No. The possibility is specifically raised and is quickly dismissed. Too quickly, for my taste. I thought when I first read it that Dick was missing a chance, since that would have made a stronger novel.
I used those very words a short while back in another thread, and was corrected by another poster: it was Ed McMahon who used to say it. My memory isn’t reliable enough for me to doubt them.
That’s the meaning I get from the double negative (“Unlike… there are no…”). I’m not seeing any typo.
On SNL, at least, it was Carson who said it. If the other poster is right, that might be where the mistake came from.
Ed McMahon voice- “I did not know that!” .
Yep; it seems the real error was me misreading my own post.
It’s either a fun and entertaining movie with a sappy garbage Hollywood happy ending that makes no sense (that’s probably redundant) or it’s a fun and entertaining movie with a brilliantly dark ending. And given Verhoven’s other movies, I’m know which way I’m leaning.
No subtle hints, just explicit statements. The trick of the movie is to show viewers how much we want to believe in things that are obviously not real.
The plot of the film is: he goes to a facility whose purpose is to implant false experiences. That is what they do there, and why he goes there. As he is being prepared for the implantation of the false memory, everything that he is about to see is shown on the screens or discussed by the staff. There is no ambiguity at all about “this is a false memory being implanted at the false memory facility, by people who know what is going to happen because they created it.”
Yet, because we see it on the screen we want to believe that it’s “really happening” despite the movie showing us all the cards in advance. Wait - none of this is “really happening” anyway! Arnold Schwarzenegger is fake-punching a guy in a rubber mask on a set in Hollywood, he’s not on Mars OR dreaming it! We’re suddenly invested in which level of made-up this is - it’s a double-layered trick to ask the real question, which is - why do we care so much about which events within a film “really happened” when the answer is laid out as explicitly as can be right at the start? Why are we even asking the question when we all know that none of this is “really happening” at all?
To Kill a Mockingbird: both the film and the book are narrated from th3 first person point of view of Scout, Jem’s younger sister. And in the film, this is the convention for the most part. But there is a scene where Atticus goes to deliver the bad news to the Robinsons and he takes Jem with him. He does not take Scout. We watch the whole excursion take place onscreen and Scout-less. The question is, if Scout wasn’t there, how is she able to narrate that scene as a first person POV narrator? Seems like a momentary lapse of conventions.
They both may have said it at one time or another, but it was Johnny’s voice and intonation that stuck. His is the way I always say it.
If I want to do Ed, I go “Ho, ho, ho, ho. Yesssssssss!”
(To which Johnny would respond with “Thanks, Ed.”)
Regarding changing POVs, there’s something interesting I noticed in Reservoir Dogs. Mr. Orange is describing how he started as an undercover officer, and established his cover. The POV changes to a flashback, and he’s discussing with a more experienced officer how to create a convincing history for his undercover persona. The scene shifts to him in his undercover role, talking to some of the criminals he’s trying in ingratiate himself with. He’s telling them a story about a close call he had with the police. As he’s about halfway through the story, the POV shifts again to show the event he has been describing.
Think about that for a minute. On the screen we are seeing events which are fictional even within the world of the movie. It’s part of a made-up history that didn’t actually happen. Each transition along the way makes perfect sense, but they add up in an interesting way. For a novice director, it was kinda brilliant.
I hope I got the details right; it’s been ages since I’ve seen it.
Again, I don’t want to keep a tangent going too long, but these are the actual words of the director:
Paul Verhoeven: “I felt that basically I should not say ‘This is true, and this not true.’ […] we worked very hard to make both consistent, and that both would be true. And I think we succeeded very well. So I think of course there is no solution.”
The intention was very much for an open ending, just like many other films.
I did address this.
Quaid chooses the elements of his adventure, and he has had recurring dreams about mars, so under the “real” interpretation, he picked real elements based on his suppressed memories.
The picture of Ticotin is more problematic, but I would put it down to a fun easter egg for repeat viewers, not a thing we should base our conclusion on. After all, if everything we see that Quaid doesn’t see is real, then he’s trivially Hauser. So under the “dream” interpretation it’s still necessary to ignore a lot of things that happen as just “movie”, and not part of his dream nor reality.
That reminds me:
A Pale Rider. We viewed this in film class and the prof went on and on and on, and I kept waiting for her to mention that Eastwoods character is…well…a ghost. Or death. I mean, its right in the title! And she seemed stunned when I mentioned the possibility.
Regardless, Eastwood says he is a ghost. Which, we know is not definitive, but at least adds the possibilty which my prof wouldn’t even consider.
Yeah, the Pale Rider is Death.
Wasnt there a final scene where the presumed dead dog comes back to the girl, or am I thinking another film?
No, the character in High Plains Drifter is a ghost. The character in Pale Rider is a middle-aged version of the Man With No Name. John Russell’s character is substituting for Lee Van Cleef.
Maybe and maybe not. The biblical reference to literal Death is right there, after all. And he’s got several bullet wounds across his back. It’s deliberately left a bit ambiguous but that means leaving plenty of signs to interpret things that way.
That’s the way I’ve always heard it in my mind’s ear, but my memory can no longer be trusted.
The conclusion we can draw from that is that Verhoeven is an idiot. Except I think that most of us already knew that.
He’s not an idiot. He’s a talented action movie director with a knack for appearing deeper than he actually is.
No, I’m going to go with “idiot.” Not that you are wrong, mind you…