Hell in a handbasket

In 'V for Vendetta,' the world's in bad shape and the Wachowskis aren't gonna take it anymore

Robert Denerstein

Friday, March 17, 2006

Welcome to the near future: Having squandered its might on wars, the U.S. has turned into a second-rate mess of a nation torn by civil strife. Her long-standing ally Great Britain teeters on the edge of a similar fate, having become a totalitarian state in which a fearful populace has surrendered most of its rights.

If you think I'm talking about the next Michael Moore movie, think again. No, this latest dystopian vision comes from the year's first big-budget movie, V for Vendetta. It's only March, but V for Vendetta - written by Andy and Larry Wachowski (The Matrix) and directed by James McTeigue - might just wind up as one of the year's most controversial movies.

Basing their movie on a 1989 graphic novel by Alan Moore - who has disavowed the project - the Wachowskis work their way through criticisms of what they present as a frightening new fascism. A willingness to use religion to mask a hunger for power ranks among the regime's main ploys.

But the subversive urges of the Wachowskis don't stop there. Many more punches are thrown. We see a bishop with a sexual appetite for little girls. We meet The Chairman (John Hurt), a dictator who runs Great Britain through intimidation. We're exposed to a bombastic, flag-waving TV personality (Roger Allam) who's so vitriolic that Rush Limbaugh and Bill O'Reilly combined couldn't touch him.

OK, when it's all said and done, the Wachowskis leave us a trifle uncertain about precisely what they're trying to say, but heaven knows, they're trying to say something, and their movie operates under a sky-is-falling cloud.

The movie's main character is a masked avenger named V, who looks as if he might just have fled a Phantom of the Opera audition. Modeled on Guy Fawkes, he's out for vengeance and perhaps to turn an entire society upside down. Don't race for the history books; the movie offers its own historical briefing on Fawkes.

V (played by Hugo Weaving, who never gets to show his face) is a victim of a terrible government abuse. He's also smart, articulate and living off the grid; he wants help from Evey (Natalie Portman), a young woman who works in British television but whose parents were radicals.

Weaving uses his voice to highlight V's intelligence as well as his capacity for sarcasm and vulnerability. Portman does some of her best screen work yet, and she's supported by a terrific British cast: Stephen Rea (as a skeptical but honest cop) and Stephen Fry (as a rebellious gay television personality).

As shot by cinematographer Adrian Biddle, the movie includes images that evoke nightmares from the Holocaust to Abu Ghraib as it cannibalizes all manner of cultural chaos. And unlike some comic-book movies, V for Vendetta isn't afraid to talk. Many scenes involve the characters in direct discussions of the film's issues.

If the movie has an agenda, it includes sexual orientation: V is far more explicit in criticizing anti-gay attitudes than, say, Brokeback Mountain, a picture you may have heard of. V further confounds expectation by treating its main character with a certain amount of wariness: He's admired, but he's also a murderer. You may find yourself wishing V were a nicer guy.

Some critics already have argued that V irresponsibly tries to turn a terrorist into a hero. But consider: V murders only those who have wronged him, and he's supposed to be battling the power elite in a society that's totally unscrupulous and oppressive.

Fair to say, V owes a debt to George Orwell, but it has so many sources of inspiration I couldn't always tell what the Wachowskis were driving at. At one point, V proclaims that people shouldn't be afraid of the government; it should be the other way around. It's possible that the Wachowskis - disgusted with just about everything - want to sweep the table clean and start over. They seem equally mired in pessimism and yearning.

I finally concluded that V was the Wachowskis' way of sticking their heads out the cinematic window and yelling at the top of their lungs.

What are they angry about?

Their list is longer than it is deep, but they certainly don't hide their rage at perceived injustice and hypocritical authority. V manages to unsettle and fascinate, riding to its conclusion on waves of unmasked outrage.

Robert Denerstein is the film critic. Denersteinb@RockyMountainNews.com or 303-892-5424