Fair warning: It’s a review so there’s possibly some mild spoilers in here, but don’t worry, it’s been thoroughly vetted, nothing major.
Yes, Christopher Nolan’s “Inception” is unthinkably complex, a whirligig puzzlebox thriller set in a world of dreams (and dreams-within-dreams), but it’s also a exceptionally aspiring project in general: a large studio movie, whose budget tickled the $200 million mark, that isn’t based on a preexisting franchise, video game or breakfast cereal mascot. When entering the theater you might think you’re dreaming, just because the title of the movie doesn’t dislodge some dusty nostalgia or conclude with a Roman numeral. That alone would deliver it as some kind of breakthrough, a creative accomplishment in a summer or reboots, sequels, and tired franchise rehashes; even the best of which are starting to feel a little routine. But the heady, multi-layered movie is so much more than that; it’s a fully engrossing, incredibly ambitious and a tremendously original thriller that, unlike previous reports of its “chilliness,” will indeed make you feel something deeply, and may even discombobulate your world view as you leave the theater.
Oh and those who think we may have spoiled “Inception” along the way? That’s delusional, as we imagined, “Inception” was replete with surprises.
The main conceit of “Inception” is that Leonardo DiCaprio plays Cobb, The Extractor, a corporate dream warrior/thief who journeys into people’s subconscious to gain sensitive, secretive information. His partner is Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Arthur, The Point Man and organizer of their dangerous dream journeys. After a botched job involving a Japanese tycoon named Saito (Ken Wanatabe), that same tycoon — impressed with their bravado despite the failure — hires Arthur and Cobb for a much more risky proposition: Inception. That is: planting an idea in someone’s head, instead of extracting information out of the mind. After losing one key member (Lukas Haas) Saito tells Cobb to put a new team together to pull of this impossible stunt, so he does: Ariadne (a surprisingly excellent Ellen Page) is “the architect,” a talented young student who possesses the ability to craft the “levels” of the dream; Eames (the deliciously charming and scene-stealing Tom Hardy) is a forger, a kind of Cheshire Cat who can impersonate people within the dream; and Yusuf (Dileep Rao) is the chemist, who comes up with potions that can successfully submerge “the Mark,” Robert Fischer Jr. (Cillian Murphy), for unusually long prolonged periods of time so the cadre can complete their dirty work. Saito more actively joins the group as what they call, “the tourist,” hitching a ride with his dream team to make sure things succeed, but not one completely as versed in the dream world as everyone else, but there’s little wiggle room negotiation here.
The job is simple, but psychologically and emotionally difficult: somehow convince this new tycoon to split up the energy conglomerate that he has inherited from his dying father (Pete Postlethwaite). It sounds basic enough, but their estranged relationship proves the planting of this idea to be Herculean on many levels. And at the same time this job, is almost a red herring, a side-dish plot device that drops us into the bigger problem at hand: the fragile psyche and baggage of the main protagonist played by DiCaprio.
Why is Cobb so invested in this potentially iffy endeavor? Well, let’s say he’s got a personal stake in the operation, and Saito has promised him a very hefty reward upon completion. It’s a little more complicated than that but we’d rather keep that dynamic, as well as the one involving his dreamy femme fatale of a wife, Mal (Marion Cotillard), to ourselves. Either you buy Cobb’s dilemma, a typical Christopher Nolan-y conceit about guilt, regret, and redemption, or you don’t. This will decide as to whether or not you come away from the movie feeling that it is a virtuoso, but inhuman work of a master craftsman, or something more deeply felt and emotionally rich; an artistic triumph.
We’re going to go with the latter and frankly, we’re a little surprised to hear that some haven’t.
From the word “go,” “Inception” is an impressive kaleidoscopic joyride that will leave you utterly breathless. Is it confusing? Not any moreso than films that purposefully keep you in the dark. Regardless it may take a few more viewings, which we’ll gladly engage with, before we untangle its many threads. But at the same time, it’s utterly approachable, even towards the end, when it braids multiple narratives, on multiple planes of reality (or un-reality) together. At its core, it’s an expertly produced “guys on a mission”-type heist movie, not all that far removed from the “Ocean’s Eleven” movies and their ilk (and the last act is all Bond). And yet, it’s many things at once, an tried-and-true action thriller, a love story, and a variegated and head-swirling mindbender that one ups “The Matrix” (or at least give us the modern day equivalent, only in its own highly unique form). This was done intentionally, we’d reckon, as another way to emotionally tether the movie to the audience: no matter how outre its far-out conceptual parameters may stretch, you’ll be able to find something reasonably identifiable in the scenario.
We wrote about sci-fi teams in relation to last week’s “Predators,” but we really should have saved that for “Inception,” because this team is so crackerjack. DiCaprio is burdened with being the straight man, once again, for which he wears that furrowed brow proudly. But it’s a more sympathetic and ultimately rich portrait of his similar character from “Shutter Island” (comparisons will abound, but most of them are far too facile for our taste). Gordon-Levitt finally gets to shine in a big budget feature after being relegated to charming indies like “(500) Days of Summer” and “The Lookout.” As the Point Man, he’s well dressed and knows how to take care of business, and gets to be the center of a lengthy, utterly jaw-dropping action sequence set in a hotel that’s lost its gravity. Ellen Page is given audience point-of-view newb role who has to be explained everything, but her scenes go down with a surprisingly silky smoothness; they never feel overburdened by exposition. And then there’s Tom Hardy. Oh Tom Hardy. The man who won our hearts as a brutal British prison in last year’s “Bronson” is now very ready for prime time. As the roguish chameleon he steals ever scene he’s in and got the movie’s biggest dialogue-attributed laugh. There’s something utterly fluid and convincing about his performance as the dandy who knows how to kick ass. (Wanatabe commits wholeheartedly but doesn’t have a lot to do, and honestly he’s hard to understand at first; Middle America, watch out).
Hans Zimmer’s score, teased in the trailers, really is something to behold, as well. At times conversely oppressive and sprightly, it mixes thunderous bass lines with twinkly, dolorous “Blade Runner”-ish electronics that start to surface near the film’s emotional climax. Combined with Nolan and Lee Smith’s stunning editorial work, it expertly puts you in these worlds, at different stages nightmarish and dreamy. Some of the electronic flourishes suggest a kind of positivity in the technology that the cynical movie never suggests; there’s only passing reference to wear the dream theft technology came from.
“Inception” twists and turns, weaves and sways and boggles the mind in the best ways possible. The central theft conceit is the ultimate MacGuffin (connectin a father and son over a dead man’s empire); there is an emotional core to it but it’s really an excuse for the actors and filmmakers to display their weightless feats of creative derring-do. By the time the movie reaches its three-layered (or is it four-layered?) extended crescendo, which takes up about the last forty-five minutes of the movie, you’ve stopped trying to figure out what, precisely, is going on, and given it all up to a filmmaker’s singular vision. You’re wrapped up, immersed, consumed. We were walking out of the theater shaken up and wholly invigorated by what we had just seen. Nolan has worked with a small collection of thematic concerns (among them guilt, the power of magic, fear, etc.) and refined them and refined them, through each subsequent movie, until he’s reached this, his magnum opus. For an large piece of grand-scale Hollywood filmmaking, it’s shockingly personal in this regard; an intimate epic. You can follow a clear through-line from “Following,” “Memento,” “The Prestige” to “Inception” with ease. To put it simply, Nolan outdoes himself in every possible way imaginable. A sense of weightlessness or even uncertainty follows you after the film. It’s impact is such that your equilibrium is effected and sometimes you’re not even sure what you just witnessed. “Inception” is nothing short of outstanding and an visceral experience that will leave a terrific impact on your psyche.
To address earlier reports, like David Edelstein’s grim assessment in New York Magazine; the movie is fun, almost relentlessly entertaining and probably the most captivating mindfuck ever (imagine the intricacies of “Pi” or “Primer” only on steroids and via thrilling popcorn-intelligent aesthetics)
Our packed audience, filled with journalists and regular folks (and Kathryn Bigelow) produced big laughs several times, and we chuckled occasionally at moments that just seemed, to us, unbelievably cool (also: when Tom Berenger showed up). We sat there with a goofy smile plastered across our face for much of the movie and also with our jaws on the floor more than a few time. The audience also got wrapped up in the stakes of the movie, oohing and cringing at precise moments, you could feel them getting involved. It may have trouble finding its mass, mainstream audience, but once it does, it will get them good. The movie might not be 100% perfect (there’s a conspicuous lack of sexuality in the movie, even in its subconscious realms which is one minor quibble) but in a dreary summer of endless sequels, reboots, “re-imaginings” and adaptations, “Inception” is an extraordinary dream come true. [A]
