TIFF 2012 REVIEW: ROOM 237
(Vanguards)
(USA, 2012)
Directed
by: Rodney Asher
In
1980, when I had just started high school, theatrical films in the
once-very-conservative province of Ontario were rated only “General” (the
American “G”), Adult Entertainment (the American “PG”) , and “Restricted” (the
American “R” and heavily-censored “X”),
There was no “PG-13”, no admission perk for those accompanied by an
adult or legal guardian. If you were
under 18, you didn’t get to see it period—a rule that was strictly
enforced, at least in my hometown, which was so prudish that Herbert Ross’
adaptation of “The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas” was retitled “The Best
Little Chicken Ranch In Texas” on the marquee, and the newspaper advised those curious
to “call theatre for title”.
Imagine
my surprise, and delight then, when on my way home from the 7PM screening of
“The Empire Strikes Back” (which took six months to reach local screens), I was
passing by the competing cinema just up the street and thought I’d try my luck
at acquiring a ticket to a movie that had a very scary trailer (and was based
on a novel by an author I’d only recently discovered with the tale of a town
overrun by vampires) and was successful…
I
thrilled to Stanley Kubrick’s already-controversial take on “The Shining” with
almost as much awe as I’d just regarded Lucas’ thrilling, artful sequel. My
burgeoning horror fanatic got a major leg-up that evening—I didn’t always
understand the film, but I’d never seen anything like it, and as I grew older I
found it to be one of those reliable cinematic talking points about which
everyone had their own bias and interpretation.
What are movies but a glorified Rorschach Test,
really?
Well,
I’ve encountered a great many unique takes on “The Shining” over the years, but
none like you’ll encounter if you decide to brave the alternately stimulating
and frustrating documentary “Room 237” (named for the Overlook’s notorious
hotel suite, changed from 217 in King’s novel), which makes some of the JFK
conspiracies seem positively reasonable in comparison. Kubrick’s films have always invited
controversy—I was told at a very young age by my middle-school SCIENCE teacher
that “the guy who made ‘2001’ directed the fake moon landing”, but this one? A
major-studio-produced, big-budget adaptation of a fairly famous novel? Sure, I
knew Kubrick and co-screenwriter Diane Johnson had taken some liberties with
King’s text (just ask the author!), but still… maybe there was a reason for his
penchant for 70+ takes. Maybe he was planting something...?
Officially
entitled “Room 237: Being An Inquiry Into The Shining In Nine Parts” (a nice
wink to “Barry Lyndon”), Rodney Ascher’s
committed chronicle of five key conspiracy theories hidden with
"The Shining" eventually becomes exhausting, struggling to sustain a
fairly long 107 minute running time...
The
film is devoted to fanatical obsessives who have developed outlandish theories
around obscure clues, often in the form of brief continuity errors, fleeting details, and narrative loopholes
within the adaptation. Five, in total,
featured here:
For
Bill Blakemore, a correspondent for ABC News, Kubrick intended the
film as an allegory about the plight of the American Indian.
For
Jay Weidner, Room 237 refers to the roughly 237,000 miles from Earth to the
moon, thus serving as Kubrick's confession that he did, as rumored, assist in
faking the first Apollo moon landing.
The first clue: a box of Calumet baking soda in the hotel's
food stores...
For
Geoffrey Cocks, it's Kubrick's take on the
Holocaust:
Jack Torrance uses a German typewriter, and the number 42 appears frequently in
the film (42 cars parked in the Overlook's parking lot), and referencing 1942,
the year of The Final Solution...
For
writer Jill Kerns, it's the Minotaur Myth, illustrated most obviously by the
climactic chase through the Overlook's labyrinthine hedge maze, but also
acknowledged in a poster in the hotel's game room, of all places...
For
me, theory five is the most plausible: that the tale is
largely an account of the fallout of abuse of young Danny Torrance, who blacks
out from his first encounter with the murdered, and who might have concocted an
imaginary friend, Tony, as a coping mechanism.
The conversation between Wendy and the doctor reveals that his father
had dislocated Danny's arm in a drunken rage, and after Danny first visits Room
237, Wendy seems convinced that the marks on his neck are from Jack's
hand. Of course, there are many scenes
without Danny, but most still point to his father's damaged mind...
Because Asher assembled the documentary without the
involvement of the Kubrick estate or Warner Bros., visuals are limited and
recycled to the point of tedium. There’s
a strange re-use of Tom Cruise in “Eyes Wide Shut” entering a restaurant that
becomes a shorthand for any discussion of the film’s theatrical run. Other clips are limited to repeated shots of
the "bloody elevator", Danny on the distinctive geometric carpet, and
Jack's entrance to the Gold Room. We
see these shots again and again...
What
also frustrates is that none of the five theorists, who blather on at great
length and with much conviction, are ever shown. Identified by
an onscreen super only, it's hard
to follow just-who’s-talking-about-whose-bizarre-interpretation, esp. with so
many recycled stills and clips.
For
me the most memorable element of the film is its driving, synth-and-bass-heavy
score that acknowledges the distinctive genre themes of John Carpenter, Alan
Howarth, and Fred Mygrove (I detected very little of Walter/Wendy Carlos).
But a
subliminal image Kubrick in the clouds during the opening credits? Deliberate
continuity errors like the changing colours of typewriters? Danny’s ugly Apollo
sweater as a deliberate confession?
Sometimes a skier on a barely glimpsed
skier tourism poster is just a skier, and not a minotaur, right?
The
intensity and absolute certainty of each person's conviction is what makes most
conspiracy believers so weirdly compelling and yet also repellent--after all,
how much free time can one possible have to host screenings where the film is
run forward-and-backward? All work and no play…oh, you know…
©Robert
J. Lewis 2012
