September 28, 2020

The Private Pyle Conundrum


Stanley Kubrick had many obsessions throughout his life and career. He loved a good notebook. He adored animals, particularly cats. And he had a big old man crush on Napoleon Bonaparte. There was however, one nagging problem when it came to the exiled emperor of 19th century France. Kubrick could not understand how a master strategist like Napoleon could be such a noob when it came to invading Russia. No army had ever managed to successfully invade Russia in 600 years, so why did Napoleon attempt it during the winter of 1812, when his soldiers were already pushed to their limits and dangerously low on supplies? This was a frequent source of confusion and frustration for Kubrick. I have a similar issue with Kubrick and his writing of Private Pyle’s character arc in Full Metal Jacket.


As big a fan as I am of Stanley Kubrick, even I can admit that his films are peppered with cringe worthy moments. Eyes Wide Shut, for instance, is full of them. Yet most of these directorial decisions are related to his penchant for ‘interesting’ performances. Private Pyle’s character arc stands alone in Kubrick’s filmography as, potentially, his one and only screenplay flaw. Spoilers ahead.

Private Leonard Lawrence enters Full Metal Jacket as a slack jawed mouth breathing dullard. His amusement at being berated by Drill Instructor Gunnery Sergeant Hartman earns him the moniker ‘Gomer Pyle’ and the first of many beatings. He is unfit, slow to learn, disliked by his peers and routinely humiliated. Then, under the tutelage of Private Joker, Pyle transforms into a well trained killing machine. He gains the respect of Hartman and graduates as a United States Marine Corps Infantry Rifleman.


Immediately following this, he is found sitting in the latrine with his rifle Charlene. He claims he is ‘in a world of shit’, and proceeds to murder Hartman before blowing his own head off. This is something I could never understand, and is the first of two points I would like to make on the subject. Pyle has achieved the impossible - he has become a Marine. So why is he still ‘in a world of shit’? Fair enough to say that he was in a world of shit, but now? Why not kill Hartman weeks ago? Why not blow your head off when you’re at your absolute lowest? Why wait until you’ve achieved the one thing no one said you could do before killing yourself? Other than to cap off the Parris Island segment with a shocking climax, what logical reason is there to place this scene here?


My second point is this - assuming Pyle wasn't drafted, why didn’t he just quit? Hartman hounded him relentlessly to leave, and it seemed to be an option, so why stick it out? I can see only two reasons why someone might choose to continue training despite the torture and abuse Pyle received:
  1. He had been given a court order stating that he either go to prison or join the Marines, and Pyle believed the alternative was worse.
  2. He needed the money. Perhaps Pyle was the sole income earner for his family, and maybe the Marines was the only employer willing to give him a job?

Now I am aware that none of the characters in Full Metal Jacket have fleshed out backstories, and that this was a conscious decision on Kubrick’s part. But if the audience is to believe that a character’s derangement was inevitable and unavoidable, then one or two lines about his criminal past or his destitute family might have sold that point more convincingly.

Kubrick’s screenplays evolve over years of countless writers, drafts and meetings. During filming, he rewrites scenes himself, over and over again with no concern for time or budgetary constraints. Every single story decision and line of dialogue is considered numerous ways before being immortalised on film. Private Pyle’s unconvincing character arc therefore, like Napoleon’s decision to push forward into a Russian winter, will forever remain a mystery for the ages.

June 19, 2020

The Parallelism of Kubrick and Kate


Stanley Kubrick and Kate Bush are two of the most important and influential artists of the 20th Century. Despite this, Kubrick is not renowned for his singing or dancing. Similarly, having recently laboured through Bush’s 1993 self proclaimed ‘load of bollocks’, The Line, The Cross and the Curve, it’s safe to say that she is not synonymous with film making. Yet both of these artists have so much in common it’s astonishing that everyone isn’t talking about it, like, all of the time. According to comedian Michelle Wolf, ‘Blogs are a conversation that no one wanted to have with you’. That observation has never been more applicable than to this red hot topic.

January 27, 2020

How To Make A Belated Sequel



It has become common practice for filmmakers to strip-mine the past for pre-existing IP with a ready made fan base. This has resulted in a slew of new 'first' sequels to movies from the 80s and 90s – movies that we never thought required a second outing. In 2020, sequels that may or may not be coming your way include:

I love a good dot-point list, so here's another one of belated releases from the past few years:

The fear of alienating those who are unfamiliar with the original has also precipitated the rise of the ‘soft reboot’ - films that are more remake than sequel. These films rarely adhere to a numbering system (for example, Rocky II, Rocky III, Rocky IV) but instead try to hide their numerical position in a larger franchise (Rocky Balboa, Creed). Every so often, though, a belated sequel will appear that proudly flaunts its sequelness. But does that always make for compelling viewing? Let's compare two recent examples...