
"They make us feel indebted
For saving us from hell
And then they put us through it
It's time the bastards fell!"
-- "Suspect Device," Stiff Little Fingers, 1979
"The revolution will not be televised."
-- Gil-Scott Heron
The more things stay the
same, the more they change. Or vice-versa. Originally written and published in 1981, the comic book
V for
Vendetta was created by Englishmen Alan Moore (writer) and David Lloyd (artist) in response to political events in
their home nation. They created a dark fantasia about life under fascism in a near-future England, and a masked man who
sprung from the shadows to smash the iron grip of power. Over two decades later,
V for Vendetta comes to the big
screen with a script adaptation by
Andy and
Larry Wachowski, with big stars and big money all apparent in the final
product. And once again, Hollywood moves at the speed of lead; a rousing response to Thatcherism is exactly what the
world needs now.
Time turns all artifacts of rebellion into fetish objects: Ronald Reagan is immortalized
as a collectible plate. Che Guevara's known mostly as a T-shirt. Billy Bragg's early on-the-cheap LP's of protest songs
have been re-mastered for a CD box set with bonus DVDs. And turning any work of art into a movie inevitably takes time.
The question of whether the world of 2006 resembles that of 1981 politically is a matter of personal opinion; the
question of whether filmmaking has changed in the past 25 years is not. Moore's original vision (which I read when it
was first published in serial form, riveted with adolescent angst) is so old it takes place in a future that is now our
past. (It's also worth nothing that Moore has asked for his name to be removed from the film as part of a dispute with
DC Comics - which, like Cinematical, is nestled under the corporate umbrella of Time Warner, along with Warner Brothers
Films.)
The story is still essentially the same; after political chaos and mass destruction, England's risen
from the ashes of ruin to be reborn as a orderly, healthy, efficiently-run dictatorship, complete with secret police
and propaganda broadcasts. A young woman, Evey Hammond (
Natalie Portman) is out past curfew and
set upon by the feared 'Fingermen' – secret police that can call anything you do a crime and whose every action
is, by definition, legal. The cops are stopped by a single man – a cape-wearing phantasm wearing a
Guy Fawkes mask, an unceasing, unsettling smile beaming out as he
dispatches any who oppose him. (The film shows and explains how Fawkes attempted to destroy the House of Parliament in
1605 in a prologue, so American audiences won't be left wondering why the dude kicking ass is wearing what looks like,
as near as they can tell, a Hamburglar mask.)