What am I supposed to call this?

The Experiment

2011-11-28T11:37:00.001-08:00

A psychological thriller is great, but it's even better when it involves an experiment to test the behavioral tendencies of prisoners and guards in penitentiary systems. That's exactly what "The Experiment" is—and, even better, it's based on a true story. The film does take several liberties and is far from matching the original, but "The Experiment" loosely follows the events that took place in 1971 with the Stanford prison experiment. I always find a little more interest in movies—especially thrillers—when I know that there's some truth behind the scenes.

The attraction to a $14.000 paycheck is enough to draw twenty-four very different men to a behavioral experiment advertised in the local paper. It is described by the head scientist as an "experiment in which we will be simulating the conditions of life inside a state penitentiary." After the men are loaded onto a bus and shipped off to the pseudo-prison they'll be staying at for two full weeks, they are separated into two groups—prisoners and guards. In a matter of hours, the men assume the roles they've been given with more fervor than even the experiment head had anticipated. Things spiral out of control quickly when the guards' disciplinary decisions get out of hand, leading the prisoners to grow uneasy. Eventually they revolt against the guards and something of a miniature prison riot occurs (after only six days). The experiment abruptly ends there, but it's easy to see that each man has learned something about himself—perhaps something he wished he hadn't.

Although the setting of the movie begins in a presumably large city in the U.S., it shifts after about fifteen minutes to the prison-like institution that makes for the majority of the film. It isn't specified what the building had previously been used for, but it clearly very large and solid. A "cell block" is the focus of many scenes in the movie, where the prisoners stay for most of the day. It consists of several small cells and an enclosed area in the middle where the prisoners may participate in recreational activities for thirty minutes of their day.

The setting would be a complete bore if not for the astounding actors that fill the screen. Some would argue that the characters are cliche, but I feel as if their actors took great care to bring them to life. For me, at least, it's easy to connect with the characters early in the movie.

The beginning scenes show Travis (Adrien Brody) attending a peace rally where he meets a girl named Bay (Maggie Grace). A relationship buds between the two of them fairly quickly and Bay decides that she wants to go to India. In inviting Travis to join her, the decision to participate in the experiment is made. It is obvious from the start that Travis is anything but prone to violence, and yet his transformation upon entering the "prison" setting and facing the torment of the guards is completely believable thanks to Adrien Brody's performance. By the sixth day of the experiment, he is capable of leading the other prisoners to rebel against the guards.

A similar change in character occurs in Barris (Forest Whitaker), a 42-year-old man with docile tendencies who still lives with his mother. Just three days into the experiment, Barris discovers how much he enjoys the power he's been given over the prisoners. Although his personality shift is more abrupt than Travis', Forest Whitaker plays it off surprisingly well.

Other big names include Cam Gigandet, Clifton Collins Jr., and Fisher Stevens. While each of them play very different characters, they all seem perfect for the roles. Cam Gigandet makes an especially great antagonist in this movie and others (such as "Twilight" and "Never Back Down").

Human behavior is a tantalizing subject in and of itself, but conducting experiments to test the limits of the human psyche is something that many people find both fascinating and terrifying. "The Experiment" does a fine job of questioning humankind's place on the ethological food-chain, both in its screenplay and cinematography. You can see the characters losing themselves. Although the original Stanford experiment was not intended to question the morals of the human race, necessarily, "The Experiment" plants the idea into your mind at the very beginning. By the end of the movie, you have to wonder why mankind is the way it is.

A little bit of truth goes a long way when it comes to movies. In the case of “The Experiment” it makes the movie that much more striking. It isn't hard to believe that these men were psychologically degraded and humiliated in a prison setting. We know that they never would have acted as they did under normal circumstances—meeting in a coffee shop, for example. As astonishing as their metamorphosis is, as realistic and reasonable, you have to ask yourself: Would that have happened to me? And I think we all know the answer.

Hiroshima

2011-11-28T11:36:00.000-08:00

Starting World War II, Iwo Jima had been relatively unimportant to both the United States and Japan. Following the attack on Pearl Harbor, however, and in the hands of the Japanese, "it served as an observation point for warning the homeland of impending raids." Seizing the opportunity, it was swiftly assigned thousands of Japanese troops to build bunkers all over the island. On February 19, 1945, after seventy-four days of bombardment against Iwo Jima, U.S. Marines were employed. 3,650 were killed and wounded within the first two days, leading the marines to "suffer their worst casualties in the history of the corps" on the island. Approximately 40,000 men were killed in less than a month.

The cruelties suffered at Iwo Jima definitely played a part in the decision to drop an atomic bomb on the city of Hiroshima. Add to this voluminous American casualties and the blatant Japanese refusal of the Potsdam Declaration and the decision had practically made itself. The proposed alternatives—a blockade, demonstrating the bomb, etc.—were not enough to sate the men in charge, whom presumably did not care about the utter tragedy that would befall the people of Hiroshima. A supposed "logic of violence" clouded their vision, providing a small group of men with the authority to destroy an entire city and thousands of innocent citizens.

Human nature assures that one group must always assert dominance over another. In the case of "total warfare" this basically means that if the rules of war are proving ineffective against the enemy, the "reasonable" course of action is to bypass those rules in favor of more violent and "necessary" means. The goal becomes to end a conflict as quickly as possible with minimal damage to allied forces. The opponent is dehumanized to the point that it doesn't matter what happens to them. The harsh reality is that "acts of terrible violence" will haunt our world's history for centuries to come, and while it may be "reasonable" to the men in charge—it will never be just.

Memories

2011-10-26T21:05:00.000-07:00

Humans are fascinating creatures, raised to rely heavily on companionship. New relationships are born every day—or such is the case for most people. A fraction of society is lost when it comes to social interaction, lingering to the side warily, eyeing its peers with jealousy and contempt. A desire to fit in festers in the back of their minds, begging them to just say “hello.” Simple introductions aren’t simple for this minority. The mere thought of inducing a conversation sends chills down their spines, heats their cheeks to an unbearable temperature, and tightens their chest to the point that it hurts to breathe—and yet they possess no greater desire. Silent opinions are made on the conversations around them, a quiet voice urging them to join in. Alas, attempts to speak are shattered by the constricting fear of rejection, the passionate urge to belong quietly returning to its corner of the mind.

A pleasant summer day marks the beginning of an atrocious misfortune for a starry-eyed young girl. Dressed in pink, the chubby blond accompanies her mother and best friend to a local mall—a “girl’s day out,” they say. Perhaps it’s early in the day, as there aren’t many others browsing the stores or enjoying the food court. For the most part, they’ve the enormous building to themselves. As their trip nears its end, they decide to make one more stop—a store on the second floor. Spotting the elevator nearby, the cheery little girl skips ahead of her party to claim the rights of pressing the elevator button.

As she is joined by the two people she loves most, she notices a distinctly different aura from them both. When she’d left them, they had each been happy with the day’s course—now they seemed coarse and bitter, as if they abhorred the fact she had run ahead. A curtain of blond hair hides the girl’s face as she asks, unafraid, “What’s wrong?” Both her mother and friend are reluctant to speak, but a few minutes of prodding reveals the source of their disdain. “A man,” they told her, “was making fun of you as you ran to the elevator.”

Immediately an unfamiliar feeling struck the girl, filling her gut with butterflies and warming her cheeks. Their visit was cut short, as team morale had plummeted. The car ride was solemn. As they dropped her friend off at her house, the girl waved good-bye—an unprecedented insecurity replacing the stars in her eyes.

A propensity toward the written word became prominent. The desire to communicate with others is impossible to overcome because humans are, by nature, social creatures. Unfortunately—the majority lacks the compassion that we as a minority require. Sensitivity is both a blessing and a curse.