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Memento (2000)
Memory and Identity in Memento
In philosophical terms, Memento focuses on the questionable relevance of memory in determining personal identity, and how identity persists over time. The film's protagonist, Leonard, has a short-term memory loss condition due to a violent encounter with a rapist. He is unable to form any new memories, and last thing he does remember is his wife "dying." Many philosophers, such as John Locke, have argued the importance of the persistence of our personality and memory when determining identity. Is the Leonard after the incident a different Leonard than the one before? Does each independent block of remembered time represent a different person? According to the psychological account of personal identity, yes. But this is troubling to many philosophers. Let us look at Leonard's case: Every time he "comes to" he remembers who he is, and everything that happened to him before his wife's apparent murder. However there is an amnesia block similar to Chisholm's account. This block breaks the consistent chain of memory. As far as personality is concerned, Leonard still identifies himself as the same Leonard prior to the incident, albeit a lot angrier and more confused. If we consider an account of memory as a sort of glued-together chain, then we might be able to think of pre-incident Leonard the same as post-incident Leonard. Leonard before the incident (A) is connected to a period of forgotten time (B) who is in turn linked to present Leonard who is consciously processing his surrounding environment (C). Perhaps we can consider A, B and C the same person merely by their bonding, even though C cannot remember B (reminiscent of the General unable to remember stealing apples as a boy). However there is a glaring issue effecting the authenticity of Leonard's memories. Teddy reveals to us at the end of the film the possibility of Leonard manipulating his memories to serve his desires. If this is possible, then theoretically Leonard could, given his condition, manipulate himself to believe almost anything, since he knows very little to begin with. Does this imply that Leonard could willingly alter his identity? It sounds implausible, but given the fundamentals of the memory theory, it is not ruled out. Perhaps Leonard, as a result of his condition, is the ultimate master of his identity: a role that at times gives him great power and freedom, and other times feeds into his madness.
Blade Runner (1982)
Science Fiction as High Art
What does it mean to be human? The lines between man and machine are blurred in Ridley Scott's 1982 science fiction classic, Blade Runner. There are numerous theological, philosophical and literary references within the film (and many more within Phillip K. Dick's original story, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?) from the New Testament and Descartes to William Blake. The film, like all good works of philosophy, leaves the central question open for debate, however there is much evidence to suggest the filmmaker sympathizes heavily with that which cannot be defined as "natural."
In a show of intellectual superiority, Roy Batty, leader of the replicants recites an edited verse of William Blake:
"Fiery the angels fell; deep thunder rolled around their shores; burning with the fires of Orc."
The original passage from America: A Prophecy reads as follows:
"Fiery the angels rose, and as they rose deep thunder roll'd. Around their shores: indignant burning with the fires of Orc."
In context, Roy, along with all of the replicants are the "fiery" angels. They have come to the ruins of Earth (Hell) from the outer colonies in order to extend their lifespan and have brought with them their anger and resentment ("deep thunder"). Roy talks of living in constant fear as slaves do. This mission of extending their lives is their revolt against their masters.
As the story progresses, the replicant characters become more and more human while Deckard, the main human character assigned to "retire" each replicant, loses touch with his humanity. He becomes desensitized by his monotonous, machine-like assignment, and his connection with the replicants grows stronger the more human they become. His love affair with Rachael is the only thing that allows him to grow an empathetic bond with the replicants, making each subsequent kill harder and harder.
When genetic engineer J.F. Sebastian meets Roy and Pris, he expects them to behave like the machines and toys he creates. "Show me something," he asks. Roy swiftly responds with, "We're not computers Sebastian. We're physical." Roy, although conscious of being a replicant, firmly believes that his superior intellect and strength give him human qualities. He understands his life has value, however he lives as a slave on the run with an immanent expiration date. The human race sees him as nothing more than a liability; built as a Nexus-6 combat unit replicant to be decommissioned after four years in order to prevent any sort of rebellion or usurpation of human control. Pris follows up with some Descartes, "I think, therefore I am." The question is, who is more human, the replicants or their creators?
During the final confrontation between Roy and Deckard, we see Roy as an allegory for Christ. He shoves a nail into his palm in order to feel pain, as he knows that he will expire soon. Roy also carries a dove, the symbol of the Holy Spirit, and saves Deckard despite the sins he committed towards both he and his friends. We as a species have not only created something with superior-strength and intellect, but perhaps superior morals. Roy is a violent man and his actions are questionable, however he stands for his people and what he believes in. He values life so much that he saves Deckard so he may live the rest of his. The final "Tears in rain" monologue is heartbreaking, especially considering he is not human. Roy has given us reason to believe he is better than human. He is a god.
How can we stay in touch with our humanity? Is it our right to play God? Are we fit to judge which species deserve human rights and which do not? These are questions that skeptics, scientists, followers of Nietzsche and many others have grappled with. Blade Runner is a stylish movie with amazing characters that promotes the discussion of these issues, and is a landmark for both film and philosophy.
Soylent Green (1973)
More Relevant Today Than In 1973...
Of the few science fiction films starring legendary actor Charlton Heston, Soylent Green (1973), directed by Richard Fleischer, is perhaps the most plausible. It depicts a not-so-distant future 2022 New York as a city plagued by overpopulation, pollution, and food-shortages. In the film, the industrialization of the 20th century has rendered the earth untillable. Food is -allegedly - obtained by harvesting phytoplankton from the ocean, through an operation headed by the mysterious and omniscient Soylent Corporation. Their product, a synthetic food called Soylent Green, feeds most of the city. The plot follows NYPD detective Frank Thorn, (Heston) investigating the murder of William R. Simonson, a wealthy lawyer and former member of the board at Soylent. As Thorn delves further into the case, he discovers a disturbing conspiracy between the Soylent Corporation and the world's government to keep the human race ignorant of a horrifying truth: Soylent Green is not as it seems.
The film opens with an artful and effective montage, charting the destructive power of humanity's technological development. Within the first few minutes we understand the director's intent: to warn audiences of the environmental destruction humans are imposing on the planet. As a result, the forty million residents of 2022 New York live in squalor. Crowds of homeless bodies litter the sidewalks and fire escapes. Food and water is distributed through measly rations. Human 'progress' has pushed past the point of no return, where all of earth's beauties have been destroyed. Sol Roth, Thorn's good friend, played by Edward G. Robinson, remembers what life was like before the devastation. In the film he frequently recalls the beauties of the natural world, acting as a bridge between the past and future. His most memorable line is, "People were always rotten but the world was beautiful." The audience, as citizens of a not-yet-destroyed earth, represents the Sol of the past. We take for granted clean air, clean water and fresh food. To us, our environment is a novelty- something that provides some modicum of pleasure, only to be discarded when forgotten. In one of the more powerful scenes of the film, Sol and Thorn witness images of the natural world, set to Beethoven's pastoral symphony and Edvard Grieg's Peer Gynt, just as Sol is euthanized. He says to Thorn, "I told you!" to which Thorn replies, "How could I know? How could I ever imagine?" True beauty, the type of sensual pleasure felt through listening to classical music or observing nature, is a mere memory - it is Fleischer's dissatisfaction with the direction of modern culture, being transposed onto a science fiction future - the idea that true romanticism is no longer appreciated. This scene challenges the audience: in fifty years will we end up like Sol, reminiscing of the long-lost awe-inspiring beauty of our earth?
The implications of this post-apocalypse reach further than environmentalism. Incumbent Governor Santini, has connections with the Soylent Corporation and police department. After catching wind of Thorn's meddling, Santini orders the investigation to be closed. An observant viewer will notice Santini's campaign poster hanging in the office of Chief Hatcher (Brock Peters). As nature deteriorates, so does the status of women. Almost every woman in the film is a prostitute, including Thorn's love interest Shirl (Leigh Taylor-Young). She serves the men of high society, staying in one apartment as different tenants come and go - hence 'furniture.' These luxury apartments are stocked with video games, liquor, beef and even strawberry jam - something Thorn had never heard of before tasting himself. The poor live on the streets, in tenements or shelters and can look forward to eating their Soylent Green, which is sold every Tuesday. The film, which premiered post-civil rights movement, does not shy away from showing a brutal police force bent on riot control. Fleischer and company's pessimistic view of the future is a product of the perceived deterioration of the American dream, as witnessed by so many disillusioned Americans in the early 1970s. Government corruption, sexism, and inequality are not science fiction, they are modern fact, and according to Soylent Green things are only going to get worse.
The question remains, why is this film important for environmentalism? Why not just watch An Inconvenient Truth for the tenth time? The answer: how faithfully it captures the human spirit, for better or for worse. We are selfish and destructive, yes, but we are also inquisitive, freethinking, moral beings. Thorn fights against complacency in pursuit of the truth. As a species united, it is no longer acceptable for us to stand idle while our environment crumbles around us, nor should we allow the continued mistreatment of women, minorities and the poor. We have a right to information, and, in the eyes of environmental philosophers like Richard Hiskes, we have a right to clean air for our generation and our children's generation. In other words, do not eat Soylent Green, before you know what is in it.
Not once in the film do you see the barren wastes outside the city or the dying oceans. The focus is on us, the human race - the only ones capable of preventing a Soylent Green future from happening. Now, the camera is rolling and we are the stars of the show. Will we step up to the mark and perform, or collapse under the weight of our own hubris? Let us ensure that Soylent Green remains fiction, before we all become Sol Roth.