Brick and Forth: A Rian Johnson Retrospective with Eddie and Matt
With Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi due in theaters this week, Eddie Losoya and Matt Bickerton decided to take a look back at director Rian Johnson’s earlier films. This week they’ll be talking about the director’s feature length debut, the high school noir film, Brick. Please note, this article contains spoilers for Brick.
Eddie Losoya: As I’m sure you know, Star Wars: The Last Jedi comes out very soon, and it’d be cool to look back on director Rian Johnson’s short but excellent career. To start things off, let’s talk about Johnson’s debut indie film, Brick. Now, first of all, this is a very strong debut from a young filmmaker. I’m curious what about this movie still works for you? For me, it was the strong sense of a stylized world that Johnson creates. Very quickly you figure out this isn’t a normal world or high school, and these kids operate on a different level. It can actually be hard to get a feel for whether it’s satire or sincere, but either way you know you’re getting something completely different right off the bat.
Matt Bickerton: I’ve always loved movies where high schools exist as their own sort of microcosmic societies. It’s a weirdly specific niche, I’ll admit, but it’s one that Brick basically defines. There’s really nothing else quite like it. Like you said, the world of Brick isn’t a normal world, or even a normal high school. Everyone talks like a hardboiled character in a Dashiell Hammett novel, but that defiance of normality is part of its charm; it’s absolutely silly, but it’s silly in that overly serious way that high school is silly when you look back on it. Brick’s teenage characters treat their problems with the same deathly seriousness as any real world high schooler, the only difference being that the problems in Brick actually are that serious. That’s helped along by the classic noir trope of a surreal, almost dreamlike quality to the proceedings (underscored by the fact that the passage of time is marked by Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s protagonist, Brendan Frye, waking up throughout the film, against an out of focus, omnipresent digital clock), and it’s so audacious, you’re left questioning whether what you’re watching is actually happening. Thinking about it now, the plot feels exactly like the kind of fantasy scenario an eccentric teenager going through a bad breakup would concoct around themselves.
Eddie: I think you absolutely nailed it, and that hyper-reality is exactly what makes these characters so endearing. They’re heightened fantasy versions of the people we see and interact with every day. You see this transformation at work with characters like Brendan’s informant and ally, “Oh, he’s smart. I bet he’d be the Brain.” And Johnson isn’t afraid to subvert and poke fun at the gravity with which the characters speak, either. This is most notable during the lunch scene between Brendan and The Pine, the local gang leader, which features the latter’s mother serving up juice and cereal for her son’s kitchen “drug deal pow-wow.”
Matt: Speaking of The Pin’s mom, I think the way the adults are portrayed in this movie is really interesting. There are only three adult characters in the whole movie, and they’re all, to varying degrees, completely useless, which totally reflects that teenage perspective that Johnson’s aiming for. The Pin’s mom is either oblivious to, or complicit in, her son’s drug empire (worth noting: she completely disappears during the brief armistice between Tug and The Pin in the third act); Assistant VP Trueman (Shaft!) is the meddling police captain who just gets in the way of Brendan’s investigation; and Laura’s mother is only briefly glimpsed at her high school age daughter’s cocktail party, after poorly screening Laura’s phone calls earlier in the film. None of them are even remotely helpful, which makes total sense, if we’re thinking of this story as Brendan’s teenage power fantasy; even his own mother is barely mentioned, never seen, and may be something of an absentee parent judging from Brendan’s ridiculous lack of supervision.
Eddie: Watching it again, I was also struck by the sound design in the movie. There’s a special type of silence that Brick utilizes as Brendan moseys around town hunting for clues. Perhaps my favorite scene of the movie is the chase at the school where the only sound comes from Brendan and his pursuer’s footsteps as they echo and reverberate through the empty campus around them. No music or backing track is used; it’s just the sound of two sets of feet, one in hot pursuit. The sound design is so evocative here, as the payoff involves Brendan quickly removing his shoes to silently get the jump on his pursuer. It’s such a genius way to adapt a Hollywood-style chase to a high school setting and a great example of creativity born from a low budget.
That’s probably my favorite scene in a movie that’s full of great little moments. Now I’m curious what your favorite scene was.
Matt: I was actually going to mention that chase scene, too. The relative silence is so different from what we’re used to seeing, or rather, hearing in movies, and it makes the chase all the more intense for it. Really, I love the way that Johnson filmed Brendan’s fights in general. They’re very visceral (to further abuse an overused adjective), and Brendan is an incredibly pragmatic fighter, which I think is exemplified really well in the scene where he picks a fight with the jock king Brad Bramish. Joseph Gordon-Levitt isn’t a very big guy, so Johnson takes that into account and has Brendan throw his entire body into his opening haymaker. Like, to the extent that he goes flying to the ground himself even as he staggers his opponent. Then when it seems like he’s at Brad’s mercy later in the fight, Brendan repeatedly kicks Brad in the shins to keep him at bay until Brendan can regain his composure. Even when Brendan finally wins, he’s still taken a hell of beating, which keeps adding up until the end of the movie, by which point, he’s only still standing through sheer force of will.
Now, to answer your question, I’m not sure if I’d call it my favorite scene, but it’s definitely the one that’s stuck with me the most: the scene at the tunnel, where The Pin’s chief enforcer, Tug, shoots the leader of the stoner clique, Dode. For all of the movie’s dreamlike qualities, Johnson doesn’t for a second shy away from showing the consequences of violence. I’ve already talked about how Brendan’s been beaten half to death by the end of the film (my dude is definitely bleeding internally), but this is the only time we see anyone actually killed on screen in the film, and it has haunted me ever since I first saw it. We have this slow buildup where Dode, thinking Brendan is responsible for their mutual ex-girlfriend Em’s murder (the catalyst for the events of the film), taunts Brendan in front of Tug and The Pin, vaguely alluding to Brendan’s alleged involvement in the crime as he builds his case. Throughout the scene, we see Tug in the background, growing more and more tense, until finally, just before Dode reveals what he thinks is the truth, Tug snaps and beats the shit out of Dode before putting a bullet through his head. Though the shooting is filmed primarily in silhouette, we see more than enough of the gory detail to understand immediately the brutality of Tug’s actions right before he threatens The Pin, whose only response is to quietly walk away while Brendan collapses in a coughing fit. The film then cuts to Brendan waking up (again!) in a strange room, while a visibly shaken Tug informs him that he and The Pin are going to war. It’s a scene that’s crucial to the narrative, while also shocking despite its muted violence, and yet oddly sympathetic to its notably damaged characters. Tug killed Dode in a fit of rage and fear, and now we know why: Tug is probably responsible for Em’s death (with whom he was also in love), and we see that for all his swagger he’s still basically just a scared kid in over his head. It also features one of the most memorable tableaus in a film that’s full of them. That gout of steam exploding out of the back of Dode’s head as he slumps to the ground is an image I’ll never be able to forget.
Eddie: That sequence of events that you beautifully laid out has so many rich ideas. While Dode is trying to convince The Pin of what he knows, Brendan and Tug sit there in dread and anticipation, Tug in particular fiddling with a bundle of grass in his hands. It’s mainly in the background, but clearly establishes Tug’s agitation. Right before his quick snap, we are shown a cutaway shot of the bundle of grass floating in the river towards Dode. This is so brilliant because it serves as the audience reveal that Tug is so afraid that he was quite literally “snapping” before the camera, showing movement toward Dode, leading right into Tug’s attack. It’s incredible moments like those that most foreshadow Johnson’s growth into the formidable filmmaker he is today.
Likewise, when Brendan awakens to Tug’s monologue about his relationship with Emily, Tug completes his speech by asking Brendan, “Are you awake?” Had he merely been speaking to himself, baring his soul to a sleeping Brendan, or stylistically giving a soliloquy of his inner turmoil? Ambiguous choices like these are what interest me most in the film. They are the lifeblood of cinema and reserved opera that Johnson would gravitate toward throughout the rest of his career, whether in Star Wars, Breaking Bad or The Brothers Bloom. I think this is clearest in his use of the football field as the definitive stage of conflict. Walk around any high school campus in the US, and there is no more cinematic location than the football field. It is the largest and most common performance theater in the country. Amphitheater seating framing both sides, and spotlights towering overhead, illuminating the truth of every player on the field. It’s no coincidence that Johnson chooses this location for so many of the most emotionally charged moments of the movie, including the finale. Our protagonist and central antagonist confront each other one last time on the football field to fight it out, not with violence but with cunning and emotional ferocity. In a true film noir conclusion: Brendan succeeds in his mission but is grievously wounded in doing so. He receives a brutal revelation, and in spite of that, has to find a way to go on living in a cruel, unforgiving world. True to the high school metaphor, Brendan has to collect himself and put on a composed face in spite of the hardships he’s still facing. We all try our hardest to fit in with the high school archetype we most long to be. Brendan’s ultimate tragedy is that the archetype he chooses to be is unfeeling.
Before we conclude, I also wanted to ask, what’s something you hope Johnson took with him going into Star Wars? I mean, besides the inevitable Joseph Gordon Levitt and Noah Segan cameos.
Matt: See, it’s tough, because as much as I’m looking forward to The Last Jedi (A Rian Johnson Star Wars movie!), Disney/Lucasfilm’s creative grip on the franchise is so tight, I already know we probably won’t be getting anything quite as audacious as Brick, as silly and heartwarming as The Brothers Bloom, or as mind-bending as Looper. So it’s going to be less Rian Johnson’s Star Wars, and more Star Wars, directed by Rian Johnson, if that makes sense. But maybe that’s alright. After all, the last time anyone experimented too freely with Star Wars we got the prequel trilogy, and the less said about those movies the better. Honestly though, the more we’ve talked about Brick, the more I’m convinced that Johnson is the best kind of director to be put in charge of Star Wars. He’s done such a great job balancing recognizable, human characters against otherwise ridiculous stories, and I think Star Wars is at its best when those elements click together. He’s also proved, with his work on Breaking Bad, that he can work within the confines of someone else’s universe. Johnson’s not a mercenary workman, but like Taika Waititi with Thor: Ragnarok, I think he’s an original and strong enough talent that he can balance the strict limitations of huge studio work with his own unique creative voice.
Something I noticed about Brick, too, was that, in any scene with multiple people in it, there was always something happening in the background. In the case we discussed above, seeing Tug in the background of that scene with Dode was crucial, but in others, you’d see something like actors in drama class performing while a conversation happened, or party-goers enthralled by Brad’s kingly oration. (His theatrical telling and retelling of the coach benching him is an amazing character beat, by the way.) It’s not always crucial to the story, but it trains you to pay attention to things that aren’t necessarily obvious, and it helps bring the world to life. Star Wars movies have had plenty of scenes that benefit from a strong sense of background, or mise en scene (the Mos Eisley Cantina, anyone?), so I’d also like to see Johnson keep that attention to detail. Make sure something’s always happening in the background to keep things interesting. God knows the Star Wars universe is rich enough to support it.
And lastly, to go back to my earlier point about Brick’s fight scenes, I’d like to see some of that down and dirty practical style in the Star Wars universe. As much as I’m ready to see Luke throw down with the Force (and I am READY to see Luke throw down), I want that fight scene they’ve teased between Finn and Phasma to be rough. We know Finn’s no stranger to being the underdog in a one-sided fight, but let’s see how he handles himself when neither of the combatants have Force powers.
What are you hoping to see?
Eddie: It might be naive to admit, but I believe Rian Johnson when he says that he’s had as much creative freedom on The Last Jedi as he’s had on any film. The director problems at Lucasfilm are obviously very real, but they also are kind of specific to those directors. The departure of Phil Lord and Chris Miller, whom I deeply love, makes sense. Improvisational comedy, while probably something Star Wars needs, isn’t in keeping with the regal product that Lucasfilm sees this franchise as being. Colin Trevorrow’s departure from Episode IX, though, is honestly just the right call. Trevorrow’s directorial history and choices are pretty suspect at this point, and Abrams is definitely a safer choice to close out this trilogy.
But by all accounts, Johnson pitched Lucasfilm head Kathleen Kennedy a story that she loved and made it without any hiccups along the way. Recent interviews have revealed that Johnson literally just asked if he could do a new trilogy with new characters without so much as a story pitch, and Kennedy handed him the keys to the kingdom. This level of confidence and support leads me to believe that The Last Jedi is exactly what Johnson wanted it to be. Sure, it may not be a grand departure from what The Force Awakens set up, but I have to believe that Johnson was able to produce the film he’s always wanted to make. I mean, as we’ve both agreed here, Johnson is the exact right choice for this series, and kind of a nerd fantasy come true.
What do I want to see? I kind of already got it. Like you said, “A Rian Johnson Star Wars movie!” As long as the story feels like his, and he makes good use of the universe and characters I love, I’ll be happy. Johnson has a way with building little worlds and memorable characters, and Star Wars already has a huge world to experiment in and great characters to play with. Honestly, half of his work was done before he walked through the door. Now we just get to sit back and watch a great filmmaker have a blast. And I really hope he does, because I’m sure you and I (and millions of other Star Wars fans) will be having a blast this weekend, as well.
(But dope lightsaber stuff would be cool, too.)
This article originally ran December 2017, on Narrativity.com.
