I Dream of a Good Second Act
Article by Robert Carnevale
Christopher Nolan has never been an actors’ director. He’ll routinely cast the best and brightest actors in the business and merely use them as chess pieces for boards representing his high-concept plots. And that's okay with me. I don't mind that Leonardo DiCaprio was somewhat underutilized in Inception. At the end of the day, Inception's still probably my favorite movie. It's a fearless film that squanders actors in the service of fueling its strongest character: its concept.
What makes a movie good—in my opinion—is when it doesn't rely on actors to carry the dull moments. Rather, it simply has so few dull or unintelligible moments that the plot itself can do the heavy lifting. When any story, be it in a novel or movie or video game, relies on snappy dialogue and excellent delivery to hide a bland plot, I view that as a failure. At that point, the story is a poorly baked cake with top-tier icing. The actors, or the writers’ characters, are just bandages on a wound. Nolan, outside of a few missteps such as Tenet (which lacks good execution of its core concept and features horribly miscast actors like John David Washington), generally seems to understand and apply this philosophy to his filmmaking efforts. That's why Inception has no dull moments.
Inception's central character—its foundational idea of traveling through dreams—is so strong and well conceived that it finds new ways to excite viewers across every single minute of the film's runtime. The actors just roll wherever the story takes them. The onus is never on them to keep the audience engaged. That's why when people talk about Inception, they say, "Inception, oh, my. What a time! Wicked cool idea! Great story. Made me think." instead of "I really liked X's performance." The latter is a bland compliment. It congratulates the technical elements of the film instead of the film itself. To paraphrase something Roger Deakins said, if a person is focused on the cinematography or some other individual aspect of a production, they're not being mentally transported by the film. They're not in love with the story. And doesn't that defeat the purpose of moviemaking? It's one thing to love and respect the components that come together to make a film. But if they're what you walk out of the theater thinking about, and you're not seeing the forest for the trees, then the film has, in some respect, failed you. It hasn't taken your imagination to a new place. It hasn't encouraged you to grow and think differently about yourself and the world around you. All the film did was remind you that there are talented people out there who know how to move a camera, light a room, or play pretend.
And that's what makes Inception so special: it never fails its viewer by letting the story slack. It doesn't offer viewers an opportunity to obsess over the technical components. Even during the second act, which is when most stories get boring, Inception refuses to let up. It uses that period of time to double- and triple- down on all of its sci-fi concepts, exploring them to the fullest while simultaneously forcing its characters to develop and grow. It's a masterclass in utilizing a story's potential to the maximum. People don't walk out of Inception going, "oh, I wish it'd gone a bit further with its ideas." People walk out satisfied because Nolan uses all three of Inception's acts as effectively as humanly possible. Every scene dares people to think, solidifying Inception as a rarity in modern storytelling.
Article Written by Robert Carnevale
Robert Carnevale is the author of Cold War 2395, a brand new military sci-fi full of twists and turns, gripping space battles, and compelling characters. Check it out, and let the adventure begin!