On Benny’s Video: a failed attempt at commentary on a film & our society

The media has replaced your reality with Folger’s crystals. Let’s see if you notice.

I recently viewed the film Benny’s Video, a 1992 film described by the all-knowing Wikipedia as a “horror of personality” film. In discussing it with friends I’ve drawn connections with the film Requiem for a Dream: this isn’t a film you watch for vicarious thrills or to relax and be comfortable. Watching Requiem for a Dream is as comfortable as laying down on a bed of rusty nails: if you let yourself get too comfortable you get stabbed and it hurts. Benny’s Video is much the same but where Requiem discusses the dehumanizing addictions of modern society, Benny’s discusses the idea of lack of grounding in reality that comes from viewing violence on films.

The 30 second summary of the film is that Benny is an upper middle class teenager obsessed with film and video. He films his life and his family’s life constantly and rents violent films from the local video store. When his family has a pig killed for food, he videotapes the death of the pig and eventually, while watching the film with a girl, they play with the gun used to kill the pig. It doesn’t end well. Hijinks ensue.

Hijinks is the wrong word. This isn’t a murder is funny movie and it isn’t a thriller about trying to hide the body. I’ve described the film to a few people who think it’s going to be a “dawn of a serial killer” film but it isn’t even that. Benny wrestles with guilt. It’s never clear if he wanted to hurt the girl or if it was just an accident. In the moment after the girl is first shot, even Benny seems surprised.

For some reason I was constantly thinking of the violence in a show like Dr. Who, where the special effects are weak and the violence often involves a lot of running. Especially in the Eccleston and Tenant years, the Doctor is portrayed as a creature of immense guilt, at times callous but always aware of the lives he hurts. Benny watches movies constantly during the first part of film and is exposed to cartoon violence, serious violence, dramatic violence, and none of it really touches him. In the first days after the murder, he barely seems process what has happened. It isn’t until he watches his film of it that things start coming together for him.

The director, Michael Haneke, describes in an interview how much safer film is than reality. Haneke says we “allow feelings more when faced with an image but not when facing a person because it’s more dangerous. The image can’t react anymore. the images is finished. That’s why you can be relaxed and look at it.” In the case of Benny’s Video, Benny only process himself when he watches himself through a video screen. The moments of the film that he doesn’t film vanish from his life, forgotten, even a fairly major argument with a friend disappears by the end of the movie.

In an era where so much of our dialogue is public and online with blogs, Twitter, Facebook, etc, I wonder if this isn’t more relevant: the arguments I’ve seen on Facebook seem so much more real now that they sit there on your screen and can be revisited years later. An evening of questionable decision-making fifteen years ago would leave memories, now the photos are more spread than ever and the damage reaped can be so much more serious.

Or… is it? I often argue that the most powerful tool in our repertoire of psychological healing skills is “self acceptance” and maybe these things allow us to see ourselves more clearly- a better mirror than hazy memory. A person with passive aggressive tendencies can look back at their Facebook statuses and see the record of their passive aggression, an alcoholic has the records to help them face the consistency of their drinking problems.

The director discusses the control that possessing film and video records gives us over our pass in ways that describe it as a bad thing, describing filming vacations as “perverse” and discussing feeling of control people gain by having videos and photographs of events. “If I have an image,” he says, describing the prevailing mindset, “I own it.” He talks about being able to rewind and undo moments and describes this as a disorienting, damaging thing. Partially, I agree.

After all, the public record of videos and photos in media (both social media and professional media) has given us a sense of distance from our actions and for some people, that distance results in a lack of conscience. For others, it results in serious consequences when they fail to account for what happens when others see what used to be private or, at least, unrecorded. I’m reminded of some commentary concerning the recent Miss Teen Delaware Melissa King and her supposed “sex tape.” The existence of the film ruined her career as a Miss Teen, yet some people have articulated that the resulting media furor may be “the best thing to happen to her career.”

Shared media concerning our flaws has ruined so many lives and careers from politicians sending pictures to young girls over twitter to teenagers hazing fellow students by photoshopping images to damage their reputation. If we have the image, we own it; even if it never actually happened.

But there is a counterthought I have as well: these flaws, these moments of failure and weakness where we make mistakes and due stupid things caught on record in some ways are a gift. They allow us to revisit those moments and learn to accept ourselves, even the parts of our selves that may embarrass us in front of others.

In focusing on blaming the media of video or photography for making us disoriented, we miss a key role these media can play in our lives by reminding us of our pasts. In essence, sometimes the media can be a messenger, revealing a truth that we were afraid to face about ourselves. In these cases, though, it seems we blame the media instead of the root causes.

I’m reminded of the recent Seth McFarlane Oscar hosting debacle where McFarlane received much criticism for pointing out the sexuality and gender expectations that happen in Hollywood. I won’t say he is blameless, but I will say the pressure for nudity and the disrespect of women/minorities in Hollywood existed long before comedians joked about it. In a sense, it seems like we as a society blame the “truth teller” instead of the underlying factors.

In the film Benny’s Video, Benny is certainly desensitized to violence by his relationship with it on film, but he also uses film to come to grips with his actions and their consequences in a very real situation. He doesn’t want to forget what he did but he also doesn’t revel in it and as his parents try to make it disappear and avoid all mention of it, he takes ownership of his crime despite not fully understanding his actions. I argue that sort of behavior: owning your past instead of hiding it, understanding your transgressions instead of denying them, is the only road to truth, self acceptance, and ultimately emotional health.

This film raises many questions for me and it’s cold, distanced delivery can leave the viewer numb to all the emotion that the characters experience even as they attempt to forget the experiences they have. I highly recommend it but the movie offers the viewer only as much respite as the characters in the movie give themselves.

Rating: Definitely see again soon.

Here’s the trailer:

Pip Lies: Why the least ambitious character in Quarter Share may be the most inspiring @nlowell

One of the first things to capture me in reading Nathan Lowell’s novel Quarter Share was the development of the main character and his sidekick, Ishmael and Pip. I found myself identifying with Ishmael’s forward thinking, boundary breaking, paradigm shakeup attitude and laser like focus but I also identified with Pip’s just-getting-by lifestyle and how he seems to have given up on his ambitions till he meets his Ishmael. The story is never that simple in great novels and the more I learned about Pip, the more complicated he became.

He is first major memorable moment is as a sidekick, nay-saying Ishmael’s world-shaking coffee-making exploits. As Ishmael completely redoes the entire way the ship does coffee, his reaction is a mix of excitement (dude you’re making waves but this might be awesome) and fear (dude you might be making me irrelevant). He was the veteran coworker both impressed with and frightened by a new coworker with exciting ideas to improve how things get done.

The more we learn about Pip’s deferred hopes and dreams, the more he appears to be a foil for Ishmael- fascinated by Ishmael’s insights and out of the box ideas for making a way in the world but scared to break the safe status quo that he has created for himself aboard their ship, the Lois McKendrick, especially given his not so happy history on other ships.

But the entire time there is another side to Pip. He’s our guide in to the world of trading, mercantilism, and a number of the basics of Ishmael’s new life aboard the Lois. Sometimes he’s the wise guide, but sometimes he is the trickster who purposefully and good naturedly messes with Ishmael.

By the point in the story I am at, he almost functions as a second protagonist. If Quarter Share is the saga of trying to find a way in the universe, then Pip shares the same quest as Ishmael. However, Pip seems to be ashamed of his ambitions, hiding from the crew his side trading gig, even though it turns out that most of the crew of the Lois is also engaged in the same activity. Pip’s ongoing struggles between laying low and pursuing ambition create a dramatic tension. Unlike Ishmael, who has little to lose by risking trying new things, Pip has an established “place” on the Lois that could be jeopardized by trying and failing or making waves.

By halfway through the book, both Pip and Ishmael are learning surprising and disorienting things about how things work- both in the deep dark and on the Lois. Sometimes their quests intersect- like when they team up to sell belts. Sometimes they don’t- when Pip tries to walk around alone a strange space station carrying tons of cash and hijinks ensue.

I had the opportunity to have a brief Twitter conversation with the author before writing this to get his take on Pip. This conversation is a major reason I’m referring to the ship as “the Lois” instead of “the McKendrick.” His first response was to caution me about everything we learn about pip since it is filtered through our narrator Ishmael. Also he inadvertently titled this post by cryptically saying, “Pip lies.”

Lowell sees Pip as a window to the world outside the world, something I agree with in a way. Pip gives our introduction to other ships (mercantile family ships, for example) and is a significant part of getting Ishmael off-ship when the Lois is in port, though I keep feeling we also have the other characters, especially the couple of “not-quite-potential-love-interests” that keep popping up, one of which by where I am in the story has made Ishmael her boy toy.

Among the other roles Lowell identifies Pip playing include “comic relief and combination sidekick and sounding board.” Pip’s presence certainly provides humor and drama to scenes that otherwise might have been very static if we only had Ishmael thinking to himself or trying to learn how to put on a space suit. He and Ishmael make great conversation partners as, even though they rarely directly disagree, they have very interesting dialogue as they leap frog off of each others ideas as they make their increasingly grandiose plans.

Pip begins as the innocuous doubting sidekick and serves a number of roles in the story. Despite the number of differences between Pip and Ishmael, what I take away from Pip as I read this book is not dissimilar from what I take away from Ishmael.

Pip is the protagonist in his own story, much as Ishmael is the protagonist in his, but truly everyone is the hero in their own story and gets to make the choice to dare like Pip and Ishmael both do or to be content.

Like Pip, despite not being a hero in a novel, we are all the protagonist in our lives and able to make decisions that lead us both farther from and closer to our dreams- whether that is by thinking outside the box and living by your own paradigms as Ishmael does or analyzing and taking advantage of existing systems as Pip does or simply putting in a good day’s work and relaxing with your friends as Cookie does.

As I writer, I take away from Pip the ability to start with the stereotypical “sidekick goofball” and turn the character into a fully fleshed out character with their own needs and drives that does not rely on the actions of the main character. As a reader, I find Pip inspiring.

Ishmael may be an exceptional person, but the Pip is reminds us that we are all exceptional people and at any moment have the power to pursue the lives we want. Just be cautious if he asks you to loan him money.

For future consideration: The role of the Lois and her crew in fostering the development of these two people.