Argo, or: Mastering the art of half-assery

Argo (2012)

Directed by Ben Affleck

***SPOILERS***

Am I going insane? Is my heart slowly shrinking, or withering away? Or am I just turning into a stubborn old fart (at the ripe age of 25)?

I spent the better part of my Argo viewing experience trying to keep my eyes from rolling 180 degrees and visiting the front of my brain. After a thrilling, methodically paced opening sequence, the movie quickly settled into what it would inevitably become (an emotionally manipulative thriller), but apparently nobody in my vicinity (a crowded theater) shared this feeling. I started snickering to myself as Tony (Ben Affleck) dropped his jaw and pored into his television while watching Planet of the Apes with his son, at that moment realizing his new plan to save six American hostages. Oh really, is that how that went down?  Then the cast of Tony's fake film "Argo" read their script to the press...and it's soon accompanied by a grandiose orchestra while several hostages detained by Iranians are lined up, ready to be killed. As the script-reading reached it's climax...the guns went off! But wait, they didn't! Woof! *wipes sweat off brow* That was close. I would've thrown my hands in the air and screamed, "What the fuck?!" if there wasn't an undeniably heavy silence hanging over the theater's occupants. And then I start noticing that every, and I mean EVERY single Iranian character in this film either looks angry or scared or in awe of Tony's storyboard drawings. And then God himself apparently doesn't want these Americans to escape, because it's Final Destination up in this bitch and every single possible inanimate object is malfunctioning and fucking up Tony's bat-shit insane rescue plan. And then—and THEN—I seriously want to start laughing, turn to my unknown neighbor, elbow his shoulder and ask, "This shit is stupid, amirite?" Because lo and behold, Argo does that sort of pandering  where they insert a few title cards to answer the question, "Where are they now?!" and the information is displayed over...TONY'S SON'S STAR WARS FIGURINES. Accompanied by somber music to capture just how kick-ass Tony is as both a spy and a loving father, I was ready to berate the fuck outta this movie.

And then it ends. There's complete silence. Then a clap. Then more clapping. Then everybody talking about how much they loved it. And it's got a 94% on Rotten Tomatoes. And an 86 on Metacritic. Perfect scores, right and left. It'll probably be on the IMBD Top 250 by the end of this review. And then me, basking in my own silence.

I understand why people love Argo. I'd be lying to say this wasn't a first-rate thriller in terms of pacing (it flies by), a politically relevant and historically important film (most of the people in my audience lived through this stuff), and acted the fuck out of by Affleck, Bryan Cranston, John Goodman, and Alan Arkin. Affleck (also directing) was audacious to embrace a film that tiptoes the line of racial politics and narrative absurdity, balancing them modestly (on the surface, anyway). The score is quick and intense. There are several gripping moments. And everybody is eating it up. So instead of me questioning the world, people can instead look at me and ask, "OK dude, what's wrong this time?"

Argo isn't a film I hate by any stretch of the imagination. The film is irresponsible in its portrayal of the Iranians during the 1979 Canadian Caper, but not to the extent of, say, The Help, which brushes aside that whole Civil Rights thing, pats white people on the back and says, "It's OK! It wasn't your fault!" Or Slumdog Millionaire, which details the streets of Mumbai as an erotic fairy tale while white-washing all of its inhabitants. Really, most of the instances I listed in the first paragraph aren't reasons to hate a film. These are the kind of observations the Rex Reeds or the Roger Eberts or the James Berardinellis of the world would make and use as legitimate points. In an effort to paint my theater experience, I wanted to note how fucking absurd Argo can be, yet show how it has nothing to do with its quality. So sitting down and mapping out the trajectory of the film, I realized that it wasn't these silly moments that shaped my own crazy experience, but instead a rather depressing realization that Argo was, above all, incredibly underwhelming. Because behind all these moments was the art of complete and utter half-assery, which rendered Argo's own fucked up politics one of the least offensive portions of this film.

The first step in mastering the art of half-assery (which I do believe screenwriter Chris Terrio has down to a tee) is to make your movie way bigger and more sprawling then it needs to be. Tony Mendez's real-life actions were heroic and untouchable, but Terrio's effort to surround Tony with problems and weigh them entirely on his shoulders is flawed from the get-go. The grandiosity of the Canadian Caper is given an in-depth, voyeuristic treatment in the opening scenes, telling the story of Iranian turmoil with cartoons and capturing how dire and horrific the hostage situation truly was. Undoubtedly important in depicting the other side of the crisis, Argo isn't an expansive film—it's internal, despite Tony's presence at a spy agency. We are intimately involved with Mendez, with Jack (Bryan Cranston), and with all the hostages. The movie attempts to find the emotional turmoil behind both the claustrophobic situation surrounding the hostages and the expansive terrorist situation at hand. It's much easier for George Clooney to find the emotional power behind politics with a contained film like The Ides of March. It becomes much harder to explore both sides of the spectrum, and even harder to when both sides involve the internal and external aspects of terrorism.

But hey, not when you're practicing half-assery.

So where to begin? I guess if you're going to half-ass the scope of your film, you might as well half-ass your themes and motifs. There have been several films about filmmaking, and Argo didn't necessarily need to explore those grounds. But it wanted to explore those grounds (along with many others) because, hey, it's Oscar season. If you disagree about Argo's intentions...well, I know I'm not the only one who thought so, as Indiewire.com published a list called "Films About Filmmaking", in light of both Argo and Seven Psychopaths. I mean, when you're narrating a hostage shooting sequence with the reading of Tony's fake movie, employing an intense orchestra and panning right-to-left between both the actors and the hostages in a clear effort to CONNECT THEM, you know you're trying to send a message...

...but what message? What does Tony's fake film really have to do with the Canadian Caper? There are several instances where this occurs, such as when Joe (Scoot McNairy) explains the plot of "Argo" (there's that music again) as two Iranians look on in awe of its relevance to their own nation's struggle, or when Tony hugs his son as the camera pans over several of his Star Wars figurines. The idea of movies existing alongside this mission is a strange bridge to gap, but can be explored in several different ways:

Perhaps film itself forms an emotional connection to Tony's past?

Maybe the intricacies of this fake film coincide with the real-world politics at hand, making Tony's mission relevant politically and, for Argo's sake, thematically?

Maybe the idea of faking a film is meant to juxtapose the strikingly dire, real-life consequences if Tony's plan fails?

The inspiration really can't be pinpointed because Affleck and Terrio are half-assing this one. I dare you to point out when, how, or in what fucking way "Argo" fits alongside the hostage crisis. It's one thing to simply allow it to exist, but Terrio and Affleck tamper and chip away at the idea so often and brazenly that it's hard to imagine where the inspiration lies.

Close-Up chose to explore the meaning of film in Hossain's life by inserting the man into his own film, allowing him to become the storyteller. 8½ explored the sporadic mind of a confused filmmaker, trying to balance his own capricious needs against his art. Mulholland Dr. exposed the horrific pressure placed upon women in Hollywood through the tragic fairy tale constructed in Betty's mind. But with Argo, where's the art? Where's the humanity behind this fake tale? Where's the meaning? I understand it was a historical event, but it's what the filmmakers chose to do with the material that renders it meaningless. So as the emotionally striking orchestra plays over the script-reading and a fake hostage shooting, I'm thinking one of two things: either these filmmakers are utterly inept in forming any kind of non-demeaning, humanistic connection between the "Argo" and the hostage situation, or these filmmakers are simply employing these tactics to manipulate our emotions.

Sadly, it's a little bit of both.

The ineptitude portion of such half-assery is in full force with this theme, thus translating to the characters. Tony looks upon the script-reading, guzzling alcohol and appearing depressed, all because he's nervous about his mission's shortcomings. But in this constructed moment from the filmmakers, the emotional connection lies in the face, the acting, the music, but not the thematic underbelly. It's this sort of light touch that just simply doesn't translate throughout the film, especially Tony's detached relationship from his son. Here we have an interesting theme (in addition to the filmmaking one) where people in Tony and Lester's (Alan Arkin) committed line of work are also shitty parents, unable to distribute the proper attention to their families as well as their jobs.

But once again other films come to mind, such as Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy or Army of Shadows (or any Jean-Pierre Melville film), both of which hammer away at the solitude and dissolution of such an alienating career. Argo isn't committed to this idea, but instead scattering "moments" throughout the film, such as sending a letter to your son, missing a phone call, or receiving an overdue hug from your wife. This, of course, relays the message, but for Argo it's resolutely disappointing, as many films are committed to the idea of a "film within a film" or "the alienation of a spy", but Argo wants to be both (and even more—which I'm getting to). And to do so in the two-hour run-time? They'll have to half-ass it.

But oh no, Argo isn't done there.

In addition to being a film about filmmaking and a film about separation, Argo is, above all, a thriller, using every method in the book to disguise itself as one. I've already discussed the score, the panning, the fiery acting. People lining up to be shot. The last-second getaways. The inconceivably good and bad luck. This is grade-A edge-of-your-seat shit right here. But much like the aforementioned themes were emotionally manipulative, these scenes manipulate the nerves as well. The masters of the genre understand thrill lies in the silence and not the storm, but Terrio and Affleck have found a way to render such a phrase useless, as each of their "thrills" are constructed, otherworldly events that are either demeaning to the viewer's sense of reality or the characters' Iranian opponents (and our perception of them).

Thrills are often fluid and in-the-moment, and most often they derive from a character's actions. The thrill during the jewelry-robbing scene from Le Cercle Rouge lies in the meticulousness of the thieves' proceedings, the utter need to remain silent, and the inattentive guard who could awake at any moment. The opening scene of Drive thrills because Driver dictates his environment, mastering his work and craft before our very eyes. Hell, Final Destination 5 was a glorious example of how external forces control our lives, from banal, everyday objects to basic attributes of our soul-draining jobs. The absolute focus on these objects as each death scene meticulously builds towards its bloody climax is a glorious reinforcement of this theme.

Unfortunately for Argo, which actually resembles Final Destination more than Le Cercle Rouge or Drive, its own face-palm-inducing moments of otherworldly awful luck are contrived and irrelevant to anything around it. Affleck has mentioned in interviews that the entire final thrill of Argo is a(n excessive) use of "dramatic license", aka: none of this shit actually happened. And it's abundantly clear. There was a last-second approval situation from the President, but it was never a delayed mission, or even ever really in question of proceeding. This moment renders Tony's gaze into the Iranian landscape useless and manufactured, as this was the moment he decided to disrupt authority for...who knows? Why this is so important to him again? Anyway, from there the "last-second approval" as the airport checks for tickets is the result of the filmmakers, not the characters, along with all the scenes that follow. As the ever-disgruntled Iranian questions and berates the hostages, it's not until the last fucking possible second that Joe steps forward and reveals he speaks the language. Then as the man calls Tony's fake studio, John (John Goodman) and Lester narrowly answer at the last second...only because they were detained by a film-in-progress in a mindnumbingly obvious series of events. And then the brake on the transporting car gives out, the soldiers can't break through the glass, the police cars are slowly approaching the plane...and none of it fucking matters. None of it is relevant in the slightest sense, but rather only in building the "thrill".

But the cheapest thrill of Argo is the biggest, half-assiest half-ass moment of all, when the Iranian soldiers line up their hostages to be shot. Let's put it this way: I've done a better job building up this moment than Terrio and Affleck. It's almost as abrupt as it is irresponsible, utilizing the mundane and altogether untrue "evil" side of the Iranians behind the Canadian Caper as the most blatant moment of emotional manipulation in Argo. An undeniably disturbing sequence to witness, it's juxtaposed alongside the script-reading as a thematically relevant sequence, as well as an emotionally weighing moment upon Tony...despite the fact that neither of those themes or character motifs are thoroughly developed. So the theme isn't connected, it doesn't hold the personal meaning for Tony, it isn't a technically apt or emotionally striking in the thrill department, and it re-enforces the belligerent American attitude towards a politically touchy and complicated situation.

In a single scene, Terrio and Affleck were able to capture the laziness behind their narrative and filmmaking process as a whole, as Affleck's snail-paced watchful eye connects these actors reading the script and the hostages at hand...and it just doesn't make sense. Thematically, emotionally, visually, and thrillingly, none of Argo's many parts are connected or, in turn, really all that impressive in retrospect. And while I may have been giddy about Argo's preposterousness during the moment, I'm now left with nothing but disappointment. Partly because so many people love this manipulative film, but mostly because I put more work into this review than Terrio and Affleck put into the incredibly half-assed Argo.