If you thought writing about a real movie that I saw in a cineplex would finally take this blog away from it's Hallmark-infused madness, well, sorry to say, there is a Hallmark connection in Knives Out (it's inescapable).
But we don't need to talk about that.
Modern cinema is overwhelmed by giant tentpole superhero, sci-fi, fantasy and action movies. These are big, expensive products designed almost entirely as distraction, a refuge from our toxic world (both literally and metaphorically toxic). They are generally doing such amazing numbers because they provide a fantasy, an alternate life where the concerns, even if metaphorically the same, are different enough to escape our reality. But present anything approaching social or political messaging, and the blowback (from a very certain faction of right-wing trolls) can be fierce. Rian Johnson experienced this firsthand with Star Wars The Last Jedi.
So instead of continuing in the realm of what's currently popular, or focusing on that new Star Wars trilogy he may or may not still be doing, Johnson decided to turn his attention to the genre of murder mystery and create something original.
Murder mysteries are likewise an escape genre, only in this case the hero is a cerebral sleuth, and the villain(s) needs to be teased out. While invested in a murder mystery, the audience engages with the film much in the same way an audience engages with a Star Wars movie, in that they're trying to pay attention to the details, not just what someone is saying, but what is happening in the background, and how the scene is set, some elements which are relevant, some that are not.
As he did with space opera genre in The Last Jedi, Johnson plays with the tropes of the "whodunit" genre, he plays with the expectations of the audience. You think you know how these work, but he's not working that way. In fact, before the end of the first act, he reveals the how, the why, the when and the who. The usual endgame of a murder mystery has the ace detective revealing all this information, rather than the murder all but confessing, then spending the rest of the film trying to cover their tracks.
But, is that really the case here? Murder mysteries are constantly trying to fake you out, but then the question is: is the fake-out a fake-out in itself, or is that fake-out just you faking yourself out?
Johnson provides the audience with an all-star cast (that includes Daniel Craig, Chris Evans, Jamie Lee Curtis, Lakeith Stanfield, Michael Shannon, Don Johnson, Toni Collette, Christopher Plummer and Ana De Armas) to guide the story through its clue-finding procedural and to engage an audience for another 75 minutes after we've already found out what's happened. Will Craig's ace detective be able to suss out the murderer despite them covering up their tracks in front of him? Is he (and, vicariously, are we) picking up clues that tell a different story? And what is the deal with this family, what other mysteries haven't we uncovered yet, related or unrelated.
This is where Johnson can't help himself and where those right-wing trolls are likely to lose it again. Christopher Plummer is resoundingly successful (and wealthy) author. His son (Shannon) runs the publishing house that prints his books, but Plummer refuses to license out his novels. His daughter (Curtis), is a "self-made woman" in that her dad funded her millions to get her going. His widowed daughter-in-law (Collette) is a social media tastemaker, but earns nothing on her own. His one grandson (Evans) is a self-entitled shiftless prick, while another grandson (Jaeden Martell) spends his time being a right wing troll online. Ana De Armas is Plummer's nurse -- and friend -- the only person in his life who wants nothing from him but his health and well being. He sees in his family the folly of privilege and his choice to cut them all off from his wealth, to force them to stand on their own. To feel not only desperation but perhaps also accomplishment is his gift. But his death reveals in these characters, in this family, that the very idea of not being wealthy is shameful, that their sense of entitlement makes them bitter, not better, and that their very identity is wrapped up in his wealth.
At one point we're thrown into a conversation, one likely very familiar in homes in America around this time of year, discussing immigration issues with xenophobic conservative viewpoints clashing with bleeding heart liberal ones, both sides are a regurgitation of distilled talking points that reduce human beings to objects to be argued over. Armas' character, who everyone continues to insist is "treated as a member of the family" is pulled into the conversation but only as a prop to reinforce the views on both sides, never actually listening to anything she might have to say on the matter. She is constantly said to be "like family" but she most certainly isn't. This is something they say to make themselves feel better about treating her as a servant, and perhaps to express their jealousy to the nature of her friendship with their father.
Does this politicize the movie? It sure does. But if that politicization makes you uncomfortable, that discomfort is a reflection of your own discomfort in your bias. People lash out when they are called out on their bad thinking or behavior because they know it's wrong, they just don't want to admit it. The subtext of the film is that the wealthy feel entitled to their wealth, and that they're fearful of "the others", whether that's immigrants, or the poor, or the establishment (here marked by the police or legal system) taking it from them. They spend a lot of energy (thoroughly exhausting their father's attorney, Frank Oz) trying to figure out how to contest their father's will, and even when told there's no possible resolution, they still refuse to accept the answer, and start resorting to manipulating and pressuring each other into more extreme behavior.
This isn't the film saying "white people are bad" but it's commenting that the class structures in place in America lead to further and further extremes as the wealthy try to hoard their wealth. And yes, most of that wealth lands in the laps of white Americans who are desperately trying to deflect their own complicity in the disintegrating nature of this social construct which oppresses most everyone else who doesn't already have what they have. It affirms that those who make it do so off the backs of their families who have already made it.
But again, that's background subtext that makes for a richer (pardon the pun) experience. It's an engaging, engrossing and highly entertaining production, with a wonderful setting, fantastic performances,catty humour, and a mystery that isn't a mystery, yet Johnson still dangles a carrot in front of the audience - so confident in his use of the tropes - to keep the audience looking for clues.
With Watchmen just wrapping up on TV, putting a very damning bow on the whole nostalgia of people in masks, with Endgame providing a concluding point to a 10-year experiment in storytelling, with a CW Crisis being the biggest crossover in TV history, with Superman revealing his secret identity in comics... there's a sense that superheros have reached their apex in popular culture and it's downhill from there. Is it time for the cerebral sleuth to make a big comeback? Is the way forward to have heroes who are paying attention? Though more Kenneth Branagh Poirot sleuthing is on the way, is there a place for modern whodunits or does it always need someone like Johnson, with a hyperawareness of tropes and cliches and how to break/avoid them, to make a true success.
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