V for Vanity

In terms of source material, V for Vendetta is easily the most intelligent of the latest slew of comic-book based films (and even possibly of all of them). While most comic book movies are content to be slam-bang, a hundred thrill-a-minute action films, this movie dares to be different by tackling a rather sensitive theme: terrorism.

Unfortunately, the filmmakers, most significantly screenwriters Andy and Larry Wachowski of Matrix fame (or infamy depending on which installments we're talking about) trade Alan Moore's caricatured allegory of Thatcher's England for a hit-you-over-the-head diatribe against the Bush government. And it is here that the movie stumbles. I say this as someone who utterly despises Dubya and his policies.

The movie is set in a totalitarian London taken right out of George Orwell's 1984. Civil liberties are a thing of the past, and the whole nation is run by the iron fist of High Chancellor Adam Sutler (John Hurt). Enter V (Hugo Weaving), a one-time political dissident whose body has been radically altered by horrific genetic experiments conducted by the government on many of its political prisoners in a secret detention center. V is at once a freedom fighter, a poet, a master swordsman, and a madman. He spends the entire movie concealed behind a Guy Fawkes mask and under a page-boy wig. In the course of the movie, of course, we're made to understand why.

In the course of his clash with the government, V rescues and is rescued by a twenty-something employee of a state-run television station, Evey Hammond (Natalie Portman). He pulls off a particularly daring raid on a television station, sending an anti-government broadcast all across London which sets the police, led by Inspector Finch (Stephen Rea), on his trail. Apparently, he plans to blow up Parliament on November 5 of the next year, just as historical figure Guy Fawkes attempted to do in the 1600s.

What follows is the unravelling of the mystery of who V is and how he came to be, as well as his rather intimate relationship to the government and its dark secrets.

Writer Alan Moore has openly disowned this movie, and although it is entertaining in its own right, it is easy to see why. The problem posed, really, is an ideological one. I've never actually read it, but I've heard that Moore's original graphic novel juxtaposed fascism against anarchy. V was not out to restore people's civil liberties, but simply to destroy the establishment and replace it with its antithesis. V is an anti-hero, in short, and this is evident even in his relationship with Evey, which, although still somewhat dark in the movie, has apparently been romanticized considerably from its original incarnation in the comics.

The problem here is that, rather than preserve the integrity of Alan Moore's original vision, the Wachowskis would rather preserve their own message that Bush is the devil incarnate, so they refuse to saddle V with character quirks such as moral ambiguity. V, a man who wants to blow up buildings and who murders at least two dozen people in the course of the film, is depicted as a man on the side of the angels, which is actually somewhat dangerous.

A good character to compare V to, if only because they both are anti-heroes, is Tom Hanks' world-weary hitman in The Road to Perdition (also a comic-book adaptation). Never once did Sam Mendes and screenwriter David Self try to convince us that Hanks' character is anything other than a killer. He's a sympathetic character, to be sure, but he is a bad guy who does bad things, whose fate at the end fo the movie is practically pre-ordained. That we identify with him and his moral quandary is one of the movie's triumphs.

V, by contrast, is even more murderous than Tom Hanks' hitman, but it is clear from the music, from the lighting and dialogue that we are meant to cheer him on. That is one train I just cannot ride.

Still, in terms of action and pacing, both the cast and crew acquit themselves well. Natalie Portman is effectively the eyes and ears of the audience, and she carries the film admirably, even though her English accent seems a little spotty here and there. Hugo Weaving was quite well-cast as V, especially considering that the mask he perpetually wears is sometimes as difficult to watch as it undoubtedly was for him to act behind. John Hurt, who plays the movie's least fleshed out character, tries to make do with what he has, but he can't elevate Sutler beyond the pasteboard figure that the script makes him out to be.

The irony of the Wachowski brothers efforts is, given how blatant the movie is in its intentions, it's likely that the only people who will even go and see it are the people already inclined to hate Bush, so essentially they'll be preaching to the choir.

This movie certainly has some entertainment value, but it's not nearly as brave as its makers would like to believe.