A Scene from “The Terminator” – Sarah Connor Watches Reese’s Interrogation Tape, from Skiffleboom.com
Film as Art – Bunker Hill Community College
Week 04 – Character and Dialogue, Assignment 4
February 25, 2010
Sarah Connor watches Kyle Reese’s interrogation tape.
Examine a scene where dialog is used and answer the questions:
1) How is character revealed through the actions they take?
On a television monitor, a tape plays: Kyle Reese sits handcuffed to a chair while Dr. Silberman questions him. The camera pans left to reveal Sarah Connor watching the tape, along with Dr. Silberman, Lieutenant Traxler, and Detective Vukovich.
Silberman sits front and center, amused by Reese’s outlandish tale. He laughs at the tape with Vukovich. Both men seem oblivious to the anxiety-wracked Sarah, who nervously chews her fingernails. Traxler gives them both a look of disgust—Silberman and Vukovich are insensitive to Sarah’s mental state.
We cut back to Reese on the monitor, explaining his circumstances. The handcuffs and questioning agitate Reese. He seethes with frustration—he is not convincing anyone with his bizarre story… except maybe Sarah. We cut to close-up of Traxler, tensely chewing gum. We cut to close-up of Sarah. She looks scared.
As Reese explains, Silberman pauses the tape. He tells everyone in the room how brilliant Reese’s elaborate story is. He clearly does not believe Reese. This inappropriate action demonstrates the Silberman’s egotism. He is too thrilled with career prospects to consider the murders, and their effect on Sarah. He resumes the tape.
Reese reaches his limit Silberman’s questioning. He realizes Silberman is not in any position to help him. Reese silences him and pleads directly to the camera. He warns about the Terminator to anyone who will listen. Officers attempt to subdue Reese. His fervor suggests he truly believes his mission is to protect Sarah. The fear in Sarah’s eyes suggests she may believe him.
The doctor stops the tape and apologizes. He realizes that he should not have exposed Sarah to Reese’s fear-inducing rant. The doctor shows a fleeting moment of responsibility. He is not a very good doctor if he is oblivious to Sarah’s nerves. Sarah asks Dr. Silberman if Reese is crazy. The doctor assures her Reese is insane. Traxler and Vukovich show Sarah some body armor. They explain the Terminator is likely a man wearing such protection. Traxler gives Sarah the armor so she can feel the weight. He is assuring. Vukovich explains how PCP may have been used to inhibit pain, but before he can tell an anecdote, Traxler gives him the armor to put away. Vukovich has clearly had a lot of experience, but Traxler is focused on nurturing Sarah back from her anxiety.
Traxler warmly suggests Sarah lie down and get some rest. He covers her with his jacket. He is protective and paternal. He assures Sarah of her safety, and she falls asleep, completely exhausted from the ordeal.
2) Are large chunks of information spilled out all at once or is it parceled out?
The information is parceled out. The time travel exposition is well handled. It feels natural—Reese responds to questioning because it is his best option to protect Sarah, given his situation. Scene is written to explain back story while revealing character. Protecting Sarah is Reese’s only concern. He tries to be convince Silberman, but his story is just too surreal for the doctor.
By framing the Reese/Silberman conversation as a pre-recorded tape on a monitor, we are able to focus on the reactions of the observing characters. We get the exposition, but we also see Sarah’s emotion state.
Traxler and Vukovich split assurance duties. The perceptive Traxler is clearly the better man for the job, as Vukovich seems insensitive. They divide up the rationalizations between them, helping calm Sarah. The Dr. Silberman’s dismissal of Reese’s story also helps Sarah relax.
3) How does the writer parcel the information? –Are the speakers saying exactly what is on their minds or are they using subtext getting at what they want to say by being indirect?
At first, Kyle Reese answers the line of questioning in an effort to win allies. When he realizes that his efforts are going nowhere, Reese screams exactly what is on his mind—Sarah is going to die unless the Terminator is stopped.
Dr. Silberman explains the intricacies of Reese’s “delusion,” but is more occupied by the possibilities of his career advancement. He sees great personal opportunity, and at one point, he refers to it as a career case.
Vukovich doesn’t say much, but it is clear he is a man of experience. His attempts at anecdotes allude to this. His insensitivity to Sarah’s emotional state is characteristic of a someone used to dealing with death and murder.
Traxler’s measured, collected manner of assuring Sarah reveals sensitivity. He is a thoughtful, empathic man who has her best interests at heart. He understands how traumatic the experience must be, and brings her a few steps closer to tranquility.
Sarah Connor is a nervous wreck. Her face and body language suggest she may believe Reese. She asks questions looking for support. The doctor and police officers assure her of her safety. She is too exhausted to process any more information. She accepts Traxler’s comforting words and falls asleep.
Five Minutes of Heaven
By Michael McVey
Originally Published in the Irish Emigrant, August 31, 2009
“Trouble with me is I’ve got all the wrong feelings.” – Joe Griffin
There is a moment in Five Minutes of Heaven when the main character, Joe, is presented with a choice: He can open a door and confront his brother’s murderer – a man who waits willingly for him, three decades after committing the act. Or, Joe can exit out another door, avoiding the possibility becoming a murderer himself, but continuing to live with unbearable anger and guilt imparted to him those 30 years ago. And while the plot of the new film Five Minutes of Heaven may be driven by choices like this, the film itself is really about consequences.
The story begins in 1975 Northern Ireland. The film quickly establishes a sense of time and place by using powerful, and violent archival footage. It transitions into a fictional narrative based on a true account – the killing of Catholic teenager Jim Griffin by 16-year-old Protestant Alistair Little. The murder is made all the more shocking, as it is witnessed by Jim’s younger brother, Joe Griffin.
We cut to present day Ireland, where Griffin and Little are grown men, both en route to a television shoot. Little (Liam Neeson) spent 12 years in prison for his crime and, since his release, has been a tireless proponent of a reconciliation program, designed to help those who’ve committed violent crimes take responsibility for their past. Griffin (James Nesbitt) has since married and raised a family, but is deeply scarred by the murder. We sense his bloodlust brimming below the surface. As the TV crew plans to record the meeting, we get more than a “slight” sense that this looming confrontation may not go well.
Guy Hibbert’s script is an interesting construct – the film’s first act deals with real-life events and characters, and then proposes a fictional “what-if” scenario for the confrontation. The real life Griffin and Little have never actually met, though they gave the filmmakers their consent for this fictional narrative. Bringing an outsider’s perspective to the material, German director Oliver Hirschbiegel took particular pains not to judge the politics of the characters, while still acknowledging the complexity of the conflict. We are presented with several questions…Why do we dehumanize our enemies? How does violence affect families? Is primal instinct stronger than principle?
The filmmakers cast actors James Nesbitt and Liam Neeson against their actual backgrounds – Nesbitt was raised in the Coleraine area of Northern Ireland, and Neeson in Ballymena, County Antrim. Both actors create sincere portraits of men dealing with the consequences of violent acts. Nesbitt injects several humorous touches into his moving portrayal of the anxiety-plagued Griffin. Using voice-over, the film’s excellent sound editing weaves in and out of Nesbitt’s internal dialogue, adding extra dimensions to his performance. Neeson’s gravitas are put to good use, particularly during an interview scene (shot in one long take) that reveals deep seated guilt and uncertainty. Both lead actors create believable characterizations, steering the film away from the pitfalls of heavy-handed symbolism.
Five Minutes of Heaven is disciplined in revealing information to the viewer, and with naturalistic lighting and handheld photography, it succeeds in maintaining a realistic tension throughout. Several touches of humor add levity when needed, including a few well placed barbs at the television industry’s “sensitivity” to its subject matter. While Griffin and Little seem destined to confront each other, the outcome’s uncertainty is played for maximum effect.
The film is straightforward and dialogue heavy, but that is not a criticism. The lead performances by Nesbitt and Neeson, the intensity of the scenario, and the insight of the screenplay make for a compelling drama. Without offering any earth-shattering revelations or solutions, Five Minutes of Heaven makes convincing arguments for reconciliation, using the simplest and purest of reasons.