 | | | | by Philip Cunliffe |
V for Vendetta, directed by James McTeigue, on general release.
| V for Vendetta, produced by the Wachowski brothers of Matrix-fame, is set in a totalitarian Britain of the near future. It follows the efforts of a lone anarchist revolutionary known only as V (Hugo Weaving) as he plots to blow up the symbols of the British state, and systematically assassinates everyone involved in a secret government concentration camp.
| It's fun to watch V slash his way through black-clad state-security goons. And the film succeeds in producing a stylised depiction of London that is at once futuristic and reminiscent of the grim visions of mid-twentieth century urban dystopias. The action is jilted by an interlude of the vapid and ponderous cod-philosophising that is the Wachowskis' trademark, and that weighed down the Matrix movies. At least with V for Vendetta the outcome of the story doesn't allow for any sequels that would be twice as long and much more boring.
| The film's portrayal of Britain in 2020 is clearly meant to bear more than a passing resemblance to Britain in 2006: a country in a state of permanent crisis, which apparently justifies the government enforcing curfews at night, a permanently closed-down Tube system, roaming police vans randomly listening in on people's conversations, prisoners in orange jumpsuits and black hoods, parts of the country blocked off in quarantine against a futuristic plague, and TV news filled with reports of avian flu.
| But the film has been criticised for wrapping this depiction of the politics of fear in explicitly fascist garb, with scenes of military parades, black and red flags and fascist regalia. In a review for the New Yorker, David Denby wrote: 'What is the actuality behind Vendetta? The last time I looked, London seemed more like a prosperous pleasure garden than like the capital of a jackbooted, dehumanised future.' (1)
| Perhaps the film's depiction of an authoritarian Britain as a fascist dictatorship reflects the origins of the idea behind the film. The Wachowskis' screenplay was taken from Alan Moore's comic book of the same name, which he began writing in 1981. Back in the early 1980s, fascist skinheads often victimised ethnic minorities; the police fought pitched battles to quell political opposition and social unrest; and senior figures in military and political circles had drawn up secret contingency plans to extend stringent laws from Northern Ireland to mainland Britain, in order to crush the IRA and labour movements.
| | | London under New Labour is certainly no rose garden of freedom |
| Today, by contrast, the police are deployed to enforce curfews against youth who are partying too hard (2). The people blowing things up are not Shakespeare-quoting anarchists, but nihilistic losers - and as John Goodman's character says in The Big Lebowski, 'Say what you like about the tenets of National Socialism, Dude, at least it's an ethos. Nihilists, they believe in nothing!'
| 'Underneath this mask is an idea', V tells the chief of state security, 'and ideas are bulletproof'. A fine sentiment, but it is never made clear what the idea beneath V's mask is - though there's no particular reason why we should be relying on pop culture (or indeed anarchism) to provide political ideas. The more interesting question raised by the film is this: how do you provide a convincing portrayal of what is distinctive about our times?
| London under New Labour is certainly no rose garden of freedom. But the authoritarian instincts of our political leaders are not as obvious as they are in the film, where John Hurt, complete with a Hitler-parting, is the appointed 'High Chancellor' Adam Sutler, raving at us from gigantic TV screens. In reality, we have Tony Blair, a self-deprecating manager rather than a demagogue.
| It's relatively common to denounce some of New Labour's measures as 'health fascism' - all those crackdowns on smoking, drinking and junk food, and the tedious government campaigns to force us to eat our greens. But even this sort of libertarian opposition is carried out with a nudge and a wink. Instead of rousing you to storm the barricades, the polemical hyperbole involved in calling something 'fascist' today is meant to be ironic, not stirring - or it is intended to shut down debate, by putting something beyond the pale. While the health campaigns may be intrusive and authoritarian, we all know that they ain't fascism.
| The problem for V for Vendetta is that the stylisation involved in the comic-book aesthetic, and the extrapolation into the future, involves exaggerating certain aspects of contemporary society at the expense of the complexity of real life. Then again, for genuine radicalism in cinema, it is unwise to rely on pop culture. V for Vendetta makes a decent stab at depicting today's new authoritarianism, and it's certainly fun to watch its fictional overthrow.
| Philip Cunliffe studies international relations at King's College London. Email him at philip.cunliffe@kcl.ac.uk
(1) Blowup, David Denby, New Yorker, 20 March 2006
(2) Now happy hour ends with martial law, David Bamber, Daily Telegraph, 19 June 2005
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