Questions' Authority

Saw The Departed on Saturday. Loved The Departed on Saturday. Still love it.

Got me thinking about questions. Because, when a movie’s over, you want the viewer to be left with questions. The good questions.

Bad questions suck.

(Wait. Have I blogged about this before? How do regular bloggers like Greg remember?)

After The Departed, I was left with both types. Though even the bad questions weren’t so bad. This is a great film after all.

Good question:

In one bar scene, the camera’s on a crane (or high sticks?) over the bar and tilts down to reveal that Jack Nicholson has just downed a shot and has a beer lined up, ready to roll. Now, this question I have is predicated on my experience in Massachusetts (where the film takes place), in the mid-‘90s -– so things might have changed since then.

But back then, I learned that you can’t order a-shot-and-a-beer and get both at the same time. Believe me, I tried. State law against one person having two drinks in front of them simultaneously. When I ordered, they’d hand me the shot, I’d do it, then they’d slap down the beer.

So on Saturday I leave the theater wondering, did William Monahan and Martin Scorsese put this in there, knowing the law, as an inside joke to cement their knowledge of all things Boston (their knowledge, by the way, is delightfully deep) by adding a little touch to further show Nicholson’s character is a king? Like, Whoa, this dude can even get a shot and a beer!

Or is this an error -– albeit a slight one -– that just shows one small detail got past them. Not that it matters, really, a detail like this, so the mistake doesn’t take away from my enjoyment of the movie.

Either way, good question. The kind of question I got to talk to my wife about over sushi after the movie. This is what movies are supposed to do. Like Alabama says to Clarence in True Romance: When I see a really good movie I really like to go out and get some pie, and talk about it. Only on Saturday it was sushi. No pie. Anyway, you know what I mean: you delve in afterwards, talk about its intentions, think about its impact. Nothing too film-school-intellectual, please, but a good movie leaves you with good questions. If everything’s tied up with a neat bow, shit, I’ll pass.

But I also left with the kind of question that was not so good, because I didn’t know if it was a mistake that would take away my enjoyment.

I’m wondering: what about the envelope Leonardo DiCaprio gives Vera Farmiga? When they release the DVD are we gonna see a deleted scene where she opens it, then calls Mark Wahlberg? Because the otherwise tight storytelling fell apart there a little bit with that.

Again, not a really bad question -– like, say, the type I was left with after watching The Hulk (for example, “Why did I just watch that movie? Can I ever get those 90 minutes of my life back?”) -– so I’m not complaining too much. But a potential chink in the armor.

Why am I going on and on about this? Because we’re about to dive into the recut of Dismal -– and I want to leave the good questions in there and take care of the bad questions.

And sometimes it’s tough to tell the difference.