Couldn't care less.
I wanted to say a few words about a man by the (code)name of V.
Note this is not about the movie, nor about the quality of the adaptation, the polemic with the creator of the original character, Alan Moore, or the frenzy surrounding Natalie Portman's rap on SNL.
It is about V.
**Warning: the following contains spoilers**
1) V is an anti-hero. He dies at the end of the movie. And we can't but fall in love with him. Never thought I would fall for a man in a joker mask with a wig styled in a bob, with bangs.
2) He is verbose, gives an impressive first speech using only words in "v", is able to rationalize his radical ideas without sounding like the father of all propaganda or, worse, like a demagogue. He demonstrates how Birtish sense of humor and theatrical tradition are jewels to cherish, especially when your corset is loaded with daggers, you're wearing a C4 strap-on (sans explosive attributes) and you're only faking invulnerability.
He is verbose and while he makes you wish for less words he makes you understand how we would miss the sound of those same words. Artists lie to tell the truth, he says, ideas never die, ask "what are you" before asking "who are you". And "what made you" might I add.
But his real stroke of genius is the "inch" speech. How we should never give that "inch" (our edge, our core of truthfulness, of insubordination, what makes us different) up. How, "even if I don't know you and I will never cry with you or eat with you or hold you or speak with you (or something like this, I'm quoting by memory) I know you and I love you. I love you very much". Because I AM you.
3) In the mansion he inhabits, a sort of underground antiques shop/batcave he calls "Shadow gallery", he keeps a Wurlitzer juke-box, for God's sake, a WURLITZER. And he plays "Cry me a river" by Julie London and Cat Power's rendition of "I found a reason".
4) He tortures the woman he loves. He tortures her, shaves her head, starves her, confines her to a cell, a make-believe detention. Because he wants to set her free. And in the end, unsurprisingly, the roles are inverted.
5) He made me feel alive. He made me remember what it is like to feel rage and outrage. I felt a sudden uncontrollable surge of pure, virgin ultraviolence. He made me remember what it felt like to march in protest rallies in my hometown and to occupy my high school for days. To keep it in lockdown until the police would come and kick us out. To disobey. To feel disgusted by conformism, even my own. He made me want to take whatever it is that disappoints me and turn it into action rather than complaint. In reaction. I don't mean violence, at least not that depicted in the movie (whether some acts of terrorism are legitimate - core argument in the Isreali-Palestinian conflict, to name one - in NOT what this post is about). I mean a reaction, a sign of life. A truth or dare. Or both, why do they have to be mutually exclusive? Why do we have to smile all the time? His forzen smile reminded me of the impossibility of a perpetual smile.
6) He has the best line in the whole movie. Which is not - Lord forbid - the "people shouldn't be afraid of their governments blah blah blah". It's the following:
Scene, V confronts one of his former nemesis, a woman partially responsibile for the atrocities he had to suffer, and thousands with him, in the name of a lie, of a quest for power. A female Mengele. He poisons her, then gives her a rose.
Nemesis, seconds before death takes her: "Is it meaningless to apologize?"
V: "NEVER"
Nemesis: "Then I'm sorry. I'm so sorry"
So there, in the name of V, why not?, a moment of veritas, from me.
"Fuck you". You know who you are.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry". You know who you are.
"I love you". You know who you are.
"I deserve an apology". You know who you are.
V would tell me I shouldn't be scared to name names. Well I still am. But it's not the 5th of november. Not yet.
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