Hasskamp on Representation and Reality

Representation and Reality in Closer and Big Fish:
Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Natalie Portman
By Luke Hasskamp

"Lying is the most fun a girl can have with her clothes on."  - Closer

"The man tells so many stories, that he becomes the stories. They live on after him, and in that way he becomes immortal." - Big Fish

“I love Natalie Portman.” – Luke Hasskamp

At first glance, it would appear that the films Closer and Big Fish have very little in common.  One is about the sexual escapades of two couples in London while the other is about an Alabama man and his estranged son reconciling their divisions.  But upon closer inspection, we can see that these two films explore strikingly similar topics.  The two quotes above may provide a few hints about the parallels the two films share with regards to reality, storytelling and representation.  Both films explore the notion that meaning is rendered through representation, and that human beings strive to be represented.  Human beings can and do attempt to achieve this in a variety of ways, as do the characters in these two films.  They do recognize representation’s ability to render one meaningful, and they are naturally drawn to representation.  In both of these films, the audience meets characters who position themselves on both sides of the image/reality spectrum: those drawn to representation/image/cinema and those drawn to reality/truth.  This paper will examine how the characters in Closer and Big Fish respond to the representations of themselves and of others. 

As Andre Bazin illustrates in "The Ontology of the Photographic Image," since the early years of their existence, human beings have sought to prolong their lives, or at least delay the inevitable victory of death over the body.  Bazin begins this discussion by recounting the practice of mummification used by ancient Egyptians in order to preserve the "bodily appearance ... to snatch it from the flow of time, to stow it away neatly" (166).  Ancient Egyptians "saw survival as depending on the continued existence of the corporeal body" (166). When it became evident that pyramids, sarcophagi and the like failed to prevent the eventual onslaught of time upon even mummified bodies, the Egyptians developed other practices to preserve life by preserving a representation of the person's life.  In lieu of mummified bodies, which would had the tendency to be stolen or destroyed, terra cotta statues of these people were placed in their tombs as adequate substitutes (166).   As long as life was represented, it was believed, it would be extended, and in a sense, the subject could achieve immortality.  Later, Bazin writes, Louis the XIV bypassed the statue or mummification options and opted instead for a portrait by Le Brun.  Eventually, the advent of photography allowed for a nearly perfectly objective reproduction of the object being represented.  Photography filled in the gaps created by painting's (and other artistic reproduction's) subjectivity "for photography does not create eternity, as art does, it embalms time, rescuing it from its proper corruption" (169).   Photography has become important to people wishing to leave a nearly perfect imprint on the world to live on after them.  Those who are important or meaningful are remembered, so those wishing to be rendered meaningful must ensure that their memories persist, even if their physical bodies do not.

To begin this exploration, let us start with, in my opinion, the most complicated character in Closer, Alice, portrayed by Natalie Portman.  Alice appears to be a walking contradiction.  In some respects, she feels disdain for the represented images of the world.  Her comments to Larry at Anna's photo exhibition are quite unambiguous: "The people in the photos are sad and alone, but the pictures make the world seem beautiful so the exhibition's reassuring, which makes it a lie, and everyone loves a big, fat lie."

She seems disgusted by the exhibit, and all those who seek comfort in the falsities that it offers.  To Alice, it seems that representation does not render something meaningful or significant.  It only represents a lie to please and comfort the bourgeoisie.  And yet, even Alice's feelings regarding representation are not that clear-cut, although it would be easy for the viewer to conclude that Alice unequivocally condemns representation, but like most things, this issue is much more complicated. 

In some ways, Alice seems to accept the legitimacy of representation, and to a certain degree, she may even condone it.  Consider the scene where Alice visits Dan during his photo shoot in Anna's apartment.  She asks Anna to take her picture, essentially admitting that she desires to be represented too. Alice may feel threatened by Anna and believe that the only way she can compete for Dan’s heart is to render herself meaningful.  While Anna is photographing her, Alice confronts her about the adulterous conversation Anna and Larry had just moments before, perhaps indicating that truth does emerge only through representation.  Would Alice have been able to confront Anna if she had not first been rendered meaningful through representation?  Alice then begins to cry, and though Anna momentarily stops shooting, Alice demands that she continue doing so.  Anna cannot comfort Alice, but maybe representation can.

Alice's conversation with Larry at the photo exhibition deserves a closer look too.  The exhibition, and therefore representation, must have some legitimacy in Alice's eyes because she thought enough of it to attend.  In fact, she insisted that Dan allow her to accompany him.  Plus, Alice is part of the exhibition, at least her photograph is - a photograph that she demanded Anna take and at which she is looking during her conversation with Larry.  Another telling moment that suggests Alice is not so convinced that representation is completely evil occurs right after her conversation with Larry.  He walks to Anna, and Alice turns away and begins to cry.  She cannot condemn the exhibition or its importance, no matter how much she wants to.  She is a part of it now, and to condemn it would be to call into question her own meaningfulness.

Much of what Alice does during the film seems to indicate her acceptance of the importance of representation as a tool for rendering oneself meaningful.  At the beginning of the film, Alice is nobody.  No matter how provocatively she dresses or what color her hair is, she still does not matter.  She is nearly invisible, a point emphasized in the opening sequence of the film, when she is struck by a car while crossing the street.  Also, think about Alice's pseudonym - actually, Alice Ayres IS the pseudonym, while Jane Jones is the real name - and her changing appearance throughout the film.  Do the viewers, or the characters in the film, for that matter, really know who Alice was?  It's a difficult question to answer.  The use of a pseudonym and her changing appearance may indicate that Alice was constantly searching for an identity.  She was on a mission to render herself meaningful, and while she found a name that helped her, she struggled to find a look that helped for the duration of the film.   

Consider also that Alice returns to stripping once Dan leaves her.  She needs to fill the void in her life, to render herself meaningful again, so she rejoins a profession, which requires the gaze of others.  On the surface, she may want to disavow the importance of representation, but deep down, Alice may recognize that meaning lies in representation and she must either play by the rules or get out.  In fact, her continuous resistance to representation may be what 'expels' her from the system in which she has been located throughout the movie.  Alice tries to reject the system of representation, but, ultimately, that system co-opts her.  She is now able to return to America, having achieved meaningfulness.

Alice is not the only character in Closer relevant to a discussion of representation.  Consider the other three main characters of the film: Dan, Anna and Larry.  For example, Dan is a writer, of obituaries and of 'fiction'.  He represents people with words.  The words he writes for an obituary can represent the deceased person's entire life.  In essence, he sums up an entire person's meaning in a few short paragraphs.  He's a professional literary representer.  (This is probably not a word, but it serves a useful purpose so I'll use it.  My apologies.) The use of obituaries shows that people believe they are another way one can extend or prolong a person's memory and therefore his or her life.  Dan is able to render other's lives meaningful, which may explain why the women in the film are attracted to him.  People may be attracted to those who represent.  It could be argued that Dan renders Alice meaningful.  Dan writes a novel based on his life with Alice.  He represents her, loves her, and lives with her, but once he has completed writing the novel, Dan begins to lose interest in Alice.  It is as if Dan is no longer interested in Alice now that she is no longer being represented.  Dan is attracted to the representation of Alice but not to her reality.  For Dan, representation may not just be meaningful, it may actually be everything. 

This brings us to a discussion of Anna.  Why exactly are these two men so attracted to her?  Dan and Larry are crazy for Anna and willing to do anything to get her?  When Alice asks Dan why he prefers Anna to her, he responds, "Because she doesn't need me."  Dan recognizes both that Alice needs him to be rendered meaningful and that Anna is meaningful of her own volition.  Anna herself is a representer, a photographer who takes pictures of people and renders them meaningful through portraits.

Even Alice admits that her photos "make the world seem beautiful" during her conversation with Larry at Anna's exhibition.   Anna’s attraction to Dan begins while she is photographing him for his book.  It is only after she has represented him that she finds him attractive or meaningful.  The camera takes a picture of those two kissing in Anna's studio, perhaps indicating that the camera was necessary to bring the encounter to fruition.  Similarly, Anna begins her affair with Dan immediately after he visits with her at the exhibition opening - her celebration of representation. 

Anna's relationship with Larry is even more interesting.  Larry does not appear to be interested in representation.  He is attracted to Anna, and yet, he seems to prioritize truth and reality over her ‘world’.  Larry, like Alice, appears to foster mixed feelings about representation.

There is something attractive about representation and its representers.  People are unable to look away, including Larry, but on some level he feels it's a sham.  During his conversation with Alice at the exhibition, he concedes, perhaps sarcastically, perhaps not, that he's "the big, fat liar's (Anna's) boyfriend."  Throughout the film, Larry privileges truth (reality) over representation (lies).  He is a man who cannot put up false pretenses and who is always demanding the truth from those with whom he interacts, chiefly Anna and Alice.  When he returns from his business trip, Larry confesses that he has had an affair, stating that he couldn't bear to lie to her, and then he demands that Anna divulge all of the details of her infidelity when he learns of her affair.  Larry is unable to live without truth.  He calls himself a "caveman," indicating that he is unable to jump the gap to faith in representation. 

Also interesting is the scene when Larry finds Alice working at the strip club.  He wants to see every part of Alice.  He demands that strip in certain ways and position her body in the ways he wants.  Larry is representing and objectifying Alice with his gaze, and yet, he wants to talk with her too.  He wants to find the real, human size of Alice, and he is clearly annoyed with the deceptive games she is playing with him.  Larry is most angry with Alice when he demands to know her real name, and she continues to tell him 'Jane Jones'.  He is incensed because he believes she is being mockingly dishonest when in reality, she is telling the truth.  Neither of these characters is good at or interested in lying.  It's interesting to think that, of the three other main characters in the film, Larry is the one to whom Alice is the most honest.  It’s also interesting to consider that Alice and Larry, the two who are represented in the film, emerge victorious at the end of the film, while their two representers (Dan and Anna) who were NOT represented emerge with seemingly less satisfactory outcomes.  Both Alice's relationship with Dan and Larry's relationship with Anna seem to recognize and represent a synthesis or reconciliation between reality and representation.

Big Fish tells of the life of prolific storyteller Edward Bloom, through the eyes of both Edward himself and his son Will.  Edward has told so many stories about his life that his son Will feels he does not really know who his father is.  Will views the stories as anything from embellished versions of actual events to pure fabrications with no sense of reality.  Will just wants to hear the "real" version of things so he can understand who his father really is.  Big Fish explores the notion of storytelling, and similar to Closer, a structuring opposition between fact/reality and fantasy/representation emerges.  One example of this is clearly the tension between Will (fact) and his father Edward (fantasy).  Will wants to her the true version of stories while his father yearns to ‘spice up’ reality a bit.  The audience also sees this dichotomy when Edward leaves his hometown with Carl the giant and is confronted with two different trails out of town.  These two trails represent the two paths of life: reality and fantasy.  While Carl has no interest in taking the fantastic path, Edward is immediately drawn towards it.  Edward, like the audience, cannot help himself.  Just as the audience is attracted to cinema, Edward is attracted to the better story.  The cinematic, represented life is continuously pulling those of us in reality to it.  Edward comments, "The more difficult something is, the more rewarding it was in the end," and sets off down the path of fantasy.  The adventures are just not as good or as frequent down the path of reality.

After some mini-adventures along the path, he comes upon the seemingly perfect town of Specter.  The lights over the town provide a cinematic feel to the place, and the town's name (Specter) implies that not only are people attracted to spectacles, but that the cinematic/represented way of life is the ideal one.  When Edward reaches town, he is told that he arrived early.  Edward asks how he can be, and Beaman the mayor comments, "the long way is easier, but it's much longer," alluding to the superiority of the represented life.  Beaman goes on to state, "Everything tastes better here," meaning that life is better lived in fantasy or representation. The people of Specter act as if they are living in a Utopian landscape.  Nobody is interested in leaving the fair town.  Director Tim Burton is unmistakably privileging a life of fantastic storytelling (one with cinema) over a life grounded in reality (one without cinema).  Is the cinematic/represented life as good as it gets?  Even Dr. Bennett, an educated medical physician, appears to privilege the path of fantasy near the end of the film.  While Will is staying at the hospital after his father's stroke, Dr. Bennett tells him the "real" story of Will's birth and concludes by saying, "I suppose if I had to choose between the real version and an elaborate version involving a fish and a wedding ring, I'd probably choose the fancy one too."  Regardless of how educated or rational one might be, people will still be attracted to and often elevate the fantastic side of life.  When Edward says, "A dangerous path is made more dangerous by darkness," in essence he could be saying, "A life without cinema or storytelling (darkness) is a life half-lived."  People need cinema.

In Big Fish, Tim Burton may be going so far as to argue that life IS representation.   This is clearly exhibited in the quote used at the beginning of this paper: "The man tells so many stories that he becomes the stories. They live on after him, and in that way he becomes immortal."  In Big Fish, representation and reality are undeniably linked.  Edward Bloom lived the life he wanted to live because he told the stories he wanted to tell.  He represented himself meaningful and elevated himself to immortality by telling stories. 

At the onset of the film, Edward states, "No man can avoid reaching the end of his life," in obvious recognition of the fact that every story has an ending, even the wonderfully fantastic story of Edward Bloom’s life.  He has the privilege of 'seeing' how he goes in the eye of the Alabama Swamp Witch.  With this 'knowledge' Edward is able to chart the course of his life without fear.  When Edward is wandering through the deep, dark forest on the path to Specter, a large enchanted tree seizes him with its limbs and begins to crush him to death.  Edward fears that he is about to die, until he simply remembers that this is not how he goes.  This isn't how Edward's story ends, in Edward's mind at least, and the tree immediately releases him.  The tree recognizes the value of the story and is bound to follow its rules.  Reality cannot interfere with the story or representation of Edward Bloom's life. 

When the audience sees Edward in the hospital bed dying, they know this is not the end, for Edward has reminded them that this is not how he goes - "The ending is much more unusual."  Edward asks his son to tell him the story of how he goes, although Will responds that he does not know that story.  Still, after a little prompting, Will engages in a fantastic tale of a daring hospital break, a high speed car chase, and a touching scene of culmination at the river, where everyone from Edward's life is waiting to see him.  Edward declares that this is "The story of my life."  When Will concludes the story with "And that's how it happens," Edward responds, "Exactly," and passes away.  The path of Edward's life was bound to the representation or story of his life.  Edward died in the story so he also had to die in real life.  Once the story had ended, Edward's life ended, too.  The two were unquestionably connected. 

This connection suggests that the potential exists for reconciliation between these two seemingly divergent paths.  Early on, Edward criticized Will for his poor story-telling skills, a character flaw shared by many people.  "Will would have told the story wrong.  All the facts and none of the flavor ... Most me will tell stories straight through.  It won't be complicated, but it won't be interesting either."  While Will is initially unable to engage in his father's fantasies, his wife Josephine has no problem believing his stories.  This should not be surprising for she is also a representer - a photographer - and she shares his attraction to representation.

Edward seemed to be a man who lived two lives, and Will sets out to resolve the two.  He said his father was gone all the time growing up, and he started to think that "Maybe he's got a second life somewhere," a second life he likes a lot better than this one.  "My father did a lot of things he never said and said a lot of things he never did.  I'm still trying to reconcile the two."  These two lives represent the two paths on which this discussion has focused: fact/reality and fiction/fantasy.  Just like Will is trying to reconcile the two, so was Edward.  He needed to live two lives because he felt an attraction to both of them.  Edward may have felt compelled to remain grounded in reality, but he could not resist the attraction of his fantasy life, that spectacle.  And in the end, we see that his son also achieves this. Representation is meaningful.  Will finally connects with his father, and it is through representation and story-telling that they are able to do so. 

Edward was rendered meaningful by the stories he shared, whether or not they are completely factual.  This point is ambiguous at the end of the film, and this ambiguity suggests a synthesis between these two paths was achieved.  Edward's stories were not completely factual, but they weren't fabrications either.  The Siamese twins in the film are analogous to the synthesis between reality and fantasy and reality. When Edward comments about the twins, "They both have completely different characters, just the same pair of legs," he could also be taking about reality and fantasy.  They may seem different, but many times, they are more similar than one might think.  They flow together, just like the river highlighted throughout the film and where Edward's life 'ends'.  Once these two paths flowed together, Edward's life finally became completely meaningful – he connected with his son and passed along the tradition of storytelling - and that's how he goes. 

Although both Closer and Big Fish may be strikingly different films with seemingly different endings, both seem to reach a similar conclusion regarding representation.  Both films would agree that representation does have the power to render people meaningful.  Characters in both of these films worked to have themselves represented, either in image, in written word, in gaze or in story.  Both films also had characters who initially resisted the importance of representation: Alice in Closer and Will in Big Fish.  These two seemed annoyed that so many others bought into this idea, but ultimately, they both came to recognize the validity of representation.  In the end, Alice, or rather Jane is rendered meaningful and she can return to the United States.  Contrast the opening sequence of the film with the closing sequence.  In both, Alice/Jane is walking through a crowd of people.  In the first sequence, only Dan, the one with the potential to represent, notices her.  But in the second sequence, now that she has been rendered meaningful, everyone in the crowd notices her.  She cuts through the crowd with an elegance and confidence not demonstrated by her earlier in the film.  “Plain Jane” has been elevated – she is now Natalie Portman! – and it’s all thanks to representation.

Remember the two who were represented in the film, Alice and Larry, are the ones who get what they want in the end, while those who were not represented (Anna and Dan) do not have such luck.  Representation does render one meaningful.  Similarly, Will Bloom buys into the validity of storytelling.  He finally connects with his estranged father, and he becomes the storyteller.  Will now believes in representation so much that he will serve as storyteller now that his father has passed.  Edward achieves immortality through spoken word, as well as a son he will continue his tradition.  The audience even catches a glimpse of Will’s son telling stories at the conclusion of the film, so it appears that the tradition will continue.  Bazin would most likely be pleased - representation and reality may someday become inseparable, and that day may have already arrived.

Works Cited:

Bazin, Andre, “The Ontology of the Photographic Image,” Film Theory and Criticism, Edited by Leo Braudy and Marshall Cohen, Oxford University Press, 2004, p. 166.

Comments

[Praavita]

The issue of representation is dealt with in a very shadowy sort of way in big fish. its really a story about a father and a son and their relationship. its about how the son must find the truth in the fiction. will also eventually connects with his father because he sees that they have very little time together and he is forced to resolve his issues with his father.
the part on big fish is well written and the issue of representation is dealt with clarity.

[Mia Ruth]

In his article, “Representation and Reality in Closer and Big Fish: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Natalie Portman,” Luke Hasskamp argues that the characters of the films and, then, people in general, are rendered meaningful through representation. Citing Bazin’s “The Ontology of the Photographic Image,” Hasskamp references the idea that human beings strive to be represented. It is through representation that people are considered important and are, therefore, remembered.
Hasskamp argues that Alice, Natalie Portman’s character, and Larry, Clive Owen’s character, in Closer both emerge victorious at the end of the film, because they were represented in various ways. Conversely, Dan (Jude Law), and Anna (Julia Roberts) end up more defeated, perhaps because they were not represented. I find a flaw here in Hasskamp’s argument. I will agree that Alice is represented throughout the film, in the photograph at Anna’s exhibit, as a stripper, in Dan’s book, and through her false identity and pseudonym. However, I disagree with Hasskamp in his conclusion that Larry is represented and Dan is not. In the first scene in which Dan appears he is being photographed by Anna. This, to me, renders him represented from the beginning. Larry, though, as Hasskamp writes elsewhere in essay, privileges reality (truth) over representation (lies) throughout the entire film. He is not represented, nor does he understand or value the practice of representation. Dan, however, is represented not only through Anna’s photograph, but through the book he writes about his encounters with Alice as well.
While Hasskamp is correct in his saying that Alice and Larry do emerge more victorious from the film than do Anna and Dan, I think that he falsely constructed his theory that they did so because they were represented. Perhaps the issue should be viewed from another angle: both Anna and Dan represented others. Did their creation of representations (lies) lead to their respective demises?

[John Hasskamp]

Wonderful...this kid deserves an A and an Apple!