Elephant vs. 2:37

Last week I was so unwell so I watched six films in bed in one day, and two of them happened to have a few things in common. Well, actually, they had A LOT in common. One was called 2:37, and is an Australian film released in 2006, whilst the other was an American film called Elephant, which was released three years earlier in 2003.

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Elephant was directed by indie demi-God Gus Van Sant, whilst 2:37 was directed by first-time 20 year-old Murali Thalluri. Both were set almost entirely in a high school over one day. Both used detached camera movements via a steady cam to follow its characters, often from behind. Both ended in a shocking tragedy (2:37 a teen suicide, Elephant a massacre). Both were edited the same, holding on a single dramatically inert shot for longer than usual. Both had the same gritty realistic visual style. Both films play around with chronology in exactly the same way. Both used classical music. Both had an in-class discussion about gay rights. Both had the troubled kid playing the piano. Both had bulimic girls throwing up in the bathroom.

It goes on...

But it is the dissimilarities between the two films which are even more intriguing.

Whilst Elephant was very (even offputtingly) detached and lacking in social commentary, 2:37 attempted to give a reason (emphasis, one reason) for each characters' social malfunction. This was achieved via documentary-like interviews where the characters talked directly to the camera. The effect? Directness, and almost no subtlety.

I strongly recommend any film fanatic to watch both films consecutively, preferably 2:37 first, then Elephant. On first glance 2:37 is a decent, if even good, film. Its professionalism considering the small budget and young director is exemplary. On that level I am tremendously impressed. There are some great camera moves, and the acting is very realistic. But when you watch Elephant, certain things become undeniably apparent: 2:37 is derivative, unoriginal, a soap opera, poorly written, exploitative. Juvenile.

Furthermore, upon reflection and consideration of its companion piece, Elephant becomes an even better film than it would have been if standing alone. Its subtlety and lack of directorial voice-box input is poetic, and truthful. its ultimate meaning, if any, is that perhaps there is no one tangible reason why some fall, and others fly. There may not be a solution to teen alienation.

But the director of 2:37 thinks otherwise, and the blame appears to be solely on our parents. This is not necessarily a morally reprehensible attitude to have or statement to make, but under the context by which it is outlaid to us the viewer it is nothing other than blatant manipulation. There is no discussion to be made - the director has already done all the talking for us.

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The one thing 2:37 has over Elephant? The title.