Last updated on March 6, 2014
Redbelt is a really strange film. Advertised as some sort of karate/martial arts spectacular (seriously, just go look at the trailers and advertising campaign for proof, even the poster contains spoilers), all of that smoke and mirrors obscures a movie with rather complex themes and ideas. In other words, if you like mixed martial arts, then please avoid this little experience. It definitely does not like that spectacle at all.
I wouldn’t expect any less from David Mamet, writer of Glengarry Glen Ross, House of Games, and seemingly dozens of other films (and plays, mind) I enjoy immensely. If anything, I instantly detected the “Mamet speak” on display, a strange combination of street smarts, dialectic posturing, and double meanings. In the world of Mamet, nothing ever deserves to be taken at face value. Someone’s conning someone out of something, and if you aren’t looking out for yourself, things won’t end up well. You need to, in a phrase, play the game to survive. Just for example’s sake, just take a cursory look at some of the dialogue from Glengarry Glen Ross:
Moss No. What do you mean? Have I talked to him about this [Pause]
Aaronow Yes. I mean are you actually talking about this, or are we just…
Moss No, we’re just…
Aaronow We’re just “talking” about it.
Moss We’re just speaking about it. [Pause] As an idea.
Aaronow As an idea.
Moss Yes.
Aaronow We’re not actually talking about it.
Moss No.
Aaronow Talking about it as a…
Moss No.
Aaronow As a robbery.
Moss As a “robbery?” No.
The language sounds strange, arresting, important. In other words, while in common conversation we don’t often pay attention to the words we speak or what we’re saying, in a play/movie we do. We need to pay attention, but if you merely pay attention on the surface, then you miss what’s really happening. In Mamet’s world, to miss the subtle nuances of speech, to learn the “language” of language, will make or break you. And since this world’s a dog-eat-dog world, good luck with that!
It’s called a confidence game. Why, because you give me your confidence? No: because I give you mine.
That was the central message of Mamet’s film oeuvre, without question. But I detect a distinct shift when it comes to Redbelt in his outlook. Sure, the traditional Mamet actors (Joe Mantegna, Ricky Jay, etc) show up, and the underlying cynicism of Mamet narratives immediately become apparent after a while delving into the film’s world, but the naive protagonist ends up setting the tone for the whole film in a positive way.
Sure, we’re watching the con game of a Brazilian Jiu-jutsu instructor, but it’s obvious that we’re not watching the con game of a Jiu-jutsu instructor. We’re really watching a man’s, Mike Terry’s, honor being tested, and his principles put up to scrutiny. Can they survive in a world of shady dealings? Is there any room for it? Does one’s financial obligations usurp one’s moral sense? Should you use an art designed for self-defense and self-knowledge in a competitive sense, or do you violate its edicts just from the mere thought of it? What will you give up to maintain your own ideas, your thoughts, you life? I don’t mean that in an “identity” sense, but I mean: what do your beliefs mean when push comes to shove?
In that sense, Mamet makes a fundamentally different film than his usual double-speaking madness. Rather than a false grounding point, our hero/protagonist establishes a point he will not break and he will not submit. Temptation will not do him in, although it tempts him to the brink. From the purity of the dojo to interaction with the outside world to making peace in that world, the dramatic arc follows a certain pace and flow within a character study. Like life, the narrative lines aren’t clear until they’re absolutely, brilliantly clear. All the threads suddenly come together, and then you make a choice that leads to new threads. What those threads will look like, whether brittle or strong, will depend on you.
So, the meaning of the film’s title really comes from that central meaning. To say any more would obviously spoil it. I engender you to really watch the film, see what it says without saying much of anything. Like the best films, it shows rather than tells when it counts.
Still, I think the prospect of actually watching Redbelt will certainly turn off a great many of the people who watch it. Mamet directs film like a play, and the cinematography will not excite you with its stilted staging. I’m not going to justify seeing a few different settings from pedestrian camera angles. They don’t so much set the stage as allow the words some breathing room, and that sounds utterly strange in a visual medium. The dialogue sounds artificial, as it does in all Mamet’s stuff, but to a much lesser degree.
Lastly, and the big problem with both promotion and advertising, this isn’t a martial arts film genre flick. The trailer misleads you to an enormous degree. Fighting does take place, but only in key moments of the film and never without an actual purpose behind them. Realistic movements mean less “exciting action” and more “how would you actually fight another guy with the same training in a situation of actual danger?” From one perspective, that’s a refreshing change of pace from traditional tropes. From another, the fights are boring. From yet another, they represent ideas in the film.
So, in sum, Redbelt goes for your thinking brain rather than your emotional brain. Whether or not you chalk this as a negative or a positive I leave up to you. This blog does a whole lot of that, though. Not much of a stretch for an audience into those sorts of discussions, I suspect!
If I had to point out one baffling decision in the production of this film, though, why Tim Allen? WHY TIM ALLEN?!
