Beat the Mythologist

I've been wondering whether to follow up last week's post on Elaine Constantine's film 9 Kisses, because I guessed that readers who attempted to interpret the film for themselves might be wondering how their results compared with mine. In the last post, I tried to be suggestive only, giving readers the chance to draw their own conclusions. Then an accidental (or maybe synchronistic) event suggested to me that I wasn't finished with the subject and that I wouldn't be beating a dead horse with a follow-up.

Maybe Jung could come up with a better piece of synchronicity, but I'm not sure I could. In my non-blogging life, I've been dithering about whether to purchase a metal knob that would screw in to make one of my dishes suitable for oven use. After having the picture of this metal object in my mind for several days, the similarity between it and an image in 9 Kisses suddenly struck me. One of the eye-catching oddities in the first scene, starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Reese Witherspoon, is Ms. Witherspoon's short, screw-shaped metallic skirt, a somewhat loaded symbol, it seemed to me. Having a similarly shaped object surface in my life this week after I wrote the last post has reinforced the idea that the material calls for more amplification.

The caution I've supplied before about reading symbols too literally or mechanically applies here, as always. If you attempted to interpret scenes and found yourself thinking, X always equals this, or Y always equals that, you probably ran into dead ends or things that didn't really work. One of the difficulties of interpreting symbols is the fact that they almost always have many possible meanings. In one context, a color implies one thing; in another, it means the opposite. An identical pair of gloves may mean entirely different things in different situations. Characteristics such as gender and physical appearance may suggest various things--again, meaning is very dependent on the particular dynamics of the exchange.

In Ms. Witherspoon's scene, for example, both characters wear costumes, though only one of them is actually disguised. The scene depicts a tryst in which neither wishes to be discovered, though Mr. Cumberbatch appears to be especially concerned. While the meeting is obviously consensual, Mr. Cumberbatch has taken pains to hide his identity (the mask and gloves), and he keeps his partner waiting, which suggests that he has more power. In addition, he appears to have left a cocktail party or a similar type of gathering, while his partner is kept waiting outside. This, along with Ms. Witherspoon's suggestive attire, implies to me not romance but instead prostitution or something equally illicit; perhaps both parties are men.

In the scene with Laura Dern and Steve Carell, there is extreme hesitation about initiating the encounter, which suggests some taboo the characters are slow to overcome. While both are conventionally dressed, their clothes are nonetheless costumes; Ms. Dern's backless dress suggests that she is outwardly the less inhibited of the two, and that Mr. Carell, the very picture of buttoned-up ordinary middle age, is wearing a more successful disguise. Again, the extreme mortification on being discovered is suggestive; perhaps one of the characters is married. The genders need not be literal, either--this is not an arbitrary suggestion but rather one based on the context.

To me, Jenny Slate's and Rosario Dawson's scene seems not to depict a sexual relationship at all. Their interaction suggests two women of the same status (notice how they're sitting) who spend a lot of "face time" together--friends, perhaps. Clues in the scene imply, however, a predatory relationship, a serious betrayal of some kind. Ms. Dawson has "screwed" Ms. Slate, figuratively speaking. (I know, I know: "Geez, Wordplay, can't you keep it classy?" I would, if only I could.) I read Chadwick Boseman's scene with Kristen Stewart in a similar way. Being knocked off his feet implies an unwelcome shock for Mr. Boseman, one that initially distresses him but is ultimately, perhaps, amusing. Reading clues in the attire, I interpreted this scene as an attack of one man by another; Ms. Stewart's clothing (and her edgy aggression) seemed rather pointedly masculine here. (I'm not suggesting women can't be aggressive; I'm only looking at the specifics of this scene.)

Outwardly, Jason Schwartzman and Patricia Arquette seem to be strangers meeting by chance, although the behavior of each is remarkably odd. Why does Mr. Schwartzman, who is obviously preoccupied, take the time to brush off and kiss the cap of a complete stranger? Why does Ms. Arquette (who also seems preoccupied) appear at first taken aback--even frightened--and why does she return his gesture by first biting him and then laughing? The characters are moving in opposite directions (initially, they seem not even to see one another); it is the handing back of the cap (part of Ms. Arquette's "disguise") that unites them. The backward glances, in Mr. Schwartzman's case, look like a puzzled attempt to figure out what's happened to him even as the ambush recedes in time. Perhaps these people are "strangers" only in the sense of their very unequal understanding of what's taken place between them. Though I don't read this scene romantically (at all), Mr. Schwartzman's gentleness and Ms. Arquette's peculiar aggressiveness, along with the fact that she somehow seems to tower over him, suggest that their genders could be reversed.

In my last post, I pointed out that the characters in the bar scene are very unlike one another, two adversaries involved in a great contest. I based this on their postures, their actions, and the way they're dressed; it's easy to see how different they are. I suggested that perhaps one of them wasn't even a man, and while that may have taken you by surprise, it was just my reading of the extreme difference in the way they're portrayed: they're such opposites in every other way that, in this context, I guessed that different races might symbolize opposite genders. And if you watch their contest closely, you'll see the moment when Mr. Spall reveals both dismay and surprise at his opponent's strength. He only overcomes Mr. Oyelowo by a nasty and unexpected trick that changes the dynamic completely.

I see the "sparring" between partners in the next scene as a metaphor for a romantic relationship between two people who have long been at odds. After Ms. Woodley lands a direct hit on Mr. O'Connell and then tries to made amends, he at first appears shocked--boy, he didn't see that coming. He then responds by ridiculing her, and the two go back to fighting. One senses, though, that a corner has been turned in the relationship, and that Ms. Woodley now sees her partner differently (despite his efforts to "protect his face"). To me, Ms. Woodley's boyish figure, along with the fact that the partners relate to one another by boxing, suggests that both partners are male; Ms. Woodley, however, is the more vulnerable of the two.

The scene in the dance club, to my mind, suggests a political rather than a romantic situation. If I were to ask you which of the two is a Democrat and which a Republican, I think you could hazard a guess, based on their dance styles alone. (I know it's a stereotype, but who looks more uptight?) The final scene, with the runaway groom, seems to me suggestive of a marriage in which there has been some great trouble and an attempt at reconciliation. I read this scene pretty straightforwardly as the story of a marriage in which something momentous (and tragic) has occurred. In this case, the mixed-race marriage might refer to some division--a difference of opinion or a betrayal--that has separated the couple. It may be the contrast between this scene and the one before it--in which the dancing partners seem united mainly by cynicism--but this one, so starkly personal, is one that I initially found to be most disturbing.

I take it that this exercise illustrates why film interpretation (and symbolic interpretation of all kinds) is so challenging. I'm not suggesting that there's always only one way to see things, but I do believe that some interpretations are better than others. That's why it's so hard to use a standard dictionary of symbols to interpret dreams, fairy tales, myths, or anything else. For one thing, a good dictionary only reveals how multifaceted any one symbol can be. Everything depends on context; you look at all the pieces and keep moving them around until something clicks. Word association, hunches, knowledge of human nature--all is fair in love and war (or so they say). I'll limit myself to saying only that all of these are fair in Jungian interpretation.

If you'd like to know more about this kind of approach, take a look at any of Marie-Louise von Franz's works on fairy tales. She uses some Jungian language that might hamper anyone unfamiliar with Jung's theories, but reading just a little of her work will give you the gist of it. She was a very subtle, penetrating, and perceptive interpreter of the meanings latent in traditional stories; I can't think of anyone who does it better. More recent works in the depth psychological tradition suitable for a general audience include Allan B. Chinen's Once Upon a Midlife and Joan Gould's Spinning Straw Into Gold.