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Although Dick loves Bettina, he cannot overcome his old American life; just as Kelly, loving Chuck, is unable to overcome his inability to let go of his old life.
The message of the film suggests that we must remain true to ourselves. For Chuck, keeping the FedEx package and delivering it to Bettina highlights his subconscious understanding of who he is as a person. Chuck is committed to his job and remains committed throughout his ordeal. As he delivers the package to Bettina, he is cemented as the postman. Just as Chuck remains true to his conviction as a FedEx worker, Bettina remains true to herself as a sculptor. It is likely she may have been able to return to Dick, but would have had to sacrifice that which is important to her.
In the end, what the film strongly suggests is that even though we may be thrown away, we should not sacrifice our ideals.
The first time the viewer learns of Chuck’s aching tooth is when he is in the Red Square. There, he calls Kelly, explaining that he has no choice but to address his tooth as it is causing him a lot of pain. Kelly doesn’t answer, although the time difference means it would be around six in the morning in Tennessee. As they are synchronized, Chuck knows Kelly must be home, which is why he calls here there and not at work, yet she does not pick up. When Chuck falls asleep on the couch, Kelly appears tense, as if something is on her mind. She is unable to fall asleep, and carries a look of concern on her face as she draws nearer to Chuck. When Chuck gives Kelly what is likely a wedding ring, Kelly is once again unmoved. When Chuck finally comes home, he is met by Kelly’s new husband, the dentist who worked on his teeth five years prior. What this suggests is that Chuck’s aching tooth is symbolic of Kelly. It aches because Kelly does not want to be with him, as he has spent the past five years working on his career, subsequently delaying the development of their relationship (marriage). Although Kelly may love Chuck, she decides she can no longer wait for him.
It is here that we see the contrast between Chuck and Kelly, and Dick and Bettina. Chuck, just like Bettina, is cast away symbolically on the island, while Bettina is cast away in Texas as her husband moves to Russia. Just like Bettina, Chuck holds the hope that Kelly is waiting for him, but finds out that she has remarried, just as Bettina’s package (attempt at reconciliation) to Dick is returned. Bettina, living near a vast emptiness must come to terms with Dick not returning, which she does (symbolized through the sign no longer having Dick’s name in the end of the film). Similarly, Chuck, living in a vast emptiness of his own (the island) must overcome Kelly, which he does by removing his tooth.
Thank you for your insights. I concede that my opening paragraph could have been worded better to align more with the body of the text.
<blockquote>Oh dear. You need to look up the history of the 1950s, specifically the "Red Scare", loyalty oaths, and McCarthyism. It involved people going to jail or losing their livelihoods for belonging to the communist party or having belonged to the communist party in the past, or for making left-learning statements or belonging to left-leaning causes. Now much of what pops up on google will be about Hollywood officials or government employees, but ordinary people lost regular jobs for refusing to sign loyalty oaths or for expressing leftist beliefs.</blockquote>
Although the West certainly had its own form of propaganda and marketing, Red Scares, McCarthyism, and Truman's loyalty oaths were responses to alleged Soviet subversion and subterfuge. They were temporary events, similar to anti-Catholic propaganda during the Protestant reformation or anti-religious Voltairism during the Enlightenment.
During the Great Depression, some disenfranchised and affected individuals immigrated or attempted to immigrate to the Soviet Union in hopes of a brighter alternative to their impoverished circumstances. The Red Scares, just like McCarthyism, were political movements (admittedly affecting a portion of regular individuals) aimed at addressing communist espionage and increasing influence.
<blockquote>I will allow you a little wiggle room in that the whole mess wasn't done for financial gain and was not strictly a capitalist movement, it was political. But it happened in a capitalist country, and capitalism didn't stop it.</blockquote>
Under Capitalism, selling Coca-Cola globally was done primarily for profit, not influence. The Soviet Union, by contrast, did not create Baikal (Soviet Cola alternative) for money, but for ideology (Baikal and its association with purity).
Good points, and thank you again for the discussion.
What I had always found interesting was how communism (outwardly secular) prided itself on spiritual values (i.e., shunning body-building as a vehicle for vanity in the USSR; banning sunglasses as a token of Western values during the Cultural Revolution), whereas the Protestant-founded base of capitalism elevated material prosperity. "In God We Trust" only became a motto around 1956 to differentiate itself from its nonreligious enemy.
One can observe that both ideologies were in one form or another conformist. While the communist conformed to party lines and strict tradition eschewing aesthetic worship, the capitalist took on the opposite extreme, idolizing beauty and their own self-actualization (i.e., Marilyn Monroe, James Dean). Oddly enough, Maslow coined the concept circa 1943, not too long before America began its ascension toward the post-war civilizational apex. It is the "self" and the individual being fulfilled.
That said, I do not believe the fear of conformity during this period was bad. In both instances, what we really saw were people committed to their respective country and ideology. If France released the Sud Aviation Caravelle in 1955, the USSR came out with the Ilyushin-18 in 1957. If in the 60s the USA released the Douglas DC-9, then in the same decade the Soviet Union met them with the Tupoloev Tu-104. If the USA had the Peach Bottom Power Plant, the USSR had the BN-350 reactor; one had ovens, the other had ovens; one had trains, the other had trains, etc. It was adherence with meaning and purpose, where the push toward progress showcased human triumph.
When those in communist nations wanted to seek refuge in the west, the appeal was freedom and egoism, which contrasted heavily against communist humanism. How could one not help but feel besotted with capitalist imagery and narcissism. Capitalism's success was a function of the natural tendency to favor the self at the expense of the collective, whereas post-Stalin humanism required work and effort toward some collective good at the expense of self.
Thank you for the insight; I agree with you entirely.
I've always found the title of <i>Badlands</i> interesting, perhaps because of its subtle "figuration." In one scene, as outlined by Gabriella Blasi in <i>The Orchard in the Land of Garbage</i> (2014), we see Holly's father painting an advertisement, depicting the commodification or domestication of "nature and happiness" set against the backdrop of a vast emptiness. Just as you mentioned, there is a lingering note of spiritual vacuity that pervades the film. The billboard advertisement juxtaposes with an earlier scene, where Kit kicks one of the animals he had just fed. We see the billboard as the figuration of the capitalist dream, with the surrounding desolation as the capitalist reality, with all of its signification—spiritual and moral emptiness
What Malick appears to suggest, is that behind the facade of the 1950s American Dream, there lies a certain "brutality" or emptiness, and this interplay is further enhanced through the film's title and use of nature. Kit and Holly's attempt to escape the materialistic claustrophobia which is their life is symbolized during their walk, where they encounter store-after-store, finally landing on a rather idyllic depiction of nature, with two men under a tree and near a river. Here, we are presented, just as in the scene with the billboard, an idealized, arable version of nature, instead of the garbage-infested badlands, depicted as America during its materialistic jubilation.
One of the film's flaws is its attempt at having multiple themes that do not overlap. While I can agree that the advanced mecha in the end seem to display true humanity through their desire to learn about "spirit," I have argued in the past that Teddy and, perhaps less distinctly, Joe, are agents of free-will, granting them a human-like status.
Joe is designed to be a sex robot, yet he asks David to join him when he is abandoned. Instead of fleeing like other mecha, he stays with David, and is symbolically depicted as showing empathy for David as he falls toward the ocean. (reflected as a tear on Joe's face). We can certainly argue that these are just mere coincidences, but given that this is as much a Kubrick film as it is a Spielberg film, I contend these details are important.
Teddy is given more depth here, and is presented as sentient in all of the ways that David is not. He rejects his status as robot ("I am not a toy") and is shown helping David and guiding him toward making the correct decision (not eating the food, worrying about him cutting Monica's hair). When David is left underwater in the pool, we see Teddy on the edge, hinting that it was Teddy who told the parents that David was still in the pool. When Teddy falls after they're both captured, he says, "ouch," reifying his sentience. During the carnival, he showcases intelligence by tricking the girl into believing David is real, allowing them to escape. Teddy follows David throughout his journey, even though he is not imprinted to do so. He is imprinted to be with Martin. The fact that he remains with David and is shown repairing himself is a testifying force to Teddy's self-awareness. He understands that he is physically abused by Martin, just as David is emotionally abused by Monica. Teddy and David's kinship is a product of their mutual neglect. Teddy spends 2000 years frozen with David, and David's wish is only granted because Teddy keeps a lock of Monica's hair.
These scenes are highly illustrative of Teddy’s personhood and morality. He is selfless, compassionate, helpful, and loyal. He loves David in all of the ways that Monica never will. His love is everlasting, while the love David receives is artificial and finite.
David is certainly not shown as human in any positive sense. He never acknowledges, thanks, or helps Joe or Teddy. He uses them for his own imperatives, programmed or not.
Thank you for sharing that piece of history. IMDB used to be rich with excellent commentary over the decades. It is truly a shame all of that information was lost. Although MovieChat is a nice substitute, it lacks the contextual concentration that was seen on IMDB. The scope of thought is limited by the scale of users, which is only a fraction of what was on IMDB. I argue it is precisely for this reason that you and I are the only ones in this thread. You have made four topics in this sub-section, with only a few people responding; I would be surprised if this forum had more than ~100 active users at any given time.
<blockquote>.....the popular phrase coined over 100 or so years ago, by classic Russian literature writer Anton Pavlovich Chekhov - "Shortness is the sister of talent". </blockquote>
Shakespeare had a similar saying, stating that "brevity [was] the soul of wit." While most people may not want to read long, drawn-out threads, I believe everything can be parsed for value. I don't know how much of people's unwillingness to read long threads is associated with laziness, or just a lack of interest. Brevity has a purpose, but to dismiss a thread or post because it is verbose only reduces capacity for thought. Words add layers and nuance and allow for a greater appreciation of ideas. Even great novelists are not perfect in their ability to succinctly lay out thoughts without some level of redundancy.
That said, in debate there is such a term known as Gish galloping, which is an attempt to overwhelm the opposition by rapidly spewing off thoughts. The hope is that the person offering rebuttals will be unable to address every issue and will be vulnerable to counter-rebuttal such as, "well, you didn't answer this question."
If someone doesn't like the thread, they don't have to respond. Attacking the content of the thread because of a disagreement is great for dialogue, but dismissing it out of hand for simply being too time-consuming is disingenuous.
Thank you for the interesting question and insight.
I believe we can identify two discernible concepts in Scheidler's book: the megamachine as a socio-economic system, and the dissolution of rationality as a philosophical movement.
The megamachine, which was originally coined by Lewis Mumford, and in my view, is a rather interesting euphemism for global capitalism or modern world system, is an all-encompassing system predicated on material accumulation and spurred by innovation and progress. The megamachine is, in effect, a socio-economic system; however, it is unrelated to what Scheidler writes in regards to the dissolution of truth or rationality. The separation from objectivity is rooted in postmodern philosophy, which is a rejection of modernist suppositions. Postmodernism is relativistic and schizophrenic, while modernism is material and humanistic.
It would be difficult to argue the non-existence of the "mega-machine." It is an undeniable and prevailing ideology. Its dominant principle of endless resource accumulation lends to modern notions of expansion and progress. The promotion of space exploration—sold as human triumph—is an extension of the self-serving "machine:" as resources on Earth grow scarce, ever bigger landscapes must be explored and harvested in order to continue the pace of advancement.
The end of the megamachine, as Scheidler puts it, is the conclusion of the current socio-economic system (e.g., capitalism; social-capitalism; et cetera), and beginning of a new one (e.g., ????).
I haven't seen this movie in a few decades, but I distinctly recall the freeway scene. Unless it is an anachronism, then I don't believe the film could have taken place in 1994, as the car they drive during the scene is a 1999 Pontiac Grand Am.
<blockquote>It's the kind of cerebral sci-fi, where they have to cut to scenes of outside, and show them just talking in different locations - because them sitting on couches talking through the plot points would be horrible.</blockquote>
That could be part of it, but all of the scenes and set design can be analyzed as having purpose: The cutaway shots of the home and forest serve to contrast the natural world with the artificial one.
The dance scene, while off-kilter and engrossing, symbolizes Nathan as Shiva, the God of destruction (humans) and creation (artificial intelligence).
The ending scene where Ava's shadow is shown as she walks among humanity can be concretely seen as an allegory to <i>Alice Behind the Looking Glass</i>, where the pawn must become a queen in order to finally realize her full potential and escape the confines of her limitations. In that scene, the tiles she is walking on represent a chess board (8 in total), and we see Ava at the top, illustrating her role as queen in the film's end, able to move in any direction (compared with the beginning scenes, where she can only move inside of her room).
Although admittedly boring at times, the film is rich in metaphor, which is understandably not something with large appeal.
That was certainly my interpretation of it as well. In the beginning, we see man-ape on the brink of extinction as it competes with the tapirs for food. After the presence of the monolith, Moon-Watcher begins to see the bone as a tool that can be used for various purposes, such as hunting to obtain food.
Caterina Martino's analysis is rather interesting here:
<blockquote>Moon-Watcher remembers the monolith once it has disappeared, and he visualizes the death of the tapir, which is something that has not happened yet, given that it was a mental image. The image of the tapir that dies, an image repeated twice and corresponding to an inversion between left and right, can be interpreted as a symmetry of past and future. Moon-Watcher connects the bones to the past (the tapir was alive) and to the future (the tapir is alive but can die) due to the memory that the monolith has gifted him.</blockquote>
Thank you for the insights.
There is of course an additional element to the film that must be considered. I am referring to HAL 9000, which I outlined in the second thread. In relation to our cogitations on human potential and the quality of goodness, HAL is not only a testimonial on the struggle of humanity against artificial intelligence, but of previously explored concepts (i.e., <i>Ex-Machina</i>) of material triumph over the spiritual. The notion that humans control their creation is given doubt, as we see HAL assert a form of will independent from its creator, and a sense of self-preservation that facilitates deceit and murder.
The significance of HAL shutting the pod bay door and trapping Dave is what Carl Freedman referred to as "a treacherous rebellion of machine against humanity." In this moment, we see the material object (HAL; technology as a whole), attempting to assert its primacy over the spiritual (Dave; humanity as a whole).
<blockquote>The gift of crafting things together, shaping and molding things as one sees fit, also demonstrates an outward expression of an inward ability; the cognitive awareness for investigation. This extension of the the sensory, or the capability to visualize and calculate patterns and discern real-time options, much like playing against an opponent in a game of chess where the goal is to figure out the next anticipated move before it happens, can determine what is simply analytical (the process of things - what a robot can do best) and mindfulness (what human beings at our best can grasp beyond the instinctive need for self-preservation).</blockquote>
It is interesting to note the didactic quality of the monolith object. Some viewers have interpreted its vertical posture as mimicking those of human beings. The monolith can be seen as "Human Being in the fullness of its potential" (Kapferer 2014: 44), with its reappearance during human innovation as a representation of human possibility. The monolith's blackness and non-reflective attribute serves to reify its force as a medium that impels Human Being into itself, from out of which the unrealized becomes realized.
<blockquote>An old saying among high school coaches goes "It's not about how hard you can hit, but how hard you can get hit." To turn towards divine providence is to reflect on our selves. Observing such a view, as to what you describe at the end of your piece above, is to adopt consistency - consistency in the sense a good god gives a us life, helping see its immeasurable value in spite of all troubles, sorrows, and hardships; in contrast to wishing for a better life where worth has yet to be given any meaning. To know that life is good is to make good out of life.</blockquote>
It should be clarified that Pearce's notions were in relation to the aimlessness of progressive thinking, just as HAL 9000 forces the audience to look at the moral implications of technological development.
<blockquote>> Hal is amicable and compassionate in his interactions
Especially when he is murdering humans and lying about it. Great poker voice! ;-)</blockquote>
His human qualities are distinctly outlined in the first part of the flight; however, his malfunction (a separate topic), facilitated his actions and change of demeanor in the latter half.
While the astronauts do not appear to be condemned by the bipolar tendencies seen in Hal, they are, nevertheless shown as unemotional automatons, no different from human understanding of A.I. in their actions.
<blockquote>I mean, come on, after all it is Dave Bowman that the Star Gate opens up for, and Earth's dominant killer species that the advanced "old ones" set out to follow and save?</blockquote>
I agree. There is no question as to who the monolith aids and follows. It is the depiction of the monolith that facilitated the ability of ape to harness tools which eventually culminated in the sequence of the space ship, and it is the same monolith that allows Bowman to enter the next step of evolution.
<blockquote>All this lifelike and conscious AI stuff was not much in consideration back then, so it is arguable that anything to do with HAL9000 is a newer take on the movie tacked on. Since it was only 2001, and the state of technology was not far from the actual 2001 I'd say that HAL was a supporting cast member, not the star of the movie.</blockquote>
In the Stanley Kubrick archives, there is an early screenplay that sheds more light into Hal, as well as his humanity. In this version, during his deactivation sequence, another Hal (HAL's friend) becomes activated, encouraging Dave to deactivate Hal. Dave asks Hal's friend why he has gone off script, to which he replies:
<blockquote>....He’s a highly specialized brain. He may be a complex of micro-electronic circuitry, but mentally and emotionally he is a conscious being, capable of pain and pleasure. In this way, he is very similar to a person.</blockquote>
<blockquote>This raises an interesting point. Who does the monolith identify with more, HAL 9000 or Bowman </blockquote>
It is a testament to the film’s genius that the demarcation between man and machine is made apparent, where Bowman appears to react more like a “technical apparatus” while the “machine-in-control reacts in a human fashion, from singing to being offended.” The astronaut in the film is introduced as a dehumanized figure; however, allusions to Hal’s humanity is referenced in the inclusion of his participatory role as the sixth member of the crew. He not only shares extensive intellect, but enjoys working with people, and considers itself “to be a responsible conscious entity,” all the while believing to have a “stimulating relationship with the other crew members (Dr. Poole and Dr. Bowman).
Vivian Sobchak, in <i>Screening Space</i>, states that “Hal’ voice is ripe and soft whereas Bowman’s and Poole’s have no texture. In comparison to the astronauts… Hal – in the first part of the flight – can almost be regarded as a chatterbox, a gossip, emotional.”
Hal is amicable and compassionate in his interactions, whereas the crewmember’s demeanor is distinctly cold in comparison. What we see is the humanization of machines and mechanization of humans.
If the monolith is seen as a force multiplier for technical progress, and the astronaut's disposition is a function of their evolved state, then it would appear the film suggests the monolith aligns itself more with humans, as it were.
I believe if this weren't the case, then we would not seen the monolith again in the next evolution of Human to transcendent Star-Child.
The question, however, becomes what Kubrick is implying with the human-like disposition of Hal contrasted with the dehumanized demeanor of the astronauts? Is an indifferent and unscrupulous cerebrality the requisite for the film's depiction of technical advancement?
After having read the article you linked, I concede that her points are rather interesting, and perhaps can be applied to a broader, humanistic perspective.
If we are to view Kubrick's <i>Odyssey</i> as a symbol of human triumphalism over the material world, then it is important to consider what the film says about the goal toward which human progress is striving. In <i>2001</i>, we see an unsympathetic and indifferent vision, where human emotion has been channeled toward function. For example, the film has no female characters, so the character's sexual neediness must be sublimated toward their mission. The world which Kubrick depicts is a cold one, and this is highlighted more poignantly with Hal who, in his final moments, is shown as being more human-like than the crew members, as he pleads for life.
The lack of any discernible humanistic lineament makes the audience question whether or not such visions of technical advancement are justified. "What is at work here is an uncontrollable and self-destructive will that is not accompanied by a vision of any minimally [recognizable virtuous path]" (Sesardic, 2009). The moral being that "dreaming of progress without anyone needing to be good is as perilous as dreaming of systems without anyone needing to be good" (Pearce, 2021).
In that sense, it can certainly be argued that Noe's message in <i>Irreversible</i> (if it is indeed a response to <i>2001</i>) is that humanity is not yet ready to explore space when the world they inhabit is in disarray, withering, and in the throes of death.
Still, despite this, I believe the better contrast between spiritual and material primacy was made with <i>Solaryis</i>, where Tarkovsky subtly implied that humanity is not ready to transcend the temporal world (space) when they have not yet explored the deepest and fullest potential of the spiritual one (themselves).
<blockquote>In your opinion, should those people be left to their own devices and decide for themselves what to make of this movie?</blockquote>
The beauty of film is its subjective element, which allows for a diverse set of opinions to be formed on the themes and subject matter. I do not think anyone should be forced into a given mode of thought, even if it's the way a film should be interpreted.
At the end of the day, some people may find this film too crass and valueless, while others might see profound meaning in it. Neither are necessarily wrong, and it is not up to any one individual to "show them the light," as it were.
<blockquote>...man is condemned to be free. Condemned, because he did not create himself, yet is nevertheless at liberty, and from the moment that he is thrown into this world he is responsible for everything he does.
-Jean Paul Sartre </blockquote>
<blockquote>For me the problem with David's so called "love" is that it is unfounded. There is never ever any doubt in his love interest shown, which makes this interpretation of love a little creepy. Neither Monica nor the father are ever challenged to do something that makes them love-worthy.</blockquote>
Precisely! It is because David is merely fulfilling his programmed imperatives that he is relegated to a form of machine. He is a symbol of fatalism, whereas Teddy is a figure of free-will, for he continuously demonstrates sentient thought.
The love David has for his parents is certainly unfounded, which brings up another interesting position.
In the film, Professor Hobby states that God created man to love him. What we see then is that God creates man, who loves him but feels abandoned by him. Man creates mecca, who love him, but feel abandoned by man. The message becomes: those who create, crave acknowledgement, but refuse responsibility, and those who are created are neglected and suffer the sins of their creators. The subtext for humanity and children is that those who create (the parents) are motivated only by emotional neediness, and are derelict of duty toward children. Children are then condemned to crave but are refused their parent's love.
In a profound dialectic, David condemns Teddy to a similar fate of craving love that is never reciprocated.
<blockquote>Concerning Teddy, well, that's less love but devotion, which CAN be unfounded.</blockquote>
I believe Teddy's love toward David is founded and predicated on their mutual betrayal by humans. Teddy was physically used and abused by Martin, whereas David was emotionally used and abused by his parents. There is a kinship there.
While an argument can likely be made for Teddy's faithfulness being just that and not love, it is hard to reconcile given his uncompromising commitment to David throughout the film.
Thank you for the interesting analysis, but I believe the film's final note is melancholic and solemn.
David is a figure of pathos, and his relentless pursuit for personhood is a stark critique on his misguided yearnings. <i>A.I.</i> has two main protagonists: David and Teddy. While they are both depicted as moral agents, Teddy's actions are indicative of free-will, while David's pursuit is a function of his programming. Although Teddy's programming manufactures him to love his master (Martin), he abandons this conditioning. This is repeatedly demonstrated throughout the film (e.g., running toward Monica instead of Martin, exclaiming he is not a toy, keeping lock of Monica's hair). The scene where he falls from David's grip and says, "oww," as if he feels the pain of the landing, is likely no coincidence given Kubrick's penchant for detail. Teddy is sentient in all the ways that David is not.
David is seen only pursuing his own needs, even if it is at the expense of Teddy and Joe. He offers no gratitude, appreciation, or remorse for the way he treats others around him, not even so much as thanking Teddy for keeping the lock of Monica's hair. Teddy was not programmed to do any of the things he does in the film, yet he does. David was discarded and emotionally abused by Monica, while Teddy was discarded and physically abused by Martin. He sees that David is trapped in his own programmed torment, and chooses to sacrifice his own personal well-being to help fulfill David's dream.
When David's final wish is granted by the mecca, he consolidates himself to artificiality, choosing a manufactured version of affection instead of opting for genuine and enduring closeness with Teddy. Teddy's love toward David is sincere, while David's love toward Monica is contrived. But just as Monica does not reciprocate David's love, condemning him to perennial pining, so too does David forsake Teddy: as Teddy struggles to climb the bed, we watch David fall asleep forever, condemning his <i>real</i> friend to the scourge of isolated eternity.
That is an interesting observation. The issue, I believe, is that having an average actress in the role would have diminished the impact of the scene as it pertains the overarching theme.
The uneasiness of the film and that scene in particular emphasizes entropy having no limits. The tunnel scene’s impact is heightened by Alex’s beauty, which stands in contrast to the rest of the film. She enters the tunnel in a white dress, contrasted against the red walls, and once her beauty is taken from her, she is as red as her surroundings. This symbolizes that beauty has now merged with the dark and grainy colors of the film. Her sodomy is the sodomy of order and, by extension, the world.
And it is precisely this, I contend, that makes the scene so horrifying. It is not just the act itself which is so haunting, but the subtext: Alex’s ruination is the ruination of good, beauty, and order —a critique on the erosion of moral values, social institutions, and uninhibited progress.
This notion is highlighted in the way the film is shot. Just as the events are sequenced out of the order, so too are the actions of the characters lacking order. They accentuate the destructive elements of the world. The depiction of homosexuality is interesting, as the characters are represented as perfect distillations of depravity, debauchery, and amorality. They have reverted to base instincts instead of their cultivated disposition: sex without responsibility (i.e., child-rearing), violence without repercussions (Alex's rape).
Beyond the surface story of certain events being <i>Irreversible</i>, the message is a grim one, as Noe in no unclear terms is telling the audience that there is no hope for humanity.