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Nirvana
Nirvana contains one of the most original opening scenes that you’re likely to see all year: A video game designer (Christopher Lambert) is testing his new realistic, virtual reality game, in which the hero (Diego Abatantuono) is required to walk into a room and follow the player’s orders. Lambert gives the command, “Pick up the gun,” and the wide-eyed Abatantuono turns to the TV screen and says, “I don’t want to play anymore! I refuse to do what you say.” This bizarre exchange sets the tone for the entire film, which is a cyber-punk fantasy that plays like an irreverent combination of Blade Runner, Tron, Frankenstein, Until the End of the World, a Super Mario Brothers videogame (it’s certainly no coincidence that the videogame hero bears a striking resemblance to a certain Italian plumber), and Hardware. Because it is in the cyber-punk genre, there are a few prerequisites that we know will be included: A rock soundtrack, human cyborgs walking around like normal members of society, a road-trip storyline that takes you deeper and deeper into a gritty underworld, and person with blue hair. And at least one scene featuring a dwarf. The plot: It’s only a few days before Christmas in the not-so-distant future (another prerequisite cyber-punk cliché), and that’s the deadline for Jimi, the aforementioned videogame designer, to perfect his latest game, Nirvana, and get it to the distributors in time for after Christmas sales. Jimi’s own personal life is something of a wreck: His girlfriend has recently dumped him via a virtual message and vanished without a trace, and his job has got him so imprisoned in the world of virtual reality games that they have even rigged a computerized voice in his hotel room to remind him how many hours and minutes he has left to complete the game. He’s become such a depressed, reclusive zombie that it’s no wonder that he hardly registers any shock when Solo, the hero of his game, defiantly exclaims, “I’m tired of playing this stupid game!” It’s clear that Jimi feels his pain. Director/writer Gabriele Salvatores, who recently won acclaim for his thriller I’m Not Scared, never explains exactly how Solo becomes self-aware; then, I’m not sure any explanation would really suffice, except that this is a cyber-punk fantasy where bizarre things are naturally going to happen. A “computer virus” is the fast explanation that’s thrown out nonchalantly, but it’s never discussed again. Instead, the film quickly moves forward with its plot: Jimi and Solo are soon having a heart-to-heart talk, in which the latter sadly reveals, “I’m tired of living the same life over and over again. All this dying and coming back to life is terrible. You made me, Jimi, and now, I want you to delete me.” Jimi, seemingly moved because of the reflection of his own dilemma that he sees in Solo, is more than happy to comply. For him, deleting Nirvana represents an escape from the mundane dullness of his existence, and he readily accepts the invitation. But the undertaking is easier said than done: A hard copy of Nirvana has already been sent out to the publishers and will be given to distributors in a few hours. Jimi was simply working on a few touch-ups. But if all of the Nirvana games have this virus, it means that Solo will be cursed with this self-awareness in every videogame-owning home across the civilized world. The only way to delete the game now would be to find a computer virus capable of shutting down the company’s online system that contains the game’s hard copy. The only way to do find such a virus is to venture into the dark, Blade Runner-inspired underworlds where the best hackers hide. Thus, Jimi is off into cyber-hell to save Solo from a terrible fate. At this point, the film begins telling two alternative stories: The first is of Jimi’s plight into the increasingly wacky underworld in an attempt to find both the right virus and his old girlfriend for possible reconciliation attempts. This storyline is murky at best and incoherent and worst, but nevertheless contains a brilliantly imaged future world where “the past and the future collide.” Mainly taking place in underground tunnels and caves, it is a nightmarish vision of what a future might hold: Even Hindu shamans, who lead devoted cults that make up the most of this neglected society, carry personal laptops. Will it come to this? The second story deals with Solo in the videogame world, and it is a lot more charming and simple. The game that Solo is forced to play bears a reasonable resemblance to Grand Theft Auto and the like—Solo is a gangster who must steal cars and fight odd characters more villainous than he is in order to advance in the game. And his enemies make sure that he advances, whether he wants to or not. The film has fun poking at videogame staples: When the hero dies, the screen turns red and he starts again at the beginning of the level, and Solo often laments how depraved this whole exercise of killing and shooting people really is. Salvatores’ imagining of this environment as a visual world is stunning: It is shot mainly in grainy black and white, eyes glow unnaturally, and bright, neon colors occasionally appear on random people and objects. The whole affect is not entirely dissimilar to the cinematography of Robert Rodriguez’s Sin City—made some eight years later. Diego Abatantuono and Christopher Lambert are fine in the leads; the connection that their characters share is convincingly portrayed and the most coherent element of the movie. The rest of the cast ranges from effective to hokey, as a cyber-punk cast should. There are some clever twists in the end that are strangely moving, and the closing act almost certainly inspired The Matrix, which came out two years later. Granted, not much of this exercise makes sense, but on the aesthetic level, Salvatores guarantees that we will never be bored. Miramax has had this film—which quickly became a cult classic in Europe when it was released in 1997—on the shelf for years, and they have just now decided to dump it on DVD in an English-dubbed version. They could have at least given us the film in its original language, and I fear that some of the impact might have been lost in translation. I also see that the original print ran 113 minutes, whereas the American version clocks in just over 90 minutes. All this to say, if my readers in the States can obtain a European version, they are advised that it is probably the better (or at least the most coherent) of the two cuts. As it stands now, Nirvana is ranked alongside other cyber-punk cult classics like Hardware, Equilibrium, The Thirteenth Floor, and Until the End of the World as a film that doesn’t quite work but is nevertheless fascinating to behold. Cast: Miramax Films presents a Colorado Films production Directed by Gabriele Salvatores. Written by Salvatores, with Pino Cacucci and Gloria Corica. Rated R, for violence, language, drug use, and brief sensuality. Running time: 96 minutes. Original year of release: 1997. U.S. release: March 1, 2005 (to DVD). English dubbed. Questions? Comments? E-mail me: danel_the_tinman@hotmail.com |
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