V for Vendetta

V for Vendetta

When I first walked into the theater to see V for Vendetta I had extremely high expectations, perhaps too high to be
honest. The trailers were impressive. From the first preview I was looking forward to the Wachowski brothers’ flair for
badass battle in the midst of a story about revolutionary dissent. A number of people I knew went to see it on its first
weekend. The reviews were beyond impressive. This movie appeared to be everything I had hoped for it. It was to be the
embodiment of the edginess of the graphic novel meeting the technological punch of Hollywood. Finally, they had realized
that we were ready to actually watch something that would leave us some room for thought while also being entertained.
Was I too greedy expecting meaning and excitement at the same time? I was not. I thought the movie delivered on both
fronts quite nicely. Yet, as I left the theater I was bothered. It was a good movie but it had not hit me the way some others
had. I was left unimpressed. I was left wanting something more. One of my first thoughts was to go out and buy the
graphic novel, read it and hope it filled the emptiness the movie had not filled. Unfortunately, I did not do this. It would still
be interesting to read the graphic novel especially because Alan Moore refused to have his name on the movie.
V for Vendetta appeared to be a movie made for me. It had provocative ideas that left me thinking even after leaving the
film but without the arrogance of a grand idea like the Matrix. Also the action was well done but did not dominate the
story. Even in the most pure action flicks the action should not dominate the storytelling. In a sense it occurred to me that
however I felt about V for Vendetta it had succeeded. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I soon figured out that what had bothered me about the movie was the inability of the viewer to truly relate to the main
character V. After all, we never see his face, never see any of his facial expressions and don’t necessarily get to know him
other than in the flashback about how he was created. Our main mode of relating to him is through Evey. She reflects him
for us. She is the only one who gets to relate to him as a person. She even comments on this at the end of the movie. He
was a symbol to everyone, including the audience, but a person to her. In some ways the movie was a victim of its own
premise. It told us about how a symbol like V could tear down an authoritarian government, or in broader terms any
system of supression. Essentially, that there was some V in each one of us, that we were all V and V was all of us. It was
inconsequential whether V actually existed once the mob had adopted him as their symbol of revolt. By becoming a
symbol V gave up his individuality. He became immortal by ceasing to be a person. People get forgotten, they fade
away, the differences they made begin to blend in with their surroundings until the person is hard to find. But a symbol can
keep living, inspiring, making a difference. It is a trade off. V for the viewer was a symbol just as he was for those who
rallied around him. It was difficult to really care about him as long as his sacrifice carried on. Evey on the other hand knew
him as a person, understood him as a person, he was real to her. He was never real to us. This is what had bothered me
as I walked out of the movie. The emptiness I felt was the lack of connection I felt with V. I wanted to care about him. It
was a good movie, I wanted to participate, I wanted to feel for V. But I didn’t. I was just as much part of the movement he
created as all the in-movie participants. He was my symbol. I looked within myself for parts of him. I never got to know
him. He served as an inspiration for me to find strength, for me to think about things, for me to question.
I came to the conclusion that you can’t be both a symbol and a person. Symbols can evoke a complex set of feelings and
unleash a complex set of events but they themselves are not complex. People are complex. What we love about people is
their complexity. We relate to their inconsistencies, their questions, their emotions. V didn’t feel human because we
missed out on all of that. He felt detached. He was human though, Evey reflected that for us. So perhaps I would have felt
better about the movie if I had gotten to understand and know V the way Evey did. This was the endpoint of my thinking. A
good movie that was victimized by the premise of its main character.
That was not to be the end of this story. V for Vendetta was a success and like all successful movies it had a much
anticipated DVD release. On the day of the release everyone rushed out to purchase the most badass movie of the year.
It had developed a following similar to Boondock Saints or Donnie Darko in terms of being the cool movie. I’m normally a
sucker for the cool movie so needless to say I was a bit chagrined that I had not fallen for this one. There are never enough
cool movies. Luckily for me a friend promptly arrived with her brand new copy and declared that we would be watching it. I
agreed to watch, planning on wandering away somewhere in the middle. Yet this time was different. I can’t pinpoint the
difference. Perhaps I had lowered my expectations to the point that I became impressed. I don’t think it was that simple
though. I think I paid attention a little better. I think all that thinking I had done after the first viewing had cleared my mind
and allowed me to focus on some of the more meaningful aspects of the movie as a whole as well as what V was saying.
By no means am I saying that I had figured out how to pluck out the true meaning or anything like that. Merely that I was
able to pluck out the tidbits that meant more to me personally. These personal connections I made allowed me to relate to
the movie, and even to V himself, better. The large scheme of symbols versus people, terrorism versus revolution and all
the other themes that abounded still intrigue me and inspire me to thought. This time the film was more personal though.
All that thought and expectation of thought had clouded my mind and prevented me from enjoying the movie to the greatest
degree possible. Once I got my deep ponderings out of the way I was able to personalize my viewing and be touched by
things I had missed the first time around. So my conclusion changed. It was a great movie, very badass, very cool, full of
wonderful themes to think about but also something that can lead you to searches within yourself. I can’t say it will ever
reach the heights of my favorite movies but I can announce my respect for the movie. Maybe I need a third viewing to
break the tie. Or maybe I should just wait until I’m wandering through the video store and feel like listening to a lot of
alliteration with the letter V.