December 5, 2008

CE#3 – Cool Hand Luke: The New Gospel and the DIY Christ

SO MANY SPOILERS.

But the movie’s like 40 years old. So any complaints are invalid. Kinda like with Lord of The Rings.

It was originally written by Donn Pearce in 1965, it was converted into a screenplay by him and Frank Pierson, and then Cool Hand Luke went on to become one of the most highly regarded films ever made. It was set in a road prison in the Florida Panhandle during the 50’s. The movie starred Paul Newman in the titular role, George Kennedy as Dragline, and Strother Martin as “The Captain.” This film managed to turn every major character it had into a cultural figure, and every quote from it rings in people’s ears for days after they hear it. It has been preserved in the National Film Registry for being “Culturally, Historically, or Aesthetically Significant.”

So what makes it so great a film? Well, it has this one specific character, Luke, who everyone in camp looks up to. And everyone else I know who’s seen the film does, too. Why is he so admirable? There’s a real question.

One of the first things people really notice about the films deeper levels is that Luke is a Christ Figure. The examples of it are pretty blatant, and there are plenty of examples. At one point, he commits to eating fifty eggs. This becomes the biggest thing to ever happen at the camp, and everyone makes a bet on it. As the fifty prisoners (and the cook, and even Carr, the floorwalker) watch, he finishes every one of them. He passes out at the end, lying on a table, in the shape of a crucifix. This is perfect, because each egg could be considered the sins of a prisoner, and he suffered like that for them. Those bets come into it, too: Red says, around the 40th egg, that “Every cent in camp is riding on this.” Those cents represent their souls.

Since Luke doesn’t believe in God (which is only ironic for a real Jesus, not for Luke), he wears a bottle opener around his neck instead of a cross (which would be ironic for the real Jesus). The other prisoners idolize him for being the man they all wish they could be, and the prison guards hate him for having a power over the prisoners they don’t have. At the same time, the guards of the camp can’t overpower him and get him to bend to their will.

Now, why do the prisoners think they can never exist on the same level he does? The reason is because of the way they play the game. Before Luke showed up, they all looked up to Dragline, because he knew the rules better than anyone, and could therefore deal with them better. Luke, however, knows the rules and knows that they don’t matter. He’s just biding his time, looking for something to do. If he is limited by anything, it’s that he doesn’t want his mother to have to bury him – and we see him pull out all the stops after her death. During his third escape attempt, he holes up in an old country church, where he has a dialogue with God. Of note are when he calls The Lord “Old Man,” a synonym for “father” (which is what “abba” means), and when he says that “you [God] haven’t dealt me any cards in a long time,” which is easily compared to Christ’s “Why have you forsaken me?”

Now that we’ve established that we’re dealing with the most obvious Christ figure since the Bible, we can dive into it with everything outside of just Luke. First, the leadership of the camp represents the Roman state, with the Captain taking the place of Roman leadership from the emperor down to Pontius Pilot. Everything this man does is ultimately designed to bring Luke down from the messiah position he holds with the other prisoners, because if Luke and the prisoners are totally unafraid of him, then he has no power over them.

Boss Godfry, also known as The Walking Boss, or The Man with No Eyes, is a silent figure of oppression. He gains his second moniker from the ever-present reflective aviators he wears, which blocks his eyes, and instead show the observer. He is perpetually silent. He could be representative of many things, such as the devil, the unyielding pressure of oppression, or even as a reflection of the prisoners. His reflective eyes and silent nature can allow prisoners, guards, and the Captain to place their problems onto him, as sometimes happens with a family pet. For the prisoners, he is opposed to every action they take to establish free will, so the reflection is that he is the opposite of them. He is free, and wants them to stay imprisoned. Therefore, when his spectacles are shown as reflecting a prisoner, all that he represents is the consequences of their actions.

The devil in him is shown best in the scene where he shoots a snake. After he shoots it, he leaves it on the ground, and then reaches down to where he put it and hands him his cane. He is never shown putting his cane down at that spot, so it seems as if the dead snake transforms into it. This means that, when Luke picked up the snake to be shot, he was totally violating the isolation of that boss. Towards the end of the movie, Dragline attacks him and knocks off his glasses, which are then run over by a vehicle, destroying his isolation and everything we know about him.

Carr, the floorwalker, is the guard in the bunkhouse. He presumably stays up all night keeping watch over the prisoners, always counting them and making sure none escape. He never shown sleeping, and seen nearly every time the prisoners are at the camp. He dresses in all white, save his black boots, and paces the aisle to count the men. He can be considered as an angelic guard in Purgatory, watching and ensuring that all of the souls in for cleansing stay their time. His white clothing and general kindness to the prisoners are contrary to everyone else in the camp, representing his purity and angelic love. However, his black boots show that he constantly walks in the mud of sin.

The Captain can also be seen as a Purgatorial figure, leading the way in the cleansing of these men. However, he does his job cruelly, and could be more properly figured as a demonic figure. He wants all of the prisoners to accept his word as law, as evidenced by the incredibly famous quote of “what we have here is failure to communicate.” In the movie, all of the communication with the Captain is from the top down, and there is almost no talking to the captain. One figure the Captain can be aligned with is Catos, from Dante’s Divine Comedy. When the new prisoners first arrive, they are stood in front of the Captain’s porch, where he reads off their offenses and their length of stay, much like the aforementioned pagan. However, he does not seem to figure well with the fact that Cato so loved freedom that he gave his life rather than be oppressed by Caesar.

Finally, Dragline seems to be an amalgam of several disciples. First, he is like Peter, because he is very close to Luke and spread his gospel. Also though, he becomes an accidental Judas when the police use him to get at Luke.

So Luke is quite the Christ figure. But why is he more significant and amazing than others? One reason is the fantastic storytelling. Another, perhaps, is that he is so much smaller than Christ. All he does is follow his own rules, and he doesn’t need anyone else. He understands that others need him, and can usually deal with it. He never plans anything, he just runs with what seems right at the moment. He has learned the lesson of the reeds: if you stand strong, like a tree, against the winds, you can stay upright in a breeze. But at the first gust, you will break. A reed will bend over in any breeze, but will never be broken.

Because Luke never performs a miracle beyond his exercise in egg consumption, he seems a more attainable figure. He is great, yes, but not so great as to be impossible to emulate. And just imagine: if the whole world were like Luke, where might we be?