[EdLocke]

Despite the great name, I did not like Locke and do not recommend it. It is very boring; the whole movies takes place in one car. I did not find the actor attractive. The actor was trying to act on his values while dealing with all kinds of conflicts, so one can admire him up to a point, but the whole plot puts him in impossible situations (some of his own making). I saw more futility than heroism.

[MikeBerliner]

I agree with Ed Locke’s view of “Locke” and must say that I’m puzzled by the praise for the film. The main (the only) character did try to make the best of a bad situation, but that situation was of his own making. Since it was his past evasion that created the problem, the admiration due him is minimal.

[CynthiaGillis]

I may already have posted my very favorable review of this move, but I do want to reply to the unfavorable reviews by Ed Locke and Mike Berliner, and perhaps explain why I find it so powerful.

SPOILER ALERT:  I can’t defend this movie without giving away plot points.  Read no further if you intend to see it.

Yes, the situation is of Locke’s own making.  But this was not the focus of the movie at all.

First, it is an ingeniously presented situation. Far from being boring, telling the whole story, having it unfold in “real” time, in one setting, entirely with dialog, was an amazing feat of story-telling.  I accurately described it as a thriller without a murder mystery — and it had my heart pounding.

It portrays a man of great skill, a brilliant, practical and talented builder, overcoming escalating issues on a construction job he is running.  

The man is a brilliant construction manager; he reminds me of the construction manager in Calumet K, or some characters in Atlas who go to such extraordinary lengths to overcome difficulties in their work — Rearden at his mills, Dagny when building the John Galt Line.    

As each problem arises we see how he solves it, calmly and with the ingenuity of experience.  (This is the thriller part, by the way — watching unfold the creation of a historically great industrial site).

And the movie’s (boring?) setup requires him to do this high-level management while driving a car and battling with enormous emotional circumstances:  hurting his wife, consoling the woman he impregnated, dealing with his sons; and all while making sure that this massive concrete construction feat takes place as planned, in his absence.

I would say the theme of this movie is honesty.  Yes, even though he cheated on his wife. We see his unrelenting honesty to the woman he impregnated, when he is unwilling to say he feels more for her than he does, despite her pleas.  We learn that he had a plan to tell his wife about the mistake he made, and to tell her well before the birth occurred — but the birth is premature.   

I think it is a shame to dismiss this film  — and its portrayal of a great man, its ingenious setup, its magnificent acting — because the character made a mistake (for which he chose to pay the consequences).  To do so is to miss the pleasure of a true work of art.  

[StephenGrossman]

Cynthia G, 3,

 

It portrays a man of great skill, a brilliant, practical and talented builder, overcoming escalating issues on a construction job he is running.

Locke has a good, rational, highly self-possessed sense of life and high self-esteem. This is rare in modern drama. He solves some constructtion problems after he is fired because he values the work and himself as worker. This is part of the story’s value, despite any flaws. 

[EdThompson]

Spoilers follow.

This movie is based on a gimmick—one that fails. As reported earlier, other than for the opening, the entire movie takes place in a 1-1/2 hour car ride. The viewer is treated to endless scenes of flashing lights, road signs, traffic, reflections, GPS and various other distractions, some in focus, some not, in order to fill the gaps between countless phone conversations.

Ivan Locke is a construction manager driving to hospital to be present for the birth of his “illegitimate” child, on the premise that, unlike his father, he was “going to be there” for the child. An adulterer, Lock has no love for the woman who seems to be irrational; he’s just taking responsibility—never mind that a newborn would be unaware of his presence! The illogic of “being there for him” is mind numbing.

The story takes place late in the evening before the beginning of the 5:25 AM pouring of 355 metric tons of concrete, the largest such event in the history of Europe, and for which he is responsible.

Locke engages in a series of conversations in which he hands off his duties to a foreman of sorts, one who drinks. After much back and forth, by the end he seems to have the job under control. But we never find out how it went.

The many machinations and twists that are encountered, e.g., tracking down a bureaucrat having dinner in a restaurant in order to have a permit signed or having the drunk run somewhere (he was too inebriated to drive) to bribe some Polish workers to fix some problem, are indications that he had not properly prepared for the next day’s event in the first place and that he had abandoned his responsibilities. The job was worth some $100 million; if the concrete was poured improperly, there would be serious consequences—and he would not be there. Properly, he was fired by management in Chicago.

In between putting out fires, he calls his wife to explain: Dear, I won’t be home tonight; I’m having a baby. Several calls later, he has lost his family, a wife and two boys, which raises the question of how he will be there for them.

The gimmick, by compressing a series of bad judgements into an improbable timeline, fails to make sense of taking on the diversion, while abandoning a major responsibility. Locke loses everything—for nothing.

[JohnGillis]

While clearly, Mr. Thompson really disliked the movie “Locke”, and this is no attempt to convince him to have a different reaction (which would be absurd), I must report he made many misstatements about the facts in the movie

1. The claim that Locke is just “going to be there” for the illegitimate child is untrue.  You imply he is just going to the birth event, period. He makes it clear that unlike his father, he, Locke, will make sure this newborn will have a father in the long term, and not be abandoned by his absent father.  

2. You say, “By the end he seems to have the job under control.”  — implying he didn’t earlier.  Locke is clearly presented as a man who HAS the job under control all along; the whole upcoming massive concrete pour event and its details are in his memory without any notes.  He is now facing and dealing with, last minute problems that always arise on a jobsite.  (As a sometime construction manager, and an architect, I know they happen — regardless of how well one plans — sometime because of the bad behavior of contractors, suppliers, individuals….). 

3.  Re: your comment “…bribe some Polish workers”:  What a distortion!  He directed his assistant to pay them a lot of money for overtime!   In capitalism that is called an incentive. 

4. Re: “…had not properly prepared for the next day’s event.”  Again, wrong.  He told his assistant early in the movie to go and personally check every crucial rebar installation at the piers, and not delegate it to lesser persons.  Later in the movie the assistant calls him and reports that certain installations by the rebar subcontractor were defective, and that the subcontractor isn’t answering his phone.  So, Locke gets him to find a crew nearby whom he knows… and he knows they have the know-how to fix the problem…and he arranges to pay them handsomely to deal with the screw-up by the other contractor.    The other crisis he handles is a bureaucratic one, and boy, those are not always in one’s control.  If you don’t know that from personal experience, just refer to Atlas for some examples.

5. The “firing”.  Because of his enormous sense of care and responsibility for this massive project, he refused to be fired, and proceeded to make sure the pour would go well.  It is a perversion to report the “firing” without the context of him completing the tasks up to the pour regardless of the objective mistake by his superiors in firing him.   And this was a classic piece of romantic writing, because it showed that the integrity of the work, and its success, were more important to him than the job working for this company, or accepting the decision of far-away executives on another continent.

6. Calling his wife.  Perhaps you didn’t notice, and it was handled perhaps too quickly in the script, that the reason his wife didn’t know about the adulterous one-time event was due to the baby being premature.  Sure, he had some leeway, and could have told her sooner than he had; and possibly he would have avoided the shock of doing it while going to fulfill his accepted obligation to his newborn.  But he didn’t and that was a serious mistake and a premise of the script.   Calling it a gimmick is like calling some of Ayn Rand’s setups as gimmicks (and she had no problem using that word as a badge of honor on occasion in regard to her writing craft.)

7. Re: “a series of misjudgments”.   There were only two I know of in the movie: 

a. He had a moral failure in sleeping with the woman in the first place. 

b. He should have told his wife earlier, and not waited until closer to the birth date, but he hadn’t anticipated the premature birth. 

As for these two failures, they are the stuff of good value-oriented fiction writing.  Where would Dominique be as a character without her wildly mistaken ideas, or Wynand’s character without his stupendous moral failures, or Rearden’s fascinating character study without his partial acceptance of the altruist morality.  Sure, Locke is not at that level of philosophical writing, but so little is.  However, there were zero misjudgments regarding his work, so your report is misleading.

As my wife said in her post, the theme of the movie is honesty, and he is brutally honest with everyone in the timeframe of the film, and it is a brilliant play.  Of course, part of what makes the theme so significant is his initial failure in that one-night encounter with a co-worker,  under some emotional circumstances in which he truly screwed up.  But he then chose to regain his full sense of honesty by taking responsibility of both his error and his commitment to his work.

[EdThompson]

In response to John Gillis (#6):

Mr. Gillis asserts that I “made many misstatements about the facts in the movie,” while misrepresenting most of what I wrote. A careful rereading of my post is indicated.

However, he got at least a couple of things right. First, yes, I really disliked the movie Locke.

Second, yes, I erroneously characterized the payment to the workers as a bribe. Observe, however, the point I was making and that he ignored it. Namely, Locke, “a man who HAS the job under control,” is in a position of having to rely on a drunk to handle contingencies in his absence, rather than “delegate it to lesser persons.”

Therein lies the flaw in the storyline. Let’s stipulate that the protagonist is eminently qualified, principled and dedicated. No man in his position would have left the area of the largest concrete pour in the history of Europe for such a contrived reason. “As a sometime construction manager, and an architect, I know they happen — regardless of how well one plans . . .)” Yes, Murphy’s Law is always operative—all the more reason to remain on site.

Now let’s look at the consequences.

Locke loses his job—and his reputation. It was not an “objective mistake by his superiors in firing him,” it was just. He was expected to be on the job—a $100 million job—but he was not. He had left for a very uncompelling, nonessential reason—which, rightfully, was of no significance to his superiors. As a consequence, he was without the income he would need to support his newborn child, in contradiction to the very reason for his absence, not to mention supporting his family (which he may needlessly have lost) and himself. No doubt, he would find another job, but I seriously doubt that anyone would entrust him with responsibilities comparable to the level of achievement he had attained. Who would he use as a reference? Who would trust him?

And for what? The plot centers on Locke’s admirable commitment to being a good father to the child. Yet, as I wrote, being there for him means being there while he is growing up and has nothing whatsoever to do with being present at the birth. In ordinary times, it might have been a desirable option. But this was an extraordinary time. He had a commitment to be on the job to handle contingencies first hand. That he did so while driving is irrelevant. He put the job at risk, for which he was appropriately fired.

The gimmick that I referred to (and Mr. Gillis misrepresented) is the plot structure that compresses incredibly unlikely events into a short trip. It is an ingenious idea, I suppose. But it does not work for the illogic of events. No sane man in Locke’s position would have left the area on the eve of such a momentous occasion, much less for such a cockamamie excuse.

Poetic license is a form of art, but it is not a license to steal from reality—fiction, not fantasy. Are we to believe that Locke had his drunk assistant (he was too drunk to drive) go out “and personally check every crucial rebar installation” on a project that took weeks or months to construct . . . as an afterthought for a task that should have been accomplished well beforehand . . . in the dark . . . on the biggest pour in history . . . that that could be done even in daylight in a matter of minutes . . . and that he can arrange for a fix just in the nick of time? (This is in real time, remember.) That’s stretching the gimmick beyond credulity.

Furthermore, no rational man would have told his wife of his adultery over the phone, especially when it could have waited until after the pour. Again, anything but logic to support the gimmick.

I wonder if anyone noticed the significance of the blinker. As the movie begins, Locke sheds his work cloths, drives off the site and stops for a traffic light. He signals for a left turn while deep in thought on his way home. A honk from behind prompts him to act; he switches to a right turn and heads for the hospital instead. Impulsive? I do not know. He must have been thinking for some time, but I take it that he made the decision at a traffic stop to abandon his responsibility to be on hand personally to manage contingencies.

As an Objectivist for half-century, it is a bit galling to be referred to Atlas based on a misrepresentation.

I continue to be surprised at how easily some Objectivists seem desperate to discover another Roark. But Locke lacks judgmental skills of a hero. See Ed Locke (#1); he is much more pithy than am I.

The movie Locke has no redeeming value.

[StephenGrossman]

Ed T ,7, 

I continue to be surprised at how easily some Objectivists seem desperate to discover another Roark. But Locke lacks judgmental skills of a hero. See Ed Locke (#1); he is much more pithy than am I.

The movie Locke has no redeeming value.

Ed L, 1,

The actor [character] was trying to act on his values while dealing with all kinds of conflicts, so one can admire him up to a point

The plot does seem to have the holes that Ed Thompson claims. I recall being disturbed by certain events in the story. But Locke is presented as a rational man with a solidly confident control of himself, with a sense of life that expresses this. This is his value, as much as the writer intended with the plot. Ed Locke sees this. This is the basic similarity to Roark. Or the heros in Atlas Shrugged. Or Jean Valjean. Or Odysseus, the first rational hero. And, given our nihilist culture, the desire for rational heros in art is a rational desperation, regardless of errors in identifying them. Locke’s rational confidence and self-confidence are rationally inspiring values. Let us hope that other movies will be inspired by Locke’s rational self-esteem while providing a rational plot. 

[JohnGillis]

The first requirement of creating a review of an artwork is to base one’s esthetic evaluation on the facts of the work — whether it is the objective characteristics of what a sculpture represents, or the sequence of events and characters in a novel, or the plot line of a movie.  I objected to Mr. Thompson’s characterizations of the plot line because in some cases they do not represent what actually took place on the screen.  Now Mr. Thompson says I misrepresented what he said.  Not so.  But this is not the sensible place to hash this out farther — it would be too arcane a discussion, especially for those who haven’t seen it.

But the real answer here, for anyone who is interested, is to see the movie, and judge for himself.  They could hate it so much, as Mr. Thompson does, that they will see certain facts of the movie negatively, even though one can just as easily see them positively — but there is also the strong possibility that a viewer will find the character study as fascinating and cinematically captivating as I have.

It’s worth giving an example of the difference of perspective here, using the new fact that Mr. Thompson brings up (negatively) — the early scene in which Locke changes from going his typical way home in his car, to going towards the hospital where his child is being born — this is a rare moment in the cinema of free choice made evident.  A crucial fact of the storyline and a good example of the quality of the script. 

See for yourself and decide.

[EdLocke]

I think there has been a certain confusion in the discussion of Locke. Those of you who have had the pleasure is listening to Mary Ann Sures’ lectures on art may recall an important point she made. There are two different ways one can respond to art: 1) the art work has personal meaning, e.g., maybe a painting of a tree growing on a hill reminds you of an important childhood event. 2) the art work is analyzed in terms of objective principles including theme, characterization, plot, artistic skill. You can evaluate something as an excellent work or art and not personally like it. And vice versa.

Now as to Locke. In this case I was negative on both counts. I did not personally like the actor, or the whole movie being in car nor, nor the emotional tone, nor his moral failure, nor the story. However, it is ok if you liked it for whatever personal reasons. Not a moral issue.

But let’s look at it from a philosophical perspective. It is very important to hold in mind the WHOLE story, e.g., not just the fact that Locke had conflict and was pursing a value. The actual theme of the movie was that dishonesty destroys values. Now this is a valid theme but I think concretized poorly. Consider that though he saved the project, he lost his job which he loved and was good at, and probably his career–a devastating outcome. He also lost his wife. He might not have if he had gone home and confessed. And all for what? To be present at the birth of his child, whose mother he had a one night stand with. He did not even make it in time. And the baby was fine .He did not have to be there. Locke sacrificed seemingly out of a combination of duty and the woman’s emotion, dropping the whole context of his life and of her own mistake. Locke was a dishonest person who also made poor choices afterwards. To claim he is a hero like Roark is, I believe, preposterous.

[StephenGrossman]

Ed 10,

1) the art work has personal meaning . . . . 2) the art work is analyzed in terms of objective principles including theme, characterization, plot, artistic skill.

Agreed, sense of life is not part of art.

Rand said the theme of Hugo’s 93 is man’s greatness in fighting for his values, not the specific values of the characters. Similarly, Locke, with all his vices, is also presented as realistic, rational, intelligent, self-respecting, knowledgable, alert, purposeful, with high self-esteem, and decisive. Maybe Locke is an altruist, sacrificing work and wife to atone for his “selfish” lust. Still, Locke has those rational traits noted above. Dropping the writer’s context, there is a rational value in contemplating those rational traits. And wondering how they could have been consistent with a rational story.

[Chuck Butler]

I’m closer to Ed Thompson’s appraisal of Locke (the character) than to that of more enthusiastic reviewers. I was not nearly as bothered (as Ed was) by the style of the film and its “gimmick”; but I too found it difficult to sympathize with Locke given that the situation depicted in the film was brought about entirely by his taking actions that were contradictory to, and ultimately threatened, his professed values. Was it not foreseeable that negative consequences might follow from his actions? I believe it was. And though he insists that his original mistake was an uncharacteristic, “one time” lapse in judgment, we see that unresolved issues re his father produce (what I regard as) a second lapse (leaving his work responsibilities at a critical juncture in order to attend an event whose success in no way turned on his presence), as well as a third (barreling down the highway at 80mph while sleep deprived, sick, under the influence of medication, distracted by constant, intense phone conversations, and reading notes from a folder[!], thereby endangering his own life and the lives of the motorists around him). What I observed was a man who, despite possessing certain admirable virtues, fails to hold his value-hierarchy in focus and consequently makes a series of irrational choices.

That said, I can understand why Objectivists would find certain aspects of the Locke character appealing. We are so desperate for art and entertainment that reflects our values and sense of life that any hint of these strikes us as a ray of sunlight breaking through an otherwise bleak, overcast sky (see my review of Whiplash). And in this case, where the similarities to Howard Roark are so apparent, it’s hard to criticize those with whom Locke’s positive qualities resonated.

There are many films and characters that, while philosophically inconsistent or even objectionable, have qualities that one can admire. For me, however, Locke is too suffocating (taking place entirely inside a car) and frustrating (depicting choices that are often inconsistent with, and indeed undermine, values) to make my list of films that, despite their flaws, I can enjoy watching more than once. Your mileage, as they say, may vary if you are more able than I to overlook the difficulties mentioned above.

[Jim Hanson]

I enjoyed the movie, but when I read the posts from Ed Locke & others who didn’t, I realized it was the kind of story HB once called (if memory serves) ‘from the gutter to the sidewalk’. 

The most important action of the entire movie occurs in the first couple minutes, when Locke is waiting at a stoplight. His turnsignal is blinking to the left, which–in retrospect–means, toward home, comfort and the status quo. But after light changes he jerks alert and switches it to the right–meaning, in retrospect, toward “doing the right thing” with respect to his prior behavior. 

Everything else follows from that one decision.

[StephenGrossman]

Chuck 12, 

We are so desperate for art and entertainment that reflects our values and sense of life that any hint of these strikes us as a ray of sunlight breaking through an otherwise bleak, overcast sky

Exactly! 

I recently watched “Daddy Long Legs” (Fred Astaire, Leslie Caron, 1955) and “You’ve Got Mail” (Meg Ryan ,Tom Hanks ,1998), both good romantic movies. “Daddy” is consistently romantic, sophisticated and not consistently realistic. “Mail” is inconsistently romantic, pop culturish (sorry!), even childish, and, I guess, consistently realistic. I found myself annoyed at “Mail’s” inconsistent romanticism. I could overlook the unrealistic parts of “Daddy” because the sophisticated romanticism was consistently maintained throughout. I thought I previously understood Rand’s esthetics but, the more experience and reflection that I have, the more I recognize just how profound she was. Man needs romantic art. 

[EdThompson]

Chuck Butler wrote (#12): “I’m closer to Ed Thompson’s appraisal of Locke (the character) . . .”

To clarify, I commented on the script and not on the character. My criticism lies in the illogic and contradictory nature of the story line.

Furthermore, I was not bothered by the film’s gimmick (which does not take scare quotes). I was bothered by the illogic and contradictory nature of the story line—which made hash of an otherwise clever device.

Note that I complimented the gimmick thus: “It is an ingenious idea, I suppose. But it does not work for the illogic of events.” The term “gimmick” is neutral in the same vein as “selfish.” Its use is context dependent. Note also that Ayn Rand used the term “gimmick” favorably to describe her having used members of the audience as jurors in Night of January 16th.

Please excuse my unabashed appeal to authority. 

[Chuck Butler]

Sorry, Ed; I did not mean to misrepresent or mischaracterize your remarks.

My purpose in specifying your “appraisal of Locke (the character)” was to agree with your criticisms of Locke’s actions (the plot) without subscribing to your criticisms of the style of the film (post 5, first paragraph). I should have been more careful to distinguish character from plot; however, I suspect that readers of this thread will have little difficulty recognizing the points of agreement between us, despite my imprecision.

It was not my intention to place gimmick in scare quotes; I placed it in quotes because I was quoting you directly (post 5). I’m sorry if that, and/or my failure to precisely differentiate between the gimmick and your criticisms of how it was executed in this film, was misleading. Again, I don’t think most readers would be confused, but if they were, and have read this far into the thread, they should now be clear about what both of us intended. 

[EdThompson]

No apology required Chuck (#16)–we are both simply making clarifications and your post contributed favorably.

[JonathanCargan]

I ended up watching Locke to see what my own reaction to the film would be.  I went in with an open mind but ended up stopping at about the midway point. 

First, I do think that the film is technically competent.  Making an interesting movie about a man driving in a car and talking on the phone is a challenge.  So, I did enjoy that aspect of the movie.  However, I don’t think the contrivance was a lone man driving in a car, the contrivance of the film is that a man who is so rational and competent would ever get himself into the situation that the character does.   That’s not to say that a rational man doesn’t make mistakes or face trying circumstances, but he doesn’t make mistakes of the sort that Locke does or make a decision to sacrifice his entire life and all his core values for a woman who by his own admission he doesn’t value.   That character doesn’t belong in that situation.  Yes, his calm in the face of disaster and command of the situation is impressive, but this man would never have gotten into this fix in the first place or choose to solve it the way he does.

I’d like to propose an alternative film that actually would have taken advantage of the character and the situation.

Locke is a man who rose from abject poverty to become the most successful person in his profession.   He rose, in part, by taking risks from which others fled but which he knows to be rational.  This concrete pour is part of the largest risk that he has ever taken, one that, if successful, will catapult his company into the stratosphere. 

Because of the job’s importance, he has been neglecting his home life, which has led to strife with his spouse and children.  The night before the pour, Locke will spend the night on the construction site, aided in last minute efforts by his fetching, young, and very female assistant.  Both Locke and the assistant are mutually attracted, and both secretly dread the night alone. 

Just before Locke begins a final inspection of the site, his cell phone rings.  It is an emergency room reporting that his wife has been in a terrible accident.  He will have just enough time to reach the hospital before she goes into surgery if he leaves immediately.  Locke hesitates, torn between two values.  He flashes back to his life with his wife, he thinks of their children, and knows that he can make only one decision.  He explains the situation to his assistant and drives off at high speed. 

While he’s driving, he is on the phone with the assistant, talking her through the final checks needed for the pour.  Unbeknownst to him, a rival, who hates Locke’s success, conspires with a bureaucrat who also hates Locke to get the bureaucrat to demand a last minute inspection.  Locke has been through the inspection many times, but his assistant hasn’t.   Now, he must talk the assistant through the inspection while driving to reach the hospital in time. 

Suddenly, the car breaks down on the highway.  Locke will be stranded.  He immediately uses his phone to secure alternative transportation.  But there is another problem.  He was about to plug his phone in to charge at the office and had plugged it in in the car, but the battery is still starting to run low.  He secures another ride and makes it to the hospital, all the while talking his assistant through the inspection, as the battery indicator turns critically low. 

He reaches the hospital with only moments to spare, finds his wife, and reaffirms his love for her.  In the surgery waiting room, he continues to talk his assistant through the inspection while charging his phone (of course, he remembered to take the cable from the car).  His wife exits surgery successfully, he assures she is stable, and he rushes back to the construction site.

He arrives in time to get a grudging approval form the bureaucrat.  As the sun rises, he and the assistant sit in the office together.  She tells him that she is overjoyed that his wife is recovering.  In her own mind, she reaffirms her determination to find her own Locke.  Fade out.

No sacrifice.  No emotional decisions.  No contradictions.

[StephenGrossman]

Jon 18, 

his calm in the face of disaster and command of the situation is impressive, but this man would never have gotten into this fix in the first place or choose to solve it the way he does.

Agreed.

Your story is better than “Locke.” Call Tom Hardy’s agent.

Perhaps “Locke’s” theme is stoicism, a Hemingwayesque grace under pressure. The world is falling apart and virtue is calm and competence in the face of disaster. 

[JohnPattillo]

I think this movie has elicited such opposing estimates because the writer-director, Steven Knight, has a pitiful clash between his explicit values and his sense of life, or perhaps between two implicit values.

By everything presented explicitly within the movie, the character of Locke should be admirable, with the exception of his one crucial moral error.   On this, I side with Cynthia and John Gillis’ estimate of Locke.  However, I would identify the theme not as honesty but rather as taking full responsibility for one’s choices and actions.  I absolutely agree that Locke recalls the kind of efficaciousness displayed by Charlie Bannon in Calumet K.

From this standpoint, Locke is romantic art because from beginning to end the character, Locke, makes and pursues value choices.  And he is clear about those choices.  He is not a pawn or puppet or plaything of fate.  He is trapped inside his car, as he is trapped in the reality he has created, and for 80 minutes we are trapped with him.  Yet, he faces all of that reality, accepts it, and deals with it.  Existentially, he pushes the car along the motorway, aiming at his goal/destination.  The flashing lights, signs, etc. reinforce the sense of motion toward a goal.

No matter what criticisms anyone has about the movie, it is utterly uncommon to see such a character in modern movies.

And yet, if you asked a parent, “Would you tell your child to emulate Locke, the actual man, to be like Locke,” I doubt that many rational parents would say “Yes,” (leaving aside his one sin).  And this is because Knight has not done any of the things that would make Locke appear as a role model.  The character does everything to manifest the theme of taking responsibility, but the director (Knight) misses every opportunity to photograph him, to frame him, to show him as admirable.  If you know movies from the earlier era (say, pre-1960, or pre-1950, or pre-1940) you know that directors knew how to show the hero displaying heroic inner character by a facial expression, a glance, a gesture, a physical presence, and by giving the hero a script with lines that would show us why he was admirable.  Knight allows us to see no such things.

Modern movie-makers pledge allegiance to anti-heroism, to feet of clay, etc., or at the very least to abstaining from allowing heroism to shine forth.  It is not quite bootleg romanticism.  I think it is thoroughly repressed romanticism.

[JulianHassan]

I never heard of this movie. Where did you see it?

[Chuck Butler]

Available from Netflix (DVD only, though).

[TonyWhite]

I finally saw the movie Locke. Despite its virtues, I didn’t like it on the whole.

As a movie, I thought it was well done and interesting. It grabbed my attention. The main character was presented as a very competent man with an exceptional depth of character. That was very positive.

But such a man would have never gotten in the situation in the first place. Yes, a man cheating on his wife on a business trip is commonplace. But this was not a commonplace man. He would not have done that, and that breaks the entire movie.

So this movie is a lot like Brooklyn – sets up a very positive character, only to have them engage in horrible behavior that the character in question wouldn’t do. 

Specifically, in both movies, the horrible thing the characters do is to to cheat on their spouses, with very little provocation, which is something that good people don’t do – despite the fact this culture is oh so eager to forgive them for it.

[DouglasMayfield]

I agree with Mr. White’s analysis of both movies, particularly his point that the protagonists in both films ‘betray themselves’ by taking actions toward the ends of the movies which are thoroughly inconsistent with their characters as developed earlier. I found the self betrayal by the protagonist of ‘Brooklyn’ to be less disturbing because she was much younger, in a new country, etc. and because she eventually takes appropriate action (although the stimulus for that action struck me as awkward and ill chosen). In my view, the film makers were seeking provocative conflict but failed to lay the proper groundwork for it because they unquestioningly accept commonplace values and because, as Mr. White points out, ‘…this culture is oh so eager to forgive…’. 

[AmeshAdalja]

I recently watched Locke and found it’s exclusive automobile setting and phone call dialogue to work. As others have commented, the theme is about how a breech in honesty and integrity destroys all values through its reverberations.

The theme is made explicit in a conversation Locke has regarding concrete in which he insists on having a specific type of concrete because even the minutest impurity will lead to long-term problems in the structure it is being used to build. I can see how this type of dialogue is reminiscent of Howard Roark and I wonder  

The volition and focus on values places the film in the genre of Romanticism.

It is definitely worth watching.

[AdamReed]

Re: Amesh Adalja’s post 111408 of 27/02/16 at 10:44am

The volition and focus on values places the film in the genre of Romanticism.

It does – but he theme is Original Sin. Same with recent films about Jobs and Zuckerberg. The message is that, now that we have Heroes again, they are Human and therefore inherently evil (only God is perfect, and so on.) The doctrine of Human imperfection and sin is the anti-intellectual counterpart of envy.

[Author]

Posts