Green

Soylent Green

Green Room

Greetings, dear reader. Whether you’re a casual, habitual, or recreational reader of this blog, you might have caught on to the fact that I appreciate stoner cinema and stoner culture. Marijuana is is illegal in my state but that won’t stop me from… appreciating and partaking in a stoner movie or two. Last year my marijuana movie selections introduced me to an iconic franchise and a bizarrely iconic musical, and before that I acquainted myself with two famously frenetic weed movies. But because I’ve seen nearly every good stoner movie (and some bad ones), this 420 I thought I’d change things up and celebrate with a double feature of movies with green in the title. Yes, first there was red, then blue, and now, in honor of Earth Month, and one of the most popular plants on this earth, we’re going green. Green symbolizes and evokes many things: nature, money, hopefulness, security, tranquility, renewal, relaxation, even rebirth and transformation. Unfortunately, there was nothing relaxing nor tranquil about either of tonight’s movies so if you’re having a green day too and wanna maintain positive vibes, it may be best to watch these films another time. Our first green movie comes from 1973 and is based off of Harry Harrison’s sci-fi novel Make Room! Make Room!, and that’s the ecological dystopian thriller known as Soylent Green. Soylent Green opens with the type of oddly-spliced, effectively-disorienting montage that could only come out of the 1970s, where we see an eternity of environmental and human history displayed. But at a certain point, we see cars take up every inch of the road, towering buildings are stacked next to piles of garbage, hundreds upon thousands of human beings are bursting into the world and spilling out on to every surface. When the first Earth Day took place on April 22nd, 1970, citizens of Earth were concerned about air pollution, access to clean water, and in general, people were becoming aware of the human and corporate impact upon the environment. Much of humanity shares these same concerns to this day—as last week’s viewing of First Reformed reminded me—but in addition to these environmental anxieties there was also the perceived threat of overpopulation, and the reality of an terrifyingly high unemployment rate. So when Soylent Green began by playing directly into the reasonable paranoia of 1970s Americans, I knew that this film could only get more bleak from there. We’re suddenly transported to New York City in the year 2022, a then-distant future full of desperate, sweating masses of unemployed, underfed people. In this version of 2022 there is a miserable heat wave worsening daily, and with all of the earth’s natural resources tapped out, real, organic food has all but disappeared. Pollution, starvation, tainted water, climate change—these are all real problems that existed then, and are only worse now, but Soylent Green imagines a world that has deteriorated a little more swiftly, with stomach-churning results. Here, the only alternative to food are “soylent” products made from “high-energy vegetable concentrate” which appear in the form of small, flat, cracker-sized tabs of inedible shades of green. On Tuesdays, soylent green is distributed to droves of starving people in the streets, where policemen like our protagonist Robert Thorn (Charlton Heston) wait to collect anyone attempting to start a riot. Thorn lives with an elderly former professor Sol Roth (Edward G. Robinson), one of the few people alive who still remembers a prosperous planet earth that had trees and animal life and food that tasted good. Soylent Green follows Thorn and Sol as they investigate a bizarre murder case linked to a conspiracy to uncover the truth behind the Soylent Company, and the products they’re feeding to humanity—but this film is much more than that. It’s an analysis and commentary on the state of the world, at that time, and in perpetuity. While Soylent Green may exaggerate certain things, its depiction of the Earth has never been too far off from the truth. I suppose most men do not refer to their female partners as “furniture” as they do in this film, but plenty of women face this level of disrespect and abuse on a personal and cultural level. I suppose the police do not scoop up rioters with giant, spiky machinery, but they still shoot first and ask questions later. I suppose people are not literally piled on top of one another in every stairwell, but there is a significantly dire and controllable housing and homelessness crisis in this country. And yes, I suppose we’re not forced to eat fake food (yet), but access to healthy, organic food has never been more challenging, or more expensive. I say all of this not to put you in a bad mood, but to say that I was blown away by this film’s honest and brutal depiction of what the world could be and already is. It didn’t make 2022 seem even mildly exciting or impressively technologically advanced, it spared no gloomy detail for its fictional—but plausible—story. But as tragic as the premise of Soylent Green and its message was, it also had just an ounce of hope to it—by virtue of it existing at all. People cared back then, and people care now, but as Soylent Green so saliently pointed out, the apocalypse isn’t just man-made, but corporately-sponsored. This movie was filmed in old, mostly defunct sections of an MGM soundstage, which added to its decrepitness. The effects and pacing of this film made me wish for a remake—something I almost never do—but so many of the details of this film are too well-thought out to replace. The bubble furniture and space games inside the chic and clean apartments of the ultra rich, juxtaposed against everyone sleeping on top of one another in the streets and shelters was a sight to see. And the dizzying greenish tint placed upon each frame of outside footage seemed obvious but appropriate. All of it just made sense, apart from its cop protagonist giving a shit, and it was incredibly ahead of its time. The same could be said for the next green movie that I watched: Jeremy Saulnier’s 2015 film Green Room. This is yet another bleak, grimy movie full of sweaty people in dire straits, however, here there is a cathartic, even hopeful resolution. Green Room was one of A24’s very first films, and it makes me long for an era of indie filmmaking that once excited me. It follows a D.C. punk band called the Ain’t Rights as they make their way through the Pacific Northwest on tour, that is quickly derailed when they witness a murder at a venue ran by and for neo-nazi skinheads. The band consists of Pat (Anton Yelchin RIP I will love you forever), Sam (Alia Shawkat), Reece (Joe Cole), and Tiger (Callum Turner), who are all fairly badass but understandably frightened by this situation. The band holes up in the green room and hatches an escape plan while the owner, Darcy (Patrick Stewart), rallies his disgusting army of ready-and-willing neo-nazis. From the moment that the Ain’t Rights pull up to this backwoods venue, the air is thick and the tension is palpable. There is not a moment that isn’t suspenseful from this point on. I felt myself holding my breath at certain instances, and gasping at others. Green Room is chilling, thrilling, and even more terrifying conceptually now than it was then. Since this film premiered, threats and attacks from underground militias of angry, anti-Semitic, ultraconservative people have only become more common. Green Room introduces us to some highly-motivated, highly-armed individuals who are scary enough on screen, but become even more horrifying when you remember just how real these people are. I could link you to several articles about how antisemitism is on the rise once again, but there are just simply too many instances to share. What is so enjoyable and cathartic about this movie, though, is its insistence upon fighting back. I’m not educated enough or cool enough to provide you with the anti-Nazi history of punk music, but Green Room successfully detailed the ongoing struggle between punk rockers, and the white supremacists who listen to their music. To quote Henry Rollins of Black Flag: “Some of the punk rockers hit back, so that became a thing that went on for years. It was a mix of testosterone, Reagan, ignorance, anger, and youth. Some of these guys were just lightweight followers and would only attack in groups, but a lot of them were genuine bad guys who were into Clockwork Orange–scale violence. It was no joke.” The punk movement has always been firmly anti-establishment and anti-fascist, and Green Room echoed this sentiment, as took every chance it could to inflict pain upon nazis. This movie is only about 90 minutes, but it felt much longer to watch—and I didn’t really mind. I felt every moment of hesitation and discomfort and anxiety because this film builds its suspense so well. It put me in a trance then left me in a daze where I felt ultimately hopeful, but undeniably sad for the loss of Anton Yelchin. His performance here, like all others, was just so raw, real, and powerful. What little light there is in this dark movie seemed to follow him wherever he went. His chemistry with Imogen Poots (Fright Night forever) was sweet, and his will to fight was constantly inspiring. I loved the way Green Room was shot, how its conflict was realistically drawn out, and how its resolution was satisfyingly bloody. While seeing Anton Yelchin made me sad, and hearing Patrick Stewart say “y’all” was disturbing, I thoroughly thoroughly enjoyed Green Room. I know these may not be the most ideal 420 movies, but they’ll certainly wake your high ass up! But if Soylent Green makes you lose your munchies, I understand, and I’m sorry. Happy 420, happy Earth Month, and nazi punks—fuck off!