What’s up guys?
Jared again.
Today, we’re finally addressing a movie that has plagued our comments section for what
seems like forever: Donnie Darko.
Over the years, we’ve tried to tackle this head-scratching movie from almost every angle.
We wrote a full script for Earthling Cinema and another for a Philosophy Of video – but
nothing ever panned out.
Donnie Darko became a Sisyphean task; we did the research, wrote the scripts, to only delete
it all and move on.
But we couldn’t just give up.
This movie is a cultural phenomenon.
One might even say it inspired a whole generation to appreciate independent film.
So it behooves us to ask: why did this film resonate on the level that it did?
Well, with the help of our new format – Half-Baked – we think we can finally lay this movie
to rest.
So join me on this slightly confusing, literal journey through time in this Wisecrack Half-Baked
Edition: Donnie Darko.
And yeah, the film’s almost 20 years old, but hey, spoilers ahead.
First, a quick recap.
Donnie Darko takes place in 1988, Middlesex Virginia – a quiet upper class suburb.
Donnie, a high schooler, is woken up by a mysterious voice in the middle of the night.
He wanders halfway across town and learns this:
“28 days.
6 Hours.
42 minutes.
12 seconds.
That…is when the world will end.”
More worrying still, when Donnie stumbles back home the next morning, he finds it ruined
– a jet engine crashed right through his bedroom.
Donnie then spends the rest of the month stumbling through some weird shit that culminates in
him saving the world by going back in time.
He does this by, well, uh, we don’t know.
But it involves listening to this terrifying, imaginary bunny, Frank.
“Did Frank tell you to do these things?”
“I have to obey him.
He saved my life.
I have to obey him or I’ll be left all alone.”
In following this supposed master plan, Donnie does some crazy stuff.
He floods his school, burns down a pedophile’s house, and takes his girlfriend, Gretchen,
on a Halloween date to an old woman’s cellardoor.
But shit goes down and Gretchen is accidentally run over, leaving Donnie to face doomsday
alone.
When the fated day arrives, a wormhole opens up over Donnie’s house, and he watches from
afar with Gretchen’s body.
What happens next, well, time travel, I guess.
Donnie wakes up in his bed 28 days earlier, laughing because he’s succeeded in going
back in time.
In doing so, he’s saved Gretchen from her automobile-fated death, and his family – who
was on a plane going through that wormhole.
Then, right on cue, the jet engine comes crashing down and kills Donnie.
Meanwhile, the rest of our cast is left feeling oddly connected, as if somehow vaguely aware
of Donnie’s sacrifice.
Roll credits.
Now if the details left you scratching your head, don’t worry, you’re not alone.
Donnie Darko is such a rapid fire succession of ideas and themes that it can be a bit difficult
to analyze.
Now is there a grand philosophy for the film?
Well here’s what we came up with.
Idea One: Worldlines and Graham Greene.
Early on, the film draws parallels between Donnie’s journey and that of The Destructors,
a short story by Graham Greene taught in Donnie’s English class.
In the story, a gang of London street kids set their hearts on destroying an old man’s
home down to the very last brick.
They start by dismantling the interior, then destroy all the valuables and flood the foundation,
before finally they bring the walls themselves down.
Surprisingly, though, the boys aren’t doing this out of hate.
As Donny explains:
“Well, they say it right when they flood the house and tear it to shreds that like
destruction is a form of creation, so the fact that they burn the money is ironic.
They just want to see what happens when they tear the world apart.
They want to change things.”
This idea of destruction as an act of creation is critical to understanding Donnie’s journey.
After all, Frank’s master plan pretty much amounts to a bunch of senseless destruction.
When it’s all said and done,Donnie floods the school, burns down a home, and gets at
least two people killed.
But the film also heavily implies that everything Donnie did was absolutely necessary to go
back in time and save the world.
Now it’s not exactly clear how- as in the new universe the Paedophile is still at large-
but the director’s cut leads us believe he was using destruction to create the conditions
upon which the wormhole would appear.
It does this first by telling us of T., the short story’s protagonist whose plan seemed
fated.
“It was as though this plan had been with him throughout his life, pondered through
the seasons, now in his fifteenth year crystalized with the pain of puberty.”
Then it draws a parallel between T and Donnie by showing us this surreal moment of the film.
“I’m gonna get a beer.”
Yeah, as Donnie later figures out with the help of his science teacher, these weird bubble-path-things
were actually a visualization of the future.
“Well each vessel travels along a vector of spacetime along its center of gravity.”
“Like a spear.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Like a spear that comes out of your chest.”
“Um, sure.”
And this is where the film draws on actual science These “spears” as Donnie calls
them are a real concept in physics.
As physicist-philosopher combo David Deutsch and Michael Lockwood explain: “Your life
forms a kind of four-dimensional ‘worm’ in space-time: the tip of the worm’s tail
corresponds to the event of your birth, and the front of its head to the event of your
death.
An object, seen at any one instant, is a three-dimensional cross-section of this long, thin, intricately
curved worm.
The line along which the worm lies… is called the objects worldline.”
By being able to see his worldline – meaning his own position in the past, present, and
future – Donnie knows what he needs to do to make the time machine.
Of course, you might be wondering if Donnie being able to see his future is a logical
contradiction.
After all, if the future is written, doesn’t that mean we have no free will?
And props to the film, it gives a shout out to this idea:
“Well you’re contradicting yourself, Donny.
If we were able to see our destinies manifest themselves visually, then we’d be given
the choice to betray our chosen destinies.
And the mere fact that this choice exists would make all pre-formed destiny come to
an end.”
Now, it’s hard to say that Donnie is contradicting himself when he says that knowing the future
is compatible with free will.
As philosopher David Lewis explains in his groundbreaking paper, The Paradoxes of Time
Travel, our definition of possible changes based on how complete our set of facts is.
For example, not knowing my future self, it’s “possible” that I could mount a bid for
president in 2024.
But let’s say I did know the future and that Bauer 2024 never happened because I’d
rather watch movies and play Red Dead.
Well, knowing this fact about my future, I would be right in saying that it’s not possible
I’d run for president.
Now importantly for Lewis, though, my knowledge of the future wouldn’t limit my free will
in the present.
Just because I know I’m more likely to play video games than run for president, doesn’t
mean the universe would cosmically conspire to stop me if I tried.
There won’t be glitches in the Matrix if I try to mount a bid.
In the end, it’s not that future me couldn’t run for president; it’s that present me
knows that future me doesn’t run for president because there’s just too many legendary
animals to find.
All that being said though, does the film explore the conflict between free will, time
travel and foreknowledge?
Well not really, and that’s why we couldn’t really make a definitive thesis in our prior
videos.
Not really, and that’s why we couldn’t really make a definitive thesis in our prior
attempts.
Honestly, it feels like the film is all the building blocks for some super deep philosophical
insights, but never quite puts them together.
Instead, Donnie talks about changing his worldline like this:
“Not if you travel in God’s channel.”
“God’s Channel.”
While there are a boatload of God fearing scientists, by citing a transcendental all
powerful being in the argument, the film changes the topic from the physical to the mystical.
And sure, on the surface this comment might not make a whole lot of sense,
but, the film is actually tapping into something much deeper here.
Idea Two: Quantum Physics and the Director’s Cut.
Now “God” might seem like a weird idea for Donnie to toss around, especially considering
that much of the film is a not so subtle critique of upper-class conservatism and their sanctimony.
“Nobody cares about responsibility, morality, family values.”
But that all depends on which version you watched: the theatrical release or the director’s
cut.
While the theatrical cut is a good deal shorter, it also omits for better or worse a lot of
writer/director Richard Kelly’s worldbuilding.
Particularly, in the Director’s Cut, you get excerpts like this from Roberta Sparrow’s
book, The Philosophy of Time Travel.
Yeah, so to summarize, Donnie’s story takes place in a “tangent universe” which is
about to blow –that is unless Donnie stops it in 28 days.
In setting up Donnie as the Messiah – or “Living Receiver” in the film’s lingo
the movie gives him some weird powers and some even weirder eyes.
Donnie then saves the world, returning the tangent universe to the primary one.
While that might all seem like some random stuff that Kelly just made up,
he’s actually drawing on some pretty deep ideas here.
Afterall, Donnie isn’t just time traveling – he’s time traveling across parallel
universes.
Which, based on your choice of philosophers and physicists, is possible.
Physicist Hugh Everett, for example, was famous for coining the idea of a multiverse as a
way to explain wave function collapse in quantum mechanics.
In quantum mechanics, before being observed, a particle exists in a superposition of states.
For instance, a photon acts like both a particle and a wave until you try to look at it and
then it makes up its mind about being either one.
The act of observance somehow forces this indefinite state to collapse into a definite
state.
How?
Well, there’s no real answer right now, but Everett theorized that these collapses
don’t really exist at all.
Instead, when we observe a particle, we’re observing a symptom of the universe splitting,
as both states are realized in different realities.
What this means for us is that there are nearly infinite branching realities running alongside
our own.
So does that mean a universe could exist that was cosmically doomed, such as Kelly’s tangent
universe?
Well likely not.
Unlike media’s newfound obsession with multiverses.
“This fry, is your universe, soggy it’s weird it’s gross.
And this delicious normal fry is my universe.”
Everett’s theory of the multiple worlds doesn’t invalidate the basic laws of physics.
Parallel universes aren’t going to collapse into each other.
But that doesn’t necessarily rule out Donnie’s time travel adventures.
“How is that possible?
How is time travel possible?”
Now, I know that might sound weird to say that time travel is possible, but it lies
within the film’s very specific depiction of the idea.
Maybe some of you have heard of the grandfather paradox, which states that backwards time
travel is impossible because than you could kill your grandfather and then you wouldn’t
exist so then who goes back and kills your grandfather?.
By invoking parallel universes, Kelly completely side steps this logical problem.
Killing your grandfather would just make a parallel universe where you don’t exist.
Like the grandfather paradox, how could a bullet-holed Frank be able to warn Donnie
about the world ending if Donnie went back in time and saved it?
Well, if Frank was from a parallel universe, then it all checks out.
And if you think we’re reaching here to explain away some inconsistencies in the film,
I don’t think so.
Remember those wordlines we talked about earlier?
Physicist Kurt Gödel proved that a universe could hypothetically exist in which these
wordlines were actually closed loops.
That means by going forward in time, you could end up in your own past.
Kind of like your future self lapping your past self in Mario Kart.
And while our particular universe is not constructed this way, various physicists have proposed
how these “closed timelike curves” could theoretically exist, like physicist John Wheeler
and Kip Thorne, who believe these mariokart track timelines could be generated using wormholes.
And again, Donnie Darko does throw this idea out there.
“According to Hawking, a wormhole may be able to provide a shortcut to jumping between
two distant regions of spacetime.”
But while the movie alludes to all these weighty ideas, in the end, everything comes back to
Kelly’s weird mythos.
Sure, Donnie and his teacher talk about science but then Kelly explains everything away like
this in the Director’s Cut: “Water and Metal are the key elements of Time Travel.
Water is the barrier element for the construction of Time Portals used as gateways between Universes
at the Tangent Vortex.”
So, no science, no real discernible philosophy or belief system, just Kelly’s unique brand
of mysticism.
And yeah, certainly not enough to really flesh a Philosophy Of video.
Idea 3:The Burbs.
So here’s the big question, Wisecrack: Why is this film such a cultural milestone?
Why do people point to it as a really profound movie?
While I can point to a lot of things, like the great cast and the amazing soundtrack,
for me, it comes down to how well Donnie Darko functions as an exploration of upper middle-class
angst.
From its depiction of teenage sexual frustration, to baby boomers struggling to understand their
child’s mental illness, the film is an incredible exploration of growing up privileged in the
late 80s.
If any of you have ever lived in suburbia, you know how frustratingly appearance-focused
it can be.
Take Mrs. Farmer, for example, a parent and teacher who’s obsessed with her own moral
crusade.
“I want to know why this filth is being taught to our children.”
Throughout the film, we see Mrs. Farmer constantly judge and belittle others for not subscribing
to Jim Cunningham’s BS self-help advice, especially Donnie’s more liberal mother.
“Our paths through life must be righteous.
I urge you to go home and look in the mirror and pray that your son doesn’t succumb to
the path of fear.”
Of course, Mrs. Farmer is never concerned about being truly moral.
Despite her idol, Jim Cunningham, becoming a convicted pedophile, Mrs. Farmer still holds
onto her steadfast belief in his moral system.
Proving how righteous she really is, Mrs. Farmer insists on going to Jim’s trial instead
of taking her own daughter to a televised talent show
– and then shamelessly guilt trips Donnie’s mother, Rose.
“Rose, I have to appear at his arraignment tomorrow morning, and as you know, the girls
are scheduled to leave for Los Angeles in the morning.
And as their coach, I was the obvious choice to chaperone them on their trip, but-”
“But now, you can’t go.”
And this is where the film really succeeds.
It shows us in stunning detail all the annoying trappings of middle-class suburban life, and
then gives us a voice in Donnie to speak out against it.
After all, there’s something viscerally relatable to Donnie standing up to all the
ridiculous expectations placed on him.
We’ve all wanted to stand up and say no, like Donnie did when he rejected Jim Cunningham’s
ridiculous moral system.
“You can’t just lump everything into these two categories then deny everything else.”
And to that end, Donnie’s acts of rebellion and even destruction feel kind of acceptable.
He floods the school, sure, but that’s the same school that fired his favorite teacher
for daring them to think for themselves.
“I don’t think you have a clue of what it’s like trying to communicate with these
kids.
We are losing them to apathy – to this prescribed nonsense.”
He burns down a house, but hey, the owner was our aforementioned pederast.
“Eight year olds dude.”
In the end, these acts of rebellion function as a form of escapism to us, the viewers.
As Freud once paraphrased fellow psychologist Theodor Fontane, people “cannot subsist
on the scanty satisfaction they can extort from reality.
We simply cannot do without auxiliary constructions”.
In other words, fantasy and wish fulfillment are necessary to keep us happy and functioning.
And to that end, Richard Kelly’s weird world building complete with super powers and time
travel acts as the ultimate form of escapism from suburban monotony
What if, like Donnie, you actually were the center of a tangent universe and it was up
to you to save it?
For me, those thoughts would at least make all the white picket fences a little bit more
bearable.
So what do you think, Wisecrack?
Did we spend the last few years missing an obvious angle Donnie Darko?
Is there a more philosophically deep and consistent thesis that we’ve missed?
Or are you in our camp, and think that what makes the film great is how it channels our
middle-class, edgelord angst?
Drop us a line and let us know in the comments section.
And if you want to build your own website for free, check out wix.com/wisecrack.
Peace guys.