Nothing busts canons quite like living in interesting times. In our ongoing Inflection Point series, we look back at the films that have taken on new relevance due to our ongoing cultural and political upheaval. Some beloved, some undiscovered, these titles deserve newfound consideration as film criticism evolves to meet the moment
Even when placed alongside the other films that have taken on new relevance and poignancy in These Troubled Times, the prescience of James McTeigue’s “V for Vendetta” is sort of astonishing. Here is a film that concerns a totalitarian government, a deadly virus outbreak, widespread propaganda, mass protests, citywide curfews, and a masked opposition movement that those in power attempt to classify and target as terrorists. It lives in a world where xenophobic demagogues both spin for the government and influence it; we are even explicitly told that the United States is so desperate for medical supplies, we’re offering up cops unprompted.
The difference, however, between either chuckling or gasping at the similarities between this film and America circa 2020, as opposed to something like “Contagion” or “Take Shelter,” is that those films are dramas, flights of fancy borne of social realism. “V for Vendetta” is dystopian science fiction – and that’s what we’re living through right now.
The proper narrative concerns Evey (Natalie Portman), an employee of the state run British Television Network (BTN), mild-mannered in nature though the daughter of activists. Out one night past curfew, she’s accosted by a gang of federal agents with sinister intentions – but is saved by V (Hugo Weaving), who sports a Guy Fawkes mask and spouts anarchist rhetoric. He invites her along to witness an act of civic and political destruction: the explosion of The Old Bailey, which he’s rigged up with homemade bombs and fireworks.
Not long after, V takes over the BTN’s airwaves with a message for the British citizenry: “War, terror, disease… fear got the best of you.” He states his goal of blowing up Parliament in exactly one year (on the next Guy Fawkes Night); “If you see what I see,” he says, “if you feel what I feel, and you would seek as I seek, then I would ask you to stand beside me.” But V keeps busy until then, killing those involved in a mysterious action at the “Larkhill Detention Facility,” leaving roses on their bodies like a demented Bachelor.
Through the investigation by Chief Inspector Finch (the invaluable Stephen Rea), the story of what happened at Larkhill becomes clear: government officials created and tested a deadly virus, unleashing it onto the population via infections at a school, a tube station, and a water treatment plant. (“80,000 DEAD” is seen as a shock newspaper headline. How quaint!) “Fueled by the media, fear and panic spread quickly, fracturing and dividing the country,” V explains. (Hmmm.) And into that panic and fear stepped the High Chancellor (John Hurt), who exploited both; “Imagine a virus, the most terrifying virus you can, and then imagine that you alone have the cure.” And thus dictators are empowered, and the pockets of the rich are properly lined. Science fiction, folks.
The casting of Hurt in that role cannot be accidental; after all, he starred in Michael Radford’s film adaptation of George Orwell’s “1984,” and that novel’s influence is all over this film, and the Alan Moore graphic novel that inspired it. (“I remember how the meaning of words began to change. How unfamiliar words like ‘collateral’ and ‘rendition’ became frightening.”) In fact, McTeague fills his cast with ace character actors; aside from Hurt and Rea, we also have memorable turns from Stephen Fry, Rupert Graves, Tim Pigott-Smith, Sinéad Cusack, and, in the title role, the incomparable Weaving.
Some of the film hasn’t aged as well; its sexual politics are fucked, with the Evey/V relationship taking on a “Beauty and the Beast” style kidnapping-but-romantic edge, culminating in V faking her imprisonment and literally torturing her for days, in disguise, to see if she would sell him out. (“You said you wanted to live without fear. I wish there had been an easier away.”) Portman does her best to sell the character’s moments of objection, but she ends up acquiescing every time, with victim-style apologies like, “I understand what you did for me, and I want you to know I am grateful.” That dynamic is unquestionably the film’s weakness, giving V the air, in his rambling monologues and provocative questioning, of a college boyfriend who took one entry-level political science course and read half a Noam Chomsky book, and can’t shut the fuck up about them.
When “V for Vendetta” was released in 2006, its big draw was The Wachowskis, who wrote the screenplay adaptation; Warner Brothers did its best to market it as an unofficial “Matrix” movie (and, to be fair, it works on that level, with inventive knife and swordplay displacing that film’s gun-fu.) It was a critical and financial success at the time, but its cultural currency has gradually grown, thanks in no small part to real world events – and not just the appropriation of the Guy Fawkes mask by members of Anonymous.
Moore’s graphic novel was written as a response to the shifting tides of Thatcher-era Great Britain, and a warning of where those socio-political inclinations could lead. Now, it’s clear that they lead to Trump, whose “America first” incantation recalls the “England prevails” of the film’s High Chancellor and his cabal, not to mention his inclination to eagerly brand anyone who opposes his administration a terrorist.
The summer 2020 vibes get especially heavy in the film’s climax, in which “the whole city’s gone mad,” and protests escalate into riots, clashes, and violence. “There’s so much chaos, someone will do something stupid,” predicts Chief Inspector Finch. “ And when they do, things will turn nasty.” We’ve seen plenty of stupid this summer, from frothing lawmakers and brutal cops, and by the time the film’s images of mass protest arrive on screen – militarized police, with batons and tear gas in the air – we might as well be watching CNN.
“The security of this nation depends on complete and total compliance,” announces the High Chancellor. “Tonight, any protestor, any instigator or agitator, will be made an example of.” On May 29, early in the protests responding to the police murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and others, President Donald Trump tweeted, “These THUGS are dishonoring the memory of George Floyd, and I won’t let that happen. Just spoke to Governor Tim Walz and told him that the Military is with him all the way. Any difficulty and we will assume control but, when the looting starts, the shooting starts.” On the very day I revisited “V for Vendetta” for this piece, Attorney General Bill Barr was defending the use of violence against peaceful protestors, telling the House Judiciary Committee, “When people resist law enforcement, they’re not peaceful.” “V for Vendetta” also includes scenes of federal secret police hauling off “undesirables”; as I watched the film that night, non-uniformed officers a few miles away dragged a protester into an unmarked minivan with the help of the NYPD. Countless onlookers captured the de facto kidnapping on video, which seemed to give no one involved a moment’s pause.
At the end of “V for Vendetta” (spoiler alert), Evey finishes the act of protest V had promised to commit: the bombing of the Houses of Parliament. “This country needs more than a building right now,” she tells Finch, before pulling the lever. “It needs hope.” I’m sure that in 2005 (and in 1989, when Moore completed the graphic novel), that ending felt like an edgy act of willful provocation. In 2020, I’m not so sure. Because what that ending is getting at is growing more inescapable by the day: that sometimes a government can become so corrupt, so ruthless, and so ruinous that the only way to fix it is to burn it all down.
“V for Vendetta” is currently streaming on Netflix.
