Image & Narrative, Vol 13, No 1 (2012) 114 Review: Inception and Philosophy: Ideas To Die For
Botz-Bornstein, Thorsten, ed. Inception and Philosophy: Ideas to Die For. Chicago: Open Court, 2011. ISBN: 978-0-8126-9733-9
Martin Rosenstock
An art object that elicits a wide range of interpretations is not necessarily of superior quality. However, diversity in critical readings arguably bespeaks the complexity of such an object. Judging by the amount of scholarly attention it has received, Christopher Nolan’s Inception certainly appears to be a complex—perhaps also a difficult—film. It tells the story of how a group of corporate snoops, hired raiders of the human psyche, invade a person’s dreams so as to implant in his subconscious an idea that will manifest in reality as changed behavior; all this while also keeping in question the ontological status of this reality. Weighty stuff, for sure. Phenomenological and psychoanalytical considerations suggest themselves immediately, but questions that spring from the realms of media theory and neuroscience do not lag far behind, as do ethical and even economic issues. Hence it comes as no surprise that Hollywood’s fourth highest grossing film of 2010 has been the subject of much academic scrutiny.
Inception resonated with a global mass audience. A critical project that addresses itself to this audience while also reflecting the film’s complex nature possesses an element of inevitability. The market demanded a book like Inception and Philosophy, a volume of essays for the general reader that brings different theoretical approaches to bear on Nolan’s film. The question is to what extent the book’s editor, Thorsten Botz-Bornstein, has succeeded in assembling a group of writings that sheds light on the various facets of the object under consideration and also combines intellectual rigor with popular appeal. Inception and Philosophy comprises twenty-one essays organized into five groups, loosely defined by topic, such as media or dream theory. In this manner, the volume makes reference to the multi-layered structure of Inception itself, suggesting that the essays are taking the reader ever deeper into the film’s thematic issues. This light, self-reflexive tone also characterizes many of the essays themselves and ought to make them enjoyable to an academic and non-academic audience alike. At times, however, the volume’s structure can also appear a little haphazard, that is, some contributions
Image & Narrative, Vol 13, No 1 (2012) 115 might legitimately have found themselves in another group. A stronger conceptual statement in the introduction, parsing the trajectory in which the essays have been situated, would have been helpful in this regard.
Inevitably with volumes of this nature, some contributions appear more novel and thought provoking than others, though allowances have to be made for each reader’s personal interests. To the present one, Nathan Andersen’s piece ‘Inception and Deception’ stood out for the wider context it provides and for the manner in which it situates the film within established philosophical debates. His reading shows how Inception extends the treatment of themes that can be found throughout Nolan’s oeuvre, for instance the susceptibility of the human being’s senses to manipulation. Andersen then goes on to explore how the film not merely dramatizes basic tenets of Cartesian philosophy, but in fact radicalizes notions of skepticism by creating a scenario in which cerebration fails to establish for the subject a reliable basis for truthful statements. Daniel P. Molloy’s contribution, ‘The Business of Inception,’ considers the film’s portrayal of a power struggle between rival business conglomerates in the context of debates surrounding the notion of corporate personhood. Molloy reads Nolan’s film as a parable that foregrounds the question of whether moral personhood must be ascribed to corporations in addition to legal personhood. Should that be so, he suggests that questions arise as to the courses of action individuals or communities might legitimately pursue vis-à-vis such entities. In light of recent efforts to hold multi-national corporations accountable for the results of their behavior, environmental degradation, say, or social strife, the essay appears as a timely contribution. Matthew Brophy’s essay ‘Shared Dreams in Virtual Worlds’ addresses an issue similarly topical and socially relevant, though far less political in nature. He argues that Inception constitutes a deliberate commentary upon the increasing popularity of online computer games that create alternate realities. What initially may appear as a somewhat far-fetched proposition becomes more compelling once one learns that COBOL, the name of one of the two contending business conglomerates, is also the name of an early computer language used to create programs for operational processes. In Brophy’s reading, Inception’s central conceit, communal or group dreaming, stands analogous to a multitude of players quitting reality for the world of online role playing games, and Mal, the neglected wife of the film’s hero, is not the Mal-ware as which he dismisses her but rather a ‘gamer’s widow,’ a woman who has lost the contest for her spouse’s attention to cyberspace.
Image & Narrative, Vol 13, No 1 (2012) 116 Over twenty essays on one film will of course make for some silent arguing with the book in hand, and in a sense that is how it should be. An interpretation or a commentary ought to stimulate the mind by arguing for a specific take on the material or advancing a certain point of view. The reader might find a reading original and appealing, yet hold some reservations. Regardless, the encounter with another person’s ideas will have deepened his or her appreciation of the object under scrutiny. The essays in the collection also argue with, or at least speak to, each other, and that too fosters a deeper appreciation of Inception’s thematic richness. Both Molloy’s and Brophy’s essays, for instance, situate the film within present-day economic and social debates, but advance very different opinions as to what constitutes the appropriate real-life referent of the narrative. Not only theme is at issue in such a debate. Whatever side one comes down on will also impact one’s views on the tone of Nolan’s film and on his rhetorical strategy. A critical dimension that appears somewhat underrepresented in Botz-Bornstein’s volume, especially considering the global reach of Inception (it made more than a third of its money overseas), is the non-Western perspective. Though a number of pieces reference East Asian philosophy, most notably Zhuangzi’s writings, only one, Hui M. Chan’s ‘Butterfly and Spinning Top,’ engages with this philosophy in a sustained manner. More essays that explore approaches to Inception not beholden to the occidental tradition may have rounded out the collection in a compelling manner. That being said, the editor has certainly succeeded in assembling an engaging group of writings that will animate the minds of both professionals and laymen who have been unable to quit pondering their own ideas about Nolan’s film.
Martin Rosenstock, Ph.D., is Assistant Professor in Residence of German and Comparative Literature at the Department of Modern and Classical Languages, University of Connecticut, Storrs
