An Appreciation of Following

WARNING: SPOILERS FOLLOW

In another month or so, Tenet will hit theaters. What better time is there to revisit Christopher Nolan's filmography, starting with his first-ever feature film?

What's in the booooooox?

Even though Following came out in 1998, I didn't see it until 2012 when the Blu-Ray was released from the Criterion Collection. Even though it's not nearly as big-scale or epic of a film as the Dark Knight trilogy or Inception, I liked the film just fine for what it was. Its black-and-white photography had a stark and gritty quality that reminded me of Darren Aronofsky's Pi, but the story carried trademarks and a structure that would carry over to many of his future works (most especially Memento and Inception). Considering how limited the budget and production was for Following, it is exceptionally impressive how well-shot, well-acted, and well-written the film actually is--it could stand toe-to-toe with similar neo-noir pictures like 1997's Insomnia, or 1996's Bound. It wouldn't be too out-of-place among the myriad of Hitchcock thrillers either.

Thus, the film has remained in my collection as one of many understated gems. I never really revisited it as much as the other Nolan films, but after a recent rewatch my memory was refreshed and I remembered what it actually was that made me like the guy's work in the first place. I still think the film is good, plain and simple, and well worth a watch for anybody with 70 minutes to spare.

The Fellow Who Follows

A film about a guy who just stalks random people could have been dry and boring on its own. Following manages to keep things moving from frame one. It starts exactly where any good story should--by introducing the character and their motivation. This is actually presented in a very explicit, straightforward manner by having the main character speak to someone who's interviewing him. We may not know at the time who this other person is, but the scene is revisited in the last shot and we find out that this is a police interrogation, and the main character is framed for murder. In the course of these interviews, we find out right away that:

• The main character has this habit of "following" people.
• The character does this because he was lonely.
• The character doesn't discriminate between following men or women, which shows that he has no voyeuristic or perverted intention.
• The reason he gives is that he just wants to see where people go and what they do.

Even though this is very direct dialogue, and maybe a little on-the-nose, it is successful at setting up the story and establishing the character as a loner with this peculiar hobby. The dialogue is still presented with care to the characters' voices. They are also trim and economical.

Who to follow next?

In the next few scenes, the dialogue becomes a voice-over that complements the scenes we see--this same technique is something Nolan would employ in many of his future films, including all the Batman ones. We learn next that the protagonist has certain rules he follows, but the one time he fails to follow them invites trouble into his life. When this happens, the story kicks off.

All of this happens within the first few minutes of the movie. By the time the character's life is turned around, we already know who he is, what he does for a living, and what his obsession is. This is the bare minimum needed before conflict is introduced. What's really admirable is that the film achieves the groundwork of the story (via introducing the character and providing exposition) as close to the story's starting point as possible. This makes the movie very lean, efficient, and it maintains interest right from the start.

Who Follows The Follower?

In short order, we're introduced to a character named Cobb, who outright challenges the protagonist and leads him into a deeper level of obsession. Thus, the main character moves from following people to breaking into houses and upending the place.

Cobb is the villain of the story, but judging him as an "antagonist" is a little tricky. It's not the usual case where an antagonist gets in the way of the protagonist's goals--the main character has no "goal" in this film. What winds up happening is that Cobb gives him a goal, but this sets him on a path of destruction through deception and treachery. Like Satan, Cobb uses temptation and appeals to the character's ego and desires to push him into deeper and more dangerous levels of corruption.

The devilish parallels don't end there though. Also like Satan, Cobb gets a thrill out of messing with people's stuff, with the intention of causing mischief and sowing doubt or conflict in the households he invades. And he justifies this with a certain rebellious bravado, insisting that by taking away something a person will appreciate what he has more (and this could be a little similar to how Tyler Durden's motivations in Fight Club, in which he wanted to shake people out of apathy and materialism and live their lives in a fuller way).

Cobb ultimately finds an ally with the Blonde--the very same woman that the protagonist burgles, but remains unaware that she and Cobb are conspiring against him. These secrets, as well as Blonde's connection to the Bald Guy, become reveals that redirect our understanding of the story. We experience these shifts at the same times the main character does, so when he's surprised, we are too. Even though the film begins and ends with the character in police custody, we really can't see where this story is going--there's nothing in the opening to suggest the main character is actually in trouble, but by the end we watch as he is framed for murder. And it all happens because of Cobb's cold scheming.

Everyone Has A Box

The main character initially follows people out of curiosity. It shows a human interest in other people--he simply wants to know what makes them tick, and possible connect to others on a more personal level. He maintains rigid distance because it's respectful and lawful. Cobb, however, invades people's lives forcibly. He even squats in people's houses when he knows they'll be gone for a long period of time. It's not only unlawful, but also a violation of privacy, and perhaps violation in other forms (such as psychological).

Oh look, he found the Joker's card.

It's probably best understood with the concept of boxes--when the characters engage in their burglary, Cobb makes the comment that "everyone has a box," where people supposedly hide their most intimate secrets and belongings. On one level, this becomes a major plot point, since the main character takes on the mission to steal the Bald Guy's "box" to take back Blonde's incriminating photos. On the other hand, the use of boxes is also a stand-in for the very thing the character wants--intimate knowledge and connection with other people.

What's really creepy then is that Cobb succeeds by having a box faked, which in turn tricks the protagonist into falling for an identity that doesn't really exist. In turn, this alters the protagonists' reality, until the truth becomes known. You can even see Cobb arranging the box in the film's opening titles--we just don't comprehend this at first because, out of context, it's just hands putting stuff in a box. Once you know how this plays out, you realize you're actually watching Cobb arrange his devious plan, and it creates a kind of foreshadowing. Thus, the brief montage holds up even on repeat viewings.

The box is more than a McGuffin here--it's also a thing that curses the main character (it just occurred to me that there could be a parallel to the myth of Pandora's Box with this). More importantly, it's a symbol that embodies what the film is about thematically--the search and intrusion of other people's secrets.

Stop--Hammer Time

Boxes aren't the only thing that plays a role in the story. The main character is ultimately implicated in Blonde's murder via a hammer--the protagonist used it to kill the Bald Guy, but Cobb uses it to kill Blonde. Inevitably, with the main character's fingerprints still on the handle, the police wind up pinning her death on him.

All of this didn't need much of a set-up. About halfway through the film, we see the hammer introduced when gangsters use it "take care" of someone. Aside from introducing threat and characterizing the Bald Guy as a cold-blooded villain, the scene serves to associate the hammer as a tool for murder. When it changes hands across other scenes, including the flashback showing Cobb murdering the Blonde, we can see the weapon's path across the story and understand visually how the main character became the prime suspect. Through all this, we also see how Cobb's devious schemes play out.

If the hammer was never introduced the way it was, it wouldn't have as much weight as it does in the story. It might even seem like just a convenient thing the characters find and use. But when it's established that organized criminals do bludgeon others regularly with hammers, it seems as though that same threat and violence transfers to Cobb and the main character when they wind up using it. It's all a connection, almost like the opposite of Chekhov's Gun.

Birth Of An Idea

Chances are by now that you may see many similarities between Following and another Nolan film made on a much bigger budget--2010's Inception. Not only is the name Cobb repurposed, but the idea of boxes is harped on again. In Inception, the formula winds up being flipped so that it's not about thieves stealing other people's intimate secrets--they put things into said boxes to change a person from the inside. In one twist, a box is even used to trick the character into losing track of his own life. I have a feeling Inception brewed in Nolan's head for a while, ultimately recycling the "box" motif, the names, and the core psychological ideas into a more ambitious spectacle.

On its own though, Following holds up just fine as a short, competent neo-noir. There are many things to admire about it, including these aspects:

• This film hardly had a budget. It was pieced together with very candid photography, often capturing the crowds of English streets without anybody being aware they were being filmed. For a film that focuses on just a handful of characters, a few simple props, and real locations, the film makes the most of what it has thanks to its script, rehearsals to reduce the number of takes needed, and concise editing.
• Like many Nolan pictures, the timeline of the story is chopped up to some degree. It's not nearly as convoluted as his other movies, but notably, the final scene is split and shown at the beginning and end, and some events that happened earlier are shown as fleeting flashbacks to visually reinforce a given reveal or twist.
• What's a film noir without a femme fatale? Lucy Russell plays the Blonde in a way that makes her feel like a grounded, real character, and less like a stereotype. And yet, the way she colludes with Cobb and her tragic death still fits the archetype.
• Nolan's films present themselves in a rather stiff and formal way--it's some combination of the films' visual styles, cutting, acting, dialogue, and music. Following notably feels dry and has pretty stiff dialogue, but it's not entirely without personality. The naturalistic performances from all the leads make them creditable as characters, and it helps them stand out even when the dialogue becomes flat exposition. But it helps that the characters do manage to talk about their ideals, desires, and feelings in a frank way--even though it might seem on-the-nose, it's a fast way for the film to layer its story so that the characters and their actions make sense.
• This isn't so much a movie to watch for voice, levity, or catharsis--it's best taken as something to think and ponder over.
• The music score is decent.
• Main character is a writer. Yay!

If there's anything to admonish about the film, it's just that it's rough around the edges and maybe a little slow and quiet. It has more strengths than weaknesses though--I've always been intrigued by the story and its presentation, but on a rewatch I am genuinely impressed by the script and the way the story flows. Although Nolan's future films will embody more complex stories, stronger characters, stronger emotions, and a lot more action, Following still showcases his trademarks and it remains quite a chilling tale.

A writer in his natural habitat.