Glass Onion, Rian Johnson, and the Disruption of Power

On Wednesday, November 23rd, both the season finale of Andor and the premiere of Glass Onion aired – so you can imagine my excitement and what the direction of this blog will be for the next bit. It was unsurprising that I adored both of them. It was more surprising that they resonated so similarly.

Anyone who’s had a conversation with me in the past few years knows my love for Rian Johnson’s work. The release of Star Wars: The Last Jedi has apparently shaken up fandom conversations forever – to this day, furious fans will use it as an example of all they hate in modern media, even as we’re approaching five (!) years from its release. For those who loved it, The Last Jedi stood as quite a different symbol: a beacon of hope that the Star Wars brand could still stand for more than self-referential idealization. Perhaps, in that sense, it makes a lot of sense that Andor and a Rian Johnson film should be spoken of in the same conversation. In any case, Rian Johnson seemed to win divided audiences over with his 2019 murder-mystery, Knives Out. The movie became a sleeper-hit over the American Thanksgiving season, continuing to stay in theatres well into the New Year, making over $165,000,000 domestically and holding its own against Disney giants like Frozen II, and, appropriately, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker. Netflix promptly bought the rights to two sequels for $469 million, with Johnson back to write and direct. Now came the new pressure: writing a sequel to one of the biggest surprise successes of the decade. As I’ve written about before, there is a unique challenge in writing sequels – and even more so writing an anthology sequel like this one. How do you meet and overturn the expectations set by the first movie?

This is a movie about how being Joseph Gordon-Levitt is Very Cool and how being a teenager Sucks.

Of course, meeting and overturning expectations is something of a mission statement for Rian Johnson. The core premise of his initial movie, Brick, is rooted in a wild blend of genres and ideas: a detective noir set at a Californian high school, a coming-of-age movie draped in the language of a hard-boiled crime novel. Baby-faced Joseph Gordon-Levitt plays Brandon Frye, a distant teenager who fancies himself an investigator, trying to pull the threads on a web of nefarious peers in order to find his missing ex-girlfriend. The combination of genres always sits in a sort of oil-and-water concoction, never quite coalescing, but always rather existing in distinct halves. There’s a lot of humour in watching these high-schoolers speak in all the lingo and rhythm of a Dashiell Hammett novel. But then, on a rare occasion, the normalcy of the world around these teenagers comes crashing in as a mom comes to offer milk to these two adolescents having an intense conversation about the local underground drug trade. Suddenly the audience realizes that these are truly children dressing themselves as adults, and getting actually, genuinely hurt in the process. The two worlds of the movie never quite cohere because the experience of being a teenager never quite coheres, it’s the experience of a person in-between two worlds, not quite an adult yet no longer quite a kid. Brick marks Rian Johnson’s career with a very promising start, a director who uses his combining and remixing of genres in order to get at something very genuinely human. More than the subversion, it’s the empathy at the root of Johnson’s filmography that keeps me coming back.

Honestly my biggest criticism of Glass Onion in comparison to Knives Out is that Glass Onion lacks some of the richness of texture that Knives Out had - but that might just be the difference between interior and exterior shooting.

Take the previous entry of the franchise Glass Onion finds itself in – Knives Out. There are a lot of moving parts and whirling pieces that made up Johnson’s delightful mid-budget murder-mystery. Of note is the way he reinvents the genre to center it around Ana de Armas’ character Marta Cabrera. By the time we step into Marta’s story, she is convinced that she is responsible for the central death of the movie, albeit accidentally. We follow her as she tries to manoeuvre around the wiles of Daniel Craig’s detective Benoit Blanc, desperately hoping not to be pinned for a crime that could ruin not only her life but also the lives of her family. But her journey revolves around a single question Blanc has for her – does being a good person help her to be a good nurse? In the end, through a family that thrives in double-crossing, back-stabbing, and manipulation of truth for their own self-betterment, Marta’s earnestness vindicates her. In the end, Knives Out functions something as a moral play, a story where human goodness and selflessness triumphs over self-centered wickedness. In framing the narrative around the suspected murderer instead of the detective, Johnson flips the regular murder-mystery script, but does so to the end of creating a deeper, richer story, about more than just “who killed who and why.” It does come with all the anticipated twists, turns, and intrigue, but it is about much more than that.

Fun fact: JGL actually stars or cameos in all of Johnson's films. His cameo in Glass Onion may just be his best.

But there’s another, growing element in Johnson’s filmography that sits underneath both his penchant for pulling the rug and his empathetic moral framework. His 2008 sophomore follow-up to Brick was a bizarre con-man flick titled The Brothers Bloom, wherein Mark Ruffalo and Adrian Brody play brothers trying to hustle an eccentric rich heiress played by Rachel Weiss. Weiss’ character is socially distant, cut off from a world she wants to partake in, and a key part of the con is helping to give her the life that she’s always wanted. As described by Johnson, there is still a sense of romanticism inherit in The Brothers Bloom, depicting a sort of rich fairy tale world he had dreamed of as a kid.[1] As his filmography continues, however, a sense of cynicism grows in his relationship to that world. In 2012’s Looper, the opulent future is propped up by a dirty, grimy network of crime and bloodshed, capped by the literal self-destruction of those who support the system. At Looper’s core is an awareness that ambition and cruel independence are inherently destructive, and all the characters are at the whims of the cycles of violence and hate that surround them. Only one act of self-sacrifice, born out of love and selflessness rather than greed and indifference, can break the cycle and free everyone from the horrors their pursuit of wealth has resulted in.

Maybe my hottest take on The Last Jedi is that this sequence should actually have been longer.

It is in 2017’s The Last Jedi that Johnson’s critique of class and wealth really hit the forefront. At the heart of the movie’s entire moral and thematic structure sits Canto Bight, a world where the rich social elite come together and profit on the vast global conflict, earning hordes of money from both sides of the war. The Last Jedi frames its heroes in direct resistance to this nexus of wealth. It is here, on Canto Bight, where Finn realizes he can’t maintain neutrality, but has to rise up to take a stand. For many, the episode on Canto Bight felt like a detour from the main plot, but in reality it is essential to the thematic movement of the other characters. Again, Andor gives insight here – while I plan to discuss Andor in more depth soon, it is worth noting that the entire show predicates itself on exploring the horrors of the Empire and the dangers of neutrality. One can’t sit back and let people be dehumanized for the benefit of the wealthy, one has to take a stand. Finn’s movement, from bystander to true Rebel, is in step with the movement of all the other characters in the story. Rey moves from an anxious outsider to the hero of this cycle. Poe moves from a self-centred flyby to a general in the Resistance. Apathy is death, and neutrality simply lets the bad guys win.

Johnson seems to be using these movies to put the focus on up-and-coming actors, letting them play against some real heavy-hitters, and I think that's cool.

In this context, the metaphors of Knives Out receive a little more bite. Marta stands against a cadre of conniving upper-class would-be criminals. While the cast of the Thrombey family is certainly a delight to watch, Johnson always takes care to maintain a sense of sinister-ness behind their actions. Michael Shannon’s Walt Thrombey seems affable and aloof for the most part, but when he learns his father’s fortune may go to Marta instead of him, a sense of genuine malice creeps into his conversations with her. Even though these characters have gotten to their position through the good graces of their patriarch, Harlan Thrombey, they all are prepared to kill to keep what they have. Much of the class commentary in Knives Out pokes gently at a spectrum of elites in a Trump-era America. The Thrombey family ranges from the Alt-Right to performative progressives, all of whom possess a two-faced relationship with Marta. No matter how verbally they regard her immigrant status, when the pressure is on they universally view her as an intruder into their family dynamic – regardless of the wishes of Harlan. Power and status come before all. Marta’s goodness stands as an indictment of the selfishness of those around her, and her commitment to doing good despite the forces conniving against her functions as a subtle act of resistance. In the end, her quiet strength of will undoes the entirety of the Thrombey power dynamic and circumvents the corrupt structure they benefitted from. She was more interested in creating beauty than in winning their game, and in so doing, changed the rules of the game entirely.

In a way, that is the thesis behind Johnson’s entire filmography. His commitment to overturning genre and story structure in the pursuit of better, deeper characters and themes, are his own act of resistance. The pursuit of beauty and creativity are more powerful than the Hollywood pursuit of practicality and efficiency. Time and time again, his often counter-cultural filmmaking has stood against the pillars of expectation and won. The Last Jedi, despite its detractors who resisted its “political” messaging, remains the only Star Wars title of the Disney era to have a clean, simple production, and was a huge financial success. Knives Out stood up against those self-same Disney giants and proved itself as such a winning formula that Netflix spent an unprecedented amount of money to sweep up its franchise status. While actors like Daniel Craig had grown exhausted by the demands of mainstream franchises like 007, Rian Johnson’s easy-going personality and genuine work ethic have won the respect of nearly every actor who’s worked with him. Craig and Johnson are now dedicated to making as many Benoit Blanc films as they see fit, chiefly because the process is fun. Johnson has refused to play the standard game of Hollywood, and has more often than not come out swiping the victory from them.

So I'm pretty sure the Edward Norton painting in the back is a Fight Club reference - there's like half a dozen Fincher references in this movie and I Will find out why.

The release of Glass Onion is no exception. As a second Benoit Blanc story, it had a lot of coattails to ride. Even worse, Netflix, in an astounding move, decided to only give Glass Onion a week-long theatrical run. In one sense, this is a victory to movies produced by streaming companies; often, Netflix, Amazon Prime, and other businesses have outright refused to grant their original titles theatrical releases. The fact that Glass Onion is releasing as wide as it is can in some sense be seen as a blessing. But the one-week release window truly appears to be crippling Netflix’s returns. On the one hand, Glass Onion will not be allowed the word-of-mouth success that dominated Knives Out’s narrative. On the other hand, Glass Onion has already been dominating box office numbers in the short few days it’s been on screens. Johnson has already had his payout – here it’s simply Netflix losing themselves money. Over Thanksgiving Weekend in America, theatres have been filled out consistently. In a way, I hope Glass Onion proves itself as a win for the theatrical community – people clearly still want to go to theatres, and still want to support artists in a way that streaming will simply never accomplish.

This movie may be funnier than Knives Out - Kate Hudson gets one of wildest jokes and it's amazing.

This all feels appropriate, because it is in Glass Onion where Johnson’s themes of resistance are reaching crystal clarity (yes, two thousand words into this review and we’re finally getting to the review part, you’re welcome). There is a sense through this movie where the commentary in Knives Out was just Johnson getting started. There is newfound sharpness in his critique, an edge that was absent even in his judgment of the Thrombeys. While the cast of Glass Onion is smaller, it allows for a more precise sense of vision. The suspects in Glass Onion all have clear inspirations – Edward Norton plays Miles Bron, a self-proclaimed tech mogul who has obvious roots in Elon Musk and Steve Jobs. Dave Bautista’s Duke is a fusion of the over-loaded masculinity of Andrew Tate and Joe Rogan. In a very clear sense, we know these characters, and the movies delights in playing with all the expectations we already have for them. Brilliantly, the movie sets itself at the peak of the COVID pandemic and lets the audience infer as they will about the characters from how they are taking the procedures that defined that period. Like in Knives Out, the cast exists on a spectrum, but there is far less sense of amicability in their portrayal.

This movie does a great job at revealing layers (ha!) to its characters.

One crucial scene in the first half of the movie plays on these expectations. Blanc notes how wide the array of people in Miles Bron’s group extends. Bron labels his friends as “disruptors,” insisting that they have pushed the system farther than many are comfortable with. He outlines a pattern of disruption – it starts out as fun, breaking a norm everyone wanted gone anyways, and eventually pushes into taking down the system itself, and thereby angering those who benefited from said system. But there’s a self-satisfied sense of hypocrisy, or at least delusion, emanating from Bron’s speech. As Andi Brand – impeccably portrayed by relative newcomer Janelle Monáe – points out, the real unifying factor of Bron’s “disruptors” is how much they benefit from his wealth. That wealth, too, benefits from the system Bron seems so pleased with “disrupting,” in reality, he and his peers have merely played and twisted the game so that they come out on top. It is tempting to think about Johnson’s own habit of flipping genre expectations into this vision of disruption. I think it would be a reach to claim that Johnson sees his own film-making in such a revolutionary lens, but it does seem relevant that Johnson’s own habits have so frequently born outward scorn whilst he attempts to overturn the expectations inherit in a genre or franchise.

Janelle Monáe really puts in a captivating performance in this movie.

Without ruining too many of the twists that make Glass Onion a worthy successor to Knives Out, Johnson knows that true disruption of the system cannot start from inside it – it has to start from an exterior force. As the movie reveals its biggest cards, the story begins to enact the very vision of disruption that Bron paints, but against those who would claim to be disruptors while actually just filling their own pockets. It is here where all the elements that Johnson has been discussing in his filmography come to new light. True disruption, true rebellion, cannot start by the wealthy in pursuit of greater wealth. It cannot even start with the sympathetic few who understand how corrupt the system is, but still cannot see it torn down because of how much they benefit from it - neutrality, once again, doesn't combat the system. Disruption is not tweaking a thing you generally like; disruption means blowing up a thing from the inside out and starting anew. In Johnson’s framework, disruption starts from the genuinely incensed, from a pursuit of justice and goodness that boils over into action. From a burning belief that things ought to be put right. It helps that the guiding character of these movies is Benoit Blanc, someone who’s skill as a detective comes not through a ruthless overturning of realities but a calm willingness to sit and listen to the people he finds himself thrown in with. Blanc, in both Knives Out and Glass Onion, ends up being a fulcrum through which other, more important stories emerge. He gives agency and power to those who need it, inciting change and seeking out justice, but doing so with a sense of humility rather than steaming self-righteousness. But even he does not have the power to do everything. There are still systems he is responsible to, and the locus of disruption might just have to come from beyond him.

Daniel Craig really steps up Blanc's shennanigans, and it is a true delight to watch.

It's hard to say much more than that without slipping into spoilers. Rest assured that Glass Onion is very good. I’m sad that this will be coming out before I can really encourage people to go rush to it in theatres, but keep an eye out for when it drops on Netflix later in December. Rian Johnson succeeds in making a sequel that is both familiar and very new – it has all the sort of beats you want from Knives Out but in a decidedly new fashion. He overturns the story structure and the expectations just enough to leave you surprised. And, perhaps more importantly, leaving you wonder how exactly he’s going to do it again in a third Benoit Blanc film. Glass Onion paints the picture just enough for this to be a really strong franchise. There are just enough elements to remix, and just enough to be painted newly whole-cloth for every new movie. As always with Johnson, Glass Onion is an even better movie on rewatch, when all the pieces fall cleanly into place and you retroactively realize the genius at play here. I don’t know if this quite exceeds Knives Out for me – the aesthetic of that movie felt just a little bit tighter, and I’m just a little bit more invested in Marta’s story – but Glass Onion is actively growing on me every day. There’s a lot to love here. And maybe, after this film’s success, Netflix will be encouraged to give the third Blanc movie a little more time in theatres.

Look at this man. This is a man who is getting everything he wants.

Either way, everything is coming up Rian Johnson.

[1] https://sharpmagazine.com/2022/11/25/glass-onion-director-rian-johnson-interview/