Donnie Darko

You know you’ve watched it. And you were high. Or not. Honestly, it doesn’t matter, because no amount of sobriety or inebriation will make Donnie Darko make more sense. And that, in some way, seems to be the point. A movie that features an air disaster released a mere six weeks after the 911 attacks probably never had a chance at box office success anyway, but as time and memory fade and more and more people embraced the darkness and weirdness of this film — and online forums grew in size — it moved into that vaunted “cult classic” territory and took on a whole new life. I’d seen the film a couple times before this latest viewing, but tried this time to watch it as an actual film rather than a mere curiosity. After all, even the actors involved apparently had no idea what the hell was going on, so how are we supposed to care?

I can report that I still have no clue what exactly happens in this film. Frankly (pun sort of intended), I’m not really sure it matters. But I’m much more aware now than I was back in 2001 of the themes of mental illness and how that plays a role in the surrealism and thematics of the movie. So, at the very least, the narrative structure makes a bit more sense than it did when this was just a cool-looking, mind-fuck movie that served its cult purpose in the American film lexicon. I want to say (probably for the millionth time on this site) that I studied film production in college. My buddy and I wrote a script — or at the least the beginning of one — in 1991 or thereabouts that didn’t feel entirely different than Donnie Darko. It wasn’t exactly same by any means, but it involved a group of college friends and some near death / time travel stuff that was ultra-dark and involved altering time and space and occurrences in their lives. I’m sure our concept was a ripoff of Flatliners, or a variation on Jacob’s Ladder (both of which came out in 1990 and were fresh in our minds), but that’s kind of what passed for cool, heady pop cinema back then. And then, a decade later, along comes Donnie Darko. The film, set in 1988, and the Donnie character literally the exact same age as my high school friends and me were at that time. It just felt like kismet.

The thing is, my third swing through this film (give or take), it started to maybe make a little more sense to me. At least on a macro level. I think what was helpful was focusing on Jake Gyllenhaal’s performance. Because there is honestly a lot going on in this film. And it’s mostly distraction. Gyllenhaal, who was only a couple years removed from graduating from the same high school I attended when he shot this film. A coincidence, but one that made some difference in my head. He could be me! Except for just about everything. Anyhow, the movie and everything that happens in it is from his POV. His brain creates the unreality that the film lives in. His brain creates Frank, the evil 6-foot rabbit, who commands him to do stuff seemingly against his will. All the completely coincidental things that happen may or may not be a figment of his imagination. All the things he does that would and should disturb every adult in his life, but they seemingly dismiss. And while Donnie’s face doesn’t give anything away, it also does. The whole storyline with Jim Cunningham (Patrick Swayze), for instance, is a distraction. It runs along in the background, his duplicitousness is exposed and then completely undone. Honestly, it is one of the weirder parts of the film and operates on a totally different wavelength than the rest of it. But continue to keep an eye on how Gyllenhaal reacts to things. We’re supposed to believe he’s a bit of an empty vessel based on his dead eyes and the mind control Frank seemingly holds over him. But his reactions and emotions guide the way the viewer is supposed to understand the film’s reality. He takes back his agency. By killing the control. And then by choosing to override his perceived future by deciding his own fate. Gyllenhaal — even if nobody else gets what’s happening – has the story in his head and, in his performance, guides our understanding if you watch it closely.

None of this will make sense if you haven’t watched the movie. And, honestly, the more I think about it, the more it slips through my fingers as well. Maybe the movie doesn’t mean anything. Maybe its writer / director, Richard Kelly, didn’t really want to do anything other than make a freaky, obtuse film that would allow the public to argue over its meaning. So, perhaps it is he who had a vision of the future. How else could he foresee the YouTube world of explainers? Or Reddit? In a time when most film critique was more about thumbs up or thumbs down. Or an intellectual discussion about the technical filmmaking piece of it. But the theories and pontification about the meaning or intention of the filmmaker has only heightened since its release. It almost feels like Donnie Darko was the test case for this modern phenomenon. So, while the timing of its release was unfortunate because of the national tragedy that happened just prior, it really spurred the online discourse industry about these kind of ambiguous tales that delved into time travel and madness. It’s interesting that the fractured and confusing nature of the narrative is exactly what drove this ongoing conversation. In retrospect, the filmmakers are geniuses for this. Even if it was proably by accident.