The Perfect Film’s Been Made; And It’s Rango
Who am I? -Rango
The greatest movie of all time? The acme of cinema? “It's Apocalypse Now! It's 2001: A Space Odyssey! It has to be The Godfather.” Blah. Blah. Blah. It's Rango.
“B-b-but how could you decisively name one movie better than all others in history? And an animated one at that!” Don’t care. You’re all wrong. It’s Rango.
But in all seriousness, what makes a great film? And why do I believe Rango to be such a brilliant example of one?
Tarantino believes a great film subverts audience expectations. It should elicit fundamental human emotions. His filmography clearly represents that view. Tarantino enjoys achieving this end through revenge, offering the satisfaction of “justice served”. His heroes exact well-deserved payback with interest.
Many directors believe great films should be “tailored narratives”. Wes Anderson suggests a film doesn’t need a complex plot or storyline but should rather “cast a spell” in “a fixed period of time”. For him, cinematography is at its best when the narrative is concise and complete. When you’ve told your story, then you have a great film.
I think we’re on the right track. A great film is a great story.
But John Steinbeck goes further: “No story has power, nor will it last, unless we feel in ourselves that it is true and true of us.” A great story isn’t one that tells the director’s or author’s story. No matter how personal and thought provoking the narrative is to its creator, if the audience can’t connect with it, it's just another study piece.
Luckily, Rango isn’t just Gore Verbinski’s personal narrative. Rango tells our story. Rango gives us all the chance to embark on a hero’s journey and grow in character right alongside him. This is why Rango is such a great film: it shows us who we were, who we are, and who we can become.
Despite its absurd plot, its silly creatures and characters, its hilarious self awareness, and its dry sense of humor, Rango explores incredibly deep themes of self realization and existentialism. Rango is certainly not your run of the mill comedy or cookie cutter Western (although it certainly cosplays as one). Gore Verbinski poses an essential question right at the beginning of the movie: Who are you?
Rango forces us to consider aspects of our own identity that we may never have considered before. What makes us who we are? Is it the accumulation of our experiences, or is it our aspirations and goals?
The film follows Rango as he fabricates his identity from the moment he steps into the town of Dirt and interacts with its people. Under the guise of a confident hero, he comes to save the town from corruption and drought. His new identity is embraced by everyone, including himself, as he becomes an integral part of the community. But once his fabricated reality is torn apart and the “big bad villain” confronts him, the true essence of his identity is exposed: he doubts himself. He doesn’t really know who he is. There was no substance to his identity because he had made it up.
But the fact is, Rango was a hero even before he was confronted and his fraudulence was revealed to the townspeople. He did kill the hawk terrorizing the town. He did fight the horde of prairie dogs. And most of all, Rango was truly relied upon by all. It wasn’t his over the top acting or his facade that the townspeople loved. They loved Rango. And he was able to receive their adoration by truly being himself; even if he didn’t realize that. Rango was loved and he did achieve tangible results. Rango had become someone even before he thought he was someone.
Eventually, Rango realizes that his identity doesn’t come from a narcissistic need to be the hero, but in the fact that others genuinely rely on him. He doesn’t need to define himself around others' expectations; he can be defined by what he desires and what he cares about.
Rango realizes that as he is introduced to this new community, he begins to form a connection that is larger than himself. A hero isn’t a hero in a vacuum: only when the people of Dirt, whom Rango loves, need his help does he truly become one.
Similarly, our identities—and by extension our existence—are meaningless without human connection. This is the story that Rango tells. Through such a familiar genre and an engaging medium, Rango implores us to cherish those around us, because only then will we truly know who we are.
We can never truly understand or fathom our potential in isolation. Our identities aren’t just an accumulation of our experiences or egotistical drives; they’re shaped by the ideas and support of those that want the best for us.
Rango may not be the perfect film in your opinion or in the eyes of professional critics with far more expertise in cinematography than I have. But Rango reminds us that we aren’t alone in trying to discover who we are.
But it is up to us to take that first leap towards the “other side” to try to find out. And to me, that’s just perfect.