Runaway Train (Part 1) - Of Violence and Close-ups

I have lived through Nightmare on Elm Street, I have seen Hellraiser, I have went through the Tooth Fairy, and I have survived Candyman. Each of these featured excessive violence, yet whenever I'm confronted with films like Inglourious Basterds, I can't help but feel a little nauseous. It's not that the movie was bad; on the contrary, it wasn't. Every scene was a shoot-out, every scene featured beatings, scalpings, and blood. Runaway Train happens to fit in the Inglourious Basterds category.
Now, Mr. Bennett told us the opening scenes are the most violent ones out of the entire movie, so maybe it won't delve into Quentin Tarantino territory; Tarantino is too extravagant anyway. The film itself has a very promising start so far as we are introduced to Eric Roberts' character, Buck, a prisoner from the South who looks like he's roughly in his mid-to-late twenties. Runaway Train takes place in Alaska, and the cinematography is brilliant! The story is represented like it is a documentary; most films from the 1980's have either violet lights or a bluish tinge; in Runaway Train's case, everything is in a jarring yellow. This isn't supposed to be the feel-good film of the year. In fact, there is no music at all. Everything is grounded in realism; even the jail cells are not stylized.
It is a man eat man world, and to paraphrase Mr. Bennett, it is a Greek tragedy. There is no way a film that opens with a prison riot can end well. We are also introduced to our actual protagonist Manheim, otherwise known as Manny. Do not let his hardened exterior fool you; he is a learned man who knows precisely how the world works. He is a cold-blooded killer, yet he is also philosophical. How many prisoners can quote Nietzche?
One of Nietzche's philosophies, as a matter of fact, is the story's theme. "Whatever doesn't kill me makes me stronger" underlines Manny's determination to break free. The prison itself is squalid, and the warden walks like he is a dictator. Instead of trying to reform the criminals, he merely regards them as animals and barely intervenes when there is a riot. It'll be a stretch to call him Hitler, Stalin, or Mussolini; he is not that monstrous. If his charges weren't prisoners, perhaps the viewer may draw the comparisons.
This is where I want to truly get into violence. Prison films always feature at least some form of riot, be it over money or relationships. In this case, it is not provoked at all. Now that I think of it, I see why it is more uncomfortable compared to the other films mentioned in the first paragaph. In Hellraiser and Candyman, the actual violence happens off-screen; even though the antagonist in the former movie bludgeons two of her victims to death, the actual blows are never shown. Runaway Train, on the other hand, does not back down on any punches. We have an extreme close-up of Manny's hand when he gets hand, and then we get some religious imagery when he is stabbed in the side. These extreme close-ups do not help anyone either. Obviously, the production team used a fake hand to get the job done, but it looks so visceral, so realistic, you can't help but look away. This is not a beautiful film, and it is never meant to be. Oddly enough, these never kill him, which goes back to Nietzche's quote. As stated before, he is a hardy man who refuses to back down without a fight.
We were cut off before Buck and Manny continue their escape, but already, I see a foil between the two personalities. Buck seems more ambitious, while Manny plans everything carefully. He is the brains of the operation, the one who keeps a level head. Buck, on the other hand, seems more impulsive, and he takes matters more lightly than he does. In short, he is a lackadaisical man.
Let us see what's in store for us on Wednesday, when we continue on with the rest of the film. Maybe we'll get to meet Rebecca De Mornay's character, and maybe we'll see the warden's reaction to their escape.