Michael Bay’s “The Rock” is a movie that I hold very dear to my heart, perhaps his only movie that I have positive feelings for. My infatuation started with an amazing soundtrack by Nick Lennie-Smith, Harry Greyson-Williams and Hans Zimmer, and only grew with a few memorable scenes: the opening, the shower room massacre, the death of general Hummel. However, the sympathy did wane with subsequent viewings. Here’s why.
Metaphors have never been my strong suit. In high school I took two terms of classes dedicated to general film knowledge, which culminated with the analysis of Volker Schlondoff’s “The Voyager“, based on Max Frisch’s novel “Homo Faber”, and then Peter Weir’s “Witness“. I did a decent job at it, but more nuanced aspects eluded me. I still remember my surprise when I learnt that the black sunglasses in “The Voyager” were a very clear analogy of Oedipus’ ripped out eyes.
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