Transient:  the Artist’s Statement

“They say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself.”
–Andy Warhol

            The main idea for this film came to me when I was listening to a song called “Planet of the Shapes” by Orbital, and I heard a short sound sample where a voice with a British accent said quietly:  “Even a stopped clock tells the right time twice a day.”
This was such a simple idea, yet it conveyed so many complicated questions.  Firstly, the inadequacies of our instruments of measure are apparent, in the sense that their accuracy depends on our active supervision and operation of these instruments, and even so, they are far from providing us with an absolute description of the passing of time:  they only remind us periodically of what our human frame of reference has created.  Even the most modern clocks – ones that are synchronized to extremely accurate “ticks” at the atomic level of the universe – still express time by less-than-perfect units of measure, that may very well become obsolete in a thousand “years” time.
            How relative, then, is our experience if our clocks can be stopped without putting a halt to the phenomenon we call “time”?  How even more relative, if a dysfunctional stopped clock can still perform its function, even if for two infinitely brief moments in an imaginary cycle?  What does that say about other instruments of measure, and our perception of the universe independent of those instruments?  Without clocks, television, computers, and other reminders, how would we know if our placement in this abstract temporal plane was precise?  All of these questions eventually led me to think about the human mind – the most basic instrument of measure, and perhaps the most unreliable.  Yet if time itself is relative, and if our sensual experience revolves entirely on the passing of our lives, infused with a sense of memory, psychology, ethics, a plethora of disciplines, the endlessly debated sense of consciousness and free will, and what many ages and civilizations have described as the “soul” – then our relative and illogical interpretations of the universe are perhaps, the most accurate of them all.
            Thus came the idea for Willard Morven, a character whose mental deficiency deprives him of his sense of time, but not without a reason.  His incapacity to perceive the difference between past, present and future is merely a premature side effect of a much greater transcendental ability that Will must develop.  Transient therefore sees the physical construct as a constriction.  Time is an inescapable prerequisite of the external world, along with our limited and precarious modes of traveling through space.  After the members of the underground youth organization “Rain Tents” help Will understand his new ability, he not only breaks free of time restrictions, but by extension, bends his spatial surroundings as well.  “Having arrived at his last coordinate, [Will] lifts an arm, to which the space around him responds by skipping around in time and taking him forward, past the city streets, through his apartment, then into the – [Meeting Room – Following Night].” (13)  The film therefore draws a clear relationship between time interventions and space interventions.  What science-fiction films rarely consider is whether time travel would imply parallel distortions of the physical universe.  Robert Zemeckis’ adaptation of Carl Sagan’s novel Contact deals with this issue brilliantly, in a scene where Ellie Arroway (Jodie Foster) travels through wormholes in space, while her physical form is stretched like a rubber band, and her face distorts slightly to utter words in response to events she experienced a few minutes earlier, or is about to experience in the following scene.  Time travel, in both these films, is seen as inseparably related to space travel, and transcending one restriction would mean transcending both.
            Willard does not achieve this state of enlightenment without strenuous costs, however.  Dr. Awkward orders him to perform a series of physical feats that involve running through different coordinates in the midst of an urban environment, while his sensory perception of the world slowly dissipates.  This not only assumes a connection between time and space, but extends that relationship to include our instruments for understanding those two elements – our five known senses.  The more control Willard has over his spatial and temporal surroundings, the less he can control of his own being.  According to the universe of Transient, the order of our sensual existence is therefore directly proportional to the order of time and space.  To understand a chaotic surrounding we must become chaos ourselves.  In other words, Willard cannot arrive at this prohibitive transcendental state unless he rids himself of these metaphorical chains:  his hearing, touch, taste and smell, and eventually, his sight.
            Thus, by submitting Willard to this arduous process, Dr. Awkward suggests an even deeper relationship between time, space, the senses, and the very thing that makes us human.  While describing to the rest of the Rain Tents what happened to Willard during his ritualistic experience, Dr. Awkward says:  “At this point he’d been stripped of almost all his connections to the physical plain, left only with that tiniest fraction of character, the only testament to his individual consciousness, the freedom of choice - which, ironically... he is meant to ultimately surrender... to a greater force.” (13) The irony lies, of course, in the fact that our protagonist is nicknamed “Will”, yet everything in the film occurs against his will.
            Many novels, films and traditions tell the story of the hero who must sacrifice himself to serve greater responsibilities, and this is no different.  If the fate of humanity, as the Rain Tents put it, depends on the success of Willard Morven’s mission, then he has no choice but to accept it.  And if that responsibility involves the surrender of all capacities and choices in order to achieve a higher form of existence, a life of unimaginable capacities – then one would argue that the submission of one’s freedom of choice is worthwhile.  This is, in fact, the story and tradition of many religions, particularly Eastern.  Islam is founded on the belief that submission to God’s will, even in the face of adversity, leads to a more satisfying life.  The fantasy created in the universe of Transient is perhaps a metaphor for the very real, yet fragile experience that we somehow try to escape and simultaneously prolong, during this precious existence.

 

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