As members of the human race, the concept of language is a way to enrich our lives and our ability to communicate with each other. We can express to someone else our intents, our needs, and our desires. Or can we? Is it possible that, in having a conversation with another person, we can conceivably communicate something entirely different than we originally intended? This is the kind of stuff that Ludwig Wittgenstein and Jerrold Katz could pore over for days. Particularly in light of the fact that we have evolved into a society of extreme political correctness and scrutiny over our words and deeds.
There are many aspects at play in David Mamet's amazing Oleanna, and I've watched the film and read the script several times now, but language as a concept -- and its many uses and abuses -- continues to linger at the forefront of my mind with each subsequent viewing. The reason it is so prevalent to me is that, in reflecting back on the actions that the two principal characters take, they have all been initiated or guided by the phrases and dialogues that provoked them.
The film stars William H. Macy as a university professor named John. He is on the verge of being granted tenure by the committee board and has planned to purchase a house in light of the good news. Debra Eisenstadt plays Carol, a young student from one of his classes who has come to his office to question a mark she has received on a recent paper. "I don't understand", she tells him, when asked what part of his course is causing the confusion. The trouble is, the class that John teaches involves a unique stance concerning the myth of higher education. In explaining his position on the futility of higher education, he uses examples that Carol interprets on a personal level and ultimately launches a sexual harrassment complaint against him. The two try to come to a common ground, but neither seems able to resolve the slippery slope.
The infuriating and ultimately rewarding theme of the movie becomes the fact that either side could conceivably be in the right or in the wrong. It's a lot easier for guys to associate with John and for women to associate with Carol, but the moment one tries to justify the side one has chosen, things get complicated. For those on Carol's side, a strong argument can be made that men never seem to be aware of the consequences of what they say and do; they aren't challenged in the authority roles that are seemingly awarded to them without thought. Those who side with John could easily say that although his actions may or may not have been inappropriate, he certainly did not intend for them to be interpreted the way that Carol did; they were merely the cause of a misunderstanding, for which John could gladly promise not to do them ever again. But director David Mamet doesn't let us off that easy, particularly in light of the film's conclusion. Whichever side you take, you're still wrong.
In truth, Oleanna boasts five star dialogue, as electrically charged and as compelling as any debate could ever cause. I have knocked a half star off the rating because the movie isn't as intense as the stage play version, and because there are moments when Debra Eisenstadt comes close to missing a step with Macy. However, these are points that barely merit mention, because when all is said and done, the film leaves far more to contemplate, reflect on, and, ultimately, debate about with someone else.
