Tim's sitting at his desk, pondering. Dawn walks by and touches his neck just a bit. Tim chuckles a bit, but then just looks at her, confused. It's an interesting scene because it seems to suggest Dawn has the upper hand, choosing to touch Tim a bit and just walking by. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but either way, it's a little touching even for me that their obvious mutual love has turned into awkward little worldess gestures, since neither of them can do anything about it.
Timterview. He says he didn't ask Dawn out as a date, which we've all heard before. He claims he was trying to make her feel better because of the fight with Lee. Right, because he did say "Now that you broke up with Lee," which totally means, "Since Lee's giving you a hard time, can I make it up to you?" He continues, "Under different circumstances, sure, something might have happened but..." Then he fumbles his way thru the sentence "You can't change circumstances", stuttering and not seeming to know what he wants to say. He makes one of those "I'm disappointed but I'll try to look like I never wanted this anyway because I'm a good grateful boy"-poses, not facing the camera to mask his true feelings. It seems like season two Tim is this completely resigned guy who stayed at Wernham Hogg because he's too coward to go to university, and he's too coward to be honest about his feelings in front of everyone, so he'll date Rachel who attracts him on a superficial level, and then just as he dumps Rachel, Dawn's leaving and it's too late. I can sort of see why it leads to the desperate leap he makes now.
Suddenly Tim just gets up and says, "Excuse me." The camera wobbles as it follows him down the hallway. He asks Dawn into the meeting room and takes off his microphone. And then they talk, and the camera follows them from behind the Venetian blinds. Sure, we've seen Brent behind his Venetian blinds, so it's not something completely new for the show, but it does give a nice documentary feel that they can just choose to take off the microphones and have a life outside of the documentary too. Tim talks. Dawn looks really sad. They hug for a long time, and Dawn looks away longingly. Tim walks away without looking back and Dawn looks after him still with the sadness in her eyes. In total silence. It's a very powerful scene, and a realistic one. Dawn rejects Tim out of loyalty for Lee, who totally doesn't deserve it. And this happens in real life too, and it's a good conclusion for their story, and in my opinion it was a cop-out to make the Christmas special and have them get together. Yes, it was what the viewers wanted to see, which is exactly why they shouldn't have done it. Keep it painful, keep it a non-conclusion, because that's how life is.
Tim, looking like he's about to cry, sits down at his desk. He turns the microphone back on, and we suddenly hear the mishmash of office sounds again, which seems downright disturbing after the silence. "She said no, by the way," says Tim straight into the microphone, and then just looks away from the camera almost tearily. This is when the viewer feels like an itnruder, like the cameras went where they weren't supposed to go, and filmed something very private between two people. And might this be a commentary of documentary crews and pushy TV shows about private things? Yes, it might. Brilliant scenes there.
Back to the main story, then, the fall and decline of David Brent. Jennifer and Neil sit down opposite to him in his office - still his for a fleeting moment. "You alright, David?" asks Neil politely, but not too cordially. "Yeah, fine. You?" says David in a downright positive tone. He's apparently decided to walk tall and keep his flag up high through all his ordeals. "Good. Small talk done," he says, which is kinda blunt and silly, but also shows that he wants to be in charge of the discussion. "Um, everyone really appreciates what you've done," says Neil in a faltering voice, as if he's sad to let David go. "Do you?" asks David, trying to belittle the compliment, which probably wasn't entirely honest anyway. He puts his arm on the desk and looks at Neil in a challenging way, just to show that he's still boss in this room, if only for today. Jennifer looks uncomfortable. Neil decides to get the point. He shows David a sheet of paper with the "redundancy offer" there. Well, as David established earlier, it's not a real offer, is it? Just call it a golden handshake like everybody else. David glances at it as if it's hard for him to see the written proof that he's really being let go. And it probably is. "More than I expected," he says. "We've been quite generous," says Neil. Well - what does that mean exactly? That they're giving him more than he deserves? That they're so noble even if he's been a terrible employee? I don't think that's what he's trying to say, but to an over-analytical recapper, it comes off this way. "Bada bing," says David in an inflated, sad tone. Awww. Neil suggests that David leave on "the 3rd, which is a Tuesday". Nice and vague, could be any month, any year. Yet it sounds like a real conversation about a real date. It's a small touch, but I like it. Neil asks if David wants to come back to the party on Friday. "Whatever," says David looking at his desk.
And now follows the saddest moment ever on The Office, at least for me. Dawn and Tim aren't as sad; they took a risk, and Dawn made a choice, and they can live with that even if it hurts. But David just doesn't get it. He doesn't see what he's done wrong. He doesn't understand his negligence and poor leadership skills, his utterly unprofessional attitude on everything. He just feels rejected, alone, and meaningless. It's obvious when Neil shakes his hand and he grabs it: "Don't make me redundant." He casts down his eyes as the camera zooms in on him, but he can't help but beg. "Please." Neil looks genuinely sad and compassionate. He's a good guy. "Look, David...," he starts, but David starts desperately babbling: "I've changed my mind, I don't want this, I don't want redundancy. I haven't signed anything." Yes, but they fired you. It's not really your place to say anything. The decision has been made. You practically begged for it earlier with the defiance of Neil. "Well, David, unfortunately this isn't really up to you. Sorry," says Neil sadly. As much as I despised him in the episode where he was being lewd and drinking it up with Finchy, I must say I admire him here. He's firm but kind, and he doesn't seem to take any pleasure in David's demise.
But David isn't done yet. "Alright then, well I'm asking. Please don't make me redundant." He's beginning to look like he's about to cry, now that he can see how final this is. "You can... you can talk to someone, Jenny." Jenny, kindly yet firmly: "The wheels are already in motion..." But David's desperate and he'll continue, even if it makes no sense: "No, stop them, cos..." Neil decides to put an end to it: "David, we will not discuss this now..." David: "No, put just say it's not definite now. Before you go. And we can... I will try twice as hard. I really will. I know I've been complacent and all. I'll turn this place around if you just say that it's not definite now, and then we can... You know, not go in until... Just starting from now. Starting from now." It's obvious that he's fighting back tears now. Jenny looks at him compassionately. Neil looks down, but then glances at Jenny and looks at David, as if he's gained his composure. He seems more affected by this speech than Jenny, maybe because it was his decision. Maybe, like all good people, he's going over everything in his mind and asking: Could I have stopped this? If I had acted different towards him, if I had given him a little more patience... Dead silence as Jenny and Neil look at David, and he's still hunched over his desk, begging them.
That was one powerful scene. And yes, David behaved in a ridiculous way, but I can't laugh. It felt like watching a tragedy unfold. Obviously the job means everything to David, and losing it means losing his whole life. He screwed it up, but he doesn't really understand how or why. Do I believe he deserved to be fired? Yes, absolutely. He's a terible boss and the employees deserve better. Tho writing that I'm not sure they do - most of them seem to be doing a bored, half-assed job anyway. And do I believe he'd turn it around? No, I absolutely don't. He'd get cocky and pretend he fought against Neil and won, and he'd treat Neil even more like dirt later on. Maybe he knows this. Maybe Neil knows this too. I feel a lot of compassion for David, but I also feel justice ws served, and that he should suck it up because he brought it upon himself. It's hard to be 100 % compassionate to someone who's caused all of his problems himself and never took the time to think before it was too late. Or maybe we should really be more compassionate of a person who's so totally lost?
The last of the David interviews. "Life is just a series of peaks and drops." We see the employees working as David talks. We see the boredom of the office. We see Dawn leaning on her desk, looking like she's lost the chance of a lifetime, saying no to Tim. David says you don't know if you're at the bottom "until you're climbing out, or on a peak until you're coming down." That's actually unusually clever of David. We see Tim looking ahead of him as if with blind eyes, unable to focus on work or anything, because his heart is broken. Awww, poor Tim. "And that's it, you know, you never know what's around the corner." Now we see David, red-faced and tired-looking, forever trying to justify everything he does. "But it's all good. You know. Um, 'If... you want the rainbow, you've gotta put up with the rain.'" Nod to the camera, the old look of complacency again, knowing he's said something truly wise. And as usual, it's not that wise. "Do you know which 'philosopher' said that? Dolly Parton." Glancing at the cameraman and interviewer to see their surprised looks. "And people think she's just a big pair of tits." He looks at the camera in disgust, as if those people are so bad, even if he's the one who just suggested that Dolly Parton is just tits, and a) mentioning it and b) saying it in that way isn't exactly a sign that he completely disagrees. I love him. Our own oblivious, self-aggrandizing, ignorant hero. One of the truest characters ever.
In the last scene after the credits, we see Dawn staring ahead as the phone rings. She doesn't even seem to notice at first, then she picks it up and says tiredly, "Hello, Wernham Hogg." Life goes on, even if your heart is broken. Even if Dawn leaves, someone will continue to answer the phones at Wernham Hogg. The company moves on, even if the employees are replaced.
Wow. This was a great finish to the show. And yes, I will recap the Christmas specials, I just don't think it's the same anymore. To me, this is the true ending of the series, this bittersweet sadness that rewards the viewers with realism instead of happy endings. I loved it.
I think I'm going to do the deleted scenes still today and go on with the Christmas specials in a few days. After the Christmas specials, I'll do the brilliant Microsoft videos. I will miss recapping the show itself though. I feel like writing THE END here, but it isn't. So it's see you soon from me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment