Formal Film Study: Steven Spielberg

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom

The Color Purple

Empire of the Sun

 The theme of lost innocence (that is eventually regained) is one of the threads that ties these three films together.

This motif undoubtedly leaked its way into the forefront of both The Color Purple and Empire of the Sun, which allowed me to make the initial link. Its obvious prominence in the first two films led me to hope that Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom would provide the same result so I could have a concrete connection to focus on in this blogpost. At first, I appeared to have no such luck — Indiana Jones is a full grown man: capable, admirable, and adventurous throughout his journey. But who says the main character should be the one embodying the main theme? (everyone) Sure, he risks his life to rescue famine-stricken villagers and liberate thousands of child slaves from the nefarious goddess Kali, whose followers have stolen the sacred Shivalinga in order to intensify the power of the dark night and ultimately destroy human purity as we know it...but is he really all that important? For the sake of being cohesive, let’s go with not at this very moment. The plot’s real value stems not from Jones’ own actions, but from those who are being impacted by the decisions he ultimately carries out. That is where the loss of innocence comes into play. Ah, the benefits of individual interpretation.

So now that I’ve managed to stretch that theme right into my third and final film, we’ll start with The Color Purple.

    The Color Purple follows the life of Celie, who has been physically, mentally, and sexually abused into submission by those who are supposed to love and protect her. After bearing her father’s two children, Celie is tossed into the hands of Albert. It is clear that this marriage is not comprised of compassion and affection, but fear and desperation. Happiness briefly takes the place of hopelessness when her sister visits, but this, too, fades quickly. When Shug Avery, Albert’s mistress and “true love”, comes to stay at his home, there is an obvious shift that begins to occur in Celie. The two women’s relationship grows stronger each day that they’re together, and Shug eventually helps Celie recover letters that Celie’s sister, Nettie, has been sending her for decades — letters that Albert has kept hidden away. Nettie is one of the few people that provides happiness and support to Celie, and this discovery leads to a sense of courage and motivation within herself. Celie finally leaves her abusive husband. 
It’s evident where lost innocence comes into play — Celie never had a childhood. Twice pregnant by fourteen and married off a year later, all she ever got to experience were hardships, and all she ever knew was “how to tell a lie.”  However, in this film, it appears that lost innocence is regained. I became most aware of this as I honed in on how Celie was portrayed before and after her discovery of Nettie’s letters (which spurred the shift from oppression to freedom). The younger Celie was silent, and expressed the majority of her thoughts and feelings through her “letters to God.” Also, she was often separated from others in one way or another: signaling to Nettie through windows, waving to others from behind a fence. Celie was never truly looked at, which was emphasized through her often being depicted as a shadow — she was never seen as just a child or just a girl, but as an ugly, worn-out housemaid, which is where her loss of innocence is evident. The most prominent way in which she begins to harness this sense of innocence again is through her conversation with Shug: “I think it pisses God off when you walk by the color purple in a field and don’t notice it.” Shug instills in Celie the importance of appreciating every bit of every day in one’s life, which is exactly what Celie wasn’t given the opportunity to do early on. As she found the strength to escape the ones who kept her eyes down and her mind closed, the opportunity to enjoy every aspect of life presented itself. 

    Empire of the Sun also emphasizes lost innocence that is re-established in a bit of a crooked, morbid way. Jamie Graham did have a childhood (at least more so than Celie). However, it was never filled with the simplicity one assumes a childhood should; Jamie was overprotected and overprivileged, spending his boyhood in Shanghai International Settlement, constantly stimulated by luxury. The film takes place in 1941, shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor. The Japanese begin to occupy the Settlement, chaos ensues, Jamie is separated from his parents and forced to remain in his now abandoned home. Eventually he is discovered and taken in by an American sailor, Basie, and a few of Basie’s friends. In order to keep from being abandoned once again, Jamie utilizes the only knowledge he possesses — where the men can locate opulent jewels and furnishings that fill the homes surrounding him. The wandering group is eventually found, captured, and taken to an Internment Camp, and this is where the idea of lost innocence comes into play. 

It is obvious that Jamie’s innocence was robbed of him during this invasion, but he, too, experiences a resurgence of this as he establishes a familiar way of life in the very unfamiliar circumstances: Jamie allows Dr. Rawlins, the camp’s medic, to develop into a makeshift father figure, and he befriends a Japanese boy from the other side of the camp, one with whom he can discuss his fascinations and aspirations. In a way, one could be convinced that the very situation that stripped away Jamie's innocence also provided the framework to his construction of a more inventive way to experience his surroundings, reflecting the expansive imagination a child often possesses.  
Given the bleak environment, there is no room for his usual cushioned, isolated way of thinking that wealth provided. Jamie had to be independent, he had to work thoughts and ideas through his head with no influence or assistance from the outside, so he had to escape into fantasy to better manage the brutal reality of his circumstance. A few examples that stuck out most in my mind were Jamie’s reaction to Japanese warplanes attacking an internment camp — the odd celebration of a surreal, dream-like scenario, and continued evasion of truth through his detached discussion of the ownership of the runway. Also, Jamie's newfound perception of death — in his mind, he holds the ability to resurrect those who have already passed. This certainly isn’t a conventional resurgence of innocence, because it was brought on by traumatic external pressures, but Jamie did uncover a part of his mind that provided  shelter from hardened reality. No, he did not have a completely innocent mind, but he learned to cope with reality in a pure, child-like manner.

We are so caught up in the idea that childhood is the only time in one’s life for observation and admiration of simplicity, that only in this critical period can one find herself noticing the color of each flower in a field, or find himself playing “God” in order to heal loved ones. Spielberg seems to enjoy introducing familiar, comfortable concepts and developing them in a way that forces the audience to evaluate its most unexplored components.

    Now, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom does embody the idea of stolen innocence being regained, though it has little to do with the main character, and more to do with those he is fighting for. Without getting into too much detail as to why Indiana Jones is there, the villagers he comes across have been plagued with famine; their plight has been linked to the increasing “power of the dark night” held by the Palace of Pankot. Within this palace is the Shivalinga, a sacred stone stolen from the villagers in order to appease the evil goddess Kali.

   As an audience, we tend to be very hyper-aware of the main character’s thoughts and actions, and tend to focus less on what’s going on around him or her. In the case of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, those in the background were absolutely essential in forwarding the storyline; therefore, we should provide them with just as much attention. There is a much more concrete “loss of innocence” moment in the villagers’ lives, which is when the Shivalinga** disappears. This stone, one of five, was appointed by Shiva to a man named Sankara, who was given the message that he must “go forth and battle evil with it.” The Shivalinga brought prosperity to the village, and was a complete representation of their most vital beliefs. Evil is the corruption and pollution of mind and body, so if the purpose of the Shivalinga is to destroy the evils of the world, it must be a stone of purity. Therefore, the loss of the stone signifies the loss of purity, or innocence, within the village. There was not only a loss of purity through the abduction of the Shivalinga, but also of the village’s children. Luckily Jones makes it his duty to travel through this Palace of Kali worshippers, and after eating monkey brains, and drinking Kali blood, and watching a man’s heart being pulled out of his chest, he succeeds in bringing back the lost innocence to the village once again. 

** http://indianajones.wikia.com/wiki/Sankara_Stones