Regardless of its reputation as pretentious and narcissistic (which is an unfair generalization), Indie film has an essential place in current American filmmaking. After Spielberg blockbusters hijacked the mainstream of Hollywood, the quality of mainstream films has plummeted in the last 30 years, and thus Indie film has taken its place as the serious forerunner of major artistic statements in film. Beloved films like “Pulp Fiction,” “Memento,” “The Usual Suspects,” “Requiem for a Dream” and “Donnie Darko” are just a few examples of good Indie films. These are all over 15 years old and yet remain household names because they are well crafted, thought-provoking, articulate films. Compare that to “Jurassic World,” “Avatar,” the “Transformers” series, “The Hobbit” trilogy, etc., films that grossed huge amounts, but frankly, are sh*t. They recycle ideas from films who had the audacity to innovate and use huge budgets to draw in the summer blockbuster crowd. Sure, there are some great blockbusters: “The Dark Knight” (not its sister films) or “The Lord of the Rings” trilogy, but they are rare, and few would claim them as major, innovative artistic statements. Compare to the prior system, where films like “Rear Window” and “The Godfather” had the ability to become the top grossing films of their year. That would never happen now. I would go into a continued epistemology of mainstream’s film’s decline, but that is a book, not an article. All I want to get across is that there are a lot of excellent indie films, and that it is currently a necessary commodity for the advancement of film. This brings us to Gus Van Sant’s “Elephant,” which is an excellent, necessary statement that would never have been made in the mainstream. The subject matter is far too controversial, and how it goes about making its points is far too minimalist. The film is designed as an objective, even apathetic, look at life in a public high school in a single day. The film achieves this effect by long, tracking takes that follow the students around. The camera remains close enough that the viewer gains little outside of their perspective. The viewer is forced to see and hear everything they do, but nothing else.

For those unacquainted, “Elephant” is a roman á clef of Columbine. That is not a spoiler; the film is open about the impending massacre. In fact, the film is transparent about its goals: depict a typical day disrupted by an atrocity. What makes the film so good is that this, coupled with the camera, make the film a look at tragedy in slow motion and thus achieves a dense tone of indifference juxtaposed with the horrific shoot-out. This tone also creates a tension that makes watching their interactions incredibly difficult to watch. The portents and cutaways foreshadowing their deaths make watching them that much more painful. This dichotomy, the viewer having this prescience, yet the oblivious bumbling about of the students make their concerns seem so petty, and drenches these mundanities in melancholy. The shooting itself does not waste its potential to shock and horrify. This film is almost a rejection of Tarantino in its declining to stylize the violence. It makes the shooting that much more jarring. The floating camera, once matter of fact, turns the shooting surrealistic in its realism.

Van Saint opts for an ensemble cast, which is odd considering the 80 minute run-time. The premise puts the director between a rock and a hard place. He gives each person about six to eight minutes to flesh them out and give them unique personalities, but then switches focus. In order to flesh out the characters properly, the film needed to be significantly longer, but the mundane interactions are not interesting enough to hold the viewer's attention much beyond the current length, and even in its current form draws complaints of glacial pacing (at its current run time, this is captious). Van Sant made the best of this double edged sword, and his choice for a single day snapshot is well executed. The short vignettes of the various high schoolers say plenty about them, though they are still a little wooden (in particular, the trio of girls feel forced), which displays the full power of the abject, unwavering camera trained on them. One problem is that he was caught up in the fad to add repetitions of actions to reflect chronology, after the audience sees an interaction for the third time it gets old.

Many reviewers either criticize or praise the film's lack of commentary on the shooting psychologically, socially, politically or otherwise, however, I disagree that the film remains neutral in this way. What Van Sant highlights through his voyeuristic camera is a school in a state of myopia and selfishness. Everyone is solely concerned with themselves: the geeky girl is self conscious about her body, the trio of girls about fitting in, the photographer’s obsession with his craft. John (John Robinson) seems to be the only person with any introspection or contemplation, and he both survives the shootout in a telling way as to his personality, and is easily the most likable character. People aren't paying attention to each other. No one ever sees the signs that the two killers are in such a macabre state, and I would go as far so say that more people wouldn't be in such a place if everyone was more concerned with others’ well being. I think the singer Marilyn Manson, who received a lot of criticism for his dark lyrics in the wake of Columbine, concisely described the problem both depicted in “Elephant” and reality: “I wouldn't say a single word to them. I would listen to what they have to say and that's what no one did.”