Director imagines school shooting

The title of a film usually foreshadows what the viewer can expect to watch for the two-hour duration (e.g. "Dawn of the Dead" translates into "zombie film"). The title of Gus Van Sant's latest film, "Elephant," (still in pre-DVD limbo) leaves the viewer wondering - barring the possibility the viewer is up to date on aphorisms - if they'll be watching a re-run of Animal Planet or a film chronicling the life of Dumbo. Not to reveal too much, but neither subject will be tackled in the film. No, Gus Van Sant delves into a much deeper subject - although Dumbo had some outlandish adventures. "Elephant" is Van Sant's rendition of the Columbine shootings. Don't groan "here we go again" just yet. Van Sant avoids melodramatics and rising stars, instead using first-time actors, along with an unconventional narrative style to relate a seemingly normal day in the lives of students at a high school in Portland, Oregon. Van Sant strips the film of emotion to keep from labeling a distinct problem that leads to teenage violence, and he refuses to provide a solution. The viewer meets many students throughout the film and each seems to be symbolic - but Van Sant never concedes a didactic meaning. The first two students the viewer meets are John (John Robinson) and Elias (Elias McConnell). John seems to represent the quintessential "I have problems but don't go committing acts of violence" teenager, while Elias loves photography and exudes confidence even though he is the eccentric type, showing that eccentricity does not always make someone an outcast. Students continue to be introduced but most important are the two eventual killers - Alex (Alex Frost) and Eric (Eric Deulen). The previous bios have only been surface level but the viewer is given a slightly deeper look into the killers' lives. However, no solace can be found in them. The viewer watches in horror while the boys play Doom-like video games and have front door delivery of tech nines (guns). A dreary picture is painted but shining through it all is Eric's piano performance. The camera spans his room as he beautifully plays Beethoven's "Fuer Elise," leaving the viewer to wonder if peer ridicule alone can be the cause of such catastrophic behavior in the mind of such a talented young man. But the viewer is still searching for a safe haven, a character to confide in, to no avail. The utter detachment of Alex and Eric is terrifying, and a voice-over, or dramatic confession of "why?," is left unsaid. The boys run rampant, picking the students off at every corner, acting it out like they're soldiers. At the outset of the film, the viewer is intent on figuring out what the title means, but quickly plunges into a hopeless, documentary-style film that leaves many questions unanswered. But the meaning of the title is really evident all along, much like the elephant in the living room that goes ignored - a problem that people put aside for so long that they eventually can't see it at all. But if the public labels Eric and Alex the "elephant," America still has a pachyderm on its couch. Grade: A