It's my brother's Hebrew name: יונה. I heard it and mythologically my ears pricked up, especially when we learned she could see on the other side of doors.
I guess I'll just have to fanon that the miraculous train also has a miraculous passenger safety system that would allow for unsuspecting people without anything resembling seatbelts to survive a tumbling fall into a ravine. And unsuspecting fish.
I figure quite a lot of people are dead, but I really feel the metaphor just falls over if it's everyone. Maybe some of the cars were moving slowly enough that people just got very bruised, not outright splattered.
My real problem with guns on the train was their existence in the first place, with ammo or without: if the outside world was so cold when the train started that exposure to the atmosphere froze the first escape attempt mere feet from the train, and is still cold enough that timed exposure to the atmosphere is used as a fairly gruesome punishment, why did anyone bring projectile weapons on board? The risk of punching holes in the fragile shell of metal that stands between the last remnants of humanity and a nasty ice-nine death—equalizing the atmospheres, letting in the cold—hardly seemed worth the capacity to put down armed revolt, especially when it's made clear within the film that most of the train doesn't use guns anyway. I thought it was an actual plot point when we had shots breaking glass and nobody picked up frostbite from standing too near the cracks.
[edit] The twist with Gilliam really didn't work for me—I was willing to believe that they had started out working together, but I couldn't square any of Gilliam's later behavior with a continued partnership, especially considering how many limbs he was missing. I was much happier believing that Wilford was just yanking Curtis' chain in order to bewilder and more easily persuade him. It was shocking in the moment (or would be, if this genre of film didn't prepare its audience for betrayal at any level), but unsupported.
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It's my brother's Hebrew name: יונה. I heard it and mythologically my ears pricked up, especially when we learned she could see on the other side of doors.
I guess I'll just have to fanon that the miraculous train also has a miraculous passenger safety system that would allow for unsuspecting people without anything resembling seatbelts to survive a tumbling fall into a ravine. And unsuspecting fish.
I figure quite a lot of people are dead, but I really feel the metaphor just falls over if it's everyone. Maybe some of the cars were moving slowly enough that people just got very bruised, not outright splattered.
My real problem with guns on the train was their existence in the first place, with ammo or without: if the outside world was so cold when the train started that exposure to the atmosphere froze the first escape attempt mere feet from the train, and is still cold enough that timed exposure to the atmosphere is used as a fairly gruesome punishment, why did anyone bring projectile weapons on board? The risk of punching holes in the fragile shell of metal that stands between the last remnants of humanity and a nasty ice-nine death—equalizing the atmospheres, letting in the cold—hardly seemed worth the capacity to put down armed revolt, especially when it's made clear within the film that most of the train doesn't use guns anyway. I thought it was an actual plot point when we had shots breaking glass and nobody picked up frostbite from standing too near the cracks.
[edit] The twist with Gilliam really didn't work for me—I was willing to believe that they had started out working together, but I couldn't square any of Gilliam's later behavior with a continued partnership, especially considering how many limbs he was missing. I was much happier believing that Wilford was just yanking Curtis' chain in order to bewilder and more easily persuade him. It was shocking in the moment (or would be, if this genre of film didn't prepare its audience for betrayal at any level), but unsupported.