Roadmap to Revolution: ‘V for Vendetta’ 15 Years Later

March 17, 2021

“And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission.” – V

The year is 2020. The world has been ravaged by disease. Society becomes complacent with curfews and constant surveillance in an attempt to foster a feeling of security. The media becomes an echo chamber, all speaking with one voice dictated by an establishment governmental regime. Freedom is becoming less free…

No, I’m not waxing philosophical on what happened in the real world last year. I’m setting the stage for the 2006 film V for Vendetta. Based off Alan Moore’s incendiary graphic novel, which took aim at Margaret Thatcher’s regime as Prime Minister, and adapted for the Bush-era by the Wachowskis, V for Vendetta paints an evocative and pensive portrait of anarchy and revolution in the face of fascism.

In 2021, 15 years after its initial release, V for Vendetta holds a very special place in the echelons of art foreshadowing society – up there with 1984 and Brave New World – and offers with it a map for revolution…should we ever need one.

The film sets itself up as a mystery/thriller revolving around Evey Hammond (Natalie Portman), a young, career-driven member of English citizenry ruled by the Norsefire Party and Supreme Chancellor Sutler (John Hurt). Evey, caught after curfew by some of the Chancellor’s goons, is saved by V (Hugo Weaving) – a mask-wearing vigilante in the court of Monte Cristo and alliterative soliloquist with plans for revolution. Brought into his anarchist world after witnessing his destruction of the Old Bailey, Evey must overcome her fears and confront the society which has stripped its own citizens’ liberties in the name of safety and security.

On the other side of this grand design, V has his own personal agenda bleeding into the revolution. He knows the Norsefire Parties’ secrets, including many in the inner circle, and enacts his own vengeance for their wrongdoings. In this, V is an agent of destruction, and though through his crimes Inspector Finch (Stephen Rea) unearths the sinister events surrounding exactly how Sutler was able to seize and maintain power – through fear of disease and war which is party manufactured. Supreme Chancellor Sutler is democratically elected after the concocted panic to ensure the security of the people. And that security? Well, it resembles a bit what the Capitol building looks like now: armed guards patrolling for broken rules and broken curfews.

In the world of V, society accepts the loss of liberties to ensure safety in the face of death.

Philosopher Thomas Hobbes proposed this in his philosophies of government: government power is justified by consent. And human nature fears death above all else. Essentially, the only way government can take totalitarian power is through the consent of public, and the public will only consent through fear of death, believing government can ensure their security.

That’s how fascism is born.

But V for Vendetta doesn’t stop with its startling commentary on how totalitarian regimes are made. It dives into the radical possibility that human nature, in its fear of death, holds one value more important than security. A value that gives purpose beyond security. It’s the value that causes Evey Hammond to mace a police officer in her office building. It’s the value that sees a young girl in a Guy Fawkes mask spray painting symbols of counter-culture on government walls.

That value is liberty.

The film is rife with the celebration of hidden liberty in the face of censorship and martial law. Stephen Fry’s Dietrich, an eccentric late night talk show host, keeps a secret room with subversive items and art, including a Qur’an and Sex Pistols meets Andy Warhol portrait of the Chancellor. His room is a physical manifestation of his own secret sexuality, which must be hidden from a conservative regime that demands homogeny. It mirrors the movie posters of Valerie (Natasha Wightman) in V’s hideout, whose love of another woman threatened the party proper and landed her in a cell. Dietrich’s own attempt as subversion lands him black bagged and presumed dead…all for the sake of a joke at the Chancellor’s expense. The ultimate cancelled culture.

The film offers antagonists that are pure portraits of villainy. Tim Pigott-Smith gives his best Dick Cheney impersonation as Chancellor’s right hand, Creedy. Roger Allam channels Rush Limbaugh in his portrayal of “voice of Britain” Lewis Prothero. Bush-era icons deliberately placed in their time, and yet their portrayals have become timeless representations of power and propaganda. In that, there’s a certain amount of ironic joy that comes from watching John Hurt on his Big Brother-esque big screen clamoring about why the public needs him piggybacking his appearance as attempted revolutionary Winston Smith in 1984’s film adaptation of 1984.

The Bush-era allusions are part of the reason Alan Moore, writer of the graphic novel, distanced himself from the project (the other part falls back on The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen [2003], which effectively destroyed his relationship with Hollywood adaptations of his work). Commenting that he was not consulted on the script, the version he read was too heavy-handed and Americanized. Moore said of the script:

“They [Americans] don’t know what British people have for breakfast, they couldn’t be bothered. ‘Eggy in a basket’ apparently. Now the US have ‘eggs in a basket,’ which is fried bread with a fried egg in a hole in the middle. I guess they thought we must eat that as well, and thought ‘eggy in a basket’ was a quaint and ‘Olde Worlde’ version.”

Essentially, Hollywood takes ideas and bludgeons them into an Americanized narrative, alleviating the story of any subtly or history from the original work. The bad guys are bad, and the good guys are good. Good for them.

But I think it’s important to note that, even both the film and graphic novel, V himself is not the good guy of this story. It may be easy to think the disruptor of a fascist regime is the hero, but his actions are those of a terrorist. He singles out and assassinates those who have wronged him, issuing vengeance instead of justice (see title: V for Vendetta). V is merely the catalyst to the greater movement. However, he is heroic in that he understands that he cannot be the one to pull the lever that levels Parliament. It is the remarkable piece of revolution: one man cannot stand and say what is right, especially one of a revenge mission. He must exude the idea, open people’s eyes, and inspire them to action. In this, Evey becomes the surrogate of the people. Relatively unremarkable prior to her encounters with V, Evey comes to represent a freedom from fear: pure liberty.

The film is the directorial debut of James McTeigue, who had previously worked as a 2nd unit director on The Matrix trilogy also with the Wachowskis. He gives the film a style ripped from the pages of the graphic novel and immersing us in civil dystopia. Though the direction is nothing spectacular, it serves its purpose as expository – showing the story unfold before its audience. It doesn’t need to be more than the lighting and lens. Some critics have echoed Moore’s lament of emphasis on violence and brutality in the film adaptation, but looking back, the philosophical impact is not lost on audiences who reap the rewards of interpreting and being inspired by V.

It’s an enduring message of what it means to be fearless in the face of fascism. It started with Guy Fawkes masks popping up at Occupy Protests. V for Vendetta graphic novel artist, the man who created the masks, David Lloyd, said in an interview in 2011, “The Guy Fawkes mask has now become a common brand and a convenient placard to use in protest against tyranny – and I’m happy with people using it, it seems quite unique, an icon of popular culture being used this way.” We’re still not sure how it will end, or if V for Vendetta will serve as a constant reference point for the counter culture.

The film opened on March 17th, 2006, despite being scheduled for a November 4th, 2005, release in honor of the 400th anniversary of Guy Fawkes Night, and quickly took the top spot for the weekend with $15m gross domestic. The cult nature of the film only grew from there and, as Harry Guerin wrote in 2006, V was becoming, “a cult favourite whose reputation will only be enhanced with age.” With the 4K edition released November 2020, I think many people are still ruminating on V for Vendetta’s impact.

At the very least, it’s likely you’ve seen someone on your timeline posting “Remember Remember, the Fifth of November…” every year for the past 15 years. My guess is, they’ll keep posting for many years to come.