In Kevin Stoehr’s book Nihilism in Film and Television: A Critical Overview from Citizen Kane to the Sopranos, the opening chapter defines nihilism and details the difference between a passive and an active nihilist. The final paragraph of that chapter summarizes the distinction well.

Through the rise of Christianity, the European Enlightenment, and the nation-state, the modern age became more and more defined by a collectivist slave-morality. As Nietzsche points out, there are indeed only two escape routes for those individuals who will not conform blindly to some abstract “common good” that levels everything that was formerly unique and inspiring to mere averageness. These individuals can either rise above the crowd as creators of their own values (active nihilists) or else sink into the dark and life-negating abyss of passive nihilism.

david thewlis as johnny

David Thewlis as Johnny

In Mike Leigh’s Naked (1993), Johnny (David Thewlis) walks the line between the active and the passive nihilist. Johnny is a character so despicably likeable that it becomes too easy to dismiss him, and the rest of the film, with a simple, sweeping negation. Naked certainly unveils a misogyny that runs through modern urban life, but the film itself does not deserve the misogynistic label, which is more apt for those Hollywood rom-coms that portray a female character who must find a man to fulfill her needs or desires. Depiction and intent are not the same thing. The film makes this clear from the opening scene, leaving enough ambiguity about the action taking place without telling the viewer if it is right or wrong.

The two primary male characters, Johnny and Sebastian (also called Jeremy), do not treat women well. The brutality, however difficult it is to watch, is true to their opposing positions in the world. Sebastian occupies a position of power, depicted by wealth and status. Sebastian maintains his position through domination and humiliation. Johnny, on the other hand, is powerless, and while he shares in humiliation of his fellow human beings, it comes from a need to connect rather than dominate.

Johnny functions as a mirror, showing people how they are victims of a world that has no compassion for their plights. This plays out through Johnny physically and verbally. Even when Johnny himself becomes a victim, he knows it’s just part of the cycle. As Johnny himself says in the film, he fled Manchester to avoid a beating and got one in London instead. As much as he can’t avoid what’s coming to him, he gets it anyway. This, viewer, is what you have coming to you.

Don't let him in.

The film unfolds through Johnny’s encounters with other people. He arrives in London at the flat of an old girlfriend but meets her unemployed roommate Sophie (Katrin Cartlidge) instead. Sophie falls for the quick-witted Johnny instantly, and they engage in (consensual) sexual intercourse after Johnny lambasts his old flame Louise (Lesley Sharp) when she comes home from work. Johnny’s disdain for Louise’s new life hints at his own hurt over their former relationship. It’s a familiar tactic used by men to mask their feelings.

Sophie becomes a bit too attached to Johnny, forcing him to flee their flat for the cold world outside. Out on the street, he encounters a Scottish man looking for his girlfriend. The entire sequence between the three outsiders on the street is one of the best of the film. It not only reveals Johnny’s more compassionate and playful side but also his understanding of the meaninglessness of his act of helping the Scottish runaways find each other.

Johnny moves on again

After Johnny’s efforts to do good are ruined by the ignorance and selfishness of those he helped, he is left without any acknowledgement of his kindness. This scene exemplifies the underpinnings of Johnny’s caustic nature, which unfortunately plays itself out with those closest to him. How often are we kinder to strangers than to those closest to us? Johnny represents this notion in the extreme.

It is only when the tables get turned on Johnny that a sense of compassion toward his character is able to form. Yet just as that compassion gets warmed up, his brutality shines through again. After a long scene where he trades theories of life with a night watchman, Johnny visits the watchman’s object of interest: an older woman across the street who dances alone in front of her apartment window. Johnny pays her a visit while the night watchman looks on from his darkened office building. Johnny’s actions leave them both feeling violated.

Johnny meets his match.

The watchman, like the viewer, is not amused by Johnny’s behavior. When the watchman ends their brief relationship over breakfast, Johnny quickly finds someone else to engage in his game. The quiet and sultry waitress at the cafe is initially intrigued by Johnny, silently allowing him to follow her home. Johnny provides her with an invitation to let him come in, which she takes.

Once inside, however, Johnny tones down his attitude, almost reaching out to this quiet, dark woman. He uses his wit to get her to open up, but she only opens up a can of beans. For the first time in the film, Johnny meets someone who is able to disarm him through her own silence. Her face seems to hide something that Johnny can’t unearth. And just as he is settled and cozy, Johnny gets a taste of what it is like to be on the other side of falling for a person who can only push you away.

Are you with me, love?

Johnny’s London getaway continues its decline, but he doesn’t let that stop him from taking a piss with the recently returned third roommate back at the flat where his adventure started. There is even a brief moment that seems to break the fourth wall, almost a wink at the viewer who is watching closely enough. Johnny, perhaps, has been playing with all of us.

Mr. Thewlis read extensively in order to bring Johnny to life but, unfortunately, made him a bit too much of a religious kook rather than a philosophical kook. While I appreciate the excellent work that David Thewlis put in to improvising Johnny’s dialogue, I would have made some changes to his reading list. If he had read Nietzsche instead of Nostradamus, the result would have been more powerful and more in line with the character’s actions.

Johnny’s nihilism comes off as a cruel joke, but on nobody in particular. Johnny provoked the other characters by tearing apart their ideals, yet his prophetic rantings could also be easily torn apart. Unfortunately, Johnny did not sink to the depths of a nihilist who has devalued all values. Instead he chooses to hang on to a few cherished notions and myths, which is perhaps why he found himself in so much trouble.