#10. Doc Brown, Back to the Future
What is not exotic or mysterious is the method of its conception. Whilst changing a light bulb in the bathroom, Dr. Emmett Brown fell and struck his head upon the toilet. And then he saw it. The Flux Capacitor. Time travel.
A brilliant step forward in human progress, all made possible by what a great thing it seems to be to hit somebody on the head.
What nine other head injuries could possibly confer greater benefit to an individual or to humanity?
Head injuries are often wonderful things in the world of fiction, so there are a lot of choices. But the real top 9 are after the jump…
#9. Isaac Newton, Apocrypha
Isaac Newton is one of my favorite apple-related semifictional characters — right up there with William Tell, Will Hunting and Johnny Appleseed.
His discovery of gravity did not lead anyone to do anything as crazy as forcing his father’s rival to drive into a pile of manure or making out with his mom (though Isaac’s persistent mercury poisoning and attendant real-life madness probably did something similar), but it did lead to all sorts of marvelous innovations, from vacuum tubes full of feathers and tennis balls falling at the same rate to the Atari game Gravitar — which without gravity would have only been a lame version of Asteroids, as opposed to a really really hard, lame version of Asteroids.
The next time reverse gravity forces you to crash your spaceship into an invisible landscape (if that’s what the kids are calling it these days), thank the fictional apple that fell from the fictional tree onto Isaac Newton’s semifictional head, birthing the theory of universal gravitation, Athena-like (no, that doesn’t make the countdown, but good guess!), into the world.
#8. Gaara of the Sand, Naruto
Never has a blow to the head solved more complex, pernicious emotional problems than for the Sand Ninja Gaara in the “people you know secretly watch this because they love it, but they don’t trust you enough not to hate them for it, so they don’t tell you about it” manga/anime Naruto. At a key point, while possessed by the demonic tanuki (or raccoon-dog) Shikaku, Gaara is viciously headbutted by the protagonist, like so:
This accomplishes a remarkable number of things.
Before the headbutt — Gaara is a sociopath who murders people by strangling them with sand (that he controls with
During the headbutt — At one point in the story, the Sand Ninjas launch a surprise attack on the Leaf Ninjas, and Gaara fights several of the protagonists in a nearby forest, overcome by rage and eventually fully possessed by the demonic tanuki inside him (which first takes over his body, then moves outside of him and becomes as big as a mountain). The titular Naruto, with the help of the boss of the frog Yakuza Gamabunta, has no other recourse but to deliver a vicious headbutt (see above).
After the headbutt — Gaara stops murdering people (or even really raising his voice at them), becomes an ally and admirer of those who headbutted him, learns the value of friendship, rekindles new relationships with his brother and sister, and becomes so exemplary a citizen that he is chosen to be Kazekage, the Chief Executive of the Sand Ninjas — all more or less immediately, all before the age of 15.
He’s still the host for the evil one-tailed tanuki monster, but it seems to go from “driving him constantly, murderously insane” to “just kind of chilling out.”
No offense to the many psychiatrists and psychologists who frequent OTI, but such a turnaround would not be possible through psychotherapy or pharmaceuticals. This singular headbutt is notable not for its broader benefit to society, but because of the grand scope of its effect — the number of intractable problems it mysteriously and simultaneously solves.
It might be tough to get it covered by an HMO, but it looks like a pretty great treatment.
#7. Henry Turner, Regarding Henry
- Whereas Gaara was only a bloodthirstry psychopathic ninja possessed by a demon, Henry Turner is a lawyer.
- Whereas Gaara only needs to stop murdering people, Henry Turner has to learn to spend time with his daughter and eat Ritz crackers.
- Whereas Gaara needs to repair the relationships across two of the five great ninja villages, with his own homeland’s ruling council, and with his brother and sister, accomplished ninjas in their own right, Henry Turner needs to repair the relationship with his wife.
Appropriately, the means to save Henry Turner are also that much more extreme. Whereas Gaara only gets butted in the head, Henry Turner gets shot. Regarding Heny‘s place on the list, the trauma and blood loss from the shooting causes brain damage and drives Henry to rediscover life and love. If Henry had merely suffered a life-affirming concussion, this would be higher.
If you like Naruto, I would definitely recommend Regarding Henry. It’s the 1991 feel-good movie of the year, and it is a darned shame it doesn’t have Naruto’s commensurate global fan base and voluminous online libraries of erotic fanfiction.
Also, and I just noticed this, Regarding Henry was written by J.J. Abrams (?!), which explains the smoke monsters.
#6. My dude named FART, Final Fantasy III (or VI, if that’s how you roll)
The world needs to be saved from a maniacal, iron-fisted Empire and its power-mad vizier usurper, and only a plucky party of four adventures, drawn from an equally plucky larger group of about 12, can accomplish the task.
One of these guys looks kind of like Guile from Street Fighter, and he’s very powerful, because I let him walk around and punch random forest animals for three weeks.
But lo, my enemy has detected his strength and vulnerability — and has used its mystical powers to “confuse” him. He has robbed the mightiest of my warriors, FART, of his free will and forced him to attack his comrades whilst spinning around with a green circle on top of his head. The combined might of my other warriors is no match for FART.
Only if somebody hits FART in the head so he doesn't kill the whole party.
This would spell the end for the Latter-Day-Light-Warriors and their crusade against Kefka, not to mention Ultros the evil narcissistic octopus, if it were not for the remarkable power of hitting somebody in the head.
All I have to do is hit FART in the head, and the magic is dispelled, he regains his composure, and he once more joins my party so that I can spend twenty minutes figuring out which of the hundred different kinds of gauntlets he’s carrying I can sell for spare change.
The world is saved!
(I’ve always been a bit CONF myself at CONF effects in Final Fantasy. My party members always seem less “confused” and more “enjoying the game playing for the wrong team for a little while.” So, it’s actually kind of cool sometimes, except when your party dies.
And if Final Fantasy characters have one thing in spades, it’s single-mindedness of purpose. Those guys will keep doing the same thing over and over longer than Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer. So it seems odd that, as soon as the right sort of enemy shows up, my OCD “FIGHT MAGIC DRINK ITEM RUN” dudes start stabbing their friends, if only because it’s such a departure from their usual routine.)
#5. Charles, Charles in Charge
By Season 4 of Charles in Charge, Scott Baio’s character, who does not even have a last name, confronted a life going nowhere. He was no longer the new boy in the neighborhood. He lived downstairs. It was understood he was there just to take good care of these demanding tweens, sassy teens and irrational adults — like he was one of the family. Which he wasn’t.
Just look at the despair in his face.
And he was saddled with an unfulfilling relationship with the WASPy and unaffectionate Jocelyn Brooks. Were Charles ever to move out of the basement and get a real job, he could look forward to an unfulfilling, unaffectionate marriage to Jocelyn, full of still more demanding and sassy family members causing bizarre problems, only interrupted by alternating afternoon cocaine/Bible parties with Buddy Lembeck.
He was in charge of the days. The nights. The wrongs. The rights. And it was all wearing him a little thin.
Possessed by severe anxiety, Charles finds fortunate release when he strikes his head in the downstairs washroom. The chains binding his mind and soul blast asunder. Instantly, his world and personality are transformed. Charles becomes “Chazz.”
After that singular blow to the head, Chazz was a new man, with an entirely new personality. He stood up for himself. He followed his instincts. He stepped away from the cultural homogeny of the Powells and came into his own. He greased his hair, liked leather jackets and made scowly faces. He said really cool things like, “Aw, ma, why you gotta bust my onions?”
He also followed his heart, leaving the preppy Jocelyn Brooks for the exotic and sexy Tiffani Kovacs, who, due largely to her Polish heritage, was looked shunned by the xenophobic and bigoted Powell family — and by drug-addled Republican Willie Aames.
But Chazz didn’t care about all that, because Chazz was finally free. He married Tiffani and lived a new life — a life where his role was not only in name — a life where he really was In Charge . . . of himself.
#4. Dorothy, The Wizard of Oz
She didn’t just take an allegory about 19th century agrarian populism and separate it enough from the source material that it could later be re-imagined into a totally different allegory about the coming-of-age experiences of adolescent women. She didn’t just set up the bright and cheery “before” picture for Judy Garland’s late-career contrapasso.
She also converted the entire world from black and white to color.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzVA974TWaQ
The initial effect was not permanent — as the immediate affect of the head-wound wore off, the world eventually returned to black and white. But Judy Garland spent much of her life in self-destruction, and, sure enough, the effects of Dorothy’s lapsarian injury eventually took hold across the world, so that the previous world of black and white only persisted in the most boring and pretentious corners of existence.
#3. Chazz, Charles in Charge
When the man known only as Charles left their suburban lives rudderless and their weekly problems intractable by transforming into the sharp-tongued, irresponsible greaser Chazz in the fourth season of Charles in Charge, the Powell family knew there was only one step they could take to restore their lives — only one blow to strike that might bring the prodigal au pair back home.
Just look at how much fun everyone else is having!
They needed to bonk Chazz on the head. No doubt familiar with the centuries-old rule that the only thing sure to reverse the effects of a head injury is a second head injury (hair of the dog and all that), the Powells took it upon themselves to save Charles, reunite him with his beloved Jocelyn, and restore their microcosmic society, pulling him back into the fold as a lamb that has lost its way.
Sure enough, when they bonk him on the head, he returns to normal. The circle of concussion is complete. And thankfully, the Chazz and the bad influence, Tiffani Kovac (seriously, between Charles becoming “more Italian” as Chazz and Tiffani being a Polish-American skank, there is some really weird racism in these episodes), turned out to have been married by an officiant with fraudulent credentials, the marriage was annulled, and Charles was “free” to return to Jocelyn.
The controversy continues today in academic circles: Which is closer to the Good? Charles as Chazz, or Chazz as Charles? If we were afforded the opportunity to change our own lives, memories, loves, or level of fondness for Newark, New Jersey (where Chazz chooses to spend his honeymoon, years before grounbreaking on the beautiful NJPAC), would we do so?
This is particularly relevant to Back to the Future Week, by the way, which is still going on way back on our homepage.
If we were Charles, would we be more fully actualized, emotionally, morally, and spiritually, within the constraints of our lives as they are, or liberated into brasher, more confident, more daring Chazzes of our own? Or do we all have Powells of our own in our lives to whom we owe the duty of restraint — and of not hitting ourselves in the head and drastically changing our personalities?
If we were the Powells, would we be justified in cranially thwomping this Chazz to save our own way of life? Does Chazz have a negative right not to be struck in the skull? Or does Charles have a positive right to be protected by his countrypersons from his baser instincts? Can we even begin to make meaningful distinctions between those motives that are “base” and those that are “elevated?”
Charles in Charge would wrestle with these complex questions through Seasons 4 and 5. Charles would be struck on the head no fewer than six times, in no fewer than four episodes, each time oscillating from the Apollonian to the Dionesian, from the assimilated to the ethnicized, the “good Charles” to the “evil Charles.”
If this were a top ten of “Moral ambiguities presented by split personalities on family sitcoms,” Charles/Chazz would rank at the very top, just edging out Stefan Urquelle.
But in the context of this countdown, blows to the head #2, #4 and #6 to Chazz outrank blows to the head #1, #3 and #5 to Charles, because, especially on this week when we remember the late great Ricardo Montalban, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few . . . or the one.
Charles is in his basement, all's right with the world.
#2. Harry Osborne, Spider-Man 3
There are countless times in the fake history of the human race when somebody has been hit on the head and forgotten really important, implausibly specific information. Spider-Man 3, a forced and premature effort in a franchise much in need of a fallow season, was, for the most part, one of those times. The amnesia subplot plot was awkward, and the movie was pretty common and mundane all around.
Why then, does it rank so high on the countdown?
Because, for a brief moment in this movie, the bloat steps aside and we see its real heart — we see the very purest benefits of being hit in the head really hard (which is starting to sound like a better and better idea — I’d better finish this countdown before I give into temptation!).
That’s right — when Harry Osborne is struck on the head, forgetting his obsession with revenge, forgetting his supervillainy, forgetting even his own history, there follows, of all things, an omelet-making montage:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8l354vhJ9no&feature=related
One wonders why he forgot nearly everything meaningful about himself from the last few years, but he didn’t forget how to make omelets. Perhaps it was a temporal thing — the retrograde amnesia from the trauma only reached back to about the middle of the first Spider-Man movie.
This book is full of interesting stories about real brain conditions that don't generally involve omelets.
That would be consistent with drab, uninteresting, “scientific” notions of what happens when you suffer brain damage, as distinct from what we know really happens, which usually involves discovering what life is really about, getting a cooler, more ethnic nickname, or shrugging off the curse of a giant demonic raccoon.
I rented and watched Spider-Man 3 with my little sister, who was 16 at the time. By the time the omelet-making montage came up, I had lost most of my interest in the movie and was openly mocking it. During the montage, though, I looked over at my sister, and her face lit up.
I considered it again. The smiling, cooking, dancing around with dashing, cheeky James Franco, the utter domestic bliss of Kirsten Dunst, untainted by subordinating gender roles. The corny music. The over-the-shoulder camera angles. At that moment, my mind got a little broader, and I learned something precious.
“Hey,” I asked, “Is this what it’s like inside a teenage girl’s head all the time?”
After a quick, irrepressible giggle, she answered with certainty.
“Yes.”
And she laughed again, and smiled.
It’s between more than a bit late and more than a bit early for most of us to make of this revelation, but in case you were ever wondering, there it is.
#1. Leonard, Memento
Hopefully, you do not share this painful memory.
Sure, it led to a great deal of personal suffering for poor Leonard, but if it weren’t for his suffering a major headwound and accompanying anterograde amnesia that sent him on a lifelong nonlinear quest to find his wife’s killers, Guy Pearce would be primarily remembered as “That Guy from The Time Machine.” Instead, is primarily remembered as “That Guy from Memento.”
I can think of few finer gifts a human being ever received.
But The Time Machine was made after Memento, so (getting back to the theme week) there must be some sort of temporal paradox — Memento both prevented Guy Pearce from being remembered for The Time Machine and allowed The Time Machine to be be made in the first place.
Maybe The Time Machine sucked so hard that it actually went back in time and sucked before Memento was made, allowing Memento to atone for a mistake that did not yet exist.
Or maybe Leonard got hit on the head so hard that everyone in the world lost some of their ability to form new memories — of The Time Machine.
Memento also launched Christopher Nolan’s career to a new level, leading to both Batman Begins and The Dark Knight, which, if you ask Guy Pearce, is just gravy.
And hey, if Memento Guy hadn’t been hit in the head, he wouldn’t have any of those cool tattoos!
That’s gotta count for something.
Probably for the best.
Special thanks to Lindsay Nordell for whacking me upside the head with some of these ideas.