James Griffin: The reality of our dreamworld

James Griffin. Photo / Dean Purcell

Thanks to the vagaries of the Auckland weather I went to see the blockbuster film Inception a while ago. Not exactly breaking news, I know, but it was kind of exciting for me.

I was meant to be flying from Napier to Auckland, after being a good son and visiting my mum for a few days, but when I got to the airport I was greeted by that one word you never want to see on the departures board: cancelled. You just have to love the fact that we, the human race, have all this technology at our fingers and opposable thumbs so that we can defy gravity but when nature (in the form of an accumulation of water droplets suspended in the air plus a distinct lack of wind plus vicinity to airport) decides to take hold, no one is going anywhere.

So I had to re-book a flight for much later in the day, which gave me a window of time that needed to be filled. I'll go to the movies, I thought, and leapt aboard the first available taxi. As it turned out, I scored the best taxi driver in Napier because halfway through the journey he decided to ditch the incessant squawk of the taxi radio in favour of putting on a tape of Tony Joe White singing Polk Salad Annie. Then, when I said "wow, Tony Joe White, Polk Salad Annie, I love this song," he proceeded to crank up the volume and we rocked into Napier with the stereo blaring. I think if the journey had been 10 minutes longer and not at 10.30 in the morning he would have rolled up a joint, just for the road.

I mention this for only two reasons: (a) it was kind of cool at the time; and (b) it meshed perfectly well with the fact that when we did get to the multiplex-like theatre complex in downtown Napier and I walked in, I was bang on time to walk into the 11am screening of Inception, one of the trippiest films I have seen in a long time.

Now it's not my job here to review Inception. Nor do I even want to delve too deep into its plot, apart from the widely known fact that it is about people who go into other people's dreams in order to mess with their heads. It is a film about that state we've all experienced where what is going on in our brain as we sleep seems incredibly real, up until the moment we wake and realise it was a dream and nothing makes any sense.

But because it is an American blockbuster film, the dreams in Inception seem to be all about shooting and cars crashing and stuff like that - which is nothing at all like the dreams I dream. Is this a Hollywood box-office thing? Or is Inception actually a filmic reflection of the American dream-psyche? Or am I simply having the wrong sort of dreams? I am driving a car. There are some people with me in the car. I know them, but not that well. We are going to a park for a barbecue. We get to the park and the gates are locked. Then we realise we are at the wrong gate, so we drive to the right gate.

I am at home, during the day. I hear the sounds of a party next door. I look out the window and there are people on the lawn, chatting and drinking wine. My neighbour is someone I know, but not that well. They are mowing the lawn as the party goes on around them, unperturbed by the lawn-mower. The neighbour waves at me.

I am in a house I have never been in before. But I am not allowed to leave the house because I am sick, even though I don't feel sick. This explains why I am wearing a white dressing-gown. The owner of the house comes in. They are someone I know, but not that well. They are carrying some boxes and they talk to me about things I don't understand, so I open a window.

No guns, no car chases, nothing explodes. Inception has already made about a billion dollars worldwide, whereas I think the collective box-office for a film about my dreams would be about $20.

Unless of course, Inception doesn't actually exist and I dreamt I was in Napier, at the airport, trying to get home but my flight was cancelled. So I caught a taxi and the taxi-driver played a song I liked as he took me to a cinema, where I arrived just in time to see a film called Inception, which was all about people having dreams.

Now right there is a film I'd almost pay money to see.