Friday, January 18, 2008

Follow your Dreams

What makes a good movie?

A good friend once told me he uses the cinema as an escape from reality. He was willing to overlook the selectively destructive tendencies of the microwave emitter in "Batman: Beginning", or the over-simplified alarm systems in "24", or the general bias that bullets always seem to have in favor of the hero in any action film, because, as he pointed out, if he wanted realism, he could have chosen to act or observe in the real world. He was a film buff, and in fact worked in film - set-building, story-boarding, I don't know what else. He could not watch a movie without commenting on the director's idiosyncratic methods, the previous and subsequent accomplishments of all the major and minor actors, and the varied effect of any and all films which inspired/influenced the work, as well as a critique of the camera work, lighting, etc. At times I pitied him, as I saw his world of imagination intersecting more and more with his reality. Where then could he escape to?

At the time I marked only on what we saw differently: I spurn movies and other creative works which gloss over or mis-portray what I see as part of what makes life worth living: the many, small details we have to juggle, some of which you can safely ignore, while others must be dealt with - either offering an advantage, avoidance of a pitfall, or both. The complexity of many-party relationships, maintaining a directed ambition over a considerable length of time, or learning to trust again after disappointment - in yourself, your ideals, your friends, your god. Without these, I feel I can't connect to the characters. They don't exist in the same condition as I, and so, somewhat egocentrically, I feel they have nothing to offer me.

I think my film-maker friend and I are really not so different. We both want to see the hero succeed against all odds, bolstering the part of us that says we can get the better of our challenges too. He wants to see the posterized, white-on-black conflict, with no distractions to muddle the scene. He then applies that to his own life, where the challenges are so different, yet on a personal level just as urgent and decisive. I want to see the hero so position himself as to be able to focus fully on what is at hand, all else previously accounted for, and needed preparation thoughtfully made in advance. Perhaps because I know if I could do this, my larger goals would then be within reach.

The Human Condition is so deceptively simple. From a religious birds-eye view, it can be traced with simple curves and clear endpoints. But the finer nuances of the experience are what add both anxiety and opportunity to mix. The chance to understand something, to answer a fundamental question, to put two pieces together we didn't know were related. But the effort required to understand is often prohibitive to learning by accident. If the question is asked, if the pieces, with all their strange corners and impressionistic colors, are displayed and studied, it can help to direct the effort to understand. The medium of film can be such a flexible conduit for these ideas and perceptions. It approaches the natural experience as visual and auditory stimuli, as well as the inexorable chronometric progression which we are so familiar with, as it sweetens the good times and makes the hard times bare-able.

I watched Ratatouille today. I had formed a low opinion of it on account of the slap-stick trailer selections I had seen. But it kept well within traditional Pixar standards of prioritizing the story above all else. It is the story of a rat - a rat who aspires for more in life than what his station would dictate, and who's passion to make a creative contribution to the world he lives in opens doors, and points out opportunities which may otherwise have come and gone without ever a passing thought. The final thought we are left with is that while not anyone can (or will) become great, greatness can come from anywhere, be attained by anyone. The viewer is tacitly encouraged to look inside himself, and ask, or rather, decide, if he is one who will be great.

I think we all have a passion to make a difference. A positive difference. Will we give heed to that passion, or allow the carnal nature to muffle and overpower it?

No comments: