My response to a comment got so long I thought I would use it to increase my blog numbers.
Some things that are art or created can have beauty. A humanly created thing can be more beautiful than real life.
The blob of wax in a psuedo complex story may be ironic. Usually it is an incidental outcome. Rarely is this intended. Just because something is ironic, doesnt give it quality. It doesnt even give it a justification for the outcome. Irony for what purpose? A movie which spends its time creating a fanciful scenario only to turn it into the absurd, simply on the premise of the silliness of it all is simply poor. One may see the logic or the reason or the purpose of it. Nevertheless, to tell me it is silly, fails to capture an interest. Irony can be used with much more ability than these display. Futility can be conveyed with greater strength and conviction. And if at the end of a movie, whose aim is to give a message of the silliness of it all, you are left with only that one thing, how pitiful is that?
As for critics, the job of testing the taste of critics will necessitate you watching many movies anyway. Identifying a critic who aligns with you can take a lot to achieve. Perhaps you missed a lot of what I was saying. I didnt spend $18. And i didnt say it was all crap. And there was no heartache. I am open to exploring things and critiquing that which I think is not good. I can choose to read books or listen to music even though some may suggest something negative about them, because I know I can read or watch it and draw my own opinion from it or apply my own set of values and criteria to it.
Are we to be people who only do what we are told? To be robots acting on a protocol determined by another?
So this is it: I saw a movie and thought the ending poor. I have seen others, which have also ended poorly, as if the writer just gave up trying to conclude a web he or she had woven. The point is not whether or not this shows irony or displays the silliness of it all. Anyone can create a story and then have it all end up as one massive explosion, killing everyone. I have read hundreds of children's stories which do exactly that. So when I go to a cinema, I expect not to see those same childish stories acted by adults. As I said in my previous blog, you may like these kinds of endings, but my point is that they are poor endings which reflect on the lack of quality of the writing.
Should we aim to achieve mediocrity because we can't cant replicate the creator?
Should we accept an unsatisfying outcome because it shows irony and might be the point of the writer? Certainly not. Will an outcome satisfy or give resolution if it atleast has irony or a silliness message? Not for me, I have a higher expectation.
Has anyone actually ever found one critic whose opinions always align with yours? I doubt it? And then again, how would you be certain if you never watch one against their recommendations?
So, there.
Saturday, 5 May 2007
of messy knots and crappy endings
I write tonight on a theme I will no doubt return to again. I think I see things differently to others. About movies I mean. I'm not alone in how I see them, of course. Its about personal satisfaction. Its about the plot and how it interconnects. And most of all its about the ending; about how the constructs of a story support a conclusion.
Imagine a messy bundle of multicoloured string. Not a neat 'fresh from the haberdashery' ball of string, but a tangle of threads in an apparent random arrangement. From a few feet away, the bundle has many different colours. You can make out one or two ends, yet you look for more ends, since there are many different colours: red, white, black, orange, yellow, brown and purple. The threads touch at points, suggesting connection. After observing it for almost two hours, you can see that it is indeed one piece of string, painted many different colours and made to look like many threads woven together.
Your attention is now taken by something behind you. Another ball of thread. This has one end visible and so you hold it. This is neater and better packed together. It seems deliberately entwined. As you unravel the thread, new ones emerge. Sometimes they just appear, at other times the unravelling thread reveals the new end. After two hours, you reach the last bundle. At the end, the threads are fused together with a giant blob of wax. The connection is vague. Rather than seeing the ends of the string your vision is obscured by a blob of wax.
Some people might like the messy bundle of string. They may enjoy the many colours and the patterns their jumbling has caused. Others may enjoy the journey of unravelling, of seeing new patterns or new threads. They may enjoy looking at a pattern and seeing where those lines have been drawn from. For me, a bundle of threads of different colours is something substantial if the different colours are real different threads, rather than colours painted on a line. otherwise you enjoy an illusion. And for me, to simultaneously trace different intersecting threads yet not see the final weave, obscured with a clumsy, shapeless blob is to fall short of a promise.
A new word: unresolution. It refers to movies that have a thread they cannot weave to a point, or to films that pretend to have much complexity but are masks of simplicity. Unresolution is where the plot fails to deliver what it promises.
Perhaps you are a person who likes this kind of unresolution. I see it as a weak device. This is not to say that there have to be happy endings, nor does everything have to have an ending, since life continues, and movies represent but a small part of that continuity. However, I am saying that a movie should be what it pretends to be. It is rarely important to know where the threads came from. Usually these are revealed early on or they are somewhat inconsequential. What may matter more is where they go and how they end?
My disappointment is not really with the movie. After all it is a construct. It has been designed. My dissatisfaction is with the constructor, the designer. They have placed the threads together, not randomly, but deliberately. And it is they who control what is promised and what is delivered. They who are unable to deliver what throughout the movie they promise: a solution to their own puzzle. Like a child who throws a ball on a roof where no-one can get it - and for what? It proves nothing apart from their ability to throw a ball. Or like an ill-tempered man who tips the chess table before the game is concluded. Some may look on in amusement. However, the amusement is with the man not the main spectacle. Those who came for the game are left somewhat cheated.
Tonight I saw a movie which had elements of complexity, detail and plot. And then, when you expected a twist, the twist was that there was none. When you expected an equally complex resolution to the problem, a primitive and shallow one was offered.
Many movies, perhaps all, have as their central theme a problem in need of solving. How well the movie does that will determine its unresolution. If it does it poorly, it can be said to be unresolved.
Perhaps this demands a sequel. Who knows, I may even introduce a prequel after my sequels have run dry.
I wonder about the thread of my life. Are things apparent and not real? Is there illusion and facade? What of the interconnectedness? What of its design and designer? Will my threads end in a blob of wax or do the threads weave nicely together? Will someone cut them all before i have the chance to see them woven as one?
Imagine a messy bundle of multicoloured string. Not a neat 'fresh from the haberdashery' ball of string, but a tangle of threads in an apparent random arrangement. From a few feet away, the bundle has many different colours. You can make out one or two ends, yet you look for more ends, since there are many different colours: red, white, black, orange, yellow, brown and purple. The threads touch at points, suggesting connection. After observing it for almost two hours, you can see that it is indeed one piece of string, painted many different colours and made to look like many threads woven together.
Your attention is now taken by something behind you. Another ball of thread. This has one end visible and so you hold it. This is neater and better packed together. It seems deliberately entwined. As you unravel the thread, new ones emerge. Sometimes they just appear, at other times the unravelling thread reveals the new end. After two hours, you reach the last bundle. At the end, the threads are fused together with a giant blob of wax. The connection is vague. Rather than seeing the ends of the string your vision is obscured by a blob of wax.
Some people might like the messy bundle of string. They may enjoy the many colours and the patterns their jumbling has caused. Others may enjoy the journey of unravelling, of seeing new patterns or new threads. They may enjoy looking at a pattern and seeing where those lines have been drawn from. For me, a bundle of threads of different colours is something substantial if the different colours are real different threads, rather than colours painted on a line. otherwise you enjoy an illusion. And for me, to simultaneously trace different intersecting threads yet not see the final weave, obscured with a clumsy, shapeless blob is to fall short of a promise.
A new word: unresolution. It refers to movies that have a thread they cannot weave to a point, or to films that pretend to have much complexity but are masks of simplicity. Unresolution is where the plot fails to deliver what it promises.
Perhaps you are a person who likes this kind of unresolution. I see it as a weak device. This is not to say that there have to be happy endings, nor does everything have to have an ending, since life continues, and movies represent but a small part of that continuity. However, I am saying that a movie should be what it pretends to be. It is rarely important to know where the threads came from. Usually these are revealed early on or they are somewhat inconsequential. What may matter more is where they go and how they end?
My disappointment is not really with the movie. After all it is a construct. It has been designed. My dissatisfaction is with the constructor, the designer. They have placed the threads together, not randomly, but deliberately. And it is they who control what is promised and what is delivered. They who are unable to deliver what throughout the movie they promise: a solution to their own puzzle. Like a child who throws a ball on a roof where no-one can get it - and for what? It proves nothing apart from their ability to throw a ball. Or like an ill-tempered man who tips the chess table before the game is concluded. Some may look on in amusement. However, the amusement is with the man not the main spectacle. Those who came for the game are left somewhat cheated.
Tonight I saw a movie which had elements of complexity, detail and plot. And then, when you expected a twist, the twist was that there was none. When you expected an equally complex resolution to the problem, a primitive and shallow one was offered.
Many movies, perhaps all, have as their central theme a problem in need of solving. How well the movie does that will determine its unresolution. If it does it poorly, it can be said to be unresolved.
Perhaps this demands a sequel. Who knows, I may even introduce a prequel after my sequels have run dry.
I wonder about the thread of my life. Are things apparent and not real? Is there illusion and facade? What of the interconnectedness? What of its design and designer? Will my threads end in a blob of wax or do the threads weave nicely together? Will someone cut them all before i have the chance to see them woven as one?
Thursday, 3 May 2007
to conquer a mountain
When a person, no, a mountaineer, climbs a mountain and reaches the summit, we say they have conquered the mountain. Reach the summit of K2 and you have conquered the most formidable of mountains. When at the summit, however, you should not stay long, lest the conditions kill you.
I have never reached the summit of a mountain. A landlord of mine many years ago talked of his mountain climbing feats. At the age of about 50 (my estimation, not his disclosure) he had managed to climb the highest peak of every continent.
http://www.everestnews.com/seven.htm
A fairly impressive feat for a former 'head of corporate banking of Bank of America'. A redundancy from that position helped finance his last summit climb. To reach the summit of Vinson Massif or Mt Everest is a remarkable feat. One in ten people die attempting to reach the peak of Chomolungma! And yet for all of this, can we really declare that they have conquered the mountain?
So is this really conquering? Can a mountain really be conquered? Perhaps they have been permitted to reach the top, only to appreciate its size and majesty?
I wonder if those who manage to reach the summit of K2 believe or would even suggest that they have conquered it? Wouldn't respect be a prerequisite and humility be a product?
I have never reached the summit of a mountain. A landlord of mine many years ago talked of his mountain climbing feats. At the age of about 50 (my estimation, not his disclosure) he had managed to climb the highest peak of every continent.
http://www.everestnews.com/seven.htm
A fairly impressive feat for a former 'head of corporate banking of Bank of America'. A redundancy from that position helped finance his last summit climb. To reach the summit of Vinson Massif or Mt Everest is a remarkable feat. One in ten people die attempting to reach the peak of Chomolungma! And yet for all of this, can we really declare that they have conquered the mountain?
So is this really conquering? Can a mountain really be conquered? Perhaps they have been permitted to reach the top, only to appreciate its size and majesty?
I wonder if those who manage to reach the summit of K2 believe or would even suggest that they have conquered it? Wouldn't respect be a prerequisite and humility be a product?
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