by Joel
#74 in Best of the 21st Century?, a series counting down the most acclaimed films of the previous decade.
The films of Zhang Ke Jia are like time-lapse images transforming both slowly and rapidly before your eyes. Finally what you’re seeing at the end (of a shot, or particularly in this case, of the movie) bears little resemblance to what you saw at the beginning, though the route of this change is not easily re-traceable (“how did we get here?” could be the epitaph to each of Jia’s films). This transformation is slow because Jia’s camera takes its time. In Platform there are no reverse shots, no close-ups, and almost no cuts during scenes (I can think of at least one exception: the provincial theatrical touring group rushes up to an elevated railway in a desolate landscape; suddenly we are on the tracks ourselves, facing away from the train which is rushing off behind the camera, while we stare into the cast’s faces as they grin and wave, exhausted). The transformation is also rapid, however, because so much happens within a fixed time frame or spatial plane: a building dissolves into dust (or takes off like a space rocket) in Still Life, a mini-universe is revealed by the ascension of an elevator in The World (a film less defined by fluid long takes than Platform or Still Life, though they are still a part of the texture), in Platform hearts are broken and futures fixed in a lovers’ discussion which ends with one character proclaiming (ever time-conscious) “You’re too late” and walking away. If that last transformation seems less dramatic than the previous one, don’t be fooled. Within each shot, in itself a miniature movie, Platform fixes its gaze on a moment, albeit one always in flux (as moments always are). But over the movie as a whole, there is a more rapid physical and spiritual transformation than anything in either Still Life or The World. That’s because Platform takes as its subject the still-bizarre mutation of China from a totalitarian communist workers’ state to a semi-capitalist ultra-modern society in the 1980s. An obsession with transformation and mutation are not only aesthetic strategies in Platform, they are the very meat of the film, its text, context, and subtext. Here, form and content fit together perfectly as hand in glove, which is good, because nothing else in the film is so easily malleable.
When Platform opens, the grainy cinematography is enveloped in darkness (Jia would seem to have shot on not particularly sensitive 16mm film, though the only technical details provided by IMDb read “printed on 35mm”). We are in a village with a touring troupe, performing a Maoist pageant exuberantly to an enthusiastic audience (at least that was my perception; others have described them as indifferent and bored – it’s hard to say since everyone seems compelled to clap). The Cultural Revolution is a few years in the past, but we are obviously visiting a society defined by that movement’s aftershocks. Yet there are cracks in the facade. Cui Mingliang (Wang Hongwei) gets on the bus long after everyone else has boarded, and he’s berated by the troupe leader, asked if he knows what collectivization means. But Mingliang hardly seems concerned and in the next few scenes we see him adopting bellbottoms, defining himself as an intellectual worker rather than a physical one, and standing out from the crowd dressed in their blue slacks, workers’ coats, and peasant caps. He’s a harbinger of things to come – before long, the previously severe and dogmatic troupe leader is relaxing, telling the actors that they will soon be incorporating pop music (which he carefully and humorously describes as relaxing and enjoyable) into their routine. Further into the film, this rather opportunistic individual has become laid-back and genial with his troupe, his entire attitude shifting dramatically in the space of a few years and some major reforms.
General societal changes are mentioned in the dialogue, occasionally in obviously expositional ways, at other times more subtly. As Deng Xiaopang’s “Open Door” policy facilitates Westernization and the shift to a market economy on a national scale, we see the transformation before our eyes in ways spoken words could only hint at. The sharpest transition occurs when we’re inside Mingliang’s dark home (there’s no electricity in early scenes) and his mother shows him a postcard sent by travelling friend Zhang Jun which reads, “The world outside is great!” (here we cut to a close-up of the card, one of the few cuts and close-ups in the film.) The next sequence is the sunniest so far in the movie; it appears to be a summer day, and Mingliang wanders into frame wearing a tank-top, slinging a BB gun which he casually points in the air, while children chant playfully in the background. A foreign rock song wafts through the air, and Zhang arrives carrying a stereo, dressed as colorfully and casually as Mingliang. As the neighborhood youths gather around the traveller and his music, we see that all of them are clothed in sporty gear, their behavior suddenly loose and seemingly carefree. In the invisible space between these two scenes, the village of Fengyeng has undergone a radical shift.
This is not to suggest that liberalization is portrayed in purely positive terms. If the early world of the film seems cold and forbidding, it quickly becomes clear that the “new world” contains some of the same problems, and new ones to boot. There is not only the poignancy of seeing an old world pass away – a millennia-old Chinese culture gone with the wind (not to mention a rigid Communist ideology which had in itself required major adjustments) – but also the sense that what is replacing the previous life is not solid or tangible. That the “new China” is somehow chimerical, the loss real but the gain hard to get a fix on. Jia hardly romanticizes Maoism, and it is part of his film’s triumph that he does not set up a false dichotomy between the past and future, in which one is a desirable Eden, the other the Fall (or, put another way, one the fettered police state, the other a free society). It seems pretty clear that the characters, particularly the younger ones, want out of the repressive and stagnant village life shown early in the picture, due partly to the restless energy of all youths, partly to the ideological rigidity and paranoid that quite literally oppresses them. Yet it’s worth remembering that alongside economic growth and cultural free trade, China maintained a dictatorship – and that somehow beneath the dynamic changes in the surface of these lives and places, the characters are still not truly in charge of their lives or the path their country can take.
As for the film’s form and structure, it reminds me of a musical performance where, one by one, different instruments are swapped out until by the end we are hearing an entirely different sound – yet the change was so gradual we cannot fix one point at which the complete change occurred. Even before that scene I mentioned earlier, there are moments when a girl gets a perm, when there are arguments about books being read; and after that scene, the troupe still performs the propagandistic road shows, idiosyncratic as they may have become. By the conclusion of Platform, this has changed too, and now rock guitarists and go-go dancers have taken the stage, where they perform the title song. “Platform” is first heard in a parked van as the performers wait for a passing train to approach; here it is pregnant with meaning, but by the time it’s incorporated in the show it’s become kitschy and half-hearted. Even the markers of change have become rote, taken for granted, and so the last ties to the past are broken, the bridge burned. Let us return to that word “pregnant” however; I can’t think of a better descriptor for the warmth and fascination Jia’s films hold. There is something conveyed in his fluid use of camera, screen space, and setting which allows every shot to hold worlds – if the movie is a bit of a satire on China’s “Open Door” policy, it embodies a more honest “open door” policy itself. This is “open” filmmaking at its best, in which the viewer’s mind and eyes can wander, in which simple set-ups contain multitudes, in which, while guided, one is never 100% sure what one is supposed to think, and doubtful that the “should” even exists. I’ve managed to convey little of this here, particularly with the focus on the historical-cultural elements of the movie, fascinating as they are. This sense of openness, of film-watching as an adventure, of viewership and filmmaking both as exploration, can best be experienced by watching the film itself. I strongly encourage you to do so. All cinema exists in a state of permanent fluctuation; this film knows it, foregrounds it, and makes itself one with the transformative power of the movies, and of life.
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This is really a brilliant piece of writing on a film and director that certainly deserve such extravagent treatment. The complete treatment throughout this distinguished essay is worthy of discussion, but as it is I love your finale here best of all:
“This sense of openness, of film-watching as an adventure, of viewership and filmmaking both as exploration, can best be experienced by watching the film itself. I strongly encourage you to do so. All cinema exists in a state of permanent fluctuation; this film knows it, foregrounds it, and makes itself one with the transformative power of the movies, and of life.”
Indeed!
“That the “new China” is somehow chimerical, the loss real but the gain hard to get a fix on” – You really nailed it there, MovieMan.
This is a film that deserves a large audience – J. Rosenbaum called it the greatest Chinese film ever made!
There is really no plot or character development, but this is still a riveting and provocative work by one of the world’s most foremost auteurs. It’s an auspicious work that brings to mind some compelling comparison to Edgar Reitz’s ‘Heimat 2’ which I haven’t seen but know the drift.
Superb review.
Nice review here, MovieMan (as usual), this must be the type of Asian film you keep citing as an example of the current breadth of Asian cinema over European.
I have not seen this, and from this auteur ‘Still Life’ is the only one I’ve seen (oddly enough after your essay on that prompted me to do so). I liked that one a great deal, and after this superb essay and JAFB’s supplied Rosenbaum quote (probably my favorite critic I’ve ever read) I will be seeing this as soon as I can and returning here to comment.
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So far this series as a whole, the movies that have given to you all seem similar in some way I can’t place– are they from one person, or multiple people? It just seems like they are all similar in a way that one person’s taste is showing through. Which is OK of course, just something I’ve noticed.
To all respondents in turn:
Sam – Thanks and yes, that to me sums up the spirit not just of this film but so many that I love.
JAFB – To say I haven’t seen nearly enough Chinese films to confirm/disconfirm Rosenbaum’s sentiment is a woeful understatement; in fact, when you exclude Hong Kong I think almost all the Chinese films I’ve seen have been Jia’s! A whole vast country and its cinema awaits exploration from me, but the very little I’ve seen has impressed me inordinantly.
Bill – Funny you should mention Heimat, I just ordered it online. It was no longer available for rental on Netflix, and I figured it was worth the leap (got a relatively cheap copy via an individual Amazon seller) because I am literally obsessed with that sort of thing – characters aging against a historical backdrop, the changes in a town over time. I can’t wait to see it. As for Platform, the characters do change but oddly enough I know what you mean – their “development” feels more superficial, and underneath they are too confused/disconnected to really “develop” – much like the country as represented in the film.
Jamie – yes, this is one of those Asian films I’ve seen that to me feel far more adventurous than their European/North American counterparts (though I think what I’ve seen of Latin American cinema is equally impressive). As I said to JAFB, I’ve seen hardly any Chinese films, and the same could be said, to only a slightly lesser extent, of Asian films in general, particularly non-Japanese. Yet given the tiny sample what I’ve seen has been extraordinary, one reason I’m willing to make great claims for it. If this is what I’m getting from just seeing a handful of films, either I’ve been really lucky so far or there’s just a wealth of cinema there.
As for the list, well the only way they are connected I suppose is that these were all films I avoided seeing until now! (The list is compiled from a master list made from the top tens of film critics year-by-year, the films are weighted and ranked accordingly; more weight is given to those that show up on all-time best lists as well. The films I review are the ones on the list I haven’t seen already. For more: https://wondersinthedark.wordpress.com/2010/02/23/best-of-the-21st-century-new-version/). In a sense, this exercise is kind of the opposite of Allan’s – he wants to point people to films they haven’t seen but should have, I want to point MYSELF to films I haven’t seen but should have – though if it gets others to follow me, excellent!
it is weird just how personal taste’s run… I too like ‘adventurous’ film as you call it, but often times my picks for this sort aren’t expansive (as your definition seems to take this as a for granted). Mine are adventurous in content or tone, but they are more oppressive or suffocating in nature. So when you speak of ‘adventurous Asian cinema’ I think of out there cyberpunk stuff, Miike, Sono, Park, etc. Nobody did horror/extreme like the Asians in the 90’s and early 00’s, and I mean nobody (and I’m not talking about the stuff that’s been remade by the US like ‘The Grudge’ and ‘The Ring’). Since then the Euro’s have continued the torch with the New French Extremity type stuff… this is the sort of stuff I want to cover with my ‘extreme series’ and the coming Horror countdown.
So then this becomes why I’m missed this sort of stuff and now backtrack to see it (films like ‘Platform’ I mean), I’ve spent my time seeking Asian cinema like ‘Rubber’s Lover’ and the similar ilk. At least at this point in my life I try and see it all now, which is a good thing I suppose, it just makes for a HUGE backlog of films I’m trying to get to which leaves most evenings full and lots of late nights. But hey, there are worse ways to live!
Fair points. When I use the term “adventurous” it’s usually more in terms of form than content – another reason I tend to prefer older European films than more recent ones. But I try to stay open to all of it; my taste runs a certain way, but hopefully I can still appreciate what’s different.
And yes, I definitely have a preference for the open or exhilirating or expansive. But of course I try to keep an open mind, and some of my favorite films are more enclosed. (I was going to use Mother and the Whore as an example, but while that’s restricted to a half-dozen characters and small sets, it contains worlds – partly a result of its great length, partly a result of all the ideas and feelings it engages and is able to explore intensely because it limits its scope; in this sense, it could be considered expansive too.)
For an example, I’d cite the French ‘In My Skin’ it’s a small art film… but it’s intense and I’m not sure I can’t grasp what’s going on. To me, that is a modern, intense, adventurous film.
should be ‘I can grasp’, not the opposite I write above. My apologies.
To the second comment: for myself, it’s all about the film’s relative obscurity. Had I been actively pursuing contemporary cinema over the past ten years, I’m sure I would have made an effort to see more gems of world cinema, more obscure but highly praised films, I would have cast the net widely.
As it is, I decided to forego most new releases and explore cinema’s past, for at least the past 5 years (and before that, I spent a couple years mostly ignoring movies for music, also mostly from the past). I don’t regret that but it does mean the films that slipped through the cracks were either movies I saw with other people or whose hype broke through to me and lured me to the theater. So I’ve seen most of the more trumpeted pictures like, say, No Country for Old Men or Y Tu Mama Tambien, the films that as a young person even mildly interested in movies, I would have run into regardless, but not the films like Jia’s or Weerasethakul’s I would have been expected to see if I’d been more diligent about pursuing contemporary offerings. That’s why I’m glad I came up with this series and stuck to it – there’s nothing like a canon/list/etc to light a fire under your ass (though they all must be gone beyond, eventually).
I’m somewhat similar, though I’ve seen many really obscure films. I spent all of my time seeking out hard to find films because they were hard to find, or the subject matter was extreme. So, I’d seen all the GUINEA PIG films, for example, before I’d see ANY Godard for example. College afforded me a library with many of those classics, and a great on campus theater that had festivals where they’d show films that were linked in some way (like 5 from the French New Wave, etc) over the course of a month, admittance was free with a student ID. Really that is where I started seeing the classics, and the important directors. And I developed an important filmgoer trait: going and viewing films alone. Before that I felt like a leper sitting alone almost anywhere.
All that in a blender reveals how I view films–coupled with the fact that I was in art school, so theory discussions were going on during the day in crits. But as I’ve said to Sam in the past, the fact that IMHO the first important film experience in my life was SCANNERS at 8 and not a Hollywood classic, or an art house classic explains much about me. It’s something I am prepared to explain for the horror countdown… I’m a film fan that liked horror films first and ‘other’ second, a nonhorror fan can never then understand why I like certain stuff I do, to most giallo’s are trashy films. (off topic sure but an interesting avenue)
Jamie, Pauline Kael said she didn’t trust people who disparaged movies until Hiroshima Mon Amour or L’Avventura “changed the way they looked at movies.” She felt that film as art was not something radically different from film as entertainment, but rather an extension and enlarging of the very qualities that draw one to movies as a naive, impressionable viewer in the first place.
I think the richer, fuller appreciation of cinema usually stems from a passionate, unfiltered response to it first and then moves on to embrace the more challenging works of art, seeing them as an extension of those earlier experiences rather than a contradiction. This is why academic approaches to film history make me weary – like you with Scanners and the horror genre, I was wooed first by Indiana Jones and Hollywood movies and books about the old Universal horror monsters – it was through these that I discovered Godard, Bergman, and Antonioni, and I wouldn’t have it any other way! Because in a sense what brings the great artists of film to life is their fusion of ambitious ideas, intense emotions, formal sophistication or complexity with those basic drives that power all movies and have been drawing viewers to them for 100 years – a sense of adventure and exploration, the thrill of discovery and recognition, the larger-than-life, romantic quality. I hope film does not lose its connections to the movies, that cinema remains to a certain extent both a popular and “high” art (not so much on the basis of individual films, except in some cases, but rather their relation to one another as members of the same medium which contains both qualities). To the extent I see slippage I get alarmed – but it’s still a fresh art and I think there’s plenty of room yet for this experience to flourish.
Movieman, sorry I hadn’t seen that you had responded here so hence my delay.
It’s also important to note for both of our film pasts what the ages we are talking about (also of course as a child we wouldn’t like Godard, or other as those films would have been over our heads. So the time that I encountered Godard, et al, is necessary for seeing those films charms as well). I do believe children should approach cinema with a child-like curiosity and become life long film fans. However, to embrace that sort of filmgoer for the duration of your life would be embarrassing in my opinion, and show little growth as a human being. The fact is humans evolve over the length of their lives and the most important development (to me) is intellect. I still hold trash horror in high regard as an adult, but I must admit now that a film must do more for me to be completely taken away (and one can find intellectual trash horror or any genre if one looks hard enough, believe it or not). As for your (continued) skepticism towards academia in cinema, I (continue) to shake my head… as, for the time being, it’s the only real avenue for serious talk about art (and specifically cinema). I feel the blogosphere can help change this (or rather just shift the location), but still the fact remains adults should speak about art, like adults, mostly on academic terms. As I age, I understand better why I liked, say SCANNERS as a child, and why I continue to like it as an adult. And the adult in me can better understand ALL its charms not just the exploding heads.
I think, to some degree, looking for escapism or childlike wonderment (over all other elements) in modern film is one of the largest negative influences going. I would call this the ‘Pixar’ effect. I’m currently writing an introduction to my ‘extreme’ series, that I have decided to pursue here (I was on the fence about doing the series for a few weeks), hopefully it will be ongoing as there is no defined set of ‘extreme’ films, that touches on these things. When adults desire things from their childhood, above all else, is something I’d like to combat. I don’t really like the ‘escapist’ quality of most films in todays ‘adult’ market (and peoples affection for them), we’ve been conditioned to believe that to enjoy something we don’t have to deal with or confront something. So I want to watch the extreme of the extreme, the movies that should be at the cineplex as much as Pixar etc is.
And as far as Kael goes, I have about as much use for her as I do a bucket with a hole in it.
I realize we are kind of talking about different things, but in the venn-diagram of our two or three comments there is enough over lap I think.
Ironically, my comment was meant as an agreement with your own, Kael and all!
There are a lot of matters on which we don’t share anything approaching common ground (even in terms of definitions, it seems) so rather than make general points – which tend to lead us in circles – I’ll take your post point by point:
“However, to embrace that sort of filmgoer for the duration of your life would be embarrassing in my opinion, and show little growth as a human being.”
Kael agrees with you 100% and wrote about this on many occasions. Her point was not that one does not grow as a filmgoer, but that one retains that sense of wonder, enthusiasm, and excitement that drew one to the cinema in the first place instead of transmogrifying it into something pompous, dull, and detached from the original impetus. So to a certain extent, you’re battling a straw man here (I agree with Kael, as is borne out by the reviews I’ve written).
“The fact is humans evolve over the length of their lives and the most important development (to me) is intellect.”
Really? I think – and have said – that intellect is paramount in social realms, where we have to negotiate different and often conflicting demands and beliefs. But in the realm of art and also in our personal lives, I don’t think intellect is all- important. Far more important in the first is a growth of our sensibility, in which intellect plays a part (though perhaps a subordinate one), in the second a sense of self which is more instinctual than intellectual. But to go further on this might be futile – first, I guess we should define our terms. Using intellectual in this sense I am thinking primarily rational, deductive, analytical thought – as opposed to impulsive, intuitive, irrational emotion. How do you mean the term when you use it?
“I still hold trash horror in high regard as an adult, but I must admit now that a film must do more for me to be completely taken away (and one can find intellectual trash horror or any genre if one looks hard enough, believe it or not).”
There’s a difference though, between film doing “other” than just what first drew you, and film doing “more”. I’m of the mindset that Singin’ in the Rain is as great a film as Masculin Feminin – that they exist in very different corners of the same realm. This conception of a broad universe of film, with enough room to sustain cheerful entertainment and abrasive personal statement, is probably the key ingredient in what makes me a cinephile rather than just a casual fan of certain movies. While slasher films aren’t my cup of tea, if a particular one – without engaging the intellect in any conventional sense – is an exhilirating experience, with an impressive control of form, and all the other requisites of greatness, why can’t it stand shoulder-to-shoulder with a more “intellectual” film? To rephrase an old point, why isn’t their room for both Wall-E and Before Sunset in the pantheon (personally, I’d be more inclined to elevate, say, E.T. and The Mother and the Whore in their place, but the point sands).
“As for your (continued) skepticism towards academia in cinema, I (continue) to shake my head… as, for the time being, it’s the only real avenue for serious talk about art (and specifically cinema).”
I don’t think this is true at all. You’d have to expand on the point – I think you’re suggesting not a dialogue of individuals but a public conversation. Is that correct? I still disagree, but we could discuss that a bit more extensively.
“I feel the blogosphere can help change this (or rather just shift the location), but still the fact remains adults should speak about art, like adults, mostly on academic terms.”
Woo, we’re really going to have to define terms here! What do you mean by “academic”? I don’t think Kael or Sarris, both of whom began as amateurs (though Sarris eventually taught too), discussed films on academic terms and I’d rather talk films with them or others like them than I would with your average film professor. So I heartily disagree.
“I think, to some degree, looking for escapism or childlike wonderment (over all other elements) in modern film is one of the largest negative influences going.”
But Jamie, this is contrary to the trends in blockbuster entertainment, which instead of seeking pleasure, joy, or adventure (like the Lucas or Spielberg films from 20-30 years ago) feign a brooding, dark, faux-real template. This is ten times more offensive to me – both because of its dreariness and its phoniness – than escapism, and it makes the Pixar films breaths of fresh air, relief from the embarrassing adolescent angst of big-budget movies rather than a typical example of what Hollywood churns out.
“When adults desire things from their childhood, above all else, is something I’d like to combat.”
Is the issue really desiring things from one’s childhood above all else, or desiring them period? Most people don’t get much chance to revisit that period in their daily lives; is it really so awful that they chose to engage these emotions in a cinema? Frankly, I don’t see why this is worth combatting. Countering perhaps, with other options and encouragement to pursue those options (how this would be done is another matter, of course).
“I don’t really like the ‘escapist’ quality of most films in todays ‘adult’ market (and peoples affection for them), we’ve been conditioned to believe that to enjoy something we don’t have to deal with or confront something.”
The last statement is too much of a generalization for me. You like to speak of “conditioning” but sometimes it seems like an excuse to slice off and dismiss things you don’t like, making them seem “unnatural.” Human psychology is as much a matter of nature as of nurture, to my understanding, besides which nurture itself ultimately stems from nature (in this sense, nothing is really “unnatural” even, gulp, academia!). This is kind of a subsidiary point, but one I’ve wanted to make for a while.
At any rate, as for the example on hand, it depends what type of enjoyment we’re talking about. Like you, I don’t find much satisfaction in merely placating entertainment – I like “escapist” fare more than you, but it usually has to be pretty good escapist fare. I don’t watch television at all, I’ve come to read only what might be characterized by some as “challenging” fare, and I don’t bother to follow contemporary mainstream cinema – or in fact pop culture – at all. Not because I’m trying to prove something, just because that’s how my taste runs. But I realize that many other peoples’ tastes run differently and most of us, rather than fighting some externally imposed “conditioning” are just remaining true to ourselves, shaped as we are by environment and the innate alike.
“So I want to watch the extreme of the extreme, the movies that should be at the cineplex as much as Pixar etc is.”
Again, that’s you. It’s fine, but as a matter of taste it’s not innately superior to those who seek out or are gratified by Pixar. If you want to discuss the issue of “greatness” that’s another matter, one I’d be happy to discuss, though I’m not sure how you could begin to given your lack of enthusiasm for objective standards (if I remember correctly).
Anyway, should the films be at the cinema “as much as Pixar etc is”? To the extent that your point is about people having equal access to these films, about all sorts of films having a place in the conversation rather than just a select few, I’m 100% in agreement with you. But most people do not look to art or entertainment for fulfillment, only diversion (see the point above). This doesn’t mean that they’re necessarily shallow, just that they look elsewhere for these things for whatever reason. To the extent this can be changed or challenged it’s a great thing (and I think this happened to a certain extent – exaggerated, definitely, after the fact but still substantial – in the late 60s to mid 70s). But I doubt it will ever be transformed to the point where people are seeking out films which do not simply entertain them (in the past, when extreme films have been popular, it’s been because of, not in spite of, people’s straightforward enjoyment of them).
“And as far as Kael goes, I have about as much use for her as I do a bucket with a hole in it.”
Then you’re missing out my friend! 😉 Seriously, she actually agrees with a lot of the points you’re making; on top of which, she writes like God’s gift to New York.
Also, one more point about childhood: it isn’t simply a matter of regression. Films which engage the child in us often put us in touch with our unconscious, a deeper level of existence than is commonly dealt with in day-to-day adult existence. So I’m not sure fantasy, myth, etc. are deserving of the condescension you and others sometimes heap on it. In some ways, a really good film of this sort is actually “deeper” than many an “art film.”
OK, I’ll open my response up to sort of a ‘catch all’ opening paragraph then tackle your points/questions as I can below that.
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First I must state after reading through this mini-thread we are again seeing eye-to-eye more then we both believe (or realize but like the conversation more). I do see a worth in childlike escapist films, and have little to no problem seeing them sit along side respected, accepted art-house. I suppose where I do think film appreciation should go/or the problem I’m having trouble stating here is what ARE these films. Take for example, your picks/examples. For art house you list somewhat personal picks– MASCULIN FEMININ and MOTHER AND THE WHORE, then you list as populist entertainment two rather populist ‘canon films’: SINGING IN THE RAIN and ET (both films I more or less see little worth in which is fine, but I digress). So I guess my problem with this whole discussion or when people overly champion popcorn film is how bland or vanilla it is. Hell, if you are liking these films truly for the joy and excitement of them, shouldn’t you view your joy and excitement as somewhat unique to you? Maybe you do, but then you cite two films that the majority of people who see films for entertainment reasons would list. I mean I expect WIZARD OF OZ next.
My point being (and I understand your two ‘entertainment’ picks may have just been off the cuff ‘for example’ references) is if we are going to argue for appreciation of film on largely subjective grounds then the films we like should be largely subjective and individualistic. For example, a few films I say can stand with any on these grounds: Stuart Gordon’s FROM BEYOND, Burton’s PEE WEE, Cronenberg’s THE FLY, Carpenter’s CHRISTINE etc in naming these I’m scoffing elitism but I’m also finding a unique personality/taste (and these are all very quality films). Or broader, my distaste towards PIXAR shows this: they are perceived as the pinnacle of entertainment, but in reality they are bland films made by many hands in an assembly line like production (the exact opposite of the auteur approach I like)… they question or alter none of our perceptions (rather they stroke our egos and what we already like). Why can’t entertainment be as wild as our appreciated art-house (the grindhouse era was really the only time entertainment was what I am advocating here)?
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I hold on my ‘intellect evolving’ comment, and I believe that all our reactions and impulses are driven by how are intellect has evolved. You may think you are driven by your heart, but the brain is what makes it all work, and tells it how to react and ‘feel’…
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““As for your (continued) skepticism towards academia in cinema, I (continue) to shake my head… as, for the time being, it’s the only real avenue for serious talk about art (and specifically cinema).”
I don’t think this is true at all. You’d have to expand on the point – I think you’re suggesting not a dialogue of individuals but a public conversation. Is that correct? I still disagree, but we could discuss that a bit more extensively.”
I think my view of academia is larger then yours here. I don’t just mean universities and journals. What we are doing right now is somewhat academic, our continued discussion on BREATHLESS is academic. It’s academically adding something to a film experience. etc. What I mean about it being the ‘only avenue’, is more about where types of people like this generally congregate. But hey if you know a place where RUBBER’S LOVER is given the respect it deserves I’m all ears.
===
“Anyway, should the films be at the cinema “as much as Pixar etc is”? To the extent that your point is about people having equal access to these films, about all sorts of films having a place in the conversation rather than just a select few, I’m 100% in agreement with you. But most people do not look to art or entertainment for fulfillment, only diversion (see the point above). This doesn’t mean that they’re necessarily shallow, just that they look elsewhere for these things for whatever reason. To the extent this can be changed or challenged it’s a great thing (and I think this happened to a certain extent – exaggerated, definitely, after the fact but still substantial – in the late 60s to mid 70s). But I doubt it will ever be transformed to the point where people are seeking out films which do not simply entertain them (in the past, when extreme films have been popular, it’s been because of, not in spite of, people’s straightforward enjoyment of them).”
This I agree with, well said. (though I think you give people much to much credit here: “This doesn’t mean that they’re necessarily shallow, just that they look elsewhere for these things for whatever reason.” I think most people simply do not seek anything challenging either in life, art, etc) I think Morrissey said it better then I can in one song title: ‘the world is full of crashing bores’. Maybe that’s just a fact I need to no longer fight or get upset about (though compared to my younger days I don’t).
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““I think, to some degree, looking for escapism or childlike wonderment (over all other elements) in modern film is one of the largest negative influences going.”
But Jamie, this is contrary to the trends in blockbuster entertainment, which instead of seeking pleasure, joy, or adventure (like the Lucas or Spielberg films from 20-30 years ago) feign a brooding, dark, faux-real template. This is ten times more offensive to me – both because of its dreariness and its phoniness – than escapism, and it makes the Pixar films breaths of fresh air, relief from the embarrassing adolescent angst of big-budget movies rather than a typical example of what Hollywood churns out.”
I agree with this, but then taking one bad example I see (bland escapist fare), and inserting one (bad dark films) is a misnomer. Since we are both guilty I’ll just leave it at this: we shouldn’t argue against a type of film based on it’s worst films. But, I am arguing against the films of PIXAR and Spielberg (two of the three examples you put up as ‘good’) so I’m not sure where this leaves us.
===
Re: Kael. When I say I dislike her it is on the knowledge of her work… I own three books of hers. Though I won’t own another nor read another, as a general rule of thumb I typically don’t like people’s opinions whose job it is/was to just watch films. I can do that, and I respect my opinion over hers. This is why a philosophy lecture on BREATHLESS I like, it’s a philosopher dissecting a film. Same for Sontag’s ON PHOTOGRAPHY. I love that book and she touches on film quite a bit (I think she’s at least 5 times the writer/thinker Kael was, and quite a bit more humble to boot). Kael is such a sacred cow I hate it, everywhere I turn on the blogosphere she’s used as a trump card or as a figure more important then the artists themselves. I just find it all so terrible. This isn’t necessarily to you, I just dislike her. Imagine in painting if you knew Robert Hughes writings more then Robert Rauschenberg’s work. Egad! But in the Kael/film world this is the reality.
Perhaps the only person that breaks this idea for me is Rosenbaum, whose opinions and essays I like a great deal.
==
I think this tackles most of the points covered.
Sorry all for barging in.
Michael Sicinski (the academic hack), one of the finest writers on film, leave alone online, needs some help in covering the TIFF. I’m sure the festival will be a blast, and Michael’s writing more so.
Please contribute to the project if possible or/and spread the word:
http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/865279740/toronto-intl-film-festival-coverage-for-cargo-acad/backers
I’m sorry if this is an inappropriate place for this.
Cheers!
To come back on track (or should I say Platform?), Cinemascope mag, for which Michael writes, voted Platform as the film of the decade. The top 10:
1 Platform (Jia Zhangke, 2000)
2 In Vanda’s Room (Pedro Costa, 2001)
3 La libertad (Lisandro Alonso, 2001)
4 Los Angeles Plays Itself (Thom Andersen, 2003)
5 13 Lakes (James Benning, 2004)
6 Evolution of a Filipino Family (Lav Diaz, 2004)
7 Yi Yi (Edward Yang, 2000)
8 Black Book (Paul Verhoeven, 2006)
9 Memories of Murder (Bong Joon-ho, 2003)
10 Mulholland Drive (David Lynch, 2001)
Great project of yours and it’s always interesting to read about Jia Zhangke. As for Cinemascope’s placement of Platform as film of the decade, however, I’d dearly like to know their reasoning. Maybe Michael could comment?
Helena, it was the result of a poll.
Thanks Helena – just saw this. I look forward to the several remaining Jias on my list – so far, so good…
Thanks, JAFB. Can’t argue with a poll ;-).
And yet one more point – last before your response I promise! – about academia. To make your point stronger, you need to give me more of a sense of what you think academia has added to the conversation on cinema. It seems to me that they have mostly just taken over ideas first presented outside academia – in film magazines of the 50s through the 70s – and codified these, lining them up neatly in textbooks and bringing in lots of sociopolitical baggage which treats film just as another “text” rather than respecting it on its own terms. (Jonathan Rosenbaum, certainly no hostile towards intellectual discussions of films, once griped that American academics seem to be the only ones in the world who hate art.)
P.S. – since we’re the only ones using this thread now, let’s start the conversation again down here; that way the page will hopefully not be as hard to navigate as the
Here’s the quote in question:
“I would second Christian’s point. It’s true that a lot of academics of all stripes write poorly and inelegantly, including those who depend too much on jargon (although there are fewer of these around now than there used to be), but you might say that the rejection of aesthetics in the study of both film and literature has been wholly compatible with the lack of any sense of necessity on the part of many academics of writing well about ANY subject.
To the best of my knowledge, the U.S. is the only country in the world where art is actively hated by many intellectuals, and this bias is, alas, fully apparent in their work.”
http://girishshambu.blogspot.com/2009/04/narrative-synthesis.html#c3482798819931127488
I sort of agree with the second part of Rosenbaum’s quote.
But can someone evaluate the aesthetics of the film ALONE without its sociopolitical (or any real world) implications? What good is a tracking shot on its own? Can a pan shot be beautiful by itself without what it’s saying?
My point is that a purely aesthetic evaluation of a film does not have a backbone of its own. To say that an aesthetic choice is “good” means to define an ideology/worldview, IMO.
Cheers!
JAFB, you’re right of course but I think Rosenbaum would heartily agree – in fact, I know he would! But his point is not that aesthetics alone should determine the conversation but that they should have a place – perhaps one of privilege, but above all some place – in conversations on art. And that often, in academic circles, the aesthetic is completely disregarded for sociopolitical or other readings which treat the film as just another “text” and thus disregard what makes it uniquely a film.
Here’s another comment in that thread which expands on Jonathan’s point:
http://girishshambu.blogspot.com/2009/04/narrative-synthesis.html#c6191217031482841540
This, I agree with. I guess any critique of a film must reveal that it has been derived from the film itself and not its script. Because I truly believe that the two will differ starkly.
MovieMan, off topic,but I have to ask this: I believe you’ve Goldberg’s Liberal Fascism. Would you recommend it for reading? As in, does the book “make sense”? Or does it tend towards conspiracy theorizing?
***Argh. “I believe you’ve read Goldberg’s Liberal Fascism”
It does not trend toward conspiracy theorizing. It makes sense in patches. And it’s one of the most infuriating books I’ve ever read!
The problem is that Goldberg has one foot and four toes in the world of conservative punditry – where his only job is to conform to the smarmy prejudices of his readership – and one toe, or maybe the tip of one toe, in the world of historical scholarship (in which he has no background, to my understanding). A compelling book could have been written about the overlaps between fascism and American progressivism, or a book about fascism’s differences from American conservatism (Goldberg said he wrote the book to as an angry response to liberals calling him a “fascist”). But of course, in order to be reasonable, it would have had to recognize that the overlaps between fascism and progressivism are not very fundamental to either, and that fascism does share some traits with American conservatism.
However, “Not-As-Conservative-As-You’d-Think-And-Maybe-Even-In-Some-Ways-Tied-To-Progressivism-In-Which-Much-Of-Modern-Liberalism-Is-Rooted Fascism” would not have sold many copies. Call the book “Liberal Fascism”, stick a Hitler-moustached smiley face on the cover and you have a bestseller. Then when critics go after Goldberg, he whines that he’s not being taken seriously as a historian. I wonder why.
I found it worth reading inasmuch as it has provided the template for the tea-party types and goes some ways towards explaining their perception of the current political scene (it has been a big hit with Glenn Beck, who pimps it frequently on his show, and utilizes its points frequently, resulting in his rather oddly ill-timed – by about 100 years – outburst of rage at Woodrow Wilson who has suddenly been transformed into the initial fountainhead of Obama-style-socialism…). So for the insight into a mindset and political perspectives it is fairly valuable, but as history or political theory not so much.
Here’s an interesting thread on Goldberg’s book, in which I took part:
http://zombiecontentions.com/2010/04/09/on-re-reading-liberal-fascism-defining-fascism-down/#comment-18848
(that’s my comment, scroll up for the piece I was responding to)
Ah, thanks very much. I’ll go through the thread soon.
Yeah, worth the effort I suppose if you’re considering reading the book. Looking back on it, I phrased my objections a bit more cogently there than I have here, but then the book was fresher in memory at the time and it probably wasn’t as late as it is now (then again, maybe it was – a sense of time is the first thing to slip away in the vast corridors of the blogosphere…)
I’ve read parts of Goldberg’s book and would say it’s not worth the paper it’s printed on–that pulp probably dreamed of becoming toilet paper over becoming graced with Goldberg’s copy.
If you can find it via a simple google search, locate and watch Goldberg doing press for it on the Daily Show with Jon Stewart. It shows how thin his argument is, and how how much he wrote the book to prove his preconceived ideas/notions. I can’t wait for his entry into the Evolution denying sub-culture literature, you gotta believe it’s coming…
Urgh, what a hack/clown I think that guy is.
Jamie, you’ll like this: a while back, I read a column by Goldberg which was essentially an apologia for Pinochet, even giving him credit for “restoring” a civil society despite the fact that he overthrew a democratic regime.
Totally befuddled by this logic I sent him an e-mail saying, basically, how exactly is a “potential dictator” who thus far was an elected president (Allende) who did not kill and torture people was worse than an actual dictator who did kill and torture people. Goldberg’s response was something to the effect of, “When that elected president is turning the country into a communist dictatorship.” Gotta love the pithy, baseless assertion (he did not respond to my further query asking for evidence that this was the case – or that this hypothetical dictatorship would have been worse than the one that actually materialized).
And yes, the irony of this author then going on to pen a book about how conservatism has no ties to fascism, well…
Here’s the article btw:
http://www.latimes.com/news/opinion/la-oe-goldberg14dec14,0,5277475.column?coll=la-opinion-center
Typical Jonah – generalizations, false dichotemy and all (Castro v. Pinochet, i.e. left dictator v. right dictator, never mind that Pinochet did not overthrow a left dictator but a left democrat).
“So I guess my problem with this whole discussion or when people overly champion popcorn film is how bland or vanilla it is.”
I truly think this is you not seeing the films for their reputations. E.T. is hardly bland and Wizard of Oz is hardly vanilla. Both are unusual, unique, and powerful films that are popular for a reason! I get that you don’t like them, but to be honest that’s your problem, not the films’! And I have to object to your reasoning that my joy and excitement can’t be unique to me if “the majority of people who see films for entertainment reasons would list” them too. I can read this sentence many times and it doesn’t make any sense to me. All this leaves room for is knee-jerk contrarianism – which I don’t think you would claim as your position; so what I am missing here in your reasoning? A list that only included films like The Mother and the Whore or one that only included films like E.T. would be equally boring to me, to be honest. Neither would really provide a taste of the diversity and differences of approach the movies can offer.
And I mostly watch movies alone but I like mass experience too. This is not about going with the crowd like a conformist, but discovering to your delight that a whole lot of people shared an experience with you: it’s a communal thing. That used to be what cinema was about. Last summer I saw Jaws with a big audience, and the feeling of enjoyment and satisfaction after it was over was wonderful – of everybody having a good time and having shared, in a weird way, this private experience (the interior reaction to watching a movie) publicly. Sorry, I’ll just never see what’s wrong with this – nor why it has to stand in contradiction to watching The Mother and the Whore by myself on television at midnight and being enthralled. Both are cinema (or rather both have become cinema, since in the era between the carnival peep show and the video cassette, cinema was almost exclusively a mass experience). Neither should be denied.
“Why can’t entertainment be as wild as our appreciated art-house (the grindhouse era was really the only time entertainment was what I am advocating here)?”
Then I wouldn’t be offering a counterpoint to you, Jamie. My counterpoint is not that I like entertainment & art-house films alike but that I like films I like and see value in films I see value in, regardless of whether or not they’re popular. You seem to only want to highlight idiosyncratic films here and then act as if including “populist” picks is too narrow. But I feel that what’s narrow is choosing between the two rather than being willing to embrace both. You’re going to have to do much more to explain why these films are what you say they are (you go a little ways, not really to my satisfaction but it’s at least an attempt, with Pixar – I don’t think they are committee affairs in the sense you suggest, but rather collbaorations between individuals; otherwise you seem to take it for granted that a popular film is automatically “bland” or “vanilla”).
“I hold on my ‘intellect evolving’ comment, and I believe that all our reactions and impulses are driven by how are intellect has evolved. You may think you are driven by your heart, but the brain is what makes it all work, and tells it how to react and ‘feel’… ”
I’m really not sure what you mean here. Yes, everything controlled by the brain anatomically, but I don’t think that’s what we’re talking about. Obviously the mind is not all-intellect. I still need more of a definition from you on what you mean by “intellect.”
“I think my view of academia is larger then yours here. I don’t just mean universities and journals. What we are doing right now is somewhat academic, our continued discussion on BREATHLESS is academic. It’s academically adding something to a film experience. etc. What I mean about it being the ‘only avenue’, is more about where types of people like this generally congregate. But hey if you know a place where RUBBER’S LOVER is given the respect it deserves I’m all ears.”
To Point A – here is how dictionary.com defines “academic”:
1. of or pertaining to a college, academy, school, or other educational institution, esp. one for higher education: academic requirements.
2. pertaining to areas of study that are not primarily vocational or applied, as the humanities or pure mathematics.
3. theoretical or hypothetical; not practical, realistic, or directly useful: an academic question; an academic discussion of a matter already decided.
4. learned or scholarly but lacking in worldliness, common sense, or practicality.
5. conforming to set rules, standards, or traditions; conventional: academic painting.
6. acquired by formal education, esp. at a college or university: academic preparation for the ministry.
When I use the word, I have in mind #1, #5, and #6 – particularly #1 and #6 (a bit of #4 too, but that’s sort of a different topic and not all that applicable to the subject at hand). You may have #2 and #3 more in mind – or at least equally in mind. Is that correct? Re: #2, it seems kind of a moot point as by that definition any discussion of film, even two dudes discussing how cool Transformers was, would be academic (which actually makes me kind of think you DON’T have this definition in mind after all). Re: #3, leaving aside the last part of that definition (as you seem to be saying the opposite of “matters already decided”), I guess we could argue that discussions not pertaining to a business decision or a question of leisure (in other words, will this film make money, or was that a fun distraction to go see that movie) could be termed “academic.” But that is not what I had in mind when using the term, nor what I was arguing against. As for the overlap in our definitions (i.e. where academic means university-centered), that leads me to your Point B.
To which I’d respond that yes, students – due to the stage of life they’re at (wanting to explore, devoting a great deal of their time to intellectual pursuits, being in a highly social environment) and the structure of their lifestyle – are especially open to obscure films (though we may disagree about this being the only type of film discourse that’s important). But I’m not really sure how vital universities as institutions rather than environments (i.e. the academic vs. the collegian for lack of a better word) are to this process – in some ways, I think official film studies programs, at least as presently constituted, can dampen this natural enthusiasm.
At any rate, and I think this is an important point, it’s the tail wagging the dog. Student enthusiasm in the 60s and 70s initiated film programs, not vice-versa.
“This I agree with, well said. (though I think you give people much to much credit here: “This doesn’t mean that they’re necessarily shallow, just that they look elsewhere for these things for whatever reason.” I think most people simply do not seek anything challenging either in life, art, etc) I think Morrissey said it better then I can in one song title: ‘the world is full of crashing bores’. Maybe that’s just a fact I need to no longer fight or get upset about (though compared to my younger days I don’t).”
Well, most people I know are not crashing bores but maybe I’m lucky in that regard (I will say, I found people generally more interesting in the small town I grew up in than I did in New York when I lived there; maybe urban life facilitates both crashing bores and people who see them everywhere). On the other hand, you may be too narrow in what you’re looking at: expecting people to “seek” and “respond” as you do, and when they don’t, assuming there’s nothing else going on there (what you taste as vanilla, they could be tasting as chocolate, and vice-versa). One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned so far in my own short life is that my own inner state can vary so wildly that it would be folly to assume other people are consistently like me inside (since it’s hard to even pin down what “me” is, let alone billions of other people) and thus that their internal state can be read from the outside as I would read myself. Determining whether there’s a “there” there is thus guesswork. Hey, I still judge all the time but I try to remind myself I’m skating on thin ice while doing so!
“I agree with this, but then taking one bad example I see (bland escapist fare), and inserting one (bad dark films) is a misnomer. Since we are both guilty I’ll just leave it at this: we shouldn’t argue against a type of film based on it’s worst films. But, I am arguing against the films of PIXAR and Spielberg (two of the three examples you put up as ‘good’) so I’m not sure where this leaves us.”
It was a peripheral point and I agree that it’s not really fundamental to either of our larger points. But I couldn’t resist taking a potshot at post-Matrix cinema!
“Re: Kael. When I say I dislike her it is on the knowledge of her work… I own three books of hers. Though I won’t own another nor read another, as a general rule of thumb I typically don’t like people’s opinions whose job it is/was to just watch films. I can do that, and I respect my opinion over hers. This is why a philosophy lecture on BREATHLESS I like, it’s a philosopher dissecting a film. Same for Sontag’s ON PHOTOGRAPHY. I love that book and she touches on film quite a bit (I think she’s at least 5 times the writer/thinker Kael was, and quite a bit more humble to boot).”
I like Sontag, but she’s not much like Kael, it’s kind of apples and oranges. One can prefer one to the other (I prefer Kael) but comparisons are kind of moot. And humility’s nice in day-to-day affairs, but I like a writer/thinker who’s a bit arrogant – as long as they earn it (and I think Kael does, with both her wit and her knowledge). It’s refereshing, and gives us an outlet for our own repressed egos!
More importantly, though: the problem when people who aren’t really movie buffs discuss movies (and this DOES NOT apply to Sontag, who was really sensitive to formal issues and went way beyond superficial, overly narrative analysis) is that they miss what makes them movies. I look forward to that philosophy lecture you pointed me too, but to be honest it’s because of the philosophy not the movies. This is what I pointed to before with dissatisfaction – the use of movies as texts to dissect without appreciating their unique qualities.
Kael knew movies inside out in a way someone condescendingly dabbling in the medium would not. “Just watching movies” doesn’t begin to scratch the surface of her sensitivity to how films engaged the mind, imagination, and senses. I learn from her every time I read her – and I don’t learn dry facts, I learn how better to see and appreciate what I’m seeing. Incidentally, this is not about agreeing with her 100% or even 50%. My taste is actually quite different from hers, I loved a lot of films she didn’t get, and find many she praised not worth the praise. But I’m able to apply her sensitivity and wit to my own taste and am the better off for doing so, I think.
But yeah, you won’t change your mind so we’ll have to agree to disagree! Just thought I’d put in my own 2 cents.
Not so sure about Kael being more revered than filmmakers, though. Especially nowadays – when her old rival Sarris is far more in fashion – she tends to be used for criticism more than backup, besides which her own takes were so impressionistic she’s hardly the kind of “official” tastemaker one would use for that sort of thing (indeed, she spent her whole career battling those types of people). Indeed, your hatred of Kael is hardly unique – it was shared by a great many when she was alive! But her contentiousness is part of what I enjoy. Ah well…
Speaking of Rosenbaum, he’s someone who sometimes irks me – we definitely have differing sensibilities in a lot of ways (I definitely think you too are quite like-minded, ha ha) – but whose opinion I value very highly. Incidentally, I’d be interested to know what you think of what he says about academics & film studies (which I quoted below).
An addendum
There’s a bit of a discrepancy between the second quotation and the paragraph which follows. Also “My counterpoint is not that I like entertainment & art-house films alike” is a bit misleading. What I meant to respond to was your implication that it would be more honest to cite “entertainment” films which are not hugely popular, and what I meant to say was that my point was not entirely about appreciating films that differed in their purpose but also about appreciating films that differed in their success, universalism, approach, accessibility, etc. Citing the films you do alongside Eustache is still skirting mainstream successes, which is not something I want to do if said success deserve accolades. What Eustache and Spielberg are doing is quite different, but both are expressing personal visions, both are displaying a sophisticated grasp of the medium, and both are using these to reach our emotions. That E.T. does so within a framework that is more acceptable to a wider range of viewers does not invalidate it – it just means it’s an entirely different beast than the other film, and should be approached as such (though they are members of the same species, precisely the fact I find so invigorating). To scold a bear for not flying seems rather silly to me – might as well scold the bird for not walking on four legs. True, E.T. does not challenge or subvert us in the way Mother and the Whore does (though both films, incidentally, have their undercurrents of melancholy and thwarted longing), it does not appeal to us as disappointed adults on a level that awakens us to the world around us; but Mother and the Whore does not engage in mythmaking, does not remind us of the euphoric, transcendent power of imagination present in childhood, does not touch an innocent chord in us that may have been repressed. Neither film is flawed because of this – they are what they are and are each unique and powerful. The difference between us seems to be that I appreciate what both have to offer, and you only appreciate what one has to offer. And look, that’s ok – as I just said on another thread, we’ve all got blind spots – as well as debatable tastes (my aforementioned irritation with faux-dark blockbusters could fall into that category). It just gets a little irritating when you imply that there’s something narrow or limited about people who are seeing a bigger picture than you. It’s sort of like declaring the emperor has no clothes when you’re looking in the wrong direction and the parade’s going on behind you!
Wow, that was a long addendum! But a fun conversation – I look forward to continuing it at a later date…
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