Updated: 8/16/15; 18:38:40


pedantic nuthatch
Life in a Northern Virginia suburb of Washington, D.C. B.M.A.T.C., and Etruscan typewriter erasers. Blogged by David Gorsline.

Thursday, 3 July 2003

Some time in 1998, Diane Patterson asked,

I leave it to you, folks: what do you think is patronizing crap? What do you hate about movies and TV today? When was the last time your intelligence was insulted, and how? Or better yet, when was the last time you felt complimented by a film, enjoyed its subtlety, felt that it was worthy of your intelligence?
Slightly edited, here is the message I sent her. It does a good job of explaining my aesthetic. Some of the movies referred to have already been lost in the depths of time.
I'm generally not interested in big 90s-era special effects pictures. I let them go by, and thereby avoid having my intelligence insulted, most of the time.

What am I looking for in a movie?

First, I suppose you could say that I often go for the intellectual, "pretentious" film. When Chinatown came out, I loved it. Still do.

Like many have said, I want a movie to take me into its world. This could be a world of heightened emotion, or a different culture, or a fantasy land, or a different time of life, or just a world of shadows and light. But I want to use my imagination, too: I want to meet the movie halfway. I don't need Dolby sound and Cinerama to force that world onto my retinas and tympani.

Therefore, for me, a movie ought to work well transferred to video, or at least most of it ought to. The essential elements haven't been lost in the transfer to the little screen.

Am I going to want to see this movie in 10 years' time? That's my measure of movie excellence. Better yet, is this a movie that that brings me to a dead stop when I'm channel-surfing, something that I have to watch at least one scene from? This has happened to me with movies like The Conversation and Double Indemnity.

One of the aspects of art is that it is made in the context of what has gone before: there is a dialogue with the past. The context of most moviemaking seems to be "What got the teenagers in the seats last summer? Do it again." That's commerce, not art. (Not that there's anything wrong with commerce.)

As you are a writer, I fear you discount the contributions of other designers on the picture. Movies are essentially a medium of images in motion. You can tell a lot of story with just one tracking shot, without dialogue.

The paradox of plot is that the ending should feel natural and inevitable, and yet there must be a twist, an unpredictability. No twist, and the picture is a boring cliche. No inevitability, and the narrative feels arbitrary, and there's nothing pulling the story forward.

Enough rambling: here are some examples of what I've hated and loved recently.

I sat in the theatre watching Wag the Dog and wondered what everyone found so damn funny. I thought Jerry Maguire was a hateful little movie. I didn't believe for a moment that Jerry had acquired a conscience.

The Sweet Hereafter made me cry (not a requirement for a good film, but it helps). Ian Holm rocks my world. The complex narrative structure, which I feared would be difficult, was "just right" for me.

I've only ever seen Atlantic City on video—a really great picture. A love letter to the end of an era. And lest you think I have no sense of humor, I liked The Big Lebowski.

PS: Even though I'm a Mamet geek, The Spanish Prisoner left me cold. I think the fault is Rebecca Pigeon's.

PPS: I've always thought that You Can't Take It with You is ripe for updating to the 90s onstage. Say, Donald and Rheba become a gay couple; Essie practices Tai Chi. Maybe there's a movie in that. Maybe not.

posted: 9:10:24 PM  




July 2003
Sun Mon Tue Wed Thu Fri Sat
    1 2 3 4 5
6 7 8 9 10 11 12
13 14 15 16 17 18 19
20 21 22 23 24 25 26
27 28 29 30 31    
Jun   Aug

just me
D. Gorsline, Proprietor

XFN Friendly

the ageless project

jenett.radio.console.v1.1
theme designed by
jenett.radio

Copyright 2003-2006 © David L. Gorsline