Without hate, would there be love?
So, I had two significant media moments yesterday. First of all, I discovered that the entire human race has been declared TIME magazine's People? of the Year, for using YouTube and Blogger. Good job, us. This led to some heavy-handed, the sky is falling pontificating about the media-driven nature of society. For instance, we all saw the mighty George Allen, slain by a slightly more darkly skinned UVa student with a camera. The basic debate apparently, came down to this, either we are a people who are no longer forced to interact with opposing viewpoints or we are a people who use the power of the internets to tell the stories that big media malignly ignores. Of course, if one goes on YouTube, one will notice a dearth of viewpoints altogether. Of course, advice from a Ninja on buying Christmas gifts, and Rachel Ray shilling for Julia-Louis Dreyfus shilling for big business are useful, but my mind has neither been expanded, nor my fundamental philosophical principles reinforced by assenting viewpoints. Maybe Kim Jong-Il uses videos of kittens farting on YouTube in his secret Gulag as a torture device, but I have a feeling that the more things change, the more they stay the same.
For instance, when our ancestors first started using tools to break open the bones of dead antelope for the tasty, delicious marrow inside, I'm sure there was some hater that assumed the new generation of hominids was heading straight for the underrealm in a handbasket. Of course, there were some shamans who probably endorsed the new trend and others who looked at this food-gathering method as one big leap into the abyss. However, after all the females left the fuddy-duddies who were still eating insects and leaves, evolution had spoke its will. At the end of the day, our lives really come down to eating, sleeping, defecating, copulating, and eventually and inevitably, expiring. If one peruses the videos on YouTube, that is the majority of content one will find. Even if one reads the greats of philosophy or theology, at the end of the day, that's what these things are all about.
Which brings us to my second important media experience yesterday, Stranger Than Fiction. Since he is my long lost identical twin, the only Will Ferrell movie I will never go see is Bewitched. I'm eagerly awaiting Winter Passing to be delivered to my mailbox, I don't care what the critics say. However, here's a hater from Philly who's too busy choking on his own cheesesteak to understand film.
Of course, after this, Mr. Burns, goes on to diss on Monster's Ball, which if nothing else, gave us the most unflinchingly realistic take on our unflinchingly contradictory human nature. However, I merely mention this reviewer to suggest that he is completely and utterly wrong. The script is the tightest and most thematically wrought script I've seen all year--not that I've seen a tremendous number of movies--and its glorious cinematography (all shot in Chi-town, baby) and dedicated performances give this film the polished luster of a new book of poetry. Dustin Hoffman gives the performance I wish he gave in I Heart Huckabees.
There are five thematic levels which I could identify, each in hierarchical structure, which guide the picture. The central "joke" of the movie is simply a screenwriter wondering if a major motion picture can be made surrounding the death of a sympathetic protagonist. To flesh this theme out, the second, also obviously structured question is, "Would such a movie be a tragedy or a comedy by nature, and is such a dichotomy legitimate and ultimate, or is there any middle ground between these two basic genres?" Thirdly, there is a question of whether we control our destiny or if our destiny controls us. The fourth and to me ultimately the most interesting question addressed is "What do we owe society?"
It is this fourth question which most attracted me to the movie, and which clearly most animated the director. To pose this question the screenwriter carefully chose two main characters, one an IRS agent whose sense of duty and order is nonpareil, but who is clearly alienated from society on an individual level. He has mastered eating, sleeping, and defecating, but has somehow missed the memo on copulating and expiring. His romantic foil completes the chiasmus by having a bleeding heart and an overdeveloped sense of personal compassion, but lacking any feeling of obligation to the idea of a society or, at least, the nation-state.
Therefore, the last question formally addressed by the movie is, "What does it mean to face death?" To some, the movie, unsatisfyingly provides an answer, by structuring its ending in a thoroughly planned appendix. To me, however, the answer was incredibly satisfying, as it echoed the consensus of philosophers from Siddhartha Gautama, through Plato, Epicurus, Jesus, Mohamed, and all the way to Nietsche and Sartre. Because all of these diverse thinkers pose the question slightly differently, if would seem they all have different answers--but, the answer remains subtly the same.
For instance, when our ancestors first started using tools to break open the bones of dead antelope for the tasty, delicious marrow inside, I'm sure there was some hater that assumed the new generation of hominids was heading straight for the underrealm in a handbasket. Of course, there were some shamans who probably endorsed the new trend and others who looked at this food-gathering method as one big leap into the abyss. However, after all the females left the fuddy-duddies who were still eating insects and leaves, evolution had spoke its will. At the end of the day, our lives really come down to eating, sleeping, defecating, copulating, and eventually and inevitably, expiring. If one peruses the videos on YouTube, that is the majority of content one will find. Even if one reads the greats of philosophy or theology, at the end of the day, that's what these things are all about.
Which brings us to my second important media experience yesterday, Stranger Than Fiction. Since he is my long lost identical twin, the only Will Ferrell movie I will never go see is Bewitched. I'm eagerly awaiting Winter Passing to be delivered to my mailbox, I don't care what the critics say. However, here's a hater from Philly who's too busy choking on his own cheesesteak to understand film.
Finally, a Charlie Kaufman movie for people who are too stupid to understand Charlie Kaufman movies...A logistical and thematic disaster on so many levels it’s honestly tough to sit down and choose where to start, Stranger Than Fiction makes no sense—a complaint that probably wouldn’t register if the movie had been carried off with anything resembling wit, style, verve or excitement.
Of course, after this, Mr. Burns, goes on to diss on Monster's Ball, which if nothing else, gave us the most unflinchingly realistic take on our unflinchingly contradictory human nature. However, I merely mention this reviewer to suggest that he is completely and utterly wrong. The script is the tightest and most thematically wrought script I've seen all year--not that I've seen a tremendous number of movies--and its glorious cinematography (all shot in Chi-town, baby) and dedicated performances give this film the polished luster of a new book of poetry. Dustin Hoffman gives the performance I wish he gave in I Heart Huckabees.
There are five thematic levels which I could identify, each in hierarchical structure, which guide the picture. The central "joke" of the movie is simply a screenwriter wondering if a major motion picture can be made surrounding the death of a sympathetic protagonist. To flesh this theme out, the second, also obviously structured question is, "Would such a movie be a tragedy or a comedy by nature, and is such a dichotomy legitimate and ultimate, or is there any middle ground between these two basic genres?" Thirdly, there is a question of whether we control our destiny or if our destiny controls us. The fourth and to me ultimately the most interesting question addressed is "What do we owe society?"
It is this fourth question which most attracted me to the movie, and which clearly most animated the director. To pose this question the screenwriter carefully chose two main characters, one an IRS agent whose sense of duty and order is nonpareil, but who is clearly alienated from society on an individual level. He has mastered eating, sleeping, and defecating, but has somehow missed the memo on copulating and expiring. His romantic foil completes the chiasmus by having a bleeding heart and an overdeveloped sense of personal compassion, but lacking any feeling of obligation to the idea of a society or, at least, the nation-state.
Therefore, the last question formally addressed by the movie is, "What does it mean to face death?" To some, the movie, unsatisfyingly provides an answer, by structuring its ending in a thoroughly planned appendix. To me, however, the answer was incredibly satisfying, as it echoed the consensus of philosophers from Siddhartha Gautama, through Plato, Epicurus, Jesus, Mohamed, and all the way to Nietsche and Sartre. Because all of these diverse thinkers pose the question slightly differently, if would seem they all have different answers--but, the answer remains subtly the same.
posted by lucretius at 7:13 AM
1 Comments:
Interesting you should mention "Monster's Ball." I hated that movie. Maybe because it tried to soak in its message of how bad humanity really is or how bad we can be. It was just so overdone and thus seemingly pointless. And no matter how hot Halle Berry is, the sex scene was utterly pointless.
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