Sometime in 1961, my grandmother and grandfather went to see a newly released movie in the theater. Before arriving at the cinema, they ate dinner at an Italian restaurant, where they ingested massive amounts of garlic bread. When they sat down in their seats at the theater, people immediately began moving away from them and sitting elsewhere. A few minutes passed before my grandparents realized everyone was avoiding them because their breath reeked horrendously of garlic.
When she recounted this story for me, my grandmother told me she was embarrassed for less than a minute.... because before she had time to really think about it, the movie started and what transpired on screen caused her to forget everything -- including her humiliation.
The movie my grandparents saw that evening was WEST SIDE STORY -- and the experience was such a memorable one that my grandmother was able to recall it very vividly nearly 50 years later. It was a movie that changed her life.
I was four-years-old when my parents took me to see BEAUTY AND THE BEAST in the movie theater -- and I still remember it in very lucid detail. It was the movie that set the cogs in motion for the rest of my life. I'd go so far as to say that it laid down the foundation for my morals (or at least I like to think it did). More than that, it was the first movie to make me weep (with tears falling down at age four, I had no idea what was happening to me). The best part of it is that I still get the same feeling watching it nowadays that I did when I was a child. It never gets old.
There's something about how the film's lyricist Howard Ashman was dying of AIDS while working on it. It feels like a Swan Song -- one last piece of wisdom shot out into the world, a statement that seeks to tell us (its viewers) what's really important in life. I've often supposed that it's this quality that makes BEAUTY AND THE BEAST such an indelible story that resonates and refuses to age....
But I'm not really here to talk in great detail about why WEST SIDE STORY and BEAUTY AND THE BEAST matter. My mentioning them is merely to lay down a little groundwork for what I really want to talk about.
Recently, I have decided to devote my days to ensuring that motion pictures are around for generations to come. Part of an archivist or preservationist's duty is to promote movies as not only a great means of entertainment, but also, and most especially, as a great form of communication and collective experience.
The month of February boasts a lot of trappings -- Black History Month, Valentine's Day, President's Day... On occasional years (like this one), we even get an extra day tacked onto it. It's a pretty special time -- a time that often plays host to the Academy Awards, which make it a popular period for film discussion. As film buffs already treat it as a kind of holiday season, why not also dub it "Movie Appreciation Month"?
Well, that's exactly what I'm attempting to do.
I had an interesting conversation with my pal Keenan the other day over e-mail. He sent me a couple of paragraphs on why he found MONEYBALL to be one of the best films of the year. From what he wrote, I found a considerable amount of both amusement and inspiration. From what he wrote, I realized I love listening to my friends talk about how viewing certain movies made them feel or "changed their lives."
I've always been a huge fan of essay compilations whereby various celebrities and public figures discuss THE FILM that had a huge impact on them. Why not start just such a compilation via this very blog? During the month of February, I want to collect mini-essays from friends, relatives and other sorts of acquaintances on THE FILM that had a profound influence on them. I'll post them right here, so we can all basque in how awesome movies are...
Sound like something you'd be interested in doing? Write something about a certain film, then send it to me... PLEASE.
I need to redeem myself for my previous blog entry whereby I compared a couple movies to eating a poop sandwich, which (I realize in hindsight) probably isn't that cool.
Ciao for now -- and hope to hear from you soon!
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
THE GIRL NAMED LISBETH
I embarrass pretty easily -- especially with this silly little blog. I go back and re-read old posts and lament about how ridiculous I sound. Did I really have to put up that stupid-ass picture of Katherine Heigl and T.R. Knight in my post about doing good deeds? And why on earth did I feel the need to share my sad-sap poetry? WHY?
Okay, now that I've gotten that out of the way--
I'm going to share another embarrassing little tidbit about myself -- one I'm sure I'll later feel self-conscious about sharing.
I've seen THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO (y'know the movie version that came out less than two weeks ago?)
Four times.
I'm stinkin' obsessed.
All right.
Glad I got that off my chest.
I guess I feel a little foolish because it's not even that great of a movie -- not the kind of movie a person sees four times in the theater, anyway. It's no TITANIC. If one really thinks about it -- between reading the book and seeing the Swedish movie a couple of times, I've probably witnessed the "Dragon Tattoo" story close to 7 or 8 times. I thought I put it away last year, but seeing the new movie brought it all back and, lately, I can't stop thinking about it.
However, it appears I'm not necessarily alone in this. There seem to be a few other enthusiasts who are equally spellbound and unable leave it alone.
I'm not going to sugar coat it or dance around it. We all know why the franchise works. It's certainly not the piffle of a murder mystery, or the Nazis or the middle-aged journalist. No -- it's one Lisbeth Salander... and also her weird, paradoxical bond with the middle-aged journalist.
Check out the stuff that's being written about the recently released film. In addition to the usual cavalcade of reviews, there are a lot of legitimate essays being dedicated to psychoanalyzing and breaking down the appeal of Stieg Larsson's ultimate troubled heroine.
With this blog entry, I thought I'd nix being unique in favor of adding my own hearsay to the noise that's already being made.
People talk a great deal about Lisbeth's wherewithal and sense of justice -- how despite being taken advantage of, she never allows herself to become a victim; how despite being a total waif, she can totally kick everyone's ass; how despite her looking like Sid Vicious... she's a genius.
There's inherent appeal in somebody that looks very threatening, but is actually just damaged -- somebody who, despite the damage done her at the hands of other human beings, can be loyal and even heroic. In short, it's all about contrast. In this day and age, it's always the hero that looks like the villain that captivates us most. Maybe it's because in this day and age, we live in a "nobody can be trusted" mentality and the line between good and bad is so often an ambiguous one.
Personally, I like her quiet shift in character. At the beginning of the story, she's unable to so much as look at another person in the eye while talking to him/her. By the end, she's willing to risk her life for another human being. This is the particular strength of David Fincher's film. We really attain a sense of how Lisbeth warms and grows. Pay close attention to the scene where she lies in bed next to Mikael and quietly confesses to him that she burned her father alive when she was twelve, or the scene where she plays chess with her brain-damaged former guardian, Palmgren, and tells him that she's finally made a social stride by making a friend. (Actress Rooney Mara is a friggin' virtuoso)
Anyway, I'm more than a sucker for this type of character arc -- the skittish, a-social personality who learns to trust.
There are hundreds of other aspects of Salander to be fascinated with. Clearly -- otherwise there wouldn't be so many articles and dissections. Contrasts, retribution, mystery -- the list of items that makes us empathize with and feel curious about her are a "how-to" list for writers on creating engaging characters.
But here is why I feel compelled to write this blog entry nearly four months after my last feeble post. It's something that critics and analysts have breezed by, but have never genuinely speculated on or tried deeply to evaluate.
It's the fact that author Stieg Larsson, in his younger years, witnessed the gang rape of a young woman named... wait for it... Lisbeth -- and he let it happen, not making any attempt to stop it.
This is a horrible thing -- unfortunate on many counts, but no. I'm not writing this post to talk about brutality toward women or to push some feminine agenda. I'm here to talk about writing and to add my two-cents to a popular topic of discussion.
I think about Stieg Larsson and his writing these Millenium trilogy stories -- and that he just watched as that horrible, unfortunate thing happened those many years ago -- and the nasty guilt he must've felt about it; how that girl, that Lisbeth, probably burned herself onto his conscience. I think about that girl named Lisbeth living somewhere in Larsson's subconsciousness, begging for help and retribution... and I think about how in the smallest of ways, through writing his stories, Larsson might've been able to "help" her and find a sense of peace within himself over the incident.
That's what writers are supposed to do, after all -- take things we care about and wear them on our chests. When we write about what we're uncomfortable with or ashamed of in our lives... most especially when we write to try to redeem ourselves for past mistakes we've committed -- that's what readers respond to. They feel something because WE feel something.
We feel crappy for Lisbeth because Stieg did too -- and that, for me, is the greatest storytelling lesson that DRAGON TATTOO bears.
I am inspired to NOT feel ashamed at putting my past mistakes, flaws and, yes, my embarrassments (like the fact that I've seen this particular film 4 times in the theater) out there for all to see -- like a big ol' tattoo on my back.
Because personal discomfort makes for the most engaging and emotionally resonant stories.
Thanks, Stieg Larsson, for that.
Ciao for now.
Okay, now that I've gotten that out of the way--
I'm going to share another embarrassing little tidbit about myself -- one I'm sure I'll later feel self-conscious about sharing.
I've seen THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO (y'know the movie version that came out less than two weeks ago?)
Four times.
I'm stinkin' obsessed.
All right.
Glad I got that off my chest.
I guess I feel a little foolish because it's not even that great of a movie -- not the kind of movie a person sees four times in the theater, anyway. It's no TITANIC. If one really thinks about it -- between reading the book and seeing the Swedish movie a couple of times, I've probably witnessed the "Dragon Tattoo" story close to 7 or 8 times. I thought I put it away last year, but seeing the new movie brought it all back and, lately, I can't stop thinking about it.
However, it appears I'm not necessarily alone in this. There seem to be a few other enthusiasts who are equally spellbound and unable leave it alone.
I'm not going to sugar coat it or dance around it. We all know why the franchise works. It's certainly not the piffle of a murder mystery, or the Nazis or the middle-aged journalist. No -- it's one Lisbeth Salander... and also her weird, paradoxical bond with the middle-aged journalist.
Check out the stuff that's being written about the recently released film. In addition to the usual cavalcade of reviews, there are a lot of legitimate essays being dedicated to psychoanalyzing and breaking down the appeal of Stieg Larsson's ultimate troubled heroine.
With this blog entry, I thought I'd nix being unique in favor of adding my own hearsay to the noise that's already being made.
People talk a great deal about Lisbeth's wherewithal and sense of justice -- how despite being taken advantage of, she never allows herself to become a victim; how despite being a total waif, she can totally kick everyone's ass; how despite her looking like Sid Vicious... she's a genius.
There's inherent appeal in somebody that looks very threatening, but is actually just damaged -- somebody who, despite the damage done her at the hands of other human beings, can be loyal and even heroic. In short, it's all about contrast. In this day and age, it's always the hero that looks like the villain that captivates us most. Maybe it's because in this day and age, we live in a "nobody can be trusted" mentality and the line between good and bad is so often an ambiguous one.
Personally, I like her quiet shift in character. At the beginning of the story, she's unable to so much as look at another person in the eye while talking to him/her. By the end, she's willing to risk her life for another human being. This is the particular strength of David Fincher's film. We really attain a sense of how Lisbeth warms and grows. Pay close attention to the scene where she lies in bed next to Mikael and quietly confesses to him that she burned her father alive when she was twelve, or the scene where she plays chess with her brain-damaged former guardian, Palmgren, and tells him that she's finally made a social stride by making a friend. (Actress Rooney Mara is a friggin' virtuoso)
Anyway, I'm more than a sucker for this type of character arc -- the skittish, a-social personality who learns to trust.
There are hundreds of other aspects of Salander to be fascinated with. Clearly -- otherwise there wouldn't be so many articles and dissections. Contrasts, retribution, mystery -- the list of items that makes us empathize with and feel curious about her are a "how-to" list for writers on creating engaging characters.
But here is why I feel compelled to write this blog entry nearly four months after my last feeble post. It's something that critics and analysts have breezed by, but have never genuinely speculated on or tried deeply to evaluate.
It's the fact that author Stieg Larsson, in his younger years, witnessed the gang rape of a young woman named... wait for it... Lisbeth -- and he let it happen, not making any attempt to stop it.
This is a horrible thing -- unfortunate on many counts, but no. I'm not writing this post to talk about brutality toward women or to push some feminine agenda. I'm here to talk about writing and to add my two-cents to a popular topic of discussion.
I think about Stieg Larsson and his writing these Millenium trilogy stories -- and that he just watched as that horrible, unfortunate thing happened those many years ago -- and the nasty guilt he must've felt about it; how that girl, that Lisbeth, probably burned herself onto his conscience. I think about that girl named Lisbeth living somewhere in Larsson's subconsciousness, begging for help and retribution... and I think about how in the smallest of ways, through writing his stories, Larsson might've been able to "help" her and find a sense of peace within himself over the incident.
That's what writers are supposed to do, after all -- take things we care about and wear them on our chests. When we write about what we're uncomfortable with or ashamed of in our lives... most especially when we write to try to redeem ourselves for past mistakes we've committed -- that's what readers respond to. They feel something because WE feel something.
We feel crappy for Lisbeth because Stieg did too -- and that, for me, is the greatest storytelling lesson that DRAGON TATTOO bears.
I am inspired to NOT feel ashamed at putting my past mistakes, flaws and, yes, my embarrassments (like the fact that I've seen this particular film 4 times in the theater) out there for all to see -- like a big ol' tattoo on my back.
Because personal discomfort makes for the most engaging and emotionally resonant stories.
Thanks, Stieg Larsson, for that.
Ciao for now.
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