When I was first seriously delving into appreciating film as an art I'd frequently find myself in passionate arguments with others about a particular movie, actor or filmmaker. Attacking films I adored was to insult me personally.
It took a long time for my understanding to evolve to the point where such discussions brought the thought: "Oh, this poor soul! They just didn't get it!"
If I love a film it's because I've connected with it; the director's message or purpose has made it through my thick skull. If that doesn't happen, we're apt to label it a failure.
Many of my favorites didn't earn their spot on the list of favorites after the first viewing. Often watching a movie is merely planting the seed for future appreciation.
Once buried in the subconscious, it often takes time for roots to grow. The trees that will bear the sweetest fruit take the longest time. Quick-growing sprouts may fade quickly.
And of course hordes of films will never penetrate my cerebrum's topsoil. It's like in Luke 8 when Jesus tells the parable of the farmer scattering his seeds. Some fall in rich soil, others tumble into rocks or thorns.
With maturity comes admitting personal shortcomings. I've found that I have a real hard time appreciating Alfred Hitchcock's movies. Nevertheless I still recognize many as important.
I used to know this guy who was into movies in an entirely different way. He used to talk my ear off about Jean-Claude Van Damme. It was almost as bad as being forced to watch those movies.
I can just imagine being strapped into a seat, eyes held open "A Clockwork Orange" style for an unholy Van Damme marathon. (Truly a torture session that'd make the Spanish inquisitors flinch.)
I'm not going to get into the debate as to whether such films are actually "art," but regardless, he was able to tap into and find meaning in films that I couldn't.
I've always drifted toward triple D films -- dark, depressing, and disturbing. Two weeks ago I was thrilled to finally see a notorious French art film called "Irreversible," dubbed by Newsweek as "the most walked out of movie of 2002."
It starts with a vicious act of vengeance (a man's face smashed to oblivion with a fire extinguisher) then proceeds backwards to the act that brought it (a brutal, ten-minute, single take, rape sequence.)
Obviously most film-goers and many critics don't get past the horrors of the film to find its purpose and meaning. For some, such movies are the same as Van Damme's are to me -- inaccessible. Yet these are the films I look forward to -- the ones that'll grab me and beat me to a pulp. Yes, I am a proud cinematic masochist. I've always admired films that dare to show difficult truth.
The important question to consider is "What films are worth the effort to try to extract meaning?" Perhaps not Van Damme's repertoire. Maybe some of the so-called "great" classic and foreign films critics rave about.
The real kicker is that this manner of thinking extends much further than the movie house. It applies to all the arts and to much of life. It's the essence of open-mindedness. The world can really open up when we stop stamping easy judgments on every idea and artistic endeavor.
Write to David at
dmswindle@bsu.edu
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