I just finished watching a movie that made my eyes ache. Throat too. Life as a House. It was loaned to me weeks and weeks ago, and since I had decided that it would be too stressful for my husband, I went ahead and put it in this morning.
I enjoyed the movie, and I'll probably have to mull it over for a week or so before I can figure out what I really think of it. Hayden Christianson was just as pouty and whiny in it as he was in Star Wars II & III with rather more excuse, and there is a lot in the movie about marriage and divorce which is tricky. Jena Malone, as usual, made some highly questionable decisions. Anyway, there's a lot to think about.
This led me to wonder about the various reactions that movies can provoke. For instance, my husband doesn't care for films that feature a large amount of familial or employment related stress. He won't watch The Office with me because he gets enough of work at work. Other people don't enjoy films that are "depressing." Some people generally avoid stories that are sad.
Michael has sometimes observed, "You're crying. That must have been a really good book," which means, I often really enjoy the sad stuff. I'm often skeptical of the kind of manipulation that allows a film or series to make me feel the way I want to feel at any given point in the story. But I've also often thought that you have to know what kind of movie you are getting going in, and then accept the conventions of that genre, or, alternatively, discover the mode of the film you are observing and then realize that certain absurdities, or required suspensions of disbelief are to be expected. This is what enjoying a film or tv series is about. If you like films you become very skilled at suspending disbelief, or you find the genre you can stand and then stick with it.
Perhaps this explains why some people don't generally enjoy films. There are other factors, of course. I've noticed recently that I often have trouble interpreting images that are presented to me on screen. For instance in an episode of Little House the driver was flung from a carriage during an accident and it took a while for me to figure out that the camera was panning across the drivers arm showing us that he was dead. At times I have difficulty figuring out where my attention is supposed to be directed. Then again, it drives me crazy when cinematographers force perspective by use of selective focus.
3 comments:
I like movies that make me think, or are entertaining, and that have a happy ending. I feel like life has enough stuff to cry over. I have to be careful to not watch horrific scenes in movies because I am so impressionable. A war movie, a horror movie, a movie based on the holocaust, etc. can affect me so strongly it's almost as if I was really there.
Remember though; during the filming time of The Little House on the Prairie that most of the filming industry was greatly restrained. You never saw “dead people” and hardly were audiences to know married couples slept in the same bed. Therefore, the need to force perspective by use of selective focus. They force you to think. Wow, interesting isn’t it? Interesting also how in today’s cinema, one does not have much to ponder or inquire. They put it all out there for all to see…nothing is left to the imagination. Yet another missing token from our society…imagination. :)
Having said all that, I do enjoy your blog and enjoy how it makes me think.
Thanks again,
Anonymous
Actually, I haven't been bothered so much by the forced perspective used in Little House. They are far more likely to frame their shots in a particular way, rather than using the selective focus that I find so irritating. The only examples of selective focus I can think of at the moment are in the daytime soap operas of when I was a little girl, and Star Trek: The Next Generation. I always want to look at the person who is out of focus so I can see their facial expressions, and sometimes this makes my eyes hurt as my eyes try to focus something that isn't meant to be.
Little House on the Prairie may actually be a bit beyond the earlier restraints of the film industry. I'll give you some examples:
In one episode Mary and Laura are skinny-dipping and there's one shot where the girl's naked shoulders are shown while they carry on a conversation. In one episode set in Winoka there is a big storm and one of the blind children are lost in it. Mary and her fiance Adam are out looking for the girl, and when they find her hiding under a porch, they are reconciled to the possibility of caring for a sighted child. There are several minutes of footage of them kissing each other huddled up under that porch.
Caroline and Charles are often shown in bed together, and I think there are several episodes involving dead bodies layed out in state. Carrie makes a run for the outhouse in almost every episode. There's no sex on screen, but this particular show offers a heavy dose of reality.
It's funny to notice in a show like Little House how much time is devoted to watching people walk.
I guess the question for modern film-makers is not so much whether they are trying too hard, or not trying hard enough, but rather, are they trying for the right things. The last Jasper Fforde novel I read seems to suggest that the problem lies in our lack of distance vision. We have no attention for the future, only for the immediate. Perhaps this is a problem for contemporary film makers as well.
Even though the earlier constraints imposed by the film industry were frustrating, at least they had the potential to encourage creative story-telling. Unfortunately most films of the Hollywood era were formulaic. I don't recall when or if a goal of beating the system from within the system filmicly ever came into play.
Who do you see doing imaginative and creative work these days?
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