I’m Always Home. I’m Uncool.

Cinema hasn’t been invented yet? What?! Of course! It makes so much sense to me now! The goal of filmmakers (even the ones that make crazy fantastical films such as The Lord of the Rings) is to make a realistic world for us, the viewer. Whether that world is actually a mirror of real life (Saving Private Ryan – esque) or if it’s a fantasy world (thank you Peter Jackson), the filmmaker wants you to believe that you have been transported to that place, that time, that situation. But what if cinema hasn’t been invented yet? What if we haven’t reached that pivotal point where the line between real life and film blurs so much that they are indistinguishable from one another? That blows my mind.

You know what blows my mind even more? This thought I had a few minutes after class: what if we have reached that point and have surpassed it? What if, in our attempt to make things more and more life-like we have gone above and beyond life-like; we have created our own fantasy. Like someone was saying today in class (I’m sorry I have no idea as to your name!), films today give us a skewed perception of reality. What if we have gone so far past the reality that we know to exist that we have now created a NEW reality?

I don’t know about you, but my head is about to explode.

ESTRAGON: Let’s go.

VLADIMIR: We can’t.

ESTRAGON: Why not?

VLADIMIR: We’re waiting for Godot.

ESTRAGON: Ah! 

PERSON 1: I hated that movie.

PERSON 2: That was a good movie!

PERSON 1: You liked it?

PERSON 2: No, I hated it, but it was a good movie.

PERSON 1: Ahhh!

I think that Serena and Robyn both bring up a very valid point: does this whole debate about liking a film verses it being “good” even really matter? Obviously it matters to Bordwell and Thompson. But does it really affect the average movie-goer? My bet has to be on “no.” The average American will probably not pay attention to movie reviews, but rather go and see a movie they think they will like based on the movie trailer. And, if the average American movie-goer does pay attention to reviews, I imagine that most of them don’t pay attention to who writes them, such as the father of the She’s My Rushmore blog owner (I’m sorry for not knowing your name). Granted, there are those people out there who do actually care if a movie is “good” or not. I can be that way myself. Now, what is “good?” I have no idea. Is it fantastic cinematography? Is it superb acting? Is it an original storyline? Is it a famous speech? Is it camera motion, or lighting? Who knows? There are many schools of thought on this subject. So how can we know for sure what is “good?” Well, we can listen to the critics, but I personally don’t like that idea, because I don’t care for other people telling me what I ought to consider “good;” or, we can each have our own individual ideas of what makes a “good” film. I’m willing to bet that there will be some similarities in our ways of thinking, and that it’s those similarities would create the canon of “good” or “classic” film.

But then again, like so many of you have said in your blogs, and in class: what does it really matter? If you like the movie, what does it matter if it’s also “good” or not?

After class today, I was thinking about all of the movies I had seen that had previously been books. Usually, my reaction to these films has always been, “oh, well, the book was way better.” Of course there is always indignation at the filmmaker for cutting out your favorite quip or butchering your favorite line. I had never really thought about the artistic elements of adapting a book into a movie before.

My mission? To go to these next two movie screenings with an open mind and sharp eyes. I’m going to try and figure out what the filmmakers were trying to do with my favorite book.

If anyone else has a favorite book that was turned into a movie (or even just a book that you liked) I’d like to know your thoughts on all of this. I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone speak up in favor of the movie, only ever in favor of the book.

Also, along the same thought process: Harry Potter. The last book is coming out soon, as is the fifth movie. Great if you’re a Harry Potter fan, like me. Even better now that I’m think about adaptation. I have always loved the Harry Potter books, ever since I first read them in the sixth grade (wow, was I that long ago…). The movies I thought were great visually, everything looked just like I saw it in my head, but I was always disappointed with how the plot had changed. I then decided to not even connect the movies to the books, but rather to view them as separate entities. I now judge the Harry Potter films by completely different criteria than I use to judge the books. I now think that that was a bad decision on my part.

Here’s my challenge to everyone who has ever had a favorite book “butchered” by Hollywood: go and watch the movie again, this time keeping in mind what we learned about adaptation in class. I have a feeling that I’m going to be surprised at my increase in appreciation for movies I have previously disliked.

Talking about shot duration in class today reminded my of the film clip/shot analysis I had to do for 245. I chose to look at a (4 ½ minute) clip from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. In this clip Joel (Jim Carey) has a conversation with his neighbor, goes into his apartment, puts on pajamas and takes a pill from Lacuna Inc., the company that is going to be erasing his memory. The two men who are going to erase his memory (Elijah Wood and Mark Ruffalo) enter after Joel has fallen asleep in his kitchen, and they move him to his bed. Joel then begins to relive memories of his ex-girlfriend, Clementine (Kate Winslet) from the most recent to the oldest.

I took a leaf out of Dr. C’s book and made a spreadsheet:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The events leading up to the string of one second shots are Joel’s conversation with his neighbor, Frank, about his ex-girlfriend (although this is unknown to Frank). Joel then leaves Frank to go to his apartment where we have the string on one second shots: Joel opening bag containing pajamas, Joel putting on pajama pants, Joel putting on pajama top, buttons pajama shirt, rummages through paper bag, removes pill bottle from bag, fills glass of water, opens bottle and puts pill in hand, Joel takes pill. The next shot that follows is the longest one that we’ve had yet: 17 seconds. Following the rapid-fire single-second shots, this is a break for us to catch our breath.

The rest of the shots vary in length, but seem to have similar patterns: one long shot followed by shorter shorts. The longest short (21 seconds) takes place almost in the middle of this sequence of shots, and that is the shot that contains Joel’s first re-encountered memory (relevant, for my paper, not for this blog)

All this talk about genre in out FTC books has got me thinking. Here is a quote that I believe can help to clarify what I’m going to say: “When is a musical not a musical? When it has Elvis Presley in it” (Altman 681). 

And another one I just think is funny: “Genres were always – and continue to be – treated as if they spring full-blown from the head of Zeus” (Altman 682). 

So far it looks like all this talk about genre is a huge fight about semantic v. syntactic. Now I’m not going to say which is right or wrong. I have my own theory. I think that deep down, we all know innately what makes up a genre. Like the quote about Elvis. Okay, so his movies have lots of music in it. But we know those aren’t musicals. Musicals are like Singing in the Rain or Chicago or Newsies. And innately we all know this. I think it’s too difficult to try and list what belongs in a genre and then gauge films by some time of genre chart (think to the great scene in The Dead Poet’s Society where Robin Williams has the class rip out the first page of their textbooks, the one with the chart on it for gauging the poem’s greatness). Besides, movies almost always fall into more than one genre. A perfect example, and those of you who took 245 with Dr. C ought to remember this: Citizen Kane. It’s a biography… no, wait, it’s a mystery… no, wait, it’s a romantic comedy… a thriller… and the list goes on and on. To use a more contemporary example: the TV show Firefly (and it’s movie companion Serenity). It is quite obviously a Western. The Capitan, Mal Reynolds, is the perfect cowboy; stoic, troubled past, a desire to help people in need, an air of aimlessness, not always morally correct, never shows his true romantic interest. This list could be longer, but I think you get my point. He dresses the part, walks the walk, and talks the talk. Oh yeah… but this all takes place in the future, in SPACE. Does that mean it’s not a Western? In my mind: of course not. There’s both the semantic argument (cowboys, outlaws, desert-like atmosphere) and the syntactic (good v. evil). And when we see it we think Western. I don’t really think Sci Fi, although they are on a spaceship hopping from planet to planet.