The Death Cycle of Art

Computer imagery is an important part of the movie making process these days.  There was a time when the advancements made in the field were impressive.  Remember how amazing Jurassic Park and Terminator 2 were?  But...the spectacle has worn off, my friends.  And not because computer animation is some cold, faceless, point and click process.  There's actually a lot of work that goes into it.  People work long hours building models, adding skeletons, calculating physics...  It can take a week to make three seconds of film.  Well...it used to.  I'm not sure how much faster we've gotten since I was studying it in college.  But it takes a lot of work.  The problem is that people have simply gotten used to it.  Hollywood produces so many movies a year, that you can't help but think its getting easier an easier to build a monster and have it wreck a completely digital New York.  People tune out when they see CGI, claiming that it's like watching someone else play a video game.  That...sounds....familiar.

Let's look at other art forms for a bit.  Painting.  You know all those classical paintings you've seen?  Perfectly rendered human bodies and backgrounds, amazing poses, the light and shadow...  See, most people probably don't even care about all that.  There are so many of those pictures that a lot of us think that THAT is what any artist worth their paints can do.  Anything less than that is atrocious, but anything on that level is simply...on par.  Photorealism?  Even if it's created ith paint, people look for a second and then look away.  It's just too realistic to think much of it.  But have you noticed that anyone who has actually studied art seems far more impressed?

Ever tried to write a song?  Play a musical instrument?  There are so many songs out these days that it's hard for anyone to know what talent is until a new style of music comes out.  Then someone masters it.  THEN we're impressed.  But at that point, no one can get any better.  And all the new students of that style study the masters and...bam.  It becomes commonplace.  (of course, the oldest styles will ALWAYS seem to require the most talent for some reason)  And the only people who really know how hard these musicians are trying are those that have truly tried themselves.

So let's look at CGI.  We've got studios churning out movies with top notch effects.  But no one really knows how it's done.  What's worse is that older people seem to think any youngster with a computer can do it.  I recently read a movie critic's review that said, "Any smart teenager with a computer can create excellent looking monsters.  So why should we be impressed by this movie's effects?".  And...he's got a point.  When decent software is becoming as accessible as a pencil and paper (to people of a certain tax bracket), the wonder of CGI gets reduced to the level of wonder you get when you see a kid drawing a decent looking comic book.  Oh, it's cool for a moment...but only a moment.  And then, the magic is gone.  The money will disappear, too.  So how can movie-makers capture the magic again?

Stop motion seems to be the only thing that gets any respect these days, probably because people don't see it as something that takes talent so much as something that takes tremendous amount of patience.  And, we only get one stop motion movie every two or three years.  And there are only a few studios doing it.  People may forever be impressed by stop motion.  They look back at classic films, and still seem amazed by the skeletons in Jason and the Argonauts.

The sad thing is that audiences are moved only by two things when it comes to entertainment.  A tremendous amount of effort, or a technique they can't yet comprehend.  And only one of those lasts forever.

I wonder what's next?

Avengers and American Ambition

I had the wonderful experience of watching "The Avengers" in Japan, flanked by two young ladies who have absolutely no interest in superheroes whatsoever.  You might think this is sarcasm, but it really isn't.  I'm grateful for the chance to see the movie away from my fellow Americans, dorks and nerds born and raised to know the difference between every costumed crusader and the company that created them.  Out here, superheroes are beyond foreign.  They're jokes, actually.  The people simply cannot connect, and immediately chalk movies like The Avengers up to typical American braggadocio and violence.  So, being out here, you don't get caught up in the hype.  On the contrary, you find yourself defending every little part of American culture (yes, it exists, whether you approve of it or not).  So, after I saw the Avengers, I found myself trying to find a deeper meaning in all the witty dialogue, action and explosions.  And, well...I found something.  Bear with me, because my English has diminished a bit during my stay here, and I may very well lack the words to state this properly.

I'm gonna just say it outright:  the Avengers is the great American connundrum.  On the international stage, Americans hold a lot of power.  So much power it's embarrassing.  Unfortunately, the sources of this power don't exactly work together very well.  In fact, they find themselves at odds with each other on a daily basis.  Avengers takes these four main sources, and personifies them each with a different comic book hero.  First up we have our patriotism, obviously embodied by the US Ideal, Captain America.  Next would be our religion, perfectly summed up in the self-righteous, condescending Thor.  The third , our wealth and the arrogance it breeds, is found in Iron Man.  And finally, our internal conflicts that rip this country apart and bring out such anger...anger that becomes ambition, are carried by everyone's favorite green meanie, the Hulk.

As our movie starts, and even before, these four sources of American Greatness are split.  They are comfortable in their own worlds, and have no time for each other.  And in their isolation, we have an excellent symbol of a manipulative government, Nick Fury, taking charge of all sorts of clandestine activities.  That eyepatch, is at once a metaphor for the limited vision of the government and the hiding of its true intentions.  The eyes are the windows to the soul, after all.  At this point, the Liar, Loki, enters, spouting about his thoughts on freedom.  Freedom...which is such an important facet of American culture, and he just turns it on its head.  Give it up, and we will be safe and secure.  The first to fall is Hawkeye.  As cheesy as it seems, Hawkeye is our eyes, our compass, and it is his blinding that kicks everything off.  He is misguided and mislead to perpetuate the lie, even though some part of him knows it's wrong.  Oh, I'm sure we can draw lots of parallels to our nation's moral compass once the wrong people get a hold of it.

Enter Black Widow, who I'm gonna call our "ears".  The master interrogator.  The interviewer.  The one listening to what's under the underneath to find ulterior motives, expose it and hopefully get everything back on track.  In a perfect world?  She's the press.  The perfect press.  Hey, maybe she did a few things wrong in the past, but ol' Hawkeye saw that she could be used for something good.  And now she's working to get him back.  The first person she visits?  Anger.  Hulk.  Literally the sleeping giant.  She doesn't force him, and she doesn't instigate.  She just calmly gives him facts, and a choice.  Luckily, he joins in.  It'd be nice if our own media were so kind...

Next up, Patriotism, Captain America, an old fashioned notion who blindly follows Fury's orders to get to Germany and stop Loki.  But once one of those sources of American Greatness jumps in, they ALL have to jump in to show who's more awesome.  Yep, Iron Man and Thor both come rushing forward to show off who is the most capable of bringing in the Liar for questioning.  And even...to whom the Liar should answer for his crimes.  

Of course, bringing Loki in the midst of our heroes triggers the big conflict.  And a little argument over who's doing what becomes an all out battle to repair a sinking (falling) ship and keep destructive anger at bay.  Those four big sources of American Greatness are trying to get things under control, but they just can't...not until all the chaos results in the death of the Common Man, Agent Phil Coulson.  That was a heartbreaking moment for me.  But it galvanized the team.  Sure, Fury manipulated it a bit, but...that's good...right?  And finally, Widow knocks some sense into Hawkeye, as the press should do, and he was ready to keep them all aware of their surroundings during the final battle.  Huzzah.

So, what am I saying?  I'm saying that The Avengers shows us that those four disparate wells of power that we struggle with every day, the slowly kill us all as they fight for control...if we could find a way to bring them together, we really do become an amazing nation.  But is that a good thing?  The questions raised at the end of the film are very poignant.  Yeah, the Avengers came together and saved the day against some faceless alien army (and you know America loves fighting faceless foreign armies)...but they opened the door to all sorts of new problems.  And...was the coming of that faceless enemy their own fault?  Does our struggle to achieve greatness and protect the world cause more destruction?  How does the American dream hurt the rest of the world?  I'm glad they didn't try to answer those questions yet.  

But I'll tell you one thing: few people in Japan can see the meaning of the struggle in the Avengers.  They just know its destroying their culture and their kids brains.  Life imitates art, I guess...

4, 5, 2, 3, 6 and then the rest...

By now, I'm sure everyone has heard enough of the lamentations of Star Wars fans. George Lucas, former heir apparent to Joseph Campbell, is a man now known for cannibalizing his own story by tacking on a few Special Editions and poorly planned prequels. There are documentaries and essays all dedicated to bashing all the man's recent efforts to keep his opus alive, and with this new 3D Episode I coming out, that sore is going to get reopened.

Most people say, "Just don't watch the prequels". But I was surprised no one had successfully attempted to redeem the man's story, not necessarily by ignoring all of the stuff he's done lately, but by including it (well...most of it). But then a friend of mine told me about this:

Machete's Recommended Star Wars Viewing Order

I had to share it. I haven't tried it out yet, but I will. The order in which the chapters of story is told is something I've always wondered about. The movie Memento relies heavily on its unusual sequencing, and the TV show 'Lost' shows what masterful use of flashbacks and flash forwards can do for a story. Flashbacks are cliched, I'm sure we all know that, but they are extremely compelling. There's something about finding out what happened before your main event that just draws you in. I remember reading 'The Hobbit' after reading Lord of the Rings, seeing Dragonball after completing Dragonball Z, or seeing Terminator after watching T2, and the feeling I got from it...is so much better than I get from experiencing stories in chronological order.

For me, perfectly following the flow of time is a bit of a chore. I can only focus on how much more I have to read or watch until I get to that final chapter, and how much I'm going to have to remember along the way. But well-placed flashbacks are like discovering the answers to unsolved mysteries along the way. A wonderful distraction from the agonizingly slow flow of time. I'd even argue that they are closer to our life experiences than a perfect, step-by-step journey into the future. We live a little, gain a lot of questions about our parents, our surroundings and ourselves, and then, suddenly, when we reach the right age, people or events start filling in the blanks for us. Where we came from, why our parents are or aren't married, or why we have very strong emotional reactions to certain things. I honestly think that's why prequels are so appealing.

Other countries know this, too. For example, Japanese storytelling revolves around this. Nearly every movie or anime ends with some dramatic flashback explaining why a character is the way he or she is (this usually happens right before it's time for them to die). If you watch too many Japanese films, or read too many manga, this can get old very fast. But this really is how they tell their stories. They won't even foreshadow, though! You can bring in ANY new information you want in a flashback in Japanese storytelling. (I consider that cheating, though.) Because of this cultural difference, many Japanese people are confused by the typical American movie opening: the introductory backstory. Basically, we reveal everything they care about in the first fifteen minutes of a lot of our movies. Imagine Christopher Reeve's Superman with no intro, but instead, put that long Krypton sequence right after he discovers Lois Lane dead, and flies into the sky, screaming like a madman. THAT's how they want to see it. ...Actually, that might be pretty cool. Any editors with some decent equipment out there?

I am wired to appreciate the connections of the past and the future more than most people, however. Some people really just want a perfect sequence. Jumping around hurts their brains. But for the most part, I think the cliche of an extended flashback might just be one of the best storytelling devices ever conceived.

Thoughts, anyone?

MythSmyth

Ready...Aim...

I'm one of those people who whole-heatedly believes that the stories we hear and see as kids are what mold our ambition, and even our image of ourselves. Stories have a lot of power. So whenever I see a potentially dangerous story or trend popping up in the mainstream or even the pervasive underground, I get worried. I'm a little worried right now. I checked out the trailers on apple.com recently, and I saw that we've got two upcoming movies with angsty bow-and-arrow wielding girls as protagonists. The first is Brave, a PIxar film. I have all the faith in the world in Pixar. They are such wonderful storytellers. Sure, they make a misstep every once in a while, but...doesn't everyone? The other is based on a recent novel, The Hunger Games. And I read that book.  Wasn't so impressed. Just felt nervous and a little nauseated at the end of the third book.

So, why am I worried?  See...these movies have strong female characters, which I think is great, because little girls really need that.  But...if I remember anything about Katniss, and most "strong female leads" that I've seen lately...it's that they don't grow.  They don't learn.  The arcs they seem to experience are as follows: Start off awesome and angry, show girl power, embarrass men and women with old school values, make every male character fall in love with you, go home awesome and angry.

To me this shows girls that they will never have to concede, never change, never grow.  They'll experience a lot of sadness, but at least they are always right.  And that's what matters, right? Now, to any women pointing out that most male-driven stories work the same way (See older James Bond or House MD), I want you to know that I agree 100%.  But men are already screwed up enough to think that they are born strong and tough, hyper-sexual, and 100% right all the time.  Why on earth would anyone want to send girls down that same path of destruction?  And if it's "to compete with men", you're already ten steps down the wrong path.

Female characters should go through changes.  They should try, fail, change.  ALL characters should do that.  It's not about strength or competition...it's about finding out who you are and how that relates to the rest of the world.   But, Pixar might not let me down.  I recall a line something like, "You want your freedom, but are do you know what it'll cost you?" Shows me they're working on something good. I'll be sure to check it out.

MythSmyth