Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Philosophy, Emotion, and Just Damn Good Art

I've been devoting a lot of time to Art and films these days. I've accepted the fact this is all I really care about most of the time, being a single man of thirty-six, and searching for beauty in both light and dark places. I feel lucky in that I've gone through some interesting things in my life, to say the least, and can express these things through writing, knowing it not only helps, but works on a therapeutic level. It doesn't matter if anyone ever sees it. I do it because I love it. I feel a lot, too, which (I don't often know if I'm lucky or unlucky because of it) means I can express a lot. I heard the other day in the bookstore, someone mention, "Every writer is a philosopher these days," and I'm afraid I'm part of the same ilk, for better or worse. Tales of exposition, inner detail, and turmoil, with some sort of resolution (In my case, usually sad. Sue me, I love a good tragedy.) It's just me. I like books that are the same, and I like writing the same sort of fiction. Tales with meat and potatoes, as I call them. These days, my focus has remained in the dark, the creepier side of humanity, the fragility of the human mind, people who are generally good, but battle inner demons who won't go away: alcoholism, child abuse, obsession, or madness. These demons usually manifest themselves in some form or another, take shape, and eventually destroy. Though, I don't mind a happy ending, as long as it's believable, I'm not sure its always for me--at least all the time. Silly Girl has a happy ending, despite the horror I put Amanda Dear through. Realism through the pain of characters and the interminable suffering. Kind of like, "Why not take that suffering and manipulate it, make it grow, then add a bleak winter setting on top of all that, just for effect." The catharsis through writing, the therapy of taking your own inner demons and exaggerating the hell out of them. From the dark core of the soul, comes truth, and from truth comes great art.

But there I go again. I'm not trying to say anything you haven't already heard before. It's one of the first lessons we learn, but I still believe there's some truth in that. Hemingway said experience makes the writer, and I have to agree. I don't think philosophy in art or writing is so bad, at least not the way the customer said it at the bookstore. John D. MacDonald did it beautifully with his Travis McGee series. Usually, when I face a hardship through life, I ask myself, "What would Travis do?" And I haven't been disappointed with the results. Of course, I will never be Travis, because he's the size of a linebacker, spends all his time on his Florida houseboat, wooing the ladies with his charm, sense of humor, and respect. Philosophy never bothered me in writing, because I always felt you were getting something extra besides a story. If a story can teach and edify along the way, then it's done a bit more than entertain. I call that a successful, memorable, even immortal story.

Along the way, I've run into some good stories and movies. I have some catching up to do, so with Netflix, I feel I can delve in beautifully and experience some things I never had before. Let The Right One In, for example, by John Ajvide Lindqvist. I'm reading the book right now and the love story is amazing. I got it because I saw the movie about a week ago, and I fell in love with that, too. I just needed more of it. I've read some of the mixed reviews, but I ignore the negative ones. From what I can say about the film--not enough good things. Stylish, artsy, beautiful, dark, and smartly done. A true original. Rent it or read the book. I don't think you'd be disappointed. With all the vampire craziness these days, I try to steer from vampire tales, but this is the exception to the rule. I think I must be a getting a little opinionated the older I get. Hollywood films seem the same old thing, a formula we know too well. Granted there are exceptions, The Dark Knight, Iron Man, things that are truly entertaining. Don't get me wrong. I think it's fabulous these kinds of movies are coming out. I saw Quarantine as well, finally, and absolutely loved it. Traditional horror, like Cloverfield, original, even simple, but packing a wallop. The truly good films have soul, a personality of their own, whereas some of the major blockbusters or films coming out of Hollywood seem rushed. It's as though you can feel the rush. Popular book! Quick! Let's make a popular movie out of it!--the hurried script, the quick casting, the sense or lack of dimension, the lack of soul from the book. Hollywood has been pumping out movies at an un-recordable rate for years. For, of course, money. Well, that makes sense. I wouldn't turn down a quick 10 mil, either. But through it all, I find it insanely disappointing. Characters are being butchered, story lines as well. Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula, for example, not Bram Stoker's. (I know, years ago, but honestly.) If it had really been Bram Stoker's Dracula, Dracula and Mina would've had separate agendas. One movie I thought Anthony Hopkins shouldn't have been cast in, because the comic relief, was, well...not Dracula. Donald Pleasance was a much better Van Helsing. And Keanu Reeves as Jonathan Harker? Surely, you jest! Winona Ryder as Mina? Still shaking my head? On top of that, a stellar performance by Gary Oldman, which virtually clashed with Keanu and Winona. Gary Oldman, was, however, one of the better Dracula's to come along in years, I thought. And for those who haven't read the book, let me remind you, Dracula was never in love with Mina, let alone was there an immortal love story between the two. Not a single Dracula creation, it seems, is technically accurate to the book as far as the love story goes, because the only love story was between Mina and Jonathan, and of course, Lucy and her suitors. Dracula was simply a creature of the night who wanted to take over the world, not reunite with a lost love. A disappointing remake, to say the least, which for me, has grown staler over time. The Silver Surfer deserved better in the second installment of The Fantastic Four as well. Talk about your tragic stories! His was at the top of my list growing up, thanks to my older brother, who introduced me to Surfer as a kid. But hey, this is just one man's opinion. Dracula and the Surfer are opposite ends of the spectrum, but the same rules apply.

I'm relieved there are people out there proving the immortal band on film and literature. There are still directors who care, who want to share vision instead of making a quick buck, writers who believe in the power of language, in real storytelling instead of the current, hottest seller, actors who sacrifice their souls for their performance and put everything they have into it. Let The Right One In made me realize this. So did Magic. Yes, I know, the one starring Anthony Hopkins, Anne Margaret, and Burgess Merideth, 1978. I saw bits and pieces of the movie as a kid, but never knew exactly what it was about, let alone had I seen it all the way through. Finally twenty-some odd years later, I sat and watched it, blown away by Hopkins' performance, especially when he's arguing with Fatz, and Burgess Merideth is standing in the doorway without him knowing. I haven't been able to say this is in a long time, probably since Cronenberg's The Dead Zone, based on the King novel, but these two films (Let The Right One In, and Magic) might be at the top of my favorite movies list. If you want films with beautiful pace, with lives of their own, with personality, these are great examples. Of course, I'm no pundit on movies, whatsoever. I go by how they make me feel, what it did to me on the inside, and if this were a review, I'd probably be castrated. I'm just saying, I'm passionate about what I expose myself to, and I loved to be emotionally moved, mentally stimulated for both light and dark reasons. Don't you?