Who loves being complained to by a movie character for an hour and a half? Apparently me. Woody Allen's Whatever Works (2009) is far from what is considered to be a part of his classics, while still somehow being the most enjoyable for me of the four films of his I've seen. Please wait until after you read this blog post to shoot me.
There is something ironically enlightening about experiencing the cynical world views of Boris (Larry David), and this is partly due to David's delivery of his monologues. I was not previously familiar with his acting, but I was amused on many occasions by his shameless undertones and physical expression to go with it. One of my favorite rants involved Boris' views on sending kids away to summer camp, concluding that they should be sent to a concentration camp for two weeks "so they would finally understand what the human race is capable of."
Boris is hopelessly determined on the hopelessness of the human race. He's loud, pathetic, and offensive-- yet charming. I feel like every extremist human being should have someone like Boris in their life. Who knows what the outcome will be? Even a couple of wacky religious nuts can make a complete *spoiler alert* 180 turn to being an openly gay man, and a woman living in a "menajahtwa."
Whatever works, right? Even if many of Boris' views and inspirations go against your own personal morals (with me many certainly do), you still can't help but love the comical truth in much of it.
It's fun to look back in time on the movies of our lives. It's almost a year ago that I began the following draft (in which I never published--until now), related to my recently completed short film First Snow (then called Last Snow).
Reading what was written back then about this script I first began work on in November of 2011, it's funny how Mary does end up facing more than I said she would. Accept the January 2012 blog post and the final film as two separate entities. First Snow was in a very early stage at that time, and Mary does indeed end up facing a bit more than trying to get past a guy and girl sucking face.
Also thinking back on the death of skier Sarah Burke (and about risk-taking in general), I realize what a big theme this is for me personally.
Sometimes the risks we take involve defeating the fear of revealing something personal to a world of people who would be in opposition to it. In one form or another we may face danger, and put our lives (or life as we know it) on the line. Sometimes we do it for our own lifestyle, or a dream, or for someone we love.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
While spending hours to myself in a coat room of my school's performing arts center, some time was spent thinking about this blog post.
Even before that, while watching the makings of the first snow of the year, I thought about the script to the short film I began writing last fall. It's called Last Snow and is about a girl who waits until the last moment possible to take a big personal risk. The risk involves protagonist Mary telling her friend Neve that she likes him regardless of what the outcome will be.
Most people with at least a small daredevil in their spirit would say this is a good decision so long as it's harmless. Well, at least no physical danger is involved; but what about emotional baggage? Could this type of thing lead to some kind of verbal ridicule that would make the accomplishment hardly worth it? Without giving too much away, Mary is not up against this type of battle at all, at least not with anyone else but herself; but what if she was? Would that be less or more risky than physical danger?
It kind of brings me back to my last post, about tragedy in movies vs. the news. Yesterday my dad insisted on driving me to work because he was worried about me driving on my own in the sort-of icy roads from the 2-inch snowfall yesterday morning. If I had gone and drove on my own anyway and gotten into an accident that caused me physical harm, would the idea alone that I chose to drive to work be my fault? I would have been doing something I had to do, with an ordinary intention after all.
The day before yesterday, something I heard from the TV news took me aback. They were talking about Canadian skier Sarah Burke and the recent accident that lead to her untimely death. In that little portion of the news that leads you into the commercial and lets you know what's coming up next, the newscaster questioned if Sarah had been "too brave" and "too bold." It disturbed me in a way to think that some might think it's possible to be to be "too" brave especially. Maybe it's too much to those who know the person, when it leads to a tragic loss such as this. Still, she was doing what she loved and wanted to do after all and who's to question what is going too far? Is it her fault? Is it anyone's fault?
Being missing in action is no fun. It's even worse when returning proves to be nothing special. The latter is for you to decide, but I can say I've had an excitingly laborious semester. I loved every second of it.
The untold story of my own personally cinematic semester has yet to be shared, however; a product of some of its dedication can be seen in my short film First Snow, also the winner of my college's fall film festival.
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