I am disturbed by the mechanics of the supernatural in this film. Are there consistent principles governing the horror, or do they shift according to a particular moment's fear factor? The principles don't have to align with ours, but they have to be consistent: I require a mechanics.
I am also disturbed by the film's ignorance to its own love triangle which goes woefully underresolved. It feels like an oversight.
But this film was entertaining, revealing the concerning ease with which this end can be achieved, at least for me.
I like it!
Sunday, January 7, 2018
East of Eden (from 11/23/15)
I haven't read much, but the first two pages of East of Eden seem very basic -- standard American novel -- Steinbeck seeing easy symbolism in natural things -- setting up metaphors for a geographic location to be used throughout the book on the first page -- the prose ......... Very standard.
Yet I am into it. Even if it is nothing special (it feels like Twain..... is it?), I feel as if I want badly to be a part of the naturalism, the agrarian lifestyle and community, the valley with mountain ranges on either side, the sea just over the western ridge, a river, farmland, a sun, green...... I feel as if I want badly to be a part of it -- the natural lifestyle, the dependence on nature, the attunedness to nature, the simple life....
Could I, perchance, come farm with the Steinbecks in a lush green valley with a river with a personality and two characters for mountain ranges for topographic bookends and the sea just a hop, skip and jump to the west? And work for a good portion of every day and read books for the rest of every day? But not philosophy, and nothing foreign.... just good, classic American fiction? And maybe play the guitar on a porch?
Could I know the people in my community by name, and by their unique characters? Could I have this thing I do with the neighborhood boys that is kind of illegal but without which I and my town wouldn't have an identity?
Maybe I should just read East of Eden.
But can I live in East of Eden? Can I please escape the self-consciousness of Camus and instead live in the simple American town? French intellectual culture is burdening my soul.... I need to go play recreationally in the town river, and maybe one of my friends drowns, but that makes us who we are today.
Yet I am into it. Even if it is nothing special (it feels like Twain..... is it?), I feel as if I want badly to be a part of the naturalism, the agrarian lifestyle and community, the valley with mountain ranges on either side, the sea just over the western ridge, a river, farmland, a sun, green...... I feel as if I want badly to be a part of it -- the natural lifestyle, the dependence on nature, the attunedness to nature, the simple life....
Could I, perchance, come farm with the Steinbecks in a lush green valley with a river with a personality and two characters for mountain ranges for topographic bookends and the sea just a hop, skip and jump to the west? And work for a good portion of every day and read books for the rest of every day? But not philosophy, and nothing foreign.... just good, classic American fiction? And maybe play the guitar on a porch?
Could I know the people in my community by name, and by their unique characters? Could I have this thing I do with the neighborhood boys that is kind of illegal but without which I and my town wouldn't have an identity?
Maybe I should just read East of Eden.
But can I live in East of Eden? Can I please escape the self-consciousness of Camus and instead live in the simple American town? French intellectual culture is burdening my soul.... I need to go play recreationally in the town river, and maybe one of my friends drowns, but that makes us who we are today.
Synecdoche, New York
Synecdoche, New York is such a sad movie. The last time I saw this I had experienced so little of the life I was to experience -- I lacked empathy for a variety of critical human experiences. I lived in my own mind and life had hardly happened to me, I had hardly ever felt the control of external circumstances.
It is also a humorous movie, which I also didn't understand the last time I saw it.
The movie appealed to me instantly, in my youth, because it confronted human issues that I found to be most beautiful. It spoke bluntly about topics I longed to talk about but for which I could never find an outlet. I was troubled by issues of meaning at the time -- as troubled as a by-nature perfectly healthy and stable adolescent could be. I felt everything in my environment was coated in convention, and concealed. I longed for interesting things to happen, to have to face reality. Synecdoche is honest, serious, and unconventional. I have always taken life seriously, and was essentially bored or sickened by the stability of my upbringing. Synecdoche was fascinating, and it felt real.
Watching it isn't as beautiful to me as it was for the first handful of viewings, probably because I've dealt with some of these issues now, because I no longer need to deal with some of them, and because I've seen it so many times it can't possibly strike me as profoundly. Yet I still believe this movie, and I still find it entirely admirable and impressive, and it amazes me in new ways. Synecdoche feels as real as it always did. It's not as timely for me now, but however much I've changed I still feel a fundamental connection with the movie. It speaks my language, even all these years later. There's a part of me that still thinks in this way, and still needs to be ripped out of my suppressive stable environment. But now I know its lesson all-too-well -- I think about it all the time, how to achieve the confrontation this movie achieves, but in real life. Complacency is a trap which is all around. I hope I am doing well by my always-favorite-movie, and not failing within my means to achieve that which it inspired in me.
It is also a humorous movie, which I also didn't understand the last time I saw it.
The movie appealed to me instantly, in my youth, because it confronted human issues that I found to be most beautiful. It spoke bluntly about topics I longed to talk about but for which I could never find an outlet. I was troubled by issues of meaning at the time -- as troubled as a by-nature perfectly healthy and stable adolescent could be. I felt everything in my environment was coated in convention, and concealed. I longed for interesting things to happen, to have to face reality. Synecdoche is honest, serious, and unconventional. I have always taken life seriously, and was essentially bored or sickened by the stability of my upbringing. Synecdoche was fascinating, and it felt real.
Watching it isn't as beautiful to me as it was for the first handful of viewings, probably because I've dealt with some of these issues now, because I no longer need to deal with some of them, and because I've seen it so many times it can't possibly strike me as profoundly. Yet I still believe this movie, and I still find it entirely admirable and impressive, and it amazes me in new ways. Synecdoche feels as real as it always did. It's not as timely for me now, but however much I've changed I still feel a fundamental connection with the movie. It speaks my language, even all these years later. There's a part of me that still thinks in this way, and still needs to be ripped out of my suppressive stable environment. But now I know its lesson all-too-well -- I think about it all the time, how to achieve the confrontation this movie achieves, but in real life. Complacency is a trap which is all around. I hope I am doing well by my always-favorite-movie, and not failing within my means to achieve that which it inspired in me.
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