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Saturday, September 29, 2012

When Ignorance Is Bliss

WordMaster

             Dear readers,

             As you’ve probably noticed (or maybe not since I doubt there are more than maybe five of you), there has been a gaping lack of new content on here lately. Blame reality. Well, that and my general laziness and the fact that the Washington Nationals are currently giving D.C. its first dose of postseason baseball in nearly a century.

 All you non-baseball fans are really missing out on something special.

              Anyway, to be completely honest, I haven’t had much to talk about lately other than baseball, and I’m sure you guys don’t want to hear me gush about that anymore. Last Saturday, I went to see The Master, Paul Thomas Anderson’s follow-up to the feverishly praised (albeit, in my opinion, overrated) There Will Be Blood. It was my first trip to the movie theater since I saw The Dark Knight Rises in IMAX over two months ago. You might say, “WordMaster, there are so many things to discuss. Why don’t you talk about something that actually matters for once?” Well, true; I could talk about politics, society, real life or any of those things that most normal people find fascinating. But, as you guys know, I’m not normal. I’m that weird person whose existence revolves almost entirely around an endless string of pop culture obsessions. So when I realized that (1) I hadn’t seen a movie in theaters in two months and (2) I didn’t really care, I felt like I was having a legitimate identity crisis. If I wasn’t devouring movies and TV shows with an enthusiasm that bordered on mania, what was I even doing? What was the point of my life?



              But then, I saw the trailer for the now-released movie The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

              I haven’t gotten around to reading the book yet (the damn thing has like 1000 holds on it at the public library), and I don’t know much about it, except that the main character is your typical – or maybe not-so-typical – angst-ridden teenage boy and that it’s supposed to be really good. I’ve grown skeptical of film adaptations of beloved novels, so this wasn’t quite at the top of my must-see list (that was probably a toss-up between Argo and Zero Dark Thirty). Yet when I finally got around to watching the trailer the week before the movie’s limited-release debut, I was blown away. For those of you who pay even less attention than I do and haven’t seen the trailer yet, here it is:


              It was the second half that got to me, the part accompanied by Imagine Dragon’s infectious pop hit “It’s Time”. I’m not sure exactly what it is about this trailer that I love so much. Maybe it’s because I had next to no idea what to expect; maybe it’s because I’m a sucker for montages played over a perfect song choice (see: Crazy, Stupid, Love, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and Where the Wild Things Are) or because I’m happy to see Emma Watson finding good projects post-Harry Potter. Or maybe it’s because it’s rare to see a movie about high school that seems so refreshingly free of irony and cynicism, so bursting at the seams with joy. I’ve spend a long time searching for a cinematic depiction of high school that feels truly real, rather than a compilation of hackneyed stereotypes and self-conscious quirks (*ahem* Easy A *ahem*). Some, like Clueless and Mean Girls, have their share of sharp observations and resonant truths (they may not be my experience of high school, but they feel like someone’s experience of high school), though at the end of the day, they’re still grounded in satire, not realism. Other than Judd Apatow’s funny, poignant and tragically short-lived TV show Freaks and Geeks, I’ve never been able to relate much to the media’s portrayal of high school and adolescence.


              Still, I don’t think that’s quite it, because later that day, I had an epiphany – or as close to an epiphany I’ll probably ever get. I’m the kind of movie buff who makes Oscar predictions and keeps track of reviews coming out of the Sundance and Toronto film festivals, who gets depressed or enraged when critics disagree with me about a certain movie, as though that somehow invalidates my opinion. But these past couple months, as I mentioned, I’ve more or less avoided any news about movies, current or upcoming, so when I watched the trailer for The Perks of Being a Wallflower, I felt a rush of something I haven’t felt in a long time: ignorance. Complete, blissful, glorious ignorance.

              I’m beginning to think that my temporary withdrawal from the entertainment world wasn’t just a case of “not having enough time”; it was, at least in part, a deliberate decision to take a break from the passion that had consumed my life for the better part of my teenage years. Once upon a time, I actually enjoyed following the awards season and discussing movies with people on the Internet, rejoicing when they agreed with me and arguing if they didn’t. Lately, though, it’s been more a source of ire and bitterness than of pleasure. I can list many things that led to my gradual disillusionment with the entertainment industry. First, when you’re writing a blog about pop culture, you’re basically required to read the opinion of every moron who thinks he’s the next Pauline Kael or pretends that there’s an actual distinction between “art” and “entertainment” (I respect you as a director, Cronenberg, but this is the epitome of pretentiousness). And then there are awards like the Oscars, Golden Globes and, most of all, the Emmys whose value seems to plummet precipitously every passing year despite not being all that high to begin with. And Hollywood’s continued refusal to budge from its conservative attitude toward anyone who doesn’t fall into the demographic of “middle-aged straight white male”. And the fact that modern movies seem to fall into four basic categories: action-driven tent poles, contrived rom-coms, “prestige” relationship dramas with Oscar-winning actors and micro-budget indie flicks that either think they’re being subversive and original or display a disturbing penchant for fetishizing poverty. And the fact that studios respond to literally every modest success (and some flops) by declaring that it merits a sequel/spin-off/prequel.

I liked the first one as much as the next person, but seriously, Hollywood. Please fucking stop.

More than anything else, movie-watching has grown so predictable. Months before a film even gets released, I can guess the public’s reaction to it with almost pinpoint accuracy. Take The Dark Knight Rises, for instance. The audience was going to be divided into precisely three camps: those who adored it without reservation (aka “fanboys”), those who thought it was okay but nowhere near as good as The Dark Knight and those who dismissed it as unrelentingly bleak and self-serious camp. You could also take virtually any lighthearted, emotionally-intense movie (say, The Artist or anything directed by Steven Spielberg), and at least half the people you ask will call it “maudlin bullshit”. Add this to the spoiler-centric culture of the Internet, the media’s need to release not only trailers, posters, promotional stills, in-depth cast interviews and pictures from the set but also trailers for trailers and every single mundane tidbit of information they can get their hands on, and it becomes extremely hard for any movie, no matter how good, to take you by surprise.

Swooning over the trailer for The Perks of Being a Wallflower, I realized what a beautiful thing ignorance can be. At last, I can say this with complete sincerity: I don’t care what critics or anyone else thinks. I don’t care if a movie is awards-worthy or thematically complex or falls into whatever predetermined category it’s supposed to fall into. I just want to be swept up on the wings of a story, to soar through the air with no clue about where I’m going, to be immersed in a universe more thrilling and awe-inspiring than our own, to be transformed, inspired. You know those movies that remind you why you fell in love with movies in the first place? Off the top of my head, I have maybe six of them: The Lord of the Rings, Singin’ in the Rain, Casablanca, Inception, Super 8 and Up in the Air. They’re not all my absolute favorite films, but when I first saw them, reality seemed to melt away until nothing remained besides me and the flickering images on the screen. For me, that’s the best feeling in the world: it’s the feeling of stepping inside a dream.

One last random thing – The Perks of a Wallflower trailer has already given me a contender for my favorite lines of the year: “I know there are people who say these things don’t happen. I know these will all be stories someday. But right now, we are alive. And in this moment, I swear we are infinite.” 

             If that doesn’t make you smile like a kid riding his new bike for the first time, you don’t have a soul.

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