Dickens

Today is Charles Dickens' 200th Birthday, as anyone who pays close attention to Google's homepage doodles will have realized by now.

I mentioned this to a friend of mine, including the important detail that the man is my favorite author. She's a novelist, and she said, "It's funny, everybody respects him, but not very many people say he's their favorite author." I said I guess that's true. It's because people don't read him.

"Yeah, what what is Mark Twain said about classics...that they're books 'that people praise but don't read.'" That about sums it up. I contended that if more people read Dickens, he'd find his way into more Favorite Author slots.

An aside: I know there are people who legitimately don't like the man's style. To them, I extend my pity, and a pass. If you've read him (and I mean more than one book in high school), I suppose you're allowed to dislike his writing. The sentiment baffles me, and always will, but it's allowed. Just like all bad opinions.

Last semester, one of my professors distributed a collection of basic screenwriting "rules" by James Dalessandro. There were ten of them. Here is number 10:

READ.
I saved the best for last. I know a screenwriter in Los Angeles who has written one successful movie and has yet to find a second commercial idea. He confided in me once that he has not read a book in fifteen years, since he graduated from college. I was speechless. Listen, and listen well. The keys to knowledge are called "books." The province of dreams, the wellspring of wisdom, the storehouse of human drama is books. All things marvelous and terrifying are in black and white on bound pages. From "Les Miserable" to "To Kill A Mockingbird" to "Forrest Gump," the great characters began on the printed page, not the silver screen. To write films, you must love films and read screenplays. But if you do not read books, if you missed Dante and Satre, Chekhov and Faulkner, Steinbeck and Kesey, you are missing cards from your deck. You can not play poker with a short hand.

Why don't people read? Have you asked them? I have. The answer is always the same: "I want to read, but I can never find the time."

OK. Do you eat? How do you find the time, I wonder? Well, you find it because you need to eat. If it wasn't essential, plenty of us wouldn't do it nearly as often as we do.

You won't read until you need to read. The sad truth is that few people are convinced it is actually a need. To the vast majority, reading is a luxury. It is one of the first things to get nixed from the list of to-do's when time gets short, and life gets crunched. If we don't make time to read, then deep down we don't think it's essential, and we are wrong.

It's a spiritual thing. You don't notice what you're missing when you fail to read great literature. But when you really start to dig in, you wonder how you ever survived without it. The fact is, we don't. There is, everywhere, evidence that our culture is perishing in what Mother Teresa called "a famine of the spirit."

It is an inadvertently self-imposed famine, though, for we are surrounded by that which could so easily satisfy, and deeply.

For instance, I have the complete works of Charles Dickens on my iPhone. It was $2.99.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Dickens.

Where have all the film critics gone?

You may not know this, but it is nearly impossible these days to make a living as a film critic. We can thank crowd-sourcing for this. Go jump on Netflix and take a look at the user reviews. Some of them are reasonably well-informed, but even the highest rated reviews betray a kind of stubborn ignorance, in that they almost never break free of the "I liked it"/"I hated it" foundation of commentary. What is usually missing from lay-criticism is careful evaluation of the actual quality of a film, which should account for what the thing was trying to do, and whether it was successful. The personal response of the viewer/reviewer is a factor, but it is not the end-all.

The current landscape for movie reviews is a bit dismal. Film critics almost always get lumped together, as though they are in some kind of club that meets weekly and decides whether they liked a movie or not. I can't tell you how many times I've heard, "I don't usually agree with what the critics say." What does that even mean? Are you aware that "critics" differ vastly from one another, and that their opinions represent a wide spectrum of valuable analytical thought? You can't disagree with all of them. It's not possible.

It is possible, however, to take note of some kind of critical consensus, if and when it happens. If a whole lot of critics seem really enthused about a particular film, it's probably worth some consideration. If you find yourself in love with a film that most critics seem to hate, it might be time to acknowledge that you have  something of a guilty pleasure. Loving a film doesn't make it good, and hating it doesn't make it bad.

I digress. The point is that film criticism is a dying profession. It's now the hobbyist's world, and the hobbyist doesn't have to be any good, just passionate, and Internet-savvy. But it stands to reason that as the professional critics go, so goes the professional criticism.

Thankfully, we've still got Rotten Tomatoes and MetaCritic. Sure, they house a good number of idiots masquerading as film buffs, but those review aggregators are the last bastion of hope for professional film critics. To get included in the "tomatometer" requires significant accreditation, and so Rotten Tomatoes' scores maintain a certain value.

Unfortunately, that value doesn't seem to affect the box office over-dramatically. Here is a telling snapshot:

Striking, is it not?

Anyway, I was motivated to write this ranting, disorganized post because, despite the thanklessness of it, I can't seem to stop writing movie reviews. And while I try my best to make them meaningful, whether I succeed in that effort is not really my call.

Here's my latest. And it provides a great illustration of that thing I mentioned. I had major problems with Hugo, but it's got a 94% on Rotten Tomatoes. Does that mean that I think all critics are wrong and stupid? Of course not.

Anyway. I'm done.

Bad Writer, Bad Writing

I had two choices:

1. Continue to avoid writing a new post because I technically don't have a new scene to share this week.
2. Admit my failure and post anyway, favoring consistency over humiliation (and cowardice).

I am now hiding behind door #2. 

It's not that I haven't been writing at all, but what little time I have spent writing I've sunk into the short, for which I'm supposed to be turning in the first draft this coming week.

Wow, what a sentence. I can actually feel myself getting worse at putting words together. It's becoming a neurosis. You are witnessing a slow, excruciating collapse of a once-creative mind. What's it like, from your perpective? This is what it's like for me: sinking into a pit of loose, soft sand. I'm panicking, of course, but what can I do? It seems like the more I struggle, the deeper I sink, and plus there's all this sand, which, even if I get out, is going to be all up in everywhere ok I think this analogy is breaking down.

And now here's some venting:

I frequently (and unfairly) blame my failure to stake out more time to write on my job as a TA. Specifically, of late, grading papers. Like I said, it's unfair, because if I was more dedicated, I'd get my &#!+ together and quit whining. I'd have plenty of time if I'd stop wasting so much of it.

But that's not what I want to vent about. I want to say that the level to which we, as a nation, have allowed our standard, public education to sink is unforgivable. I don't blame the freshmen coming into a prestigious college for their utter inability to write coherently (I'm one to talk)--I blame the system that so recently regurgitated their ill-served brains. The sad fact is this: public high schools are failing utterly to teach the vast majority of their students to write at even the modest levels of competency. 

This is the pen I use to grade. I know, right?

Is writing really that important? 

Have you ever heard Lewis Black scream the word "YES" in an explosively incredulous rage? Well, that's my answer. 

Not only is an inability to write clearly and effectively an indication of a poor education, and a terrible handicap in the professional world, it is also, alas, directly related to stunted critical thinking. Writing is thinking, and vice versa. The two are inseparable. Learning to write well facilitates much better thinking. Without the one, the other stagnates. 

And so most of us are coming out of high school barely functional. It's not an age thing, it's a systemic failure thing. If our eighteen-year-olds are well-meaning idiots, it's not because they haven't seen two decades, it's because they have seen one decade of "no child left behind." 

I'm going to stop now, or I never will. 

This blog is supposed to be a place to talk about being a film student/maker/person. So I've typed out my passionate plea for better writing with fear and fury, and now I want to ask you, am I overstating it? Am I alone in my anguish? Are there other perspectives outside of mine? I tend to assume there aren't, which, I recognize, is a problem. Help me fix it.

Everyone Should be a Film Student

I've been a TA for BYU's introductory film class for three years now. I became convinced some time ago that this class (TMA 102) should be a general education requirement for all students. With each passing semester, I feel more passionately that this is true.

Here's my reasoning:

An "Introduction to Literature" class is a GE requirement in most schools, and for good reason--books are and have been a fundamental method by which society communicates with itself. The class's purpose is to attempt to open the door for its students to the world of literature, so that they can then become informed participates in the ongoing conversation of that medium. In short, books are really important, so any education worth anything must attempt to help students achieve a certain level of literacy.

Books used to be THE primary medium of cultural dialog. Popular books would enter into the public's awareness, and achieve a broad audience. Now, however, a "bestseller" will get ready by, comparatively, a tiny fraction of its society's population. It is very, very seldom that a book sells more than a million copies these days.

I'm not going to say that movies are more important than books, but it would be easy to make a strong case that they have become more relevant. If you ask a crowd of a hundred random people how many of them had read the latest "bestseller," how many hands would go up? How about if you asked them to raise their hands if they'd seen Toy Story 3? Or Inception. Or the latest Transformers.

Everyone should be a student of film. Yes, I also believe everyone should study literature, but I think it is imperative that we study the dominant medium of our era. I don't think everyone should go to college and major in film, but I do think it has become incumbent upon us as members of this modern world to become literate in our primary mode of cultural communication.

It's about keeping our freedoms of thought, and our intelligence. In other, older civilizations, the literate controlled the uneducated. It is no different today. If we refuse to study the language of our media, and instead content ourselves with consuming upon our lusts, as it were, we will lose our intellectual and emotional freedom. Not that anyone will take it from us--we'll simply give it away.

Perhaps you have some thoughts on the subject? Am I taking this too far? Not far enough? What are some ways that you study film? Share them in the comments below.