by Jillian Butler, Ampersandology
Art is wounded, for the time being.
It's hard out there for anyone who loves, admires or creates art, especially in these lean times. Stuck in downswell of a recession is a bad time to be involved with the arts, for sure. It starts in the schools, because when a budget needs to be cut to the bare minimum, I suppose it's easier to look at Music, Art, Theatre and Film and dismiss them.
I've seen a lot of artistic people recently turn to more "suitable" career paths, which is very smart, but also a little sad. The reality is that most of us who have chosen to devote our lives to the arts usually have very little say in the matter; let me tell you, I did not choose any of my past or current vocations based on earning potential. But even so, there are always those moments that you need to reaffirm my faith in the power of art to reflect, restore and rethink.
Luckily, I have my staples.
Wonder Boys
(2002)
Directed by Curtis Hanson
Starring Michael Douglas, Tobey Maguire, Robert Downey Jr & Katie Holmes
The Story: A writer sits on the eternally unfinished follow-up to the smashing success of his first novel, as the various factors of his life fall to pieces around him.
I saw this at the perfect time: sitting on a short story that refused to be finished and was stubbornly, if metaphorically, gnawing on my ankle. When I saw Grady look at the 2500+ pages of his ever-unfinished manu-clump, I knew his pain.
Wonder Boys, beyond the coming of age stories of both its middle aged protagonist and college-enrolled sidekick, is perhaps the most entertaining depiction writer's block I've ever seen on screen. But more than that, it's the truest. His inertia with his work seeps into the rest of his life, affecting the way he sees his crumbling marriage, his promising student, and his word-hungry editor. He starts to realize his work isn't the only thing in need of a good edit.
What Wonder Boys teaches is that sometimes, letting go of a bad idea is just as valuable a lesson as getting an idea in the first place.
Billy Elliot
(2000 )
Directed by Stephen Daldry
Starring Jamie Bell, Gary Lewis, Jamie Draven & Julie Walters
The Story: A young boy from a rough, English coal mining town discovers an unlikely passion for ballet.
If you can watch Billy Elliot with a dry pair of eyes, then you've discovered something I haven't. What I admire most of the story is that it avoids every sinkhole its plot could have fallen into. It's briquely unsentimental and refuses to be nice to its children: the ballet teacher that pushes Billy to greatness is most times an insufferable harpy. But then, she gives Billy a little wink, a kindly nudge, and we know that, impossibly, it will all be okay.
This is also the way the film treats its audience: it earns every single moment of sentiment by refusing to diverge into a fantasy alter-world wherein Billy isn't a gruff coal miner's son working towards improbable dreams. It never shies away from the bleakness of Billy's world, or pander to the character reaction we expect: these are brilliantly realized people acting out the most realistic fairy tale I've ever seen.
But mostly, Billy Elliot is a refreshing spin on happily ever after: if you work harder and care more than everyone, give the naysayers the finger and try your best to stubbornly ignore any and all obstacles, you'll get to dance the lead in Matthew Bourne's innovative retelling of Swan Lake. And isn't that the dream?
The Red Shoes
(1948)
Directed by Emeric Pressburger & Michael Powell
Starring Anton Walbrook, Leonide Massine, Marius Goring, Moira Shearer
The Story: A young, talented ballerina is torn between her lover and her need to dance.
Love or art? That's the central question at the heart of this classic tragedy, lovingly profiled in The New Yorker. From the onset, it's clear that in this divine melodrama there is little room for compromise: Vicki Page, the heroine, is only elevated to prima ballerina after the last one foolishly eloped. This is not a world where things like commuting, part time hours or maternity leaves exist. It's all or absolutely nothing.
Vicki is clear in her drive to devote her life to art, equating being alive with being a dancer. So then, when she falls in love with a young composer and begins a secret affiar with him, she is going against the wishes of her domineering patron and against the drive of her ambition.
What follows is a dilemma so central to the lives of so many creative women: do you live your life or live for your art? Because as this film makes clear, you very rarely can have both in equal measure. Love becomes a harmful distraction for an artist as talented as Vicki, as she leaves the company with her lover and sacrifices her dreams. Soon she learns that she must make a choice, as she cannot continue on living half a life: either be without love, or be without dance.
The tragedy is reflected in the resplendent 20 minute ballet within the film, "The Red Shoes", a version of the Hans Christian Anderson fable. And such tragedy has never been so beautifully communicated as through Moira Shearer's body. It doesn't take much imagination to see how the main narrative is wrapped up in this one: the herione is seduced by the glorious red shoes , though (METAPHOR ALERT) they compel the wearer to dance themselves seemingly to death.
Bright Star
(2009)
Directed by Jane Campion
Starring Ben Winshaw, Abbie Cornish
The Story: The last years of poet John Keats, particularly his bittersweet romance with bonny Fanny Brawne.
Beyond exploring the Victorian tragedy that was Keats' brief life and death, Bright Star builds an uncanny portrait of an artist walking the line between life and divinity.
This isn't something explored often on film: the artistic side of these personalities are too persuasive, too romantic, and too loud, and the artist ends up a figure of secretive, unknowing genius.
But there are two sides that live secretly inside anyone who creates: there is the artist, posed with pen or brush or instrument in hand, always quivering towards the perfect phrasing, languid in the armchair and pondering the world from mundane surroundings; then, almost like quicksilver, comes the reality of actively avoiding poverty, fickle inspiration or just plain boredom.
Most artists walk some variation of this line; they, like anyone, have to eat, and brush their teeth, and balance the chequebook. But Bright Star manages to at least show a little peek behind the curtain, proving while it's hardly high drama, these realities are hardly as dull as the idea would imply. By portraying Keats as not a messiah of the written word, but a lovesick young frailty whose work was often more important to his fellow poet slash patron Charles Brown (Paul Schneider) than himself, it paints a touching picture of the eternal struggle of the artist to fit himself into the framework of the mundane, necessary everyday world.
Amadeus
(1984)
Directed by Milos Forman
Starring F. Murray Abraham & Tom Hulce
The Story: The life and death of Mozart, recounted by the mediocre composer who lived in the shadow of his genius.
Perhaps more key to the success of Amadeus is not the musical genius of its lynchpin, classical composer and wunderkind Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, but the story hiding behind it. From the start, F. Murray Abraham's Salieri is at once the most sympathetic of villains and the most vile of heroes. You sense his quiet, seething rage and hardly blame him for his imperceptible sabotage of Mozart's career in the Austiran artistic community.
Mediocrity doesn't get much screentime. at least not intentionally. But Salieri is its patron saint: a moderately talented, mostly well-connected court composer. When he encounters Mozart for the first time, you can sense his struggle with such gifts being given to a loutish, loudmouthed twerp. Historical inaccurancies aside, it's a potent theme that shakes Salieri to the core.
He's also cursed to be the only one around who truly recognizes the depth of Mozart's genuis, so any personal success is tinged with his knowledge that in a world where Mozart exists, these are false victories, the benefits of a myopic society. The moments when Mozart's ambitious, innovative talent falls flat are thus imbued with an tragically comic double indemnity: you sense Salieri's triumph at having bested his rival, but also his gaping mouth frustration that no one else would understand the divinity of Mozart's music.
F for Fake
(1974)
Directed by Orson Welles
The Story: A documentary examining the possibility of authenticity within art, using for its subjects professional art forger Elmyr de Hory and Clifford Irving, the notorious Howard Hughes "biographer."
I first became fascinated by the story of Elmyr de Hory during a captivating one-man show that took the forger as his subject. He had an incredible talent for mimicry, and successfully sold his own forgeries of great artists such as Picasso, Matisse and Renoir, passing them off as old relics he "happened across" in a foreign grandmother's attic. It is a story so fabulous your mind will resist it out of sheer practicality.
de Hory is only one of the fascinating quandaries at the heart of F for Fake. The film jumps like a strange, fevered thought pattern from subject to subject, always touching on the same basic themes: what decides the difference between real art and fake art? Does opinion make art, or can it proved with fact?
Stories, paintings, novels...isn't it all pretend, in the end -- a shell of real things?
This is, at its heart, Orson Welles' film, despite the breadth and variety of his topics -- he is the narrator and ringleader of the film, offering a trademark smirk alongside his commentary -- a commentary delivered on camera and directly to the audience, like a conversation. This is Welles is at his lushest audacity -- recounting briefly his own career, from his beginnings as an actor in Ireland (for the record, he was 19 years old and pretending to be a New York sensation) and his part in the infamous War of the Worlds broadcast.
Worth Mentioning:
The Turning Point (1977)
Two former ballet rivals (the sublime Anne Bancroft and Shirley MacLaine) clash over the future of a promising young dancer -- especially tense since one of them is the girl's mother. Also: MIKHAIL!!!!
Pollock (2000)
The story of the rocky life of notorious painter Jackson Pollock. Which came first, my love of Pollock or my lust for Ed Harris?
My Left Foot (1989)
An Irishman born with cerebral palsy can control only his left foot. Nonetheless, he grows up from his poor, working class roots to become a prolific writer and artist.
Dangerous Beauty (1998)
A Viennese courtesan turned poet writes of the role of women in society, while using her intelligence to set herself apart in the superficial world of selling desire.
Modest artwork property of Amersandology.
Art is wounded, for the time being.
It's hard out there for anyone who loves, admires or creates art, especially in these lean times. Stuck in downswell of a recession is a bad time to be involved with the arts, for sure. It starts in the schools, because when a budget needs to be cut to the bare minimum, I suppose it's easier to look at Music, Art, Theatre and Film and dismiss them.
I've seen a lot of artistic people recently turn to more "suitable" career paths, which is very smart, but also a little sad. The reality is that most of us who have chosen to devote our lives to the arts usually have very little say in the matter; let me tell you, I did not choose any of my past or current vocations based on earning potential. But even so, there are always those moments that you need to reaffirm my faith in the power of art to reflect, restore and rethink.
Luckily, I have my staples.
Wonder Boys
(2002)
Directed by Curtis Hanson
Starring Michael Douglas, Tobey Maguire, Robert Downey Jr & Katie Holmes
The Story: A writer sits on the eternally unfinished follow-up to the smashing success of his first novel, as the various factors of his life fall to pieces around him.
I saw this at the perfect time: sitting on a short story that refused to be finished and was stubbornly, if metaphorically, gnawing on my ankle. When I saw Grady look at the 2500+ pages of his ever-unfinished manu-clump, I knew his pain.
Wonder Boys, beyond the coming of age stories of both its middle aged protagonist and college-enrolled sidekick, is perhaps the most entertaining depiction writer's block I've ever seen on screen. But more than that, it's the truest. His inertia with his work seeps into the rest of his life, affecting the way he sees his crumbling marriage, his promising student, and his word-hungry editor. He starts to realize his work isn't the only thing in need of a good edit.
What Wonder Boys teaches is that sometimes, letting go of a bad idea is just as valuable a lesson as getting an idea in the first place.
Billy Elliot
(2000 )
Directed by Stephen Daldry
Starring Jamie Bell, Gary Lewis, Jamie Draven & Julie Walters
The Story: A young boy from a rough, English coal mining town discovers an unlikely passion for ballet.
If you can watch Billy Elliot with a dry pair of eyes, then you've discovered something I haven't. What I admire most of the story is that it avoids every sinkhole its plot could have fallen into. It's briquely unsentimental and refuses to be nice to its children: the ballet teacher that pushes Billy to greatness is most times an insufferable harpy. But then, she gives Billy a little wink, a kindly nudge, and we know that, impossibly, it will all be okay.
This is also the way the film treats its audience: it earns every single moment of sentiment by refusing to diverge into a fantasy alter-world wherein Billy isn't a gruff coal miner's son working towards improbable dreams. It never shies away from the bleakness of Billy's world, or pander to the character reaction we expect: these are brilliantly realized people acting out the most realistic fairy tale I've ever seen.
But mostly, Billy Elliot is a refreshing spin on happily ever after: if you work harder and care more than everyone, give the naysayers the finger and try your best to stubbornly ignore any and all obstacles, you'll get to dance the lead in Matthew Bourne's innovative retelling of Swan Lake. And isn't that the dream?
The Red Shoes
(1948)
Directed by Emeric Pressburger & Michael Powell
Starring Anton Walbrook, Leonide Massine, Marius Goring, Moira Shearer
The Story: A young, talented ballerina is torn between her lover and her need to dance.
Love or art? That's the central question at the heart of this classic tragedy, lovingly profiled in The New Yorker. From the onset, it's clear that in this divine melodrama there is little room for compromise: Vicki Page, the heroine, is only elevated to prima ballerina after the last one foolishly eloped. This is not a world where things like commuting, part time hours or maternity leaves exist. It's all or absolutely nothing.
Vicki is clear in her drive to devote her life to art, equating being alive with being a dancer. So then, when she falls in love with a young composer and begins a secret affiar with him, she is going against the wishes of her domineering patron and against the drive of her ambition.
What follows is a dilemma so central to the lives of so many creative women: do you live your life or live for your art? Because as this film makes clear, you very rarely can have both in equal measure. Love becomes a harmful distraction for an artist as talented as Vicki, as she leaves the company with her lover and sacrifices her dreams. Soon she learns that she must make a choice, as she cannot continue on living half a life: either be without love, or be without dance.
The tragedy is reflected in the resplendent 20 minute ballet within the film, "The Red Shoes", a version of the Hans Christian Anderson fable. And such tragedy has never been so beautifully communicated as through Moira Shearer's body. It doesn't take much imagination to see how the main narrative is wrapped up in this one: the herione is seduced by the glorious red shoes , though (METAPHOR ALERT) they compel the wearer to dance themselves seemingly to death.
(2009)
Directed by Jane Campion
Starring Ben Winshaw, Abbie Cornish
The Story: The last years of poet John Keats, particularly his bittersweet romance with bonny Fanny Brawne.
Beyond exploring the Victorian tragedy that was Keats' brief life and death, Bright Star builds an uncanny portrait of an artist walking the line between life and divinity.
This isn't something explored often on film: the artistic side of these personalities are too persuasive, too romantic, and too loud, and the artist ends up a figure of secretive, unknowing genius.
But there are two sides that live secretly inside anyone who creates: there is the artist, posed with pen or brush or instrument in hand, always quivering towards the perfect phrasing, languid in the armchair and pondering the world from mundane surroundings; then, almost like quicksilver, comes the reality of actively avoiding poverty, fickle inspiration or just plain boredom.
Most artists walk some variation of this line; they, like anyone, have to eat, and brush their teeth, and balance the chequebook. But Bright Star manages to at least show a little peek behind the curtain, proving while it's hardly high drama, these realities are hardly as dull as the idea would imply. By portraying Keats as not a messiah of the written word, but a lovesick young frailty whose work was often more important to his fellow poet slash patron Charles Brown (Paul Schneider) than himself, it paints a touching picture of the eternal struggle of the artist to fit himself into the framework of the mundane, necessary everyday world.
Amadeus
(1984)
Directed by Milos Forman
Starring F. Murray Abraham & Tom Hulce
The Story: The life and death of Mozart, recounted by the mediocre composer who lived in the shadow of his genius.
Perhaps more key to the success of Amadeus is not the musical genius of its lynchpin, classical composer and wunderkind Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, but the story hiding behind it. From the start, F. Murray Abraham's Salieri is at once the most sympathetic of villains and the most vile of heroes. You sense his quiet, seething rage and hardly blame him for his imperceptible sabotage of Mozart's career in the Austiran artistic community.
Mediocrity doesn't get much screentime. at least not intentionally. But Salieri is its patron saint: a moderately talented, mostly well-connected court composer. When he encounters Mozart for the first time, you can sense his struggle with such gifts being given to a loutish, loudmouthed twerp. Historical inaccurancies aside, it's a potent theme that shakes Salieri to the core.
He's also cursed to be the only one around who truly recognizes the depth of Mozart's genuis, so any personal success is tinged with his knowledge that in a world where Mozart exists, these are false victories, the benefits of a myopic society. The moments when Mozart's ambitious, innovative talent falls flat are thus imbued with an tragically comic double indemnity: you sense Salieri's triumph at having bested his rival, but also his gaping mouth frustration that no one else would understand the divinity of Mozart's music.
F for Fake
(1974)
Directed by Orson Welles
The Story: A documentary examining the possibility of authenticity within art, using for its subjects professional art forger Elmyr de Hory and Clifford Irving, the notorious Howard Hughes "biographer."
I first became fascinated by the story of Elmyr de Hory during a captivating one-man show that took the forger as his subject. He had an incredible talent for mimicry, and successfully sold his own forgeries of great artists such as Picasso, Matisse and Renoir, passing them off as old relics he "happened across" in a foreign grandmother's attic. It is a story so fabulous your mind will resist it out of sheer practicality.
de Hory is only one of the fascinating quandaries at the heart of F for Fake. The film jumps like a strange, fevered thought pattern from subject to subject, always touching on the same basic themes: what decides the difference between real art and fake art? Does opinion make art, or can it proved with fact?
Stories, paintings, novels...isn't it all pretend, in the end -- a shell of real things?
This is, at its heart, Orson Welles' film, despite the breadth and variety of his topics -- he is the narrator and ringleader of the film, offering a trademark smirk alongside his commentary -- a commentary delivered on camera and directly to the audience, like a conversation. This is Welles is at his lushest audacity -- recounting briefly his own career, from his beginnings as an actor in Ireland (for the record, he was 19 years old and pretending to be a New York sensation) and his part in the infamous War of the Worlds broadcast.
Worth Mentioning:
The Turning Point (1977)
Two former ballet rivals (the sublime Anne Bancroft and Shirley MacLaine) clash over the future of a promising young dancer -- especially tense since one of them is the girl's mother. Also: MIKHAIL!!!!
Pollock (2000)
The story of the rocky life of notorious painter Jackson Pollock. Which came first, my love of Pollock or my lust for Ed Harris?
My Left Foot (1989)
An Irishman born with cerebral palsy can control only his left foot. Nonetheless, he grows up from his poor, working class roots to become a prolific writer and artist.
Dangerous Beauty (1998)
A Viennese courtesan turned poet writes of the role of women in society, while using her intelligence to set herself apart in the superficial world of selling desire.
Modest artwork property of Amersandology.
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