Control

Thursday, January 12, 2006

It struck me, as I made that addition on the last post, how silly it is to say the "best of." I have neither the time nor the capacity to see every "worthy" movie that is released in a year. It's a disturbing way to start the year, by falling on such a useless appellation. What I was trying to do, ineffectually, was express my enthusiasm for a film that I feel profoundly touched by. Maybe it's not the best absolutely, but last night, it was the best.

I mean, I must watch under a hundred films a year, whether they be in the cinema, on my computer or on television. Half the time, I stop the film, fall asleep, or walk away. I spent an enormous portion of my life watching moving pictures on a screen, being absorbed or bored by stories, people, events, things. In the same way, if I was to catalogue all the time I've spent in total reading about the details of other people's lives, it would total something quite ridiculous and "low-flame" depressing. I think Herzog's film was one of the first films in quite a while that didn't bore me for a single second.

Real ennui, though, belongs to the middle-class. They murder each other with cultural references. Blogs, television, magazines, fashion, film, music and even books are consumed. And that is the operative word here. Consumed. Artists these days make art where all they do is consume. This seems just about right. Consumption as creation, connoisseur in place of creator. (but I think this has been going on for a long time)

That's why these best of lists have reached epic disastrous proportions. Justifying worth by saying it's on a best of list, or that it's won a prestigious prize is not necessarily justification by merit. Because you like something doesn't mean you've made it. I can't think of anything worse than good taste, and I can't of anything I'm more guilty of.

Woody Allen talks a lot about luck. But, he doesn't watch his own films, he doesn't read his reviews. He wakes up and he writes. He writes and makes movies, all the time. He's a maker. Of course he is lucky to be who he is, making money from portraying luckless losers.

Yes, it's a bit my pet subject... the destruction of my soul in so many small and everyday ways... just my way of kicking myself in the ass, for I am the laziest of all the asses. And now... I'm going to dance a jig!

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wow, I can believe how vitriolic I sound... jeezus... if that's how I am now, imagine what I'll be like when I'm a granny! But, to give myself a bit of respite, today I also had to suffer through the type of work meeting that can make you quit your job. An idiotic co-worker marching us through the merry land of protocol. FUCK!