I have been working on the great amerikan novel. Soon to be on bookshelves world-wide and occupying
best seller lists everywhere. Maybe. But if not, I am amusing myself in the process of its creation, at any rate. But that's as may be. I wanted to catch up with the alternative blogoshphere and share some thoughts that don't have to do with the book over which I have been laboring.
I like movies. That is to say, that I like the 'idea' of movies.
I know, I have bored you with this subject before, but I feel that more needs to be said about the medium and how I feel that it is more important than we all think.
Now, you know me. I don't watch bad films. Or at least try not to. Those ones with a producer/director/ or actor whose grandparents were holohoax survivors. That is to say that I vet my film watching activity to almost entirely Gentile endeavors. Which of course is getting harder and harder to find. If a movie is distributed or produced by a jewish owned company, I will continue past the credits because I understand that practically any films with popular distribution MUST have jewish fingers in them somewhere. If it is just distribution, well, I will forgive that for an hour or so as long as their is no editing power associated with such kosher money grabbing. If there is...well, it will show up in the finished product and I will pan it.
That being said, I had the misfortune to watch "Saving Mr. Banks" recently. I took on this judaic endeavor, merely because I have a serious crush on Emma Thompson. I have seen many of her films, of course, and will normally keep my finger on the volume to silence all but her lines. Like most British actors, she has done some serious manure in her career in the name of continuing to ply her craft. I have spoken about this peculiar English view of the dramatic arts before, and as frustrating as it is to see Shakespearean Brit thespians stoop to conquer, it seems that enduring sometimes horrible films is a necessary evil if one wishes to see them at all. Oh well.
Anyway, back to hollyweird lies on celluloid. I did not expect the film in question to be factual. As Ms. Thompson herself declared about the factual inaccuracies in the movie: "We aren't documentarians, we are entertainers".
That hit home with me. I know that it is a simple concept. Movies are movies. Not fact. Fiction is fiction and facts are facts. And documented facts cannot be entertaining. Can they?
I have a deep-seated respect for Walt Disney. That doesn't make me popular among conspiracy nutjobs or the leftys that decry his sexism and alleged racism. Like the medium of film, again, I like the "idea" of Disney. I hated "Mary Poppins" when I first saw it. And watching clips of it now has done nothing to dispel that nauseating feeling that I associate with the overdone. Too long. Too much to distract from the narrative of the original book. Too much music. Too much dance. Too much flash. That says jewish to me. And of course it was.
The history of the tussle between Walt and Pamela Goff, the book's author, could have been a real statement film. Told in fact. Told as it happened. For it wasn't a tussle between those two necessarily, but one between the authoress and the jews bent on making it a spectacle extraordinaire. But that wouldn't be entertaining. Or kosher. Or would it? We aren't allowed to decide this. The facts of the drama about Ms. Goff's relinquishing the film rights to her children's book are almost the exact opposite of what is portrayed in the subject film. But that is 'license' and when it comes to Western cinema, we all know who issues such warrants. The facts are that Ms. Goff tried her damnedest to preserve the magic of her tale in the face of jews that she literally hated, but eventually relented to... for much needed money. I won't fault her for that anymore than I will fault someone patronizing a jewish bank to buy a home. It's the only game in town. I also won't fault Walt for his desire to see such a charming tale brought to the screen. He was after all trying against all odds to preserve the magic of childhood for the entire world. That was his mission in life and he literally died trying to accomplish it.
Fact and fiction have always been combined in the arts to produce an entertainment. An open and close package, whether it be books or plays, film, art, and I dare say music. We have been trained by literary license to suspend factual information for dramatic interpretation. Nothing new there. This technique has often been used to propagandize to be sure, but never as much as it is being so used currently. It is being used to rewrite every factual occurrence imaginable. When artists cling to the license they allow themselves now, they substantiate that freedom with visions of dramatic effect. As if life itself cannot be dramatic and it must be created and sold as what really happened. But for anyone that buys in to the horseshit that real life
drama(and after all, do script writers believe that they 'invented' drama?) cannot be faithfully reproduced with staggering impact on film, has never seen films such as "Breaker Morant"
This seems a simple criticism, to be sure. But what is lost in this process, you might well ask. Much, says I.
Most everything. Simple thespians may offhandedly state that its just a movie, or its just a book, but I don't think they realize that movies or book treatments or "docu-dramas", as they are wont to call them, are taken as fact, no matter any disclaimers, written or assumed. I know there was a man named Walt Disney. I know generally what he accomplished. So when you portray him on the silver screen as something other than what he actually DID do, with no factual reference to the contrary, I'm gonna believe what you tell me if it isn't too outlandish.The actors involved in such lies dismiss this fact. The movers and shakers that issue the license to misinform depend on it. But I digress.
I also re-watched "Men in Black" recently. The parallel of the "flashy thing"/neuralizer and the very film(and of course that flashy panel in your living room) slapped me in the face like three fingers of cheap scotch.
That is what I'm talking about. Every bit of decay in our time-saturated reality begins small. Insignificant. But by its very nature of eventual destruction, continues until all is consumed. Unless abated. A small lie or two about a famous person's life to make their accomplishments fit neatly between the pages of a book or within the time span of a film can seem negligible until it serves an agenda other than entertainment or prepackaged dramatic effect.
So what am I saying here? There is right and there is wrong. This is this...it isn't something else. No matter how you or your tribal concerns want it to be. So whether it is fictitious license to parcel a biography that doesn't want to bog the audience down with the boredom of the everyday life of its subject...to blatant political lying as we see in such classic films as "Shindler's List". The process is dangerous and can be used to rewrite uncomfortable history for political gain. The process is the means to its end.
So the next time you are munching popcorn and enjoying a biographical 'treatment', think of the flashy thing
in front of you and understand the motivation behind the license it invokes to bring you a dramatic package to consume.
"...and go out and get a decorator...cause...damn".