NANCY DREW, INCEPTION, & THE WORLD ACCORDING TO GARTH

Once in a while, you come home from a movie and you know that you’ve just experienced something great. Other times, you come home and you think you experienced something great, but it may have just been a dream. My metaphysical jury is still out on the wonders of INCEPTION.

It’s kind of like Nancy Drew. Nancy Drew? What on earth does Nancy Drew have to do with the movie, INCEPTION? you may ask. Allow me to explain.

Years ago, a little girl who was supposed to be sleeping read Nancy Drew books under her covers by the illumination of a flickering flashlight. That little girl would read until she could no longer hold open her faltering eyelids, then, in the midst of the vicarious sleuthing, she’d drift off to sleep. In her dreams, the mysteries would always go in directions far more interesting to that little girl than the imaginations of the imaginary Carolyn Keene. Before long, that girl quit reading Nancy Drew, because the plotlines became disappointing.

Likewise, the blockbuster summer film INCEPTION is built upon a fun idea that provides a framework for some pretty spectacular special effects, but I don’t think the result is as groundbreakingly original or heart-stopping as some reviewers would have you believe. As usual, hype kills. You may enjoy this film more if you go in with lower expectations, so allow me to lower them for you. Before you dub INCEPTION “the greatest film of the decade” or an “instant classic” (as some online reviewers have done), step back, take a deep breath, and make sure someone hasn’t just hacked into your mind, planting a version of a film that doesn’t even exist.

Some people are lauding the “depth” of this

story. So... we go to a dream within a dream within a dream within a dream. Does that make this a psychologically deep and original story? I think I saw that same scenario played out by Garth in an old SNL “Wayne’s World” sketch. Just as I can dig a deep hole and still come across nothing but dirt, depth for the sake of depth doesn’t represent a wealth of content. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good dream movie and I don’t think INCEPTION was bad. I just think it had flaws, and I question whether those who so wholeheartedly (to the point of near worship) ignore those flaws may have had their minds hacked into and had ideas planted which have taken over like a virus.

If you are in love with the movie, don’t let me ruin your romance. Our reactions to films, after all, are subjective. We all bring our own projections with us into the theater, and those projections can make a single story different to different people. Moreover, we may not even be talking about the same movie. What is reality anyway? Maybe I only exist in your dream, or you in mine...

Here’s what is certain: I think I saw INCEPTION last night, but it may have just been the idea that my daughter put in my mind when she said I should go see it... What if there is no such movie, and technology has grown to the point where you can merely suggest that there is a film and people will imagine that they have seen it? Making seed-planting trailers might be cheaper than actually completing a film.

Logic is like an oven mitt.

Logic is like an oven mitt.

Need I go on? What more is there to say? If you can draw conclusions from the analogy, then there may be hope for you; if not, well, then (as the great Roseanne Roseannadanna used to say) "Never mind."

On a not entirely different subject, someone finally inquired into why I have not been writing here lately. Truthfully, it hasn't been mere laziness or even innocent preoccupation that has kept me from it as much as outright hiding. The title of this installment holds a clue to at least part of the reason. Anyone who caught the missing blogs may have detected a hint of frustration seepin' out my seams.

In the time since my last surviving blog:
~ there has been a senseless death in my community caused by an immature, irresponsible, selfish act;
~ my defenses were piqued when media buffoonery crossed the line with hasty and unfair generalizations that hit too close to home; and
~ suddenly real life surroundings in every direction began to bear a closer resemblance to the shocking spectacle of Reality TV.

Now, it's my birthday.* I've been thinking that by my age I should be settled with a pretty good grasp of the world around me, but it seems that rather than making more sense, things are making less. And as I observe the smug know-it-all attitude of so many young (and old) people these days (did I really say that? Boy, am I sounding old now?!!), I can't help but wonder if "the [proverbial] hill" that people refer to "being over" when they get old is actually the tipping point between thinking that you know it all and realizing how much is outside your realm of knowledge.

When you hit those bumps near the crest of that hill, it seems that there are a couple possible results: (1) they humble you, bringing you down to earth, or (2) they send you soaring airborne into denial (you think you're still on the upward climb, but in reality, you're just full of hot air, biding your time before the inevitable crash.) I edited and ultimately deleted a few blogs because I so desperately want to be found in the former group--humble, grounded--but I had detected a pinch of smugness in the mix. (It can happen to all of us, so the best we can do is try to be ever honest, ever learning.)

Well, the kitchen timer is beeping. It's time to take the cake out of the oven. Do I really want to fold a dishtowel and hope it's thick enough to keep me from burning my hands? There must be a better way.



* July 21 (when I wrote this, not when I posted it)


Sincere gratitude to my friend, Jim Foust, whose facebook status line inspired the title (and thus the direction) of this installment of Rebekah's Core.

Being Lovely

A few years ago, a friend gave me a lovely birthday gift. Knowing how much I enjoy the movie, Breakfast at Tiffany's, she gave me a book entitled How to be Lovely: the Audrey Hepburn Way of Life (by Melissa Hellstern). As I glance at my shelf and wax philosophical, I am drawn to focus on one word in that title: "Be."

"Be" is a very present sort of word. It doesn't say "How to Become Lovely." The implications of these words are distinctly different. The difference ties in with this insight on yearning:

"Yearning is not only a good way to go crazy but also a pretty good place to hide out from hard truth." (from an old Creative Screenwriting email: Jay Cocks, the screenwriter of De-Lovely)

If one of the functions of yearning is an avoidance of truth, focusing too much on what we want to become someday off in the future can serve as an excuse (distraction) for not being what we want to (or should) be now.

It reminds me of a philosophy class I took years ago. As my friends and I worked on our final papers for the class, I realized that being caught up in the "search" for truth was actually keeping some of us away from believing anything in the present. It was as though the very search--the yearning--became a beloved idol-god that mocked any definite belief.

Obsession over the search, the yearning, can keep a person from appreciating or embracing the present--that which is as clear as day... while the one who has become a slave of yearning is constantly drawn to looking in the shadows for life.

"For since the creation of the world, God's invisible qualities--his eternal power and divine nature--have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse. For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened. Although they claimed to be wise, they became fools and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like mortal man and birds and animals and reptiles." (Romans 1:20-23)

Yearning determines vision--where we direct our sight.

"We look for the next reason to be happy. What if it is not about what happens to us, what we own or where we live, but how we look at it? Maybe those rose-colored glasses aren't such a bad idea after all." (Melissa Hellstern, How to Be Lovely)

As an artist, I find myself often yearning for the perfect expression. In the frustration of trying to become something that I am not yet, it's easy to become cynical and start looking at the world through darkened lenses.

I need to remember that it's not about becoming, but rather about being. It is through being that we become... and being comes from clearly seeing:

"...whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such..." (Phil. 4:8)

Power of Media: Nazis, Reality TV, and You

My friend Greg recently shared this link to an article on a rather disturbing "experiment":


http://news.sky.com/skynews/Home/Strange-News/French-TV-Experiment-Which-Encouraged-Players-To-Torture-Another-Contestant-Condemned-In-France/Article/201003315575334?f=rss

Given that so many of my friends are active or at least interested in various forms of media, I'd very much like to discuss the subject of the power of the rolling camera, the flowing pen, the clicking keyboard, etc. Power used and power abused. Power knowingly employed and power under-estimated...

What are your thoughts?

Ouch, that Hurts so Good: The Tortured and the Torturing Artist

Ouch.

Just got one of those healthy, humbling kicks in the pants that reminds me of why some artists say they don't read reviews, and it's got me thinking about rejection in general. Artists of any sort get a lot of that ouchy stuff and the hurt is probably deeper the more of yourself you put into what ever it is that is getting shredded--be it a painting, a poem, a performance...

I can't remember any especially bad reviews as an actor, so most of the rejection I associate with acting would be audition-rejection--not getting the part--which is a daily staple for most actors. There are so many factors that go into casting, so that kind of rejection is really no statement about the talent or value of the actor as an artist... it's more of a matter of fitting in. I can deal with that.

Rejection of a script can be similar, but since it takes longer to create a script than it does to secure and drive to an audition, I think the blow to a writer is a little bit more personal. Writers, too, have to remember that often the rejection of a script is a matter of not fitting into the line-up or tastes of a particular production company at a particular time (that's not to say that a writer shouldn't also consider the fact that the script may still need work, or may actually belong in the trash).

The jolt I got today was neither of those types. It was a full frontal assault on the most personal piece of work I've ever done. It wasn't a simple "I didn't like it" or "It wasn't my kind of thing..." but rather: "This was the biggest disaster of the festival... if people are telling you nice things..they are being kind…not truthful."

I wrote, directed, and produced a piece that I knew wasn't for everyone. I knew I was taking a risk and that there was a chance that I would be the only one who "got it," but on the off chance that there were others out there, like me, who longed for this type of film, I made it. When I read that review, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. It was the bluntness of it that caught me off guard, though. I was raised on the Bambi philosophy of "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."

Don't get me wrong--I'm as opinionated as the next person (okay, maybe even more so), but I do always try to balance the blow with some kindness, some benefit of the doubt, some personalization of the "maybe it's just me" type. And this reviewer seemed to truly HATE our film--enough to put the energy in to rattling off his/her longest review of any in the festival. I think the review was actually longer than my script!  [BTW, I found it interesting that he/she could dub something the "biggest disaster of the festival" so early in the line-up--there is a lot more to the festival than just the shorts. Who knows? there could be a 5 hour documentary on which direction one should hang a toilet paper roll! I do hope that Mr./Ms. Brave Anonymous Reviewer will expend the energy to come back and update the review if some later film manages to beat us out for the honor of the "biggest disaster"; however, since most reviews are basically hit-and-run, I don't expect and would be seriously shocked by such a courteous post script. But I can dream, can't I? I'll imagine the addendum of: "sorry, I spoke too soon; your film was actually the second worst disaster of the festival. It didn't suck as bad as _____." Ah, what relief!]

Before this review, I was already struggling with how to word my own comments on other films in the festival. I want to be constructive. I want to see filmmaking as a whole grow in artistic quality, but I also realize that much of appreciation is in the eye of the beholder. I want my words to encourage that which is universally good, beautiful, challenging, moving, entertaining and all that, but I also don't want to be a snob that derides things that I personally don't like just because it doesn't suit my particular taste. It's a scary thing to put your art out in front of others to be critiqued, but it's also daunting to be in the role of the one offering feedback. Sometimes I'm tempted to do neither and just crawl back into my cave and write. Sometimes I think I should become one of those artists who refuse to read the reviews and just create what they want to create... but I have a feeling I'll always be tempted to peek, and I'll always go through these emotional roller-coasters after doing so. To me it's part of being an artist. People don't walk down the street looking for artists to torture... it's something we do to ourselves. It may be painful for those who have to live with us to watch, but I think it does have some value in that it humbles us and it pushes us on to fight back--to reach even further next time.

"Acting Out" in Desperation

I got into a conversation today about actors. My daughter and I are producing a short film together. This is Grace's first time as a producer. At eighteen years of age, she still looks young. Most girls her age trying to get in movies are pursuing the dream of being ON camera, not behind the camera--especially when they are as good looking as she is (and I'm not being biased, it's a fact.) Anyway, as she manned the door of our call back room: checking in actors, handing out sides, getting them to fill out paperwork, and dealing with those who grew impatient waiting, she was occasionally mistaken for an actress cutting in line. A few waiting actors, in their weariness from waiting, were rude to Grace. She's good-natured and didn't let it get to her, but what she really noticed was the sudden shift in how she was treated when some of these actors learned her title, "producer." This lesson is not unique. I learned it a few years ago when I first took on the "powerful" role, and I've heard countless other producers share their memories of the first time they noticed actors "kissing up to" them in hopes of getting cast.

Well, when I shared this tidbit with an actress friend who I know strives to be real and kind and respectful of everyone, she expressed embarrassment over the behavior I described, saying: "A sad testimony to our 'race' -actors!!" I love her humble attitude, and I've seen that same beautiful humility in many other actors. In fact, during the previous days' auditions, I had interviewed almost every actor who came in, asking questions about WHY they wanted to act and what it was that kept them in it. Not one person said a word about fame or getting attention. Instead they would come alive talking about how wonderful it is to get to understand what it would be like to be someone else. What they spoke of, even if they didn't have the word for it, was empathy. I know that from my acting days, and it's something that keeps us writers going too. Empathy is that something that fosters connections that are deeper than surface, and I believe its something that many creative-types thirst for more than the average person--a driving force.

That's why I went on to tell my friend that I think actors are wonderful people... They may be annoying at times, but *anyone* in a state of desperation can fall prey to self-defense mechanisms that are blind to the needs of others. We all have to guard against that. Most actors have a hunger for that "getting inside the skin of another person" which can lead to a very positive sense of empathy. Ah, but that desperation is always lurking... It's complicated, like everything else. I think actors amplify life, both on screen/stage and off. They amplify the good and they amplify the not-so-good. They amplify that which is noble in human beings and that which is base and even downright destructive. It's important for an actor to be able to get into all sorts of characters, and in the process of fighting for those roles that can be so few and far between, they sometimes forget about feeding the "character" that represents them as real-life persons. That is one of my passions when it comes to working with actors--to help them discover the connection between creating characters through tapping into empathy and creating *character* that is truly empathetic--to help them discover how their career can be a ministry to the hearts of their audience and to the people they deal with day-to-day as they learn to be truth-seers, truth-tellers, and truth-be-ers.

Yes, I've been annoyed by the pandering of some actors. But, yes, I can empathize with actors--I've been there and I know what that desperation is like. Those outside of the profession who look at actors as vain and shallow would do well to consider what it would be like to be in a career that requires a person to re-apply for the job over and over and over again, being rejected the majority of the time, sometimes for reasons as silly as wearing the wrong shoe size. It's quite a sacrifice to go through the rollercoaster of emotional highs and lows, of rejection and adoration followed by more rejection, and for what? Is it a selfish endeavor? No, most storytellers, whether it be the writer or the actor or the director or any of the many team-members it takes to make a film, most of these people do what they do because they really want to make a difference in the lives of others. This is the way that they can most effectively communicate, and their desire to communicate is a compulsion that often even overrides their own well-being. For that reason, I would encourage anyone who is judgmental of actors to try on a little empathy. It's something we all could use a bit more of.

AVATAR: Where did the extra “D” in 3-D come from?

Dare I admit that AVATAR left me feeling... um... unfulfilled? I’m at a loss as to how to begin my response to this new 3-D super-high-tech film. While some of those who are singing Cameron’s praise as the Ruler of the Universe look at me like I’m crazy to not join in the mantra, I sit dumbly with no response... kind of like I did during the movie. True, it was full of beautiful eye candy, but I feel like the kid on Christmas who opts to play with the box rather than stare at the fancy gadget her parents forgot to buy the batteries for.

Was it just a matter of the hype setting me up for such disappointment? I wondered if that might be the case, but then I remembered TITANIC. Cameron’s previous film was also surrounded by a lot of hype. I went to see the sinking ship film at the bidding of a friend who said I had to see it because it was “the best movie ever made.” I admit that, initially, I was sucked in by the visual beauty, the romance, and the emotional ache that left me feeling like I had experienced something profound... but it didn’t last. In retrospect, I know that I was manipulated, not truly moved to think or process my response to the story. TITANIC did such a good job telling me what I should feel about it that the experience never became personal for me, and thus, it has not lingered in my memory as a great movie.

It’s not that AVATAR is a bad movie, per se. Perhaps I wouldn’t feel compelled to rant if it weren’t for all the hype. When hype goes to the extreme of not only making sweeping Oscar predictions, but even making comparisons to classics that have stood the test of decades, I believe hype warrants a deeper analysis. Avatar is being touted as an historical landmark. One comment in response to a review of this film read:

“AVATAR is to our generation as Gone With The Wind was to our parents (or grandparents) generation. This is the dawn of a new era in movie making.... You will be forever changed after you experience AVATAR. I feel grateful. Awsome [sic] is the only word I can use.” (Victor Nemo, http://blog.beliefnet.com/idolchatter/2009/12/avatar-movie-review.html)

As the praises of masses rise and undulate in the balmy, albeit smoggy, breezes of Hollywood, it’s as if it fulfills some visual prophecy given within the film itself. The masses of admirers sit naked in the moonlight, bowing and chanting in unison the name of James Cameron, as if he were the tree inhabited by the mother goddess. All are connected, of one mind. Why am I not in tune with this universal hum? Why do I feel like mourning in the midst of this celebration?

The visual achievement of AVATAR is unquestionable, but is that alone enough to stand the test of time? Not long ago, I heard a speaker at a screenwriting conference say that a time will come when all films will be shot and exhibited in 3-D. The idea saddened me. Earlier 3-D was clunky and had a tendency to call attention to itself. I must say that this technology was a much more natural element in AVATAR (even if the glasses were still oppressive to a four-eyed geek like me, who had to add them to the weight of spectacles already perched on my nose--when will they come out with 3-D clip-ons for those of us already wearing glasses? I mean, you just try being comfortable wearing TWO pairs of lenses for almost three whole hours! But I digress.)

Back to the reason the 3-D trend disturbs me. When I think about art and painting styles, it would be tragic if due to the ready availability of photography, artists stopped painting. You may say that is an absurd comparison, but the idea some have that ALL film will be 3-D in a similar way signals the potential of loss of legitimate forms of artistic expression. My primary concern, however, is the plight of story. Will the penchant for out-tech-ing previous films become so epidemic that story will habitually be relegated to second fiddle? Stephanie Zacharek made a good point in her review of AVATAR (http://www.salon.com/entertainment/movies/avatar/index.html?story=/ent/movies/review/2009/12/17/avatar), that although Cameron essentially spent fifteen years bringing this story to the big screen, the script—that is the story—does not seem to reflect such an investment of time. I would have to agree.

The idea was good and had great potential. However, I think I know where that additional “D” in 3-D came from. It didn’t appear out of thin air, but rather was stolen from the characters, who--even though they visually “pop” off the screen--are nonetheless flat caricatures, and the storyline, which suffers from lack of development. The stereotypes (especially of the bad guys) were so pervasive that there really was little to relate to except from a distance.

Enough of my film snobbery! Even though, like so many others in this industry, I’m prone to the “I could have done that better” attitude, that’s not what I’m saying. I know I couldn’t have done better on such an ambitious project as writer/director/producer/editor/and-whatever-I’m-missing-in-the-total-king-of-the-world-job-description. Not I, as in “I alone.” Something would have suffered, and with me, it likely would have been the special effects. However, in the company of great collaborators whose skills are being milked to the fullest, I know this could have been a much better film. I hope this lesson will stick with me in the rare event that I ever personally achieve “Queen of the World” type success: turn down the title, embrace the team, and never lose sight of the importance of story. A strong story will cover a multitude of technical mediocrities, but I don’t think the reverse is true if you’re looking for a lasting emotional impact. At least that's my opinion.

p.s. If my friend who acted in the film reads this, please know that MY idea of how to make the script better would include enlarging the role of YOUR character ;)