Monday, November 07, 2005

So what if I'm a snob? A rant on popular culture...

Easily one of my favorite films of the last 5 years is David Lynch's Mulholland Dr. (2001). Try bringing it up in a conversation with friends, preferably of mixed company, and see what reactions you'll get. By far the most common response goes something like "loved the lesbian scenes, but everything else...what the fuck!?" Of course, it should come as no surprise that anything from the mind of Mr. Lynch would stir strong reactions ranging across the spectrum (e.g. Blue Velvet, Lost Highway, Twin Peaks, Eraserhead, etc.). I know one person in particular who was physically ill with disgust after seeing Mulholland Dr! I'm not this day, 4 years later, if I even mention the movie, this person nearly vomits on my shoes. So how can one person have such an intensely negative reaction while the person sitting directly next to them in the theater, watching the very same images, believe it to be the best thing since sliced bread? Doesn't matter. Because these reactions are the true power of art, culture, creativity, whatever you wanna call it...when films, music, books, television, photographs, paintings or self-expression of any kind can instill such visceral and polarized responses, something that kicks you right in the gut, that is what I'm looking for. An experience that gets inside you, for better or for worse, fucking you or stabbing you depending on your perspective. But at least you feel something! Maybe that is what I'm getting at. I'd rather watch Lost Highway (a David Lynch movie I passionately hate) over and over again than watch one single minute of Meet the Fockers. So maybe Mulholland Dr. doesn't do that for you at all. Maybe that is your "Meet the Fockers." But find out what does do it. And let me know what it is cause I wanna see it. Oh, and for those who have no idea on Mulholland Dr., here's a good article explaining one interpretation, though definitely not the only one.


Anonymous said...

movie: in the name of the father

Anonymous said...

movies that get inside you, stab you, elevate you, make you believe in something...indeed they are rare. "fall" is one that for some reason beyond me hasn't hit it big. it's my favorite movie of all time, a love story written and directed by Eric Schaeffer. his writing denotes true love, that magic mix of selfless commitment and passion. in the movie he writes his heroine a letter. i'll include it to give you a feel for the's worth hunting down to see.

monolog from 'fall' by eric schaeffer

i've wanted to tell you for awhile now.
i wanted to say it
as you reached for a teacup
in your kitchen that night we fought
about "why we always have to eat
chinese food on your floor"
and then made-up.
i wanted to say it
as the moonlight shown in on you
as you slept in your bed
the first time we made love there.
when i felt your heart racing against my chest.
in your (room) in spain,
when you first saw your roses,
even though i wasn't there.
but mostly i wanted to say it
the last night i saw you,
as i held you in my arms
looking down at your precious face
knowingly looking up at me.
still inside you,
but so inside you.
i wanted so badly to tell you that...

the words each time graced my lips
like an impostor.
only to fall away
like some great blizzard
that was taken out to sea
to rain it's fury on the dark ocean,
alone, unbeknownst to any hearing.

i pray that you can hear them
for what they are,
feel them for what they are,
and not mar them with the knowledge
that they stand apart from your ability
to reciprocate them.
please take them in your heart,
feel them with your eyes closed
and your soul open
for just a moment.
my voice speaking them softly
in your ear,
with a kiss.
when you smile,
when your head lightly moves to dance,
when your tongue finds my lips,
when you ramble over a glass of wine,
when you sit naked
after we've made love,
when you act boldly,
when you laugh,
when you squeeze my hand,
when you call my name in a gruff whisper,
when your heart races on my chest
in a close embrace,
when you love me.

what i'm sad about is selfish.
i'm sad at god's timing,
i'm only a man.
and as a man i miss you.
i miss you terribly.
i miss your kiss.
i miss your smile.
oh, how i miss your smile.
but most of all i miss the moment
that hasn't happened yet.
the moment when you let yourself
fall for me.

what makes it hard for me
is knowing how much you care for me,
how much in a way you do love me.
how much you would enjoy
smiling wryly as you hurled yourself
backwards off the cliff,
and said "catch me, baby."
if i didn't know that,
i could make you a villain,
me a victim,
and soothe myself.
but i can't
because it isn't the truth.
the truth we both know.
the truth is "not today".

i know you're not leaving (him) for me,
and i wouldn't want you to.
i would want you to leave him for you.
i also know you would never
fly a million miles
just to see me smile at you.
someday maybe, but not today.
so i guess i better disappear.
i know you'll be o.k.
and soon i will be too.

and maybe, just maybe,
if god so desires,
a day will come
when as friends
we will find ourselves
accidentally strolling along
the white cliffs of dover,
or the mountain rocks of mendocino,
or the bonny emerald north
of the scottish seaboard,
or the glistening harbor of old new york.
and from the heights in the stars,
amongst the angels
whose arms will cradle us,
in a moment neither of us was told about,
but knew like our oldest happiness.
we will look into each other's eyes
and know... it is today.
it is today.
and whether that day is tomorrow,
or next week,
or next year,
or next lifetime.
i will finally get to tell you
to your sweet face,
the face that i will miss
more than i could ever tell,
i love you,
i love you,
oh, baby, i love you.
and you'll smile wryly,
close your eyes,
say "catch me, baby",
and fall.