So I am sitting. I have been doing a lot of sitting recently. Far too much, if I had to be honest, but at least I'm actually making some money sitting. I am living the loafer's dream.
Maybe I'll explain why I'm sitting and making money for it later, but for now my current position is what matters.
I'm sitting at a second-story window of a two-story apartment building, glancing outside occasionally to see the odd person walking down the relatively quiet street. I am listening to "500 Miles" by The Proclaimers and just got done listening to "One Night in Bangkok" by Murray Head. I see leaves on the trees outside browning and hanging on to their branches desperately while the tree itself struggles to shove them off, a natural interaction I just learned about thanks to NPR. I don't have access to the internet, so I'm typing this down on a blogger page I opened earlier before I lost the connection. I'm now listening to the theme song from the movie The Blob (1958) by Burt Bacharach. I've had Split Enz's "Late Last Night" stuck in my head for almost 48 hours, and I need to get it out. Maybe if I listen to Luke Temple's "More Than Muscle" next . . .
And I'm fighting to stay productive. I don't want to play S.T.A.L.K.E.R.: Shadow of Chernobyl for 8 hours straight again, no matter how fun it is.
So I'm blogging. I may as well.
So let's make this about movies, since that's all I ever think or talk about, apparently. The last movie I watched was Gimme Shelter (1970), a documentary about The Rolling Stones. But it wasn't really about The Rolling Stones, since I probably wouldn't have watched it if it was only about The Rolling Stones. I don't like The Rolling Stones. What Gimme Shelter was really about was the end of a very bizarre era. It was about the ill-fated free concert at the Alamont Speedway in San Francisco, where the ideals of the 60s collided with the realities of humanity, where music only provoked the wild beast, and where a guy got stabbed to death. It was a fascinating look at a time altogether alien to me.
Fine media player, I didn't want to listen to anymore music anyway. Up yours.
I was wondering recently why movies are such a big deal amongst people here in Utah. And I'm not conceited enough to think that anyone reading this isn't just a personal friend of mine, so I won't bother explaining what I mean. I'm pretty sure you get what I'm talking about. Why is so much emphasis placed on the movies we should and shouldn't watch? I'd like to say I used to understand, but since my uptight teenage self died several years ago, I haven't the slightest clue what the deal is. There are vague guidelines for music, video games, and even vaguer rules for literature. However, we suddenly have a culturally-enforced, letter-based code on which we shun or embrace (but mostly shun) certain movies.
I'm serious, let's really chew on this one for a second, and keep some things in perspective. Let's break it down to its base components. What is a movie? What makes movies special? Where did the R-rating nonsense come from, and how is it perpetuated? Why am I even talking about this, and where am I going with this? Keep in mind that since I have limited to no internet at the moment most of my musings won't necessarily be paired with relevant sources. This is purely a personal spewing of mine.
This is going to sound silly, but what is a movie, precisely? You know what one is, but what is it at it's core? Is Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen simply a means of telling a story? Is Roman Holiday nothing more than a product of Hollywood? Is Repo Man a comment on society? I'm hoping the answer to all these is no, because I don't think that's what they really are. All the substance and craft of There Will Be Blood and 8 1/2 and Jacob's Ladder all boil down to this fact: They are sequentially-aligned pictures, projected on a large screen in rapid succession, accompanied by some sort of audio track. This definition can include just almost every single film ever produced, as even the silent classics were often shown with some kind of audio accompaniment.
So when we make the leap from this definition to the prohibition of films with certain ratings, it seems like something of a silly proposition. But I'd like to start out with this perspective, as I think it helps keep the argument grounded.
Now comes the concession part of the discussion. Sure, I skipped several steps on the way from "series of pictures" to "seemingly arbitrary rules," like how powerful imagery can be to the human mind, or how persuasively some can utilize auditory signals. I will concede there is power in these elements, multiplied several fold when combined. In fact, that may be one reason why I obsess over movies so much. Their inherent ability to communicate to me on an emotional level is more important than the pretty colors and kick ass action I so often fawn over.
Hey look, it's next Wednesday and I'm sitting in the same spot I was on Friday. Might as well finish working on this.
So movies are really flip books with music and sounds. But some people find certain images and sounds offensive. Okay, I'll buy that. I found some things offensive when I was a teenager, so I can understand the position, but I feel like I've either grown out of that phase, or just become a soulless husk of a human being. Either way, I see where those people are coming from, and I accept the notion that parents don't want their children consuming some of that offensive material when they are too young for abstract thought. So begins the need for the movie industry to self-regulate and rate its own movies so that parents can make informed decisions about what movies they want to keep their kids away from.
However, I propose a little thought exercise. Let's imagine two offensive scenes from two different (and theoretical) movies. Let's say scene one is comprised of two thugs planning a vicious mugging on a wealthy businessman in order to grab some quick and easy cash. The attack takes place off screen, and all we see is the police reporting the breadth of the man's injuries to the press, which ultimately resulted in his death. We then see the crooks getting away with it and enjoying their ill-gotten plunder without harassment from the law. Contrast that with a similar scene of two crooks perpetuating an attack in an excessive display of on-screen violence. We see the stabbings in slow-motion, we see the jaw broken in even slower motion, and maybe even some arterial spray in mesmerizing slow motion. Once the gruesome scene is over, we see the criminals caught and faces the consequences of their actions in even more explicit detail. Whether or not they get the death penalty, we get to see them endure the torments of prison in grisly, visceral intimacy.
Now, if both cinematic sequences were submitted to the MPAA for a rating, the first one would likely get a PG or PG-13, while the second would probably get and R. Now let's have a theoretical child watch both scenes and wonder upon the results he or she is likely to extract from the parade of intertwined video and audio. Is he or she likely to grow more uncomfortable from the explicit nature of the second scene? Probably. Is he or she likely to enjoy the first one better, because of the happy ending? Again, that's possible. Is the emotional and narrative context of the first scene likely to communicate to the child that violent crime can pay in our society, so give it your best shot and hope you don't get caught? Despite the offensive nature of the second scene, would the child pull a different lesson out of it?
This is my problem with the way the Motion Picture Association of America is set up to rate movies (among other things). In their effort to help parents protect their children from media-induced harm, they are primarily concerned with the content of the films they are ranking - counting the instances of the word fuck, numbering the onscreen boobs and butts, and checking off a list of various types of violence - and almost completely ignoring the thematic content and emotional impact implicit in moving pictures. Sure, you could say, "But Kyle, they have a ranking for "some thematic material," so your point is moot!" However, really think of the last time you saw that ranking criterion used to justify a PG-13 or R rating. I have only ever seen it used to differentiate the slightly darker PG kids movies from the bright and cheery G movies.
In the mid-1980s, Ezra Taft Benson, then president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, gave three separate talks to youth of the church stating that they should avoid movies with the R rating. So, naturally, the entire church took all their R-rated VHS tapes to the used video store. Ever since then, word-of-mouth has caused the entire church (and, by extension, the cultural fabric of Utah) to think that God's will concerning movies is communicated through the MPAA. Some overzealous members of the church even banish all PG-13 films from their home, and smartly discipline their children if they watch anything more raw than Secondhand Lions.
I was raised in this world, where R was a letter to be feared and used as seldom as possible. Despite this restriction, I still developed a deep love of film, and watched all that I was allowed. While serving a mission for the church, I realized the contradictory nature of the R-rating ban, and started living without the ruling once I was home. I can't say how glad I am that I gave it up. Some of the best, most morally uplifting and inspiring films I've ever seen since have been rated R. My parents were briefly disappointed to hear about my decision, but soon began asking me how I liked many of their favorite R-rated films from their teenage years. I never knew my mom had been such a horror nut.
So why is so much effort put into dictating just what we may or may not see or hear from movies here in Utah? The conspiratorial side of me screams "social control!" While that may be a small element of it, I am more ready to believe it comes from a misguided sense of genuine concern. I think my parents wanted to shield me from some of the same stuff they saw in their youth simply because they thought I'd be better off without it, but I can't say I agree with their point of view. Movies are so much more than a smattering of potential offensive material that a Satan-possessed Hollywood industry is trying to poison our society with. They are a way to communicate emotionally when words simply aren't big or fluent enough. They are a method of expressing ideals when other mediums aren't persuasive enough. They are a way to entertain in a way that is completely unique. For all these reason, film is a medium that deserves more thought than a letter when deciding what to share with your friends, family and children.
I really don't care if you read all of that, but congrats if you did. Maybe if I have more big thoughts like this, I'll write another megablog about them. For now, I think I'll watch Aliens for the 67th time.
