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Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Excerpt from my book Philosophical Perspectives on Cinema

At one end of the scale the world – persons, things, situations – is given to us in the aspect of “lived” reality; at the other end we see everything in the aspect of “observed” reality.


- José Ortega y Gasset





      Somerset Maugham is correct in his assessment in The Summing Up that philosophers are responsible for offering the “plain man a vision and suitable, even if tentative, answer to human concerns.”

      He argues that to evade this aspect of the discipline is to neglect a central aspect of the philosophical vocation. Maugham writes: “But the plain man’s interest in philosophy is practical. He wants to know what the value of life is, how he should live and what sense he can ascribe to the universe. When philosophers stand back and refuse to give even tentative answers to these questions they shirk responsibilities.”

      Some critics argue that cinema is an escapist medium. To some degree this is not only true, but also at times, it even serves a therapeutic purpose. Perhaps we should be sincere and remind ourselves that in a truer sense, all entertainment is escapist. However, human forms of entertainment can be rather imaginative, instructive, innovative and varied, from: the subtle relaxation of fishing, to the mental prowess of a chess match, to a baseball game or gardening.

      Yet to this we must add the relevant qualification that all forms of entertainment are ecstatic — to use the ancient notion of being outside ourselves — that is, they help to situate our existence in the world-at-large, as it were.

      Hence, cinema is valuable as an artistic form on its own merits because it acts as a kind of representation of human life. Part of the reason for this — as is also the case in personal life — is that the greatest lessons taught by reality proper usually go unnoticed by the average person in their immediacy. Let us not forget that experience alone teaches us nothing. We must reflect on the meaning of our experiences in order to understand them.

      If we do not reflect on the meaning and value of our experiences, then we just merely pass through the world without ever taking inventory of the purpose and meaning of our lives. This is perhaps where the work of the well-meaning commentator can find its strongest justification.


      From a strictly philosophical perspective - realism - or the attempt to see things as they really are without idealization, over-intellectualization, or ideological blinders should in principle serve as the fulcrum from which the thoughtful person can access the meaning of a film.


      However, raw reality - what can be referred to as the immediacy of experience - can never be truly surpassed. Ironically, it is precisely because of reality’s translucent quality that we often take life for granted. In other words, commentators, as well as the reflective viewer, serve as students of reality who try to reconstruct vital reality by reflecting on what any given film is attempting to accomplish. We are responsible players in this dramatic marriage, just as much as we are in our ability to decipher objective reality.

      Hence, the appeal of cinema for most people resides in its apparent portrayal of reality and its power to transform aspects of human existence into entertainment value. To the philosophical commentator, this quality can be brought to life through a film’s structural narrative, and the lingering impressions, emotions and thoughts that it can give rise to.

      The most interesting dilemma for the student of human life is that the objects of knowledge - as these exist in their immediacy - often absorb us in such a manner that we tend to forget ourselves. This is hardly a bad thing, however. Isn’t this perhaps also a good description of human life itself?

      This process necessitates a lapse in time that is necessary in order for reflection to occur, much like the light of a dead star that will continue to be seen for the duration of the time that it takes light to travel the distance between the star and Earth.

      However, cinema finds itself in a historically precarious situation today. Much like many aspects of human life, it has been cheapened, robbed of any inherent redemptive value. The problem is that in many cases cinema has become entertainment for the sake of entertainment, or what is essentially a dispensable, hollow, and disposable medium…just like human life, today.

      The denizens of aesthetic relativism and those who have radically politicized western culture have succeeded in blurring the line between high and low cultural expectations to such an extent that this medium now seems destined for certain aesthetic bankruptcy. The myopia for pretentious and coerced “theory” and radical ideological consumption, have had far-reaching and utterly destructive consequences that dictate how we think of cinema as well as leisure, in our time.

       Cinema has traditionally showcased its unique and privileged capability in its regard for secular and religious humanism. For instance, this understated humanism is evidenced in the camaraderie that is so effectively placed on display in William Wellman’s film Battleground, as well as in the surreal inner vitality felt by Bertrand in François Truffaut’s The Man Who Loved Women.

       Equally ennobling is Nick Charles’ sophisticated and urbane wit in The Thin Man series, and the ethereal weightlessness and fanciful mayhem of Frank Capra’s You Can’t Take It With You. These films embrace profound depictions of fundamental aspects of human existence.

       For instance, few other aspects of human existence are as exalting as laughter - the act of celebrating life by keeping proper perspective - a form of checks-and-balances over the trivial and mundane.

       And yet, also corresponding to the human condition is the stark, existential horror of living under communist dictatorship that Alec Leamas encounters in The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, the cathartic and joyful innocence of children in Albert Lamorisse’s Red Balloon, and the out of this world mayhem of Eliseo Subiela’s Hombre mirando al sudeste. Cinema can help us understand ourselves, as a culture, but most importantly, as autonomous individuals, and the purpose and meaning of our lives.









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