Before I begin a series of long essays about the shows and ideas that have intrigued me recently, I will take the time to lay out the groundwork for my rationale for the upcoming blog entries. Most importantly, I don't intend these to be formal essays or critiques with hard ground rules that I will adhere to with rigid formalism. I'll be honest: I'm too damn lazy to do all that.
However, I think it will be helpful for any potential readers, if any exist at all at this point, to explain that I do have some preferences, or predilections if you will, for certain lines of thought and hyperbole. So please bear with me, if you can.
My next essay will be about an anime series called "Hyouka" which finished airing not too long ago. This show interested me with its depth and multiple layers of meaning, although it wasn't necessarily the most entertaining show of recent memory. On the surface, the show is about some students solving a series of extremely banal mysteries with a light hearted atmosphere of mild humor and a taste of romance. Underneath, lies what seems to be a dark maw of incredible cynicism that is seems to be in direct opposition to that surface of youthful slice-of-life optimism.
My essay will not be a regular review of the program itself. In fact, it will be helpful for the reader to have actually seen the show already and wishes to engage in further discussion about it. There will be substantial spoilers, for example.
In order to understand where I will be coming from, I will be discussing the show as in informal deconstruction based on my own personal assumptions, hence it will be heavily colored with my own biases. It's pretty much impossible otherwise, since I am not a native Japanese speaker and will rely on subtitled translations to discuss the spoken content of the show. I have been watching Japanese anime and cinema for many years, as well as some layman's familiarity with their culture, but I have no formal or complete education in their history or linguistics. In other words, a native Japanese may have a wildly different interpretation of my analysis or notice important details that I am likely to have missed or misunderstood.
Another thing to understand is that I like to use a layman's form of metaphorical analysis that is based on Joseph Campbell's theories on mythology and Jungian dream symbology. His depiction of the monomyth was made famous by the popularization of his book, "The Hero with a Thousand Faces", when George Lucas referenced it as a source for his Star Wars movie. However, my discussion will not actually focus on the monomyth, but on Campbell's other great work, "Transformations of Myth through Time." Specifically, I like to reference his lecture on the Grail mythos and the search for what he called "an authentic life" in order to escape the "wasteland" or "inauthentic life"which is based on T.S. Eliot's famous poem.
My essay on "Hyouka" will therefore be in relation to the concept of the human desire for "authenticity" in one's personal life and how it conflicts with the velvet prison of society. I will show how the anime series evokes the imagery of imprisonment and suffocating loss of self in a cruel world while, on the surface, it appears to be a cheerful show about some kids.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Saturday, June 8, 2013
On the limits of criticism...
Before I launch into my own analysis and critique, I'd like to take a moment to talk about what I perceive to be the "limits" of criticism. Now, I do not have the hubris to claim that there indeed hard limits to criticism as a conceptual whole. What I am trying to express is that criticism has somewhat natural boundaries that form from its very application, much like a designers loupe does when placed on a graphic to examine details. In other words, one must be aware when examining things closely that one can lose track of the "big picture" while staring closely at the subject at hand.
Another way that the bounds of a critical line of thought can change is from contextual information beyond the scope of the subject itself. A long time ago, I read a scathing review by Harlan Ellison of the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey (my memory may be faulty, so if I am misattributing this review, please correct me). Part of the reviewers justification for his critique was that he had gotten a piece of insider information from someone who had worked on the film. The insider confirmed that much of the plot surrounding the apes was tacked on after a panicked screening with the producers of the movie, supporting the writer's opinion that the story was a cobbled together mess fixed with an emergency band-aid of metaphysical mumbo-jumbo Kubrick pulled out of his ass.
Later on, I've read many other articles about the production, much more positive ones, that somewhat jive with the concept that the movie was a continual work in progress, even to the point of being re-edited after its initial premiere. This extraneous information can obviously color ones analysis of a movie, despite the fact the vast majority of a film's audience will probably never be aware of these things. Is it fair to critique a movie based on elements outside of the experience itself? Is it fair to judge a painting, because it was known the artist was having a mental breakdown at the time, for example?
I actually have mixed feelings about this. Harlan Ellison himself is famous for writing on the fly, joining in challenges to take a basic idea and whip out a short story while sitting at a coffee shop. I won't pretend to know his internal process for creating a story, but I wonder just how it forms inside his skull. Should knowing the mechanical details of how the process of editing and conceptualizing words to paper color our opinion of the story itself? Should we be impressed, or disconcerted, that the story in question was pumped out in a rather short time? In other words, is it really fair to use contextual information beyond the subject itself to judge a work? Because, a lot of people have discussed how directors, especially Kubrick, manage the creative process of a film all the way until it hits final release and sometimes beyond. As long as we (well, some of us at least) are entertained, does it matter that Kubrick was ass farting his way to fame and fortune?
It's a big can of worms to me, because, then you may ask, What is artistic genius anyways?
Here's another example of how extraneous information may influence a critique of a movie, for better or worse. I was entertained, though not blown away, by Chrisopher Nolan's Inception. I thought it was well made, mostly interesting and entertaining. Later, I read discussions and saw youtube videos that illuminated various details of both the movie and how it was made that made the movie pretty fascinating to think about and supplemented my enjoyment of the movie and how I felt about it.
Knowing some of the background became relevant when I got into a discussion with a friend who disliked the movie. When I asked him why, his first answer was that there was an unrealistic element during the inception process that ruined his suspension of disbelief. Fair enough, but I pointed out it may not be a mistake but a deliberate inclusion because (spoilers ahead!) the entire movie is a metaphorical dream, down to the timing of the soundtrack, intended to be a rather elaborate conceit of Christopher Nolan, the real dream architect,trying to incept us, the audience, who are the ones dreaming. If you view the entire movie as a dream, all the inconsistencies start making sense. My friend's next example was that the wife was a flat, one-dimensional character, as well as just about all the supporting characters. My response was, that made perfect sense, because she was always just a figment of the hero's imagination. The other characters have vague backgrounds and inconsistencies exactly because they are just constructs in the heros subconscious.
He then kind of contradicted himself by blurting that he never meant those examples to be "mistakes" even though he started off on that tack, but fair enough, I let that slide (because in many cases, just because something is deliberate doesn't necessarily make it good. For example, I was never a big fan of Dumb and Dumber: "But they're supposed to be stupid!" "Ya, I know, I don't care, the joke was funny for five minutes then I had enough.")
He changed tactics and then said, "Good stories have to have characters I can relate with. Remember that Star Wars Episode 1 review? All about good character development?"
See the video here on youtube.
I can't directly dispute that. If part of your enjoyment of a movie always requires relatable, complex characters, then yes, I can't fault you for not liking it. For myself, I just couldn't relate to any characters in Otomo's Akira hence, despite its cult status and all that, I just never really liked it.
But if you actually watch the video, one of the best and most thorough critical analyses of any movie ever, the narrator even says himself that these rules aren't set in stone. All creative rules are essentially practical rules because the vast majority of the time they do apply and apply well. However, in all creative fields, there have been many exceptions: artists who broke rules all the time. Sometimes they succeed, sometimes they fail. One can say that Nolan did fail, because according to one theory, successful art requires participation of both the artist and the audience. My friend didn't enjoy it and didn't pick up on the conceit, so the art "failed" in that sense.
My ultimate point is that my friend was technically "correct" in his analysis and he is justified for not enjoying the movie for his own reasons. (Here's the big bad "but") BUT, his analysis was not thorough enough, it has been bound by his own preconceptions and expectations, without taking into account the-admittedly rather obtuse-conceit of the creator. In my opinion, to fairly judge a piece of art, one must be willing to move your limits around to meet halfway from where the artist is coming from in order to judge it fairly, not stand by a rigid set of preconceived notions about how stories "should" be told.
There are many exceptional and fascinating movies that break conventions out there. Personally, do I prefer relatable and complex characters? Of course, but sometimes I watch a movie for other reasons. 2001: A Space Odyssey had few, if any, relatable characters. It is a visual poem that made me think about the nature of the universe and my place in such a vast and strange place. The images themselves became a type of "character" speaking to me in a purely esthetic sense that makes that movie hypnotically powerful. A writer, following the "rules" would demand that Heywood Floyd or David Bowman become the hero with maybe a flashback to "flesh" out the characters and make them more "believable." Bullshit.
I had another argument with another friend who was disgusted at Kubrick because he had ordered the actors to behave with minimal emotion. "Real people don't act like that! What was he thinking?"
"Uh, hello? I think he wanted to create a sense of alienation, that humans had become no more than cogs in a technological machine. Now, you can still feel free and think that is a dumb idea, but for myself, it helped build a sense of foreboding and isolation that really made the movie unique and different."
(As an aside, if you watch video or hear audio of real astronauts and pilots, especially from that era, they are highly trained professionals who have been selected to be incredibly stiff-lipped and in cool self-control. They generally don't lose their shit, overreact, become insubordinate, get emotional, obstinate or any laundry list of "normal" human fucking reactions because those types rarely survive their first training accident.)
Another way that the bounds of a critical line of thought can change is from contextual information beyond the scope of the subject itself. A long time ago, I read a scathing review by Harlan Ellison of the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey (my memory may be faulty, so if I am misattributing this review, please correct me). Part of the reviewers justification for his critique was that he had gotten a piece of insider information from someone who had worked on the film. The insider confirmed that much of the plot surrounding the apes was tacked on after a panicked screening with the producers of the movie, supporting the writer's opinion that the story was a cobbled together mess fixed with an emergency band-aid of metaphysical mumbo-jumbo Kubrick pulled out of his ass.
Later on, I've read many other articles about the production, much more positive ones, that somewhat jive with the concept that the movie was a continual work in progress, even to the point of being re-edited after its initial premiere. This extraneous information can obviously color ones analysis of a movie, despite the fact the vast majority of a film's audience will probably never be aware of these things. Is it fair to critique a movie based on elements outside of the experience itself? Is it fair to judge a painting, because it was known the artist was having a mental breakdown at the time, for example?
I actually have mixed feelings about this. Harlan Ellison himself is famous for writing on the fly, joining in challenges to take a basic idea and whip out a short story while sitting at a coffee shop. I won't pretend to know his internal process for creating a story, but I wonder just how it forms inside his skull. Should knowing the mechanical details of how the process of editing and conceptualizing words to paper color our opinion of the story itself? Should we be impressed, or disconcerted, that the story in question was pumped out in a rather short time? In other words, is it really fair to use contextual information beyond the subject itself to judge a work? Because, a lot of people have discussed how directors, especially Kubrick, manage the creative process of a film all the way until it hits final release and sometimes beyond. As long as we (well, some of us at least) are entertained, does it matter that Kubrick was ass farting his way to fame and fortune?
It's a big can of worms to me, because, then you may ask, What is artistic genius anyways?
Here's another example of how extraneous information may influence a critique of a movie, for better or worse. I was entertained, though not blown away, by Chrisopher Nolan's Inception. I thought it was well made, mostly interesting and entertaining. Later, I read discussions and saw youtube videos that illuminated various details of both the movie and how it was made that made the movie pretty fascinating to think about and supplemented my enjoyment of the movie and how I felt about it.
Knowing some of the background became relevant when I got into a discussion with a friend who disliked the movie. When I asked him why, his first answer was that there was an unrealistic element during the inception process that ruined his suspension of disbelief. Fair enough, but I pointed out it may not be a mistake but a deliberate inclusion because (spoilers ahead!) the entire movie is a metaphorical dream, down to the timing of the soundtrack, intended to be a rather elaborate conceit of Christopher Nolan, the real dream architect,trying to incept us, the audience, who are the ones dreaming. If you view the entire movie as a dream, all the inconsistencies start making sense. My friend's next example was that the wife was a flat, one-dimensional character, as well as just about all the supporting characters. My response was, that made perfect sense, because she was always just a figment of the hero's imagination. The other characters have vague backgrounds and inconsistencies exactly because they are just constructs in the heros subconscious.
He then kind of contradicted himself by blurting that he never meant those examples to be "mistakes" even though he started off on that tack, but fair enough, I let that slide (because in many cases, just because something is deliberate doesn't necessarily make it good. For example, I was never a big fan of Dumb and Dumber: "But they're supposed to be stupid!" "Ya, I know, I don't care, the joke was funny for five minutes then I had enough.")
He changed tactics and then said, "Good stories have to have characters I can relate with. Remember that Star Wars Episode 1 review? All about good character development?"
See the video here on youtube.
I can't directly dispute that. If part of your enjoyment of a movie always requires relatable, complex characters, then yes, I can't fault you for not liking it. For myself, I just couldn't relate to any characters in Otomo's Akira hence, despite its cult status and all that, I just never really liked it.
But if you actually watch the video, one of the best and most thorough critical analyses of any movie ever, the narrator even says himself that these rules aren't set in stone. All creative rules are essentially practical rules because the vast majority of the time they do apply and apply well. However, in all creative fields, there have been many exceptions: artists who broke rules all the time. Sometimes they succeed, sometimes they fail. One can say that Nolan did fail, because according to one theory, successful art requires participation of both the artist and the audience. My friend didn't enjoy it and didn't pick up on the conceit, so the art "failed" in that sense.
My ultimate point is that my friend was technically "correct" in his analysis and he is justified for not enjoying the movie for his own reasons. (Here's the big bad "but") BUT, his analysis was not thorough enough, it has been bound by his own preconceptions and expectations, without taking into account the-admittedly rather obtuse-conceit of the creator. In my opinion, to fairly judge a piece of art, one must be willing to move your limits around to meet halfway from where the artist is coming from in order to judge it fairly, not stand by a rigid set of preconceived notions about how stories "should" be told.
There are many exceptional and fascinating movies that break conventions out there. Personally, do I prefer relatable and complex characters? Of course, but sometimes I watch a movie for other reasons. 2001: A Space Odyssey had few, if any, relatable characters. It is a visual poem that made me think about the nature of the universe and my place in such a vast and strange place. The images themselves became a type of "character" speaking to me in a purely esthetic sense that makes that movie hypnotically powerful. A writer, following the "rules" would demand that Heywood Floyd or David Bowman become the hero with maybe a flashback to "flesh" out the characters and make them more "believable." Bullshit.
I had another argument with another friend who was disgusted at Kubrick because he had ordered the actors to behave with minimal emotion. "Real people don't act like that! What was he thinking?"
"Uh, hello? I think he wanted to create a sense of alienation, that humans had become no more than cogs in a technological machine. Now, you can still feel free and think that is a dumb idea, but for myself, it helped build a sense of foreboding and isolation that really made the movie unique and different."
(As an aside, if you watch video or hear audio of real astronauts and pilots, especially from that era, they are highly trained professionals who have been selected to be incredibly stiff-lipped and in cool self-control. They generally don't lose their shit, overreact, become insubordinate, get emotional, obstinate or any laundry list of "normal" human fucking reactions because those types rarely survive their first training accident.)
Friday, June 7, 2013
Another Beginning
After many years of fiddling about and creating my own websites only to have them gather dust from sheer neglect and apathy, I have decided to just go ahead and use one of these free blogging tools in order to "do that social" thing that is so popular these days. Ok, to be even more honest, I'm just too damn cheap and lazy to put some of my anime blatherings on my own personal domains. It's not like the Drupal content management system is all that hard to maintain, but over the years, I have lost the will to even keep up with the basic skills in order to keep a simple CMS based website updated.
So here I am on Blogger with yet another obscure little anime fandom and pop culture related blog. I intend to use it to post thoughts that require more space or associated screencaps/artwork that are not appropriate for a Reddit self-posting. These days, I haunt the halls of /r/anime and other sub-reddits of interest to me. Currently, my first major post will be an analysis of a show that has finished airing a while back, but still intrigued me with all its metaphorical content and subtextual meanings. It's still a work in progress, so I shall return with it, hopefully, before sheer apathy strikes me again and I just can the whole thing.
So here I am on Blogger with yet another obscure little anime fandom and pop culture related blog. I intend to use it to post thoughts that require more space or associated screencaps/artwork that are not appropriate for a Reddit self-posting. These days, I haunt the halls of /r/anime and other sub-reddits of interest to me. Currently, my first major post will be an analysis of a show that has finished airing a while back, but still intrigued me with all its metaphorical content and subtextual meanings. It's still a work in progress, so I shall return with it, hopefully, before sheer apathy strikes me again and I just can the whole thing.
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