This fall saw the release of two crime dramas from venerated directors: David Cronenberg's Eastern Promises and the Coen Brother's No Country For Old Men. My wife and I saw both of them during their respective theatrical releases and recently, as we hashed over our favorite films of the year, I discovered something that surprised me and led my to question the very validity of the notion of film criticism. Both Carolyn and I liked each these two films, but we loved different ones. I found Eastern Promises to be a well-crafted but slight genre entry, while I was absolutely blown away by No Country. Conversely, Carolyn admired the craft and execution of No Country but was more deeply affected by Eastern Promises. What intrigued me about our differing responses to these two movies was that they didn't really have anything to do with the quality of the films. We didn't argue the technical merits of one film over the other, rather, our difference came down to divergent emotional responses to the material. I walked out of Eastern Promises unmoved, while No Country left me shivering. Carolyn had the opposite reaction. It turns out the Naomi Watts character, who I sort of wrote off as a wasted part (if I recall correctly, I said that all Watts had to do in the movie was "sweat the Morten-dong"), stuck with Carolyn, especially her emotional arc, which I largely overlooked. Watt's character isn't just seeking justice for the dead Russian girl who sets the plot in motion, she's resolving feelings of grief and guilt for her stillborn child, and struggling with an attraction to a man who terrifies and excites her. I'll admit, I noticed that stuff while I was watching the movie, but it didn't leave much of an impression. No Country, on the other hand, she called a "guy's movie." As much as I love this movie, I certainly can't disagree with that assessement; it's a diagnosis that helps explain why the film was less powerful for Carolyn. If all that stuff with Naomi Watts left me cold, why would Tommy Lee Jones mourning his lost virility be any more evocative for her?
This all raises the question: if our gender is that determinative of our emotional response to art, how the hell are we supposed to make meaningful judgements of films other than "I liked it"? I'm left thinking that the only thing that can be analyzed with any sort of objectivity are the technical aspects of a film: as I said, we both thought that each of these films was very well made and engaging. The elements that push a movie from "good" to "great" are almost entirely personal: your reaction is largely going to be determined by your age, race, gender, and life experience. At the end of the day, whether a film "speaks" to you or not often depends on what you're listening for. So, I guess the reason I'm making this largely-obvious point is because I want to know if there is a case for the opposite view: that craft is not the only thing about film that can be objectively analyzed; that you can measure the effectiveness of things like character relatability, thematic resonance and emotional impact. Right now, no such answers are forthcoming, but I'll certainly keep thinking about it.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
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4 comments:
This is a great set of questions, and I have heard many people say that "no country" is a "man's" movie. I think you can say similar things about the source material it comes from--McCarthy novels deal in the stuff of manliness in ways that can seem rather narrow in terms of its gender politics.
I haven't seen Eastern Promises, and so don't want to enter that specific conversation, but what I like about your idea of a year-end review is that it allows a kind of distanced view from afar over the entire landscape of 2007's 'big' movies, and so the point I'm trying to make is that from film to film, I'm not sure you can do much in terms of weighing its significance on a grand scale. You can say things about craft and emotional impact, but in the end you're just dealing with one movie. A fairly singular and ultimately narrow window by which to assess the film industry.
From afar, however, and with the detachment that comes from seeing movies in groups--picking up trends that seem to populate a certain "time" in the history of film--I think that's where the real juice of No Country and Eastern Promises really rises to the surface.
What do these movies say about the culture? What do they say about time and place? And how do they do it, on the level of each to each, in a way that demonstrates their particular abilities in doing so?
or something like that.
This is a great set of questions, and I have heard many people say that "no country" is a "man's" movie. I think you can say similar things about the source material it comes from--McCarthy novels deal in the stuff of manliness in ways that can seem rather narrow in terms of its gender politics.
I haven't seen Eastern Promises, and so don't want to enter that specific conversation, but what I like about your idea of a year-end review is that it allows a kind of distanced view from afar over the entire landscape of 2007's 'big' movies, and so the point I'm trying to make is that from film to film, I'm not sure you can do much in terms of weighing its significance on a grand scale. You can say things about craft and emotional impact, but in the end you're just dealing with one movie. A fairly singular and ultimately narrow window by which to assess the film industry.
From afar, however, and with the detachment that comes from seeing movies in groups--picking up trends that seem to populate a certain "time" in the history of film--I think that's where the real juice of No Country and Eastern Promises really rises to the surface.
What do these movies say about the culture? What do they say about time and place? And how do they do it, on the level of each to each, in a way that demonstrates their particular abilities in doing so?
or something like that.
Sorry--
The Assassination of Jesse James is another film that I think you really need to put into play here, and I know I keep harping on it, but I feel like I have to keep doing so. It does some surprising things with craft, gender, and defying the genre.
One more nugget--Moss' wife in No Country? Were the Coens a bit dismissive of her? I think so, or at least remember thinking so the first time I came out of the theater.
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