Monday, December 7, 2009
Hitchock's Reactions in Rear Wiindow
Lisa sees the dualistic image of Miss Lonelyhearts and Miss Torso. For her, she says she can identify with both of them. She identifies with Miss Torso through their mutual attractiveness. She too can have any man that catches her eye, yet she is waiting, just like Miss Torso, for Jefferies. She sees Miss Torso as a testament to her loyalty to Jefferies, and in the end, Miss Torso finally sees her man returned to her. Miss Lonelyhearts is a different signifier to her. Lisa parallels Miss Lonelyhearts as her present sense of loneliness. She sees Lonelyharts as an analog to herself if she doesn’t convince Jefferies to take their relationship more seriously.
The Thorwalds give Jefferies the ammunition he needs to see what married life is like to him. He sees the wife’s constant nagging and complaining to Mr. Thorwald, and Jefferies sees him resort to violence and murder to rid him of what Jefferies would see as a burden. Yet at the same time, Jefferies is intrigued by Miss Lonelyhearts. He comes to pity her and identify somewhat with her loneliness and depression. Perhaps he knows that with or without him, Lisa will be ok, like Miss Torso- she has many options, and to limit herself to wait for Jefferies flies against his ideas of freedom.
Hitchcock uses Jefferies and Lisa’s reaction shots to set up these feelings without the use of words and much dialog. It does appear more expressionistic and meaningful to see Lisa’s expressions while watching Miss Lonelyhearts or Miss Torso. His insight even applies to the Composer and the apparent relationship he develops with Miss Lonelihearts, showing that Lisa and Jefferies’ relationship can be redeemed and that Jefferies just may turn around and commit to Lisa. In fact, by the end of the movie, this is just what we see. The most impressive reaction shot is at the end, with Jefferies turned away from the window, a smile on his face while he sleeps peacefully in the apartment with his girl, Lisa.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Mamet on Manliness
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Lear's Tears and Inner Fears.
This is not merely a feminine understanding, it is a human one. For all of Jung’s work on exposing the archetype of the Anima, it is evident that these “feminine qualities” are merely shadows of a self that is often repressed in males, and has been considered an unmanly sentiment, especially in the time of Shakespeare and indeed, King Lear. It is precisely a consummation that Lear must accept if he is to understand all that a man is, and what it means to be fulfilled and in some ways, more individually refined. Did Shakespeare allude to hints of this Anima in Lear’s character, centuries before Jung’s time? If he did, is it as effective as the psychoanalyst’s works on the same phenomenon? It is difficult to tell what the average theater enthusiast thought of Lear in Shakespeare’s time, but it is clear to know what we think of him now in this more modern time.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Sentiment and Politics Intermeshed
Satrapi’s father argues that “politics and sentiment don’t mix.” His views on this matter are warranted, considering the tumultuous environment he had probably grown up in. It is probably easier to say that the personal ideology that you keep in a world as unstable as Satrapi’s would be more important than the political ideologies t hat you want to see enacted, especially if they are as conflicting as the philosophies of fundamentalist Islam and dialectic humanism. With so much violence and cacophony, it is easy to get lost without strong moral support and strong mental ties. Those who have seen it all before are the same people that give Satrapi strength; yet, it is obvious that this emotional strength can be sapped from a person’s prolonged exposure to what appears to be a resolutionless conflict- even those same emotional ties that held Satrapi before begin to unravel just a little at the seams before they get to be strengthened. It is in this way that Satrapi builds, destroys, and then mends her image of politics and sentiment as one.
With her mother, Satrapi places strength not just in her guidance, but in her attitude. Her loving, nurturing nature tempered with the fire of an intellectual, outspoken woman gives Satrapi her revolutionary spark and so long as her mother is still fighting against injustice, Satrapi draws her own political strength from her mother’s eagerness. What is interesting are the scenes when Satrapi’s mom errs more on the side of prudence or caution in a motherly, protective sort of way- Satrapi’s trust in her mom tends to waver, and her path becomes unsure again. This is particularly noteworthy as Satrapi becomes increasingly more rebellious. She begins fighting back against all restrictive ideologies and her resentment mildly even includes her mother’s political indifference. While her mom respectfully just wishes Satrapi safe, Satrapi sees her as backing down, or perhaps mildly waffling against the opposition’s dominance. It can only be viewed as betrayal through the eyes of a teenager. Sometimes it takes Satrapi ending up in bad situations, and sometimes it just takes the realization that her mom still just cares for her despite everything else.
Satrapi’s relationship with her grandmother is one that is more gentle and kind. Her grandmother always behaves kindly toward Satrapi, and her demeanor reflects that of any typical grandmother. Yet, from her grandmother, Satrapi learns what it means to be Iranian. The only time her grandmother ever gets mad at her was when she betrays another Iranian to the police when they questioned her about her makeup. Her grandmother knows that all Iranians share something together that cannot be ignored and as such, it cannot be betrayed, even over threat of physical harm or arrest. She constantly reminds Satrapi to “remember who you are” and what kind of identity that entails. Even though Satrapi’s parents, with their fiery political progressiveness, has worked towards the ideals of communism, it is Satrapi’s grandmother who seems to have championed the system in practice. For her, even her enemies are equals once the fighting’s over.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Gatsby's Martyr Good for Nick's Future
Nick’s poetic and detailed view into the world of Gatsby and the Buchanan’s provide the framework for an in depth analysis of these wealthy characitures, but what does Nick say about himself? He describes his family’s history in the beginning of the book as a sort of explanation for his involvement at the East Egg, and that he is in the bonds business. Yet, by the end of the book, Nick has seemed to erase any feelings of attachment to his peers in an attempt to distance himself from the whole hedonistic display. The only person that Nick still carries some feeling of affection towards turns out to be Gatsby; perhaps specifically because of the fact that Gatsby dies before Nick leaves for the Midwest. Had he not died, I’m unsure whether Nick wouldn’t have severed his ties with Gatsby like he did with Tom Buchanan. Gatsby’s obsession with Daisy and in turn the American Dream does not become his legacy until after he’s martyred, so except for whatever obligation Nick may feel he owes Gatsby, his reservations toward everyone else remain his chief action.
Does Nick turn out all right? It is perhaps a little pretentious to expect that Nick should shoulder the burden of Gatsby’s failure at capturing what apparently cannot be captured. Although Gatsby is transformed into an Everyman at the onset of his martyrdom, Nick benefits in the position of a kind of surrogate moral shareholder; his relation to Gatsby ends up becoming the focal catalyst to his critique of the American Dream and its failures. That green light does not hold the same mocking symbolism for Nick as it did for Gatsby, and Nick has the luxury of disassociation; Daisy is not his main love, she is his cousin- and Jordan’s disinterest in a more romantic relationship with him seems only to further turn Nick away from the East Egg lifestyle that he was so much a part of.
Nick’s story does not end in finality like Gatsby’s. He has a chance to become a bearer of wisdom; a warning of dreaming too big, perhaps, or overstepping a more realistic boundary. Regardless of what happened to Gatsby, his friend, Nick has buried him in his memory- in the beginning of the book, Nick claims his hindsight transforms Nick’s romantic naivety into a more realistic- perhaps cynical demand for “the world to be at attention.” His potential success stems not from an overzealous vision of how things should be, but a cautious reminder of how a self-imposed hubris can smash delusions of grandeur into dust. He moves back Midwest, a little wiser and perhaps a little more cynical, maybe a little poorer, but ultimately his future is perhaps a little smudged but altogether untarnished.
This conclusion leads one to believe that Nick will continue to fight against a current, but perhaps a milder one than Gatsby’s. And he will probably stay a little closer to shore, lest he venture too far and become lost at sea.