January 4th, 2018
Tonight I saw Del Tor’s The Shape of Water. Sally Hawkins’ performance was quite engaging and lovely. I thought the rest of the film was rather flat (it didn’t fall flat, it just felt flat), though my devotion to Del Toro’s artistic vision (in general, as pertains to his whole life) keeps me from being inclined toward too much criticism. I think that this one fell victim to too “much” immediate story with not enough narrative arc. Even though the story is literally a fantasy, its focus on the pure physicality of each moment came off as somehow unrealistic. I think the story overall could have benefited form a bit more abstraction, a bit less form overall, and more emphasis on the symbols and themes at play without spelling them out quite so overtly. Less immediacy? A shorter running time? I’m not really sure. Overall though, I know he’s an aesthetic filmmaker, so it would be hard for him to not show things.
January 3rd, 2018
The kids have made it their practice to put an Open or Closed sign (or rather, OPAN and CLOSD) on their door to let adults know their visitation rights at any given time. It almost seems, however, like they make these rules only in order to create the exceptions to it. “No one is allowed… except for daddy,” As if the opportunity for benevolence that come with offering restricted access comes quite naturally to 6-year-olds. Indeed, they carry this power with a natural pomposity. Then again, maybe, the signage is just a strategy to stop us from keeping track of how messy their room is.
January 2nd, 2018
In the world of “connectiveness”, in which we can never quite be alone, in which all knowledge and all people are accessible at the push of a button (or the wave of a hand or the sound of a voice), I find it interesting that humans have (or, I have) become continually more insecure in self. It seems natural that with such tools of reassurance at our constant disposal (Yes, I am here. Yes, I care. Yes, you matter), our more insecure tendencies would become dull over time, bored of the casual accessibility of our world, and would therefore transition to something…different. As if the objects themselves (the objects of connection) would exude a soothing aura. However, I have felt the opposite to be true; my ability to “unplug” is not tied to my followers, or likes, or any popular social metric (platforms which I have largely divorced myself from), but manifests instead as an insecurity that if am not “present,” not available for my family, for my friends, for my team, them I am not present at all, in any form. As if the worthiness of my existence is contingent on my ability to respond.
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