On the shores of a shifting sea, watched by shrinking brains
Pretty poetic title, huh? Well, it's all I could think of in this off-the-cuff free-writing exercise of mine. But it ties in with the thoughts going through my mind. Sorry if it's not so hot, but we all have our limitations.
I just finished watching the 50's version of On The Beach. If you don't know what it's about, I'll summarize: The world sank into a sudden nuclear conflict and now a massive radiation cloud is swirling around the globe, eventually killing all those who weren't killed in the initial blasts. There's no explanation for the nuclear exchange. The only survivors are people living in Australia, but only surviving for so long. The cloud is coming. It's relentless, unstoppable.
I find something charming and wonderful about a film like this -- mostly, because it would a bitch to make now. It was a movie with a grim ending. At the risk of spoiling the ending of a sixty-year-old movie -- no one survives. In fact, most folks choose government-sponsered suicide. No muscled hero blows in from the seas or creates some improbable wind farm to blow the radiation away from Australia (if you think that's a good idea, you're part of the problem I'm outlining). This is a film for adults and reminding us that no one gets out alive. Some times we fuck up so bad, no magical process is going to save us. No angels from God -- no celestial servants from any of the other thousands of gods people have worshipped, either. No action hero. No MacGyver to build some crazy anti-radiation shelter that will sustain humans for thousands of years.... No bullshit, in other words. People die and they do it alone and they do fearfully. Oh, and the babies die too... poisoned by the parents in our little Australian tragedy.
In a related story, Discover Magazine has an article on our shrinking brains. For the past 20,000 years, our brains have been decreasing in size -- from about 1,500 cc to 1,350 cc. The most plausible explanation they offered was that our brains were shrinking because we, like wolves to dogs, have become domesticated. We no longer have to think about everything. We're specialized, now. Some are farmers, some are scientists, some are hairdressers, and some are phone sanitizers (read Douglas Adams). We don't have to live day-to-day -- most of us, anyway. At the end of the story, it's stated that for the past 200 years, brains have been increasing in size -- but that's most likely because of diet, not because of mental push-ups. Our ancestors were most likely smarter than we currently are -- not genius level, but they might be little to the right of center on our IQ bell curve.
So, how does this tie in with On The Beach? Take a look at the movies, the popular movies, over the past thirty years. Mostly, it's saccharine-sweet brain pablum. Let's take a brief look, very brief, at a couple "doomsday" type films in recent times: Independence Day -- never has there been a more insulting plot. Never. A computer virus to save the world... really? It doesn't bother me so much that it's unspeakably absurd to imagine aliens using any type of similar computer operating system or language, but it bothers me that the film didn't get laughed off the screen. People liked it because it was full of sound and fury. Who cares about the details? If you care about the details, you're just a geek. You don't know how to have fun. Loosen up.
Nah, sorry. I can't get so loose that my brains fall out. How about Signs? Oh, boy. There's a slap in the face of pubescent intellect. Water kills the aliens? Yikes, that's stupid. I know M. Night was going for symbolism, but when your piece becomes about the symbols, why not just make a flag and be done with it? Don't bother me with your plot and story if you're not going to give a damn about them. Apparently, the aliens were so fuck-dumb that they decided it would be a good idea to land on a water planet when water is deadly ingredient in their biology. They didn't even bother with space suits. M. Night isn't the stupid one for foisting this on us; we're stupid for watching it and not laughing out loud.
Well, that's enough to make my point. I've used enough space; you can think of your own examples.
I'm saddened because our incredible shrinking brains leave us in the pitiable position that a movie with a "downer" ending like On The Beach might now be unmarketable. We don't want to think, anymore. We don't want to contemplate life in the face of death. We're all going to live forever in some happy flower patch of Heaven, surrounded by kittens and puppies, right? Right? We don't put much thought into this life and doing something meaningful because, hell, we have another -- eternal -- life to look forward to, right? There's no way that could just be a fantasy. We want to be happy.
I'm not suggesting that everyone get dark and morose like they've walked out of a Bergman flick... but let's just grow up a little bit, huh? Sometimes, it's good to think about the big things that we face -- death is one. I mean really think about it, not just in some off-handed, humorous way. Consider everyone you know will die. Children will die, too. It happens. Maybe without reason. Maybe this is all we have... this moment. In fact, I'm sure that's all we have. The rest is fantasy. Maybe it'll come true, but maybe it won't. That's where faith and fantasy share an uncomfortable space in our minds, like two smelly homeless people jammed into a phone booth.
Don't let your brain shrink any more.
I just finished watching the 50's version of On The Beach. If you don't know what it's about, I'll summarize: The world sank into a sudden nuclear conflict and now a massive radiation cloud is swirling around the globe, eventually killing all those who weren't killed in the initial blasts. There's no explanation for the nuclear exchange. The only survivors are people living in Australia, but only surviving for so long. The cloud is coming. It's relentless, unstoppable.
I find something charming and wonderful about a film like this -- mostly, because it would a bitch to make now. It was a movie with a grim ending. At the risk of spoiling the ending of a sixty-year-old movie -- no one survives. In fact, most folks choose government-sponsered suicide. No muscled hero blows in from the seas or creates some improbable wind farm to blow the radiation away from Australia (if you think that's a good idea, you're part of the problem I'm outlining). This is a film for adults and reminding us that no one gets out alive. Some times we fuck up so bad, no magical process is going to save us. No angels from God -- no celestial servants from any of the other thousands of gods people have worshipped, either. No action hero. No MacGyver to build some crazy anti-radiation shelter that will sustain humans for thousands of years.... No bullshit, in other words. People die and they do it alone and they do fearfully. Oh, and the babies die too... poisoned by the parents in our little Australian tragedy.
In a related story, Discover Magazine has an article on our shrinking brains. For the past 20,000 years, our brains have been decreasing in size -- from about 1,500 cc to 1,350 cc. The most plausible explanation they offered was that our brains were shrinking because we, like wolves to dogs, have become domesticated. We no longer have to think about everything. We're specialized, now. Some are farmers, some are scientists, some are hairdressers, and some are phone sanitizers (read Douglas Adams). We don't have to live day-to-day -- most of us, anyway. At the end of the story, it's stated that for the past 200 years, brains have been increasing in size -- but that's most likely because of diet, not because of mental push-ups. Our ancestors were most likely smarter than we currently are -- not genius level, but they might be little to the right of center on our IQ bell curve.
So, how does this tie in with On The Beach? Take a look at the movies, the popular movies, over the past thirty years. Mostly, it's saccharine-sweet brain pablum. Let's take a brief look, very brief, at a couple "doomsday" type films in recent times: Independence Day -- never has there been a more insulting plot. Never. A computer virus to save the world... really? It doesn't bother me so much that it's unspeakably absurd to imagine aliens using any type of similar computer operating system or language, but it bothers me that the film didn't get laughed off the screen. People liked it because it was full of sound and fury. Who cares about the details? If you care about the details, you're just a geek. You don't know how to have fun. Loosen up.
Nah, sorry. I can't get so loose that my brains fall out. How about Signs? Oh, boy. There's a slap in the face of pubescent intellect. Water kills the aliens? Yikes, that's stupid. I know M. Night was going for symbolism, but when your piece becomes about the symbols, why not just make a flag and be done with it? Don't bother me with your plot and story if you're not going to give a damn about them. Apparently, the aliens were so fuck-dumb that they decided it would be a good idea to land on a water planet when water is deadly ingredient in their biology. They didn't even bother with space suits. M. Night isn't the stupid one for foisting this on us; we're stupid for watching it and not laughing out loud.
Well, that's enough to make my point. I've used enough space; you can think of your own examples.
I'm saddened because our incredible shrinking brains leave us in the pitiable position that a movie with a "downer" ending like On The Beach might now be unmarketable. We don't want to think, anymore. We don't want to contemplate life in the face of death. We're all going to live forever in some happy flower patch of Heaven, surrounded by kittens and puppies, right? Right? We don't put much thought into this life and doing something meaningful because, hell, we have another -- eternal -- life to look forward to, right? There's no way that could just be a fantasy. We want to be happy.
I'm not suggesting that everyone get dark and morose like they've walked out of a Bergman flick... but let's just grow up a little bit, huh? Sometimes, it's good to think about the big things that we face -- death is one. I mean really think about it, not just in some off-handed, humorous way. Consider everyone you know will die. Children will die, too. It happens. Maybe without reason. Maybe this is all we have... this moment. In fact, I'm sure that's all we have. The rest is fantasy. Maybe it'll come true, but maybe it won't. That's where faith and fantasy share an uncomfortable space in our minds, like two smelly homeless people jammed into a phone booth.
Don't let your brain shrink any more.
Comments
Post a Comment