Opinions?
Recently I've gotten into Woody Allen films. And when I say gotten into, I mean that I've watched 5 or 6 of them in the past month and a half. The library where I work had to make room a couple of years ago to integrate most of our media center's video collection due to budget cuts, and I've taken to checking out movies (or just taking them home with me, but don't tell nobody) somewhat regularly. I mean, I only work 6 hours a day and have very little social life. So what do I do? I put off working on my cartoon and watch movies, that's what I do. So I decide to check out "Sleeper", one of Allen's earlier movies, and I laughed so much at that film. I won't go into details about the plot, because that's not what attracted me while watching the film. It was the style of comedy, hokey though it sometimes was, that I liked. It was something I had never seen before. It's hard to describe. Okay, well, truthfully, it probably isn't, and such statements like that would probably be insulting to people who write papers and articles and whatnot that describe Allen's style of comedy. I say it's hard to describe because I don't want to expend the mental energy to do so because I have so much else on my mind that I'd like to write tonight. Anyway, so I liked "Sleeper" so much that I started watching other of his movies that we have on our shelves.
It seems to me, at first glance, that his films became more serious as his career progressed. But don't think that means that they became any less funny. I have deep respect for writers who can produce comedy that never really makes you laugh out loud that often. In the Allen movie I just watched, "Annie Hall", there was really only one moment that really caught me off guard and caused an outburst of laughter. Allen's character is standing in line at a theater and is annoyed at the man behind him going on and on with his opinions about this, that and the other about television. Allen pulls him aside and says "What do you know about the work of Marshall McLuhan?" The man replies, "I teach a course on television and media; I would like to think my opinions about Marshall McLuhan's work have some validity." Allen then says, "Well, I've got Marshall McLuhan right here, let's see what he has to say." McLuhan then says to the man, "You don't know the first thing about my work. I don't see how you managed to get a job at any university with your opinions." Allen looks at the camera and asks, "Why can't life be this easy?"
Anyways, I just got done watching "Annie Hall". It is the best Woody Allen movie I have seen so far. It was chock full of subtle humor, one-liners, and enough relationship problems to provide discussions for a college psychology course for at least a semester. In fact, I kept thinking throughout it that so much of what I had learned in my Psychology of Interpersonal Relationships class was applicable to what I was seeing in this film. And I guess that's one of the reasons I really liked it.
And I guess I left the movie thinking about the reasons I liked it, you know, where I got my opinion that it was a really good movie. I think, for one, that we're apt to like things that we understand and can connect to other knowledge in our brains. The fact that I could understand what was going wrong with the relationship between Woody Allen and Diane Keaton on a psychological level was key to my enjoyment of the film. Another thing is that, to me, the movie was very realistic. And by realistic, I mean two things which don't necessarily fit the definition of realistic. For one, it didn't follow your typical love story formula; that is, Allen and Keaton are not back together by the end of the film. On a more personal level, the relationship between the two characters reminded me very much of the last serious relationship I had, insomuch that a lot of the problems were the same, as was the outcome. And I remember from somewhere in my college career (film class? theater appreciation?) that movies (or plays) attempt to provide a means of catharsis for the viewers, to provide emotional or intellectual release on a topic. The movie, for me, let me live out some of my own feelings through its characters, and it let me get some things off my chest. Ultimately, I think the ending of the movie (perhaps the fact that it had an ending, that it must have an ending) gave me, perhaps, a new way to look at and feel about my own similar situation. A way to pack it into a box as one must store things in an attic, and move on.
So I think, perhaps, taking why I liked the movie into consideration, I can say that maybe we tend to like things that remind us of ourselves? Shoot, sure I can say it. Everyone loves confirmation of themselves. We tend to make friends with people with the same opinions because it bolsters our beliefs. We shy away from those who disagree with us, especially on important issues, because it challenges us. A strong difference of opinion tells us that maybe, just maybe, we might be wrong, and we would hate to admit to any sort of stupidity. We also, I would think, tend to like stories that reflect our own, because it tells us that we are not alone in having the thoughts we have, that there are others like us, others who go through the same things we do, and that our experience as a human being is not so singular as we secretly believed when we were in middle school. (There's a psychological term for that--big surprise!--but I can't think of it at the moment.)
All right. I think that post should make up for all the puny, girly-man posts I've been doing this past week. Thanks for reading!
It seems to me, at first glance, that his films became more serious as his career progressed. But don't think that means that they became any less funny. I have deep respect for writers who can produce comedy that never really makes you laugh out loud that often. In the Allen movie I just watched, "Annie Hall", there was really only one moment that really caught me off guard and caused an outburst of laughter. Allen's character is standing in line at a theater and is annoyed at the man behind him going on and on with his opinions about this, that and the other about television. Allen pulls him aside and says "What do you know about the work of Marshall McLuhan?" The man replies, "I teach a course on television and media; I would like to think my opinions about Marshall McLuhan's work have some validity." Allen then says, "Well, I've got Marshall McLuhan right here, let's see what he has to say." McLuhan then says to the man, "You don't know the first thing about my work. I don't see how you managed to get a job at any university with your opinions." Allen looks at the camera and asks, "Why can't life be this easy?"
Anyways, I just got done watching "Annie Hall". It is the best Woody Allen movie I have seen so far. It was chock full of subtle humor, one-liners, and enough relationship problems to provide discussions for a college psychology course for at least a semester. In fact, I kept thinking throughout it that so much of what I had learned in my Psychology of Interpersonal Relationships class was applicable to what I was seeing in this film. And I guess that's one of the reasons I really liked it.
And I guess I left the movie thinking about the reasons I liked it, you know, where I got my opinion that it was a really good movie. I think, for one, that we're apt to like things that we understand and can connect to other knowledge in our brains. The fact that I could understand what was going wrong with the relationship between Woody Allen and Diane Keaton on a psychological level was key to my enjoyment of the film. Another thing is that, to me, the movie was very realistic. And by realistic, I mean two things which don't necessarily fit the definition of realistic. For one, it didn't follow your typical love story formula; that is, Allen and Keaton are not back together by the end of the film. On a more personal level, the relationship between the two characters reminded me very much of the last serious relationship I had, insomuch that a lot of the problems were the same, as was the outcome. And I remember from somewhere in my college career (film class? theater appreciation?) that movies (or plays) attempt to provide a means of catharsis for the viewers, to provide emotional or intellectual release on a topic. The movie, for me, let me live out some of my own feelings through its characters, and it let me get some things off my chest. Ultimately, I think the ending of the movie (perhaps the fact that it had an ending, that it must have an ending) gave me, perhaps, a new way to look at and feel about my own similar situation. A way to pack it into a box as one must store things in an attic, and move on.
So I think, perhaps, taking why I liked the movie into consideration, I can say that maybe we tend to like things that remind us of ourselves? Shoot, sure I can say it. Everyone loves confirmation of themselves. We tend to make friends with people with the same opinions because it bolsters our beliefs. We shy away from those who disagree with us, especially on important issues, because it challenges us. A strong difference of opinion tells us that maybe, just maybe, we might be wrong, and we would hate to admit to any sort of stupidity. We also, I would think, tend to like stories that reflect our own, because it tells us that we are not alone in having the thoughts we have, that there are others like us, others who go through the same things we do, and that our experience as a human being is not so singular as we secretly believed when we were in middle school. (There's a psychological term for that--big surprise!--but I can't think of it at the moment.)
All right. I think that post should make up for all the puny, girly-man posts I've been doing this past week. Thanks for reading!
posted by Casey at 3:17 AM
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