But This Is Wondrous Strange | Week 8
Week the 8th, Telling It Like It Is
So this catch up scheme I had is no good. I'm just guilting myself for no valid purpose so I can say that, technically (the best kind of saying), I did a newsletter a week! You and I both know what's 100. On the social media front, I'm making some progress cutting back on most, backsliding in other areas. I have made a good showing on the nighttime ritual of no screens and a physical book, but going to bed is complicated by a) a shifting work schedule that gets me home, variously, between 3pm and 11pm, after which I really want to unwind for a bit, but can't always do that because I often have to get up in 8 or 9 hours, and, well, I still have to do some drawing or answer messages. Process evolving, updates forthcoming. We cracked the thousand-word barrier this time, is that good?
Bit by Bit, Putting It Together
I made a couple of film lists yesterday, at the bequest of a film buff friend. The first is my top 10 "most rewatchable" movies, and it didn't take long to bang out a serviceable roster of the movies I cling to for comfort viewing, along with several I have seen probably nearly 100 times. Such is the age of digitized and locally stored video. And, here it is:
- Star Wars
- Raiders of the Lost Ark
- Finding Nemo
- Real Genius
- Time Bandits
- Stand by Me
- Wonder Boys
- Labyrinth
- Monty Python and the Holy Grail
- Dazed and Confused
I sent it as a numbered list, but it's unordered here because I really don't have a distinct hierarchy. Some of them just happened to be more readily accessed in memory than the others. Real Genius is still my favorite film of all time, in no small part because I love its ability to evoke a sense of "being in school" in me every time I watch it. It's been this way since I caught it on a rebroadcast as I was failing out of my freshman year at The University of Arizona as a lost and troubled creative writing major.
I can't detect any unifying thread of theme or content. Someone write me back if you see one. A couple of them subvert the Hero's Journey plot: Time Bandits and Holy Grail, both having Terry Gilliam in common.
I was a little dismayed at the preponderance of male characters. Only one of those films has a female lead. Only one was directed by a woman. Dazed and Confused might pass the Bechdel test, but I don't think the rest do. There are, however, strong female characters in (running down that list in order) Leia, Marian, Dory, Jordan, Sara (the other one), and several of the ensemble in D & C. That's not so bad, is it, woke voice in my head? The overwhelming whiteness is another issue, but we evolve as we learn and examine.
These are all films I've seen dozens of times, one probably between a hundred and two hundred, and I own all but Raiders. This makes them easy to pluck out and put on, sometimes from start to finish, occasionally just to have something comforting playing for an hour.
What's the harm? Re-reading books is encouraged, and it can often lead to new discoveries or insights. Great films are similar, the second or third viewing can enhance theme and meaning for us. But what's the value in the 50th time I watch Holy Grail? I bought and read the script just out of high school, and that was after renting the video several times. I can quote vast swathes of it, possibly even reenact the entire film with a similarly knowledgeable Python geek and an occasional prompt. It's fun! It's soothing!
But. And. Like nostalgia, a little bit gives extra color and feeling to life. A lot of it is an opportunity cost. It's become easy, as social media addiction is easy, to indulge in the familiar and comforting to the exclusion of the new, or at least the unexperienced. The inverse of that desire to indulge in the endless feed of infinite novelty, it can become a ward against challenge, or learning. It's good to have something to work on, to chew on, to go through. It's beneficial to bring new stuff into your mind and memories, not just re-run the familiar.
I was thinking about these things as I finished Bojack Horseman's final few episodes. I put off watching season 5 in favor of comfort viewing and throwaway reading. It's hard to watch, even as it's simultaneously hilarious. Bojack's struggles with self-sabotage and depression are so much closer to my own than familiar stories.
And they're so very worth experiencing. I'm still digesting the end and the journey of such weird and weirdly real characters to it, so there's probably more to come about it.
one red wheelbarrow
Rain was, until a day or two ago, regularly visiting my city. I really, really enjoy it. For most of my life, growing up in the deserts of the southwest, rain seemed like a blessing. It was a gift from the sky, shuttering the blue and casting a shadow over the world. Then, water from the heavens, peppering the dust and scrub, saturating everything with impossible wetness. The smell of fresh desert rain is forever intoxicating. Spending so much time in virtual worlds, it's something that directly connects me to the planet I exist on for this short blink of time.
Links? Oh man, I got links.
- Speaking of depression, Darryl "DMC" McDaniels telling the story of how Sarah McLaughlin saved his life is another of those magically hilarious, terrible, and beautiful stories I loved this week.
- Fascinating technical description of The Mandalorian’s real-time virtual set system that allows for in-camera effects and backgrounds. All hail The Volume. (Also, as one might expect for a magazine aimed at cinematographers, discussion of the cameras, lenses, and sensors abounds.)
- I've been into subverting my own assumptions and biases for decades. I think it's a healthy way to live and stay humble. I read this interview with Sendhil Mullainathan about survivorship bias and the ways it has seeped into culture, making us think the powerful and rich are not where they are in many ways by chance.
- I dove deeper into ...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead's latest album X: The Godless Void and Other Stories. It's the best since Source Tags & Codes (2002). It's one of those albums that feels like a journey, and it's both devastating and thunderously beautiful. And at a tight 50 minutes, it's not at all a chore to take. Recommended, 4.5/5.