Lindo
12-01-2006, 06:25 AM
I just saw "Babel", a film that's as interesting for
what it is as what it does. And what doesn't get done
elsewhere.
Lump it in with "Crash" and "Amores Perros" and you
have a sort of genre of films made up of isolated events
tied together by some detail and perhaps subtle
ideas...perhaps ideas only in the minds of the critics or
audiences. Let's toss in a previous Pitt film, "The
Mexican", where the common thread is a gun passing hand to
hand: an idea other films have done.
My question is: why aren't we seeing novels like that?
It's not because people don't write them. Kozinski's
"Steps" won the National Book Award in like 1971. I came
within an ace of getting one published in 1990, describing a
series of photographs linked by rhymes of image and words:
the editor that liked it told me there is no chance they'd
even consider it now.
Which is more to my point: nobody in publishing wants
to see anything like that. Just ask them. Why not?
Actually I have a few half-formed ideas on the subject, but
would be more interesting in seeing what you have to say.
By the way, if anybody is interested, I include some of my
thoughts on Babel below.
BABEL
It's the sort of thing that makes other script writers
gnash teeth. Everything about is just WRONG, according to
Them. It takes forever to get going, it serves up long
silent streteches of some of the emptiest country
imaginable, it punishes our feeling as bad as "A.I.". But
there it is, with great actors and production and (to say
the least) budget.
But does it really work?
It's well worth seeing, of course. A great cast doing
great work. Hauntingly beautiful shots. A wonderful
soundtrack that pops in mini-videos of often alien music
like lead solos in a blues number. It sneakily engineers an
uneasy sense of impending dread more contrived and effective
than any horror film. We have seen a woman shot from
nowhere by random chance: we are prepared to see children
die from thirst, a young woman plunge to naked death, a
drunken hotshot shoot it out with border cops. But that is
mere manipulation. The film announces some heavy
intellectual baggage right off...the name alone. Is that
really there?
The critics keep spouting the already-tired idea of
butterfly wings affecting hurricanes around the world. Very
New Age, very Heavy. Very full of it. Are we seeing causes
and effects here? How many people travel to Africa? Give a
butterfly a rifle and a ticket abroad, and yeah, maybe he
can affect things there. That a woman shot in Morrocco has
children in Tijuana illegally that same day is just not a
common enough circumstance to hang a world view upon.
So back to that title. Critics have Babbled about it,
but can't really seem to pin it down. Is it a stunt?
(American critics just don't know what to say about a Wyeth
or Rockefeller, but can jabber all day about a Pollock or
minimal performance non-event.) Is it just talking about
failed communication? That language is just stage-dressing
while we all sit alone in desolate deserts? (Downtown Tokyo
comes off as one of the more desolate, by the way.) I hate
to say it, but that's pretty thin and has certainly been
done.
Sometimes juxtaposing a jumble of things, like putting
objects in a shadow box) can create a feeling of gestalt,
elevating them in significance. But does that actually make
them more significant. We see some devastating moments
here, but taken separately they might seem like soap
opera...events contrived to create teary closeups. I would
see the inclusing of the Japanese deaf girl as just tossing
in a cool story somebody heard or thought of...then bringing
in the rifle to hook it into the fold. It is the "odd story
out" of the three and without we would do less wondering
about the main story--and it would seem thinner.
We hear a conversation between Pitt and the little boy
twice. The second time he is crying alone in an Egyptian
clinic. An old, old, evocation of communication failure.
But is that what the film is about. On the contrary, we
see huge realms of communication working remarkably despite
barriers: a deaf girl talking to non-deaf boys, a sweeping
phone/cell/radio hookup between a village and an embassy and
the U.S. border and helicopters and TV spots around the
world. What if it had been called "Spin"? Or "Goats"?
The question, I guess, is how big a role this type of
film will play in the future. It's something that could
very easily be abused. Has it already?
what it is as what it does. And what doesn't get done
elsewhere.
Lump it in with "Crash" and "Amores Perros" and you
have a sort of genre of films made up of isolated events
tied together by some detail and perhaps subtle
ideas...perhaps ideas only in the minds of the critics or
audiences. Let's toss in a previous Pitt film, "The
Mexican", where the common thread is a gun passing hand to
hand: an idea other films have done.
My question is: why aren't we seeing novels like that?
It's not because people don't write them. Kozinski's
"Steps" won the National Book Award in like 1971. I came
within an ace of getting one published in 1990, describing a
series of photographs linked by rhymes of image and words:
the editor that liked it told me there is no chance they'd
even consider it now.
Which is more to my point: nobody in publishing wants
to see anything like that. Just ask them. Why not?
Actually I have a few half-formed ideas on the subject, but
would be more interesting in seeing what you have to say.
By the way, if anybody is interested, I include some of my
thoughts on Babel below.
BABEL
It's the sort of thing that makes other script writers
gnash teeth. Everything about is just WRONG, according to
Them. It takes forever to get going, it serves up long
silent streteches of some of the emptiest country
imaginable, it punishes our feeling as bad as "A.I.". But
there it is, with great actors and production and (to say
the least) budget.
But does it really work?
It's well worth seeing, of course. A great cast doing
great work. Hauntingly beautiful shots. A wonderful
soundtrack that pops in mini-videos of often alien music
like lead solos in a blues number. It sneakily engineers an
uneasy sense of impending dread more contrived and effective
than any horror film. We have seen a woman shot from
nowhere by random chance: we are prepared to see children
die from thirst, a young woman plunge to naked death, a
drunken hotshot shoot it out with border cops. But that is
mere manipulation. The film announces some heavy
intellectual baggage right off...the name alone. Is that
really there?
The critics keep spouting the already-tired idea of
butterfly wings affecting hurricanes around the world. Very
New Age, very Heavy. Very full of it. Are we seeing causes
and effects here? How many people travel to Africa? Give a
butterfly a rifle and a ticket abroad, and yeah, maybe he
can affect things there. That a woman shot in Morrocco has
children in Tijuana illegally that same day is just not a
common enough circumstance to hang a world view upon.
So back to that title. Critics have Babbled about it,
but can't really seem to pin it down. Is it a stunt?
(American critics just don't know what to say about a Wyeth
or Rockefeller, but can jabber all day about a Pollock or
minimal performance non-event.) Is it just talking about
failed communication? That language is just stage-dressing
while we all sit alone in desolate deserts? (Downtown Tokyo
comes off as one of the more desolate, by the way.) I hate
to say it, but that's pretty thin and has certainly been
done.
Sometimes juxtaposing a jumble of things, like putting
objects in a shadow box) can create a feeling of gestalt,
elevating them in significance. But does that actually make
them more significant. We see some devastating moments
here, but taken separately they might seem like soap
opera...events contrived to create teary closeups. I would
see the inclusing of the Japanese deaf girl as just tossing
in a cool story somebody heard or thought of...then bringing
in the rifle to hook it into the fold. It is the "odd story
out" of the three and without we would do less wondering
about the main story--and it would seem thinner.
We hear a conversation between Pitt and the little boy
twice. The second time he is crying alone in an Egyptian
clinic. An old, old, evocation of communication failure.
But is that what the film is about. On the contrary, we
see huge realms of communication working remarkably despite
barriers: a deaf girl talking to non-deaf boys, a sweeping
phone/cell/radio hookup between a village and an embassy and
the U.S. border and helicopters and TV spots around the
world. What if it had been called "Spin"? Or "Goats"?
The question, I guess, is how big a role this type of
film will play in the future. It's something that could
very easily be abused. Has it already?