Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead (1943) inspired a film version of the novel, both of which have inspired people to put together the Ayn Rand Institute. East of Borneo (1931) inspired Joseph Cornell's Rose Hobart (1936). The potential of the movie camera itself inspired Vertov's Man With a Movie Camera (1929). The romantic magic that plays out in the sphere of the domestic on screen inspired Vanessa's own romantic and sexual fantasies. And Charles and Ray Eames inspired me to watch the Nanny Diaries (2007), instead of obscure, mind numbing, films as soon as I leave university forever.
The space of the cinema itself – all dark, and silent, and warm and private and public – inspires first dates and old dates and no dates. Sharing. At the drive in movies, it inspires 'heavy petting'. In the darkness of the theatre it inspires a stolen kiss. It inspires individuals to eat popcorn and go alone to a space, sit, watch, observe and absorb, and not feel lonely. When screened in a dark room at an adult shop, they inspire masturbation or emotional cheating while their wife sits on the couch at home fantasying about a Johnny Depp.
Once in a pub I met a boy. He had a twin sister. We talked a lot. We asked the bar staff for a pen. He wrote my phone number on a coaster. We talked and laughed and flirted and I stared at his ears; they were really pretty. We parted ways with a handshake. The cinema inspired me to run out of the pub and down the street, grab his shoulder, turn him around and kiss him – the cinema even inspired me how to kiss – and then run away again. I never did return his calls.
The cinema inspires me to soundtrack my life. With my iPod in my ears – when breaking up, flying away on an aeroplane, falling in love, people dying – I play a song as loud as I can, and let the tears drip down my face without wiping them off or let my body laugh with joy uncontrollably as the music plays.
Drama queen?
Todd Solondz and Ozu inspire the divine in the domestic space. Once something is put on the big screen it is hailed, justified and stamped with beauty – or ugliness - which is beauty.
'City Symphonies' inspire travel and adventure, and take the tedium out of train journeys. Tourism and living in the city. A drink at the pub. Wearing an old hat. They inspire travel for those that cannot travel, but don't make them sad, but happy.
Movies can inspire societal progression without even knowing it. Objectivism or even anti-racism, they can inspire those without a voice, to be able to sign their names into the history books, like Anna May Wong. Hell, Stanley Kubrick inspired Dawson to go to film school.
They inspire people to kill. Apparently.
They inspire people to obsess over the Pitts and Jolies and Clooneys and Brandos and immortalise the James Deans.
In sickness and in health and in marriage and in love and in comedy and in sadness and in hatred and in lust and in agony I shall honour thee cinema.
5 comments:
Wow! you are such a good writer. that was the easiest post to read because it was so well written. I loved your thoughts on cinema and the inspiration people get from it. well done for really writing something that was personal, funny and a great read. I am now going to read your next post and hope its just as good! nanny diaries is good - if you haven't seen it also. But the book is better.
A illuminating anecdote! it could have could have easily been a plot line for an episode of Dawson's Creek, which I spent too many of my teen years watching! (assuming thats what your referencing)
I definately think film's hold an inspiration purpose to some extent, and once again i can see the relevance of Burgin's article (i don't think i can escape from it now like Cornell's images) about how fragments of a film stay with you after the film. I now own the box set for Dawson's Creek and watching again instills nostalgia in me and reminds me of when I first watched a specific episode in my teen years.
A symphony to cinema. Both you and Vanessa write such interesting things about cinema... I like it. Where do you get to watch all these intersting films?
On soundtracks:
I still have rose hobart's strange one in my head.
Piccadilly would have done just fine without one - we know because we watched it in FF.
There are several different versions to watch Man with the Movie Camera to - and each is a profoundly different experience.
And in the absence of any footage at all, as you said, we create our own, in our heads, to the most poignant songs on our iPods.
I like your connection of Solondz and Ozu. They both have a very dry style, which i find makes it quite hard to sit through their feature length films.
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