Buffering Through Reality

“Midnight in Paris” has one main argument: In our mind the ideals of the past are more desirable and whimsical then the reality we live in, BUT that’s where we live and that’s what we must accept. Owen Wilson’s character, Gil, yearns to live back in the 1920’s Paris, when the golden age of literature ruled. Its these ideas that drive Gil’s psychology. He proceeds to go back in time, but never really relishes in the present Paris he lives in. By the end of the movie Gil realizes that although the past is a mythical fantasy, it is just that; a fantasy. People always have this urge to relish in the past as a way to make the present accommodating. It’s this dream-like mindset that propels people in an overwhelmingly unnecessary acceptance of all things nostalgic. “Midnight in Paris” has now become the ultimate argument against the popular film “The Artist”.

Nothing about “The Artist” is new. In fact, that’s the point. Its explores the quintessential image of 1920’s Hollywood. Even shooting with the same “white glow”, “The Artist” hinges on the image in the audiences mind of that they think 1920’s Hollywood was. Without that image “The Artist” is absolutely nothing.

This is why “The Artist” will win best picture at the academy awards.  If there is one thing about Hollywood, its that it loves itself. Self referential movies directed by the actors who lived them are always in production. Someone is always skewering  some part of the Hollywood mainstay. “The Artist” celebrates a golden age of cinema, really just the beginning of what would turn into the most popular(and most profitable) art form of all time. People in La La land are oozing with joy over this film, but what they are really doing is trying to pretend that’s what they do; That they are part of this golden age, when people danced in studios and dogs were stars among men. Hollywood feels the same exact way that Gil felt when visiting Paris: “I wish I was there”

Woody Allen is retroactively calling out Hollywood with his film. Sure ,“Midnight in Paris” did come out before “The Artist” but pieces of art will mean different things to different people at different times. With the surge of CGI and the overwhelmingly awful superficiality that comes with modern day Hollywood, most filmmakers wish they could go back to the 1920s and just make a movie that entertains.

But they can’t. Its over. Move on.

“Midnight in Paris” is the movie that will make you love the past, but accept the present. Where as “The Artist” won’t let you leave. It makes you need the past, and rely on it just to get through the every day mundaneness of what’s happening now. I did like “The Artist”, and by all means it is a great film, But for my money the story that we all can relate to is “Midnight in Paris”. Black and white is great, but nothing will beat walking in the rain.

The weird “inbetween” where doing something is a strain and doing nothing is a bore. I don’t know how else to put it, but if there was something I could be doing right now I would be doing it, but because there is no goal, no real reason for any of it, I just sit here. Each day is like a movie I have seen over and over again except with different dialogue. One of my roommates sits at the kitchen table, the other in his red chair and I on the recliner. Same routine each day. Some make eggs, the others make sandwiches.  This is repeated day in and day out. We research the useless information that will help us in the occasional debate about movies or TV, but since we all look at the same websites all the information is already known. There a
 
There is so much happeneing around me that I am clueless about. Maybe that’s because I don’t want to know. Maybe its because If I try and find out I know that I’ll still be powerless to do anything about it. In the end I will be stuck in the same recliner just wishing that I could do something I can’t.
 
I need a goal, a task. I need to actually decide and do it too. Remember that screenplay I was going to write three years ago. Remember that diet I decided to start in august. I remember all the goals I have set, and have yet to reach many of them. Boredom is the main reason for most failed ambitions. Its a more powerful addiction then any drug. Once you have descended into that nothingness of relaxation you can’t leave. And If you try and leave you can only think about the nothing you could be doing.

These are my ramblings. My thoughts. And I’m stuck with them.

I’ve never really been much of a writer.

Ever since I can remember I have been more of a oral storyteller, using my hands and voice as tools rather then a pen and paper. But over the past few months I have noticed the the power of the written word. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a new idea that just popped into my head. But I have taken notice of the amount of power the written word has nowadays, more so then ever. It isn’t  the language that has changed, but the excess of its use.

More and more I have seen people blogging and presenting their thoughts for the general public. It doesn’t matter if they have four readers or forty million, these people are letting their thoughts out there. For some it is a very personal story and for others its just another day at the office. For me, I just want to get better. I may not be the best writer but I am damn well going to try and become a better one. So don’t read this blog or tumblr or whatever this is excepting shakespearean insight or Aaron Sorkin dialogue that snaps off the page. Read this blog to get some information, have some fun, and follow me through my personal journey through life in all of its shapes and forms.

I want your input.  I wanna know how I can improve, what I should watch or skip, but most importantly what you all what think. Right or wrong, add to the discussion and become part of the blog. Thanks for reading this little intro. If your enjoying yourself and you have that urge for more “Dave” then you can handle you can follow me on twitter at TheDCFiles. Thanks guys and lets have some fun. 

I AM A TUMBLIN’