Nah, this isn't an article or interview or head-to-head deathmatch, just another oddly worded title. And the urge to post today comes from a desire to turn this aimless energy into something productive and thoughtful, namely finally getting my thoughts about the first season of "Treme" down so I can move on while also burning off some creative steam. Cool, let's get right to it.
At one point, I had all kinds of insightful things to say about "Treme" that were going to tackle tough questions raised in interviews and other reviews, but they're all long forgotten. So maybe it'd be best to make it super-personal and address that title, which came from my own personal response to basically every episode of this show: "I'm moving to New Orleans. That's all there is to it, I'm [expletive removed, because I'm starting to try and keep it semi-professional] going." But unlike Jules and Amsterdam, it isn't the one thing that's dragging my daydreams towards the idea of a future in New Orleans, it's everything, even the post-massive natural disaster suffering. Okay, that sounds pretty bad, but bear with me: "Treme" is what, to my young and impressionable little brain, the real New Orleans is like, because what better way to see a city through its people dealing with the consequences of a hurricane? Exactly. And that's what I've been getting at: "Treme" is great because of its characters. Well, and some other things too, but the characters are basically the meat and bread of this show. See, unlike "The Wire," a show I'm legally bound to refer to here because we're talking about David Simon, "Treme" doesn't have a super plot-driven story. Now, bear in mind that I'm one of those guys who will tell you that "The Wire" is probably one of the greatest shows in the history of the medium of television (something I fully intend on doing in great length once I finish the 5th season, which is what I'm up to now), and who will stand up and argue that part of what makes that particular show excellent is the detailed cast of characters, their complex morality, their stories and personalities, and how all of that becomes a part of the story. But at the heart of it all, "The Wire" is about the results of the things these characters do; a lot happens in a season, and it's very much about the journey. But not much has happened over the course of this first season of "Treme," activity-wise. People move around, have interactions, do things like go down to Texas or end up in jail, but nobody stages drug sweeps or makes investigations or kills other people (and if they did, I sure as hell wouldn't ruin it here for you). Here's a good comparison: a lot of the first season of "Treme" surrounds people's preparations for Mardi Gras and the outcomes of the things that happen on that day. A lot of the first season of "The Wire" is about trying to bring down a drug ring in West Baltimore through all manner of wiretaps and police work. At the end of the day, "Treme" is about how the characters interact with each other and grow, while "The Wire" is about information and actions, and how this changes other information and other actions.
Glad I've pontificated at extreme length. For those of you not yet alienated, let's move on. The characters are the major draw for "Treme." Almost everyone is written and acted with a warmth and humanity that is instantly winning (I will probably never be able to see Steve Zahn in anything without thinking of Davis, for example). There is humor, there is life, and there is anger; this is a show of emotions, and how they've been stirred by the catastrophe. And what makes everything so winning is that, in spite of some minor theatricality inherent in television, these seem like truly real people, and that in turn makes their lives what real life in New Orleans is like, and because everyone, through their highs and lows, trials and triumphs, etcetera etcetera is so real and full of life, it makes the prospect of living in New Orleans highly appealing, the vivacity of it all. Of course, that may have something to do with the fantastic second line scenes, and the music, and the food, and all that stuff (in our cast of characters we do have a Mardi Gras Indian Chief, a chef and a good number of musicians, so there's a bit of bias). Speaking as a man who's never been down to New Orleans, it seems rather idyllic, even in the throes of recovery. Thus our title: David Simon, for me, has worked as the best advertiser the city could ever dream of.
But I'm drifting way off target. I pretty much said it all in the comparison paragraph: "Treme" is one of the warmest and most optimistically human ("The Wire" can be kind of tough-realty bleak, and I hear similar things about "Generation Kill") David Simon productions around, quite accessible and a true pleasure to watch. It does polemicize about the infuriating ignorance the rest of the nation chose to send down Louisiana way, and there are some truly downer moments, but it's all part of the cliched rich pageant of life. And all the little things are just right- jokes, good musical interludes (that actually progress the story!), cool images, and wonderful, wonderful relationships that build and mature in odd and pleasing ways. I think episode eight was probably the single most joyous piece of television that I can remember watching, ever. Bottom line: way to go David Simon, you have succeeded in making a show about life in a special place at a critical time that doesn't feel exploitative or fake in any way. "The Wire" still earns my vote for the best ever television show, but it's like comparing "The Big Lebowski" and "Chinatown." One is a masterpiece of American cinema that tells a tough story, an the other is a masterpiece of wonder and joy. This has become a little overwrought in its praises, so I'll end things for real now.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Graffiti Is Harder Than It Looks
It's been quite a while now since I saw the Banksy movie ("Exit Through The Gift Shop" if we want to use correct titles today), so here's hoping I can pull some coherent thoughts together on a movie that's left most every theater by this point. Problem is, I don't quite know where to begin: it was an immensely pleasing documentary, but a documentary in the Banksy style where you aren't even sure what's right and what's wrong. If we assume that the mysterious hooded and voice-altered figure really is Banksy and that all the other characters really are who they're supposed to be (although it is tempting to believe other things, but my mid-film hand analysis proved Banksy and Mr. Brainwash, your as-of-yet-unintroduced title character, to be separate people, and besides, does it make any difference whether these people are who they say they are?), then the movie reads as the story of street art, as told from the perspective of Thierry, a French dude living in Los Angeles. Thierry gets involved in the scene back in France through a street artist cousin who later introduces him to other prominent artists in Europe and America, eventually leading to Banksy himself. The conceit that leads to the movie, though, is that Thierry is an obsessive videographer, meaning that while running around at night with these dudes putting up graffiti he was also filming (awkward sentence construction). This leads to an astounding wealth of raw footage chronicling the birth of a scene, footage that Banksy ends up turning into a movie when Thierry proves himself unfit to direct by creating an unwatchable and seizure-inducing attempt at film. As Banksy takes control, he tells Thierry to go try his hand at being an artist; thus Mr. Brainwash was born.
This is where things switch tone. Up until this point, Thierry was our anchor, the man who was figuring out this complicated world of street art with us, a friend. But the film always had a kind of distant attitude towards him, and right about when he introduces his version of the movie things get a bit nasty. After all, everything previous had been pretty much objective, what with Thierry figuring out the world of street art, and talking head bits with Banksy and other dudes like Shepard Fairey served to back up everything that he was observing. But once Thierry started producing art, subjective stuff, it was time for the big voices of the street art world to speak up, and their voices are less than favorable. I won't really get into the specifics, as that would spoil the meat of the movie for you guys, but the bottom line is that Thierry/Mr. Brain Wash, his street art persona, are less than successful. In fact, I'd go so far to say that Mr. BW is basically a reflection of most things that are wrong with the creative world today: his work is derivative, he hires others to produce it, he lacks a real reason to create street art beyond the desire to emulate and achieve success, and his only strong skill seems to be self-marketing, which leads to a great series of interviews with the Los Angeles public talking about how they think Mr. BW is awesome, even though he clearly is not and they clearly have no idea what he's all about. Hype! It's so cool.
Banksy comes out with a line around this point in the film, something like, "I used to tell everyone they should make art, but then I met Thierry. I don't tell that to everyone anymore." And I guess that'd be one of the major themes of this movie, a cautionary tale about how to go about creating art. On the one hand, sounds like the man is saying that Real Art is for the pros, so piss off. But in fact, when you look at that statement with the rest of the first half of the movie, talking about the rise of the movement and all that, it seems to be more of a "be real with your art" message. Mr. BW's problem isn't the impulse to create art, it's his intentions and motivations. His work is empty, shallow, commercial. Basically everyone else's art has a bit of spiritual flair, be it anti-authoritarian mischief, cutting social commentary, or just something cool displayed ephemerally in the public world. I think what the ambassador meant to say was that everyone should still create art, but they should do it on their own terms and for themselves. If you hone your craft and develop a weltanschauung (just wanted to use the word), then possibly fame and gallery shows will follow, but by that point it won't really matter, 'cause the art will be something that you do for yourself and for it's own artistic sake, and will thusly remain untainted. I suppose there's some more in there about the nature of public consumption of art (we like it pre-hyped and marketable, presented in a big gallery party so we can be seen enjoying it), and the bits about the origins of the scene are almost straight documentary, but that's about all I've got for direct themes.
Indirectly, there's some weirdness about the ethics of what Banksy did. Because let's face it, he took Thierry's footage and then made a movie about what a tool Thierry is, and might possibly be prospering. But this falls back into the category of Weird Things That One Could Think About Too Much, like the accuracy of any of the history of the movement stuff, whether it's really Banksy, what he's getting at by producing a movie like this (teasing us, defying the public to unmask him?), and even whether Thierry is just a character. The mind reels though, so it's safe to leave it as possibly troublesome but only mildly uncomfortable while watching Banksy rip on our filmmaker. Thing is, that ripping is really funny; the whole movie is really funny. And the editing, music, and all those other stylistic things are also slick and super-cool, as befitting a hip street artist's movie. It's a real pleasure to watch, and despite Banksy's admonitions inspiring. Perhaps the best way to breed the next generation of graffiti artists is to show them how it isn't done.
Next on my writing agenda: thoughts on the end of "Treme," and possibly a movie to come in the next week. I really just end with these to remind myself of what I ought to be doing.
This is where things switch tone. Up until this point, Thierry was our anchor, the man who was figuring out this complicated world of street art with us, a friend. But the film always had a kind of distant attitude towards him, and right about when he introduces his version of the movie things get a bit nasty. After all, everything previous had been pretty much objective, what with Thierry figuring out the world of street art, and talking head bits with Banksy and other dudes like Shepard Fairey served to back up everything that he was observing. But once Thierry started producing art, subjective stuff, it was time for the big voices of the street art world to speak up, and their voices are less than favorable. I won't really get into the specifics, as that would spoil the meat of the movie for you guys, but the bottom line is that Thierry/Mr. Brain Wash, his street art persona, are less than successful. In fact, I'd go so far to say that Mr. BW is basically a reflection of most things that are wrong with the creative world today: his work is derivative, he hires others to produce it, he lacks a real reason to create street art beyond the desire to emulate and achieve success, and his only strong skill seems to be self-marketing, which leads to a great series of interviews with the Los Angeles public talking about how they think Mr. BW is awesome, even though he clearly is not and they clearly have no idea what he's all about. Hype! It's so cool.
Banksy comes out with a line around this point in the film, something like, "I used to tell everyone they should make art, but then I met Thierry. I don't tell that to everyone anymore." And I guess that'd be one of the major themes of this movie, a cautionary tale about how to go about creating art. On the one hand, sounds like the man is saying that Real Art is for the pros, so piss off. But in fact, when you look at that statement with the rest of the first half of the movie, talking about the rise of the movement and all that, it seems to be more of a "be real with your art" message. Mr. BW's problem isn't the impulse to create art, it's his intentions and motivations. His work is empty, shallow, commercial. Basically everyone else's art has a bit of spiritual flair, be it anti-authoritarian mischief, cutting social commentary, or just something cool displayed ephemerally in the public world. I think what the ambassador meant to say was that everyone should still create art, but they should do it on their own terms and for themselves. If you hone your craft and develop a weltanschauung (just wanted to use the word), then possibly fame and gallery shows will follow, but by that point it won't really matter, 'cause the art will be something that you do for yourself and for it's own artistic sake, and will thusly remain untainted. I suppose there's some more in there about the nature of public consumption of art (we like it pre-hyped and marketable, presented in a big gallery party so we can be seen enjoying it), and the bits about the origins of the scene are almost straight documentary, but that's about all I've got for direct themes.
Indirectly, there's some weirdness about the ethics of what Banksy did. Because let's face it, he took Thierry's footage and then made a movie about what a tool Thierry is, and might possibly be prospering. But this falls back into the category of Weird Things That One Could Think About Too Much, like the accuracy of any of the history of the movement stuff, whether it's really Banksy, what he's getting at by producing a movie like this (teasing us, defying the public to unmask him?), and even whether Thierry is just a character. The mind reels though, so it's safe to leave it as possibly troublesome but only mildly uncomfortable while watching Banksy rip on our filmmaker. Thing is, that ripping is really funny; the whole movie is really funny. And the editing, music, and all those other stylistic things are also slick and super-cool, as befitting a hip street artist's movie. It's a real pleasure to watch, and despite Banksy's admonitions inspiring. Perhaps the best way to breed the next generation of graffiti artists is to show them how it isn't done.
Next on my writing agenda: thoughts on the end of "Treme," and possibly a movie to come in the next week. I really just end with these to remind myself of what I ought to be doing.
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