Creed II - Cinema At First Sight
Thoughts On: Creed II (2018)
Creed's title is disputed by the son of Ivan Drago.
First watches are rather singular experiences - especially when you see a film in a cinema for what is probably going to be the only time. It is tempting to say that this first experience is not an objective one, but this cannot be altogether true. Indeed, a key test for any movie is its ability to be re-watched over time and in various contexts. Through this a more objective look at a film may be derived. But, what can only be objectively experience once and once alone is the formulation of the music that is a new movie. If any kind of cinema is comparable to music, it may be this 'cinema at first sight' for the fact that it uses anticipation as a mechanism rather similarly to its artistic cousin.
The songs we like so often gain value over time - either over long or short periods. I find it to be true that hearing a song for the first time can never be as ecstatic of an experience as hearing it for, say, the hundredth. The first time one hears even a great song, they can most certainly be moved, but there is so often a confusion about this feeling. For music to gain coherence and clarity, it must be listened to with anticipation, listened to time and time again as to become a vessel of escape and adventure. Alas, this, it must be noted, is simply my understanding of things. For someone who likes listening to live, improvisational music that they will never be able to hear again, music may appear to operate a world apart from my description. Nonetheless, my understanding of music and its value transposes onto cinema at first sight.
Narrative has logistic frameworks built within it that make far easier its prediction than music's. These logistic frameworks are embodied by genre - which can be best thought of as those elements of any one work that relate it to another. Composed of archetypal characters, themes, journeys, revelations, actions and more, genre allows the first viewing of a film to be, in a sense, an experience in hearing a genre voiced in a new manner. A new film, especially one easily defined by genre, is then never a new film; it is a re-composition of a film we are already familiar with. The equivocal experience of this in music can be found through the cover song. Music of course has genre that, to some degree, makes each song a re-composition of other similar works, but, the sonic world of music has not the same legibility and coherence or logic and language that narrative does. Such is why new songs, even those clearly emergent from a genre, appear more new upon first contact than a movie can. Alas, the 'knowness' of cinema at first sight is its musical genius and advantage.
A genre film seen for the first time facilitates an experience uniquely composed of predictability and revelation. Music can exist in this sweet spot between being known and unknown for a far longer time than films. The genre film heightens and intensifies this for the very first viewing. Other films operate differently. I find then, for example, that a Tarkovsky film sometimes becomes more evocative and musical with repeat viewings. This is because only with repeat watches can one establish themselves in the optimal zone between knowing and not knowing. In a Tarkovsky film, the distances between these two fields are so vast that re-watches will not see one move from one extreme to another rapidly. It is beginning to move away from the realm of the complete unknown in a Tarkovsky film that sees it start to resonate - this can be in a first watch, maybe a second, maybe a fifth. It must be emphasised, however, that I find the optimal zone to be most evocative on the first watch. If a film can secure its musical dominance in the mind on the first watch, the greatest ecstasy of cinematic experience may be conjured. Of course this cannot be proven scientifically nor stratified, but a first watch has the most lyrosphical potential. You can question this yourself by thinking of your favourite movie - one you repeatedly watch - and consider if there was a viewing, maybe the first, that gave you the most.
We have spoke of lyrosophy at length before. We can understand it today, however, to be that optimal realm between knowing and not knowing; it is in having this experience that we most purely come to experience the feeling of knowledge in a cinema. The first lyrosophical experience with a narrative, it can then be summarised, is the most powerful. Even if one understands a film better on a re-watch, its lyrosophical evocation will not be as strong as if it was understood maximally on the first. It is unfortunate that one may not find lyrosophy in watching a Tarkovsky film for the first time. It is our greatest luck if the movies we love can be loved most when we first see them. Likewise, it is a great shame that movies die in this sense over time; a great resolve if we do come to understand them optimally beyond of the first viewing. Let us not become distracted, however. The lyrosophical experience can recur over re-watches of a film, but I hypothesise that there is a peak experience and that a first viewing is always going to have the greatest potential for being optimally lyrospohically engaged.
To speak further to this, it is best to focus on genre films as these are designed to have the greatest impact on the first watch, an impact that is hopefully sustained to some degree over many other watches; such being the definition of 'classic'. Creed II is the film that is opening my eyes to this phenomena. Very much so a Rocky film, Creed II thrives in its greatest moments because of what you may call its predictability, its genreisms or Rocky-isms. To its benefit, this is more melodramatic than its rather realist predecessor and so operates dramatologically as well as narratively in a musical (which is to say, anticipated) manner. It is knowing of both Rocky IV and being able to predict, but nonetheless emotionally anticipate (be willing to wait; yearn to experience what is promised), all that occurs in Creed II that makes it such an affecting film.
A hero narrative that explores what it means to be required to be the man you ideally could be, Creed II presents a rumination on struggle (quite like the other Rocky films) with great melancholy and tenderness. It sees its hero pushed to the boundaries of his potential, made to face his father, his animus, and realise that what he stares at in a former champion's image is within, before having to translate an emotional battle within to a physical battle in a ring of dire consequences; to live his knowledge. Such is the beauty and potential within the Creed films. They can use the symbolic and semantic legacy of the Rocky series to hold ideals before a 'son' archetype whose core struggle is not figuring out a way, but walking a path walked by many before him.
Whilst so much more could be spoken of here, intrinsic to the translation of these ideas is the first watch; is seeing 'the Rocky film' anew, hearing its song with utmost clarity for the eighth time. So whilst the composition of this song may not be masterful, hearing it for the first time was purely fantastic. Creed II is then a brilliant example of the almost paradoxical phenomena of a first watch. I liked this more than I will probably like it upon re-vistsits. However, I was not blinded or lost in the hype of the film when in the cinema. I was simply exposed to it in its most optimal and prime lyrosophical state. Creed II is made to be experienced for the first time - like so many other genre films of its kind. Like your favourite song is best on the thousandth listen, Creed II is best when seen first. I urge you then to see this and to enjoy it whilst you can.
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End Of The Week Shorts #87
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Creed's title is disputed by the son of Ivan Drago.
First watches are rather singular experiences - especially when you see a film in a cinema for what is probably going to be the only time. It is tempting to say that this first experience is not an objective one, but this cannot be altogether true. Indeed, a key test for any movie is its ability to be re-watched over time and in various contexts. Through this a more objective look at a film may be derived. But, what can only be objectively experience once and once alone is the formulation of the music that is a new movie. If any kind of cinema is comparable to music, it may be this 'cinema at first sight' for the fact that it uses anticipation as a mechanism rather similarly to its artistic cousin.
The songs we like so often gain value over time - either over long or short periods. I find it to be true that hearing a song for the first time can never be as ecstatic of an experience as hearing it for, say, the hundredth. The first time one hears even a great song, they can most certainly be moved, but there is so often a confusion about this feeling. For music to gain coherence and clarity, it must be listened to with anticipation, listened to time and time again as to become a vessel of escape and adventure. Alas, this, it must be noted, is simply my understanding of things. For someone who likes listening to live, improvisational music that they will never be able to hear again, music may appear to operate a world apart from my description. Nonetheless, my understanding of music and its value transposes onto cinema at first sight.
Narrative has logistic frameworks built within it that make far easier its prediction than music's. These logistic frameworks are embodied by genre - which can be best thought of as those elements of any one work that relate it to another. Composed of archetypal characters, themes, journeys, revelations, actions and more, genre allows the first viewing of a film to be, in a sense, an experience in hearing a genre voiced in a new manner. A new film, especially one easily defined by genre, is then never a new film; it is a re-composition of a film we are already familiar with. The equivocal experience of this in music can be found through the cover song. Music of course has genre that, to some degree, makes each song a re-composition of other similar works, but, the sonic world of music has not the same legibility and coherence or logic and language that narrative does. Such is why new songs, even those clearly emergent from a genre, appear more new upon first contact than a movie can. Alas, the 'knowness' of cinema at first sight is its musical genius and advantage.
A genre film seen for the first time facilitates an experience uniquely composed of predictability and revelation. Music can exist in this sweet spot between being known and unknown for a far longer time than films. The genre film heightens and intensifies this for the very first viewing. Other films operate differently. I find then, for example, that a Tarkovsky film sometimes becomes more evocative and musical with repeat viewings. This is because only with repeat watches can one establish themselves in the optimal zone between knowing and not knowing. In a Tarkovsky film, the distances between these two fields are so vast that re-watches will not see one move from one extreme to another rapidly. It is beginning to move away from the realm of the complete unknown in a Tarkovsky film that sees it start to resonate - this can be in a first watch, maybe a second, maybe a fifth. It must be emphasised, however, that I find the optimal zone to be most evocative on the first watch. If a film can secure its musical dominance in the mind on the first watch, the greatest ecstasy of cinematic experience may be conjured. Of course this cannot be proven scientifically nor stratified, but a first watch has the most lyrosphical potential. You can question this yourself by thinking of your favourite movie - one you repeatedly watch - and consider if there was a viewing, maybe the first, that gave you the most.
We have spoke of lyrosophy at length before. We can understand it today, however, to be that optimal realm between knowing and not knowing; it is in having this experience that we most purely come to experience the feeling of knowledge in a cinema. The first lyrosophical experience with a narrative, it can then be summarised, is the most powerful. Even if one understands a film better on a re-watch, its lyrosophical evocation will not be as strong as if it was understood maximally on the first. It is unfortunate that one may not find lyrosophy in watching a Tarkovsky film for the first time. It is our greatest luck if the movies we love can be loved most when we first see them. Likewise, it is a great shame that movies die in this sense over time; a great resolve if we do come to understand them optimally beyond of the first viewing. Let us not become distracted, however. The lyrosophical experience can recur over re-watches of a film, but I hypothesise that there is a peak experience and that a first viewing is always going to have the greatest potential for being optimally lyrospohically engaged.
To speak further to this, it is best to focus on genre films as these are designed to have the greatest impact on the first watch, an impact that is hopefully sustained to some degree over many other watches; such being the definition of 'classic'. Creed II is the film that is opening my eyes to this phenomena. Very much so a Rocky film, Creed II thrives in its greatest moments because of what you may call its predictability, its genreisms or Rocky-isms. To its benefit, this is more melodramatic than its rather realist predecessor and so operates dramatologically as well as narratively in a musical (which is to say, anticipated) manner. It is knowing of both Rocky IV and being able to predict, but nonetheless emotionally anticipate (be willing to wait; yearn to experience what is promised), all that occurs in Creed II that makes it such an affecting film.
A hero narrative that explores what it means to be required to be the man you ideally could be, Creed II presents a rumination on struggle (quite like the other Rocky films) with great melancholy and tenderness. It sees its hero pushed to the boundaries of his potential, made to face his father, his animus, and realise that what he stares at in a former champion's image is within, before having to translate an emotional battle within to a physical battle in a ring of dire consequences; to live his knowledge. Such is the beauty and potential within the Creed films. They can use the symbolic and semantic legacy of the Rocky series to hold ideals before a 'son' archetype whose core struggle is not figuring out a way, but walking a path walked by many before him.
Whilst so much more could be spoken of here, intrinsic to the translation of these ideas is the first watch; is seeing 'the Rocky film' anew, hearing its song with utmost clarity for the eighth time. So whilst the composition of this song may not be masterful, hearing it for the first time was purely fantastic. Creed II is then a brilliant example of the almost paradoxical phenomena of a first watch. I liked this more than I will probably like it upon re-vistsits. However, I was not blinded or lost in the hype of the film when in the cinema. I was simply exposed to it in its most optimal and prime lyrosophical state. Creed II is made to be experienced for the first time - like so many other genre films of its kind. Like your favourite song is best on the thousandth listen, Creed II is best when seen first. I urge you then to see this and to enjoy it whilst you can.
Previous post:
End Of The Week Shorts #87
Next post:
A Virgin Among The Living Dead - Impressi...
More from me:
amazon.com/author/danielslack
