Midnight In Paris - Egoic Film
Quick Thoughts: Midnight in Paris (2011)
A meandering romantic lost in dreams of Paris in the 1920s falls into fantasy.
There is a naivety and courage in being yourself. But, if the truth be presented truly truthfully, then it can but affect.
Woody Allen's cinema, what little I know of it, is fuelled most evidently by the man's ego. More so than most auteurs, Allen is an egoist - maybe as much as Tarantino, von Trier and Godard are. Egoism on film, in art generally, is fascinating and equally prevalent. If art is communication, the artist speaks to an audience in the dark; a darkness that sometimes has a highly mirror-like sheen. At least this is what one reads from the cinema and films of the mentioned directors. There is something impossibly endearing and wondrous about certain forms of egoism. The intellectualism of Godard is sickening at times; the pseudo-cine-intellectualism of Tarantino incredibly grating; the grimy self-absorption of von Trier gag-worthy; and the neuroticism of Allen tiresome. Alas, these filmmakers are adored as they are despised. Maybe it is the egoism of the audience member that resonates with that of a given auteur. Yet, I believe there is something of greater subtlety occurring.
One can witness this in Midnight in Paris. Midnight in Paris is a minor melodrama. What the melodramatic form does so well is express truths felt with unabashed unreservedness--which is to say, they fail to embarrass themselves with their truth. Speaking as himself, with much ego, Allen somehow doesn't embarrassing himself. Such is true of his main character, cast and played well by Owen Wilson. He whisper-waxes poetic with romantic cliche after cliche without reserve, without embarrassment, without pretence. Earnest one can be if their pretence emerges from a place of truth--a paradox that Midnight in Paris revels in. This idea resonates up through theme and character from the very ego and personality of the man that penned them. This is a pervasive element of Midnight in Paris' cinematic space. It operates on the basis of honesty that challenges the viewer to do away with cynicism - indeed, this is what much melodrama does. Such is what makes this a triumphant, though minor and not particularly brilliant, film. It understands its own naivety and is subtly courageous in doing so.
Previous post:
Logos & Pneuma Pt. 1
More from me:
amazon.com/author/danielslack
A meandering romantic lost in dreams of Paris in the 1920s falls into fantasy.
There is a naivety and courage in being yourself. But, if the truth be presented truly truthfully, then it can but affect.
Woody Allen's cinema, what little I know of it, is fuelled most evidently by the man's ego. More so than most auteurs, Allen is an egoist - maybe as much as Tarantino, von Trier and Godard are. Egoism on film, in art generally, is fascinating and equally prevalent. If art is communication, the artist speaks to an audience in the dark; a darkness that sometimes has a highly mirror-like sheen. At least this is what one reads from the cinema and films of the mentioned directors. There is something impossibly endearing and wondrous about certain forms of egoism. The intellectualism of Godard is sickening at times; the pseudo-cine-intellectualism of Tarantino incredibly grating; the grimy self-absorption of von Trier gag-worthy; and the neuroticism of Allen tiresome. Alas, these filmmakers are adored as they are despised. Maybe it is the egoism of the audience member that resonates with that of a given auteur. Yet, I believe there is something of greater subtlety occurring.
One can witness this in Midnight in Paris. Midnight in Paris is a minor melodrama. What the melodramatic form does so well is express truths felt with unabashed unreservedness--which is to say, they fail to embarrass themselves with their truth. Speaking as himself, with much ego, Allen somehow doesn't embarrassing himself. Such is true of his main character, cast and played well by Owen Wilson. He whisper-waxes poetic with romantic cliche after cliche without reserve, without embarrassment, without pretence. Earnest one can be if their pretence emerges from a place of truth--a paradox that Midnight in Paris revels in. This idea resonates up through theme and character from the very ego and personality of the man that penned them. This is a pervasive element of Midnight in Paris' cinematic space. It operates on the basis of honesty that challenges the viewer to do away with cynicism - indeed, this is what much melodrama does. Such is what makes this a triumphant, though minor and not particularly brilliant, film. It understands its own naivety and is subtly courageous in doing so.
Previous post:
Logos & Pneuma Pt. 1
More from me:
amazon.com/author/danielslack
