It was like watching a Michael Bay movie, but only completely opposite in every sense.

Last night I went to a poetry slam that a friend of a friend organized. This was a new experience, to say the least. I heard this type of poetry before, but not often. Purdue does not exactly foster the type of environment in which these contests occur. Come to think of it, Indiana doesn't really foster that type of environment. Or most of the Midwest. On my way there, I was a bit apprehensive because I thought that I would stick out as what these kids today call "n00bs." Fortunately it seemed most in the crowd had never been to a slam before, and were just as curious as I was. The slam worked by groups of spectators would rate each poet, hold up their rating on a board, and the average score was worked out.

My group wanted to give every poet and every poem a 10, almost every single time. I may not know much about slams, but I do know poetry. The poets there were some of the best of the south, so all of them of course were going to be good. The ability of the poet to "move you" was not in question. How well each was at delivery, uniqueness, cleverness, honesty, form, rhythm, these factors had to be thought of before rating each poem. Most of the group, however, either didn't want to rate them at all (the "how can I rate someone's heart and sou?" argument--they want to be rated or they wouldn't be on stage), or had decided that a rating could only be based on emotional response.

On the way home, the experience made me start to think of how one should balance the feeling an artwork evokes in you, and its technical prowess. Just how does one regard art? Should one be rated more than the other? Does a truly great work have to have a balance of both? Or can something shine because it has such a profuse amount of one factor?

I have always been pleased with the AFI's Top 100 Films list. While I may not agree with all the selections on it, the list does a remarkable job of including some films that are probably only on there due to the technical feats it accomplished (ie Star Wars), while others are on there probably due to just the welling of emotions one gets while watching the film (Mr. Smith Goes to Washington). The top of that list, however, is reserved for those brilliant films that serve as an outstanding example of all those ways in which a work of art can shine.** The #1 film is Citizen Kane. It took me awhile to understand why this was so. The first time I watched it I realized it certainly was a good film, but a great film? I had trouble seeing it. Slowly though, I began to realize just how well put together the film was technically. Every aspect of the mis en scene serves to underscore the narrative. Not only did Orwell perfect lighting techniques, camera spanning (has anyone done it better since?), and invented new editing styles, he pushed these to new heights, some of which have yet to be reached again. Whenever a friend asks why I like the film so much, I have trouble explaining just how great Orwell's directing is. Part of the reason is that these techniques that were brand new in the film, have been used so often in the following 67 years that they no longer seem new--just a matter of course.

I realized on the ride home, that in admiring this film on its technical merits, an injustice is done by ignoring the way almost every actor played his or her part to the fullest. Orwell himself was the greatest in the film--he never was able to reach this acting height again. Watch his eyes in the film! Almost every emotion a man can have is played out just in his eyes. When needed, Orwell stripped the film of fancy camera and lighting work; he simplified the all that riff-raff to allow the characters to shine.

I've posted my favorite scene below. The scene takes place soon after Kane has acquired his inherited fortune, and has taken over the Inquirer newspaper. He is in the process of transforming it. Like the title character, the newspaper has an ambiguous identity. Half of it is an earnest journalistic endeavour, meant to bring out a truth that the other newspapers have been ignoring. The other half is an ugly rag, inventing yellow journalism, and being anything but honest. In this scene, however, Kane has yet to fall from grace (a fall that is as magnificent as Macbeth), and all of his noble ambition is laid out for all to see. His fall is more wrenching than his rise is delightful, but every time I see this scene, I hope that maybe this time Kane won't betray himself.





On a completely different subject, I'm not the only one taking the zombie invasion threat seriously. I hope the two candidates read this article:

http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read/2783/how-would-the-u-s-military-fight-attack-by-a-zombie-army


**The exception to this is Singing in the Rain. Seriously, WTF AFI? This film is a fine, entertaining flick, but top 10?! The acting is nothing but average, the narrative was created to fit the songs, not the other way around, and the songs themselves were half plagiarized! The only decent thing about this movie was its editing and stage effects. Like hell that makes it belong in the top 10.