Tuesday, 1 June 2010

Forrest Gump - What Does Normal Mean Anyway?

Forrest Gump is one of those rare films that truly captured the imagination of the world. You can never predict when a film is going to do such a thing, nor would you really want to. Producers are always putting the 'elements' together; big stars, directors with track records, and safe storylines. With Forrest Gump - you get the feeling that wasn't the case. And even if it was; the success of the film and effect it has had on the world could never have been planned, or expected. To realize just how much of an effect the film has had-- go to a busy place right now and, after a few moments-- start running. You will undoubtedly hear, "run Forrest, run!". As anyone who likes to go running will confirm, this is not a rare occurrence.
So what is so special about Forrest Gump? I feel an important place to start, when looking at Forrest Gump the movie, is to look at Forrest Gump, the character. To just say "he's simple," is to make a huge mistake. Within this simpleness there's a man who has strong morals, unyielding loyalty, and a heart of gold. What is striking about Gump is how he is void of prejudice and judgement of those he loves. Throughout his life he accepts Jenny for who she is. Often, through not knowing or understanding the predicaments she is in, but also because-- he sees past them. Likewise, his admiration and respect for Lieutenant Dan doesn't change after he becomes disabled. The film touches upon issues of race, throughout-- but with Forrest and his friend Bubba, it isn't a factor. So much so that when Lieutenant Dan asks them, "Are you twins?" -- Forrest's "We are not relations, Sir" is said without irony. For Gump, the reason why it's obvious they're not Brothers is because they're not related, not because one's black and one is white.
Diversity is a big theme throughout the film. Not only with race; but even around the subject of disability, both mentality and physically. Lieutenant Dan is often angry at Forrest Gump, but never because of his IQ. One of the most profound moments of the film is when Dan and Gump take two girls up to their room; and Lieutenant Dan kicks the girls out the moment they insinuate Forrest is "stupid." It's profound because, we realize, the beef that the Lieutenant has with his friend is not based on his 'simpleness' or any of his character flaws; but merely, the complexity of the fact that Dan felt it was his destiny to die in battle, like all of his family - and of course Forrest was the one who stopped him from doing so, by saving him and leaving him crippled.

If Forrest is simple, and all of us with the privilege of fully functioning minds are the 'normal' and complex ones-- then it seems that what Forrest is lacking is the prejudice and hate that most of us carry around day to day. Like, for example, the student who is angry that they're letting 'coons' into the school, or the peace activist whose peace doesn't extend to Jenny, who he happily beats when he feels like it.
I've read and heard many thoughts on the film before, where people have talked about how Forrest stumbles from opportunity to opportunity, through sheer luck. This is true, to an extent, but it's not the whole story. For example, it was sheer luck, or perhaps misfortune, that a man from the army handed him a leaflet-- but it wasn't luck that Forrest went back and saved all his comrades, or that he was consistently loyal to Lieutenant Dan. It's not all luck, it's not all chance. This is the beauty and complexity of the film--- the linking themes of chance and luck, mixed with the destiny you hold in your own hands.
"I don't know if Momma was right or if it's Lieutenant Dan. I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floating around accidental-like on a breeze... But I think maybe it's both... Maybe both is happening at the same time."
-Forrest Gump

We can never really know why films connect the way they do. If someone could figure it out, then they'd be making magical films every single day. One thing we can be sure of - is that is certainly not happening. With Forrest Gump - one thing is for sure; there is a certain magic to it. A mix of talent and luck and accident; something came floating along the ether and landed in this film. You could analyze it to death and you would still miss something, because it has a magic within it that can't be named or labelled.

But there are things we can know by watching it. Forrest Gump, for all his simplicity, is really the type of person we all want to be. Someone who can see the finer things in life, someone whose preoccupations are friendship, love, and life. We'd all like to go for a run on a whim, or start up a shrimping business purely because we promised it to an old friend. Forrest lives the life few of us dare to. Whatever our excuses; be they work, life, family, lack of money, disability-- Forrest doesn't have them. With his last dime, he bought a shrimping boat. At a time when he could have focused on earning more billions, he instead decided to cut grass simply because he liked doing it so much. He makes life look easy, by making the difficult decision to do what he says he's going to do, when he says he's going to do it. And whilst most of us would agonize and analyze over why we do or don't do a thing, Forrest just gets on with it.

VARIOUS REPORTERS
Why are you running? Are you doing this for world peace? For the homeless? Are you running for women's rights? The environment? Why are you doing this?

FORREST
I just felt like running.


The most incredible parts of the film are the extremely tender, personal moments-- moments where there is suddenly an overwhelming, yet not over the top, sense of emotion. I can't think of many films that have achieved this in such a subtle way. And this is where those 'elements' really earned their money--- the expert direction of Robert Zemeckis, the beautiful music of Alan Sylvestri and the genius of Tom Hanks.

An example of this is when Forrest visits Jenny, and finds out he has a son. Forrest steps back, almost losing his balance. The way Tom Hanks handles this is impeccable. Whilst his performance might be memorable for more obvious moments, his acting in this scene shows why he deserved his Oscar. As Forrest stumbles over the question that scares him so much, "But, is-- is he smart? or is he..." - Hanks' is able to say so much, by doing so little. His body language, the awkwardness in his eyes and the way his tone of voice changes--- he brings a truthfulness and a vulnerability to the moment which is so rare in movies, but is essentially why most of us keep watching them (in my website header I say I am looking for a piece of me staring back at me, it's moments like this I'm referring to). You can't write these moments, you can't even really direct them and you can't purposefully act them. You can just get the right people involved, in the right place, at the right time; and if you're lucky, you get magic like this. (Skip to 2min 50sec if you want to get straight to what I'm talking about.)

Back to my original question - why is Forrest Gump such a special film? I really don't know. But it is. The movie takes us through some of the most iconic moments of recent American and World history, and touches upon difficult topics such as war, race, sexual abuse and a whole seas of prejudices. If the film teaches us anything it's perhaps that history is not a static thing. It plays out differently depending on the perspective it's seen from. And looking at the journey of Forrest Gump, it reminds us that we are present in the world. We can make a difference. And maybe simplicity, kindness, love and courage are the important things after all.
"My Mama always told me, that miracles happen every day. Some people don't think so, but they do."
-Forrest Gump

Care to share?

Monday, 31 May 2010

Are you famous yet?

I am compiling a complete list of oppressive/ignorant/hurtful/difficult questions that people ask, and once we have all the questions, we can decide on the right answers. I'll get started; let me know more questions in the comments section..

Are you famous yet?
Why are you still working here?
What if you don't make it?
Are you talented enough?
Have I seen you in anything?
Are you rich yet?
Any progress with your films yet?
Are you still trying to make films?
Did you hear about that guy who made a film for $1 and got into Cannes? Have you thought of doing that?
Do you want to hear my idea about a a Sci-Fi film about the devil and death and life and vampires and good versus evil where the devil plays chess and did you know my idea is totally amazing and original?
Why don't you get a real job?
Have you ever thought about making a film that people actually want to watch?

These type of questions are often asked in an innocent way, and are not consciously meant to upset or belittle; but quite often, they do. I have talked to many actors, even quite successful ones who get stumped by the question, "Have I seen you in anything?". The subtext of the question is actually "Well what have you acted in then? Have you made it? Are you earning money?". It's not as friendly as it first appears.

A couple of years ago; I was a producer on a feature film. We had no money, no time; we had nothing at all really. But we did it. A giant achievement. And I remember going for a meal with my friends the day after shooting-- absolutely drained and tired from the hectic two week, 14 hour a day shoot -- and, my friends had decided to have a 'what are you doing with your life?' day. And they hit me with the questions--- and I was absolutely flattened, despite the fact I had just achieved something monumental.

Part of getting experience and succeeding in the industry, and with yourself; is not being oppressed or angered by the questions, the insults, the accusations; etc. I am quite good at this now, but some still irk me from time to time. Anyways, I'd like to build a full list of these types of questions, and then we can look to find the right answers.

This should be fun!

Care to share?

Saturday, 29 May 2010

Loving What You Love And That Being Enough.

I've been really getting into Spike Lee films recently. I never used to be such a big fan, I don't think I was ready. I needed to find my way there. In recent times, I've felt a real yearning for something more from my cinema. Something more meaningful and powerful and influential -- I found it -- I found it by discovering (properly) the work of Spike Lee.

I'm loving his films. Fully engaged in all of them--- enjoying them more than any other films in a LONG TIME. And the best part about it? I really have nothing to say about them. They raise interesting questions when I watch them, and I find them often powerful, always entertaining--- but in terms of blogging here, I have NOTHING.

And it's got me thinking about that very thing-- about how we're always expected to justify and explain the things we love. When you meet someone and say "Actually, I loved Jumanji!," you're expected to explain it, to justify it. We don't ever get to just love films, we have to talk about the reasons. This is a normal thing in life but also, of course-- a self-imposed thing when you become a blogger. You don't let yourself watch or read too much without the inner voice saying "hmm, there must be a blog in this..."

Thinking right back to the beginnings of my love for cinema, and even TV; I used to just love stuff without talking about it. I would stay up and watch episodes of 'Steptoe & Son' on BBC2, I'd laugh hysterically, then it'd be time for bed. Just like when I would order as many Tom Hanks films on VHS as I could find; watch them, love them, then carry on with normal life (making my friends laugh and being ignored by girls and having friends laugh because I was being ignored by girls). They were magic times. Back then, enjoying films was easier. I just enjoyed them. It was my thing. As you become more open with your passions and begin to speak up for them, they kind of become everyone's. Or at least that's how it feels.

I don't entirely know what I'm talking about--- but that's kind of what I'm talking about, that it's okay, who says you need to know what you're talking about anyway? Who cares why you love something or why someone doesn't?

I think we often feel like we need to know why we like something, or why we think it's good. I have, in the past, felt a bit silly for not knowing why I like the films I like, or why a particular director is one of my favorites. It often feels like other people can say "Yes, his style is revolutionary and the tone of his films are influenced by Renoir with a hint of Godard; and his early work is reminiscent of 17th Century elephants which are themselves, of course, symbolic of the thriller genre." But for me, meh-- despite being a writer, director and persistent blogger; I haven't got a clue most of the time. In fact, I hardly even remember the films I love the most. I'll tell someone I love, say, Jerry Maguire, and they'll ramble on about a scene I have no recollection of.

I take in films differently. My style/way/dysfunction is that -- I get engrossed, and then I drop a lot of the info. I forget who did what, and where, and how-- if we both see a new movie and then tomorrow night talk about it, when you mention the scene about the scarecrow or whatever, I'll have no clue what you're talking about.

What I am comfortable with now is: knowing that this is completely fine. It's great that some people leave a movie knowing all the plot points or having thoughts about the intricacy of the Mise-En-Scene. For me, all I am left with is either a feeling of having enjoyed the film, or having disliked it--- and possibly having some other emotion attached to it. That's who I am - that's how I take in movies.

What I'm getting at, I think, although I'm not really sure--- is that, there's no rule that you have to be able to justify why something is good, nor does it matter if you don't remember the scene with the snake, and also -- we all value different things. It is often perceived, and/or can feel like you are less than if you can't quantify or explain something. I say: it isn't important, at all.

I remember when I was younger, I was working in a job-- not industry related.. and my boss told someone I'm a filmmaker. The woman he told came up to me and started talking about my filmic aspirations. It was all very pleasant until she said, pointedly, "Why do you want to make films?" and told me that if I couldn't answer, I'd never be a film director. I tried about sixteen times to answer-- each time she wasn't convinced, and neither was I. I couldn't explain it. I went home feeling like a complete failure, no wonder I was working in such a shit job. Of course, the realization came much later that I absolutely love films; watching and making them; and the fact I couldn't put it into words didn't matter. I put my screenplays into words, that's all that matters. Oppressive people trying to make me feel useless really aren't part of my journey. My lack of an explanation may have made that grumpy, wrinkly lady feel good for about seven minutes; but I have gone on to make films, she's gone on to terrorize more young people with big dreams. I'd rather be me.

Let's take some time to get back to loving what we love! And being happy in the knowledge that even if we find it hard to explain sometimes, that's fine, who says it needs to be explained, or make sense. This isn't an application for a grant, this isn't a police statement, it's the things we love -- it's art, it's life, it's the movies. It's you and me. It needs no explanation.

Care to share?

RIP Dennis Hopper 1936 - 2010

Dennis Hopper passed away today, losing his long battle with cancer.

Easy Rider, Apocalypse Now, True Romance, Hoosiers, Speed - to name but a few. The sad fact that we'd all like to avoid is that even actors die. If we're lucky, we're left with a wonderful legacy of performances. For eternity, the world gets to see a part of someone live on forever. With Dennis Hopper, that will definitely be true. I can think of nothing better when someone passes away. RIP.

Care to share?

Is Film School Worth It? Is It Necessary?

If anyone says that you must go to film school, they're wrong. If anyone says you must definitely not go, they are also wrong. There is no right answer. The one thing that matters is that you continually learn and study, and that means different things to different people. Some people learn best by listening to lecturers talk about symbolism, some people learn best by watching Spike Lee films in their bedrooms. Some people learn technical stuff by enrolling in a course, some people learn by volunteering on a film set and saying 'hey, can you show me how you do that technical stuff?'
A few years back I was a camera assistant on a horror film being shot in Ealing Studios. The crew were ALL film school friends. Apart from me. But the fact is: I was still there. Also, ever since I began making short films I've had film school graduates applying to be helpers on my short films, because they struggle to find good work experience. They were qualified filmmakers, my only qualification was when I passed a cycling proficiency test, aged 9. My point is: go to film school or don't go to film school, both are wrong, both are right.

I think that three of the most important things are confidence, knowledge and experience. My knowledge comes from in depth studying of cinema, from pretty much every single day of my life since I was 13, and from producing my own films ever since I was 16. It doesn't come from the classroom. Other people get great knowledge from fascinating film school lectures. Neither are correct, they're just different. Most film school grads I know have great knowledge and know wonderfully complex things I'm clueless about. But that's the good thing about doing it my own way, I set my own studying agenda. I know a Morgan Freeman glance or a Woody Allen line or a Billy Wilder moment better than anyone I know. They don't teach you that. They can't teach you the little tiny moments that excite you about movies. They're your own.

Experience is important. I spent years struggling to understand actors, dealing with ruined locations, fumbling over bad dialogue and being stopped by police for having no permission--- all this came from making short films in my teens without having a clue what to do. Now I'm at the point where I'm fearless come the shoot. I can do it. No problem. That's experience. That's my journey.

However, film school offers wider experiences; the chance to try different equipment, collaborate and build relationships with like-minded people-- and a chance to focus on technical proficiency of the craft. When people come out of film school, they know the names of cameras and they know the shortcut buttons on Final Cut Pro. That's experience.

Confidence is, for me, the main one. When you have the choice of film school, or the industry, or dedicating your life to packing groceries: it really comes down to confidence. If you think film school will make you a confident filmmaker, then that's probably the right place for you. If you think you need to get out there and find your way, then maybe you should. If you think you're ready to produce and direct right now, if you have that confidence, go for it.

There are many people who act confident or display confidence. That's not what I'm talking about... There are directors who act like big shots but get scared on film sets and there are actors who stroll around breezily but deep down are crippled by fears of inferiority... by confident; I mean Spielberg marching into Universal Studios and demanding work, I mean Will Smith constantly determined and certain of his greatness, I mean Chaplin taking to the stage aged 5 and mesmerizing the audience. Those people don't need a syllabus, modules and tutoring, they need to express themselves immediately. If you have unyielding confidence and belief; then you're ready. For me, film school is what many people do to find those things. The alternative route is to learn through trying, and by helping out, and by listening: there is great wisdom to be found by helping on film sets.

Do what feels right. Follow your mind and body in the direction they are pulling you. NO-ONE can tell you whether film school is right or not; both paths can lead you to jubilation or depression, just like anything else.

The one thing I will say, whilst admitting I'm partial to going the industry route--- many, many graduates have said to me, "I wish I'd done what you did," and nobody has ever said "I'm struggling to get work, I wish I'd been to film school." Often, people go to study film simply because they're clueless about how to move forward with their careers. Maybe that isn't a good reason.

Film school is great for making contacts, friends and collaborators-- I missed out on that. I've always been a little jealous of some of my film school peers who seem to take turns to work on each others passion projects, and they all chip in and work together. There's something wonderful about that. Film school gave them that. It's been more gradual for me to find those types of relationships through going it the industry route.

In terms of succeeding in the industry, it really doesn't make a difference. No-one cares. But, paradoxically, in some way-- everyone cares. On both sides of the argument, people often cut each other down. I have often been asked, in an oppressive kind of way, "Er, did you go to film school?" -- it can be an instant way to try and deflate you. Likewise, I've often seen do-it-yourself types feeling superior because they went out and did it and aren't 'Rich film school kids.' This stuff is nonsense; and I hope we can begin to move past it. The only reason to go to film school should be: because you really want to go to film school. Because you find value in it. Whether it will affect or even help your career in film, who knows. It certainly can.

Care to share?