Motion pictures are so much a part of our lives that it’s hard to imagine a world without them. We enjoy them in theaters, at home, in offices, in cars and buses, and on airplanes. We carry films with us in our laptops and iPods. We press the button, and our machines conjures up movies for our pleasure. For about a hundred years, people have been trying to understand why this medium has so captivated us. Films communicate information and ideas, and they show us places and ways of life we might not otherwise know. Important as these benefits are, though, something more is at stake. Films offer us ways of seeing and feeling that we find deeply gratifying. They take us through experiences. The experiences are often driven by stories, with characters we come to care about, but films might also develop an idea or explore visual qualities or sound textures. A film takes us on a journey, offering a patterned experience that engages our minds
and emotions. It doesn’t happen by accident. Films are designed to have effects on viewers. Late in the 19th century, moving pictures emerged as a public amusement. They succeeded because they spoke to the imaginative needs of a broad-based audience.
All the traditions that emerged—telling fictional stories, recording actual events,
animating objects or pictures, experimenting with pure form—aimed to give viewers
experiences they couldn’t get from other media. The men and women who made
films discovered that they could control aspects of cinema to give their audience
richer, more engaging experiences. Learning from one another, expanding and refining
the options available, filmmakers developed skills that became the basis of
film as an art form.
The popular origins of cinema suggest that some common ways of talking
won’t help us much in understanding film. Take the distinction between art and entertainment.
Some people would say that blockbusters playing at the multiplex are
merely “entertainment,” while films for a narrower public—perhaps independent
films, or festival fare, or specialized experimental works—are true art. Usually the
art/entertainment split carries a not-so-hidden value judgment: Art is high-brow
whereas entertainment is superficial. Yet things aren’t that simple. As we just indicated,
many of the artistic resources of cinema were discovered by filmmakers
working for the general public. During the 1910s and 1920s, for instance, manyfilms that aimed only to be entertaining opened up new possibilities for film editing.
As for the matter of value, it’s clear that popular traditions can foster art of high
quality. Just as Shakespeare and Dickens wrote for a broad audience, much of the
greatest twentieth-century music, including jazz and the blues, was rooted in popular
traditions. Cinema is an art because it offers filmmakers ways to design experiences
for viewers, and those experiences can be valuable regardless of their
pedigree. Films for audiences both small and large belong to that very inclusive art
we call cinema.
and emotions. It doesn’t happen by accident. Films are designed to have effects on viewers. Late in the 19th century, moving pictures emerged as a public amusement. They succeeded because they spoke to the imaginative needs of a broad-based audience.
All the traditions that emerged—telling fictional stories, recording actual events,
animating objects or pictures, experimenting with pure form—aimed to give viewers
experiences they couldn’t get from other media. The men and women who made
films discovered that they could control aspects of cinema to give their audience
richer, more engaging experiences. Learning from one another, expanding and refining
the options available, filmmakers developed skills that became the basis of
film as an art form.
The popular origins of cinema suggest that some common ways of talking
won’t help us much in understanding film. Take the distinction between art and entertainment.
Some people would say that blockbusters playing at the multiplex are
merely “entertainment,” while films for a narrower public—perhaps independent
films, or festival fare, or specialized experimental works—are true art. Usually the
art/entertainment split carries a not-so-hidden value judgment: Art is high-brow
whereas entertainment is superficial. Yet things aren’t that simple. As we just indicated,
many of the artistic resources of cinema were discovered by filmmakers
working for the general public. During the 1910s and 1920s, for instance, manyfilms that aimed only to be entertaining opened up new possibilities for film editing.
As for the matter of value, it’s clear that popular traditions can foster art of high
quality. Just as Shakespeare and Dickens wrote for a broad audience, much of the
greatest twentieth-century music, including jazz and the blues, was rooted in popular
traditions. Cinema is an art because it offers filmmakers ways to design experiences
for viewers, and those experiences can be valuable regardless of their
pedigree. Films for audiences both small and large belong to that very inclusive art
we call cinema.
No comments:
Post a Comment