After dissing the idea and the crudity of Jarhead, Jess and I found ourselves in front of Good night and Good luck, again in an audience that had at the least, thirty more years worth of life experience per head than each of us.
As I described the movie later, “It engaged my intelligence more than my emotions” – to which Jess prompty replied, “It’s more of a boys movie then” which we both refuted on the basis of not enough of that kind of action in same way a girls movie has a lot of that kind of love.
If you have been unobservant you would have noticed nothing about me that likes culture or sophistication. If I had the money and could think of less worthy causes, I would visit places like Hamer Hall far more frequently. As it is, I have to content myself with good range of classics (some of which I simply read, to say I’ve read them – by after reading them, realise that I actually found myself slightly enthralled)and the occasional decent arthouse’ish movie. Which I entirely pin down to strange taste and far less to cultural exploration.
Good night and Good luck intitially utterly confused me as it explores a world of journalism and politics (set in the 50’s) – of politics I pretend to have a loathing for, for the fear and suspcision that if I actually took the time to explore it I might find myself vaguely facinated. I know very little about that world and I shall continue to wear the front that I don’t care in the slightest, as it is easier and I don’t quite have time just yet to delve into it.
Aside from the political aspects, what did facinate me was the interplay of censorship and truth and presentation and the potential usefulness of something I generally regard as fairly pointless. Television.
I came out thoroughly satisfied, with my mind overworked and beautifully sharp from being fine-tuned from an hour and a half of semi-intense concentration.
The truth of the matter is that I am a sophisticate fraud. I confess it is a lot of fun. Some day perhaps I’ll cut through the crap of pretense and maybe pack the job. Until then, I’ll hole up at home and line up, Of Mice and Men, 1984, War and Peace, Don Quitoxe, Lolita and maybe even give Wuthering Heights a second chance.
Start dissing my films, and I’ll start dissing yours. Jarhead was a rather good film. A brilliant piece of (anti)war literature, in fact. So just watch yourself.