Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Notes on culture and perspective in film:

In my study of the human mind and human social cognition specifically (which is what I do when I'm not watching movies) I have become very familiar with a set of theories that I am beginning to think are relevant to my recent discussion of black cinema; specifically my post on Melvin van Peebles and the inaccessibility of his work to white audiences. This is also relevant to my more recent rant about how Sofia Coppola is an inane whiny bitch. Theory of Mind is the study of how people make inferences about the contents of other people's minds: for example, when a stranger opens a door at the train station and hesitates for just an instant, you have to infer from contextual cues whether this person is holding the door open for you, for another person they are with, or for themselves; and your behavior should appropriately reflect an understanding of their intention. If there is a failure to make the correct inference, you may end up bumping into this person or cutting off their aging mother... at any rate, you get the idea. The simulation theory of mind, which I am a proponent of, suggests that we are capable of making such inferences by simulating the mental state of the person holding the door open: in other words, we put ourselves in their shoes and infer what they will do based on an understanding of what we would do, given their perspective. This is a super-simplified summation (alliteration!) of the theory, but hopefully a useful one. In theory, from infancy we learn about our selves by imitating members of our species; everything from how to move our arms to language, and that we learn about inaccessible internal states of others by simulating their situation within our selves. This is, in theory, how empathy works. You feel the pain or joy of another human being because having access to the internal states of other people helps you infer what they are likely to do, and to behave appropriately given their mental state. OK, one final item, and then I'll get to my point: humans don't, and can't invent things. Yes, it's true that most people consider our ability to make and use tools one of the things that truly makes us human, and yes, we have devised a plethora of novel and useful STUFF, so how, you ask, can I make a statement like that as I sit here typing on a freaking computer for god's sake. The answer is that we are inventive, but the human mind is not capable of creating something out of nothing. It IS capable of abstracting information about objects and inventing new ways to combine, tear apart, or use objects, concepts, and thoughts that exist in this world. But it can't make something from nothing. Even monsters, creations of pure fantasy, are frequently composites of things that exist given a novel arrangement and context. (The griffin?) So what does this have to do with Melvin van Peebles and Sofia Coppola, you ask? Well I, for one, have a hard time identifying with the characters and scenarios in their films. It could be argued that I don't have access to the world's of these films because I don't have access to the minds of the film makers, because our cultures are so disparate. Not just because I've never been a blond millionaire or a black soldier serving overseas, but because these people belong to completely different cultures than I do; cultures in which elements present in these films are familiar, even if placed in a novel context. In the case of Sofia Coppola,I have no problem not identifying with her because I find her despicable; and I place the burden of responsibility on her to make a movie about the human condition, and not about the Sofia Coppola condition, which is apparently blond and spoiled. To some degree, I believe that all artists are responsible for communicating something to their audience. It should be something new, something that pushes us to see and experience new thoughts or perspectives, but if it's entirely inaccessible to an audience, then how can it change them? I probably shouldn't bring this up, because it's a bit of a scary topic to bring up in a public forum, but Wagner's infamous article "Judaism in Music" recently made me think about what I wrote about van Peebles (Oh god, I'm in trouble now). I will not touch upon whether or not I read the article as anti-Semitic, which I did, but will instead focus on one point that he makes. He seems to express that he feels Jewish composers of his era were unsuccessful in composing Opera in the western tradition because it had not been a part of their culture up until that point. This reminded me a lot of what I said about van Peebles work, that it was essentially outsider art that exhibits a lack of fluency in the art form, a form which up until the making of that movie had not been a part of van Peebles' cultural heritage. However, unlike Sofia Coppola, van Peebles does communicate with his audience: just not with all audiences. And at that time, it was very important to start to establish a black cinema, something for and about the experiences of that specific community. But it is also important for that kind of work to be accessible to culturally distinct communities: isn't the spreading of information what it's all about, in the end? In conclusion, I guess I don't really have a point. The issues that I (hope) I've brought up are these: what role does cinema have in culture, and what is the responsibility of the film-maker to communicate and inform audiences? How precious is the idea of a culturally distinct black cinema, a new form that serves specifically to express identities and ideas within a community? I don't have any answers, and I barely had any real questions, but this intersection of the anatomy of the real world (or in this instance, American culture) and our minds' abilities and limitations regarding empathy and understanding of minds separate from our own, really interests me. If that makes any sense.

4 comments:

Stephen Reese said...

Acephale be damned.

You never turn me on more than when you talk about brains.

As for an answer to your question(s), I think you nail the most interesting problem (for me, anyway), when you challenge Coppola to make a film about the human condition rather than her own condition.

BUT...

But...

The trouble comes from the fact that equipped with empathy or no, our understanding of the human condition must inevitably come from greater SELF-awareness, since we cannot (and never will, I'm guessing) be able to truly get inside someone else's head, through art or other means.

I do think it's an admirable aim for an artist to seek, affirm, and distribute greater knowledge of the "broader" human experience (especially among those who lead less considered lives), but realistically, how far beyond their individual boxes (born into or cobbled together) can we ask our artists to range? And is there not value in gathering all disparate viewpoints, however repugnant or truncated, to collate our bigger human picture - rather than smudging variety toward an ideal "empathic" homogeneity?

Put another way: Coppola aside, can we write off similar artists who lead very sheltered, isolated (even mentally disturbed) lives, and yet still have something to produce from their rather singular or limited life experiences? Are they of less worth because they're more...reduced...by circumstance, fortune, whim or otherwise?

It could be argued someone, somewhere benefits from an intimate glimpse into Sofia Coppola's privileged (and boring) world, if only to make the judgment it's not a life worth actively pursuing (or rather, that it's a life worth actively expanding). But in condemning her (empty, in my opinion as well) contribution, you're still making a value judgment about which outsider's perspective is more worthy of attention and celebration.

Isn't (musn't) EVERY individual's perspective (be) an outsider's perspective?

Everyone is OTHER to everyone else. Even Theory of Mind can only attempt a simulation of shared consciousness, and to extend this toward the idea of empathy, I argue empathy's roots are more profitably planted (alliteration!) not in a theoretical (and ultimately, inarticulate) conception of someone else's "intentions", but rather extrapolating human commonalities from a greater understanding of self.

You can reduce it to something as flippant (but true) as:

"Be nice to people, 'cause everyone else is having just as bad a day as you are."

Starting from emotional consistencies and shared physical needs of the human animal, rather than perceived differences of mind, I think one may jump cultural and experiential gaps more easily.

There was another topic you branched into, Lilla: this claim of humans being unable to invent - but I think that's a different discussion and would rather explore this idea of superior empathy as an artistic requirement for now.

If you're up for it.

P.S. Coppola's a blonde?

Lilla Smutzig said...

My point about inventiveness was not well made, my apologies, but what I was getting at is that without experiencing something, either directly or through taking on the perspective of "the other," the mind cannot simulate it, a person cannot understand it. That's how storytelling, and in this day and age (and instance), film making, spread knowledge about minds separate from our own and help us understand our own as well. And yes, the Sofia Coppola that is projected in her films is indeed blond. So in expecting film makers, story tellers, painters, etc... to make works relevant to the human condition, I'm not saying that they not express a unique worldview and perspective, just that they do so in a way where we take that home with us after experiencing their work. I'm also not saying it needs to be easy, the audience needs to be fluent (to some degree) in the art form to take ANYTHING much less the intended message, away with them. So then where does that leave artists like van Peebles? Do they have an obligation to be fluent as well, so that fluent audiences can take away that new chunk of experience? Or will that cause the death of a black cinema? I think it did, actually, although I would have to delve deeper to see if there still is a more underground movement in black cinema that I'm not aware of.

Stephen Reese said...

I agree with you about true understanding requiring experience or well-trained empathy, Lilla.

Whether common fluency is a requirement for success of a given art form in imparting new perspective is also interesting.

What strikes me is that first you state an audience must be fluent in order to take anything from art. Then you suggest the flipside, that van Peebles might need to be fluent in a given art form for an audience to engage.

Where do we meet in the middle?

I'd argue the Western filmic "fluency", at least, assembled from Eisenstein through D.W. Griffith through Orson Welles and so on, is the language van Peebles isn't speaking for lack of exposure to it, a specific resistance to aping it, or some other reason I'm not aware of (I'm no expert on black cinema, which is not just my problem, of course, but part of the problem at large).

So. Should van Peebles tell his personal story in someone else's "language", so to speak (extending an open embrace to the "filmic" audience, perhaps), or should he use the words and rhythms he knows/"invents" (and maybe this is where "invention" comes into the equation), and let the audience make the effort of coming to him, in *his* corner of the "filmic" diaspora?

If he chooses to speak in his own tongue, is he (intentionally or not) limiting the dissemination of his knowledge to his own "people"? In not making an attempt to process this other way of communicating, are we failing the artist with our wilful ignorance?

If the responsibility for improving empathy through art (or film) extends in either direction (from artist to audience and back), what "percentage" of the load of plenty do we each shoulder?

I'm going to argue for everyone giving at least a little, but I'm leaning more toward it being the artist's primary responsibility.

I'm reminded of _The Blue Sky_ (a Galsan Tschinag book I'm currently reading). He's a Tuvan shaman from Mongolia who adopted German as a second language, wrote novels in Krautspeak, and has now received an English translation of his first book for a much broader audience (including me, though I'm of German heritage myself, and maybe *I* should have learned *that* language to access his message - though I doubt I'd ever have heard of its existence in the first place without a translation).

If a message or perspective is valuable and universal enough to share with as many people as possible, I guess I'm wondering why any artist would not choose to employ whatever tools they had at their disposal to "get the word out". Or enlist others in the "translation" effort - as many as needed, and however possible.

I *do* know why Average Joe won't employ every tool at his disposal (or better yet, seek out other, newer tools) to connect with something unfamiliar to him, least of all an alien art form.

So if artists are the "exceptional" individuals in this equation, the ones leading considered lives, the ones more readily accessing these varied-perspective building blocks we need to assemble an evolved empathy, perhaps the onus must necessarily be on them to work the hardest in bridging the distances.

P.S. Just as interesting to me as this discussion is that while you fetishize blond males on Acephale, when considering females, "blonde" is used as a casual derogative.

Lilla Smutzig said...

I sexualize blonds of both genders in my other blog, thank you very much. The reason I keep using the word while talking about SC is, I guess, a testament to how confused and alarmed I am by her conception and representations of femininity, or something.

Also, the lack of fluency I propose that van Peebles exhibits isn't just a lack of fluency in a prescriptive grammar of cinema such as that developed through Eisenstein and the french new wave etc... although that is certainly a part of it. I have more thoughts on this, I'll return to it later...