More on Film (no, I never stop)

Greetings, reader. I don't think there are many of you left, but that's ok. Those of you who are here and reading this: know that I appreciate it.

It seems that whenever I don't have anything particular to talk about, I always fall back on film as a good topic. Hey, I always have something to say about it...so here it goes.

As Tom Hanks says in the excellent Apollo 13: "Gentlemen, what are your intentions?" I've been spending a lot of time thinking about this question in relation to film, its meaning, and my potential place in it.

As related to that, I have had some interesting experiences lately in this area. I picked up a book from the library the other day--a collection of writings by the famous film critic, Roger Ebert. I enjoy reading Ebert; he is a very good writer when he likes a movie, and a very funny writer when he does not. Anyway, this book included Ebert's reviews for what he considered the 50 best movies of the 20th century (or something like that). To my shame, I had not seen a single one (they were not particularly prominent)--however, reading about them was an unusual experience. Ebert's work tossed around some of the greatest names in the business: Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, Oliver Stone, Francois Truffaut, etc. (I have seen movies by these people, just not the ones Ebert selected) He described these men and their work with great detail. It is hard to describe the feelings I had in reading this--maybe I could compare it to an aspiring artist studying da Vinci. Deep down, it is the realization that film is an art. I mean, in way more than the obvious sense.

The realization that film is an art leads to two different emotions, for me anyway. The first is feeling slightly intimidated, slightly inadequate. When you realize just how deep the art of film runs--as with any art--just how subtle and profound its innovations, all the thought and work that goes into every moment of a well-made film, you start to wonder, "could I even do this?" The arts are a tricky thing, they bring in a difficult element of the need for a certain depth of ability, a drive to be "worthy" of one's art. I've started taking the idea of film a lot more seriously lately, not just as entertainment but as a profound art to pursue.

The other emotion is rather more positive--an excitement and a confirmation. I sit down and read about these movies, or watch some finely-made piece like Fahrenheit 451 or Quiz Show (my third and favorite exposure to the excellent Robert Redford, something I connected with rather better than A River Runs Through It or Bagger Vance) or Koyaanisqatsi or whatever, and I start to go yes, this is something worthwhile, this is something great that I could dedicate myself to creating. Film has always meant a lot to me. In Chariots of Fire, athlete Eric Liddel states: "When I run, I feel [God's] pleasure". We could all understand a Christian mountain climber or painter or musician or anyone really, stating that they feel closer to God when they do this particular thing. Like it is what they were created to do. I often feel that way around movies. I have literally entered into worship with God while watching a particularly beautiful scene in a movie—the same thing that might happen with a great song, etc. From my first Disney movies, viewed at the earliest times I can remember, movies have reached me at a very deep place. Some movies, their words, their scenes, their music, are woven so deeply into my person that even though I have long outgrown them, I still cannot view them without overwhelming emotion. Even now, with movies like Lord of the Rings, I don't just enjoy them for the many good reasons that most teenagers enjoy them--for me, watching these movies is an incredibly significant spiritual and emotional experience.

My imagination has always operated best in “movie mode”—seeing scenes of a story acted out in my head. Anything like books or poems or music or scenery evokes vivid visualizations for me. I can find joy and fascination in a single vocal inflection, a single expression or movement, a 3-5 second portion of a movie that I will rewind over and over, watching in fascination. These elements are what connects me with the world of film, and what really excites me.

These are the moments when I feel like maybe, just maybe, I have something to contribute. I worry about the technical elements of film—as embraced by physical operation of technology and also the technological aspects of the art itself—because while I am not incompetent, I feel awkward and behind when wrestling with these parts of film. I wallow in exposures and white balances and shutter speeds and tungsten and so on, knowing what I want but very unsure of how to get there. Of all the myriads of filmmaking “wannabes”, I feel only average in this area. More often when it comes to any of my artistic endeavors, whether film or writing or whatever, people have not commented on the technical excellence of it so much as things like “it really brought this to life for me” or “you made me think about this a new way” or “you completely put me into this situation and walked me through it”. So I pray that this means I have something meaningful to contribute; film means so much to me, and I would love to be able to use it not just as mindless entertainment, but like the art that it is. I think God has given me a special connection with movies; I only hope I can use the gifts He has given me to praise him through this medium.

Before I sign off I also have a quick news update/prayer request for whoever reads this. This Thursday (April 2nd), I’m flying by myself from Colorado to Idaho to visit Northwest Nazarene University. Then in several weeks, on April 16th, I’m doing the same thing in the opposite direction to check out Asbury College in Kentucky. I’m pretty excited about the potential opportunities at these colleges. For being relatively small, obscure Christian schools, they really seem to be thriving and active. So I would appreciate any prayers for safe travel, insight, etc. Thanks!