There's nothing worse than a one sided story but, unfortuately, most of life's events are told and retold through the eyes of one; one nation, one army, one person. That one is never omnipotent and can always only have a painfully subjective view of things as they experienced them. Fiction is especially good at painting great single sided stories; essentially everything made for children prays on their acceptance of a black and white world. Wicked, however, does exactly the opposite. In a glaringly obvious criticism of modern Western culture, the show admits that the original story does not quite do the "Wicked Witch" justice. Her tale, until now, had been completely untold.
My boyfriend's neice loves Wicked. On more than one occasion she has insisted everyone within earshot sit and watch her rendition of "No Good Deed Goes Unpunished". Like most little kids would, she knows all the words to her favorite songs, and could probably recite most of the performance's speaking parts, too. What is not certain, though, is whether or not she realizes the impact of the words she's singing. Yes, Wicked is a musical. Yes, it's fiction. But that does not mean there is anything less than serious about it. Through this musical, people of all ages see and can know for themselves that there is always something left unsaid, something you cannot possibly know unless you ask. In today's world, this is especially true. The Wizard says it best when he says, "Elphaba, where I'm from, we believe all sorts of things that aren't true. We call it - 'history'". For everyone, but for children especially, this message is crucial. "There are precious few at ease with moral ambiguities. So we act as though they don't exist", says the Wizard. I wonder if President Bush has seen Wicked...
Everything you do has the potential to be horribly misconstrued and misunderstood. Life isn't always fair. Not everything you hear, or think you know, is wholly or even partially true. People lie, and not everyone is who you think they are. Those are the lessons taught by Wicked. But let's not forget maybe the most important lesson of all... despite the struggles, despite the deceit, and despite your own doubts, sometimes "life has a funny way of helping you out". (Thanks, Alanis)
Showing posts with label Laurel Butcher. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Laurel Butcher. Show all posts
Friday, July 6, 2007
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Harry Potter
Crowd energy infects the masses. No matter what the spectacle, no one escapes the contagious element of being part of something bigger than anything one individual can do alone. Hitler knew it and now Harry Potter knows it. (Hitler and Harry in the same sentence? What??)
Anyone who claims there’s no way that people of different races, religions, genders, and political ideals can't get along together in tight quarters should go stand in a throng of enthusiastic fans, waiting for a spectacle. During those moments (or hours, as it were), everyone wants the same thing and no one will leave until they get it.
At the premier this past week, thousands of fans showed up just to catch a glimpse of the pseudo wizards and witches. Posters and homemade signs became prepubescent girls’ most prized possessions as soon as TV cameras came within 20 yards. Like their lives depended on it, they shook and waved their handwritten proclamations of love in desperate attempts to catch the eye of interviewers and stars alike. Rarely did it actually get them anywhere, but it fed the crowd’s energy, so it was good.
Age was not a common factor throughout the group. People covered the spectrum—some had to ditch school to get there, others hadn’t been to school in decades. No one bothered dressing up, either. On an unspoken level, everyone knew the stars would take the cake no matter what. The individual did not matter.
When the stars finally showed, the rain rushed them into the protection of the VIP area, away from the fans, much to their vehemently expressed chagrin. But no amount of yelling, cussing, or whining would bring them back. Despite the fact that no one important was staying in view of the cameras for long, the mobs could not bring themselves to break from the idol worship until nearly every Mercedes in the entourage had delivered its passengers.
An event like this is one of a kind. It is the only time a bunch of people will stand around strangers to gawk at other strangers… and everyone is perfectly happy with that.
Anyone who claims there’s no way that people of different races, religions, genders, and political ideals can't get along together in tight quarters should go stand in a throng of enthusiastic fans, waiting for a spectacle. During those moments (or hours, as it were), everyone wants the same thing and no one will leave until they get it.
At the premier this past week, thousands of fans showed up just to catch a glimpse of the pseudo wizards and witches. Posters and homemade signs became prepubescent girls’ most prized possessions as soon as TV cameras came within 20 yards. Like their lives depended on it, they shook and waved their handwritten proclamations of love in desperate attempts to catch the eye of interviewers and stars alike. Rarely did it actually get them anywhere, but it fed the crowd’s energy, so it was good.
Age was not a common factor throughout the group. People covered the spectrum—some had to ditch school to get there, others hadn’t been to school in decades. No one bothered dressing up, either. On an unspoken level, everyone knew the stars would take the cake no matter what. The individual did not matter.
When the stars finally showed, the rain rushed them into the protection of the VIP area, away from the fans, much to their vehemently expressed chagrin. But no amount of yelling, cussing, or whining would bring them back. Despite the fact that no one important was staying in view of the cameras for long, the mobs could not bring themselves to break from the idol worship until nearly every Mercedes in the entourage had delivered its passengers.
An event like this is one of a kind. It is the only time a bunch of people will stand around strangers to gawk at other strangers… and everyone is perfectly happy with that.
Dumbo
Even before Robin Williams got involved in the business, Disney movies were not just for kids. In fact, anything made for children, unless it is also made by children, cannot possibly remain devoid of adult themes, undertones, or humour—call it the maker’s mark. Life experience always seeps into the creative process. To expect adults to wipe their experiential slates clean is not only impossible, but would also represent an evolutionary disadvantage. Children learn from adults; what to wear, what to think, what to say, how to feel. It is no accident that the media (an adult world) is often blamed for the actions of young and “impressionable” people. Some truth may lie in those accusations. Even in a movie as seemingly benign as “Dumbo”, the adult frame of reference overshadows the potential for the maintenance of childhood innocence.
To be sure, Disney intended to tell the endearing story of a deserted baby elephant who, with the help of his friend the circus mouse, ultimately learns to fly. And so he did; that story is obvious. What he could not refrain from doing while simultaneously telling the obvious and happy tale, was injecting the plot with mature social undertones. Dumbo’s mother goes insane because of a bunch of unruly boys jeering and taunting her son. The circus men lock her in a cage to keep her separated from all the “normal” animals, not at all unlike what happened to people, mostly women, who were deemed mentally ill for centuries, leading up the time of the movie’s release. The Freudian influence on the understanding of psychology, especially of “hysterical” women, is painfully evident. After his mother’s rampage, the other elephants socially ostracise Dumbo. Granted, children know very well who and what they do not like. But it is not until others teach them that they learn to shun those who are “different”, even if the difference has no negative consequence whatsoever.
But even more compelling, and especially more controversial, than themes of mental illness and social ostracism, is the notion of racism Disney has been accused of portraying. Near the end of the film, after Dumbo’s night of pink elephants, he finds himself up a tree he could neither have climbed nor jumped into. A flock of black crows, voiced almost entirely by African American choir members, sings “I be done seen ‘bout everything when I seen an elephant fly”. What many people opposed to the supposed racial discrimination portrayed in this portion of the film are quick to point out is that the crows are loud, obnoxious, and “stupid” and are meant to represent black culture. However, what is perhaps undermined by the racial discrimination argument is the fact that the crows are the only characters, besides the mouse or Dumbo’s mother, who show any kindness to Dumbo. In fact, they are the only other characters who cry, or say kind words to him, and they actually end up helping him find his proverbial wings. In essence, they are his saviours and social mentors. Usually, if an audience is to be convinced of a characters “badness”, a film will not portray him or her doing kind deeds or saying nice things. So, while there very well may be racial representation from a very narrow and stereotypical standpoint, given the actuality of who the characters are in relation to Dumbo, it is less than convincing to argue that the racial representation is, in fact, racial discrimination.
So, while the film is rife with adult content and themes, the debate over whether or not the crows characters are in fact poor representations of the African American community is the most controversial.
To be sure, Disney intended to tell the endearing story of a deserted baby elephant who, with the help of his friend the circus mouse, ultimately learns to fly. And so he did; that story is obvious. What he could not refrain from doing while simultaneously telling the obvious and happy tale, was injecting the plot with mature social undertones. Dumbo’s mother goes insane because of a bunch of unruly boys jeering and taunting her son. The circus men lock her in a cage to keep her separated from all the “normal” animals, not at all unlike what happened to people, mostly women, who were deemed mentally ill for centuries, leading up the time of the movie’s release. The Freudian influence on the understanding of psychology, especially of “hysterical” women, is painfully evident. After his mother’s rampage, the other elephants socially ostracise Dumbo. Granted, children know very well who and what they do not like. But it is not until others teach them that they learn to shun those who are “different”, even if the difference has no negative consequence whatsoever.
But even more compelling, and especially more controversial, than themes of mental illness and social ostracism, is the notion of racism Disney has been accused of portraying. Near the end of the film, after Dumbo’s night of pink elephants, he finds himself up a tree he could neither have climbed nor jumped into. A flock of black crows, voiced almost entirely by African American choir members, sings “I be done seen ‘bout everything when I seen an elephant fly”. What many people opposed to the supposed racial discrimination portrayed in this portion of the film are quick to point out is that the crows are loud, obnoxious, and “stupid” and are meant to represent black culture. However, what is perhaps undermined by the racial discrimination argument is the fact that the crows are the only characters, besides the mouse or Dumbo’s mother, who show any kindness to Dumbo. In fact, they are the only other characters who cry, or say kind words to him, and they actually end up helping him find his proverbial wings. In essence, they are his saviours and social mentors. Usually, if an audience is to be convinced of a characters “badness”, a film will not portray him or her doing kind deeds or saying nice things. So, while there very well may be racial representation from a very narrow and stereotypical standpoint, given the actuality of who the characters are in relation to Dumbo, it is less than convincing to argue that the racial representation is, in fact, racial discrimination.
So, while the film is rife with adult content and themes, the debate over whether or not the crows characters are in fact poor representations of the African American community is the most controversial.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
The Wizard of Oz
Case History:
- Mr. Cowardly Lion is a single male (?) who lives alone, and has no children or family to speak of. He is not currently employed, and recent employment records do not indicate gainful employment at any time during the past 24 months.
Chief Complaint:
- Mr. Lion did not actively seek treatment. He was involuntarily committed after being arrested for vagrancy. He has since been exhibiting nervous and paranoid tendencies in addition to a generally aggressive personality. He also appears to be experiencing schizophrenic hallucinations of a land he calls “Oz” where he intends to meet a “wizard”. The hallucinations also reference three other individuals, namely a young woman called Dorothy, a “Tin Man”, and a scarecrow. Multiple personality disorders are not to be ruled out.
Preliminary DSM-IV Diagnosis:
- Axis I: Clinical Syndromes (Diagnosis)
o Generalized Anxiety Disorder:
§ Evidenced by Mr. Lion’s excessive worry, and accompanying physical symptoms of such anxiety (shaking, tail wringing, etc.)
§ Possibly the result of childhood abuse (would explain the aggressive/self-defense tendencies toward even non-threatening others).
o Schizophrenia:
§ Delusions of Oz and the Wizard
§ Delusions that someone (a small dog named Toto, or a witch) is trying to hurt him
§ Visions of grandeur (often heard singing “If I were king of the forest…”)
§ Hallucinations of other individuals (both visual and auditory)
o Sheep Phobia:
§ Claimed he could not count them to get to sleep because he was afraid of them.
- Axis II: Developmental and Personality Disorders
o Borderline Personality Disorder:
§ History of negative self view and inconsistent moods combined with significant impulsivity (with an exaggerated inability to control aggressive impulses).
§ Indicative, again, of childhood abuse and a resulting history of unstable relationships.
§ Also currently exhibiting the fear of abandonment and attachment to imagined figures (see above).
- Axis III: Physical Conditions which play a role in the development, continuance, or exacerbation of Axis I and II Disorders
o None
Treatment Plan:
- Therapy:
o Role play therapy needed to work through childhood issues (possible hypnotherapy if voluntary regression is unsuccessful)
o Intensive cognitive-behavioural therapy needed to reduce negative self thoughts and behaviours
o Desensitization/flooding therapy to alleviate phobia of sheep
- Medication:
o Traditional antipsychotic medication
o Possible antidepressant program
Prognosis:
- Hard to determine. If schizophrenia is ruled out (unlikely), the anxiety and personality disorders should be treated more successfully.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Sketch: a brief or hasty outline of facts, or occurrences (thank you dictionary.com)
The fun thing about art is the interpretation. I’m allowed to take someone else’s intentions and bastardize them beyond recognition. I’m allowed to say “I think…”, and be completely wrong. So I will.
I think a fair amount of human experience can be, and is, described by various attempts at making others feel/see/understand (on any level) what the world is like through alternative viewpoints. In a sense, all art, regardless of medium, is an exercise in translation (from one person to another). The film currently on display in Sketch is no different.
All deeper, more philosophical and spiritual discussions aside, for me, the experience was about personal space. Essentially, personal space (both mental and physical), is representative of an individual viewpoint. Only through outward expression are internal states rendered in such a way that previously uninvolved others will be able to experience them for themselves. Sometimes that sharing process is cathartic for all parties. But, sometimes, it’s intrusive for the receiving audience. I found the current exhibition in Sketch to be more of the latter.
When you initially walk into the room, you’re made to feel comfortable… or maybe that was just me. (Either way, since I’m allowed to say whatever I want… I think I will!) The projection, before you recognize the content, casts a soft light over white couches and walls, and even over the other people in the room. Everything blends and bleeds into everything else, like a murky under water picture. It’s an almost cocoon-like space, despite the fact that it’s a big room. But that physical comfort is absolutely compromised by the imposed visual and psychological discomfort induced by the content of the film.
The video, projected onto all four of the surrounding walls of the room, follows a young man’s physical breakdown into a grand mal seizure. Footage of his violent convulsions, juxtaposed with the spiritually inclined, relaxing, eerily calming clips of other people, leaves you wondering what message the artist is trying to convey. But ultimately, that’s not important. As a viewer, I was forced out of my mental comfort zone, and into the space of another person’s physical (and perhaps mental) experience. My reality, my immediate realm of experience, was compromised by the intrusive nature of the film. I saw through someone else’s eyes. Whether I fully understood what they were telling me is arguable. Whether I was meant to see and understand everything being presented is also arguable. No one can possibly observe all four walls at once, and yet viewers are constantly surrounded by visual information on all sides. Maybe we aren’t actually meant to see everything. Maybe that’s the point. How you perceive the world depends on your vantage point. Only through communication with others will you even begin to get out of your box.
Altogether, the film is an epileptic fit that satisfies even the most sadistic voyeuristic tendencies. Oh… and the bathrooms were pretty great, too.
- Laurel Butcher
I think a fair amount of human experience can be, and is, described by various attempts at making others feel/see/understand (on any level) what the world is like through alternative viewpoints. In a sense, all art, regardless of medium, is an exercise in translation (from one person to another). The film currently on display in Sketch is no different.
All deeper, more philosophical and spiritual discussions aside, for me, the experience was about personal space. Essentially, personal space (both mental and physical), is representative of an individual viewpoint. Only through outward expression are internal states rendered in such a way that previously uninvolved others will be able to experience them for themselves. Sometimes that sharing process is cathartic for all parties. But, sometimes, it’s intrusive for the receiving audience. I found the current exhibition in Sketch to be more of the latter.
When you initially walk into the room, you’re made to feel comfortable… or maybe that was just me. (Either way, since I’m allowed to say whatever I want… I think I will!) The projection, before you recognize the content, casts a soft light over white couches and walls, and even over the other people in the room. Everything blends and bleeds into everything else, like a murky under water picture. It’s an almost cocoon-like space, despite the fact that it’s a big room. But that physical comfort is absolutely compromised by the imposed visual and psychological discomfort induced by the content of the film.
The video, projected onto all four of the surrounding walls of the room, follows a young man’s physical breakdown into a grand mal seizure. Footage of his violent convulsions, juxtaposed with the spiritually inclined, relaxing, eerily calming clips of other people, leaves you wondering what message the artist is trying to convey. But ultimately, that’s not important. As a viewer, I was forced out of my mental comfort zone, and into the space of another person’s physical (and perhaps mental) experience. My reality, my immediate realm of experience, was compromised by the intrusive nature of the film. I saw through someone else’s eyes. Whether I fully understood what they were telling me is arguable. Whether I was meant to see and understand everything being presented is also arguable. No one can possibly observe all four walls at once, and yet viewers are constantly surrounded by visual information on all sides. Maybe we aren’t actually meant to see everything. Maybe that’s the point. How you perceive the world depends on your vantage point. Only through communication with others will you even begin to get out of your box.
Altogether, the film is an epileptic fit that satisfies even the most sadistic voyeuristic tendencies. Oh… and the bathrooms were pretty great, too.
- Laurel Butcher
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)