What's It To You? The Different Ways of Viewing the Same Film

I couldn't believe I missed it. Because the starting time of youngest daughter's graduation was moved back and because it then ran for three hours and because my destination was so far away, I missed it. I missed a party I'd looked forward to for nine months. It was the year end party held by the faculty of the school I used to work at. Most of my former colleagues, many of whom I'd not seen since late last Summer were there and I was to be honored for my 20 years of service to the school. But circumstances conspired and I missed it.

What did it mean?

For the two weeks since then I've tried to derive meaning from failing (through not fault of my own) to make it to the party. I could simply decide that it was the bad fortune of two important events overlapping and, though it was a crying shame, had no further significance.

But no, I must find meaning, import, symbolism. Clearly this was open to interpretation.

So it is with films. I wrote about this in a post yesterday about Holiday (1938) a supposed romantic comedy that I view as an attack on the moneyed class and an endorsement of people "finding themselves."

The true magic of art is that the same example of it can mean different things to different people. I don't know if this is especially true of films but it most definitely is true of films. I've never be one to disabuse someone of their notion of what a particular movie means; however we should all be ready and most willing to share our perspectives.

It's also interesting to note that our own interpretations of a film can change from one viewing to the next, often depending upon our state of mind when we see it.

I first saw Sunset Boulevard (1950) as a horror story. That creepy house, the monkey burial, the way Norma Desmond talked and walked. Next I viewed it as a indictment of Hollywood. Another viewing convinced me I was watching a story about how desperate people sometimes find one another and form a symbiotic relationship that can destroy both hosts.

That's what makes a film a classic. You can view it countless times and each time see it as if through a different prism.

I find that many of favorite films have myriad layers. The Searchers (1956), The Godfather (1972) and Jules and Jim (1962) are examples of films that give me something new each time. I love The Sting (1973) but haven't watched it nor wanted to watch it in years. I've exhausted its possibilities.

Most of my favorite foreign films, and particularly those from France, and most particularly those from Francois Truffaut are worth repeat viewings just to derive something new each time. Part of this is the subtlety of the work. Characters are less mannered in a lot of French cinema. Stories are less reliant on action scenes. Plot points are more carefully developed.

As an audience we intuit more in our initial viewings, then start to discover more "facts" relevant to the story. We can even be influenced in subsequent viewings by reviews we've since read or conversations with others about the film or, in the case of movies based on real events, from having learned about the "real story." We can also come to feel comfortable with the characters, as I have, for example with The Searchers' Ethan Edwards.

With I Loved You For So Long (2008), I was struck the first time by the amazing performances, particularly from Kristin Scott Thomas. I was also curious to watch the story unfold. When I saw the same film again I was able to watch how the story unfolded and, though still blown way by the acting, paid closer attention to how those great performers related to each other. Consequently I saw the movie in a different light, which I can't go into without spoiling the ending.

Of course knowing how a story is going to turn out strips away a distraction, so that with subsequent viewings we're able to focus on other aspects of the story. It's not always easy to appreciate camera angles and dolly shots when you're sweating out what's going to happen to the hero.

Today I watched John Ford's My Darling Clementine (1946) for the third time in a year and found myself struck by how beautiful a film it is. There's an amazing shot just before the shootout of dawn breaking, we watch the light come up simultaneous with seeing Old Man Clanton raise his head. His face goes from darkness to full light, dominating the frame. It's Walter Brennan's face, big as life and its a great shot.

So if someone asked me about the film right now I'd talk about some of the camera shots whereas as few months ago I'd have gone on about something else, such as Fonda's performance. It's actually quite common to to be initially taken in by the actors and later appreciate the director's part in the film. I almost never hear anyone rave about Michale Curtiz, the director, when they talk about Casablanca (1942) and that's a great injustice. Curtiz did a remarkable job, something that has become increasingly evident to me.

So which is it? Is All Quiet on the Western Front (1930) an anti-war film, or a study of very young men in extraordinary circumstances? Is Do the Right Thing (1989) a look at latent racism, or the impossibility of living up to its title? Is Wings of Desire (1987) a celebration of life or a meditation on death? And is Anton Chigurh in No Country for Old Men (2007) supposed to represent death, pure evil or is he just one bad ass killer? And what sticks out, is it Javier Bardem, the cinema photography or the Coens' attention to detail?

I'll put it thusly: When I was a history teacher and would give a test I would always include an opinion question at the end. "How can there be a wrong answer to an opinion question?" I'd often be asked. "There are no wrong answers." I would reply. "But you will only get credit if your answer is well thought out and if you can offer some evidence for it."

So it is with films. There are no wrong interpretations. But you owe it to yourself to think it through. And, oh by the way, be prepared to have a whole new interpretation next time.

How About a Little Perspective - Or - The Subversive Message of Holiday

So Holiday is a comedy, right?

The 1938 film with Hepburn and Grant?

Yeah that's the one.

Well there are certainly comic elements in it....

It's a romance too.

So you’re saying it's a romantic comedy?

Of course, what else?

What else indeed. It's a movie with a very strong anti business, anti greed message.

Huh?

In Holiday (1938) Cary Grant stars as Johnny Case a man of 30 who's worked his way from the bottom rung of society to the verge of greatness in the business world. However instead of pushing on and amassing a great fortune, Johnny wants to find himself.

He tells his future sister-in-law, Linda Seton (Kate Hepburn): "As soon as I get enough money I'm going to knock off for awhile. The world's changing there's a lot of new exciting ideas... I want to know where I stand, how I fit into the picture, what it's going to mean to me. I can't find that out sitting behind some desk in an office. (I'll) come back and work when I know what it is I'm working for."

Obviously impressed Linda replies, "you haven't been caught by it yet you haven't bit bitten by it.... The reverence for riches."

While on his first ever Holiday taken at Lake Placid, Johnny has just met Julia Seton (Doris Nolan) and they've fallen instantly in love an mean to marry. Unbeknownst to Johnny, Linda comes from an extremely wealthy family. Johnny's plans to to make some quick dough and go find himself will not sit well with Julia's father, the stuffy widower, Edward Seton. Nor for that matter will they meet with the unsuspecting Julia's approval. She tells Johnny, "there's no such thrill in the world as making money."

The free spirited Linda however is entranced by Johnny. Her besotted and philosophical brother, Ned (Lew Ayres) also takes to him.

Johnny and Julia's engagement is to be announced at the the Seton's New York mansion during a New Year's Eve party which will be attended by all the best people. That is, those of good breeding and huge bank accounts.

At the party we meet a cousin, Seton Cram (Harry Daniell) and his wife Laura (Binnie Barnes). They talk and walk as the very embodiment of cultured conservative society. Each word they utter sounds coated in brie. Since their cousin's intended is an unknown they hypothesize that he is "a common climber who nobody knows." And Seton scoffs that this Case fellow "doesn't even belong to the Harvard Club."

Also among the cast are two old friends of Johnny's, Professor Nick Potter (Edward Everett Horton) and his wife Susan Elliot Potter (Jean Dixon). We meet them at the beginning of the movie sitting in front of their fireplace reading. We find them to be convivial, intelligent fun loving sorts. The Potters represent the sort of intellectuals that conservatives abhor.

These same Potters are at the party and feeling quite out of place until they come across "the playroom" and meet Linda who wants nothing to do with the big shindig going on downstairs. Of course they form an instant bond and are later joined by Ned then Johnny, who's sent to coax Linda into joining the other revelers (though their form of revelry is as raucous as a spelling bee). The playrrom assemblage form "the 5th avenue anti stuffed shirt club and flying trapeze club." When Seton and Laura enter the room, our friends not so subtly give them the fascist salute.

Ignoring this, Seton congratulates Johnny on his business venture which he has just learned is going to bring instant riches. Johnny's delighted as it will mean he can follow his heart, quit business for awhile and go into the business of figuring out the world and his place in it.

There's a joke about making million at which point Seton says, "mark my words with the help of the right sort of people you'll make more than that within two years. It wouldn't take that long if we had the right kind of government."

"Like which country for example Mr. Cram?" asks Mrs. Potter.

Keep in mind that Holiday was released early in Franklin Roosevelt's second term. He had won re-election by a landslide but was still reviled by many of the wealthiest Americans who considered him a "traitor to his class." while he was helping millions out of the Depression, tens of Americans were whining about losing a few cents of their profits and having to lay off a chauffeur.

In the penultimate conversation with his prospective father-in-law who's anxious to set Johnny up in banking, our protagonist says, "I'm afraid I'm not quite as anxious as I might be for the things most people work towards. I don't want too much money."

"Too much money?" the shocked multi-millionaire responds.

"More than I need to live by. You see its always been my idea to make a few thousand early in the game and then quit for at long as it lasts and try to find out who I am and what goes on and what about it while I'm young and feel good all the time."

Shocking!

Meanwhile it has become increasingly obvious to us and to the Potters and Ned, that Linda and Johnny are a much better fit than Julia and Johnny.

How does it all end? Likely you've seen Holiday and know, but on the off chance you haven't I'll not spoil the ending -- just promise you'll rent it post haste.

Holiday was based on a Phillip Barry play and no, Barry was not a radical, he was in fact a member of the upper crust which made him all the more qualified to comment on them.

So as you can see Holiday may have some romance and a few yucks in it but it's clearly a film that carries a very strong message.

You know I never really noticed it but you're right.

I know the first few times I saw it I was more taken in by watching Grant and Hepburn.

And Lew Ayers, God he was terrific.

Yes George Cukor directed and he brought all the elements together.

But you're right it really is a powerful indictment of the monied class.

And a call to arms to explore the world before getting bogged down by possessions.

Great film. Thanks for helping me see it it in a whole new way.

You're welcome!