I was horrified again today to realize that the quality of art in movies, of intelligence
in movies had sunk just a bit lower again. It isn't all movies of course and to say so would be belligerent. It's only some. I could (and do) avoid it in so many other movies, they just aren't my taste. But it was the children's movies that I found difficult to swallow.
The children in those movies weren't children at all. Not any I've known.
Where had all the real children gone? And where were their real emotions?
Children as written in recent movies are bland and predictable. They will coo and "wahoo" their way through actions, they can be stupid and evil, and they don't usually understand anything under the surface. A giant THING must occur for them to react or be interested. They're cute. Whatever cute may be, they're it.
I have never met a completely idiotic child. Cruel yes. They do "wahoo" but happily, mostly for an adult's appreciation. They focus on and love something on a much smaller scale. If an adult raises that scale, their scale for what is interesting will of course raise as well. You can give a mouse a cookie, you can give a boy a gameboy...of course what will they want next?
The best real child in any movie in my opinion is Le Ballon Rouge. You have the mind of a child, as simple and raw and just as complicated as any adult...Possibly more. And you have an object in which love is projected. The boy barely speaks in the film but you understand everything he feels. You miss the feeling. That is a real child. That was
a real child. I believe the director's son. Not an actor paid to go through motions you believe children will see themselves as or hope to be and adults will giggle over.
What is an intelligent child viewed as in movies or television? Precocious.
I dislike that word so much. It's an insult. An enormous and beautiful soul grows in every small child and they're viewed as precocious
I still wander toward shop windows and look at balloons, and think just for an instant...Could I buy one? Would it follow me? Would I love it as much as anything that someone could possibly adore in the world?
A child could. They do. Children can act out the parts of the "wahoo's" and big screens but they'll always immerse themselves in Pascal. It isn't even a character at that point. Most adults feel horrible when they see the balloon crumple. And everyone wants to be carried away by hundreds of beautiful balloons that come searching for you at your need.
On the rage of pubescence (and a few years afterward) I turned to my dad on an outing and expressed my hope of never losing the uncanny ability to feel everything as deeply as you do as a child. That I wouldn't be afraid of it all coursing through me. He smiled and without turning to me said I wouldn't. I hope I didn't, and I hope I don't.
I also hope cinema gets a lot better. I think it might just do the opposite.
Please keep releasing the classics on DVD!
Speaking of classics. My father called me (possibly sensing my impending doom because of bad movies) and informed me King Of Hearts was on at nine...And he had dug about and found my battered copy of Snoopy Come Home which I had been sobbing over. I didn't woohoo. I did jump and thank him excitedly. Then I did the horrible bobble head dance I hope no one ever witnesses!
King Of Hearts was excellent. I loved it! And my complete adoration for Alan Bates only grows and grows and grows...