What can we do on our own? What can we do in small groups? How do we enlarge a creative culture which recognizes common cause even without coordination?
What can we do to work with other agents of change from completely different backgrounds, with completely different skills? How can we work together?
I’m not talking about abstract ideas. I’m talking about concrete work.
What the products of that work will be is up to us.
But I have to do something more than what I’m doing, and art is what I’m good at.
If you’re reading this, and you feel this, then let’s start with this question: how can we help?
Thus begins the work.
Everybody on FB is all gaga over Twin Peaks coming back.
I can not overemphasize the limitlessness of my not-caring.
David Lynch is the single most overrated director of all time, and nothing he’s done outside of The Elephant Man and maybe Blue Velvet (despite its many ugly moments) merits any serious consideration.
The fetishization of all of his curious little conceits elicits a kind of aesthetic fatigue measurable in light years, and if I have to see one more stupid shared post with a still from this show, with some caption assuming we’re all stoked, I will…I will…
I really need to leave the interwebs.
I don’t much care about the whole Meryl Streep thing at the Golden Globes, but this piece on her speech and disability is worth rolling in to your consideration of the matter–if you care.
So, yeah, they happened. I don’t really care much either way, but I’m a bit suspicious about how Moonlight earns best dramatic picture, and…nothing else, while LA’s film industry’s trivial little love letter to itself wins…seven.
In my very brief, and graciously engaged conversation with Barry Jenkins a month or so ago, he gently asserted that he’s not in this for the awards. Somehow, I knew this. The film is too good, its spirit too generous and wise and patient to betray a community of people hungry for awards.
So that the film does or doesn’t win this or that award isn’t terribly important. Time and history will judge the film to be as essential and timeless and important as it exactly is.
But in the context of Oscars so White, something still feels amiss.
I’m suspicious that the Globes gave the best picture award to Moonlight, because they felt like they had to, but then went back to all the usual stuff, as if to suggest it had done its moral duty.
Maybe I’m wrong. The Globes did pay mind to Fences and Atlanta and Hidden Figures.
Those seven awards for La La Land are looking pretty damned white.
And Casey Affleck?
Nate Parker is eviscerated, his career essentially over, and Affleck gets a pass?
Let’s not even get started with that.