Things That Make Mama Sad
So, Friday night, in an attempt to be a good sport, I agreed to attend a late-opening-night screening of Sin City. Anyone who knows me is well aware that Quentin Tarantino makes me sad. Knowing that he was involved with Sin City made the choice of movies particularly unappealing, but as I said, I was trying to be a good sport. And I was holding out hope that the Rodriguez elements would be less horrible. Instead, it would seem that Rodriguez is out to match or surpass his idol Tarantino's now-standard depraved brutality.
Yes, Sin City is stylish, but it's not especially new style (A-Ha did it better in their video of Take on Me way back in '85). It's digitally filmed, part live-action/part animation, black and white with occasional, specific color -- big sad/sexy eyes are green or blue, the blood is mostly red (and there's no shortage). A few scenes are visually stunning, but the comic-book-brought-to-life effect isn't compelling enough to compensate for a completely dead feel throughout, and the constant post-gratuitous violence. All the women in the movie are prostitutes, though they will no doubt be described as "strong women" by folks who want to sidestep the glaring reality behind the wimmin-folks' weaponry. Yes, they are "allowed" to control their inner-city neighborhood (Old Town, watch out), but only because of certain service-related arrangements they've made with the cops, the mob, even the clergy. Many are as violent as the men, in fact their sexuality is inextricably bound to their violence (ooh, it's hot when babes can disembowel), but the girls don't call any of the shots. They are of a low caste, confined to a neighborhood/ghetto always on the verge of violent management change.
Listening to people laugh, on cue, during all the gruesome moments, just makes me feel sick. I do realize there are lots of reasons why people laugh at inappropriate things. I study sick joke cycles; I get it. But despite all the "personal responsibility" arguments that advance the opinion that movies/music/TV/video games/etc. don't cause good people to do bad things, it seems bloody obvious that the numbing effect of this kind of sick violence and mysogyny can't help. And the bravado of the punks standing outside following the film, as I awaited the emergence of my date from the men's room, should surprise no one, and worry everyone. A small group of fans I overheard were discussing their need to "go beat somebody up" to round out an entertaining evening. Yay.
Yes, Sin City is stylish, but it's not especially new style (A-Ha did it better in their video of Take on Me way back in '85). It's digitally filmed, part live-action/part animation, black and white with occasional, specific color -- big sad/sexy eyes are green or blue, the blood is mostly red (and there's no shortage). A few scenes are visually stunning, but the comic-book-brought-to-life effect isn't compelling enough to compensate for a completely dead feel throughout, and the constant post-gratuitous violence. All the women in the movie are prostitutes, though they will no doubt be described as "strong women" by folks who want to sidestep the glaring reality behind the wimmin-folks' weaponry. Yes, they are "allowed" to control their inner-city neighborhood (Old Town, watch out), but only because of certain service-related arrangements they've made with the cops, the mob, even the clergy. Many are as violent as the men, in fact their sexuality is inextricably bound to their violence (ooh, it's hot when babes can disembowel), but the girls don't call any of the shots. They are of a low caste, confined to a neighborhood/ghetto always on the verge of violent management change.
Listening to people laugh, on cue, during all the gruesome moments, just makes me feel sick. I do realize there are lots of reasons why people laugh at inappropriate things. I study sick joke cycles; I get it. But despite all the "personal responsibility" arguments that advance the opinion that movies/music/TV/video games/etc. don't cause good people to do bad things, it seems bloody obvious that the numbing effect of this kind of sick violence and mysogyny can't help. And the bravado of the punks standing outside following the film, as I awaited the emergence of my date from the men's room, should surprise no one, and worry everyone. A small group of fans I overheard were discussing their need to "go beat somebody up" to round out an entertaining evening. Yay.
posted by your mom at 9:28 PM
1 Comments:
My first comments! You are my hero!
And, yeah, there's no doubt a whole flock of people who would respond to this movie with useful introspection rather than blatant violence. I guess I have no faith in many of my fellow humans. But I do see the desensitization in kids, and especially worry about assholes who watch this stuff with their kids around (once the DVD comes out, I imagine horrible things happening in young minds). I am such a mom.
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