Owlwise's Replies


To me, the B&W works beautifully, giving it a stark & powerful emotional tone & look. Color would have made it a very different film. And a lesser one, I think. I always had the sense of Tom being an embodiment of Nature, which has no concepts of Good & Evil, but simply <b>is</b>. He's also spoken of as Eldest, a being who was there before the first dark lord Morgoth, Sauron's master, came to Middle-Earth. So from Tom's eons-long perspective, even a dark lord is a passing thing, a perhaps inevitable part of the flawed world, but ultimately always a temporary one. Which is immensely difficult for beings like ourselves to understand, beings who see & live in the immediate, the Now, I'll grant you. And as for "flawed"—Tolkien makes clear in <i>The Silmarillion</i> that even the "flaw" was foreseen by The One & woven into the primal design of creation. In which case Tom's existence & his long perspective are also part of that primal design, with a purpose known to The One, if not to us. That's fair enough & I'm certainly not going to attack you for it. There's too much of that sort of thing online anyway. I don't want to add to it. Absolutely agree! In fact, the quiet, slow introduction to the peaceful Shire, with the first hints of something bigger & more ominous outside, has its own subtle power. We get to know & feel the daily flow of life there, the tranquil & pastoral landscape ... and ever so steadily, almost unseen at first, the presence of the greater world begins to make itself known. Those second-hand reports of the Black Riders by Frodo's friends, having just missed catching up to him but clearly getting closer & closer, gives an undercurrent of tension & dread. And then their first on-page appearance--brrrr! I have to disagree, Tom Bombadil is a reminder that there's more to Middle-Earth than even the wisest know. He's a counterpoint to Sauron & Saruman & all who seek power over others; they're grimly serious, he's filled with merriment. That doesn't make him silly, but rather much wiser than all would-be power-seekers. In a way, he reminds me of the happiness that radiates from someone like the Dalai Lama, precisely because he has rejected the pursuit of power & control ... and yet even the High Elves & Gandalf speak of Tom as being older & more powerful than any of them. I've no doubt your father would be equally proud of you. It gives me joy to note all the little things around me that he would have loved to see, and in fact I almost feel as if I'm noting those things for him, and that he can somehow appreciate them because of that. I feel his presence with me all the time. Agree completely. It makes me miss my father all the more after watching it, and appreciate him all the more as well. I'd give anything to be able to tell him the things I should have & needed to say to him while he was still alive. It also reinforces my wish to honor his memory by trying to be as decant & caring a man as he was. It holds up beautifully for me, especially as I get older, closer to my father's age than I ever expected to be. :) This is excellent advice. If that's your choice. You can choose differently, you know. But it takes work. When I was young, I'd blame others for what were really my own flaws. The day I started taking an honest look at myself and seeing that I was responsible for much of my own unhappiness, not others, was the day I started to genuinely grow up. I didn't like having to face myself that honestly, either. It was embarrassing & humbling to have to admit to my willing complicity in being unhappy with myself. But it changed my life for the better—much better! I think Neil's father honestly believed that he was doing his best for his son … but he couldn't see that he was trying to make his son live out his own unrealized hopes & dreams, the things he might have wanted as a young man, but couldn't possibly afford. In his mind, he was doing for his son what he might have wished someone had done for him. In his mind, he was only doing good for Neil. But in doing so, he could never really see Neil as a person in his own right, as someone who might want something different from life. It was unconscious on Mr. Perry's part, he was unaware of his own inner motivation, as he wanted to see himself as doing this wonderful thing for his son—but he couldn't see that he was also doing it for himself. And clearly Mr. Perry was driven, perhaps even more so than the fathers of the other boys. I get the feeling that those other fathers, no matter how much they assumed their sons would follow in their footsteps, didn't begrudge their sons enjoying things like acting in school plays, or being in the band, or whatever else they might want to do, so long as it didn't affect their grades. Neil's father had something that he desperately needed to prove that those other fathers didn't have to—and that drove him to rigidly control Neil as much as he could, without being able to see that he was actually hurting Neil more than helping him. In a very real way, he didn't <b>see</b> Neil, he only saw himself. He wasn't a monster. He was simply lacking in self-awareness … and that had tragic consequences. But would they have been happy as doctors, lawyers & businessmen? Not all of them. And missing the chance to become your true self would eventually return to haunt them. Privilege & money don't necessarily protect people from a loss of self. They might bury & repress it for a time, but all too often, it returns as a sense of emptiness, an opportunity missed, later in life. In short, it's important for everyone to have the chance to be true to themselves. Privilege does give some people a leg up, I'll give you that … but at the same time, it can also be a comfortably numb prison that prevents real personal growth & wholeness. It's not a guarantee of "success" in the deepest sense of the word by any means. When you reach the age of its characters, you might feel differently. The acting is somewhat stylized & over the top by usual standards, but I think it works for this larger than life, operatic, dreamlike film. These are figures of legend, still halfway in the realm of the mythic; their language should reflect that, being primal & poetic & intense & "unrealistic" for maximum effect. At least, that's how it's always struck me. Unless you're the one dying, then it is "so much" after all. An immensely underrated actor who's been good in everything he's done, which covers quite a wide range of roles. I'd especially like to call attention to his role as George Orr in the fine 1980 PBS film-for-TV The Lathe of Heaven. He embodies the character's mixture of initial meekness & confusion, and then his growing strength & quiet, humble but firm self-confidence, to perfection. The length & measured pace of the film is quite intentional, in order to make the viewers feel the immensity of space & time: the essence of infinity, really. And also to reminder the viewers that all of human history is but the blink of an eye against that immensity. Yet we also have the potential to understand & grasp far more of that immensity than we might imagine. The question is, will we ever realize that potential? Yes, 2001 demands more than most films do. But it also rewards more than most films do, at least for those who are willing to immerse themselves in the experience, give themselves over to it. The fact that it's the rarest of things, the pure Art film that was also a popular success, invites rather than excludes the general viewer. But it respects the intelligence & depth of feeling of that viewer, too: no spoon-feeding of answers, no concessions to formula. And that in itself reflects the essence of the story being told: we must rise to the challenge of the unknown in order to evolve & grow, as humanity does in the film. I think that shorter attention spans have a lot to do with it, in that younger viewers have grown up with incredibly quick cuts & constant movement, always something to keep the eyes darting from one thing to the next. It's not their fault; this is the norm for them. But it's also an extremely restrictive, narrow way of experiencing films. My wife & I happened to re-watch 2001 last night. The "slow" pace is better called "measured & reflective" to my mind. It's not too slow at all, but rather just right. It both conveys the cosmic pace of time & the vastness of the Universe, while also letting the viewer become immersed in the film, to not only register but experience to some extent that vastness of time & space. And of course the sheer beauty of the visuals is something to be taken in with more than a darting glance, too. Personally, I can't think of too many films that present such Big Ideas in such a beautiful & deeply moving manner. Remember the opening narration from The Outer Limits? "You are about to experience the awe and mystery which reaches from the inner mind to the outer limits." That's what 2001 does completely & magnificently. You know, I think I was trying to say something similar, just from a different direction. It's definitely not a film for everyone, especially for those who don't want or like the demands it makes of its viewers. I often recommend that such viewers return to it in a few years & see if they feel any differently about it then. Some don't, some do. It took me time to catch up with some wonderful movies that I first saw when I more callow & just not ready for them! :) I just can't be that harsh with those who, for whatever reasons, don't or can't appreciate & love the same films that I do. There ARE different personality types, and different tastes, and different expectations among film viewers, after all. I agree, some films have more substance than others, and they often demand more from viewers than others. Those tend to be among the films that I love & cherish the most -- films with emotional, psychological depth & often with spiritual meaning -- films that I love & respect with a passion. But I can't condemn anyone out of hand for not having the same experience as I did in viewing them. I might well argue for the importance & quality of those films, to be sure! In fact, I do. But I'm not likely to convince anyone of that if I'm dismissively looking down my nose at them. That hardly seems in keeping with the spiritual message of those films that we do love so strongly, does it?