Ringu (1998) and The Ring (2002) Compared

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I had recently taken it upon myself to unnecessarily frighten myself by watching two horror movies on back to back nights. Needless to say, I did not sleep well the second night, but the interesting point of it all is that I watched the same movie both nights, kind of. On the first night, I watched The Ring, the 2002 American horror movie directed by Gore Verbinski, and the second night, I watched the 1998 Japanese original. I couldn’t help but compare the two, and now I am here to tell you the similarities and differences between the two, in an effort to discern which of the two I consider to be the superior horror movie.

To start with the similarities, both movies share the same plot and structure; a mysterious VHS tape places a curse on whoever watches it, killing them in 7 days, and the main character, a single mother and investigative journalist in both versions, tries to uncover the secret behind the tape, preferably in 7 days, because she ends up watching the tape and getting cursed herself. Both films follow a very similar three act structure, both follow similar beats, and the characters are, for the most part, pretty similar as well.

Those are the most important similarities, but it’s the differences that I find to be the more interesting topic to discuss, and I will here. The biggest difference between the two that I noticed was how each film dealt with scaring the audience. In Ringu, more focus is put into creating a tense, uncomfortable atmosphere that gradually builds up as the movie progresses, putting the viewer on edge and making the eventual appearance of the Ring girl that much scarier. In The Ring, more emphasis is placed on being overtly scary; there are more objectively “scary” moments here than in the original, and certain scenes are added in to make the film that much scarier. The two films also look very different; Ringu has a more traditional, standard definition look common amongst films of the 90’s, and as a result has more of a low budget look to it, while The Ring has a strong filter that makes the movie appear sickly green, helped by the fact that the movie takes place in Seattle, which is known for frequent rain, and it is indeed raining for most of the movie. This gives The Ring a more high budget look as well as a more visually unsettling looking movie. There are also some cultural differences that one will pick up on if they watch both movies closely enough, things about Japanese culture that is different from American culture. For example, in America, people typically greet each other by shaking their hand, and this is seen in The Ring, while in Japan, people bow to each other as a form of greeting, and this is shown in Ringu. American and Japanese houses also look quite different; in America, houses generally have more open areas and less walls separating each room, while in Japan, houses are generally more enclosed, with less open space and more walls separating each room. This is something I noticed when I watched both movies, and I found it to be quite interesting.

So, when all is said and done, which movie do I consider to be better? Well, I think it comes down to what kind of movie you want to watch. If you prefer a slower paced movie that focuses more on building up tension over time and establishing an uncomfortable atmosphere, then the Japanese original will be more suited for you. If you prefer your horror movie to be more overtly scary, higher budgeted, and visually unsettling, then the American remake is a better fit for you. Either way, I would highly recommend watching both movies, as both are some of the better horror movies in their respective countries, and both have their own strengths.

1984 Review – The Loss of Freedom and the Obliteration of Reality

~ grantandreakis ~ Leave a comment

What would a world without freedom look like? A world where we have no agency over our lives, a world where you must always operate under the assumption that you are being watched, a world where reality itself seems to bend to the will of tyrants playing God on earth. For some, this harrowing scenario is all too real, an existence typified more by surviving than living, where each day is a struggle to be endured, not an exciting new opportunity to chase. For those of us who have only known freedom and prosperity, it can be hard to even comprehend what such an existence would entail, but for those who wish to understand this plight, there is scarcely a more harrowing road to turn to than George Orwell’s 1984.

From the opening lines of the book, “It was a bright and cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.”, you instantly get a sense that the world we are being presented with is wrong on some fundamental level. For as long as humanity has had a concept of time, we have treated it as something unchangeable, something outside of our control, something that we can only hope to work around, yet this first sentence makes very clear that whoever, or whomever, is in charge sees time simply as another element to be controlled and manipulated, and if this be the case, there is no telling what other seemingly immutable elements of the world have also been brought under the control of a person or persons who see themselves as gods. This idea of absolute power, not just in the traditional political context, but also power over the minds and souls of people, whose worldview can be melded like clay and fashioned into whatever those in power wish it to be, lies at the central core of the book.

The main character, Winston Smith, is not a heroic man, he is simply another cog in the machine that serves at the behest of “Big Brother,” the figurehead everyone recognizes as being the undisputed ruler of his territory. The powerlessness and impotence of Winston Smith is laid bare throughout the novel, for though he harbors a deep hatred of Big Brother, there is absolutely nothing he can do to express his resentments, much less put them into action. Everyone he interacts with throughout the book is either an unthinking stooge for Big Brother, or completely unaware of the workings of Big Brother. Even when he finally finds someone who shares in his dislike for Big Brother, that persons dislike is formed from only the most basic, superficial assumptions, which fall far short of Winston’s deep ideological dislike of Big Brother.

An overwhelming sense of hopelessness pervades almost the entirety of the novel. No matter where Winston turns to, tries to accomplish, or even attempt to understand the world he lives in, he just runs into wall after wall after wall. He knows that the government, which is referred to in book as “The Party”, is manipulating and distorting reality and the past in order to maintain its grip over the populace. One of the stand out quotes of the book, one that informs so much about how The Party operates, is, “Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past.” You see this line of thinking in everything The Party does through its deliberate falsification of the past in order to justify its control in the present. Past military defeats are turned into victories, alliances with certain countries are broken and never acknowledged. The country that Winston lives in, Oceania, is in a permanent state of war with one of two countries, Eurasia and Eastasia, and whichever of these two countries Oceania is at war with, The Party will say that Oceania has always been at war with that country since the beginning of time, even if, in reality, Oceania was in an alliance with that very country no more than two months ago against the other country.

Overt distortion of the past is central to the legitimacy of The Party and its right to rule, up to and including vaporizing suspected enemies from existence, not just killing them, but removing every and any trace that that person ever existed, condemning them to the fate of Damnatio Memoriae. In this world, the past, as we know it, does not exist, it exists only to serve the needs of The Party, and when the past becomes malleable, how can one trust one’s own memories? How can we be sure that what we perceive in the present won’t become altered or changed once the present becomes the past? These questions and more are extrapolated upon with such force of intellect and assurance that it can be hard to comprehend that Orwell was born and raised in the U.K., one of the freest societies’ in the world at the time, yet he writes with the perspective of one deeply scarred by the bootheel of totalitarianism.

In the end, what 1984 serves to do is pose as a warning for what can happen if we give ourselves in to the inherent impulse to submit to a higher authority that promises to keep us “safe.” For freedom, in the modern context of which we understand it, is not the natural condition that mankind finds himself in; it has only come about now because man had to struggle and die for it, and if we don’t constantly nurture that flame of freedom, it will be snuffed out by the darkness of totalitarianism. Let this book serve as both a warning for what could happen, and as a point of thankfulness that this is not the condition that we find ourselves in now, at least those of us lucky enough to come from a free society, and let us not forget our fellow man who, even now, finds himself trapped in the darkness, longing for the light that we possess. Let us grant him a torch so that he may see, and no longer be blinded by the totalitarian institutions that seek to forever keep him in the dark.

The Divine Comedy- Rebirth of the Soul through a Journey to Hell

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What does it take for a work of literature to be considered “timeless?” That no matter what age or period in history one lives in, they can pick it up and still feel its power just as strongly as when it was first written? There are many pieces of literature that have, for centuries and even millennia, stood the test of time to become something truly larger than even the author could have predicted, and there are few better examples of writing that have transcended its era to become truly timeless than Dante Alighieri’s The Divine Comedy.

This poem is split into three sections, each covering a different part of Dante’s journey, with the first section detailing Dante’s descent through Hell and the misery he sees, the second section detailing his ascent up the mountain of Purgatory and its role in cleansing sin, with the third and final section detailing his journey through the spheres of Paradise, and his ultimate spiritual enlightenment. There were several things that struck me as I read line after line of this poem, one being the relatively easy to read nature of it. For a piece of literature that was written 800 years ago, I found it surprisingly easy to read and understand, and while a fair bit of that does come down to the translation, do not be scared off from reading this by virtue of its age, its slightly archaic grammar should not be a turn off to most people in the modern day.

But why is this work of literature worth reading today? What justifies its legendary reputation, and is there anything that we can learn from a poem written so long ago that it seems obsolete to even write about now, much less read it? What makes this poem so special to so many people, even now, is that its story is timeless, its themes resonant, and its subject forever relevant. The Divine Comedy is a story about one mans spiritual journey to cleanse himself of the sin and guilt he has built up over his life so he may become pure enough to be re-united with the person that means more to him than anyone else, the saintly and divine Beatrice. Along his journey, he learns the valuable lessons of sticking true to ones faith through adversity, and appreciating what he has while he has it, as the whole reason for his guilt was that he did not value Beatrice while she was alive, and now that he has a chance to be re-united with her, he is willing to trek through the lowest circles of Hell and the highest mountains of Purgatory to do what he should have done long ago. The poem delves into some deep theological discussions, which I do not feel qualified trying to write down here, since I would not do any of them justice, but rest assured that those who are parched for theology in fiction will have their thirst quenched.

For a practicing Christian such as myself, this poem does more than just tell a well written story; it shows us that we, fallible human beings, can be redeemed for our past transgressions, and if we are willing to go the extra mile for our faith and repentance, God will reward us through his everlasting forgiveness. Dante did not have to go on the long, hard, arduous journey that was laid out for him; he could have easily refused to pick up his cross and submit to the human desire to avoid hardship and live the rest of his life with the thought of “What could have been?” overwhelming him. Instead, through his fear and trembling, he accepts the daunting task, and because he was willing to work and suffer for his goal, he is rewarded with bliss and happiness he cannot comprehend. It is a lesson that all should take, even those who are not as spiritual, that it is often the best things in life that we have to work the hardest for, and we should not abdicate our responsibilities to do good and work for our goals because we might have to suffer for them. It is the toughest of times that often produces the most virtuous people, and we should take it upon ourselves to follow the path of Dante, lest we submit to middling mediocrity and meaningless pleasure.

V for Vendetta- An uncomfortable Look at a Sick World

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Have you ever picked up a book or watched a movie where, right from the first page or minute, you can get a good sense of the tone and atmosphere and prepare yourself accordingly? that is what happened to me when I picked up V for Vendetta, written by Alan Moore. From the first few illustrations, I knew that I was in for a dark, foreboding story that would be challenging to read yet rewarding to understand.

The novel follows Evie, a 16 year old girl who becomes involved with the mysterious V, a Guy Fawkes wearing caped crusader who sets out to overthrow the fascist dictatorship that has taken hold in the U.K. One thing that immediately struck me when I opened the novel was the art direction. Unlike the previous Moore novel that I have reviewed, Watchmen, where the illustrations were clean, concise, and detailed, V for Vendetta is, for lack of a better way to describe it, an ugly looking novel. There is a sickly feel to every illustration, often the pictures are jagged and jarring, and a general feeling of discomfort is elicited out of every page. This is not a novel where I particularly like looking at the illustrations, but I feel as if this was an intentional decision made by Moore and the artist, that this is a sick, unhealthy world being portrayed, and the illustrations should show that world as such. Thus, while I can’t say that I particularly enjoy looking at the novel and getting lost in each picture the same way I did in Watchmen, it was very effective in setting the tone and portraying the world the way that Moore intended.

What I can applaud the novel for is its depiction of both V and members of the fascist regime. It would have been so easy for Moore to portray V as a flawless and absolutely heroic freedom fighter, and to dehumanize and demonize those on the side of the fascist regime as reprehensibly evil, but instead, V is shown to be a more morally grey figure who engages in genuine acts of terrorism and psychologically torments Evie, the main character. His end goal is not to establish a democratic state, but an anarchic society, which has its own share of problems. On the other hand, the supporters of the fascist regime that the novel focuses on are not reprehensibly evil, but are three dimensional characters with virtues and flaws, believers in the system but not unthinking drones. They are, after all, just people, the same as you and I, and while their beliefs may run starkly counter to our own, it is important to remember that there is a soul in each person, no matter how wicked they may appear to us.

In that sense, the novel transcends its original boundaries of fascism vs anarchism and can easily be used as a lesson to be taught in our modern day culture of political polarization and demonization of the other. No matter how much we may think that other people are reprehensibly evil because their belief system runs counter to ours, we must remember that, were the shoe on the other foot, we would hope that we would be understood and, if not liked, at least respected, because it is precisely this extreme polarization and demonization of the other that allows for societies like the one in V for Vendetta to take hold, and we must never loose our sense of humanity for each other, lest we succumb to suffocating totalitarianism.  

Death Note – or what happens when humans play God

~ grantandreakis ~ Leave a comment

What happens when one person is bequeathed with unimaginable power, the kind of power reserved for only the highest beings of the universe? One could say that there is no greater power that a person could possess than the power over life and death, the power to decide whether a person lives or dies, since life itself is the nexus from which everything in this world springs from, as well as the knowledge that, someday, we will die. Death, and the avoidal of death, drives most of our actions, since most of us desire to live long, healthy lives. But what if one person were given the power to singlehandedly decide the fate of everyone? How would this affect that one person? Would they be able to handle such power responsibly, or would their fallible human nature lead them down a path of corruption and madness? These questions and more are explored brilliantly and thoughtfully in the Japanese anime series Death Note.

The series follows a teenager, Light Yagami, an incredibly intelligent individual who is disillusioned with the state of the world. He sees the world as rotten, full of bad people who commit heinous crimes and get away with it. One day, by happenstance, he comes across a mysterious notebook that, when he opens, he finds a whole list of rules for how the notebook works, the most important rule being that whoever’s name is written in the notebook will die forty seconds later. There are a bunch of rules specifying exactly how it works and what the semantics are, but the important point is that this teenager, this random person who just happened upon this notebook, has now been granted almost unimaginable power. He tests it out to ensure that it works, and when it does, the full realization of what he has been granted hits him like a load of bricks. From that point, he makes a decision; he is going to use the death note to kill people he considers to be evil and wicked, and create a new world where only the righteous and good get to live, with him ruling this world as basically a god, the ultimate arbiter of life and death. Of course, once a whole lot of people start mysteriously dying en masse, the international community demands that something be done, and so an elite task force based in Japan is formed, tasked with catching whoever is responsible for the sudden surge in deaths, with the investigation being headed by a genius detective whose intellectual capabilities rival, and possibly even surpass that of Light, and of which this detective is known only by his pseudonym, L. The rest of the show becomes a cat and mouse chase where Light is trying both to kill what he considers to be wicked people without getting caught, and discovering the identity of L so he can kill him. Meanwhile, L and his task force are trying to figure out who the killer is and catch him, where if Light is caught, he will surely be executed.

Now, there is a lot I could get into with this show, but I want to focus on one question, one very important question that forms the crux of the show, that question being, is Light Yagami morally correct in doing what he is doing? This is a question that fans of the show have been debating for years, with strong arguments both in favor of and against what Light is doing. The show goes out if its way to point out that, because of Lights actions with the death note, crime rates across the world have dropped substantially, as people are afraid of committing crimes and then dying shortly afterward. An argument could be made that Light is saving the lives of many innocent people who would otherwise have been the victims of violent crimes, and because of this, Light shouldn’t be stopped. In fact, it would be morally wrong to stop Light, since by doing so, the motivation to not commit crimes would disappear, and innocent people would be put at risk again. However, to accept this conclusion would mean putting your absolute trust in one man, one fallible, imperfect man to know exactly who should live and who should die.

As it is made manifest throughout the show, Light Yagami is not a good person. He is incredibly intelligent, to be sure, and, at least in the beginning of the show, has a strong moral code, telling himself that he will only use the death note to kill criminals and other people he considers evil in some way, but therein lies the problem, it is people that he considers evil. Despite waxing poetic about his morals, Light Yagami is still just a person, with all the biases and pre-conceived notions that come with being a person. Alongside that, Light is shown to possess a huge ego, thinking extremely highly of himself, as well as possessing a god complex, as he repeatedly refers to himself as the “god of this world.” With these combinations of factors in mind, it does not take long for Light to start killing people not because they are criminals, but because they oppose him in some way. Eventually, he even starts killing innocent people as long as it helps his goal of attaining complete power for himself. He was willing to bend his morals that he based his usage of the death note on as long as he was the ultimate benefactor. This is the danger that we put ourselves in when we entrust too much power into one persons hands, trusting that they will wield it responsibly, while overlooking the ugly truth of human nature that power is a corrupting force, able to warp the minds of even the most righteous people if given enough time, with the inevitable end result being the destruction of those wielding said power. This is exactly what happens to Light Yagami, who thought of himself as an untouchable god, only to be discovered by the task force sent to catch him, and gunned down like a common criminal, no different than the many, many people who were sent to their deaths by Lights hand.

There are a fair number of people who object to the ending of the show, seeing it as unsatisfying, even frustrating, to see the main character lose in the end, as it feels as if all the time they invested in the show, and in this character, were for naught. It is understandable why people would feel this way, it was my initial gut reaction as well, but having time to put the whole show in context, I don’t think it could have ended any other way. I believe that the main point of the show was not to make us root for Light and hope he wins, but rather to view him as a cautionary tale of what happens when too much power becomes concentrated into one person and what that means both for that person and everyone around them. Light may have produced real, tangible benefits for a lot of people through his use of the death note, but he ultimately became corrupted by the power that he wielded, hurting a lot of innocent people around him through his desire to attain and retain power, and causing his own downfall in the process. Let it be a warning to anyone who feels that certain people should be entrusted with vast amounts of power because they seem “trustworthy” or capable of handling it, because at the end of the day, we are all human, with flaws and imperfections, and we should be cognizant of the limits we have, lest we fly too close to the sun and get burned.

1984 Review – The Loss of Freedom and the Obliteration of Reality

~ grantandreakis ~ Leave a comment

What would a world without freedom look like? A world where we have no agency over our lives, a world where you must always operate under the assumption that you are being watched, a world where reality itself seems to bend to the will of tyrants playing God on earth. For some, this harrowing scenario is all too real, an existence typified more by surviving than living, where each day is a struggle to be endured, not an exciting new opportunity to chase. For those of us who have only known freedom and prosperity, it can be hard to even comprehend what such an existence would entail, but for those who wish to understand this plight, there is scarcely a more harrowing road to turn to than George Orwell’s 1984.

From the opening lines of the book, “It was a bright and cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.”, you instantly get a sense that the world we are being presented with is wrong on some fundamental level. For as long as humanity has had a concept of time, we have treated it as something unchangeable, something outside of our control, something that we can only hope to work around, yet this first sentence makes very clear that whoever, or whomever, is in charge sees time simply as another element to be controlled and manipulated, and if this be the case, there is no telling what other seemingly immutable elements of the world have also been brought under the control of a person or persons who see themselves as gods. This idea of absolute power, not just in the traditional political context, but also power over the minds and souls of people, whose worldview can be melded like clay and fashioned into whatever those in power wish it to be, lies at the central core of the book.

The main character, Winston Smith, is not a heroic man, he is simply another cog in the machine that serves at the behest of “Big Brother,” the figurehead everyone recognizes as being the undisputed ruler of his territory. The powerlessness and impotence of Winston Smith is laid bare throughout the novel, for though he harbors a deep hatred of Big Brother, there is absolutely nothing he can do to express his resentments, much less put them into action. Everyone he interacts with throughout the book is either an unthinking stooge for Big Brother, or completely unaware of the workings of Big Brother. Even when he finally finds someone who shares in his dislike for Big Brother, that persons dislike is formed from only the most basic, superficial assumptions, which fall far short of Winston’s deep ideological dislike of Big Brother.

An overwhelming sense of hopelessness pervades almost the entirety of the novel. No matter where Winston turns to, tries to accomplish, or even attempt to understand the world he lives in, he just runs into wall after wall after wall. He knows that the government, which is referred to in book as “The Party”, is manipulating and distorting reality and the past in order to maintain its grip over the populace. One of the stand out quotes of the book, one that informs so much about how The Party operates, is, “Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past.” You see this line of thinking in everything The Party does through its deliberate falsification of the past in order to justify its control in the present. Past military defeats are turned into victories, alliances with certain countries are broken and never acknowledged. The country that Winston lives in, Oceania, is in a permanent state of war with one of two countries, Eurasia and Eastasia, and whichever of these two countries Oceania is at war with, The Party will say that Oceania has always been at war with that country since the beginning of time, even if, in reality, Oceania was in an alliance with that very country no more than two months ago against the other country.

Overt distortion of the past is central to the legitimacy of The Party and its right to rule, up to and including vaporizing suspected enemies from existence, not just killing them, but removing every and any trace that that person ever existed, condemning them to the fate of Damnatio Memoriae. In this world, the past, as we know it, does not exist, it exists only to serve the needs of The Party, and when the past becomes malleable, how can one trust one’s own memories? How can we be sure that what we perceive in the present won’t become altered or changed once the present becomes the past? These questions and more are extrapolated upon with such force of intellect and assurance that it can be hard to comprehend that Orwell was born and raised in the U.K., one of the freest societies’ in the world at the time, yet he writes with the perspective of one deeply scarred by the bootheel of totalitarianism.

In the end, what 1984 serves to do is pose as a warning for what can happen if we give ourselves in to the inherent impulse to submit to a higher authority that promises to keep us “safe.” For freedom, in the modern context of which we understand it, is not the natural condition that mankind finds himself in; it has only come about now because man had to struggle and die for it, and if we don’t constantly nurture that flame of freedom, it will be snuffed out by the darkness of totalitarianism. Let this book serve as both a warning for what could happen, and as a point of thankfulness that this is not the condition that we find ourselves in now, at least those of us lucky enough to come from a free society, and let us not forget our fellow man who, even now, finds himself trapped in the darkness, longing for the light that we possess. Let us grant him a torch so that he may see, and no longer be blinded by the totalitarian institutions that seek to forever keep him in the dark.

Why do works of fiction move us?

~ grantandreakis ~ Leave a comment

When I was younger, there were a select few books that I loved reading, and would re-read them ad nauseam. One of these books, and perhaps my favorite of the bunch, was The Hatchet, by Gary Paulson. The story is about a young boy whose single engine plane crashes in the middle of the Canadian wilderness, and is forced to survive with nothing but a hatchet to protect himself. I remember the vivid imagery that would pop into my head as I turned from one page to the next, engrossed in this kid’s survival. I felt as if I could feel his hunger and exhaustion, but was also inspired by his sheer will to live, never giving up even in the most harrowing moments of the story. He does eventually get rescued after several weeks alone, and I remember feeling just as relieved as him when the rescue crew finally arrived. The funny thing is, how could I be so engrossed in a story that’s not real, cheer on a character that doesn’t exist? If it’s fictional, why even bother reading it? Are we actually learning anything from a story that never happened, feel emotions for fictional characters that we’ll never meet? This is a problem that I grappled with for years; for a long time, I refused to read any works of fiction, deeming them a waste of time. It was only recently that I truly understood again the value of fiction and why it is important. But what is it about fiction that has the ability to move us, to teach us lessons, to engross us in stories and worlds even when we know that they’re not real? There are several reasons for this, one of them being as an escape. There may be points throughout our days, weeks, months, etc, where we want to get away from the complexities and problems of the real world and instead lose ourselves in a different world, with characters we love to read and watch a setting that we want to know more about, and through this, fiction can be a great way to sustain and keep our mental health healthy. Fiction can also be a great way for us to learn valuable life lessons that can help us get through life easier. When we read about virtuous characters being rewarded for their deeds and bad characters punished for their unjust actions, it reinforces a moral code in us that pushes us to be virtuous in our daily lives, no doubt helping us in the long run. We can learn from the struggles of our main characters, pointing out their flaws in an attempt to better understand not just how the characters can improve, but look for those flaws in ourselves and try to see how we can improve ourselves. Ironically, it can be through the medium of fiction that we can learn the most about the world and ourselves. How to spot characters flaws and if they apply to ourselves, how the world can be perceived through eyes different from our own, even how to survive in the Canadian wilderness, it is precisely because we can learn a lot from fiction which is why we often find it so engrossing and has the ability to move us.

Separating Art from the Artist

~ grantandreakis ~ Leave a comment

This is a subject that has remained pertinent for as long as art has been made. Whether it be through great paintings that move us in a personal way, great music that speaks to us and makes distilled previously unexplainable emotions, or great works of cinema and literature that have the ability to suck us into fantastical worlds and make us care about fictional characters, the best works of art can move us, perhaps even change us, so what happens when the artist behind such incredible creations is someone that you find to be repugnant in one way or another? This is something that no doubt everyone has experienced in one form or another, and I am certainly no exception. When I gaze into the cubist works of Pablo Piccasso, I find them to be strangely comforting, the blocky textures making a whole image turns on emotions and feelings I have a hard time describing, yet how can I enjoy such beautiful works when the man behind them was an avowed marxist who gave his support to a system that trampled millions under the bootheel of tyranny, as well as an infamous misogynist whose relationships with women were often fraught with violence? How can I enjoy such masterpieces of cinema as “Chinatown” and “The Pianist” when the man responsible for such films is a convicted rapist? How can I listen to such classic hits like “Billie Jean” and “Thriller” when the man behind these songs was a known pedophile? Is it possible to enjoy genuinely great works of art when those behind the art are seriously flawed? Would we just be endorsing those people whom we want nothing to do with by consuming and enjoying their art? Is it even possible to separate art from artist, since the art, by virtue of its having been created by said artist, is inexorably linked to them? While it may seem like a tough ordeal, I believe that the answer is yes, that it is perfectly possible to enjoy and consume works of art independently of those who created them. We all take our own meaning from certain works of art, whether they be paintings, literature, music, or movies, and they have the ability to affect us in their own ways, and what we take from these works will be different for each of us. When I get lost in a cubist Piccasso painting, I ascribe my own meaning and my own enjoyment of that painting independent of Piccasso himself. I enjoy it for how it makes me feel, not because I necessarily like the man who painted it. Similarly, when I consume great works of cinema or literature, I derive my enjoyment from them for their gripping stories and engaging characters, not necessarily because I care who wrote or directed it. While an admiration for the artist can certainly help in your enjoyment of their work, it is not required. Derive your own meaning and appreciation from these works. Let them touch you in a way unique to your sensibilities, because in the end, the whole purpose of art is to touch us, to make us feel certain emotions and make the complexities and burdens of life more bearable. I don’t have to agree with Piccasso’s political views to enjoy and find meaning in his art; as long as a work of art means something to us, we should enjoy it, for life is already full of trouble and heartache, and finding our escape from these troubles can go a long way towards helping us get through life easier.

The Watchmen- A Deconstruction of Superheroes, and why they are more Human than Super.

~ grantandreakis ~ Leave a comment

It has been a long time since I’ve read a fictional book that genuinely engaged me, page to page, and while some have come close, “Watchmen” has rekindled what I thought was a long extinguished love for fiction. From the very first panel, the book grips you with gorgeous illustration after gorgeous illustration, each one intricately drawn with amazing attention to detail. It is easy to get lost in each picture and look at every detail, finding little nuances that a quick glance would easily miss. Each panel feels specially made to serve the overall plot, one which deserves praise for its tone and execution. This is not a light hearted adventure book for kids, but a serious, intricate plot with three dimensional characters. Each character feels distinct and different from one another, with their own backstories, quirks, manner of speaking, and flaws, which are explored in ways that can be uncomfortable to read due to how dark some of them can be, but do a lot to add complexity to already riveting characters. I could almost hear the characters’ voices in my head as I was reading the dialogue, which speaks to the immersity that the book has. The plot is basically a murder mystery, or several murder mysteries; when masked heroes start suddenly dying, our main characters must figure out who is responsible and what their purpose is. When the villain is finally revealed, he gives a massive exposition dump explaining his motives, justifying why he did what he did what the intended consequences of his actions are. It’s a lot to take in, and makes you wonder, because he did a good job justifying himself, whether he is in the right and our heroes in the wrong. Needless to say, the book touches on several heavy subject matters, including sexual assault and whether the ends justify the means. This is a book whose themes I will think about long after I’ve finished it, since it deals with such timeless problems such as man’s cruelty to each other, the inevitability of death, and the existential dread of whether all our accomplishments as a species will be ultimately pointless against the eventual death of Earth. All these problems can be conveyed in fiction in a way that non fiction can’t, since non fiction only deals with these questions in a cold, impersonal way, while fiction can allow us to care about these big subjects through engrossing stories and characters we care about. For a long time, I’ve felt that reading fictional books was a waste of time. “Why read something that’s fake when you can read to learn about the world and history?” I thought. For me, books were strictly a means of obtaining knowledge about the real world, a way for me to soak in information I could use later. I now realize that my thinking was too narrow minded, that in actuality, we can learn a lot from reading fictional books.About philosophy, psychology, the human mind, there are a lot of things we can learn from reading and analyzing the best fictional books from history. None of my conclusions I would have reached were it not for one graphic novel, a style of book I’ve never read, about superheroes, a genre that I’ve never cared for, to open my eyes to the possibilities that great fiction can achieve and how they can affect us. It can truly be from the most unlikely of sources that we can learn the most from and open our eyes to worlds we never thought possible.