The illusory world of the cinema

When terrorists plowed into the Twin Towers with passenger and gasoline filled jet planes about three months ago, Americans couldn't believe their eyes and their ears. 

It might have looked so beautiful when the planes sailed into the building. But it was not a James Cameron film. It was for real with real people dying a real death. How nice it would have been if it were only a film. 

Is there anything beautiful about death and destruction? Only films can create a mental warp to make us accommodate the evil. They make a thing so ugly it becomes beautiful. And we enjoy it.

Thanks to the cinema and the TV, the mind is now full of virtual experiences which even our wildest dreams have failed to produce. Now we can watch the Israelis and the Palestinians slugging it out in our TVs without any feeling of pity from our side. Collapsing buildings, so what? Crashing planes, so what? 

Arnold Schwarzenegger had done it before and we enjoyed the film. If we must grieve, we have to rationalize first. Who was that? A terrorist? But as long as it is far away from our backyard, it becomes very difficult to attempt any sort of rationalization.

So much so that development films or documents are becoming a rarity nowadays. Bring out the sensational, the rabble shouts! To hell with nation building and emergency aid.

What exactly does a film do to our mind? In what way does it really affect it? 

When I was a kid, I was particularly attached to the dying people in the film. I knew they were actors and that they were faking it. But they were dying all the same. They were alive in my mind and then they suddenly died in my mind. What difference did it make whether some existed in the celluloid and others walked in my neighborhood. 

The mind sometimes is unable to differentiate between fact and fiction. And there are moments when fiction becomes more real than fact. 

For example, films can make sex look safe all the time with the scandalous going unpunished. In fact the more sexy the film, the more the income. The more gore put into the film, the higher the box-office rating. Really, this is one example of good blood money if there was ever one. And the actors are paid the wages of sin.

Nowadays, they seem to be revising old and respectable films to make fast money. It is very simple: you just remember a very old but interesting film that didn't make it to the top. What was wrong with it? Stupid! They forgot to put the correct ingredients to start it on its flight. What ingredients? Sex, violence, murder, bad language, and why not, a bit of philosophizing to appeal to the educated. 

When I saw Titanic, I said to myself, Is this the real message of the last century's greatest tragedy? Was it not about hubris? The latter-day Tower of Babel? But to some enterprising Hollywood producers it was not.

" What is it that you liked about it?" I asked my friend.

" There was a social philosophy about the poor passenger falling in love with an aristocratic lady…" 

I am fed up with such explanations. I told my friend he can like the film in anyway he liked but please not on philosophical grounds. If anyone has learned anything from that film, it is coveting somebody else's fiancée. I know a lot of people do not agree with me on this point. But I have seen thousands of films to distinguish bad ones from good ones. I know morality when I see one.

I like films that bring forth the noble in man. But what can you expect from most producers who are anything but noble. They labor in vain for money and fame. Their films are the products of their minds.

And now I hear they did the same to Pearl Harbor. The next thing we know, they might try it with the Ten Commandments, not that it didn't make it in its day, but they might try just to see the effect.

I grew up watching film good or bad. I don't know the effect of decades of Cinemania in my character. But I feel that no good comes out of watching films indiscriminately. 

The disease of illusion is the first to strike. It starts the moment you come out of the movie house. For one or two hours you have been bombarded with all types of visual information beyond your capacity. Information laced with all sorts of bias, anger, envy, violence, sex, etc. So much so that you think the world of the cinema has extended to the real world. 

You walk the street alone, homeward bound. It is late in the night. You are not Errol Flynn anymore. Judy Garland is not going to return your love. You are not Bruce Lee. Tarzan of the Apes is not coming out of the treetops to save you. At the slightest sound of footsteps behind, you shiver. Is it the Jack the Ripper? Can I avoid him by becoming the Invisible man, or dart to the nearest telephone booth, change into a special outfit and fly to safety?

And then you suddenly remember about the composition assignment for the next day. The topic is 'An imaginary trip to the moon'. You have the film to copy from.

The sound of gunshots and explosions is not good to listen to. Especially during nights. During the Derg time, this was common. Sometimes, the shootout was just in your vicinity. Your reaction was either to fight or to flee. But there was another option; you can relive a war film that you have seen in the past. Such sinister memories blunt the pain of fear. It is like drinking a glass of Cognac. Both create illusion. But when the Derg's SS come in the morning to take you, harsh truth will be waiting for you outside, ready to nudge you off your slumber. 

The second attack comes to destroy your imagination. Any film you watch subtracts something from your repertoire of imagination. It erases useful images and drains the soul of its fancies. 

In this, the TV is also an accomplice. It is good to let your imagination run wild the way you want it. Unbound and free, it can explore the universe and delve into the secrets of nature. But, just sit and try to watch a film. Instantly, the mind locks the department of imagination and tosses the key out the window. And heaps of garbage begin to fill your mind. 

The last trace of your imagination is polluted, and the next time you try to think, you get mental constipation. 

I remember an interesting event that took place a long time ago when my friend Robel got married and rented a beautiful villa. We used to go there for fun and drinks. He had been sort of playboy before falling into a marital snare. But above all, he loved films. American films. Gangster films to be precise. They taught him how to make fast money: by stealing it if he could. They showed him how to slug nagging wives and humiliate unwanted friends. He lived in a film world inhabited by superstars and their drug addicted wives.

He had bought a bar (buffet with drinks) to impress us. I asked him why he bought it. He told me he needed some drinks to sooth himself after a quarrel with his wife. He slapped his wife on many occasions and would take a drink to forget. I knew he was imitating some Hollywood actors. Don't know whom. But he was imitating just the same. He could have used his imagination and used a stick or a club instead, I said to myself without understanding the folly of my tacit suggestions. 

How about Eritrean films (videos)? Should we send our children to watch them? Not all of them of course. The reason is that our films are for the most part simply poor western imitations. I have seen so many lousy western love films to try and watch them in poor Eritrean version. What does one learn from films that often focus on marital infidelity, premarital love, and dreamy love stories? Hollywood has them by the thousands. And they are cheaper to import than wasting one's time to produce their likes.

I have yet to see realistic films that represent our culture and our identity with no exaggeration for propaganda. The portrait of Truth doesn't need decorated frames. Our history and our culture is beautiful as it is.

Finally, I would like to say that most films tend to destroy the imagination. But there are a few good films that inspire and boost the imagination. We should learn to know the difference. 

Society & Culture No. 3