Draped over a divan of cinema chairs, jackets, and pre-packed contraband cookies and coke, I took it upon myself to sit back and chew the millennial cud. Harmony Korin's latest, Spring Breakers, Scarface for the Hello Kitty generation, was about to start its cheerful jaunt down the beachwalks of depravity, and my critical faculty was set to slowcooker poignant.
THE PREVIEWS
As I said, the world was on the brink of destruction, as per usual. I did not need Rob Stewart to remind me, with all the eloquence of a beached lawnmower, that I needed to begin "engaging with different governments, engaging with different corporations". The 8th graders sitting behind who snuck in to the movie might have sympathized with his "pothead high schooler reading Hamlet aloud in class" delivery of what may very well have been a new Declaration of the Rights of Mermaids...I remained, beyond passive, annoyed. If he was going to start me thinking seriously about evolution (insert big red "R" before previous word in 2 seconds), he could have at least had the decency to be ugly.
Does it not seem that we are getting a little lazy in our Jeremiads? I am not saying it isn't appropriate to address the question of inevitable human destruction in the cinema. Far from it. I am more concerned with what I detect to be an odious optimism in the film's preview. I posit that there are certain epic conventions that come with attempting to agitate by means of propaganda. These conventions are as sacred as the Three Unities, and ought never to be tampered with. They include:
- Shrill organ music
- Intertitles with nonsensical French slogans
- Sweaty Arabic politicians listing off complaints on their fingers
- V for Vendetta masks
- Cheeky animated depictions of the "oil situation"
- Bearded eastern European professors who harangue with poop jokes
- Black and white only
- An utter pessimism tempered only with off-colour innuendo
Well, I was in such a tizzy, that it took a whole half hour into Spring Breakers to realize most of my grievances were dissipating through the varieties of religious experiences jiggling before my eyes, and the transcendental empiricism of James Franco's marvelous dental situation.
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| I got … I got SHORTS! Every fuckin' color. |
"Well now," I said to myself, "This is how the world should end. Not with a whimper, but with a bang bang bang bang pew pew bang slap stab bang!"
Perhaps some of the optimists among you disagree. Perhaps you really are motivated by films that do well "in Vancouver", that depict a chance for the human race beyond the "artisan grilled-cheese sandwiches until cannibalism" esprit du temps.
I'm not asking you how you'd like your planet. I'm asking you how you like your movies. Remember when the world was going to end in the 60's?
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