The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus

Last night I watched The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus (2010) and had one of those kismet moments. This film essentially touches on all the ideas I’ve been exploring in my work lately. Imagination, Dreams, Utopias, Escapes. The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus is whimsical, visually stunning, while metaphysically thought provoking and challenging.  It is eye candy for the impoverished imaginative soul. Terry Gilliam, who directed and co-wrote the film with Charles McKeown, presents a somewhat autobiographical story about the aging Dr. Parnassus who dreams of a world ruled by the imagination.
Set in contemporary London, the film follows a wandering band of gypsies who perform atop a theatrical caravan, seeking to enchant the public with the power of the imagination. During their performances, the troupe tries to entice people on stage to enter the mirror into Dr. Parnassus’ imagination. Going through the mirror, the participants enter the realms of their imagination, a world generated by their own minds. Once there, the participants are presented with a choice, go up the stairs to fully ascend into the imagination of Dr. Parnassus, or retreat to the distractions of the contemporary material world, represented as a bar and seedy motel in the film.  The participants must make a choice between sin and greed or imagination and enlightenment.  These choices are presented by Dr. Parnassus, on the side of the imagination, and his nemesis Mr. Nick, a devilish man in a bowler hat, who represents the darker side of scientific reason, capitalism, and modern progress. The participants choose not only between good and evil, but between imagination and reason.  The film presents the imagination as the supreme path to enlightenment and transformation. However, set in the contemporary moment, the film shows how Dr. Parnassus and imagination are losing in their immortal battle against Mr. Nick and the stampede of progress in the name of scientific reason and efficiency. Dr. Parnassus’ ability to enchant the world is strained under the current modern conditions, and the theatre troupe is cast on the margins of society. Yet, there is hope as Dr. Parnassus learns to adapt to the modern world, trying new methods of enticing the imagination of contemporary society.   

This is a story of dream worlds, of utopian Ideal Homes, and how the imagination serves as a vehicle of fantastical escape.  Gilliam’s aim for the film is to get us to dream again, to let our minds travel in the realms of the imagination. His stunning cinematography, with the exception of some low budget CGI scenes, fantastical costume and set design, and poetic dialogue mesmerizes viewers, leading us willingly through the magical mirror into Dr. Parnassus’ imagination. 

For a more complete plot summary or reviews, click on the links.

Image Credits:The Imaginarium; Valentina

Reality on TV

"We nevertheless seek new means of creating the real"
 - David Shields, Reality Hunger, 2010

In Reality Hunger (2010), cultural theorist David Shields explores the rise of our “reality” obsessed media culture and its effect on our notions of the “real” and “true.”  Anyone who hasn’t been hiding under a rock the last 10 years knows that reality TV shows have become an American obsession, making up a significant portion of television broadcasts. Reality TV, as a genre, claims to depict non-actors reacting unscripted to different ‘real-life’ situations.  The reality TV genre promises a voyeuristic glimpse into the Real Lives of others.  Yet, as reality TV fans know, most shows are far from unscripted and unstaged. Rather, these reality TV shows present often highly sensationalized versions of “reality.”  Carefully produced and edited to attract viewers and generate advertising revenue, reality TV shows are only constructed representations of the situations and people they depict.  In framing “reality” in a certain light through the production and editing process, these shows do not show “reality” any better than fictional sitcoms.  Yet, for many viewers, there remains a desire for these shows to depict “reality,” to get as close to the Real as possible.  Why do we have this desire to see “reality” depicted on screen?  And what do we mean by the Real?

As David Shields notes in Reality Hunger, our contemporary American culture is captivated by “the lure and blur of the real” (5).  Shields suggests this desire to know and depict the real through artistic representation is a fundamental part of human society.   Drawing examples from Chekhov, Forster, Fitzgerald to Curb Your Enthusiasm, he claims, “Every artistic movement from the beginning of time is an attempt to figure out a way to smuggle more of what the artist thinks is reality into the work of art” (3). Shields argues that all art forms, even the most abstract, are manipulations of reality based on how the individual artist views the world (20). If reality is based on our individual perspective of the world formed by our background, experiences, education and values, than all of our realities are different, landing us in the unsteady, elusive terrain of perspectivism and relativism.  In this relative understanding of reality, we can see what Shields calls the “blur of the real.” This is not to say that we do not share common views on reality; social groupings of people based on shared views and values prove that we share some overlapping realities. Although we cannot claim there is a universal Reality shared by all, we continue to long for a connection to a realized, complete Reality.  We want the Real. We want to feel it. To experience reality’s realness.  So we seek it out through media representations and consumer products, which sell us produced, packaged versions of Reality.  But, what has convinced us that we, as living, breathing, feeling humans, do not already have access to this Real?

There’s profit to be made in selling humans the idea of reality.  Convince us that what we are experiencing is not real enough, and sell us what will help us get there.   Promoting their new 3D LED television, Samsung claims to bring the reality of a live soccer match to your home.

                          

                                           Samsung Soccer Mural Full Commercial - 3D LED TV

“Ever wonder if a picture could feel more like the real thing? We did. This changes the game. The Samsung 3D LED TV. Live sports in cutting edge clarity. Colors as intense as the game itself. And 3D that brings it all home. That's the wonder of Samsung.”

Samsung’s 3D LED television promises picture quality that is as “real” as the game itself.  As consumers, we’ve been trained to want a picture to appear and feel like the real thing.  Bringing us closer to “reality,” we experience a heightened connection to the representation.  Samsung suggests that we will no longer just watch TV, but we will experience the game in all of its actual intensity and immediacy.  3D televisions promise a more total sensory experience than their soon-to-be-outdated counterparts.  Like reality TV, these new technologies promise greater access to the Real than ever before.  But can they really deliver on these promises, when “reality” itself is a relative, perspective-based, elusive experience that no one can completely capture or represent?  What happens when we, as individuals and as a culture, accept these technological, mediated representations as the dominant and pure “reality”?  What are we escaping from when we’d rather choose to watch “reality” on TV rather than live in it?



Shields, David. Reality Hunger: A Manifesto. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2010. Print.
"Samsung Soccer Mural." Commercial. You Tube. 14 June 2010. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sypGYRwrIKY&feature=youtu.be

Escapes

As the name of this blog suggests, I’m interested in escape as a human activity. People seem to seek out and/or create many mental escapes from their everyday realities. Literature, film, TV, internet, music, sports, games, drugs, meditation, even dreaming while asleep, all of these activities provide an escape for people. This is certainly not a new idea, but what I’m interested in is what characterizes our contemporary escapes. What are we escaping from? What do we use to escape? And what does this process of escape entail?

But let’s back up for a moment. What do I mean by escape? When we read a book or watch a film, we become invested in the lives of the characters. We follow their stories and, depending on the quality of the book or film, we become emotionally invested, feeling emotions along with the characters on page or on screen. In the span of reading or viewing, we mentally live through the life of another. Through this mental activity, we imagine another world, another life than our own. As we imagine this other world, peopled by the characters of the book or movie, we transcend our own everyday reality. We become caught up in the story of another so much that we temporarily forget our own realities. We can lose ourselves in the book, movie, or TV show. For me, this is a form of escape. We escape into books, film, and other cultural works in order to partially and temporarily leave our own realities.

This escape is not a mindless pursuit. It is more than just vegging out, zombie-like, in front of the TV. Rather, our mind is processing the representation; our mind thinks, and our bodies begin to feel different emotions as we become invested in the work (see my earlier post on the emotions of sports). Books, TV, film, etc., these artistic representations engage both our mind and bodies, and we begin to live through the representation. We stop participating in our everyday lives, and start living through the life on screen or on the page. We mentally inhabit another’s life and the world in which they exist, which provides a temporary escape from participating in our own individual reality. During these mental escapes, our mind and bodies actively engage with the book, movie, show, or song as representations of an alternative reality. These alternative realities can range from the fantastical worlds of science fiction to the more realist depictions of people in communities other than our own. These artistic representations of other worlds, both real and fantastical, have existed throughout the long and diverse history of human cultures, and seem to fulfill a fundamental human need to mentally leave our actual realities and inhabit the lives of others. But, why do we desire to escape into the lives of others? And, what happens when we live too much through the alternative realities offered by these representations, and lose touch with the Real? These are some of the questions that I'll be exploring in my posts this week.

Sports Identification

This first post comes from a budding interest in sports, Chuck Klosterman’s Eating the Dinosaur, and many late night talks with Nate.

This is an exercise in extending ideas I have about why we read books, watch films, listen to music, or look at photographs, paintings, etc. We have a culture filled with these aesthetic objects that represent aspects of human life. Yet, it is still unclear to me, why they exist. What human need do these representations fulfill? We experience works of art and culture through our bodily senses and process them through the mind. As we read, view, and listen to these works, we both feel and think. Do works of art and culture fulfill (evolutionary) emotional and/or intellectual needs for humans? Why do we find pleasure in experiencing these works, especially the ones that may bring us grief or frustration? These are some of the larger questions that will fuel the following exploration into sports culture.

Nate is teaching me to pay attention to the 3-Dimensional elements of sports. Beyond each official sports matchup, TV and radio stations broadcast a multitude of human stories. These broadcasts tell viewers stories about the individual lives of the sports figures we root for. As we watch these stories, we begin to identify with the sports figures. They become not only players on a sports team, but public figures whose lives some fans know more intimately than that of their own neighbors. We choose favorite sports players, not solely based on their physical prowess, but also on their personal values and actions as represented on ESPN and in Sports Illustrated. If we share the same values, we recognize aspects of ourselves in these sports figures. As their public images saturate sports broadcasting, we feel as if we know Ray Allen, Paul Pierce, Tom Brady, or Tiger Woods. But, do we?

In Eating the Dinosaur (2009), Chuck Klosterman highlights how a media driven sports community creates fields of expectation that often eclipse the reality of an actual sports player’s skills and accomplishments. Klosterman uses the example of Houston Rocket’s Ralph Sampson, whose impressive physical build (7-foot-4) and finesse made sports commentators and fans believe Sampson would “revolutionize the game.” While Sampson had a solid career in the NBA, he ultimately did not meet the high expectations of fans and critics. Yet, as Klosterman points out, fans only saw the media’s representation of Sampson’s unfulfilled promise, ignoring the reality of Sampson’s actual accomplishments (three-time College Player of the Year, four-time NBA All Star). Fans felt personally disappointed by Sampson; but why? Why do sports fans have personal investments in players? What purpose does this emotional investment serve?


In the 30 for 30 ESPN Film, Without Bias, Kirk Fraser tells the tragic story of Len Bias, the University of Maryland basketball star who died of a cocaine overdose two days after he was selected as the Celtic’s 1986 draft pick. Bias’ death affected not only those in his local community, but much of the nation. Fans across the country grieved for the death of Len Bias. I want to take a moment to look at this phenomenon. By varying degrees, fans watched Len Bias play throughout his college career and rooted for his draft success. Bias seemed to be a player destined for greatness. Fans were emotionally invested in Bias’ public persona and thus grieved his death as if they knew Bias personally. Yet, we must remember that most fans likely only knew Bias through broadcasts of the game, TV interviews and segments on his career. These broadcasts were only representations of Len Bias. Recorded, edited, and televised, these media-constructed representations can only depict a partial picture of Bias. Fans watch and identify with these representations and become invested in the fates of these public sports figures. We grieve for the loss of Len Bias because we recognize the potential for unfulfilled promise in our own lives. As I watched the documentary on Bias’ death, Fraser’s detailed storytelling made me grieve for Bias, and even though his death does not affect my daily life, I felt this grief both bodily and mentally. In watching films or in watching sports, we experience a range of human emotions from jubilation when our team wins to frustration and grief when they lose. When our team loses, we feel as if we lost. This identification with sports figures is much like our identification with certain characters in books and films. And I believe it serves a fundamental human purpose.

When we identify with these public figures, we allow ourselves to feel a range of human emotions through these figures. We emotionally invest in these sports players. Through this emotional investment, we use these people to dream, to play out our desires and fantasies. Who hasn’t dreamed of becoming a sports superstar? Their sports victories become our victories; their losses (and tragedies in the case of Bias) become ours. Yet, why do humans want to feel these emotions, which are experienced not directly through our own lives, but through the lives of others? We experience joy, grief, frustration, camaraderie. It seems we learn from living emotionally and intellectually with these public figures. This form of empathy (identifying with the emotions of others) is valuable. It allows us to recognize the humanity in other people, a cognitive skill that has value far beyond sports. By experiencing these emotions through the lives of others, we practice feeling emotions that will help prepare us for our “real” life victories and losses. In watching sports, we practice being human.

Note: I'll admit I'm new to this sports fan world, so this is just an idea of how sports identification works. Sports fans, please set me straight if I am way off here!