Showing posts with label Kevin Smith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kevin Smith. Show all posts
I'll keep this short, as I'm sure you people are tired of hearing me blab on about love and shit (I'll be talking about The Matrix next).
Pragmatism isn't charming. It isn't hopeful though it tells you to hope, it's not consoling though it may help you grieve, it doesn't tell you that you really can get everything you want if you just fight hard enough, although it keeps you fighting anyway, and if you believe that you really do deserve to be loved just as much as the next person, pragmatism is waiting with a needle for your luftballons, "not everyone will find what they want." This said, playing Devil's Advocate on Holden's behalf, what's so wrong with trying to build that happy ending anyway?
The best thing about Chasing Amy - the source of its charm - is how, though the methods may be precious, Kevin Smith takes us fully within the conflicts that threaten the central relationship. With every sentence, the characters define in certain terms where their heads and hearts are, and speak to precisely what's tormenting them, even if they're being obtuse. In that atmosphere of such naked honesty, what's wrong with wanting everything to resolve into something more Disney than Daria? We all know how things are likely to end in the real world, how every committed romance is sure to be hard-won but littered with nothing-fights, miscommunication, unrequited feelings and nasty breakups. We also know how sincerely beautiful loving someone else can be; why not choose the latter?
In terms of Holden's comic, I don't think it represents a "thriving obsession with failed fantasy," as much as it does a bittersweet reality that while people may grow, they never really change. Holden moves past the stage where he desperately craves their triptych happy ending, but - and you can see it when he looks back at Alyssa one more time before literally "closing the door" on that chapter of their life - a part of him still wants their bond to be amiable. Honestly, there's nothing wrong with that.
Kevin Smith's (aka Silent Bob) 1997 film "Chasing Amy" treads through some of the same territory as the Disney movies we've been discussing. Holden (Ben Affleck) and his partner Banky (Jason Lee) are partnered comic book artists whose friendship is put through the wringer when Holden falls for Alyssa (Joey Lauren Adams).
For Holden, the trouble with Alyssa is that she turns out to be a lesbian, but naturally he persists and is eventually successful in sparking a loving romantic relationship with her. This effectively alienates Banky, who feels their friendship threatened.
When Holden then learns of Alyssa's sexually adventurous past, it causes him to feel inadequate and inexperienced, which gives him cause to melodramatically call their otherwise thriving romance into question.
But he has a plan after all. Holden's instinct is to find a way to line his real life up with his ideal life floating around in his head (because the story must end with a "happily ever after"). The only way he sees to gain some experience, get closer with Alyssa, and simultaneously fill the rift between him and Banky is through a thoughtfully contrived threesome.
Holden must propose the idea to his best friend and girlfriend as they sit side-by-side on the couch, and I must say that Ben Affleck really nails the scene. Molding the world to fit his vision has clearly become a labor of love, and he can almost taste that greener grass.
Banky agrees, but Alyssa insists that part of her life is over, and she also won't share Holden with anyone. Holden's insistence that he needs the experience and his relationships will be better for it is now at the expense of Alyssa and Banky's reality. Creating an "unreal" version of themselves simply to appease Holden's desires is not only too much to ask of his friends, but it also creates an unreal resolution to a real problem.
Holden's plan drives the three apart in the end, and this makes way for a "one year later" prologue scene. At a comic signing, Holden spots Banky from across the room and the two share a wordless conversation that seems to say "not yet dude, but some day, time will heal these wounds."
Holden has poured his emotions and experience into a comic which overtly details his and Alyssa's story, and he hadn't even changed their names. The camera allows the viewer to see a panel dominated by the words "I'm sorry Alyssa, wherever you are," and Holden leaves the room having said what he came to say.
But what does this sappy overwrought comic book mean for Holden's character? Maybe relegating his failures to a fictional-feeling comic book can allow everyone to "close the book" on that part of their story together. Maybe Holden is a dynamic character after all, having realized that forcing his girlfriend and best friend into a contrived threesome was probably not the best idea.
Or maybe the sappy overwrought comic book represents a thriving obsession with his failed fantasy. Maybe Holden was hoping he'd be able to tell his kids that his awesome comic book changed things between him and Alyssa forever, and that he definitely hasn't crossed the line between thoughtful and fanatic.
It's unclear to me which is the case. Anyone care to comment?
Its a typical feeling: you watch a great movie, and can't wait to pop it in again. The second viewing opens new doors: since you know where the story leads, you can focus your attention on the journey. You pick up the little character quirks you hadn't seen before, notice easter eggs the director inserted as shout-outs to earlier films or beloved influences, and get to analyze how the actors conveyed the emotion that hit you with that hard twinge of empathy.
Its in this field that Kevin Smith's Chasing Amy cruelly plays with my emotions. The story follows three New York artists, in varying stages of both success and satisfaction with their careers making comic books, as they navigate the often nasty tightrope of love and sexual identity. It's boy meets girl but finds she's a lesbian and falls for her anyway. Whether the situation is plausible (or has happened) in real life is irrelevant. Joey Lauren Adams, Ben Affleck, Jason Lee sell Smith's story well. The acting may get hammy sometimes, but they were all 20somethings at this point, so its easy to ignore the occasional hiccup.
Upon first viewing, Smith's witty and honest take on relationships and obstacles that can destroy them blew my mind so thoroughly that I forgot I was watching it with a date. I started rehashing my past relationships, smiling at the highs and -- even stranger -- coming to grips with the lows, the fights, and the failings as though I'd just gotten four months of professional counseling. I was psyched, ready to call every ex with a heartfelt and empathetic gesture of "I understand now," cresting some invisible wave made of the lifeblood of every loving moment or bitter breakup I'd experienced over the past six years...and then I watched it again.
Chasing Amy -- brilliant, brilliant Chasing Amy -- has the replay value of Star Wars: The Phantom Menace; you can watch it, but shit's gonna bug you. How the fuck did this happen? Who flipped the switch? Thankfully the problem is localized: the story stays strong, but the dialogue that once seemed so core now feels contrived and overwritten:
