...of charm and strange: the blog

We started studying surrealist cinema in my film class today. I just finished reading a 26-page analysis of the movement and it was one of those things where I sat there afterward and thought, I have NO IDEA what I just read. Perhaps the book was, in fact, a piece of surrealist art. However, I'm more inclined to think it just sucked.

I'm not going to lie about this, either: I think surrealism sucks a fat one. THERE, I SAID IT. My annoyance with the whole business is doubled by the fact that one is assumed to be shallow and stupid if one doesn't "appreciate" it. (Okay, yes. I will admit that I am guilty of taking a similar stance when it comes to some specific movies. And... Well, that's not what we're talking about right now, so shut up.) And it seems like the more ridiculous and nonsensical "art" gets, the dumber you are assumed to be if you don't think it's the most groundbreaking thing ever.

As an introduction to surrealist cinema, the professor had us watch Entr'Acte and Un Chien Andalou. One of these films is famous for a scene in which a man slices open a woman's eyeball with a razorblade. I think elements like these (not to mention disturbing amounts of misogyny) bother me because the text's main assertion was that surrealism is built upon the idea that "the world is full of marvelousness, love, and laughter." If failing to yuk it up while a woman is attacked by a man pulling two grand pianos containing bloody animal corpses is shallow, I don't want to be deep.

I am aware that you're supposed to keep an open mind with these kinds of things, and that you're supposed to be receptive to forms of expression outside your comfort zone. But as I sat there in the classroom, watching footage of a camel pulling a funeral carriage, intercut with what appeared to be Peter Jackson prancing around in a tutu, I was like, What's really going on here?

Remember when I went to see Myra's War? Yeah, it was like that. I understand that the whole point of surrealism is to not make sense, to not have meaning, to not have layers of significance underneath it all. So crucify me if I think that sounds like a shitty night at the movies.

So, that's my (probably unfair) beef with surrealism. From where I'm standing, the Emperor ain't wearing any clothes, y'all. We'll be lectured on these films tomorrow, and it's going to take every ounce of willpower in my body not to stand up and start a revolt in the classroom.

Professor: ...and that's how emotional turmoil about World War II is embodied in this film.

Eric: What is wrong with you people? It was a guy molesting a girl's chest and drooling blood, and a bunch of people hopping around a funeral in slow-motion. That's not art, that's bad porn.

[long, uncomfortable pause]

Professor: [dashes out of the room, heads for the Mexican border]