Truffaut

What is it about Francois Truffaut that makes him such a wonderful filmmaker? I took the afternoon today to watch and absorb his first film, The 400 Blows, and this question has been in my head since then. I pose the question seriously, not in any condescending sense. His films are beautiful and poignant. They have a way of elevating one's spirit. But he is a simple filmmaker. He does not do this by any manipulation or by technical spectacle, but he finds stories that are pulled from a collective consciousness of experiences to make films bothe fantastic and relatable for everyone.

So what is it about Truffaut that makes him such a fine auteur? I think  first and foremost it is the word auteur. It is found within the theory projected by all those involved with Truffaut and contemporaries' new wave filmmaking, the theory that a director is the author of his films, and that he leaves an indelible fingerprint on his films. He took it farther. As writer of most of his films he allowed himself to be an even stronger "author" of his style in filmmaking. He believed that the director had not just the ability, but the responsibility to make a unique piece of art, reflective of one's own style. He believed it and he lived and created by it.

He also understood the medium from two different perspectives. He understood it as an artist and a creator, but also - thanks to his years at Les Cahiers du Cinema - as a critic and an analyst. He understood film in both theory and application. He was a harsh critic of the current French cinema, and as such he - along with his fellow new wave filmmakers - made films in direct opposition to the current trends in filmmaking. He understood from a critical standpoint where other films were going wrong, and as an artist he understood how make it right. His personal beliefs of the ability and responsibility of a director and his understanding on different levels of the art of film are two of the strong components that make hims such a fine artist. 

Then we have his actual ability manifest in his films. His artistry was nearly unparalleled. His stories, while often lacking the traditional three-act structure as we recognize it, were always well-crafted and well-realized. They were somehow always relatable enough, even in his more fantastic of films. His stories all seemed to find a way to reach down into the heart of each viewer and pull their individual experiences out to be examined and re-experienced. While few among may have experienced the rejection and neglect of Antoine in our own lives, it is told in such a way that our own childhood isolations - no matter how small - are brought to the surface, having us experience life alongside Antoine, instead of simply watching it. He crafts wonderful reflections of our experiences.

His camerawork is what astounded me in this last viewing. His camera is a casual observer to the situation, very unassuming and devoid of any flourishes that take away from experiencing the story. When he does use the occasional technical flourish, it's for a reason and it is arresting. In the 400 Blows he uses no establishing shots, which is a subtle change but has huge impact. An establishing shot will show us the entire school building before entering the classroom, the home before the bedroom or the restaurant's name before panning in to the couple at the table. Establishing shots have become an easy way of identifying something to the audience. It spells it out for us. Worse yet, it has become a substitution for mood: show us point-blank a location and expect the mood to be evoked by a flash of identification. Truffaut uses no establishing shots. On each cut he takes us immediately to our characters, and to our stories, there is no wasted time to have it painted out to us. He has two shots in the film that I would consider for Truffaut his establishing shots: at the beginning of the film we see Paris from the streets and when we shift to the juvenile camp we have a brief shot of the school with a supertitle before the class exits. Both of his locations, Paris and the camp are full characters in the film. It is for this reason, I believe, that he has no large need for establishing shots. I believe the realism of the film is greatly aided by his lack of establishing shots. There is no halt of the story in order to show us where we are, we simply see and we simply know it. 

His few technical flourishes in the film become completely breathtaking after a film of such unassuming camerawork. The final shot of the film is well-known, but what stunned me the most this time around was the transition after Antoine's meeting with the psychiatrist. The slight freeze with the dissolve was absolutely stunning, and it allowed the mood of the scene - the heartbreak and abandon - to linger just that much longer.

To me, that dissolve illustrates what works so well about Truffaut and his work. It shows a perfect synthesis between technical proficiency and artistic excellence. The dissolve is technically well-conceived, but is a wonderful moment of art that evokes reaction and emotion. And it succeeds on every level.

"What can I offer?" In function to my religion

To continue in my thoughts on the idea of "What can I offer?" I now take my ideas and put them into the context of my religion as well as the social stigmas and ideologies that stem from, not my religion per se, but rather by the culture grown from zealous living in a controlled cultural environment.

The earlier quote, that someone could "never marry a man majoring in art" because "it is selfish" is an idea held firmly in place by many members of my religion. Many people my own age in college believe this. It grows from a place that I do not understand, but I have many theories on where it may come from. Expectations for a certain type of life are high within the church. It is a life where righteous living is priority, and a happy home and happy family are the results. This expectation, though, can often be manipulated with the Calvinistic ideology that those who are favored by God will be identified by their temporal success. In the church this ideology is not so literally believed that we will consider those in the larger homes to be truly on a faster track to the celestial kingdom than those in the smaller homes. But we do judge far too often one's righteousness by their exterior signs of commitment or by temporal successes. So when someone assumes that an art major will never be able to provide for his family, the implication is serious. They are putting their family - which is the most important - behind their desires to follow their pipe dreams. Or so this idea would have you believe. 

So within this warped framework of ideology we have beliefs that begin to form in the collective consciousness that there are careers and educations that are inherently more righteous than the others. Those with noble ambition - the doctors and lawyers, the scientists and businessmen - are regarded as nobility. Those with "normal jobs" who have the ambition and talent for manual labor or office work are also regarded as noble - they who will work and do everything it takes to provide for their families. But the artists are for some reason looked upon as selfish people, too absorbed in our own desires and abilities to come to our senses and put others first. I am not saying this is the case for all members, but a group of them feel this way, perhaps without realizing it. but to them, we are hedonists who care only about our dreams and desires and not about the health, safety and security of our families. 

Then there is the odd stigma that many oddly have, that the arts are somehow a heathen world of pornographers and sinners, and that pursuing a career in the arts is enlisting directly in their services. It is odd seeing as this archaic mindset of religion that banned arts was one of the major steps forward of the restoration. Our church championed art and artists. Not to mention, the major events leading us out of the dark ages and into modern thought and intelligence was fueled by the renaissance and its art and artists. But in this modern age, art is equated with the snarling face of Babylon. Unless it is, of course, the wonderful genre of mormon art (another subject altogether) which is how the Lord sees fit to produce art. Art is bad. Unless, you know, it is Eric Dowdle, Halestorm Pictures or generic paintings of Jesus in a field of blooming flowers accompanied by small children. 

We cannot assume that to be considered a successful or a righteous mormon that we must belong to a certain profession. We cannot assume that to be a positive influence in someone's life or to help people come unto Christ that we must be a doctor or a real estate agent or a sales manager at a local Staples. We must simply do the best with what the Lord has given us. In the parable of the talents the wise and profitable servants took that which were given and multiplied it. The unprofitable servant whose apathy frustrated the master simply hid his away. In the Lord's kingdom we have each been given talents. Some talents are in some disciplines and other talents are in other disciplines. What is unwise is hiding that which we have been given away. I will be a far more effective servant of the Lord in being myself and multiplying the talents I have than by hiding my talents away and force the growth of talents I may not even possess. I will have the capacity to influence the world positively and to help bring others to Christ far more by being involved in my art and the talent the Lord has given me than by majoring in anthropology and finding a "normal job."  

The arts have their place in the Lord's kingdom. He has given us artists for that reason. Burying the talents given to us is frustrating to the Master, and does nothing to benefit His work nor His kingdom. To not broaden one's education in the arts if given the talent is to bury it, and is to be - in turn - an unprofitable servant. To seek an education in the arts is not a selfish quest - it can be if approached poorly - but rather it is a quest to take what is given to us an multiply it. In so doing we prepare ourselves so that when the Master arrives He can tell us that we have done well, and that we may enter into His kingdom. 

So do you want to open a shop in a large city? Sell vintage clothing and your own designs? Want to create a community of artists in order to consistently create and perform original quality material? Want to make films? Than do it. If this is what you truly desire and want to do, there is no reason to bury it and force it to sit unused. Make yourself profitable. Make the world a better place by whatever means you can. Bring people to Christ by the means that He has given you, and you will be far more productive than trying to do it some other way. Our righteousness will not be based on our 401k nor our decision to choose biochem over painting. (and vise versa) The Lord's kingdom requires all types, not just those deemed to be in "respectable" professions by the local neighborhood watch.

What I can offer?

"I could never marry a man majoring in art. It's selfish on his part."

That's in quotes for a reason: someone actually said it. It is a sentence that must, by obligation, be put in quotation marks because - as improbable as it seems - it was actually uttered. Odd, I know, to think that such a misguided and sad idea could be expressed by a friend of mine, and even sadder to come to the realization that there are many who share the same viewpoint. It has started me thinking. The statement is flawed and hypocritical by its own selfish trappings so I won't spend any time on why I think it should be disregarded. I will rather express the thoughts that have been occupying my mind all day as I contemplate my place within this idea of selfishness by artful expression. The thought that is reoccurring most frequently in my mind is the following: What do I have to offer?

So what do I have to offer? I am not speaking of myself in a marital sense, as in "What can I bring to the table in a relationship?" but rather  "What can I bring to the world?" It's not as deeply existential as the question may lead one to believe. What do I have to offer the world? How can I better it? How can I change or influence it? Within this, there lies many paths. Each is unique, and each is important. But we cannot fool ourselves into thinking that a path which diverges from what many would define as "normalcy" is a lesser path. The artist's influence, while perhaps unfelt and unseen by many is just as imperative to the world as the influence of lawmakers, powerful businessmen, politicians and doctors. You know, the "normal professions." 

So what can I offer? I have only that which I can create and that which I am given. I cannot force interest or talent in areas where they do not exist in me. I cannot pretend that I understand the deep inner-workings of an equation. I cannot pretend that I would like to. I cannot feign interest in the things in which I would normally have no interest. So why force myself into an education, career and life devoted to it? Why pretend that I could be effective in accomplishing important goals by surrounding myself in that for which I have no talent or ability. I am what I am, and I am who I am. I have certain abilities and talents which are unique to me, and for that I am thankful. I am no lawyer or politician, and for that I am thankful. I am no biochem major, no physicist in training. I have to offer that which I have, that which I am. I cannot change that. What I can do is refine and hone that which I have. In doing so I will a greater impact on the environment around me than I could in any other way. I have talent for the arts. How can I fool myself into thinking that my life would be more affecting by denying them and turning myself to scholarly pursuits accepted by the masses? In all truth I can only be effective by being who I am. I cannot have the same influence or impact in hiding my abilities or denying them in order to pursue a "marketable" career. Saying that a point comes where one must grow up and pick a big-boy job is an idea as ludicrous as saying that a talented and gifted doctor would have more success in life by leaving his practice and painting. 

Why is it a selfish pursuit to hone and perfect the abilities that I have been given? Those who are gifted in thought, in science or in mathematics certainly use education to further deepen their knowledge and abilities in their crafts, why is it not the same for me? Why am I a fool for wanting to further my abilities in my own craft? It is a fallacy to think that it is selfishness that leads many to do that which they love. It is a fallacy to believe that pursuing one's dreams is left only to the artists. It is a pursuit that should drive all of those seeking education in their respective fields. We can all better our capacity to offer something to the world. The lawyer may grow in his knowledge of the law, the doctor in his ability to understand the human body, the taxi driver the fastest route and the artist his craft. Each of us can offer the world what we have. That which we have we can improve and refine. But taking that which is innate and ignoring it for that which is accepted is a disservice to ourselves, seeing as we rob ourselves the ability to fulfill the extent of our own potential. Again, this extends to all realms of ability. We cannot rob the world of a good surgeon, a good mechanic or a good executive by ignoring our natural gifts, abilities and tendencies. The world cannot afford it. Whatever it is that we are, we cannot positively or as powerfully affect the world by denying or changing it. We can never achieve our potential by deceiving ourselves. 

So in summation, I can only offer that which I am and that which I have. Anything else would be either a lie or a disservice, and would not be as affecting. To refine one's ability in that which one loves is, in fact, the antithesis of selfish. True selfishness would be to deny the world that which one could offer.