A Balancing Act in the Big Picture of Life
November 21st 2010 08:30
Apparently, I have a glass face. Everything I think and feel is evident to anyone watching me before I have even really worked it out myself. Without giving my mind the time to think something through, my face goes about heralding my initial reactions like a particularly gleeful small-town gossip.
This is bad because a) after a moment’s thought I might have a different feeling to the one already witnessed, and b) if I still feel the same, I don’t necessarily want anyone to know it. (This is on the off-chance I manage to keep my mouth shut as well, of course, but more about that later.) Think about your boss offering you a promotion that involves relocating to Tasmania or your grandmother giving you the world’s most hideous LV handbag for your birthday on the understanding that you don’t return it, sell it on eBay or wait on the streets of Broadmeadows at 3am in the hopes of being mugged. How would you feel if you were unable to immediately school your features into something that doesn’t resemble a rictus of horror? (Is there actually a school where you can learn to school your features? If so, I’m enrolling.)
I doubt I would be very convincing as an actor; I obviously can’t even play myself with any kind of grace. Especially when you consider what happens when I am given any dialogue…
See, I have a tendency to be quite blunt, particularly as I get older, and I’ve never been one for bottling up my emotions or opinions. Diplomacy does not come naturally to me and this lack seems to stem from a selfish sort of impatience. This isn’t to say that I don’t look at things with an open mind, because I do, but I just want to get everything on the table without fussing about trying to sweeten everything to each person’s individual tastes. Still, I do try (sometimes), though unfortunately it often means I end up serving something entirely unrecognisable that no-one’s going to swallow. I will prepare myself to act happy about something in case I am disappointed, find I am in fact happy, but give the impression that I am only pretending because of the battle of expressions that happens against my will. It is very annoying.
Anyone who knows me is aware that I have absolutely no sense of direction. I get lost in my own neighbourhood and frequently take the scenic route in a pretty dramatic way (the current record is a five hour detour). The place I want to go and the place I am expected to be are technically the same, and yet I manage to get hopelessly lost somewhere in between. The same goes for my endeavours to be politic. I try to take the safest path instead of the most direct, end up swerving between the two, and then get stuck in a ditch on a dead end road (yes, this has happened in actuality as well). Perhaps worse, if I feel I am being led astray by fakery or close-mindedness, or if I let myself become anxious about going the wrong way, I will clam up, and go nowhere at all.
I’m a poor actor and I struggle with the portrayal of the feelings it seems I am directed to express or of the expressions it seems I am directed to feel. I am not adept at being considerate enough of the sensibilities of other individuals without losing the integrity of my own sentiments. I know there is a way get to the balance of both, but I can’t always read the map. My clarity is scattered, and I am lost.
These thoughts lead me to reassess some (naturally blunt) opinions about film and the sometimes divergent motivations of creative veracity and commercial viability. Is it possible to compromise between the two without losing anything fundamental? Is it artistically ethical? Is it essential in order to get anywhere worthwhile? I would have once said that true and original inspiration should always stand its ground, but perhaps the necessity of creativity is in making it mobile, even if some of it never reaches the destination.
In the above imaginary scenarios with my boss and my grandmother, if I didn’t edit myself to suit my audience I would find myself jobless and banished from the family. Would I be happy knowing I had served the unseasoned truth, or is it better to manipulate my response to protect the interests of others, and therefore put myself at an advantage? Does the same go for filmmakers, who may need to cut something out to appease stakeholders, appeal to more viewers and gain access to potential success?
The thing we hear of most often is scenes being dropped or amended for the purpose of obtaining a more commercially palatable rating. This usually means a broader audience and a wider release. These scenes were presumably part of the whole story in the beginning, but are changed due to outside influences that have nothing to do with anything except money and making sure the rest of it is seen by more people. Can we really blame anyone who does this? How much credibility is lost if it is taken too far? What if the film is used for product placement and casting decisions are based on the power of celebrity more than talent and fit – how many concessions can be made before integrity concedes defeat?
I know (or at least I’ve heard) that it is possible to be honest and diplomatic at the same time; surely it is also possible to have shrewd business practicality without compromising any essential creative truth – and to do all of these things without losing the way. For me, creative, emotional and notional integrity will always be the chosen route, but perhaps a bit of patience (and a GPS) wouldn’t go astray.
Michaelie Clark
I doubt I would be very convincing as an actor; I obviously can’t even play myself with any kind of grace. Especially when you consider what happens when I am given any dialogue…
See, I have a tendency to be quite blunt, particularly as I get older, and I’ve never been one for bottling up my emotions or opinions. Diplomacy does not come naturally to me and this lack seems to stem from a selfish sort of impatience. This isn’t to say that I don’t look at things with an open mind, because I do, but I just want to get everything on the table without fussing about trying to sweeten everything to each person’s individual tastes. Still, I do try (sometimes), though unfortunately it often means I end up serving something entirely unrecognisable that no-one’s going to swallow. I will prepare myself to act happy about something in case I am disappointed, find I am in fact happy, but give the impression that I am only pretending because of the battle of expressions that happens against my will. It is very annoying.
Anyone who knows me is aware that I have absolutely no sense of direction. I get lost in my own neighbourhood and frequently take the scenic route in a pretty dramatic way (the current record is a five hour detour). The place I want to go and the place I am expected to be are technically the same, and yet I manage to get hopelessly lost somewhere in between. The same goes for my endeavours to be politic. I try to take the safest path instead of the most direct, end up swerving between the two, and then get stuck in a ditch on a dead end road (yes, this has happened in actuality as well). Perhaps worse, if I feel I am being led astray by fakery or close-mindedness, or if I let myself become anxious about going the wrong way, I will clam up, and go nowhere at all.
I’m a poor actor and I struggle with the portrayal of the feelings it seems I am directed to express or of the expressions it seems I am directed to feel. I am not adept at being considerate enough of the sensibilities of other individuals without losing the integrity of my own sentiments. I know there is a way get to the balance of both, but I can’t always read the map. My clarity is scattered, and I am lost.
These thoughts lead me to reassess some (naturally blunt) opinions about film and the sometimes divergent motivations of creative veracity and commercial viability. Is it possible to compromise between the two without losing anything fundamental? Is it artistically ethical? Is it essential in order to get anywhere worthwhile? I would have once said that true and original inspiration should always stand its ground, but perhaps the necessity of creativity is in making it mobile, even if some of it never reaches the destination.
In the above imaginary scenarios with my boss and my grandmother, if I didn’t edit myself to suit my audience I would find myself jobless and banished from the family. Would I be happy knowing I had served the unseasoned truth, or is it better to manipulate my response to protect the interests of others, and therefore put myself at an advantage? Does the same go for filmmakers, who may need to cut something out to appease stakeholders, appeal to more viewers and gain access to potential success?
The thing we hear of most often is scenes being dropped or amended for the purpose of obtaining a more commercially palatable rating. This usually means a broader audience and a wider release. These scenes were presumably part of the whole story in the beginning, but are changed due to outside influences that have nothing to do with anything except money and making sure the rest of it is seen by more people. Can we really blame anyone who does this? How much credibility is lost if it is taken too far? What if the film is used for product placement and casting decisions are based on the power of celebrity more than talent and fit – how many concessions can be made before integrity concedes defeat?
I know (or at least I’ve heard) that it is possible to be honest and diplomatic at the same time; surely it is also possible to have shrewd business practicality without compromising any essential creative truth – and to do all of these things without losing the way. For me, creative, emotional and notional integrity will always be the chosen route, but perhaps a bit of patience (and a GPS) wouldn’t go astray.
Michaelie Clark
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