What do this year's
Oscar nominated Feature films tell us about ourselves? About our individual and collective fears? Our collective psyche?
To explore these questions we can begin by looking at the most unusual film in the line-up: The Artist. How and why, in today's era of special effect laden, 3D films, has a black and white, silent film managed to garner so much attention and acclaim?
In addition to being a beautifully made film, The Artist, perfectly embodies our love-hate relationship with the rapid pace of technological change, an undercurrent found within a number of the nominated films. What happens when technology accelerates so quickly that it exceeds our ability to keep up? This struggle is poignantly demonstrated in The Artist and Hugo, both about the transition from the era of silent films to talkies. Many of us find ourselves, much like the silent film star in The Artist, or the embittered filmmaker in Hugo, unable, or unwilling, to keep up with the constant pace of change. It's as if through these films we're collectively asking not only what we gain from our technology, but also what we stand to lose.
While we may be purchasing e-readers, we still love the tactile experience of books. While we may be downloading movies in droves, we still enjoy the smell of popcorn and the cinematic experience. While we may be updating our Facebook page with "timeline", we still prefer the old interface. When, we wonder, will our smart phones be smart enough? Our computers fast and small enough? On a deeper level, what we really want to know is how to hold onto our humanity in this fast-paced digital world; how are we to use the double-edged sword of technology to our advantage rather than our detriment?
To explore this question we ride War Horse into our collective shadow, to that critical period (1914-1918) when technological progress rearranged not only our geography, but the world psyche. It is here that we witness the repercussions of technology outstripping the development of human consciousness: firepower outpacing not only motility, but morality. Following multiple protagonists, on both sides of the conflict, we experience the loss of innocence that characterized the Lost Generation and, as cinematic time travelers, we soon join them as we take a look at Midnight In Paris. In addition to meeting many of the artists, writers, and musicians who lived through and memorialized the Great War, we are led to question what constitutes the best of times. The protagonist begins by believing he has found this in a 1920's Paris, he soon falls in love with a young woman who believes the Belle Époque (late 19th century until the beginning of the Great War) is the best. Ultimately, her decision to stay in that era leads him to realize that by romanticizing the past he stands to lose his present. This epiphany enables him to embrace and act upon the changes he wishes to make in his life.
In The Help, we find ourselves confronting change of another sort: the coming of age of a new social consciousness. The film takes us to the years when Martin Luther King rattled the cages of the national psyche, instigating profound and lasting changes. Here, technology, in the form of a book, plays an important role in spreading the message of racial equality.
In The Descendants, we witness a confrontation with technology on two fronts. Although the leading character's wife is comatose, she has left behind a Living Will indicating her wish not to be kept alive through medical technology. In a plot line that runs parallel to the main story, the Protagonist must decide whether he will sell a large track of pristine coastal land to real estate developers, or chose to protect it for generations to come. The filmmakers show us countless resorts contrasted with sweeping vistas of the natural world. The decision made by the Protagonist points to another evolution in the development of our collective psyche: one that recognizes the inherent value of the natural world.
This theme of evolutionary change and human development is ever-present in the Tree of Life, a film that provides us with a sweeping overview of the evolution of life on Earth, while providing an intimate portrayal of human life. The film explores the origins of life, the mystery of death, and the possibility of life after death.
In Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, we are invited on a scavenger hunt that takes us to two definitive moments in our history: the attack on the World Trade Center and World War 2. These historical markers are themselves inextricably linked to technology. With a key in hand, the young protagonist sets out to find what might be a message from his father. We see a similar journey in Hugo, where a boy searches for a key that will turn on an automaton that he believes holds a message from his father. Ultimately we are asking if technology is a harbinger of good news, or a dead end?
In Moneyball we are asked to examine, alongside the General Manager, how we can make more of what we have. The "economic down-turn" of the last few years has left many of us asking the same question: What can I purchase with little money? The response involves the same questions asked in this film: What talents and skills do we overlook in others? In ourselves? In society? How can we harness our best potential and create a winning season for ourselves and the larger world?
So what's Oscar's message? Advances in technology may make us feel like we're being left behind, but, if we look for what's best in ourselves, summon our courage, and share it with the world, we can overcome our fears, leave the past behind and dance into the present.
