(The following is a story from Kristin, she’s a friend of Spout. I heard this story and thought she put into words something I’ve been trying to put my finger on for some time now. I asked her to share it on the SpoutBlog.)
One of the most common complaints people have when films “don’t quite work” is “It wasn’t believable.” Sometimes the character is too bizarre. Other times the dialogue seems too contrived or poetic (look at the love/hate thing with Hal Hartley), or the situation just seems too impossible.
Just an hour ago I tangentially had an experience that made me think:
1) My life feels like a scene from a movie; and
2) If this was a movie no one would believe it.
Here’s what happened: I agreed a few days ago, as a favor to a friend, to meet with someone he knows who is new in town and needs some professional networking opportunities (ie: he’s looking for a job). This guy, I’ll call him Tom, and I exchanged some emails, agreed on a time to meet at a certain cafe, and then I described myself to him so he could identify me: Dark, shoulder-length hair, dark-framed glasses, working on a 12-inch Powerbook. I told him I’d be looking out for someone who seemed to be looking for someone.
So Tom enters the cafe through a doorway out of my vision, gets a coffee, and then approaches the first person he sees-a 30-something year old woman with dark hair, dark-framed glasses and a Powerbook. He asks “Are you Kristin?” She says “yes,” so he sits down, saying something like “It’s good to meet you. I don’t even know exactly what kind of writing you do.” And she, looking confused but not wanting to be rude, says something like “I’m a PhD student, so I’m just writing my dissertation, but I hope to turn it into a book.” They chat a bit, but it’s incredibly awkward, and she soon makes up an excuse, packs her stuff and leaves. Tom’s left thinking “That was strange.” Shortly after that I notice him and wonder if he’s the guy. I think it’s odd he hasn’t approached me, but I decide to approach him, and ask “Are you Tom? I’m Kristin. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.” He turns pale and says, “The strangest thing just happened to me,” proceeding to tell me about the other Kristin.
The whole set of circumstances leaves me amazed at how bizarre life is. Somehow I quite regularly find myself in situations that seem too coincidental to be real, or with people who come across as too caricatured to be taken seriously, or in conversations where the people involved are so “on”-so witty, insightful, and quick-that you think “there has to be a script somewhere.” So why, if films and fiction are meant to mirror and enunciate life-often the very strangeness of life- are we so suspicious of such moments on film?
Paul Auster, who I think has mastered the ability to capture everyday moments and characters in the context of crazy-bizarre situations, points to this as he answers the question "Why Write?" in his slim yet amazing book by the same name. The answer he gives is simply demonstrated through five anecdotes, each in the spirit of the one I just told. Why write? Why create? Why capture it on film? Because life itself is so often too bizarre and wonderful to be dismissed.
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What do you think it is that causes us to insist on believability, even though our lives are full of moments where strangers sit down with the wrong Kristins?
Is it just the fashion right now?
Is it still backlash from Greek plays where a god drops in to straighten everything up?
Is it a response to the cheesy abuses of religious folks telling heavy-handed, agenda-driven stories that so often require the suspension of thought?
What does it cost us, as an audience, as artists, and as humans, when the bizarre or divine play unrealistic portions of the stories we tell about life?
It’s funny, as I read this story, it reminded me of two things, and one of them was Paul Auster’s book THE RED NOTEBOOK, which also contains lots of interesting things like this story. As I hit the bottom, and saw Paul Auster’s name, I was confused. I haven’t read Why Write?, but maybe these books are somehow parts of each other.
Anyway, nice story. Maybe I’m in the midst of LOST Paranoia (as a friend called it), but wouldn’t it be interesting if the other woman’s name was NOT Kristen, she just said it was so she would see what happened?
Pete, I love the questions you ask. I think we have become desensitized and perhaps even blind to the bizarre and inexplicable in our lives. My theory is that we crave control, so we want events and circumstances we understand
I think I’m going to play devil’s advocate here. Though I agree with everything said about freeing our minds of the general construct when it comes to beliavability and accepting characters that are outside the realm of our comfort zone, I still believe that a film can have coy dialogue, convoluded plot twists and be generally bad. I think that sometimes when we describe a film as unbelievable it is a complex assortment of things found within the film that don’t draw us into the plot, the characters or the ideas the film is trying to get across. I think it was Nat that was talking in an early comment from a different post about not liking “Donnie Darko”. I’m just curious, and you don’t really have to answer, but what about the film didn’t you like? What is interesting is that I loved “Donnie Darko”, the whole thing that is the film “Donnie Darko” affected me differently than it affected you. That’s what’s so sweet about art. So maybe my point here is that if you found a film unbelievable or not interesting, thats one thing, and you should test that against yourself - give it time and watch the film again, see if the same feeling results (often, for me, it doesn’t), but don’t take others opinions of a film too seriously, especially when they say it is unbelievable or that they didn’t like it. Anywho, Kristin, that is a sweet story and it should be a in a film somewhere, if it isn’t already.
I love this story. However, in film there are those moments where something happens because the Plot Demands It. The character that is given a scene just so that we will remember them. These moments are painful, because they remind us that we are sitting in a theater watching a film. The focus goes to the formula. On the other hand Paul Auster seduces us and invites us, with a smirk, to play along.
I’m not really sure why I didn’t like Donnie Darko. I definitely didn’t understand it, but that shouldn’t matter. I didn’t understand PRIMER the first time through, but I knew I liked it, and watched it till I figured it out.
But, Donnie Darko didn’t do anything for me, so I have never rewatched it.
“These moments are painful, because they remind us that we are sitting in a theater watching a film.”
Exactly. Or they remind us WHO we’re watching the film with–that we’re not alone. Like when I’m watching a film with a certain friend who is SO very uncomfortable with awkward moments that he almost can’t bear to sit through one in a movie. It’s a response that becomes highly contagious. Everyone begins to squirm. Or like the time I went to see THE PIANO with my mom, dad and–get this–grandmother. (She wanted to see it because she’s a pianist and she has visited New Zealand several times, but there’s a heck of a lot more going on in that movie than music and scenery.) Where we are and who we’re with can make the bizarre even more so. In contrast, think about my “Two Kristins” story. In the midst of a large and very busy cafe, only three people were aware of what had happened.
Movie or Seinfeld episode, I couldn’t agree more. Historically we as filmlovers can’t help but love the blockbuster, the bio epic or the fantasy film, but the truth is that life is certainly more unbelievable than even George Lucas could imagine. Now if only we could all get to writing, making films we might see that more. On writing life, one of the best stories that propelled a character in one of my scripts came from when I was bartending. I gave away the bar to two friends - or more - and closed up shop. Those two friends traveled to the next city home and wandered into a small bar for the proverbial “one more.” There they met a nice man who was having “one more” as well. they told him about their big free night at the bar with me. When asked what bar they told him and he introduced himself…hello I’m Jack and I own that bar…needless to say I stopped working there after the event. Hopefully the event will reap more rewards in a script than in real life.
Keep creating!