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Post by Doghouse6 on Apr 20, 2017 17:03:24 GMT
Well, as a packrat who resists disposing of anything with the slightest conceivable use left in it, as well as someone with the tendency to anthropomorphize (I apologize to furniture I bump into), it appealed to me, stretch or no. Oh, Good Lord, Doghouse, for some reason this post makes me think of you as Jimmy Stewart in Harvey, (may help that I recently watched it again), wandering around and apologizing, quite nicely, to the furniture. (I can just imagine Jimmy doing it, too: "Well..well, well...I just..I'm just trying to say sorry! Hope I haven't hurt your surface, Mr. Table.") Actually, though, I tend to do the same thing. We re-watched it just a few weeks ago here in our house, too. And I must say, I can't complain about the comparison. There's much to admire in Elwood P. Dowd: he's a truly happy and satisfied man and, as he tells Dr. Chumley, "I always have a wonderful time wherever I am, whomever I'm with." And while it bears more than a mere suggestion of defensive psychological retreat, the philosophy he articulates is awfully attractive: "Years ago my mother used to say to me, she'd say, 'In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart, or oh so pleasant.' Well, for years, I was smart. I recommend pleasant."
Still, as pleasant as I may be to the furniture, I have to admit that what I often say to things like remote controls and PCs is unprintable.
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Post by Salzmank on Apr 20, 2017 17:09:14 GMT
Oh, Good Lord, Doghouse, for some reason this post makes me think of you as Jimmy Stewart in Harvey, (may help that I recently watched it again), wandering around and apologizing, quite nicely, to the furniture. (I can just imagine Jimmy doing it, too: "Well..well, well...I just..I'm just trying to say sorry! Hope I haven't hurt your surface, Mr. Table.") Actually, though, I tend to do the same thing. We re-watched it just a few weeks ago here in our house, too. And I must say, I can't complain about the comparison. There's much to admire in Elwood P. Dowd: he's a truly happy and satisfied man and, as he tells Dr. Chumley, "I always have a wonderful time wherever I am, whomever I'm with." And while it bears more than a mere suggestion of defensive psychological retreat, the philosophy he articulates is awfully attractive: "Years ago my mother used to say to me, she'd say, 'In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart, or oh so pleasant.' Well, for years, I was smart. I recommend pleasant."
Still, as pleasant as I may be to the furniture, I have to admit that what I often say to things like remote controls and PCs is unprintable. Jimmy always said that Dowd was his favorite character he'd played, if I'm remembering correctly. I agree that he's a wonderful character with whom I'd love to spend some time, returning to simpler things. Not particularly surprising about the remotes and computers, though. I should imagine that we've all had that--er--kind of reaction at one point or another. (On my end, don't get me started on printers.) |
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Post by mikef6 on Apr 20, 2017 17:32:41 GMT
We re-watched it just a few weeks ago here in our house, too. And I must say, I can't complain about the comparison. There's much to admire in Elwood P. Dowd: he's a truly happy and satisfied man and, as he tells Dr. Chumley, "I always have a wonderful time wherever I am, whomever I'm with." And while it bears more than a mere suggestion of defensive psychological retreat, the philosophy he articulates is awfully attractive: "Years ago my mother used to say to me, she'd say, 'In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart, or oh so pleasant.' Well, for years, I was smart. I recommend pleasant."
Still, as pleasant as I may be to the furniture, I have to admit that what I often say to things like remote controls and PCs is unprintable. Jimmy always said that Dowd was his favorite character he'd played, if I'm remembering correctly. I agree that he's a wonderful character with whom I'd love to spend some time, returning to simpler things. Not particularly surprising about the remotes and computers, though. I should imagine that we've all had that--er--kind of reaction at one point or another. (On my end, don't get me started on printers.) Sometimes My Lovely Wife will ask me how I managed to fix the TV input or get the PC back on line; I will answer, "I had to use strong language." (But I always apologized to my entire electronics family when I did.) |
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Post by koskiewicz on Apr 20, 2017 18:25:27 GMT
Strange Cargo (Clark Gable)
Rain (Joan Crawford & Walter Huston)
One Eyed Jacks (Marlon Brando)
Predestination (Ethan Hawke)
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Post by spiderwort on Apr 20, 2017 19:13:18 GMT
It also occurs to me that this theme may be represented, in at least a passing way, in what may be more films than not: a protagonist or major character develops or is transformed and benefited by events in some way that imparts a personal lesson and/or a different and better path for the future. Or would that be, as in london's phrase in an earlier reply, a bit of a stretch? Now we get into character arcs in general, not necessarily those that encompass redemption, though obviously for this thread they do revolve around that subject. But in general: Assuming from the start that we're talking about good writing, I feel that the most interesting films are those in which characters undergo growth and change, even if it's for the worse. And sometimes it can be someone besides the protagonist who changes and grows, as in HUD, for example. In that case, Hud undergoes no real change, but his nephew Lonnie changes immensely, which is a satisfying turn of events in an extremely well-written film. Without question, in the best possible writing these transformational arcs are absolutely driven by the nature of the story being told and the characters who inhabit the story, and are never imposed arbitrarily. But they do (as in the case of HUD) provide the audience with an emotional release that I think is an essential part of good drama. I know I feel cheated if I'm not able to experience that closure, even if it all comes to a bad end. It's somewhat analogous to music, I think, wherein the human ear wants to hear that final resolving chord. In drama, whether the outcome is good or bad some growth and change is a satisfying, enlightening part of the journey. Does that character change have to be about redemption? Absolutely not. But can it be? Most assuredly. |
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Post by london777 on Apr 20, 2017 20:04:38 GMT
It's somewhat analogous to music, I think, wherein the human ear wants to hear that final resolving chord.
For me it is closer to achieving an integrated psyche. It is a hard thing to portray in a film without appearing either sentimental or sanctimonious because it is internal. Easier to do in classical music. The resolution of conflicts in a symphony or string quartet are analogous to redemption.
We are resolving from the same hymnbook, spiderwort.  |
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