Final Post
I have thoroughly enjoyed this class and have learned more about myself than I expected to. Because I intend to make a living as a writer, I thought learning how to write as a critic could only help me. Thinking writing like a critic would be something easy to learn, I expected to read work from lots of different critics that would serve as an example of what and what not to do. The class was so much more than that, and I am glad.
I didn’t just learn how to write like a critic. I learned about who I was as a critic. By getting in touch with my pop culture prejudices, I was able to see why I have never been able to write criticly. You can’t criticize something you really know nothing about. All these years I have been building a big wall around myself, only bringing in media I thought was “good”. I’m not sure what made me think I knew what was good from my limited experiences, but my taste was the only one I trusted. Suggestions from friends were often rebuffed because I knew they secretly owned Britney Spears or were very fond of the never-ending songs of what I like to call “hippie twirl” music. So I stuck to my classic rock, branching out only into music my brother liked simply because I trusted him.
Experiencing the full range of tastes that were represented in our class this semester, I realized there was much more “good” stuff out there than I had given the world credit for. When Noel came to visit, I asked him what qualities made for a good critic. Besides just loving music, he said a good critic must listen to lots of music, good and bad.
Another thing I discovered about myself in this class is the deep shame I have for watching television. As I’ve said numerous times, it all stems from my raising. Television was bad all the way around. Then some of it was okay. Now I am free to do what I want, but I feel so guilty for spending as much time as I do watching tv. I am also embarassed that my favorites are the really ridiculous reality shows. But through this class I learned that there is nothing for me to be ashamed of. So what if I enjoyed “I Love New York 2” and made sure I was home in time to watch every single episode? Am I a better person for having watched it? Probably not. But can I now speak knowledgeably about the show and make intelligent (hehe) comparisons of similar shows? Heck yes!
As far as my aspirations to being a critic are concerned, I simply want to learn how to do it so it is in my writing arsenal. I feel that the people who actually make it out in the big, bad world as writers have diversified portfolios. Besides, I get bored easily. It will be a very long time before I am able to sit down and write a novel. I need little things to keep me busy writing. I don’t think I could be a critic for a living, but it is something I would like to do on the side. Through learning my limitations (outlined roughly above), I can see how much work I have to do in order to make my words as a critic viable in the industry. I’ve got a lot of music to listen to and movies/tv to watch.
As for our readings, my most favorite was Klosterman. He was so witty, never afraid to lay it all out there. It made the readings more personal, which I like, and I was more willing to listen to his opinion because I kind of knew who he was. I enjoyed his take on the world. It opened up more possibilities for criticism, showing me there’s more to it than short reviews. It made me feel better about my blog posts, which I often felt were too personal and not very critic-like.
The creative freedom we were allowed with the blogs was much appreciated. I am a lay-it-all-on-the-line kind of gal, usually opting to say too much. Nearly everything I wrote about I have intense feelings for (not counting the last “something new” post), and it was very hard to imagine trying to criticize that thing without involving my feelings for it. So I chose not to. The only time I actually saw myself come close to writing like a critic was with the PCO and COW. I really tried hard to switch gears and think like someone who was evaluating the media open-mindedly. It was hard, because I absolutely adore Cindy Woolf (my COW), and I had to write the PCO right after Noel had been for a visit. I thought he was great. It was hard to put that aside to evaulate his work from a different angle. But I was proud of my work on both pieces and felt I did a good job keeping my personal feelings out of it. At least I didn’t gush over my childhood experiences.
Over all, I loved this class, and I love what I learned in it. Everyone in the class was fantastic. The small number allowed me to get to know everyone on the most personal level I believe possible – through their taste in pop culture. I truly have opened my eyes to things I would have skipped over before. From this point forward, I will always give anything a listen. Or a read. Or a watch. At least once.
Thanks Donna! And everyone! Don’t be surprised if you hear from me some day. I have found that life has a way of bringing us all full circle. I fully expect for us to all cross paths again. I’ll be sure to say hello.
Lost
I had heard of the tv series Lost before this class, but before Rebecca brought a clip to class, I had never seen it. After the clip, I was intrigued. Many of my friends and acquaintances are hooked on the show. Even to the point they must be home on that night to see the new episode, and Rebecca shared the same interest in the show. I decided that there must be something to a show so many people love, so I went online to check it out.
After watching the pilot episode I could see why so many people were into it. Being stranded on a desert island after a plane crash is a fear many people have, including myself. But Lost is no Gilligan’s Island. The humor isn’t there. The characters in Lost take their situation very seriously, as they should. Not only are they stranded on a desert island with people they don’t know, there is a whole bunch of other crazy shit going on.
Because I only watched one episode, I have yet to discover what the noise is or what is knocking down all of the trees. But I appreciate the addition of a supernatural element to the show. Adding a mystery such as that to getting all wrapped up in the characters is an excellent way to keep the story alive on multiple levels.
Besides the setting, the personal situation of each character, and the supernatural stuff, I think this show speaks to people on another level. The idea of being lost in the world is one that resonates with me personally. I often wonder how it is that on such a large planet with so many people that I can feel lost at times. It’s more of a feeling of being lost in humanity, rather than a feeling of not knowing where I am. More than ever, society is focused on the singularity of humans. We have gotten away from the clans and families of the olden days. We no longer rely on each other for survival. I think that Lost revisits this idea of dependence on others. In order for us to be able to understand, the characters are removed from the society they are used to and placed in a situation where their survival is entirely dependent on those around them.
Watching past episodes of Lost is definitely on my agenda. I am glad I was finally spurred to see what it was all about.
The Wild One
The Wild One was made in 1953 and starred Marlon Brando. The story follows a gang of motorcycle riders that raise hell and cause trouble everywhere they go. Supposedly, the story is based on an incident in 1947 when thousands of motorcycle riders took over a California town for a few days. No one was murdered or kidnapped, but this was the first time the public realized the power this new breed of outlaw really possessed.
Given my very sheltered raising, the fact that my father purchased this movie and made us watch it is amazing. It may have had to do with the fact that he spent the first half of his life in motorcycle gangs just like the one portrayed in the movie. Maybe having us watch the movie was his way of sharing part of his life with us. My dad is strange that way.
So back to the movie. The Wild One contains all facets of a proper outlaw movie. The gang leader falls for the police chief’s daughter. She rebuffs his advances. A rival gang arrives and causes trouble just as the first gang tries to leave town. The first gang gets blamed for the trouble. The girl gets chased by drunk gang members with bad intentions, then is whisked away by the handsome gang leader in the nick of time. They kiss, then they argue and part ways. Concerned townsmen capture the gang leader and beat him. The girl talks sense into her father, the police chief, and he lets the gang leader go. Someone dies. The gang leaves town. The end.
Marlon Brando fits the role of outlaw motorcycle gang leader perfectly, and I can’t picture another actor doing as good of a job. Not even James Dean. I suppose The Wild One could be considered the motorcycle gang version of Rebel Without a Cause. I am a big Marlon Brando fan, so that may have something to do with it too.
Growing up watching classic movies, the fact that this film was black and white didn’t bother me. In fact, I couldn’t imagine it in color. In my opinion, this left space for the characters themselves to be the color. Since color movies were in production at the time, I have to believe that the producers chose to use black and white for a reason. Does it matter if the reason was a style choice or budget constraints? Not to me. Because I don’t know what the reason was, I am allowed to imagine it however I would like.
In case you haven’t noticed, I have refrained from using that term “biker gang”, which all other information referring to this movie uses, and have instead replaced it with “motorcycle gang”. There are two reasons for this. One, the gang in the movie is actually referred to as the “Black Rebels Motorcycle Gang”. Two, my dad taught me never to refer to these groups as “biker gangs” or to the people in them as “bikers”. Apparently in his day, that term was offensive and used only by people that knew no better.
Here is the back story on that. Harley Davidson motorcycles were originally used for racing. After that, they were used by the army overseas. Once they were made available to the general public, they became popular with two different types of people. The people who loved motorcycles and just wanted to ride, and the people who used them as a symbol of their rebellion. The American Motorcycle Association actually came out with an advertisement claiming the first group was considered to be 99 percent of the people who rode and that they were clean-cut, upstanding citizens. The second group made up the last one percent and were considered to be troublemakers that gave motorcycle riders a bad name. The rebels looked upon this designation as a place of honor and “real” motorcycle gangs have since been called “One Percenters”. To this day, there is a One Percenter patch that can only be worn by certain motorcycle clubs. Oh yeah. They’re no longer called gangs. They’re called clubs. And you don’t just get the patch by being in one of the clubs. You have to earn it. In his day, my dad spent time in two of the One Percenter clubs.
I suppose that is all neither here nor there, but the gang portrayed in The Wild One was a One Percenter club. The gang wasn’t modeled after one gang in particular, but was meant to encompass the lifestyle of all outlaw motorcycle gangs. I think they did a good job. While the glorification of this outlaw lifestyle isn’t really in keeping with my morals, I can’t help but think it is romantic. That lifestyle is an integral part to who my father is. And while he may no longer life that lifestyle, he doesn’t deny it. I admire that.
I love this movie because I love my dad. For me, he is the star of The Wild One.
Permission to Over-Analyze 