Escapism is an implicit theme in any movie we watch. Fundamentally, the very act of watching a movie requires us to submit to this escapism to the fullest degree. In fact, to drill down even further is to uncover an even more complex arrangement that leads us to not only forget about the red velvet curtains, art deco detailing and the rapidly flickering image, but to fully embrace a world that is not our own for the sake of being entertained by the possibilities of this new paradigm.
Thus, when escapism becomes the explicit theme within this implicit framework, the result is total euphoria. I know this seems like an overly academic introduction to a review about two relatively inane movies, but ultimately this is what makes movies such an awesome force. That, in spite of knowing it, sensing it, and being acutely aware of it (especially when the movie is shitty and our eyes begin to wander), we can willfully sit down, pop in a DVD and always succumb to this alternate reality.
Noah Baumbach's Kicking and Screaming is a subversive form of escapist moviemaking because it heavily channels realism. And not just any realism: my realism, and, since you most likely found this blog through me or someone like me, your realism. We've just graduated from college, we're mulling around our not-so-former stomping grounds, and trying to prolong the inevitable submission of our soul to the rigid machinations of the real world that we can only just begin to envision.
On this point, I always find these movies the most difficult to watch. After all, the idea of trying to escape my own reality only to find myself in a similar psyche locale with a better looking protagonist and a few extra G's in the bank doesn't really seem to create much of an incentive to watch any further than the first minute, since every other scenario could've been extrapolated pretty simply from my own life experience. But the promise of a subversive escapist movie like this isn't so much to present a world that might be unfamiliar to certain audiences that do not identify with these dilemmas (after all, who outside of the gold coasts is even netflixing this right now?), but instead to provide some perspective for those of us entrenched in its reality as the minutes tick by. And, in a weird way, I'm going to draw a somewhat extreme conclusion by calling this an activist film, meant to lull us out of our daily complacencies by reminding us what seminal life moments look like and feel like, just in case we've forgotten.
In college, these moments seem almost scheduled: the professor that inspires you to give German philosophy another shot (or, let's face it, a first shot), the courting of a girlfriend, the study abroad culture shock. These moments happen so often that we begin to take them for granted, and we expect them as frequently beyond our four+ years of higher education. Of course, reality sets in and we find ourselves deeply entrenched in the day-to-day struggles of finding gainful food, shelter and labor which some may find tragic in and of itself, but the real tragedy is that we almost stop believing that these watersheds can even happen. We submit so wholly to the concept that our life paths are being paved faster than we can redirect them, that all we can do is hope for a nice car to enjoy the ride in.
It is for this reason that I am relieved to say that I loved Danny Deckchair. The movie is definitely more along the lines of a surrealist escapism, but the lesson remains the same. We all run the risk of complacency, which is all too human, because comfort is our natural point of homeostasis. We all struggle to balance some semblance of stability with enough excitement to make life truly worth living. And yet, we often fail to find solidarity in these concepts. Maybe we should focus on how to help each other through these not-so-trivial moments that end up encompassing great swaths of our lives and find strength in the successful examples that certain lucky individuals have managed to accomplish. This would be true optimism.
Strapping 100 weather balloons to a deckchair is certainly an extreme solution to the problem of complacency. The problem is, solutions to this complacency are relative because they are completely dependent upon how entrenched we ourselves feel in our own routines. It may not take much to break the monotony, and it is all too important to do so because these are the moments that provide us with the best stories, the most fulfilling moments and the highest levels of happiness. And besides, when you reach a new level of contentment, it's time to do it all over again.
Escapism seems like an ugly word because it reminds us that we are slavishly fatalistic with regards to our own lives, all too willing to give up control and escape through the remote control. But what about applied escapism? Why don't we start taking the lessons that these movies have to offer more seriously and go try something new? In fact, I'd like to start doing this tomorrow, and I hope you all would join me, support me, guide me and listen to me, and I would be more than happy to do the same for you.
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