Apparently metabolism isn’t the only thing that changes as you age. I’m finding myself increasingly frustrated by “art house” uh, art. Movies, books, paintings, etcetera. Living in Wyoming, it’s hard to speak about much more than books and movies. We’re pretty far removed from the visual arts, here. Unless you like horses. In that case, we’re smack dab in the middle of the action.

Movie-wise, we’re not privvy to the more experimental releases, as you might well imagine. But we do have a twice-annual (spring and fall) film festival. It’s a great addition to our non-existent nightlife, though it only shows on Wednesdays. After the Oscars. Mostly after the films have come out on DVD.

I caught Synecdoche, New York this week. Wow. I really am getting old! In my aged impatience, I have a need for films to flow….linking scene to scene…ultimately telling a story. I never knew that about myself. All throughout grad school I argued with the concept that writers were storytellers. At that point, I thought it was sufficient to record human experiences. The more mature I get, the more I believe that our real job as writers is to shape our experiences into palatable, truthful, beautiful and sometimes cruel tales. With a beginning, a middle, an end.  As well as characters that pay dividends on a stranger’s generous investment.

I have no interest in hanging out with whiny, self-absorbed dudes (Sideways was a prime offender). This preference explains my distaste for most of the Beat writers, some Hemingway, and, though I haven’t quite given up on him: Charlie Kaufman. I love the absurdist elements in Synechdoche. I love the bold dialogue. I hate that the movie doesn’t tie up in any kind of package, let alone a neat one. Caden Cotard’s conumdrum is best left for someone who could possibly give a crap about a cheating, hypocondriac, egotistical creep–decidedly not my fave type to fill the hero shoes.

Now, I have no problem with flawed characters as a rule. As long as there’s an arc: Learn, grow, change. DO SOMETHING! Without an arc, I’m forced to play therapist. Or Lit major.  My tastes are not particularly populist, but I do enjoy certain aspects of commercialism. Like storytelling. And good, clean links between scenes.

If nothing else, my own taste is refined with every instance of bad execution I experience. So for that, I would like to thank Mr. Kaufman. You can cling to the elitist “she just didn’t ‘get’ it.” I will stick to my “he just didn’t execute it well enough for me to care.”

Now back to my studio to practice what I preach….