
Happiness
and pleasure, it seems, come in two flavours. There's the intense,
short-term, euphoric, non-enduring type -- dopamine and adrenaline
coursing through our veins, producing brief moments of ecstasy. And
then there's the enduring, mellow, less acute type -- perhaps linked
more to endorphins, fatigue, aesthetic response. The former is
distilled, instant gratification; the latter takes time and requires an
appreciation of context before it can be delivered, but it lasts, and
its impact on us lasts longer, too.
In our modern attention-deficit society, the pendulum has swung towards
the former. You see it in what we watch, what we read, what we do --
we're willing to sacrifice understanding and sustainability for the
quick fix of immediate, acute, escapist pleasure. We would be
healthier, and happier, I would argue, if we could strike a better
balance between the two, both of which have a place and a value in our
lives:
- We can love the bold simplicity of line drawings like
the ones above, yet also appreciate the complex mastery of a great oil
painting, a work that takes study to understand and which conveys
something new and profound every time we look at it.
- We can love a one-liner joke, and also a story that
may take two hours to tell properly, unfolding with twists and turns
that require sustained attention and concentration.
- We can love a cartoon that makes a compelling point
in four panels and thirty seconds, and also a funny book that takes ten
hours to read or a clever movie that takes two hours to watch.
- We can love (and sing to ourselves ad nauseum until we
finally wear it out) the clever chorus of a pop song, and also enjoy
the brilliant composition of a symphony that takes an evening to listen
to and a lifetime to fully appreciate.
- We can love the 'aha! moment' that often comes from
meeting someone new (thanks Marty
Avery for the one you gave me yesterday!), and also the full,
rambling conversation, full of insights, probes, discoveries and
halting learnings.
- We can love the stirring, aching brief passage
of exceptional poetry or prose, and also the intricately
crafted, patiently-evolving, context-rich novel.
- We can love the quickie (what we used to call the
'zipless fuck'), and also the hours-long foreplay that builds and warms and stays in your blood for days.
- We can find bliss in that magic, startling quick
moment of falling in love, and also in the lifelong ever-changing
journey of making love last.
- We can thrill to the astonishing taste of a
raspberry, covered in dew, picked right off the vine, and also the
lovingly-crafted three hour, six-course meal that builds level by level
like a brilliantly-designed house.
The first group of pleasures, the intense, distilled ones, are wow!
experiences, with an exclamation mark. The second, the
sustained, contextualized ones, are mmmmm...
experiences, with an ellipsis, extending them quietly and indefinitely
out.
We need them both. We get too little of both. We too often try to make
a surfeit of wow!
experiences substitute for an inadequacy of mmmmm...
experiences. It's part of the tragedy of undervaluing our time, and squandering it on the urgent instead of the important.
As a consequences of the dramatic Let-Self-Change process I'm going through, I'm taking the time, making
the time, for more pleasures of both flavours, but especially the
latter, the enduring pleasures that change us, make us more profoundly
happy and human.
But for those who prefer their pleasures
intense and distilled, here's a challenge to go along with my earlier
'greatest passages' challenge:
What movie moment, lasting no more than two minutes, affected you the most, in each of the following categories: - Raw visual power -- due to special effects
- Raw visual power -- due to natural scenery
- Emotional power -- due to the situation/plot
- Emotional power -- due to one or more extraordinary characters/brilliant acting
- Emotional power -- due to extraordinary dialogue/writing
This
is kind of cheating, I know: Some of these sensational cinematic
moments, taken out of the context of the entire film, become quite
shallow and meaningless. If you doubt this, try to recall seeing the
dramatic highlights of films you haven't seen on movie award shows -- you probably wondered what all the buzz was about.
To get you started, here are one or two of my nominations for each category:
- The last two minutes of 2001: A Space Odyssey
- The pan shot of all the returning penguins from March of the Penguins
- The
plot turn that is precipitated by a short conversation on the meaning
of life by Peter Riegert and Peter Capaldi, two oil company
middle-managers walking on the Scottish beach in Local Hero
- The moment that Fernandel (in his last film) says goodbye to and sets free his old horse in Heureux Qui Comme Ulysse
- The conversation between Jean Reno and Kevin Kline in French Kiss
where Reno, in finally shrugging off his pursuit of Kline, personifies
the sophisticated French way of thinking; and the hilarious
conversation between Art Carney and Chief Dan George while they're in
jail overnight in Harry and Tonto
These are, of course, films with both wow! and mmmmm...
pleasures for the viewer. There is such joy in these brief and
extraordinary moments of celluloid! Why, in the last two decades, have
cinematic moments of such brilliance and beauty been so few and far
between? |