I watched "The Banshees of Inisherin" last night. It had been highly touted by some of my friends. Meh. It was o.k. I didn't really enjoy the man chopping off his fingers even if in protest of the mundanity of life. And symbolic killing of the donkey left me cold. I only liked the sister in the film. I guess that was the point, though, as she is able to escape. All in all, I would only recommend it to you if you. . . no. . . never mind.
Then I put on "Tar." I can't comment on it yet. I turned it off and went to bed halfway through. I'll let you know.
I find it interesting, though, that movies often use art as an escape for the intelligent people who are oppressed. The cheeriest people I know are not readers and do not appreciate art. They like money and things, expensive dinners and private club memberships and outrageous vacations. Lots of them. They need not sit around lamenting the lack of an art studio.
That's why "we" like Faulkner, I guess. Nobody is immune to the disenchantments and horrors of life. The poor suffer nobly and the rich go mad. That's the formula. Nobody is ever able to escape. They are all trapped in a deep, gothic, southern grotesque.
See Anderson's "Winesburg, Ohio."
I guess, though, that is the hallmark of all "great" literature and all "great" art. Perhaps that is why "the people" prefer burlesques that make fun of "great" art and the human condition.
I've been invited out to watch a burlesque show in downtown Gotham. I'm not really intrigued. Still, it is a bit out of the ordinary, sexual parody and all.
My day will be much more practical, though, more "Inisherin" like. Common toil. Noble suffering. Grotesque madness.