The ever reliable Wikipedia describes cognitive dissonance as that "uncomfortable feeling caused by holding two contradictory ideas simultaneously" and suggests that most people instinctively try to bring the two ideas into harmony by either changing their belief structure so the two ideas are no longer in conflict or rationalizing away one of the two ideas, again to reduce the conflict.Yesterday's seemingly innocent picture of Errol Flynn inadvertently created a lot of cognitive dissonance when, between Douglas Fairbanks's dirty joking and my own curiosity, we discovered that Flynn's already shady past cast darker shadows than we here at the Monkey had imagined. Not just a "dashing ladies man who drank too much and tickled Basil Rathbone's ribs with the blade," as I put it on Thingy's blog, "Pondering Life," Flynn was a serial seducer of underage girls (tried in 1943 but acquitted on charges of raping two teenagers and engaged to marry a fifteen year old at the time of his death in 1959), as well as, at least on one documented occasion, an anti-Semitic blowhard.
One biographer has even charged he was a spy for Hitler's Germany (although others contend he was a leftist drinking buddy of Fidel Castro's and the British government a few years ago revealed that during the last days of World War II, Flynn was actually a spy for the British).
In any event, nasty business.
Which is a bit of a problem because I, for one, like Errol Flynn's movies, particularly The Adventures of Robin Hood. Am I required to like Errol Flynn as well or otherwise have to explain away his private behavior before I can admit to such? Or should I just stop watching his movies altogether?The instinctive sense that I need to choose one of these options is cognitive dissonance.
There was an even bigger example of cognitive dissonance in the movie-fan blogosphere recently when Switzerland arrested Roman Polanski in advance of extraditing him to the United States to face sentencing following his 1978 guilty plea to unlawful sexual intercourse—a subject I hadn't planned to address in any fashion until my cryogenically-frozen head reaches 1974's Chinatown in this blog, sometime around the turn of the next century.
In my notes for the essay about the best director of 1974 (yes, I've made notes that far ahead— I've even written about Amy Adams's 2008 performance in Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day and Lord knows you'll be waiting forever before I get around to posting it), I have written: "Judgment of Polanski the man I leave to you, to God, to history, to Polanski's own withered conscience and to the appropriate legal authorities in any event. I certainly wouldn't want anything I've said about Polanski the artist to be construed as a defense of Polanski the man."That's pretty much how I feel about Errol Flynn. And a lot of other people, too.
The farther I get into blogging about movies and their history, the clearer it becomes that the people who made great movies weren't necessarily great people, and certainly what you see on the screen doesn't reflect what you would have seen in their private lives. John Ford was an insufferable bastard, Henry Fonda was a terrible father, Woody Allen married his girlfriend's daughter. Dalton Trumbo was a Communist, Ward Bond hated Communists, Elia Kazan informed on his friends. Veronica Lake earned the nickname "the Bitch," Margaret Sullavan was a depressed alcoholic and Betty Hutton was as crazy as an outhouse rat. Clark Gable had bad breath and Joan Crawford's and Marilyn Monroe's legendary shortcomings I dare say you know about.
Renee Zellweger was reportedly so difficult on the set of Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason that afterwards her co-stars Hugh Grant and Colin Firth announced their (thankfully short-lived) retirements from the movies. Jane Greer, on the other hand, was as sweet as chess pie, as loyal as a faithful dog and as brave as your average Marine, but that doesn't mean she wasn't absolutely riveting as the murderous femme fatale Kathy Moffit in the noir classic, Out of the Past.There are any number of ways you can handle unpleasant information about the people who make movies. My father refused to watch Jane Fonda because of her politics; my mother-in-law still won't watch John Wayne because of his. Which is a pity from the point of view of the movie fan because it means you miss out on Klute and The Searchers, two great movies with two great performances that, I'll tip my hand now, will win their respective stars Katie Awards.
You can also go the other way and excuse behavior of your heroes you would never forgive of your enemies. Thus you'll find plenty of petitions seeking to free Roman Polanski despite committing a crime you'd insist your neighbor be buried for. Our brains are hard-wired that way, or so scientists tell us, something to remember the next you (or I) want to beat someone senseless for taking a position we don't agree with, but there's not much future for the republic if we're forever choosing to behave like territorial pack animals.
In writing this blog, I have opted for a third way. I have in the past and will continue in the future to distill out the professional from the personal, the on-screen persona from the private one, and though I have written about both, and will continue to do so, I've been choosing awards and reviewing movies strictly based on the former. Some of the winners have been creeps and some have been saints, but all of them have done something on screen that I think is worth your time and attention.
It's either that or stop writing about movies altogether. But then anything you write is guaranteed to offend somebody. After all, I imagine there are still some people out there who insist the world is flat. You can't please everybody.
So when 1938 rolls around, I will go ahead and lavish praise on The Adventures of Robin Hood and its star, Errol Flynn, no matter what he may or may not have done when he wasn't wearing green tights and a feather in his cap.You're okay with that, right?
Excellent points, Monkey. I actually find that the added "moral" dilemma involved with enjoying art produced by the wicked provides the experience with a scintillating texture; in the case of film there's part of us that, knowing what we know, and knowing what we DON'T know, can't quite trust what we're seeing on the screen (even more so than usual). Such movie artists are, in a way, an excellent reminder of the superficial pageantry of film, and of that fact that sometimes (but not always, certainly) the best pretenders are those with the most to hide.
ReplyDeleteI'm also reminded of Ezra Pound's quote: "It's immensely important that great poems be written, but it makes not a jot of difference who writes them." It's the same with film -- it's not that authorship should be entirely discarded, but when taking a critical perspective of a director, actor, or whoever, it's always the art that makes the man (or woman) and not the other way around.
‘sOK! Thingy & I were mulling a similar conundrum earlier, only in connection with writers ‘n poets who prophesy with their pens. Re RP, I'd give him an award AND send him to jail. There aint too many saints among us, but Polanksi is flat-out disgusting -- the idea of a grown man drugging and sodomizing a 13-year-old girl is -- or should be -- unimaginable. Yet ... Chinatown is an undeniable great movie.
ReplyDeleteJohn Ford was an insufferable bastard, Henry Fonda was a terrible father, Woody Allen married his girlfriend's daughter. Dalton Trumbo was a Communist, Ward Bond hated Communists, Elia Kazan informed on his friends. Veronica Lake earned the nickname "the Bitch," Margaret Sullavan was a depressed alcoholic and Betty Hutton was as crazy as an outhouse rat. Clark Gable had bad breath and Joan Crawford's and Marilyn Monroe's legendary shortcomings I dare say you know about.
ReplyDeleteWell, my dick was big, I divorced the love of my life, and I was kind to children and puppies. So you can rest a little more comfortably.
And you forgot to mention that Lon Chaney was an insufferable, no-talent hack bastard. . . .
a grown man drugging and sodomizing a 13-year-old girl is -- or should be -- unimaginable.
ReplyDeleteWell, I'd like to hold off judgment on a thing like that, sir, until all the facts are in.
I mean, Idon't think it's quite fair to condemn a whole director because of a single slip up sir.
ReplyDeleteI have to agree with Ezra Pound that it's the art not the artist that makes the poem (or the movie) worthwhile. As a side note, one of my frustrations with movies about artists is they nearly always focus on the man (and in such a predictable way -- talent, personal failing, failing overcome) -- rather than cracking the nut that makes the artist interesting in the first place: the art itself. So you get Picasso the philandering pig with an occasional shot of him with a brush in his hand, or Ray Charles writhing in the throes of addiction, without a corresponding insight into how the glob of gray matter in their skulls produced great paintings and music while my very similar-looking gray matter can't even carry a tune.
ReplyDeletePolanski is one of the more extreme examples of how a very flawed man can produce nearly flawless art. I hadn't chimed in on the subject before in part because I'm writing chronologically and in part because I figure Switzerland and the California penal system are going to do what they're going to do no matter what I think about it and the more things I can free myself from worrying about, the better I feel. (Okay, I think he should go to jail, for a very long time. There, I've said it.) But at the same time, I have to take ownership of what I do write about and suddenly I found Errol Flynn hanging around out there.
Speaking of Flynn, one thing Katie-Bar-The-Door said last night was something along the line that his personal shortcomings -- an addiction to adrenaline, a reluctance to grow old gracefully -- may have had a lot to do with why he was so good in Robin Hood, Captain Blood and The Sea Hawk. He was completely sold on how much fun it would have been to be those characters. If he had ever once winked at the camera to say "I'm above this," all the air would have gone out of it. If he was winking at all, it was to say "Boy, this is even more fun than it looks."
The next time I watch those films (or Polanski's work, for that matter), I'll think about what Jon wrote about the "scintillating texture" the moral dilemma adds. It's an interesting idea.
In any event, knowing what Flynn was like in person reminds me of his underrated performance in the 1957 adaptation of The Sun Also Rises where he plays the morally- and financially-bankrupt drunk, Mike Campbell. A wicked piece of casting, that.
at least she calls it "Tiger Balm". . . .
ReplyDeleteOh, and I wasn't ignoring your comments Mister Muleboy -- they just came in while I was drafting mine.
ReplyDeleteOkay, now I can ignore them.
I kid.
But I can't ignore them, Myth! They're giving me truly excellent flashbacks:
ReplyDeleteGeneral "Buck" Turgidson: General Ripper called Strategic Air Command headquarters shortly after he issued the go code. I have a portion of the transcript of that conversation if you'd like me to to read it.
President Merkin Muffley: Read it!
General "Buck" Turgidson: Ahem... The Duty Officer asked General Ripper to confirm the fact that he *had* issued the go code, and he said, uh, "Yes gentlemen, they are on their way in, and no one can bring them back. For the sake of our country, and our way of life, I suggest you get the rest of SAC in after them. Otherwise, we will be totally destroyed by Red retaliation. Uh, my boys will give you the best kind of start, 1400 megatons worth, and you sure as hell won't stop them now, uhuh. Uh, so let's get going, there's no other choice. God willing, we will prevail, in peace and freedom from fear, and in true health, through the purity and essence of our natural... fluids. God bless you all" and he hung up.
[beat]
General "Buck" Turgidson: Uh, we're, still trying to figure out the meaning of that last phrase, sir.
President Merkin Muffley: There's nothing to figure out, General Turgidson. This man is obviously a psychotic.
General "Buck" Turgidson: We-he-ell, uh, I'd like to hold off judgement on a thing like that, sir, until all the facts are in.
President Merkin Muffley: General Turgidson! When you instituted the human reliability tests, you *assured* me there was *no* possibility of such a thing *ever* occurring!
General "Buck" Turgidson: Well, I, uh, don't think it's quite fair to condemn a whole program because of a single slip-up, sir.
Question: Is it even possible for me to take us even further off-topic, or have we set the record? :-)
I agree with Katie--artists that impress us often do so because they are different from the rest of us, which usually means that they don't play by the same rules either. We wouldn't love them without this unique force that they possess--and which can so easily swing between good and evil. I guess what I'm saying is that you really can't separate the personal from the performance, because one feeds the other. The conflict will always be present.
ReplyDeleteYou know, when I was in junior high I must have watched that movie 40 times or so on -- you ready for this? -- laserdisc! Oh how time flies.
ReplyDeleteI still love Slim Pickens the best:
"I'd say that you're all in line for some important promotions an' personal citations when this thing's over with. That goes for every last one of ya, regardless of your race, color, or your creed..."
General "Buck" Turgidson: Mr. President, we are rapidly approaching a moment of truth both for ourselves as human beings and for the life of our nation. Now, truth is not always a pleasant thing. But it is necessary now to make a choice, to choose between two admittedly regrettable, but nevertheless distinguishable, postwar environments: one where you got twenty million people killed, and the other where you got a hundred and fifty million people killed.
ReplyDeletePresident Merkin Muffley: You're talking about mass murder, General, not war!
General "Buck" Turgidson: Mr. President, I'm not saying we wouldn't get our hair mussed. But I do say no more than ten to twenty million killed, tops. Uh, depending on the breaks.
I wonder how many times I've said to Katie "I'm not saying we wouldn't get our hair mussed" after making one absurd suggestion or another. Boy, I sure hope I live long enough to write about Dr. Strangelove ...
General "Buck" Turgidson: Gee, I wish we had one of them doomsday machines.
ReplyDeleteWow, laserdisc! I remember at one time thinking owning one would be as cool as owning the Jetsons' flying car or something. Now even my Blu-Ray collection is starting to feel like an investment in buggy whips ...
ReplyDeleteI guess what I'm saying is that you really can't separate the personal from the performance, because one feeds the other. The conflict will always be present.
ReplyDeleteYou're right actually, KC, and when I say I try to separate the performance from the personal, the most I can really promise is to try to live with the tension in my head while I'm watching the movie. Easier said than done, though. Leni Riefenstahl, for example, I have never been able to wrap my head around even though I know intellectually she was a highly influential filmmaker.
I have a feeling this is a subject that I will be revisiting ...
Colin Firth never announced a retirement from making films, though HG did. I do believe Colin stated he would be averse to another BJD film. In the meantime Firth is working on his 17th film since TEOR while Grant, mercifully, has made just 4.
ReplyDeletePresident Merkin Muffley: Gentlemen, you can't fight in here! This is the War Room.
ReplyDeleteColin Firth never announced a retirement from making films, though HG did. I do believe Colin stated he would be averse to another BJD film.
ReplyDeleteI hate stepping on my own punchlines! Thanks for the heads-up. I'm actually fond of all three performers, despite all the hubbub surrounding two of them -- and I have to say, Colin Firth is an under-celebrated talent.