Did I think the emotionally strong, generous breadwinner
John would end his own life? One is shocked that after all his cheering
optimism, he could not even say goodbye to Claire and his son. He buried
himself within a horse sty, underneath crude hay. Melancholia gave us an intimate image of a person completely shattered,
who lost every will to continue.
Cinema as a whole has not reached the level of suicide, but
let’s think about it in a different light. I think some contemporary actors and
directors are no less self-destructive, in that they halted improving once
gaining some knowledge of the cinema world. Doesn’t Adam Sandler repeatedly
produce blockbusters using his own inane formula? And did Gary Marshall ever
escape the princess/fairy tale archetype? They reach a level of
self-complacency, knowing their talent and appeal to the public will yield
profit. This is like John before the final reveal of the Dance of Death. John
worked arduously, but besides his obvious wealth we’re not sure if he made
innovations in his career. Is it likely that if the audience ceases to be
amused by alien vs. Earthling storyline, and stop going to see romantic
comedies because it finally dawns that all these blockbusters are just like
each other and don’t offer insight on the average life, that these actors and
directors will stop thinking with
their bank account and formulas? Moreover, that they should respect the
intelligence of the public? Decay of the cinema comes in the form that old cinematic
values are placed far below box office measurements, and we are still
optimistically waiting for the big picture to change, hoping that fewer B and C
movies will even go into production, and that our fellow men can pick True Grit over Valentine’s Day. But just like John, the directors, actors, and
audience alike know there’s a good chance that Melancholia won’t hit, and
nothing will change the status quo of blockbusters at the throne of worldwide
attention soon.
