Big Fish Meets Renaissance Theory

There is amazing power in storytelling and fable.  One can easily look at the oft references fables of Aesop to see the importance of moral lessons found in poetry.  One can also spend time at the deathbed of a loved one, listening to their stories, which sometimes don’t make sense until later, to realize that what is most important is what makes us who we are, our stories.

Big Fish does a beautiful job of highlighting exactly what Sidney was talking about in Defense of Poesy.  He deems poetry as a form far superior to philosophy and history.  He evidences this by showing the nobility of the poet by comparing him to his competitors.  Philosophers, he has found are all about definitions, and that only the learned can understand what they mean.  But their intent is good; a focus on what men should be.  They, together with the historians fall short of their goal.  Historians, he surmises, create their version of events based on hearsay and one groups’ version of the truth.  Historians focus on what man is, but neglect the whole by only focusing on the particulars.  And while this quest to understand what man should be and man’s true character is paramount, it is only the hero-poet who becomes the moderator of the two.  In the case of Big Fish, that man is Edward Bloom. He does precisely what Sidney asks him to.  He moves when others just teach.  He entices the audience (is some cases his son, in others a wedding party, a daughter-in-law, a friend or a spouse) to follow and powerfully moves them by creating a unique world following our mythical protagonist and narrator on his extraordinary journey.

Bloom agrees with Sidney that the story (or the poetry) is a better version of the truth.  In fact, it seems to be the only way to actually tell the story.  Although the Son complains throughout the piece that his father was never honest with him – and we are going to revisit this when we discuss the attacks on poetry – but the son himself finds that the only way to properly eulogize his father’s life, he must also tell his stories.  He simply states: “In telling the story of my father’s life, it’s impossible to separate the fact from the fiction, the man from the myth. The best I can do is tell it the way he told me.  It doesn’t always make sense and most of it never happened, but that’s what kind of story this is.”  Though he feels that his father and he are mere “strangers who know each other very well”, the two join forces to narrate this beautiful tale. 

If, as Sidney requests, part of the power of poetry is in its ability to move the audience and to teach a moral that can’t possibly be learned in a better way because of the entertainment factor, then Big Fish fulfills this poet’s tale in it’s focus on moral life lessons.  I think the term poet in this case can be applied to a number of people.  First, in the character of Edward Bloom who creates the most elaborate and fantastic stories to entertain his many audiences but also to teach his son, wife and daughter-in-law the moral principles of courage, self-determination, politeness, reason, work ethic, goals, etc.  He quite clearly outlines his life lessons right from the start in stating that he was intended for great things, not meant for an ordinary life.  He says that his hometown was “Too small for a man with my ambitions.”  His stories are the best versions of his life; he tells of his inventions, success in business, sports, heroic feats, etc.  It’s quite clear that his son is his intended audience and his moral lessons of his extraordinary life are meant to make him understand that his father, who wasn’t around a lot when he was young, loved him and wanted the best for both of their lives. 

The term of poet could also be given to Tim Burton, the director, Daniel Wallace (book) and John August (screenplay) who use extraordinary imagery and morality in telling the story.  I believe that also did what Sidney begs the poet to do, to take pleasure in the art and to teach and move to the most high truth.  The moral lesson of a father-son reconciliation is the main focus of the film.  Both Burton and August had lost their fathers and perhaps this influenced their outlook and point of view on this project.  I’m certain it added to the passion for the piece (something Dryden would appreciate) in telling the right story the right way.  They chose to tell parts in shadow, while the world of the myth seemed to have an unnatural light, almost halo-like with soft hues and vibrant colors.  It made the vividness and brightness of the tale much more inviting than the stark and dull color of reality.   The halo-like lighting almost always present on Sandra Templeton makes the audience wonder if perhaps memory nature is better than actual nature.  Additionally when (in the son’s story this time) Edward gets mysteriously better and flees the hospital, the lighting and colorization again becomes more vibrant and bright.  Perhaps it could also be said that our filmmakers had a few statements about the criminality of Wall Street, the danger of giving into your fears with the imagery of the tree starting to swallow Edward or the determination to conquer those same fears as our protagonist presses on with out shoes, smartly commenting that “I expect it will hurt a lot.”

Sidney was quite concerned in the Renaissance time period with defending poetry against its many attackers.  He centers his argument on three basic statements dealing with objections raised against poetry, which are: that it is a waste of time, the mother of all lies, and the nurse of abuse.  He quite successfully counters those arguments, stating for the first that, good learning moves toward virtue.  This film is centered on moving the audience toward virtue.  Among the life lessons inherent in the film are that “The biggest fish in the river gets that way by never being caught.”  “The reasonable man swallows pride and admits mistake…but I’ve never been a reasonable man.”  “The long way is easier, but it’s longer.”  “No man can avoid reading the end of his life.”  It’s apparent that we are supposed to take something from this piece, just as Will (the son) is supposed to take something from his father’s sacrifice. 

In Sidney’s counterargument of the statement that poetry is the “Mother of lies”, he determines that the Poet never affirms, and therefore, never lies.  Poets are not liars because they make no claims.  They tell not what is.  But what should or should not be.  Though Will would like a version of the story of his father’s life with “all the facts, none of the flavor,” he most certainly won’t get it.  He complains that his father “never told me a single true thing” and that Edward’s tales are amusing lies, elaborate mythologies, impossible, charming but fake.  Edward, however never comes out and says that he is lying.  He simply tells the best version of his story. 

The third argument against poetry may admittedly have a tiny basis in truth.  Sidney claims that many think that poetry is the nurse of abuse, infecting us with desires and lusts.  It makes us weak because we are moved toward imagination instead of action.  But his defense of poetry is that it is really man who misinterprets and misreads things.  Instead, poetry teaches us how to act in the first place.  And that is the main objective of Bloom’s stories to his son.  He teaches him how to be brave, courageous, kind, determined, and a number of other qualities.  He is a man who did what Dryden advocates for every poet, he “explored every opportunity that presented itself.”  He paints himself to be a man of action and encourages Will to do the same.  He tries to point out their commonality and equal place as poets in this epic tale, believing that:  “We are storytellers, both of us.  You write yours down, I speak mine.”  So, in essence, they become the Poet and the orator. 

One can choose to believe the true version or the fanciful version.  The real story is not about fish and wedding rings, but elaborate story about morals and how the people in our lives make it worth living.  He is joined in the end of his life by all the people that became the fabric of his tale.  As he looks at the unbelievable story of his life, his son realizes that what Jenny told him was true, “I was make believe, and his other life, you were real.”  As he is surrounded by smiling faces, Edward becomes one with his myth.  He becomes what he always was, “a very big fish.”  And in true Dryden form, he is able to live on to immortality through his stories, now being passed on through his son and his grandson.

The Romans said that poets were akin to prophets and seers, the Greeks versioned them as the makers; their mimesis has the intent to both delight and teach.   They have the ability to show us through imagination a version of reality/nature that is better, that is ideal.  And the most poetic moments of all can happen at the end.  The end is always a surprise, but it’s also quite cathartic.  It’s clear that the Poet’s job is to move, show the way, and entice men to follow.  Poetry allows us to know the “why” of history.  And in so doing, allow us to connect with what is really going to stay with us in the long run.  As I held my grandfather’s hand this week, and shared memories with him, I know they were through rose-colored glasses, but neither of us seemed to mind.  Because that is the version I choose to remember. 

Beasts of the Southern Wild

The echoing worlds of a little girl seem to transcend time and space.  Her journey culminates in a pivotal realization, that she is a part of something.  “When it all goes quiet behind my eyes, I see everything that made me lying around in invisible pieces…I see that’s I’m a little piece of a big, big universe.  And that makes things right.  When I die, the scientists of the future, they’re gonna find it all.  They’re gonna know, once there was a Hushpuppy and she lived with her daddy in the bathtub.”  Telling her story through a web of metaphors and symbols, through mystical creatures and real life natural disasters, she invites us to reflect on the nature of man, his fight for survival, and the necessity of community.

Medieval theorists and writers focused on the multiplicity of signs found throughout literature. And their theories can be applied to a variety of texts.  Augustine spoke specifically of how things are learned through signs and their ability to carry multiple meanings.  He states that: “For a sign is a thing which of itself makes some other thing come to mind, besides the impression that it presents to the senses.” (155)  In Beast of the Southern Wild, our tiny protagonist uses and explores an array of signs in order to tell her story.  Most predominately, perhaps is that reoccurring theme of a heartbeat.  A heartbeat is a sign for life and survival.  Hushpuppy begins her tale, speaking specifically of heartbeats, (as the audience hears the faint thump in the opening moments) and how every living thing has one.  She explores the heart beat of nearly everything in her world as she tries to make meaning in her world and understand this sign, which appears in both a natural and given form.  Hushpuppy listens to and for the heartbeat of both the alive and the dead; she puts her ear to the crab, the leaf (given), her father, the old man in the hospital (natural).  The filmmakers further highlight this sign with heartbeat sounds when Hushpuppy and her father are on the truck/boat, the heartbeat of industrial sounds, after she punches her dad’s heart, or the faint thump as his heart stops.  Percussive music further emphasizes this theme and figurative language is found in the dialogue as Wink describes the mother seeing her baby for the first time.  He states that her “heartbeat so big, she thought it would blow up.”

Augustine’s writings can further aid us in this quest to make meaning of this text, Beasts of the Southern Wild, in his understanding of higher and lower things and the necessary progress toward home.  Wink needs to journey home and won’t let the things he uses/needs (the hospital, medicine, operation, etc.) take the place of what he loves (his independence).  Hushpuppy on the other hand, journeys to find her mother, begins to love the notion of being held, (and who could blame her, for it’s only happened twice in her life!) but for a moment, she is distracted from her journey home by spending time with the corporeal being that prior to this moment had just been an old shirt and imaginary advice from an absent mother. 

This film is most certainly a parable and as Dante would likely term, polysemous.  Additional viewings or a varied audience creates a multiplicity of meanings.  Upon my second viewing, it moved from being merely the story of a young girl’s journey with her daddy in a rundown fishing settlement (historical or literal interpretation)  to an epic tale of survival against the elements, fears, people and things (mythical and actual) that would threaten her physical and spiritual existence (allegorical interpretation).  The moral (tropological) reading of this film upon a second viewing centers on the importance of community and the love of the higher power in the world (perhaps Augustine’s vision of God) and neighbor.  Wink wouldn’t allow his neighbors to abandon the bathtub.  Likewise, in facing disaster after disaster, this small community rallies together to support each other and return home.   The children are also taught to “take care of people smaller and sweeter than you.”  Or the importance of being held, as in that beautiful moment where Hushpuppy declares: “This is my favorite thing.”  Throughout the piece, Hushpuppy focuses her thoughts on creation and the elements and the universe.  An anagogical reading further illustrates the quest of the mortal in overcoming her “Beasts”, interior and exterior, mythical and real.  Aquinas talks about the need to look deeper, to discover metaphor and hidden meanings in order to understand people.  Hushpuppy does this herself as we are treated to her imaginative vision of the world, through the lens of her eyes and her voice as our guide. 

Aquinas also comments on the need of Holy writ to put forth divine and spiritual truths by means of comparison with material things.  And while some might scoff at looking at this text as a piece of holy writ, isn’t each of our own journeys Holy in some way?  (Boccaccio would likely tell us here that we shouldn’t judge things we don’t understand…and then ridicule us further!)   Therefore, can’t we, as Hushpuppy does, use metaphors in a corporeal form to try to extricate meaning?  The polar ice caps melting become the world falling apart in Hushpuppy’s own natural disaster.  She sees the “fabric of the universe coming unraveled.”  The children are taught in parable and metaphors that then emerge as corporeal beings in the Aurochs, giant mythical cattle-like characters.  And when they come in their killing path, things start to die.  Further metaphors are visible in the repetition of the light house, the shirt that becomes her maternal figure, the wrappers that remind the captain of who he is, and a number of other fascinating examples.  Hushpuppy even compares a hospital to a fish tank with no water, where hurt animals are plugged into the wall. 

We must be active in our interpretation of text, and must find text that is worth interpreting.  Boccaccio admonishes: “You must read, you must persevere, you must sit up nights, you must inquire, and exert the utmost power of your mind.  If one way does not lead to the desired meaning, take another.  If obstacles arise, then still another, until yours strength holds out, you will find that clean which at first looked dark.”  (p. 200)  Further, Dante asks us if the text (film) move us toward an ideal?  Does it make us fight and take an active role to understand and interpret the text?  Each of the medieval theorists, Augustine, Aquinas, Dante and Boccaccio advocate pursuing a higher path when it comes to text interpretation, to find multiple meanings – that often take a number of readings and a significant amount of study before we grasp it all.  Sometime in our pursuit of understanding, we may feel as our young protagonist did about the parts of her universe that she didn’t understand, that it was: “talking to each other in ways I can’t understand.  Sometimes talking in codes.”  But if we can walk away from a film and understand the reason the story is best told allegorically, through the lens of a child, perhaps we will take a step closer to understanding a child’s point of view or vision in other circumstances.  Hasn’t Christ asked us to “become like the little child” in trying to receive his messages?  If not that, then perhaps we can walk away, feeling empowered, like Hushpuppy on her return home, when we see four girls and four 4 beasts, wading deep waters, conquering fears and obstacles.  She turns and stares her destiny down, which in turn bows down to her command.  Or perhaps we can take from the film the simple message that the “whole universe depends on everything fitting together just right” and it becomes each of our jobs, no matter how small, poor, sick, removed or otherwise to try to fix it. 

Mindy Nelsen

TMA 689

Online Response #2

The Great Train Robbery and The Searchers

Unsettled and perplexed.  That is the sentiment that has been wafting in and out of me this week as I try to figure out why this week’s films and the western genre have affected me so.  Westerns allow exploration of contemporary issues in America in the midst of a classical view.  The first narrative film ever made, The Great Train Robbery, is one I have previously encountered.  Plato was concerned with nature of being; the nature of justice, truth, good, love, beauty, so too is the western genre.  The Great Train Robbery is filled with examples of good and beauty in the lively dancing scene as well as the little girl that comes to free the tied up rail road worker.  The nature of being and that of justice are clearly explicit in the fight to the death (with horses caught in the crossfire) of the lawmen vs. the bandits.  There is a necessary use of violence on both parts – that of the robbers to get the loot they were so preoccupied with (even to the point of getting distracted and caught!) and also of the lawmen in their unrelenting pursuit of the criminals.  The plot was clear and concise, leaving the characters very committed to their true versions of self and cause, something that would surely please Aristotle. 

Likewise, in discovering and critiquing a film such as this, it is important to notice the detail beyond the plot.  Aristotle’s quest was to analyze everything, including literature (and in this case a film text).  He has an almost scientific way of scrutinizing it, breaking it apart, piece by piece.  Similarly, we must do the same in terms of plot, character, spectacle and even the technology used.  Critics and film historians alike have surmised that “the film used several innovative film techniques of the time including parallel editing, camera movement, location shooting, jump cuts and pan shots. It is also the originator of the ‘shooting at someone’s feet to get them to dance’ scene that has become cliché in westerns.”[1]  While the film certainly exhibits the tenants of narrative structure, it still doesn’t fully embrace the classics view of tying everything all up.  The final shot is of the leader of the bandits as he turns a gun on the audience and proceeds to shoot us.  Something I’m sure was quite shocking at the time, it still leaves the audience with just enough questioning to be unsettled at the end of the short piece. 

A classical lens can also be helpful in discerning the perplexity that is The Searchers.  Even by Aristotle’s definition and tenants of criticism, this piece has stood the test of time.  Classical theory deduces that all art is imitative, mere representations of something else that exists or has existed.  But these representations must be of action.  As people, we are imitative creatures who learn by imitation others.  So poets, authors, philosophers, and creators of a variety of texts are preoccupied with the aspects of story; especially that of tragedy.  Aristotle states that tragedy needs to be performed rather than narrated.  It becomes, therefore, the duty of the poet/text creator to represent either things as they are or were, things as people say and think they are or were, or things as they should be.  It equally becomes the duty of the theory practitioner to examine the individual tenants of the film through the lens of the chosen theory. 

Classical Theory values emphasize reason.  In it, accounts are written down and then changed through re-tellings. But there is always a separation between the reality vs. the artifact.  In the realms of classical theory, all art is constructed, and in film, all supposed life is constructed.  A mimesis (a representation or imitation) often takes the place of the original in the audience’s eyes.  This leads to a problem in accurate portrayal of things and representation of their point of view.  For example, in The Searchers, the Comanche are actually all played by Navajos, with the exception of Scar, who was played by a German.  How then, can art be believed?  How also, can the character or their choices be trusted?  Plato states that, “Eyes can become confused in two different ways, as a result of two different sets of circumstances.” (p. 63)  Though he is speaking of the audience view, the same can be applied to the characters distorted view based on their constructed circumstances.  Perhaps this theory can be used to examine the very different points of view of Ethan and Aaron in relation to Debbie after they have found her.  Aaron will risk his life and future happiness to save her, whereas Ethan’s unchanging sense of right and wrong prompt him to nearly kill her and say: ““living with the Comanche’s ain’t being alive.”  In the basic conventions of a western, the spectacle and the plot focus on America’s identity and the tragic nature of the hero trying to find their path.  This too is a representation.  In many ways it allows for the justified use of violence in pursuit of the American’s goal or supposed path.

Perhaps John Ford could be using the same technique as Plato used with his character of Socrates, making the characters his mouthpiece to comment on – even in a subtle way – the treatment of racism and justification of choices in an uncertain time.  There certainly was plenty evidence of unease and distrust of the other.  Rhetoric, the Greek style of persuasion, moves the audience to understand how the creator sees a situation.  This film had a prevailing attitude of racism even by our protagonist and the supposed gentler characters tend to promote violence.  Moments that resonated this response occurred throughout the piece.  Prayers were focused around killing Indians.  After one character states that it’s “hard to believe they’re white” in regards to the rescued women, Ethan’s character quips that “They ain’t white no more.”  Frank’s father furthers the justified use of violence and disenfranchisement about what America really is in his statement that “It’s this country that killed my boy.”

Additionally, there was a clear and blatant use of excessive violence in the form of shooting, throwing a giant rock at dead native, scalping on both sides, violence against animals, even the antagonists killing raids seemed to be justified.  The whole thing could be said to have left the audience with a feeling of antipathy, the notion that they get what they deserve.  Aristotle infers that art must have an emotional affect on the audience; a catharsis. Tragedy serves to arouse this in the audience.  In a tragedy, the characters are better than us.  This is certainly the case with Aaron.  His sacrifices alone are something to aspire to.  His love of a family that is not his by blood and determination to finish the task he started, no matter the obstacles makes for quite the hero. 

But not all of the characters are people we would aim to be.  At least I hope not.  The tragic hero, hereafter referred to as the antihero or just plain Ethan, must have his disastrous fall and meet his unalterable fate.  Aristotle necessitates that the best plots have a character’s recognition of their own fate, or anagnorisis, as well as reversal of the position of the main character, or peripeteia.  And that the hero must remain true to his character, going from happiness to misery.  They must have goodness, but must also stay appropriate, life-like and consistent.  Ethan is the epitome of consistency as exhibited in one of his earliest lines: “A man’s only good for one oath at a time, and I already made mine to the Confederate States of America.”  This mindset rarely changes. 

But there is not much for the audience to like in Ethan.  If classical theory highlights the need for the hero to have a tragic flaw and the character relationships to be clear, and close, then Wayne and Ford certainly followed with that particular construct.  Some of the early shots in the film seem to suggest that Ethan had an affair with his brother’s wife and that perhaps Debbie might actually be his child.  While there is no dialogue to substantiate that claim, there is a certain motivation behind what Ethan’s character does.  A man driven by revenge, his mother was also killed by Comanches, the death of his brother’s family – which might be his own in a number of ways, drives him to be the lone wolf, a personal loss so tragic he can’t bear to share it with others.  Even the antagonist is driven by rage for revenge.  Scar’s children were killed by white men.  All of the interpersonal relationships within the film have a great power to accomplish Aristotle’s task of drawing up dread or compassion within us.  By the end of the piece, Ethan’s course has taken him to the point of near madness and loss of reason – something Plato would certainly huff over, so in order to restore and maintain order, he must leave his family.  The closing shot is of this antihero turning around and waking away from the house, away from the camera, and leaving this life.  His commitment to justice wore him to the core and he had nothing left.

I could go on and mention the technical aspects of the film.  How the plot, (complete verisimilitude), character (clear and precise and unchanging), thought, diction, song (consider the anthems of the confederacy strewn throughout) and spectacle (think about the sweeping shoots of the prairie or the chase down the hill) all work together to make this masterpiece.  Or I could simply end with the notion that if the goal of a great story is to produce catharsis, I think this film really purged me.  It has stayed on my mind and made me question and feel things I wasn’t planning on focusing on.  Perhaps the best thing to do would be to turn and walk away too.

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[1] http://filmmakeriq.com/lessons/film-screening-the-great-train-robbery  

Online Response #1

Mindy Nelsen

TMA 689

Online Response #1

Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure

Let’s start with a qualifier here…I may be drawn and quartered for saying so, but teen film and cult classics have never really held and interest for me.  I made it through half of Dumb and Dumber, before giving up because I couldn’t handle any more dumb.  Equally, I remember seeing the VHS of Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure at my friend’s house in 1992 – when I was 11 years old.  Her brother laughed continuously and I was at a loss for why something so seemingly idiotic held any appeal.  I remember her dad – a lawyer who I thought to be extremely intelligent – chuckling from time to time as we all sat around the TV in her living room. How little I knew then.

Upon this recent viewing, I found Bill and Ted’s to be delightful and informative; in both its accuracies and blatant misrepresentation of accepted historical fact.  Of the many theories that could be applied to this film artifact, a feminist reading, post-colonialism and reader response are of particular interest. 

If Feminist Theory is specifically occupied with exposing masculinist stereotypes, distortions and omissions found in male dominated literature, then surely the unconcealed representations of the feminine in this film (written by two men and directed by a man) deserves some time.  Of particular interest was Bill’s step-mother Missy.  A clichéd young girl, she is merely an object of sexual desire for her older husband and younger son (suffering from a self-diagnosed Oedipal Complex).  She clearly can’t cook and burns grilled cheese, but has a burning desire to be called mom and fulfill her pre-destined role.  Embracing the gum chewing, magazine reading vision of valley girl, she spares no thought on understanding why Bill does what he does.  Further examples of the overt marginalization of the female are found in the poster of the sexual icon hanging near Bill’s bed of Marilyn Monroe, as well as the damsel-in-distress characteristics of the “babes”/princesses who are going to be married to horrible old men, and need help to escape.  They are liberated, first by a man from the future and then from their constraining clothes thanks to the female quintessential “mall and credit card combination”!  Further examples can be found in the maids in the kitchen who run at the first sign of danger and need the male to protect them and even in our protagonists teaching Joan of Arc what it is to be female, who in the film was made to be an aerobics instructor and wash dishes for the teen-age boys. 

Although Post-colonial Studies most often inspects the third world vs. the colonizer, its concept of not understanding and creating imposed meaning of and for “the other” and creating a damaging stereotype through text and media certainly qualifies in our examination of this film.   First, it is important to note that Bill and Ted’s understanding of history and important historical figures is dependent on commercialism and commoditization.  They compare the areas they visit to the Hall of the Presidents at Disneyland as well as the wild west to Frontierland.  Perhaps it’s a depiction on the failing educational system and the lack of reaching marginalized, non-mainstream students – or perhaps it’s just a commonality that the audience can draw upon.  But the creators of the film chose that particular imagery as in intellectual comparison to historical locations.  Language is also imposed on the characters from the past.  There was certainly an interesting difference with the modern teenage vernacular and the historical references throughout.  Moreover, the historical and future figures adapt to Bill and Ted’s phraseology. 

Additionally we have the emergence of a variety stereotypes, Western (Billy the kid), Asian (Genghis Khan), even artsy (Beethoven).  All the foreigners tend to come off as strange and simple.  Even Socrates is depicted as old and slow, believing a quote from a soap opera “As sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives” to be the epitome of thought and reason.  Although the most damaging stereotype is likely found in the depiction of Napoleon, who is seen as a proud, angry, self-consumed, Frenchman.  He is treated like a dog and told to sit and stay, he has tantrums, eats too much, is selfish with ice cream and his own updated version of “Waterloo”.  With no attempt to understand “the other”, these characters are grabbed from their element and expected to survive in this new colonized world.  In post-colonialism, much of supposed history comes down to national flows of commodities, money, information, technology and people.  Equally in this film, we see that the “great historical figures” find solace in this new world in and through the mall and playing with new toys.  And the great men and woman of history become silly typecasts of an empirical, westernized view of the world, proclaiming itself to be far superior to the land from whence they came. 

In the piece, Socrates expresses that the “Only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.” Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure is most certainly an exploration in knowing everything and knowing nothing.  Reader Response infers that meaning is found in the moment; in the audience response and reception to the text.  Certainly each of our views of this film were different.  Some might have chosen to see a circular paradox wherein what they need to achieve their goals can’t be attained without help.  In order to “make it”, the boys need Van Halen to play with them, but they can’t get him without a great video, and they can’t make a good video without knowing how to play, and they can’t learn how to play without great instruments, which they can only get if they have Van Halen.   Further examples of the cyclical nature the reader might respond to is found with Bill and Ted encounter of themselves at the beginning and near the end of their journey.  They choose to trust themselves stating, “we told ourselves to listen to our selves, why would we lie to ourselves?”  Meaning was created in our recent viewing by our reactions to comedic elements, our response to sensitive moments wherein the protagonists deal with their parental problems or they reflect on the fact that nothing is different.  Or the truth that time doesn’t stop, and the clock from home is always running. 

I think it’s refreshing and sometimes a bit difficult to be taken out of your element and be encouraged to examine something you previously thought not worth a second look.  If we surmise that a “fact of the past becomes historical fact when it is chosen by the historian to construct historical analysis.” (E. H. Carr), then we need to accept our obligation as students to look at and examine our response to those “historical facts”.  Perhaps it’s the middle class, white, prissy girl in me that needed some appreciate of “the other”.  As much as I want to believe that I have an open mind, the truth is that I have an open mind when I want it to be open.  It’s something to definitely rectify as I pursue this degree.   The financial success of this film alone warrants attention, as well as the apparent success of its progeny – two sequels with a fourth in the works, a stand-up act where the characters discussed current events without knowing what they were really talking about, theme park rides, town celebrations, and even a breakfast cereal.  It becomes evident that this particular artifact reflects something that speaks to the populace that is deeper than the chuckles of a teenage boy and his lawyer father in a living room in 1992.  More than a simple cult-classic, it really did demonstrate in a small way an expose on family life, the outreach lacking in formal education, a skewed view of the role of women, the over-abundance of stereotypes, and the commoditization of every aspect of our lives.  

Test.