Today’s Movie Culture not Up to Par

Going to the movies in the present day is a sad conclusion of the romantic earlier days: the ‘20s, ‘30s, and ‘40s were the peak of cinematic perfection. Since then, movies have decayed to become nothing more than two hours of crude sex jokes, hackneyed love stories, and a chance for new bands to become mildly famous.

If you’ve ever watched a silent movie, which I doubt anyone from my ADD positive generation has, you’d notice the raw talent that the actors possessed. Eyes, hands, and movement told the story, not trite dialogue or heated sex scenes. Gloria Swanson and Rudolph Valentino fluttered hearts while completely clothed. Charlie Chaplain had Roaring Twenties audiences, well, roaring, without smoking pot or getting completely drunk. Dark hair and white bodies created a sense of being transported to another place– a fairytale or another dimension– rather than the uninspiring reality of 3D and sharper-than-life HD color.

The ‘30s and ‘40s were the time of ‘Classic’ Hollywood. Never again will you find another Ginger Rogers, Marilyn Monroe, or Bette Davis. Never again will you find another Clark Gable, suave enough to make any heart melt, or another Cary Grant, dashing and charming enough to leave girls starry-eyed long after a movie was over. Sex back then was implied: Scarlett O’ Hara stretching leisurely and humming in the morning, or seeing the Walls of Jericho come tumbling down in It Happened One Night. Onscreen married couples, such as the dynamic Myrna Loy and William Powell, didn’t actually sleep in the same bed back then: Twin beds in the same room were separated chastely by a small dresser. Hard as it is to imagine, people didn’t go to the movies back then to see naked women or half-naked men. They didn’t go to see pregnant women get it “doggy style” or to see a horny woman lurk in the men’s bathroom to have a “quickie” with her husband’s step-brother. They went to see couples like Fred and Ginger fall in love while smiling and dancing. They went to see heartrending, but not overdone, dramas such as Of Human Bondage or A Streetcar Named Desire.

That was back when the movies were as good as, or even better than, the book.

If you’ve ever watched a typical classic movie, say, something with Irene Dunne or Bogey, and compared it with your typical Will Farrell or Paul Rudd movie, you’d be just as angry as I am about the quality of films my generation is producing. Farrell or Rudd can hardly even be considered actors. Their “acting” is limited to the repulsive dialogue that’s shoved down their throats by directors and to the childish pervertedness that their constituency demands. Dunne and Bogey, though, tell storylines through facial expressions, actions, and beautiful dialogue. Whole scenes of “old” movies can go by without a word; Yet, nothing is lost. Words were measured, weighed, and polished by screenwriters back then, not thrown around haphazardly until they evoke a laugh, like today.

Maybe some of it’s in the lack of color of old movies. There’s something about black and white that’s magical and surreal; There’s something about live color (and I don’t mean Technicolor) that makes movies no better than a trip to the mall or a day at school: it’s too real.

Silent movies used to come along with a live band. Yes, a live band- not a DJ. Bands back then were  groups of musicians with real talent and instruments that weren’t warped or accompanied by electric beats, sounds, or singers. Then, in the budding era of talkies, music was limited to instrumental songs– unless the actors were the ones singing. There were no Cobra Starship-style breakthroughs “bringing it.” Nor were there whole movies dedicated to unknown Indie bands: Nick and Nora’s Infinite Playlist. Back then, movies were dedicated to actors and movie plots, not high-paced action scenes that have explosions in time to drum beats and electric guitar riffs.

So, instead of seeing Dear John, which apparently was a real disappointer anyhow, go rent The Seven Year Itch or Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Culture yourself a bit.

The Abortion Argument

It came to me suddenly, the simplicity of the seemingly intricate and emotional matter of abortion. I have always been pro-choice and will always be. I’ve had numerous people try to sway my opinion, and even more try to lambaste and deprecate me for it. I never could come up with a solid answer for why I believe what I do. I always knew I believed a woman should be able to have control over her own body, not the state or the fed. But it’s simpler than that– oh, so much simpler.

It’s simply not in the government’s power to outlaw abortion. The whole issue surrounding abortion is whether or not a fetus is a human being when in the womb. The thing is, that’s a purely religious issue. The state has no power whatsoever to determine that. Many people believe a human is only a human when it comes out of the womb, not at conception or the three month mark or the six or the nine month mark. It’s exclusively a moral thing.

The government only exists to create order in society. People say, “Well we outlaw murder, so why do we allow abortion? It’s murder, too.” Murder is a detriment to society. We can’t let murder go unpunished, just as we can’t let robbers and drunk drivers go unpunished: it upsets the delicate balance of an orderly society. If we hadn’t a jail system, there would be no order and therefore no way or even reason for a government to exist. One murder would lead to two, and those murders will lead to more and more murders, more robberies, etc. Our society would be in chaos. Abortion does not fall under that category. If a woman decides to have an abortion, it doesn’t disrupt society. There is no lawlessness involved, no disturbance of the lives of American citizens. Society will go on.

One might argue that “the person can better our society– it can be the next Martin Luther King.” Again, I jump back to my point about the state’s religious indifference: it’s not up to the state to decide whether or not the fetus is a human being, nor to impose that upon others. Whether or not to abort that “next Martin Luther King” is purely subjective. If the woman believes she might be carrying the next MLK, she’ll probably decide to have the child. If she believes she has simply a dividing mass of cells in her womb, she would have fewer qualms about aborting it.

Go ahead, give women all the help you can give them. Encourage them to have the child, and run organizations that adopt babies out to barren or gay couples. That’s one way you can counter our apparently immoral pro-choice laws. But it’s impossible and unconstitutional to impose your views upon society as a whole: We all are guaranteed freedom of religion.