Maybe it would help if you gave me your definitions of a) story; b) plot; and c) narrative. I think some misunderstandings are caused by the way each of us is using these terms.
> I think that THE SOPRANOS is a series of connected stories,
powerful and engrossing, with a unifying narrative-consciousness,
creating a fictional universe of characters who reveal to us an
alternate world of experience where we can effectively feel our
own self-loathing, reveal our own moral failings of attraction
and repulsion, and distance ourselves from ourselves because of
the "aliveness" of this hypothetical reality, that we call these
stories of THE SOPRANOS.
First, I have never loathed myself, so the oportunity to travel to a place that allows me to experience my self-loathng is an offer I can refuse. As for distancing myself from myself, as a queer boi I have struggled too hard not to stop doing just that to go there again.
Secondly, for me the "aliveness" of this hypothetical reality can be accessed in two ways: 1) through shocks of recognition where what is portrayed on screen evokes memories/experiences from my own life; and 2) through the skillful employment of the particular medium's formal elements which allow me to enter this world. In the case of THE SOPRANOS, both routes are closed.
> The interest comes for me where I agree with so much of your
criticism and observations, and yet insist that you are not even
seeing the story, or acknowledging it.
I can acknowledge being the presence of a story without finding it compelling. I do not find the mere fact of being told a story compelling . Either there is some experiential hook or the pleasure of the craft of the storyteller to pull me in (preferrably both).
> You also don't seem to want to acknowledge that making living-stories
is important to all of the narrative arts in what ever medium.
I think it is vital. If Chase had only provided access to all who wished to enter.
> What I am trying to get you to understand is that sometimes the story
can "make" music.
Maybe if the story has a deep personal meaning. I think that is what happens with THE SOPRANOS and you. You are able to access it on a vision/emotional/experiential/psychological (VEEP) level that is closed to me. Since Chase fails to provide another path, I am shut out.
The one scene I could inhabit was that rare moment I noted ealier where Chase is actually good: Paulie sunning himself. It is a beautifully directed moment and I entered it with ease. But with the next shot I was once more evicted from the premises.
> There are no such phenomena as the "non-aesthetic aspects" of the work.
The whole of the work is part of the "aesthetic" aspects of the work, and
in works that are specifically narrative, the _experiential-whole_ of the
work is what I am calling our experience of the story.
I wasn't clear about what I meant (and only have become so contributing to this thread). What I should have posted was that I found it interesting that the accolade of greatness could be applied to a work of art without mention of how it made use of the formal elements of its medium. For me, the fact that THE SOPRANOS mentioned the Iraq war is commendable, but that does not make it great. For me, a great work of art does create that alive, alternate world you speak of, but in addition provides a means to get there.
One way is through activating in a viewer some VEEP trigger, but success here is dependent on a viewer bringing this trigger to the screening with her. The other is the creation of access through the successful manipulation of the medium's formal elements.
> If people experience the alternate reality of character and society; the
alternate reality of aspects of specific people they know; of specific
"reflections" and deflections from their own social experience . . .
. . . which I did not . . .
> . . . if they experience all of this as aspects of THE SOPRANOS that they
watch, then that becomes part of the world of stories that the work of art
has created.
Agreed. Maybe a possible formal element is the presenting of social/ psychological types that in some viewers will evoke "shocks of recognition" or similar responses.
> More specifically, you take the rather nineteenth century view, that 20th
century auteurist swallowed whole, that there are aesthetic aspects of art
that are specific, particular and exclusive to that art's medium.
Maybe they got it right in the 19th century and subsequent decades fucked it up. Or is the latest always the best?
I was an auteurist before I even knew the term. By the time I was 10, I was looking forward to the "directed by" credit. In fact, it was only after people read my writing and told me that I was an auteurist that I was aware that I was one. I do believe that they are certain formal properties that exist in different media. I do not believe that they are specific or exclusive. Dialogue exists in the novel, the play and on the screen. In each case it is a formal element, but there are subtle variations between them. Often what reads well on the page does not play well on the screen or stage.
> Thus if the work of art does not measure up to the aesthetic standards of
> the
medium specific to it, then that art must be judged lacking.
My only standard (hope?) is that a formal element, if it is used, be used effectively. I do not believe that there is some Platonic form floating somewhere labelled "good acting" or "good dialogue" or "good editing." For me, a formal element is well used if it helps the viewer access and experience the world of the story (in the case of narrative art).
> It is because THE SOPRANOS does not live up to your visual standards, that
> you
condemn all of us for experiencing the world created by the stories, through
good
acting and great writing, as a compelling work of art.
Is effectiveness such an odd aesthetic to have? I think it is great that you can enter and experience THE SOPRANOS. I was just wondering how the fuck you did it. Now I have a clearer understanding of both your ability and my inability to do so.
> And I am arguing (and I know you will disagree with this) about the
> possibility
of openness to the full experience of the narrative arts and how
predetermined
aesthetic rules or theories can _never_ provide for this openness.
My only request (not even a rule) is that the artist provide a way into her work. Is that so outlandish?
> Why is Chase using the medium of television? Why isn't he writing a
> novel,
or presenting a series of plays?
No, I can understand it a little better now. Chase was providing access through the psychological/experiential/humor doorway. It is one I cannot enter through (my experience can only be my experience), but I now understand how others might.
I will still wonder about the wisdom of choosing a medium where you can only offer one way in if there might be another that would allow for dual entry. But maybe nowadays, VEEP is the only doorway that counts and the need for facility with other formal elements is as dead as vaudeville.
> The devil -- the perverse representation of/attraction to evil -- is
always compelling in Dostoevsky's novels and often form the heart of "the
story" being told, as opposed to the Gothic-mystery plots that Nabokov
continually criticizes and makes us laugh at.
But here we do enter the world of taste or maybe personal psychology. I do not find the devil compelling in the least. There is no attraction in evil for me. If it is there for Dostoevsky, great. But if I do not share this attraction, then the only way for me to enter into Dosoevesky's story is through his craft as a storyteller in his chosen medium.
> I cannot separate the ineptness of camera work from the strength of the
story he tells.
But the ineptness of the camerawork is more than compensated for by your ability to key into Chase's "self-loathing, hate myself, hate the audience, make fun of the audience" thing he has going on. You enter into the alternate world of THE SOPRANOS through your deep, complicated response to Chase's vision.
> But the reason why people of the likes of Edmund Wilson are around is to
bring us back to ground, so that we can see the power of the stories, the
characters, the argument, the action, the emotions, not only in-spite of
the ineptitude but as a part of it.
But if the characters/argument/actions/emotions are dead to a viewer, what should that viewer do?
> Or at least, as between myself and Brian, so that one of us can argue for
_the possibility_ that the power is not in predefined aesthetic "theories"
but rather in the experiential value of the work as a whole.
But to experience the power you have to gain access to it in the first place.
> There are no aesthetic-techniques that are specific to any art-medium so
that if an artist doesn't follow those aesthetic techniques she/he should
just stop working in that art medium.
But there are formal properties the skillful manipulation of which creates an alternative entrance into the story for those viewers who are unable to enter through the VEEP doorway. I think a good artist makes both avenues viable.
> Similarly, Brian grossly overestimates the movies made by Douglas Sirk
I think Douglas Sirk made one good movie -- IMITATION OF LIFE. The rest of his work leaves me cold.
> The mise en scène of "Imitation of Life" is fantastic.
Agreed.
> It had to do with the star power of one of the worse Hollywood
actresses Lana Turner. She was wooden, she had a tin-ear for every
line she said, either reciting the lines in a monotone because she
didn't know how to convey them, or giving us false emotions at all
of the wrong times.
And Sirk played her like a Stradivarius. Talk about story. The story of this film is the relationship between black and white culture in America in 1959. The moment when Lora poses, facing screen left as Annie (offscreen right) explains that the reason Lora never realized Annie had so many friends was that she never bothered to ask is pure genius. All Turner's tin-ear woodeness becomes the perfect correlative for the blindness/deafness of white America in 1959. Turner's frozen posture and look is a great piece of acting from one of Hollywood's least gifted actresses.
> The acting of Juanita Moore and Susanah Kohner soar above the pathetic
script, and they together with the brilliant directing of Sirk in their
scenes together, almost save the movie.
Their last scene in the hotel together is flawless (and was actually the first one shot).
> But nothing in the end can save this script from Lana Turner and
Sandra Dee.
Who needs to be saved from them? Their performances were the perfect embodiment of whiny, self-absorbed, complacent 1950's America and are a perfect counterpoint to the more heartfelt performances of Moore and Kohner.
> with sentimentalism substituted for emotion
A perfect representation of 1950's America's shallow piety about its (alleged) ideals as opposed to a full-bodied living out of them.
> the strength and weakness in the stories.
The plot is nonsense. But as a story about America it is superb. Maybe I respond to IMITATION OF LIFE as you respond to THE SOPRANOS.
Brian