Words and Pictures
I have stumbled on a movie tonight that has happened at a moment when I have realized that after being ahead of myself on these stories for a dry long time, I have run the kettle dry. I just published a story for tomorrow morning and have to get a jump on Saturday’s story and then Sunday’s, etcetera, etcetera. How unusual that I should stumble on this particular movie staring Clive Owen and Juliet Binoche, both actors I enjoy. Clive first hit my screen in King Arthur, one of the best films I’ve seen about the Arthurian legend. He went on in Closer to get an Oscar nomination and then a great performance in Inside Man. I’ve never felt Clive has realized his full potential, but I am always drawn to movies that he is in and if I see he’s in a film, I tend to watch the film. That’s called being a draw, I think. As for Juliet, I first noticed her in perhaps one of the most impactful films I’ve ever seen, Damage. She and Jeremy Irons have an interchange that is life-changing and oh so memorable…and perhaps instructive about maintaining perspective in life. She went on to do her more memorable work in The English Patient with Ralph Fiennes Chocolat with Johnny Depp. Strangely enough, she is also in one of my most heartfelt movies, Dan in Real Life, with Steve Carrell of all people.
The movie I stumbled on I had never heard of. There actually are a lot of movies made globally each year. IMDB tells us that in the last century plus there have been on average 2,600 films produced each year though far fewer (less than a third) are actually theatrically released to commercial theaters. There is also the problem of defining what constitutes a film since there are TV shows (everything from one-offs to series to made-for-TV movies) and many other forms from animation to documentaries. My point is simply that it should not surprise me that I haven’t heard of a small film, even if it has two of my favorite stars.
So what is this film I stumbled on? It’s called Words and Pictures and it has Clive and Juliet as prep school teachers who teach English and Art respectively. Naturally, there is an eventual and well-played romantic interest between the two, but the real story is about and ongoing debate between the impact and importance of words versus pictures. Actually its about prose versus art. Clive is a drunk who is well-read and well-spoken who loves the English language and is a true student of prose and used to be a good writer/poet, but who has “lost the fire” somewhere in the bottom of a bottle of Vodka. Juliet is an accomplished and respected artist (as in abstract painting) who has developed a physical disability (crippling rheumatoid arthritis) that is impinging on her art and driven her to teach. Clive is a teacher who used to be a poet and Juliet is an artist who feels forced to teach against her natural instincts.
The two start off with a polite and witty fencing match in the faculty lounge. Clive is a man who likes to play impromptu word games and Juliet is a stern woman of few words who would much rather do than talk about doing. There are many scenes of her painting (with various ingenious mechanical aides) and very few scenes of Clive writing. Rather, Clive gets his screen time mostly while drunk or getting there, even to the point of drinking his lunch in his car from his thermos.
The reason this debate is so poignant to me is that I am clearly a writer of prose, a believer in words and their impact. I’ve never chosen to denigrate the importance, impact or value of art as an expressive medium, but it simply not my vehicle of choice. When I recently travelled to Florida, one of my friends, a guy I worked for many years ago, and for whom I have just ghost-written a quasi-biographical novel of his days in the military, I noticed all the artwork in his home that bore his signature. I had no idea that he was a painter. I did know we was not a writer. It makes me wonder if people’s brains are wired one way or the other. Are we all pre-destined by virtue of our right or left brains to be visual versus thoughtful? I don’t mean to imply that artists are not thoughtful, but there are more words available to describe artistry than it seems there are for those preferring the written word. Strange reality when you think about it.
When my daughter was at Cornell and studying Art History, part of my giving was focused on establishing a fund to support visual studies in the College or Arts & Sciences. I never funded anything at Cornell to support writing. In fact, other than required course assignments, I did not even use my college years to develop my writing toolbox. I did that after being a hard-working banker after almost fifteen years. I felt the need for an outlet and writing was that outlet that I chose. I have now written perhaps 1,500 or more stories and add to that portfolio every day pretty much without fail.
But wait, I am also a visual person to be sure. If I am not writing, I am watching movies in the evening. I rarely listen to podcasts, which are stories with words and no pictures. And during the day, while I can and do occasionally write, I spend far more of my time doing what can only be characterized as visual with all of my gardening activity. In fact, I have now painted about 15 boulders in one way or another. I have also added at least that many sculptures of some sort between the back hillside, the patio and the garden. I have adopted a hobby of bonsai, which is all about developing a visual rendering of the ideals of nature. This house is a visual house. It’s views in every direction are a big part of its appeal and we have enhanced that by artfully adding to the landscape and beauty of our surroundings on the hillside.
Strangely enough, it is that integration of words and pictures that the film depicts in the end and it is the same coming together that I have come to naturally and without overthinking it here on this hilltop in retirement. Ain’t it wonderful when art (and words) imitate life?