My name is JAmes and in less than 5 months, I’ll be dead…
As you’ve probably concluded from the title of this post, I finally saw American Beauty. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and rarely do I ever feel completely satisfied with anything, or anyone. If you choose to look behind the curtain, maybe you’ll find something useful. If not, then there’s always tomorrow, hopefully…
I was always under the impression that the film was about a lolita style relationship between Kevin Spacey and Mena Suvari. I couldn’t have been more ignorant. Truly, I feel it’s about the beauty of America, where choice is a virtue valued above so many aspects of daily living, and for a few, even more than success. The beauty of choice is found in the fact that we as individuals can take risks, make mistakes, and at the end of the day be able to call it “experience.”
I’ve heard that no one really knows where the edge is, the only people who really know are the ones who’ve gone over it. Lester Burnham stopped right before he went over that edge, and that’s what makes him such a great character. He recognized beauty, held it right in his hands, and he chose to preserve it. Looking at the family photo at the end, he valued the gift of being a father. He finally recognized himself as something more than an unhappy husband suffering from a mid-life crisis, and he was content with the image he saw in the photograph.
I don’t think the real tragedy comes at the end of the movie, it’s really in all the years that have already passed. That is time that Lester couldn’t get back. After years and years of being confined to his social category, he finally decides to liberate himself. I find it ironic how once he does so, he’s ostracized and painted as a loser. If you think about it, many women chose to do the same, and are mostly cheered on. Men are still stuck in these traditional roles, and yet some women allow themselves to play the victim, then turn that momentum against their male counterparts. Men aren’t socially allowed to do that. I’m not trying to be sexist, I’m just stating an observation. Honestly though, there are too many people wondering around aimlessly through life, attempting to apply meaning to their actions before they even apply meaning to themselves.
My favorite scene was where Ricky was talking to Jane about his most treasured recording, the plastic bag. Though I didn’t catch on right away, I never discounted the fact that beauty could be found in the plastic bag. The very first thing I learned about the humanities was that taste is an exercise in values. Our world is centered on aesthetic subjectivism, and what I view as relevant to my life and my tastes may not always be appreciated by others. Even some people reading this are probably thinking I’m full of shit, and you know what? I don’t discount the fact that I may indeed be full of shit. But this is the point, people manipulate beauty by placing it on a conveyor belt called aesthetic absolutism. We can lust after the absolute, and chase the comfort in “knowing,” but just because we obtain those things doesn’t mean we can ever truly appreciate them. And that, that is consumption on the grandest scale, that is America.
Throughout the film, I kept coming back to one phrase in particular. It scares me to think about it’s implications, but it’s something I have to further explore. I think it went something like…Never underestimate the power of denial. For the longest time, I’ve fooled myself into believing that I was living for happiness. Well, I’ve realized I should be living in happiness. But happiness is not worth deluding my philosophies, my relationships, or myself. I will not sustain the harshness of my reality with religion, money, or love. One day, I will defy the preconceived notion of success, with my only expectation being free from expectations.
After watching the movie with Peter, Dudley, and Danny, we went to play catch. It was so incredibly hot today, and though I didn’t feel like engaging in any physical activities, I did so anyway. It actually kind of felt good to be uncomfortable, being caught off guard by the heat, by the subtle breeze whistling through the trees. I didn’t have my eyeglasses with me either, making me fearful that I may not catch the ball in time before it smacks me in the face. Then, for a second or two, everything stopped. Paralyzed by the heat, buzzing cicadas, and practically blind, a thought came streaking across my mind, the same thought that blanketed me last week in that dark flowing tunnel…this is what it feels like to be alive.
I came home exhausted, and proceeded to sleep. I just woke up and had an urge to write about my day, as boring as it may seem, so…
How was your day?