thedrifter
02-13-05, 08:07 AM
Apologies To Alexander
February 12, 2005
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by Jay Beuoy
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I was struck with a wave of guilt upon reading the recent comments by director Oliver Stone. Mr. Stone blamed the box office losses of his epic, Alexander, on "moral fundamentalism" in the U.S. I feel compelled to offer my mea culpa.
As a "moral fundamentalist", a dreaded evangelical, I feel responsible. It is true. I am one from the unwashed masses who contributed to the dismal failure of this tragically ignored tragedy. Confession is good for the soul, (if one believes in the soul), so I confess my prejudice. It just didn 't seem like my kind of movie. My small mind wasn't ready for what Stone called a "masculine/feminine action hero," a switch-hitting swashbuckler.
Poor Mr. Stone! You have suffered great torment for your art. It must be far more excruciating for you to lose one hundred and sixteen million dollars making an unintended "disaster film", than it would have been for me to waste seven dollars. I supported Mel Gibson by watching The Passion three times in the theatre. I could have watched Alexander at least once, no matter how personally painful, if only for humanitarian reasons.
You said at the premier in London that this epic of yours is too complex for "conventional minds." I think you're right. My gut told me that my conventional mind would have demanded conventional rules such as a well-defined plot, internal coherence, character development, pathos and historical accuracy.
Drat my conventional conventionalities! Woe is me! I am deficient and hopelessly simple. As much as I am embarrassed to admit it, I still go to the movies for little more than the off chance of being entertained. I wish I were better, but I am not.
Please don't take this as a criticism. I wouldn't want to heap upon your ego any more abuse than you've already taken. Why, though, I wonder, did you take the risk of spending one hundred and fifty million dollars on a film that plebeians like me couldn't possibly appreciate?
I understand that we are mindless and lacking of all reason, but a man of superior intelligence like you might have seen this one coming. I trust you really are in Europe for the premier and not there merely to escape a leg-breaker from the studios named Vinny. If you were "taken out" by disgruntled investors, I would not be able to forgive myself.
I can only hope that you have willingly offered your professional career on the altar of your idealistic and ironically tragic sense of greatness. Perhaps you came to the end of "Hollyworld." Weeping at the thought of no more minds to conquer, you simply died a metaphorical death for your craft. Was that it?
Fear not! Your elite cadre of brothers and sisters in the biz will bear your lifeless effigy homeward, lifted high upon their shoulders as they sing great songs of valor, and heroic self-sacrifice. You took a risk and lost, but in doing so you struck a blow for hyper-effete artisans everywhere. Hold your head high. Though your film may achieve the ignominious distinction of under performing Howard The Duck or Gigli, your suicidal quest was noble and quixotic. Hail, the defeated hero!
Forgive us, Oliver. We did not know what we were doing. Were we as sophisticated as you, we might have given your magnum opus a chance. Sadly, we appear to be cultural barbarians, and it seems that the barbarians have routed the Macedonian.
Jay Beuoy
Ellie
February 12, 2005
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
by Jay Beuoy
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was struck with a wave of guilt upon reading the recent comments by director Oliver Stone. Mr. Stone blamed the box office losses of his epic, Alexander, on "moral fundamentalism" in the U.S. I feel compelled to offer my mea culpa.
As a "moral fundamentalist", a dreaded evangelical, I feel responsible. It is true. I am one from the unwashed masses who contributed to the dismal failure of this tragically ignored tragedy. Confession is good for the soul, (if one believes in the soul), so I confess my prejudice. It just didn 't seem like my kind of movie. My small mind wasn't ready for what Stone called a "masculine/feminine action hero," a switch-hitting swashbuckler.
Poor Mr. Stone! You have suffered great torment for your art. It must be far more excruciating for you to lose one hundred and sixteen million dollars making an unintended "disaster film", than it would have been for me to waste seven dollars. I supported Mel Gibson by watching The Passion three times in the theatre. I could have watched Alexander at least once, no matter how personally painful, if only for humanitarian reasons.
You said at the premier in London that this epic of yours is too complex for "conventional minds." I think you're right. My gut told me that my conventional mind would have demanded conventional rules such as a well-defined plot, internal coherence, character development, pathos and historical accuracy.
Drat my conventional conventionalities! Woe is me! I am deficient and hopelessly simple. As much as I am embarrassed to admit it, I still go to the movies for little more than the off chance of being entertained. I wish I were better, but I am not.
Please don't take this as a criticism. I wouldn't want to heap upon your ego any more abuse than you've already taken. Why, though, I wonder, did you take the risk of spending one hundred and fifty million dollars on a film that plebeians like me couldn't possibly appreciate?
I understand that we are mindless and lacking of all reason, but a man of superior intelligence like you might have seen this one coming. I trust you really are in Europe for the premier and not there merely to escape a leg-breaker from the studios named Vinny. If you were "taken out" by disgruntled investors, I would not be able to forgive myself.
I can only hope that you have willingly offered your professional career on the altar of your idealistic and ironically tragic sense of greatness. Perhaps you came to the end of "Hollyworld." Weeping at the thought of no more minds to conquer, you simply died a metaphorical death for your craft. Was that it?
Fear not! Your elite cadre of brothers and sisters in the biz will bear your lifeless effigy homeward, lifted high upon their shoulders as they sing great songs of valor, and heroic self-sacrifice. You took a risk and lost, but in doing so you struck a blow for hyper-effete artisans everywhere. Hold your head high. Though your film may achieve the ignominious distinction of under performing Howard The Duck or Gigli, your suicidal quest was noble and quixotic. Hail, the defeated hero!
Forgive us, Oliver. We did not know what we were doing. Were we as sophisticated as you, we might have given your magnum opus a chance. Sadly, we appear to be cultural barbarians, and it seems that the barbarians have routed the Macedonian.
Jay Beuoy
Ellie