Ross noted:
>
> Incidentally it is interesting how the Film-Philosophy Salon often talks
at
> length about bad to middling popular films. Is there something
particualarly
> philosophical about bad art. Is there something particularly philosophical
> about science fiction and romance narrative. Is it like those classic
> examples in philosophical education that are used to starkly (and
therefore
> usually badly)illustrate certain concepts. It reminds me of Schlegels
> remark. The trouble with the philosophy of art is that it lacks one of two
> things. The philosophy or the art.

Bravo Ross. It's something that has puzzled me about this discussion group
since I first encountered it. I still can't get over the inches spilled on
``Pearl Harbor,'' of all things, last summer, while I can't recall a single
mention here of, to mention only one great film from last year, Jafar
Panahi's ``The Circle.'' So far this year, there has been no discussion of
any number of fascinating, extraordinary new films, including Cuaron's ``Y
Tu Mama Tambien,'' Haneke's ``The Piano Teacher/Le Pianiste)'' and Cantet's
``Time Out/L'Emploi du Temps.'' These three, which have enjoyed excellent
European runs and are attracting strong audiences in the U.S., marvellously
explore social themes through the prism of endlessly interesting characters
who are distinctly contemporary in their concerns, passions and crises, and
all three films mark notable advances for all three directors. Arguably,
they are all masterpieces. Thanks, Ross, for the unintended prompt to make
mention of these movies. There are a few others of note--Bill Paxton's
``Frailty,'' ``Changing Lanes,'' and the one I can't wait to catch, Bela
Tarr's ``Werkmeister Harmonies,'' which is tardily getting to the U.S.
    Perhaps the academic preoccupation with genre (science fiction in the
case of ``Star Wars'', war movies in the case of ``Pearl Harbor,'' horror
movies), the ongoing fascination with B movies and the ``forgotten'' corners
of movie history, those zones which can be recovered and re-examined in
academic publications like various research specimens--all of these and more
may be part of why a lot of mediocre (and worse) movies are mulled over in
the discussion. I find it frustrating to witness that kind of discussion,
since the side of cinema which is created out of personal impulse, outside
of genre, outside of a corporate strategem, once again gets ignored, as it
is typically ignored in the popular press. (A nice exception in this salon
has  been the postings on Jordan Belson, a neglected but great experimenter
who had the playful urges of Harry Partch mixed with the scientific
yearnings of a Buckminster Fuller.) The gravitational pull in much of this
discussion is definitely not toward a Belson, or, as I noticed several weeks
ago, an Antonioni. (I couldn't help but notice how a few postings on
Antonioni by myself and a few others went absolutely nowhere; this, for the
greatest living filmmaker, and I think, the greatest filmmaker in cinema
history--``the father of modern film,'' no less, as Deleuze called him.) Was
it, I wondered, because nobody cares anymore about Antonioni? No; the
evidence is everywhere that he matters more than ever, that his impact is as
great as it's ever been. Perhaps it's because he has largely functioned
outside genre, and had begun for some to symbolize a certain kind of ``'60s
art film'' that had for them become outre. I don't know, and besides, that
reduction of Antonioni is just silly and wrong. Perhaps a certain
deconstructionist skepticism about the notions of ``quality,'' of ``art,''
had entered into this as well--ironic, since past deconstructionist writing
on Antonioni and his peers, such as by Sam Rohdie, has made a great impact
on film criticism. Whatever reasons, the results are a general neglect of
the most exciting current cinema, and an ongoing fascination with a
Kael-esque ``trash'' ethic. (She would have hated ``The Piano Teacher,'' if
I know Pauline...) There's not much to be done, except to argue for one's
case. My case champions the
Antonioni-Resnais-Angelopoulos-Ruiz-Malick-Greenaway tradition. Call it the
tradition of experimental narrative cinema. Others champion other
traditions. That's wonderful. But it is disturbing when such already
excessively hyped Hollywood machines as ``Episode II'' and ``Pearl Harbor''
seem to suck up all the oxygen, all with the supposed of examining the
impact of a ``cultural product.'' ``Is there something philosophical about
bad art''? Hard to say; bad art's main value, I would argue, is to simply
highlight, by contrast, what good art is. (``Pearl Harbor's'' decrepit
nature makes it far easier to underline the strengths of ``The Thin Red
Line.'') The point is, it seems, is not to lose oneself in ``Pearl Harbor,''
when there is ``The Thin Red Line'' out there to really explore.
Thanks Ross for your thoughts.
Robert Koehler