The Homogenization of the American Parable

I recently sat down to watch The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) and Limelight (1952) both for the first time. For the longest time, Humphrey Bogart's tent-pole and Charlie Chaplin's final great film have been embarrassing features on my must watch list. Sierra Madre is featured on a lot of Must See movie lists including AFI's Top 100. It's currently at 76 on imdb's Top 250 and it is often considered one of the quintessential westerns of Hollywood's golden age. I used to not think too highly of westerns but after growing accustomed to the stoic glares of Clint Eastwood and the tall man's swagger of John Wayne, I have gained a stalwart appreciation for them that rivals the gusto of any old-timer who remembers Hee-Haw. Likewise Limelight is considered a masterpiece. A retrospective triumph that brings Chaplin's career full-circle while telling the charming story of an aging comedian mentoring a young ballerina.

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre does not disappoint and certainly deserves its accolades. It's smartly written, excellently filmed and brilliantly acted. Like many westerns it is more than just mean-looking men with pistols on horseback but a parable about mans' potential and shortcomings. Bogart and his compatriots play prospective gold miners who in time grow to mistrust each other as they dig in the lawless wilderness of central Mexico. What starts as small slights and unclear motives soon become outright rivalry brewing to the point of violence.

Limelight, while not on the same level as Charlie Chaplin's silent classics like City Lights (1931) and The Kid

(1921), it likewise guides us though a maxim or two about human nature; a little more hopeful than Sierra Madre but no less truthful. Like the farmer who reaps and feasts during the harvest, a man of wisdom and knowledge must plant seeds for the next season through mentoring and tutelage.

The point of parable is to tell stories with an intent of making a moral point. Moral points that are culturally accepted and part of the social construct that we create for ourselves to give life meaning. "Do unto others as you would like unto you," "A man is known by the company he keeps," "He who attempts to please everyone, pleases no one." etc. In this case the key takeaway from Sierra Madre is avarice leads to man's undoing. In Limelight: cathedral build.

Carpe diem bro! Seize the carp!

In recent decades there seems to be a lack of diversity in the messages placed in the stories we tell. Entire genres of film are now dedicated to a single thread of thought. Romantic comedies: love conquers all, superhero movies: good triumphs over evil, in coming-of-age dramas: just be yourself and finally in general comedies: carpe diem. Don't get me wrong, occasionally one movie comes along and pilfers through Aesop's fables. However even in the independent film world, the focus is more on how to bring innovative high-concepts to the screen with a smaller price tag than uncovering deep truths about human nature. Big budget blockbusters? Forget about it.

I'll teach you to cannibalize my childhood!

High quality blockbusters focus less on human interaction than they do on geopolitical musings. Take the perfectly high-quality popcorn flick The Avengers (2012); in-depth analysis would lead to discussions about its subtle political implications. Perhaps something about the commercialization of our youth; blah blah blah. Notice there's nothing in there about personal relationships or recognition of some universally recognized truths. It's all larger than life characters walking through larger than life sets making statements about larger than life things. But on a intimate level I feel we come to a point in time where our society no longer has much to say.

Special effects like this!

Thankfully with DVD, blu-ray and Netflix we can enjoy the American parables as if during their heyday and seed our minds with the musings of the past. While I'm not much for golden age thinking, I am a fan of learning from the past to build a brighter future. After all, for every Charlie Chaplin masterpiece there were a few Mr. Moto movies. For every John Ford western there was a Roy Rogers joint and for every good human centered story there were a dozen cheaply made B-movies with little to say other than look at these "state-of-the-art" special effects.