(no subject)
sitting in a wireless zone on the colllege campus. time: 5 42 am. state: plastered. mind: everywhere.
Just watched INLAND EMPIRE with my friend Sarah, who began to vomit from alcohol during the last 7 minutes. Me? I began to realize the truly distubring content of the film - not the surrealism, the non-linearism, the experimentation, nor the general weirdness of the film. I am an actor, and I realized that, at least for me, the film is about acting - whether 'acting' is in one's daily life or on the stage or on the camera. After everything the multiple characters of actor Laura Dern go through during the 3 hour duration of INLAND EMPIRE, we see Laura Dern standing alone in room 47/Rabbit room, which essentially is her curtain call. We do not see the audience. She does not see the audience. All she sees is the film projector light and/or the stage lights shining on her. And the applause and cheering of the audience is a completely canned, artificial audio track, that repeats over and over again. After everything she goes through, she is still trapped within a one-way entertainment network, where there is no two-way relationship between the performer and the spectator. The spectator doesn't even exist. THIS is the tragedy of INLAND EMPIRE. Her performance is not even acknowledged.
I am afraid. I am suspicious. And I am completely at the will of anyone who chooses to take advantage of me (personally, academically, and/or professionally).
I am Isaiah.
Just watched INLAND EMPIRE with my friend Sarah, who began to vomit from alcohol during the last 7 minutes. Me? I began to realize the truly distubring content of the film - not the surrealism, the non-linearism, the experimentation, nor the general weirdness of the film. I am an actor, and I realized that, at least for me, the film is about acting - whether 'acting' is in one's daily life or on the stage or on the camera. After everything the multiple characters of actor Laura Dern go through during the 3 hour duration of INLAND EMPIRE, we see Laura Dern standing alone in room 47/Rabbit room, which essentially is her curtain call. We do not see the audience. She does not see the audience. All she sees is the film projector light and/or the stage lights shining on her. And the applause and cheering of the audience is a completely canned, artificial audio track, that repeats over and over again. After everything she goes through, she is still trapped within a one-way entertainment network, where there is no two-way relationship between the performer and the spectator. The spectator doesn't even exist. THIS is the tragedy of INLAND EMPIRE. Her performance is not even acknowledged.
I am afraid. I am suspicious. And I am completely at the will of anyone who chooses to take advantage of me (personally, academically, and/or professionally).
I am Isaiah.