Saturday, March 22, 2008

Mein Herz Brennt

I have completely forgotten to review Fur, a movie I watched last weekend. It is an imaginary portait of the photographer Diane Arbus, starring Nicole Kidman and Robert Downey Jr. Arbus made a name for herself portraying the "weird" (transvestites, little people, giants, prostitutes, people with physical abnormalities...), and the movie is based on theories of the photographer's intimate knowledge of the things she chose to photograph.

I am a fan of Arbus' work - and love it when references to her pictures are made in pop culture. You will find a striking blueprint of the portrayal of the scary twins in The Shining (which again was copied in the 30 Seconds to Mars video The Kill), and any Lynch fan will recognize a certain giant from a red walled room. Critics have said the movie is too imaginary and that it does not in the slightest hint to the tragic end of Arbus' life (killed herself in 1971). I think this critizism is rather pointless, as the point of the film is not to biography her life as much as to artistically speculate in what the basis of her fascination with the unusual was. I liked it very much, it is a beautiful film and a very Alice in Wonderland-like script.

I believe everyone has something that makes them tick, a fetish of sorts. This is a private thing for most, and unconscious for many, while some wear their hearts on their sleeves. I don't think any way is right or wrong, but I do think it is a highly interesting and attractive feature of the human race*. Imagine how many people have lead deeply unhappy lives because they have not been free to live out their dreams. Artists/movies/books that make it easier by shedding light on what we find weird are beautiful things.

* Please note there's a very thick line between what is acceptable and unacceptable. There is, for instance, no beauty in forcing others to do what they won't, child molesting, nor murder.

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