WHEN: 5:07pm EST, January 18th, 2013
WHERE: In my apartment in Portland, ME
FORMAT: Blu-Ray on a Vizio 47″ LCD HDTV
MY PET FROG:
When I was very young I had a pet frog. I loved it very much, and spent many a fun-filled hour watching it happily jump around its terrarium. What a wonder this small animal was. What gave it the power to jump so? I didn’t give a rat’s ass. I loved it, and while it was a frog and probably had no emotions, I felt that it loved me. Those were the happy days.
But then I got older, and I went to school. I learned many new things. The more I learned, the more I wondered. I began to wonder why my frog jumped, and how. So, at the suggestion of a friend, I took it into the lab and took it apart with a scalpel. I learned many things about my frog, and how it jumped and played. But when I was done taking it apart, it wouldn’t jump and play no more. It was sad and dead.
Okay. I was lying. I’ve never owned a frog. This was a stupid allegory.
WHAT THE STUPID ALLEGORY MEANS:
It is a fresh new year of this experiment, and I am really excited to be watching Jurassic Park. I am having a blast. I am really enjoying watching Jurassic Park. I am not enjoying writing about it. I think this is because I’m somewhat afraid of ruining the magic.Every time I sit down to start analyzing some element of Jurassic Park, I run into a case of writer’s block. I feel like my heart isn’t in it. Each new week, I’m excited to sit down and watch the film, but I stop myself, because I can’t think of an angle to come at it from. My suspicion is that I love this movie too much to start tearing into it with a scalpel just yet. Case in point, this week when I sat down to watch the movie, I didn’t have a solid goal in mind for the viewing, so I started making a half-assed list of instances of InGen’s incompetence. I should have busloads of things to say about this theme, which runs throughout the film.
Is that forklift driver wearing his seat-belt?
It is one of the core themes of the piece, and has any number of implications. Despite this, around the sick Triceratops scene, I became engrossed in the film and couldn’t bring myself to keep taking notes.
Film analysis has never been a prerequisite to this experiment, but it has been my goal to have something interesting to say about my film, or the experience of watching the film, each week. (Even if what i’m saying is really stupid.) This year, I fear my love of my movie is stopping me from really digging into its meat to get a better understanding of how it ticks. I think that I am afraid of taking too close a look, for fear that I will kill my beloved movie. I don’t want to see the moments where the puppets meld with CG. I don’t want to find out that an amazing shot was created by nailing a kitten to a log. Discovery, as Ian Malcolm says, “is a violent penetrative act, that scars what it explores.”
“What you call film criticism, I call the rape of the cinematic world.”
But at the same time, I really want to find out what makes this critter tick. Love the movie as I do, I really want to take a closer look at how it works. And I will. It just might take a couple of weeks. To use another frog-based analogy, I just need to let the water boil around me until I’m acclimated.
Then we’ll slice this toad open.
I WOULD BE REMISS IF I DID NOT MENTION:
Becca noted that for someone who spends her time digging up plant fossils for a living, Dr. Sattler has awfully nice nails. She also gets some dino shit on her leg.
And… Exhibit B.