Has Wes Anderson Sold Out? Can He Sell Out? Critics Take Up the Debate

Ear­li­er this month, we post­ed a pair of Wes Ander­son-direct­ed tele­vi­sion com­mer­cials adver­tis­ing the Hyundai Azera. While I under­stood that, at one time, a known auteur using his cin­e­mat­ic pow­ers to pitch sen­si­ble sedans would have raised hack­les, I did­n’t real­ize that it could still spark a live­ly debate today. See­ing as Open Cul­ture has already fea­tured com­mer­cials by the likes of David Lynch, Fred­eri­co Felli­ni, Ing­mar Bergman, and Jean-Luc Godard — and I could­n’t resist link­ing to Errol Mor­ris’ when dis­cussing El Wingador — I assumed any issues sur­round­ing this sort of busi­ness had already been set­tled. On Twit­ter, the New York­er’s Richard Brody, author of a hefty tome on Godard, seemed to cor­rob­o­rate this con­clu­sion: “Bergman made com­mer­cials, so did Godard; the more dis­tinc­tive the artist, the less the artist need wor­ry about it.” “Also,” the Chica­go Sun-Times’ Jim Emer­son tweet­ed, “the, con­cept of “sell­out” no longer exists.”

From all the ensu­ing back-and-forth between crit­ics and cinephiles emerged Brody’s New York­er blog post, “Wes Ander­son: Clas­sics and Com­mer­cials.” Point­ing out that “so many great paint­ings were made for popes and kings and patrons, and great build­ings spon­sored by tycoons and cor­po­ra­tions,” Brody finds that “the bet­ter and stronger and more dis­tinc­tive the artist, the more like­ly it is that any­thing he or she does will bear the artist’s mark and embody the artist’s essence. Those who are most endan­gered by the mak­ing of com­mer­cials (of what­ev­er sort in what­ev­er medi­um) are those whose abil­i­ties are more frag­ile, more pre­car­i­ous, more incip­i­ent, less devel­oped.” But a dis­sent­ing voice appears in the com­ment sec­tion: “The rea­son that Godard and Ander­son can make com­mer­cials that feel more like short films is not so much because their tal­ents are more devel­oped; it’s because their rep­u­ta­tion is more secure. [ … ] It would be bet­ter to regard these com­mer­cials as short films financed by a com­pa­ny’s patron­age (with a few strings attached) than as com­mer­cials prop­er.”

An even more force­ful objec­tion comes from Chris Michael in the Guardian: “Is it worth remain­ing scep­ti­cal about art made in the direct ser­vice of a sales pitch? I think it is. Does it cheap­en your tal­ent to con­sis­tent­ly sell its actu­al goals to the high­est bid­der? I think it does. When the goal or per­sua­sive intent does not ‘res­onate with audi­ence in mean­ing­ful way’, but rather ’employ style to con­flate love for artist with love for prod­uct’, there’s a gen­uine, full-frontal, non-imag­i­nary assault on the integri­ty of the art’s mean­ing. Bet­ter to ask: What mean­ing? What art? Tak­ing it fur­ther, can a car ad ever be art?” When Slate’s For­rest Wick­man entered the fray, he hauled a Dar­ren Aronof­sky-direct­ed Kohl’s spot in with him to demon­strate that “that there is such a thing as sell­ing out,” com­par­ing it unfa­vor­ably with Ander­son­’s ads as “noth­ing more than a sec­ond-rate ripoff, a cheap copy of ads and music videos past.”

Michael remains unim­pressed: “Aronof­sky real­ly sold out least: by not pros­ti­tut­ing his style and deliv­ery, by not wrap­ping any­thing of him­self around a dull car or depart­ment store, by just doing the job for the mon­ey like a pro­fes­sion­al. That, I can respect.” Respond­ing, Brody holds fast in defense of Ander­son­’s ads, one of which he calls “a feat of aston­ish­ing psy­cho­log­i­cal com­plex­i­ty. “These lit­tle films, which hap­pen to be com­mer­cials for a car,” he writes, “share not only the style but also the con­tent, the theme, and the emo­tion­al and per­son­al con­cerns, of Anderson’s fea­ture films. Yes, they’re short. Yes, there’s a dif­fer­ence between what can be devel­oped in two hours and what can be devel­oped in thir­ty seconds—it’s the dif­fer­ence between a poem and a nov­el, between a song and an opera.” Has Wes Ander­son sold out? Is sell­ing out still be pos­si­ble? As in every­thing, dear read­er, the task of weigh­ing the evi­dence and mak­ing the deci­sion falls ulti­mate­ly to you.

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Neil deGrasse Tyson: ‘How Much Would You Pay for the Universe?’

“Nobody’s dream­ing about tomor­row any­more,” says astro­physi­cist Neil deGrasse Tyson in this com­pelling lit­tle video on the decline of the Amer­i­can space pro­gram. “After we stopped going to the moon, it all end­ed. We stopped dream­ing.” The video was put togeth­er by Evan Schurr with mate­r­i­al from var­i­ous sources. In it, Tyson asks us to imag­ine the pos­si­bil­i­ties for tomor­row if NASA’s bud­get were increased to just one pen­ny for every tax dol­lar. It’s a point he raised ear­li­er this month before a U.S. Sen­ate com­mit­tee (read the full tes­ti­mo­ny here), when he said:

The 2008 bank bailout of $750 bil­lion was greater than all the mon­ey NASA had received in its half-cen­tu­ry his­to­ry; two years’ U.S. mil­i­tary spend­ing exceeds it as well. Right now, NASA’s annu­al bud­get is half a pen­ny on your tax dol­lar. For twice that–a pen­ny on a dollar–we can trans­form the coun­try from a sullen, dispir­it­ed nation, weary of eco­nom­ic strug­gle, to one where it has reclaimed its 20th cen­tu­ry birthright to dream of tomor­row.

via The Dai­ly Beast

Bruce Springsteen’s Personal Journey Through Rock ‘n’ Roll (Slightly NSFW But Simply Great)

We know that Bruce Spring­steen can put on an amaz­ing show. We saw him do that last week­end at the Apol­lo The­ater in Harlem. (Watch it here.) Now, you’ll dis­cov­er that the Boss can give a damn fine speech too. Pre­sent­ing the keynote address at SXSW yes­ter­day, Spring­steen took his audi­ence on a per­son­al jour­ney through rock ’n’ roll, remem­ber­ing the bands that gave birth to the musi­cal form and that pro­vid­ed inspi­ra­tion for a young musi­cian grow­ing up in New Jer­sey. Elvis, The Bea­t­les, Bob Dylan, The Ani­mals, and James Brown get their due. As does Woody Guthrie. The talk, which fea­tures Spring­steen play­ing some gui­tar along the way, runs 51 min­utes. And it has a few NSFW words sprin­kled in, though they don’t feel gra­tu­itous, at least not to me. Sit back and enjoy.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Bea­t­les’ Rooftop Con­cert: The Last Gig (1969)

Neil Young Busk­ing in Glas­gow, 1976: The Sto­ry Behind the Footage

Jim­my Page Tells the Sto­ry of “Kash­mir”

Hitchcock on Happiness

It’s a sim­ple recipe for hap­pi­ness. Elim­i­nate all neg­a­tive emo­tions, any­thing that cre­ates bad feel­ings and dis­tracts from the project at hand. Clear it all away, and what’s left? The space for cre­ativ­i­ty pure and sim­ple. That’s hap­pi­ness for Hitch. Watch 20 Free Hitch­cock Films online here.

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Beginnings Profiles Shakespeare and Company’s Sylvia Beach Whitman

Last Decem­ber, we fea­tured the doc­u­men­tary Por­trait of a Book­store as an Old Man in trib­ute to its recent­ly passed sub­ject, not­ed book­seller and eccen­tric George Whit­man. His store Shake­speare and Com­pa­ny has sent a bea­con from Paris’ Left Bank to writ­ers and bib­lio­philes the world over for six­ty years, and it con­tin­ues to do so under Whit­man’s daugh­ter, Sylvia Beach Whit­man. While prac­ti­cal­ly every book­store in busi­ness today takes pains to set itself apart as some­thing “more than just a book­store,” Shake­speare and Com­pa­ny has been hip to that plan since its incep­tion, offer­ing a read­ing library, Sun­day tea, a sto­ried makeshift writ­ers’ colony, and a taste of the ear­ly twen­ti­eth-cen­tu­ry’s expa­tri­ate-filled Parisian lit­er­ary scene. Read­ers well-versed in the his­to­ry of that scene will notice a clever bit of attempt­ed pre­des­ti­na­tion on George Whit­man’s part in nam­ing his daugh­ter after Sylvia Beach, the Amer­i­can founder of anoth­er famous book­store called Shake­speare and Com­pa­ny, which oper­at­ed from 1921 to 1941.

You can learn more about Sylvia Beach Whit­man — much more than you’d expect to in under four min­utes — from art-world doc­u­men­tar­i­an Chiara Clemente’s pro­file of her on the Sun­dance Chan­nel’s doc­u­men­tary series Begin­nings. Whit­man remem­bers her days as Shake­speare and Com­pa­ny’s offi­cial mop­pet, when its writ­ers in res­i­dence — her “hun­dreds of broth­ers and sis­ters” — would tell her cus­tom-made bed­time sto­ries before flop­ping down on their own beds built atop the book piles. She’s since grown up and gone on to do big things with the store, includ­ing start­ing a bien­ni­al lit­er­ary fes­ti­val which has brought in the likes of Jung Chang, Paul Auster, David Hare, and Perse­po­lis author Mar­jane Satrapi, who fea­tures in a Begin­nings short of her own (see above). When not hard at work on a page of com­ic art, Satrapi lights up a cig­a­rette and remem­bers how, due to the last forty years of con­stant polit­i­cal churn in her native Iran, no Iran­ian of her gen­er­a­tion has lived any­thing like a “nor­mal” life. The series also cov­ers the ear­ly lives and first inspi­ra­tions of cre­ators includ­ing shoe design­er Chris­t­ian Louboutin, Blue Hill chef Dan Bar­ber, and… well, you can’t describe Yoko Ono as any­thing but Yoko Ono. But you can watch her episode of Begin­nings on NYTimes.com and hear about her strug­gle to find her way to the avant-garde after emerg­ing from her fam­i­ly’s artis­tic tra­di­tion­al­ism. H/T New York­er

Relat­ed con­tent:

Remem­ber­ing George Whit­man, Own­er of Famed Book­store, Shake­speare & Com­pa­ny

Spike Jonze Presents a Stop Motion Film Set at Shake­speare and Com­pa­ny

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Autonomous Flying Robots Play the Theme From the James Bond Movies

Yes­ter­day we fea­tured a video of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Sweet Home Alaba­ma” being played on a pair of Tes­la coils. Today we keep the music going with some­thing per­haps even more amaz­ing: a swarm of autonomous fly­ing robots play­ing the theme from the James Bond movies.

The robots were devel­oped at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Penn­syl­va­ni­a’s Gen­er­al Robot­ics, Automa­tion, Sens­ing and Per­cep­tion (GRASP) lab by grad­u­ate stu­dents Daniel Mellinger and Alex Kushleyev, founders of KMel Robot­ics, under the super­vi­sion of Pro­fes­sor Vijay Kumar. The researchers are work­ing to devel­op agile, autonomous fly­ing robots that can mim­ic the swarm­ing behav­iors of birds, fish and insects. In the video above, which was cre­at­ed spe­cial­ly for Kumar’s Feb­ru­ary 29 TED talk, a swarm of nine quadro­tor heli­copters play musi­cal instru­ments. An arti­cle on the UPenn web­site explains:

In this demon­stra­tion, the “stage” is in a room fit­ted with infrared lights and cam­eras. The nano quads all have reflec­tors on their struts, which allows the cam­era sys­tem to plot their exact posi­tion and relay that infor­ma­tion wire­less­ly to each unit.

Lab mem­bers can then assign each unit a series of way­points in three-dimen­sion­al space that must be reached at an exact time. In this case, those times and places trans­late into notes on a key­board or a strum of a gui­tar. Fig­ur­ing out how to get from way­point to way­point most effi­cient­ly and with­out dis­turb­ing their neigh­bors is up to the robots.

The robots are remark­ably agile, and may some­day be use­ful for a wide vari­ety of appli­ca­tions. To learn more, watch Kumar’s 17-minute TED talk, below, which includes sev­er­al aston­ish­ing video demon­stra­tions of the robots in action.

via Cos­mic Vari­ance

“Sweet Home Alabama” Played on Tesla Coils (and More Culture Around the Web)

You can cre­ate music with Tes­la coils if you know how to mod­u­late their “break rate” with MIDI data and a con­trol unit. Case in point. Here we have two sol­id state musi­cal Tes­la coils, using a com­bined 24KW of pow­er, to play a ver­sion of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s 1974 clas­sic “Sweet Home Alaba­ma” (lis­ten to the orig­i­nal here). Also enjoy elec­tri­fied ver­sions of House of The Ris­ing Sun and Duel­ing Ban­jos. via @webacion

More Cul­ture from our Twit­ter Stream:

Jack Ker­ouac’s Only Full-Length Play Will Pre­miere, 55 years After It Was Writ­ten

First MITx Course Attracts 90,000 Stu­dents, Prov­ing the Pop­u­lar­i­ty of Online Learn­ing. Find more Free Cours­es here.

Kurt Von­negut: The Bomb­ing of Dres­den and the Cre­ation of Slaugh­ter­house Five

The Lady Anatomist: The Wax Sculp­tures of 18th-Cen­tu­ry Artist-Sci­en­tist Anna Moran­di Man­zoli­ni

The Ili­ad Visu­al­ized. We Helped Inspire the Project Says the Cre­ator!

Paul Ther­oux Reads The Gospel Accord­ing to Mark by Jorge Luis Borges. Added to our Free Audio Books.

“Mr. Gold­man and Mr. Sachs” Record­ed by @theharryshearer in 2009

Cool Old Sci-Fi Sto­ries for Free on Ama­zon. Tip from @Frauenfelder

Jack Ker­ouac Writes a Let­ter to Mar­lon Bran­do

Sci­en­tists Use Thore­au’s Unpub­lished Jour­nals to Track Cli­mate Change

Clas­sic Sci­ence Fic­tion Movies – in Pic­tures

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Keith Haring’s Eclectic Journal Entries Go Online

Tomor­row marks the open­ing of Kei­th Har­ing: 1978–1982, the first “large-scale exhi­bi­tion to explore the ear­ly career of one of the best-known Amer­i­can artists of the twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry.” The exhi­bi­tion, appear­ing at The Brook­lyn Muse­um until July 8, traces the devel­op­ment of Haring’s visu­al vocab­u­lary by show­cas­ing “155 works on paper, numer­ous exper­i­men­tal videos, and over 150 archival objects, includ­ing rarely seen sketch­books, jour­nals, exhi­bi­tion fly­ers, posters, sub­way draw­ings, and doc­u­men­tary pho­tographs.” And, of course, the exhi­bi­tion is accom­pa­nied by a Tum­blr that will host online pages tak­en from Har­ing’s per­son­al jour­nals. The Tum­blr will post one new entry per day (like the one above), through­out the dura­tion of the exhi­bi­tion. You can keep tabs on the entries right here. H/T Metafil­ter

Detour: The Cheap, Rushed Piece of 1940s Film Noir Nobody Ever Forgets

detour_1945
Accord­ing to cin­e­ma lore, Edgar G. Ulmer’s Detour, a slap­dash, unpro­fes­sion­al $20,000 melo­dra­ma shot in a mere mis­take-filled six days, has some­how, over the past 66 years, accrued a siz­able and appre­cia­tive fol­low­ing among film noir enthu­si­asts. Except it turns out that, in real­i­ty, its bud­get prob­a­bly ran to some $117,000. And those six days might have actu­al­ly been three six-day weeks. And the Aus­tri­an-born Ulmer, who had not only worked for such Euro­pean lumi­nar­ies as F.W. Mur­nau, Bil­ly Wilder, and (so he claimed) Fritz Lang, but even made The Black Cat for Uni­ver­sal Pic­tures, hard­ly lacked pro­fes­sion­al bona fides. And the film’s care­ful use of sound and strik­ing use of light set it apart even from its brethren in the genre.

And speak­ing of that genre, a hearty crit­i­cal agree­ment now holds that Detour dis­tills, in its brief 68 min­utes, the most vital emo­tion­al and aes­thet­ic ele­ments of film noir in a way that none of its oth­er exem­plars have man­aged. And mis­takes? What mis­takes? As Roger Ebert wrote on ush­er­ing the film into his Great Movies canon, “Plac­ing style above com­mon sense is com­plete­ly con­sis­tent with Ulmer’s approach through­out the film.”

To recount Detour’s sto­ry here — a piano-play­er down on his luck; a sud­den death; a schem­ing, ven­omous dame — would be to miss the point. To cite out its many, er, uncon­ven­tion­al pro­duc­tion choic­es — nonex­is­tent back­grounds con­cealed with fog, shots sim­ply flipped over and re-used, stock footage meant to pad the run­time almost to fea­ture length, uncon­vinc­ing rear pro­jec­tion even by 1945’s stan­dards — would be to miss the point from anoth­er direc­tion. The film has fall­en into the pub­lic domain, so watch it free online and expe­ri­ence for your­self the way that, for all its appar­ent blunt­ness, it stealth­ily lodges itself in your sense mem­o­ry. To call a movie “dream­like” reeks of cliché, but Detour presents the ele­ments of film noir in such a pure, naked state that you have lit­tle choice but to accept them direct­ly, the way you would accept the “facts” of a dream. Though seem­ing­ly incom­pe­tent on all the lev­els sub­ject to con­scious analy­sis, the film oper­ates effec­tive­ly on all the lev­els beneath, hence the last­ing inspi­ra­tion it offers to cer­tain film­mak­ers today. Make Detour, if you can, a dou­ble-fea­ture with David Lynch’s Lost High­way, which plays almost like a straight trib­ute to Ulmer’s pic­ture. As a ded­i­cat­ed tran­scen­den­tal med­i­ta­tor with a fas­ci­na­tion for the dark side of Los Ange­les and a ten­den­cy to bend arche­typ­al char­ac­ters toward his often oblique but always vivid styl­is­tic will, Lynch has inter­nal­ized Detour’s lega­cy — intend­ed or oth­er­wise — more deeply than any oth­er film­mak­er alive today.

More noir clas­sics can be found in our col­lec­tion of 60+ Free Noir Films.

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Michael Shermer’s Baloney Detection Kit: What to Ask Before Believing

Ear­li­er this week The New York Times pub­lished an inter­est­ing dis­cus­sion between philoso­pher Michael Lynch and physi­cist Alan Sokal on epis­temic first prin­ci­ples, or, as Lynch put it in an ear­li­er essay, the “Rea­sons for Rea­son.” To illus­trate the prac­ti­cal advan­tage of obser­va­tion and induc­tive rea­son­ing in the for­ma­tion of beliefs, Sokal quotes a pas­sage from James Robert Brown’s Who Rules in Sci­ence?:

Cer­tain rea­son­ing pat­terns tend to pro­mote sur­vival; oth­ers don’t. If Og rea­soned: “In the past tigers have reg­u­lar­ly eat­en peo­ple, but I’m sure this one will be quite friend­ly,” then very like­ly Og is not your ances­tor.

Beliefs are impor­tant. How we form them can have pro­found con­se­quences for our own lives and–especially in a democracy–for the lives of the peo­ple around us. In this 15-minute video from the Richard Dawkins Foun­da­tion, Skep­tic mag­a­zine founder and edi­tor Michael Sher­mer gives prac­ti­cal advice on how to sep­a­rate sense from non­sense when form­ing beliefs. The next time some­one tries to con­vince you of a tiger’s friend­li­ness, do your­self a favor and take heed of what Sher­mer has to say.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Robert Altman’s First Film Found at Flea Market (Free to Watch Online)

Long before Robert Alt­man gave us MASH (1970), Nashville (1975), The Play­er (1992) and Gos­ford Park (2001), he paid his dues in the film indus­try, shoot­ing 65 “indus­tri­al movies” dur­ing the 1950s. One such film recent­ly sur­faced in a Kansas City flea mar­ket, and it’s believed to be Alt­man’s first film. Gary Hug­gins, also a film­mak­er, told SF Week­ly, “I bought a stack of old instruc­tion­al films for $10 and nev­er got around to screen­ing them.” “Mod­ern Foot­ball [the title of the dis­cov­ered footage] sound­ed real­ly dull. But when I recent­ly did, I glimpsed Alt­man, who cameos as a sports reporter, and knew I had some­thing incred­i­ble.” Find the 26-minute film above, and the cameo at the 2:37 mark. Then con­sid­er catch­ing up with Alt­man six years lat­er when he c0-direct­ed The James Dean Sto­ry at the start of his Hol­ly­wood career. Watch the Dean doc­u­men­tary online, or find it housed in our col­lec­tion of 450 Free Movies Online.

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