"The Battleship Potemkin" and What a Movie Owes Us

I've discovered that, at times, moviegoers have this weird pre-existing assumption that movies owe them something. As if we sign some unstated contract with a movie the moment we plop ourselves down in front of screen to watch it. When a movie does something we don't necessary like but fits in with what a film has been attempting, we may react against it -- frequently strongly. Now this isn't to suggest I don't think movies owe us something; I think, if anything, they owe us a complete, interesting story and one that hopefully satisfies what it set out to do. But beyond that movies don't owe you anything.

Moviegoers also sometimes mistake not liking a movie for a movie not being good. But those are two entirely separate things. We have different tastes and different types of movies will appeal to different people. But just because you're not a fan of romance or action or horror does not mean that those sorts of films are always bad. Something that critic Roger Ebert helped convince people of was that each movie ought to be judged on its own terms. Not every movie can be the next Citizen Kane. A daffy little comedy may not be the arthouse drama of the year but if it wasn't trying to be in the first place than what does it matter.

This leads me into a brief discussion of Battleship Potemkin, Sergei Eisenstein's influential Soviet silent film. Now I didn't really enjoy Potemkin; it's naive and propaghandistic. But there's no denying it is excellent movie. The famous Odessa Step Scene (memorably paid tribute to in Brian De Palma's The Untouchables) is still an exquisitely crafted scene, heavy with tension, chaos and human drama. The film manages to create compelling conflicts fraught with tension and televised through some striking imagery (the infamous, disgusting maggots scene or the plate smashing scene). Eisenstein was able to make some innovative stylistic and storytelling choices within a restricted Soviet studio system.

There's a gap between our own expectations and the intentions of the film. Eisenstein gets across his patriotic message of revolution and civic pride and he does it with a lot of flare (through stylistic choices fed into through theoretical beliefs in line with his political ones). Now is it the film I pop in on a lazy Saturday afternoon? No. We watch Battleship Potemkin more for its influence and historical significance than for its lasting entertainment value. But that doesn't (or shouldn't at least) detract from our ability to appreciate it.

Some movies will be those you simply appreciate. They aren't trying to make you feel good. They're trying to make you think or examine an important, serious topic or they're trying to attempt something with film that's more than distract you for two hours or so.

Because of their mass appeal though we often fault films that aren't merely crowd pleasers or comfort food. We wouldn't call into question a novel attempting to tell some high minded or rigorous narrative.

So I put it before you to call into question your assumptions whenever you start to doubt a film; it may be for misplaced reasons.