The ‘low art’
In a few weeks, the American film industry will hold its most prestigious ceremony, the Academy Awards. Critically acclaimed films such as Birdman, Boyhood and American Sniper are all vying for the coveted Best Picture award.
All are great films well deserving of their nominations, but I can’t help wonder, why these movies? If the Oscars are supposed to be a celebration of the year in film, wouldn’t you expect the nominees to represent the most popular films of 2014?
Out of curiosity, I Googled the highest-grossing films of 2014 and found the top five movies of the year, in decreasing order, were Guardians of the Galaxy, The Hunger Games: Mockingjay — Part 1, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, The Lego Movie and Transformers: Age of Extinction. Films like Boyhood and Birdman don’t even break the top 100.
Again, I’m not questioning the validity of these nominations. I’ve seen most of the films on the list of nominations, and I find the vast majority, especially Boyhood, deserving. And just because a film is popular, that doesn’t mean it is deserving of any kind of distinction (I’m talking about you, Transformers: Age of Extinction).
However, isn’t it just a little odd that the films most beloved by audiences seem to not even exist in the eyes of the Academy? Obviously, I can’t speak to the Academy’s rationale, but when I talk to various connoisseurs of the fine arts, of which there are many in College Park, I can start to maybe put my finger on the reason for this underrepresentation.
My favorite film this year was one of those top-five megahits, Captain America: Winter Soldier. It was an unrelenting action film placing my favorite superhero into the plot of a Jason Bourne-esque spy thriller. I loved it.
Unfortunately, many people I’ve talked to about the film call its artistic value into question. They accuse it of being a cavalcade of explosions and cliches, another perfunctory superhero flick made to capitalize on the public’s current obsession. They ultimately condemn it to the status of “low art,” something that exists solely to appeal to people’s desire for the visceral and uncomplicated. But what’s so bad about the visceral and uncomplicated? What’s so bad about so-called “low art?”
Art, for me, has always been about feelings. When I enter a movie theater, I’m not hoping to watch some deeply edifying piece that will teach me something about myself or the world. I’m certainly not opposed to watching something like that, but above all else, I want my movie and my art to make me feel. When I watched Boyhood, Richard Linklater’s spot-on depiction of what it’s like to grow up as part of the “millennial generation,” it made me feel both nostalgic and deeply introspective. These are powerful feelings that had me leaving the theater satisfied, knowing I had experienced something truly wonderful.
Controversially, I had the same sense of satisfaction when I left the theater after Captain America — just for different reasons. There is merit in the complex and thoughtful, but as wonderful as films like Boyhood are, they can never hope to deliver the same kind of electrifying excitement the much-maligned summer blockbuster can.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that “visceral and uncomplicated” is not necessarily a bad thing. Just because a film or novel only seeks to thrill its audience does not mean it should be condemned for its frivolity. Provided it delivers those thrills in novel and commendable ways, I think such art should be celebrated. So let’s retire the term “low art,” and “high art” as well. Instead, let’s just call art “art.”
Tristan Madden is a freshman journalism major. He can be reached at trmadden@terpmail.umd.edu.