“Art used to be in charge of us. You used to buy a whole album not even knowing what songs would be on it. Now, we have everything on demand. At your fingertips. In pieces. You think half the people that are posting quotes from Oscar Wilde have ever read one of his plays? Or posting photos of Audrey Hepburn have actually seen the film that it’s from? Not a chance.”
That was an excerpt from a monologue—and it’s just one of several really terrific monologues—from a movie that Adrianne and I watched the other day called Vengeance. I don’t want to give away too much of the movie, but I will say that each of us had some expectations going into it and we couldn’t have been more surprised at how much we ended up enjoying it. In fact, it’s the first movie in quite a while that we’ve talked about multiple times after watching it. The other thing we’ve been talking about is The Last of Us on HBO, but I’ll save that for another time.
Like I said, I don’t want to spoil what happens but what I will say is that if you pull back and look at the movie as a whole, you could see it as a commentary on cognitive dissonance and the state of media, the opioid crisis, or a look at the breakdown of certain stereotypes and social norms in America. But I think one of the through lines that spoke to me most was around vision and voice, because I think as makers or artists or creatives or however you feel comfortable defining yourself—voice is that thing we struggle with more than anything else. You can learn the how. I can teach you how to use a camera or how to paint a wet blend or how to draw a hand. Learning how is the easy part, relatively speaking. The hard part is knowing where to put those mechanics to use and to figure out what to say with all of that practical knowledge that speaks to who you are and how you see the world. It’s not learning the technique, it’s discovering the why. Being a great filmmaker is not about learning how to use cameras and lenses. Not really. It’s more about learning what lens to use in a given scene or, to go back to a recent Blip about John Ford, where to put the horizon in the frame. That’s what communicates narrative and point of view and the voice of the filmmaker. And that can’t be taught, not in my opinion.
I’ve shared this story before, but when I was in college, my technical advisor—who was a brilliant teacher and someone I had immense respect for—called me into his office and said, “Mr. Saddoris, you have two things I can’t teach. You have style and you have flair. Unfortunately, you’re an asshole and nobody wants to work with you.” The point of the exchange is not the asshole part, although he was absolutely right and it’s something I’ve worked very hard ever since to turn around. The important part is what he said he couldn’t teach: style and flair. Another way to say it might be that nobody can teach you how to see the world or that nobody can teach you what you want to say. So if it can’t be taught, how do you learn it? There’s another scene in the movie that I think gets pretty close. The scene is between Ben and Quentin, who I quoted at the top. At one point in the conversation, Ben asks Quentin, “If I came here for advice about my voice, my writing, or my podcast, what would you tell me?” Quentin pauses for just a moment before responding, “I’d probably say that nobody writes anything. All we do is translate. So if you ever get stuck and you don’t know what to say, just listen. Even to the silences. Listen as hard as you can to the world around you and repeat back what you hear. That translation, that’s your voice.”
I don’t know about you but that’s one of the best answers and most sound pieces of advice that I’ve heard in a long time—maybe even ever—about how to find my voice. And it works whether we’re talking about painting, writing, photography, and podcasting, where listening is what I see as my job. When I’m in conversation with someone—and really this applies regardless of whether or not I’m rolling tape, though I’m much better at it when I am—my job is to create space for my guests to feel comfortable enough to fill. Because it’s not my story that I’m interested in, it’s theirs, and it doesn’t matter what it is. I just want to see you and hear you and connect with you, because in the end that’s all that really matters. The stuff, the clicks, the likes, that’s all nonsense. Making space to see and hear and really connect with another person and then making that available to others has the potential to affect everyone else who sees and hears that conversation. And I’ve received hundreds of emails over the years that confirm it.
So go watch Vengeance and let me know if and to what degree it lands with you. As I said, I thought it was terrific, especially the writing, and I think if you’re making things to put out into the world, some of what the characters say might resonate and apply to you too.
I mentioned that we’re watching The Last of Us on HBO, which is really fantastic. Not only is it a brilliant adaptation by Neil Druckmann and Craig Mazin of what is probably my favorite game ever, the casting is terrific. I wasn’t sure about Pedro Pascal as Joel, especially after spending dozens of hours with Troy Baker, but Pedro definitely brings something special to the role. The more I see him, the more I like him—which is great since he seems to be everywhere lately. A few years ago, Pedro even interviewed Willem Dafoe for an episode of Inside the Actors Studio.
Thank you ... needed that. The listening is harder than I thought R