It’s Awards Season, that time of year when Film Twitter goes crazy. Trying to predict the possible winners for certain awards given by critics, guilds, international journalists, and the movie industry in general. Even we form part of this by doing Top 10s and personal awards to celebrate the films we loved during the year.
In general, it’s all good, we’re celebrating the best in film even when those who do so don’t necessarily reward the best. As a community we have grown accustomed to this. And that’s why we do our best to champion our favorite films, to let everyone know that if they missed it in theaters, they should rent it or buy it somewhere. So they can experience the same emotions we did while watching.
Not everything is beautiful and joyful in Film Twitter though. Yes, there are people trying to sell their favorite films, but there are also people who are trying to dissolve, erase, and destroy films and their reputations because, well, they didn’t like them. I’m against this, but there’s a right to do it. In the end, film is a form of art and like every work of art, there’s a level of subjectivity at the time of evaluating or appreciating a film.
The problem is that Film Twitter can become pretty toxic when they talk about movies they didn’t like or hate, to the point of intentionally offending people. Or, like I have witnessed recently, unintentionally. The last few weeks have been a storm of critical appraising and dismissal for the films that are possibly front-runners for the acclaimed Academy Awards. From The Florida Project to Lady Bird to Get Out, Three Billboards, and I, Tonya. I want to talk specifically about these last two mentioned.
A few days ago, while I was surfing my Twitter feed, I encountered a series of tweets that left me shocked and confused. One tweet said something about a person who was alarmed at how many people he considers smart loved a certain film. The other tweet talked about a guy who has a lot of very smart people that he respects very much who liked a certain film. Both tweets were referring to the film I, Tonya.
The person on the first tweet wrote a whole thread of his dislike of the film (he found it gross and hated it) and compared it to Three Billboards. He was questioning how people who hated the latter could love the former. All that is fair; you don’t have to like a film, especially these two which are very controversial in how they manage the use of violence to make people laugh, among other things. What I have trouble with is what those two tweets indirectly imply. One thing is to criticize a film, provide arguments to why you liked or (in this case) disliked them, and other totally different is to insinuate things of the other people who viewed, appreciated, evaluated the film different than you.
Even though I don’t personally know these two people, and they don’t know me, I felt attacked. Both films in question, although I didn’t love them, I did quite like them and thought they were pretty well executed. Especially I, Tonya. When I read both tweets (one day apart from each other) I thought: “Well, does that means I’m stopped being smart because I liked it?”.
Maybe I misunderstood, yet I couldn’t stop pondering on the insinuation of those tweets. Does having a point of view different to these people mean I might be considered not smart enough? That’s an awful feeling, especially when you think you understood what you watched in both films.
I’m a sucker for dark comedies. It’s a genre I’ve loved ever since I began watching films extensively back in 2012. I’m new to this, so everyday I learn more on how to appreciate film as an art form and to know the immense variety of artistic works it has to offer. When I watch a film, I always go in with the best of intentions. I never go thinking a film will be bad until I know it is.
Dark comedies frequently tend to have this problem with their audience. Since I’ve been in this, most dark comedies and satire films released have been very divisive. That’s part of the essence of this genre that, definitely, is not made for everyone. Both Three Billboards and I, Tonya are dark comedies, and because of that tiny detail, both films shouldn’t be taken that seriously. What I love about dark comedies is that they challenge you to discern what should be taken as literally serious and what should not be taken serious at all. It makes you question: “was this okay? Why I laughed at that? Is this wrong?”.
And in that process of analysis you might discover what the director wants you to take, his/her intention or message. Both films in mention use violence as a resource for laughs, at the same time it questions you if violence is okay. Obviously, it isn’t, but it’s there to remind you it isn’t. It’s even exaggerated so you can grasp the idea that violence shouldn’t be the way to go in life. It’s also used as a motif to represent how monstrous some of the characters are and to explain why a character might have turned the way they did.
For the first case, this can be seen with officer Dixon (Sam Rockwell) in Three Billboards when he throws Red (Caleb Landry Jones) out of a second-floor window. Then goes down the stairs onto the street to keep punching him. For the second case we can see this with Tonya Harding (Margot Robbie) in I, Tonya when both her mother (Allison Janney) and her husband (Sebastian Stan) use her as a punching bag for their own frustrations. Using as an excuse that it will toughen her. Both instances remind you violence is bad. It’s not put there to glorify it, the director lets you interpret it.
There have also been complaints about both films because one major character is redeemed, or that one film asks us, the viewers, to forgive someone. I, Tonya shows us another point of view in the well-known Tonya Harding story. It shows us the difficult childhood she had, the failed marriage, the issues by those who decide who represents the USA at competitions. The director wants us to feel sorry for her. He even gives us a courtroom scene where we learn that Tonya will lose the only thing she really ever loved: ice skating. Yet, does she deserve our forgiveness? That’s for the audience to decide. The director wants you to choose his point of view, but you can decide to go the other way.
Three Billboards’ case is more complicated. Dixon, who we watch during the entire first two thirds as a bit of a monster. He wins a redemption arc, and changes his character (or so we think) completely to become a better person. The director gave him, of all characters, a redemption, a chance to be better. Will that erase his past? No, but some people are interpreting that redemption as “forget his past”, and this has been the core of lots of discussion and think pieces on Film Twitter.
The director here, again, asks us to choose a side, to believe if Dixon deserved redemption or not or if his change is believable. Should I agree with him? For me, I believed in Dixon’s change in Three Billboards. Did he deserve redemption? Honestly? No, but I believe that every person deserves a second opportunity no matter how evil they were before. Call me naive, young, but I believe in that. Maybe that’s why I didn’t have so much trouble with it happening.
Another detail that made me believe his change is that it happens after a near-death experience. People argue it was Chief Willoughby’s (Woody Harrelson) letter that changed him, but actually it was the combination of the letter, the near-death experience, and the act of kindness and compassion by Red in the hospital (when he gives Dixon a straw for his orange juice even when he knows he’s the responsible for his injuries). That sold me his change.
In the case of I, Tonya, I understood the reasons for her behavior, but I simply couldn’t excuse that she decided to do what she did (or wanted to do) to Nancy Kerrigan. I believe that she learned her lesson eventually. I will never forget what she did though. The same with Dixon because the past can’t be erased. None of the films state that you should forget their past, you decide if you want to. I don’t fully appreciate any of the two directors’ intentions, but that doesn’t change the fact that both movies are good and that I liked most things about them.
Not agreeing with the director’s intention doesn’t mean the movie is gross or bad, it means simply that you don’t agree. It doesn’t make you less smart or smarter. Also, not liking some elements, like the use of violence, shouldn’t condemn a film. You can discern from it and the other elements you liked and disliked, put them on a balance and give an appropriate general evaluation of the film, being objective while not forgetting that little hint of subjectivity that every work of art needs.
I agree, though, that these directors need to be more careful and judgmental when deciding how and how frequent to use violence. There’s very fine line to exaggeration and glorification, and most people took the latter as interpretation. I thought the former and that’s why I felt at ease. It doesn’t make me less smart suddenly, I just see it differently, and that’s okay. With this I’m trying to urge people to be more cautious on how they express their feelings towards a film.
Don’t make people feel less because they liked or disliked something you didn’t. I’m sharing my interpretations of both films main issues because I want you to know that thinking differently to your point of view doesn’t make me less or more than you. If you think you‘re smarter or better than someone because you disliked or liked something and they think otherwise, then you’re potentially being a pretentious prick. Don’t do that. Share feelings, opinions, point of views, complaints, but don’t act as if you understood it better. I also encourage people to be open to other people’s interpretation of a film. Don’t close your mind to whatever got into it first.
The Florida Project is a film that everyone has love on Film Twitter. When I watched it, I didn’t love it as much because I had an issue with its ending; it almost ruined the film for me. Nevertheless, since the film was so great before that moment, I gave it a good grade and put it in my list of films I liked or “found okay”. One day I read a tweet of someone who watched the film and explained his interpretation of the ending. While I read that, I felt enlightened, because his take of the film made sense to me and it made me understand why that was the ending. It made me appreciate more the movie and now it’s higher in my ranking of best films of 2017. Yet, this wouldn’t have happened if I had left my mind closed to other people’s point of views, ideas, and opinions.
Be open to anyone’s interpretation, not only your peers and pals, or experts, anyone. Even the “dumbest” of takes has a hint of truth in it. Remember, not everyone that differs from you is your enemy. Don’t be absolute about anything either, especially absolutely negative because everything has a slight of goodness in it. We all love movies, why are we fighting then?