Little Zio's Movies: TRUE OR FALSE

by The Stranger

On6/1/08, in the Sunday Times was a book review of a new bio:
POSTHUMOUS KEATS, the life and work of poet John Keats who died at the age of 25, far from home, poor, in Rome. Family members were either dead, or estranged from him. The woman he loved was convinced they had no future together. He had no reputation, or success. What must it be like to die at that age, in those circumstances? The review mentions that today Keats “ranks with Shakespeare now, in talent if not in achievement, and the homes where he so suffered in Italy and England have become museums. His grave in Rome is a pilgrimage site, the poems he scrawled and saw decried are everywhere anthologized….and this Mozart of musical language has become the very emblem of romantic gain and loss.”

I was reminded of the same feelings of awe, admiration, and inspiration that I had reading DEAR THEO, Vincent Van Gogh’s book of letters to his brother and sole benefactor, Theo. Van Gogh sold just one painting during his lifetime. He also died destitute, alone, in obscurity. Who is “now a multimillion-dollar franchise on the auction block.”

I was driving down Robertson Blvd. this afternoon. And all of a sudden there was a pack of paparazzi surrounding a woman whose last name is Kardashian. I heard someone say “She’s famous for being famous.” And that “She comes from a wealthy family.” The paparazzi were behaving like she was someone important, and as though what they were doing at that moment was life and death. Paris Hilton, Nichole Richie, Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan have become the new standard bearers. But - of what? The lust for fame? The greed for attention?

Keats and Van Gogh lived for the highest sense of a creative expression that each of them believed existed. They were willing to sacrifice their very lives on behalf of that possibility. They lived and died attempting to attain that pinnacle of achievement. And achieve it they did. But not during each of their lifetimes. The recognition, and acceptance; the success and the fame came to them only after they had gone. And what they left behind - the poems and paintings - thrills, moves and inspires us so today because they labored on behalf of a LOVE that had nothing to do with fame or wanting to be famous. And everything to do with Beauty. With Truth. With what it means to be Human in the fullest, deepest, richest sense of that word.
They left this for us, for all of us. What will someone like a Paris Hilton leave us? Or the Kardashian lady who is simply “famous for being famous?” What they seem to be leaving me with, even though neither one of them has gone anywhere, except perhaps to the nearest mall, is a sense of misdirected, misguided energy.

The great Russian filmmaker, Andrey Tarkovsky writes in his exceptional book Sculpting In Time that: “My function is to make whoever sees my films aware of his need to love and to give his love, and aware that beauty is summoning him.” What has this to do with fame and wanting to be famous.

(A Scene from Tarkovsky's film "Stalker")

My intention in this instance is neither to be, nor appear to be mean-spirited toward Ms. Hilton, nor Ms. Kardashian. And perhaps these words have nothing at all to do with anyone who aspires to celebrity and or fame over and above all else. But they do have to do with something we all are a part of and in the process of evolving together: the human condition. I suppose there exists a need in the world today for a Paris Hilton, a Britney Spears, a lady named Kardashian. But …..

Thank God for a Keats….a Van Gogh….A Tarkovsky. “By their works shall ye know them.” Read the poems …. Look at the paintings …. See just one of the films ….