Greasy Fingerprints on a Glass Case

Esmira had just written a paper on science fiction and 2001: A Space Odyssey for an English class this past semester and being in the presence of cameras makes my dopamine levels spike like Old Faithful, so we visited LACMA the other day to see the Kubrick retrospective. 

The whole way through, I was going through an internal battle between thinking of Kubrick as enigmatic cinema legend and as a guy who made movies. The exhibit lay everything before us - all evidence of the mechanisms behind the conceits - and yet enough of it remains in his mind alone that his process continues to elude us.

And that became, oddly enough, one of the flaws of the exhibit. So much of it remains in Kubrick's mind that I felt, after walking through the exhibit, like I was as much of a stranger to it all as I was when I pushed open the door. The curators relied heavily on script excerpts, correspondance, and props - all fascinating, but leaving me somehow wanting. 

A year or so ago I went to see the Tim Burton retrospective at LACMA. It felt more dynamic in a way, and I came to the conclusion it was because Burton is a very visual thinker in comparison. His imagination spilled out in a more accessible way, and even if his exact thoughts are not necessarily transmitted to the viewer their manifestation still invites personal interpretation.

I guess what this boils down to is that wild sketches hold attention better than script excerpts. I mean, I enjoyed the exhibit very much. It's just interesting to consider how and why things - even museum exhibits - work. 

Greasy Fingerprints on a Glass Case