Dish of the Day (A Long Good Friday Edition)

Just some film musings of a more succinct, spontaneous and sometimes seditious nature:

Friday, September 15, 2023

Recently, in our film related chat room (readers are welcome to join here), I got hammered pretty good for criticising Steven Spielberg’s often employed overly sentimental approach to cinematic storytelling, specifically as it relates to the film A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001).

The member commented:

“Talk about preoccupied!! You claim Spielberg is exerting great effort to squeeze every drop of sentiment that nothing else matters! Though I don't agree, and I find nothing wrong in provoking empathic sentiments from a society becoming less & less able to empathize, and far to detached to value sentiment in life! I read all your comments, though they are repetitive and seem to be driven by an ego that wants to reign supreme! You go on & on & on & on with the same critical theme concerning Spielberg! As if you need to persuade the millions who appreciate Spielberg that he isn't anything more than an overly manipulative sentimentalist!

You're like an atheist who can't be self-assured enough to live their own life without a belief in God, or a Supreme Creator that they have to be on some personal crusade to destroy the peace others find in believing in God, by trying relentlessly, and repetitiously, to present their argument against a Supreme Creator!

You can't seem to let others enjoy the accomplishments, the artistic expressions, presented by Steven Spielberg, and to talk about it without you injecting your negative sentiment!”

To which I responded:

A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001)

“My criticisms of A.I. address this film specifically for the reasons stated (even though they are not part of a formal written review). They don't pertain to other films about children (2 are in my Top Ten World Cinema Treasures) or faith (another 2 about priests also occupy the same category). If I go “on and on...” it’s only in response to those who find the popular director’s sentimental approach praiseworthy. This is partly because I feel Spielberg exhibits this same weakness in many of his films: setting up scenes (some with children or through a child’s eyes) for which he can extract an elevated sense of emotion. Many masterful storytellers have developed a less contrived, more observational outlook on life and in particular, depicting revelatory scenes with young people: Tavernier in It All Starts Today (1999), Ray in Pather Panchali (1955), Truffaut in The Wild Child (1970) and The 400 Blows (1959), Babenco with Pixote (1980), Oshima in Boy (1969), Laughton in The Night of the Hunter (1955), De Sica in Shoeshine (1946), Clayton in The Innocents (1961), Clement in Forbidden Games (1952) et al. 2002’s Catch Me If You Can even catches Spielberg in rare form, allowing his audience to discover the inherent emotions brewing under the surface of his teenage protagonist instead of setting him up with scenes we know will then be used to spoon-feed us the desired support he wants us to feel… i.e. the character portrayed in Catch Me If You Can seems natural, more organic by comparison to the one having his strings pulled in A.I.. What I’ve identified as a kind of “artificial” dynamic in the latter film is what I believe a seasoned critic is supposed to point out. On the other hand, if you’re so sure my findings are meritless, I hope you would not be too troubled by them.”

All responses are not only welcomed but encouraged in the comments section below.

Hope to see you Monday, September 18.

A.G.