Chick flicks, action films and a little perspective

It seems that more and more, audience members are abdicating their minds during movies. They sit, they watch, they become offended, and they question how on earth a producer could make such an offensive, scary, it-could-happen-tome film and dare to label it art. Sure, people can disregard films that are too "out there." It's unlikely that "Dumb and Dumber" spawned any road trips or sheep dog vans and doubtful "Air Force One" stopped anyone from flying. Yet, almost assuredly all of us went to the back of our closets searching for Narnia and more than a few dozen children have knocked themselves out in England's notorious train station trying to reach Harry Potter's mystical school. When is it real? When is it not? And is it ever not our responsibility to differentiate?

Chick flicks, while warm and fuzzy, saturate a female mind in romantic acts that may or may not ever happen, at least not to her. The equivalent of female pornography, they capture girls' emotions and, for two hours, leave them breathless over the seemingly endless opportunities for romance in life. Later, they realize that these wonderful moments of proposals at Tiffany's, dancing on the sidewalk, or having her cab chased down by a madly lovestruck but ever-dashing motorcyclist, will probably never happen. Not only this, but the flowers, notes, dinner invitations and heartfelt moments that men do dispense will cease to be enough. No man can compete with the suitor who delivers single roses in the middle of the night, and he shouldn't be expected to.

Action films rarely force audiences to scream for gun control, unless they edge too closely to the line of reality. While a film like "True Lies" leaves the actors destroying each other, and the better part of a bridge and a dock, few people will actually make the connection that, though doubtful, it could happen. Now place that same movie in a school, with teenage actors. Though perhaps inappropriate and unnecessarily suggestive considering the history, it still falls on the viewer to distinguish between reality and the fictional world of the script.

A few obvious movies escape our pigeon holing mindset. Austin Powers is never typified as the average British gentleman. James Bond never has to issue apologies for his hallmark love 'em and leave 'em style of affection. "The Rock" doesn't cause audiences to view all criminals as masterminds. These movies are quickly categorized as "entertainment" in our minds because they message they have to offer is distinct as being possible, but not necessarily the norm. How then can we fault filmmakers for the remaining films, those that could have happened? Does a feeling of reality on the filmmaker's part equal an absence of discriminatory responsibility by the viewer?

If we listened to movies, we'd assume all women are sentimental, ugly people are mean, and all gay men dance well. Instead, we must see the movie for the artistic presence it is and realize that while the movie represents a view, it is not an independent source from which to form firm, widespread opinions. I have seen gay men who would rather be subjected to torturous hours of viewing the balance beam competition of the Olympics than stand in the light of a disco ball, women who laugh at letters signed "softly enamored," and stunning people who have never known inner beauty. Movies are stories, fiction, and though life often imitates art, each moment of life can be interpreted a thousand times over.

A boy and a girl stood in Frist, debating the merits of "Silence of the Lambs." The girl, enraged with her own convictions and still fuming over the portrayal of schizophrenic people as demonic, skin-stealing cross-dressers, left the boy standing alone as she stomped away. Watching her go, he shook his head, wondering how she missed the point of the movie, "It's not about being intersexed, cross-gendered, or even crazy. Just don't put people in holes."

Ashley Johnson is an English major from Florence, Ala.