Ponderings on Film

by Lee Kepraios

A theoretical bio…..

I tossed out the idea of writing a bio for myself in third person. I’ll add to that by mentioning a few things about how I approach film and film criticism, what I believe the role of a critic to be and some goals (and professed agendas) I have for The Flickering Knight. I believe this will not only tell you more about me than listing things like my hobbies, where I grew up or where I went to school. It’ll tell you about me in way that will inform how you read my work. When you’re reading an opinion, you’ll know why it was a position I held at the time I wrote the piece.

This will be subject to change, as I believe in re-evaluating positions I’ve had on films and on subjects as time passes and I’ve done this on many occasions. I don’t believe in maintaining one view on a film that’s supposed to last me forever, as if the last word is something that “conquers” that work. I don’t believe in having the last (or first) word on a film. Needless to say, in most cases I don’t come out of a film with a  fully formed opinion about it. I fear this is a common impulse people have, based on a need to feel superior to artworks that are challenging and elusive and I advocate strongly for criticism as a practice of asking questions rather than providing answers.

It’s all right not to understand a film once it’s finished. Many people I think feel they should only need to see a film once. They become angry or resentful if a film’s inner workings are not immediately obvious. The need some people have to look up an explanation on the internet the moment it’s over is something I find unfortunate. It’s a better opportunity to receive what a film is offering you by pondering its ambiguities afterward because that experience is likely going to affect you much more deeply and I gravitate towards film writing that nurtures that process. Those less obvious experiences are the films that tend to gain the most in resonance over time.

It's my belief that the role of a critic is as a mediator in an ongoing discussion. Not some expert who hands down conclusive declarations as an ultimate but a person whose job it is to educate and stimulate rather than make or reflect popular tastes. Criticism is a type of journalism, informative and investigative in nature. But in dealing with Art, is not conclusive and ironclad. I believe criticism can even be a form of Art itself and this is where it’s distinguished from reviewing. A reviewer’s job in a way is about assessing market value, whereas criticism should go beyond this. It should last longer. One has to learn from wherever and however one can, and in the interest of informing I don’t assign star ratings or letter grades to a film I’m writing about.

What The Flickering Knight will attempt to do is simply be honest. This is the only viable definition of subjectivity. One has to be honest about one’s subjectivity and once they are, that objectifies it. It’s absurd to think one can be objective as a critic. What I write here will be subjective and sometimes rather personal. The more the reader knows where I’m coming from, the more equipped you are to evaluate my appraisal of a film or a subject. You needn’t agree with me. My job is to equip you to work out another itinerary. A piece of writing is essentially a performance. So the “I” in a given piece is a part of this performance and that’s what you’re judging, even as I talk about the steps I’ve gone through to arrive at that position – which is not to say they should take those same steps but rather to liberate people so they could work out their own agendas in terms of where my agendas end and theirs could begin. The reader can extract for their own use what they choose.

These are not just essays about individual films, but about people, places, themes and concepts. Essays not just about the content of a film, but how to evaluate or watch them. Not just portraits of filmmakers, but observations about why they’re important. There are pieces about the act of moviegoing, what people are experiencing when they go to the movies today. My own reflections about the evolving nature of my relationship to film are explored. Film is above all, a type of pictorial language. The more one learns that language, the richer its offerings become. We can go back to those three somewhat rote questions when we evaluate art: What is the artist trying to do? Are they successful? Does it matter? They’re asked in this order, as if part of a process. But I find that in order of importance, I like to ask them in reverse order. The first question is the most urgent, and I will meander on my way to it, calling upon other artistic disciplines to aid my arguments. My favorite critics are the ones who use film to talk about life, philosophy and politics and use those subjects to talk about film.

Two other points about this site: You will read what people call “spoilers” here. One reason I pay no attention to spoiler-think is that it makes it impossible to have a serious discussion about Art. It’s more than a matter of not saying who the movie’s killer is. In privileging only the most visible elements of the plot, the mentality of spoilers ignores so much else of what makes a film what it is and what can be discussed about it. It limits the potential for enlightenment. Worrying that someone will blurt out something that will spoil a whole movie is not a fit mental activity for a grown up. I cannot get behind the idea that avoiding knowing about something constitutes a kind of innocence to preserved. If that’s the way you feel about Art, you may as well not bother seeing the film at all and hold onto that innocence forever.

Lastly, this is not a site for fandom. Even in the earliest pieces I’ve posted for this site, I’ve tried to avoid speaking about films from the standpoint of a fan. Even if I’m an admirer of the subject I’m writing about, there will always be some purpose for the piece beyond my expressing that I love it, as this would fall short of my purpose. I fear a lot of the amateur film critics I read (and several of the professionals) don’t know the difference between criticism and fandom – most noticeable in their apparent reluctance to deal honestly with the more troubling aspects of the things they defend. Fandom is powered by the commercialism of the Industry, which stokes fanboy dollars with sponsored podcasts and fawning interviews. Fan culture in the 21st century is toxic and fickle. Its effect on the decisions made by media outlets, publicity firms and studios has been disastrous. Fandom has become a weaponizable facet of the market and in so doing, it’s something of an enemy of art, debate and free thought.

These ideas are part of the view I have about film – like all Art forms – that sees it not as an escape from life, but as a means for learning how to live life better. I suggest reading the introductory piece on this site titled, “Structure and Cosmetics.” Hopefully, it will give you an indication of whether The Flickering Knight is something you’d like to read. If so, there are many, many interesting ideas waiting patiently here for you to discover along with me, so many lessons the Art of Light has to teach us.

Lee Kepraios - The Flickering Knight