Thursday, September 19, 2013

The Search for meaning, and it that OK, Plato?



In a basic and overly simplified sense, Plato didn’t like poetry. Poetry, he believed, was just an imitation of an imitation. Life is just a copy of a more perfect and divine Truth. What Plato wanted was a discussion. His writings, seemingly flying in the face of his aversion to the written word, were always in dialogue format, encouraging the discussion of ideas of truth and Truth. The only way that we could free ourselves from “the cave” that he describes in his allegory is by using our minds to intelligently come to conclusions.
            It may be a good thing that Plato didn’t live to see the invention of moving pictures. If art is in fact just a shadow of a copy of a truth, film is nothing but a picture of that shadow. A film like The Searchers would be a nightmare for Plato. There is so much cultural analysis that needs to be done to make this film as poignant as I believe the filmmakers intended it to be. I imagine Plato tearing his toga and pulling at his beard in frustration at all the layers that are presented.
            Film has always been a compilation of all different forms of art: photography, rhetoric, poetry, music, etc. If Plato took issue with poetry alone, the addition of cinematic codes, emotional music, and setting would have pushed him over the edge. The mere fact that a film made in 1956 was set in the end of the 1800s is an obvious “falsity” that, in Plato’s mind, is doing nothing but taking us further from our end goal of enlightenment.
            This film addresses the idea of racial differences. A quick glance into the US culture of 1956 would quickly show a reader that this was a topic heavy on everyone’s minds. Ethan, fresh off a surrender to the Yankees, shows up at his brother’s house in the Wild West. The western, as a genre, is often a place where misunderstood protagonists can retreat to, there aren’t many rules. After a quick hello, the family soon finds themselves on the wrong side of the Natives living in the area. After killing them, for no apparent reason, they take the youngest captive and raise her as one of their own.
            This is where the story begins. Ethan, Debbie’s only blood family, goes out to search for her along with her 1/8th Comanche “adopted brother.” For years they travel through the Western United States, following leads, turning back, learning tricks, all in the name of family. When they finally do find Debbie, she is a grown woman who has assimilated to the Native culture.  Ethan, disgusted, treats her like he would any other Comanche and attempts to kill her. Martin, the moral compass of the film, stops him and tries to show him that she’s still Debbie, no matter what she’s wearing.
            At the climax of the film, Ethan has a change of heart and saves Debbie instead of killing her. He brings her back to civilization where she is welcomed with open arms. Ethan, however, is not welcomed back. His personal moral code, very different from the other characters and, I dare say, modern viewers, has ostracized him from civilization and he is doomed to wander alone for the rest of eternity.
            What is the significance of all this? Especially when released in 1956? The US was just gearing up for the Civil Rights movement of the 60s and race was becoming a hot topic. It was a discussion that most people would have, no matter how much they wished to avoid it. Conflicting messages are obvious in The Searchers. Martin is part Comanche and, as such, is treated poorly by Ethan. It’s obvious, however, that this behavior is inappropriate. But the natives kill the family and kidnap Debbie with little or no (obvious) provocation. This seems to imply that by nature they are a crueler, less “civilized” race. And again, when they find a buried Comanche, Ethan shoots his eyes out. The others in the group (all white, mind you) are appalled by his cruelty. There seems to be a discord in the text as to what “kind” of racism is allowed.
            Regardless of the moral ambiguity of the film, the idea of such an important topic being “hidden” behind a fictitious story is exactly what Plato was trying to do away with. It would be better, he would argue, if instead of the spectacle that is film getting in the way, we all talk about race. What makes race? Who are you? Are you your race? Why are there races? What does it all mean? Reading through that first layer of the film is taking us away from real answers.
But in all film, meaning is expressed in many different ways. One of the greatest openings and closings in film history, Ethan being silhouetted by the door frame speaks volumes. The camera is inside the house, looking out. It symbolizes that Ethan is an outsider, that he doesn’t belong in this home or community. At the beginning he comes in and, as we can see from the rest of the movie, all hell breaks loose. At the end, we have the same shot from inside a house. But this time Ethan doesn’t enter. He turns around and walks away. This powerful visual is clear to those who look. Plato may argue, however, that it’s absurd not only to use fictional characters to convey real-world problems, but even more so to use movements, images, and camera work to describe the feelings and significance of those fictional characters in the film.
Aristotle, however, would have applauded the filmmakers for attempting to approach the important subject at all. But that is another paper for another time. 

Amy Roskelley
TMA 689
9/19/2013

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