Pulp Fiction writer Roger Avary explained what is required for someone to be considered a master storyteller and filmmaker.
In a conversation with Film Threat, Avary began by talking about his vision of the world that aligns with Christian teaching, “I believe that human beings are inherently good. And that the vast majority of people in the world are inherently good and want good for other people. It’s just my worldview.”
As for what his worldview is he elaborated later in the discussion, “I think that Christian themes are the natural state of humanity. Those teachings are actually our base state. That I believe babies are born pure and innocent and good. And it’s only good through miseducation become lost to that purity.”
After declaring that he believes people are inherently good he transitioned to how this applies to filmmaking and storytelling, “I believe that when people go to movies they want to see the hero. I’ve long explored the anti-hero in films, and as I’ve grown older and kind of examined how people pattern off of movies that they see. I’ve started to kind of alter the kind of movies that I want to make.”
“Look, revenge and wrath, that is the bread and butter of cinema, and you can be a young filmmaker and make a movie about revenge and it can be salacious and everything and fire endorphins and the serotonin levels jump. And you get called a master for making this,” he said. “But a real master makes a movie about forgiveness. It’s really, really difficult to do.”
“For example, there was a movie that came out, two movies that came out same year. The first one was about a guy, he’s in an alien environment. He’s being attacked by nature and he’s doing everything he can to get back to civilization. And his motivation is revenge. And that movie was The Revenant,” he continued. “Well, there was another movie that very same year that came out about a guy in an alien environment. Nature is trying to kill him and he’s doing everything he can to try and get back to civilization. And his motivation is forgiveness. And that movie is The Martian.”
After noting that The Revenant got a huge Oscars push, he declared that The Martian is a “way better film.”
While Avary uses The Martian as an example, one need look no further than one of the greatest films that was made this century in The Fellowship of the Ring. The film ends with Boromir succumbing to temptation as he attempts to take the One Ring from Frodo. However, he recognizes his own wickedness and leaps into action to defend the Hobbits from the Uruk-hai.
While Boromir eventually succumbs to his wounds, he seeks forgiveness of his sin from Aragorn.
George Lucas did something similar in Return of the Jedi. Luke Skywalker’s devotion to his faith and his unwillingness to denounce it, stirs his father’s soul towards good. He cannot accept the death of his son at the hands of the Emperor and lifts him up and tosses him down the Death Star’s central shaft.
However, like Boromir he is severely wounded. While he doesn’t necessarily seek forgiveness, he does recognize the wickedness of his ways and confesses as much to Luke.
Outside of film, one need look no further than C.S. Lewis’ The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe.
Aslan has a discussion with Edmund that Lewis does not elaborate on. Rather he simply writes, “As soon as they had breakfasted they all went out, and there they saw Aslan and Edmund walking together in the dewy grass, apart from the rest of the court. There is no need to tell you (and no one ever heard) what Aslan was saying, but it was a conversation which Edmund never forgot. As the others drew nearer Aslan turned to meet them, bringing Edmund with him. ‘Here is your brother,’ he said, ‘and—there is no need to talk to him about what is past.’ Edmund shook hands with each of the others and said to each of them in turn, ‘I’m sorry,’ and everyone said, ‘That’s all right.’”
The greatest stories have always been steeped in patriarchy. Which is why it has been attacked with such ferocity in the past decade.
Cut sacrificial purpose, allow destructive individualism. Destroy cultivation of a true integrated group, foster distrust of all others under the name of inclusion.
Whether it be a true family saga of parents passing greatness to their progeny, or the hero’s journey.
The hero’s journey, on the surface, appears to be celebration of the “Individual” yet it is not. It’s never about personal gain nor validation. The lack of a traditional family is filled by a surrogate, generally paternal figure to help guide our hero (OURSELVES) to the path of personal sacrifice for the goods of the family, or the many.
I’ve never met an “individual” that I’d ever care to spend the bare amount of time with, that I’d have to.
I’m mainly looking at you “educated” young women.