MMatewanReviewed by James Howey, Pepperdine University Perhaps no other aspect of American social thought and culture is as widely acknowledged and deeply felt as that of individualism. The moral primacy of the individual over the group is often presented as the cornerstone of democratic society. Personal liberty, individual initiative, and the private search for happiness are values and ideas deeply rooted in the fabric of American society; if they do not accurately reflect the realities of life in this country, they do represent its ideal description. Individualism is truly the cornerstone of American society. >From Plymouth Rock, to the spread west, to our rise to superpower status, individualism has been the driving ideal. The force of this ideal has made itself felt in American art as well, reflected most evidently in this century in film. Film comedies and dramas alike typically feature one or two characters encountering and overcoming a crisis. But in the film Matewan, writer and director John Sayles attempts to tell bigger stories. Sayles ignores traditional ideas of characterization and the constraints of Hollywood to tell stories of people acting collectively. The following is a look at Sayles' attempt to expand the film genre using an approach dictated by his overall purpose in film making. Each form of artistic expression has various genre. Literature, for example, has the short story (typically focusing on one character) and the novel (capable of developing several characters). Traditionally, American film makers have acquiesced to the constraints of their genre and developed one or two characters, painting the background characters using the broad brush strokes of Hollywood stock characters (e.g., the nerd, the clever private detective, etc.). Sayles writes, "American movies present an endless series of lean strangers riding into town from who knows where. The celebration of the individual is the backbone of our mythologies, the promise inherent in most of our laws and attitudes. This may be why dramas of collective life have always had a stronger hold on European and Asian audiences than on Americans. The lone man against the mob, whether he's mounted on a horse or on a motorcycle, is a typical American movie protagonist." Though clearly unrealistic, this man against the mob motif provides Americans with a sort of vicarious dominance. People identify themselves with these protagonists saying, "He was no one, and look what he did; maybe I can do it too." Many excellent films have been made following this formula, but what of stories that do not fit to one character's viewpoint? Are they not to be told, or are they to be simplified to the point where the story is lost to one character's viewpoint? Simply, no. The limitations of genre are self- imposed, based on the American value of individualism and on evaluative criteria which focus on depth of character. Ignoring these "limitations," John Sayles seeks to move beyond genre, taking a wholly different tack. Concerning the film, Matewan, Sayles writes, "One thing I've tried to do in all (my) movies is have the world populated by more than one or two people, to present a community. The norm in star-vehicle screen writing is to have a couple of leads and the rest of the characters there only to provide background and plot advancement . . . I'm more interested in how individual or political acts affect communities of people--parents, friends, children, co-workers." This interest in community is evident in Matewan; we are shown the viewpoint (s) of a pacifist union leader, the townspeople, the coal miners, the Italian immigrant workers, the company bosses, the black workers, and others. Our glimpses of these characters come through their actions, much as do our glimpses of those we encounter in our daily lives. While no characters are treated in depth, the viewer is drawn into the characters and provides for himself depth of characterization as he attempts to understand each individual in the film. Sayles draws us in by creating compelling characters, characters purposely formed in contrast to the readily quantifiable Hollywood stock character. A look at Sayles' overall purpose shows his outward rejection of the traditional limits of genre in the areas of characterization and theme. Sayles states, "I always hope people will leave the theater thinking of other people, not other movies they've seen. I want them to think about people they've never met before, and I want them to try to understand them." Sayles' commitment to telling the big story is thus based on characterization; he uses complex characterization to convey complex themes. Sayles writes, "It's always important who does what and why, and the manner of storytelling is important only in its effectiveness in bringing the audience to its basic questions." The characters then, serve as a point from which the audience is to ask "why?" and to be drawn into the film's questions. Films that pose questions are clearly what Sayles wants. Unlike the closure typical in most films, Sayles "leaves it up to the moviegoer to assign blame and credit . . . the audience won't have the satisfaction at the film's end, of knowing exactly why everything worked the way it did." Sayles seeks to relate "cyclical life, a sense of continuity, good and bad . . . the opposite of the favored Hollywood ending of ultimate triumph." He delves into themes of immense scope (themes that would be unmanageable for some) and will not condescend to trite resolution. Discussing Matewan's complex themes, Sayles says, "I have no answers about violence or pacifism or unions." There is thus an honesty and realism not only in Sayles' characterization, but also in his problematic themes. The vast majority of the criticisms are levelled against the complexity of characterization. Such criticisms miss the point, which is that there was more than one person involved in these events. The Matewan Massacre resulted from the interactions of many people and forces; the stories simply cannot be told from one viewpoint. That most critics missed the point shows the influence of traditional evaluative criteria. Unaccustomed to the collective viewpoint and to enigmatic themes, critics understandably fall into the trap of judging the films on standards that Sayles consciously avoided. If judged on the basis of conventional criteria Sayles' films are a hodgepodge of characters and themes. But to judge them in this way would be the equivalent of an early twentieth century art critic saying that Picasso's works lack realism. Films, like any art form, can (and should) stretch their genre and remain valuable providing that the viewers' evaluative criteria are simultaneously stretched. One undeniable value of this film is that it depicts the collective. People are complex; put people in a group and the complexity is increased exponentially. Sayles' emphasis on the collective is a study in group dynamics; it is also an attempt at realism. People simply do not act in a vacuum, unrestrained and unaffected by other people and social forces; it is therefor unrealistic to portray them as doing so. Further, it is rare that situations are as black-and-white as we would like them to be; it is therefore unrealistic to describe them as being so. To tell the truth then, Sayles had no choice but to fly in the face of American film. Sayles' primary virtue as a film maker is that he does not really care what anyone wants from his films. He has stories to tell, and he fiercely defends his right to tell them. Richard Schickel in his Time review of Eight Men Out writes, "The aspiration to dramatize a historical incident in all its complexity is not an unworthy one--and rare enough in movies. Whatever failures result from this ambition, there is still something likeable as well as commendable about the movie." Sayles is definitely ambitious in his storytelling, and he understands that film genre, like that of any form of expression, must expand and grow and stretch itself. Film makers must not cater to the desire of Hollywood or those of the masses. Rather, they must be true to their art. As soon as artists compromise, they cease to create; they become mere technicians, attempting to skillfully fulfill the demands of formulae. These films should be praised rather than criticized for their attempt to go beyond genre. There is value in telling the big story--the story of the collective. What is clear is that our evaluative criteria must change to appreciate their merit. The individualism inherent in our society must be seen not only as a force which helps us to achieve, but also as an influence upon our viewpoint.
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