The mini-DV camera that I’ve used to
produce the Funhouse TV show started malfunctioning several weeks back. The
computer that is my main tool to produce this blog had a hard-drive collapse
two weeks ago. Both items are a few years old and have served me well, as is
apparent when one considers I’ve produced several dozen episodes each year at
and at least one chunky blog entry every week or so.
In this current, debt-driven economy, one
isn’t supposed to repair one’s tech-tools; you’re supposed to “upgrade” to the
latest model, and sink hundreds of bucks into a newer version that will be
outmoded and inoperative in 2-3 years at best.
Although “planned obsolescence” is a
phrase that was popularized in the Fifties (it was coined in the Thirties), it
has only been in the last two decades that it became the sole operating
principle of electronic tech, primarily because of the influence of
money-grubbin’ “visionaries” like iCapitalist Steve Jobs, who hit on the master
stroke of not only making his products entirely incompatible with the
competition, but also making them incompatible with
themselves, in past or future iterations.
This approach to electronics — constant
upgrading, the incompatibility of everything with everything — has made the
tech game (and a game it most surely is) a massive goddamned headache for those
of us who want to buy a product that will last and can be
repaired. To the average consumer, bells and whistles count
for more than quality and durability. The “mad men” of advertising obviously
won.
It was as the above techno-strife hit, and
issues of incompatibility became the focus of my existence, that I
discovered that certain networks on my cable carrier, including top fave Turner
Classic Movies, had begun to windowbox their programming for compatibility with
widescreen TVs. TCM is one of the cable networks, at least on my carrier (TW in
NYC), that has an identical signal on its standard channel and its high-def
alter-ego. In fact, the horrid-looking windowboxing of the channel seems to be
an outgrowth of the clamor by some hardcore fans for a version of TCM in “true
high-def.”
That argument is discussed in detail here, but it doesn’t matter to me at all —
all I know is that the two channels are now identical, you can switch from one
to the other and wouldn’t even know that the channel has been changed. I
have no interest in high-def, since I have a regular
square TV and am deliriously happy that it has worked perfectly well for me for
over 15 years at this point. On a related note, I believe that watching a great movie
on TV is watching TV (albeit exceptionally wonderful TV), while watching a
movie in a theater is cinema (but more on that below).
For those who don't know what windowboxing
is, it's a measure taken to ensure that every single millimeter of a square
film image can be seen. Black bars are placed on both sides as well as the top
and bottom of an image. I first saw a windowboxed film on AMC (remember when
the channel was aptly named American Movie Classics?), the silent version of
The Last of the Mohicans (1920). The film was shot in a
ratio that differs from the square (aka "flat") one (1:33) that fills a standard box-like TV screen.
I do want films to be
shown in their proper ratios in theaters and on TV. I think letterboxing is
absolutely essential for any film that differs greatly from 1:33, as with the
three “widescreen” ratios that are the most common (1:66, 1:85, and 2:35). Fer
chrissakes, we went more than four decades in the U.S. before
any networks would show a letterboxed film at all
(Manhattan was the first, thanks to Woody demanding it; AMC
was the first network to present letterboxed films on a regular basis).
These days, though, one doesn't need to
wait 40 years for technology “updates.” Now updates happen
overnight, and the user is left trying to catch up. Remember the digital TV
debacle? The U.S. government decided that we were going to become a digital
nation and forced poorer folk and seniors to scramble and figure out some way
to cope with a change that didn't need to be made. I wrote about it at the time.
But once it did take place, cable
carriers and TV manufacturers were delighted, and seniors like my dad had to
suddenly subscribe to Time Warner Cable to be able to continue watching their
TV. Other folks bought new TVs since they couldn't deal with the annoying and
unnecessary switchover (those digital conversion boxes are a joke, barely
functioning in many urban areas where "clearance" is an issue).
The single funniest (and most accurate) comment on the digital TV "upgrade" was made on The Armando Iannucci Shows:
The single funniest (and most accurate) comment on the digital TV "upgrade" was made on The Armando Iannucci Shows:
The TCM conversion to windowboxing isn't
equal to the rupture-ous loss of over-the-air signals — in this case,
possessors of regular TVs are still “allowed” to continue to watch what they
love without a converter, but the image will look a whole lot odder. Those like
myself, who have no desire to upgrade to a widescreen TV while my boxy stalwart
still works, are being encouraged by the switchover to windowboxed transmission
to join the cool kids and buy one’a those sleek rectangular TV sets. Join us in
pretending your house is a movie theater! (Two words: it ain’t.)
So the fate of the viewer who cannot
resize his/her screen is to watch the movies on TCM as if they were broadcast
(to borrow an Internet poster's phrase) “through a postal slot.” Now every
credit can be read on every film, since not a SINGLE millimeter of the
cinematic space is ever lost. But those of us with square TVs wind up seeing a
box within a box — so that means when and if Hellazapoppin'
plays, the movie-watching scene that spawned MST 3K would allow
us to see a box within a box within a box....
****
The “perfection” of the television image
brings up another peeve, one that doesn't have to do with planned obsolescence,
but is all about the acquisition of the latest viewing tools (from big-ass
widescreens to tiny video-file players) and the notion certain cinephiles have
that watching movies on TV makes one a self-contained, hardcore movie buff.
These folks have indeed made movie-watching a regular part of their life — but
they rarely if ever set a foot inside a movie theater.
The folks who live in an area that has no
arthouse cinemas, no rep houses, and no university screening rooms are
not who I'm talking about here. I am stunned more by the
lazyfolk who reside in major urban areas that are filled with “alternative” screens
and only watch their cinematic fare on some form of a TV screen (be it a giant
TV, a laptop, or a variant of Dick Tracy's goddamned wristphone). It's a
fascinatingly limited path, akin to being a voracious music-lover who never,
ever attends live concerts.
As for the many corollaries to this
ridiculous “the-technology-of-the-moment-is-best” mindset, I took the time to
read the wildly indulgent “conversation” between the two critics in the
New York Times this past Sunday (on a related note, is there
really that great a need to import the reviews of the one who lives on the West
Coast — or did she ever deign to move and actually reside in our cramped little
city?). The two critics pondered the difference between films being made and
projected digitally, and the stalwart filmmakers and movie houses that still
use film.
I fall on the side of the true-film
advocates (thus, I guess my spokesperson is the West Coast NYT critic?). To
extend the musical metaphor above, seeing digital projection in a movie house
(which has, of course, become the norm because it's cheaper and far closer to “perfect,” right?) is akin to attending those live concerts where people gather
to watch freshly restored digital and holographic images of icons like Elvis
and Tupac. The activity has the semblance of art, but it's closer to
experiencing the stuff at home — and that, in most folks minds, is the only
“perfect” way to receive the information.
This trendy, “perfection”-seeking mindset
conforms to the laughable dictum that “all information is on the Internet,
somewhere.” It's an oddly hermetic concept and offers a reliance on, and a
wildly misguided confidence in, technology that I don't think I'll ever have.
Technology drove the arts throughout the 20th century, but these days it's overwhelmed it, because folks who only desire a limited range of information in the first place believe that “everything” is on the Internet and “everything” is available on DVD or as a download or... pick your platform (it will change in the next several months). My friend Brian Camp wrote about the digital/film debate — with a side-trip into the notion that "everything" from the last two decades is on the Net — in this blog entry.
Technology drove the arts throughout the 20th century, but these days it's overwhelmed it, because folks who only desire a limited range of information in the first place believe that “everything” is on the Internet and “everything” is available on DVD or as a download or... pick your platform (it will change in the next several months). My friend Brian Camp wrote about the digital/film debate — with a side-trip into the notion that "everything" from the last two decades is on the Net — in this blog entry.
The incompatibility factor between old
and new technologies is most pronounced in relation to computers and Internet
access. Consider, for instance, the average interactive website. Not video
sites like YouTube or Daily Motion, that seem to function strictly by their own
rules, but sites that are supposed to truly cater to the user, like a bank site
or, let’s say, BLOGGER, for instance.
These sites now update their interfaces
and announce to the user “We detect that you're viewing this site with an older
browser. For best results, upgrade to these browsers....” The translation is
obvious: we’re all a part of the great consumer culture that doesn’t request
but demands that you buy the latest model, or you won’t be
able to use a website that formerly was VERY elementary in its approach. Pay a bill, write a blog — don't you think you need a new computer?
Back in April of of this year Blogger
updated its interface, so it would be more attuned to its parent and sister
sites (Google, YouTube, etc, etc). No matter that Blogspot was without a doubt
one of the easiest sites to use before April of this year — now the Forces That
Be at the site would prefer that I have a newer computer. Thus, countless
changes have taken place, and if the user has any questions, well, he/she can
just leave a message on a forum board and hope that some friendly person has an answer.
I have written into the Blogger forum and have
received very polite answers on occasion. They all seem to require inserting
something in the raw HTML code, an aspect of this blog that I NEVER needed to
tinker with before the accursed upgrade that took place in April of this year.
What I take this to mean is that Google/Blogger would prefer that those of us with computers older than a year or two, computers equipped with the dread “older browsers” (used because the newer browsers won’t WORK with the computers we’ve got), simply go away and stop using their sites, since only those with the latest, coolest consumer products need apply.
What I take this to mean is that Google/Blogger would prefer that those of us with computers older than a year or two, computers equipped with the dread “older browsers” (used because the newer browsers won’t WORK with the computers we’ve got), simply go away and stop using their sites, since only those with the latest, coolest consumer products need apply.
****
But back to the windowbox dilemma
(searching for images for this piece produced the cover of Toledo
Window Box, George Carlin's LP from a million years ago — on vinyl,
the format that became trendy again when the suckers who flocked to CDs finally
realized digital sound is “pure” and perfect, but a lot less rich). As my final
argument that TCM's windowboxing is an unnecessary, distracting extravagance
solely meant for those with cine-OCD and others posing as purists, I will
merely point to the Criterion Collection.
Criterion has been making available the
most pristine copies of films in the home-entertainment sphere since the days
of the laser disc (back when “film grain” was still part of the restoration process
— I miss it dearly, but that's a discussion for another time...). The folks at
that company dote on the ways in which to best present classic films on a TV
screen. They haven't seen fit windowbox films made in the 1:33 ratio-purists
because, again, it is not necessary (and looks godawful on a
regular square TV).
Last week, TCM aired Godard's masterwork
Vivre Sa Vie (aka “My Life to Life”) with windowboxing. The
print that was shown looked identical to the Criterion copy, but on TCM it was reduced
to a square within a square. The result wasn't a better presentation of the
film — it was a pointless and irritating variation on what is on the Criterion
disc.
So to those individuals lacking funds who
remember a time when it was not uncommon to have a portable radio for five
years, a wristwatch for ten, a TV set for a decade or two, and a stereo system
for nigh unto a childhood or adolescence, I salute you. Quality is not a major
issue in debt-ridden America — having the latest, coolest device is.
And if you feel tired after a long day’s
work, please do go and experience film in a local arthouse or rep theater, where classic films
are presented as they should be. OR you can just turn on the TV and watch a classic picture.
Through a postal slot.
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