I snuck out of work early Friday to do something decadent: catch a matinee showing of District 9 at the Fenway. I haven't been to a movie by myself in ages, it seems. Like dining out,it's something I did often enough in my student days, but not muchsince. So I thought it was pretty decadent when the idea came to me, but when I got there the theater was packed, and it just felt like it more or less always does once I settled in. 

The movie was sadly similar.  While promising something different at the outset, District 9 turned out to be pretty run-of-the-mill.  Enjoyable, even thought-provoking at times, it was stylistically seriously flawed. The strengths of the narrative have to do with flouting sci-fi conventions to tell a story that feels, at first, more gritty and real.  The stylistic flaws have to do with flouting convention as well.  But certain film-making conventions just make sense.  Especially when they provide the syntax that undergirds the language of film.

Just as native speakers are innately attuned to the subtleties of syntax and grammar in their own language, audiences understand the complex visual language of film even when they may not understand why or how they do.  The evolution of the language of cinema has allowed for more and more interesting layers of meaning in film, and we are at a point today where we have virtually no technical limitations.  But in some ways this makes film-making (and sometimes film-watching) harder.

In the early days of cinema in addition to technical and mechanical hindrances there were conceptual hurdles.  Early films were more like stage plays, not simply because cameras were expensive and bulky, but because filmmakers had no idea how to convey perspective and narrative continuity in this new medium.  Thus, early film theory is full of spirited debates about "link-shots" and "long-shots" — how to convey continuity in time and space on film.  When continuity had been sufficiently addressed, "focalization" — how to convey perspective — took center stage.  Once both filmmakers and their audiences had learned this language, the real fun began. 

But, as visually stunning as films have become, we may have arrived at a moment of cinematic decadence — with, not too few, but too many devices at our disposal to tell a coherent tale.  By the end of District 9 you understand why the filmmakers were forced to switch from the documentary style to a mishmash of documentary and omniscient perspective that doesn't quite cohere, but it still feels like cheating.  The fact that director Neill Blomkamp couldn't find a cleverer and more elegant way to move the plot forward is disappointing aesthetically, but it also gives you permission to enjoy the film on another level.  Once you stop taking it seriously it's a pretty exhilarating ride.

After the movie I dropped into my garden, On the way I passed by my beloved old restaurant row on Peterborough Street, decimated by a fire last winter.  Last month I noticed they had finally shuttered the shopfronts, and now someone has come along to pay tribute to the once and future quirky collection of international mom-and-pops that made the row so well-loved...

Still an empty shell — no signs of reconstruction — but I'm glad someone's showing the old row some love...