"We seldom get into trouble when we speak softly. It is only when we raise our voices that the sparks fly and tiny molehills become great mountains of contention."
I
remember one time in high school when a new girl transferred in the
middle of the year. Everyone was talking about her, in part because
she was new, and in part because she was really, really attractive.
She ended up in one of my art classes, so I was interested to get to
know her, and the fact that she was beautiful only heightened my
interest. Tragically, it turned out that she was born without a
personality. As nice as she was to look at, she had nothing
interesting to say.
You
can still be friends with somebody like that, but you’re
probably not going to date them, and you certainly aren’t going
to marry them. Regardless of how physically attractive they may be,
they must also engage you mentally and emotionally and spiritually.
Your conversations have to mean something if you’re going to
build a meaningful relationship together.
Movies
kind of remind me of discovering girls in school. There are lots of
them to choose from, and they come in many different shapes and sizes
and descriptions. There are beautiful movies and funny movies and
intellectual movies. There are movies you flirt with and movies that
make you laugh. There are movies you feel comfortable with and movies
you fall in love with.
Director
Ang Lee brought Yann Martel’s novel, Life
of Pi,
to the big screen. It is a gorgeous, visual cacophony of imagery and
illusion that strives to unveil some deep and mystic revelation about
life and truth. The truth is, however, that the great secret of this
story is that the emperor has no clothes. Yes, it is very pretty. It
has lots of shiny bits and pieces that tempt us into thinking that
there’s something substantial there, but there isn’t.
From
a technical standpoint, it is a masterpiece of artistry realized
through technology, and I give them full marks for presentation. But
I want more than just pretty; I want a story that is full of truth,
with characters I can care about, with ideas that challenge me. But
there is no deeper truth than this: Life
of Pi
is a long movie about a boy on a boat with a tiger, and they try to
survive without eating each other.
Taken
in pieces, there are moments of excitement and interest, but they
ultimately amount to dross. At the end of The
Wizard of Oz,
the curtain is pulled back to reveal the real great and powerful
wizard, who, by his own admission, was not really a bad man, just a
bad wizard. At the end of Life
of Pi
when the curtain is pulled back, there’s nothing there at all.
There
are worse things that could happen in high school than eating lunch
with a very pretty girl who is also a little dumb. But high school
was a long time ago, and now I’d rather spend my time with
people
- and movies -
that I care about more than for just the way they look. Life
of Pi
certainly does look good, but ultimately says nothing I’m
interested in talking about.
Andy Lindsay can frequently be overheard engaged in conversations that consist entirely of repeating lines of dialogue from movies, a genetic disorder he has passed on to his four children and one which his wife tolerates but rarely understands. When Andy's not watching a movie he's probably talking about a movie or thinking about a movie.
Or, because his family likes to eat on a somewhat regular basis, he just might be working on producing a TV commercial or a documentary or a corporate video or a short film. His production company is Barking Shark Creative, and you can check out his work here www.barkingshark.com.
Andy grew up in Frederick, Maryland, but migrated south to North Carolina where he met his wife, Deborah, who wasn't his wife then but later agreed to take the job. Their children were all born and raised in Greensboro, but are in various stages of growing up and running away.
Andy (or Anziano Lindsay, as he was known then) served a full-time mission for the Church in Italy, and today he teaches Sunday School, works with the Scouts, and is the Stake Video Historian.