“[The virtues of] Andrew Meyer’s black-and-white An Early Clue to The New Direction [1966] had nothing to do with technical polish. Mr. Meyer’s film hung on dialogue, cast and plot (of a kind), clearly moving in a new direction. Its central virtue was nothing less than a superb performance by an old man, Prescott Townsend, playing a Boston roué long past his time, who charms a young girl with his ’snowflake theory.’” –Douglas M. Davis, National Observer.
“Afterward, one felt that Andrew Meyer had opened a new world for [. . .] cinema, one in which many kinds of excuses no longer need to be made. An Early Clue to The New Direction [. . .] is unexpected, glorious, and indescribably moving, and I can’t forget it.” –James Stoller, Village Voice.
The title of this post comes, as you might expect, from Andrew Meyer’s film of the same name, discussed above. I knew Andrew during his years in New York, and later in Los Angeles. When he made films solely for himself, the results were fantastic. Later, he became a commercial filmmaker, and had many reservations about it. But it’s for his earlier films that he is remembered, and of all his works, An Early Clue to The New Direction is perhaps the most ambitious, personal, and inspiring.
It’s a beautiful, simple, positive film, which speaks to the hope of a future centered on new values, one that breaks away from the old and moves smoothly into a new era. It embodies the sort of DIY spirit that we should be seeking out right now, aiming towards simplicity, transcendence, and enlightenment. I hope to do the same thing in this blog.
In many of my posts, I’ve examined the enormous changes that have taken place in the world of the moving image, as well as in books, music, and other forms of creative endeavor. Basically, everything is going on line, and everything is becoming digitized, and the speed with which this is happening is breathtaking.
At the same time, the cost of making mainstream movies has gone through the roof, along with the cost of promotional rollouts for theatrical releases, so more adventurous films have been marginalized to DVD, streaming, or On Demand releases, with openings in a few key cities to ensure some visibilty, and also reviews.
But while all of this is true, and while hopefully we can agree on a few basic concepts that will shape 21st century cinema in the decades to come, we have to move beyond these ideas, and not only embrace what’s coming, but also envision how we can turn these new technologies to our advantage.
The world as we now know it is a very different place from that of 1966; communication is instantaneous, and images and text surround us. But at the same time, we have to clear a path through the present, and not be distracted by the everyday chatter of circumstance to see what democracy of images the future portends.
We have to think of the future in terms of potential, and free ourselves from the past. We have to remind ourselves that though the social landscape has changed, human needs are much the same; to communicate, to share information, and to seek out a community of others who share our interests. In short, we have to move into the future unencumbered by gossip, fear, or negativity — something it’s all too easy to embrace. We have to look for the best in ourselves and others, and seek out the light in everyday life.
The present often seems snarky, superficial, full of attack ads and snap judgments. None of these things, however amusing they may momentarily be, will help us move forward with renewed vision, because they teach us to be cynical about the world around us.
There is enormous pain and suffering in the world every day, but at the same time, there are unreported stories of hope, faith, and affirmation. We need to celebrate these images of compassion and enlightenment, and seek out the most positive aspects of the current culture as “early clues to the new direction” of 21st century art in all its aspects. This is what will get us past the present into the future. This is what, in the end, will inform the future of the moving image.
