Whilst mining the reaches of moviedom, inspecting the world for a decent drama, I know what I want. I want beauty. I want truth. I want a transcendent experience; the expansion of my reality by means of a story that thrusts me into a place of greater comprehension of the elements of this life as spoken into being by God. So, it is no stretch to say that when I look for drama, I look for God.
The question then arises, what of the other genres: what of comedy?
Should I search out truth and beauty in the arts of comedy as well as drama? Can I not be satisfied with just a mere chuckle or two? Can laughter be enough of a medicine to be sufficient for viewing? Why of course it can be, but I'm a selfish brat. I still want more.
What are the great comedies of my life? My immediate reaction is to blurt out Dumb and Dumber, and Wayne's World... maybe throw in Tommy Boy for good measure. None of those flicks will exactly rank among the world's greater beauties, yet they remain with me. Their impact on my childhood memory is permanent. So then, it seems that analysis is irrelevant on the funny films of my past.
It is time to start with a clean slate.
The unofficial commencement of this new adventure began with the Brit cult hit, Withnail and I. The way the trailer made it appear, this flick was the Brit precursor to the scenic roadtrip of Harry Dunne and Lloyd Christmas. Naturally, being British, I assumed that meant that I'd be getting a hefty spoonful of smart dumbness... some sort of Ignoramus and Ignoramuser (because an ignoramus is, by my definition, a creature who once knew knowledge, but has, due to extenuating circumstances, fallen suddenly, brutally, and Lord willing, comically from that prestigious tree).
As it turned out I was eighty percent right: the serendipitously stupid road epic of Withnail and Marwood was perhaps juicier in the ways of knowledge than their American counterparts, but they wasted said knowledge getting endlessly strung out on various narcotics... sooooo, kinda a crapshoot there. Furthermore, the entire experience ended up filling my innards with a reluctant sense of depression, in that I saw the hint of transcendencyness somewhere within the skulls of our two thespians, but nary a scene went by that they didn't dilute my hope with some minusculity. Note: if you can't tell for me, clearly, comedic transcendence requires some form of perpetual word creation. I can't tell you why I take such jovialness out of siphoning new words from my noggin, but alas, 'tis true.
Part III!Then, my redemption found: A Town Called Panic.
A Town Called Panic should have no bearing on the continuation of my daily burdens henceforth, or have any stake in this 'Comedic Transcendence' term. But nevertheless, it does!
The film, besides a frolicking good time, bears with it a single, lingering virtue: urgency. Every moment is saturated with a haste of living. At first it seems that this is what the novelty of the film is based off of, this speed of action, but the further down the rabbit hole we travel, the more absorbing that style of motivation becomes. Slowly, I come to admire such forthright urgency. I want to live like that too!
Conclusion!What is there to speak of in 'Comedic Transcendence'? Can it exist? Can it be found? Why yes indeed, it can be found amidst the smiles of laughter! The point of transcendence is the very discovery of something that will maintain itself well after the viewing experience has come to completion. I can carry this dynamic sense of urgency with me, you see. I can carry it along in my pocket. I have gained a valid resource in my personal undertaking of A Town Called Panic.
I could talk more about this all, but I've got things to do, places to be!
I go. I go now! With Haste!
*Quoted title from Empire Magazine