With Oscar season around the corner, I've been trying to catch up on all the top picks for Best Picture.
My favorites are Birdman and Whiplash. These two deal with similar themes – the path that you go down to acquire some kind of skill, talent, or recognition; the sacrifices and challenges that go along with any kind of success with it; and how to cope during moments of real or even perceived loss of that. I think anybody in a competitive, creative field can identify particularly well with these stories. The self-doubt, the soaring highs when you succeed, and the crippling lows when you fail, and how quickly they can appear or even coincide.
Both main characters were attempting to bend themselves into roles that did not come naturally, and were suffering for it. Trying to carve the lumpy, imperfect you into the version you think you should be, whether it's for career, success, happiness or whatever, is pretty much the definition of ambition. Isn't that what makes greatness? Something about you was lacking before – by determination and sheer willpower, you can have it. It's a catalyst for change, for progress into something better.
I wonder how I would have viewed these ten years ago, when I was dripping with enthusiasm and motivation and hopeful visions of the future. Now that I'm older, I can also see in them characters that don't know themselves, who they are or what their limitations are. They're taking risks beyond what they were capable of, which in America is usually considered a noble and worthy risk to take, unless you fail miserably. But if you think about it, couldn't many people succeed one in a million times if they gave up on everything else and forced themselves day and night at it? 1% inspiration, 99% perspiration. It just means you worked harder than everyone else, and honestly, I've grown to feel that it's not always worth it anymore. I lived that way for ten years and I was miserable. I stopped and now I'm happier. Life is short.
I find it surprisingly easy to shake off these never-ending analyses nowadays. It's become much simpler. Am I OK, or miserable? OK = continue. Miserable = change something. It's a little sad when I'm reminded of the way I used to be through movies or other people, but I also do not miss it at all. My ghost chasing days might be over for good. I remember always hearing people say "I wasn't happy" when talking about giving up on something, and I used to feel pity for them, because I was happy doing what I loved. Now that I can see how much I lied to myself for so long, everything is much more clear.
