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The Northwest Film Forum screening of Morgan Neville’s “The Cool School” that I viewed tonight was a welcome addition to my battery of West Coast mythology. In my head I call it The Cool School, How LA Learned How to do the Damn Thing and Start Loving Contemporary Art. The film was good, although, when I emerged from the theatre I felt a little bit like Wynona Ryder in “Reality Bites” wherein she is all pumped about her documentary being shown on TV and Ben Stiller (her bf) has totally “edited” it to within an inch of its MTV-addled life, I still really enjoyed not only the content but the form. Perhaps, the music ‘videoisation’ of the work is a subtle nod to the Californian Abstract Expressionists reliance on getting high and getting jazzy, the documentarian never admits to this, but its nice to assume that was the idea. I am blogging about this because I was overcome by the real sense of The Adventure Schoolian ‘Taking it to the Limit Every Time’-ism that the whole LA scene they portray employs, including particularly Walter Hopps, Irving Blum and their stable of wild artists. Let them be some trail blazers alerting us to set ourselves ablaze when that is what the recipe for adventure calls for. Leave a Reply |
