Ideal length for various pieces of art

Richard Brody of The New Yorker is thought-provoking if sometimes cryptic. In a short post on Greenberg starring Ben Stiller, he writes:

I saw Noah Baumbach’s “Greenberg” again on Saturday and this time, despite the title, saw it less as a portrait of the remarkable character—unusual but exemplary—played by Ben Stiller than as a romantic comedy. It reminded me that the rules of romantic comedy have changed—that the high-concept variety of the genre is more or less dead. The best romantic comedies of recent years are distinguished by their lack of a mainspring; they are, in effect, stories of people tossed together by circumstances who try to cope together. They’re linear films, which build more on character than on situation, and which, theoretically, could run indefinitely long.

There are two ideal durations for a feature film: sixty-three minutes, which is an hour of setup and a brief tag of a wrap-up; and three hours, of which the first hour of setup is followed by two of working-out. The ninety-minute length (or its modern variety, the two-hour version, which includes more backstory) is constructed on the artifice of a plot mechanism that brings lots of plot threads together in an accelerating dénouement. It worked in an age of abstraction—an age when movies themselves, made largely on studio sets with the help of an unprecedented battery of theatrical paraphernalia, achieved an extraordinary simulation of specifics through remarkably artificial means. The stories that studios set in motion were equally abstract, relying on situations that had the built-in necessities of social conventions that themselves ran along more or less unchallenged. Classic Hollywood storytelling bought its efficiency at the price of all it excluded or filtered out, and its ingeniously constructed stories were less the cause of that exclusion than the effect of a society that was hardly inclusive.

In a world where streaming video is starting to become a more accepted distribution method, more TV and film can find its natural running length. TV especially has always tried to adhere to durations that fit into half-hour increments (with or without commercials) since it made it easier for people to remember the start-time of TV shows and because all the other programming around it was scheduled around it.

Despite the lack of such constraints, movies now all tend to run a standard 90-120 minutes long. The run-times in cinema seem to be more of a marketing or economic decision than anything else.

I would love to see more movies dare to be shorter or longer. Many documentaries, for example, would really benefit from shortened runtimes. To reach a 90 minute duration, so many of them layer on heaps of unnecessary backstory and talking head footage; it's a bore.

At the same time, a great movie like the Italian miniseries The Best of Youth would not be the same experience without its six hour running time. On Italian TV it aired as four 1.5 hour episodes, but in the U.S. it played in theater briefly as one six-hour movie, two three hour blocks separated by an intermission. I saw it in NYC with about six other people one weekday afternoon, and it remains one of the memorable moviegoing experiences of my life. Spending all that time with that family, you come to know them as your own, and every emotion you feel has the associated weight of that intimacy.

It's rare to see movies of such length anymore. Would Lawrence of Arabia, with its near four hour runtime, get greenlit today? Perhaps it would, though it would be broken into two volumes, like Kill Bill, and released over two successive winters.

An economic lens on art

From an old interview of Tyler Cowen by Emily Moore:

Tyler Cowen: The economics of art is one good way to better find the art you will enjoy. For instance, I find I often like very popular art and very niche art, yet with some degree of allergy to what falls in between. What goes under the name “indie music” I usually find pretentious or just flat-out mediocre. I’d rather listen to Michael Jackson, or even Taylor Swift for that matter. That said, I’m even more game for some of the more obscure corners of Indian classical music or polyphonic Pygmy chants. I tend to be suspicious of “that which is aimed at being different”, perhaps because it too often caters to a feeling of superiority or trendiness and sidesteps its loyalty to a true artistic vision. Very popular art is often a more pure art in the aesthetic sense, even if some sides of it repulse us. I thought Titanic was a splendid movie, with all of its imperfections, but I like Béla Tarr too. I don’t know whether this same analysis is useful to artists who wish to stick with their personal visions, but it is telling them they will always face a trade-off, and they will always be somewhat unhappy with what the market rewards them for. Maybe they should simply get used to that idea and get on with things.

The essay referenced several times in the interview is “An Economic Theory of Avant-Garde and Popular Art, or High and Low Culture” (PDF). Perhaps we need to cut the NYMag Approval Matrix into thirds, with the middle layer, between the highbrow and lowbrow, as a danger zone of artistic mediocrity.

Among the footnotes in that essay, noted by Moore, is this: “The limited evidence collected indicates that the income of artists is low relative to their human capital.” I've always believed the same, explaining my deep ambivalence over friends who pirate content freely. One idea to subsidize art: income tax breaks for artists. Or perhaps artists should turn more to human-capital contracts, a way of making artists less sensitive to the wild income fluctuation inherent in the field, especially in an artist's early years.

Cyclone 4006

Via Maria Popova, this humorous review of the Cyclone 4006 - Ultra High Pressure Hard Surface Cleaner, 40,000 psi water with Full Recovery:

It used to take me 1 1/2 hours to get to work in the morning. It takes me less than 15 minutes now and that includes stopping to get an Egg McMuffin!

My secret? Easy. I bought a Cyclone 4006. Now, if there is anyone in front of me on the road, I beep my air horn once or twice. If they don't get out of my way, I turn on the "juice". If 40,000 psi water pressure (with full recovery) is strong enough to blast off concrete curing compound from asphalt, you won't believe what it does to a Toyota Corolla! Woo hoo! Beep beep! Wooooooosh!

OK, it's a little difficult to parallel park and it doesn't go faster than 30 mph. I'll give you that. But, trust me, when you are behind the wheel of a bright yellow Cyclone 4006, these things don't really matter.

PS. It comes with an "optional remote walk-behind head." If you figure out what this is, please let me know.

To really appreciate the review, you need to see a photo of one.

The Cyclone 4006 looks like a truck wearing a gas mask

The Cyclone 4006 looks like a truck wearing a gas mask

Sadly, the Cyclone 4006 is out of stock. Some days when I have to drive to work down the 101 I could really use one of these. I wonder how much it cost? I'm going to guess it wasn't available for free two-day shipping via Amazon Prime.

31 Days of December

November passed, and this year I'd forgotten about Nanowrimo, the annual tradition of trying to write a novel in the month of November, which also happens to be the month in which people try to grow moustaches for charity. Both are difficult, and I've never completed either.

I tried to complete Nanowrimo one year; I started strong, like a rookie marathon runner carried away by the exuberance of all the surrounding participants, the newness of it all. After a week I was several thousand words ahead. Of course I proceeded to crash hard and miss the deadline by a wide margin.

But it was a good exercise in the power of habit and steady, incremental effort, and so I'm going to try something on a smaller scale this month: a post on my blog every day. Though it seems eminently achievable, I have not, in all the years I've had a blog, ever achieved this.

It's often less about finding the time or about writer's block as it is about forcing myself to think critically about something every day outside of work and then pushing every post and line of thought to conclusion instead of abandoning ship midway to check Twitter or Instagram or my email.

Today marks one.

Ciclotte

I like the look of the Ciclotte, a high end exercise bike that looks like something out of a science fiction movie. Most normal exercise bikes are a visual blemish for most urban living spaces, but the Ciclotte is a real conversation starter.

However, those handlebars look to revere form over function. Though they are said to be adjustable, a more traditional handlebar shape would be far more practical for quick maneuvering into a variety of common positions.

Also, it costs over $11,000, so your wallet will be losing weight faster than you will. Maybe they'll make it into a local Soul Cycle class soon where I can give them a whirl while sweating and crying to the uplifting sounds of Beyonce's Halo.