The Scene and Herd

I’ve been getting old recently. I know I have because I watched Toronto Stories last night and I really enjoyed it, even though it wasn’t good. During the opening credits I actually breathed a sigh of relief. “Canadian Cinema is so refreshing,” I said out loud.

 Now, I don’t remember ever saying or thinking anything of this sort before. Let it be known that there is a safe and permanent place in my heart for Canadian Cinema, but “refreshing” is a not the way I would generally describe it.

When I was in San Diego last week, I heard a song in a frozen yogurt place and really liked it. Johnnie’s little sister told me it was MGMT, a group I vaguely recalled hearing about before. I went home and watched all their videos on youtube, wondering how they’d flown under my radar for so long.

I don’t “get” Miley Cyrus or The Jonas Brothers, and sometimes I don’t understand facebook lingo. But that’s fine because these are boring cultural phenomenon. I’m comfortable being disconnected from pop culture so long as it’s stupid. What struck me about Johnnie’s fifteen-year-old sister having to tell me about MGMT, was that the song was pretty good.

For a while now, there has existed a culturally forceful demographic that is at least ten years behind me. Up until now, that demographic has been made up of children: half-people with no taste. Now that I’m 26, the group I don’t “get” is made up of sixteen year-olds, kids that are starting to form half-decent opinions. They’re making good music popular without my permission. It’s terrifying.

I think I’m suddenly finding Canadian Cinema so refreshing because I feel in on it. I’m almost offended by how much I enjoyed Toronto Stories, but I recognized the place and I recognized a lot of the people. I rarely feel this way about popular music anymore, even if it’s good. I like electric feel, but the video is just a bunch of kids messing around doing who knows what.

It’s not as fun to pay attention to music anymore, because the realm of pop culture is shifting further and further away from me. Today, sixteen years-olds are ten years younger than me. But there will come a day when I am separated from mainstream culture by thirty years. I don’t wish to completely detach myself from pop culture, so hopefully by then someone will be making movies about Toronto that are actually good.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UtUI5MC9tVM]

Like everyone else in the world with a heart (and an ear to pop culture) I love Susan Boyle. I was uncomfortable watching her on stage before she began to sing, and I did have a very strong reaction to her voice. But none of this had anything to do with her appearance.

The story has certainly been spun as a lesson about prejudice. Simon rolls his eyes when Boyle tells him she’s 47, and half way through the performance, as it’s becoming apparent that she’s talented, Ant and Dec confront the viewer. “You didn’t expect that, did you? Did you!” one of them says, shaking his finger.

But I didn’t expect her to have a bad voice. I’ve never harbored the odd misconception that only young and beautiful people have nice voices, and I doubt very few people have.

The judges themselves all made some cracks about being surprised, and Amanda Holden tells Susan that the audience was being very cynical. “I know everyone was against you,” she says.

Now wait a minute, hold up. I wasn’t being cynical and I was never against pre-song Susan Boyle. I was simply uncomfortable with her situation, as I should have been because it was a bad one. Before she began to sing, the state of affairs up on stage was rather unfortunate. If things had turned out differently, if Boyle had been a bad singer or even a mediocre one, that would have been mighty depressing indeed. 

Pre-song Susan Boyle lives alone with her cat, Pebbles. She is 47 and unemployed. She mentions, unprovoked, that she has never been kissed and then makes a sort of sad face about it. Pre-song Susan Boyle is depressing.

But the actual Susan Boyle, the one who can sing, is fantastic! As soon as she began to perform, it didn’t matter that she lives alone with her cat because she’s singing a song about loneliness. It doesn’t matter that she’s “never been kissed” because she’s singing a song about love and regret. Excellent - the redeeming power of music.

I was not shocked to hear a lovely voice coming from a dowdy and unfashionable lady. That voice would have been equally “surprising” coming from anybody. But I was relieved to hear a lovely voice coming from a lonely and unsuccessful lady. 

Susan Boyle is a moving character, not because her voice, body and background are incongruous, but because she has the talent and life experiences to render a beautiful rendition of I dreamed a dream. The judges, hosts and media frenzy have it all wrong. They’re putting words in all our mouths.

The Susan Boyle affair has not alerted me to my own prejudice. It has simply reminded me of the redemptive power of music in one’s life. Ant and Dec can get their finger wagging out of my face and everyone else’s.