Constantly, we are told about the best movies ever made, comprehensive lists of the best films of all time introduced and revised and republished more frequently than filmmakers can produce work. The films of the year seem like the most important films ever to have been made; the yearly cinematic genius seems forever to be at an all time high. In awards season particularly, it seems incredible that, in such a short amount of time, such high quality and purportedly meaningful work can be created.
Time rules our perception of the world around us more completely than any other factor. The ways in which things travel through time or are perceived in time affects entirely whether or not they will be remembered. And the way in which things happen throughout time alters completely our perspective of things from the past. Whilst we may look back at a certain moment in time and believe that it was incredibly important and encompassing, at the time, the experience was most likely entirely different. It comes down to the fact that we do not realise we are existing in moments of huge change and upheaval until the time has passed and we are granted perspective. Unless things move in extreme movements, punctuated by huge events which act as temporal rifts, it’s hard to understand the significance of a moment until it has passed you by.
Of course, living by this philosophy is incredibly difficult and is the reason that so many of us are consumed by our past, rather than focusing on what is directly in front of us or surrounding us. Individually, we can spend our entire lives looking behind us, basing what we do today and what happened before and that is a very limiting thing.
Cinematically speaking, however, it can be incredibly interesting. How a movie ages over time can tell us not only about the moment in which it was created but also, all of the other moments in between, the minor shifts in time which affect the way we understand a work of this kind. What we might have believed was relevant at one point in time could be forgotten in years to come and vice versa. Initial success does not spell lasting cinematic impact.
Of course, the easiest way to gauge this kind of information is by looking at films which enjoyed huge success long after their initial release. Looking back, it seems quite common for a certain type of film to slowly build its success, to move enough in time to reach their required audience. Sometimes, the target market has not yet been reached and it will take a few years for public opinion to morph and grow the right way.
On its initial release, Richard Linklater’s slacker movie Dazed and Confused received generally good reviews from critics, who cited it largely as an interesting throwback to a bygone era. Linklater’s representation of ‘70s teen culture was, whilst comprehensive and very interesting, perhaps made at the wrong point in time, in which people wanted to forget the ‘70s hedonism. 10 years after its release, however, Dazed and Confused was entered into Sight and Sound magazine’s list of best films ever made by Quentin Tarantino, an incredibly directorial presence at the time and continuing forward. Tarantino’s recognition of the film’s legacy enhanced its cinematic status and now, it is considered a comprehensive representation of the slacker genre.
Similarly, the now classic Harold and Maude was put under huge scrutiny by critics on its release in the early ‘70s, who failed to see how audiences would respond to the relationship between a young man and an ageing woman. Years after its release, however, the film found fame in countless late night screenings in college towns. Harold and Maude’s liberal sensibility appealed to the young peoples’ belief in personal freedom and expression, hearkening back to a time in which social life was apparently more free. Later generations’ view of the past as a more liberal time intensified their experience with the film, causing them to believe that, in watching it, they were interacting with a people from a different time, living according to different values.
Much like the countless painters and artists, who were barely recognised when they were alive, directors can go through similar fates, realising social recognition only after they have ceased making films. Whilst Bela Tarr won’t be a name familiar to most filmgoers, the Hungarian director’s legacy in cinematic terms is huge. The trouble is, his work does not appeal to the majority of the filmgoing public, punctuated by lethargy, social injustice and poverty. Whilst his final feature Turin Horse received substantial critical accolade, his most prominent feature, the seven hour Satantango went largely overlooked at the time of its release. Although the type of Tarr’s filming had not differed much at all between the two words, the time in which he created them had altered almost unrecognisably.
Created in 1994, Satantango presented itself to an audience unflustered by the earth shattering events of the early ‘00s. The mid ‘90s were, whilst rocky, much more lucrative and stable than later years. The world was arguably a more happy place. Fast forward 18 years and things look a little different. Amidst some of the greatest social, political and economic changes of the past century, the world and all of its people was no doubt more nihilistic and pessimistic. Tarr’s work began to resonate with more audiences because it reflected more directly their experience with the world around them. Time had changed the way they perceived his work and therefore, he found his audience.
Time constantly alters our experiences. Whether we remember an event or not, a moment or a point in our lives, time constantly reshapes how we interact with the world and the things around us. Retrospect is a hugely powerful thing and, given the right circumstances, can alter entirely our beliefs. What we care about today is ephemeral; the world we know is changing and we are all just along for the ride.