Fatigues

I am becoming increasingly fond of BBC television. They're not universally well written or intelligent, but at their worst they're a sight better than American television (so far, at least). In one of these shows I saw a subtle piece of business. “Robin Hood” is a tongue-in-cheek retelling of the hallowed myth. In this particular episode, a soldier returned from the Crusades with a healthy crop of PTSD, becomes a danger to the people of Sherwood when his latent programming from his time in the Middle East comes back to haunt him.

Alright, the plot is a little extravagant, in the manner of the show itself, and this is not a hugely historically accurate piece. There was one glaring inaccuracy, however: the soldier was wearing fatigues. Modern, military fatigues. It was a glaring addition, and I wondered if it could be that simple. Were they being that blatant? Yes. Yes it was, and yes they were.

Next question: is that a good thing? Is it productive to be that blatant, to push the underlying agenda in the face of the audience?

Absolutely.

There is a time and place for subtlety, a time and a place for simplicity and brevity, a time and place for all the finesse that can be brought to bear in the film medium...

And then there is a time to yell.

When a matter as important as the true human cost of conflict comes around, and when we who create have a chance to address it, we should do whatever we have to in order to treat the subject matter as it deserves. In this case, a megaphone in Times Square would not be too much (though probably a pretty ordinary happenstance there).

In this case, the show went on to explore redemption through action in a rather heroic manner, a manner that defied reality, which is pretty much par for the course in this show. It was not the most philosophical discussion, but it was a discussion. we should all be so lucky to have such a chance.  

Beating your Inner Child

Children are described in a thousand different ways, but almost all of these descriptions contain that all too familiar vocal gesture, the sonic equivalent of rolling the eyes (come to think of it, how would that work? rolling the vocal chords? the larynx?): he/she/it is just a child. JUST. Most people dismiss children outright, which isn't surprising, merely dismaying.
Children are far more complex and more capable than most people realize. Your average 2 year old chestburster is capable of more movement and manipulation than even their parents realize. The capability and lack of recognition is more than likely the effect of one very simple truth: 2 year olds are psychopaths.
Before you damn me as polemic and insane, realize that children (in their formative years) possess no structures for morality. They are essentially sociopaths. This is exactly as it should be. The little murderers-in-training have the monster beaten (figuratively, of course) out of them by time, experience, and hopefully good caregivers/patients.
Of course, the id remains with them throughout life.  We never fully lose the urges, needs, and impulses that make two year olds monsters and the rest of us merely human. Thankfully they are, more often than not, buried under so many layers of ethics and neuroses that pure impulse-urge rarely sees the light of day and we (as a species) can occasionally aspire to something more than complete and utter anarchy.
There is something to be said for these impulses and desires. I strongly suspect that pure creative impulse derives from that very same place. Perhaps being a full, complete human being requires a watchful parent-of-the-mind holding the reins of a psychotic, rabid animal-child.
As often as I've said it, it does bear repeating: human beings are cheaply made, badly run chemical systems at all times one very short step from total disaster.
All this bouncing around my skull, and I'm caring for children? Be afraid. Be very afraid.