So I was back at The Bagdad (that’s how it’s spelled, no h) in my favorite seating area, not too close, taking in this film I’d seen the preview (trailer) for the last time I was here, a few days ago. I’m within walking distance; I get a senior discount.
Marty is the epitome of “driven” meaning in this case he’s crazy-good at ping-pong which he’s coupled to a sense of destiny. At first I experienced the opening shift into a biologically-based reverie, like a medical documentary (about sperm meets egg), as jarring; but then jarring is OK in many a dark ride (theme park talk) and in retrospect (after sleeping on it) I see its point: Marty’s “drivenness” is greater than consciousness, more than just ego. He’s aware of that too. He feels chosen.
The backdrop is Japan rebuilding after WW2 and coming to terms with what had just happened. Sports are a common language, as the Olympic Games recognize. Ping-pong was just as important in creating a positive relationship between Americans and Chinese (fast forward; the film is set in the 1950s), in the Nixon Era. The characters each have their own motives. Marty is Everyman.
The Marty world is deeply unconscious, mired in the ant colony of New York, with its own metabolism, its gut. Marty is both digesting and being digested, with a foray to New Jersey not being any less adrenalin-infused. Gun fights. A mad dog. An exploding gas station. This movie has it all. The texture is close to noir, despite being in living color. Just replace ping-pong with boxing.
I didn’t especially like or look up to Marty, but then why should the point be some moral judgement? Who cares if we’d ever be friends; I wasn’t born yet and I suck at ping-pong. The point is to immerse oneself in a milieu, to soak up a set of scenes, and for that, one needs to be receptive, which I was. “Learn from, don’t judge” is my mantra.
My movie-watching skills are pretty good. I didn’t have to take any bathroom breaks, not last time either. I did drop my cellphone a couple times (it was on mute) and one time it slid under the seats to the next row, where I wouldn’t have found it until the lights came up, however a nice person saw where it slid and handed it back to me, even though this meant leaving her seat and crossing an aisle to do so. New Year’s Resolution: put the goddamn phone away.
The film deals a lot with shame, challenging the audience to see a lot of envelope-pushing, as lines were crossed. Marty is so over the top, especially in his relationship with fame and glory. He sees himself as a top star, a celebrity, a true hero, and wants access to the big leagues. He confronts what a lot of us confront: a reality in which we’re pre-judged to be losers, and full of skeptics if we think we have something to prove.
Marty is not only driven to succeed, he succeeds, in his own dimension. However his success is thanks to his preternatural skill, which comes more as a gift more than as something self-willed (not that he doesn’t ever practice).
So is it that reviewers hated the play? Is that why the actress (the star) was in tears?
