My Life As Jacque Cousteau

No, I'm not an oceanographer, a scientist, or an inventor. I like the water well enough, and I’m certainly not afraid of it. Boats are intriguing, the open ocean is spellbinding in all its forms, and snorkeling is okay. Nothing about the salty wet equivalent of space draws me in quite the way it did for Cousteau. On the other hand, I have my own world of fascinating mysteries I can’t wait to explore. This is the world of cinema. Herein is where our stories overlap. Truthfully, I could have used any person whose name is synonymous with their work: Walter Murch, Amelia Earhart, Ansel Adams, to name a few. Cousteau was on my mind because I began to wonder if learning more about his subjects somehow made them less desirable.

Before I begin delving too far into this original question, let me lay the groundwork. First of all, I know many people who watch movies simply for the surface of pleasurable eye candy, and certainly many films go no further than this superficial layer. For me, however, the cinema is what the ocean must have been like for Cousteau. Instead of the seven seas, I have genres and subgenres. Instead of sharks and octopi, I have Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn. Charlie Chaplain and Sidney Lumet are my fellow biologists. I don't look at these elements as alien from one another, nor do I imagine they are unreachable or unrealistic to understand. Cousteau's oceans, with all their hidden secrets, were invitations to delve deeper, and go farther. The movies, their actors and directors, and all the science behind the illusion, are my invitation to stand on the shoulders of giants, and push the artistry forward.

Cinema is more to me than smoke and mirrors, or camera tricks and special effects. There’s the manipulation of light and shadow, the willing suspension of disbelief, discovery of new talent, the processing of silver halide on acetate, unit cohesion on a set, artistic exploration of emotions, and, among many other things, a little something called magic. Cousteau would know what I’m talking about, it’s an unexplainable connection that is never fully explained or understood. Why did he like mantis shrimp so much? I’m certain he couldn’t even fully answer that. Perhaps it was a nostalgic memory from his childhood that so pressed into his mind that he never gave up the affinity. Why do I love shutter speeds and foot candles? or the concept behind the zoetrope? or even the subtle ways Hitchcock finds of inserting himself into his movies? I don't know. But whatever it is, it's behind me, and it's propelling me forward, as I'm sure it did for Cousteau.

The question, however, is not finding out what motivates me to be who I am. The questions brings us back to Cousteau's long career. In a nutshell, did all that exploration dissolve away the mystery and intrigue? Does finding out how dolphins communicate, or why whales migrate take away some of that magic? When we solve a mystery, and are no longer spellbound by its secrecy, there may open up new questions. But this is not always the case. As I continue to learn more about filmmaking, its history, the science, and the “industry”, I can understand how so many are turned off by finding the man behind the curtain. Although I would argue that these are not people who truly love the cinema. For me, as I believe it must have been true for Cousteau, there is comfort in knowing we can't possibly ask all of the questions. Unfortunately I do find myself a bit distracted by persons who think they have a passion in cinema. They serve multiple functions in life, but primarily to purchase tickets to the next Tarantino film.

Cousteau surely met hundreds of people who only liked the idea of the sea, and all its wonderful creatures. They read a book, or saw an episode of Planet Earth, and wanted a close up look of the cute beluga whale. In my line of interest, I meet these people almost everyday. They want to meet Angelina Joli, or Steven Spielberg; geek out over knowing the minutest details within a superhero film, or simply think they have what it takes to amass a cool looking action sequence (usually by forming their short movie around a special effect they learned in AfterEffects). I often invite these people into my life, and only later realize they suffer from delusions. For them, the movies are a topical relief to their mundane lives. To them, Sucker Punch was well worth the $8 ticket. This is the love of my life we’re talking about here, and they can’t stop looking at her breasts!

Comparing myself to Cousteau is a bit tripe, I know, but how else can I explain to you how cinema makes me feel? or the degree of passion I have for it? I’m not famous like Cousteau, and don’t care if I never am. What I do care about is the continuation of learning the craft, and enjoying the work of my fellow artists. Film is art, it’s just too bad some people paint Elvis on velvet, and worse yet that others pay good money for it.

Images above are of Jacque Cousteau, and the films 127 Hours and The Wizard of Oz.