Why We Should Let Go of the Idea of a “Classic”

 
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Generally, the posters of slow-paced, black and white movies can be found on the walls of someone who considers themselves a “cinema connoisseur”. The classics are considered the top-tier of cinema and what every movie should aspire to become. Those who know the category well are seen as intellectuals and, sometimes, more deserving of having the last word on any conversation. But should we grant them – the “intellectuals” and the classics – such high and universal value? When one of these pictures is mentioned, is it the actual piece that is being talked about, or is there a message on the unspoken? What does a “classic” mean to a society that is increasingly aware of which type of discourse is valuable and reflective of their complex lives? 


To be a ‘classic’ is not only to hold a name but to be the symbol. Originating from the Latin word “classicus”, meaning to be part of/belong to the higher tier of roman society, the word is also the ancestor to the term “class” in the English language. Following its devise roots in classifying what is noble and what isn’t, classic cinema, as we have today, has been weaponized: it isn’t directly related to innovation or excellence, but rather used to intimidate those who want to be a part of the film community but aren’t seen as “worthy” by other members. The internet is overflowing with comments trying to cast a shadow on someone’s personal taste, and when it comes to films, works such as Casablanca or Tokyo Story are referenced as a confirmation of profound knowledge and unquestionable authority on the subject – if the discussion is not about that then it’s one not worth having.


When that type of behaviour is validated, one may wonder: Could they be right? Is the epitome of cinema a 60-year-old movie? To which I’d ask back: Does a classic picture actually have anything that can’t be found in a production made in the 2000s? Of course, those acclaimed films come with a historical impact on the format – whether being pioneers and iconoclasts or portraying masterfully a universal feeling, they have surprised and moved their audiences in a very singular way. Yet, they are not the only ones since then that have evoked these responses. As the latest form of traditional art created, cinema has the freshness and flexibility of a teenager – it’s current, quick to learn, bold, but very thoughtful and curious when dealing with a dear subject. While there’s value in knowing when a certain topic was depicted on the screen for the first time or what the first film ever to be shot on a digital camera was, the movies produced today are made by people who gather references from the vanguards and apply it in the best-suited way to communicate with the contemporary audience, so it’s more impactful and relatable. Cleo from 9 to 5 had an immense impact on how womanhood was portrayed on-screen, putting the thoughts and struggles of a woman as the central subject for the first time. However, it’s hard to say that watching it nowadays will give as much justice to what is the life of a 21st-century woman as a movie directed by Sofia Coppola. As a way to explore and reason about society, relationships, and human behaviour, current productions are the ones that offer a more accurate representation and will most likely enrich the conversation, allowing it to go further, in and out of the big screen.


From a political point of view, classic movies can backfire: prioritizing them in current discussions about cinema may help to perpetuate tropes and stereotypes that are harmful to minority groups. Many people are starting to point out how many of the most beloved and consecrated pieces of art are racist, sexist, homophobic, or xenophobic. Classics, as universal and timeless as they might be, still reflect their time and culture and can age pretty poorly. Breakfast At Tiffany's character Sr. Yunioshi is a rude and whitewashed representation of Asian people, and the feeling of loneliness on Welles' Citizen Kane can only resonate with people such as Elon Musk. No one should be shamed or be left out of the conversation for not watching a film that goes against their beliefs or invalidates who they are. Holding older movies on such a high pedestal deviates the attention and keeps watchers from finding the artists that inspire and represent them – films that would add more meaning to their lives and make them feel seen.


Don't get me wrong – if you want to, because you’re curious and want to know more, or even want to turn this passion into a career, do spend hours on end watching classic cinema. Seek what you desire, dive into whatever interests you. Art, in general, should make us more connected to ourselves and serve as a playground to the imagination, and in such a personal experience, censoring what is “the right way” to appreciate something is the only wrong thing to do. 


In brief, holding the so-called ‘classics’ on a pedestal, nowadays, seems to be somewhat a gatekeeper-y move. Something to make one feel invalid for loving Lady Bird just because they have never seen Autumn Sonata. As the youngest generation of IMDB (or Letterboxd) critics, it all comes down to how we want to conduct the conversation amongst ourselves. It’s valid to choose to rewatch your comfort movies over a Godard one, to have never seen Clockwork Orange because you’re sensitive to graphic content, or to stick with your favorite director to be considered and taken seriously in the discussion. Consuming contemporary cinema can be “intellectual” and “chic”. No one should ever feel obligated to conform with a script just to be liked, and shouldn’t consume media that doesn’t interest them or perpetuates a discourse that they don’t agree with. There’s room and a movie for everyone.