Gil should stay where he feels connected.
How many of us would hop on the same ride with Gil at the midnight in Paris? Not many seats left, I guess. Who would refuse to have a beer with Hemingway, who would turn to plan B if hanging out with Scott Fitzgerald is your plan A, and who would dare to say no to have an affair with Picasso’s mistress in the 1920s?
Indeed, there are quite a lot of movies aiming at the theme of the golden age, but none of them has ever shown the same intoxicating romance and poetry as the King of Absurd Comedy — Woody Allen.
But if we say that Gil should stay in the golden age, doesn’t that imply that we should all be stuck in the memories that picture us the best? Of course, reminiscing is what we all do once in a while, and NightRide shuttle to the golden years only exists in the movie. So maybe we’re too immersed in the charm that the midnight society illustrated by Mr. Allen, then we can say “be there, have fun” But, if anything, that rewind spread out to be more of an erroneous notion that a different period is better than the one’s living in — so why don’t we appreciate more on the time we are living in than we do on the unreachable past we once lived in.
Comedies by Woody Allen, such as Cafe society, Annie Hall, and Manhattan, evoke deeper thinking about philosophy, successfully translating the unintelligible absurd theory to conversations that happened every day in the real world. For instance, thinking about why Gil left go of the golden age fantasy at the end of the movie helps us reconsider our issues on past-dwelling and present-denying.
Two major theories provide some perspective on Gil’s decision about the philosophical quandary.
Romanticism would probably endorse dwelling in the past, emphasizing emotion and individualism as well as glorification of all the past and nature where we feel all the joy and laughter.
Realism would rather focus on the present, rejecting imaginative idealization instead. Based on the psychological examination by Jennifer Yalof, she sees Gil’s journey as a repudiation of nostalgia because he ultimately rejects the past for the present. Nostalgia can be interpreted as a type of fantasy, and fantasy is generally thought of as a defense mechanism that allows someone to lose themselves and block out the bad. In other words, while it may be awesome to soak in the 1920s vibe, it may not be pleasant to live without a cellphone; while it may be marvelous to forget the troubles and sorrow in the modern days, it may not be ok for you to deal with the hatred and innocent in the undeveloped era.
Taking these two perspectives together, we see that while there are good reasons to dwell in the past, in terms of the joy and laughter we can have, there are also good reasons not to do so, based on how inconvenient and obstacles we have not yet to come up.
The same arguments apply to the debate over present-denying. “Nostalgia is denial — denial of the painful present,” stated in the midnight movie and indicating the truth that: while there are good reasons to hate the world you live in, based on the boredom and tiredness we experienced, there are also good reasons not to, especially those based on the convenient and advantage we have not yet to realize.
Looking into the philosophy that Woody Allen weaved in his movies, we moviegoers, life-meaning thinkers find a way to understand the great concepts that used to beyond our cognition. Translating into the language we know, Mr. Allen successfully enlighten our life.
Regardless of your position, present-denying is a mind-absorbing topic. If translating the core issue to another venue, such as at the midnight in Paris, helps us focus on the key aspects of the problem, that can only help refine our thinking. And Gil would definitely approve of that.
