So here I am, on a mission to watch as many arthouse movies as possible. Armed with my popcorn and a thirst for cinematic experiences beyond the mainstream, I’ve been diving into a rabbit hole of indie gems and thought-provoking narratives. It’s been quite an adventure, to say the least. And just when I thought I had seen it all, I stumbled upon “The Worst Person In The World” after a couple of Reddit recommendations. The title intrigued me, and the promise of a protagonist ending up single but being okay with it piqued my interest. Little did I know that this film would leave me pondering not only about relationships but also about the nature of art itself.
One particular scene struck a chord with me, when Aksel, one of the characters in the movie, made a statement that resonated deeply within me. He said, “I think art should be messy and free. It has to be a bit dangerous to be fun.” Those words lingered in my mind long after the credits rolled. There was something profound and liberating about Aksel’s perspective on art.
Art, in its various forms, has always been a medium of expression that challenges societal norms and pushes boundaries. It has the power to provoke, to make us uncomfortable, and to confront us with our deepest fears and desires. Aksel’s assertion that art should be messy and free aligns with this idea. It implies that art should not be constrained by rules or expectations but rather embrace its wild, unpredictable nature. It should dare to be different and embrace the risks associated with breaking away from the conventional.
Aksel’s words reminded me of Albert Camus’ essay “Create Dangerously,” in which he argues that true art is born out of a rebellious spirit, an act of defiance against oppression and conformity. Camus believed that artists have a responsibility to create dangerously, to challenge the status quo and speak truth to power. Aksel’s notion of art being a bit dangerous to be fun aligns closely with Camus’ philosophy. Both highlight the importance of embracing the risks and embracing the untamed aspects of artistic expression.
As I reflect on Aksel’s words and their connection to Camus’ ideas, I find myself reevaluating my own understanding of art. Perhaps, in my quest for arthouse films, I have sometimes sought out the safe and familiar, gravitating towards movies that are critically acclaimed but still within the comfort zone of established aesthetics. Aksel’s perspective reminds me that true artistic experiences often lie in the uncharted territory, in those works that challenge me, make me question my assumptions, and leave me pondering long after the screen fades to black.
So, with renewed vigor, I continue my cinematic exploration, eager to embrace the messy, the free, and the dangerous. Because, as Aksel wisely put it, that’s where the true fun of art resides.