Someone recently asked me if it is possible to separate the weirdo that is Mel Gibson from his films, specifically Braveheart. Is it possible to like a person’s work if we know him to be “problematic” in some way?
And those are not “scare quotes.” Some things actually are problematic.
Before even beginning to argue whether the person is problematic or not, the more pressing question is, are you, the audience-member, emotionally moved by the work, in the case of Braveheart, a film?
If the answer is yes, then it is not only possible to separate the art from the artist, but it is necessary, because in being moved by the work, you see and emotionally acknowledge some aesthetic value that it has.
Still, your emotional revulsion to the standpoints of the artist—be they political, religious, or otherwise—also has validity.
How do we navigate this mess of conflicting impulses and emotions?
I use what I call the Critical Content Method.
Critical Content refers to anything that can be critiqued or commented upon. There are three kinds of critical content.
The Included Content refers to the text of the work itself. In the case of Braveheart, the included content is the film, and ONLY the film. It is not critical interpretations of the film, nor is it reflections of the character of the real-life person, Mel Gibson. It is THE FILM and the film only.
It is not the screenplay, because the screenplay is a work unto itself. Only THE FILM is the film. A certain scene, a certain shot, a line, an intonation, lighting choice, art direction, expression on an actor’s face, music…these are in the film. Hence, they are Included.
It is rational and fair to state that, if we want to make any critique about a work, it is important to know what is actually IN it so that we know what we are reacting to.
If this critique were about another type of art, the Included Content refers to what the artist “included” in the work itself, and nothing else: the words, paragraphs or stanzas, punctuation, illustrations et cetera of a written work, the medium selection, brushstrokes, colors, size and shape of a painting, et cetera. (I may use “text” or “work” interchangeably; they refer to the piece of art).
Ideas, thoughts, and reactions to the Included content can be analyzed and articulated separately from the next type of Critical Content, which is the Implied Content.
The Implied Content refers to any intentional or reasonably-assumed-to-be-intentional meanings of the text. There are degrees of speculation that we, as the audience, have to make in order to determine the Implied Content, but it all comes down to one simple question: what is the author trying to say that goes above and beyond the text itself (i.e. the Included Content)?
A small example of this is found in “All the President’s Men.” When Woodward and Bernstein are trying to get information from a certain person, the shot of that person includes a metal rabbit on a shelf behind them as they are talking. The inclusion of this rabbit can reasonably be assumed to be symbolic: the person feels like they are putting themselves in danger by answering questions.
Neither the film itself, nor the script, let alone the characters themselves state at any point, “Gosh, telling you all of these sensitive secrets, I sure feel like this rabbit right now.” Yet we as the audience are able to reasonably assume the meaning of the rabbit (a piece of Included Content) to be a symbol of how the character feels, and by extension what the film is trying to say.
But that meaning is Implied, not Included.
The third and most mysterious and troubling type of Critical Content is what I call the Inferred Content. This refers to our societal, political, social, or any other kind of interpretation of the text that is based on our feelings, associations, or awarenesses of things not directly related to the work itself.
An example would be the historical accuracy of the piece. While historical facts play a role in the work, and are INDIRECTLY related to the work, critiquing it based on its adherence to historical facts is an example of critiquing its Inferred Content. By extension, critiquing the implications of straying from or ignoring historical accuracy is also Inferred, but this makes the critique no less valid in its proper context.
An example of this is critiquing the film Elvis for omitting the fact that Elvis became involved with Priscilla when the latter was fifteen years old. The film glosses over historical facts, arguably in order to preserve its subject’s myth and legacy; by not acknowledging this behavior and allowing the audience to judge it for itself, the film tacitly approves of it.
This is literally an example of critiquing a film for what is NOT in it. And would we reasonably assume that Baz Luhrman approves of a grown man romancing a fifteen year old girl, and that is his intended message? Possibly, but probably not.
But artworks such as films are cultural objects in that they affect culture. Could an argument be made that the disregard of historical facts and the resulting endorsement of an inappropriate relationship, even a tacit one, negatively impacts our culture? Yes, it could.
Getting back to Braveheart, another example of Inferred Content that the audience may react to is an active knowledge of Mel Gibson’s antisemitism. After all, Mel Gibson is IN the film. It could be said that his antisemitism is, therefore, also in the film because his very presence reminds the viewer of antisemitism.
However, since antisemitism is not discussed directly or indirectly in the film (i.e. in the Included Content), nor indeed would we reasonably suppose that Mel Gibson was intentionally trying to make an antisemitic film (i.e. the Implied Content) (and it would be pretty rare for any artist/author to explicitly do so), emotional reactions to antisemitism therefore fall into the category of Inferred Content.
To reiterate, antisemitism is, in simple fact, not found in the text of “Braveheart” on any concrete level, so a critique based on the Included Content would not be valid. There is no apparent reference to the inferiority of the Jewish people (or indeed any people, besides perhaps the English) in the symbolism or subtexts of the film, hence critiquing the Implied Content as antisemitic by stating “the film is antisemitic” or “Gibson meant to make an antisemitic movie” do not suffice as strong arguments.
Perhaps an argument connecting Braveheart and antisemitism somehow can be made, but these are not it.
Rather, it is up to the viewer to Infer meanings of the work that originate outside of it, namely in interviews and footage of the artist—Mr Gibson—that are then critiqued.
It is extant upon the audience-member to determine the gravity of problematic Inferred Content. How much does it matter to one’s enjoyment of the work?
This emotional impact on one’s enjoyment of the work is significant. However, one should not necessarily force oneself to subvert one’s initial emotional reaction to a work upon learning of problematic Inferred Content.
That is, upon learning that Mel Gibson is a creep and an antisemite, it is not inherently necessary to choose, intellectually, to dislike Braveheart if it still evokes that initial emotional reaction that made it “good” or enjoyable in the first place.
If, however, it now evokes a second reaction—one of emotional distress or revulsion—both of these emotional reactions can be seen as valid and both of them can go into the formation of one’s overall critique of the work.
For example, one can argue that, while the film portrays a powerful mythology of William Wallace as a freedom-fighter, this mythology is at odds with the verifiable fact that Mr. Gibson holds antisemitic views whose ultimate culmination would result in the oppression of an entire people. This tends to diminish the power of the film, and may have contributed to its critical decline in the years following its release.
It is worth emphasizing, however, there is no need to intellectually wholly reject a work that one finds emotionally moving. Instead, a nuanced critique of the work, based on a clear understanding of its Included, Implied, and Inferred content and to which category one’s critiques, arguments, quibbles, and emotional responses pertain, can produce outlooks that are emotionally honest, that don’t seek to censor injurious speech, and that are able to articulate whether an argument for or against a work is based on true logic or emotion, and argue consistently from that position.
What we, as critics and art-lovers alike, must avoid, is trying to blend emotional arguments with logical ones. This leads to emotional dishonesty and inconsistency, because liking or disliking a work because it agrees or disagrees with our worldview (a reaction based on Inferred Content), and finding any work that disagrees with that worldview to be unacceptable, opens ourselves up to the dangers of confirmation bias that occur when emotion is mistaken for logic when it isn’t.
Nor am I saying that emotional responses need be discarded or rejected. Far from it.
By recognizing that our initial positive response to the work is emotional, we can then try to understand why we feel that way, not only in terms of the work (i.e. what aspects of it succeed at evoking this emotional reaction), but also what forces in the viewer’s life, what experiences, et cetera, have caused them to react to this film in a certain way.
This self-discovery, provoked by the work, is entirely dependent on a clear and humble acknowledgment of the initial EMOTIONAL reaction to it. By applying purely intellectual exercises to the whole interpretation of the work, and in so doing “throw the baby out with the bathwater,” we deprive ourselves of this essential purpose of art as a whole: emotional involvement.
Similarly, however, we mustn’t overlook the importance of Inferred Content, which is to say the audience’s associative interpretation of the work, in determining its social and cultural significance.
Inferred Content, after all, can be intellectual in nature but it needn’t be. It can be just as emotionally driven as any other. It is just that what it reminds the audience-member of is NOT part of the work itself and must be judged and argued as such.
A perfect example is Roger Ebert’s visceral dislike of Blue Velvet based on how it made him feel. He viewed the intense physical and emotional abuse towards Isabella’s Rosellini’s character as violence towards the actress, which it was not. He was so emotionally distressed by this feeling that he didn’t like the movie.
I know what you’re going to say, and yes, the violence is Included in the film, but it is NOT real violence against a real person, Isabella Rossellini. This is just how Ebert felt about it, hence it is Inferred.
This is an emotional Inference of the film, which is rather simply explained: “this is how it made me feel.” It requires no more evidence—nor does it possess anymore gravity—than any other freely admitted emotion.
But more intellectual critiques of Inferred Content often require more specific arguments to be supported than of Included or Implied Content.
Far from suggesting that this renders them less valid or important, the value of Inferred Content is incalculable. Fair, nuanced emotional or intellectual Inferences made about a work allow the audience to articulate ideas and concepts that the artist may not have even been aware of. In this way, the audience can function as an Interpreter or even a Therapist or Analyst, of the artist, and bring to attention those ideas and outlooks that might limit the work’s value, brilliance, or timeless power, such as racist, sexist, antisemitic, colonialist, or classist attitudes.
These attitudes may not even be known to the artist; they may have “ended up” in the work unintentionally. They may be the result of the artist’s own life experience: their upbringing, level of privilege, education, and other sociocultural factors that are OBJECTIVELY UNRELATED to the work itself beyond this indirect connection.
They may also be the result of limits placed on the scope of the filmmaking, such as budget or geographic location.
It is also, of course, possible for the audience-member to infer GOOD, ADMIRABLE things about a work that the author did not intend and of which they were not aware.
It is extant upon the audience-member, making an argument of this kind about Inferred Content, to show evidence of their position. This can come in the form of interpretations of the work that are most likely not intentional (for, again, what artist would intentionally include racism or sexism in the work, or, if it is included, we would assume that the artist does not VIEW it as racism or sexism), in comparisons to the artist’s other works or public statements, to critical frameworks that assist with theory such as post-colonialism, Feminism, poststructuralism, Marxism, or other concepts, to the artist’s lifestyle, or anything else that can be used to support the critic’s position.
Here, we see a complication, between the Implied Content and the Inferred Content. How do we determine what is intentional and what isn’t?
There are plenty of action movies from the 1980s that include highly problematic depiction of peoples and cultures who were, then and often now, considered enemies of the United States. Similarly, racist depictions have been included in countless films since time immemorial.
How do we determine if these depictions are Implied or Inferred?
As with everything, it starts with the Included Content. Are these depictions one-dimensional stereotypes? Are they intelligent or buffoons? Are they violent, destructive goons? Are they characters killed off within the first ten minutes of the film? Do they have agency and is their culture respected or degraded?
Because of differing social positions and sensitivities, what is hurtful to one person may not be hurtful to someone else. So the emotional reaction cannot entirely be depended upon to determine the severity of the problem.
Hence, these critical questions about character depth can be used to make a clear argument, based on the Included Content, about whether the racist or otherwise regressive content is Implied or Inferred, whether it is intentional or unintentional, and how the critique of the artist is to be shaped and formed.
Dances with Wolves was seen as having problematic elements, for example small misuses of the Cherokee language. However, the film was viewed as a sincere and “well-intended” work whose purpose was to address past injustices and build bridges between white and Native peoples.
So, any interpretations of racism can be viewed as Inferred based on the obvious intentions of the film, which are clear in the Included Content.
There is a word I use instead of “racist” to describe such seemingly unintentional acts of, shall we say, racial oversight. The word is “racialist.” Racialism refers to treating different races differently than one treats one’s own, i.e. with different levels of attention to detail, with positive assumptions that are wrong, if well-intentioned, or the like.
Racialism is basically ignorance without malice. This does not mean it is not harmful.
In contrast to Kevin Costner’s arguable racialism, however, is the depiction of Indian Joe in the novel Tom Sawyer, which is quite one-dimensional and hurtful. This work makes no pretense of trying to address divisions between different races; it simply employs a racist stereotype as a handy means of creating a hateable antagonist.
Hence, it is more reasonable to assume that the racist attitude is Implied; that is, that Mark Twain held racist beliefs and he actually meant to—as in, intentionally—provoke racist sentiment in the reader.
It is not necessary for the artist to willingly admit “I am a racist” for these accusations to stick. Racism is often an unconscious attitude, and one that its espouser would very rarely identify as “racism” but rather simply their worldview. They’re not “racists,” they just think that Indians are inferior.
Obviously, this is racism, and it is morally unacceptable.
But the question of Implied versus Inferred is where the mystery of interpretive criticism becomes clear.
What matters, however, is that ALL THREE TYPES of critical content, and arguments that arise from all of them, carry a degree of validity. It is possible to have an aesthetic experience from a work that you know to be “problematic,” and also to be able to articulate that problematicness, and to deride it, and to intellectually reject it, and to have a nuanced critique of the work that integrates these seemingly contradictory attitudes.
It is possible for one’s intellectual revulsion at the Inferred Content to overcome that aesthetic experience. This point arrives with time and education, and with a visceral understanding of how that hurtful Inferred Content affects other people’s lives in a concrete way.
It is only through a development of empathy that this can occur. But, an average viewer cannot be blamed for lacking it prior to viewing the work, and deriving enjoyment from a work that others in possession of this moral sensitivity find reprehensible. They cannot be blamed, per se, for lacking a sensitivity that they were never taught, for (assuming the sensitivity is valid) this is a cultural or societal failure, not an individual one, and being blamed—not simply held to account, but morally condemned—for such is a surefire way to harden their resolve against ever developing it.
And while I may be in possession of one moral sensitivity, I may lack another. Each of us has our own areas of improvement that need addressing and that we are developing, in part, BY WATCHING FILMS, reading, listening to music, and intaking other cultural formations.
In maintaining this intellectual and emotional honesty, we are better equipped to understand and articulate what makes art great, what makes it progressive or problematic, what makes it bad or brilliant, and what we like or dislike about it, as a product of the complex social relationship between the Subject and the Object, the Author and the Audience.
We can do this without having to censor or condemn out-of-hand our own feelings, or an artist or their work—which is an expression of how they feel—based on how the work makes us feel, which, among the intellectually honest, is the basis of all aesthetic experience, and all art, and hence all criticism.
Aulos Media 