What It Takes

What It Takes

Art and Polarity

By Shawn Coyne | Published: January 30, 2015

[I’ve been with Steve and Jeff all week working on a whole bunch of stuff for our upcoming release of THE STORY GRID.  So here’s a post I wrote back in 2013 that speaks to a crucial role of the Artist—Judge.  To read more of Shawn’s stuff subscribe to www.storygrid.com]

The other day I overhead this conversation:

Man #1: “I ran into Frank Smith (not his real name) at the beach yesterday…”

Man #2: “Isn’t that the guy who cheated on his wife, got a DWI, and said all of those nasty things about Jill’s daughter in law?”

Man #1: “…Well…yes…but I try not to judge.”

I run into this “I don’t judge” stuff a lot and it infuriates me on many levels. But as this is a blog about what it takes to create art, I’ll just address why this “moral position” is at best hypocritical and at worst a force as undermining and dark as Resistance.

If you want to create art, you need to make judgments about human behavior and take a side. How well you convey and support your point of view is a measure of your skill. On-the-nose judgments in art, like that hilarious statue of the founder of Faber College in Animal House with the epitaph “Knowledge is Good” are funny because they are so generic.

The epitaph tells the viewer that the setting of the story is a College founded by an idiot. What is really wonderful about that scene is that it appears in the opening credits, giving the viewer no doubts about the tenor of the art to come.

The scene in Woody Allen’s Manhattan where the Woody character is having cocktail conversation at the Museum of Modern Art is another one of my favorites…

Guest #1: “Has anybody read that Nazis are gonna march in New Jersey, you know?”

Woody character: “We should go there, get some guys together. Get some bricks and baseball bats and explain things to ‘em.”

Guest #2: “There was this devastating satirical piece on that in the Times.”

Woody character: “Well, a satirical piece in the Times is one thing, but bricks get right to the point.”

Guest #2: “But biting satire is better that physical force.”

Woody character: “No, physical force is better with Nazis. It’s hard to satirize a guy with shiny boots.”

Today’s “let’s all get along, not judge or challenge anyone” groupthink also reminds me of a major scene sequence in Milos Forman’s adaptation of Ken Kesey’s 1962 novel One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

Jack Nicholson portrays R.P. McMurphy, a good time Charlie with authority figure issues. He’s playing crazy at a maximum-security insane asylum to get out of a work detail jail sentence. Years ago, they sentenced petty criminals to hard labor. I remember as a kid being in the backseat driving South and watching chain gangs cutting overgrown brush on the median of I95—Donn Pearce must have seen them too. He wrote Cool Hand Luke.

McMurphy’s Moriarty is Nurse Ratched, the head nurse in the asylum. Louise Fletcher played this role so brilliantly—all ice and pursed lips—she had difficulty finding work after winning the Oscar for it.

Polar Opposites: Louise Fletcher as Nurse Ratched and Jack Nicholson as R.P. McMurphy.

One afternoon, during an interminable group therapy session, McMurphy requests that the guys be allowed to watch the World Series that evening. Knowing that the last thing the other men would want to do is stand up and challenge the way she rules her kingdom, Ratched sees an opportunity to put McMurphy in his place.

She’ll put the request up to a vote.

McMurphy sticks his hand up to vote “yea” assuming that his fellow patients will come to the same conclusion that he has.  By simply raising their arms, together the men can let this lady know that denying a simple pleasure like watching a ball game to a bunch of lunatics is absurd.

Which one of you nuts has any guts?

The needy fuser Cheswick is the only other one who has the courage to challenge Nurse Ratched’s command. Meeting adjourned. The men are then shuttled into the shower room for their evening cleaning. McMurphy is out of his mind with anger.

If you’re a writer, this scene is a perfect example of a set-up that dramatically portrays a character’s inner change.  How does Ken Kesey pay it off?

From the first moment McMurphy lays eyes on Ratched, the reader/viewer knows he judges her as rotten to the core. McMurphy is not afraid to judge. His problem is that he acts on his judgments too quickly. That’s what got him in the clink in the first place.

In the nuthouse, though, he is forced to keep the judgment to himself. He’s supposed to be crazy! And to McMurphy, only crazy people don’t judge, so he shouldn’t either.

But when the evidence of Ratched’s evil is incontrovertible to him, he can’t help himself but act. He’s the novel’s protagonist. He’s the hero. If he doesn’t act on his judgments, there’s no story.

Kesey could have made any number of choices with this scene. He could have had McMurphy act selfishly, like a child, and physically attack a guard or an inmate or himself. Something the character has a reputation for doing earlier in his life.

Instead, for the first time (and the perfect time) Kesey has his character act beyond himself. He changes his behavior. McMurphy sees that these men have it within themselves to judge Ratched as a tyrant. If he can make them understand how important it is to make a judgment and to act on that judgment—even if it puts them in harm’s way—he will help them. And helping them will help him bring down tyranny. He’ll win.

McMurphy, already known as a consummate hustler, challenges all of the men to take a bet. He puts all of his money on his succeeding. He will pick up a thousand pound marble bathroom vanity, throw it through the barred window, walk to a nearby bar with his buddy Cheswick, wet his whistle and watch Mickey Mantle play in the World Series…Who wants some of this action?

He’s so convincing that only the most cynical among them take his bet.

Playing McMurphy as only he could play him, Jack Nicholson grabs the edges of the vanity, squats and surges into the plumbing. He turns blue from effort.  He commits to the action, gives it his best shot. When he’s drenched with sweat, spent and defeated, he walks out of the room.  But not before turning to the stunned assemblage and saying:

“At least I tried.”

As a child in the 60s and 70s, I was raised on stories like this. (I wish we had more of them today) And they’ve had a profound influence. This is why art is so important.

These stories taught me that to passively disengage for fear of reprisal is cowardly. Making a judgment, taking a stand and then acting against an injustice or acting to support excellence is the stuff of the everyman hero.

And yes, not saying anything, not “judging” the horrible or honorable behavior of other people is acting too. As deliberate an act as getting overly excited about an idea and shouting in a business meeting.

If you don’t call people on their shit, you’re placing yourself above them, as if their actions are so inconsequential to you that they need not be considered. You’re above it all, some kind of Ayn Randian ubermensch behaving only out of self-interest. The same goes for not giving a standing ovation for great work because others remain seated. If you admire a work, let the artist know. They can use all the attaboys they can get. It’s Hell in that studio.

Despite the initially convincing argument that to “not judge” is an expression of empathy—who knows, if I faced those same circumstances maybe I’d do something like that too? —It’s not. It’s an excuse for not standing up for what’s right.

Not saying something is uncaring. Not saying something means that you do not want to put your ass on the line and take the risk that you’ll be shunned for your opinion. It has everything to do with you. Nothing to do with the other person.

I’m aware that the world is not black and white. There are shades of gray between the two poles of every value. On the spectrum of “Truth and Deceit,” telling a white lie when your cousin asks if she looks good in her bathing suit is not the same as running a billion dollar Ponzi scheme. I get it.

And yes, most of the time, keeping our big mouths shut is the right thing to do. We’re all guilty of misdemeanors and don’t need Earnest Ernies pointing out our shortcomings. And when we do confront someone about their actions, we need to do it with tact and care. That’s empathy.

But this “non-judgment, I toe the middle line” attitude is dangerous. There is no middle line.  Not judging is a judgment.  And it pushes people away from each other—I best not make a mistake and judge anyone or no one will like me…best to keep quiet and be agreeable—instead of bringing them together—I thought I was the only one who thought Animal House was genius…

The man I overheard who doesn’t “judge” the adulterous, alcoholic driving, rumormonger sends a message to the world that destructive actions are excusable. It is what it is… There is no right and wrong. Nonsense.

But it is his passive aggressive dressing down of the other guy for “judging” someone guilty of antisocial behavior that is even worse. It masks his cowardice as virtue. And to not judge whether something is right or wrong is the furthest thing from a virtue.

You must choose a position in this world on innumerable moral questions and stand by your judgments. Woody Allen made this point in six lines of dialogue. Ken Kesey riffed on it for an entire novel. It’s important.

If you are an aspiring artist and you wish to avoid “judgments,” you’ll find that you have nothing to say.

[To read more of Shawn’s stuff subscribe to www.storygrid.com]

Posted in What It Takes

17 Responses to “Art and Polarity”

  1. January 30, 2015 at 3:43 am

    Applause. Standing ovation. I agree with all my heart, all my mind, and all my soul.

    Ain’t nothin’ in the middle of the road but white lines and dead armadillos.

  2. Danielle
    January 30, 2015 at 4:22 am

    Absolutely agree! What amazes me, though, is that even in grad classes, this moral relativism stifles all healthy discussion and debate. Straight honesty–with empathy–causes growth.

    And as in art, the same is true in a healthy marriage. It took me eight years into my now fourteen-year marriage to appreciate my husband’s fearless honesty that continues to challenge and change me.

  3. Mary Doyle
    January 30, 2015 at 4:38 am

    You’re absolutely right – not judging is a judgment in itself, and it says nothing. Bravo! Glad you had to rerun this post – I missed it back in 2013.

    P.S. You and Steve and Jeff keep plugging away – lots of us waiting out here for “The Story Grid.”

  4. January 30, 2015 at 6:47 am

    Shawn,
    Great post. I cringed a bit knowing the times that I’ve kept my mouth shut for PCs sake. When/if I’m really honest about not judging, I think there is even a darker side.

    If I do not correct/judge/opine about an action/behavior/comment of a colleague/co-worker/subordinate/superior–then I am really saying ‘I do not care about you. I am indifferent to the growth of your soul. My comfort is more important than your growth.’

    It is cowardly to the core. It permits darkness to grow.

    Great post. Hit me in the face.
    bsn

    • January 30, 2015 at 8:47 am

      Brian, that’s more or less my litmus test for speaking up: do I, in fact, care about this person, or anyone involved? If not, I don’t interfere.

      But if I care about anyone involved, I’d better be willing to put my character on the line, or I’m putting it in the trash.

  5. January 30, 2015 at 8:17 am

    Excellent post and THANK YOU. I’m often JUDGED for being judgemental…in a world where “everything goes” why take a stand, right?

    I do point out that many people who lived before us JUDGED the world as it was to be unfair and worked hard to make it better for those of us who now live in their future. Labour Rights, Public Health Officials, the Civil Rights Movement, Human Rights for Women….it goes on and on and on.

    Hell, yeah! I’m judgemental.

    Why bother writing if you’re not also trying to inform and influence your reader?

  6. January 30, 2015 at 8:56 am

    It’s hard to create anything sitting on a fence.

  7. Ken
    January 30, 2015 at 9:30 am

    I’ll never forget watching Cuckoo’s Nest for the first time… When it was over, I couldn’t move. Nurse Ratchet embodied the steely eyed fundamentalist religion I knew as a kid… she filled me with McMurphian rage. That circle of inmates in the hospital (which was really a prison) called to mind all of us little boys lined up in Sunday School, afraid to raise our hand for fear of the nurse’s wrath. And at the end of the riveting movie, through the Chief (Bromden), I vicariously yanked that sink out of the tiled floor, plumbing and all and ceremoniously tossed it out the barred window… making a way of escape. I ran out with him. Free at last. An indelible imprint on my psychic memory.

  8. Lee Poteet
    January 30, 2015 at 9:30 am

    And I, naturally, will be judged for my dislike of making a hero out of someone who is hiding out in a looney bin to escape well earned punishment for his own actions. Given who is and what he has done and is doing, I or anyone else is expected to side with him rather with an overworked nurse in a dangerous position? Yes, I am making a judgment about the morality of the writer, his character and his view of American society at the time of the writing.

    But then I have walked through places where they kept the criminally insane. I can’t romanticize it.

  9. Stacy
    January 30, 2015 at 11:00 am

    This was a great post, Shawn. Thanks for reposting. Nice reminder that I should watch and study that movie again.

  10. Beth
    January 30, 2015 at 2:47 pm

    Excellent and true.

    However, using Woody Allen to illustrate it is the height of irony. Intentional?

    • January 30, 2015 at 2:56 pm

      Beth,
      I thought the same thing.

  11. Nik
    January 31, 2015 at 8:02 am

    I’m gonna go against the grain and say emphatically that we have no business judging other people unless we know the facts and circumstances of their alleged indiscretions. Apologies if this deviates from the usual “Amazing post, changed my life, I’m so inspired!” bullshit, but hey, I’m not here to pucker up to posteriors.

    Did that guy “get a DWI” or was he accused of DWI? Was he convicted? Do the people passing moral judgment have any concept of the difference between accusation and conviction? (Most people don’t.) Do you know he cheated on his wife, or is that rumor the result of a real-life game of telephone started by his wife’s secretary’s best friend’s hair dresser?

    That guy people call a junkie — is he hooked on heroin because he likes the high, or did he unknowingly become addicted via an unscrupulous doctor? What about the parents of that Leelah kid who are being dragged through the mud in the media right now? Were they evil, hateful parents who stood in the way of the kid’s sexual reassignment surgery, or were they confused parents who didn’t know what to do?

    And if a particular person’s actions don’t impact you, what business do you have prying into their lives, let alone passing judgment? These are important questions in the age of instant Twitter outrage.

    From a writer’s perspective, you cannot create authentic characters if you don’t put yourself in another person’s head and try to understand how they think, how their past experiences have impacted them, what they want out of life.

    And lastly, stones and glass houses. Everyone has their own little secrets. The wife of the adulterer may be a raging alcoholic. The pious preacher might have a browser cache filled with the most base pr0n imaginable. The public hero might be a passive-aggressive jerk in private, and an awful person to his family.

    Derp derp derp.

  12. Kaysha S.
    February 1, 2015 at 1:49 pm

    Great post. This is actually one of my favorite topics.

    I don’t believe judgment in itself is “wrong.” However, when it comes to judging another human being, it is really how we use the information or our intentions toward the other person, which make it offensive or acceptable.

  13. Becca Borawski Jenkins
    February 1, 2015 at 8:58 pm

    This is part of why I’ve stopped taking classes through the UCLA Extension. I loved the classes and professors at first…but I noticed after a while that every single one of them taught that you shouldn’t say “dangerous” things and shouldn’t talk about “sensitive” topics. I was criticized over and over for discussing racism. And as we’ve all seen of late, we’re a racist country, and I don’t think pretending we shouldn’t discuss it helps at all. The truth might be painful, but it’s still the best path if we want a better future. And while we might not like the language others use, to pretend no one uses it is incorrect and doesn’t help us learn and move forward. The truth needs to be spoken on all fronts.

  14. February 10, 2015 at 3:46 am

    Never were truer words spoken, nor at a more appropriate time in history. Still, I do not judge other individuals because I don’t see it as my place. The government and institutions and society as a whole? That’s a different matter. I read somewhere that political correctness is the assumption that a turd can be picked up by the clean end. As a direct result of PC, trust has eroded to nothing. Nobody knows what the other really thinks because so many people are busy walking on eggshells to avoid “offending” anyone. To the easily offended, I say Bite me.

  15. Jay Cadmus
    February 20, 2015 at 11:40 am

    It is in spiritual connection that I read this many days after it had been written. The words fit situation. And, for which I am greatly appreciative. Messrs. Pressfield and Coyne are “connected” here in this post; and, in others that I have absorbed. They should be applauded and fully appreciated for their teachings. Thank you.