| | When you spend your teen years reading We the Living, Anthem, The Fountainhead, Atlas Shrugged--*repeatedly*--then mix in copious amounts of Fleming's Bond & a wide assortment of science fiction, you end up having a quite romantic, black & white view of the human condition. At least I did.
[And, I'm sure that's fairly true of a lot of objectivists.]
Romanticism is one thing, but there's also a real world out there that doesn't conform, not by a long shot, to the template of the romantic. That's not to say you celebrate or kowtow to the non-heroic or the pathos-inflicted (note, I didn't say *anti*-heroic or *pathetic*) but we all, at times & to a greater or lesser degree, fail to live up to our own standards or those we know to be objectively proper. That doesn't make us any less capable of rising above the mire or of doing great things, it just means we're fallible & often in need of a wake-up call.
The two leads in Sideways, Miles, the despondent enophile & Jack, the immature fiancee, aren't meant to be Hank Reardens or John Galts. As I said in this article:
http://solohq.com/Articles/Elliot/Good_Guys,_Not_Superheroes.shtml
"Gods never go through puberty." & "We live our less-than-perfect lives through illness, arguments, tragedy, destitution and heartache. We're defined not by these hurdles, but by how we overcome them, by how we use our minds and our passion... to live decently and triumphantly."
In Sideways, Miles & Jack *do* redeem themselves within the context of their own lives. Sure, the scale of the redemption may be small & flawed, but unless you require every denouement to depict a Galtian sermon, crucifixion & resurrection, then Sideways isn't exactly a depiction of wasted humanity.
Ross
|
|
