With prom season impending, it's not hard to relate to the Upper East Manhattan characters of Whit Stillman's Metropolitan, caught in a ritual we know to be absurd, yet participating nonetheless for some sense of social engagement. If Charlie's UHB is "doomed" to fall, it sure takes its time. 26 years later, we still seem to teeter on the edges, peering down at the "less fortunate" below who perhaps by now considers our web of rites just that. Why the debutante, the escorts, the after-parties of exalting decadence? I don't know. But then, why the ceremony of promposals, the dress and tux, the dinner party before the grind? Go, because not going isn't a socially-viable option....
Privilege and youth - two characteristics that pack the wolves of Sally Fowler. The film doesn't stretch itself to offer grandiose statements on either. It is ironically modest, presenting both more as elements that make up our loveable characters than social issues under examination. We glimpse little of the characters' privilege beyond what they are inclined to ridicule. "Upper class" seeps through in dialogue, mise-en-scene, and music, but it never quite translates to anything. It's a context, a sentiment, but never quite an agent or force. For a time, Tom offers a "control" to the money-blind Wolf Pack, as when he insisted on walking home rather than share a taxi. With his integration, however, that wealth discrepancy miraculously disappears. That was not some continuity error on Stillman's part. Rather, I think it represents a confusion - what does privilege even mean?
That confusion arises from the Wolf Pack's second characteristic, youth. Entitlement and wealth never quite mean anything because our characters don't quite do anything. Even with the emotional triggers and social expectations, Metropolitan does not try to hide the fact that very little is at stake. The film primarily takes place at night, at the after parties and sidewalk conversations that exists based on the vague belief that existing justifies existence. During these hours, the pack debates the abstract, seeking love and acceptance like any other youth. We are reminded periodically that grownups watch over all these proceedings; the debutante and after-parties are of their making. In a sense, the season is but an affirmation of their offspring's status, a status the offspring, having only dealt with it in trivial terms, believes is sealing their "doom."
.....Which brings us back to prom. Our engagement with the beloved rite of passage is perhaps as awkward as the balls of Metropolitan. On one hand, we recognize the absurdity of the event, the pretentiousness and indeed our privilege in insisting on limos and after-parties (on a boat, really?). On the other, we continue to indulge it. We live with the drama of prom season, of traveling down the Hamptons to "rescue" our true love. We do, because while we deprecate ourselves on our abstract privilege while we are young, we know the rites we ridicule are what makes privilege concrete. In due time, the immunity and socio-economic capital that comes with being "UHB" will make the trivialities of debutante/prom season not so trivial.
Privilege and youth - two characteristics that pack the wolves of Sally Fowler. The film doesn't stretch itself to offer grandiose statements on either. It is ironically modest, presenting both more as elements that make up our loveable characters than social issues under examination. We glimpse little of the characters' privilege beyond what they are inclined to ridicule. "Upper class" seeps through in dialogue, mise-en-scene, and music, but it never quite translates to anything. It's a context, a sentiment, but never quite an agent or force. For a time, Tom offers a "control" to the money-blind Wolf Pack, as when he insisted on walking home rather than share a taxi. With his integration, however, that wealth discrepancy miraculously disappears. That was not some continuity error on Stillman's part. Rather, I think it represents a confusion - what does privilege even mean?
That confusion arises from the Wolf Pack's second characteristic, youth. Entitlement and wealth never quite mean anything because our characters don't quite do anything. Even with the emotional triggers and social expectations, Metropolitan does not try to hide the fact that very little is at stake. The film primarily takes place at night, at the after parties and sidewalk conversations that exists based on the vague belief that existing justifies existence. During these hours, the pack debates the abstract, seeking love and acceptance like any other youth. We are reminded periodically that grownups watch over all these proceedings; the debutante and after-parties are of their making. In a sense, the season is but an affirmation of their offspring's status, a status the offspring, having only dealt with it in trivial terms, believes is sealing their "doom."
.....Which brings us back to prom. Our engagement with the beloved rite of passage is perhaps as awkward as the balls of Metropolitan. On one hand, we recognize the absurdity of the event, the pretentiousness and indeed our privilege in insisting on limos and after-parties (on a boat, really?). On the other, we continue to indulge it. We live with the drama of prom season, of traveling down the Hamptons to "rescue" our true love. We do, because while we deprecate ourselves on our abstract privilege while we are young, we know the rites we ridicule are what makes privilege concrete. In due time, the immunity and socio-economic capital that comes with being "UHB" will make the trivialities of debutante/prom season not so trivial.
Some nice real world connections here, Jeff. So what do you make of Nick's view that there's something a little bit patronizing (can't remember the exact word) about sitting around worrying about the less fortunate. Tom, it seems, comes to see his point and drops his socialist views. But this can't be what the film is saying about this group, is it? You're right in one sense that the class that these people belong to, if it is in danger, isn't much in terms of stakes. But isn't Nick's exclusion from this group a true loss? Also, what's wrong with the romantic (albeit totally unnecessary) "rescue" of Aubrey? I connect this right back to La Grande Belezza and 8 1/2; remember Guido was accused by his muse of no longer believing in the power of love.
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