When times get tough, the tough cut budgets?
It could be argued that the arts must share in the current economic misery. I would argue, though, that the arts are a necessity, not a luxury, in times of economic distress, when more than ever we are asking questions about why things are the way they are and what values make life worth living.
When it comes to benefits versus costs of supporting the arts, studies done nationally and locally have shown convincingly that arts and culture activities contribute at least as much to a community as they extract in community investment. Three economic impact studies conducted since the mid-1990s, under the auspices of Americans for the Arts, have surveyed both arts and culture organizations and their patrons, quantifying the ripple effect of spending related to arts and culture. Lincoln, Neb., was a participant in the studies, as recently as 2006.
Information obtained from the Lincoln Arts Council, based on these studies, indicates that the nonprofit arts and culture industry in our community generates more than $36 million in economic activity every year, including local expenditures by organizations and by audiences. This activity, including spending by visitors before and after events, as well as by local residents, not only generates jobs and household income, it provides nearly three and a half million dollars annually in local and state tax revenue.
As well as generating economic activity (think transportation, restaurants, child care, lodging and refreshments, as well as paint and other supplies), arts and culture enhance the quality of life of a community, stimulating the creativity and community concern of its residents. Robert Lynch, president of Americans for the Arts, said: “The arts inspire us, soothe us, provoke us, involve us and connect us.”
As we turn our attention from tangible to intangible benefits, one area of the arts to consider is movies, both mainstream and alternative. While going to a theater to get the full experience in a large-screen environment may seem like an indulgence, the plot thickens when we question the easy assumption that movies are primarily entertainment. Movies, even imperfect ones, embody important elements of art, including inspiration, education and cultural criticism. We overlook or despise these elements to our detriment.
Looking back at a representative sampling of memorable movies shown in Lincoln over the past several months, some at The Marcus Theaters, others at The Ross, I find quite a wealth of messages important to our psychic and communal well-being. The following are a few examples.
“The Soloist,” starring Jamie Foxx and Robert Downey Jr., provided a timely look at two important social phenomena: street people, throw-aways of society, living on the margins with minimal help from the few who do care about them, and mental illness, especially our reactions to it. Audiences received the bonuses of fine acting, classical music and imaginative cinematography. Other food for thought and action (that’s a definition of education, isn’t it?) was provided by themes of unlikely friendship, becoming an ally, recovering one’s passion in life and finding joy in assisting another person. All this was a rich feast for reflection in times such as ours.
“Examined Life,” a documentary, was even more explicit, inviting the audience to listen in on contemporary thinkers in natural surroundings, expounding on topics such as our relationship with the environment, disability and the social contract and materialism and our stewardship of financial means. Anyone whose mind wasn’t working overtime while viewing this film would have to be singularly unreflective.
Another film that invited audiences to use their powers of reflection was “Synecdoche, NY,” one of Charlie Kaufman’s creations. The title is a play on the place name Schenectady, but also denotes a shorthand way of summing up a class by reference to a single member (e.g., food referenced as bread) or vice versa. In Kaufman’s vision, audiences encountered the universal experience of confronting our mortality through one middle-aged playwright, played by Philip Seymour Hoffman, and the people, especially women, in his life. The movie made use of the now well-established convention of magical realism, permitting great fluidity in characters and situations to take us on a funhouse ride through the playwright’s loves and fears, his agonies and consolations. It was a mind-expanding trip.
“Sunshine Cleaning,” which played to mainstream audiences in April, was misclassified as a comedy. Starring Amy Adams and Emily Blunt, it was principally a drama of two sisters in the midst of coming to terms with their mother’s suicide. The clean-up of trauma scenes came to mean, especially for one of the sisters, not only a much-needed source of income but also a way to serve others grieving a traumatic loss and a path to personal healing through a kind of bonding with the departed. As the title implies, light can come into dark places when we allow ourselves to become agents of recovery.
The last film I will mention is “Wendy and Lucy,” a spare but powerful indie film that played locally in April. Michelle Williams starred as a young woman on her own, stopping in a small town on her way to a hoped-for new life, when she loses her car and then her dog, Lucy. The only sound in the movie is ambient noise, notably from the trains running through, serving as a repeated motif of Wendy’s marginal status. As we saw her growing distress, it was hard to avoid pondering the plight of so many others in our society who are lonely, grieving, impoverished, fearful yet courageous and grateful for any human kindness.
It seems to me that the arts, including movies—many of which are outside the mainstream—have a vital role to play in forming our consciousness and equipping us to face the challenges of our day in a more compassionate and imaginative way. Rather than cutting back our personal and corporate investment in the arts in tough times, we should be looking for ways to expand it.
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