Movie as Myth: The Soul-Awakening Magic of the Cinema
by Sue Pesznecker

I've grown up in love with the movies. I can recall the moments of my life that hinged around trips to the theater, that swung on whether or not I could score an extra five cents to buy one of those all-day Charms suckers that lasted through the whole feature and turned your tongue a brilliant magenta. I've spent many a Friday night at the movies, my pile of ticket stubs saved in a clear glass jar. I talk about movies, and even more, I think about them and the impact they've had on me. As for my favorite films, I watch them over and over, seeing new things each time.

What is it that draws us to the movies? How does a piece of film have the power to wring tears and laughter from our depths and pull gooseflesh from our arms? Why do we spend hundreds of millions of dollars a year in support of the film industry? Why are books written, awards given, and lifetimes devoted to film? Why do we argue about the best films of all time, the outstanding performances, the greatest characters? As a rule, people are passionate about their favorite movies, and are quick to recommend and defend them, as well as to watch them over and over again. Why? Why does it matter so much? Why does film seem to touch us so deeply?

If this paper could suddenly morph into film, the image would now fade to the television series, Northern Exposure (NX), set in fictional Cicely, Alaska. In episode 5.7, "Rosebud," Native American Shaman Leonard Quinhagak hopes to discover the white collective unconscious by delving into American folklore (Northern Exposure, "Rosebud").

INT: THE BRICK, Cicely's main watering hole and restaurant. Shaman LEONARD QUINHAGAK sits at the bar, nursing a beer and rifling through a pile of papers. HOLING VINCOEUR, the bar's sixty-something proprietor, walks over to say hello.

HOLING
Hello, Leonard. Here on business or pleasure?

LEONARD.
Well, I supposed you'd call it business. Research, cross-referencing. I have clients in the white community. Our people are starting to assimilate. The more I know about white culture, its mythology, its medicine, and so on, the more I can expand my practice. I thought I'd start with the stories.

HOLING
What stories?

LEONARD
You know, the healing stories.

HOLING
I'm afraid I'm not with you, Leonard.

LEONARD
Well, traditionally, healers such as myself found that storytelling has great curative powers. People are fortified by parables, legends, you might call them. In our culture, the theme is frequently one of faith, or perseverance. I'm looking for parallel stories in white culture–– expressions of the collective unconscious.

HOLING
You mean folk stories, like Paul Bunyan?

(Looking interested, LEONARD gets out a tape recorder and microphone, and turns it on.)

LEONARD
Yeah, I know about him. Mythic logger, right? What exactly was his story?

HOLING
Well, he was this ten foot tall logger who had an ox.

LEONARD
Let me ask you: how does this character's story impact on your life? Are you aware of his influence in your daily activities?

HOLING (Pauses, looking puzzled.)
I've gone for years without ever even thinking about him.

LEONARD (Looks pensive as he clicks microphone off.)
Interesting.

In the foreword to Myth and the Movies, Christopher Vogler describes the stories of the earliest humans. "From their awe and fascination with the mystery of the world's grand design they forged the first mythic stories. The myths were attempts to explain, in an indirect, poetic, metaphoric way, the purpose and place of the humans in the vast design" (Voytilla vii). According to Rosenburg, "Myths reflect human nature with its needs and desires, hopes and fears. Myths reveal the human condition. . . . [and] cultural responses to the ever-important questions: Who am I? How should I lead my life? Thus, they reveal the different ways in which human beings respond to the issues that unite them" (xiii). Benet's Reader's Encyclopedia defines myth is "A story belonging to any culture that is derived from primitive beliefs, presenting supernatural episodes to explain cosmic forces and the natural order"(715). Given their extension across numerous civilizations, myths are timeless and––considering cultural variations–– are nearly placeless as well With the tools provided by myth, people search for answers to eternal questions, such as, "Who made this world, and why? . . . How do we relate to the great forces of life and death, female and male, creation and destruction, light and darkness?" (Voytilla vii). Such stories are precisely the ones Leonard seeks in questioning Cicely's residents about the myths that may have been instrumental in directing their lives.

INT: THE CHURCH, site of Cicely's town meetings and community events.

LEONARD sits at a table at the front of the church, below the altar area. The table is covered with files, papers, and his tape recorder. MAGGIE O'CONNELL, a fiercely independent bush pilot, sits across the table from LEONARD. MAGGIE leans forward slightly, watching as LEONARD arranges his notes. Several other townspeople, including one WOMAN, sit behind MAGGIE in the pews. LEONARD speaks into the microphone, reading from his papers.

LEONARD
Research into white healing myths, continued. The source is MAGGIE O'Connell, a Caucasian woman in her mid thirties . . .

MAGGIE (Leans forward and points at a spot at the paper.)
Thirty-one.

LEONARD
. . . from Grosse Pointe, Michigan. Scotch-Irish descent, college education. Current occupation: bush pilot. (Sets down papers and looks expectantly at MAGGIE.) Go ahead.

MAGGIE (Leans forward, excitedly.)
Okay, this supposedly really happened, to the daughter of a lady in my mother's bridge club. This girl was a senior in high school back in the sixties, and she had one of those thick, ratted hairdos—a beehive. That was the style back then. Anyway, one day she felt that her scalp was itching, so she went to see her hairdresser. And when the hairdresser peered into the beehive, what do you think he saw?

WOMAN (Leans forward in her pew and speaks in a loud voice.)
A nest of black widow spiders!

MAGGIE (Turns around to talk to the other WOMAN.)
No, maggots. They were maggots.

WOMAN
Well, I heard it happened to a schoolteacher over in Cantwell, and it was black widow spiders.

MAGGIE
Huh. Really? The same story?

WOMAN
To the letter, except for the type of insect.

MAGGIE (Shrugs at LEONARD with a "go figure" type of expression.)
Hmmm. Well, anyway, she used sugar water to hold the hair up.

WOMAN
Huh uh. Hairspray. The bugs were drawn to it.

(Raising her eyebrows and nodding slightly, MAGGIE gives LEONARD a look of validation.)

LEONARD
Then what happened?

MAGGIE (Looks confused.)
Well, um, maybe she got her hair cut?

LEONARD
Did the insects say anything? Impart any wisdom?

MAGGIE
No. They were real maggots. Or spiders.

LEONARD (Turns off tape recorder and looks disappointed.)
I see.

MAGGIE
Wait! Maybe she had a nervous breakdown.

LEONARD
Oh. Well, thank you.

MAGGIE (Smiles.)
Uh huh.

LEONARD
Next.

(MAGGIE leaves. The WOMAN rushes up and plops into the chair. She doesn't even wait for LEONARD to tell her to begin. She gestures as she speaks, her eyes wide.)

WOMAN
A lady comes into Marshall Fields and tries on this mink stole. The kind with the head still attached? Only the mink isn't quite dead yet and he bites a big chunk out of her arm.

LEONARD (Turns tape back on.)
Hold on. Yes, go ahead.

WOMAN (Nods, knowingly.)
They gave her the mink.

(Fade to black, as LEONARD looks at the WOMAN with puzzled disbelief.)

Many psychoanalysts have attempted to explain myth in terms of human behavior. Sigmund Freud views myth as the expression of unconscious wishes, fears, and drives. Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell see myth as the expression of a collective unconscious, in which a universal set of characteristics determine how persons everywhere respond to the process of living. Other interpretations include myth as the essence of religion (Mircea Eliade), the struggle for survival in the face of economic uncertainty (Paul Radin), and abstractions of a common structure (e.g., good versus evil, life versus death) (Claude Leví-Strauss). Leví-Strauss also believes that myth often uses opposing characters as a way to overcome contradictions, conflict, and struggle (Rosenberg xx-xxii).

According to Rosenberg, the functions of myth are to teach, to inspire, and to share cultural knowledge or perspective (Rosenberg xvi). Myths exist to explain the nature of the universe and to instruct the community in the attitudes and behavior necessary to function successfully in that culture. In other words, myths teach people how to become civilized. Which brings us back to Leonard. While stories of maggot-infested hairdos and giant loggers aren't what he has in mind, he perseveres, certain that the mythic stories he seeks will surface.

Fade to INT: Once again LEONARD sits at his table in THE CHURCH. He is alone. His papers and tape recorder are in a very neat pile set to one side and his feet are crossed on top of the table. He reads a copy of Newsweek and looks distracted. SHELLEY VINCOEUR, HOLING'S nineteen year old airhead-esque wife and THE BRICK's barmaid, enters. LEONARD doesn't change position and barely looks up.

SHELLEY
Hey, Leonard.

LEONARD
Hi, Shelley.

SHELLEY
In the middle of the night I remembered this totally superior story. Ready?

LEONARD (Sits up slowly, puts magazine down, and starts tape.)
Just give me a second…Okay.

SHELLEY
It happened in Texas somewhere. Okay. There's this guy, real horn dog, always dipping his wick in the wrong wax. He gets picked up by this babe. She takes him back to her hotel, they have a couple of drinks, he starts to go woozy, he passes out. He wakes up, he's tied to a chair, and there's this teeny weensy scar couple of inches above his hipbone. Couple days later his pee turns pink. So, he goes to the doctor. Doc gives him the once over and…

(SHELLEY leans forward, conspiratorially. LEONARD waits, showing no expression.)

SHELLEY
One of his kidneys is gone!

(SHELLEY sits back, looking very satisfied.)

LEONARD
Gone.

SHELLEY
You got it. Yesterday's shoes.

LEONARD (Hopefully.)
The woman had charmed the organ out of his body?

SHELLEY
No. She cut it out, with a Swiss Army knife.

LEONARD (Frowns slightly.)
What was the purpose of this?

SHELLEY
To sell to rich people who need organs in Europe.

LEONARD
And this story is felt to have some sort of value in everyday life?

SHELLEY (Looks confused.)
Huh?

LEONARD
Was there some sort of life-altering consequence, some moral derivative?

SHELLEY (Nods vigorously.)
Think twice before you leave the bar. ‘Cause there are some wacko babes out there.

(LEONARD looks at her stolidly as the scene fades to black.)

In another part of Cicley, Ed Chigliak is having his own problems. Ed, a young Tlingit and a Shaman-in-training apprenticed to Leonard, is also a budding filmmaker with a prodigious knowledge of film and filmmaking. Town magnate Maurice Minnifield has decided to bankroll Cicely's first film festival and has put Ed in charge. Stimulated by the genius of Orson Welles, Ed has selected Orson Welles as the festival's focus, with Welles' masterpiece, Citizen Kane, at its center.

INT: ED CHIGLIAK looks out the window from inside the GROCERY STORE where he works. He is watching MAGGIE O'CONNELL, who is not only the town's bush pilot but also its mail carrier. MAGGIE has just parked across the street, her pickup full of mail and packages. Grinning broadly, ED drops his broom and walks over to meet MAGGIE.

EXT: A street in CICELY.

ED
Hey! Hey, Maggie! Are these for me?

MAGGIE (Slapping her hand grandly against a stack of boxes.)
26 reels of Orson Welles films.

ED
These are the real thing, MAGGIE. Thirty-five millimeter. I mean, I've shot super eight and sixteen mil, but this is different. It's got weight. Struck from the optical print, the original you know. It's almost like touching something that Orson Welles touched himself.

MAGGIE (Pausing and looking contemplative.)
I love the part where the dining room table keeps getting bigger and bigger, until he and his wife are yards apart.

ED
Yup. A few seconds to illustrate a lifetime of alienation.

(MAGGIE and ED both nod, looking pleased.)

ED
He was a magician you know.

MAGGIE
Yeah.

ED
No, I mean a real magician, Maggie. He used to do tricks.

MAGGIE
Really?

ED
His whole concern was with how things could be made to look. Like sleight of hand? He didn't want to reproduce reality: he wanted to recreate it.

MAGGIE
Would you like some time alone with him, ED?

ED (Looks sheepish.)
Well, if you wouldn't mind.

(MAGGIE leaves. ED stands in the street, pulling out arm lengths of film and holding them up against the sky, a beatific smile on his face.)


Film critic Pauline Kael writes, "Movies attract us from earliest childhood because they excite us and work on us, and perhaps movies came to the fore in the sixties because, unlike books but like rock music, movies could be experienced tribally" (Kael xi). According to Jones, "Film wouldn't be a successful transporter to other worlds if it weren't for the fact that filmgoers have this natural tendency to 'participate' in the mythic process [and] intimately and spiritually involve themselves in the magic of the cinema" (Jones). Vogler agrees: "The mythic impulse is driven by the very human tendency to learn about ourselves through comparison…We automatically [see every movie] as a metaphor and measure our own performance and behavior against those of the heroes and villains" (Voytilla ix). Young states that films are…capable of representing the full range of human [emotions] through perceptual, cognitive and symbolic process occurring within viewers" (Young 2001). Kael adds, "It says something about the nature of movies that people don't say they like them, they say they love them—yet even those who love movies may feel that they can't always handle the emotions that a film heats up" (Kael xii).

In watching Ed Chigliak, we see the tremendous power of the mythic presence of Orson Welles. Jung and Campbell believe that the contents of the collective unconscious are expressed as archetypes: mother, child, hero, trickster, giant, etc. The archetypes themselves are affected by the unique physical, social, and other characteristics that belong to the culture in question; yet, as archetypes, they retain a set of basic characteristics that allow their lessons to be understood in any context. For example, a hero is a hero, whether he is Oscar Schindler in Schindler's List or Odysseus of Ithaca. A warrior is a warrior, whether Sheriff Brody in Jaws or the Anglo-Saxon Beowulf. A wise figure is a wise figure, whether Obi-Wan Kenobi from Star Wars or Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce. And a mother is a mother, whether she is Fraulein Maria in The Sound of Music or Hera, goddess of marriage and birth (Lindemans). Films teem with mythic archetypes that are easily understood and internalized, and many schools of psychotherapy, including Transactional Analysis, believe that humans try subconsciously to pattern their lives in accordance with these mythic archetypes. To Ed Chigliak, Orson Welles and his "Charles Foster Kane" character are mythic archetypes of epic proportion.

For help in getting the festival on its feet, Ed contacts his friend, Orson Welles biographer and film director Peter Bogdanovich. In a classic bit of NX surrealism, no one questions the fact that twenty-one year old Ed not only knows Bogdanovich, but has conducted a multi-year fax correspondence with him. Bogdanovich arrives in Cicely to serve as keynote speaker and advisor for the film festival.

EXT: The WOODS around CICELY. ED is walking with movie director PETER BOGDANOVICH, and the two are discussing the book that BOGDANOVICH wrote about Orson Welles.

ED
My favorite quote from your book is where Orson says, "To function happily, I like to feel a little like Columbus. In every new scene, I want to discover America. And I don't want to hear about those damn Vikings." That's just what movie making is, you know: a journey of discovery.

BOGDANOVICH
ED, there's something I don't understand. Why haven't you made a movie?

ED (Shrugs, looks uncomfortable.)
Well….

BOGDANOVICH
Why don't you get on with it? You've got the knowledge, you've got the passion.

ED
You know, I have made a couple music videos for a local band.

BOGDANOVICH
No, no. I mean a real movie. You know, work the Native American thing. Get yourself some funding. Get Lou Diamond Philips. ED, there are directors out there that are twenty, twenty-one years old.

ED
Well, I've got this Shaman thing going.

BOGDANOVICH
What?

ED
Oh, I'm a Shaman.

BOGDANOVICH
What is it? A medicine man?

ED
Well, we like to say healer. You know, it's a cultural thing. Takes up a lot of my time.

BOGDANOVICH
I see.

ED
Yeah.

BOGDANOVICH
Well, I'm sure you're a very good Shaman.

(ED laughs nervously, wrings his hands, and blows air in and out of cheeks as they walk out of the scene.)

A common theme of myth and legend is that of human weakness. Traditional heroic myths examine the relationship between a hero's values and his responsibility to society. But no hero is perfect, and their weaknesses and mistakes often end up being as important to the overall lesson as are their heroic qualities (Rosenberg xvii). In many cases, their greatest strengths (e.g., Odysseus' intelligence and confidence) may prove to be their greatest liabilities. We see this in Luke Skywalker's careless adolescent bravado in Star Wars, and in the fisherman Quint's mano-a-mano attempt to take on a killer shark in Jaws.

INT: The LIVING ROOM of MAURICE MINNEFIELD'S home, where ED has just arrived. MAURICE, a retired astronaut, is a wealthy businessman and sees himself as the town Patriarch. ED and MAURICE stand inside the entry, talking about the soon-to-be Cicely Film Festival. Although MAURICE has funded the festival and has charged ED with putting it together, ED has made no progress on the actual arrangements, and MAURICE is obviously displeased. ED gropes through his jacket pockets, takes out a bottle of pills and tosses back a couple.

MAURICE
What's that?

ED
Pills.

MAURICE
What for?

ED
My stomach.

MAURICE
Stomach flu?

ED
No, it's stomach spasms, MAURICE. Dr. Fleischman gave them to me but they're not helping much. He says they're for stress.

MAURICE
Pardon me, ED, but what do you know about stress? You're not even doing anything.

ED
I'm stressed, MAURICE.

MAURICE
Sit down, son. (Drums fingers on chair back nervously, as if gathering strength.)

(ED sits. MAURICE paces.)

MAURICE
ED, how old are you?

ED
I'll be 22 this March, MAURICE. Do you know that Orson Welles had already made War of the Worlds at my age? Already caused people to jump off buildings. And in three years, he would make Citizen Kane.

MAURICE
ED, Don't you think it's time that you started taking your life a little more seriously?

ED
Yeah. (Looks into the distance and nods as if he is answering himself.)

MAURICE
I had great hopes for you, son. I gave you tremendous responsibility with this film festival. Chance of a lifetime. But you didn't step up to the plate. You've used a good chunk of my change and all you've done is watch Orson Welles movies and fly that friend of his out here to drink my Merlot and eat my tomatoes. And you, son (points finger)…you are off the project. (Gestures hopelessly as if to say, I give up.)

ED (Looks very stressed.)
Okay.

Fades to black.

If we consider Ed Chigliak to be the mythic hero of NX "Rosebud," we must assume that he has both heroic potential and potentially fatal weaknesses. The conflict between Ed's responsibility to society (Maurice and the film festival) and his quest for self-realization (artistic vision) is also apparent. If the mythic protocol is followed, Ed's journey will end with transformation, and a requisite loss of innocence. Orson Welles is quoted as saying, "Even if the good old days never existed, the fact that we can conceive of such a world is, in fact, an affirmation of the human spirit. That the imagination of man is capable of creating the myth of a more open, more generous time is not a sign of our folly. Every country has…a season of innocence, a dew-bright morning of the world" (Olson). The concept of innocence, and the motifs surrounding its loss, frequently surfaces throughout mythology in themes of self-realization or coming of age.

INT: THE BRICK. LEONARD sits at the bar, his left elbow on bar and his head propped in his left hand. With his right hand he holds a straw and plays absentmindedly with the ice in a glass of water. He looks extremely bored. SHELLEY comes up behind him. She seems excited.

SHELLEY
LEONARD! Have you heard this one? Psychopath escapes from the home for the mentally insane. He's got this hook for a hand…

(LEONARD holds his hand up and stops her.)

LEONARD
Yeah. (Reciting, tiredly) Couple is parked on Lover's Lane. They hear scratching on the roof of the car. Later on at the gas station they find a hook in the bumper.

SHELLEY (Somewhat surprised.)
Yeah! Creepoid, huh? Well, gotta go do the refill run.

(As SHELLEY leaves, ED walks up.)

ED
Leonard?

LEONARD (Looks up)
Have a seat. Would you like half a salmon melt?

ED
No, I‘m sick.

LEONARD (Slipping into Shaman mode, LEONARD looks at ED with concern.)
You don't look so good. What's wrong?

ED
Well, I had trouble sleeping last night and then I woke up with this stomachache. See, there's this guy, Peter Bogdanovich, and he used to have lunch with one of the greatest film directors of all time.

LEONARD (Sighs and resumes playing with water, dejectedly.)
Yeah, and his fried chicken turned out to be a rat.

ED
Huh?

LEONARD
That's the story, isn't it?

ED
No. Well, I mean, it's not a story story. It's about me, LEONARD.

LEONARD (Again looks alert and interested.)
Oh. Go ahead then.

ED
Okay. Well, there's this guy, Peter BOGDANOVICH, and he asked me why I wasn't making films. I told him it was because I was a Shaman.

LEONARD
Um hum.

ED
Well you know LEONARD, I'm not a Shaman. I had a calling, but I'm not doing anything about it. I just said that as an excuse for not making films. I never lied before, LEONARD. Well, about little things. But this is serious. So I just laid there all night, wondering, why did I do it?

LEONARD
Well, why did you do it?

ED
‘Cause LEONARD, I'm a fraud. Orson Welles made this film called F for Fake. And LEONARD, that's me. I say I'm a Shaman, but I don't do it. And I say I'm a filmmaker, but I don't do that. ‘Guess what I'm saying, LEONARD, is what am I doing?

LEONARD
Hmm.

(Fades out. Time passes.)

INT: THE BRICK. CHRIS STEVENS, town disk jockey, philosopher-free spirit, and resident clergy (via a divinity degree obtained by answering an ad in the back of Rolling Stone magazine), is playing pool, LEONARD walks up to CHRIS. LEONARD looks completely dejected, his shoulders down, his hands in his pockets.

LEONARD
I've failed, Chris. I can't locate the white collective unconscious.

CHRIS
I wouldn't feel too bad about that. You know, western culture hasn't really carried the baton on folklore and mythology. The rise of Christianity put the kibosh on it–– the gospel hits the number one best-seller list and everything else gets remaindered.

LEONARD
These stories are interesting in some anthropological context, I guess, but mostly they seem to apply to high school students.

CHRIS (Shooting pool.)
Hmm.

LEONARD
There's often some mishap involving a rodent, or something from the arachnid family, and the victim of this misadventure invariably reacts negatively. Goes ballistic. Freaks out, has a harry fit, culminating in either insanity or litigation.

CHRIS
Yeah, not much you can use there, huh?

LEONARD
I simply can't find any healing properties in these fables. White people don't seem concerned at all with using mythology to heal themselves. In fact, they seem intent on making each other feel worse. So, I'm abandoning the project.

CHRIS
Hey, LEONARD, I don't think you gotta do that. I mean, you know there's got to be something to be learned from this. Maybe it's just indicative of how threatened we feel in the wake of the industrial revolution?

LEONARD
How's that?

CHRIS
Well, you know it's just not the clockmaker and the clock anymore. Everything's rolled off the assembly line, you know. We… we feel rattled by the anonymity of our possessions. You know: Hey—where'd that come from? Who's this guy? Who can I trust? Mass production gave rise to Capitalism but it undermined the individual which, in turn, killed God, and we as a society have filled that vacuum with fear and paranoia.

LEONARD (Leaning forward, a mystified look on his face.)
How does the rise of Capitalism explain the one about the young woman and the Volkswagen?

CHRIS (Laughs.)
Yeah, right. The uh, drive-in movie, Spanish fly gearshift deal. I don't know.

(Walks away. LEONARD sits back in his chair, frowning. Time passes.)

INT: Cicely's THEATER. ED sits alone in the empty theater, watching Citizen Kane. It's the scene where Kane, Leland, and Bernstein churn out their first newspaper. As ED watches, LEONARD enters the theater and stands one row behind him.

(Dialog from Citizen Kane)
Three hours and fifty minutes late, but we did it. … Tired? … Tough day. … A wasted day. … Wasted?… You only made the paper over four times tonight. … I changed the front page a little, Mr. Bernstein. That's not enough. No, there's something I've got to get into this paper besides pictures and print. I've got to make The New York Enquirer as important to New York as the gas in that light. … What are you gonna do, Charlie?

LEONARD
That's the "Declaration of Principles" scene.

ED
I love it. (Smiling, his face almost shining.) Yeah, notice the way that Kane's face is in the shadow, and the other two are lit? It's foreboding. This is the scene which establishes Kane up as the tragic hero.

(LEONARD sits down in the row of seats behind ED and watches ED, carefully.)

LEONARD
How's your stomach?

ED
It's okay. Better. See how Kane smiles here? He realizes this may come back to haunt him.

(Dialog from Citizen Kane)
I will also provide… That's the second sentence you've started with "I." … People are gonna know who's responsible. They're gonna get the truth in the Enquirer, quickly and simply and entertainingly, and no special interests are going to be allowed to interfere with that truth.

LEONARD
You've seen this a number of times?

ED
Oh yeah, sure.

LEONARD
Yet, you want to see it again. Why?

ED
Well, just look at it. It's a great story. It's beautiful. Fearless. You know that quote in the beginning where Kane says, "It might be fun to run a newspaper"? I think that's the way Orson Welles approached this: "It might be fun to make a movie." He didn't know what he was doing, and yet he did something that was perfect. It makes you think about what's possible.

(Dialog from Citizen Kane)
May I have that, Charlie?… I'm gonna print it. (Calls to the printing staff.)

LEONARD (Points at screen, thoughtfully.)
Hmm. Maybe this is it…

ED
What?

LEONARD
White medicine. Movies. They say it's magic.

(Dialog from Citizen Kane)
When you're through with that, I'd like to have it back.

LEONARD
It seems to have cured you. (Watches ED carefully.)

ED
Well, my stomach feels better. But before long the movie will be over, And I still don't know what to do with my life.

(Dialog from Citizen Kane)
I'd like to keep that particular piece of paper myself. I have a hunch it might turn out to be something pretty important.

ED (Turns around to face LEONARD.)
I'm really confused, LEONARD.

Leonard's words pay homage to the soul-awakening magic of great art and cinema, locating "the white collective unconscious"—American collective myth—within our movies. Leonard's words resonate deeply and ring true, particularly as spun in the magic web of Citizen Kane and Ed's transformational journey. But beyond these fictional discoveries, is there any evidence supporting the claim that, in American culture, film serves as an effective expression of myth?

Writing in the Washington Post, Ken Ringle says, "Nowhere have we enshrined the myth more deeply than in that most American of art forms, the motion picture." Vogler adds, "Humans enhanced the myths and…explored mythic dimension through dance, music, drama, and all the other arts. With movies, we found a medium ideal to represent the fantastic world of myth. Movies embraced myth, both for story lines and for a deeper influence in structure, motifs, and style. A new and powerful link in the mythic chain was forged" (Voytilla vii). Voytilla believes that the common thread through all classic films, from comedies to tragedies to adventure films, is partly or entirely based on believable myths that cross culture, religion, and nationality, and that emphasize the relationship between ancient storytelling techniques and present-day culture (vii). Psychotherapists make the assumption that there are a great many psychological mechanisms operating within a person as they watch a film, resulting in a "complex meaning making process that occurs while watching every movie from Citizen Kane to The Waterboy" (Young). The process has historical roots, dating back to ancient Greek times where drama was used intentionally to induce an emotional and instructive catharsis. Such explanations help to explain why mythic stories so effectively bridge one generation to another.

In further examining the idea of movie as myth, it's helpful to consider how well the conventional themes and archetypes of myth hold up against some of the best films of all time, those from the American Film Institute "100 years … 100 Movies" list (Firstenberg). One of the best known mythic themes is the heroic journey, the particular work of spiritual philosopher Joseph Campbell. The heroic journey presents a deeply metaphoric situation in which the voyager-hero must venture far from home, usually descending into a dangerous territory that places him at risk for death (Voytilla vii). Only after great struggle and often great loss does the voyager undergo a profound personal transformation and return home. The heroic journey is a common recipe for many of our most well-loved and remembered films, for example, Lawrence of Arabia, The Wizard of Oz, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Schindler's List, Star Wars, and Platoon.

Epic myths are those whose story or central struggle plays out in grand scope, set against great forces or great historical change. Gone with the Wind, The Birth of a Nation, Dr. Zhivago, and Ben-Hur are notable examples of epic films. The heroic myth involves a character who is responsible for other people, who usually occupies an elevated position in society, and whose hubris ultimately brings them crashing down from their pedestal, as in Citizen Kane, The Godfather, and Mutiny on the Bounty. Another example is the monster myth, where the central character puts him or herself in danger by attempting to conquer a dangerous creature, real or imagined. Jaws, King Kong, Snow White, and Silence of the Lambs fit into this category. And let's not forget the category of myth that teaches or instructs people regarding their role in or responsibility to family and society, as demonstrated by The Graduate, Easy Rider, It's a Wonderful Life, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?, and The Grapes of Wrath. In divining the myth within the movie Vogler notes, "It takes…patience and imagination to find the [mythic metaphor] in less obvious genres, such as romance, film noir, comedy, and drama. There the trials, mentors, thresholds, and elixirs may be metaphorical, invisible, but nevertheless are a potent presence" (Voytilla x). Occasionally we're lucky enough to have a screenwriter or director tell us outright that their film was deisgned to evoke responses to mythic elements. For example, in discussing 2001: A Space Odyssey, novelist and screenwriter Arthur C. Clarke says, "We set out with the deliberate intention of creating a myth. The Odyssean parallel was clear in our minds from the very beginning, long before the title of them film was chosen…All of the mythical elements in the film—intentional and otherwise—help to explain the extraordinarily powerful responses that it has evoked from audiences and reviewers."

At all times we must remember that every movie can be interpreted in a myriad of different ways, all potentially correct. "You can never come to the end of…the metaphors that can be drawn from [films]" (Voytilla xi). As Joseph Campbell says, "The hero has a thousand faces" (xi). And as Indiana Jones says in Raiders of the Lost Ark, "It's not the years honey; it's the mileage."

Why do some films seem to touch us forever? We might suggest that a person's movie preferences have something to do with an innate urge they feel, a need to hear the right mythic stories to fill whatever gaps are inside of them, or to help them answer questions about their path in life, its directions, or its meaning. Whether a person feels an particular affinity for films involving family issues, war, personal struggle, horrifying monsters, etc., may have a lot to do with their own unanswered questions. For example, in discussing The Wizard of Oz, film critic Roger Ebert writes,

[The Wizard of Oz] somehow seems real and important in a way most movies don't. Is that because…it sounds some buried universal note, some archetype or deeply felt myth?…The elements in The Wizard of Oz…fill a void that exists inside many children…Home is everything, the center of the world. But over the rainbow…is the wide earth, fascinating and terrifying. There is a deep fundamental fear that events might…transport the child from the safety of home and strand him far away in a strange land. And what would he hope to find there? Why, new friends, to advise and protect him.

A graphic demonstration of the human importance of mythic stories can also be seen in the mental health profession, where film—a medium capable of symbolizing the full range of human behavior and emotion—is often used as a means of intervention and therapy (Young). Much as small children use toys to enact learning sequences repetitively until the lesson is internalized, perhaps we seek to watch and rewatch a certain genre of movies, working through the mythic lesson until we can hold it up, mirror-fashion, to see our own, strengthened reflection looking back.

INT: In Cicely's THEATER, ED and LEONARD continue their previous discussion as they watch Citizen Kane.

LEONARD
The path to our destination is not always a straight one, ED. We go down the wrong road, we get lost, we turn back. Maybe it doesn't matter which road we embark. Maybe what matters is that we embark.

(ED looks hard at LEONARD.)

LEONARD
Nobody in the movie ever learns what Rosebud means, do they?

ED
No.

(As the scene fades, Kane's robust, smiling face fills the screen, hanging over ED and LEONARD.)

In the NX "Rosebud" episode, the viewer is gifted with a story within a story…within a story. First is the heroic journey of young Ed Chigliak. In trying to discover his life's purpose, Ed embarks upon an mythic odyssey into his own unknown. The story climaxes when Ed—the self-doubting wannabe filmmaker—discovers and faces his weaknesses, makes a powerful moral choice, and begins to realize his dreams. Second, one of the greatest films of all time—Citizen Kane—is used as a teaching/healing myth to catalyze Ed's movement along his path. Third, these two threads are woven together seamlessly to teach us about the function of myth in society and, even more importantly, about film as a vehicle for myth. In "Rosebud," a gorgeous, careful, soul-touching synthesis of image, word, and mythic presence delivers the final message: behold, the power of film.

INT: ED'S garage apartment. ED sits at a desk, in front of a typewriter. Circus-like music plays softly in the background as ED rolls a piece of paper into the platen and begins to type slowly, hunt-and-peck style. As he hits the first page return and the carriage snaps to the left with its requisite "ding," ED sits up straighter, letting his breath out, a smile stealing across his face. ED types faster, and the music begins to pick up.

FADE IN:
EXT: MAIN STREET – DAY.
A young SHAMAN walks along the Main Street, carrying small TOTEMS and pulling a child's SLED.

(The camera pulls back, framing a now smiling ED who is typing even more quickly now, and using all of his fingers. The circus music picks up as the scene fades to black.)

Sources Cited

Citizen Kane. Dir. Orson Welles. Perf. Orson Welles. RKO Pictures,1941.

Clarke, Arthur C. "2001: A Space Odyssey." Internet Resource Archive: Meanings. 2001. <http://www.palantir.net/2001/meanings/clarke2.html>.

Ebert, Roger. "Roger Ebert's Review: The Wizard of Oz." Chicago Sun Times, Inc. The Jitterbug! A Site Dedicated to "The Wizard of Oz" and the Missing JITTERBUG Scene! 29 July 2001. Geocities.com. Nov. 16, 2002. <http://www.geocities.com/EnchantedForest/Tower/2198/review.html>.

Firstenberg, Jean Picker. "AFI's 100 Years … 100 Movies." American Film Institute. June 2002. <http://www.afi.com/tv/movies.asp>.

Jones, Cindy. "Using Movies as a Therapeutic Metaphor." Counseling Academic and Professional Honor Society International Vol. 15 No. 2. Summer, 2000. <http://www.csi-net.org/publications/news/99998500.html>.

Kael, Pauline. Reeling. Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1976.

Lindemans, Micha F. "Encyclopedia Mythica: Mythology, Folklore, and Legends." Encyclopedia Mythica. 22 Feb 2002. <http://www.pantheon.org/>.

Murphy, Bruce (Ed.) Benet's Reader's Encyclopedia. 4th ed. New York: Harper Collins, 1996.

Northern Exposure: "Rosebud." Dir. David Fresco. First broadcast 8 Nov.1993 (season five). Home video recording of television broadcast, recording date unknown.

Olson, Charles. "Orson Welles Information and Resources." Chymes.org. 3 Nov 2002. <http://www.chymes.org/hyper/welles.html>.

Raiders of the Lost Ark. Dir. Steven Spielberg. Paramount, 1981.

Ringle, Ken. "Ask Shane or the Godfather: Pre-emption is Un-American." Concord Online Monitor. 21 Nov 2002. <http://www.cmonitor.com/stories/news/recent2002/1121_preemptive_2002.shtml>.

Rosenberg, Donna. World Mythology: An Anthology of the Great Myths and Epics. 2nd ed. Lincolnwood, Illinois: NTC Publishing Group, 1994.

Voytilla, Stuart. Myth and the Movies. Studio City, California: Michael Wiese Productions, 1999.

Young, Stephen D. PSY 250: The Psychology of Film. Dept. of Psychology, Hanover College. 2001. <http://psych.hanover.edu/department/youngst/psy250.htm>.

Nominated by Sue Mach, English Department