The Beauty of the Ruins

I remember taking a German literature course in college and reading the Hildebrandslied. I actually don't remember the poem at all; all I know is that it is an incomplete, unfinished, cliff-handing fragment. Professor Harrison asked us to theorize why the author left it in this state. Did he die? Had he lost his inspiration? Perhaps, as our teacher suggested, he liked the way it looked as an incomplete masterpiece. The German Romantics of the 18th Century idealized the unfinished work. The abandoned, half-finished castle one finds in the Black Forest, slowly swallowed up by the surrounding flora.

I have fallen in love with two unfinished masterpieces in the past couple weeks: The Thief and the Cobbler by Richard Williams and Jordorowsky's Dune. The former was a 30 year animation project, best described by one of my new favorite podcasts by Studio360 producer Eric Molinsky, entitled Imaginary Worlds. This episode is aptly called "The Greatest Cartoon Almost Made." It's remarkable how close Richard Williams came to finishing this project, but once he completed the animation for Who Framed Roger Rabbit, he could not face tampering with the perfection of his baby as it appeared in his head. To elaborate further on the stultification of expectations would be to regurgitate the insights of Molinsky, which are profound and worth your time. 

The second project is a film adaptation of Frank Herbert's sprawling space epic Dune by the cult filmaker Alejandro Jordorowsky, years before Star Wars and a decade before David Lynch's flop. The story of this ill-fated movie adaptation is recounted beautifully in Frank Pavich's documentary. A disclaimer: I love the novel and therefore disapprove of the great liberties Jordorowsky took with the plot (Duke Leto is a eunuch who impregnates Lady Jessica with a drop of blood? Paul is executed and transforms into the the consciousness of the Fremen, of the planet Arrakis? Are you kidding me?) But I see that Jordorowsky had a vision for this film and a vocation to make it. This film could have been a success. It could have transformed pop culture. It could have been the religious experience Jordorowsky envisioned it would be. These possibilities raise the question: What if we lived in a universe where Dune replaces Star Wars in the public imagination? 

Like the Romantics, I love these projects just as they are, unfinished and fragmentary. Perhaps this is to my detriment. I am seduced in my empty hours by the "what-might-have-been" over the"what-is." And the "what-might-have-been" is a beguiling mistress. But I love her regardless.