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On Interpretation

The difference between creativity and criticism.

This article contains spoilers for both John Carpenter’s 1984 film The Thing and the final scene of “Made In America”, the series finale of The Sopranos.

The big mystery hanging over John Carpenter’s 1982 film The Thing is ‘who is a Thing?’. More specifically, is either MacReady (Kurt Russel) or Childs (Keith David) a Thing, or are both of them? Unfortunately, this is one of those mysteries that strikes me as definitively solved; it’s been pointed out to me (and sadly the video I saw a few years ago no longer exists) that someone being Thinged is indicated by a change in clothes (because a Thing rips them up as it assimilates someone) and that there is a long shot of the facility towards the end that shows Childs’s jacket is missing from where he hung it up. There’s also the less-convincing but extremely cool note that MacReady has very visible cold breath in the final scene whereas Childs does not – because the Thing doesn’t have cold breath, perhaps? This is, more than likely, a continuity error, but it works with this interpretation of the scene.

Now, I find this disappointing, because my preferred interpretation until I learned this information was that neither man is a Thing, and paranoia has simply reduced them to a complete inability to trust each other, and they’d be totally fine if they just worked together to survive. But I simply can’t bring myself to fly in the face of objective reality, even in the subjective context of a film. I’ve noted a few times that I’m more of an analytical fan than a creative one, and this is where I hit into genuine conflict with other people over it.

I do not see the point in flying in the face of the text, and I get extremely frustrated with people who won’t at least admit that that’s what they’re doing. The second story structure I ever learned was the scientific method – you have a hypothesis, you test it, you see the results. Often, rinse and repeat. I am not a scientist, nor do I have any desire to be one, but this is an attitude I’ve brought to many things, especially art and especially in the form of criticism.

Now, to be clear, I don’t think this makes me smarter than other people, I don’t think it makes me always right, and I definitely know it doesn’t make me immune to pseudoscience or silly beliefs. With art specifically, I fully believe that it presents subjective perspectives that inspire equally subjective responses. That said… working against the text goes against the whole fun of criticism for me. Criticism is the pursuit of truth and the most accurate explanation for what we’re looking at here.

A useful example – the one that infuriates me the most – is the ‘Tony lives vs Tony dies’ argument for the ending of The Sopranos. “Master of Sopranos” is one of the most spectacular examples of criticism I’ve ever read, elegantly laying out a precise, step-by-step explanation for why the final scene is communicating the idea that Tony is about to be murdered and doesn’t realise, with the emotional underpinning that life is short and precious (and that Tony has wasted it). This is good criticism that has heightened what was already a powerful emotional experience for me; I love rewatching the scene and soaking up the technique, feeling both dread and the pleasure that comes from losing myself in a well-constructed piece of art.

By comparison, ‘Tony lives’ arguments are not nearly as elegant or convincing; if I’m feeling mean, and I often am, they often seem to come down to “Aw, come ooooooon. It would be cool. Come oooooooon!” When I ask for an explanation for the same information “MoS” presents, I usually get deflections and rambling descriptions*. I’m genuinely not trying to tie this into either character assassination or politics – perfectly intelligent people have pitched ‘Tony lives’ to me – but it reminds me so much of woo-woo pseudoscience and mysticism.

(*”Imagine Tony living out the rest of his life like a lame dog, pathetically wandering about waiting for death to come.” I don’t have to imagine that! I’ve seen it! That’s the show! A big part of my objection is that Tony dying is so much cooler on top of being much more likely to be correct – if nothing else, it’s a novel moment that feels like a good full stop at the end of a sentence. You act evil, then you die and go to Hell.)

I think what bothers me as well is that it feels like a misuse of the creative instinct. I love this aspect of fandom – fanart, fanfic, cosplay, etc. The creation of something out of nothing is delightful and what we’re put on this planet for; even the stuff that seems vapid and stupid, like shipping, is an expression of the human instinct to create. There’s something very human to me, as well, about taking the most disposable of human detritus and making something crude and sincere out of it; I’ve spent over a decade trying to tap into this in a meaningful way.

The pursuit of creative expression is different from the pursuit of good criticism. Creativity asks ‘what if?’, and criticism asks ‘what is?’. Criticism is the sorting of facts (even if those facts are fictional); once you start ignoring those facts or, god forbid, making them up, you lose all sight of what makes criticism worthwhile and enjoyable. Not to sound like a cliche atheist, but once you start making up justifications for your take, where does it end? Saying there were faeries floating behind Tony just offscreen at all times?