Wellbeing Movies

I have in the last few months explored the philosophy of attention-training through the medium of cinema. Attention-training suggests that we can overcome anxiety, boredom, and over-thinking through a focus on the wonder of the present moment. The goal is not distraction but a maintenance of attention, not intensely, but in an open, curious, absorbing way, and on a relatively singular object – the opposite of multi-tasking. Admittedly, cinema is not the most appropriate artform to support attention-training, since movies tend to be given to linear starting and stopping (what I called in my discussion of wellbeing music ‘eventism’), and are usually highly dramatic and full of conflict – this being in the nature of storytelling. 

To encourage a mindset in alignment with attention-training, I’ve had to search for films which are not very dramatic, to avoid overstimulation or excitement, but also not too boring, to prevent distraction. At the same time, I’ve tried to find movies which are not overly theoretical or intellectual – attention-training aims to free our non-conscious thinking and feeling functions from interference by our rational ego so movies with complex political or moral subtexts, or straightforward messages are not appropriate. I’ve also tried to get around cinema’s discrete linear stop-starting by locating films without a strong plot, which encourage a less intense meandering or hypnotic quality.  Finally, attention-training rejects simplistic polarities, such as good and bad, light and dark, happy and sad, since reality is much more mixed (and these ideas are fictions of the ego anyway). So the tone of these films also needed to be not all sunshine and buttercups, yet still low-key emotional, which excluded a toneless ambiguity – a mood of light fascination was sought. 

Anyone following this blog will know of my top 5 attention-training films listed below:

1. A Canterbury Tale (1944)
2. Summertime (1955)
3. Mary Poppins (1964)
4. The Railway Children (1970)
5. E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial (1982)

These 5 meet the requirements above plus also seem to reflect the discipline of attention-training in many other ways, which I have discussed in detail in the linked articles. 

Interestingly, the process of locating these films also enhances our understanding of attention-training itself through examining additional commonalities between them:

• Going on a visit: All 5 films involve someone paying a visit (to Canterbury, Venice, the Banks family, Yorkshire, and Elliot’s family). The experience of paying a visit aligns with attention-training as visiting inevitably involves viewing the world afresh, in such a way that ordinary day-to-day occurrences become slightly more interesting – I have recently experienced this when my mother came to stay and, even though I was not the visitor, the experience of showing someone around your day-to-day life still encourages this new perspective. The process involves a humble deference, appreciation, and basic compassion toward others which aligns with attention-training. The relative briefness of a ‘visit’ can also be interpreted as a metaphor for our brief visit to life on Earth too, encouraging an appreciation for the mere experience of living. There is also the sense of mild exploration and curiosity about one’s surroundings and the people one meets. This is perhaps the true sense of the saying, ‘Travel broadens the mind’ – and through the mere altered perspective this affords, not necessarily through the acquiring of new languages, interactions with other cultures, how expensive the trip is, or whether you engage in adventure sports.
• The joy of craft: All 5 films feature prominent craft, that is, hobbyist-style or artful examination of objects: the archaelogical artefacts or trades such as that of the wheelwright, blacksmith, or musician in A Canterbury Tale; the beautiful statues and architecture of Venice, and little wind-up toys sold by street-vendors in Summertime; the chalk-painting, busking, and even the matte painting, animation, and animatronic robin in Mary Poppins; the precious period objects and frugal enjoyment of model trains and cakes in The Railway Children; and the fascination of even modern consumer toys and household appliances in E.T. Interest in and practice of craft and pastimes like these are exactly the kind of low-key activities which help with attention-training.
• Characters without a strong sense of purpose: our Canterbury travellers, Jane Hudson, the Banks and Railway children, and Elliott and his siblings – these characters do not have a strong goal or throughline in the narrative of their respective films. They aren’t exactly aimless, but they aren’t, as Mr Banks observes, “fraught with purpose and practicality”. In fact, much of the running time of these films is taken up with characters just hanging out or exploring or enjoying each other’s company. We might similarly reflect that such low-key humble enjoyment is perhaps the best recipe for happiness. This reveals that a sense of meaning is important for wellbeing but having purpose is perhaps not. This aligns with my earlier blog post about the extreme risks of having a specific goal in life, inspirational or otherwise, and of embedding your meaning there; it is as risky as living for a hypothetical future, which increases uncertainty and eclipses your contentment with the present. 

Below are some further movie discoveries which perhaps are not quite as specifically aligned with attention-training but share some attention-training elements nonetheless. 

Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971)
Willy Wonka is super-entertaining and has an unusual balance between light and dark, being a children’s film but with a dark sense of humour, even featuring elements of moral judgement but in a highly warped satirical manner. The key element which aligns with attention-training is its profound sense of wonder in the everyday, expressed most clearly through its central song “Pure Imagination” which suggests that “If you want to view paradise/ Simply look around and view it”. It also savours the everyday through the premise of a world apparently obsessed by a secretive chocolate-maker’s competition to visit his factory. A key element often overlooked is that the plot actually makes very little sense – if Wonka wanted to select a sweet-natured child to take over his factory then the golden ticket competition surely would be the worst way to go about this – yet the magic of the film works all the same (the absurdity neatly weakens the moral messaging and sense of purpose, while appropriately lightening the tone).

The Lady Vanishes (1938)
Hitchcock movies tend to be too dramatic or morbid but this early British thriller has such a playful and adventurous atmosphere, plus it is almost entirely set on a long train journey which provides a kind of hypnotic rhythm that encourages something like a state of distilled flow. 

To Have and Have Not (1944)
This is a rip-off of Casablanca (1942) but without its melodramatic doomed romance (and its accompanying histrionic orchestral score). The whole film is filled with a beyond-opposites calm even in the most dramatic World War 2 situations – through the characters’ cynical irony, stoicism, and deadpan humour, as a result it maintains a type of emotional equilibrium not dissimilar than that encouraged by attention-training. 

Arrival (2016)
An alien invasion movie that is so understated that it is more a reflection on language and its relation to our perceptions of time, which provides the link to attention-training and our experiences of reality. Dr. Louise Banks (Amy Adams) discovers how language structures time, plus learns how future goals are embedded in the present too. In fact, the alien language functions a lot like a work of art which encodes symbolic gestures of meaning (like music) but outside of linear phrasing (unlike language) – the effect is that the meaning is instantenous (“not conditioned by time”). The film also contrasts the patient present-moment response to a crisis with the histrionic, neurotic response of the overly-ruminating conceptually paranoid military mindset.

Groundhog Day (1993)
A classic of inspirational psychology movies, Phil (Bill Murray) learns to cope with the present moment by reliving the same day over and over until – surprise surprise – he learns to live in the present. Not a film presented in the understated style of attention-training practice, but one certainly with a pertinent message.

Rembrandt (1936)
An understated and reflective biopic of the Dutch artist, basically concerned with various elements of craft and art with a leisurely pace and not much of a plot, reflecting an attention-training-styled mindset. 

Rear Window (1954)
So this is another Hitchcock movie, but so unusual for its stationary single-pointed focus on staring out of a window. The dialogue amuses too as L. B. Jefferies (James Stewart) starts noticing a subtle mystery unfolding too, which we could read as a dubious metaphor for the insight gained from present-moment noticing.

2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)
Stanley Kubrick’s space epic involves an almost-dialogueless experiential space journey which aligns with attention-training’s understated focus and sense of wonder particularly in the style of the film, which is slow and static even as we are blasted beyond the infinite and into the numinous interstellar realms.

The Tree of Life (2011)
Despite being about the grief involved in losing a son in battle, this arty film reflects attention-training through its powerful photography and abstract structure which produces a present-moment experience which combines light and dark, past and present, and ineffable wonder. Its central message is in the importance of cherishing the present expressed through the wonder of childhood.

The Empire Strikes Back (1980)
Needless to say that Yoda’s philosophy and wise sayings in this film reflect elements of attention-training, but the film as a whole is also a profound work of craft with some of the most detailed and artful sets, costumes, model-work, stop-motion animation, puppetry, and visual effects – particularly if you get your hands on a de-specialised original version (that hasn’t had a lot of this craft replaced by bad CGI). I like to watch a music-only version I made which focusses more on the craft and meaning behind the story rather than the surface plot interactions and sometimes corny dialogue. 

The Band Wagon (1953)
This classic Hollywood ‘putting on a show’ musical exhibits lots of great craft of course in its music, dance, sets, and costumes. We can find a hazy connection to attention-training as the plot involves the error of aiming for high-brow alienating ‘art’ (read “concept-bound rational messaging”) over delightful entertainment (read “beyond-opposites craft”), particularly when the final winning show they perform is joyful while making no kind of coherent sense.

A Room With A View (1985)
Again, period films transform the everyday and 19th century upper-middle-class life is understated in a way that aligns with attention-training, as does this film’s storytelling style. The central love triangle plot involves our heroine choosing between a hyper-rational intellectual and an organic connection with a sincere nature- and art-loving young man inspired by love – which we could interpret as representing attention-training if he weren’t a little bit too bombastically Romantic at times.

Ryan’s Daughter (1970)
The period love-triangle in David Lean’s epic romance aligns with attention-training even more since this time our heroine’s choice is between a hyper-sexual but traumatised young soldier and a devoted, wiser, but perhaps rather dull (let’s say, more understated) but genuine older man. Lean’s at times tediously slow-paced direction does certainly pick out beautiful details of the present-moment even in such a poverty-stricken bleak Irish setting. 

Life on Earth (TV series, 1979)
Most of David Attenborough’s documentaries are wondrous experiences combining Science, biological/organic knowledge, with lots of present-moment observation of little details. I like this old, first epic series mostly because it has been restored to Blu-ray-quality footage, the science hasn’t been dumbed down for popular audiences, and for its unusually mysterious musical score which belies the cliches of the typical orchestral scores used in his later documentaries. 

The Secret Garden
This text is basically aligned with attention-training as it is about spoiled and sick children who become well through appreciating the present moment – the everyday wonders of nature on the Yorkshire moors. I find the novel a little bit too dated and tedious though. The 1993 film looks splendid but the story is cut too harshly so that much of the transformation and its meaning is edited out. My favourite is the 1975 BBC TV series – it looks terrible though (with some nasty cheap sets), so I prefer listening to the audio only for it which I have extracted and basically turned into a radio play.

In the Heat of the Night (1967)
I can’t find any real connection to attention-training except that this crime drama set in a racist Southern US town is creatively photographed by Haskell Wexler, and so patiently directed by Norman Jewison that it has a hypnotic sense of equilibrium. Another “going on a visit” movie, the friendship between Rod Steiger’s rough Southern cop and Sidney Poitier’s patient northern detective is also the quietly touching soul of a murder mystery plot with the temperament for noticing little details, even while the final denouement always seems a little confusingly executed (although I argue this just enhances the atmosphere as something to savour in itself since the plot quietly disappoints). 

The Winslow Boy (1999)
A textbook example on how to translate a play to film, and another period movie, The Winslow Boy exemplifies attention-training through its consistently understated style with observation of little visual details throughout, reflecting Edwardian sensibilities but also in its preoccupation with avoiding melodrama while it is itself a melodrama. It is essentially a court-case movie but with all the courtroom scenes removed (Rattigan performed a similar trick in The Way To The Stars, a movie about WW2 fighter pilots which doesn’t include any scenes set inside aircraft). Instead we focus on the family home and impacts on the middle-class family. Its quiet preoccupation with the present moment is also revealed through its questioning of the central plot’s pursuit of justice as righteous but perhaps ultimately costly and unnecessary.

Wallace and Gromit trilogy (1989-1995)
Claymation involves an obvious craft element and Nick Park’s original trilogy of Wallace and Gromit half-hour films A Grand Day Out, The Wrong Trousers and A Close Shave combine humour, a surprising sense of drama, and quiet originality. There is also a homely sense of modest joys – of simple word play, visual storytelling, homemade inventions, and the enjoyment of cheese and crackers, toast with jam, and reading the paper. Surprisingly, the most aligned with attention-training is actually the more humble A Grand Day Out, usually considered the more primitive prelude to the impressive plot-laden sequels, which have their moments but also generally tend more toward the distraction of entertainment (unfortunately, going too far in 2005’s less original, more cliche-ridden A Matter of Loaf and Death which I don’t recommend).