This is a note to self, a journal of sorts. You might find it relevant too…
If you’ve had access to a TV (or any screen really) in the last decade, then chances are you’ve seen at least one Hollywood movie with a zero-to-hero or grass-to-grace sentiment, where a protagonist starts from the bottom and rises to the top in the face of great adversity. I’m not a betting man, but if you’re reading this, I’m willing to bet that you’ve seen more than a handful of this type of movie.
This phenomenon is popular in movies that revolve around competitive activities like sports, music, fighting, dancing, take your pick. You’ll see it in boxing movies like Rocky and Creed, you’ll see it in fighting movies like literally all the Karate Kid movies ever made and a plethora of Kung Fu movies, you’ll see it in dance movies like Step Up, and it’s an essential ingredient in action blockbusters like Captain America and Antman. Even animated action movies like The Incredibles and Kung Fu Panda aren’t exempt.
These movies span many genres and appeal to different audiences, but there’s one thing they all have in common. Typically midway through the movie, you’ll find a collection of scenes that flick through your screen in rapid motion, accompanied by some sentimental (and often inspiring) music, with the sole purpose of showing the protagonist’s progression as they start from a place of ineptitude and gradually get better and better at the activity at hand, until one day they’re an expert and they’re ready to take on the world (or the antagonist or anti-hero). This collection of scenes is called the montage sequence, and it usually lasts no more than a few minutes. Montage sequences are so commonplace in today’s entertainment offerings that there are now numerous articles online devoted to them.
I was reminded of this phenomenon while watching an episode of This Is Us, a series I’ve recently gotten into based on my wife’s recommendation. We’ve been making our way through the episodes together and each one just makes me marvel at how beautifully written it is, how compelling the storyline is, and how well-rounded and three-dimensional the characters are. I can’t recommend it enough (and no, no one has paid or compelled me to say nice things about it). To get to the point, there’s an episode where one of the characters, Randall goes through a mid-life crisis and decides to not only learn to write a song and play the piano, but to also perform the song at his daughter’s Career Day on a whim. Needless to say, it doesn’t end well and it ends up being a cringe-fest. After he crashes back down to earth and sees the folly in his ways, there’s a scene where he opens up to his long-lost father, saying something along the lines of “I skipped the montage”. Randall, who was a gifted child, now a very successful man in his 30s, and has excelled at everything he’s ever set his mind to, admits that it was overly optimistic of him to think he could put on a decent performance having practised so little.
This got me thinking, perhaps we’re all a bit guilty of skipping the montage, and perhaps we have the preponderance of montage sequences in our primetime entertainment to blame for this idea that we can get really good at something with little or no practice. Perhaps we’ve lost sight of the idea that it takes time, effort and dedication to acquire and hone a skill, be it storytelling, singing, painting, training for a marathon, or learning to play the guitar. We see our favourite actors on screen going from novice to expert in no more than a few minutes, and it creates expectations in us where we too believe we can go from having never played the guitar one day to performing like Jimi Hendrix the next day. Only, the real world isn’t like the movies, and life isn’t a series of montage sequences. We try our hands at our chosen activity, realise that it’s much harder than Hollywood would have us believe, and inevitably give up before properly getting started. This is a shame.
This is all to say that the preponderance of montage sequences in our primetime entertainment hasn’t done any favours for the process of learning, practising, or honing a new skill or activity. We have to approach our artistic pursuits with realistic expectations. We have to recognise that we might struggle for a time, but if we stick with the process and put in the effort, in time we just might emerge on the other side victorious like the protagonist in the montage. The operative words here are “process”, “effort” and “time”. It is the process, effort, and time that turn the novice protagonist into the expert who’s ready to take on the world. There’s just no shortcut, so if I may leave you with one thought this week, I’d say, don't be like Randall, don’t skip the montage.
PS: Just a reminder that my latest record, One More Time is out now, everywhere. You can listen to it on several platforms. Please share it with a friend, share it with your social networks, and consider subscribing to the newsletter (below), my YouTube channel, or wherever else you listen to music.