Re. "Looking back on the silver screen," (Forum, Aug. 29):
Jim Carnett's article brought up some not-so-pleasant realizations of which everyone is aware, but probably not paramount in our everyday thinking.
The subject, of course, is leaving this place forever, dying, buying the farm, cashing in your chips, or as Jim puts it, "An expiration date awaits each of us."
He uses as an illustration, the 1946 film "Gilda" with Rita Hayworth and Glenn Ford, and makes the observation — actually Jim's wife, Hedy, made the observation — that all the stars in that movie are long gone.
Jim then goes into some detail regarding the making of the picture, or for that matter any picture, with a statement that "the film is a compilation of routine workdays," meaning the actors were just doing their job.
And yes, we are all aware of what it takes to make a movie that entails such items as detailed scripts, camera people, crews for the different parts of the movie, various sets, etc. I personally, at times, have thoughts of the actors reading lines with all those other people off to the side watching them.
If one thinks about a movie in those terms, it will invariably and adversely affect how we view movies. But most of us, I think, just react to what we see on the screen and enjoy the skill by which the actors portray different people on the screen and how it makes us feel.
As far as such movies as "Gilda" with all the stars as put by Jim, "have been pushing up daisies for a very long time," it is a true, but sad, fact. I am reminded of that very thing when Ernest Borgnine left us a short time ago that he was the last of the major stars in my favorite movie, "From Here to Eternity." And even with the sad knowledge that the cast from that movie are all gone, I am still able to enjoy watching it again and again.
Aside from the fact that movie studios make movies primarily for a financial gain, it is a form of escape for the typical person, even though we know what we see up on the screen in most cases is make-believe.
Consider movies a form of reasonably priced therapy at home or in movie theaters that we require due to just being here. Jim closes out his article with, "Laughter, romance and play-acting give way to physical obliteration. Guaranteed."
OK, Jim, we get the point, and we all know exactly how it will end without being reminded of your apparent morbid views on life. And since we all are aware of our eventual final destination, why not treat ourselves to some fun, entertainment and a little diversion along the way, sans dwelling on the subject of lowering the final curtain.