The Perils of Pride: Exploring Arrogance on Screen
Okay, let's talk about arrogance. It’s a fascinating flaw, isn’t it? Not just in people we meet – though we all know those people! – but as a dramatic engine in film. We see it everywhere, from the grand pronouncements of villains to the quiet, insidious self-assurance that unravels seemingly ordinary characters. And what makes arrogance so compelling on screen is how easily it can blind someone to their own failings and ultimately lead to their downfall.
Think about Stopping the Steal. While a documentary, it’s rife with examples of individuals operating under a profound sense of entitlement – a belief that their actions were justified because they knew better, because they were important. That conviction, that unwavering certainty in their own righteousness, is a potent form of arrogance. It's not always loud or theatrical; sometimes it’s the quiet hum of self-importance that fuels disastrous decisions.
That contrasts beautifully with something like Casanova, Last Love. Casanova himself embodies a flamboyant, almost cartoonish arrogance – he believes his charm and wit are enough to conquer any obstacle. And for a long time, they are. But exile forces him to confront the hollowness of that belief system. Seeing Marianne de Charpillon, someone who understands the world with a clarity he lacks, begins to chip away at his carefully constructed facade. It’s a slow burn, but it's incredibly satisfying to watch this titan of seduction humbled by genuine connection.
Then there's The Last Supper. The disciples, each convinced of their own importance in Jesus’ mission, are ripe with subtle arrogance. They squabble over positions, interpret his words through the lens of their own ambitions, and ultimately fail to grasp the true meaning of his teachings – all because they think they already understand. It's a cautionary tale about how pride can blind you to truth.
Even something seemingly lighter like Goodbye Josh. uses arrogance as a key driver. The initial confidence and bravado of the young men quickly devolve into suspicion and betrayal, fueled by their individual egos and a refusal to admit fault. It’s a stark reminder that unchecked self-assurance can poison even the strongest bonds.
And finally, consider Music in Darkness. Bengt's bitterness after losing his sight isn’t just grief; it’s a form of arrogance – a belief that his life is somehow ruined, that he deserves better. It takes Ingrid’s unwavering kindness to help him see beyond his own self-pity and rediscover the beauty around him.
Arrogance, in all its forms, offers filmmakers (and us as viewers) a rich vein to explore. It's a universal flaw, a constant temptation, and when portrayed well on screen, it’s both captivating and deeply unsettling. What films have you seen that really captured the destructive power of arrogance? I’d love to hear about them!
