self-esteem, it is Ruth who must consolenand reassure Nick of his worth. In thenexhausted calm which follows the climax,nNick expresses his love for the first time.nBut the audience senses that the momentnfor such declarations has passed and thatnthe relationship which might have been,ndied with the refusal of the bracelet. Theninsensitivity to a trifling metaphor, causesna defeat.nThere’s little doubt that Mamet comesnacross as a compelling mixer of modernntheatrical ingredients: he knows how tonblend dramatic experience with changingnpsychological insights—the nuances ofnboth reaUty and symbol are projected withna calm and sure hand. Throughout thenpiece, nature is both a topic of conversationnand a source of primitive imagery.nNick and Ruth speak of the regenerativenpowers which they find in contact withnnature, a faddish conversational incantationnbut it is Ruth who seeks and achievesnthe contact. Nick attempts to match hernin sighting local fauna, but fails, a symbolicnfailure for someone who lives bynthe instant truths acclaimed as wisdomnor progress. He refuses to leave thenprotection afforded by the cottage, whilenRuth takes long walks late at night innthe woods, another discrepancy betweenntwo ways of attitudinizing.niVlamet’s facility with language is impressive.nHis dialogue throughout managesnto maintain the illusion of normalnconversation while at the same timencutting beneath the surface to expose, ornat least hint at, deeper layers of meaning.nThis has a cumulative effect uponnthe audience. It stimulates and entertains,nmakes possible smooth mentalnshifts from formal realism to the worldnof Mamet’s making, from moods to statements,nfrom style to messages. In somenways his prose seems to resemble Pinter’s,nbut Mamet’s power grows organicallynfrom the context of the work rather thannas the result of intellectually charged andncarefully planted red herrings whose solenraison d’etre is to delude the audienceninto believing that they are in the pres-nContinued on page 25nScreennSimon’s Revenge andnSpielberg’s Fast-Paced BubblenThe Goodbye Girl; directed bynHerbert Ross; written by Neil Simon;nWarner Bros.nClose Encounters of the Third Kind;nwritten and directed by StevennSpielberg; Columbia Pictures.nby Eric ShapearonIf a movie carries in its credits thenparticiple “written,” it means that novelistnor playwright has contributed more to itnthan just an idea and the script. It meansnthat he/she has imbued the picture withnpractically everything—from dialogue tonmessage to the ambience which makesnthe substance of the end product, andndecides its glory or failure.nNeil Simon, as popular magazines inform,nis presently America’s best knownnand wealthiest purveyor of light comedy.nFor years, and with an unpretentiousnregularity, he has supplied Broadwayntheaters with two dimensional characters,nsituations, sentiments and one-liners thatnare supposed to express sagacity in bonnmots. As anyone else, however, he himselfnhas a third dimension: he wants tonbe recognized not only as a tremendouslynMr. Shapearo has spent his life withnmotion pictures as a fan.nChaplin’s Exitnsuccessful entertainer, but also as a subtle,nintellectually responsible artist who notnonly knows a lot about the human condition,nbut also wants to put his knowledgenat humanity’s feet as his offering ofnlove, solidarity and faith. In other words,nhe dearly wishes to illuminate his fellowman’snmisery with a refurbished hope inngoodness, decency and the warmth ofnthe heart. His ability to do this is exactlynwhat the supercilious critics deny himnand what they sneer him down for.nTo get even with them, he chooses annold weapon: he derides Manhattan theaternreformers and addlebrained avantgardists,nand throws in some gibes againstnactors as species. Had Simon, however,naimed a salvo of parody ad personam, ornsatirized social and cultural fads only,nthis would not have landed him the sortnof minor triumph he actually accomplishesnin The Goodbye Girl. Instead, henattempts to recreate on screen peoplenwho, even if they are broadly drawn innstereotypic lines, still solicit good feelingsnone from another, seek mutual respectnand shared emotions —an exceptionalnoccurrence in the filmland of the ’70s,nSomewhere in its middle, the movientranscends a comedic routine and becomesnan ardent defense of simple andnContinued on following pagenBefore this issue of Chronicles of Culture was completed, the news of CharlienChaplin’s death arrived. He was a man who understood life’s poignant simplicities.nThis, perhaps, accounts for his simplistic approach to the socio-political issues thenworld dealt with in his lifetime. He was the philosopher of the small and unattainable,nthe first poet of petty tragedies, and was never surpassed in this respect by anyone innthe history of the cinema. But his life, viewed from its endpoint today, may serve as annexample of a supreme and kindhearted irony. The man, who devoted his creativenpower to portraying the melancholy and sadness of misfortunes, died a happy man,nwith his life fulfilled in a way that few mortals have ever achieved and enjoyed. Hisnmagic had made it clear that neither social forces nor history, nor political manifestosnmake art, that art is created by a spark smoldering in a little guy of no other distinctionnthan his unique genius. An art that the rest of mankind gratefully accepts as its own.nnn31nChronicles of Culturen