The Risk of a Positive Legacy Turning Negative as Sociocultural Values Change Over Time

The recent Hollywood epic Babylon depicts the Californian movie industry at the cusp of technological disruption, as the power of sound engineering brings down the past dominance of silent movies of the past. Several protagonists, some established in the industry and others striving to find their place, see the trajectory of their lives change alongside the transformation of moviegoers' preferences. Over three hours of runtime, Babylon alludes to the ups and downs of the movie industry through individual jubilations, heartbreaks, and even suicide. 

Reviewing how the professional careers of the many protagonists collide and diverge, the audience cannot help but wonder how ephemeral the career of each actor is compared to the grand history of American cinema. It is just as one movie critic said to one of the past-the-peak actors in Babylon, ultimately the success of an actor is not down to the effort or skills of the actor, but the spirit of the times. Perhaps the actor could have tried harder to change their image, the type of roles they take up, or the human connections within the industry. But often, the effort did not matter. The industry just wanted new people.

Yet, the movie also left an encouraging note for all the struggling actors out there. As long as they were, at any point, part of any published motion picture, they will live on in human memories. Decades later, when they are dead and long forgotten, their pictures will live on as permanent legacies, for they will meet future generations whenever the posterity decides to reflect back on films of the past. Said this way, the ups and downs of an individual career do not seem to matter much. In the long history of cinema, every actor will be positively remembered for their contribution to the industry's development, no matter how small.

Or will they? Positive contributions will be remembered only if future generations see past works as, well, positive. Unfortunately, the movers and shakers of the movie industry today have little control over how audiences decades or centuries from now will interpret films made today. Perhaps, given changes in the sociocultural and ideological context over time, ideas put forward in a film today may be interpreted completely differently in the future, often not favorably. The legacy a filmmaker attempts to leave today may not translate so well in a different future society with a different value system.

Indeed, the legacy of every actor, or broadly, every artist, would be subjected to evaluation of the future. Their work might be permanent, but their infamy or prominence may not be. Many a painter of the past, from Van Gogh to Vermeer, passed away under unfortunate circumstances, destitute and alone. Yet, their works, after their death, have become acclaimed and highly valued. In contrast, many of their contemporaries, more famous and wealthy during their lifetimes, are completely forgotten by the general public and industry insiders. The same can, of course, happen with many actors and their movies.

Given this general lack of control a public person has in their posthumous assessments, it might be a blessing that their works are forgotten instead of remembered. Initially, it seems like a comforting thought for struggling actors to know that their works will live beyond them in various media platforms of the future. But if they rationally think about the risks of their work but are portrayed in a negative light after they die, would they still want their output and legacy to live beyond their lifetimes? I would reckon that many would prefer to be forgotten quickly than remembered negatively for an eternity.

Many people are motivated by a desire to leave a concrete legacy, to be remembered in the centuries ahead for the positive mark they left behind on human civilization. That desire for legacy can often be even stronger of a motivator than money or fame earned while alive. But parables of the artistic world, whether it be movies or paintings, should leave us with some doubt about what is the wisdom of a rush to be remembered. Yes, we can behave in a way that we believe to be positive for the world around us, but whether others see it the same way is a totally different matter. 

And that, perhaps, is the final message that Babylon has conveyed so vividly. When a movie producer, way past his prime, sees parodies of movies starring his long-dead buddies from decades past, he cannot help but cry. Back then, the movies were made with such sincerity, such serious effort to genuinely impress the audience, but decades later, they have become nothing but the butt of crude jokes as new technologies and techniques make them nothing more than obsolete curiosities. His sorrow, juxtaposed with the laughter of everyone else in the audience, strikes home the danger of a misinterpreted legacy.