It is time, once again, for the horse to jump over a big pile of nickels. The camera is close to the ground, wide-angle lens pointed in the same direction the horse is running, focused on the pile of nickels. The sky is a rich blue, cloudless. The grass is green, with a light sheen of dew making it almost luminescent in the gentle morning sunlight. The pile of nickels is a silvery grey and dominates the picture. That’s how it is for a few seconds. Then, suddenly, from the top of the screen, the underside of a leaping horse surges into view. The dappled grey horse sails over the nickels, lands lightly on the other side, and trots offscreen to the left. Roll credits.
What can we learn from the film of the horse and the nickels? We might learn that spectacle is moving. We might learn that a horse and a pile of nickels can appear to be of nearly identical color in the right lighting, and provided that the horse is moving quickly and isn’t on screen for too long. We might learn that it is appropriate, even laudable, to dismember children. (Although to learn that last one, one would most likely need to be psychotically delusional.)
Let’s look again at that first item: Spectacle is moving. Therefore having purpose. Therefore being a force for positive change in the collective consciousness. This is all true. And there are ramifications. Oh, yes.
In a nearby convenience store, the film crew purchases snacks and beverages for the wrap party. They pay with handfuls of nickels.