I actually find following the "rules" of a good fantasy film not much different from following the clues and red herrings of a good mystery (Noel, haven't you written a mystery musical?). My favourite part of the Sherlock Holmes stories are always when the client comes in and tell his/her bizarre story. There is good confusion and there is bad confusion. Not having all the answers and understanding all things immediately is not necessarily bad.
Lovely snow. Just out my window there's a guy walking down the middle of the street because the sidewalks haven't been plowed yet.
I think explanations in mysteries are completely different than explanations in sci-fi or fantasy. Mysteries involve the intellect and are fun to follow.
Also, some wonderful fantasy films are wonderful, in part, because they keep the explanation of "rules" down to the minimum.
The Wizard of Oz is a great example. Dorothy is told she must go to the Emerald City, and a quick string of eighth notes tell her how. Then there's that annoying heel-clicking explanation at the end, but it's pretty quick.
ET, as far as I recall, did very little explanation.
My mystery musical,
Murder at the Savoy, or, Pulley of the Yard contains no clues whatsoever. It's a parody of mysteries, and so everything in it is funny. Think
Real Inspector Hound if you have trouble picturing this.
But some of my other shows have explanations of "rules" so you can say my distaste for such things were learned the hard way. The first show of mine to get produced (many years ago, in England) was based on
The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. I wrote it when I was 16 and I didn't know better. Another show written for a family audience,
Popsicle Palace (now called
Not a Lion) had an old otter give the history of the land of Figment. I told the book writer I thought children would not sit still for such a long scene of explanation. He refused to trim it.
When the show was running in Glendale, selling out every week, I had to return to New York. But my collaborator continued to attend, to listen to the audience. Eventually, he told me: "Oh, I should have listened to you about trimming that explanation scene - it's the weakest part of the show."
For my science fiction spoof,
Area 51 - The Musical, I got my collaborator to understand: He made the explanation stuff extremely funny. "The tapioca machine's gone kerflooey. Run for your lives!"
Does anyone love the Mr. Lundie scene in
Brigadoon?
De gustibus was exactly the right thing to say: it's often translated as "There's no accounting for taste."
And now you've got me singing the Howard Dietz translation of Fledermus:
I believe in the French expression, chaçon a son gout
It is more than a mere obsession, chaçon a son gout