Showing posts with label The Movie Bible. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Movie Bible. Show all posts

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Five Meditations: Vagabond (1985)


       1. A piece of life
Agnes Varda finds in film a playground of life.  She seems to have ADHD, unable to focus on anything, insisting upon total freedom of mind and thought.  But she knows what she wants to say and continually returns to the themes she is considering, making a whole.  Her narrative might be difficult to follow, but patience gives one the depth that is found in her films.

At one point a character in her film Vagabond (1985) has a near-death experience and she exclaims, “It is true!  As you are dying you see flashes of your life!”  In a sense, this is exactly what the film Vagabond is: flashes of a life in the midst of death, shown right at the beginning of the film.

It is amazing how much of a single life can be contained in just a two hour period:

Judgment and sympathy
Work and irresponsibility
Love and lust and sex and rape
Fear and comfort
Relating and separtation
Connection and misunderstanding
Pogniancy and laughter
And, of course, sorrow and regret.

In the end, it is very disappointing that all life ends in death.  An anticlimax, really.
The memories we have left in the minds of others is all that is left.

2. Double Helix
Freedom and faithfulness seem to never be found at the same place and time.
We all desire freedom:
Freedom from bosses, from lovers, from commitments, from boredom, from demands
Yet we also need security:
Houses, warmth, peace, safety, regular meals, people we trust

In order to reach a balance of freedom and security, we must have faithfulness:
The keeping of promises
Unspoken agreements
Work for each other
Unbroken trust

Those who deny this balance, who insist on either complete freedom or complete security, are both the object of envy and scorn.

3. Trust
Means being taken advantage of
Means hoping instead of requiring
Means walking away when you want to control
Means allowing another to grow at their own speed
Means relying on God, less so on others

4. Speedy Compassion
“I’m too busy to be compassionate”
Compassion requires less time than consideration
The thought to pick up socks for the needy when buying clothes
The thought to keep breakfast bars in one’s car
The thought to give away clothes instead of throwing
The thought to speak a kind word instead of harsh
The thought to step toward instead of away
The thought to smile and listen instead of turn away and ignore

But speedy compassion changes no one
It is only love in the short term
Opportunity for change only occurs in long words:
Patience
Endurance
Longsuffering
(Long in time, not letters)

Opportunity is found in creating new contexts
in which another might thrive.
Opportunity is found in seeing the positive change
  (and diminishing the enduring negatives)
Opportunity is found in the trusting, sacrificial welcome

5.  Lost Hope
There were two characters who could have changed the end of Mona, wanderer, without roof, without law.
One is the Tunisian who truly loved Mona, and gently prodded her to a secure life of work and care.  But his concern about the opinion of others was stronger than his love of this woman.  The shot of his face, deep with regret brought a tear to my eye.

The second is the arborist, the professor, who truly appreciated Mona’s company.  After spending two days with her, appreciating each other’s company, enjoying each other’s vibrancy, the professor dropped Mona off, away from her home.  She could appreciate, but she could not trust.  She also regretted her action, realizing at the end of her life, that this relationship was essential, not passing.

Without trust there is no community.  Without community, there is no life.


If you would like to find out more about Steve's community of the homeless and the mentally ill, check out Nowhere To Lay His Head, the website of Anawim located in Portland, Oregon, USA.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Redeeming Violence: Tarantino's Revenge Philosophy


Quentin Tarantino’s fantasy revenge films are all the rage.  Django Unchained just passed Inglourious Basterds in the worldwide box office, raking in more than 350 million dollars in a couple months.   Revenge seems such a basic theme, and pulp revenge films have always had a low-brow charm, but Tarantino has now brought that lower class entertainment to allocates (and controversies) by granting it a wider audience, especially among cinephiles.

The four (or five) revenge films I count as these:  Kill Bill, where The Bride takes revenge against her co-assassins for killing herself and her unborn child; Deathproof, where a group of women attack a woman-killing stunt driver; Inglourious Basterds, where Jews kill Nazis with glee, even burning Hitler in a movie theatre; and Django Unchained where a former slave kills slave-owners and traders.

Revenge seems such a basic motive and it touches many people.  Let’s use QT’s films as a way to look at this fantasy and what it promotes.  There are four basic principles of QT’s revenge fantasies:

1.       Oppressors and killers are dispatched violently
This is the basis of all revenge: Lex Talionis.  Whatever violence one does, it will be done to them.  We see this perfectly in Deathproof, where Stunt Man Mike is destroyed by a car, even as he killed women with cars.  An oppressor is seen as one with power, but uses that power to harm those with less power, and so that power is used against them.  From Disney films to art films to novels to ancient literature, this is a basic theme of humanity.  It is also the foundational principle of religion, that each person will obtain, eventually, exactly what they deserve.

2.       The oppressed take their revenge in their own hands
This is a theme that QT emphasizes.  Each group takes their own vengeance.  So it is women who kill Stunt Man Mike, Jews that kill Nazis and a black man who kills white slavers.  This is opposed to most forms of Lex Talionis, where the oppressed are powerless and they hand the power of vengeance to someone else, whether that be the police, the military, God, or Prince Charming.  As Django learns, to get justice, you have to get your hands dirty: which means, you have to kill people.

3.       Those who allow or appreciate such oppression to continue are also dispatched
In a turn we haven’t seen since ancient times, QT also kills those who support or approve of oppression. So the sister of Candee who took advantage of the slavery system is gleefully killed.  Any Nazi soldier is killed as an act of justice, no matter what their participation in violence.   It doesn’t matter what level of participation they have, any is enough to be killed as punishment.

           4.   Movie audiences are seen as equal oppressors
In a fascinating move in Inglourious Basterds,  after the Nazis gleefully applaud and cheer after their enemies are destroyed on screen,  when the Nazis receive the same fate, the American audiences are encouraged to applaud and cheer the Nazi deaths.  QT is in equal parts condemning the approval of oppression and death, even of one’s enemies.  The audience cheering his film is made out to be the equals of Nazis.  In Django Unchained, whites are separated from blacks and all the whites are killed.  Even so, QT separates the whites from blacks in his audience, dispatching all the whites.  In Deathproof,  all men who do any kind of harm to women, including humiliation, is implicated.  Nor does QT exempt himself—not only is he implicated in his own films, being male and white—but he has himself killed in Django.  Support of oppression goes to the extent of cheering and glorifying oppression.

What is the end?
What happens to these heroes, the destroyers of oppressors?  Although QT often has his heroes have an uneasy victory at the end of his films, he is fully aware of the end of his destroyers of oppression: like Christoph Waltz in Django, they are killed as killers.  Dr. Schulz receives a similar end as John Brown, one of QT’s historic heroes.  John Brown, who gathered a band of vigilantes to kill slavers throughout Kansas and was later hung as a terrorist and murderer.   This is the end of Django, the Jews in Basterds, and the women in Deathproof—some sort of death penalty.  As for the Bride in Kill Bill, even QT says that if he made a third one it would be about the children of those the Bride killed, coming back for vengeance against her.  Because in QT’s philosophy, everyone should have their day of vengeance.  The world gone blind, indeed, or, in QT’s universe, at the end of a samurai sword.

If QT were to continue this series of films, what would be the next one?  Perhaps a vengeance film against oppressive governments?  Oh, no we have V for Vendetta for that.  What about a group of vigilantes taking vengeance against the rich for their oppressions?  It seems that the new film The East will fit that bill.  

Perhaps QT should do a film about an oppressed third world country,  taking glorious vengeance against the nations that warred against it, and against the nations that financed it?  Of course, we saw that movie play out in real life on September 11, 2001.  From the point of view of Al Qeada and their people, they are freedom fighters against Israel and the “Crusading” western nations that attacked the Palestinians and who refuse to recognize their legally voted in government.   

The Kansas Massacre and the Twin Towers burning: that is what QT’s revenge philosophy looks like in real life.  

Saturday, December 1, 2012

What Controls A Person? (Memento)


80. Memento (2001)

Leonard, an amnesiac, wakes up every morning having to learn the basic focus of his life: his wife was killed and the man responsible is still at large.  Leonard must track down the man and kill him, for her sake.  As the morning wears on, he discovers the notes, tattoos and clues he has left himself to discover the attacker.

As a unit, the human race is powerful, able to change the surface of the earth.  As an individual, a human being is weak.  Yes, a single human being can be amazingly creative or destructive.   single human can change the flow of history, potentially.  But any plans a human can make can be disrupted by another person.  Each person is limited by their weakness.  And if another knows a person’s weakness, in detail, they can manipulate them to their own devises.  If a person’s weakness is lust, those who have the ability to sate that lust have complete power over them.  If a person’s weakness is fear, those who manipulate fear successfully have complete control over them.

And if Leonard's weakness is obsession, the one who feeds that obsession knowingly has complete control over him.  It is not the obsession that controls him, but the one who knows how to use the obsession to make him do as they please.

To understand and use a person’s weakness is the ability to control them.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

What is the Cost of Art? (The Red Shoes, 1948)

82. The Red Shoes (1948)  

“When we first met you asked me a question to which I gave a stupid answer: You asked me whether I wanted to live and I said ‘yes’.   Actually, I want much, much more.  I want to create, to make something big out of something little…”

Vickie doesn’t want to just live, she wants to dance remarkably, memorably.  She wants the glory of being an artist.  We might give many definitions of “art” and certainly a two year old can create art without much effort or thought.  But when we speak of capital “A” Art, art as an ideal, then it becomes difficult.  Such art is not content with imitating reality, or outlining reality—such art must be bigger than reality itself. 

Just as the ballet in the Red Shoes has color more vibrant than reality can show and express emotion more poignant than reality can express, so Art is huge, requiring a canvas so large that no one can drink it in at a single glance.  Art requires not only talent and discipline but a vision that is larger than life.

Upon such a canvas nothing less than one’s life’s blood can be spilled.  To be bigger than life, Art requires life.  No one can touch the depth of a soul without placing one’s whole soul within it.  The cost, the worth of Art cannot be measured by materials, time and effort.  For who can place a cost on one’s soul?  What is a human life worth?  Art demands life, and so it is worth life.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Is Religion Real? (Ordet, 1955)

#86-- Ordet (1955, Danish)


It certainly seems to the Borgen family that religion is dead.  Those who once believed drift away or are adamantly opposed to the faith.  Fundamentalists rise up against the community, rejecting all social standards and morals.  The only ones who truly believe are insane.  Bitter arguments rise up between true believers, causing hatred.  All because people firmly, certainly believe in God.  How can God truly be there, a loving, strong presence if there is such doubt, such hatred?

But in the final moment, when all hope is lost, something happens.  Maybe it is something that you can’t explain to others.  Maybe it is an event that someone would look at and scoff.  But you know, you believe.  Powerful, eternal love is real.  And love cares for you and your own.  This love is as real to you as the chair you sit on, the sun in the sky.   And that one experience changes everything.

Religion may or may not be real.  But that love that reaches across time and space to meet your needs—that God is real.  And no one can take him away from you.

Fun Fact: Carl Theodore Dryer directed some of the great early films, such as The Passion of Joan of Arc and Day of Wrath. Ordet is one of the most influential spiritual films of all time, movies like the meditative Silent Light imitate it. 

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Is Hollywood Hypocritical? (The Player, 1992)


#87-- The Player (1992)

I grew up in a suburb of L.A., but I have very little experience of Hollywood.  During the LA Olympics in 1984, I was on Hollywood Blvd. overnight and it was like a party all night, and dirty and the people were odd, but that’s about it. 

Robert Altman, however, should know.  He’d been involved with Hollywood from 1957, when he directed a documentary about James Dean until his death in 2006.  And in his film about Hollywood, The Player, all he can deal with is hypocrisy.  The main character, Griffin Mill, is smarmy and weak and thinks that money and script approval can buy him anything.  And by the end of the film, he is basically proven right.  People will bend over backwards to get success, no matter what the moral cost.

However, it must be said that Hollywood isn’t alone in this regard.  In every building block of society, those who get ahead are those who set aside whatever moral qualms they have in order to look out for number one.  Wall Street, politics, corporations, -- these are obvious examples.  But also hospitals, international relief organizations and churches are also filled with power plays, money moves and back room deals. 

Not everyone is like Griffin Mill.  But it only takes a small number of men like this to corrupt an organization or a society.  The problem is when a society supports and encourages such low approaches to life. 

Fun Fact: The Player is a lighthearted poking of Hollywood, and a number of Hollywood heavies agreed to make unpaid cameos, including Bruce Willis, Julia Roberts, Cher, Burt Reynolds and more than 60 others.  What I love most about the film are the many knowing hypocrisies within itself, where it speak of long tracking shots in the middle of a huge, complicated one, and about the wrong of unnecessary nudity, just before a topless woman rushes past.  I love such knowing pokes.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Is Truth Worth The Pursuit? (Brick, 2005)

#89-- Brick (2005)


There is a fundamental truth found in all noir films: The pursuit of truth hurts.

It may hurt a person physically (The Maltese Falcon), or emotionally (Notorious) or morally (Double Indemnity), but it hurts.  Hurts like hell.  No one who is serious about truth should take the search lightly.  Because it causes pain.

Brenden is concerned about his friend Emily, who has turned up missing.  Finding out the truth about Emily is a hard pursuit and it leads to thugs and drugs and broken mugs (especially Brendens’).   It’s tough.  I wonder if Brenden ever wishes he never began this search.  He is so obsessed, perhaps he never considered it.  But he should have, because finding the truth always costs more than we ever thought we’d have to pay.  Sorkin’s phrase from A Few Good Men is true of all of us: We can’t handle the truth.

Because the truth is personal.  Always.  In the end, if we find the truth, we have to take a part of ourselves, our self-respect, our false hopes, our self-deception, and we have to leave it behind.  The real truth never leaves us whole.  At the end, when the truth is exposed, we find it isn’t the world or another person that is naked, broken and shamed.  It is ourselves.

Fun Fact: Brick is Rian Johnson's first directed film; his latest is the recently-released Looper. Johnson writes his own films and takes on a different genre with each film.  Brick is neo-noir, The Brothers Bloom is a con film, and Looper is a sci-fi time travel movie. All are awesome. 

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Does Journalism Create News? (Ace in the Hole, 1951)


#92-- Ace In the Hole (1951)

Chuck Tatum is a New York reporter, stuck in New Mexico, and he’s desperate.   He’s looking for an opportunity to get back on top, to achieve his ambitions of being a top journalist again.  When he hears about a miner trapped in a cave, he knows he has his opportunity.  If the story can last long enough, he can break it as a national story, get exclusive rights and force his way back to a job in New York.

It seems that every job is at least partly built upon ambition and competition.   The form of capitalism that is ruling the world is that of competition, where one must lose for another to win.  Where the creativity required of making a mountain out of a molehill is essential for any kind of professional success.   Even occupations for the public service, such as journalism, social work or teaching ultimately becomes about personal ambition and clawing to the top. 

The problem with including ambition in public service, is that the goals of the worker are that which encourages personal promotion, not the benefit of the public.  Chuck got his story, but only at the cost of individuals, not only exploiting a tragedy, but creating one.  When personal benefit and promotion comes first, the innocent, the hard working, and the simply talented get left behind.  Only if everyone is ambitious does this system even pretend to work.  But this system also discourages people from simply having integrity, from trusting, from supporting others without getting anything back.   One achieves success like this only by leaving destruction in his wake. 

If journalism is a public service, it can only remain so without ratings, without competition, without fighting for position.  In a competition climate, journalism must create stories, must make more of events than they really are.  They must create contexts of fear, of tragedy, of horror.

Fun Fact: Billy Wilder, the director of Ace in the Hole, made many classic films over the years, including Sunset Boulevard, Double Indemnity, The Apartment and Some Like It Hot.  Ace in the Hole was his first big failure, both financially and critically.  He was born in Austria-Hungary. 

What is the Best Response To Oppression? (Spirit of the Beehive, 1973)


#93-- The Spirit of the Beehive (1973)

The Spirit of the Beehive is about a family paralyzed by an oppressive regime.   They lay, lifeless, like Ana, when she pretends to be dead, causing her sister torment.  There seems to only be two options when surrounded by an omnipotent evil: pretend to be dead, never moving, or rage against the evil, fight on every side, only to be captured and destroyed, like the naïve monster in Frankenstein.

Ana recognizes that she has this choice.  She may only be a child, but the choice is given to each individual.  She chooses to feed a rebel soldier, to keep him alive and hidden from those who rule over them.  This turns out badly for everyone.   But the lesson of Frankenstein is: of course it will turn out badly.  Fighting, even in small ways, against a great bear only leads to destruction. But must not the bear who crushes and destroys be fought, even if it means our own demise?  In the end, will it not bring freedom to everyone?

Isn’t martyrdom preferable to quiet suffering?  And can’t even a child do her small part, accept her own martyrdom, for the sake of the greater good?

Fun Fact: Spirit of the Beehive was made in the last years of Franco's fascist Spain, using Spanish actors. sites and resources to make this anti-Franco film.  It is symbolic to deceive the Spanish censors.  One of the scenes was copied in Pan's Labyrinth, which takes place during Franco's Spanish Civil War. 

How Can Corruption Be Defeated? (Chinatown, 1974)


#94-- Chinatown (1974)

Jake is a private investigator, of the old school variety.  He takes cases from suspicious dames, gets beat up on a regular basis, and speaks in staccato.  It was an everyday case to follow a husband to see if he is cheating on his wife, but it turns into something much deeper, much darker and more sinister.

Often truth is something we simply don’t want to know.  We always think we want to know the reality, the real motivations behind things, the facts of the matter, but often the only thing truth can do for us is depress us.  Jake found out not only about the corruption of innocent women, but about how Los Angeles became a power, created by evil men.

Jake would love to right this injustice, to repair the wrongs, to defeat evil.  But it is too complicated, too insidious.  Were he to defeat evil, the good would be harmed.  The corruption is too deep, too many people involved, and nothing can be done about it.  This is the state of Los Angeles, the United States, the whole world.  All anyone can do is throw up one’s hands and say, “Forget it, Jake.  It’s Chinatown.” 

This sounds like a cop-out.  Perhaps in some way it is.  But it is also a recognition of reality.  The only way to weed out the evil is to take the good with it.  Is that really justice?

How is Prejudice Overcome? (District 9, 2009)


#92-- District 9 (2009)

Wickus has been appointed an important task, which he is thrilled to fulfill.  It means a promotion and higher esteem in the government in which he works.  He and his team must serve eviction notices to the “prawns” who live in the alien—as in aliens from space— refugee camp.  They have been living a sickening, poor existence outside of Johannesburg, and it is time they moved on. 

In the midst of this increasingly complicated task, Wickus is infected with an alien chemical, which makes him terribly sick.  Bit by bit, he was turning into an alien.  He hoped his company would deliver him from his terrible fate of turning into one of these monsterous prawns, but they only used him as an experiment.

The only way to truly overcome oppression is to make the oppressors become that which they despise.  Only the deepest empathy overcomes our instinct to protect “our own” from that which fear.  Wickus only learned to appreciate the prawns after he became one and he lived among them.  Only then could he understand their motivation and their hopes.  

Monday, September 24, 2012

Touching Film: A Review and Meditation of I Am Love (2009)


There are some films that are so sensual that you can touch them.  

Please don’t misunderstand me.  For so many people in our pornography culture, “sensual” means sexual or nakedness.  But the meaning of “sensual” is “of the senses,” and it has the deeper meaning of stirring emotion, especially longing for an ethereal experience that is accomplished through the senses. 

Movies are a sensual medium, in general.  We see and hear and (if we watch with a fantastic sound system) feel the movie in the air.  In the best films, we experience new things, live the lives of others whom we had never met before the beginning of the film.  We see and hear through them, and so obtain a sense of their thought.

But a few films are so sensual, that I can almost use senses that aren’t actually available in a common film.  I can feel the cloth, taste the prawn, caress the face, smell the forest, move my fingertips over the roughness of the bark of the tree.  But more importantly, I can capture the very essence of a character’s emotions in my soul.

I would put I Am Love in that category of film.  It is a short list, frankly:   In the Mood for Love, about the unfulfilled longing for another.   The Double Life of Veronique, about the ethereal versus the corporal life.  The New World, about choosing one’s love or the one who loves you.  Babette’s Feast, about an aesthetic community that experiences the joy of earth.   There are, perhaps, a few others.  Three Colors: BlueThe Tree of Life.

But like I Am Love, they are lush, focusing on close cinematography, drawing on nature and food in a way that stirs both the senses and the soul.  These are films that expand our experience of reality, even as the finest sensual experiences do—that communicate not only the flesh, but the spirit behind the flesh.  
5/5

Meditation on the Film: What is love?
Love has many faces.  Somehow we know, at its core, it is singular, but it is displayed as many fractured, contradictory personalities.  Love is about the benefit of the other, but also desire for the self.  Love is adoration, but also a mirror displaying the harsh reality.  Love is granting freedom and stirring deep violation.  Love is in the touch, the taste, the sight, the sigh, but love is also the longing, the mourning, the restlessness, the isolation.   Wrap all this together and we have still only stirred the bare surface of the depths of love.  Love is life, and is as complex as life.

Love in the flesh is a glorious thing.  Love is longing, but not knowing for what.  It is the glance that opens one’s eyes, widens the pupils and the object of love is then written in one’s soul.  We are created for this love, for this awakening and rebirth of our very selves, for this unification with the other so the one who we used to be is but a memory, a wisp of the past.  Once we have become a new creation, we build.  We create foundations, give birth, form partnerships, instill values, restore the ancient that has never been seen on earth before.  From love are traditions formed, legacies initiated, knowledge discovered and cities built. 

Creation is not love’s only legacy, however.  All that is built can also be forsaken, rejected, destroyed.  Love is a god that requires sacrifice.  Upon the altar, at one time or another, we must place our marriage, our work, our children, our livelihood, our passions, our hopes, our very souls and the souls of those whom we most deeply care for.  Love is filled with bitter tears, deep resentment and furious anger.  It is the passion that demands us and tears lives into shreds.  Love gives and love shreds, blessed be the name of love.

Yet there is another love.  A love that is not strictly human love, for human love must protect itself and its creation within a bubble of security of its own making.  There is a spiritual love, which calls to the humans, which can be glimpsed, and then it shyly withdraws.   It is the love that always gives, always forgives, always provides, always sustains, always restores, always gives life.  Love that embraces the rejected, heals the broken, rebuilds the destroyed and welcomes the outcast.  Paradoxically, this love requires nothing from the other, yet calls all to sacrifice all for the other.   And the greatest desire of this love is a people that surrenders all desires for the sake of the need.   This love is the ultimate gift without sacrifice and the ultimate sacrifice that demands all.

And this is the love that will change the world.

Monday, September 17, 2012

Can Anyone Be a Part of Family? (Lilo & Stitch, 2002)


      #99--  Lilo & Stitch (2002)     

Lilo is, to say the least, a difficult child.  When she first speaks in the film, we find out that she is late to her class because she had to feed Pudge, a fish in the ocean, peanut butter sandwiches and she had to find peanut butter because all they had was tuna and you COULDN’T feed Pudge tuna because that would be cannibalism.  Her logic is impeccable.  It just isn’t shared by anyone else in existence.  Yeah, that’s difficult.

But her difficulty is nothing compared to Stitch, a genetically manipulated creature, formed to destroy whole civilizations by a mad scientist… excuse me… an evil genius.  Stich can escape from any prison, create mayhem and destroy whole cities, but he is stuck on Hawaii because the one thing he can’t abide is water. 

Stitch's part in The Lion King
was left on the cutting room floor.
The question of the movie is can these two social outcast become a part of a family?  The oft-repeated line of the film is “Oahu means family.  In family no one gets left behind or forgotten.”  That’s fine, but can these two be a part of any family?  They think so differently.  They don’t fit any societal norms, and in fact, they rebel against many of them.  Heck, Stitch eats societal norms for breakfast, and downs a city for a midmorning snack!

The wonderful answer of this film is that they cannot be a part of an average family.  But they can be family together.  The outcasts CAN be a part of a family—a family of outcasts.  The final act of the film is the creation of a family of the most awkward band of misfits ever imagined in a single unit. 

I love the basic truth of this film: you cannot take misfits and change them completely to be a part of a standard family.  Instead, you must change the image of family to include misfits.  If you can have a functional family which includes severe dysfunction, then you can have a family of the homeless, a family of the mentally ill, a family of the traumatized, a family of the social awkward, a family of those in rehab.  Because the conformity of the family matters little.  What really matters is that no one gets left behind.  Or forgotten.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Review and Meditation on Dancer in the Dark


Acting is a brutal art.  To accomplish a real act of drama, not just a light and frothy musical scene, but deep sorrow and regret, requires something from one’s soul that must be torn out.   Bjork, the star of the 2000 film, Dancer in the Dark, said that the role of acting in this film was so emotionally wrenching that she would never act again.  She also may have given a hint that the director of extreme film, Lars Von Trier, could be the cause of this.  She had nothing good to say about him after the filming, calling him “sexist.”  Is it because he was demanding sacrifice more than she could give for the film?  Certainly he is more demanding of his female characters than his male ones. 

Sacrifice is never pretty.  Some demand our sacrifice, some compel us to sacrifice ourselves for them.  Most people don’t want anyone else to sacrifice for themselves.  They can take care of themselves, take care of their own.  Certainly Selma, the focus of the film, wanted no help.  Yes, she had a genetic disease, a sight disorder that had just about made her blind.  Her son has the same disorder.  But she has a plan.  She will work hard and save the money necessary in order to get her son an operation so he can see, and end the curse on her family.   It turns out that the cost was going to be much higher than she expected.

Selma loves musicals.  Although her life is focused on her son, her one real joy is music and dance.   Her friend, Jeff, wonders why she would love musicals so much.  “I don’t suddenly break into song and dance.”  “No,” Selma replies, “no, you wouldn’t.”   

But Selma does, in her mind.  She can hear the rhythms of everyday life, the beats of the factory, the pounding of a train, the sketching of an artist and turns them into songs.  She is the star of her own musical.  But like the film, the songs aren’t rushed, nor do they have a tight melody.  They linger in emotion, momentarily hesitating and then rushing past the natural beats.   They dance around, perhaps even fight against the very rhythm that is their source and pulse.  

So this film, with its documentary cinematography, musical sensibility but ultimately brutal nature is almost unnatural, fighting against the limits of our mind and demanding that we, too, sacrifice ourselves.  It is no-holds-barred cinema.  Not for the squeamish or overwrought.  But it’s hyper-drama may be what some need to retain hope.  Yes, hope.

*  *  *
Spoilers below

Like the train, though, the songs move forward, as does the film, pushing along.  As Selma’s eyesight fades, so the film becomes emotionally dark and Selma’s path toward her goal becomes more difficult, even brutal.   Despite the darkness that she can no longer ignore or hide, she is determined to reach her goal, no matter what it costs, no matter what she must sacrifice.

In the end, Selma is the scapegoat, the sacrificial lamb, the one whose life must be laid down for the sins of others.  She is the innocent one, the pure unblemished offering.  Through her is healing, through her is mercy, through her the guilt is washed away.

Watch her.  See how she is kindly brutalized, but she responds to all with gracious kindness and acts of mercy.  See how she is there to bring life and to heal life, to give precious gifts through her own veins.  Look at the glorious victim, one moment unable to stand, and the next joyfully accepting her fate!  Glory to the precious redeemer, tied to the beams and hung for our errors, the innocent for the guilty.  All we like sheep have gone astray, we have turned everyone to his own way, but the Lord hath laid on her the iniquity of us all. 

This is the greatest, truest passion of them all.

But this is not the last song.  Death is not the finale.  They do not know, but the last song is still to be sung.  For this is not the end.  Because she willingly poured herself out to death, and she was numbered with the transgressors,  she will be allotted with the great, she will prosper and will be highly exalted.

This is the state of the poor.  Selma works and does all she can, but nothing comes of it.  Because of her kind nature, and due to her human weakness, more is demanded of her than she can give.  She gives all, but it is not enough, there is always someone… more than someone… who demands more than she can give.  It is the way of the world.  Those who are kind and have little, more is demanded of them.  More than they can give.  Eventually, broken and bruised, brutalized and beaten, they surrender all for the sake of those they love.

But this is not the end of the story.  There is still hope, there is still a future.  While the poor do not see justice in their lives, it exists in the future.  They will be praised for their sacrifice.  The slaves, the falsely accused, the abused, the oppressed, the outcast—they will have their day.   This is not the last song.  We can just hear glimpses of the melody.  We know the last song is coming.  We just need to wait.

This last song is not for the pillars of society, the powerful, the respected, the comfortable.  They have had their chance, their song.  Those who see the penultimate song and call it the finale.  If they partake in the last song at all, it will be in a supporting role, for finally the weak who supported these pillars on their backs will have their due.

“It will be a day like this one when the sky falls down and the hungry and poor and the wounded are found.” -Switchfoot

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Kanal: Entering the Sewer

The Movie Bible: The Bible is a collection of ancient stories, all themed around humanity’s relationship with God and about how God wants us to live.   What would the Bible look like today if movies were collected around such themes?  I will discuss such movies, giving non-spoiler plots, discussing themes in the film and then drawing a conclusion.




This is easily among the top 5 darkest movies I have seen.

Right from the beginning, they warn you.  The narrator introduces a few of the characters and the company of resistance fighters in general.  Then he states in an even tone of voice, "Watch them carefully.  These the last few hours that they will remain alive."  And you might think that knowing they will die prepares you for the grueling trauma that is ahead.  It doesn't.

About two thirds of the film there is a reference to Dante's Inferno.  The comparison is apt.  Despite the horrors of war, and the realization that they have failed in their attempt to defeat the invaders who conquered their home, the true horror only begins once they have entered the kanal-- the sewers.  One would not be surprised to see at the entrance, "Abandon all hope all ye who enter here."

Everyone brings into the sewer their own weakness, their own humanness, their own crutches.  For one, he is filled with despair due to his inability to save his men.  Another has his fear.  Another is drunk.  Another is blinded by love.  Another is wounded in the chest.  Another is loyal to a fault.  Another is caught up in the comforts of high culture.  And so on.  And these crutches or weaknesses intensifies in the sewer, just as in the deepest of crises, our faults are magnified and our humanness becomes ever more human.

In the sewer the stench, the dampness, the darkness, the madness of others, the sickness-- not only does it make us physically sick, but it enters our mind.  The refuse of a populace invades our soul and soon the darkness doesn't surround us, it comes from within.  The sewer isn't just beneath our feet, but it could be in the midst of our lives.  For it is the circumstance that is beyond our strength.  Truly hell on earth.

Not everyone builds character in trial.  Suffering doesn't always display strength.  There is a trial that displays our hope, that causes our true, strong self to shine.  Until the suffering goes on too long, or cuts too deep, or twists in just the right way.  And then our strength is gone and all we have left is our weakness, our fear, our despair, our madness.

In the end, it is not our enemies that destroy us, but our lack.

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Weakness and Natural Consequence: Throne of Blood


The Movie Bible: The Bible is a collection of ancient stories, all themed around humanity’s relationship with God and about how God wants us to live.   What would the Bible look like today if movies were collected around such themes?  I will discuss such movies, giving non-spoiler plots, discussing themes in the film and then drawing a conclusion.

After a miraculous victory, a general heads to his warlord’s castle, only to be waylaid by a witch who declares a dark prophecy:  At first he and his friend would both receive generous promotions.  And then he would take his lord’s place, and his friend’s son would eventually take his place.  After the first part of the prophecy came true, the general tried to forget the second, evil prophecy, but he could not.  His wife constantly reminds him of the prophecy, fanning his ambition into action.  He murders his lord and takes his place as warlord.  Eventually his ambition and selfish pride gets the best of him and all his plans sour, forcing the whole kingdom to be turned upside down in war and death.

If you are familiar with Shakespeare at all, you recognize Macbeth, one of his most famous plays.  For me, Akira Kurosawa is the king of Shakespeare adaptations.  He keeps the story, but translates them fully into feudal Japan.  One of the most problematic parts of enjoying Shakespeare is the poetry, where I feel I have to do literary analysis on every single line.  With Kurosawa’s Throne of Blood or Ran (his adaptation of King Lear),  you can appreciate the melodrama without the poetry.  It allows the actors more freedom to act without monologues and gives so much freedom for the director. There is so much to appreciate in Shakespearean plots and so much darkness to delve into.

Honestly, though, I have never appreciated Macbeth.  It is too dark, too fully immersed into the growing evil of the central character.  There is certainly a character arc—going the wrong way.  I am more and more uncomfortable as the story goes on.

In Throne of Blood, there is much more to appreciate than just the character.  Right from the beginning, the male chorus with the foggy castle in the distance gives one of the ominous, horror-filled bookends ever.  Mifune, one of the greatest actors of Japanese cinema gives an over-the-top performance, as he is horrified with the circumstances and with himself.

There are many defenders of the original play and story.  “It is a classic story of fate dealing with a man and his wife who made evil decisions.  In their hearts they were ambitious and prideful, and fate led them to a nasty end.  You reap what you sow.  When you give into depravity, you must face the  consequences.”

Okay, I understand this, somewhat.  Certainly it shows the consequence of vanity, arrogance and selfish ambition.  But Mifune’s Macbeth doesn’t begin ambitious.  He was on his way to receive a great reward for a great work.  He had achieved his ambition.  And right in that time, the seed was planted which was to become his downfall.  It did not need to happen, it was not natural to him.  And, in fact, he wouldn’t have even pursued the prophecy were it not for his evil wife (who is played with amazing subtlety in Throne of Blood by Isuzu Yamada—perhaps my favorite performance in 1957).  Even with her pushing, he might not have done the murder if the lord did not come to visit his castle.   He was pushed and pushed until the evil deed had almost accomplished itself, he was just the hand that held the blade.

He was not evil, just weak.  And from this point on, he is treated as the evil criminal he certainly was, but not in his heart.  As time passed, his heart soon caught up with his deed and he became the selfish lord that the witch, the wife and fate determined him to be.  What a horrible fate! 

All the more horrible, as I know many like him.  Weak, trapped and ultimately committing crimes and so convincing himself that they are among the great evil men.  And who could deny this?  No one. 

My only question in all this is: Where is the hope of redemption?  The weak one should have an out, an opportunity for repentance, for confession, for deliverance from his own heart.   But in Kurosawa’s film, as in Shakespeare, there is no hope for redemption.  The path of weakness leads straight to hell.  There is no turning back

And ultimately, this is why I must reject this film, this story.   As the ancient text says, “I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked.  Rather, turn back, turn back!  Why then will you die?”  

Or, the more modern text says, “Are you not entertained?”  No.  No, I am not.  If life is like this, it is too horrible to contemplate, even were it true.

Sunday, July 1, 2012

The Grey: A Lesson In Survival


The Movie Bible: The Bible is a collection of ancient stories, all themed around humanity’s relationship with God and about how God wants us to live.   What would the Bible look like today if movies were collected around such themes?  I will discuss such movies, giving non-spoiler plots, discussing themes in the film and then drawing a conclusion.


Talk about a bad day.  Liam Neeson is filled with remorse about his life, so he gets a job in the Alaskan wilderness with a whole lot of other ne’er-do-wells.  Feeling trapped and of no use to anyone, he seriously considers suicide, to the point of putting a gun in his mouth (which looks silly, no fashion sense at all).  Coming just off of that brink, he and some of his co-workers were taking a break and heading toward Anchorage.  And then the plane crashes, with only seven survivors.  Thankfully, they have Liam Neeson there to help them survive, to focus on food and warmth and a plan to get out.  And then the wolves attack.

It would be a mistake to see this film as strictly an action film.  It has a number of tense scenes (so much so that my wife laughed at me as I am jumping and whimpering in front of my laptop) and great action moments.  But if you were to see the film as action, then you would end up being disappointed.  Because in the end, this film isn’t about the intensity, but it is a parable about survival—about how we approach life in general.

We are all in the wilderness  working together to survive.  But wolves—crises, traumas and illnesses—attack us, threaten us and try to kill us.  We are all doing our best to survive, in whatever way we know how.  Some of us are better at surviving than others, perhaps because they know that life is about survival and so they have focused just on surviving.  These survivors might help us live as well, but most of us do not focus on surviving.  Some of us survive as long as we do because of the help of others.  Some of us survive because of dumb luck.  And some of us die because of that same luck. 

Some of us have faith in a higher power to save us.  Some believe that from the sky, someone will hear our cry and deliver us from our traumas and crises.  Those that do might lash out in anger because they feel that they shouldn’t have to face a crisis that is more than they can handle.  Others of faith are more accepting of their fate, welcoming crises when they happen.  Some even welcome death, recognizing that the beauty of life is more than enough to make up for one’s inevitable death.  In a sense, these people are strong because they accept death on their own terms, and so they live life on their own terms.

Most of us, though, are about survival.  Keeping alive and thriving as best we can.  We struggle, we persevere, and sometimes we make mistakes.  Our own bodily or mental weaknesses make it difficult to survive, but still we strive.  Sometimes we succeed.  Sometimes we don’t.  Sometimes we fight against our wolves, and sometimes we have no fight left to give.  [Spoiler alert—But in the end, it doesn’t matter.  None of us survive.  We all die.  Whether we die with grace, die fighting, die to stupid bad luck, die to personal weakness—in the end we are all dead.  Does it really matter how we live if we all end up the same?]

Of course it does.  Our lives are all we have,  it is our story and our story is, in the end, all we have to give to those who live after us.   Our lives matter not only for our own survival, but the survival of those around us.  And how we live makes the difference between living a good life and a poor one.

The problem with the existential parable of The Grey is that the point of view doesn’t connect to the majority of the movie-watching public.  Most of us don’t see ourselves as survivors, barely alive with wolves attacking us.  The majority of us are thrivers, propped up by a society that has more than ample resources.  The majority of the movie-watching public whine when crises come, wondering “why me” instead of accepting it as a part of life.

To find survivors, one would have to go to the homeless, the desperately poor in other nations.  They understand this film and can see themselves as one of the characters in the parable.  This parable would make sense to (and enflame the emotions of) most people in the ancient world.  But today, the existential point doesn’t make sense to most of us.  We are just disappointed that the film isn’t more of an action thriller.

But the film’s point about life is a good one.  If we don’t see the wolves as a natural part of life, we will just be taken by surprise when they do come.  And, unprepared, we will fail ourselves and those around us.   Life is about living, and living is often about survival.  We cannot survive alone, we cannot survive without hope, we cannot survive without meaning.  What can we do to help ourselves and others survive?

Movie Bible Extra:  
Be a star like Liam Neeson!  Choose mediocre or almost bad films to be a part in, that way you are always the best thing in the film.  Voila!  Instant superstar!