Wisdom and Folly

Brief comments on film by Amy.
Some old, some new.  Domestic films and foreign too.

Blindsight:  Despite the fact that I write nearly all of the film reviews for Wisdom and Folly, Jim actually has better taste in movies than I (just don’t tell him I said so). So I don’t know why I resist watching every film he recommends. I suppose it has something to do with the fact that he always chooses movies that I know will need to be digested and pondered. Anyhow, this documentary was no exception. Not to be confused with the recent and more well-known The Blind Side, this is a film about one woman’s determination to help visually impaired children in Tibet. With the help of the first blind person to climb Mt. Everest, Sabriye Tenberken hopes to help others come to understand the capabilities of the blind. One of the things that struck me most about Tenberken, who is herself blind, is her determination to do what is best for the children in her care and not allowing others to define success for them or to exploit the kids for the good of “the cause.” A great flick, even if Jim recommended it.

Scenes from a Marriage:  Every time I sit down to watch an Ingmar Bergman film, I have to remind myself why it is I watch his films. They come in bleak, bleaker, and so bleak you might as well do yourself in rather than watch them. He is like Woody Allen on a really, really bad day without the humor. And I think that is why I like him. If you are an atheist (which Bergman was) who believes that there is no intrinsic meaning to life (which Bergman did) then life is quite a bleak affair, especially if you live in Scandinavia where the sun rarely shines and the food is really bad. (Okay, I can’t verify either of those last two facts but I am going on a hunch, alright?). Bergman is an honest filmmaker and though I don’t agree with his worldview, I appreciate his honest portrayal of his beliefs. I will give a disclaimer here. Though the movie is not graphic, it is disturbing. I couldn’t shake it for days, and Jim had to put up with one or two absurd arguments regarding our marriage before I was finally able to put it behind me. So be sure not to watch it on a cloudy day, and give your spouse fair warning.

Twilight Samurai:  It surprises me every time how much I love samurai moves. I have seen quite a few including one that was an adaptation of King Lear. Perhaps it’s something about the atmosphere being so foreign that brings the characters and their emotions into a greater clarity. Whatever the reason, I always enjoy them and Twilight Samurai is no exception. Touchingly depicting the conflict of duty to family and the honor of the clan, this is a great film that I couldn’t recommend more.

Public Enemies:  I couldn’t recommend this movie less. Are we really supposed to believe that John Dillinger wasn’t such a bad guy after all? One of the many low points for me was when Dillinger, played by Johnny Depp, refuses to take the money from a poor farmer’s pocket, assuring him that he isn’t interested in the farmer’s money, just the bank’s. Up until this point I hadn’t realized that magic fairies created the money held in bank vaults rather than the money coming from those who deposit their money there. Thanks for the clarification. Sure Johnny Depp is charming and well dressed, but that is about the only positive thing I have to say about this one.

Honorable Mentions:  Love Happens—Laundry needed to be folded and the Colts had just lost the Super Bowl, but I must say I actually liked this one. Emma—It’s Masterpiece Theater; it’s Jane Austen; it’s even available online for free. Need I say more? I actually convinced Bailey, our ten-year-old, to watch a bit of this one, and he was quoting it the next day, though he did want to know why all the people in the films I watch are British and dress funny. Perhaps a few too many period pieces of late?

As a general rule, I shy away from public events such as concerts, sports games, or any other occasion that involves a large group of people collecting in one place for the purpose of witnessing something entertaining. Doing so gives me the strange and unsettling feeling of inhabiting two worlds simultaneously. With one foot in the crowd and the other on the stage, court, or field, I am overcome with a light-headed, out-of-body sensation that I find quite disturbing.

There is one notable except to this rule and that is going to the movies. I love the entire theatrical experience and my love has only increased now that I have kids with which to enjoy the experience as well. (Sadly, Jim doesn’t share my love for movie theaters and would rather take his $7.50 and run, unless tempted by the latest M. Knight Shyamalan or Quentin Tarantino film). I like to arrive early in order to maximize my pre-show pleasure, since these trips to the theater are a rare treat. First there is the perusal of posters for upcoming shows and making mental notes for what flicks to add to my ever-growing Netflix queue. Then there is the selection of film viewing snacks, the careful flavoring of popcorn with a hot, yellow liquid we unconvincingly refer to as movie butter. And then the climax leading up to the actual reason for coming to the theater in the first place, to see a movie…the previews. Aptly named “teasers” this smorgasbord of things to come is a plan-ahead girl’s dream come true. I love to anticipate things and this string of glorified commercials is just the thing to assuage any bittersweet regret that soon the film viewing experience will be over. Now I can watch the movie knowing that there is another film coming soon that I look forward to seeing.

But lately I have found the entire experience a bit disappointing. So in the tradition of my less than traditional Top “Ten” lists, here are Four and a Half Reasons I Don’t Like Movie Theaters as Much as I Used To:

#4  The Snacks — I held my tongue when for no apparent reason, we suddenly became responsible for the “buttering” of our own popcorn but can no longer remain silent at the unjustifiably pathetic selection of candy. Anyone who has stood in line with three or more children, one of whom is allergic to peanuts, trying to get them all to agree on one treat to share, knows that the paltry array of sour gummy worms and sweet tarts just doesn’t cut it.

#3  The Previews — In a perversion of everything I hold sacred about the movie theater experience, the thing that I once most looked forward to is now the reason I prefer to arrive late—to avoid the overly long, plot-spoiling previews. Was the profession of trailer editors suddenly taken over by a group of frustrated short film directors who have decided to ruin all of our fun and create mini-films rather than brief commercials? If the film industry wants to boost their sales in these hard economic times, perhaps they should consider reversing this trend and follow Hitchcock’s rule: showing less is better. There are several Hollywood starlets who might consider taking this advice as well, but that’s another post entirely.

#2  The Theaters — When I was growing up, back when a guy played the organ as the soundtrack and “talkies” were just a gleam in the brothers Warner’s eye, movie theaters were large enough to seat an entire Tibetan village and the screens were sized to match. Nowadays, the theaters have been chopped in half, all in the name of maximizing profit (as if ticket prices and snack gouging aren’t raking in enough dough). Some of the screens aren’t much bigger than our home TV, and that’s saying something.  

#1½ — Did I mention the snacks? It bears repeating. They are really, really bad.

#1  The Films — All of the above drawbacks might be tolerable if it weren’t for the fact that most of the films in theaters aren’t worth seeing. On the rare occasion that I can convince Jim to take me to the movies, it is difficult to find something we can sit through, let alone enjoy. There have been some notable exceptions of late—Slum Dog Millionaire, Inglourious Basterds, and The Blind Side—but on the whole the pickings are slim out there. I keep holding out hope, only to be disappointed time and again.

So, with a heavy heart, I have forsaken movie theaters, that is, until the next Shyamalan film comes out…or the next Tarantino film…or anything featuring men on horseback and women wearing long dresses with empire waists…or….  Okay, I haven’t quite turned my back on movie theaters yet, but I sure am tempted!

Brief comments on film by Amy.
Some old, some new.  Domestic films and foreign too.

(500) Days of Summer:  A friend saw this movie a while back and told me she was still trying to decide whether or not she liked it. After having seen it, I know what she means. I think part of the problem is that it is too cute to be a serious drama but too dramatic to be a romantic comedy. The soundtrack is amazing, and the acting is good; there are just a few moments that take you out of the film and throw off your suspension of disbelief. Still, with all the swill coming out of Hollywood, this definitely rises to the top, however faint that praise might be.

Ghosts of Rwanda:  If you are as ignorant as I was about the horrible genocide that occurred in Rwanda in the Spring and Summer of 1994, this Frontline documentary is the film to see. I felt frustrated at times by what seemed to be the filmmaker’s desire to blame those in the West who did little or nothing to stop the violence more than those who actually committed the acts. This could very well be my Western guilt talking, and certainly more could and should have been done. The film does do a good job of praising those who bravely acted to save others.

The Brothers Bloom:  A clever wanna-be. I couldn’t decide if this film was trying to tell me something about the meaning of life or trying to tell me that there is no meaning at all. I seem to be having this experience a lot lately in film watching, and one might begin to question whether it is the movies or the viewer that is the problem. It reminds me of a remark I heard once about Angela Lansbury—when every time an old lady shows up at a dinner party someone ends up dead, you have to start wondering about the old lady and not the guests. Back to the topic at hand, The Brothers Bloom was a good ride. Just don’t stop to think about it too much; or think about it a lot harder than I did.

Honorable Mention:  Foyle’s War—I just can’t get enough of this BBC murder series set in England’s southern coast during WWII. I usually figure out whodunnit before Detective Chief Superintendent Foyle does, and then I try to recall the other BBC series in which I have seen the supporting cast members until he catches up with me.

Dishonorable Mentions:  All About Steve and Extract—What is up with movies having better soundtracks than scriptwriting? Both of these were “ugh” worthy.

Somewhere in between:  The Princess and the Frog—I took Maggie and Andrew to see this one, and they enjoyed it. Overall, it was pretty good but I was taken aback by the creepy demon henchmen of the voodoo bad guy. In the end, I would rather have saved the popcorn and candy money (not to mention the actual price of admission) and waited for The Tooth Fairy. I have a serious weakness for Dwayne Johnson.

It’s been another exciting year, and we want to thank you all for reading and, if applicable, posting comments on our blog.  Once again, we would like to close out the year with summary remarks about good and bad stuff related to film, music, books, politics, and family. 

Best Film Experiences:

• Jim:  Slumdog Millionaire, Inglourious Basterds, and The Blind Side. Three very different films with one thing in common: a compelling story.  See my March 2 post for extended comments on Slumdog, and our joint review of Inglourious Basterds in our October 29 post.  As for The Blind Side, I confess that I went to see it begrudgingly, figuring it would subject me to two hours of eye-rolling melodrama.  On the contrary, this simple but powerful film had me in tears the entire evening.  And I’m no sentimentalist…
• Amy:  Jim chose the ones you’ve heard of, so here are a few older ones you might not have seen: 1927 Academy Award winning Sunrise.  I am not a big fan of silent films but this one is amazing, a perfect movie. Another oldie but goodie is The Red Shoes.  Finally, Murder!  I am slowly working my way through all the works of Hitchcock and this was one I marked off the list this year.  It’s classic Hitchcock, which is to say, suspense with heart and soul.  Finally, this one isn’t an oldie, but since I spend a great deal of time watching children’s films I will give a shout out to my friends Charlie and Lola.

Worst Film Experiences: 

• Jim:  Little Children—Three of my pet peeves in contemporary Hollywood films are:  1) stilted dialogue, 2) gratuitous sex scenes, and 3) plotlines that encourage viewers to root for a character to commit adultery.  Well, this movie features all three of these vices.  Some thematic originality or insight into truth might have helped to redeem the film despite these flaws.  But, alas, this one was disappointing down to the last, contrived and implausible, scene.
• Amy:  The Reader, Japanese Story, and Summertime are three that standout in their badness.  There are bad movies which are flawed in one way or another (poor writing, bad acting, etc.) and then there are movies that are faulty on a deeper level; like people who are really smart that you enjoy being with as long as you don’t think about what they are actually saying.  These films would fall into the latter category.

Best Musical Experiences of the Year: 

• Jim:  Wilco (The Album).  Jeff Tweedy & Co. have been making great music since the mid-90s, and their latest effort is more of the same.  2009 is also the year that I discovered the Kings of Leon.  Thanks to Jason Fortner for his insistent introduction to the beauty of the Followill brothers’ musical world.
• Amy:  It isn’t a specific album but I loved my Christmas music this year. One of my faves included Sufjan Stevens Songs for Christmas, “What Child is This” by Andrea Bocelli, and Mary J. Blige and Emmylou Harris’ Light of the Stable.  They all strike the chords of awe, sadness, and rejoicing that I love about the season.

Favorite Songs of the Year:

• Jim:  “Breathe” by U2.  This song slaps you in the face, spins you in circles, then sits you down and caresses you into ecstasy.  What begins as an almost tuneless rapid-fire narrative resolves into one of the most melodically satisfying songs in the U2 repertoire.  Check out that entrancing combo of cello and guitar as well as the memorable lyrical images—e.g., “people born of sound” wearing songs “like a crown” and “the roar that lies on the other side of silence.”  Oh yeah.
• Amy:  See my comments above about Christmas songs.

Jim’s Favorite Sports Moment of the Year:  The season-long dominance of the Saints and Colts (two of my favorite teams), both of whom earned home field advantage throughout the NFL playoffs.  I’m not naïve enough to think both will make it to the Super Bowl (#1 seeds almost never meet in the championship).  But I’m hopeful that one of them will play on Super Sunday.

Jim’s Most Disappointing Sports Moment of the Year:  The Detroit Tigers’ squandering their division lead on the last day of regular season.  It wasn’t so much a moment as a week-long, fated collapse.  Ugh.

Amy’s Best Eating Experience of the Year:  New Orleans’ restaurant Mona Lisa’s eggplant parmesan.  Spicy marinara sauce, crispy eggplant in a creative setting with friendly folks.  And the service is great—at the Mona Lisa everyone is treated like a regular.

Amy’s Worst Eating Experience of the Year:  “Zucchini and Basil Soup.”  In an attempt to cleanse our bodies of toxins, Jim and I did a cleanse diet which excluded all cheese, eggs, wheat, soda, and basically anything you might enjoy eating.  The diet was actually not that bad, but this cold “soup” was definitely the low point.

Most and Least Satisfying Reads of the Year:

• Jim:  Antony Flew’s There is a God, in which the former atheist chronicles his journey to belief in God and masterfully summarizes the three main considerations which prompted him to embrace theism.  I’ve also greatly enjoyed the Arts and Letters Daily blog.  My least satisfying read was Kwame Appiah’s Cosmopolitanism—an attempt to salvage shared moral values while affirming cultural relativism.  I kept waiting for an argument, but it never came.  And until the very end I hoped Appiah would rescue his project from incoherence.  My hopes were never realized.
• Amy:  Elizabeth Gaskell’s Ruth, Charles Dickens’ Little Dorrit and Same Kind of Different as Me were all inspiring.  They just don’t write them like that anymore.  I didn’t like The Girls from Ames.  Also, on three separate occasions, I began reading The Shack, but I couldn’t complete it.  Bad theology and even worse writing.

Political High Point of the Year:  Our hopeful sides want to celebrate the seemingly grass roots movement afoot in our country against government expansion and irresponsibility.  But our cynical sides tell us that it’s all just more talk that will, in the end, be undermined by profiteering.

Political Low Point of the Year:  The revelation that (now former) Green Czar Van Jones was a Marxist…or perhaps the revelation that (now former) White House communications director Anita Dunn was a Marxist sympathizer.  Or (speaking of Marxism?) perhaps the real low point was the health care bill.

Most Outrageous News Events of the Year:  The balloon boy hoax (what can you expect from a couple who would name their kid “Falcon”?) and Bernie Madoff (an appropriate surname, until the Ponzi schemer artist got busted) and climategate (when scientists feel they have to fudge numbers, this should give pause to even the most dogmatic believers in their theory).  Ah, the hits just keep on coming, don’t they?

Our Kids’ Most Memorable Statements of the Year:

Bailey:  “I think cussing is just adults’ way of whining.” 

Sam:  “Dad, just try to name a breakfast cereal I don’t like.”

Maggie:  “I think the wind is God whispering ‘I love you.’”

Andrew:  “I never want to get married, ‘cuz you have to kiss someone every day.”

Most Satisfying Shared Experiences of the Year: 

• Jim:  Walking around the French Quarter together at the ETS conference in November.  Also, our August vacation in Houston with the incomparable Newcomb family. 
• Amy:  Our various bike rides together as a family; also, seeing two of our kids become communicant members of our church and sharing the communion experience with them.

New Year’s Resolutions:

• Jim:  To get to bed before midnight more than half of the time
• Amy: To put Ranch Pringles behind me once and for all

Happy 2010 everyone!  And happy new decade as well!!

Brief comments on film by Amy.
Some old, some new.  Domestic films and foreign too

Cranes Are Flying: I fear this 1957 award winner was the only movie of substance I managed to watch this month. (I’ve been too busy catching up on Castle, I’m afraid. It’s no Firefly, but this detective show will definitely do. I liken the experience to visiting your local grocery only to discover they are out of your favorite Ben and Jerry’s flavor and being “forced” to buy your second choice. It’s not New York Super Fudge Chunk but it will certainly hit the spot.) But if you are only going to watch one foreign film a month, this should definitely be one of them. Set in Moscow at the outset of World War II, Cranes are Flying is breathtaking in its simple tragedy. Weaving the story of star-crossed lovers Veronika and Boris with the national story of Russia during the war, it is poignant without being melodramatic. One can’t help but wonder if this seemingly patriotic film had a deeper message of the tragedy of life under communist rule. The final scene is a bit propagandistic but doesn’t defeat the overall beauty of this classic.

The Ugly Truth: Ugh. I am not sure I have much more to say about this film. How can a movie with Katherine Heigl, whom I appreciate for her no-holds-barred approach to comedic acting, and Gerard Butler, whom I just love to watch, be bad? Poor direction, muddled logic, and bad writing, for starters. Take my advice and go watch The Proposal again. Or better yet, go check out some classic romantic comedies made during a time when people knew how to respect both love and comedy. Here are just a few of my faves:  Pillow Talk, That Touch of Mink, and It Happened One Night.  

Whatever Works: Whatever works, it certainly isn’t Woody Allen’s latest movie. Starring Larry David, one of my all-time favorite cynical innocents, this film fails on so many levels it’s hard to know where to begin. I don’t know why I keep punishing myself by continuing to dream the impossible dream, which is that Allen will come to his aesthetic senses and start making real art again. The irony of this film is that unlike some of his more recent offerings such as Match Point and Cassandra’s Dream, it has a happy ending; and that’s the problem. There is no longer any tension in Allen’s filmmaking, no struggle to understand the meaning of it all. I guess the title sums up his shoulder-shrugging resignation to the meaninglessness of life. And I don’t think I’m just bitter over his shallow depiction of southerners and Christians (each of whom is either moronic, hypocritical, repressed, or all of the above).

Japanese Story: Perhaps I was mistaken earlier when I said I had watched only one film of substance this month. A more correct statement might be that I watched only substantive film that I liked this month. There are some movies that I dislike because they are flawed in some way that makes them ultimately self-defeating as art. In these cases, I can point to particulars that lead me to discredit, disparage or simply “dis” the movie and its makers. Others evoke such strong emotional responses that it is difficult for me to determine whether the movie is of poor quality or I just don’t like it. Japanese Story is one such film. The acting is good (it stars Toni Collette, so the quality her performance goes without saying), and the writing isn’t bad.  Nevertheless, this was not an enjoyable viewing experience. I am certainly able to appreciate movies in which the characters share a different moral perspective than I, if that perspective is truthful in its presentation. So my distaste isn’t entirely due to a conflict of worldview. Actually, the film seemed to have no moral perspective at all, and perhaps this is what bothered me. All I can say is that at the end of the movie I thought, “Well, that was a waste of time.” After all, I could have been watching Castle.

Since his landmark 1993 film Pulp Fiction, Quentin Tarantino has been rightly heralded as one of the finest film directors of our time.  The films he has made since, including Jackie Brown, Kill Bill, and Death Proof, have been consistently strong, but most critics agree that none of these efforts quite achieved the magic of his sophomore effort (Reservoir Dogs being Tarantino’s debut).  The pre-release hype for this year’s long-anticipated Inglourious Basterds intimated that it might be his best yet.  So being confirmed Tarantino fans, we were eager to check it out.  Was all the praise overblown?  Not at all.  Amy and I agree that the film is an instant classic.

Set in German-occupied France during World War II, Inglourious Basterds depicts two (wildly fictitious) plots to assassinate Hitler and his Nazi cronies.  One of these plots is executed by a ragtag vigilante team of Jewish-American soldiers.  Led by Aldo “The Apache” Raine (played by Brad Pitt), the group terrorizes Nazi soldiers by scalping all of their victims and disfiguring the few survivors.  The other plot is masterminded by one Shoshanna Dreyfus (Melanie Laurent).  Shoshanna and her boyfriend run a cinema in Paris.  When they learn that top Nazi officials, including the Fuhrer himself, plan to attend a premier at their theater, they concoct an assassination scheme that is as ironic as it is devastating.  Eventually, these two storylines converge, and the results are spellbinding.

Figuring prominently in both storylines is Nazi Colonel Hans Landa, a.k.a. “The Jew Hunter” (played by Christoph Waltz).  As the film follows him, we are equally appalled by his cool racism and charmed by his sophisticated wit.  The humanizing effect of developing his character in this way has caused some controversy, but viewers are nonetheless satisfied when he meets his fate—a sure sign that Tarantino did not make the Landa character too sympathetic.

So why do we love this film so?  Let us count the ways in tag-team fashion.

Amy: Let me begin by sharing a story that will hopefully shed light on my thoughts and feelings regarding Inglourious Basterds. When asked recently what I liked about the film, I was honesty puzzled by the question, first thinking “What do I like about it?” and then thinking “What do I like about it?”  This is like trying to analyze what you like about ice cream, capri pants, or sex.  It’s too basic to put into words, but you sure know you like it—a lot.  Of course, you can analyze, break down all the component that make it great but there is still that mysterious element when taken as a whole that sets it apart and makes it special.

Jim: Tarantino’s talent for blending and reinventing genres is well-known, but he out-does himself with Inglourious Basterds.  To tell a WWII story in the style of a spaghetti Western, seasoned with dashes of and comic superhero effects, is original enough, but to do so in such compelling fashion is what prevents the film from being a mere experiment.  In fact, the story is so gripping and, in its own way, realistic, that one actually forgets the genre twisting devices being used.  The (not very) secret of Tarantino’s success in this regard is his brilliance as a screenwriter.  He tells a story as well as anyone in film today, and his dialogue is consistently rich, enthralling, and believable.  Inglourious Basterds is Quentin Tarantino at his very best as a screenwriter.

Amy: Though there is a seemingly intangible magic to Inglourious Basterds, it is in fact the mundane in many ways that casts its spell.  I am a big believer in the idea that it is the little choices by filmmakers that make or break a film.  Details in casting, art direction and costume design all add or subtract layers in a way that either draw a viewer into the film as a participant or keep one at arm’s length all the while screaming “You are now watching a movie!”  It is the authentic feel of Tarantino’s settings, casting and costuming which, for me, give him greater freedom in storytelling; the atmosphere is so plausible that the sometimes absurd events seem completely natural.

Jim: When Tarantino is at his best, he manages to incorporate humor into serious, even dark and morbid plots.  Inglourious Basterds showcases his genius in this regard, featuring lots of amusing, memorable dialogue and scene premises, clever plays on language and cultural clichés, and even  physical comedy.  In most cases, the humor comes from the performances, especially by Pitt and Waltz, but many other subtleties and details, as noted by Amy, add to the film’s charm and comic qualities.

Amy: Of course, you can have amazing locations and clothing but without great acting it simply doesn’t work.  Fortunately, Inglourious Basterds is not lacking in outstanding performances.  I hesitate to even use the word “performance” because for the most part the actors were virtually flawless.  Rather than having the usual struggle to suspend your disbelief, you have to struggle to remember they are only acting.  I had bones to pick with Brad Pitt’s southern drawl, being from the area that his character claims to hail from, but other than that, the cast was remarkable.  (I feel I am quickly running out of positive adjectives:  tremendous, excellent, peachy keen?)  Even casting Pitt, along with a few other well-known actors who make surprise appearances, is perhaps all part of Tarantino’s master plan.  He has a habit of taking easily recognizable performers and casting them against type.

Jim: The performance by Christoph Waltz is one of the best of the decade.  He manages to be both endearing and sinister, which is a difficult line to walk.  Oh, and by the way, he very capably speaks four different languages in the film.  And his presence in every scene is commanding.  Tarantino has been quoted as saying that Waltz “gave me my movie back,” as he had essentially concluded that the part was “unplayable.”  It simply demanded too much of an actor.  Yet Waltz pulled it off and likely earned himself an Oscar in the process.

We’d like to conclude with some remarks about the profanity and violence in Inglourious Basterds.  Understandably, some viewers are bothered more by Tarantino films than by most in regards to these matters.  Part of the reason is the sheer volume of profanity in, say, Pulp Fiction, or the realism of the violence in most of his films.  Inglourious Basterds doesn’t have as much profanity as many popular contemporary films, and there is little sexual content and no nudity.  But there is plenty of violence, though not as much in terms of volume or realism as some other war films, such as Saving Private Ryan or To End All Wars.  For those who are sensitive to this, take warning.  But if your threshold of tolerance for violence is reasonably high, then prepare yourself for an aesthetic feast.

If you have read our blog much, you know that I am a film lover. As such, I have had more than one opportunity to ponder the question, When is graphic content of a film necessary for the story and when it is merely gratuitous? I must confess to have such a weakness for narrative that too often I have continued to watch despite the little “angel” sitting on my shoulder telling me certain movies have crossed the line.

When I sat down to watch The Kite Runner, a movie I hadn’t gotten around to seeing despite having heard great things, I wasn’t expecting to face such a value judgment. The story of two Afghan friends whose lives have gone in very different directions hardly seemed a likely candidate for overly explicit material. Perhaps that is why the scene which depicted the brutal assault of one friend by a gang of older boys was so jarring. While I appreciated the overall message of redemption and courage, days later it was that one scene that kept replaying in my head rather than those which helped further the film’s message.

I have seen much worse by way of abusive behavior but somehow this stuck me in a way that other more graphic scenes had not. This realization, that the entire movie was overshadowed by what was really a peripheral moment in the film, has helped to crystallize for me where I draw the line between warranted and unwarranted explicit content in a film.

A few months back, Jim and I were visiting my mom and dad and I was given the herculean task of choosing a movie we might all enjoy. I finally settled on Taken, figuring that, even if everyone didn’t love it, at least no one would hate it. For action and suspense, it was surprisingly (at least to me) good. One thing we all noted was the restraint the filmmakers showed in portraying the plight of women in the sex trade. It would have been easy to throw in some nudity and sexual content and exploit the situation the movie was trying to speak out against. The lack of graphic content didn’t take anything away from the plot and gave credibility to the filmmakers.

I realize that there can be no hard and fast rule when it comes to the subjective responses each individual has. Everyone has different limits and reactions to film and must judge what they can handle. But I do think taking into consideration how certain content enhances or takes away from the thread of a story helps at least in evaluating the intention of the filmmakers and therefore may help us in evaluating a film’s aesthetic values apart from our personal response. Some stories are so shockingly horrific that they require shockingly graphic material in order to help you understand the experience of the characters. I remember seeing an interview with one of the makers of To End All Wars, a film about the treatment of Allied POWs by the Japanese in WWII. The makers of the film were Christians and had apparently been criticized for how much violence they included in the film. What the director said in response has stuck with me and though I can’t recall his exact words it was something to the effect that they didn’t feel they could depict the courage and grace of the POWs without depicting the brutality they endured. The film was indeed violent but not in a way that screamed “Look, we are showing you violence now.” It was completely appropriate to the subject matter and rather than making you a voyeur, it gave you a greater empathy for the characters. And this should be the point of all film, transporting you into another reality, broadening your understanding of the experience of others and the truths that weave through each of our stories.

Too often I hear people completely shutting themselves off to great films because they consider them too graphic and yet they watch absolute drivel simply because it’s PG. The damage that is done to their aesthetic sense has to be at least as great as any damage they might have sustained in watching Brad Pitt’s men scalp Nazis (Yes, the Inglourious Basterds review is coming soon; have patience).

So the next time your celestial shoulder buddy pops up with a caution, listen to your aesthetic sense as well as your conscience and remember to watch with artistic as well as moral eyes wide open.

Brief comments on film by Amy.
Some old, some new.  Domestic films and foreign too.

Sunshine Cleaning — I was expecting a bit more having been a big fan of Amy Adams since the days of Junebug (though I must confess to having a special place in my heart for her in Enchanted; I even have “Happy Working Song” on my iPod). This story of two sisters starting their own biohazard removal and crime scene cleaning business is definitely entertaining, and I appreciated its strong sense of family so perhaps I shouldn’t punish it for not meeting my high expectations. It reminds me of Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day (also starring Amy Adams; maybe I am not as big a fan as I thought). It’s a good story but leaves you feeling a bit hollow. Have you ever gone on a date, and at the end of the evening you had a good time, but you are quite sure you will never call the person again? This was my evening with Sunshine Cleaning. Nice knowing you. Moving on.

The Counterfeiters — I must ask the insensitive question: Do we really need another film informing us that the holocaust was a terrible event, not a pleasant holiday from sanity? Though thoughtfully crafted and very well acted, there was some heart missing from this film that I can’t quite put my finger on. Based on true events, the movie tells the story of concentration camp prisoners who were forced to further the Nazi cause by producing counterfeit currency. The main characters fall into three basic categories: (1) the squirrelly conservative capitalists who don’t protest being forced to aid the Germans in their scheme to destroy the British and American economic systems but are outraged at the thought of working with criminals and political radicals; (2) the cynic who claims to be only out to survive but proves himself a greater humanitarian than those who look down on him (some of the Nazi officers fall into this category as well, just with a little more cynicism and a little less humanity); and of course, no film is complete without (3) the devoted communist who is willing to stand by his principles no matter what the cost. It is enough to make one wonder, if all communist are so swell, why doesn’t Marxism play out a tad better in the long run? Must be all those capitalist middle classers, darn ‘em! Despite its faults, this movie is interesting from a historical perspective and probably worth the rental.

The Long Way Round (and Down) — I never thought I would love (and I do mean love in the addicted, can’t get enough, when-are-the-kids-going-to-bed-already sense) a film about two guys riding motorcycles all over the planet. But if you like travel and/or motorcycles, you will love The Long Way Round and its sequel. Just beware of the potty mouths of Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman.

Mentions, Honorable and Otherwise:  I Love You, Man — Raunchy but somehow surprisingly wholesome in a strange, manly sort of way.  Julie and Julia — Amazing performance by Meryl Streep (which almost seems redundant), and Amy Adams is great (again). Poorly edited, in that it is too long but still a good flick. Note to the makers and editors of this film: we the public truly and thoroughly understand that you, the film making industry truly and thoroughly despise all conservatives and in particular John McCarthy. C’mon, it’s a movie about food. Do we really need to politicize it? Leave out the blacklisting business and you have a much better film. Inglourious Basterds — More to come on this one, but let me just say this: if you haven’t seen this film, stop reading and run to the theater. Now!

The DVD selection at our small local library isn’t what you’d call expansive and leans more to the popular than the classic. A few nights back, I was heading home to face a mountain of laundry screaming for my attention and decided that I was okay with popular. I had heard a great deal about Twilight, both the book and the film, and decided it couldn’t be any worse than The Princess Protection Program which I had watched early in the week with the kids. Relative to its genre, the movie was more than half bad— interesting storyline and a plot that keeps you (or at least me) hooked till the end. I did, however, feel more than slightly self-conscious when explaining to Jim what I was watching. In an attempt to keep myself from looking like a total loser who sits around folding laundry and watching teenie bopper flicks, I decided to call it “cultural observation” and make a post out of it. Therefore, you the reader can benefit from my wisdom (or suffer through my folly).

If you don’t have any teens in your life and haven’t heard of the Twilight series, the basic premise is this: Bella, a young woman who has recently moved to live with her father in Washington state, becomes intrigued by and then falls madly in love with Edward, an aloof outsider who initially repels Bella’s attempts to befriend him but continues to pop up just in time to come to her rescue. Eventually it is revealed that Edward as well as his “foster” parents and siblings are vampires. Edward desires to save Bella from the monster within him and thus tries (and fails) to prevent her from getting too close. Now I realize that this sounds like the plot of myriad love stories, and in many ways it is just a new spin on an old tale. But isn’t that what draws us to so many narratives? We identify with the thread of narrative that runs through these stories, which also often runs through our own lives.

Whenever I have a strong emotional response to a film, which was certainly true in the case of Twilight, I become very suspicious of that film. The female heart is so susceptible to manipulation, I must keep my guard up lest I find myself in the garden taking a big bite of something that Forked Tongue over there said would do me some good. There is definitely some heart string pulling in Twilight and if Maggie was old enough to watch it (or read it) I would want to have some long talks about what true love means. We see Bella wanting to give up the very essence of who she is, a human, in order to be with Edward. Certainly I have experienced to varying degrees that feminine tendency to lose perspective in my relationships, both romantic and otherwise. There is something seductive in the idea of submerging to the point of drowning. Ironically, as soon as we have finished plunging head first, we seem just as likely to deeply resent any call to submission and spend the rest of our lives trying to fight our way to the surface or get out of the pool all together.

Back to the point at hand, my head is still aswirl from trying to dissect this movie. Whatever it is selling, it has certainly inspired a great deal of head scratching on my part. Head scratching is a good thing, right? Despite our desire (or at least my annoyingly predominant desire) to categorize everything into neatly assigned species and subspecies, there is something to the postmodern idea of gray areas and ambiguity. In the end the most compelling part of the story isn’t the love story but Edward’s inner battle. Something in his struggle against his very nature resonates with my own grappling against the flesh. I have faith that in the end, the monster won’t win out and that all will be made as it should be, including my heart. But there are many days when it feels as though the beast in me has been unleashed, as Johnny Cash would say. All I can do is hold on tight and hold out for dawn. I suppose we all have hearts that are living in the twilight, waiting for the dawn.

Brief comments on film by Amy.
Some old, some new.  Domestic films and foreign too.

Gran Torino — I can’t remember the last time I saw a film I liked as much as I like Gran Torino which was surprising to me. I was pretty sure it would be well done but I had braced myself for the racially charged theme and overall dark atmosphere that often accompanies a Clint Eastwood movie. Though the film was by no means a tip-toe- through-the-tulips kind of experience, it felt a lot like life—ordinary days made up of seemingly ordinary moments punctuated by life-changing moments of drama. I must admit to having a bit of a crush on Eastwood’s character, Walt Kowalski, despite his crusty outer shell. I could even tolerate the less than heroic token Christian. If you have an above average tolerance for bad language, this is a must-see.

Henry Poole Is Here — It was a slow night at the Spiegel household and I thought I would check out this Luke Wilson flick. I really didn’t have any expectations for a dark comedy about the face of Jesus appearing on the side of a suicidal man’s house. I am not sure that the filmmakers themselves knew exactly what they wanted to convey or, if they did, they weren’t entirely successful at conveying their message. I appreciated their openness to the supernatural but hated that they couldn’t bring themselves to draw conclusions or make a more explicit statement about faith. Still, good performances and an uplifting theme make it a great slow night movie.

The Reader — Okay, I don’t care if she played a great Elinor Dashwood (Sense and Sensibilty) or not, Kate Winslet is no longer invited to my first slumber party in heaven. (This is a game I play with myself when feeling like all my heroes predate me by a couple hundred years. I imagine sitting around eating cheese puffs and drinking beer with Charlotte Bronte, Jane Austen and Elizabeth Gaskell. Sad, but true.) Jim tells me this story represents nihilism, the complete meaninglessness of human history. It was maddening because since there is no meaning, there can be no villains, no heroes, no redemption—something this movie greatly needed. Winslet is a talented actress who delivers a stellar performance (most of which she gives in some state of undress), but nothing could redeem this film’s harsh take on the choices we make.

Mentionables: Children of Heaven — I don’t know how they make films in Iran but I loved the first eighty-two minutes of this movie and hated the last minute. If only I could wave my magic movie wand and change it to suit, this would be an all-time favorite).   I Capture the Castle — Still thinking about this one but I am a sucker for period clothing and a great British Isles setting.  The Proposal — Pure fluff, but one of the funniest romantic comedies to come down the pike in quite a while.