Tag Archives: movies
Favorite Movies List
As you may know, movies are a major hobby of mine. I am happy to post my adjusted list for the beginning of 2013. Without further ado:
1. The Tree of Life (2011). Directed by Terrance Malick, this spiritually-themed drama follows the memories of a man spanning his childhood and adolescence. The film creates a canvas for discussion on good and evil, family, authority, spirit, human nature, and the nature of God. The artistry in capturing the moments, emotions and environment are stunning. Well acted and emoted by the cast, many scenes and dialogue are both memorable and inspiring, and I could watch it again and again with unceasing wonder.
2. Les Miserables (2012). The famed musical, directed by Tom Hooper, based on the book by Victor Hugo tells the narrative of a captive-set-free Jean Valjean and his conviction to use his gracious redemption for good. The film brings much thought to the nature of justice, freedom, power, the human condition of misery, human dignity, purpose of life, and the nature of God. The 2012 production has a remarkable visual aesthetic, not only replicating much of the original stage design, but impressively adds dimensions of close-ups and long shots. The cast delivers a solid performance, one could desire a more vocally experienced actor or two, but the strength of the ensemble lies in their exemplary conveyance of emotion and story.
3. Titanic (1997). Directed by James Cameron, this historical reenactment of the sinking of the “unsinkable” ship in 1912. The film is a strong and convicting display of the effects of human pride, specifically as it relates to power, wealth, and social hierarchy. The tale is archetypal in showing the vice of pride in humanity. Agreed, the acting left much to be desired. Still, the design and visuals are nothing less than stunning, and amidst the turmoil help to convey the tragedy of the event. Great soundtrack too.
4. Lars and the Real Girl (2007). Directed by Craig Gillespie, the quirky comedy shadows a reclusive man who struggles to relate to others. I found the movie tremendously convicting regarding an open-mindedness towards others, and a tangible example of what community and loving others looks like in real life. The story is quite original and excellently performed by Ryan Gosling and ensemble. It is serious enough to be sincerely inspiring but lighthearted enough to make it fun to watch.
5. The Thin Red Line (1999). A truly remarkable drama directed by Terrance Malick about the nature of war. The film goes beyond a typical war movie, because it opens up a discussion on the many facets of war, including identifying good and evil, heroic character, value of human life, human relationship and community, and life or death decision-making. Again, amazing visual representations of the surroundings and the action. Acting is superb, memorable dialogue, and overall beautiful work.
6. Forrest Gump (1994). Directed by Robert Zemeckis, the drama tells a life-long narrative of a man who lacks intellect but displays a sincere heart of innocence and good will. Forrest Gump is a great look at life’s unfairness, and honorable ways to deal with injustice both large and small. The film also looks at the values of sincerity and simplicity in light of a deceitful and complicated world. Well acted; amusing use of history throughout the story leaves each chapter easy to remember and relate.
7. A Serious Man (2009). Another drama (I know), directed by Joel and Ethan Coen that follows a man’s religious and midlife crisis in a small Jewish-American community. The movie is a wonderful representation of human questioning, specifically in regards to God’s relationship with man, the meaning of life, truth, consequence, and justice. Many critics have speculated a relationship to the story of Job, though I see many diversions from the traditional narrative. Solid acting with great timing and delivery, especially by main character Michael Stuhlbarg.
8. Out of Africa (1985). Directed by Sydney Pollack, the film is a story based on the memoir of Karen von Blixen-Fineck and her time in colonial Kenya. The movie takes a great look at the idea of ownership, and consequently stewardship, relationships and sacrifice. Meryl Streep performs flawlessly, supported by a great ensemble. The visuals of Africa are amazing. One of the most inspiring true stories I’ve seen.
9. Jurassic Park (1993). A break from dramas! Still rather dramatic, the movie, directed by Steven Spielberg, is a story about man bringing dinosaurs back from extinction in the hopes of creating a novel theme park. The film opens conversation about the nature of evolution, survival, power, and scientific ethics (dare I say, morality). This movie has some of the funniest lines of any action movie ever. The acting by the entire ensemble is solid. Visual effects reached breakthrough achievements, and an iconic score.
10. Into the Wild (2007). Directed by Sean Penn, the movie follows a young man’s pursuit of absolute freedom and his venture into the wilderness of Alaska. This is the best look at the human need for relationship I have ever seen. It was both inspiring and convicting. There is a great observation about the ultimate tension between freedom and happiness. The acting is good, endearing, but my socks were still on my feet. The film visually captures amazing looks at the American landscape from the lowest plains to the tallest mountains. Overall a very moving story.
That’s my list! Top 10 out of 1,252 to date.
Cloud Atlas
The Wachowski siblings return in 2012, giving audiences Cloud Atlas, an epic drama running two hours and 44 minutes to absorb and discuss. The film stars a small cast of familiar faces, Tom Hanks and Halle Barry for two of them, who are recast as multiple characters throughout the six simultaneous vignettes of philosophical storytelling. Though using the same cast and similar themes, each of the stories do not have many direct connections to each other aside from the broad cause and effect of world history. As expected, the Wachowski duo circles themes of cultural oppression, rise to power, truth and freedom.
These are themes explored previously by the siblings’ previous Matrix Trilogy and V for Vendetta. Perhaps this is why the vocalization of the philosophies becomes belabored by mid-story. The film also lacks the amount of high-voltage action of its predecessors, which on the other hand, does good to keep viewers in their seats waiting for something that never happens. The climax, to the film’s detriment, is a philosophical one, with each primary character reaching their destination of enlightenment.
Before going deeper into the themes at play in Cloud Atlas, I do want to acknowledge some amazing technical achievements. The score by Tom Tykwer, Johnny Klimek and Reinhold Heil deserves accolades. The music is nothing short of beautiful from beginning to end. The photography direction by Frank Griebe and John Toll provides audiences with breathtaking scenery and majestic architecture in each of the six settings visited. Though the choice to mask the cast in cross-racial roles through makeup was a controversy and major weakness, the application was quite good in most instances. The most controversial was also the most noticeably unnatural: masking faces of “white” actors as Korean characters. This was a failure mostly because effort was not made to change the face below the eyes, and Asian eyes, no matter how good, do not match Anglo noses, cheeks and jaws. All controversy aside, the film was technically at the top of its game.
The six stories are as follows. First, there is a ship traveling across the Pacific to complete a slave purchase in 1849. Here the buyer’s lawyer and son-in-law falls prey to a deceptive doctor, an elitist group of privileged passengers, and an unlikely friend in the slave he is transporting. Second, there is a homosexual, destitute man in 1936 England who seeks to change his fate by apprenticing a master music composer, hoping one day to earn his own fame and begin a new and better life. His thoughts are often narrated through letters to his male lover, a student at Cambridge with much more privilege than he. Third, there is a female magazine reporter in 1973 San Francisco who happens upon a story of murder and corruption on the part of an energy corporation, putting her in mortal danger. Fourth, there is a book publisher in 2012 London who is forced to ask his brother for financial assistance and instead gets tricked by said brother into signing himself in to a nursing home–which as it turns out is better suited to be a high security prison for the elderly. Fifth, in 2144 “Neo Seoul,” Korea, amongst the futuristic and highly-sensationalized culture we find a group of women grown in a lab by a massive fast-food entity. These women have only fate and purpose which is to satisfy the consumers of the fast-food stores. Lastly, sixth, in a post-apocalyptic Hawaii there is a primitive tribe, highly attuned to religious forces and constantly under threat of attack by nearby barbarians. A fellow human arrives from space with unimaginable technology and needs a local tribesman’s help to locate a communications satellite to send for help.
Each story deals very naturally against the culturally oppressive forces of its time, exposing oppression’s many forms and our humanity’s tendency for those who find power to exploit it. As expected, there is a very heavy argument in favor of revolutionary spirit. Yet unlike previous films of this nature, there is little discussion of justice involved, as government oppression is not seen nearly as greatly as cultural practice or corporate greed. The focus is much more heavily centered on a societal change of its paradigm of equality, and how societal norms can form seen and unseen bondage for those outside their margins. To take it further, the last story even hints at our ability to hold our own selves captive by shame, cheered on by the devil himself.
These events also bring to light many ideas about the nature of humankind. Oppression and freedom are at the same time inherent to our characters. However, in Cloud Atlas, the characters are very clearly designated as oppressor or freedom-fighter. Is this always the case? Can you always see the “good guys” and the “bad guys” so clearly? Furthermore, are we even our own persons? Cloud Atlas challenges the Western Enlightenment notion of “being your own person,” creating one’s own destiny or living in moral isolation from other individuals. There is a sense of humanity being all connected and the decisions of one ripple through our fabric to the rest of space and time. From here, Cloud Atlas departs to more metaphysical postulations about the fabric of our bodies, and even our very souls being simply recycled through time – though only fragments of memories may ascend to our consciousness. Therefore the phrase “our lives are not our own” does not only refer to the consequences of our actions, but is literally referring to a shared fabric of the universe. Yet despite all the commotion about being tied to a destiny even across multiple lives, the actors in Cloud Atlas illustrate our ability to make new choices, face new struggles and build new character for each life in which we supposedly reappear.
Because of the inherent nature of oppression, there will always be a never-ending struggle by humanity to find freedom and equality for all its members. My first reaction to hearing this familiar cry of the revolutionary is to roll my eyes at its grandiosity. But I live with much privilege; and on top of that I have been given a worldview of grace for all. So for me, it is difficult to imagine the hopelessness of suffering to the marginalized or enslaved, those living without a sense of grace. But though my answer to tyranny may be to spread hope rather than lead a rebellion, I am grateful to be reminded of the many forms in which we set up these boundaries of exclusivity. I am reminded of my calling to cross these boundaries wherever possible to show that God’s love is for all and not just for some. But not just for the future, how can I show that love here and now?
There are indeed various ways the heroes of Cloud Atlas practice breaking free from their corresponding captivity. Some characters simply refuse participation, others must literally break free; some are more cunning, others confront directly, and others still use simple acts of kindness. Everyone can find their own part in disrupting the systems that enslave us. This brings to light that equality does not only entail the benefits of freedom for all, but the burden of responsibility as well.
I must say that I found it incredibly distracting and often fatiguing to see the same actors playing so many characters and wondering if there is a greater connection than is shown. Other than the vague reference to a Brahman-based existence, these characters have very little to do with their counterparts in history. So when I see Tom Hanks’s distorted fat face in 1849, it has nothing (directly) to do with the Tom Hanks I see in 1973 with retro hair and eyeglasses. This may be part of the point of understanding the Brahman philosophy, but to an audience it weakens the ability to buy in to the reality of the character. For instance, I know that Hanks doesn’t look like the fat-faced and crooked-toothed Englishman we see on the merchant ship– and I’m reminded that by the other scenes in this very movie—so the reality of the story is ruined. The performance, then, becomes a farce, and hard to regard as the serious statement it is simultaneously trying to be. I believe this was a mistake for the directors, though others may disagree. And yes, the philosophical statements made by the settings, plot lines, dialogue and narration are so vividly prominent it becomes a bit overkill for my preference.
In all, Cloud Atlas is worth seeing. The beautiful art direction and music are worth the price of admission; the philosophy is a bit “more than I bargained for”. And though the tainted reality will at times test one’s patience, there are enough good scenes and genre swapping to keep watching.
The Tree of Life
How do I begin to describe a movie like the Tree of Life? This awesome and breathtaking work is not a story; it is an observation, a thought, or a reflection of life in all its parts. A man’s search for meaning, an undeniable spiritual interaction, we watch Jack discovering life and wrestling with its design. At each moment we can look into our own selves and hear the questions being asked, and feel the wonder and spite he feels toward his world. We cannot merely watch to know what happens next, but experience each moment shown, with either wonder or tears.
The screen opens with a quotation from Job attributed to God as he responds to Job’s demand for an answer to suffering: “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?…When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?” In this verse God reminds us of His greatness, that simply to be in his presence is glorious enough to find peace. The verse may seem a non sequitur for those not familiar with the story, but it follows that the characters refer repeatedly to the presence, love, and glory of God shining all around us, through all of His creation. There is a sense that nature being selfish, we blind ourselves to these things and become lonely, callous and unhappy. However, when Jack reflects on his childhood in search of answers, he sees God ever present and ever calling him near.
Mrs. O’Brien is heard opening the narration with a comparison between the way of grace and the way of nature. This is a big theme. She describes, “Grace does not seek to please itself, it accepts being slighted, forgotten, or disliked.” By contrast, nature “only seeks to please itself…have its own way. It finds reasons to be unhappy when all the world is shining around it, and love is smiling through all things.” When I look at myself, I see more times I am consumed by the description of nature than that of grace. Fortunately for me, this is the same struggle we see Jack grow with through his coming-of-age years. And to make ideas plain, Jack’s parents represent these two forces, the mother choosing to walk in grace and his father with nature. Both parents deeply love their children, though walking these different paths affects their relationships with their sons (in differing ways).
Immediately after the prologue, Mrs. O’Brien is heard (assumedly) praying “I will be true to you; whatever comes.” We see her delivered a letter informing her that her second son, R.L., has died at nineteen years. We see the grief overcome her, and then overcome her husband when he receives the news. We see the eldest brother, Jack, grieving in his middle age over the loss of his brother so many years prior. Mrs. O’Brien calls out to God, “Why?” in several forms. But instead of an answer, we see an extended depiction of the creation of the heavens and the Earth—faithful to the verse from Job. Jack is fascinated with his mother’s faith, and reflects in wonder about his mother’s strength through the grieving process; he asks “how did she bear it?” Desert scenes imply he feels his own faith is dried up, that his relationship with God minimal and distant. He remembers times not dry, but surrounded by water and lush landscape. In an effort to find the answer to his mother’s peace, he begins his recounting of his childhood in order to find what he had lost.
We hear Jack ask in prayer, “You spoke to me through her, you spoke to me from the sky, before I knew I loved you, believed in you. When did you first touch my heart?” As if to answer, we see his parents, young and in love, even before his conception. The idea brings to mind Psalm 139, “For you formed my inward parts, you wove me in my mother’s womb,” a reference of God’s intimate and ever presence in Jack’s life. As he continues to grow we see him never without a light shining, day or night. In reference to the passing of R.L., Mr. O’Brien comments “He’s in God’s hands now,” to which Mrs. O’Brien responds “He was in God’s hands the whole time, wasn’t he?” These moments display the primary nature of our grief, it being not as much a question of God being or seeing, but “how could He let this happen?” We question His purpose, goodness, and involvement when tragedy strikes. Malick presents a clear picture of the separation between our understanding and God’s action. Mrs. O’Brien’s mother comforts her over the loss of her child, “Life goes on. People pass along. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, and, well that’s just how He is. He sends flies to wounds that should be healed.” Above all, the memories Jack contemplates explore the questions arising from this conflict.
The representations of the two paths (grace and nature) quickly become evident in the two chapters dedicated to time spent with the mother and time spent with the father. Jack is thrown into a struggle between the pleasurable love he receives from his mom, and the impressive strength he sees in his father. His father spends his time lecturing Jack, teaching him to fight, and enlisting him for yard work. Jack’s mother spends time telling stories, appreciating nature, and raising his social conscience. Though not enjoyable, his father’s will and self-reliance show a seductive power. At the same time, Jack rivals his father. He detests him for his weaknesses, and hopes to prove his father undeserving of Mrs. O’Brien’s love. Jack becomes jealous of this love. Mrs. O’Brien isn’t perfect either. She also struggles with her worldview when Jack confronts her saying, “What do you know, you let him run all over you.” We see her face the difficult reality of living a life of grace, that it is perpetually and intentionally vulnerable, unappreciated, taken advantage of, and overrun by the powerful. Jack is pulled in these two directions, seeking the fulfillment of each but frustrated with the process of both. He later reflects, “Mother, father; always you wrestle inside me. Always you will.”
In his youth, Jack desires to see the world through God’s eyes. When faced with his own weaknesses, however, his shame retreats to a system of earning and deserving, rather than one of unconditional love. His shame after intruding on his neighbor’s house and personal affects, a product of lustful curiosity, draws tears in Jack’s eyes after returning home. His mother attempts to comfort Jack, who responds, “I can’t talk to you,” and after a moment, “Don’t look at me.” How relevant to our shame’s effect on our relationship with God. These two responses are almost parallel to the story of Adam and Eve’s broken relationship with God. The philosophy of relying on earning one’s way to love reflects in Mr. O’Brien’s own struggle with his worldview. Reflecting on his life after losing his job, we hear “I wanted to be loved because I was great…I’m a foolish man.”
Jack’s brother R.L. is also a major source of grace for Jack. There is an affinity between R.L. and Mrs. O’Brien that pushes Jack to feel more aligned with his father, and it causes major tension and discontent. However, grace does something amazing in that it forgives, accepts and welcomes. Though Jack experiences moments of envy or wrath, he shares a deep connection that draws him back into relationship with R.L. Though Jack exhibits a tendency to show off, argue and fool others, R.L. offers him companionship, loyalty and trust. R.L. doesn’t embarrass Jack in front of his friends, even when they do foolish things. He runs alongside Jack despite Jack trying to pick an argument about being scared. He defends Jack against the interrogation of their father at the dinner table, immediately suffering the consequences. He sticks his finger in a lamp socket, and later in front of a bb gun (the latter does not prove harmless). Jack can see the naiveté of R.L.’s innocence, and yet is split between wishing for it and profiting from it. He whispers to himself “I wish I could go back to where they are,” and later “What I want to do I can’t do. I do what I hate.” For many, this is a relatable realization of the loss of one’s innocence. For fewer, this brings to mind Romans 7:15, “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.” The insertion of scripture not only reiterates themes of Christian faith throughout the movie, it also redeems this moment as necessary for Jack’s (and everyone’s) search for and relationship with God. I completely relate to the relationship developed between the two brothers. Furthermore, I relate to the striking choice between protecting myself from harm and being vulnerable and open to others. I am increasingly encouraged to err on the side of naïve risk, when the opportunity is to love, accept and forgive. Mrs. O’Brien, too, encourages her sons, “Help each other. Love everyone; every leaf, every ray of light. Forgive.” Jack’s final reflections on his childhood pair with a final echo of his mother’s wisdom: “The only way to be happy is to love. Unless you love, your life will flash by.”
Immediately upon hearing this closing wisdom my mind rewinds back to an early conversation between Jack and his father. As they walk down the street, Mr. O’Brien comments, “Don’t do it like I did, promise me that. I dreamed of being a great musician. I let myself get side-tracked. You’re looking for something to happen, that was it. A lie, you lived it.” This advice does more than once again point out the obvious difference of approaches; it shows the emptiness that can form when we place ourselves at the center of our world. Mr. O’Brien is actually describing the same truth, the same advice, but from someone seeing it from the other side (the side that has seen life flash by). For all the anger young Jack expresses toward his father, Mr. O’Brien spends an immense amount of time playing with and investing in his children. For all the sternness and pride put out by Mr. O’Brien, he clearly loves his children more than they know. It is easy to look at this proud, hot-headed, self-willed man and judge him as a jerk, and terrible father, the reason we all need therapy. At times, though, I have asked myself if we don’t do the same thing with God. We don’t always understand why God doesn’t accept our excuses, or why He makes our life inconvenient or uncomfortable, or why He lets us doubt his love. Why isn’t He always shouting our praises so we can hear them? Now, I think Mr. O’Brien is far from a true representation of God, but I can also observe a disconnection between Jack’s feelings of frustration and the true heart of his father. Mr. O’Brien is truly wired as a counterpart to his wife, but together they form a union with a shared heart for achieving fulfillment and raising a good family.
After Jack completes his reflections of his early life, exploring his growing understanding and dissatisfaction with God, we find him back in the bustling city still trying to rediscover the faith he admired in his mother, the faith that he believes sustains her through the grief of her son. Throughout the film are sprinkled shots of Creation seen through Jack’s eyes (literally corresponding to his growing eye-level). Although seemingly meaningless, these provide a sense of connection with God through Creation. Later in his life, a metaphorical barrier has been placed between Jack and the glory of God, a glory that shines through all of His creation. Each shot of a tree, grass, sky, is trapped by concrete, steel and glass. Man has overshadowed God; we have compartmentalized Him and His glory. We have contained it in a way that it is manageable for us. Jack’s house is bare and vacuous. His faucet’s soft stream contrasts from the raging waterfall seen earlier in the prologue. His wife brings in a single branch into the house, the full extent of Creation allowed in their space. There is no question that Jack himself feels trapped and dry. He dreams of the rivers and trees he knew as a child. His mother often would bask in the wonder of nature and the preciousness of others. His father also confesses, “Look at the glory around us; trees, birds. I lived in shame. I dishonored it all, and didn’t notice the glory.” There must be something to this observation by Malick. He shows a God that shines through to us through everything that He has made, and yet one that we have put behind glass and inside pots.
Jack’s final vision is one of restoration. This extended sequence of visual cues begins with Jack seeing himself through a doorway as his childhood self, before losing his connection to God. He steps through the door. We see images clearly representing a transition, though in many forms: the earth being consumed by fire, a bride asleep and then awakened, several ladders, a light being passed from candle to candle, and others. Then we appear in a new place, a beach wet with tide, far from the arid desert we came from. And not alone, there are many others, a community growing in size with every shot. Here Jack finds his family as he remembers them. His veil has been lifted, the old have become young again, the separated have been joined, and in seeing R.L. among them, the dead have been returned to life. The scene progresses to Jack standing by his mother as she practices letting go of her son—the part of her life she has been holding to the tightest. Now being completely empty handed, she receive God’s freedom and peace. This (admittedly very long) scene both represents a vision of the restoration that faith hopes for in its devotion to God, and a discovery of peace for Jack that he can take back with him into the present. When we see Jack returned to his “real life,” we see the beginnings of a smile representing the healing he finds, and a renewed relationship with his faith. Looking out, we now see a beautiful sky—one that is not diminished by man’s building, but reflected in it. I see in this a discovery that we need not only see humanity at odds with God. Despite our brokenness, humanity can still be used to see God more clearly in our world, not hidden by it.
The Tree of Life is an exploration of faith through a journey of personal reflection. Admirably, one that allows tough questions to be asked acknowledging the absence of clear answers. The film shows the great magnitude of the God that faith requires, and recognizes the tremendous difficulty in living out such a faith. It is a film that can only hope for restoration, that must work to see “love shining through all things,” when brokenness and pain is all we see. It relates to our selfish hearts that also yearn to do good, our desire for innocence, our shame, our searching for meaning in hard circumstances. What earns my utmost applause is the resolution to keep going. Keep asking questions, keep praying for answers, and keep working at seeing this glory that supposedly surrounds us. We can keep on loving when we feel foolish, keep trusting when we are hurt, keep pushing forward though we don’t yet fully believe, and maybe never will. Faith is far from being about blindly believing an unbelievable truth. Faith is the not-giving-up in the search for truth, trusting that somewhere it is there, waiting to be found. Only in upholding our pursuit of God, demonstrated by the O’Briens, do we have the opportunity to experience all He has to offer for our lives.
Quick Review – Movies I didn’t write about
Hey blog readers! Here’s a lightning round of movies that I had the pleasure or displeasure of watching recently for which I couldn’t quite muster up a full review. Hope you enjoy!
Life in a Day (2011) – a documentary composition of homemade videos all filmed on a single day around the world and posted to YouTube for this project. I would recommend, some good editing to bring out themes or contrasts between ideas of love, fear, and life. 4/5 stars, 7/10 rating.
The Adventures of Tintin (2011) – animated film about a famous investigative reporter caught up in a scandal of treasure and revenge. I would recommend this for younger audiences, I was disappointed that it was more of a pirate/treasure movie and less of a detective story. Themes weren’t that great. 3/5 stars, 5/10 rating.
Prometheus (2012) – group of scientists travel to faraway planet in search of the origins of mankind. I wish I took more notes while this was still fresh in my mind. Very interesting themes of faith and man’s search for meaning. Also very graphic scenes of gore and a c-section, so not for everyone. I would recommend. 4/5 stars, 8/10 rating.
Spartacus (1960) – slave during the time of the Roman Empire escapes from gladiator school to lead a rebel army in an attempt to escape to freedom in another land. Awesome acting and writing. A pleasure to watch for being 3 hours long. Themes don’t go very deep although there are profound moments in the story. 5/5 stars, 9/10 rating.
Haywire (2012) – female agent of espionage and rescue is being hunted and she wants to know why. Very much like the 2nd Bourne movie (The Bourne Supremacy). The actors are good, but since it’s very much an action movie there is not a lot of depth to comment on. 4/5 stars, 7/10 rating.
The Girl Who Played with Fire (2009) – Swedish language film involving private investigator who is framed from murder and her journalist friend who work together to find the truth. Great acting again, would question some of the directing, but very easy to watch. Graphic scenes of sex and violence, so again not for everyone. 4/5 stars, 7/10 rating.
Brave (2012) – Pixar movie about Scottish princess whose wish for her life to be different gets her in trouble. I found it actually quite charming. Needs a little buy-in from the viewer on magic potions and anthropomorphism for it to be enjoyable. 3/5 stars, 6/10 rating.
Our Idiot Brother (2011) – story of a loving hippie whose philosophy of trusting people gets him and his sisters in several pickles. Cool story, but the movie just wasn’t very funny. I didn’t really root for any of the characters, not even the lovable brother. Fairly predictable. Barely makes 3/5 stars, 5/10 rating.
Hereafter (2010) – three independent stories of searching for and interacting with the afterlife – a celebrity broadcast journalist from France, a former professional psychic in San Francisco, and a child in London who recently loses his twin brother. I found the story of the psychic to be incredible dull and overplayed in terms of his role in the bigger picture. The other two stories were fascinating and moving. Doesn’t explore deeply into the worldview of the characters, is too plot-focused to be a great thinking movie. 3/5 stars, 6/10 rating.
That’s all for now! Felt like I owed you something – perhaps the next few weeks have a new favorite waiting to be discovered!
Take Shelter
I feel like I have been hitting upon so many excellent movies lately. Take Shelter is another among the best.
Take Shelter deals with a man named Curtis as he struggles with his personal sense of honor when dealing with mental illness and coping with his loss of credibility with himself, his family, his friends, and his community.
The movie exhibits the nature of paranoid schizophrenia through Curtis’s perceived reality and his dreams and the effects those have on his relationships and his ability to work and live. Curtis shows us how human nature wants to deal with those conflicts, but more importantly for the story, how he personally responds to his natural instincts and reactions.
Truth for Curtis becomes untrustworthy, and trust in perceived truth is a big theme of the movie. He must learn to trust against what his mind says is true. The movie shows what happens when we run against the limits to the human mind, and positions it as not the reliable meter of truth that we often believe it to be,and build our philosophy and lifestyle around. Curtis’s story shows that we cannot rest completely on our own understanding. The discovery that his understanding is flawed affects his sense of honor and forces him to readjust how he fits into relationships and into society.
The movie shows the natural inclinations of society when reacting to members with mental illness. It discusses the use of therapy and institutionalization by society to deal with mentally ill, but more importantly it shows us Curtis’ relationship with these mechanisms. Much of the movie is a display of Curtis trying to see how he still fits into his “normal life” after he suspects his mind is compromised. He explores his role as a member of society, a father and husband, an employee and supervisor. There are implications about what responsibilities the society has to Curtis that mostly go unfulfilled. Another big theme is how the family plays a role in relationship to the larger society in taking care of the ill.
Curtis also traces his illness back to family history, which creates tension around his belief in his own illness, and his ability to cope or “escape” from the ways it affected earlier members of his family. He feels trapped by a condition that he cannot change and he did not cause. He develops a sense of unavoidable responsibility to deal with this unwanted stress. Curtis’ wife Samantha does an exceptional job at fulfilling her role as Curtis’ wife through this conflict, holding on to her own identity and freedom as a character, but also holding up her honor as a committed spouse and partner, and showing much care and compassion for her husband. The movie discusses our ideals in terms of what a spouse should do in a situation like Curtis’s and gives hope that illness does not mean the end of a successful marriage.
In fact, the love and loyalty shared by both Curtis and his family is the most significant factor that helps him through his conflict with himself and with society. Curtis is a typical man in terms of keeping problems private through his discovery phase, but his commitment to his family prompts him to open up and accept support from his wife which proves to be invaluable for the remainder of the story.
It seems like with every chapter of this story that Curtis loses another element of his “good life” to his abnormalities; but in light of what is most important to Curtis, he is able to develop his trust and communication with his spouse and family and ultimately earns back the credibility that was lost. And a dramatic ending questions whether he was completely crazy all along.
The film from 2011 stars Michael Shannon and Jessica Chastain, and was directed by Jeff Nichols (his second directorial work ever).
“It is impossible to go through life without trust: That is to be imprisoned in the worst cell of all, oneself.” – Graham Greene
M
M was one of the most awesome movies I have ever seen. And here is why.
M was created in 1931 by German-American director Fritz Lang – his first “talkie,” and only three years after the world hears sound in The Jazz Singer. The use of sound and silence in the film are used incredibly well. The movie also introduces cinema’s first serial killer — a man, Hans Beckert, who suffers from a murderous sexual compulsion towards children. Although Beckert escapes the arm of the law for practically the entire movie, his crimes foster widespread fear and panic amongst the citizens of Berlin, and catch the attention of the underground world of organized crime, the likes of which become greatly agitated at the high level of attention and blame directed toward them (especially by the police) because of the murders. So develops a duality of manhunts, one by the law through careful investigation, and the other by the criminals through bribery of the city’s beggar population. Ironically, the police resort to wading through paperwork and phone calls, while the criminals’ strategy is to keep watch over the children. Eventually a race develops between the police and the criminals to catch the killer.
The beggars find him first thanks to a blind balloon salesman who hears Beckert whistle the same tune as he did on a previous occasion with one of his victims. To track Beckert, they slyly use chalk to mark a large letter “M” on the back of Beckert’s coat. Beckert discovers he is being followed and panics, but is eventually caught by the organized criminals. The criminals then ironically put him on trial for a dramatic finale, in order to decide his fate while assigning one of their own to represent his defense.
No violence is actually shown in the movie, which heightens my admiration of the use of fear, terror, frustration, and exhaustion by nearly every character to tell the story. There is the an obvious theme of the power of mass hysteria. Another major theme is the presence of a moral absolutism amidst people of varying moralities. My favorite theme is that of justice. What is the society to do with the criminal once he is caught? Beckert delivers a somewhat impressive, somewhat overacted monologue on his inability to control his constant haunting compulsions, unlike his jury who only partake in crime to make a profit. However, the criminals shout crucifixion (ok, not really, but they want him dead). They argue that handing Beckert over to the law will only send him away to either escape or be paroled so he could commit more crime. But Beckert’s “lawyer” claims that no one has the authority to take life, even for a criminal, and points out the many crimes that he could hold over the judge himself’s head. Beckert himself acknowledges that he is not likely to change; and the balance hangs on the justice of sentencing someone who cannot control compulsive immorality. Does society place them in custody, the criminal living for free and being served by the people whom he owes? Or rather can society put to death a criminal who feels he is not acting of his own volition, but a sufferer of great insanity–someone who would desire to be moral but is unable to be? Are crimes committed by the sick worse than those committed by those conscious of their actions, or vice versa? Is extreme justice justified by a condition of mass hysteria?
At the end the law infiltrates the faux courtroom and captures Beckert, and his end is unknown. None of these questions are answered, but left to the viewer to contemplate. The awareness of the phenomena surrounding cultural terror and the morality surrounding criminal justice are incredibly fascinating for its time, especially in light of the historic policies adopted by Germany not a decade later. And yet the issues are ever-relevant.
My thoughts have developed to believe that criminals in essence break the social contract that keeps a society in tact. Therefore, the most logical result is they are expelled from the community. There is no need for a sense of retribution against them, but simply put, they can’t stay. In most instances, acts of restoration could earn back the person’s place in the society. In extreme instances, the person may find themselves wandering amidst a world where no society wants to trust him or her. However, I don’t see justice in terms of punishment simply as an act of retribution to make ourselves feel avenged. Justice is a word that evokes a sense of balance, and an eye for an eye seems more like an infinite line of dominoes– ever-perpetuating itself, never satisfied. There must be a middle ground here between grace and fairness. Exile from a community, whether temporary or permanent, balances deep shame with the grace to continue on elsewhere.
I have yet to even mention the superb talent by the cast and directors in the storytelling of this film. Again, I am so impressed to see such an early work display such a deeply moving, intellectual and ever-relevant work of art.
“He that cannot forgive others, breaks the bridge over which he must pass himself; for every man has a need to be forgiven.” -Lord Herbert
Drive (2011)
Like many I’m sure, I got very excited this summer about Ryan Gosling‘s new movie Drive, with it’s sleek billboards posted all around Los Angeles. Unfortunately, it got pushed to the back burner with other blockbusters like Contagion, Rise of the Planet of the Apes, and Captain America that my family or I wanted to see. So I finally watched it on DVD, after a case of its absence making my heart grow fonder. Unfortunately, though I was hugely disappointed with the movie.
One downside is that the purpose for the story does not seem evident at all until late into the movie. There are characters but you’re not sure what they want or where they are going, it’s almost as if they are making this story up as they go along. Gosling’s character “Driver” (see what I mean) is a getaway driver for hire – and a really good one – but wait, then he’s actually a stunt car driver during the day – awesome – but wait, he is actually teamed up with Bryan Cranston who’s trying to break him into the pro car racing scene and introduces a couple of big shot investors who need convincing to back the funding. BUT WAIT – he is ACTUALLY just a mechanic working in Cranston’s two-bit shop in the valley. OK. Now that we are thirty minutes into the movie and neither the plot nor the characters have shown their true colors, something happens. Gosling’s neighbor’s husband gets out of prison and now we finally have a conflict that can be teased, because Gosling has been subtly romancing the neighbor and more so falling for her 8-ish year old son. Well of course, the husband (Oscar Isaac) is out but not really “out;” he needs help breaking free from the bad guys so he convinced the Driver to help him do “one last job.” When (big surprise) the job goes south, revenge and pursuit ensue until practically everyone involved is dead.
The visual aspect of the movie is all it really had going for it. Newton Thomas Sigel(of Usual Suspects and the X-men movies) directed the cinematography, which was great. Cool camera work and the color was done nicely. Every shot did its job at evoking emotions of cool, danger or sorrow. Plus it was nice seeing the characters trot over nearly every locale in Los Angeles. The acting was ok. Gosling does nicely with the role, but not a whole lot to work with. The other roles seemed like they were practiced in separate closets, brought together for the first time on the day of shooting. None of them related to each other well, or displayed any sense of connection. Carey Mulligan’s scenes with Gosling were so awkward. What made it worse is there was a lot of space for nonverbal communication and it was like watching a bad acting class. Overall, the directing of the action sequences was great, the acts of violence were indulgently overdone, and there was barely a thread of a story to connect it together. And you better like 80’s music.
Being that I was expecting this to be a four star movie – it was a major disappointment to give it two stars instead. Unfortunately, I have to say this is one that I do not recommend.
“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” – Martin Luther King, Jr.
Gone Baby Gone
Here is another movie review. I recently watched Gone Baby, Gone for the first time. It had been in my queue for a while and while I moved it up recently so that it would come sooner, I do not recall the reason for doing this. I must have heard someone talking about it recently. I probably would have never given this movie a chance if it were not for friends talking about it. I mean, Ben Affleck? Really? But as you will read, I thoroughly enjoyed the movie and I’m glad that it was recommended to me. So the lesson: talk about movies you like with your friends, they might have to thank you for introducing them to a new favorite.
This was the lesson of my experience, but not the lesson of the movie.
The story follows a private investigator named Patrick Kenzie as he and his partner are asked to investigate a missing child case and the unraveling of a twisted plot resulting in some run-ins with profound ethical and moral decisions which Patrick takes to heart. Patrick’s moral compass is the anchor for the story, and Affleck (Ben) does an excellent job at teasing out and capturing the moments of moral confrontation. From a critical standpoint the film was quite excellent. Casey Affleck also does an outstanding job at giving the character his thoughtful nuances and expressing the wear and tear of both physical and emotional tolls exacted on Kenzie. To help the story the movie features good visual art direction and camerawork, and Harry Gregson-Williams adds a beautiful, moving score. However–like in many of my favorites–the themes transcended the movie; and for this piece they included good vs evil, responsibility, and human nature.
Without ruining the end of the movie, I found the confrontations in the final act of the film to be wonderfully thought-provoking. I can imagine that audiences would be split on the issues that are presented, as is represented by various characters in the movie. Kenzie is presented with a moral decision to help a child by returning the child to a broken home, or to let the child stay with loving kidnappers. Both those opposing him and those close to him would say to imagine the long-term consequences, with the perspective that a better environment will produce a better person. Kenzie disagrees, putting the focus on the matter at hand, in the present, and that an environment can change, and that a person can still come out of those surroundings on top. I applaud the illustration of this philosophical dilemma which I regard as one of the most important moral issues we face as mankind. In my humble opinion, Kenzie made the right decision. Some people only see the terrible conditions at the present and make a reactionary decision upon the assumption of future consequences. Kenzie does not deny that the consequences could turn out sour, but his emphasis is on not basing his morality on a future he cannot ensure will come true. It reminds me of the line from A Serious Man (another strong recommendation), that actions sometimes have consequences- not always the ones we think. We cannot tell lies assuming good will come of it, because simply, we do not know. And if that good does not come, all we have accomplished is compromising our integrity. Kenzie says he would rather apologize to the child that things did not get better, than apologizing that he did not return the child to its mother when he knew kidnapping was wrong. What a wonderful illustration of putting real integrity over reactionary principles.
“Two things inspire me to awe: the starry heavens above and the moral universe within.”
― Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason
Seven Years in Tibet
This was another rental but this time I got to pick from the pool of movie options, and finally felt like I had the time and patience for what I thought would be a slower-paced, serious and meditative movie. Well I got all three of those qualities right! Let me say, I liked it. I thought the storytelling could be improved upon, but the story (based on a book by Heinrich Harrer, the main character) was very good.
I didn’t realize what I was getting myself into on the history front. It usually takes a lot to get me into a history mood, so I’m fortunate this caught me off guard. By the end, I wanted to learn more about the geography of this time period and the history of the region of Tibet.
The story goes Heinrich Harrer is an experienced Austrian mountain climber leaving his expecting wife under the care of a friend while he goes on an expedition to climb Mt. Everest. A good way up the mountain Herrar gets hurt which slows their progress and eventually their good weather window closes and they get stuck in a blizzard. Upon retreating they get detained by British armed forces because World War II had started in Europe and being Austrian they were enemies of the state of India (controlled by Great Britain). Eventually they escape the POW into Tibet (we were expecting this given the title of the movie). There he and a fellow Austrian from the expedition team, Peter Aufschnaiter, are shown kindness by a minister to the Dalai Lama and allowed to stay in the Forbidden City of Lhasa. Harrer then is shown as a personal consult to the young Dalai Lama who shows great interest in western civilization and geography. I do not know how much of the consulting is accurate, but Harrer is shown to become very informal with the young leader. Eventually China comes to occupy Tibet. Political drama included.
Let me warn you that Brad Pitt’s Austrian accent is atrocious and does not get better throughout the movie. I thought the performances were very good, and Aufschnaiter (played by David Thewlis) was likable without being that good guy you hate for being so perfect. I thought the directing of the photography was excellent. The storytelling got a little fuzzy because at certain parts the film wanted to focus on the substories of the Tibetan diplomat to China and the Dalai Lama’s cultural fascinations, which were interesting, but we didn’t have enough context or resolution to really feel satisfied with them as coherent subplots. Instead they became more distractions than assets. The story is truly focused on Harrer, and what pieces of these other characters’ stories they show seem speculative and underdeveloped.
I enjoyed the themes of serving as a higher calling, finding one’s “path to liberation” as the Dalai Lama puts it, cultural loyalty and diplomacy, and non-violence. I was very intrigued that around the world many cultures have searched for these higher callings and paths to “liberation” (or salvation, used in western religions). When the Chinese generals visit the Dalai Lama prior to their invasion, the Dalai Lama explains to them their philosophy of non-violence and asks them not to see their spiritually as a weakness, but as a strength. I found this profoundly curious, especially since the generals’ response was highly irreverent and annoyed. Highly religious people like the Tibetans would have been (and may be some day) wiped out by violent, lesser-religious people since they refuse violence and rely on spiritual strength to preserve them. They seem content to pass away since their focus is on the spiritual and not the temporal. However, to some who value both the spiritual and the temporal, it is important to keep them alive for guidance and influence – and value the principles of respect and peace that the religious people put forth. So there are fighters who are willing to fight to keep the non-fighters alive. And lucky there are. Otherwise they would have been conquered and gone extinct long ago.
This takes me to today in my culture here in Southern California. Can we look at religious people (even the staunch old-religion types) for the value of their principles and faith? It seems that although people with principles and faith find a transcendent peace, our culture here looks condescendingly on religious people. But if religious adherence to principles and practices contributes to peace, maybe it is not the principles and practices that are negative, but those natural longings to rebel for the sakes of pleasure, whim, and other indulgences of expression and freedom that work against the fulfillment of purpose, peace and happiness. Assuredly these longings are natural, but perhaps our nature requires some commitment to disciplines (like diet and exercise) in the spiritual realm as well.
For the fire: 