My wife and I saw "The Blind Side" last night. Let me say this: Best picture? Are you kidding me? Look, I really went in to seeing this with an open mind. I like Sandra Bullock as an actress but I didn't think see did anything special here at all. What I want to know is: If you're black and you watch this film do you wonder if all the white people in America are crazy? This film is so heavy-handed with the hot, white Christian mom who saves the poor, unable to communicate well, black boy that I kept shaking my head. Really? I mean really?
There's a scene in which Sandra Bullock confronts some boys in the hood, threatening them, ending it with that she's a member of the NRA and is always packing. Okay, let me get this straight: Sandra Bullock's character goes to the projects, confronts several bad black dudes on their home turf and they don't even get up to confront her?
I kept watching this film, wondering what planet this movie was taking place in. The film is told solely from a safe, white perspective. The white mom who basically gets her way to save a black boy. Sure, that's a great story, but there's no true conflict or emotion in this story. It's so filled with fluff that I kept imaging a lot of middle-aged white folk sitting down feeling better about themselves in watching this flick.
Look, I like the story a lot. It's a rags to rices story. I've no problem with that. In fact, I'd like to hear the real story. Not the watered down version we get in this train wreck of a movie. Trust me, save your money and go see one of the other nominated flicks instead. In fact, go watch "An Education" and you'll see a much better movie. One that's filled with great acting, some serious conflict that's worth checking out. Thinking of seeing "The Blind Side"? Just pass. Trust me.
Over the holiday break my friend and I went to go see "An Education" (an amazing little film with a great breakout performance by Carey Mulligan) and before the movie began we saw the trailer for "The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus." I had forgotten that the movie was coming out soon so I was swept up in the trailer. Just from the minute and a half of footage I could tell that this film would be a feast for the imagination. However, I had heard of some of the problems that Terry Gilliam had in finishing the movie. The most complicated being that Heath Ledger died having completed only 1/3 of his scenes. With that in mind, my wife and I saw the film last night and seeing it was somewhat of a last minute adventure. We had planned on going out on a date to see "3 Idiots" but I convinced my wife to go to a different movie theater as I thought we'd have better dinner choices. And, as luck would have it, we were able to see "The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus."
The film is far from perfect suffering from breaks in Heath Ledger's having been unable to film 2/3 of the film, but the solution on solving that problem is brilliant. When you see the film and understand the solution, I think you'll agree that it's nearly seamless. But still, I wonder if the script had to be changed as the editing is good, but the narrative does break down toward the end. I won't give much away but it is what it is (again, I'm being vague on purpose). Yet the film is an imaginative joy to behold. There is depth in vision in this film as it's not only visually stunning, but filled with a sense of purpose and fun. The onscreen duel between Christopher Plummer and Tim Waits is timeless and we are asked to consider what we have sold to the devil in our own lives.
Plummer, as the Doctor Parnassus, is continually betting with the devil, desperately trying to save his daughter, but never quite able. Immortal and often filled with despair, Doctor Parnassus lives life knowing that the universe exists because humans tell their stories whereas the devil disagrees. The wisdom that comes from Parnassus causes us to question: Why are our stories so powerful and why do people keep telling them?
Depending on your willingness to use your imagination and take a leap of faith, I suspect some will love this film while others will ignore it. But isn't that true about life? Terry Gilliam has made a certain type of film. Somewhat arty and quirky with lots of dark humor and a critique about modern society. If you're willing to self-reflect and be whisked off into the world of Doctor Parnassus' imagination, you'll embark on a trip that you'll not regret. The film isn't perfect, but it's refreshing to see such a work on the big screen. And what about Ledger: He's good here, but he does not rise to the amazing work he did as the Joker in the "Dark Knight." If only he could have been around to film the rest of the film...
Yet, in a strange twist, immortality and fame are central themes to the film. Just as the devil tempts, showing a woman several floating flowered boats of famous people (James Dean, Princess Diana, etc.) drift down the dark river Styx, so I imagined Ledger's boat being there, too. Burned out too soon, he made a choice we are all given: Fame, money, power (fill in your own vice here) or true satisfaction and self-actualization. In a moment of pure fun early in the film, a young man runs to a mountain full of steps that lead to the light at the top. Engraved on the steps is: "12 x 12 x 12 Step Program." Looking up, the man sees that the road ahead will be difficult but, in the end, he'll find Nirvana and salvation. Behind him he sees a bar. Shrugging, he turns away from enlightenment and chooses the drink.
And that, in a nutshell, is brilliant. Always fast, easy and immediate gratification: Isn't that what we normally choose? In "The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus," we're asked to see the bigger picture and are tempted with two paths. As old as the world itself, Good vs. Evil. Ledger's character, Tony, chooses his path, Parnassus makes his own as do others in the film. In the end, our choice frames us for who we are and, if you're open to it, you'll be brought on a fun yet somewhat disturbing ride. If you're not up for that, then pass on this movie as you'll not enjoy it.
I went in to see Avatar wanting to dislike it. I had listened to the Filmspotting podcast's review and was all ready to hate it. I had made a bet with myself, thinking that I would love the visuals but dislike the weak narrative. But that's not what happened. Let me get the negative out of the way first. I did see the movie in 3D but not in IMAX. I was not impressed. To me the 3D was distracting and a gimmick as it was one of the strongest drawbacks to the movie. The world of Pandora is beautiful to behold and the ghost-like 3D images pulled me out its rich texture. A few times I peeked out of the glasses wanting to see the crisp colors on the screen instead of spears being jabbed at me in "amazing" 3D. I wanted to take in more of amazing art that unfolded on screen and not appear to be balanced over a cliff in 3D.That did nothing for me.
And the acting... Well, well. How can I say this without it coming off negative? The human actor parts of the film kept pulling me out of the story. Giovanni Ribisi as a ruthless businessman and Matt Gerald as a gun-ho corporal were so over the top that I believed in the emotions of all the Na'vi people more than those of the human actors. The 2D "we hate the hostiles" attitude came off weak, too simplistic and annoying.
Closely tied to the bad acting is the storyline. Have you seen "Dances with Wolves," "Pocahontas" or "Princess Mononoke"? Then you know the plot and how things are going to work out. (And if you'd like to discover more of the planet as "Gaia" theme, I highly recommend you watch the japanese anime series "Arjuna." This series thoroughly addresses our relationship with mother Earth in a complicated and engaging way.)
Now with all the negative off my chest, what did I think of the film? Gone are the days of Jar Jar from Star Wars: The Phantom Menace. In ten years, technology has advanced to such a point that I can believe that a CGI character is real--moves real, expresses emotion believably and interacts with live actors naturally. Zoe Saldana who is the voice actor for Neytiri breathes life into her character. As Neytiri jumps, flashes her teeth in anger or cries, Saldana's voice melds with the onscreen image as though she is using an avatar herself. The CGI character we see is seamless with the human voice. She's beautiful to behold.
Watching the forest of Pandora come to life is an amazing treat and well worth the price of admission as you've not seen anything like this before. Do not be surprised when Avatar is nominated for best picture of the year. There is an energy in this film that speaks to both men and women, reaches into our core selves asking that you put aside some of the lame plot (what's the point of "unobtainium" anyway?!) but to allow the child within to enjoy the world that unfolds before you. My favorite parts are the forest night scenes. The phosphorescent glow of the plants and the creatures at night are breathtaking, but it's not just the visual art that is award winning. The interaction between Jake and Neytiri is just plain awesome to behold. Are we watching animation or are we watching real actors come to life? Yes, there are other Na'vi that are not as well drawn out on the screen, but I never felt the awkward moment knowing that a character was CGI and just looked wrong. Instead I was drawn into the forest and amazed at the attention to detail: Cracks in Neytiri's war paint as she scrunches her face to flash her teeth at her enemy.
Avatar has already crossed the $1 billion dollar mark and I suspect that there will be no slowing in sight as the mid week screening I took in last night was packed and the IMAX shows were all sold out. If you're on the fence about seeing this film, go. You will have spent $14 in worse ways. No, it's not a perfect film as just a little more time on the script could have done wonders. But you have not seen anything so beautiful and magical. Funny enough, I want to see the film again, but in 2D and not in 3D so that I can take in all that I missed. Enjoy yourself with this film as there's a lot to love.
"Make no mistake. Your relationships are the heaviest
components in your life. All those negotiations, and arguments and secrets and
compromises. The slower we move, the faster we die. Make no mistake: Moving is living."
In Jason Reitman’s “Up in the Air,” Clooney’s Ryan Bingham
preaches the line above at one of his motivational talks. He is a shark among
men, believing that movement and lightening one’s backpack is essential to
survival. Not to knock either film, but with ten-foot tall blue aliens (Avatar)
and kids’ fare (The Princess and the Frog) eating up the box office, it’s
wonderful to have a smart, witty and emotionally revealing film out during the
holidays. My wife and I had the pleasure of seeing “Up in the Air,” and I’m
glad we did. I’ll skirt away from the in-depth plot points, but here’s the
gist: Ryan Bingham flies around the country more than 320 days out of the year,
going in to companies and being the heavy. His job is to let employees go. He’s
a terminator. Young upstart, Natalie Keener (Anna Kendrick who plays Angela in the
Twilight films) has worked it all out. She has devised a plan to use
video/headsets to virtually fire employees all around the country from the
Omaha home office saving the company that both she and Ryan work for millions
of dollars. The problem: Just as Ryan has crossed paths with a woman just like
himself, he’s being grounded.
What plays out on screen is heartfelt and filled with depth
of character and emotion. Clooney’s acting chops are a pleasure to behold. His suave
attitude as he clashes with Kendrick’s young and inexperienced Natalie is Oscar
worthy. Time and time again, characters wonder aloud: What is the point? What
is the point of marriage, of our connections, friendships and our
relationships? These questions are asked and then juxtaposed against those who
are being fired. Who’s had 13 years of service at a company and is fired? Or
saved the company millions? Fired. Clooney is detached from the emotional world
as he fires dozens of people and sees their deepest selves on display while he
glides from kiosk to kiosk with his gold cards and membership perks to remain
adrift emotionally.
The heaviest components in our lives are our relationships.
Yet the answers we are given in this film are not as simple and trite as you
might expect from Hollywood. Sometimes there are no simple answers. Love, trust
and commitment are hard work and each of us has a choice. To fly among the
clouds, never truly connecting and feeling or--jumping in, getting wet and
truly living. What unfolds on screen is light enough to be enjoyable during
this holiday season yet filled with enough substance that you’ll be glad you
took in this film. For in the end, are we social animals or are we sharks,
preying up the world never stopping for lack of movement means death? Do
yourself a favor and go see this film. Clooney’s role alone is worth the price
of admission. And, if you’re open, you might just learn a little bit about yourself.
Who are you: Emotionally detached from people or have you truly embraced the
people in your life? Hopefully, you’ll find where you are on the loner/joiner spectrum
and question why you’re there.
I am a Twilight fan. No matter that it's very popular today to disparage Stephenie Meyer's vampire novels, I'm still a fan. On a plane to Atlanta several years ago, I stumbled across a podcast that had an interview with Jacqueline Carey and the hosts mentioned how great the Twilight series was. In full disclosure, I had thought that Meyer's books would be similar in theme to Carey's, but I was pleasantly surprised with Meyer's books. Although many disagree with me in liking the Twilight series, I wanted to spend a few minutes discussing why I like the series. I am tired of reading/hearing haters trash the books without reading them and discussing their impact on the youth of today. Like it or not, 70 million plus books have been sold and the movies are breaking box office records.
To take a step back, I first read these books in 2007. What I liked about the series is that Meyer plays around with typical vampire lore. Her vampires have special powers (mind reading, projecting pain, shielding one's thoughts, etc.) and are able to walk in sunlight. I also liked that Bella Swan is one of the main characters: She's quirky, accident prone, geeky and a bit tormented. She falls in love with the unattainable god-like Edward. He is kind, patient, a good listener, courageous, understanding, loving and basically a proto-typical Prince Charming who is perfect in nearly every way. Yet Edward's honor code and love for Bella captured my attention. He is one of the main characters of the series, but neither Jacob nor he are the central character. Bella is the core of the novel. We, as readers, go on a female hero's quest. Back in 1996 I wrote my thesis for my M.A. in English Literature on "Memory and the Quest for Self: A Jungian Reading of Alice Walker and Margaret Atwood." Here's a passage from my thesis that I believe is relevant to my discussion on the Twilight series:
"When archetypal images are applied to literature we can recognize a protagonist's behavioral patterns as being universal to the human condition. By analyzing the protagonist's behavior in relation to four specific archetypal images (persona, shadow, animus, and self), we will be able to better comprehend the feminine individuation process. Simply put, individuation is defined as 'coming to selfhood' or 'self-realization' (Storr 418). According to Jungian theory, a personality on the road toward individuation consists of four parts. Atkinson defines Jung's theory and explains that:
a personality striving for full individuation or integration has four aspects . . . (1) the ego (or persona), that person (or role) we consider ourselves to be in normal waking consciousness; (2) the shadow, that figure of the same sex as the ego who embodies negative and positive traits which might have been conscious but which have now been repressed; (3) . . . animus, the man within the woman, representing the male consciousness with which the woman must reconcile herself; and finally, (4) the Self, that perfect wholeness which the individual can become when [she] has reconciled [herself] . . . with her shadow and animus and become [her] own potentiality for being. (Atkinson 85)"
For me, the Twilight series represents Bella's journey on the process of selfhood and individuation. Awkward, quirky and unsure of herself, Bella's struggles lead her to the final climatic battle with the Volturi in which she has not only become a wife and mother, but, most importantly, she has discovered her own power and her ability to utilize it for defense and revelation. The typical male hero's journey is filled with weapons of power and destruction: A hammer, a lightsaber, a bow and arrow. Such typical masculine weapons have shaped our literature for as long as humans can write. But with Meyer's work, Bella is withdrawn and has the ability to shield herself from outside influences. Protected and blocked out from society, Bella struggles to overcome her inner demons and fears, realizing in the end that her shield can be used as a defensive tool to protect those she loves. But in a telling moment at the close of "Breaking Dawn," Bella lifts her shield up to allow Edward to be intimately close to her. Throughout the series, she has been an impenetrable shield to his mind reading ability, but upon discovering her true power and confidence, Bella opens her inner core to Edward.
Bella's journey through ego, shadow, animus and self plays itself out naturally through the course of the four books. No, Bella is not a classical hero in which she realizes her potential from the start and strives to embrace her destiny. Rather, she stumbles, falls and chases after her animus--split between the wolfman Jacob and the bloodsucking Edward. Her journey of obtaining everlasting love with her soulmate, Edward, is tattered and broken through her using Jacob to help fill a void within her psyche. Abandoned by Edward in "New Moon," Bella's struggle for self-actualization is hampered by her inability to reconcile her feelings of grief after Edward's departure. Her journey is slow, crooked and unusual for a typical male hero's quest. It is only through death, marriage and birth of her daughter that Bella is reborn as a vampire and fully cognizant of her powers. Still relatively young and inexperienced, the Twilight series ends on a high note. Hopefully, we will see Bella's growth in future books.
However, I am concerned about Twilight's impact on today's youth. Young girls are flocking to see the film, screaming their undying love to Jacob and Edward. But here is what bothers me: Edward is a hero who is near perfect. I wonder if the young girls of today, who are fans of the series, can separate themselves form their wanting of Edward to the reality of life. In the books and movies, Edward loves Bella without question. His only flaw is that his love blinds him to abandon Bella in her hour of need. No man in reality is like Edward. The darker sides of our Prince of the Night are glossed over: He likes to drink blood and is also rough at sex. Will today's tweens see beyond Edward's and Jacob's good looks to Bella's journey toward individuation? Will they see Bella's journey as a hero's quest? Or are they blinded by beauty and unable to put into perspective Bella's growth?
No matter what naysayers might voice about the Twilight series, the books' influence on women/girls today is overwhelming. My thought is this: Stop mocking the series, read it and then decide. Meyer portrays a young female hero from her earliest days to her most powerful in standing her ground during the Volturi faceoff in "Breaking Dawn." In the end, to each his own, but there's more beneath the surface of the Twilight series--if you're willing to look. Give the series a read, but don't mock it if you've not read it. There is much to like in these books. And in just scratching the surface, the complexity of a Jungian interpretation is well worth pursuing. So, sit back, relax, enjoy the books. Constructive criticism to this post is encouraged, but flaming behavior is not.
I ask a lot of people. I know. So, first off, watch the trailer above (it's 2:42 long) and then either click back or stay. Good, that was easy. Those who weren't curious have gone. Now it's just the rest of us. I watched, for the second time, "You and Me and Everyone We Know" last night. I have wanted to show this movie to a friend, but I have not had the opportunity to do. There's something precious and vulnerable and special about this film. I remember watching it with my wife when it came out back in 2005. We lived in a different house then, our son was about two years old and life was different. I'm not the person I was then, but I am. It's the contradiction of life. We grow, we change, but some of who we are stays the same.
I wanted to know about Miranda July and so I went to her website and a wave of emotion swept over me. She has a way of disarming me through her works, touching at the base of that intimate part of me through her art. I was literally taken aback in visiting her home page, just welling up with emotion because she's gets it.
And what does she get? Life is so precious and so wonderful, filled with amazing and special and unique moments--each day--that we typically don't see or pay attention to or are aware of. We're little islands of loneliness, walking through a vast sea, sometimes bumping into other islands, yet we often don't share who we are or what we feel. I think I identify with July's work so much because I can connect to it and I remember a time in my life when I was so filled with creativity and power but I didn't know what to do with it.
When I was around 19 or 20, I used to take the bus to college and I would be feeling so much. I was going through my teenager, angst period, I guess. It was as though I was a big radio dish and I wasn't broadcasting, but I was receiving all the signals from those around me. I could just feel life, people and I didn't know what to do about it. It was around this time that I started writing short poems. I didn't do it often, but I would write a short piece and then leave it on a seat for the next person to find. It wasn't so much that I wanted someone to notice me (though I used to joke with myself and think I was the "mad poet of SEPTA"), but I wanted someone else to know that I felt the same loneliness and confusion and possibilities that they did.
A year or so later, at my clothing store department job, I began writing poetry and leaving the poems at the cash register for my colleagues. Unfortunately, the people who I left the poetry for never said anything. They were worried about sales, numbers, figures and their own looks. Nothing negative was said, but nothing positive either.
And then in graduate school, I started going to poetry readings and I took the chance to be like Miranda July. I would read some of my most intimate works or I'd make something up--a bit of a skit or a performance art piece. I wanted to open myself to people, to show the energy I had and to connect with people. It was scary, fun and now that time is long gone.
I (and anyone reading this) now have the power to communicate with anyone, anywhere in the world. I can post blogs, Facebook notes, tweets, videos through YouTube--we have tremendous tools.
But what I want to do today is to simply have you watch the trailer for that movie, to maybe go rent it, see its quirkiness and to then stop. I mean really stop and look around. Look at things with a different eye, from a different angle. Maybe stand on a chair, or look up or get on your belly and look at people or places in ways you never did before. There's magic happening around us all the time, but we don't notice it. It's right there for us to touch and to see. (This is why I asked you to watch the trailer and then stay or click the back arrow. I'm too aware to know that people think this sort of thing dumb. That's why I told them to leave if they wanted.) When I see Miranda July's work, I'm reminded of that. I'm reminded that not everyone is lost or closed or afraid.
If there's anything I could say to end this, I'd simply say that I'm so thankful that I have the ability to see and sense. It doesn't make me special or different. It's just what I am aware. I just want to be. A person, a worker, a husband, a son, father, colleague, friend, lover, lost and found and complicated and alive. To be. To be--me.
My wife and I were able to go to the movies the other night and we saw "Julie & Julia." Overall I enjoyed the film, but I would agree with Adam and Matty of Filmspotting.net in that the Julia parts were so much more compelling than the modern day Julie scenes. I love Amy Adams, but the scenes written for her were contrived, pretty predictable and downright boring. Boo-hoo, husband and wife argue at how hard Julie's cooking all those recipes in one year is. The buildup just didn't add up to a good payoff. However, Meryl Streep and Stanley Tucci were a joy to watch on screen. Their rapport, the challenges they go through--I just wanted to see more. Each time the movie switched back to New York 2002 I groaned inwardly, hoping that the scene wouldn't last too long so that I could get back to seeing the real story.
But here's the interesting thing. The truth is starting to come out. It seems that all isn't rosey in the true life of Julie Powell. Here's an interesting tidbit I learned: "Cleaving: A Story of Marriage, Meat, and Obsession,
[Powell's next book] reveals the extramarital affair she had with an old friend was met with
both eyerolls and raised eyebrows, and her publisher's decision to push
back the book's release date and screenwriter Nora Ephron's omission of
the affair from the film...." I heard about this from my wife and if you want to read more, check out the Newsweek article. What bothers me about Nora Ephron's decision to cut out the affair from the movie is that the film plays out like a watered down high school play. Girl is upset with her life, decides to do something challenging, suffers along the way and, presto, all is solved (magically).
The problem is that life isn't that simple and it would have been wonderful to see a film that had a bit more teeth to it. But, God forbid, the story be told about how Julie's affair was sadomasochistic and that she wanted this type of a sexual relationship. What is so disturbing is that a person's life has been watered down, made to look appealing and "wholesome," but the spirit and soul of the project has been left out. We don't really get to know Powell and the struggles and quest for meaning she went through. Wouldn't it be wonderful if more directors and writers took a chance to make films that matter rather than create films to help brainwash Americans to feel all safe and sound in our little white picket fenced houses?
I would recommend the film, but I'm much more intrigued in reading Julie Powell's book as, at the end of the day, aren't we all flawed, but it's our insecurities and faults, and how we overcome them, that's the true story. In the film Julie and Julia, you're seeing only a piece of the pie, but, honestly, I would have preferred to have the entire meal--from soup to nuts.
Did you see the movie trailer embedded above for (500) Days of Summer? Good. My wife and I went to see this film as I heard much about it. I'm a bit torn about the film as I think I'm colored by hearing the review that Adam and Matty gave on the Filmspotting podcast. Parts of me loved the film. And other parts thought it would have been edited in areas, but I think what bothered me the most is that the movie, as written, portrays Summer as a really, really distant and selfish character. Well, maybe that's not quite right. Maybe, on behalf of all men out there, I wanted to also call her a Bitch for how she treated poor Tom. Or maybe I was angry at Tom for allowing himself to be treated so badly by her. Or, maybe I'm angry at Tom for not hearing what Summer was saying. It's complicated. And with any film that can cause me to be so conflicted in the course of a hour and a half, why, I guess it's not half bad.
I did enjoy the film, but you can see the writing on the wall as to where the film is headed, but you're not quite sure exactly how/when/where it'll all end up with. And, in a romantic comedy, of the new age, that's a really good thing. It's nice to see our tried and true genres be broken over the head by a Manic Pixie Dream Girl named Summer. What you want to happen and what actually does leaves you musing about your own life and your own memories of love gone horribly wrong.
What worked so well are some of the ending moments in the film. I don't want to ruin it, but watch and pay attention you're brought through their relationship and you get to see their relationship on full display.
But a core question in the film is still up for grabs: Do you believe in fate, destiny? Or, more importantly, do you believe in one soulmate? Are we destined to meet only one person and fall in love with them and that's that--Happy ever after and cue up the music? This film challenges our assumptions about love and all that we know about relationships and asks us to see life a little bit differently. No matter what side of the fence you're on, it's a film about life and there are some important lessons to learn. God, how I was seeing myself on the screen as I've acted so poorly over how deeply I have fallen for a woman. And yet, if you take a step back and ask this question, it'll be interesting to see what the answer is: When I remember falling so hard and so fast for a woman, was I in love with being in love or did I love her? Or, to really mix it up, did I fall in love with the me I discovered in loving her?
There's a song and dance number dealing with a Daryl Hall and John Oats' song that will have you laughing outloud and pinpointed a few moments in my life. The day after you've finally made that big leap in the secret world of intimacy with a woman is the day that you could take on an army. You are invincible as you are seeing the world through rose tinted glasses that probably would make a pile of poo look like a sweet summer flower. Much is captured in this film, but, in the end, I saw the message as being pretty clear. Don't try to figure women out, you'll never get it, but, if you want to believe in love (which I do for obvious reasons!), then follow your heart and do what's best for yourself first. Take care of yourself, do what you love and you'll be okay. Life will put people in your path when you least expect it. There's no secret. It's that simple. The film's whole message can be summed up in Dan Savage's line that he uses on his Savage Love podcast: "All relationships are doomed to fail--until one doesn't." (I'm paraphrasing, but you get the idea.)
If you're looking for a good film to see, check this one out, but watch out for Summer. She's gorgeous and has beautiful eyes but, in the end, she's not to be yours.
I had heard about the great reviews for Pixar's new film Up, but I blew them off. I thought it would be a solid film, but I didn't think that I would be in tears 10 minutes into the film! When I first saw the trailer for Up a while back, I shrugged my shoulders and didn't think more about it. I just didn't see how a film about an old man in a house that floated away on balloons could be exciting. Boy, was I wrong.
If there's anything that I learned, it's that the Pixar team knows how to tell a story and they're getting better at it each time. If only the other films coming out in American theaters had such heart and soul as this movie. Up is a story about loss, grief, missed opportunities and hope. It's a film that teaches adults the importance of life and why it's necessary to throw the GPS out the window and go on an adventure. But what about those first 10 minutes that made me cry? (I'm serious in that I was biting my tongue, holding back tears.) The emotional connection of what was being portrayed on the screen contained such power, but in a subtle way. Unlike the heavy "green" message in Wall-E, Up's story is about one man's journey rather than the survival of the human race, but, in a nice twist, it's easy to see how we can all be better people by connecting to those around us--even if it's with a wide-eyed innocent named Russell who just wants to help a little too much.
The joy of this film is that we're taken on an emotional rollar coaster as Carl tries to navigate through the land mines of life. What's so special about this film is that it works perfectly on two levels. My son (who will be six in a few months) didn't see the subtle layers of the film whereas I was a mess. To him, the story was clear and filled with adventure and color. (When Carl's house first floats away by a building with a little girl, the sunlight reflected rainbow of color of the balloons filling her room with vibrance is a beauty to behold onscreen.) When Russell explains to Carl how his father no longer comes to sit on the curb with him after his scout meetings, I was cast back to my own five year old self. Russell has captured the essence of relationships: "My father and I used to sit on the curb counting the red and blue cars going by. I know it sounds boring, but sometimes it's the boring things that you remember." Carl knows all about this--you can see his understanding in his eyes. The hurt is there. And I could identify with Russell as the fact that my own father had never taken me to the movies, or taught me how to play baseball or ride a bike or any of the "boring" things that Russell so longed for with his father. But the essence of the movie is about hope, adventure, letting go and of learning to live again. I thought of this as I put my hand on my son's knee and patted him. His father was there. Circles could be broken, there is hope.
A simple act of taking my son to the movie helped me experience a wonderful film and I was exhuberant in the fact that a good story, about people, can still be made in our glitzy world of 2009. Carl and Russell's story is timeless and integral to the human experience. Isn't it funny how going to see a children's movie could evoke such such hope in the power of the human spirit? Anyone who scoffs at animation needs to sit down and seriously take a second look at Pixar's films as they have become progressively mature film after film. Not only do the CGI effects become increasingly beauitful to look at, but the characters and the storylines are becoming more complex and human. Up is no Toy Story. It is an adult film wrapped in a sweet layer of candy so that children of all ages can enjoy it on one level and then, after its wrapping has been taken off, savored and enjoyed.
For those going with young children, remember that Up is PG and not G. There is some violence and scary scenes for young tots. Keep that in mind as there was one little girl crying at some of the more disturbing scenes.
If you're looking to see a film that's your typical summer popcorn flick, Up isn't it. Rather Up is a heart-warming film to help you rediscover your faith in humanity and, if you look hard enough, you might just learn a little something about your own heart as well.
If I had to choose, I would fall on the Star Wars side between Star Trek and the holy trilogy (let's pretend the Star Wars prequels didn't happen, okay?). I like to set the stage so that everyone understands my point-of-view. I've send every major Star Trek movies, multiple times, and am a big fan of Star Trek: The Wrath of Kahn and a The Undiscovered Country as well as The Search for Spock and The Voyage Home. It's those pesky odd numbered films that I like to ignore.
So in going to see the new J. J. Abrams "Star Trek" last night I had high expectations. The last trailer I saw looked rocking and had plenty of action and some fun, quirky one-liners that I thought would play out on the big screen. But then I saw Abrams on The Colbert Report and he admitted that he wasn't a Star Trek fan and I thought that was a bit odd in that he'd want to make a movie about a series that he wasn't a fan, but I brushed it off.
The film opens with a bang and, if I might say so, the best part is the opening. There's more eye candy there than you can handle. Phasers and ships blowing up and photon torpedoes, oh my! But then the action slows and you're brought through this muddled plot that makes no sense. I loved the introduction of the characters early on, but by the time you get to some really weak writing such as "Hey, I'm stuck here too, isn't it neat that we all happen to be meeting up at once? Just right when we need such special ability?" that I started to lose interest. To make it even more of a bore, a flashback scene with a voiceover explains what the heck has happened so that you can connect the dots. I just shook my head and sighed. Come on. I'm not stupid, but I guess if you have such a weak plot that you need to make certain that everyone gets that you're re-inventing the Star Trek universe and you happen to throw in lots of bad science, contrived plot lines and extremely weak characterizations.
I'm trying to remain vague on purpose but the big baddy (Captain Nero) decides to spend 25 years of his life trying to capture someone. He does and his big revenge is to release this person (what the?!) so that he can live with all the pain that Nero has. Then, late in the film, Nero says something like: "I knew I shouldn't have let him go! Gosh darnnit!" (Well, I added the "Gosh" part.) It's plot holes like that in which you just scratch your head and think: The baddy can blow up planets and he's too stupid to keep his enemy locked up? Are you kidding me?
I could go on and on and on with all these crazy plot holes, but I'm getting bummed. I'm glad that the Blu-ray versions of the original Star Trek films are coming out next week. I'll see them again. Now don't get me wrong. There's some good in these films, but the plot so weakens this film that it's not even funny. Really, it's not. I thought the acting was good, but many of the supporting cast have nothing to do in the film and that's a shame because I would have liked to have seen them work more together. But, I expect the next film will move onward and develop those relationships.
As for the effects, they're top-notch. The sound is immersive (though I wasn't a fan of the score) and there are some great battles. It's just my belief that the best is in the first 15 mins. You never really see anything that matches that throughout the rest of the film. Out of a scale of 1 to 10, I give it a 7 (a 70 passing grade but nothing to write home about).
One last comment: There's a scene in which Bill Hunt of www.TheDigitalbits.com says explains why this film "isn't your father's Trek." I now know what scene he's talking about (it's in the elevator of the Enterprise with two characters). I thought that scene was self-serving and didn't really add much to the story or the plot. Seemed to be thrown in there for shock value as though Abrams is saying, "See, I'm hip! Really, I am." I get it. I really get it, and for the record, it's not hip. Wasn't a shocker for me. Just made me roll my eyes as, again, the connection didn't matter to the story. Just was thrown in there.
But I don't want to end on a low note. Chris Pine as Kirk is a splash of fresh water and I really enjoyed his portrayal of the iconic Kirk. Nicely done! There's a lot to love in this new film if you ignore the lame baddy and the plot. So basically, treat it as a popcorn flick and you'll have fun. It's no "The Dark Knight."
Twilight and A Female Protagonist's Hero's Quest
To take a step back, I first read these books in 2007. What I liked about the series is that Meyer plays around with typical vampire lore. Her vampires have special powers (mind reading, projecting pain, shielding one's thoughts, etc.) and are able to walk in sunlight. I also liked that Bella Swan is one of the main characters: She's quirky, accident prone, geeky and a bit tormented. She falls in love with the unattainable god-like Edward. He is kind, patient, a good listener, courageous, understanding, loving and basically a proto-typical Prince Charming who is perfect in nearly every way. Yet Edward's honor code and love for Bella captured my attention. He is one of the main characters of the series, but neither Jacob nor he are the central character. Bella is the core of the novel. We, as readers, go on a female hero's quest. Back in 1996 I wrote my thesis for my M.A. in English Literature on "Memory and the Quest for Self: A Jungian Reading of Alice Walker and Margaret Atwood." Here's a passage from my thesis that I believe is relevant to my discussion on the Twilight series:
"When archetypal images are applied to literature we can recognize a protagonist's behavioral patterns as being universal to the human condition. By analyzing the protagonist's behavior in relation to four specific archetypal images (persona, shadow, animus, and self), we will be able to better comprehend the feminine individuation process. Simply put, individuation is defined as 'coming to selfhood' or 'self-realization' (Storr 418). According to Jungian theory, a personality on the road toward individuation consists of four parts. Atkinson defines Jung's theory and explains that:
a personality striving for full individuation or
integration has four aspects . . . (1) the ego (or
persona), that person (or role) we consider ourselves
to be in normal waking consciousness; (2) the shadow,
that figure of the same sex as the ego who embodies
negative and positive traits which might have been
conscious but which have now been repressed; (3)
. . . animus, the man within the woman, representing
the male consciousness with which the woman must
reconcile herself; and finally, (4) the Self, that
perfect wholeness which the individual can become
when [she] has reconciled [herself] . . . with her
shadow and animus and become [her] own potentiality
for being. (Atkinson 85)"
For me, the Twilight series represents Bella's journey on the process of selfhood and individuation. Awkward, quirky and unsure of herself, Bella's struggles lead her to the final climatic battle with the Volturi in which she has not only become a wife and mother, but, most importantly, she has discovered her own power and her ability to utilize it for defense and revelation. The typical male hero's journey is filled with weapons of power and destruction: A hammer, a lightsaber, a bow and arrow. Such typical masculine weapons have shaped our literature for as long as humans can write. But with Meyer's work, Bella is withdrawn and has the ability to shield herself from outside influences. Protected and blocked out from society, Bella struggles to overcome her inner demons and fears, realizing in the end that her shield can be used as a defensive tool to protect those she loves. But in a telling moment at the close of "Breaking Dawn," Bella lifts her shield up to allow Edward to be intimately close to her. Throughout the series, she has been an impenetrable shield to his mind reading ability, but upon discovering her true power and confidence, Bella opens her inner core to Edward.
Bella's journey through ego, shadow, animus and self plays itself out naturally through the course of the four books. No, Bella is not a classical hero in which she realizes her potential from the start and strives to embrace her destiny. Rather, she stumbles, falls and chases after her animus--split between the wolfman Jacob and the bloodsucking Edward. Her journey of obtaining everlasting love with her soulmate, Edward, is tattered and broken through her using Jacob to help fill a void within her psyche. Abandoned by Edward in "New Moon," Bella's struggle for self-actualization is hampered by her inability to reconcile her feelings of grief after Edward's departure. Her journey is slow, crooked and unusual for a typical male hero's quest. It is only through death, marriage and birth of her daughter that Bella is reborn as a vampire and fully cognizant of her powers. Still relatively young and inexperienced, the Twilight series ends on a high note. Hopefully, we will see Bella's growth in future books.
However, I am concerned about Twilight's impact on today's youth. Young girls are flocking to see the film, screaming their undying love to Jacob and Edward. But here is what bothers me: Edward is a hero who is near perfect. I wonder if the young girls of today, who are fans of the series, can separate themselves form their wanting of Edward to the reality of life. In the books and movies, Edward loves Bella without question. His only flaw is that his love blinds him to abandon Bella in her hour of need. No man in reality is like Edward. The darker sides of our Prince of the Night are glossed over: He likes to drink blood and is also rough at sex. Will today's tweens see beyond Edward's and Jacob's good looks to Bella's journey toward individuation? Will they see Bella's journey as a hero's quest? Or are they blinded by beauty and unable to put into perspective Bella's growth?
No matter what naysayers might voice about the Twilight series, the books' influence on women/girls today is overwhelming. My thought is this: Stop mocking the series, read it and then decide. Meyer portrays a young female hero from her earliest days to her most powerful in standing her ground during the Volturi faceoff in "Breaking Dawn." In the end, to each his own, but there's more beneath the surface of the Twilight series--if you're willing to look. Give the series a read, but don't mock it if you've not read it. There is much to like in these books. And in just scratching the surface, the complexity of a Jungian interpretation is well worth pursuing. So, sit back, relax, enjoy the books. Constructive criticism to this post is encouraged, but flaming behavior is not.
Posted at 10:52 PM in Commentaries, Film | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
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