I liked X III. Not as much as I liked X II, and I'm not enough of a comic geek to have stakes in the whole "Dark Phoenix" storyline, but I certainly wasn't disappointed with the movie.
And before I continue, let me say that what follows will have SPOILERS GALORE! If you have not seen the movie yet, stop reading now and just know that you must stay until the end of the final credits.
X III certainly delivers in the action department. The action is solidly written and directed, and the one sequence intended to drop jaws -- Magneto's repositioning of the Golden Gate Bridge -- does exactly that. The movie is also well-paced -- Pacing is often not given enough credit in action movies, and is a function of the writing and the editing. It's nice to see some new characters -- Angel could have (should have) been given more screen time, if only for his beauty alone. But Beast was nicely used (and nicely underplayed by Kelsey Grammer, not known for his underacting), as was Kitty Pryde (both in her X-role, and in her making-Rogue-jealous role).
But the thing I appreciate most about X III -- about all the X-movies, actually -- is that they make me think. I find myself pondering moments and issues from the movies long after leaving the theatre -- and how often can you say that about a summer popcorn tentpole?
We'll come back to that. First, a few quibbles.
--Weak dialogue throughout. It's easy not to notice this when it's Patrick Stewart or Ian McKellen saying the words (hey, if Sir Ian could sell Da Vinci Code, he can sell anything). But Hugh Jackman is no slouch as an actor, and when he starts to sound lame -- well, it's gotta be the writing, not the acting.
--Where was NightCrawler? I missed him.
--I also missed Xavier. The conflict (and affection) between Magneto and Xavier drives these movies to a large extent, so removing him from the action as early as they did was, in my view, a huge mistake. Fine, keep the same plot point, but push it back to the end of the second act. Let us enjoy Patrick Stewart as long as possible, then let us be horrified at the thought that Xavier will not be around to keep Magneto (or Jean) under control. Don't take away all that juice so early in the movie.
--The final shot (before the credits). What a confusing shot. Of our group that went to the movie, half the people realized Magneto had moved the chess piece without touching it, half didn't. All they had to do was move the camera about two feet, so it was less of an over-the-shoulder shot, and the enormous "whoa!" moment wouldn't have been lost to half the audience.
...X III is, as I said above, a summer movie that's actually about something. The concept of "the cure" is a great starting point for the movie. And they did some nice stuff with it -- Angel. Mystique. (And -- one of the high points of the movie for me -- Magneto's reaction to Mystique becoming human -- heartless and shocking, but utterly consistent with his belief system.) Magneto becoming human (at least temporarily) is certainly a case of just desserts, and very emotionally satisfying in that sense.
But where were the moments - we didn't need many -- where the X-Men sat around and talked about what the cure could mean. Yeah, we got a nice moment from Beast, and sure, Rogue wants to be able to touch her boyfriend. But where were the moments where the other X-Men got to muse over what it might mean to be "normal," about what it was like to grow up as freaks, about whether it's better to be part of an undistinguished but unanguished majority or a tortured but gifted minority. These issues couldn't help but be raised by the brilliant plot device of "the cure" -- but once raised, they were left sitting there. A great concept, that could have been so much much more.
And let's talk about the other ethical concept that was raised: Professor Xavier's discussion about whether it would be ethical for a mutant to impose his consciousness into a comatose body. It feels like a throwaway at the time, then turns into a major sequel/plot point (if you left during the credits, you missed this). Yet it too could have been so much more: It could have led to a whole sub-theme about the extent to which a mutant can impose his gifts on a society that may not want them, but might be better off for them (the flip side to the issue of the cure).
So much waiting to be explored, and left unexplored...
Yet, while this all seems like a diss on thye movie, let me reiterate that I really, really enjoyed it. And again, what other summer blockbusters give you the opportunity to discuss, as a reader of this blog e-mailed me, the question of whether Jesus would agree with giving the mutants the cure? (My answer? No, I don't think He would agree. I think the mutations would qualify as "talents" in the parable of the talents -- gifts, albeit unusual ones, to be used in the service of good. "Can a telepath say to a walk-through-walls girl, because you are not a telepath, you are not part of the body?" No.)
I also spent some time musing on Wolverine. No, not on Hugh Jackman's shirtless-and-oiled-as-often-as-the-script-would-reasonably-allow body. But on the idea of the guy who can take every blow, even be killed -- and regenerate, self-heal from any wound. His mutation makes him less vulnerable and more vulnerable at the same time -- less vulnerable because he (presumably) can't be killed or even really injured permanently. But more vulnerable because his mutation forces him always to be on the front lines. He never gets to stay back at headquarters where it's safe(r). He has to take every blow -- yet, as we know from X I: "Does it hurt?" "Every time."
And I realized that Wolverine is the perfect metaphor for the Christian in Hollywood. We get pummelled, we get slashed, we get wounded in every way, over and over again. Yet we have to pick ourselves up, pull the weapons out of our side, take an instant (just an instant, no more) to self-heal, then throw ourselves back into the fray immediately, even though we know that we can only expect more of the same. And that it will hurt, oh so grievously hurt, every time.
And if we can't do that, over and over, if we don't have that "mutation" (or gift), we won't survive in Hollywood. Period.
So is X III a perfect movie? No. Is it the perfect execution of its concept? Sadly, no. But is it well worth 2+ hours of your time and $10 of your money? Oh, definitely, absolutely, Yes.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
MOVIE THOUGHTS: OVER THE HEDGE
I should have posted this last week, but had other things to think and talk about. So better late than never. Besides, most of you should have seen this movie already (ahem).
Over the Hedge is a delightful animated romp with hilarious scenes throughout, a solid story and performances, and even a bit of a message. We loved it, and I'd have a hard time figuring out why anyone wouldn't love it.
Going in to a DreamWorks animated movie, I sort of expect the overly hip, in-joke kind of thing we got with both Shreks and even with Madagascar. As it turns out, Over the Hedge isn't that movie. It's a much more straightforward story, and as a result, feels actually fresher than the trying-to-hard, dependent-on-in-jokes movies.
The basic situation: A group of animals awakens from hibernation to find that their habitat has been overbuilt by a new suburb, making it hard to find food. Who shows up but R.J. (a raccoon voiced by Bruce Willis), ready to "help" them forage for food in backyards, trash cans, even kitchens. However... R.J. hasn't told the other animals one little detail: The reason he's looking for food is because he swiped the winter hibernation stash of a big mean bear (Nick Nolte), who has given him a deadline to replace it all. R.J. can't possibly meet the bear's deadline on his own, so coopts the more naive animals into helping him -- and in the end, learns that what he's found in these animals is not a bunch of suckers but a real family.
The fun twist in the movie is that the villain is not, as one might expect, that bear -- but the woman who runs the homeowners association of the cookie-cutter subdivision separated from the animals only by "The Hedge." Through the animals' look at human customs, we get a skewed and very funny view of ourselves. (And trust me, funny as the trailers and TV ads are, you're not seeing the best stuff there -- I know you've already seen the "This is where they worship the food" bits, but there's much much more.) The "message" is laid on lightly, but clearly. When R.J. introduces the animals to an SUV, they ask "How many humans can it hold?" and he says "Usually, one."-- well, we get the point.
Hilarious performances in particular from William Shatner, who gets to play the "death" scene of his career -- priceless! -- as a daddy possum, from Wanda Sykes as a skunk who doesn't believe she can be loved, and especially from Steve Carell as Hammy the Squirrel.
The antics of Hammy -- already a hyper overactive mess -- once he downs an overcaffeinated energy drink are some of the most hold-on-to-your-armrests-so-you-don't-fall-on-the-floor-laughing moments I've ever seen in my life. (With not a hint of what's coming in the trailers -- good for you, DreamWorks!)... I fully expect to use these clips in a screenwriting class some time to teach how the concept of POV (point-of-view) refers to more than camera angles -- and I also fully expect to have the students lose my point completely because they will be laughing so hard.
A couple of final thoughts: It's easy to dismiss Over the Hedge as yet another talking-animal film, especially when we've recently seen (or not) The Wild (which looked distressingly similar in the ads), and Hoodwinked. This movie is funnier than both, more polished, better performances, better story. Don't feel like you've already seen it just because you've been seeing similar ads all year.
Finally -- I have been alternately amused and astonished to see, in many "othercott"-related venues, several presumably well-meaning folks commenting that they cannot go see Over the Hedge because it contains (oh, shock!) burp jokes.
Yes, it does. Two that I can remember. Both are moderately funny, are throwaway jokes -- and excuse me, but just what is wrong with burp jokes, anyway? I can only assume that the people making these comments (a) have no children (certainly have no boys!), (b) home-school their children and allow them to hang out with no normal kids, and/or (c) live in a fantasy world regarding what jokes their kids tell and laugh at on the playground.
God created the human body so that, in certain digestive environments, it makes unexpected and often humorous sounds. While one would not want to encourage one's children to create those sounds voluntarily (at least in most public venues), why would one want to deny oneself the opportunity to laugh at something that is funny? To link the issue to another movie in the news, it all smacks a bit of Gnosticism and its denial of the physical body.
Burp jokes can be funny. Get over it. (And let me contribute here our family's personal favorite burp joke, taken from Calvin & Hobbes -- Calvin lets go a riproaring burp -- his appalled mother says "Calvin, what do you say?!" -- and Calvin responds "Must be a barge coming through!"... Okay, well, in our house, that makes us laugh.)
Go see Over the Hedge and laugh.
Over the Hedge is a delightful animated romp with hilarious scenes throughout, a solid story and performances, and even a bit of a message. We loved it, and I'd have a hard time figuring out why anyone wouldn't love it.
Going in to a DreamWorks animated movie, I sort of expect the overly hip, in-joke kind of thing we got with both Shreks and even with Madagascar. As it turns out, Over the Hedge isn't that movie. It's a much more straightforward story, and as a result, feels actually fresher than the trying-to-hard, dependent-on-in-jokes movies.
The basic situation: A group of animals awakens from hibernation to find that their habitat has been overbuilt by a new suburb, making it hard to find food. Who shows up but R.J. (a raccoon voiced by Bruce Willis), ready to "help" them forage for food in backyards, trash cans, even kitchens. However... R.J. hasn't told the other animals one little detail: The reason he's looking for food is because he swiped the winter hibernation stash of a big mean bear (Nick Nolte), who has given him a deadline to replace it all. R.J. can't possibly meet the bear's deadline on his own, so coopts the more naive animals into helping him -- and in the end, learns that what he's found in these animals is not a bunch of suckers but a real family.
The fun twist in the movie is that the villain is not, as one might expect, that bear -- but the woman who runs the homeowners association of the cookie-cutter subdivision separated from the animals only by "The Hedge." Through the animals' look at human customs, we get a skewed and very funny view of ourselves. (And trust me, funny as the trailers and TV ads are, you're not seeing the best stuff there -- I know you've already seen the "This is where they worship the food" bits, but there's much much more.) The "message" is laid on lightly, but clearly. When R.J. introduces the animals to an SUV, they ask "How many humans can it hold?" and he says "Usually, one."-- well, we get the point.
Hilarious performances in particular from William Shatner, who gets to play the "death" scene of his career -- priceless! -- as a daddy possum, from Wanda Sykes as a skunk who doesn't believe she can be loved, and especially from Steve Carell as Hammy the Squirrel.
The antics of Hammy -- already a hyper overactive mess -- once he downs an overcaffeinated energy drink are some of the most hold-on-to-your-armrests-so-you-don't-fall-on-the-floor-laughing moments I've ever seen in my life. (With not a hint of what's coming in the trailers -- good for you, DreamWorks!)... I fully expect to use these clips in a screenwriting class some time to teach how the concept of POV (point-of-view) refers to more than camera angles -- and I also fully expect to have the students lose my point completely because they will be laughing so hard.
A couple of final thoughts: It's easy to dismiss Over the Hedge as yet another talking-animal film, especially when we've recently seen (or not) The Wild (which looked distressingly similar in the ads), and Hoodwinked. This movie is funnier than both, more polished, better performances, better story. Don't feel like you've already seen it just because you've been seeing similar ads all year.
Finally -- I have been alternately amused and astonished to see, in many "othercott"-related venues, several presumably well-meaning folks commenting that they cannot go see Over the Hedge because it contains (oh, shock!) burp jokes.
Yes, it does. Two that I can remember. Both are moderately funny, are throwaway jokes -- and excuse me, but just what is wrong with burp jokes, anyway? I can only assume that the people making these comments (a) have no children (certainly have no boys!), (b) home-school their children and allow them to hang out with no normal kids, and/or (c) live in a fantasy world regarding what jokes their kids tell and laugh at on the playground.
God created the human body so that, in certain digestive environments, it makes unexpected and often humorous sounds. While one would not want to encourage one's children to create those sounds voluntarily (at least in most public venues), why would one want to deny oneself the opportunity to laugh at something that is funny? To link the issue to another movie in the news, it all smacks a bit of Gnosticism and its denial of the physical body.
Burp jokes can be funny. Get over it. (And let me contribute here our family's personal favorite burp joke, taken from Calvin & Hobbes -- Calvin lets go a riproaring burp -- his appalled mother says "Calvin, what do you say?!" -- and Calvin responds "Must be a barge coming through!"... Okay, well, in our house, that makes us laugh.)
Go see Over the Hedge and laugh.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
FINALS WEEK
Most of this year's reality shows (at least the ones I watch) have wrapped up in the last week or so. Let's take a look at their finales...
American Idol
Everyone, even at Fox and at the show, was stunned by how well AI did in the ratings this season. A lot of reasons for that I think.
First, the format of the show, with its built-in audience involvement (and rooting interests) is rock solid when it comes to being designed to keep an audience.
Second, the show allows us to feel smart: We get to feel superior to the losers-who-think-they-can-sing during the auditions (which, for my money, were meaner than they should have been this season), and we get to feel like we actually know what makes a good performance once we start voting. (And this year, the "vote-for-the-worst" idiots seem to have finally given up -- The voting audience really made good choices this year. When we got to the end, I would have been happy with either contestant winning -- and I've never been able to say that before.)
Third, Fox has programmed the show brilliantly, as if it were a sport. It starts in January, after football is basically over, before baseball starts. And they're not over-scheduling it, as ABC did notoriously with Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. It builds a want-to-see, because by the time it comes back, it's been half a year since we last saw it.
Finally, it's just an enjoyable show, and unlike anything else we normally see. And this year's beautifully-produced finale brought that home in a fantastic way.
For my money, the finale Wed. night was 2 of the best hours of TV I've seen all year. I am only slightly embarrassed to admit that, not only did we record it, we've watched it twice so far (and will probably watch it one more time, since Cory didn't get to see it while in Boston).
Malcolm Gladwell, in his brilliant essay from 2004 The Ketchup Conundrum gives an excellent analysis of why there's really only one brand of ketchup that matters (as opposed to mustard): Heinz Ketchup provides a perfect balance of tastes for all our taste buds.
Well, for me, the AI finale was just that in terms of entertainment. A little bit of beauty (Kat's dresses, her breathtaking duet with -- of all people! -- Meat Loaf, etc.). A little bit of humor (the faux awards shows, "Brokenote Mountain," etc.). A little bit of glamour/celebrity (all those surprise guest stars). A little bit of suspense (who will win? -- and brilliant of Fox to minimize it, when so often the AI results shows are all fluff). A little bit of nostalgia (seeing the early castoffs from the show come back to sing -- "oh, look, it's Chicken Little!"). A little bit of raw emotion (the look on the Clay-clone's face when Clay Aiken walked out -- a moment that could have been utterly at clone-boy's expense, but instead was quite lovely; the honest appreciation of Kat and Taylor both for what they had been through).
With the vast range of guest stars (from Live to Dionne Warwick to Al Jarreau to Carrie Underwood to Meat Loaf to Burt Bacharach to Prince), I felt as if I'd been magically transported to those days sitting on the couch with my parents during the waning days of The Ed Sullivan Show. A little bit of something for everyone, and I'll put up with your country music or opera if you'll put up with my rock 'n' roll. Pretty amazing in the days when music in particular is so stratified, with no radio station playing anything that can't be rigidly and narrowly categorized as one genre and one genre only.
Like Heinz ketchup for the entertainment soul, the finale was, for me at least, a perfect balance. Would that the Oscars could strike such a balance!
...Okay, on to a brief look at the other reality finals of the last week or two... in descending order of did-they-work?
The Amazing Race
I have loved TAR since season one, but even I started to drift away with their ill-executed "Family Season" last year. I flirted with not watching this season, and may have even missed an episode or two. But I'm happy to say, TAR got its mojo back this season. Russia! Greece! Thailand! Japan! Australia! ...Finally, the true globe-trotting that we want from TAR!
I was also thrilled that BJ and Tyler, "The Hippies," won. They were so gracious to everyone along the way, especially to the natives of whatever country they were in. I loved how they learned a little of each language. And I loved their irrepressible spirit. I'm so used to getting to TAR finales and not really caring who wins. This year I had a rooting interest right up to the end. Excellent casting, TAR.
I also liked it that the final challenge wasn't (as so often) a test of speed or strength, but a test of smarts and memory. A great way to keep the final outcome in doubt up to the last seconds (usually, we already know who can win the final sprint to the finish line , and it just gets tedious).
I'm definitely back for next season. Way to come back after a disaster, Amazing Race!
The Apprentice
I know no one is watching this show anymore, but I still find it fascinating, perhaps because it's the show I can most relate to. Lee and I sit there figuring out how we would complete each task, something closer to home than, say, the obstacle courses of Survivor. I find the interpersonal interplay between the contestants fascinating, and find myself thinking about real-life business situations in terms of The Apprentice, even.
This particular season has had some great challenges, if lackluster candidates. No great rooting interest here. Most of the women were bitchy, most of the men were snotty. The show could stand to look at their casting criteria a bit harder, I think.
Can't comment on the finale, because it hasn't happened yet (hmmm... a finale outside sweeps? Not a good sign for the future of the show). Either remaining candidate, Lee or Sean, could win, I'd be equally satisfied. Like I said -- they need to work harder on their casting.
Survivor
I suspect I would list Survivor much higher on this list if I had actually watched the whole season. Despite friends telling me it was a great season, I just couldn't handle one more high-maintenance reality show in my life,and Cory really wanted to see American Inventor, which was on at the same time, so I sat out most of the season.
I did tune in for the final two shows, however, and clearly my friends were right -- this was a great season. Wish I'd seen it. I'll be back for next season.
American Inventor
This show started off strong with its fascinating auditions -- but then it started re-running them... and re-running them... and re-running them. How many times could we see that red bow come off the naked girl, anyway?! If ever there was a show that didn't deserve the endless clip shows generated here, this was it. It's as if they booked 20 hours for the show, then realized they only had 10 hours of material.
In the end, the right invention was chosen (the baby car seat -- or "survival capsule")... but by the time we got there, we'd been so bored to death, we almost didn't care.
A cool concept but a sucky execution -- I'd actually be surprised to see this show come back. If they do bring it back, (a) it will be a testament to the clout of Simon Cowell more than to the success of the show, and (b) they need to rethink it from start to finish.
...Okay, now when does the next season of Dancing With The Stars start?
American Idol
Everyone, even at Fox and at the show, was stunned by how well AI did in the ratings this season. A lot of reasons for that I think.
First, the format of the show, with its built-in audience involvement (and rooting interests) is rock solid when it comes to being designed to keep an audience.
Second, the show allows us to feel smart: We get to feel superior to the losers-who-think-they-can-sing during the auditions (which, for my money, were meaner than they should have been this season), and we get to feel like we actually know what makes a good performance once we start voting. (And this year, the "vote-for-the-worst" idiots seem to have finally given up -- The voting audience really made good choices this year. When we got to the end, I would have been happy with either contestant winning -- and I've never been able to say that before.)
Third, Fox has programmed the show brilliantly, as if it were a sport. It starts in January, after football is basically over, before baseball starts. And they're not over-scheduling it, as ABC did notoriously with Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. It builds a want-to-see, because by the time it comes back, it's been half a year since we last saw it.
Finally, it's just an enjoyable show, and unlike anything else we normally see. And this year's beautifully-produced finale brought that home in a fantastic way.
For my money, the finale Wed. night was 2 of the best hours of TV I've seen all year. I am only slightly embarrassed to admit that, not only did we record it, we've watched it twice so far (and will probably watch it one more time, since Cory didn't get to see it while in Boston).
Malcolm Gladwell, in his brilliant essay from 2004 The Ketchup Conundrum gives an excellent analysis of why there's really only one brand of ketchup that matters (as opposed to mustard): Heinz Ketchup provides a perfect balance of tastes for all our taste buds.
Well, for me, the AI finale was just that in terms of entertainment. A little bit of beauty (Kat's dresses, her breathtaking duet with -- of all people! -- Meat Loaf, etc.). A little bit of humor (the faux awards shows, "Brokenote Mountain," etc.). A little bit of glamour/celebrity (all those surprise guest stars). A little bit of suspense (who will win? -- and brilliant of Fox to minimize it, when so often the AI results shows are all fluff). A little bit of nostalgia (seeing the early castoffs from the show come back to sing -- "oh, look, it's Chicken Little!"). A little bit of raw emotion (the look on the Clay-clone's face when Clay Aiken walked out -- a moment that could have been utterly at clone-boy's expense, but instead was quite lovely; the honest appreciation of Kat and Taylor both for what they had been through).
With the vast range of guest stars (from Live to Dionne Warwick to Al Jarreau to Carrie Underwood to Meat Loaf to Burt Bacharach to Prince), I felt as if I'd been magically transported to those days sitting on the couch with my parents during the waning days of The Ed Sullivan Show. A little bit of something for everyone, and I'll put up with your country music or opera if you'll put up with my rock 'n' roll. Pretty amazing in the days when music in particular is so stratified, with no radio station playing anything that can't be rigidly and narrowly categorized as one genre and one genre only.
Like Heinz ketchup for the entertainment soul, the finale was, for me at least, a perfect balance. Would that the Oscars could strike such a balance!
...Okay, on to a brief look at the other reality finals of the last week or two... in descending order of did-they-work?
The Amazing Race
I have loved TAR since season one, but even I started to drift away with their ill-executed "Family Season" last year. I flirted with not watching this season, and may have even missed an episode or two. But I'm happy to say, TAR got its mojo back this season. Russia! Greece! Thailand! Japan! Australia! ...Finally, the true globe-trotting that we want from TAR!
I was also thrilled that BJ and Tyler, "The Hippies," won. They were so gracious to everyone along the way, especially to the natives of whatever country they were in. I loved how they learned a little of each language. And I loved their irrepressible spirit. I'm so used to getting to TAR finales and not really caring who wins. This year I had a rooting interest right up to the end. Excellent casting, TAR.
I also liked it that the final challenge wasn't (as so often) a test of speed or strength, but a test of smarts and memory. A great way to keep the final outcome in doubt up to the last seconds (usually, we already know who can win the final sprint to the finish line , and it just gets tedious).
I'm definitely back for next season. Way to come back after a disaster, Amazing Race!
The Apprentice
I know no one is watching this show anymore, but I still find it fascinating, perhaps because it's the show I can most relate to. Lee and I sit there figuring out how we would complete each task, something closer to home than, say, the obstacle courses of Survivor. I find the interpersonal interplay between the contestants fascinating, and find myself thinking about real-life business situations in terms of The Apprentice, even.
This particular season has had some great challenges, if lackluster candidates. No great rooting interest here. Most of the women were bitchy, most of the men were snotty. The show could stand to look at their casting criteria a bit harder, I think.
Can't comment on the finale, because it hasn't happened yet (hmmm... a finale outside sweeps? Not a good sign for the future of the show). Either remaining candidate, Lee or Sean, could win, I'd be equally satisfied. Like I said -- they need to work harder on their casting.
Survivor
I suspect I would list Survivor much higher on this list if I had actually watched the whole season. Despite friends telling me it was a great season, I just couldn't handle one more high-maintenance reality show in my life,and Cory really wanted to see American Inventor, which was on at the same time, so I sat out most of the season.
I did tune in for the final two shows, however, and clearly my friends were right -- this was a great season. Wish I'd seen it. I'll be back for next season.
American Inventor
This show started off strong with its fascinating auditions -- but then it started re-running them... and re-running them... and re-running them. How many times could we see that red bow come off the naked girl, anyway?! If ever there was a show that didn't deserve the endless clip shows generated here, this was it. It's as if they booked 20 hours for the show, then realized they only had 10 hours of material.
In the end, the right invention was chosen (the baby car seat -- or "survival capsule")... but by the time we got there, we'd been so bored to death, we almost didn't care.
A cool concept but a sucky execution -- I'd actually be surprised to see this show come back. If they do bring it back, (a) it will be a testament to the clout of Simon Cowell more than to the success of the show, and (b) they need to rethink it from start to finish.
...Okay, now when does the next season of Dancing With The Stars start?
Friday, May 26, 2006
"THE SAME" RIGHT BACK AT YA
What an odd, lonely week this has been.
I have been cooped up writing writing writing -- nothing particularly odd in that, I suppose. But there have been some huge holes in my life this week.
Several of the people I spend time chatting with, either online or on the phone, are out of town. One friend that I e-talk every single day, several times a day, is off in China for a few weeks. Others are on the other side of the country or the other side of the world, away from their normal communication channels.
And I'm stuck here watching my "buddy list" resolutely refuse to open any doors to let me know my friends are online. And I miss them, more than I would have expected.
To top it all off, Cory is off on his class trip to Boston and Philadelphia this week. We had to give them a phone card in case of emergencies, but they're not allowed to use their hotel phones, so really, no way to communicate.
He's been gone for a week at a time before, but somehow having him 150 miles away at church camp (and a camp where they post photos of kids online every day) seems so much closer. Maybe because it is closer. I could hope in a car and get there in a few hours if I needed to. Not that I would. But I could. Or maybe I just notice his absence more because it's amplified by the absence of so many other people.
They did have the kids call home on Tues. or Wed. night. Two minutes with a teacher's cell phone, no more, rattle off the list of what they were doing and hand the phone to the next kid. We tried to get Cory to tell us how he actually felt about the trip: Happy? Fun? Learning? Getting along? But they were pre-programmed to give us the list, and give us the list he did.
We tried to interrupt at least to say "I love you" -- and all we got in return, as a brief interruption of the what-I'm-doing list was a quick "The same."
Huh? We pulled him back to that. "The same?" The same what? Oh-- we got it. He's just too cool to say "I love you" over the phone with other kids listening in. So we asked, "are you saying 'the same' to us saying 'I love you'?" And he just said, "Yeah. The same."
I can't wait for him to come home. I can't wait for everyone to come home -- Again, I think it's so many folks being gone at the same time, added to this being a time of uncertainty and nerves here for us, a time when it would sure be nice to have those lovely, loving friends around. I don't usually get lonely. But boy, do I have a case of reverse homesickness here.
We're thinking of making Cory a big welcome home sign. It would say, "Welcome Home, Cory! The Same!" (A little private embarrassment is good for a kid, right?)
And to everyone else also out of town... "the same..."
I have been cooped up writing writing writing -- nothing particularly odd in that, I suppose. But there have been some huge holes in my life this week.
Several of the people I spend time chatting with, either online or on the phone, are out of town. One friend that I e-talk every single day, several times a day, is off in China for a few weeks. Others are on the other side of the country or the other side of the world, away from their normal communication channels.
And I'm stuck here watching my "buddy list" resolutely refuse to open any doors to let me know my friends are online. And I miss them, more than I would have expected.
To top it all off, Cory is off on his class trip to Boston and Philadelphia this week. We had to give them a phone card in case of emergencies, but they're not allowed to use their hotel phones, so really, no way to communicate.
He's been gone for a week at a time before, but somehow having him 150 miles away at church camp (and a camp where they post photos of kids online every day) seems so much closer. Maybe because it is closer. I could hope in a car and get there in a few hours if I needed to. Not that I would. But I could. Or maybe I just notice his absence more because it's amplified by the absence of so many other people.
They did have the kids call home on Tues. or Wed. night. Two minutes with a teacher's cell phone, no more, rattle off the list of what they were doing and hand the phone to the next kid. We tried to get Cory to tell us how he actually felt about the trip: Happy? Fun? Learning? Getting along? But they were pre-programmed to give us the list, and give us the list he did.
We tried to interrupt at least to say "I love you" -- and all we got in return, as a brief interruption of the what-I'm-doing list was a quick "The same."
Huh? We pulled him back to that. "The same?" The same what? Oh-- we got it. He's just too cool to say "I love you" over the phone with other kids listening in. So we asked, "are you saying 'the same' to us saying 'I love you'?" And he just said, "Yeah. The same."
I can't wait for him to come home. I can't wait for everyone to come home -- Again, I think it's so many folks being gone at the same time, added to this being a time of uncertainty and nerves here for us, a time when it would sure be nice to have those lovely, loving friends around. I don't usually get lonely. But boy, do I have a case of reverse homesickness here.
We're thinking of making Cory a big welcome home sign. It would say, "Welcome Home, Cory! The Same!" (A little private embarrassment is good for a kid, right?)
And to everyone else also out of town... "the same..."
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
THE POWER OF PRESUPPOSITION
"So you're the little woman who wrote the book that started this great war."
That's what Abraham Lincoln said to Harriet Beecher Stowe, author of Uncle Tom's Cabin, upon meeting her. Her novel made Americans more vividly aware of the horrors of slavery than any other media outlet had done before. People were moved by the book, inspired by it, in ways that all the politics, all the printed diatribes, could not do.
But Uncle Tom's Cabin was "only fiction."
D.W. Griffith's film The Birth of a Nation premiered in 1915 with its technologically ground-breaking but socially horrifying positive depiction of the Ku Klux Klan and the lynching of a black man. It sparked massive race riots across the country, and led to the rebirth of the Klan, which had been dormant since soon after the Civil War.
But Birth of a Nation was "only a movie."
Adolph Hitler wrote Mein Kampf beginning in 1925, and its sales helped fuel his rise to power. While partly a political treatise, the book also tells the story of the "struggle" (the meaning of the German word "Kampf") of Hitler and his cohorts in trying to get their views popularized. By the time Hitler ascended to full power, every German household owned a copy of the book. Historians have theorized that, had the rest of the world been reading it as well, they would have recognized the dangers posed by Nazi Germany much earlier.
But Mein Kampf was "only a book."
Sinclair Lewis wrote The Jungle in 1906. The novel about a Lithuanian immigrant whose anticipation of the American dream is crushed under the "wage-slavery" of his cruel work in a slaughterhouse led to a massive investigation of the meat-packing industry and the implementation of the Pure Food and Drug Act (in part because foreign buyers refused to buy American meat after reading the novel).
But The Jungle was "only fiction."
On a personal level, in high school, having been assiduously raised to be as anti-Christianity (and anti- all religion) as possible, I picked up a copy of The Lord of the Rings and started reading it. It burst something open in my soul, a burning desire to find in the real world something akin to what I sensed as true in the story. That desire was so strong, I finally upended everything I believed and became a Christian.
But The Lord of the Rings was "only a story."
When we buy into the presupposition "It's only fiction" (shorthand for "--and therefore not worth being taken seriously"), we buy into one of the biggest fallacies afoot in our pseudo-scientific age.
The power of story is almost unparalleled in getting people to change their beliefs, their actions, their behaviors, their opinions. When we deny its power, we (a) make ourselves more open to being manipulated by it and (b) abrogate the power available to us as storytellers.
I am a product of the stories I have read, seen, heard over the years -- the stories that I have taken into my soul and appropriated, in some way, as my own. I am a product of Lord of the Rings and Robert Heinlein and The Sound of Music and The Mary Tyler Moore Show and Star Wars and Star Trek and Harry Potter. And, for better or for worse, you are a product of the stories you have incorporated into your worldview, into your belief system, into your emotional responses, into your soul.
When I hear people dismiss The Da Vinci Code with "it's only fiction," the most charitable response I can have is to think them incredibly ignorant. (And when I hear people from the Act One community say this, I have to ask what the hell they think they're doing in Hollywood if they're so quick to deny the power of story!)
Stories change the world. Stories change our lives. As Plato said, Give me the songs of a nation and it doesn't matter who writes its laws.
The Da Vinci Code may not be well-written (book and movie). It may be false false false historically and spiritually. But it is a story with an undeniable power (50 million+ sold). It has deeply affected, and will continue to affect millions of people's attitudes, beliefs and choices.
So let's all get rid of the faulty presupposition that it doesn't really matter because "it's only fiction."
Because that's precisely why it does matter.
That's what Abraham Lincoln said to Harriet Beecher Stowe, author of Uncle Tom's Cabin, upon meeting her. Her novel made Americans more vividly aware of the horrors of slavery than any other media outlet had done before. People were moved by the book, inspired by it, in ways that all the politics, all the printed diatribes, could not do.
But Uncle Tom's Cabin was "only fiction."
D.W. Griffith's film The Birth of a Nation premiered in 1915 with its technologically ground-breaking but socially horrifying positive depiction of the Ku Klux Klan and the lynching of a black man. It sparked massive race riots across the country, and led to the rebirth of the Klan, which had been dormant since soon after the Civil War.
But Birth of a Nation was "only a movie."
Adolph Hitler wrote Mein Kampf beginning in 1925, and its sales helped fuel his rise to power. While partly a political treatise, the book also tells the story of the "struggle" (the meaning of the German word "Kampf") of Hitler and his cohorts in trying to get their views popularized. By the time Hitler ascended to full power, every German household owned a copy of the book. Historians have theorized that, had the rest of the world been reading it as well, they would have recognized the dangers posed by Nazi Germany much earlier.
But Mein Kampf was "only a book."
Sinclair Lewis wrote The Jungle in 1906. The novel about a Lithuanian immigrant whose anticipation of the American dream is crushed under the "wage-slavery" of his cruel work in a slaughterhouse led to a massive investigation of the meat-packing industry and the implementation of the Pure Food and Drug Act (in part because foreign buyers refused to buy American meat after reading the novel).
But The Jungle was "only fiction."
On a personal level, in high school, having been assiduously raised to be as anti-Christianity (and anti- all religion) as possible, I picked up a copy of The Lord of the Rings and started reading it. It burst something open in my soul, a burning desire to find in the real world something akin to what I sensed as true in the story. That desire was so strong, I finally upended everything I believed and became a Christian.
But The Lord of the Rings was "only a story."
When we buy into the presupposition "It's only fiction" (shorthand for "--and therefore not worth being taken seriously"), we buy into one of the biggest fallacies afoot in our pseudo-scientific age.
The power of story is almost unparalleled in getting people to change their beliefs, their actions, their behaviors, their opinions. When we deny its power, we (a) make ourselves more open to being manipulated by it and (b) abrogate the power available to us as storytellers.
I am a product of the stories I have read, seen, heard over the years -- the stories that I have taken into my soul and appropriated, in some way, as my own. I am a product of Lord of the Rings and Robert Heinlein and The Sound of Music and The Mary Tyler Moore Show and Star Wars and Star Trek and Harry Potter. And, for better or for worse, you are a product of the stories you have incorporated into your worldview, into your belief system, into your emotional responses, into your soul.
When I hear people dismiss The Da Vinci Code with "it's only fiction," the most charitable response I can have is to think them incredibly ignorant. (And when I hear people from the Act One community say this, I have to ask what the hell they think they're doing in Hollywood if they're so quick to deny the power of story!)
Stories change the world. Stories change our lives. As Plato said, Give me the songs of a nation and it doesn't matter who writes its laws.
The Da Vinci Code may not be well-written (book and movie). It may be false false false historically and spiritually. But it is a story with an undeniable power (50 million+ sold). It has deeply affected, and will continue to affect millions of people's attitudes, beliefs and choices.
So let's all get rid of the faulty presupposition that it doesn't really matter because "it's only fiction."
Because that's precisely why it does matter.
Monday, May 22, 2006
SARAH REVIEWS THE DA VINCI CODE
Long time friend and reader (and commenter!) of this blog, Sarah Beach, saw The Da Vinci Code Friday night at a studio screening (she works on the Sony lot and they held employee screenings). I know you've read a lot of reviews of TDVC already, but I thought Sarah's would be worth adding to the lot, as she "gets" what we've all been talking about.
Enjoy.
First off, give the devil his due. If you don't care that you don't care, DVC is an okay thriller movie. On the most basic of levels, the Good Guy beats the Bad Guy, and also finds what he's looking for. No, he doesn't get the girl, but they part on good terms. If that's all you ask of a movie, then DVC works.
(It's a sad commentary on present storytelling generally that this attitude actually seems to have some currency out there.)
But if you want to be interested in the characters, to care about them, you won't find it in this movie.
There ought to be a moment near the beginning of the film that tells the audience why they're going to like this character. Some telling moment of humor or compassion, some revelation of the deeper depths. What we get in this film is Langdom lecturing on images and symbols. Yeah, I always want to go back to boring college classes when I go to the movies. (On this occasion, since I saw it at a screening, I can't say I paid for it. But most people do want value for the time spent in the seat, value in entertainment.)
When Sophie Neveu arrives on the scene, she warns Langdon that he is suspected of the murder that opens the film, but she is so prickly and hostile that it's hard to view this as the "like this character" moment. And after her arrival, there is no more time for such moments -- we're off on the run. With two rather unappealing characters.
I know that in some ways this reflects what is in the book, but you really need such moments in a film. Watching the opening, I felt that Ron Howard was responding to this problem by saying, "I cast Tom Hanks. Isn't that enough? Everyone loves him!" My response? "Well, no. You see, I actually think that Tom Hanks is a good actor. So I actually want some emoting and connection from him. And I'm not getting it here."
So here at the beginning of the story, our "hero" is charged with murder. And does he really care about that? Not that we can see. Instead of focusing on trying to figure out who the real murderer is (Oh! Time to rewatch THE FUGITIVE!), Langdon is dragged by Sophie into solving the puzzles that the murdered man left for her. And although for much of the rest of the plot the policeman Bezu Fache is driven by trying to catch the supposed murderer, this whole aspect of the plot never seems to enter into Langdon's decisions on the few occasions when he actually makes a decision, beyond solving yet another puzzle.
And then there is the opposition: The mysterious "Teacher" who is driving events. You won't mind if I spil this for you? It's actually Sir Leigh Teabing (and what a silly name that is!), played by Sir Ian McKellen. Or overplayed. Other reviews praise his performance, but the problem for me is that the character is manically all over the map. It's the mere contrast with the either boring or severely unappealing nature of everyone else that makes the performance stand out.
I'm not kidding about "severely unappealing." The murderer Silas (a blight of an image for albinos everywhere, alas) is a true psychotic. The loving camera work expended on the details of his self-mutilation is a bit nauseating, and it comes early in the film.
When Bishop Aringarosa arrives at his so-called "shadow enclave" -- the group of Church prelates who know about "the Secret" and trying to keep it secret -- I was creeped out. They were calmly talking about murder and paying off a blackmailer (the "Teacher"). I suddenly thought, "I can tolerate this in terms of story if I think about this as a meeting of Mafia Dons. Yeah, that's it."
Now beyond all of the above on the basics of storytelling, there are some plot problems.
I know in the book the timing between the murder and Langdon's lecture is much more ambiguous, so that Fache has a little bit of reason for thinking it possible that Langdon committed the murder. I could run with that. But the movie intercuts between the two events. And unless the filmmakers clearly set up for the audience the information that the intercut events are not concurrent, the audience will automatically assume that they are concurrent.
So right up front, the audience has reason to think Fache is amazingly stupid for insisting Langdon is the killer. It would be such a simple thing to confirm that Langdom was giving a lecture at the time of the murder. Bad storytelling from the filmmakers.
A later false step in the plotting is when Fache realizes that the information that he'd gotten from Aringarosa (that Langdon was the killer) is false, that the Bishop had lied to him. Except that Fache apparently had gotten that information from the Bishop almost as soon as the body had been found. Langdon's name was written on the floor. At that time, how did the Bishop even know that Langdon was going to be involved in the plot? He couldn't possibly have known in time to insist to Fache that Langdon was indeed the killer. (It makes my head hurt trying to figure that out.)
In the "How-dumb-are-these-people-anyway?" department: Everyone talks and talks and talks about the Secret involving the descendants of Jesus and Mary Magdalene, and how "the Heir" was supposed to reveal the Secret at the turn of the millennium. After glancing references to the feminine mystic (that run stronger in the book), Teabing and Langdon keep referring to "the Heir" as "He". Duh. Hello? You do remember that Sophie's grandfather's nickname for her was "Princess Sophie"? Hello? Anyone listening? How come you needed to follow the puzzle crumbs to the lineage records to figure that out? Geesh. It is not good storytelling when the audience arrives at the answer an hour before the story does.
Now for the matters that have really been bugging people: the cause that is being pursued. The story proposes that Jesus, a descendant of a royal lineage, was merely mortal, but a great teacher. And that Mary Magdalene was his wife, who was pregnant with the (apparently only) child when he died on the cross. And of course because he was merely mortal he did not rise from the dead. Also put forward is the statement that Mary was not a redeemed prostitute but rather also descended of the royal line. That would be the line of David, by the way, King of Israel.
The proposition continues that "the Church" never believed that Jesus was divine until Emperor Constantine (never a real Christian according to this story) decided here was the needed solution to the conflict in his kingdom. Make Jesus divine, and make everyone Christian.
Then those nasty Church Christians turned on the (implied) lovely, peaceful pagans and persecuted them. Langdom tosses off a statement that questions reality by saying, "Who's to say who persecuted who first?" Yeah, right. And Nero blaming the Christians for the burning of Rome never happened, right?
So here we have the conflict: On the one side, prelates of the Church who know as a fact that Jesus had descendants and wasn't Immortal God, and who want to keep that a secret, for some unspecified reason or other. Now that's a big problem. Even a story about Mafia Dons makes it clear that the Dons love their power over people and the getting of money.
But what do these guys want? We don't know. We don't know why they're moving forward. If they know that Jesus wasn't divine, why do they stick with the institution that claims he is? Where's the logic for that? Nowhere to be found in this story.
On the other side, we have this vague organization that believes that not only was Magdalene the wife of Jesus, she was supposed to be the one who carried forward the ministry of Jesus. And here's where things really start to fall apart for me.
If the big deal was that Mary was supposed to be the leader of the Church instead of Peter, what difference would that have made? We've never told. So we have nothing to "buy" that it would have been a better fate than what tradition says we got.
And if Jesus as "just mortal," what is the importance of his bloodline? Why would that matter? If it's just about the Kingdom of Israel, that kingdom ceased with the sissolution of Israel and Judah around 70 A.DE., with the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem.
The Merovingians (Frankish rulers from about 500 to 751) claimed this sort of descent as a justification (divine right and all that). It's been used before: Augustus Caesar claimed that the Julian line was descended from heroes escaped from the destruction of Troy. But of what importance is the justification of a line of French kings to the rest of us? What consequence would the revelation of this descent have in our world?
Aside from all the other theological matters involved in the question, it would "only" mean that Jesus had descendants. It actually would say nothing at all about his divinity -- certainly not in the way his divinity is presented in this film.
A lot of blather is expended in the film to convince us that the Holy Grail is not a chalice, but rather Mary Magdalene herself. And that finding her body is the objective of the quest. Supposedly doing this would confirm Sophie's descent by DNA analysis. Why we're supposed to find this a compelling object for the quest, I don't know. The film never really told me.
That's a big problem. When a film invites us along on a quest, we really do need to know why the objective of the quest would be a good thing. We don't necessarily have to buy the premise for our real life, as I don't for, say, THE FIFTH ELEMENT. But we do have to buy that the objective would be a good thing. In THE FIFTH ELEMENT, I do buy that Leeloo stopping Evil from destroying the world would be a good thing, so I'm along for the ride. But I have no idea what the objective is here in THE DA VINCI CODE.
Beautiful cinematography of places never before seen in a movie (come on, when have you ever seen characters fleeing down the steps in front of the statue of Nike in the Louvre -- a lovely shot that is far too short and far too distantly set, actually -- is nice. A sweeping score -- although if ever music could be called "sinister," this would be, maybe because of the heartless imagery we are subjected to.
But those aren't enough to engage the audience in the story. We're kept at a distance all the way through in about every way possible. When Langdon finds the ultimate object of his quest, I did not feel uplifted at his success (which is, storywise, what
ought to occur). Instead I felt, "Well, finally we're done with that. Now I can go home."
As for all the historical errors that plague the work (both the book and the film), the latest contribution (which I understand is not in the book), is that Sir Isaac Newton was persecuted by the Church -- for his theory of gravity, no less.
Huh? Not even close! It's a particularly hilarious throwaway in the script, because shortly thereafter the plot requires Langdon and Sophie to seek out Newton's grave in, of all places, Westminster Cathedral (Hello? The "Church"?), and Langdon has to scan the very very impressive large monument that presides over the grave. Yeah. Now that's the kind of persecution I could put with receiving.
Did no one vet this script for stupid inconsistencies like that? It doesn't even hold to its own internal thought processes. (Calling it "internal logic" would elevate the thought process too much.)
Even setting aside the matter of how this story attacks the Church and the beliefs of Christians, the film is a mess of storytelling. As I said at the beginning, if you don't care that you don't care, you might enjoy the film. But I wouldn't count on it being worth the bother. That is, unless you want to study it for "How not to write or direct a screenplay."
Enjoy.
First off, give the devil his due. If you don't care that you don't care, DVC is an okay thriller movie. On the most basic of levels, the Good Guy beats the Bad Guy, and also finds what he's looking for. No, he doesn't get the girl, but they part on good terms. If that's all you ask of a movie, then DVC works.
(It's a sad commentary on present storytelling generally that this attitude actually seems to have some currency out there.)
But if you want to be interested in the characters, to care about them, you won't find it in this movie.
There ought to be a moment near the beginning of the film that tells the audience why they're going to like this character. Some telling moment of humor or compassion, some revelation of the deeper depths. What we get in this film is Langdom lecturing on images and symbols. Yeah, I always want to go back to boring college classes when I go to the movies. (On this occasion, since I saw it at a screening, I can't say I paid for it. But most people do want value for the time spent in the seat, value in entertainment.)
When Sophie Neveu arrives on the scene, she warns Langdon that he is suspected of the murder that opens the film, but she is so prickly and hostile that it's hard to view this as the "like this character" moment. And after her arrival, there is no more time for such moments -- we're off on the run. With two rather unappealing characters.
I know that in some ways this reflects what is in the book, but you really need such moments in a film. Watching the opening, I felt that Ron Howard was responding to this problem by saying, "I cast Tom Hanks. Isn't that enough? Everyone loves him!" My response? "Well, no. You see, I actually think that Tom Hanks is a good actor. So I actually want some emoting and connection from him. And I'm not getting it here."
So here at the beginning of the story, our "hero" is charged with murder. And does he really care about that? Not that we can see. Instead of focusing on trying to figure out who the real murderer is (Oh! Time to rewatch THE FUGITIVE!), Langdon is dragged by Sophie into solving the puzzles that the murdered man left for her. And although for much of the rest of the plot the policeman Bezu Fache is driven by trying to catch the supposed murderer, this whole aspect of the plot never seems to enter into Langdon's decisions on the few occasions when he actually makes a decision, beyond solving yet another puzzle.
And then there is the opposition: The mysterious "Teacher" who is driving events. You won't mind if I spil this for you? It's actually Sir Leigh Teabing (and what a silly name that is!), played by Sir Ian McKellen. Or overplayed. Other reviews praise his performance, but the problem for me is that the character is manically all over the map. It's the mere contrast with the either boring or severely unappealing nature of everyone else that makes the performance stand out.
I'm not kidding about "severely unappealing." The murderer Silas (a blight of an image for albinos everywhere, alas) is a true psychotic. The loving camera work expended on the details of his self-mutilation is a bit nauseating, and it comes early in the film.
When Bishop Aringarosa arrives at his so-called "shadow enclave" -- the group of Church prelates who know about "the Secret" and trying to keep it secret -- I was creeped out. They were calmly talking about murder and paying off a blackmailer (the "Teacher"). I suddenly thought, "I can tolerate this in terms of story if I think about this as a meeting of Mafia Dons. Yeah, that's it."
Now beyond all of the above on the basics of storytelling, there are some plot problems.
I know in the book the timing between the murder and Langdon's lecture is much more ambiguous, so that Fache has a little bit of reason for thinking it possible that Langdon committed the murder. I could run with that. But the movie intercuts between the two events. And unless the filmmakers clearly set up for the audience the information that the intercut events are not concurrent, the audience will automatically assume that they are concurrent.
So right up front, the audience has reason to think Fache is amazingly stupid for insisting Langdon is the killer. It would be such a simple thing to confirm that Langdom was giving a lecture at the time of the murder. Bad storytelling from the filmmakers.
A later false step in the plotting is when Fache realizes that the information that he'd gotten from Aringarosa (that Langdon was the killer) is false, that the Bishop had lied to him. Except that Fache apparently had gotten that information from the Bishop almost as soon as the body had been found. Langdon's name was written on the floor. At that time, how did the Bishop even know that Langdon was going to be involved in the plot? He couldn't possibly have known in time to insist to Fache that Langdon was indeed the killer. (It makes my head hurt trying to figure that out.)
In the "How-dumb-are-these-people-anyway?" department: Everyone talks and talks and talks about the Secret involving the descendants of Jesus and Mary Magdalene, and how "the Heir" was supposed to reveal the Secret at the turn of the millennium. After glancing references to the feminine mystic (that run stronger in the book), Teabing and Langdon keep referring to "the Heir" as "He". Duh. Hello? You do remember that Sophie's grandfather's nickname for her was "Princess Sophie"? Hello? Anyone listening? How come you needed to follow the puzzle crumbs to the lineage records to figure that out? Geesh. It is not good storytelling when the audience arrives at the answer an hour before the story does.
Now for the matters that have really been bugging people: the cause that is being pursued. The story proposes that Jesus, a descendant of a royal lineage, was merely mortal, but a great teacher. And that Mary Magdalene was his wife, who was pregnant with the (apparently only) child when he died on the cross. And of course because he was merely mortal he did not rise from the dead. Also put forward is the statement that Mary was not a redeemed prostitute but rather also descended of the royal line. That would be the line of David, by the way, King of Israel.
The proposition continues that "the Church" never believed that Jesus was divine until Emperor Constantine (never a real Christian according to this story) decided here was the needed solution to the conflict in his kingdom. Make Jesus divine, and make everyone Christian.
Then those nasty Church Christians turned on the (implied) lovely, peaceful pagans and persecuted them. Langdom tosses off a statement that questions reality by saying, "Who's to say who persecuted who first?" Yeah, right. And Nero blaming the Christians for the burning of Rome never happened, right?
So here we have the conflict: On the one side, prelates of the Church who know as a fact that Jesus had descendants and wasn't Immortal God, and who want to keep that a secret, for some unspecified reason or other. Now that's a big problem. Even a story about Mafia Dons makes it clear that the Dons love their power over people and the getting of money.
But what do these guys want? We don't know. We don't know why they're moving forward. If they know that Jesus wasn't divine, why do they stick with the institution that claims he is? Where's the logic for that? Nowhere to be found in this story.
On the other side, we have this vague organization that believes that not only was Magdalene the wife of Jesus, she was supposed to be the one who carried forward the ministry of Jesus. And here's where things really start to fall apart for me.
If the big deal was that Mary was supposed to be the leader of the Church instead of Peter, what difference would that have made? We've never told. So we have nothing to "buy" that it would have been a better fate than what tradition says we got.
And if Jesus as "just mortal," what is the importance of his bloodline? Why would that matter? If it's just about the Kingdom of Israel, that kingdom ceased with the sissolution of Israel and Judah around 70 A.DE., with the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem.
The Merovingians (Frankish rulers from about 500 to 751) claimed this sort of descent as a justification (divine right and all that). It's been used before: Augustus Caesar claimed that the Julian line was descended from heroes escaped from the destruction of Troy. But of what importance is the justification of a line of French kings to the rest of us? What consequence would the revelation of this descent have in our world?
Aside from all the other theological matters involved in the question, it would "only" mean that Jesus had descendants. It actually would say nothing at all about his divinity -- certainly not in the way his divinity is presented in this film.
A lot of blather is expended in the film to convince us that the Holy Grail is not a chalice, but rather Mary Magdalene herself. And that finding her body is the objective of the quest. Supposedly doing this would confirm Sophie's descent by DNA analysis. Why we're supposed to find this a compelling object for the quest, I don't know. The film never really told me.
That's a big problem. When a film invites us along on a quest, we really do need to know why the objective of the quest would be a good thing. We don't necessarily have to buy the premise for our real life, as I don't for, say, THE FIFTH ELEMENT. But we do have to buy that the objective would be a good thing. In THE FIFTH ELEMENT, I do buy that Leeloo stopping Evil from destroying the world would be a good thing, so I'm along for the ride. But I have no idea what the objective is here in THE DA VINCI CODE.
Beautiful cinematography of places never before seen in a movie (come on, when have you ever seen characters fleeing down the steps in front of the statue of Nike in the Louvre -- a lovely shot that is far too short and far too distantly set, actually -- is nice. A sweeping score -- although if ever music could be called "sinister," this would be, maybe because of the heartless imagery we are subjected to.
But those aren't enough to engage the audience in the story. We're kept at a distance all the way through in about every way possible. When Langdon finds the ultimate object of his quest, I did not feel uplifted at his success (which is, storywise, what
ought to occur). Instead I felt, "Well, finally we're done with that. Now I can go home."
As for all the historical errors that plague the work (both the book and the film), the latest contribution (which I understand is not in the book), is that Sir Isaac Newton was persecuted by the Church -- for his theory of gravity, no less.
Huh? Not even close! It's a particularly hilarious throwaway in the script, because shortly thereafter the plot requires Langdon and Sophie to seek out Newton's grave in, of all places, Westminster Cathedral (Hello? The "Church"?), and Langdon has to scan the very very impressive large monument that presides over the grave. Yeah. Now that's the kind of persecution I could put with receiving.
Did no one vet this script for stupid inconsistencies like that? It doesn't even hold to its own internal thought processes. (Calling it "internal logic" would elevate the thought process too much.)
Even setting aside the matter of how this story attacks the Church and the beliefs of Christians, the film is a mess of storytelling. As I said at the beginning, if you don't care that you don't care, you might enjoy the film. But I wouldn't count on it being worth the bother. That is, unless you want to study it for "How not to write or direct a screenplay."
Sunday, May 21, 2006
AN EXQUISITE REVIEW
My favorite box office website, Box Office Prophets, predicts a weekend take of $71 million for The Da Vinci Code and $33 million for Over the Hedge. Other box office sites are within a million or two in their predictions. We'll know some real numbers tonight.
In the meantime, here's an absolutely delightful review of DVC by A.O. Scott of the New York Times. So beautifully written, it certainly gives more enjoyment than the movie! ( I tried to input it here, but had problems with Blogger -- or AOL -- or whatever -- so please make sure you do click over and read some great writing.)
And as we wrap up the whole DVC phenomenon (which seems to be wrapping itself up quite nicely, given the stinking reviews -- 19% "fresh" on RottenTomatoes.com -- and keep in mind that Poseidon was 29% "Fresh"!), I'll have coming momentarily a review from reader/commenter Sarah Beach, as well as some ponderings on the whole thing after we get the box office numbers, plus my own thoughts on Over the Hedge.
So check back in.
In the meantime, here's an absolutely delightful review of DVC by A.O. Scott of the New York Times. So beautifully written, it certainly gives more enjoyment than the movie! ( I tried to input it here, but had problems with Blogger -- or AOL -- or whatever -- so please make sure you do click over and read some great writing.)
And as we wrap up the whole DVC phenomenon (which seems to be wrapping itself up quite nicely, given the stinking reviews -- 19% "fresh" on RottenTomatoes.com -- and keep in mind that Poseidon was 29% "Fresh"!), I'll have coming momentarily a review from reader/commenter Sarah Beach, as well as some ponderings on the whole thing after we get the box office numbers, plus my own thoughts on Over the Hedge.
So check back in.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
DRACO MALFOY: SET-UPS AND PAYOFFS
This is the last of my set-up and payoff posts -- over half a year after the first one (whew!)....
It won't be the last Harry Potter post, though. I've begun to wonder whose judgment we can really trust in the books (Hermione, who always knows so much? Ron, who blurts out what he thinks regardless? Certainly not Harry!). So I've started looking through the books with an eye to "who can we trust?" It'll be a while till I have anything to report though...
Let me just say, regarding Draco, that most of the thoughts here did not originate with me. I know the concept that Draco could be a werewolf is all over the internet. I first read it in John Granger's Barnes & Noble class last fall, and regretfully don't recall who came up with it. But I did read it before I got laid out with pneumonia, so was able to keep an eye out for it while doing my massive 'set-up and payoff' read at that time.
Am I convinced that Draco has become a werewolf? Not completely. But let's take a look at the evidence.
We first see Draco connected with werewolves in Sorcerer's Stone, when he, Harry and Neville have to do detention in the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid. Draco's biggest fear of going into the Forest is werewolves [SS-15]. Not necessarily a set-up, but if there's a payoff, then a nice subtle set-up it is.
We also have the non-canonical evidence from the movie of Prisoner of Azkaban. While I personally know too much about how movies are made to take any clues seriously from any of the movies, the fact remains that J.K. Rowling stated that there was something in that movie that made her shiver because it was so prescient of something she had not yet revealed. Some people have pointed to the moment when Draco howls like a werewolf in the movie as that instance. Maybe.
The bulk of the clues (if clues they are) about Draco's lycanthropy come, of course, in Half-Blood Prince. Let's look at the time line.
We first see Draco in Diagon Alley. He is boastful toward Madam Malkin, won't let her see his left arm [HBP-6], possibly (probably?) because there is a brand new Dark Mark on it. Draco remains boastful when he takes a detour to Knockturn Alley, where he boasts about knowing Fenrir Greyback as if he actually had some control over Fenrir [HBP-6]. We don't know who or what Fenrir is at this point, so while an obvious set-up (or pre-introduction, if you will), it doesn't seem that important.
However, we learn later that this small moment was indeed important, because JKR goes out of her way to remind us of it:
Note that, if indeed Draco is a werewolf by this point, we're distracted from that possibility by Harry's focus instead on whether Draco is a Death Eater. In a sense, this misdirection makes the set-up even potentially more important: it gives the information we need, but makes us not notice it because our attention is focused on something else.
Okay, back to the timeline of Draco's decline.
By mid-October, Draco is in detention for not finishing his Transfiguration homework [HBP-12]. Why? Is he merely distracted by his task of killing Dumbledore, or is there something else distracting him?
In December, Draco misses a Quidditch game due to an unspecified illness, something he's never done before [HBP-14]. Were JKR as fanatical about time as J.R.R. Tolkien about the phases of the moon, we might be able to put two and two together here. But alas, she's not that hot with time. So never mind.
By December, Harry notices that Draco has dark shadows under his eyes, and greyish skin [HBP-15]. Hmm. That description sounds vaguely familiar. Ah yes. As it turns out, Lupin, when recovering from his transformation, is also described as having dark shadows under his eyes [PA-10]. Are Lupin's and Draco's dark shadows for the same reason? Or is Draco just staying up too late?
And Draco doesn't get better. In April, he's described as still having that grey skin, and as having lost all his smugness and swagger [HBP-22].
We also learn about this time that Draco is suffering more than a physical ailment. First we learn that a boy has been hiding out in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He's been crying, lonely, with no one to talk to, sharing "secrets" with Myrtle [HBP-21]. A few chapters later we learn, surprisingly, that this crying boy is Draco:
The scene moves from Harry's shock quickly to Harry performing Sectumsempra on Draco -- perhaps distracting us from Draco's "He'll kill me" utterance.
But that utterance is echoed again on the top of the Lightning-Struck Tower:
The identity of "he" here is left deliberately ambiguous. We probably think initially that he's talking about Voldemort. But he could equally (and more probably) be talking about Fenrir Greyback. If so, that initial swagger he showed in boasting about his ties to Fenrir has been replaced by outright fear. Such fear, presumably, has its roots in having seen the terror Fenrir is capable of creating.
Raising the question: Did Draco just see that terror? Or did he experience it? Did he actually receive a werewolf bite? (After all, Fenrir likes to bite children, we have learned from Lupin.)
That's the basic evidence for the theory that Draco is now a werewolf. Every bit of it is consistent with Draco having been bitten.... but it is equally consistent with Draco being stressed beyond belief in trying to fulfill the mission set by "him" -- either the Dark Lord or his lieutenant Fenrir.
We don't know for sure if Draco's a werewolf -- indeed, we only have, as seen above, the subtlest of possible set-ups to that effect -- by the time Snape runs off with him at the end of HBP.
Except that Snape's sticking with Draco like that could also be a set-up to Draco's lycanthropy.
Because let's remember that Snape is one of the few people who can make the newly-invented Wolfsbane Potion which keeps a werewolf from undergoing his full transformation [PA-18].
It's not hard for us to remember this bit of information which we might have thought had lost its usefulness as of the end of Prisoner of Azkaban -- because, as with the identification of Fenrir Greyback mentioned above, JKR goes way out of her way to remind us of it three books later:
This adds a new significance to Snape protecting Draco and dragging him to safety after the Battle at Hogwarts. Sure, maybe he's just keeping his promise to Narcissa to protect Draco from harm. But really, to keep that promise, would Snape even need to remove Draco from Hogwarts? After all, Draco failed to kill Dumbledore. And to the best of anyone's knowledge, no one associated with Hogwarts even knows Draco was on that tower. Wouldn't the safest thing be to shove Draco back in the Slytherin dungeon and tell him to keep his mouth shut?
That might be safest thing were Draco 'normal.' But if Draco is a werewolf, to do so with Snape necessarily on the run would be the most dangerous thing possible. If Snape is to (continue to?) make the Wolfsbane Potion for Draco, Draco must go with him.
...So do I think Draco is a werewolf? I'm not fully convinced, but I certainly acknowledge that if he is, the set-ups are there.
I also think that Harry is going to have to forgive Draco before Book 7 is out -- forgiveness that will more likely take the form of showing pity on him in some way than standing there making an "I forgive you" speech. And we have consistently seen that when Harry can feel some pity for someone, he comes closer to being the person he should be, and letting go of his (and James's and Sirius's) old grudges.
If Draco is a werewolf, it might be much easier for Harry to feel sorry for him, rather than to want revenge on him, as he currently does [HBP-8].
I hate to end so inconclusively, but I think JKR has left this issue hanging for a reason... one not to be fully understood till Book 7.
....
That's it for the set-ups and payoffs. But I will come back with "Who can you trust?" in the not-too-distant future. Promise.
It won't be the last Harry Potter post, though. I've begun to wonder whose judgment we can really trust in the books (Hermione, who always knows so much? Ron, who blurts out what he thinks regardless? Certainly not Harry!). So I've started looking through the books with an eye to "who can we trust?" It'll be a while till I have anything to report though...
Let me just say, regarding Draco, that most of the thoughts here did not originate with me. I know the concept that Draco could be a werewolf is all over the internet. I first read it in John Granger's Barnes & Noble class last fall, and regretfully don't recall who came up with it. But I did read it before I got laid out with pneumonia, so was able to keep an eye out for it while doing my massive 'set-up and payoff' read at that time.
Am I convinced that Draco has become a werewolf? Not completely. But let's take a look at the evidence.
We first see Draco connected with werewolves in Sorcerer's Stone, when he, Harry and Neville have to do detention in the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid. Draco's biggest fear of going into the Forest is werewolves [SS-15]. Not necessarily a set-up, but if there's a payoff, then a nice subtle set-up it is.
We also have the non-canonical evidence from the movie of Prisoner of Azkaban. While I personally know too much about how movies are made to take any clues seriously from any of the movies, the fact remains that J.K. Rowling stated that there was something in that movie that made her shiver because it was so prescient of something she had not yet revealed. Some people have pointed to the moment when Draco howls like a werewolf in the movie as that instance. Maybe.
The bulk of the clues (if clues they are) about Draco's lycanthropy come, of course, in Half-Blood Prince. Let's look at the time line.
We first see Draco in Diagon Alley. He is boastful toward Madam Malkin, won't let her see his left arm [HBP-6], possibly (probably?) because there is a brand new Dark Mark on it. Draco remains boastful when he takes a detour to Knockturn Alley, where he boasts about knowing Fenrir Greyback as if he actually had some control over Fenrir [HBP-6]. We don't know who or what Fenrir is at this point, so while an obvious set-up (or pre-introduction, if you will), it doesn't seem that important.
However, we learn later that this small moment was indeed important, because JKR goes out of her way to remind us of it:
...[Harry] told [Hermione] all about Lupin's mission among the werewolves and the difficulties he was facing. "Have you heard of this Fenrir Greyback?"
"Yes, I have!" said Hermione, sounding startled. "And so have you, Harry!"
"When, History of Magic? You know full well I never listened..."
"No, no, not History of Magic -- Malfoy threatened Borgin with him!" said Hermione. "Back in Knockturn Alley, don't you remember? He told Borgin that Greyback was an old family friend and that he'd be checking up on Borgin's progress!" [HBP-17]
Note that, if indeed Draco is a werewolf by this point, we're distracted from that possibility by Harry's focus instead on whether Draco is a Death Eater. In a sense, this misdirection makes the set-up even potentially more important: it gives the information we need, but makes us not notice it because our attention is focused on something else.
Okay, back to the timeline of Draco's decline.
By mid-October, Draco is in detention for not finishing his Transfiguration homework [HBP-12]. Why? Is he merely distracted by his task of killing Dumbledore, or is there something else distracting him?
In December, Draco misses a Quidditch game due to an unspecified illness, something he's never done before [HBP-14]. Were JKR as fanatical about time as J.R.R. Tolkien about the phases of the moon, we might be able to put two and two together here. But alas, she's not that hot with time. So never mind.
By December, Harry notices that Draco has dark shadows under his eyes, and greyish skin [HBP-15]. Hmm. That description sounds vaguely familiar. Ah yes. As it turns out, Lupin, when recovering from his transformation, is also described as having dark shadows under his eyes [PA-10]. Are Lupin's and Draco's dark shadows for the same reason? Or is Draco just staying up too late?
And Draco doesn't get better. In April, he's described as still having that grey skin, and as having lost all his smugness and swagger [HBP-22].
We also learn about this time that Draco is suffering more than a physical ailment. First we learn that a boy has been hiding out in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He's been crying, lonely, with no one to talk to, sharing "secrets" with Myrtle [HBP-21]. A few chapters later we learn, surprisingly, that this crying boy is Draco:
"No one can help me," said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking. "I can't do it.... I can't.... It won't work... and unless I do it soon... he says he'll kill me....."
And Harry realized, with a shock so huge it seemed to root him to the spot, that Malfoy was crying -- actually crying -- tears streaming down his pale face into the grimy basin. Malfoy gasped and gulped and then, with a great shudder, looked up into the cracked mirror and saw Harry staring at him over his shoulder. [HBP-24]
The scene moves from Harry's shock quickly to Harry performing Sectumsempra on Draco -- perhaps distracting us from Draco's "He'll kill me" utterance.
But that utterance is echoed again on the top of the Lightning-Struck Tower:
"I haven't got any options!" said Malfoy, and he was suddenly white as Dumbledore. "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!" [HBP-27]
The identity of "he" here is left deliberately ambiguous. We probably think initially that he's talking about Voldemort. But he could equally (and more probably) be talking about Fenrir Greyback. If so, that initial swagger he showed in boasting about his ties to Fenrir has been replaced by outright fear. Such fear, presumably, has its roots in having seen the terror Fenrir is capable of creating.
Raising the question: Did Draco just see that terror? Or did he experience it? Did he actually receive a werewolf bite? (After all, Fenrir likes to bite children, we have learned from Lupin.)
That's the basic evidence for the theory that Draco is now a werewolf. Every bit of it is consistent with Draco having been bitten.... but it is equally consistent with Draco being stressed beyond belief in trying to fulfill the mission set by "him" -- either the Dark Lord or his lieutenant Fenrir.
We don't know for sure if Draco's a werewolf -- indeed, we only have, as seen above, the subtlest of possible set-ups to that effect -- by the time Snape runs off with him at the end of HBP.
Except that Snape's sticking with Draco like that could also be a set-up to Draco's lycanthropy.
Because let's remember that Snape is one of the few people who can make the newly-invented Wolfsbane Potion which keeps a werewolf from undergoing his full transformation [PA-18].
It's not hard for us to remember this bit of information which we might have thought had lost its usefulness as of the end of Prisoner of Azkaban -- because, as with the identification of Fenrir Greyback mentioned above, JKR goes way out of her way to remind us of it three books later:
"...But I do not forget that during the year I taught at Hogwarts, Severus made the Wolfsbane Potion for me every month, made it perfectly, so that I did not have to suffer as I usually do at the full moon.... We both know he wanted my job, but he could have wreaked much worse damage on me by tampering with the potion. He kept me healthy. I must be grateful." [HBP-16]
This adds a new significance to Snape protecting Draco and dragging him to safety after the Battle at Hogwarts. Sure, maybe he's just keeping his promise to Narcissa to protect Draco from harm. But really, to keep that promise, would Snape even need to remove Draco from Hogwarts? After all, Draco failed to kill Dumbledore. And to the best of anyone's knowledge, no one associated with Hogwarts even knows Draco was on that tower. Wouldn't the safest thing be to shove Draco back in the Slytherin dungeon and tell him to keep his mouth shut?
That might be safest thing were Draco 'normal.' But if Draco is a werewolf, to do so with Snape necessarily on the run would be the most dangerous thing possible. If Snape is to (continue to?) make the Wolfsbane Potion for Draco, Draco must go with him.
...So do I think Draco is a werewolf? I'm not fully convinced, but I certainly acknowledge that if he is, the set-ups are there.
I also think that Harry is going to have to forgive Draco before Book 7 is out -- forgiveness that will more likely take the form of showing pity on him in some way than standing there making an "I forgive you" speech. And we have consistently seen that when Harry can feel some pity for someone, he comes closer to being the person he should be, and letting go of his (and James's and Sirius's) old grudges.
If Draco is a werewolf, it might be much easier for Harry to feel sorry for him, rather than to want revenge on him, as he currently does [HBP-8].
I hate to end so inconclusively, but I think JKR has left this issue hanging for a reason... one not to be fully understood till Book 7.
....
That's it for the set-ups and payoffs. But I will come back with "Who can you trust?" in the not-too-distant future. Promise.
Monday, May 15, 2006
THE STATE QUIZ
Ahhh... When it's right you know it...
I have always lived in California. Born in Hollywood, even. And while I find other states often strikingly beautiful (say, Washington) or fun (say, New York), I have always come home knowing this was where I really belong. (Even though I sunburn in 9 minutes flat.)
I had a college friend who hailed from the U.K. and used to say "L.A. is a great place to live, but I wouldn't want to visit there." He's exactly right.
...So which state are you?
I have always lived in California. Born in Hollywood, even. And while I find other states often strikingly beautiful (say, Washington) or fun (say, New York), I have always come home knowing this was where I really belong. (Even though I sunburn in 9 minutes flat.)
I had a college friend who hailed from the U.K. and used to say "L.A. is a great place to live, but I wouldn't want to visit there." He's exactly right.
...So which state are you?
You're California!
In many ways, you are larger than life and almost defy description. You
certainly love to shake, rattle, and roll with the best of them. You have a generally
sunny disposition, but are capable of resorting to harsh extremes when pressed. You are
more likely than most to become rich, or famous, or perhaps both. While you have the
golden touch in so many regards, your respect for actors is a little over-zealous. This
endless faith in actors needs to be terminated.
Take the State Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
MOVIE THOUGHTS: AKEELAH AND THE BEE
We want wholesome entertainment, some cry. Entertainment we can take our kids to! And others respond, No, we want movies that make us think. Movies that challenge us. Movies that shake us up a bit as to the way the world is vs. the way it could be. And others cry out, Just give us a movie that isn't bleak and hopeless. One that makes us feel good and sends us out with a smile on our lips.
If you have ever uttered any of these sentiments, Akeelah and the Bee is the movie for you.
A very simple, rather predictable story, Akeelah is the story of a 12-year-old girl from South Central L.A. with a preternatural gift for spelling. She doesn't want to take part in her bottom-percentile school's spelling bee. But she does, and she wins. In comes Laurence Fishburne, a former National Spelling Bee whiz himself, now trapped in a lonely inner world after the loss of his own daughter, dragged in to Akeelah's life by her principal.
Fishburne coaches a sometimes recalcitrant Akeelah, whose world gradually opens up as she meets and befriends (and be-enemies as well) kids from wealthier parts of town. Her mother opposes all this spelling bee stuff, but changes her mind in the nick of time (actually during the district spelling bee, while one of Akeelah's new friends stalls in the funniest ways to save Akeelah's spot in the bee.
And off Akeelah goes to the National Spelling Bee. Does she win? What do you think?
Akeelah and the Bee is a great object lesson for me as a screenwriter and as a teacher of screenwriting. We tell our students (and ourselves) not to be "on the nose" (i.e., obvious). To be subtle, to bury the themes of our story. We try not to telegraph loud and clear where a story is going.
Well, Akeelah does all of these things we tell our students not to do. And it works. It just plain and simple works. The emotional content of the film is so honest and authentic, it just sweeps you past the obhviousness of the plot points. You see the next thing coming a mile down the road, but you really don't care, because you're rooting so hard for Akeelah and her friends. The audience we were with applauded and cheered four separate times during the movie (and after the end as well).
But it wasn't a big audience. And therein lies the rub.
Akeelah is exactly the kind of movie so many Christian clamor for. And with its tie-in to Starbucks, it was certainly well marketed. But where are the audiences?
If people don't support lovely movies like this (and like, say, The Iron Giant or A Little Princess before it), Hollywood won't make 'em. And, from their point of view, they will have made the exactly correct decision. The bottom line is: If you don't go see these movies when they come out, you can't complain that they're not making them.
So skip seeing Poseidon this weekend. Skip seeing MI3 (but you didn't need me to tell you that!). Go see Akeelah and the Bee. Quick. Before Da Vinci Code and Over the Hedge and X-Men 3 push it out and you can't even find it anymore.
A lovely lovely little movie. It made my world a better place to have seen it.
If you have ever uttered any of these sentiments, Akeelah and the Bee is the movie for you.
A very simple, rather predictable story, Akeelah is the story of a 12-year-old girl from South Central L.A. with a preternatural gift for spelling. She doesn't want to take part in her bottom-percentile school's spelling bee. But she does, and she wins. In comes Laurence Fishburne, a former National Spelling Bee whiz himself, now trapped in a lonely inner world after the loss of his own daughter, dragged in to Akeelah's life by her principal.
Fishburne coaches a sometimes recalcitrant Akeelah, whose world gradually opens up as she meets and befriends (and be-enemies as well) kids from wealthier parts of town. Her mother opposes all this spelling bee stuff, but changes her mind in the nick of time (actually during the district spelling bee, while one of Akeelah's new friends stalls in the funniest ways to save Akeelah's spot in the bee.
And off Akeelah goes to the National Spelling Bee. Does she win? What do you think?
Akeelah and the Bee is a great object lesson for me as a screenwriter and as a teacher of screenwriting. We tell our students (and ourselves) not to be "on the nose" (i.e., obvious). To be subtle, to bury the themes of our story. We try not to telegraph loud and clear where a story is going.
Well, Akeelah does all of these things we tell our students not to do. And it works. It just plain and simple works. The emotional content of the film is so honest and authentic, it just sweeps you past the obhviousness of the plot points. You see the next thing coming a mile down the road, but you really don't care, because you're rooting so hard for Akeelah and her friends. The audience we were with applauded and cheered four separate times during the movie (and after the end as well).
But it wasn't a big audience. And therein lies the rub.
Akeelah is exactly the kind of movie so many Christian clamor for. And with its tie-in to Starbucks, it was certainly well marketed. But where are the audiences?
If people don't support lovely movies like this (and like, say, The Iron Giant or A Little Princess before it), Hollywood won't make 'em. And, from their point of view, they will have made the exactly correct decision. The bottom line is: If you don't go see these movies when they come out, you can't complain that they're not making them.
So skip seeing Poseidon this weekend. Skip seeing MI3 (but you didn't need me to tell you that!). Go see Akeelah and the Bee. Quick. Before Da Vinci Code and Over the Hedge and X-Men 3 push it out and you can't even find it anymore.
A lovely lovely little movie. It made my world a better place to have seen it.
Monday, May 08, 2006
SABRINA STRIKES AGAIN
So we're watching TV the other night, and an ad for The American Haunting comes on. A very scary ad, if you ask me. But the dialogue at the top of it caught Sabrina's attention. Two little girls in bed, and one says to the other, "Do you believe in the Lord?" And the other says, "I used to, but I don't any more."
Sabrina, who was busy studying In Style magazine, looked up at that, puzzled. "I don't get it," she said.
Then the ad got way too gruesome for a 9-year-old to be watching, so I told her to turn her head away from the TV, which she did, a look of confusion on her face as she was clearly working her way through the concept of "I used to believe in the Lord..."
When the ad was over, she looked up at me and announced, "I'm not going to see that movie--"
Before I could jump in to say something like, "no way in the universe are you going to see that movie!" she completed her thought:
"I'm not going to see that movie because it disagrees with my religious beliefs."
Oh. I muttered something lame about R-rated movies and how she couldn't see it anyway. But she wasn't done.
"And I'm not going to see The Da Vinci Code either, because it also disagrees with my religious beliefs."
Mindful of all the brouhaha surrounding that hot topic, I asked meekly, "Is that a good enough reason to not see a movie?"
Sabrina looked at me with that special do-I-have-to-explain-everything-to-mom look and said, "Duh!" And went back to her study of this season's hot sandals.
All I can say is, maybe we should sit Josh McDowell and Tony Campolo down with her. They could learn a thing or two. And not just about fashion.
Sabrina, who was busy studying In Style magazine, looked up at that, puzzled. "I don't get it," she said.
Then the ad got way too gruesome for a 9-year-old to be watching, so I told her to turn her head away from the TV, which she did, a look of confusion on her face as she was clearly working her way through the concept of "I used to believe in the Lord..."
When the ad was over, she looked up at me and announced, "I'm not going to see that movie--"
Before I could jump in to say something like, "no way in the universe are you going to see that movie!" she completed her thought:
"I'm not going to see that movie because it disagrees with my religious beliefs."
Oh. I muttered something lame about R-rated movies and how she couldn't see it anyway. But she wasn't done.
"And I'm not going to see The Da Vinci Code either, because it also disagrees with my religious beliefs."
Mindful of all the brouhaha surrounding that hot topic, I asked meekly, "Is that a good enough reason to not see a movie?"
Sabrina looked at me with that special do-I-have-to-explain-everything-to-mom look and said, "Duh!" And went back to her study of this season's hot sandals.
All I can say is, maybe we should sit Josh McDowell and Tony Campolo down with her. They could learn a thing or two. And not just about fashion.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
BOOK MEME -- WHAT'S BY YOUR COMPUTER?
I have been tagged with a very simple book meme. (I like the "simple" part of it.) Here's how it works:
1. You pick the book nearest to your computer. No choosing -- whatever's nearest.
2. You turn to pg.161.
3. You find the fifth sentence on the page.
4. You post it here, along with the name of the book.
I actually have three books in a pile equidistant to my computer, so have three answers to the meme.
Book no. 1: The Bible.
On the eleventh day Pagiel son of Ocran, the leader of the people of Asher, brought his offering. (Num. 7:72)
Book no. 2: "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix."
"One sacked, one dead, one's memory removed, and one locked in a trunk for nine months," said Harry, counting them off on his fingers.
Book no. 3: "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince."
"And, let me see, another twenty for your Muggle attire."
I think this meme proves conclusively that opening a book and choosing a sentence at random is not a good way to decide anything whatsoever.
Okay, now it's your turn!
1. You pick the book nearest to your computer. No choosing -- whatever's nearest.
2. You turn to pg.161.
3. You find the fifth sentence on the page.
4. You post it here, along with the name of the book.
I actually have three books in a pile equidistant to my computer, so have three answers to the meme.
Book no. 1: The Bible.
On the eleventh day Pagiel son of Ocran, the leader of the people of Asher, brought his offering. (Num. 7:72)
Book no. 2: "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix."
"One sacked, one dead, one's memory removed, and one locked in a trunk for nine months," said Harry, counting them off on his fingers.
Book no. 3: "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince."
"And, let me see, another twenty for your Muggle attire."
I think this meme proves conclusively that opening a book and choosing a sentence at random is not a good way to decide anything whatsoever.
Okay, now it's your turn!
Friday, May 05, 2006
QUOTES OF THE BLOG
Someone e-mailed me and asked me where I get the "Quote(s) of the Month" that I post over on my sidebar here. And I have to say, the answer is either, "I don't know" or "Everywhere."
I have a little notebook in the back of my schedule that I use to write down things that I want to have with me for more than the month's duration of my actual schedule. Christmas lists go there. Records of family meetings. Notes from meetings. Prayer requests.
And many, many years ago (before my kids were born, I know that much), I started collecting quotes that struck me. I have pages and pages of them now. At random every month, I pull a quote out of my list and post it here.
But I don't really keep track of what I post when (other than to make sure I don't use the same one twice). So, by not-quite-popular request (but at least by request!), here are the quotes I've posted so far during the duration of this blog... Hope there's at least one in there you'd like to grab for your own list of quotes.
(And don't forget to let us all know which are your favorites.)
I have a little notebook in the back of my schedule that I use to write down things that I want to have with me for more than the month's duration of my actual schedule. Christmas lists go there. Records of family meetings. Notes from meetings. Prayer requests.
And many, many years ago (before my kids were born, I know that much), I started collecting quotes that struck me. I have pages and pages of them now. At random every month, I pull a quote out of my list and post it here.
But I don't really keep track of what I post when (other than to make sure I don't use the same one twice). So, by not-quite-popular request (but at least by request!), here are the quotes I've posted so far during the duration of this blog... Hope there's at least one in there you'd like to grab for your own list of quotes.
(And don't forget to let us all know which are your favorites.)
All age groups in most countries watch moving pictures, and they watch them for many more hours than ordinary people have ever spent in churches. -Bruno Bettelheim
[The goal of fiction is] to make you find that grain of truth for which you had forgotten to ask. -Joseph Conrad
What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say. -Ralph Waldo Emerson
...The secular stories with a religious tinge impressed her in having been written in such ignorance of the world that they gradually led her away from the truths of which she was hoping to coined. -Gustav Flaubert
For a Christian to say, "I will not have anything to do with the great and worthy works of artists whose lives were not good" is to fall into the impiety of questioning the wisdom of God in bestowing gifts of grace where He wills. -Frank Gaebelein
This is a business with no rules, but you break them at your peril. -Peter Guber
Fame ain't gonna cure the pain. -Dustin Hoffman
Writing is refined thinking. -Stephen King
A choir should sing in tune or it should not sing at all. -C.S. Lewis
No man who values originality will ever be original. But try to tell the truth as you see it, try to do any bit of work as well as it can be done for the work's sake, and what men call originality will come unsought. -C.S. Lewis
We tell ourselves stories in order to make sense out of life. Narrative is reassuring. There are days when life is so absurd, it's crippling -- nothing makes sense, but stories bring order to the absurdity. Relief is provided by the narrative's beginning, middle and end. -Norman Mailer
The fiction writer should be concerned with only one thing: to be hotly in pursuit of the real. -Flanner O'Connor
Art is the lie which makes us realize the truth. -Pablo Picasso
Fundamental accuracy of statement is the one sole morality of literature. -Ezra Pound
Detective stories keep alive a view of the world which ought to be true. Of course people read them for fun, for diversion.... But underneath they feed a hunger for justice, and heaven help us if ordinary people cease to feel that. -Dorothy Sayers
[Speaking about rear-view mirrors] You cannot successfully navigate the future unless you keep always framed beside it a small, clear image of the past. -J.A. Struther, aka "Mrs. Miniver"
Some things are too serious, solemn or sacred to be turned into ridicule, yet the abuses of them are certainly not. -Jonathan Swift
You cannot reason people out of something to which reason hasn't brought them. -Jonathan Swift
[The biz is] a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free and good men die like dogs. There is also a negative side. -Hunter S. Thompson
We move by a secret law of the soul to our mental image of God. -A.W. Tozer
If I can capture truth in its simplest form, beauty will follow like a sledgehammer. -Mark Twain
He so graced the ugly instrument on which he died that the cross has become the most widely exhibited and recognized symbol on earth. -Dallas Willard.
...We often wonder if the celebrities who advertise foods and beverages actually consume what they are selling.... This is the very question most pressing for those of us who speak for Christ. -Dallas Willard.
Fashion is the code language of status. -Tom Wolfe
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
THE BOOK QUIZ
Here's a fun quiz, different from most of them.
Which great book are you?
Which great book are you?
You're David Copperfield!
by Charles Dickens
Coming up from a childhood that felt abusive, you have risen through
hard work to gain a place of stature in your life. You've spent altogether too much time
in factories and end up misspelling a fair number of words. But in general you are seen
as a beacon of hope for others who might not be as fortunate. Lots of people keep
mistaking you for a magician and are waiting for you to disappear.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES
Okay, Sabrina wouldn't like it that I called her a 'babe' in the title here (unless possibly I was using the 'hottie' meaning -- oh, am I in trouble when she becomes a teenager... but I digress). But I have to share our conversation on the way home from school yesterday.
Somehow the kids asked about The Da Vinci Code -- probably saw a poster or billboard for the movie. "What's wrong with it?" they asked. So we tried to explain: It's a fun adventure kind of book, and that's okay, but unfortunately the book tells lies about God. "What kind of lies?" Well, it says, for one thing, that Jesus didn't really rise from the dead, that he didn't really die on the cross at all, but lived through it and his disciples just sneaked him away. ("Well, that's just stupid," Cory snorted.)
"What else?" they wanted to know. So we explained that the book says that Jesus and Mary Magdalene got married and had kids, another lie. And this one provoked a huge gasp from Sabrina. "No!" she insisted. "Jesus wouldn't do that, because it would be making Mary Magdalene higher!" she said.
What do you mean, I asked. And she said, "Jesus loves everyone the same, so he couldn't marry anyone, because that would be making that person that he married better than everyone else. He would have to marry everyone if he was going to marry anyone at all!"
Let me just say, they don't teach about the church as the Bride of Christ in 3rd grade Sunday school. Sabrina came up with that all on her own. (I did take the opportunity to explain the concept of the Bride of Christ.)
But props to Sabrina for coming up with, instinctively, yet another problem with TDVC -- it not only denies the divinity of Christ (as if that weren't enough), it denies His love.
Out of the mouths of babes.....
Somehow the kids asked about The Da Vinci Code -- probably saw a poster or billboard for the movie. "What's wrong with it?" they asked. So we tried to explain: It's a fun adventure kind of book, and that's okay, but unfortunately the book tells lies about God. "What kind of lies?" Well, it says, for one thing, that Jesus didn't really rise from the dead, that he didn't really die on the cross at all, but lived through it and his disciples just sneaked him away. ("Well, that's just stupid," Cory snorted.)
"What else?" they wanted to know. So we explained that the book says that Jesus and Mary Magdalene got married and had kids, another lie. And this one provoked a huge gasp from Sabrina. "No!" she insisted. "Jesus wouldn't do that, because it would be making Mary Magdalene higher!" she said.
What do you mean, I asked. And she said, "Jesus loves everyone the same, so he couldn't marry anyone, because that would be making that person that he married better than everyone else. He would have to marry everyone if he was going to marry anyone at all!"
Let me just say, they don't teach about the church as the Bride of Christ in 3rd grade Sunday school. Sabrina came up with that all on her own. (I did take the opportunity to explain the concept of the Bride of Christ.)
But props to Sabrina for coming up with, instinctively, yet another problem with TDVC -- it not only denies the divinity of Christ (as if that weren't enough), it denies His love.
Out of the mouths of babes.....
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