Primrose Everdeen (Willow Shields) has nothing to worry about. At least, that's what her older sister Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) says. Primrose's name is only in the Reaping once - which means she has a very, very small chance of being selected to participate in the Hunger Games. But when the fateful day comes, Primrose's name is the one pulled out of the glass bowl. Katniss immediately volunteers to take her little sister's place. And, just like that, she and Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) are whisked away from dirt-poor District 12 to the sparkling Capitol. In a few short days, they find themselves inside an arena with twenty-two other young men and women in a fight to the death - the Hunger Games. But Katniss is determined to come through alive. After all, she promised her sister that she would do everything she could to win.
A good movie adaptation should always try to stay close to its source material. Unfortunately, the definition of "close" can be disputed when the two media are as different as books and movies. But no matter what definition one uses, The Hunger Games movie is very close to the book.
After the text in the beginning of the movie explains the concept behind the Games, the intensity jumps in and completely takes over. Right from the outset, terror reigns supreme. Primrose is terrified of being chosen, and though Katniss gently comforts her, the overall impression of the scene is one of entrapment in a cruel, unfair situation with an undertone of fear. This continues throughout the movie, getting successively amped up as the story develops. Considering that the book has a similar level of intensity (though not as immediate), this was quite an achievement for the filmmakers.
The level of intensity is not the only similarity between the movie and the book. The story is virtually identical, which is to be expected when one considers that Suzanne Collins, the author, helped write the screenplay. However, the most startingly accurate part is the characters. The casting job was about as perfect as it could be. Haymitch (Woody Harrelson) is maybe a little better looking than I would have made him, but everybody else is pretty much spot-on. Jennifer Lawrence, one of the best actresses I have ever seen, is Katniss to a T. Josh Hutcherson is gentle Peeta - but with a masculine side that could easily have been left out. Liam Hemsworth plays a strong, rebellious Gale. Even Donald Sutherland is good in his part. (Of course, bad actors are particularly good at exuding insincerity, so don't go thinking that this is an Academy-Award-worthy performance.)
However, while the story and characters don't deviate one iota from the book, there are a few themes left by the wayside. For example, the Capitol still exerts complete (or nearly complete) control over its citizens. But the Capitol as a mysterious, almost omnipotent - and almost faceless - power just doesn't exist in the movie. Whereas in the book the leaders are seen by Katniss from afar and only occasionally, these same leaders have their own scenes in the movie. This lowers the creepy sense of "The Capitol" that makes it akin to "Them" or "The Others." In other words, the sense of a looming, unseen (and, therefore, unassessed) power is largely gone.
Generally, I like to watch movies before I read the books on which they're based. Because books are nearly always much better than their movies, I get to enjoy the same story twice without being disappointed by the second version. But this movie is very, very close to the book - and is therefore not a disappointment. Because of this, Suzanne Collins's The Hunger Games should be read before watching this movie. The book has much more depth - and explains things barely touched upon by the movie. On the other hand, while the movie doesn't quite live up to the book, it's still an enjoyable experience. That is, if your hands don't lock up after gripping the arms of your seat for two hours and twenty minutes.
Note: Since such a big deal has been made of it, I think I should address the issue of the violence. Is it too violent for a tweenager? Definitely. But I wouldn't go so far as to slap an "R" rating on it. There's a little blood, spears, necks broken by hands, and other kinds of violence. Much of it is hand-to-hand. But most of it is also filmed with a jerky camera or not quite seen. Because it doesn't have the same psychological terror associated with it, I would say that this movie is not as violent as The Dark Knight. But then, that's not saying a whole lot.
My Rating: T/MT (violence, intensity)
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Great Expectations (2011)
Pip (Douglas Booth) is a rather ordinary little boy. He lives with his sister and her husband, a blacksmith, and wants nothing more than to follow his brother-in-law into the trade. Then his entire life changes. First he encounters an escaped, chained convict named Magwitch (Ray Winstone), who makes Pip steal a file from the forge. He obliges out of fear, but he also brings along a piece of pie. Then Miss Havisham (Gillian Anderson), a great lady, asks him to her house to play with her adopted daughter Estella (Vanessa Kirby). Though his life may have been unexciting before, young Pip now has great expectations for the future.
This movie is very, very well done. Though a little dark and weird in the first hour (my sister says that grown Pip looks like a vampire in that part; I don't disagree), it brightens up with Pip's expectations. The acting, writing, and directing are all par with most British mini-series. In other words, they're fantastic. But even more than the production value, the filmmakers' decision to make it into a character study of nearly all the characters in the film makes it a worthwhile movie.
The entire focus of this version of Great Expectations is on the characters. It doesn't wallow in Pip's bad circumstances, and neither does it depict the story as a slow, painful descent into deeper and darker places. (In other words, it's nothing like the 1999 version with Ioan Gruffudd.) Instead, the filmmakers, sometimes lovingly and sometimes callously, push aside the well-known story in favor of the well-known but often neglected characters.
"Neglected" is not a word generally used to describe the character of Miss Havisham - even those who have not read the book know who she is. But any real complexity in her character seems to be overlooked in favor of the basic idea of her: She's a cold woman out for revenge on men. In contrast, this version of the film embodies her in an entirely different way. In this version, she is a woman whose anger never really allowed her to grow up. Her high-pitched voice, curled hair, thin body, and nervous habits together help to create the impression that she is a child possessed by childish rage. For another example, the sneaking, evil Orlick (Jack Roth) is small, thin, and looks almost like a wild animal - a wild animal tired of being chained and mocked. Pip looks the very picture of innocent youth. The list could go on, I believe, until every character in the movie has been listed.
The material point, to put it in the immortal words of I-don't-remember-which-BBC-movie-character, is that Great Expectations is about its people. There's certainly a story (complete with the requisite Dickens twists), but the story is dependent on the characters' choices and interactions, not the other way around. Ultimately, the point of Great Expectations is to show which people are, at heart, good and which are bad. Who can receive redemption, and whose heart is simply too black to even want it? Who is willing to change to receive it? You'll have to watch the movie to find out.
Note: Since I haven't read the book in years, I can't comment on how faithful this movie is. I've heard that it's not particularly close to Dickens' original - so purists beware!
My Rating: T (mild sexual content, sexual references, spooky images)
This movie is very, very well done. Though a little dark and weird in the first hour (my sister says that grown Pip looks like a vampire in that part; I don't disagree), it brightens up with Pip's expectations. The acting, writing, and directing are all par with most British mini-series. In other words, they're fantastic. But even more than the production value, the filmmakers' decision to make it into a character study of nearly all the characters in the film makes it a worthwhile movie.
The entire focus of this version of Great Expectations is on the characters. It doesn't wallow in Pip's bad circumstances, and neither does it depict the story as a slow, painful descent into deeper and darker places. (In other words, it's nothing like the 1999 version with Ioan Gruffudd.) Instead, the filmmakers, sometimes lovingly and sometimes callously, push aside the well-known story in favor of the well-known but often neglected characters.
"Neglected" is not a word generally used to describe the character of Miss Havisham - even those who have not read the book know who she is. But any real complexity in her character seems to be overlooked in favor of the basic idea of her: She's a cold woman out for revenge on men. In contrast, this version of the film embodies her in an entirely different way. In this version, she is a woman whose anger never really allowed her to grow up. Her high-pitched voice, curled hair, thin body, and nervous habits together help to create the impression that she is a child possessed by childish rage. For another example, the sneaking, evil Orlick (Jack Roth) is small, thin, and looks almost like a wild animal - a wild animal tired of being chained and mocked. Pip looks the very picture of innocent youth. The list could go on, I believe, until every character in the movie has been listed.
The material point, to put it in the immortal words of I-don't-remember-which-BBC-movie-character, is that Great Expectations is about its people. There's certainly a story (complete with the requisite Dickens twists), but the story is dependent on the characters' choices and interactions, not the other way around. Ultimately, the point of Great Expectations is to show which people are, at heart, good and which are bad. Who can receive redemption, and whose heart is simply too black to even want it? Who is willing to change to receive it? You'll have to watch the movie to find out.
Note: Since I haven't read the book in years, I can't comment on how faithful this movie is. I've heard that it's not particularly close to Dickens' original - so purists beware!
My Rating: T (mild sexual content, sexual references, spooky images)
Friday, April 20, 2012
Yeah, What She Said
"The Founding Fathers had it right: the greatest threat to liberty is a meddlesome government. This is especially true when many persons look to the government to solve problems caused by human vices. Such problems have never, will never, and can never be solved by governments."
~Ruth Pakaluk, in a 1993 letter to Senator Edward M. Kennedy. Printed in The Appalling Strangeness of the Mercy of God: The Story of Ruth Pakaluk, Convert, Mother, Pro-Life Activist, edited by Michael Pakaluk.
~Ruth Pakaluk, in a 1993 letter to Senator Edward M. Kennedy. Printed in The Appalling Strangeness of the Mercy of God: The Story of Ruth Pakaluk, Convert, Mother, Pro-Life Activist, edited by Michael Pakaluk.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
The Madonna's Secret (1946)
James Corbin (Francis Lederer) has a deep, dark secret. Two, actually. The first is that the woman in his paintings is not his model, Helen North (Linda Stirling). The body might be, but the face is the face of a woman from his past. The second is that his name is not really Corbin. It's Corbet. The rather infamous Corbet who was tried for and acquitted of murdering his first model - the woman in his paintings. Then Helen turns up dead on the river and the questions begin again. Determined to discover his secrets, Helen's actress sister named Linda (Ann Rutherford) gets herself hired as Corbin's latest model. As time goes on, she finds herself stepping deeper and deeper into murky waters. What kind of man is this brooding, talented artist? Is he a murderer? Or is some unknown enemy trying to frame him?
This is a fairly impressive movie, considering when it was filmed. The production values are decent. It seems to be an odd sort of cross between the film noir genre and an Agatha Christie story. Definitely dark, dramatic, and a little bit of a psychological thriller in parts, it still manages to hold onto a bit of the good old-fashioned mystery story.
Taken as a forties B movie, the acting and especially the writing are pretty good. Lederer plays a marvelous Corbin (with the exception of a few rather strangely-directed scenes), and Rutherford pulls off sweet and spunky Linda better than a lot of actresses I've seen. The exposition is particularly well done. In general, conversations reveal only as much as the viewer needs to know. On top of that, I never felt like I was listening to a voice-over. (Well, except for the opening line. But that really is a voice-over.) The Madonna's Secret shows the story as it is without taking the time to make sure everybody knows exactly what's going on at all times. That's part of the charm of the film noir genre: One can never be too sure that one didn't miss something important.
The other film noir elements in this movie are pretty obvious. It's dark, with a conflicted main character (who may or may not be bad) and a girl who ultimately finds herself in over her head. There's also a sexy temptress and, of course, crime in the mix. But the crime part is also a bit like an Agatha Christie murder mystery as well. Clues are established as to who might be killing these girls, but these clues are subtle enough that they don't construct neon signs pointing to the murderer. (At least, I hope not. I totally missed them until the last scene of the movie. Of course, that could be because I didn't want to think that that person was the murderer. But I'd better shut up now; that's getting into spoiler territory.)
Judged by the standards of its peers (both in time and in genre), this movie is pretty decent. The production values are impressively high for such an old and evidently cheap movie, and the slight mixing of genres is interesting and well-done enough to earn The Madonna's Secret a spot on the list of old movies that are worth someone's time.
My Rating: T (frightening scenes, thematic elements)
This is a fairly impressive movie, considering when it was filmed. The production values are decent. It seems to be an odd sort of cross between the film noir genre and an Agatha Christie story. Definitely dark, dramatic, and a little bit of a psychological thriller in parts, it still manages to hold onto a bit of the good old-fashioned mystery story.
Taken as a forties B movie, the acting and especially the writing are pretty good. Lederer plays a marvelous Corbin (with the exception of a few rather strangely-directed scenes), and Rutherford pulls off sweet and spunky Linda better than a lot of actresses I've seen. The exposition is particularly well done. In general, conversations reveal only as much as the viewer needs to know. On top of that, I never felt like I was listening to a voice-over. (Well, except for the opening line. But that really is a voice-over.) The Madonna's Secret shows the story as it is without taking the time to make sure everybody knows exactly what's going on at all times. That's part of the charm of the film noir genre: One can never be too sure that one didn't miss something important.
The other film noir elements in this movie are pretty obvious. It's dark, with a conflicted main character (who may or may not be bad) and a girl who ultimately finds herself in over her head. There's also a sexy temptress and, of course, crime in the mix. But the crime part is also a bit like an Agatha Christie murder mystery as well. Clues are established as to who might be killing these girls, but these clues are subtle enough that they don't construct neon signs pointing to the murderer. (At least, I hope not. I totally missed them until the last scene of the movie. Of course, that could be because I didn't want to think that that person was the murderer. But I'd better shut up now; that's getting into spoiler territory.)
Judged by the standards of its peers (both in time and in genre), this movie is pretty decent. The production values are impressively high for such an old and evidently cheap movie, and the slight mixing of genres is interesting and well-done enough to earn The Madonna's Secret a spot on the list of old movies that are worth someone's time.
My Rating: T (frightening scenes, thematic elements)
Sunday, April 8, 2012
He Is Risen!
Jesus Christ, the King of glory,
Lord of goodness, love and light,
Victor over death and evil,
Rose in majesty and might. Alleluia!
As the Saints in Heaven praise Him
With their joyful Easter song,
So on earth, you faithful servants,
Honor Him with heart and tongue. Alleluia!
~Translation of a Traditional Spanish Hymn
Lord of goodness, love and light,
Victor over death and evil,
Rose in majesty and might. Alleluia!
As the Saints in Heaven praise Him
With their joyful Easter song,
So on earth, you faithful servants,
Honor Him with heart and tongue. Alleluia!
~Translation of a Traditional Spanish Hymn
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Onegin (1999)
Onegin (Ralph Fiennes) is a lonely, bored, spoilt aristocrat. He has no real friends, a cash supply that can no longer support his decadent lifestyle, and absolutely no goals in life. Then his uncle dies and leaves him an inheritance that includes both money and a country estate. Onegin leaves St. Petersburg for this estate - and, once there, decides to stay. Suddenly life seems better. He makes a close friend and meets a beautiful young lady named Natalya (Liv Tyler). Can a man ever really change? Or does a long life of sophistication and pride leave him without the backbone to alter his future?
This movie really hasn't much story development. At least, compared with the five to eight hour masterpieces made by the BBC. Suffice it to say that the novel on which Onegin is based was written in verse - and that this is highly appropriate in light of the poetic justice that is meted out at the end. Choices - some good and some bad - are paramount. This is true with the choices made by the filmmakers as well.
Onegin moves at a dreamlike pace in parts. The movie is really only about an hour and forty-five minutes long, but it seems much longer. This is helped in part by the frequent use of slow-motion filming. In general, slow motion should not be used in movies. It jerks the viewer out of the movie and into his/her seat and lends a very melodramatic atmosphere to whatever scene upon which it has been inflicted. The slow motion in Onegin, on the other hand, is sometimes used in good taste. Feelings like boredom and despair are portrayed well by the use of slow motion. But the technique is used too frequently, and it becomes evident that slow motion is being used to create the illusion of a longer movie.
Having said all that, one of the most redeeming qualities of the movie is that it is visually quite pretty. The filmmakes chose Liv Tyler as the lead female role. Normally a bad actress and a bit strange looking, she fits Tatyana's part perfectly and is absolutely gorgeous. Her clothes and hair are stunning throughout the movie. She shines particularly brightly in the last few scenes of the movie, when her hair is not as severely twisted and her clothes are richer in color and texture. The choice of setting is very pretty as well. The Russian countryside is beautiful in both the winter and summer scenes.
Finally, the filmmakers chose to convey as much as possible visually and through dialogues that would naturally take place. For example, we see rather than are told that Onegin is a ladies' man (although I personally think this could have been left out, it's handled rather delicately). Later, Tatyana speaks of her troubles to no one, but what passes through her mind is evident by what she does (again, this could have been skipped or shown in a more family-friendly way). This is a good approach for a filmmaker to take. There are few things in movies that are more cringe-inducing than when unnatural dialogue, which would never have taken place in real life, is used to explain to the viewer certain plots developments. Like slow motion filming, such unnatural dialogue almost inevitably tears the viewer from the story.
In all, Onegin is a strange mixture of good and bad choices. This is evident in the story (which I will not reveal for spoiler reasons), but it is also evident in the way in which the filmmakers made the movie. The slow motion is sometimes effective - and sometimes not. The use of "show, don't tell" is effective - but also a bit risqué. In other words, it's a flawed but interesting movie, perfect for anyone willing to spend a slice of time on watching the consequences of choice.
My Rating: MT (bedroom scene between a man and wife, sexual content, sexual references , violence)
Note: Could be appropriate for younger teens if a few scenes are skipped
This movie really hasn't much story development. At least, compared with the five to eight hour masterpieces made by the BBC. Suffice it to say that the novel on which Onegin is based was written in verse - and that this is highly appropriate in light of the poetic justice that is meted out at the end. Choices - some good and some bad - are paramount. This is true with the choices made by the filmmakers as well.
Onegin moves at a dreamlike pace in parts. The movie is really only about an hour and forty-five minutes long, but it seems much longer. This is helped in part by the frequent use of slow-motion filming. In general, slow motion should not be used in movies. It jerks the viewer out of the movie and into his/her seat and lends a very melodramatic atmosphere to whatever scene upon which it has been inflicted. The slow motion in Onegin, on the other hand, is sometimes used in good taste. Feelings like boredom and despair are portrayed well by the use of slow motion. But the technique is used too frequently, and it becomes evident that slow motion is being used to create the illusion of a longer movie.
Having said all that, one of the most redeeming qualities of the movie is that it is visually quite pretty. The filmmakes chose Liv Tyler as the lead female role. Normally a bad actress and a bit strange looking, she fits Tatyana's part perfectly and is absolutely gorgeous. Her clothes and hair are stunning throughout the movie. She shines particularly brightly in the last few scenes of the movie, when her hair is not as severely twisted and her clothes are richer in color and texture. The choice of setting is very pretty as well. The Russian countryside is beautiful in both the winter and summer scenes.
Finally, the filmmakers chose to convey as much as possible visually and through dialogues that would naturally take place. For example, we see rather than are told that Onegin is a ladies' man (although I personally think this could have been left out, it's handled rather delicately). Later, Tatyana speaks of her troubles to no one, but what passes through her mind is evident by what she does (again, this could have been skipped or shown in a more family-friendly way). This is a good approach for a filmmaker to take. There are few things in movies that are more cringe-inducing than when unnatural dialogue, which would never have taken place in real life, is used to explain to the viewer certain plots developments. Like slow motion filming, such unnatural dialogue almost inevitably tears the viewer from the story.
In all, Onegin is a strange mixture of good and bad choices. This is evident in the story (which I will not reveal for spoiler reasons), but it is also evident in the way in which the filmmakers made the movie. The slow motion is sometimes effective - and sometimes not. The use of "show, don't tell" is effective - but also a bit risqué. In other words, it's a flawed but interesting movie, perfect for anyone willing to spend a slice of time on watching the consequences of choice.
My Rating: MT (bedroom scene between a man and wife, sexual content, sexual references , violence)
Note: Could be appropriate for younger teens if a few scenes are skipped
Friday, March 30, 2012
What Makes a Good Book? Part 1
(Disclaimer: This series of posts is about fiction alone. Nonfiction is a whole other cup of tea.)
It's pretty easy to judge books. This one's good, that one's bad, the other is so-so. But, when asked to define a good book or a bad book, we often cannot come up with anything really intelligent. Some people say it depends on the characters... but then, who hasn't read a good book that also has rotten characters? Or what about a plot? Again, there are many good books that have indifferent plots. Bad books mirror good ones; they can have good characters or plots. So what really separates the good from the bad? The short answer is: A little bit of everything. But, since this is a blog and not a twitter account, I'll expand on that. This first post will focus on the most important thing a good book must have: A good moral foundation.
Nothing that is rotten at the core can be good. Books are no exception. For example, Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials series is about as rotten as they can be. From what I remember, they are fairly well written. I certainly enjoyed them... right up to the moment when I realized he was attacking my faith. Ultimately, the whole rancid trilogy is about how God doesn't really exist. He is a myth that has been invented to keep people in chains, blah, blah, blah. And kids should escape from His "tyranny" by... having sex. Well, at least by breaking the moral boundaries set by God. Since Chrisian ideas of the sacredness of sex are the things on which most atheists are fixated, having sex is the easiest (and most shocking) way for the kids to break away. The ultimate message of the book is rotten, and, by extension, whether it is well written or not is entirely irrelevant.
On the other hand, good books are built around a good core. Just one example of this is Michelle Buckman's Rachel's Contrition. In this story, a young woman with a dark past is troubled by depression and a host of other problems. But, with the help of other broken souls, she finds her way to a better place. Through the murky depths of addiction, loss, suffering, and sexual abuse of many kinds, the bright light of redemption shines through this book like a beam of sunlight on a rainy day. This beam casts a rainbow, reminding readers that God has promised to help all who seek His face. Now, this book is definitely well written. But, as has been established, it is its beautiful core that is the ultimate factor in whether or not it is a good book.
In short, where Pullman attempts to pull readers away from God, Buckman bucks them up with reminders of the vastness of God's mercy and of the beauty that exists in even very troubled souls. (Forgive the puns; I couldn't resist.) Whereas the one book is built on a foundation of hatred and lies, the other is supported by the strong arms of love and truth. Regardless of whether a book is well-written or not, it must have a good moral foundation in order to be good.
It's pretty easy to judge books. This one's good, that one's bad, the other is so-so. But, when asked to define a good book or a bad book, we often cannot come up with anything really intelligent. Some people say it depends on the characters... but then, who hasn't read a good book that also has rotten characters? Or what about a plot? Again, there are many good books that have indifferent plots. Bad books mirror good ones; they can have good characters or plots. So what really separates the good from the bad? The short answer is: A little bit of everything. But, since this is a blog and not a twitter account, I'll expand on that. This first post will focus on the most important thing a good book must have: A good moral foundation.
Nothing that is rotten at the core can be good. Books are no exception. For example, Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials series is about as rotten as they can be. From what I remember, they are fairly well written. I certainly enjoyed them... right up to the moment when I realized he was attacking my faith. Ultimately, the whole rancid trilogy is about how God doesn't really exist. He is a myth that has been invented to keep people in chains, blah, blah, blah. And kids should escape from His "tyranny" by... having sex. Well, at least by breaking the moral boundaries set by God. Since Chrisian ideas of the sacredness of sex are the things on which most atheists are fixated, having sex is the easiest (and most shocking) way for the kids to break away. The ultimate message of the book is rotten, and, by extension, whether it is well written or not is entirely irrelevant.
On the other hand, good books are built around a good core. Just one example of this is Michelle Buckman's Rachel's Contrition. In this story, a young woman with a dark past is troubled by depression and a host of other problems. But, with the help of other broken souls, she finds her way to a better place. Through the murky depths of addiction, loss, suffering, and sexual abuse of many kinds, the bright light of redemption shines through this book like a beam of sunlight on a rainy day. This beam casts a rainbow, reminding readers that God has promised to help all who seek His face. Now, this book is definitely well written. But, as has been established, it is its beautiful core that is the ultimate factor in whether or not it is a good book.
In short, where Pullman attempts to pull readers away from God, Buckman bucks them up with reminders of the vastness of God's mercy and of the beauty that exists in even very troubled souls. (Forgive the puns; I couldn't resist.) Whereas the one book is built on a foundation of hatred and lies, the other is supported by the strong arms of love and truth. Regardless of whether a book is well-written or not, it must have a good moral foundation in order to be good.
What's in a Name?
So here's a list of names that Disney was considering for the dwarfs in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Some of them are hopelessly dated; Dippy, Neurtsy, Sappy, and Jaunty are a few that would never fly nowadays. Daffy never would have worked (although I love that name, and the word is fun), but Dizzy and Hungry would have made funny characters.
Interestingly enough, neither of the additional dwarf names from ABC's Once Upon a Time - Stealthy and Dreamy - are on the list. (For the record, I think Dreamy is a really stupid name. Particularly for a dwarf.)
Interestingly enough, neither of the additional dwarf names from ABC's Once Upon a Time - Stealthy and Dreamy - are on the list. (For the record, I think Dreamy is a really stupid name. Particularly for a dwarf.)
Friday, March 23, 2012
What Wonderful Timing...
... Considering the war for religious freedom that is going on right now.
The lack of internet information about this movie is really disappointing. I've been trying to follow its progress for almost a year but have found very little. Since Eduardo Verástegui and Andy Garcia are in it, it may actually be well done - something that is a rarity in Christian/Catholic films these days. Furthermore, it's a seemingly realistic look at the Mexican Revolution, which (naturally) established an anti-Catholic regime. That sort of treatment of revolutions and their subsequent governments is very unusual. People often ignore the French Revolution and whitewash the Spanish Revolution, two bloody revolts that were anti-Catholic as well as anti-regime. For Greater Glory looks very promising, indeed.
The lack of internet information about this movie is really disappointing. I've been trying to follow its progress for almost a year but have found very little. Since Eduardo Verástegui and Andy Garcia are in it, it may actually be well done - something that is a rarity in Christian/Catholic films these days. Furthermore, it's a seemingly realistic look at the Mexican Revolution, which (naturally) established an anti-Catholic regime. That sort of treatment of revolutions and their subsequent governments is very unusual. People often ignore the French Revolution and whitewash the Spanish Revolution, two bloody revolts that were anti-Catholic as well as anti-regime. For Greater Glory looks very promising, indeed.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Except the Dying
(Written by Maureen Jennings. First book in the Murdoch Mysteries series.) Detective William Murdoch of the Toronto Constabulary has quite a case on his hands. A servant girl was found dead in the snow - sans clothing. To make matters more complicated, she was pregnant. Where was she going on such a bitter night without a carriage? Why did she just lie down and die? Doesn't anyone know anything about her last few hours? And, most importantly, did someone help her to her death?
On a "Good Book" scale of one to ten, this ranks at about a two. The only reasons it doesn't reach lower are: Its good Victorian flavor and its lack of sex scenes. Other than that, there is really no reason why someone would want to read this book. The characters are generally either boring or annoying, the story is very much a cliché, and there is enough innuendo to stuff a mattress.
First, the characters. Now, I've seen most of the episodes from the first season of the Canadian television adaptation of this series of books. During that time, I fell in love with every one of the regular characters: Awkward but hard-working Constable Crabtree, gruff and humorous Inspector Brackenreid, professional and ladylike pathologist Doctor Ogden, and especially Murdoch, with his strong Catholic faith, shy nature, and head in the clouds of science. Then I read this book. Murdoch is totally different; none of the words I used to describe him would really apply. He's Catholic, though not particularly faithful, more disapproving than shy, and doesn't seem to be quite as involved in science. Constable Crabtree, instead of an awkward little bachelor, is a youngish married man with three kids. The Inspector, who hates politics in the shows, is fond of kissing up to various people in high places in the book. Doctor Ogden isn't even a character yet, although I am told she comes into the series later. In short, the characters were very much improved upon in the television series.
Next, the very straightforward story. Well, a young servant girl gets pregnant, and, although the culprit is unknown, it's pretty obvious that the man involved is the killer. Might it be the stable boy? Don't be ridiculous. What about the housekeeper's husband? Wrong again. Nope, it has to be someone from one of the city's more affluent families. It's not the son, either; he naturally has to be gay (something I saw from a mile off). In fact, I guessed the culprit almost from the outset, and the red herrings throughout the rest of the story turned out to be only mildly distracting.
Finally, the innuendo got a bit much. Or much too much. The victim was an unmarried mother and two key characters in this murder are prostitutes... and although the innuendo is written in Victorian language, it's still fairly clear. Page after page after page of sexual references gets very tiring, especially when there's really no humor, likeable characters, or interesting story to have as a counter-balance.
Though Jennings did a good job of using language and expressions that fit the Victorian time period of this historical novel, she did a very poor job of constructing a clean book with an interesting story and characters. Murdoch and Co. are fairly cardboard, the story is embarrassingly simple, and the innuendo is just too much. If you ever see this book on the shelf at the library, don't even waste the energy it takes to read the back cover.
My Rating: MT (constant innuendo, veiled homosexual reference, mild sexual content)
On a "Good Book" scale of one to ten, this ranks at about a two. The only reasons it doesn't reach lower are: Its good Victorian flavor and its lack of sex scenes. Other than that, there is really no reason why someone would want to read this book. The characters are generally either boring or annoying, the story is very much a cliché, and there is enough innuendo to stuff a mattress.
First, the characters. Now, I've seen most of the episodes from the first season of the Canadian television adaptation of this series of books. During that time, I fell in love with every one of the regular characters: Awkward but hard-working Constable Crabtree, gruff and humorous Inspector Brackenreid, professional and ladylike pathologist Doctor Ogden, and especially Murdoch, with his strong Catholic faith, shy nature, and head in the clouds of science. Then I read this book. Murdoch is totally different; none of the words I used to describe him would really apply. He's Catholic, though not particularly faithful, more disapproving than shy, and doesn't seem to be quite as involved in science. Constable Crabtree, instead of an awkward little bachelor, is a youngish married man with three kids. The Inspector, who hates politics in the shows, is fond of kissing up to various people in high places in the book. Doctor Ogden isn't even a character yet, although I am told she comes into the series later. In short, the characters were very much improved upon in the television series.
Next, the very straightforward story. Well, a young servant girl gets pregnant, and, although the culprit is unknown, it's pretty obvious that the man involved is the killer. Might it be the stable boy? Don't be ridiculous. What about the housekeeper's husband? Wrong again. Nope, it has to be someone from one of the city's more affluent families. It's not the son, either; he naturally has to be gay (something I saw from a mile off). In fact, I guessed the culprit almost from the outset, and the red herrings throughout the rest of the story turned out to be only mildly distracting.
Finally, the innuendo got a bit much. Or much too much. The victim was an unmarried mother and two key characters in this murder are prostitutes... and although the innuendo is written in Victorian language, it's still fairly clear. Page after page after page of sexual references gets very tiring, especially when there's really no humor, likeable characters, or interesting story to have as a counter-balance.
Though Jennings did a good job of using language and expressions that fit the Victorian time period of this historical novel, she did a very poor job of constructing a clean book with an interesting story and characters. Murdoch and Co. are fairly cardboard, the story is embarrassingly simple, and the innuendo is just too much. If you ever see this book on the shelf at the library, don't even waste the energy it takes to read the back cover.
My Rating: MT (constant innuendo, veiled homosexual reference, mild sexual content)
Friday, March 16, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
The Handmaid's Tale (1985)
(Written by Margaret Atwood.) Offred is a handmaid to Serena Joy, the wife of a Commander. But this isn't biblical times, and it isn't even as far east as Europe. Following a disaster of almost apocalyptic proportions, a group of heavily armed rebels has destroyed the government of the United States. The country is now called Gilead, and it is ruled according to fear and distrust. Women are taken out of the workforce and are assigned various rigid roles in society. Some are housekeepers called "Marthas." Some are the "Wives." Still others are "Handmaids" - childbearers who are not married to the children's fathers. In a society almost bereft of fertility, the burden of producing the next generation falls to these.
This book is very puzzling. At first, it seems very anti-organized religion - particularly anti-Catholic. The way the Handmaids are required to dress seems nearly identical to the habit the Daughters of Charity used to wear. The distorted view of sexuality - for procreation only - is one often attributed to the Catholic Church. The Gileadean regime uses the Bible to put a moral price tag on what it's doing. Those are only a few examples. But deeper into the book, it's revealed that things are not quite as they seem at first glance.
Gilead seems to be more interested in using vague hints and trappings of Christianity rather than any real form of Christianity itself. For example, the Bible is used as moral backup for what the regime wants to do. But the Bible is not made available to most of the people - and many "quotes" are either distorted or borrowed from another source. In short, the regime alters the evidence (the Bible) to fit its arguments, not the other way around.
So Gilead uses a vague idea (again, the Bible) that is typically considered to have moral weight in order to justify what is being done. For the most part, the regime gets away with this because no one has the tools to argue with them. Only trustworthy people in high places even have access to the Bible. In other words, the regime's argument is built on a foundation that is unassailable only because it is simply unavailable. That sounds more like relativism than Christianity, which has the widely available Word of God as its backup.
Any relativist moral argument eventually breaks down because it cannot have real evidence on which to build its foundation. Arguing that "what's okay for me doesn't have to be okay for you" is totally illogical. Not because it's false per se, but because, by its very nature, it has nothing to back it up. Think about that for a second. To what moral authority can relativists appeal in order to back up their claim that "good" is, in truth, relative? They have none; the whole point of relativism is to do away with moral authority entirely. Unlike modern relativists, the Gileadean regime in The Handmaid's Tale understands this need of evidence. Its response is to obfuscate and mutilate a known, trusted source. However, the essentials still remain the same. Relativists have no authority on their side, and the Gileadeans have only an invented authority.
Whether Atwood intended to weave this speculation on relativism into her book or not, the parallel can certainly be drawn. She is apparently an agnostic, and might possibly be anti-organized religion. But whatever her attitudes on religion, the complexity of her invented world and the interesting way in which Atwood deals with its problems make this a worthwhile read.
My Rating: MT (sexual content and references, sex scenes (not too graphic), reference to homosexuality, violence)
This book is very puzzling. At first, it seems very anti-organized religion - particularly anti-Catholic. The way the Handmaids are required to dress seems nearly identical to the habit the Daughters of Charity used to wear. The distorted view of sexuality - for procreation only - is one often attributed to the Catholic Church. The Gileadean regime uses the Bible to put a moral price tag on what it's doing. Those are only a few examples. But deeper into the book, it's revealed that things are not quite as they seem at first glance.
Gilead seems to be more interested in using vague hints and trappings of Christianity rather than any real form of Christianity itself. For example, the Bible is used as moral backup for what the regime wants to do. But the Bible is not made available to most of the people - and many "quotes" are either distorted or borrowed from another source. In short, the regime alters the evidence (the Bible) to fit its arguments, not the other way around.
So Gilead uses a vague idea (again, the Bible) that is typically considered to have moral weight in order to justify what is being done. For the most part, the regime gets away with this because no one has the tools to argue with them. Only trustworthy people in high places even have access to the Bible. In other words, the regime's argument is built on a foundation that is unassailable only because it is simply unavailable. That sounds more like relativism than Christianity, which has the widely available Word of God as its backup.
Any relativist moral argument eventually breaks down because it cannot have real evidence on which to build its foundation. Arguing that "what's okay for me doesn't have to be okay for you" is totally illogical. Not because it's false per se, but because, by its very nature, it has nothing to back it up. Think about that for a second. To what moral authority can relativists appeal in order to back up their claim that "good" is, in truth, relative? They have none; the whole point of relativism is to do away with moral authority entirely. Unlike modern relativists, the Gileadean regime in The Handmaid's Tale understands this need of evidence. Its response is to obfuscate and mutilate a known, trusted source. However, the essentials still remain the same. Relativists have no authority on their side, and the Gileadeans have only an invented authority.
Whether Atwood intended to weave this speculation on relativism into her book or not, the parallel can certainly be drawn. She is apparently an agnostic, and might possibly be anti-organized religion. But whatever her attitudes on religion, the complexity of her invented world and the interesting way in which Atwood deals with its problems make this a worthwhile read.
My Rating: MT (sexual content and references, sex scenes (not too graphic), reference to homosexuality, violence)
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
A Wrinkle In Time (1962)
(Written by Madeleine L'Engle. First book in the Time Quintet.) Meg Murry is not like other girls. In fact, she's not like other people, period. In the first place, her scientist father disappeared several years ago while working for the government. Second, her teachers - and the whole village - think she's an idiot. Well, moron, actually. Her little brother Charles Wallace is supposed to be the idiot. Meg is really a very intelligent girl, but she's a bit of a late bloomer. Charles Wallace is almost unbelievably intelligent, but he developed the reputation of an idiot as a baby, and reputations are hard to shake. Into this little nest of idiots and morons comes three strange old ladies. Their names are Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who, and Mrs. Which, and they are not exactly human. Also, they have the ability to use the fifth dimension to travel around the universe fighting evil. And they know where Meg and Charles Wallace's father is.
One of my pet peeves is that there are too few really acceptable children's books written nowadays. Kids graduate to teen books long before they are really ready. But that just means that they graduate from innuendo to more explicit sexual content. Looking back on some books I read when I was about eleven, I'm very glad that I was... shall I say not exactly up to speed on innuendo and other semi-sexual content? At the time, I knew somehow that there was something wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on what. About the only safe harbors were Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys, and Redwall.
A Wrinkle in Time, however, is completely appropriate for children - and challenging as well. Its story is easy enough to follow, but there are parts where kids need to stretch their imaginations. The universe can be stretched in and out of shape by anyone, given the proper training and experience, and there are fanstastic things like centaurs - with wings! - and brains separated from bodies. Mind control makes an appearance as well. But this sort of imaginational stretch should be pretty easy for anyone weaned on Disney movies or the Narnia books.
Finally, L'Engle makes it a point that kids don't all grow up and/or learn at the same rates. Everyone has their own schedule, she seems to say. Just because some kid is "behind," don't assume that kid is a moron. Even those who might very well have some sort of learning disability also have a special talent. This is a great message that kids need to hear: God has a plan in mind for you, and you're not going to be left behind.
My Rating: Borderline AGC/OK (frightening ideas (e.g. the brain), slight parent/child conflict)
One of my pet peeves is that there are too few really acceptable children's books written nowadays. Kids graduate to teen books long before they are really ready. But that just means that they graduate from innuendo to more explicit sexual content. Looking back on some books I read when I was about eleven, I'm very glad that I was... shall I say not exactly up to speed on innuendo and other semi-sexual content? At the time, I knew somehow that there was something wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on what. About the only safe harbors were Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys, and Redwall.
A Wrinkle in Time, however, is completely appropriate for children - and challenging as well. Its story is easy enough to follow, but there are parts where kids need to stretch their imaginations. The universe can be stretched in and out of shape by anyone, given the proper training and experience, and there are fanstastic things like centaurs - with wings! - and brains separated from bodies. Mind control makes an appearance as well. But this sort of imaginational stretch should be pretty easy for anyone weaned on Disney movies or the Narnia books.
Finally, L'Engle makes it a point that kids don't all grow up and/or learn at the same rates. Everyone has their own schedule, she seems to say. Just because some kid is "behind," don't assume that kid is a moron. Even those who might very well have some sort of learning disability also have a special talent. This is a great message that kids need to hear: God has a plan in mind for you, and you're not going to be left behind.
My Rating: Borderline AGC/OK (frightening ideas (e.g. the brain), slight parent/child conflict)
Friday, March 2, 2012
Another Slippery Post
Warning: Somewhat mature content is contained in this post.
"The fact that it was a lesbian encounter didn't really bother me. What creeped me out was the difference in their ages. Laura's seventeen and Janet's, what, thirty-eight?"
This sentence (or something much like it) was spoken during a casual discussion of The Female Man by Joanna Russ. I and the others in the group had all just read the section where Janet, with the help of a mechanical device, has "sex" with Laura. The others in the group were offended and put off by the twenty-year difference in the two women's ages. My reaction to that (in my head) was, and I quote, "Why the hell not?"
Speaking from a morally relativistic approach, there is absolutely no reason why these two women shouldn't do anything they pleased. Laura was at the age of consent. This is the age of free love, right? Of sexual perversions taken as lightly as a doodle? If there's nothing morally wrong with homosexual acts (I say acts, not people with same-sex attraction), then there's certainly nothing wrong with a thirty-eight year old having sex with a seventeen year old.
But the inconsistency of my fellow group members' logic isn't what disturbed me. I'm very glad that people who look with an approving eye on things considered unthinkable just a hundred years ago would still have some sexual boundaries. No, what disturbed me is the thing that they didn't mention: Laura lost her virginity to a mechanical device. Let's think about this for a minute. Sex is an extremely intimate act wherein a man and a woman become one flesh. This has been so perverted that a woman can now share this sort of intimacy with a metal device, pretending she is having sex with another woman - and no one objects. Maybe I'm naïve, but that strikes me as bone-chilling. Maybe I'm naïve, but that strikes me as dangerous. Maybe I'm naïve, but people who express opinions like mine will find themselves subject to heavy fines and/or imprisonment just a few decades from now. Abnormal behaviors accepted by society become protected by law, and those who oppose things protected by law are persecuted.
"The fact that it was a lesbian encounter didn't really bother me. What creeped me out was the difference in their ages. Laura's seventeen and Janet's, what, thirty-eight?"
This sentence (or something much like it) was spoken during a casual discussion of The Female Man by Joanna Russ. I and the others in the group had all just read the section where Janet, with the help of a mechanical device, has "sex" with Laura. The others in the group were offended and put off by the twenty-year difference in the two women's ages. My reaction to that (in my head) was, and I quote, "Why the hell not?"
Speaking from a morally relativistic approach, there is absolutely no reason why these two women shouldn't do anything they pleased. Laura was at the age of consent. This is the age of free love, right? Of sexual perversions taken as lightly as a doodle? If there's nothing morally wrong with homosexual acts (I say acts, not people with same-sex attraction), then there's certainly nothing wrong with a thirty-eight year old having sex with a seventeen year old.
But the inconsistency of my fellow group members' logic isn't what disturbed me. I'm very glad that people who look with an approving eye on things considered unthinkable just a hundred years ago would still have some sexual boundaries. No, what disturbed me is the thing that they didn't mention: Laura lost her virginity to a mechanical device. Let's think about this for a minute. Sex is an extremely intimate act wherein a man and a woman become one flesh. This has been so perverted that a woman can now share this sort of intimacy with a metal device, pretending she is having sex with another woman - and no one objects. Maybe I'm naïve, but that strikes me as bone-chilling. Maybe I'm naïve, but that strikes me as dangerous. Maybe I'm naïve, but people who express opinions like mine will find themselves subject to heavy fines and/or imprisonment just a few decades from now. Abnormal behaviors accepted by society become protected by law, and those who oppose things protected by law are persecuted.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Slipping Down the Slope
"Somewhere Hitler smiles. They say that he killed the disabled and the sick (not to mention the Jews) for all the wrong reasons, but if in fact there is no wrong or right, no objective truth, then all that really matters is that he did kill them, which by the standards of contemporary ethics, makes him a visionary."
~Dean Koontz, One Door Away from Heaven, Chapter 41
~Dean Koontz, One Door Away from Heaven, Chapter 41
Friday, February 17, 2012
Look Out, Stranger...
If you like to watch old western movies because you like them, you like to make fun of them, or both, you're liable to split a seam watching this. It's from an old WWII movie called Starlift, which was basically an entertainment show for the troops. The movie's not great, but this song and one other comedic performance are funny.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Pertaining To The More the Merrier
Mr. Dingle (Charles Coburn) is an amiable older gentleman who shows up in Washington D.C. to help with the housing problem. WWII is well underway, and the capitol city is literally over-flowing with people trying to do their patriotic duty. One such person is young, unmarried Constance Milligan (Jean Arthur). To help with the housing shortage, she advertizes to sublet half her apartment - and Mr. Dingle finagles his way in. Soon he decides that she needs a "high-type, clean-cut, nice young fellow." So he finagles his way further into her life by renting half of his half of the apartment to a young man named Sgt. Joe Carter (Joel McCrea). Who happens to be a high-type, clean-cut, nice young fellow. And very much available.
This is very definitely a "screwball" comedy. The storyline verges on the ridiculous, and everything is very much accelerated. (Though that seems to be the case in most romantic comedies; how do people fall in love that fast?) At the same time, a suspicious-minded person would call it "propaganda." Connie repeatedly says that subletting half her apartment is her "patriotic duty" - the implication being thus: Who knows what wonderful things could happen to you if you did your patriotic duty?
Ultimately, there were three things that sold me on this movie. First, it's one of those hilarious romantic comedies that very much follows the formula: One has an idiot significant other, but is thrown together with a different person due to unforeseen and unescapable circumstances. In just a few short days, the one and the different other find that they're in love, but neither wants to ruin anything by striking up a real relationship. And the list of the other romcom elements goes on. However, this movie is cleaner than most modern romantic comedies, though it has no fewer funny scenes. Second, I've seen the lead actor in another movie and really liked him. He's not a great actor, but I like the characters he portrays. Third, the characters are lovable. Connie is the sweetest thing. Joe is not quite as "high-type" as Mr. Dingle thinks, but he's still a good man. And Mr. Dingle is the perfect picture of a meddlesome older man who thinks he knows best for everyone - and really does.
My Rating: OK (thematic elements, very mild sexual content and references)
This is very definitely a "screwball" comedy. The storyline verges on the ridiculous, and everything is very much accelerated. (Though that seems to be the case in most romantic comedies; how do people fall in love that fast?) At the same time, a suspicious-minded person would call it "propaganda." Connie repeatedly says that subletting half her apartment is her "patriotic duty" - the implication being thus: Who knows what wonderful things could happen to you if you did your patriotic duty?
Ultimately, there were three things that sold me on this movie. First, it's one of those hilarious romantic comedies that very much follows the formula: One has an idiot significant other, but is thrown together with a different person due to unforeseen and unescapable circumstances. In just a few short days, the one and the different other find that they're in love, but neither wants to ruin anything by striking up a real relationship. And the list of the other romcom elements goes on. However, this movie is cleaner than most modern romantic comedies, though it has no fewer funny scenes. Second, I've seen the lead actor in another movie and really liked him. He's not a great actor, but I like the characters he portrays. Third, the characters are lovable. Connie is the sweetest thing. Joe is not quite as "high-type" as Mr. Dingle thinks, but he's still a good man. And Mr. Dingle is the perfect picture of a meddlesome older man who thinks he knows best for everyone - and really does.
My Rating: OK (thematic elements, very mild sexual content and references)
Friday, February 10, 2012
Now I'm Getting Interested...
Just a few thoughts on this new trailer.
Originally, my reaction to The Amazing Spider-Man was: ugh. Too dark. I like the Christian Bale Batman movies, but I draw the line at Spider-Man. I've never read the comics. However, I am a huge fan of Tobey Maguire's depiction. He's a bit annoying and dorky at times, yet Peter's a good kid trying to figure out what to do with these crazy-sweet powers that got dumped in his lap. That's my favorite thing about the Spider-Man trilogy, and what sets it apart from movies like, say, the Batman movies (two so far), the X-Men movies (I've seen four), the Avengers movies (five so far)... need I go on?
This trailer looks more like my idea of Spider-Man. He's fresh, dorky, and cocky like a typical teenaged boy. Granted, he helps create a monster (at least it seems that way), and then decides that he needs to fix it. That's not exactly on the to-do list for every teenager. But life is the unfolding of sin, atonement, redemption, and salvation. Why should movies be any different? I'll be interested to see whether the filmmakers can stick to the "hero-out-to-fix-his-mistakes" thing while still holding onto Peter's (apparently) goofy personality...
Friday, February 3, 2012
Soft Openings
Okay, so you know that part in Ocean's Thirteen when some of them are trying to explain a "soft" opening to Saul? A soft opening is basically a preview of the big opening - like a test drive. If there are bugs in the system somewhere, they can be ironed out by management and staff before the real opening comes with its requisite fireworks and flashing lights. Well, that concept is now being applied to Super Bowl commercials.
I kid you not. Just look at IMDb for the preview of the Avengers preview that will be broadcast during the Super Bowl. Seriously? A preview of the preview? There are other commercials posted online, too. Six of this year's commercials are right here. Where's the fun in that? The surprise is the best part of the commercials. Remember the Bud Light axe murderer one? Or the E*Trade baby? Little Darth Vader?
Feedback is the only thing going for this whole "soft opening" idea. Maybe companies can look at ratings on youtube and avoid showing certain commercials during the Super Bowl. Remember Doritos and Pepsi from last year? Crude. Most of the others were just flat-out boring.
But if you're going to put them out there for general consumption before the Super Bowl, it defeats the purpose. Everybody talks about the commercials after the Super Bowl - that's the point of the whole thing for people who aren't football fans. If the commercials have already been seen and digested by most or even some of the populace, doesn't that take a little magic from the moment when they're seen on TV?
For the record, I've seen just one of the 2012 Super Bowl commercials to which I have linked. I'm saving the rest for the day itself. Oh, and one more thing. GO GIANTS!
I kid you not. Just look at IMDb for the preview of the Avengers preview that will be broadcast during the Super Bowl. Seriously? A preview of the preview? There are other commercials posted online, too. Six of this year's commercials are right here. Where's the fun in that? The surprise is the best part of the commercials. Remember the Bud Light axe murderer one? Or the E*Trade baby? Little Darth Vader?
Feedback is the only thing going for this whole "soft opening" idea. Maybe companies can look at ratings on youtube and avoid showing certain commercials during the Super Bowl. Remember Doritos and Pepsi from last year? Crude. Most of the others were just flat-out boring.
But if you're going to put them out there for general consumption before the Super Bowl, it defeats the purpose. Everybody talks about the commercials after the Super Bowl - that's the point of the whole thing for people who aren't football fans. If the commercials have already been seen and digested by most or even some of the populace, doesn't that take a little magic from the moment when they're seen on TV?
For the record, I've seen just one of the 2012 Super Bowl commercials to which I have linked. I'm saving the rest for the day itself. Oh, and one more thing. GO GIANTS!
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
On A Smile as Big as the Moon
Mike Kersjes (John Corbett) teaches a special ed class at a high school. He has a special group of kids with disabilities ranging from Down syndrome to the "alphabet" kind like ADHD. One day, the kids go on a field trip to a museum - and come back with pamphlets advertising Space Camp. A place for "gifted" students, Space Camp sounds like the coolest thing ever to more than one of the kids. So Mike decides to make it happen. Unfortunately, he has to 1) get his superiors to okay the trip, 2) get Space Camp to agree, 3) raise enough money, and 4) get the kids into the proper physical and especially mental state. It ain't gonna be easy.
All right, I'll just start off by saying this is a Hallmark movie. But it's so much better than one of their typical movies that I forgot it was even Hallmark. Or I would have forgotten if there weren't so many Hallmark card commercials.
Back to my review. The acting, writing, and story are amazing for a TV movie. A Smile as Big as the Moon wouldn't win any Academy Awards if it was a theater release, but it's really more than just passable. At least one of the kids is played by someone with the real disability, and the others seem to be pretty darn good actors. John Corbett is good as Mike. And that's pretty much everybody who has a big part.
So the production is good - and the story is better. People so often forget that disabilities don't define people. Yes, psychologists, I'm looking at you. Special ed kids are so often marginalized just because they happen to have difficulty reading, concentrating, remembering, or even just comprehending. They get labeled so that everyone sees them as "Down syndromes with people" (so to speak) instead of "people with Down syndrome." Then the kids' development is stunted because they're told they "can't do that" because their brains or other parts of them work differently. The only words to describe that viewpoint are ones that I prefer not to use. A Smile as Big as the Moon tears down that horrible inversion by showing just how much kids are capable of achieving if they're only given the chance and a helping hand.
My Rating: OK (mild language)
All right, I'll just start off by saying this is a Hallmark movie. But it's so much better than one of their typical movies that I forgot it was even Hallmark. Or I would have forgotten if there weren't so many Hallmark card commercials.
Back to my review. The acting, writing, and story are amazing for a TV movie. A Smile as Big as the Moon wouldn't win any Academy Awards if it was a theater release, but it's really more than just passable. At least one of the kids is played by someone with the real disability, and the others seem to be pretty darn good actors. John Corbett is good as Mike. And that's pretty much everybody who has a big part.
So the production is good - and the story is better. People so often forget that disabilities don't define people. Yes, psychologists, I'm looking at you. Special ed kids are so often marginalized just because they happen to have difficulty reading, concentrating, remembering, or even just comprehending. They get labeled so that everyone sees them as "Down syndromes with people" (so to speak) instead of "people with Down syndrome." Then the kids' development is stunted because they're told they "can't do that" because their brains or other parts of them work differently. The only words to describe that viewpoint are ones that I prefer not to use. A Smile as Big as the Moon tears down that horrible inversion by showing just how much kids are capable of achieving if they're only given the chance and a helping hand.
My Rating: OK (mild language)
Friday, January 27, 2012
Everything's Just Ducky
Science fiction. If this doesn't bring to mind Star Trek, then your planet evidently has not been visited by the U.S.S. Enterprise. But, seriously, what does "science fiction" say to you? Aliens? Space ships? Super-cool gizmos? My answer is "all of the above." But apparently I'm an ignoramus.
I'm not una grande aficionada of sf, but I've read a few books now. Here's a rough list: Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton, A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L'Engle, The Tripods Attack! by John McNichol (though it's more steampunk than sf), The Hunger Games series by Suzanne Collins, One Door Away from Heaven by Dean Koontz, Death Panels by Michelle Buckman, and Herland by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. Most of these books have something in common: technology that didn't exist at the time of its publication, but possibly could exist one day down the road. That is, scientific advances that are mere speculation. All the books on my list fit that description pretty well - except the last one.
Herland by Charlotte Perkins Gilman is about a group of American men who find their way into an all-female country hidden in South America. The only special thing they use to enter said country is an airplane. Granted, the book was published in 1915, so airplanes hadn't been around all that long. But they still existed. The Herlanders have no special gadgets to help them along. In fact, they seem to be almost devoid of what we typically classify as machinery. They have a few cars, but that seems to be the extent of their technology. Cars already existed in 1915, as well.
So here's my question: Where's the science? Answer: It's a sociological science fiction book. I kid you not. Sociology, which some people have graced with the title "science," is considered scientific enough to put a book like Herland into the sf genre. The idiocy of this label is so ridiculous that it is a little difficult to fully describe. Science is based on observable knowledge. When you pour one chemical into another and you observe that the mixture blows up in your face, you can assume that the combination of those two chemicals makes an explosive. But before you can state it as a fact, you must make sure that it was really those two chemicals alone that caused the explosion. For example, you must isolate them from possible contributing factors like air. Once you're sure that it really was the chemicals, you can announce your discovery to the world.
Sociology, on the other hand, cannot hope to reach this level of certainty in its conclusions. Human behavior cannot be isolated or pigeon-holed. You cannot say for certain that there are no other contributing factors in your equation that could have affected the outcome. So to say sociology is a "science" is to be intellectually inconsistent.
However, having non-scientific subjects like sociology labeled as a "science" only makes sense in the modern world. "Science" is looked up to and worshiped like a god - science knows all! (Who cares whether everything we know will be looked upon by future generations as we now look on the idea that blood-letting will cure all illnesses? But I digress.) This is not only ridiculous, it has ruined science. Any time one facet of life is crowned king over the rest, that facet is dragged down into the dirt. Science used to be the lofty pursuit of understanding the natural world through experimentation and observation. It now lives in the slums of making more or less educated guesses about life based on "data" that represents things far more complex than any computer.
Now, I'm not saying that science ought to be completely severed from the rest of life. I'm not even saying the typically formulaic idea of sf is not in need of improving. What I'm saying is that it's idiotic to call a kangaroo a duck. Not only idiotic, but it robs the kangaroo of its identity. The taint of such a stupid idea even leaks into literature, and as a result we have "science" fiction books like Herland.
I'm not una grande aficionada of sf, but I've read a few books now. Here's a rough list: Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton, A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L'Engle, The Tripods Attack! by John McNichol (though it's more steampunk than sf), The Hunger Games series by Suzanne Collins, One Door Away from Heaven by Dean Koontz, Death Panels by Michelle Buckman, and Herland by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. Most of these books have something in common: technology that didn't exist at the time of its publication, but possibly could exist one day down the road. That is, scientific advances that are mere speculation. All the books on my list fit that description pretty well - except the last one.
Herland by Charlotte Perkins Gilman is about a group of American men who find their way into an all-female country hidden in South America. The only special thing they use to enter said country is an airplane. Granted, the book was published in 1915, so airplanes hadn't been around all that long. But they still existed. The Herlanders have no special gadgets to help them along. In fact, they seem to be almost devoid of what we typically classify as machinery. They have a few cars, but that seems to be the extent of their technology. Cars already existed in 1915, as well.
So here's my question: Where's the science? Answer: It's a sociological science fiction book. I kid you not. Sociology, which some people have graced with the title "science," is considered scientific enough to put a book like Herland into the sf genre. The idiocy of this label is so ridiculous that it is a little difficult to fully describe. Science is based on observable knowledge. When you pour one chemical into another and you observe that the mixture blows up in your face, you can assume that the combination of those two chemicals makes an explosive. But before you can state it as a fact, you must make sure that it was really those two chemicals alone that caused the explosion. For example, you must isolate them from possible contributing factors like air. Once you're sure that it really was the chemicals, you can announce your discovery to the world.
Sociology, on the other hand, cannot hope to reach this level of certainty in its conclusions. Human behavior cannot be isolated or pigeon-holed. You cannot say for certain that there are no other contributing factors in your equation that could have affected the outcome. So to say sociology is a "science" is to be intellectually inconsistent.
However, having non-scientific subjects like sociology labeled as a "science" only makes sense in the modern world. "Science" is looked up to and worshiped like a god - science knows all! (Who cares whether everything we know will be looked upon by future generations as we now look on the idea that blood-letting will cure all illnesses? But I digress.) This is not only ridiculous, it has ruined science. Any time one facet of life is crowned king over the rest, that facet is dragged down into the dirt. Science used to be the lofty pursuit of understanding the natural world through experimentation and observation. It now lives in the slums of making more or less educated guesses about life based on "data" that represents things far more complex than any computer.
Now, I'm not saying that science ought to be completely severed from the rest of life. I'm not even saying the typically formulaic idea of sf is not in need of improving. What I'm saying is that it's idiotic to call a kangaroo a duck. Not only idiotic, but it robs the kangaroo of its identity. The taint of such a stupid idea even leaks into literature, and as a result we have "science" fiction books like Herland.
Friday, January 20, 2012
New News on LCJ
So Love's Christmas Journey now has a page on the Hallmark Channel's website. (To see my opinion of the Love Comes Softly Saga, read this post.) Turns out I was wrong about Erik. He is not going to be Ellie's next husband; Deputy Michael Strode is.
But what really surprised me (other than Sean Astin's appearance. Really, Sean? You can't find anything better to do than one of the Love movies?) was the preview video. It says "two-part." Think about this for a second. Two parts. At two hours apiece. Minus about forty to forty-five minutes total of commercials, that's still a movie that lasts three hours and twenty minutes. Believe me, there's barely that much decent movie time in all the previous movies put together.
Enough of my griping; I haven't even seen the thing yet. Go to this IMDb page to read a review by "pjheberling" - someone who saw the movie, hated it, and has a great sense of humor to boot. If you read it out loud with a British accent (I know, the guy's from the U.S. - but it sounds like a British sense of humor, doesn't it?), it's even better.
But what really surprised me (other than Sean Astin's appearance. Really, Sean? You can't find anything better to do than one of the Love movies?) was the preview video. It says "two-part." Think about this for a second. Two parts. At two hours apiece. Minus about forty to forty-five minutes total of commercials, that's still a movie that lasts three hours and twenty minutes. Believe me, there's barely that much decent movie time in all the previous movies put together.
Enough of my griping; I haven't even seen the thing yet. Go to this IMDb page to read a review by "pjheberling" - someone who saw the movie, hated it, and has a great sense of humor to boot. If you read it out loud with a British accent (I know, the guy's from the U.S. - but it sounds like a British sense of humor, doesn't it?), it's even better.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Concerning Red
Frank Moses (Bruce Willis) is a retiree with a very dull time of it. For kicks, he tears up his retirement checks so he can call Sarah (Mary-Louise Parker) at the help desk. Of course, the fact that he, as he puts it, "likes" her might have something to do with that, too. But then one day a bunch of assassins come to his house and try to kill him. As an ex-CIA agent, Frank takes care of them without a problem. Thrown into a fight he didn't choose, he still leaps at the chance to get back into some of his old habits - and save (and impress) Sarah in the meantime.
This is going to sound like a very strange parallel, so brace yourself. This movie is like a Jane Austen story with a lot of bullets. Oh, there's a lot more excitement in Red (and a lot more bullets) and perhaps the language is a little worse. But Red is driven by the funny, likeable characters, just like an Austen story.
First there's Frank, who's a tough guy with a giant soft spot. Then there are all his old spy friends - Joe (Morgan Freeman), Victoria (Helen Mirren), and especially the really odd and extremely paranoid Marvin (John Malkovich). Each has his/her own unique character, complete with body language and a sense of humor. Finally, Sarah is hilarious. She's so sarcastic and frank it's funny, and she never once slips out of character.
Granted, the characters are not quite as filled out or varied as those created by Austen, but I think the parallel still holds. Regardless of whether this reaches mastery or not, Red is a fun couple of hours with lots of shooting (explosions, too), funny lines, and very likeable characters. What more could one want in a movie?
My Rating: T (violence, language, mild sexual content)
This is going to sound like a very strange parallel, so brace yourself. This movie is like a Jane Austen story with a lot of bullets. Oh, there's a lot more excitement in Red (and a lot more bullets) and perhaps the language is a little worse. But Red is driven by the funny, likeable characters, just like an Austen story.
First there's Frank, who's a tough guy with a giant soft spot. Then there are all his old spy friends - Joe (Morgan Freeman), Victoria (Helen Mirren), and especially the really odd and extremely paranoid Marvin (John Malkovich). Each has his/her own unique character, complete with body language and a sense of humor. Finally, Sarah is hilarious. She's so sarcastic and frank it's funny, and she never once slips out of character.
Granted, the characters are not quite as filled out or varied as those created by Austen, but I think the parallel still holds. Regardless of whether this reaches mastery or not, Red is a fun couple of hours with lots of shooting (explosions, too), funny lines, and very likeable characters. What more could one want in a movie?
My Rating: T (violence, language, mild sexual content)
Friday, January 6, 2012
One More Video...
...Before I get back to serious stuff like writing reviews. Not that this isn't seriously funny - particularly for those of us who have had the misfortune of singing the original version of this song - Mary, Did You Know? - for a Christmas choir. I would definitely not recommend it for amateur choirs.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Spend Today in the Middle of Middle Earth
"Fantasy remains a human right: we make in our measure and in our derivative mode, because we are made: and not only made, but made in the image and likeness of a Maker."
~J.R.R. Tolkien, On Fairy Stories
Happy Birthday (and Merry Christmas), old maker of Hobbits!
Today, since it is his 120th birthday, is J.R.R. Tolkien day. I would heartily recommend the enjoyment of the extended versions of the Lord of the Rings films, the repeated viewing of the trailer for the new Hobbit movie due to come out in December, a speedy run-through of any of his books, making and enjoying various fan adaptations of Middle Earth foods, or - the activity I choose - hours spent in the combat contained within The Return of the King video game. I normally would have spent the day in watching all 11+ hours of the movies (or however long the three extended versions run to - I never watch the theatrical versions), but, alas, my family's copies are with an older sibling for the time being. So I shall content myself in my Aragorn- Legolas- Frodo- Sam- Gimli- Gandalf- Boromir- Pippen- Merry- Faramir- and Galadriel-less sorrow (apologies to any good characters I forgot) by immersing myself in a desperate fight to defeat various baddies from the story.
If you're really desperate for something Lord of the Rings (or in need of a good laugh), watch this video. I hear there's a 10-hour one on youtube as well, but I have neither the time nor the inclination to watch it.
~J.R.R. Tolkien, On Fairy Stories
Happy Birthday (and Merry Christmas), old maker of Hobbits!
Today, since it is his 120th birthday, is J.R.R. Tolkien day. I would heartily recommend the enjoyment of the extended versions of the Lord of the Rings films, the repeated viewing of the trailer for the new Hobbit movie due to come out in December, a speedy run-through of any of his books, making and enjoying various fan adaptations of Middle Earth foods, or - the activity I choose - hours spent in the combat contained within The Return of the King video game. I normally would have spent the day in watching all 11+ hours of the movies (or however long the three extended versions run to - I never watch the theatrical versions), but, alas, my family's copies are with an older sibling for the time being. So I shall content myself in my Aragorn- Legolas- Frodo- Sam- Gimli- Gandalf- Boromir- Pippen- Merry- Faramir- and Galadriel-less sorrow (apologies to any good characters I forgot) by immersing myself in a desperate fight to defeat various baddies from the story.
If you're really desperate for something Lord of the Rings (or in need of a good laugh), watch this video. I hear there's a 10-hour one on youtube as well, but I have neither the time nor the inclination to watch it.
P.S. Notice how I snuck in "Merry Christmas" - thus making this post technically a Christmas post.
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