Magnolia (1999)

I have now seen Magnolia at least 4 times over several years. It is a unique movie, in that each viewing provokes new reactions, while solidifying older observations. It is a multilayered, deeply rewarding film experience. But it is a movie that seems to demand your participation like few other movies do. I always knew Magnolia was a great movie, but I have never been sure I could explain why. I think I have gotten closer and would like to share some observations.

The first time I saw Magnolia was during college. I turned it off part way through Tom Cruise's first Frank T.J. Mackey sequence. Frank Mackey is a self help guru who prances about on stage showing men how to score through emotionally manipulative means. He is never physically or verbally subtle about his intentions. At the time, I felt that it was too uncomfortable and I turned the movie off.

I later learned more about the movie and felt like giving Magnolia a second chance. This time, I was sucked in. So much of the film, specifically Cruise's character, made sense. It is one of few movies I feel thoroughly justifies its crasser leanings. There is a reason the man is perverse, but the movie doesn't praise it or let him get away with it.

It also proved to me something hardly any other film has been able to: Tom Cruise can be a really great actor. Watching him interact with his near dead Father is convincing and brutal.

The third time I became more aware of the technical end of things: The long, elaborate tracking shot which rivals Scorsese's Copa Cabana scene in "Goodfellas," the inundation of music, and the precision of the writing. I read up on some of the symbolism, watched for specific numbers to appear throughout the movie, and found it to be even better than my previous viewing.

I participated in watching the movie.

Now I have seen it a fourth time. During viewing #4, many more things became visible to me. My observations are listed below in detail, so beware of spoilers.

First, I noticed that Magnolia is a movie told in movements. Each movement is closely accompanied by specific music (which never repeats itself later in the film), weather conditions, and technical differences. The only thing consistent between each movement is Aimee Mann's voice.

It almost feels like an opera. Movement 1 is introduction, with a thoroughly gripping set up of characters and themes. Movement 2 is where everyone slowly falls down. Their facades begin to crack. Movement 3 shows the characters heading into (and arriving at) rock bottom. Movement 4 is the crash. Everything breaks, secrets are exposed, wounds are wide open. Movement 5 is a movement towards redemption. Each character begins to sense it. They don't necessarily move up - that would be disengenuine. But the fact is that they look up. That's all P.T. Anderson needs to show us, and that's all we need to see.

Watching Magnolia in this way helped me to experience it much differently than in any previous viewing. I felt like I had a road map.

A major theme (or gimmick?) of Magnolia is the multiple characters story lines. Unlike "Crash," Magnolia's characters are more difficult to connect. I finally saw far more clearly how they are all connected in this viewing. Consider sequences such as the one where the old man is saying his last, bitter, grieving words about regret yet the camera is entirely on another character the whole time. He is narrating the other characters thoughts and feelings as much as expressing his own. Or consider the future that awaits the brilliant child game show contestant. We can see his adult counterpart living his life should the child continue on being dominated by his openly abusive Father. Even if the characters never all end up in the same physical space in the movie, the occupy similar territory in other ways.

Thematically, I am convinced Magnolia is a movie focused on masculinity. Notice that the driving narrative predominantly revolves around men. Anderson focuses thematically on men and Father's in nearly all of his work - Remember "There Will Be Blood" and it's reliance on the role of oppressive Father? What about the role of Fatherhood in Anderson's debut film "Hard Eight"? Magnolia is consistent with this theme.

The roles males play in Magnolia is quite diverse - we have a male nurse, a male chauvinist, successful men, Father's, husbands, a "good" man, and children. It is not just that these roles exist in the movie on their own; they all seem to be quite purposeful. I think the biggest role of the movie is the role of a Father. Consider each character - Frank T.J. Mackey and his Father, the Father of the cocaine addict, or the quiz kid's present but emotionally tortuous Father. The literal and emotional absence of Father's in Magnolia appears to contribute to the majority of what happens in the movie. We see how families suffer at their greed, lust, and emotional absence.

There is more - the narrator is fixed on the line about the past not being through with us. As a therapist who largely subscribes to a classic Family Systems therapy approach to treatment, this is refreshing. I believe we all play out roles from our past in our lives today. Birth order, emotional roles, and triangled communication are examples birthed from our families of origin. It affects intimacy, attachment to others, and personality. Consider again Frank T.J. Mackey: He had to deal with the loss of his Mother and the emotional absence of his Father. He does not know, nor had he likely ever known, intimacy. He knows sex, but he does not know love. These are patterns and themes that his past gave him as an adult. Is it any wonder that he makes a business out of it?

Magnolia is a long, dense movie. It takes its time, and it demands your participation. I still eagerly await my next viewing of it - each time I've watched it with someone, we talk fruitfully at the end about it. There are still things about it I don't get - the frogs being one of them (anyone have a theory about this?). But, hopefully these thoughts can provide you with some clarity about the movie.

I am curious for those who have seen it what about the film you enjoyed most? What themes did you pick up on that resonated with you?

Questions for Counselor's:

1. What role does family history play in your work with your client's?

2. What character would have given you the most counter-transference?

3. What type of a client might you encourage to watch this film? To what purpose?

Questions for Viewer's:

1. Which character did you identify with the most? In what way?

2. Can you think of a role you played (or still play) in your family? How has this role impacted your relationships today?

3. What character bothered you the most? Why? Do you identify with them in any way?

4. Consider the line "we may be through with the past, but the past ain't through with us." Do you believe this? Why or why not?

5. Consider the abusive Father and his brilliant son and where their story line ends. What do you think of the son's confrontation? The Father's response? Is there a family member whom you've ever thought about confronting? If so, what do you hope it would accomplish?

6. What sequence was the most memorable to you?

7. One character comments that he has a lot of love to give, but he wants to have a place to give it. Have you ever identified with this statement?

8. Forgiveness appears to be a big theme in the movie. How have you experienced forgiveness in your own life as forgiver? What about forgiven?

Before the Devil Knows You're Dead (2007)

“Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead” has all of the ingredients of films I am drawn to: a well known director who has masterpieces to his name (Sidney Lumet – aka “Network,” “12 Angry Men,” among loads of others), respected actors and actresses (Philip Seymour Hoffman, Albert Finney, etc), and a fantastic premise that appeals to one of my favorite genre’s: noir.

Consider the set-up: Two brothers agree to rob their parent’s jewelry store as they are in need of some cash. Ethan Hawke’s character needs the money to pay child support and deal with rough times. Philip Seymour Hoffman’s character just needs the money (though I am not sure I understood exactly why). The set-up may sound harsh, but the brothers know that their parents insurance will cover the losses, and they reason that no one will get hurt. It’s a victimless crime that they can only benefit from.

Right?

The film is told in a mildly out of sync narrative style where we jump forward and backwards in time, with plot points nicely revealed as we need them (think “21 Grams”). It certainly does well to ratchet up the tension. Sidney Lumet knows how to make the movie turn white knuckle. The script originally had the brothers written as friends, but Lumet’s decision to change the friends into brothers makes this “all in the family” tone benefit the feel of the movie. The movie would not be nearly as compelling without it.

But, “Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead” and I didn’t get along too well. It is a dark movie. Not dark in the way “The Dark Knight” is, but dark in the way few, if any, movies I have ever seen are. Consider a comparison with “The Dark Knight”: The Joker is a morally absent, deviant monster being combated by a clearly good force. By contrast to the Joker, “Knight’s” Gotham city mobsters appear almost as good guys. It makes his unpredictability a major point of tension as the Joker is loyal to no one person, but rather the philosophy that all mankind is inherently corruptible and prone to evil. The Joker sets out to prove this in every way he can. The Joker’s belief in everyone’s evil side allows the movie to explore what everyday men and women do when they have the capacity to commit evil.

“Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead” is evil run amuck. There are no good guys. Everyone is out for themselves. The result is a film that is possibly the least redemptive, most intently punishing movie I have seen. Perhaps thematically, I could give it credit for being an interesting take on sin without redemption, or guilt without forgiveness. But so what? Why should we care? “Devil…” starts bad, gets worse, then ends.

Why should I care when not one person in the movie is worth caring for?

As a study of guilt, “Devil…” is worth mentioning. One of the brothers has to cope with his role in carrying out the plan to its less than ideal ends. His guilt is palpable, I felt guilty just watching him. But, I didn’t find the movie saying anything about guilt other than showing guilt on screen.

Acting is universally well done, if predictably so. Hoffman, Finney, Hawke, and Tomei are all proven. Lumet’s mastery of direction gives a tightly focused character for each thespian to reveal. Lumet insists the movie is a melodrama, almost apologetically. I think it works and it helps to explain some of the contextual dramatics on display. However, it is worth mentioning that for some reason Marisa Tomei appears dead set on wearing as little or no clothing throughout as much of the movie as possible. I am not sure why Lumet made this decision. It is almost distracting to the narrative and focus of the film. It got to the point where I expected her to be topless in every scene. Sometimes nudity can serve a genuinely important point to the story, characters, or otherwise, but here it just feels mostly unnecessary.

In spite of so many ingredients I crave in a great movie, “Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead” proved that the parts were superior than the whole. It’s intent to observe careless adultery, murder, drug use, and evil for 2 hours may be an interesting character study, but the lack of purpose of any kind hurt any of what it intended. Sure – perhaps we could argue it is a revenge story between a Father and his son, or the tried and true moral that nothing is easy in life. But again – so what? Why should I care? Why should you?

I think I’d rather watch “Network” for great Lumet, or “The Man Who Wasn’t There” for great noir.

Lars and the Real Girl - Second Viewing

(Originally posted in August 2008)

How do you show your friends you love them? What words do you use? What actions do you take? What objects in your life take on a meaning bigger than intended? “Lars and the Real Girl” is about how families, neighbors, and friends cope with mental illness. But “Lars and the Real Girl” is also about so much more.

Lars is an introvert on the far end of the scale who avoids contact with others as much as possible. However, things change when Lars tells his brother and sister in law (his neighbors) that he has met someone – a woman. The problem is, that woman happens to be a sex doll named “Bianca.”

The movie is advertised in a way to make you assume it is (yet) another film about a quirky guy/girl whom the world just doesn’t get. Even the back of the box makes it seem like it is a romantic story about finding true love, as though “Lars” is a sort of off beat romantic comedy. However, this is not a flat, callous movie with alienating “catch-phrase-catch-quirk” characters (like Napolean Dynamite or Juno). Lars is different. It takes its characters and themes way below the surface.

“Lars” works on multiple levels. Many people have wondered what therapy would be like if they went. Look no further than here. Patricia Clarkson’s character is written and acted so well (playing both an MD and a therapist – which is true of smaller towns), that I felt as though I was peering in on a master therapist at work. For example, many of us might ask Lars about Bianca and try to "fix" or understand the problem. However, when Lars is first presented to the therapist, she doesn’t ask. She lets Lars tell her when he is ready. Her focus is on her professional, yet intimate relationship with Lars. She is not concerned with hurriedly fixing a “problem.”

Second, Lars’s family reaction and coping to his diagnosis is very real. When they are told what Lars has, one member wants to fix it right away. “How long does this illness last?” “What medicine can he take that will change him quickly?” “Won’t this be embarrassing?” The other simply asks, “How can we help?” It is a perfect response to someone in crisis. Watching not only the family, but the town characters love Lars is a workable template for how we can respond to those in crisis.

This is where the film got unrealistic to me. There is no way that a large group of people could love someone so much. On my first viewing, this ruined the movie for me because I assumed it was asking me to simply “watch” a silly movie. However, on my second viewing, the film simply asked “what if?” What if a group of people truly loved so much that they selflessly held and walked with someone without advice giving, “shoulds,” or nagging? There is one powerful line where a character says “That’s what friends do in times of crisis. They sit and they wait.” Job’s comforters are nowhere to be found. "Lars" powerfully shows the viewer how we can love others in times of unknown.

We can simply sit, wait, and listen.

Thematically, “Lars and the Real Girl” can be boiled down to being a movie about love. While there is much to say about this, I most want to comment on another theme of the movie - the theme of attachment. Object Relations Theory therapists must see this film. If you want to better understand Object Relations theory, this film shows how a transitional object can be utilized in place of displaced attachment.

It is important that we consider when we watch the film what the power of individual objects can be for us. This makes Lars condition relatable to the average viewer. While this may seem strange, I would argue that what happens to Lars is something that has happened to you. How many of us can recall a doll, stuffed animal, invisible friend, or other blank object that was real and existing to us? They had no identity and language, save for the way we made them to be. Those objects represented something to us. For Lars, Bianca is his means of dealing with physical touch, grief, and human relationship (among other things). She is blank canvas of emotions and attachment patterns that are unique to Lars.“Bianca” is very much a real person in spite of her plastic frame. She is real because Lars projects onto her what is real to him. He projects onto her a relationship where Bianca is the manifestation of Lars’s reality. For Lars to be that vulnerable and open with real people is too difficult for him.

“Lars and the Real Girl” is funny and painful with a certain tenderness. Perhaps it is because the filmmakers acknowledge that this is because these are what love and relationships at their most real can be: funny, painful, selfless, intimate, etc. When we love one another past our understanding of normal, the power of that love can be more than we really know. “Lars and the Real Girl” gets my highest recommendation.

Questions For Counselors:

1. Recall the sequence where Lars family is told clinically about Lars condition. Did you have any reaction/countertransference to either character?

2. What is the metaphor of Bianca for Lars?

3. How does metaphor and analogy play into your clients behaviors?

4. Object Relations Theory appears to provide a great case conceptualization for Lars symptoms. What would your treatment plan be for this type of a client? Would you incorporate any other theories?

5. Are there any ethical issues for the therapist/M.D?

6. Consider the role of physical touch in Lars treatment. Would you consider this ethical?

7. Consider the way the therapist reveals personal information about herself. Is it appropriate? When is it not appropriate to reveal information about yourself to your clients?

Questions for Viewers:

1. Think of a friend or family member going through an emotionally painful experience. What does the movie say might be helpful in the way you treat others in their pain?

2. Recall the sequence where Lars human love interest first sees Bianca after church. Can you think of a family member who pays more attention to an inanimate object than you (a car, a videogame machine, etc)? Why do you think they give so much attention to that object?

3. When was the last time you felt like someone cared for you in a meaningful way? How did that person show it?

4. When was the last time you attempted to care for someone else in a meaningful way? How did you show it?

Henry Poole Is Here

(Originally posted in February 2009)

After much discussion and thought from seeing "Fireproof," I felt that it was a great message packed into a poor movie that was ultimately still worth watching. "Henry Poole is Here" might just be the film I was thinking of when it comes to a movie about faith. It still manages to maintain a sense of the abstract, a fair degree of subtlety, and artfulness. Sure, the last act gets pretty heavy handed, but I hope that more people will check this one out and entertain the questions it asks the skeptic in all of us - what if?

Henry Poole (Luke Wilson) has just moved to an older suburban neighborhood in Southern California seeking solitude. Upon moving in, he gives his realtor the message that he actually won't be staying very long. Within a few days of his arrival, he meets a very inquisitive Latino neighbor named Esperanza who seems all too happy and cheerful amidst Henry's dour demeanor. One morning, he goes outside to find Esperanza in elated affect while observing his backyard wall. She claims that it is an image of Jesus Christ. Suddenly things start happening in Henry's life as a result.

Several things make "Henry Poole is Here" a really great movie. The characters are drawn pretty realistically. I was convinced of each characters emotional struggles, and found that when specific things happened in their life, it was not a stretch to believe it (save for one subplot which felt unnecessary). Second, the cinematography was beautiful. The movie was shot in La Mirada, but more beautifully than a film of this type deserves. Great point of view shots, some great tracking shots, effective use of slow motion, and even beautifully contrasting colors. Particularly, the inner house's blue painted walls with the aging brown ceiling looked wonderful (I watched the film on blu ray, and I can confidently say that this is one of the best looking blu ray discs I have ever seen).

However, what makes the film work is that it approaches faith in Christ and miracles very openly. It nicely balances Henry's skepticism with Esperanza's faith. It would be unfair to make the film an atheists vs. believer’s conflict. It really seems to hit on the skeptic that resides in all of us. How many of us have read Christ's miracles to bring sight to the blind or walking to the lame? Could it still happen today? I can think of many charismatic denominations that have been vehemently opposed - even denounced - by non-charismatic denominations because they believe that the miracles in the Bible continue regularly today. Some conservative churches seem to have a real lack of faith in the literal power of Christ so frequently written about in the Bible.

Still, the film manages to ask these questions while not preaching to the viewer. The discussions I anticipate that could be had afterwards are many. I know I have heard the reports of the image of Christ burned into some food product and attracting many of the faithful. Internally, I feel bewildered that people would be so drawn to something that seems so silly.

But what if?

Doesn't God use the foolish things to shame the wise? I had to think of my own experience of miracles in front of my own eyes, and conversely disappointments when prayers went unanswered. We are all skeptical of things for a reason. Why? What would it take to move our hearts from skepticism to openness?

What helped drive these messages home was the effectiveness of the actors. Luke Wilson's hangdog face and hopeless eyes were directed in such a way as to give the man dimension. This is the best I have seen Luke Wilson act - and yes, I have seen "The Royal Tenenbaums." I doubt he will ever be any better, and that is a huge compliment. Additionally, Esperanza is portrayed and acted as annoying, but also loving. She is not the movie world's religious fanatic we have come to know and seen poorly portrayed in movies past who is portrayed as a one note moron. The film esteems her because we see that she cares about her downbeat neighbor, which is why she bursts into his life in the first place. Much can also be said of the supporting actors, such as George Lopez in a small but genuine role as a priest.

The film gets too heavy towards the end with extended music sequences and overly drawn out emotional climaxes. Most of the music is outstanding - particulraly the score - but there are a few duds in the bunch. It reminded a little of the ethereal "Crash" soundtrack.

Apparently Henry Poole has quite the back-story, but much of it was edited out which I think helps the film more than hurts it. As the movie progresses, we learn more and more about who Henry Poole is and how he came to be. It is effective and it works. Though the characters all seem to have a story, the movie nicely keeps it focused on Henry's without sidetracking too much and losing its focus.

In a world where it is easy to shut off and let our own cynicism and skepticism forcefully override possibilities, "Henry Poole is Here" is an uplifting, even hopeful experience. One of the things I criticized "Fireproof" for was its lack of subtlety (which admittedly was not its purpose) and its lack of an artful soul. "Henry Poole is Here" was more of an effective film for me in the realm of faith as an emotional, thought provoking, and even entertaining experience. Don't miss out on this little gem of a movie, and don't forget to ask yourself: what if?

Fireproof

(Originally posted in February 2009)

So, take a guess. Which film over the last year set box office records and made among the biggest profits of the last year? If you said "The Dark Knight," you'd be half right. The biggest surprise was the Kirk Cameron stoner comedy "Fireproof."

Nah, I'm just kidding brah. It was more of a drama than a comedy.

The truth is that when you make a movie for half a million bucks and it grosses 33 million, that's a pretty sizable return on your investment. It certainly had studios turning their head once again as they did with Mel's Passion. Critics seemed to not enjoy it much, but churches packed the theaters. Make no mistake - Joe and Suzy moviegoer probably didn't see the trailer and think to themselves "It's like Backdraft, only with that guy from Growing Pains!" No, they probably saw it on invitation from a friend who goes to church. I finally saw it for the first time on a marriage retreat over the weekend. The movies audience is so built in and preach to the choir that a retreat attendee, who when he found out I hadn't seen the movie, jokingly stated "and you call yourself a Christian?"

I guess my faith now depends on my attendance of a film. Go figure.

"Fireproof" tells the story of a firefighter (played by Kirk Cameron with surprising believability and capability) who is dedicated to his job and his co-workers, living by the mantra that he will never leave his partner behind. Yet, the partner he has committed to - his wife - is ready to leave him. His marriage is ready to collapse, and he can't put the pieces together why. The film then proceeds to tell their story.

"Fireproof" can be judged on two levels: filmmaking (or art) and message movie. Considering context and purpose in the making of any film provides the angle from which many films are judged. No one expected "Kung Fu Panda" to be "Schindler's List" and likewise no one expected a comic book movie about a man and bats to do more than entertain...but we all have our expectation breakers, don't we?

As a piece of art - "Fireproof" plain sucks. It is awkwardly paced and it contains the dubious hallmarks of Christian entertainment - melodramatic story with heavy overacting, a conversion sequence, a complete lack of subtlety (no character shows you how they are feeling, they all are required to tell us verbally as though we can't figure it our for ourselves), and poor attempts at humor (the white guy is gonna dance like he lives in the hood...Hilarious!). And don't tell me this is an issue of budget either. Plenty of independent cinema is made artfully (some would say the bigger the budget, the lesser the art) on small cash.

"Fireproof" is also too overt in its storytelling and leaves little room for the abstract. There is no room for the viewer to apply the movie as they see it, it tells you what it wants you to feel and how you should feel about it. Visually, the cinematography is awful. Camera angles are flat and lack depth (there may be memorable sequences, but not much could be said of lasting images), and the film lacks any visual identity. The camera does not enhance the story or characters, it lazily watches them. The music is syrupy in places with "Third Day" garbage type alternative songs, and it features not 1, but multiple montages with some "rockin" tunes. Last, some of the stereotypes bordered on offensive (why do all the black women in the movie say "mmhmm" at the end of every sentence?).

But...

The movie is actually refreshing as a message. I recognize the film's context: it was not made to be 8 1/2: the sequel. It was clearly made to preach a message, and as a sermon it has many bright spots. It features a compelling dilemma - if your marriage sucks, why? What can you do about it? The movie has a linear purpose and point that you will either appreciate or not - it's that simple.

Also refreshing is that "Fireproof" not only presents a dilemma, but it gives the viewer a resource to try out should they share the dilemma (provided you can go pick it up for 15 more bucks at your local bookstore). It is nice to hear some practical "try this" advice. I think having a tangible step for couples to take is greatly beneficial.

Last, if anything you view in life has a clear purpose to help resuscitate your marriage, it can't be all bad right? Same goes with the movie. To watch it means that like any sermon, you are expected to talk about it with those around you afterwards. I liked that.

So where does it leave things at the end of the day? Is it a movie? A sermon? I think it tries to be both, but it miserably fails at the art part. I still have to admire that it is independent filmmaking - the church that made the film obviously believes in their vision and they are financing something they believe in with little studio insider influence. Like it or not, that is the spirit of independent cinema.

Yet, it makes me sad that Christians still struggle to make compelling cinema. There seems to be a distrust in the audience, that if the message is not so specific and overt, they won't get it. If the content is not free of reality - the fact that real people sometimes use "bad" words, have sex outside of marriage, etc - then the message is somehow obstructed. Nor is the other side true, that all films must contain a certain degree of despicable acts in order to be believable.

It saddens me that we don't have much in the way of compelling art that glorifies God. Remember - Christianity used to be at the forefront of art in the classical sense - the majestic chapels built and canvassed around the world, the beautiful music of Bach, etc. Not much can be said now.

It is not to say that "Fireproof" is entirely without merit or purpose. Many individuals have and will see the film and be inspired to do something about their marriage. No amount of crappy movie making in the world could argue against that. It just sets the tone for more uninteresting films that do little to enhance their message beyond the target audience.

For the reader - what films would you recommend that meet the balance of artful yet spiritually relevant? I am curious as to what you would suggest...

Rachel Getting Married

“Rachel Getting Married” has the kind of insight and truthfulness that Wes Anderson and Noah Baumbach wish they could communicate regarding family dysfunction. “The Royal Tenenbaums” was cartoony, “Margot at the Wedding” felt too alienated from reality, and “The Squid and the Whale” while great, has a lesser degree of the alienation.

“Rachel Getting Married” stars Anne Hathaway as a recovering addict with mountains of pains, regrets, and destruction from her addictive life. As the film progresses, stories come out, and the sequences build upon themselves revealing history and secrets. The movie is a handheld cameraman’s fantasy of recording dysfunction for 2 straight hours.

The movie plays its characters and themes spot on. I have arrived at a point where a film has to really do something right to convince me regarding its portrayal of dysfunction and/or therapy. Rachel gets it right. The AA scenes are real and convincing. Hathaway’s character is written well and acted realistically. The family system is also portrayed with textbook predictability regarding addiction: Essentially, when one person is an addict in a family, the family often scapegoats the individual and makes them the family whipping post. Rather than individual members taking responsibility for their actions, they focus on the addict. Rather than being vulnerable, they make it the addicts fault. Rather than dealing with the way we hurt one another in a family, it’s easier to negatively focus on the more overt addict. Everyone plays a role and is still responsible.

When Rachel’s sister comes home for Rachel’s wedding, the writer and director give a solid picture of a family functioning on dysfunction until the addict comes home and blows it apart. These scenes are played out with tension not unlike a good thriller – what will she say? How will she embarrass herself? It’s to the films credit that things are portrayed the way they are that this type of tension exists. It probably doesn't hurt that this was directed by Jonathan "Silence of the Lambs" Demme either.

Each family member plays typical roles: The Father is a passive man who refuses to be real, insisting instead on trying to make people laugh and draw attention away from the real issues. The biological Mother is cold and withdrawn, parenting her adult daughter like a child. The self centered, narcissistic addict who – in spite of it being her sisters wedding – insists on taking grand opportunities to draw attention to herself. I could go on and on.

“Rachel Getting Married” had me worried with Anne Hathaway in the lead. In fact, when the movie opens with a shot of her face in her scenester haircut, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud – this is Ms. “Princess Diaries” Anne Hathaway trying to be tough. However, 5 minutes in I lost track of her goodie-goodie roles and was able to focus on her character. She really deserved her Oscar nomination.

While “Rachel Getting Married” plays through to its burnt out, exhausting finish, I couldn’t help but think about the purpose of film in general. Some of us want to be entertained, some of us want to be enlightened, some of us want to be challenged, some want all 3. The movie will do more for those who find their entertainment in the challenges the movie presents about the family system. However, don’t go in expecting a fun family drama that resolves itself by the end. While some may feel the film tries too hard to communicate pain and brokenness, I actually felt the film dealt with it so well. The reality is this – we are all at some level in pain or broken. None of our families is perfect. But we are still family. As one family member poignantly states in a toast to the group, “this is what heaven will be like.”

Indeed.

Who I'd Like To Meet

When I lived in Malibu for 4 years, I heard an unspoken “thou shalt not talk with the famous” rule. It wasn’t hard to resist the temptation to strike up conversations with John Stamos or Tony Danza (so…uh…are you still the boss?), and talking to Britney while she jets away with her kids and 50 paparazzi is impossible. It’s unavoidable when they play on your softball team, but those are rare exceptions. However, most of us did have one person that regardless of whomever we were with or whatever we were doing, we would have gone out of our way to talk with them. I started thinking about this “rule” while reading up a bit more on Marjoe Gortner.

Marjoe Gortner is a dropout evangelical. You know that kid in Bible class who knew all the answers, but when he was an adult was a deeply committed nothingist? Marjoe may sort of be that person. Raised a charismatic pentacostal, a preacher by the age of 4 (and abused along the way), Marjoe epically threw off the shackles of Christian business-ism in Samson like fashion.

Marjoe was the subject of an academy award winning documentary of the same name where he went around doing revival tours because he was short on cash. He brought a documentary film crew along with him because they would film his sermons, interactions with the faithful, and poignant one on one confessions. The catch was that he never believed a word of the faith part. He was in it for the money. On camera, he had a certain believability that probably would have fooled me as much as you. He wanted to show the world that you didn’t need church to have a spiritual experience. By association, Marjoe's film tried to teach the world that this new Christian movement was really just a bunch of hucksters and thieves, and he knew how to con as good as any other.

By today’s standards, the film lets me down and energizes me in equal measures. I am glued to the screen by Marjoe who appears to be a gifted vocalist for the pentacostal choir. His stage presence is catchy, like that punk rock band you saw once at a small venue in high school and haven’t seen or heard from since. Some of his sermons also had a fair amount of theological depth that seminarians today often convolute to the faithful.

The let down of the film is in its fascination of Marjoe and the Christian movement at the time. The cameras just roll while he preaches and we observe. It’s the same shtick ad nauseum for much of the film. It ultimately unbalances the person of Marjoe against the myth of Marjoe. After thinking about it more today, I have come to realize that contextually the filmmakers wondered who those crazy Christians were. What were they saying? What is the hippie Jesus people movement? What exactly was happening under those tents where alternate substances weren’t used to cause vibrating humans who talk in jello speech? Contextually and historically the film is curious, but today it comes across as unfocused and repetitive.

Marjoe remains a constantly interesting figure to me because of the one on one conversation’s where his voice does not fluctuate in volume or directedness. He somberly talks of being raised by an abusive Mom and Dad whose love was dependent upon his ability to memorize a script. Instead of being able to play outside with other kids, he had to stay in and memorize Bible verses and sermon cues. Think The Jackson 5, but for preachers. In the film he shares a few brief tricks of the trade to help fill up a minister’s pocket. All the while, I am endlessly fascinated.

I feel connected to Marjoe for reasons I can only try and explain. I grew up in a Christian home where church attendance was a regular part of the week, like school or Tuesday taco night. I led worship and passionately led others in singing the songs. I started and led a Bible study on my Jr. High campus and led others to Christ before I could shave. I feel like in many ways, I know him. He and I would have sat next to one another on stage while being broadcast on KWVE before the legions of Calvary-ites. He would have probably done a good “performance” for the crowd and wooed many to Christ, so long as the money (or more specifically - love from his parents) kept coming in.

Still, in many ways I have no idea who the man is. My parents never abused me or made me stay home from playing with friends to memorize Bible verses. I asked of my own accord to lead worship because it was always fun to play music with friends, especially when such obvious, droning, “4 chords with a key change” songs were easy to teach to this 12 year old rock star in the making. Plus, I do love Jesus, which helps. Still, I knew what Marjoe looked like in my youth group – he was the restricted, socially awkward, bug eyed Bible smasher on Balboa island. I feel like I knew that serial youth groupie, but never had any idea who they really were.

So, yeah I have a famous person I would go out of my way to meet. A student on my Residence Life staff unknowingly met this person. While serving drinks as a bartender at a cocktail party as part of a routine catering service, this famous person said to him, “I bet you’re the guy who forgets to put on his condom, aren’t you?” I would have babbled something about Fellini and then drooled a little bit on my shirt. Then, I would have posted on a message board at imdb.com about how I met Martin Scorsese and he was a really cool guy who likes to talk about condoms.

Today though, I add that I want to meet Marjoe. It’s a crazy idea to me in some respects because I have no idea what I would say. I mean, consider his company – I really wanted to meet Bjork, a Go-Bot, and Martin Scorsese (still true to that one). I don’t have a pre-packaged message for him. I wouldn’t try and share the gospel with a guy who used to sell it like a can of Coca Cola. I think I’d just shake nervously a little bit, and then talk to him. He is probably amongst the most wounded of individuals out there. He was abused, a faker, and later a semi failed actor with roles in such classics as "American Ninja 3." But I still would want to be in his company and ask him about what his fascinating life was like. I’d want to do a sort of follow up to the films many gaps.

I typically am triggered when I see overprotective parents who uses Christianity as a punishment to their children. It scares me. I see someone being abused. I don't hear Jesus invitation to "Let the little children come to me." When your child’s love and relationship with you is dependent upon their ability to quote the Bible, sing a song, attend church (etc), then the child is your little wooden toy. They don’t exist to develop into who God made them to be, they exist to be a feather in your cap. I don’t know what it's like to be a parent – to worry about my son or daughter when they go out at night. Who are they with? What are they doing? Are they safe? But I do know what its like to be a son. Marjoe never really did. Maybe if I see him someday, I’ll buy him a juice box and teach him how to kick a soccer ball. It’d probably be more interesting than talking about condoms.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1bnyNwRKDrY&feature=channel_page

Waltz With Bashir

I used to work with preschool aged children diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome, a mild form of autism. One of my co-workers ended up becoming a pretty close friend of mine. In between wiping boogers off of our arms that the kids tried to give as a gift, or help them figure out what their task was, he and I would talk about life, religion, and films.

One such film he recommended that caught my eye via the golden globes was “Waltz With Bashir.” “Waltz With Bashir” is an animated documentary. The filmmaker Ari Folman made it by interviewing his subjects in his own search to understand strange dreams he was having revolving around a massacre during a Lebanese/Israeli war. Folman was an Israeli soldier. As he talks to these individuals, he gets closer to the realities of the war. It all culminates into a final sequence so devastatingly powerful, you simply have to see it to experience it.

Folman then took all of the interviews, spliced them together into a script, had the individuals read their lines in the studio with a bit of acting, animated it all, and gave us “Waltz With Bashir.” If it sounds ambitious, that’s because it is. No one has ever made a film like it before.

Interestingly, I think that this film (as Roger Ebert says) couldn’t have been made any other way. He is examining dreams, memory, and history through his own recollection. Animation allows him to project the surrealism inherent in these individual topics. It leaves room for the abstract, which dreams often contain. There are scenes of beautifully simple orchestral music which enhance these sometimes frightening, violent, and erotic images. At times, the aural and visual come together in a sublime, trance like way that transports you into a different world.

The animation emits a particular style, but this is a rare case where the style isn’t there for the sake of style itself. If I see one more movie titled artistically like Juno, I am going to puke. The style of the art and the images on screen enhance the visual narrative. Without the style in which the story is told, this would be a lesser film.

Interestingly, Folman stated in an interview that he loathes the American idea of war film where men depict a certain brotherhood that makes the fighting almost seem cool. Even though we see them fighting in horrific conditions, you might still say you could live through it if Tom Hanks was your commanding officer, or if Private Joker was in your company. Here, none of the soldiers appear like brothers. You don’t want to be them. There isn’t a tough guy, a comedian, and a brainy guy. There are a bunch of guys who look and feel a certain numbness. Folman states that this was his experience, and I thought it was a refreshing take on who a soldier is.

I had one minor problem with the movie. This is a low budget film, and the animation suffers for it. In a Pixar age, it is that much more present. Some of the movements are very wooden and simplistic. I found this flaw easy to forgive because the style is so great, but it can be noticeable if you’re expecting something with the financial clout of Disney or Dreamworks.

Some have faulted the movie as a documentary for being unable to explain the history of the conflict. It does not "document" a period of history. I was admittedly hard pressed to understand the context of the film due to my general lack of knowledge about the conflict presented on screen. This lack of context takes away from some of the impact of the narrative because it is assumed that we as the viewer know what is going on. However, I saw this more as an individual’s conflict within a narrative. If this is a documentary about a man’s involvement in war, we don’t necessarily need all of the details of the war – we want the experience of the man. Thus, the film is less about the war and more about how man copes with his involvement in it.

The film should also be praised for its careful examination of healing. Folman is being quite open with himself to the viewers, as he clearly suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The film’s flashbacks cement this diagnosis. However, Folman utilizes art as a healer in the film, as he says that by confronting his past and making this film, art helped him to heal. It is really a beautiful testimony and helps to fill a redemptive void in the film.

“Waltz With Bashir” is definitely not for the faint of heart. There are scenes of explicit violence and sex, but this is a film where I think the majority of it has a justifiable purpose. I don’t think Folman needed to go to the lengths he did to animate what one character views on a TV screen, but it is nicely contrasted with some of the other animated nudity in the film. Plus, I am aware that if I complain about graphic nudity in a film with graphic violence while saying nothing of the violence, I am simply putting a hypocrisy target on my chest.

See the film. If it gets hard to follow, stay with it for the knock out of the ending. It will leave you stunned and amazed at what happened. This is a movie which completely deserved its Golden Globe for best foreign film and is one you must go out of your way to see.

The Hangover

Women, I have a secret to reveal about your man that you may not be aware of: You are well aware that we can behave respectfully - even pious - at church, with your parents, and in most professional contexts. However, when men congregate together, we have the tendency to resort to being crass with each other.

Very crass.

Not about you - we would never do that. We are angels about you. But about each other - non stop. We are as enamored with our male anatomy today as we were when we first discovered what existed between our legs in the infant era. We have come to accept one of the sacred truths in life: Penises are funny, and we must make many jokes about them.

Go ahead men - grab that stone on the dirt floor, pick it up over your head and hold it in a raised, ready to throw posture. But before you do - whom of you when in very specific contexts hasn't let loose about all manner of prudish things? What about that certain roommate in college who paraded around in specifically selected "clothing" while the rest of us were on the floor bursting with laughter? Very recently, I visited with a couple folks whom I respect as men of deep faith (who shall remain anonymous) and the jokes were in constant throw all night. It was fun, and we bonded deeper as a result.

This of course justifies everything.

Which leads me to "The Hangover" a movie directed by the guy who brought you "Old School." "The Hangover" is about a group of guys who decide to drink the night away in Vegas for a bachelor party. Problem is, they wake up the next morning with a baby, several animals, a missing groom, and no recollection of the preceding "fun" from the night before. The movie then has the guys piecing together what happened for the next 90 minutes.

To the movies credit, the premise is actually really clever. The idea of a gradually unfolding mystery added in with the raunchy humor actually gave more reason to watch than other films of this ilk. If nothing else, I wanted to know what happened next. It also had more than one funny scene.

The problems though added up for me pretty fast. I guess it's hard for me to care about the characters because they are all so care-less. Seriously, who ever thought it was a good idea to have their bachelor party 2 days before their wedding, especially if the plan is to get as trashed as possible? While some of the guys are genuinely endearing, I can't feel too much love for a group of guys who don't care in the first place.

Second, while the premise is clever, I wanted the writers to do more with it. I don't want to reveal spoilers, but certain characters magically re-appear at the mid point of the movie. It was too convenient. The writing got soft and lazy as the movie played out. You can accuse me of over thinking, but I have been accused of worse.

Third, while many of the jokes were funny, not all of them registered with me. Before you call me a prude, I think "Role Models" (along with "Wedding Crashers") is one of the funniest films I have seen in the last 4 or 5 years. That movie worked for me through and through. "The Hangover" wasn't nearly as consistent, and it left me disappointed.

So yes, I think raunchy jokes can be funny (and "The Hangover" has a healthy supply), and I knew what I would be getting myself into by seeing this movie. I don't fault the film for that. I fault the film for its characters. There still has to be a sense of groundedness or sensibility at some level. These guys aren't heroes to me, they are ultimately fools. The film also makes limited application of its great premise. And the fact is - next year, when the next movie comes along that relies not simply on a good premise but straight raunch, "The Hangover" won't be as funny. That's why certain movies are products of their era that aren't as funny to new viewers (Anyone still re-watching Porky's on a regular basis?). The movies that last are the ones that have solid characters who we care about, and a great story (regardless of genre).

It's not to say that "The Hangover" is by any stretch a strictly bad movie, it's that I think they could have done more with what is there. I know that millions in cash at the box office disagrees with me, but hey, plenty of commercially winsome movies have never done anything for me. In the range of its context, "The Hangover" for me is slightly below Judd Apatow's directed movies, if only because in those films there is a big heart beneath the raunchy jokes. I liked Steve Carrell in "40 Year Old Virgin" and wanted him to find the right woman. Seth Rogen's character had to grow up in "Knocked Up" and move from being a child to be a responsible adult. In "The Hangover," 4 guys just needed to get home before it was too late.

As a result, it may not be easy for the viewer to remember much of what happened the next morning.

Bruno

I have already written about some of my observations of Sasha Baron Cohen in a previous post. To summarize, I find him really smart for dressing up as stereotypes and making both viewers of the films and the people who unknowingly star in them interact with the ridiculousness of those stereotypes. But I find Baron Cohen hypocritical for using stereotypes to be the people he interacts with. Second, while attempting to promote tolerance, he unintentionally pushes the question of tolerance too far – namely, when do things in life become intolerable?

Carrying this thought into his latest full length film significantly deflated whatever weight it was meant to carry. I disliked “Bruno” the film. A lot. In fact, I’d go as far to say that of all of the movies I have ever seen, Bruno is among the worst of them. Like, not even a doubt about it. As a comedy, it was flat. As a film, it was boring. As a commentary, its message was obscured by too much filth.

And remember - this is coming from a guy who likes Sacha Baron-Cohen.

I thought that the Ali-G series was mostly great. I found Bruno the character to be really funny and deviously clever in the TV show. Same goes for Borat and Ali-G. As a feature film, I found Bruno to be less than sustainable.

There are several reasons Bruno didn’t work for me as a film. For starters, the novelty is gone. I am not shocked anymore when Bruno humiliates himself or someone else on screen. It feels one trick, which is interesting because the series didn’t. But Baron Cohen’s relentless attempts to promote Borat to the ends of the earth ended up making the shtick awfully boring. Since Bruno follows nearly the same formula, I didn’t care as much.

Perhaps the series worked so well because the novelty of it was still brand new. Additionally, the short time format as a series works great, but as a movie it doesn't work nearly as well. Could you imagine if MTV made a movie out of Punk’d footage with a plot loosely strewn in?

Second, Borat's American overexposure clearly made those previously unaware of Baron Cohen newly aware. As a result, much of what is on screen feels staged. The best example would be the Richard Bey show sequence. I could swear that the audience was half made up of actors and actresses, as all of their expressions felt too rehearsed.

Third, it just wasn’t funny. Perhaps this relates to the novelty aspect, but I was hardly laughing or in shock. Not that the movie wasn’t shocking – there is plenty of outrageous behavior for all to see – but if it Baron Cohen interactions with people feels staged, then the joke is lost. Most of the shock was seeing people’s foolishness on display. Here, it feels more about Baron Cohen and the film suffers for it.

As was previously mentioned, the “mission” or “message” of Baron Cohen feels really hypocritical due to the stereotyping he engages in, and the movie features loads of it. Perhaps this is best displayed in the well publicized cage fight finale in Arkansas where Baron Cohen makes a huge display of being straight before nearly having sex with another man in the ring. Each crowd member is hand picked from the stereotyping of hillbilly country. What if this was done in another part of the country?

Lastly, much of the content of the film went beyond comfortable for laughs and it didn’t work at all. It was trash. The ridiculousness of the opening sequence where we see Baron Cohen and his lover engaging in all manner of sexual experimentation was too stupid to illicit any laughs from me. Yet the film goes about 8 miles further during a swinger house party sequence. It was completely filthy and in poor taste. Baron Cohen's point may have been that if these individuals treat sex with such disregard, then so can he and ultimately the viewer. It was as though Baron Cohen made the naked fight in Borat the base level for humor in Bruno, whereas in Borat it felt like the spike in content.

Through a popular movie website, I was linked to a film through a top 10 type list about mocumentaries. One particular film (which I refuse to mention) has been described as being among, if not at the top of, a list of the world's most objectionable films ever made. As I read about the film, I learned that its defenders called it "art" because of the final line in the movie: “maybe we’re the ones who are the real cannibals.” Somehow this line made all of the films brutally explicit gore, sexual violence, and on screen animal killing acceptable. I can't help but ask - Where is the point when one goes too far to make a point for all their "art" or even good intentions?

I am not equating Bruno with aforementioned film, but the analogy works closely enough for me.