How to Get "Let It Go" Out of Your Head: The Hadestown Cure
Symptoms of a devastating epidemic struck my coworker Julia yesterday. She slumped forward on her desk, pressed her hands against her ears, and groaned, “Oh, it’s still in my head. It’s been there for days. It just keeps going and going and it won’t stop.”
This mysterious and severe affliction has swept across America and around the world. Parents are the population that suffers most.Read more
Looking Elsewhere: MFA Adventures, April Foolishness, and More
From April Fool's antics to coming attractions, this installment of "Looking Elsewhere" is loaded with goodness.
Please forgive the slow-down in posts lately: I have just returned from ten days on Whidbey Island. It wasn't a vacation. It was the third of five residencies that are the main events of my adventure in Seattle Pacific University's MFA in Creative Writing program. Ten days of reading, writing, and relationships filled me with inspiration for new writing endeavors. The busy schedule gave me few opportunities to keep up with news and social networking — which was good. I needed the break.
Most importantly, I wrapped up work with my first MFA mentor — Paula Huston, who has been a constant source of counsel and encouragement — and began working with my new mentor: Lauren Winner, author of Mudhouse Sabbath, Still, and a new book called Wearing God. By the way, Image's Good Letters blog just posted a two part interview with Winner about that book. Check it out: Part One, Part Two.
But the world did not slow down in my absence. I returned to my office at SPU to find a mountain of email that required my attention. And I also found a whole new world of news from the worlds of movies, music, and more.
Here are some of my discoveries...
Up on my sweet-smelling soapbox
I used some hand soap today that smelled powerfully of fresh watermelon.
And I got to thinking about what a simple trick it plays on the mind: "I'm smelling something that makes me think of sweet fresh fruit, so this soap must have made my hands very clean and thoroughly sanitized!"Read more
Song of the Sea (2014): A Conversation With Animator and Author Ken Priebe
Your next favorite animated movie and one of 2014's most glorious motion pictures — Song of the Sea — is now available on Amazon Instant, YouTube, Vudu, iTunes, and Google Play. It's also out now on blu-ray and DVD.
In 2010, The Secret of Kells arrived like the first animated movie from heaven itself. It was so different — so unique in its style, in its storytelling, even in its voice work — that I did not immediately appreciate its greatness. But over the next two years, I watched it again and again, loving it more every time. Now I've planted it firmly at the top of my Favorite Films of 2010 list, over Toy Story 3.
The Secret of Kells is gorgeous, dramatic, funny, moving, alive with mystery, and bursting with details that continue to emerge viewing after viewing. Greatness like that does not come easy, so it's no surprise that it took so many years for Tomm Moore and his team to come up with another feature-length film. Song of the Sea, like The Secret of Kells, earned an Oscar nomination (and I suspect that both of them would have won if more Oscar voters had actually seen them on a big screen).
Carrying the elaborate visual style of The Secret of Kells even further, Song of the Sea weaves real-world particularity and the magic of Irish mythology together into two hours of visual imagination, musical whimsy, and unpredictable storytelling that shows up the dearth of imagination in American animated features. It follows a brother and sister — Ben and Saoirse (prounounced SEER-shuh) — who lost their mother in mysterious circumstances when Saoirse was born. So when they are taken away from their father and their lighthouse home by their demanding grandmother and dragged off to live in the city, their broken hearts are broken all over again. But before long they begin to realize that their mother's disappearance and their grandmother's tyranny are part of a large and troubling mystery. So they set out on adventures involving selkies, owls, fairies, and the wicked Owl Witch. It's enthralling.
When Kells arrived, I turned in a two-part conversation with film reviewer Steven Greydanus, and it was published at Image. (You can read that here: Pt. 1, Pt. 2.)
This time, I invited animator and author Ken Priebe — a man whose imagination seems to exist in a state of perpetual invention. Ken literally wrote the book (books, plural, actually) on stop animation, and we have found that we have very similar passions for the works of Jim Henson, Pixar, and, yes, Tomm Moore. Soon I'll be writing about Ken's own creative work — an upcoming book called Gnomes of the Cheese Forest. But here, we couldn't wait to compare notes on Song of the Sea.
Ken and I spoke at the end of February, while Song of the Sea was playing a short run in Seattle. I've done a bit of editing to eliminate spoilers.
Overstreet:
It seems disgraceful to even mention the words "Oscar" and "animation" in the same sentence after the exclusion of The LEGO Movie this year.
But I can't get too angry at the Academy, as they've nominated both of Tomm Moore's films: The Secret of Kells in 2009, and Song of the Sea, which is only now, here in the last days of February 2015, finally playing in Seattle.
But you're the animation expert: Can you give us a quick elevator-speech run-down of the animated films that the Academy nominated? (And let's pretend that The LEGO Movie was nominated.)
Priebe:
I'm sorry to say The Tale of Princess Kaguya is the only one I haven't had a chance to see yet, but the trailer is amazing so I'm anxious to watch it. The expressive hand-drawn style is a breath of fresh air in a CG-saturated world, and it's nice to see experimental foreign films like this be recognized.
As for the others, I enjoyed them all on different levels. It's pretty much a given that the production design and character animation on all of them were excellent and the right mediums for the different stories they were telling.
But The LEGO Movie and Song of the Sea are the only ones that kept my head and heart pondering over them long after leaving the theater. Boxtrolls, How to Train Your Dragon 2, and Big Hero 6 were loud and fun but fell flat for me in terms of getting emotionally involved with the characters (Big Hero 6 came close, but not close enough). While The LEGO Movie pulled you along like a freight train and then slowed down enough for a poignant, beautiful finale, Song of the Sea was like a steady symphonic poem where the imagery, tempo, and emotions gave you plenty of room to breathe and soak it all in through the whole story, with no extra noise to distract you.
My elevator has stopped now. What do you think?
Overstreet:
I'm in a very similar elevator: Haven't seen Princess Kaguya yet. And I think the Oscar should've gone to The LEGO Movie for how personal and affecting it was even as it was made with standard-setting animation.
But Song of the Sea would be a close runner-up for me. I love the way the way the colors, shapes, and textures of the paint and the sketches in Song of the Sea reflect so much personality and imagination and personal passion. I was awake and alive and attentive to this film in a way that few other films inspired from me because, as the story progressed, it was unpredictable, overflowing with ideas, and not a single scene was treated as filler: There was a visual extravagance and enthusiasm to every single chapter.
It felt to me that Song of the Sea was intended more for younger children than Tomm Moore's previous film, The Secret of Kells. The brother and sister seem very real, talking and playing and fighting and behaving the way young siblings do. I appreciated how much personality they've been given. And the big floppy dog, Cu — "Cu" is Gaelic for "dog" — was a big hit with the children around me in the theater.
While this film has one clear villain, the scary points were not nearly as scary as they were in Kells — in fact, the villain's attempts to intimidate and terrify are pretty funny.
Still, as movies for young children go, Song of the Sea deals with surprisingly heavy adult themes about loss, sorrow, and the importance of moving through emotions instead of shoving them aside. To be honest, I felt that some of those themes were explored in ways that were rewarding and moving. I teared up more than once. But this movie, unlike Kells, seemed calculated at times to produce emotional responses. And I was especially disappointed that the film's climactic song sounds so suspiciously close to that distinctively enchanting song that was a highlight of The Secret of Kells.
Priebe:
It's certainly lighter in tone, and a more personal, intimate story.
There were tears for me too, even more so on the second viewing seeing it with my 8-year-old daughter Ariel. She also loves Secret of Kells — in particular the character of Aisling and her song. (Did you catch Aisling's little cameo on the bus with the other trick-or-treaters?)
Overstreet:
No! Oh, wow. Now I have to go see it again.
Priebe:
When I asked Ariel what she thought, she also noted the similarities with Kells, including the song. The one difference is that in this one, the song itself is almost another character in the film, and a recurring motif that is woven through the story (even the title). In Kells, the song is a highlight of one particular surprising moment in the story.
The first time I watched Song of the Sea, one story element stood out for me as a bit calculated: When Ben [went looking for the key after his] father threw the chest and key into the ocean. ... I also found Ben's character arc to be a bit subtler and less intense than young Brendan's was in Kells. These things didn't bother me as much the second time around, however. There are still elements of the plot I'm pondering over which may unfold with more meaning in further viewings.
We also noticed things like the power line towers being in the shape of owls, and there were all kinds of other visual parallels that kept popping up to reflect elements of the story into the design of the film. The backgrounds also frame the characters in interesting ways, echoing their shapes and forms. I love that, and would agree that visually, as I like to say, there is "not a wasted frame" in the way everything fits together. I wish more animated films could do this as well as this one does; it's something that 2D does particularly well since the compositions are created more flat as opposed to a virtual 3D "set."
Big Hero 6 also dealt with loss of a family member as a theme, but not with the same level of resonance and beauty as this film does. I'm still trying to figure out why, but I think it may have something to do with the mystical elements, connection to nature, and mythological motifs vs. a story that is driven by lots of fast action and technology, which we are all too bombarded with these days.
Overstreet:
For me, Big Hero 6's problems began with the title: It's not a reference to the boy or the robot — it's the name of a superhero team. The first half of the movie works hard to make me care about this boy and his robot, and they would have been more than enough to keep me interested through the next hour. But the farther it moves into the establishment of a whole team of superheroes, none of whom are as interesting or important as the boy and his 'bot, the more it became just another rock'em-sock'em Marvel comic book movie.
Song of the Sea, on the other hand, keeps its focus in the right place. There are other important characters, and there's a lot that it wants to unpack for us about Irish mythology. But it manages to do that without ever diluting the story of Ben and Saoirse. And (you know this is important to me) I love how the villain becomes something more than just a villain — there's a real story there about fear and grief, and the movie makes us want to see a divided family reconciled rather than a Good Guy defeating a Bad Guy.
I'm glad you brought up the way the design contributes to the storytelling and reinforces themes and ideas. I love how the awakening of the stone figures increases our attentiveness to the characters' environments, and increases our anticipation that something — anything — might happen. It gives you a sense that there are secrets under every rock, or maybe even inside them.
And yes, I loved those owl power towers. Reminded me of Twin Peaks, where both owls and power lines are symbolic of something wicked at work in the world.
I'll be curious to see where Tomm Moore goes from here. He has established a visual style unlike any other animator I can think of. There's something of Miyazaki in just how much expression, emotion, and humanity he can find in such simply drawn characters. But the elements of cultural designs — the Celtic scrollwork in The Book of Kells, the swirling Irish designs that weave their way throughout this film — may make pose challenges for him as he expands his body of work. How much of that can you do without becoming redundant?
Do you see other influences in Moore's work? I'm always curious to know what animators are thinking about when they watch someone else's animated feature.
Priebe:
I would hope that people remember to keep watching through the end credits, where several sequences from the film are shown in their "pencil-test" form before all the digital coloring and clean-up takes place. Animators especially like to geek out over that kind of stuff.
One of the biggest influences on Tomm Moore's work is what is often referred to in the animation community as "the greatest animated feature NEVER made," Richard Williams' The Thief and the Cobbler. It's notorious for being in production for 30 years only to have it taken away from Williams and ruined by the studio that distributed it, but that's a whole other story in itself. Being a huge Thief and the Cobbler fan, I had an inkling of this the first time I saw The Secret of Kells, after which Moore confirmed it at the Q&A he was present for at that particular screening. There are several interviews with him online that talk about this too. The influence of The Thief and the Cobbler is very apparent in Secret of Kells, but watching Song of the Sea I didn't feel that same level of influence. There is a witch character in the original cut of Thief and the Cobbler that is vaguely similar in spirit to the crazy old guy with the "story threads" in his beard and the owl witch, but I didn't really think about this until now.
Watching Song of the Sea, I too felt a lot more of Miyazaki's influence, in particular with the owl witch, who reminded me of the old woman from Spirited Away. I also felt echoes of painters like Gustav Klimt, and a feeling like every shot could be a moving illustration in a children's picture book. (I actually found an amazing children's book in Paris last summer called Le Petit Loup Rouge by an artist named Amelie Flechais, who I discovered later was a concept artist on Song of the Sea! I still can't read the text, as it's all in French, but I still bought a copy because the artwork is so beautiful.)
One of my favorite sequences in Song of the Sea is the car trip through Ben's hand-drawn map on their way to the city. The visual motif itself is similar to Raiders of the Lost Ark, but with such an original twist in the animation as the car weaves in and out of Ben's funny drawings. It's one of those Spielberg-ian moments that brings the film into life from a child's point of view. When they finally arrive at their grandmother's house and everything is staged very flat, orderly and symmetrical, I felt a sense of Wes Anderson creeping in too. Any filmmaker, like Moore or Anderson, can latch on to a signature visual style, but the best ones I think are those who can still surprise you from film to film, drawing or expanding on different influences each time around.
Some of the things I felt in terms of outside influences watching Song of the Sea were also related to the story. I was reminded, for instance, of George MacDonald's Princess and the Goblin in the scene where Ben follows his thread through the cave to find his sister.
I also agree it was nice to have a story about redemption and family which included a sympathetic villain, rather than an all-too-typical Hollywood showdown of "Us vs. Them" with the snarling bad guy, or the "follow your dreams and you can do anything" kind of story. Very refreshing to think about, especially during a week when we've been inundated with news of animated sequels and remakes.
Overstreet:
You've made me eager to get my hands on a copy of Le Petit Loup Rouge. I did a quick search and winced at the price of importing a copy from France. Let me know if it becomes available in the U.S. It looks gorgeous.
Priebe:
Hopefully they will release it in English someday. I'm still trying to translate the text so I can read the actual story, which seems a bit on the dark side. I'll have to show you sometime.
Overstreet:
You've also made me eager to spend some time with The Thief and the Cobbler. If I were putting together a double feature with Song of the Sea, I can't think of an animated film — outside of the obvious Miyazaki titles like Totoro or Spirited Away — that would make a good companion piece. But I would love to see a double feature of this with The Secret of Roan Inish, for its patient storytelling and focus on selkies; or with Into the West, another film about Irish mythology, oceans, and how children struggle with the loss of their mother.
Priebe:
Oooh, now you've made me eager to check out Secret of Roan Inish and Into the West! The Thief and the Cobbler would almost make a better double feature with The Secret of Kells due to the similarities in design-style, and then you could double-bill Totoro or Spirited Away with Song of the Sea... or just make a marathon out of it and watch them all! Anyone interested in knowing more about Thief and the Cobbler can check out this documentary recently released on DVD, about the making of the film.
Overstreet:
You mentioned the car trip: There were moments on the bus that reminded me of the train ride in Spirited Away — a sequence in which public transportation takes on a strange, dream-like quality.
Priebe:
Good point! I hadn't thought of that.
Overstreet:
Another distinction of the narrative: We don't get many feature films about brother-sister relationships. It seems strange. I suspect that some of the tremendous success of Frozen has to do with the fact that it's the first Disney animated feature to focus on sisterhood. I'm hoping that families discover Song of the Sea for the rare and inspiring portrait of a big brother who learns to appreciate and prioritize the well-being of his young sister.
Priebe:
I hope so too! The media generated a lot of buzz over the focus on sisterhood in Frozen, particularly comparing it to the more negative portrayal of sisterhood in Cinderella. But in 2002, Disney also released Lilo and Stitch, which had two sisters at the center of the storyline.
Overstreet:
Wow. I had completely forgotten about that.
Priebe:
Although it didn't become the cultural phenomenon that Frozen did, it was still successful and I think it's a much better film, definitely in my Top 10 favorites from Disney. Here was another story about two sisters dealing with the loss of both their parents which was told with such beauty, sadness and grace, with beautiful watercolor backgrounds like they used to do in the old days (for films like Bambi). It was produced out of their Florida studio which had less oversight by the studio executives, and I think this is partly why the directors had more creative freedom to make a very personal film with a different look and feel.
One of the ways I like to compare animated films is by whether they are artist-driven (by the personal vision of a passionate director and storyteller) or studio-driven (where it starts out as a personal vision until the studio gets too involved in requesting changes to make it "marketable."). I would put Song of the Sea, Secret of Kells, Lilo and Stitch, and Miyazaki's films in the artist-driven category. The earliest films from Disney (Snow White, Pinocchio, Fantasia) and Pixar (Toy Story, Finding Nemo, Up, etc.) I would also put there. I felt Frozen was more of a studio-driven film, as well as many of the sequels we get bombarded with.
I heard a great lecture on animation once by actor and animation critic Ed Hooks, who connected animated storytelling to the tribal visions of ancient shamans. He said a great filmmaker with a vision shares what the tribe needs to hear, not what they need to buy. What they need to hear is not always easy, and all too often the message of personal gain, follow your heart, and beating the bad guy is an easier story to sell, especially when it makes money.
All things considered, I hope Song of the Sea reaches the greater audience it deserves as it has now become available for home viewing. There is so much there on the surface, and like you said, under the surface as well, like spirits inside rocks waiting to be discovered and talked about.
One last thing I'll mention about it: At the first screening I attended last fall there was a Q&A with the film's Head of Story Nora Twomey. Someone in the audience made an comment about how they saw a connection between the film's theme of "bottling up emotions" with the alcohol bottles, and how the father in the film uses this as a way to deal with his grief at the pub rather than be closer to his family. I would pray that the redemptive quality of this beautiful story might speak to viewers on that level who may be struggling with either alcoholism, loss, or both. It's a story about family, about parents and siblings, about sacrifice, and about personal responsibility and forgiveness. We can have a tendency to bottle these things up in our lives, but it's what the tribe needs to hear.
Foxcatcher (2014)
In Seattle's Ballard neighborhood, on an overcast but warm March morning, three Jeffs sat down at Miro Tea to discuss and debate the first of three recent films they had seen, and to sip their favorite special brews — a Hibiscus Mint Julep, a Fireside Hot Chocolate, and a Hemingway.
The Contenders:
- Jeff Bay is a casual moviegoer. He's mostly interested in accessible American entertainment, and often has scheduling difficulties when he's invited to any film that qualifies as foreign, independent, or arthouse. He tends to refer characters by the names of the actors who played them.
- Jeff Bergman is a film studies instructor who is interested in cinema as an art form, and who struggles to find time enough for exploring film history while also staying abreast of what's opening internationally.
- Jeff Babbett is an assistant pastor who is interested in getting to what works of art are really about and what they mean.
They agreed to contribute to Looking Closer even though they do not get along very well. They will argue. They will high five. They will demonstrate their mysterious power for hyperlinking things they say out loud. But will they get to the Truth?
Here is a transcript of their discussion on the first of the three titles: ...
Looking Closer: So, Three Jeffs... let's talk about Foxcatcher. When this played festivals, it looked like a surefire Oscar contender. Bennett Miller won Best Director at Cannes for it. But even though Carell and Ruffalo both got Oscar nominations, and Miller got a director nomination, it wasn't even nominated for Best Picture.
It follows the true story of Olympic gold medal winners David and Mark Schultz, and how Mark ended up, in 1986, leading a wrestling team under the supervision of John DuPont of the famous DuPont family. DuPont was a troubled man whose motivations for recruiting wrestlers and wanting to build a wrestling team at his estate were strange, not to mention his leadership tactics. The more the Schultz brothers became involved with him, the more it became clear that something was wrong, that this was not going to end well at all.
How did the movie strike you?
Bay: The wrestling in this movie was so... what's the word...
Bergman: Visceral?
Bay: Visceral. Thanks, Jeff. Channing Tatum and that Hulk guy were both amazing. I completely believed they were Olympic-quality wrestlers. If the movie had focused more on their characters — David and Mark Schultz — and their quest for gold, it would have been much more exciting. And Steve Carell... he wasn't funny. Not at all. His character was so creepy that I just wanted him to go away.
Bergman: Well, what you're telling me, Jeff, is that this movie worked just like it was supposed to work: Excitement wasn't the movie's goal.
Bay: Then it succeeded. I was not excited. It kept making me more and more uncomfortable.
Bergman: It's supposed to make you uncomfortable so that you'll have to think about familiar things in a new way.
Babett: I agree. Sports movies usually focus on a very narrow storyline about overcoming odds and winning. They often cloak themselves in patriotism, and we assume that winning a gold medal or a trophy has something to do with making America proud. But what does a wrestling competition have to do with being an American? These persistent storylines, when they go unquestioned or unexamined, can condition us to accept dangerous ideas.
And what's more — there is a lot more to an athlete's life than training, the games, the championship, and the trophy ceremony. The audience gets to cheer and then walk away, but the athletes — they have to figure out what comes next. What does their life mean after they've won a gold medal? Championships may be the end of one journey, but they're the beginning of another, and that journey is often far more challenging. What do these national heroes do after they've succeeded — or failed?
Foxcatcher makes us think about that, and a whole lot more.
Bay: Well, I liked this director's last movie — Moneyball — a lot. It was much more entertaining. Brad Pitt and Jonah Hill were great. There was a lot of suspense. You really cared about the game. This movie doesn't seem particularly interested in the game.
Bergman: That's because the subject is not the game. The subject is a relationship — a relationship between a rich, lonely, alienated man and the lonely, alienated man he "buys" and exploits. This director, Bennett Miller, also made Capote — another very unsettling story about America, about crime, and about men who feel alienated and misunderstood. Miller seems particularly interested in zooming in and trying to understand his strange, sad central characters — and this time, that goes for both the wrestler Mark Schultz, played by Channing Tatum, and the rich wrestling enthusiast and self-proclaimed "coach" John DuPont, played by Steve Carell.
I'm glad to hear that you found DuPont "creepy." If you didn't, I'd be worried about you. He's supposed to make us uncomfortable.
Babett: DuPont made me uncomfortable, but more than that he made me sad.
DuPont is so interesting: He seems to have everything a man could want: Incredible wealth, beautiful property, a powerful American family, and the ability to assemble the best wrestlers in the country and appoint himself as their coach. But in spite of all of that, his life is a black hole. His mother treats him like a child. The only way he knows to pursue what he wants is to buy it... and we know how that turns out.
It's clear that his money, his privilege, and his exceptional family history separate him from "normal people" — or any people, really. The money may as well have moved him to another planet, where he has become a kind of alien. Perhaps that's what draws him to wrestling: It bring him into actual physical relationship with other bodies.
He says he values American ideals, but he seems to value them only insofar as they reinforce this myth of the greatness of his family. He wants other people to bring their expertise and talent to his property in order that their actual, substantive quality and integrity will bring a new sense of authenticity and relevance to his fading family legacy, and a new sense of identity to himself. But he has no integrity, no expertise, no eloquence — just a void, an appetite, and, because he has grown up without any apparent love or care or friendship, he has never learned how to love.
Bay: I couldn't bring myself to take him seriously because the makeup job on Steve Carell just made him look ridiculous. And when I looked up the real John DuPont, well... the makeup doesn't make him look any more like the real guy then he would without it.
Bergman: I do agree with you there. The makeup made him look like Dracula. There's a lot of Nosferatu in his performance, and in the American Transylvania of his haunted house. Which makes me wonder why Werner Herzog didn't jump on this subject matter before Miller did; it's his kind of story about a mad and obsessive loner.
Babett: Dracula isn't a bad comparison. DuPont-ula. He's living off of the blood of others, definitely. His family is, of course, the famous DuPont chemical company family. So you could speculate about how chemicals quietly play a part in all of this. Chemicals and illegal substances, like DuPont's cocaine habit: Powers that help us construct false realities, illusions, delusions.... It's a convenient metaphor for the way that voters can be enchanted by patriotic speech and then convinced to support people and agendas that are run contrary to democracy.
Bay: Yeah, DuPont goes on and on America — about men who gave their lives for freedom. But how is he any kind of patriot? He talks the talk, praising basic goodness. But behind the scenes he's a drug addict, he's buying heavy artillery for which he has no good use, and he's obsessed with proving that he's on a winning team even though he has no credibility. I half-expected to find the "Mission Accomplished" banner from the Iraq war hanging like another trophy somewhere in his house.
Babbett: There are so many rich possibilities of interpretation here.
Is Foxcatcher a film about America's increasingly desperate appeals to past glories (glories that are increasingly mythologized, at that) in order to make itself feel good about itself? Are we obsessed with the past because we realize that our compromises have caught up with us, that we've sold much of our freedom and dignity to a greedy, self-interested minority (like the DuPont family)? Yes, this film is about that.
Is it a film about how madmen attract lonely, alienated youth and turn them into minions who are willing to fight for them? Yes.
Is it a film about the insufficient or harmful father figures we embrace when our real fathers do not provide the love, faithfulness, and inspiration we need? Yes.
Is it a film about money and its dehumanizing effect? Definitely.
Bergman: That's all true, but when I think of this movie, I won't think about the obvious lessons about America, money, and abuses of power. I actually felt that the film seemed to reach the limit of those ideas about halfway through, and then all that was left was for the inevitable tragedy to play itself out.
What kept me watching was Bennett's visual composition and sound design: the tension in his images, the long silences, his embrace of ambiguity, his enthusiasm for the diegetic music of wrestling mats and shoes and colliding bodies.
The most powerful and lingering impression of the film for me has less to do with the tragedy and more to do with quiet visual expressions of alienation and isolation — of Mark Schultz's hulking body in a workout-ready uniform standing alone, uncomprehending, in an extravagantly furnished room full of portraits of historic American figures, breathing like a bull that has wandered into a museum and does not understand where it is or why, his brow furrowed in a way that makes clear he has been denied what he has a right to expect. It's like Schultz has never been taught the language necessary to ask for what he needs.
Bay: I keep thinking about poor Sienna Miller. I mean, I just saw American Sniper, and now I'm wondering, is she only applying for the roles of American wives whose physically aggressive but good-hearted husbands are doomed?
Looking Closer: So, how do you rate Foxcatcher?
Babett: It's a haunting, mesmerizing film about America's increasing identity crisis. It's about how money and privilege can distance a nation's leaders from the people and from what that nation's citizens know to be "reality." I'd give it a 7/10.
Bergman: I don't rate films. My opinions change from viewing to viewing, and what does a scale represent anyway? Art is too subjective. I'd recommend it to some people, not to others. But it's very well made, and I think it's much stronger than several of the films that were nominated for Best Picture... including the movie that won.
Bay: Thumb's up, but just barely. I wanted more wrestling.
Looking Closer: And by the way, how was your tea?
Babett: My Hemingway iced tea was excellent. A strong, sharp, bitter tang of grapefruit, sweet strawberries, and refreshing mint. Strange enough to be very interesting. And healthy.
Bergman: This Hibiscus Mint Julep would have been better if the mint were actual mint leaves, and it was a little too sweet for my taste.
Bay: I'm on my second cup of Fireside Hot Chocolate and I'm not sold on it. It's spicy and kind of strange.
Bergman: But... it's a chocolate tea drink. It's made with chai. It's healthy. It's not, you know... Hershey's.
Bay: Yeah. Not my thing.
Taylor Swift, Nirvana, Andrew Peterson, and Bob Dylan All Appear in This Headline
Imagine that your favorite band tries on a new sound, or a new look.
Imagine that fans are not happy, and they complain about it.
Imagine that the band decides to push back... in song.
It's happened before. It's happened quite frequently, actually. Taylor Swift, Bob Dylan, The Decemberists, and U2 have all answered their fans and critics in song. Read more
An Hour of Wisdom and Storytelling with Joe Henry
Joe Henry, who recorded my favorite record of 2014 (Invisible Hour), was the guest on the latest installment of the excellent podcast On Being, with Krista Tippett.
He shared a lot of wisdom about the art of songwriting and about the life of an artist. I was frequently moved and inspired, wishing I could reach for a pen (I was driving as I listened).
In a late stretch of the show, he spoke about how easy it is to feel small and invisible as an artist. He said, "I'm ashamed to think, in my early professional life, how much time I wasted and how much agony I allowed based on being treated poorly by an industry that ... brags about how poorly they treat people. I mean, it's just a fact."Read more
Soundtrack for a Day Job: Great Songs About Hard Times
Songs about this day-job, bill-paying struggle are a dime a dozen — or, rather about $16.99 a dozen in this economy. Read more
Memento or Vertigo? What's Your Favorite Film About Memory?
The long-running community of friends and colleagues called Arts and Faith has published their latest list of essential films: The Top 25 Films on Memory.
It was a privilege to participate in the discussions that led to the vote, and then to contribute some of the film summaries.
Here's an excellent introduction written by Ryan Holt, who blogs at I've Seen That Movie Too.
Holt writes:
The idea of memory is of particular interest to the Arts & Faith community, a group comprised of cinephiles shaped by a mutual interest in faith and spirituality. After all, religion is built upon a kind of collective memory, enshrined in traditions and preserved teachings and experiences, shared records of hopes and faith. It follows that the list features the work of filmmakers of faith as well as those whose work resonates with the essential yearnings that lie at the center of religious traditions.
But memory also cuts to the very center of personhood: memories are what define and shape us, give us personality, give us life.
Did we miss any important films about memory? Make the case for your favorite here. (If you don't, I'll assume we got the list exactly right!)
Bruce Cockburn to Receive the 2015 Denise Levertov Award
Wow.
The Denise Levertov Award is the prestigious honor given by the good people of Image "to an artist or creative writer whose work exemplifies a serious and sustained engagement with the Judeo-Christian tradition."
Past recipients of the award include poets Scott Cairns, Luci Shaw, Madeline DeFrees, and Franz Wright; nonfiction writers Kathleen Norris, Thomas Lynch, and Eugene Peterson; fiction writers Bret Lott and Ron Hansen; and the "patron saint" of this very blog... singer-songwriter Sam Phillips.
And the Twelfth Annual Denise Levertov Award will be presented to Bruce Cockburn, one of the singer-songwriters whose work has been a profound influence in my life. How much do Anne and I love this guy? We had his song "Lord of the Starfields" performed during our wedding.
So come to Seattle's Fremont Abbey on Thursday, April 23, at 8 p.m. I'll be there for the concert, interview, and reception. You?