The Song "Shares the Weaknesses of Most Faith-Based Films"
I've received two emails this week asking for my opinion of The Song. This is what I can offer...
The Song told me what it was in the advertisement that appeared for it in the sidebar of my blog.
(By the way: Almost everything that is advertised in the banners, sidebars, and footers of my blog is stuff that I would encourage you to Avoid At All Costs. Seriously. I cringe when I see what is promoted in the spaces around what I write. I apologize that anyone has to endure such stuff. Some of it is silly Christian propaganda. Some of it is just online varieties of the excrement you find smeared on tabloid covers in the grocery aisle. And some of it is downright poisonous. Right now, I see a link at the bottom of my blog that promises pictures of "Ugly Stars That Had Plastic Surgery" and "Forgotten Stars of the 90s: What Do They Look Like Now?" and "20 Nerdy Child Stars Who Became Hotties." But that's a tangent. Back to the subject at hand.)
The Song is a new "faith-based film."
Personally, I believe all movies are expressions of some kind of faith.
But when I hear something labeled as a "faith-based film," what I understand that to mean is that it was made to "send a message" that persuades doubters and unbelievers, and because of its proselytizing stance, it will end up playing almost entirely to the already converted. It disqualifies itself as art in that is is fashioned to "send messages" rather than cultivate questions, to "get results" instead of inspire the imagination. Because of that, I am not interested. Not even slightly.
I won't bother with The Song unless moviegoers whose judgment I trust offer powerfully persuasive reviews that make me reconsider.
Anyway, can you guess what the main character of this "faith-based film" is? You get two guesses, because the main characters of faith-based films usually come in two varieties.
Nope, he's not a Football Player Who Needs Faith. Yes, he is a Musician Who Needs Faith, and who looks ready for his turn on The Voice.
"Based on The Song of Solomon" says the poster. "Even the wisest of men was a fool for love" says the slogan. Does this look like a film about "the wisest of men"? We see a typically show-biz-handsome musician looking troubled between a smiling and obviously "godly" blonde and a smirking, obviously "dangerous" brunette. It's clear who the intended audience is: Women who read Christian romance novels.
Do you need a plot summary at this point? Yes, Jed's a rising star. Yes, he finds true love. Yes, as he begins to find success, he'll be tempted by the Sexual Threat who comes with the standard-issue tattoos and "edgy" jewelry that usually signify danger in "faith-based" films. (I grew up surrounded by such visual stereotypes, and it didn't take long to learn how entirely false they are.)
Speaking of moviegoers whose judgment I trust — here's the guy I trust most: Steven Greydanus. He's seen The Song. And guess what?
Whatever else the film’s biblical resonances do, they undermine the weight of the characters and story, or at least underscore their limitations.
Jed is a Solomonic figure only in externals. As a character, he’s bland and passive, with no sense of greatness — a far cry from the dynamic, ambitious son of David. If his prayer for wisdom is heard, there’s no sign of it; when he falls into sin, it isn’t the fall of a great man, just the stumbling of another shallow sinner. If wisdom isn’t one of your character’s defining traits, should Solomon really be your model?
...
Jed’s awkward, offhand prayer for wisdom emphasizes the triviality of his story. Solomon prayed for wisdom because he felt overwhelmed by responsibility for his father’s legacy. Jed prays for wisdom because writer-director Richard Ramsey wants to connect him to Solomon.
“The Song” shares the weakness of most faith-based films, which are effectively made by the faithful, for the faithful.
The Hundred-Foot Journey (2014): A Looking Closer Film Forum
As I joined the line to buy tickets for a mid-afternoon matinee showing of Guardians of the Galaxy, I had a rare and unsettling experience. A large crowd had assembled at the ticket counter, and I quickly discovered that these moviegoers had come for the opening-day matinee of a movie that I did not know existed.
Somehow, I had failed to notice any promotional effort at all for Lasse Haalstrom's The Hundred Foot Journey.Read more
This Post Contains R-Rated Subject Matter: Viewer Discretion is Advised.
Watching the trailers before Chef on Friday night, I was reminded by the smirking comments of viewers around me that the "This Motion Picture is Rated..." screen before a preview does as much, if not more, to intrigue viewers about the violence, language, or nudity included in the film than it does to dissuade anybody, or to warn parents about the content of the film.
It's been obvious for decades in the way the announcer on television says "Viewer discretion advised!", his sinister tone laced with salacious glee.
The ratings system... what's a society to do?Read more
Chef (2014)
What are the greatest movie moments that involve sandwiches?
I'd have a hard time imagining one that I love more than the moment in Wild at Heart when Dell (Crispin Glover), caught piling up sandwiches in the kitchen at midnight, shouts "I'm making my lunch!"
But that one doesn't really make me want to make and eat a sandwich. The scene in Spanglish, where Adam Sandler makes what just might be the finest sandwich in the world, certainly does. If you can think of a better one, post it in the Comments below.
I raised this question on Twitter, and got some interesting answers. One recalled William H. Macy making sandwiches in Mystery Men as "a pivotal sandwich moment." Another posted: "There's a moment in Con Air in which convict with a heart of gold Nic Cage stops to make a sandwich during a gunfight." Excellent.
Last night, I saw film that servues up some strong contenders for Best Sandwich-Making Scene: Chef. I watched Jon Favreau make a grilled cheese sandwich for his son, and then I watched him grilling Cubanos in a food truck. And I wanted one so badly I was tempted to leave the theater.
You can't get much more formulaic than a Cubano. But if it's made with love, with high-quality ingredients, and the right equipment, it can be something amazing. Just look at the line outside of Paseo's in Seattle, and you'll see.
And speaking of formulas: You can't get much more formulaic than Chef — a heartwarming tale of a gourmet chef who makes a big mistake, "falls from grace," and then has to overcome his self-doubt and depression in order to reboot his life and find his way back to what gave him a love of cooking in the first place. It's hard to believe that Anchorman didn't kill that formula for good, but here we are. And lo — it still works.
Jon Favreau — best known as a director of formulaic action-adventure hamburgers like Iron Man (pretty tasty), Iron Man 2 (similarly tasty, but larger), and Cowboys and Aliens (I took a few bites and then threw the rest out) — seems eager to regain his integrity as a filmmaker here. So he casts himself in a story that might be a sort of self-fulfilling, autobiographical allegory. He plays "Chef Casper," a gourmet chef who runs a tight ship full of admiring, congenial, curse-happy cooks in a Los Angeles restaurant owned by a bone-headed, strong-willed jerk (Dustin Hoffman). When a food critic shows up and Casper finds his artistic aspirations body-blocked by the owner, the results are predictable, and so is the calamity that befalls Casper.
Just about everything else is predictable too. He's divorced from his glamorous wife (Sofia Vergara), and he's losing touch with his boy (Emjay Anthony). Maybe the best thing to do would be to spend some time reconnecting with the broken family unit. In Miami. Where somebody happens t have a broken-down food truck. And who doesn't love cuban sandwiches?
It kind of writes itself, doesn't it?
If you're looking for something in Chef to complain about, you'll find plenty. Did Ratatouille cover this thematic territory more fully and meaningfully? Yes. And isn't is kind of icky that Favreau casts himself in the lead and then casts Sofia Vergara and Scarlet Johansson as his two love interests? Uh-huh. (And neither of those performances are anything to get excited about either.) Does a certain action-hero superstar's small role as a conversational multi-tasker come across as gratuitous? Kinda.
And one of the film's emotional peaks steals an idea from an iPhone commercial.
But I'm inclined to be kind to Chef.
No, not because it almost makes a villain out of a critic.
No, I like Chef because it's warm-hearted without ever overcooking its moments of high emotion. Here's a movie that provides easy uplift for Friday night moviegoers, and it does by building its big-screen sandwich out of quality ingredients, color, flavor, humor, and life. It pulls back from dwelling on the formula's obligation to be sentimental. And it refrains from steering the story toward the crowdpleasing moment when a villain is humiliated.
It has Bobby Cannavale. It has John Leguizamo. It has Oliver Platt.
And it delivers one of the most substantial and endearing father-son relationships we've seen on the big screen in a long time. It's fun, and it's fast — one of the best-edited pieces of commercial entertainment I've seen in a long time. In fact, when it finally hits that major chord that resolves everything, the moment lasts only a couple of moments, and boom — the credits roll.
I should add that just as I cannot separate my memories of favorite meals from my memory of the environments in which I enjoyed them, my enjoyment of this film had a lot to do with the rare and wonderful circumstances in which I saw it.
I saw Chef the way it should be seen: On a big screen in an old-fashioned movie theater — the Landmark Crest Cinema Center ($3 a ticket!), built in 1949, one of the first theaters in the country to show Close Encounters of the Third Kind in 70mm — with a local community who were in the mood for a casual Friday comedy.
Yes, the floors were a little sticky and the air was full of butter flavoring. Yes, everybody laughed at the obvious jokes. Yes, everybody cheered at the 2+3=5 storytelling. Yes, more than one person spilled candy across the floor. Yes, a young couple sat way over by the wall and made out the whole time. Yes, people got a little too excited about certain glamorous movie stars who showed up for bit parts as favors to the director... like Broadway stars showing up in community-theater fundraiser.
It was greasy. It was casual. It was heart-warming. It was a little sappy.
It was good.
I think you'll like it.
In Memory of My Friend, My Boss, My Mentor: Jennifer Gilnett
The last 13 days have been a harrowing experience of heartbreak and loss for me and many who are close to me. I haven't said anything about it here at Looking Closer, but I think the time has come.Read more
Dead Poets Society (1989)
Alissa Wilkinson, chief film critic for Christianity Today, asked me if I've ever changed my mind about a movie... and would I write about that?
So I'm asking you. What's a movie you loved the first time, or hated the first time, and then experienced a total change of mind?
I chose to write about Dead Poet's Society. He's how I began my response to Alissa...
•
He’s leaving. I can hardly believe it. Dr. Luke Reinsma, professor of English at Seattle Pacific University, is retiring.
Two weeks ago I revisited Peter Weir’s Dead Poets Society for the first time in twenty years. Watching Robin Williams play that charismatic English teacher who transforms the lives of repressed prep-school boys, I had flashbacks to my undergraduate years when Reinsma was my academic advisor.
As a freshman at SPU in 1989, I found that this idiosyncratic professor lived up to the reputation I’d heard from former students. I learned to love how, when he handed back my essays, he had written almost as much on them as I had written in them. An exploration of The Canterbury Tales, a coffee conversation about the origins of the Arthur legends, an independent study of Old English, a post-movie talk about Quentin Tarantino—every time we met, we dug deep into the substance of our subject.
Now, he’s boxing the books that blessed his office with an aroma of scholarship and mystery. I’ll miss his Richard Farnsworth mustache. His quick and mischievous eyes. The perpetually windblown hair that he sculpts wildly with both hands as if trying to wring out the words he needs to express his big ideas.
He changed my mind about so many things. I realize now that, due to his influence, even my perspective on Dead Poets Society has changed—dare I say matured?
•
[To read the whole article, and find out why I changed my mind, go to Christianity Today.]
The Trip (2010): Or, Up for a Celebrity Impressions Road Trip?
September has been a difficult month for me for a variety of reasons. I've felt the urge, more than once, to just get in the car and start driving. Busy days make me crave open spaces. Noise makes me crave quiet. And stress makes me want that feeling of putting distance between me and the source of stress — I love the hum of the freeway streaming beneath my tires.
A road trip hasn't really been possible. So I thought I'd try the next-best thing — road movies. Did that scratch the itch? Well, yes. And, but some itches get worse with the scratching and now I really cannot wait to hit the road.
So far in September, I've seen two road movies. Locke, starring Tom Hardy, and this one. I'll share thoughts about Locke soon. I'll start with the one that I enjoyed more...
The Trip (2010)
"Gentlemen, to Netflix! For tonight, we laugh at celebrity impressions!"
Anne picked the movie last Sunday night, and I'm grateful that she did.
Michael Winterbottom, a cinematic chef whose specialty is that he has no specialty (he cooks up something completely different every time), teams up here with Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon — two English comedians who bring out the best in each other — and tries his hand at a restaurant-tour/road-movie hybrid.
I've seen pieces of The Trip before — it existed first as a BBC television series. I loved what I saw, and hope to see the full run of the series at some point. But I'm pleasantly surprised to find that this string of excerpts — which could have been just an amusing "best-of" reel — congeals into a remarkably rich and complicated film. It works as a buddy movie, as a "foodie" film, as a meditation on a mid-life crisis, as battle of brilliant improvisational comedians, and as a surprisingly dry and bittersweet comedy about celebrity.
By playing himself as an actor who has never quite found That Role, Steve Coogan has finally found That Role. His manages to make his melancholy funny and endearing, where it could so easily have made the film too bitter to be bittersweet.
Here, Coogan's apparently been asked to explore the finer dining establishments in the north of England, a wild, green, and sometimes wild territory that will be unfamiliar to most moviegoers. So, having failed to persuade his assistant or any of his various on-call girlfriends, he invites his kinda-sorta-friend Rob Brydon, and hopes to find sexual adventures with the women in his various destinations.
Brydon — an actor I only knew from his role in the Jim Henson Company's experimental fantasy film MirrorMask — turns out to be an inspired traveling companion. But first he has to kiss his lovely wife and beautiful child goodbye. This clearly sprinkles salt Coogan's self-inflicted wounds. And that sets the tone for the trip: awkward tensions, arguments, frequent bursts of inspired banter, occasional stumbles into resentment and bickering.
With every turn in the road, Coogan's apprehension of the emptiness in his pursuit of fame deepens. Thus, Coogan's flings with hotel attendants, when they come, ring hollow and sad. And meanwhile, Brydon relaxes alone in his hotel room, flirting with his wife on the phone.
But as Brydon gives Coogan perspective on his less-than-superstar career, and Coogan coaxes Brydon to expand his culinary boundaries, these guys clearly mean more to each other than they're willing to admit. And perhaps that's why the glow of the movie's warm heart wins out over its melancholy turns. I hope you've had those traveling experiences where you discover a friendship that works over long distances. It takes chemistry, patience, flexibility, musical compatibility, and an ability to be comfortable with silence. I don't think I'd last a whole weekend with either one of these two, but for a 107 minutes I found them, as Michael Caine might say, "Very. Entertaining. Indeed."
I might even be up for a sequel. Hey, look!
I don't want to spoil the highlights. Suffice it to say that if you haven't already seen these two smack each other around with celebrity-impressions while sipping glasses of white wine, or watched them offer eulogies for one another in a cemetery, you have big laughs ahead of you.
Come to think of it, even if you have seen it, you're likely to laugh even more when you revisit it with friends. It's one of those films that'll download its best lines into your consciousness so that they spring up in your own banter. There are so many quotable quips along the way, I couldn't help but think of my favorite quotable buddy movie — Midnight Run. (While Brydon's compulsive impressions of Caine, Connery, Connelly, and Pacino are great, in his calmer and quieter moments he's Charles Grodin to Coogan's De Niro.)
My own casual banter has been permanently injured by this pair's inspired revisions to Braveheart-style exhortations like "Gentlemen, to bed! For tomorrow we rise at daybreak to battle!"
Maybe you noticed.
U2's Songs of Innocence: Not Bad for Four Guys in Their Mid-50s!
Okay, for the one reader out there who doesn't know: You can download the new U2 album for free right now on iTunes.
In something just short of a resurrection, U2 is back and — to my surprise and delight — they sound reinvigorated, inspired, and amazing.
Thanks, my brothers.
This was a generous surprise, a big blast of sunshine and joy during a season of shadow and heartbreak.
And after one listen, I'm a happier U2 record-listener than I've been since March 4, 1997.
... And apparently, there's more to come.
In a letter at U2.com, Bono says:
"We’re collaborating with Apple on some cool stuff over the next couple of years, innovations that will transform the way music is listened to and viewed. We’ll keep you posted. If you like Songs of Innocence, stay with us for Songs of Experience. It should be ready soon enough… although I know I’ve said that before…"
She's Growing Up So Fast! Auralia's Colors is 7 Years Old
My first novel Auralia's Colors — currently on sale at Amazon for a bargain price — is 7 years old today!
She's growing up so fast.
Why do I bother celebrating the 7th anniversary of my own book?
That's easy. Thanks to WaterBrook Press (now WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group, Auralia's Colors went out into the world on September 4, 2007, and I began to hear from readers. And many of those readers became friends. And those friends struck up conversations with me not only about the book but about art and storytelling and favorite authors and faith.
And those relationships have enriched my life with discovery and laughter and surprises... like this amazing artwork by Karen Renee of Auralia boldly unveiling her art in a hostile environment.
Thanks to all of you, the hostility I experienced was overwhelmed by the love.
So... as I celebrate this week, I'm offering an Auralia's Colors coffee mug, illustrated with Karen's artwork, to the best Auralia "birthday card" posted to Facebook or Twitter between now and Saturday evening. Post your note or card on Facebook or Twitter (#AuraliasColors) if you're interested, or just send it to me in an email.
And speaking of Karen Renee, it looks like talent runs in her family. I just received an Auralia's Colors birthday card from her daughter Holly:
Q&O: What I'd Change in My Memoir. My Favorite Moviegoing Companion. Top Albums of 2014 So Far. Why You Rarely See Me Smile. More "Noah" Bashing. And More!
"You're going to a movie: Who do you call and invite to go with you?"
"Why are you such a movie snob?"
"What's your favorite album of 2014 so far?"
"Why do you rarely smile in pictures?"
Questions are coming in, so... time for another Q & O = Question and Overstreet!
Some of these questions came to me via email, Facebook, Twitter, or some other internet source. Some came as ultimatums or exclamations... which I've refashioned into questions because questions are so much more interesting. And some are questions I'm asking myself.
So, if you’re interested in Netflix picks, taking friends to the movies, or checking out some great music… here we go!
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THE SECRET OF SELKIES?
This is a question I asked myself:
What animated movie are you most eagerly anticipating?
Answer:
This one.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t0Ejpl3QFuU
I'm also eagerly anticipating this one from Pixar.
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ARMREST NEMESIS
A question asked by one of my MFA in Creative Writing classmates:
Who do you like to take to the movies with you?
Overstreet:
I'm supposed to say that my wife Anne is my favorite moviegoing companion. The good news is that I can say that with 100% honesty. But Anne only has the urge to go to the movies once every couple of months. So, with that in mind, while I love to take my friends to movies, my usual preference it is to go alone. My attention to a movie changes depending on my company, and I always know more clearly what I think of a film when I see it alone.
But sometimes, with certain films, it's clear to me who I should invite. For example, I took my friend Brendan to see The LEGO Movie because I wanted to listen to him and his two young sons talk about it. I ended up quoting one of them in my review. Pixar's upcoming movie is all about what goes on in the brain, and I'm planning to invite my friend who is a world-class brain scientist, because I can't wait to hear what he'll say about it when the credits roll.
Actually, I'd like to turn this question back toward readers: Who do you like to take to the movies with you? Praise your favorite moviegoer in the Comments.
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THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT MARILYNNE
A question inspired by how many times someone has shared this link with me on Twitter:
Isn't that 2008 interview with Marilynne Robinson published in The Paris Review just freaking awesome?
Overstreet:
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OXFORD ON OVERSTREET?
A comment from my Facebook friend Josh Withrow:
I recently returned from a conference on George MacDonald and the Inklings at Oxford University. In one or two of the plenary sessions, your name was mentioned as one of the great mythopoeic writers of our day — alongside the likes of Madeline L'Engle, Neil Gaiman, and Terry Pratchett. Pretty good company if you ask me.
My question back to Josh:
Thanks for sharing. That's wonderful to hear. Pretty good company, indeed! I have enormous respect for those writers — L'Engle, especially.
But if such high praise were true, I suspect that I would get enough work as a writer to pay the bills. Fact is, I divide my time between a professional career as a project manager and marketer, and my "spare time" as a writer. I haven't written fiction in a year because of new pressures in my life — I just don't have the time or energy. I sincerely hope I can find ways to change my current circumstances so that I can get back to my best work. Writing fiction is my greatest passion in life — with teaching a close second. Those are the things I feel I was designed to do. I hope I get to do more of them someday.
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CALVIN AND SNOB?
A question asked by several friends over the past few months:
You love Calvin and Hobbes, right? Have you seen Dear Mr. Watterson?
Overstreet:
I love Calvin and Hobbes. I enjoyed the movie. But... I hate to say this, because it's such a good-hearted project... "A movie is not about what it's about — it's about how it is about it." I did not love the movie, because it wasn't much more than a bunch of people gushing about how much they love Calvin and Hobbes. I didn't learn much. It's like the movie equivalent of a refrigerator magnet that says "YAY CALVIN AND HOBBES." I made some notes about it on Letterboxd.
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IF I HAVEN'T HEARD OF IT, IT CAN'T BE GOOD
A question excerpted from actual comments from a reader:
I saw your Top 10 of 2013, and nobody's even heard of your top two picks for the year. This proves you're a movie snob and not worth taking seriously.
Overstreet:
My two top picks of 2013 — This Is Martin Bonner and Museum Hours — are both award-winning, widely celebrated films that are available on Netflix Instant, as well as Amazon and elsewhere.
What was your question again? Oh, right. I'm sorry. You weren't asking a question.
So... by your logic, anybody who gets excited about a movie that "nobody's even heard of" is a snob?
Since I've discussed both of those films with many moviegoers who loved them both, I've gotta ask... how do you define "nobody"? Do you mean "nobody I know"? Perhaps you should spend some time with film enthusiasts. You might discover some great films you've missed.
Or perhaps the "nobody" you mention is actually referring to the majority : moviegoers who don't bother to see anything but movies that star celebrities, movies advertised during prime-time television hours, movies that expand on popular franchises.
As Mark Twain once wrote, "Whenever you find you are on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect." But who listens to Mark Twain? What a hipster.
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HOUR POWER: MY 2014 SOUNDTRACK
A real question from a friend on Twitter:
St. Vincent's album: Unbeatable for album of the year, right?
Overstreet:
So far, the 2014 album that I'm most certain I'll still be enjoying in ten years is Joe Henry's Invisible Hour.
Joe's lyrics are so beautiful, most poets I know would cry just to hear them. It's not fair that Joe's so multi-talented, or that he has such piercing insights about marriage, human nature, and the kingdom come.
I'm also a big fan of St. Vincent's new album, yes, as well as...
- Elbow's The Take Off and Landing of Everything;
- This Lone Justice from Lone Justice;
- nikki nack, from tUnE-yArds;
- Warpaint's self-titled album;
- Sharon Van Etten's awesome new release, Are We There; and
- A Letter Home, which is the brand-new release from Neil Young, via the recording technology of Jack White.
And thanks to a recommendation from my friend Josh Hurst, I'm enjoying a brilliant new release from Amy Levere called Runaway's Diary. I'm also growing to love new releases by Phox, Wovenhand, Agents of Future, The Secret Sisters, The War on Drugs, Hundred Waters, Lana Del Ray, and Sinead O'Connor. I really liked the Bruce Springsteen EP from Record Store Day called American Beauty.
But the year's only two-thirds finished. The best may be yet to come.
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SO YOU WANT TO BE A CINEPHILE?
A question that came in on Twitter:
I'm young and didn't grow up on films so I am new to many classics and favourites of yours. What's the best way to approach them? Should I just watch treasures? Or choose a more balanced diet, supplementing the amazing films with good but not great films?
Overstreet:
I would encourage you to work your way through The Arts and Faith Top 100, and read all that you can find about them after you've seen them. Another great resource is the Sight and Sound Top 50. Challenge yourself, and don't rush to understand or appreciate. Great films often take time, reflection, discussion, and subsequent viewings before they start opening up and revealing their true rewards. Don't get too worried if a movie is difficult or confusing or even unpleasant.
But you should also pay attention to the films that inspire you and bring you joy. For me, that might be a timeless classic of cinematic art, or it might be The Three Amigos or some Looney Toons episodes. Ask yourself what you love about those films that you can't stop watching. Is it the dialogue? Then try seeking out other films by the screenwriter. Is it the cinematography? Find other films by the genius behind the camera.
Some of my readers complain that I'm overly fond of food metaphors. I don't care — they work. It's not a bad thing to think of moviegoing as a diet. Spend time on the classics regularly. Be adventuresome, and develop new tastes. Enjoy your dessert. But be discerning — some things taste good for all of the wrong reasons, and they can mess you up.
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WE NEED A WORD FOR IT
A question from a reader:
Will Netflix replace the cinema and has CGI ruined filmmaking?
Overstreet:
No, because Netflix is not an art form. It's a delivery service. Cinema is an art form. There are countless hours of cinema, even great cinema, on Netflix currently. You just have to know where to look.
And no. CGI is animation. Animation didn't ruin filmmaking in its previous forms, and CGI hasn't changed that. There has always been great animation and poor animation. There still is. For great CGI, see Zodiac and Jurassic Park and Gollum and the new Planet of the Apes films.
Here's an interesting question: As the boundaries between television and movies blurs more and more, what will the result eventually be called? As movies open on our TV screens, and TV shows are projected on big screens, are we moving toward a new term? If I review TV, movies, YouTube videos, and other streaming visual media... what am I? A film critic? A media critic? Is it all cinema?
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IF I HAD WORLD ENOUGH AND TIME...
Another question from a reader:
What do you think are the "game-changer" works of literature from this past decade? I'd be interested to hear your thoughts.
Overstreet:
I'm not qualified to say. I haven't read that much from the last decade. I don't read much contemporary fiction. I mostly read poetry. And non-fiction, especially theology and criticism. Lately I've been reading a bunch of memoirs.
But some of the writers whose works from the last decade have become very important to me are Cormac McCarthy, Marilynne Robinson, Christian Wiman, Scott Cairns, Sara Zarr, Kazuo Ishiguro, and... if I think of others, I'll come back and add them.
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THROUGH A SCREEN ERRONEOUSLY
A question from one of my Twitter followers:
What would you change if you rewrote your moviegoer's memoir?
Overstreet:
Through a Screen Darkly is seven years old! Hard to believe. What would I change?
I would make some corrections. There's a bit of an autobiographical mix-up in the first chapter, regarding the calendar date of my viewing of Dances With Wolves. The epigraph from Star Wars, a quote from Obi-wan Kenobi, at the beginning of a chapter is actually an epigraph from the radio play of Star Wars. And in the back of the book, I somehow credited A Prairie Home Companion to Paul Thomas Anderson instead of Robert Altman... although the fact is that Anderson did "ghost-direct" a lot of that film because Altman wasn't in the best of health.
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NEXT STOP WONDERLAND
A question from an Auralia's Colors fan:
You're a big fan of fantasy films. What's the most underrated fantasy film you've seen?
Overstreet:
The title that springs to mind is MirrorMask, the Jim Henson Company's weird, wild collaboration with artist Dave McKean. It's too long, and it meanders, but its mix of dream-state surreality and phantasmagoric imagery is endlessly fascinating to me.
So I'm excited to see that there's another McKean project on the horizon — Luna — which looks like it could almost be a sequel.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FVWtTUjIdS8#t=12
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HERE COME TWO WORDS FOR YOU: MIDNIGHT RUN
A question I often ask myself:
What's your favorite Robert DeNiro performance?
Overstreet:
His performance in Midnight Run. DeNiro is funny, affecting, complicated, and a joy to watch all the way through. He creates a great character in Jack Walsh. It's my favorite buddy comedy. I've probably seen it all the way through 25 times. It's the most quotable comedy I've ever seen. Parks and Rec's Adam Scott praised it in an interview published last year. In fact, it's streaming online now.
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ARTISTRY AND EXCELLENCE WITHOUT TRUTH? CAN'T HAPPEN.
From a Facebook message regarding Darren Aronofsky's Noah:
I understand a film critic's responsibilities to consider a film's artistry and excellence... but to excuse a film that excels in these qualities but fails to show God's truth is straining at gnats and swallowing camels.
Overstreet:
First of all, I think you're contradicting yourself. A film that excels in artistry and excellence cannot be devoid of "God's truth." If a film is made with intelligence and beauty and imagination, then it is already reflecting truth in some way. And truth cannot contradict God — it belongs to him. Sure, any film will have flaws... and some contain dangerous lies. But beauty is beautiful because it reflects something of God's glory. Excellence is excellence because it achieves, in some sense, the standards that God himself has revealed.
So... there's that.
Now, to get specific and talk about Noah:
In the last few months, I have read and participated in more substantial conversations about Noah than any other film of the last several years. What stands out about these conversations was that they happened between people who have seen the movie.
I encourage you to see the movie, before you judge it... and before you judge the quality of my opinion of it.
And then I encourage you to re-read (assuming you have read them) my three-part coverage of Noah: Part One, Part Two, and a round-up of commentary and notable reviews. In these pieces, I detail many ways in which the film "shows God's truth." And if you disagree, please detail exactly how the film contradicts me.
I realize that this will require time, a thorough consideration of the evidence, and writing that is based on what the evidence suggests. Many of us are willing to invest that time, to give the evidence thorough consideration, and engage in detailed evidence-based arguments, and we invite you to do the same.
I also link to the coverage from many others who go into great detail about the same thing. And you can also listen to this podcast discussion where Dr. Jeff Keuss, Dr. Chris Chaney, author Jennie Spohr, and I discuss all of the different ways we found God's truth shown in Noah.
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(CHORUS): NO-AH. NO-NO NO NO-NOAH
From another Facebook message regarding Noah:
As believers, we should not worry so much in the production of the film but the message and if it agrees with God.
Overstreet:
If I understand that sentence correctly (and I'm not sure that I do)... it sounds kind of like saying "We should not worry so much about what is in the food, the quality of the ingredients, or the preparation of the food — we should only make sure that the food is good for us."
To which I say this: The hard work of paying attention to what is in the food, the quality of the ingredients, and the care with which the food was prepared... that is the way we find out if food is good for us.
So when we "worry about the production of the film," we are caring about its goodness. Any and every aspect of a work of art can reflect God's glory.
God filled the world with beauty and excellence, because beauty and excellence are ways in which he reveals himself. A Christian who is an artist will not just care about "a message." In fact, a Christian who is an artist will be humble enough to know that even he isn't completely sure of what "messages" his work will convey... because art is incarnational and mysterious, like God's own art. A Christian will learn that a message without beauty and excellence and mystery is as trite as a bumper sticker, and it does not give evidence that we are paying attention to how God works, or to what it means to be made in the image of God.
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HE KNOWS THE MIND OF GOD!
A real question from a reader named Jon Matthews. Wait, no... there are no questions here. Just judgments.
Don't parade yourself as a Christian if you are not one. Liberal religiousity has nothing to do with Christ. You have created your own god in your image. If you are ashamed of the Word, any of the Word, you have no part of Him.
Overstreet:
Wow. The Bible warns against claims of clairvoyance, but you talk about me as if you have read my mind and searched my heart. And I don't believe we've ever actually even met. How do you come by such fascinating ideas about me?
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FACE ENHANCEMENT
A question sometimes asked by friends and coworkers:
Why don't you smile much in pictures?
Overstreet:
I'm aware of the lack of available imagery in which I am found smiling. I prefer images that are closer to how you'll normally find me. I'm not normally scowling, but I am normally skeptical, often bemused, and frequently lost in thought. Sometimes I laugh, but rarely do I offer what most people would consider a "photogenic smile."
Perhaps it's because I've never had one of these.