Gloria (2014)
Ida... Ewa. Ewa... Ida. Ida and Ewa... let me introduce you to Gloria.
It began when I realized how rarely I see a halfway decent female character on the big screen in 2014. Looking around, I see a lot of female supporting characters, most of them shallow and frivolous, most of them fulfilling flawed definitions of "beauty," and most of them just... well... supporting male characters. Where are the admirable leading roles for women this year? Are there any that don't expect those characters to fulfill the superficial standards of Hollywood glamour?
I've found a few, but most moviegoers seem to have overlooked them. That's why they're the "contestants" in the 2014 Looking Closer Beauty pageant.
The first two contestants — Ida from the film of the same name, and Ewa from The Immigrant — were Polish.
We find the third in a film set in Chile. Gloria, a Chilean-Spanish film from director Sebastian Lelio, begins in a crowded club and then zooms in on a 58-year-old woman.
A lot of people are likely to stop reading this review right there.
They'll probably conclude that they're not interested in such a character.
And why should they be? American movies have trained us to pay attention to young people. They have trained us that, when it comes to main characters, men are more important than women. Our imaginations have been injured by — this may sound extreme, but I think it's true — American cinema's idolatrous exaltation of youth, sex, and masculinity.
The more experience I have with movies and with moviegoers, the more I find troubling parallels between our care and compassion for human beings in the world around us and the limited curiosity we have about characters who are different from ourselves. In her book The Faraway Nearby, Rebecca Solnit reminds us, "To love someone is to put yourself in their place, we say, which is to put yourself in their story, or figure out how to tell yourself their story."
Perhaps Solnit has read the great Presbyterian minister Frederick Buechner, who wrote,
If we are to love our neighbors, before doing anything else we must see our neighbors. With our imagination as well as our eyes, that is to say like artists, we must see not just their faces, but the life behind and within their faces. Here it is love that is the frame we see them in.
Granted, artists who want to make a living at their art will learn that it pays to give audiences what they want. And most moviegoers aren't interested in films about 58-year-old women... especially if that woman speaks a foreign language.
But artists aren't the only ones who suffer when audiences have such narrow ranges of interest. The people whose stories are never told — they suffer. And the audiences who fail to grow in their appreciation and respect for characters different from themselves — they suffer just as much, if not more, as they aren't aware of the heart condition slowly taking hold within them.
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Okay, I'll step off the soapbox now. I'll speak from personal experience. I found Gloria to be one of the most absorbing and original films I've seen this year.
Yes, that lonely woman in the middle of that busy nightclub — the one looking for love through glasses so large and round that several critics have noted her resemblance to Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie — held my attention more than any of the steroidal superheroes dominating the box office this year.
And I'm not the only one. Gloria currently has a 99% "fresh" rating among film reviewers at Rotten Tomatoes, and 83% positive among reviewers at Metacritic. Maybe that will help kindle some moviegoers' interest.
Now, before you schedule a family movie night... be warned. Gloria is too intense and explicit for younger viewers. Adults only, please. (Ah, there! I suspect I have more readers' attention now.)
Gloria gives us a very intimate portrait, one that follows this lonely soul through various states of emotional and physical undress. But it is an incredibly compassionate portrait, intent on revealing everything from her ebullient humor to her mischievous intelligence to the open wounds of her heart.
Actress Paulina Garcia commits fully to this performance, giving us a raw and complicated portrait of a woman who wants nothing less than true love, full commitment, and an enthusiastic embrace of possibility... but who, in her zeal to embrace that, ends up letting idealism guide her into a relationship with a man who isn't quite ready to leave his past behind. Garcia's performance is so striking, she won the Silver Berlin Bear “Best Actress” Award at the 2013 Berlin International Film Festival
Gloria is quite a character. She flings herself into new things with wild (and somewhat foolish) abandon. Perhaps that zeal comes from her eagerness to escape the injuries she suffered in her first marriage, the drudgery she endures in her day job, and the nightly barrage of rage and profanity from the shouting madman upstairs. In her car, she sings whole-heartedly to romantic pop songs in her car. Given the opportunity to bungee jump, listen to her howl of delight. Somebody accidentally leaves a packet of pot on her doorstep? "Don't mind if I do," says Gloria.
But she's not just a thrill-seeker. The thrills may be evidence of her need for distraction from her loneliness. Her son and daughter are grown, and we cannot miss how much it hurts her to hear how unnecessary she has become to them. She doesn't want the end of her parenthood and the end of her marriage to mean the end of her life. She wants to savor every day, and if she's given less-than-ideal ways to enjoy life, she'll take what she can get.
So she'll take Rodolfo (Sergio Hernandez, looking a little like an elderly Omar Sharif), the navy veteran who looks at her across the crowded nightclub and finds what may be his last chance at a great romance. Rodolfo's passionate. He's adventurous. He's willing to get to know her family, including her ex. He even tries to interest her in paintball marksmanship. He might be what Gloria's been waiting for.
Some viewers may squirm to see the bodies of 60-something lovers pressed together with the passion of lusty 20-somethings. If nudity offends you, steer clear — but if 50-something nudity offends you more than youthful nudity, you might consider asking yourself why. While we might discuss how much of the film's explicitness is necessary, I'd say it's meaningfully employed to reveal aspects of these characters' courage, their loneliness and need, their secrets, and their capacity for tenderness. We also see Gloria's inclination to control her circumstances, and Rodrigo's weakness.
Their awkward, challenging physical relationship reflects other aspects of their colliding worlds. In scenes where Rodrigo joins Gloria's family for a dinner reunion, we catch glimpses of how they were at their best and worst, of the strong feelings they still have for one another, of what Gloria is losing, of the respect she never fully received. And we even get a troubling hint at what might have prompted Gloria's divorce. (It will make your heart break for her.)
In the hands of many American filmmakers — Alexander Payne and Noah Baumbach, to name two — scenes like the family dinner could easily have been played for bitter laughs, with a crowdpleasing tone of condescension and judgement. (That's what poisoned About Schmidt, Margot at the Wedding and, to some extent, Nebraska, for me.) Sebastian Lelio has a bigger heart for his characters. He treats all of them with affection and respect. This is gracious filmmaking.
And he's smart enough to know that cutting ties with the past isn't necessarily the wisest or the most responsible thing to do. Admirably, Rodolfo maintains some sense of responsibility as a father, and compassion for the woman he once called his wife as she slips into extremes of distress. Who can blame him for trying to do right by them even as a promising new opportunity opens up for him?
This is, of course, about much more than Rodolfo and Gloria. This is about Chile itself. How does a nation with a legacy of oppressive dictatorship and violence turn the page when it remains so entangled in the failings and unfulfilled promises of its past? Is it fair to anybody to try and clean the slate and start fresh?
Needless to say — this isn't a film where love conquers all. In fact, love complicates things badly. Gloria needs to find a way to be fully herself regardless of the interests of a man. Rodrigo needs to find a future in which he isn't adding new failures and complications to his already messy legacy.
I won't spoil what happens — best for you to discover that for yourselves. But it's not spoiling anything to tell you that you will probably warm to this odd and unglamorous character. You'll come to appreciate her expressions, her wit, her imagination, and her courage. As A. O. Scott wrote in The New York Times,
One of the delights of “Gloria” is that its richly detailed realism is fuel for thought: about Chile, about men and women, about how the cycles of family life have and have not changed as a result of sexual liberation and consumer capitalism. But Mr. Lelio, who is closer in age to Gloria’s children than to their mother, is wise enough to avoid overthinking or didacticism. He is interested, above all, in showing Gloria exactly as she is, which is beautiful.
And maybe young Mr. Lelio's healthy curiosity and admirable respect will prove contagious. I admit, I didn't take much notice of Gloria when the film first showed up in theaters. But I'm grateful for the enthusiasm of others who took the time to investigate and bring this film to my attention. I appreciate any artist — and any reviewer — who helps heighten my understanding of beauty.
And that's why Gloria is the third "contestant" in my 2014 Looking Closer Beauty Pageant series.
If this film sounds intriguing to you, well... be warned: I'm not promising you the feel-good movie of the summer. Moviegoers' mileage will vary. But down the road, I suspect you'll remember Gloria. She might remind you of someone you know — a friend or a family member — and make you ask new questions about her. She might make you stop and notice a stranger and wonder about her story. She may even inspire us to see ourselves in a different light — the value we have even when others don't give us respect, or when they fail to notice us at all.
Careful — she might even make a few of us more curious about movies we don't normally bother to see.
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If you appreciate this post and enjoy exploring the territory where art, faith, and culture intersect, you're invited to "Put Your Name in the Credits." Cast your vote for "Keep Looking Closer Alive." Make a donation. Offer whatever you feel moved to contribute. All donations will be applied directly to that materials, events, and experiences that make the blog happen. That's a Looking Closer promise.
A Novelist, A Horror Filmmaker, and Two Critics: Conversations Worth Hearing
I love it when people I love interview people I love.
For example, here's my favorite Young Adult novelist, National Book Award finalist Sara Zarr, interviewing one of my favorite reviewers, Christianity Today's chief film critic Alissa Wilkinson. (Alissa earned her MFA in Creative Writing from Seattle Pacific University; that's the program I'm in now.) They talk about art, criticism, running, and Wilkinson's rigorous work ethic, on Zarr's podcast — This Creative Life.
And here's another example — my favorite film critic, Steven Greydanus, interviewing my favorite director of horror movies, Scott Derrickson (Sinister, The Exorcism of Emily Rose, Deliver Us From Evil). Steven asks Scott to talk about why he feels driven to make horror movies, and what determines the difference between meaningful horror and destructive horror. They also talk about why horror should be valued as a genre by people of faith.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hf-mrSgR69I
Viewer Discussion Advised! 12 Steps to More Rewarding Moviegoing
Well, the secret is out.
I've been hosting a secret church-basement movie club. It's controversial. It's lively. It's unpredictable. It's populated by a wide range of people, from film students to casual moviegoers to people who are extremely suspicious about movies. And...
...it's fictional.
InTouch Magazine invited me to share some tips — specifically, tips for Christian moviegoers — that would help readers get more out of their moviegoing experience. I wrote something as if I was giving an address to moviegoer gathering called "Sight Club," and they published it with this introduction:
With summer blockbusters showing up in theaters, we asked film critic Jeffrey Overstreet for tips on how to have a better experience at the cinema. He delivered the following opening address for the first 2014 meeting of Sight Club — a fictional church-basement movie club in Seattle. You are welcome to start your own Sight Club, and to use these recommendations as a guide.
I hope you find these 12 steps helpful in your own moviegoing. If this article just scratches the surface and you want to dig deeper, well, it's your lucky day. The article serves as a sort of preview for my "memoir of dangerous moviegoing" — Through a Screen Darkly.
Share this with your family and friends. Make a copy for your pastor. And start your own church-basement movie club! But be sneaky about it. The first rule of Sight Club is this: Don't talk about Sight Club.
The 2014 Looking Closer Beauty Pageant - Contestant 2: Ewa
I've been searching the cinema of 2014 for beautiful women.
I don't mean fashion models. I'm looking for female characters who manifest true beauty rather than the superficial sort celebrated by pop culture and Hollywood. And I'm not looking for supporting characters — I want central characters. Surprisingly, I've found several impressive new movies that deliver just that. In this "beauty pageant," I first focused on the lead character of Pawel Pawlikowski's film Ida.
Here's another — Ewa, the main character in The Immigrant.Read more
Ida (2014)
"Mirror, mirror, on the wall... who's the fairest of them all?"
In the famous fairy tale, that's what the vain and wicked queen asks her own reflection. Nevertheless, when it comes to the women of pop culture, that seems to be the question that American moviegoers can't stop asking. The more I watch the ways in which actresses become household names — making themselves a more popular subject than their characters — the more I see similarities between the Celebrity Factory and the lurid materialism of the beauty pageants I saw on television when I was a kid.
The program, like most beauty pageants, has its various phases, intended to show us each contestant's personality, intelligence, talent, and — most importantly to many viewers and to the marketing campaign — their ability to strike sexy poses in a swimsuit. And as the program goes on, it begins to feel like Apple revealing all of the various functions of a new product, or like masters asking dogs to perform tricks at a dog show and rewarding them for the ways in which they meet our expectations.
The Fame and Fortune Game in Hollywood requires up-and-coming actresses — especially those who start young — to jump through various hoops: Can they seduce us? Can they make us laugh? Can they make us cry? Are they willing to get naked onscreen? (That last one is a rite of passage that shows us, apparently, whether or not actresses are really serious, really mature, really ready for adult roles. We often reward performances like these with Oscars.)
This routine has everything to do with baiting moviegoers into a sort of goddess worship, and very little to do with what beauty is really about. Character is reduced to a superficial scan. The curves get the most attention. Mystery is quickly erased. Movie by movie, actresses throw themselves into a long-term striptease. For every dignified Cate Blanchett there are a dozen Amanda Seyfrieds, Dakota Fannings, and Lindsay Lohans volunteering to be our next popular Lolita, increasing the cultural appetite for reading about the celebrities themselves rather than caring much to discuss the characters they've played or the choices those characters make.
Thus, we distort the ways in which young men learn to see, hear, understand, and love the women in the world around them. And we injure the way young women are taught to see and appreciate themselves.
So I've decided to host a pageant of my own. Who can invite us to a fuller, healthier, holier view of women? Who might those contestants be?
- They'll be characters, not celebrities.
- They'll be complicated, not superficial.
- They'll have integrity; they won't go out of their way to win our love.
- They'll direct us to dwell on something larger than themselves instead of showing off to become the center of our attention.
Welcome to the 2014 Looking Closer Beauty Pageant.
So far this year, I've found four compelling contestants. And it should come as no surprise that these characters appear in movies that have barely made a blip at the box office.
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Our first contestant comes from Poland.
Isn't she beautiful in her nun's habit, filmed in pristine black and white as she paints a statue of Jesus and helps carry it out of the convent into the snow?
Aren't her eyes dark and strange?
Why is she so soft-spoken?
This is Anna. She's eighteen years old, and she wants to present herself to Jesus as a bride.
But Anna's about to discover that her real name is Ida Lebenstein, and her heritage is not what she hought. Anna was raised as an orphan, without any knowledge of her family. And her Mother Superior wants her to go out into the world, discover the secrets of her past, reckon with the trouble that those revelations will cause her, and then decide about her future. When she discovers all that has been kept from her, will she still love God? Will she even believe in him anymore? She'll have to ask herself how the God she believes in could possibly let...
... no, wait. Stop. I shouldn't say much more about Anna's past. Better to let you make discoveries with her along the way.
I suspect that you will ask, as I'm still asking, what in the world the Mother Superior was thinking. Should those who seek God be forced to face life's greatest horrors before declaring their love for God? Seems to me that the practice of faith is what can prepare a person to wrestle with those questions. That's just one of several confounding questions that keep the heart of this film anxiously beating.
Yes, Anna's journey is about facing the darkness. But it's also about facing temptations and discovering the glories of a sensual world that a novice must give up to become a nun. Even when she wears her habit, Anna is beautiful. And she's likely to draw attention out there in the world. What will she do if she finds love? Will she still want to give everything up for a life of holiness in the convent? But how can she make a real sacrifice for God if she doesn't know what she's sacrificing?
How do you solve a problem like Anna?
You send her to meet Red Wanda.
"Red Wanda" is the nickname that was given to Anna's Aunt Wanda (Agata Kulesza) back when she served as as a zealous judge for the Communist Party, prosecuting enemies of the state with such ferocity that she was feared. Wanda lives with the burden of that reputation. She tries to find ways to escape her own painful secrets — in sex, in smoking, in drinking. It isn't easy.
When the spiritual pilgrim finds her, Wanda becomes like Virgil, leading the naive young traveler down through Purgatory into a Hell of historical revelations. Less than 20 years after Stalin's cruelty became common knowledge, Poland is torn between a new embrace of free-thinking Western culture and a sort of cultural post-traumatic stress disorder. How can you enjoy freedom when the ground beneath your feet is marred by the graves of your people? You have to wonder if Anna will ever find her way back out into the bright lights of the innocence she knew as a novice at the convent in those opening scenes.
So Ida, directed by Pawel Pawlikowski (My Summer of Love), is quite a rarity — a film about two fascinating women, each on a journey through darkness.
You're unlikely to find any reviews of Ida that fail to mention Pawlikowski's painterly visual style. Cinematographers Lukasz Zal and Ryszard Lenczewski confine their images to a narrow 1.37 aspect ratio, which focuses and pressurizes the pictures. And yet, within that frame, they leave a lot of open space, so that shots press Anna against the sides of the frame or all the way to the bottom. She rarely ever stands fully before us front and center — sometimes we can only see the top part of her head. I found myself sensing just how off-center Anna must feel, how burdened and how small. Moreover, these big, bright open spaces seem to represent the unanswered questions Anna carries, or the unseen forces that are shaping her life, restricting her, or opening before her.
So it is an absolutely exhilarating sight when we finally see her set free from the habit and cautiously venturing out to discover who else she might be.
As Anna, actress Agata Trzebuchowska is one of the most arresting presences I've seen in a film since the rise of Binoche, Jacob, and Kieslowski's other muse, Julie Delpy. Trzebuchowska's quiet, observant demeanor is seductive and unsettling — not unlike Scarlett Johansson's almost alien gaze in Under the Skin. I'm not sure how he did it — fancy contact lenses? — but Pawlikowski darkens Anna's eyes in a way that is both are very effective, even if it is a bit of a gimmick. Playing the worldly, reckless, embittered Aunt Wanda, Agata Kulesza is compelling in an entirely different way, and I'm left wishing I could have known more of her story.
Ida is most interesting in its resemblance to French films of the 1960s. Watching Anna, I was reminded of young Marie from Au hasard Balthazar, another dark-eyed girl with big questions, quiet passions, and unstable adolescent impulses. Pawlikowski crafts his film in vivid black and white with striking compositions — too striking, perhaps, as his images often draw too much attention to themselves. But I admire his ambitions, his embrace of silence, and his interest in communicating through imagery rather than just a script.
The film also explores the tension between the practice of religious faith and the freedom of secular society in a way that reminded me of Luis Bunuel's dark comedy Simon of the Desert. In that film, a prophet is persuaded to come down from a pedestal and visit The World, symbolized by a jazz club. Anna will have encounters with jazz as well, and its sensuality will seem both a threat and a temptation.
I was also reminded of the way that Krzysztof Kieslowski's cameras adored his leading ladies. And I'm not the only one. Check out Alissa Wilkinson's review: She found echoes of Three Colors: Blue in this film — and I agree. I found echoes of Three Colors: Red, in which a young fashion model stumbles into the life of a retired judge who has taken to spying on his neighbors and punishing them for their sins. Here, Ida gets a taste of Wanda's despair, and follows along, torn between desire and horror, as her aunt seeks to uncover the crimes of a killer.
But above all, I kept thinking of Kieslowski's The Double Life of Veronique. In that film, Irene Jacob played a young woman who lives a passionate, musical life, unaware that she has something like a doppelganger, another self in the world who lives in a state of incompleteness, fragility, and insecurity. There's even a shot of Anna resting her head against a window that strikes me as a direct allusion to Veronique. And before the film is over, Anna will have become a different version of herself. But which version will she choose? Which will give her a stronger sense of purpose and satisfaction in view of the abyss that has opened at her feet?
After my first viewing, I found myself frustrated by Anna's inscrutability. On this descent from the rituals of the convent to the horrors and pleasures of the world, we only glimpse fleeting hints of what she's actually thinking and feeling. That, along with the distraction of Pawlikowski's startling compositions, kept me outside the movie looking in; I wasn't drawn in to experience what Ida was experiencing. For all of the drama happening around her, she herself remains the most intriguing mystery of all.
And so I present to you — in a typical year of cinema where women play parts in stories that are really about men — a rare and wonderful exception... a movie about women and the challenges set before them.
Anna's journey will leave her deeply conflicted about what she has seen, just as I feel rather conflicted about this movie. But Anna will never forget what she has seen; it will haunt her and challenge her to go on wrestling with questions great and terrible. And this movie is doing the same thing to me. It's been three weeks, and I can't stop thinking about her. I can't wait to see Ida again.
You're Not a Sexist Moviegoer. Or... Are You?
We're about halfway through 2014, and as I look at the Top 20 Box Office hits so far, something troubles me. Where are the substantial, meaningful leading roles for women?
I see four box office hits out of 20 — only four — that have a woman's name on the top of the poster: Maleficent, Divergent, The Other Woman, and The Fault in Our Stars.
I'm even more troubled if I look to these films in search of something resembling a real woman.
The Fault in Our Stars, starring Shailene Woodley, is the only one that qualifies. It's an admirable exception. (Even more remarkable, it's based on a highly praised novel!)
But the others? They give us a fairy tale wicked witch (Angelina Jolie); a Hunger Games-style action hero (Shailene Woodley again!); and, well, if the leading ladies in that fourth movie resemble the leading ladies in your life, God help you.
See if you can name the last five movies you saw in a theater. If you're really good at this, name the last ten. How many of them featured a female as the central character? I can hear some of you shouting Frozen! The Hunger Games: Catching Fire! Okay, those are good. Frozen is a pleasant surprise because it focuses on the overlooked subject of sisterhood. The Hunger Games gives us an intelligent action hero who actually dislikes action.
But what else? Anything?
Are you as likely to see a movie that features a female character in the lead as you are to buy a ticket to see a movie starring a man?
Hey, I'm guilty too. I probably see two or three or ten Man-Focused Movies for every Woman-Focused Movie. Only three of my ten favorite films give actresses top-billing (and two of them feature the same actress): Three Colors: Blue, Code Unknown, and Babette's Feast. How many of your favorites are led by actresses?
Still, I find that if I'm offered a film about a man and a film about a woman, I'm more likely to watch the latter. Why? Go ahead, make your jokes, but when it comes to the movies, female characters interest me more than male characters. Movies about men are likely to be about fighting or employing physical strength to achieve a goal... a subject so overdone that it usually bores me. It's very rare to see a movie about a man who is as much Mind as he is Body. But when women are the focus of a movie, there is usually something interesting going on behind her eyes.
Why do you think actors are a bigger box office draw than actresses? Is it that we prefer action and violence, so we end up watching men? Or is it just that the industry thinks it's what we want? What would have to change for things to take a turn toward equality?
I was delighted when, earlier today, my colleague Steven Greydanus pointed out an article at The Dissolve by Tasha Robinson that gets right to the heart of the problem. You've heard of the Bechdel Test, right? It's the test that you give a movie to see if it treats women as human beings who exist to do more than obsess over men. Well, Robinson is thinking about something slightly different.
Ladies and gentlemen, please note the invention of a new and meaningful term: "The Trinity Syndrome."
What is the Trinity Syndrome? It's what you get when you introduce a Strong Female Character, like Trinity in The Matrix, who comes across as confident and mature and badass and independent, but once she plays her part representing liberated women, she really only ends up only supporting a story that ultimately exalts the male characters. She doesn't even end up contributing much to the outcome of the story.
Consider Valka, the "important" new female character in How to Train Your Dragon 2.
Valka is just the latest example of the Superfluous, Flimsy Character disguised as a Strong Female Character. And possibly she’s the most depressing, considering Dragon 2’s other fine qualities, and considering how impressive she is in the abstract. The film spends so much time on making her first awe-inducing, then sympathetic, and just a little heartbreakingly pathetic in her isolation and awkwardness at meeting another human being. But once the introductions are finally done, and the battle starts, she immediately becomes useless, both to the rest of the cast and to the rapidly moving narrative. She faces the villain (the villain she’s apparently been successfully resisting alone for years!) and she’s instantly, summarily defeated. [Stoick and Hiccup, the male heroes,] utterly overshadow her; they need to rescue her twice in maybe five minutes. Her biggest contribution to the narrative is in giving Hiccup a brief, rote 'You are the Chosen One' pep talk. Then she all but disappears from the film...
Robinson goes on to point out other examples. You may not agree with her on all of them. (There's a good argument to be made that WyldStyle of The LEGO Movie doesn't really fit the "Trinity Syndrome" profile.) But I still think it's an important observation.
So, what to do? Where can we go to find intelligent, interesting, three-dimensional female characters who have stories of their own and who do not exist merely to contribute to a male character's story?
Good news. I've seen four movies about interesting, complicated, compelling female characters already this year. But they've been slipping under the radar — very few people are seeing them (Actually, I've seen five, if you count Scarlett Johansson in Under the Skin, but she's not really playing a woman in that film, is she?)
In the next four posts, I'm going to introduce my "Top Four Women of 2014 — So Far."
And I'll bet most of you haven't seen any of them.
Are you interested? If so, you're in for some unforgettable hours at the movies.
Not interested? Hmmm. Maybe you and your moviegoing dollars are part of the problem.
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If you appreciate this post and enjoy Jeffrey's work exploring the territory where art, faith, and culture intersect, you're invited to "Put Your Name in the Credits." Cast your vote for "Keep Looking Closer Alive." Make a donation. Offer whatever you feel moved to contribute. All donations will be applied directly to that materials, events, and experiences that make the blog happen. That's a Looking Closer promise.
How to Train Your Dragon 2: How to Spoil a Sequel
This isn't really a review of How to Train Your Dragon 2. It's more of a sigh of disappointment.
Since even my close friends are disagreeing with me on this one, you may be happier if you stick with the reviews I shared in my previous post about this movie.
Disclaimer: As I've said before, I'm suffering from serious burnout when it comes to frenzied battle scenes and us-versus-them fantasy spectacle. So I went into How to Train Your Dragon 2 with some concern. I enjoyed the first film in this franchise very much, and I'd read enough high praise to hope that the sequel might be something special.
And it is, for a while.
The first half is loaded with humor, imagination, wonderful character moments, subtle humor, and some strong mythic storytelling. It kindles themes about stewardship, leadership, and other -ships.
My favorite moments in the film take place when the dragons are playing together like dogs. I'd rather watch an hour-long featurette on dragons at play than watch what the film serves up in the last half-hour.
And I agree with those who have celebrated the film's central romance as remarkably affecting and human. The epic love story of Stoick and Valka is the stuff of a much better movie — I wanted to follow the story of their rekindled marriage for another hour.
There's also something called The Bewilderbeast which, in its early appearances, is one of the most magnificent, mysterious, magisterial (and other modifiers beginning with "m") creatures I have ever seen on the big screen. I was as enthralled by the sight of it as I've been by any of the glorious creatures in the films of Hayao Miyazaki, and it heightened my sense that this movie was turning into something truly extraordinary.
But all of that gravity was, for this moviegoer, squandered as the film succumbed to its need to deliver dragon-war mayhem.
Yes, I'm sorry to report that Dragon 2 falls victim to two summer movie illnesses that have become epidemic.
First, it devolves into "White Hat versus Black Hat" battle scenes — which is a shame. There's so much worthwhile storytelling happening that it doesn't even need a villain.
Second, it develops a case of Sequel-itis: It's bigger than the first one. Louder than the first one. It contains major revelations about the hero's parents (which are, I admit, handled better here than usual). It is overloaded with battle scenes. It shows off increasingly uninteresting special-effects advances. And ultimately, it chooses More over Better. Action swamps story, and leaves Huge Questions unanswered.
It's especially frustrating, after such a strong first half, that the story devolves into typical Summer Blockbuster chaos, arriving at a bone-jarring dead end with the worst rallying speech I've ever heard. It amounts to "Our enemies are relentless and crazy, but you know what? SO ARE WE!" Wow. Go team.
Is anyone else bored sick of those Peter Jackson moments when someone walks out onto a balcony and looks down to see that a vast enemy force (the size of which the earlier scenes never even hinted was possible) has arrived and is swarming like ants on the doorstep with impossible abruptness?
My heart sank when that moment came because, well... from there on, we know just what the energy of the rest of the movie will feel like. The wonderfully unique, character-based moments of the first half of the film are pretty much finished. The film's conclusion seems to forget that this was a film about Hiccup's revelations about his parentage, or about what it takes to be a leader. Instead, the screen turns busy with explosions. We get another addition to the trend of Massive Monsters Smashing Each Other and Every Large Structure Around Them. And the film's climactic moment feels like it's been cloned straight out of The Iron Giant (or, reaching back even farther, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom).
And it all raps up with the typical back-slapping and "Yeah, we sure showed them!" The last minute of the film is especially misguided. The heroes seem to conclude that this is the real lesson: Whoever controls the Monsters of Mass Destruction... wins!
When the film was over, my friend Danny remarked, "Well, that's like the official movie of the NRA." I see what he means. The film seems to suggest that massive firepower — like the firepower of dragons — is dangerous when it's controlled by "bad people," but it's just fine when it's entrusted to the right people. But before the movie's over, the hero delivers a speech that undermines his claims to wisdom and superiority. He says something like this: "Our enemies are crazy and relentless. But so are we! They can try, but they'll never take away our guns dragons!"
This is not the lesson that the world needs right now.
Okay, so the dragons in this movie aren't meant to represent guns. I know that. But the assertion that the power to unleash massive devastation is perfectly cool — and even fun to play with — if it's in the hands of a "good person" ... that's a dubious proposition at best.
Maybe in the movies you can have whole nations of "good people" who can happily and safely live with that kind of risk. But it doesn't seem to be working out for us here in the real world, where the people who are quickest to declare their trustworthiness often turn out to be the least trustworthy of all. One of the best things Gandalf did in The Lord of the Rings was reject the idea that destructive power is a good thing in the hands of a good man like him. When offered the ring, he rejected it. He knew that even in the hands of a good man, destructive power can still do a world of damage.
Whether or not you like my friend's NRA reference, surely you hear the weakness in Hiccup's concluding remarks. In his own story, the power he has actually begun to reveal is the power of love — not the power of dragons. But he doesn't seem to understand that. Maybe we just need to wait around for him to wise up. Maybe that would be a good focus for the inevitable third movie in the series. It would certainly increase the chances of that movie being the best in the series.
How to Train Your Dragon 2 (2014): A Looking Closer Film Forum
This is the first weekend in a long time that is really a weekend for me. I can rest, read, write, walk, explore... and go to the movies.
I'm thinking about seeing How to Train Your Dragon 2.
I'm normally frustrated with Dreamworks Animation films — they're usually obnoxious and misguided and pandering. But that film surprised me with impressive characterizations, an unexpectedly thoughtful plot, and 3D flight sequences. We watched a young Viking named Hiccup learn to consider his enemies with thoughtfulness instead of knee-jerk violence. And Hiccup’s father Stoick, a gargantuan Viking warrior, made a slow journey to appreciating his not-so-warlike son. Frankly, I got my money's worth just admiring the sight of Stoick’s magnificent red thicket of a beard.
So I'm asking (or rather, reading) some accomplished film critics who appreciate animation and films that have been crafted for families: Steven Greydanus, Scott Renshaw, Tasha Robinson, and Susan Wloszczyna.Read more
There Are No "Good People" and "Bad People": A Must-Read Response to the Hurt and the Heroism at Seattle Pacific University
What really happened at Seattle Pacific University on Thursday?
Did a "bad guy" show up on campus? Did "good guys" overcome him?
The following letter was posted on Facebook by Dr. Stamatis Vokos, a professor of physics at Seattle Pacific University. I think it's the most beautiful and important writing about this event that I have read, and I encourage you to share it with others.
Dear friends and colleagues, near and far,
Thank you for reaching out to share your care, send your warm thoughts, and inquire about our safety.
We are fine. And we aren’t. A freshman leaving my building was shot down by a stranger with a shotgun and eventually died of his wounds. The shooting was witnessed by two physics majors, one of whom was sprayed with shrapnel to his neck and torso. The shooter shot another student before being immobilized by a senior engineering student and several others. All this happened a few meters away from my office door. I was not in the building but several of my dear friends were there, including a pregnant graduate student who was just a few feet away and used her body to shield a student.
The shooter did not have any connection with the university, as far as I know. He did not know any of his victims. That makes my prideful self feel better. But I know that it doesn’t make a difference. There is no “us” and “them.” Or rather it makes all the difference in the world. An “us” vs. “them” mindset creates human suffering.
One of the benefits of working at a Christian university is that faculty and staff have similar lenses through which to interpret and give meaning to life happenings. There are no “good people” and “bad people.” There are people, with shared humanity, with common brokenness and common potential for redemption. In me lies the person who shoots, the person who lies wounded, the person who steps into the breach to save others, the person who sighs a guilty sigh of relief that he and his daughter are not in harm’s way.
I mourn for the lost innocence of my students. For the fact that my building—now a FBI crime scene—is off limits to the students who were hoping to finish their physics and engineering projects so that they would graduate next week. I mourn for the parents and friends of the freshman who died; for the dad of my student who was stuck in kidney dialysis for four hours worrying impotently about his son who had been whisked to the emergency room; for the mother of the other student who flew to Seattle from Arizona to wait in the surgery area for her daughter to emerge. I mourn for the young man and his family who have to live trying to make sense of his shootings.
But I also feel grateful that everyone rushed to support each other. I felt like a mother hen yesterday with a brood of chicks and a heart that was growing and growing to fit them all inside. I felt lifted up seeing an Orthodox Jew pray at the impromptu memorial in front of Otto Miller Hall. Across the street, the abbot of a local Russian Orthodox Christian monastery was offering words of encouragement to faculty and students.
Those of us who call ourselves Christians know that the so-called problem of evil is the most serious emotional threat to faith—why do bad things happen to undeserving people? How could an all-powerful loving God allow human suffering? But we also have the theological, intellectual, and experiential resources to know that the very question is ill-posed because it overestimates evil. Evil has been defeated, death has been defeated. Peace is not the absence of conflict—it is the absence of fear. Human suffering is not God’s will—at least not the God whom I worship. God stands with humans during our suffering. Love is stronger than evil; not in a dualistic sense but in the physics sense that a single “thing," light, and not two things, light and darkness, is the proper unit of analysis.
And love will prevail.
I know that not everyone agrees with my metaphysical commitments. That is fine. My anthropology allows for that—no, cherishes that. I know that we all agree that human flourishing is a good thing to strive for. In that light, I wish the very best to you and your loved ones and encourage you to pick one person today to shower your love on. Your love is the embodiment of good, it is the healing agent, it is the antidote to fear and suffering. It is the only transformative force in the universe. Not as an emotional “high” but as a stance toward being that unifies heart and mind.
And I thank you again for loving us.
--Stamatis
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Watch as the media turns the story of what happened at Seattle Pacific University into a story of a Hero and a Villain, "a good person" and "a bad person." (Responding to the SPU shooting, NPR did a story about "heroes" that went so far as to say that heroes are probably just "wired differently" than the rest of us — as if we live in a Marvel Comics universe.) That's the story we want to believe. But no... there is the potential for heroism and the potential for destruction within each of us.
At Seattle Pacific this week, I saw one person fail himself and the world, giving in to his capacity for destruction. But there is still hope for his healing. And I saw many exercising their capacity for grace and love. Some prevented him from killing more people. Some prayed for him.
There are many ways we can fail each other. We can commit violence. We can also be apathetic. We can forget too quickly the damage that has been done, while others continue to bear tremendous burdens. We can rush into shouting about gun regulations. (That is an important subject and the time will quickly arrive for us to address that; but right now, in this moment, I'm inclined to suspect that a political argument will take us into an arena of shouting and ugliness and generalizations, steering our attentions away from the immediate needs of people who are still wounded in front of us, people who are asking for help and love and grace and peace.)
Some, wanting to do more than just read the news, have been looking for ways to exercise grace. They are praying. They are serving. They are supporting students, families, faculty, and staff at Seattle Pacific, some of whom have been working tirelessly in crisis-response mode since Thursday afternoon at 3:30.
Some have asked how they can contribute funds to help Seattle Pacific students in the wake of this tragedy. SPU has created the “Rise Above” Fund. The purpose of this Fund is to give us an opportunity "to remember and rise above the tragedy of June 5 by supporting those directly affected and meeting special needs from across our community."
If you feel moved to support SPU in this way, please give.
Pray for Seattle Pacific University.
Thursday afternoon:
Report 1 - 4:30pm. :
I am in a conference room here at Seattle Pacific University with the staff of University Communications — my coworkers — and with some of our amazing student interns, some of whom have been preparing for graduation.
Please pray for our community. Over the coming days, we will be in charge of communicating with the SPU community and the media.
Pray for the victims, the students, the staff, the faculty, the families. And for the shooter. Christ asks us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us.
But right now, we're just following instructions to stay safe and to support one another.
Report 2 - 5:52pm :
The campus lockdown has been lifted. My team here is starting the engines necessary for informing our community and the public, and responding to the media... engines we had prayed we'd never have to start. I am here with them. My coworkers make an incredible team, responding with passion and excellence.
Even as we respond, our hearts break for the family of the student who died, and for the students at the hospital and their families.
Please... do not participate in the rush of online ranting about guns. Not yet. This is not the time. This is precious time. Join us in praying instead. We are praying as we work, and our work is a prayer. If we truly desire peace, we must manifest it. And what this community needs and asks right now is for your prayers.
There will be a prayer service at First Free Methodist Church, across the street from campus on 3rd Avenue West, at 7 p.m. tonight.
"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."