Christian Spotlight on Entertainment has uploaded my review of Battle in Seattle (which I screened at TIFF last year but is now making some theatrical rounds).
Here is a link.
Here is a link.
Tuesday, 29 January 2008
Tuesday, 22 January 2008
Juno, Atonement
Posted on 12:30 by Unknown
Saw Juno finally, and liked it more than I expected though (of course) not as much as I think I am supposed to and definitely not as much as I might have were it not some sort of hipster, critical-taste litmus test being shoved down my throat.
It was not without its faults. I thought it a bit too much on Juno's side and a bit too "hey look how clever I am" for its own good. But it avoided many of the obvious pitfalls of such a genre, the primary one being making everyone around the protagonist a jerk so the audience has no place else to go.
It was like they were brave in allowing Juno to be unsympathetic at times, but then (it felt like to me) lost their nerve and had throw in some mouthy technician or well-timed private break down so that we got, you know, that the "tough broad" exterior was an act to cover up the fear and trembling. I thought Jennifer Garner was superb...could easily have walked off with the picture if her part had been bigger and made a real human being out of the thinnest of caricatures. I'm not sure I felt Juno ever really owned her part in what brought her to the situation she was in, the scene with the technician being a good example. Yeah, her comment was inappropriate, but Juno was (as she often was throughout the film) trying to turn the whole thing into a joke as her coping mechanism, and I thought the film (and character) did an awful lot of judging for a film (and character) that took offense at anyone daring to judge her.
Atonement was a solid literary adaption with a good pedigree. It's the sort of film that I could easily see winning a Best Picture Oscar from an academy too old and experienced to not know Juno is looking down on them them and too conventional into being fooled by arguments that No Country for Old Men or There Will be Blood is anything but style over nihilistic substance. [Note--I wrote that before the nominations came out; four out of five ain't bad.]
By contrast to those pictures "Atonement" wears its moral earnestness on its sleeve, and if the end is (perhaps) nihilism-very-lite, its got the cast of up-and-comers like Garai, Knightly, and McAvoy to make voters feel like they are out in front while still being relatively safe. There's even a cameo by Vanessa Redgrave to lend a stamp of old school imprimatur to the proceedings.
It's sweeping without being heavy and while it is a tad self-conscious in places for my taste (the long tracking shot take in the middle of the picture feels to me like an "anything Cuaron can do, I can to better" self-indulgence rather than a stylistic serviced to the film). Still, for the most part, Wright gets out of the way and lets the material speak for itself, and if and when I'm in the right frame of mind (I was tonight), I can appreciate a solid, commercial literary adaptation for what it is and enjoy it--maybe even more than a film that keeps insisting to me that it is the greatest thing since orange Tic-Tacs.
It wasn't "Persepolis," but I enjoyed it for what it was.
__._,_.___
It was not without its faults. I thought it a bit too much on Juno's side and a bit too "hey look how clever I am" for its own good. But it avoided many of the obvious pitfalls of such a genre, the primary one being making everyone around the protagonist a jerk so the audience has no place else to go.
It was like they were brave in allowing Juno to be unsympathetic at times, but then (it felt like to me) lost their nerve and had throw in some mouthy technician or well-timed private break down so that we got, you know, that the "tough broad" exterior was an act to cover up the fear and trembling. I thought Jennifer Garner was superb...could easily have walked off with the picture if her part had been bigger and made a real human being out of the thinnest of caricatures. I'm not sure I felt Juno ever really owned her part in what brought her to the situation she was in, the scene with the technician being a good example. Yeah, her comment was inappropriate, but Juno was (as she often was throughout the film) trying to turn the whole thing into a joke as her coping mechanism, and I thought the film (and character) did an awful lot of judging for a film (and character) that took offense at anyone daring to judge her.
Atonement was a solid literary adaption with a good pedigree. It's the sort of film that I could easily see winning a Best Picture Oscar from an academy too old and experienced to not know Juno is looking down on them them and too conventional into being fooled by arguments that No Country for Old Men or There Will be Blood is anything but style over nihilistic substance. [Note--I wrote that before the nominations came out; four out of five ain't bad.]
By contrast to those pictures "Atonement" wears its moral earnestness on its sleeve, and if the end is (perhaps) nihilism-very-lite, its got the cast of up-and-comers like Garai, Knightly, and McAvoy to make voters feel like they are out in front while still being relatively safe. There's even a cameo by Vanessa Redgrave to lend a stamp of old school imprimatur to the proceedings.
It's sweeping without being heavy and while it is a tad self-conscious in places for my taste (the long tracking shot take in the middle of the picture feels to me like an "anything Cuaron can do, I can to better" self-indulgence rather than a stylistic serviced to the film). Still, for the most part, Wright gets out of the way and lets the material speak for itself, and if and when I'm in the right frame of mind (I was tonight), I can appreciate a solid, commercial literary adaptation for what it is and enjoy it--maybe even more than a film that keeps insisting to me that it is the greatest thing since orange Tic-Tacs.
It wasn't "Persepolis," but I enjoyed it for what it was.
__._,_.___
Sunday, 20 January 2008
Emma (59-63) -- "But she struggled, and let it pass."
Posted on 18:46 by Unknown
I don't really have much to say about Chapter 11. It begins with a conscious decision to put aside the matchmaking for the moment and ends with details about Isabella's and John's visit.
I see two interesting passages that give insight into Emma.
In describing how the impending visit does not leave time for Emma to promote the match, the text says:
"It was no longer in Emma's power to superintend his happiness or quicken measures" (59).
This passage is ironic because it implies that it once was in Emma's power to superintend anyone's happiness or quicken his measures. Clearly we are still in a part of Emma's development where she believes she can impose her will on the world. Harriet is a gentleman's child because Emma says she is, she can superintend the happiness of others.
Just as in other passages, however, we also see Emma's capability of self-government. When John Knightley claims that Mr. Weston probably does not feel the absence of Frank as strongly as Isabella would since Weston relies on public pleasures more than family for happiness, Emma "could not like what bordered on a reflection on Mr. Weston and had half a mind to take it up" (63).
I would say it doesn't border on a reflection; it is a reflection. Emma "would keep the peace if possible" (63). This passage would be interesting if it were solely a matter of self-discipline. In addition, though, Emma has a reflection on John: "there was something honourable and valuable in the strong domestic habits, the all-sufficiency of home to himself, whence resulted her brother's disposition to look down on the common rate of social intercourse, and those to whom it was important.--It had a high claim to forbearance" (63).
This passage is one that is likely to provoke different responses on a second as opposed to a first reading, in part because it can reasonably be interpreted in different ways. Is John really as he is described or is Emma merely making excuses for him as well? What exactly is the connection between his "strong domestic habits" and the "high claim to forbearance"? It is something more than a fancy way of saying that Emma held her tongue to keep the peace, since the passage insists that Emma "let it pass" not just to keep the peace but because the source of his looking down on Weston is a habit which has the "honourable and valuable" in it. Or is this a lie Emma tells herself to make swallowing her tongue more palatable (no pun intended). On a subconscious level does she know it would irk her (or that she would not be able) to keep silent in the face of someone less than deserving? Perhaps, though her subsequent conduct towards Mrs. Elton makes this line of argument tentative at best.
It's also worth pointing out that John "suspects" Mr. Weston belongs to the class of people depending on "the power of eating and drinking, and playing whist with neighbors" (63). This portrait doesn't really mesh with the portrait we have of Weston who has been portrayed as giving up a lot of the comforts of society to marry for love. It's also somewhat odd that John suggests a connection between the dependence on society and "an easy, cheerful tempered" disposition. In my own experience, at least, it is those of "strong feelings" who most crave social interaction, and a cheerful, easy disposition is held by many of my friends who I would classify as introverts or who are content to find pleasure in family. So Emma might not be the only one in her family who makes pronouncements out of thin air without much reference to logical reasoning or contrary evidence.
Then again, perhaps John is simply saying this to divert the conversation from an unpleasant (and rather inappropriate) turn. What "borders on a reflection" of Weston's disposition is part of a conversation that is quite frankly a combination of censure and gossip, since it it prompted by Isabella's reflection on his character--a question of how he could give up his child to the Churchills. It is strange that Emma takes more umbrage at John's defense of Weston, containing as it does an oblique critique of his character but not at Isabella's labeling of living arrangement as beyond comprehension, containing as it does a rather overt critique of Weston's character for allowing it.
Or maybe it isn't strange at all. Perhaps part of the reason she struggled and let it pass was that she could not come up with a way of taking exception to John's conduct here without taking exception at Isabella's.
In any case, this passage is a prime example of how, especially early on (and in a first reading) the strong association with the narrative, semi-omniscient voice and Emma's voice can lull the reader into accepting as fact characterizations and conclusions that the text presents only as Emma's assumptions or interpretations.
I see two interesting passages that give insight into Emma.
In describing how the impending visit does not leave time for Emma to promote the match, the text says:
"It was no longer in Emma's power to superintend his happiness or quicken measures" (59).
This passage is ironic because it implies that it once was in Emma's power to superintend anyone's happiness or quicken his measures. Clearly we are still in a part of Emma's development where she believes she can impose her will on the world. Harriet is a gentleman's child because Emma says she is, she can superintend the happiness of others.
Just as in other passages, however, we also see Emma's capability of self-government. When John Knightley claims that Mr. Weston probably does not feel the absence of Frank as strongly as Isabella would since Weston relies on public pleasures more than family for happiness, Emma "could not like what bordered on a reflection on Mr. Weston and had half a mind to take it up" (63).
I would say it doesn't border on a reflection; it is a reflection. Emma "would keep the peace if possible" (63). This passage would be interesting if it were solely a matter of self-discipline. In addition, though, Emma has a reflection on John: "there was something honourable and valuable in the strong domestic habits, the all-sufficiency of home to himself, whence resulted her brother's disposition to look down on the common rate of social intercourse, and those to whom it was important.--It had a high claim to forbearance" (63).
This passage is one that is likely to provoke different responses on a second as opposed to a first reading, in part because it can reasonably be interpreted in different ways. Is John really as he is described or is Emma merely making excuses for him as well? What exactly is the connection between his "strong domestic habits" and the "high claim to forbearance"? It is something more than a fancy way of saying that Emma held her tongue to keep the peace, since the passage insists that Emma "let it pass" not just to keep the peace but because the source of his looking down on Weston is a habit which has the "honourable and valuable" in it. Or is this a lie Emma tells herself to make swallowing her tongue more palatable (no pun intended). On a subconscious level does she know it would irk her (or that she would not be able) to keep silent in the face of someone less than deserving? Perhaps, though her subsequent conduct towards Mrs. Elton makes this line of argument tentative at best.
It's also worth pointing out that John "suspects" Mr. Weston belongs to the class of people depending on "the power of eating and drinking, and playing whist with neighbors" (63). This portrait doesn't really mesh with the portrait we have of Weston who has been portrayed as giving up a lot of the comforts of society to marry for love. It's also somewhat odd that John suggests a connection between the dependence on society and "an easy, cheerful tempered" disposition. In my own experience, at least, it is those of "strong feelings" who most crave social interaction, and a cheerful, easy disposition is held by many of my friends who I would classify as introverts or who are content to find pleasure in family. So Emma might not be the only one in her family who makes pronouncements out of thin air without much reference to logical reasoning or contrary evidence.
Then again, perhaps John is simply saying this to divert the conversation from an unpleasant (and rather inappropriate) turn. What "borders on a reflection" of Weston's disposition is part of a conversation that is quite frankly a combination of censure and gossip, since it it prompted by Isabella's reflection on his character--a question of how he could give up his child to the Churchills. It is strange that Emma takes more umbrage at John's defense of Weston, containing as it does an oblique critique of his character but not at Isabella's labeling of living arrangement as beyond comprehension, containing as it does a rather overt critique of Weston's character for allowing it.
Or maybe it isn't strange at all. Perhaps part of the reason she struggled and let it pass was that she could not come up with a way of taking exception to John's conduct here without taking exception at Isabella's.
In any case, this passage is a prime example of how, especially early on (and in a first reading) the strong association with the narrative, semi-omniscient voice and Emma's voice can lull the reader into accepting as fact characterizations and conclusions that the text presents only as Emma's assumptions or interpretations.
Friday, 18 January 2008
Blade Runner: The Final Cut (2007)
Posted on 19:36 by Unknown
"Are you proud of yourself, little man?"
The question, asked by Roy, the replicant (Rutger Hauer), to Deckard (Harrison Ford), echoes at the core of my still developing understanding and appreciation of Ridley Scott's science-fiction masterpiece.
The film finally opened in Durham, North Carolina this weekend, and Cindy took me to see it on the big screen to celebrate my "inception date."
Roy asks the question after Deckard has "retired" Pris (Darryl Hannah), that word being the euphemism for killing.
Of course, one can't "kill" a machine, even a very life-like one, but even though logic and law tells you (and Deckard) that putting bullets into Pris is no different than pulling the plug on a hard drive or slaughtering an animal, something in his conscience tells him otherwise. Something that can't be numbed by all the alcohol he keeps chugging down to still his shaking hands. Pesky things, consciences. We can't retain our humanity without them, but they often make it hard for us to live with ourselves.
Pris's "retirement" is painful to watch. Painful for Deckard and painful for us. Her body jerks in spasms reminiscent of some short circuiting robot, but also of a marionette jerked on a string, or a creation of Frankenstein jolted with electricity. It is the antithesis of so many movie deaths that happen at distance and desensitize us to violence. The deaths, like the moral choices in the film, are not neat, not clean. Things get messy. Things get painful.
Roy wants to know if Deckard can look on his work and call it good.
Blade Runner is, above all else, a film about what makes us human. What is it that Deckard has that the replicants don't that make his life somehow more valuable than their existence? Emotions? Memories? A conscience? A lot of ink has been spilled over the question of whether or not Deckard is himself a replicant, but in the end I'm not sure that how we answer that question is all that relevant to the film's message about respect for all life.
On an intellectual level, the film tells us it may not matter because if we can't distinguish human from replicant than any justification for treating them differently is really doomed to implode under the weight of its own hypocrisy. On an emotional level, the film argues that the sadness and horror our eyes and souls feel at the sight of the replicants' deaths are real, even if the replicants are not. And the reality of that emotion trumps and overpowers whatever arguments we make to ourselves to try to convince ourselves that it is okay.
In an election year that has seen a resurgence of debates about the justification of torture, Blade Runner reminds us that violence always extracts a price on those who use it, not just on those who receive it. Each time we act in violence a part of our own humanity is lost, or at least repressed. So even if we can convince ourselves that the objects of our violence are not covered under whatever moral or legal code we operate under, we can't escape the fact that the agents of violence are haunted and scarred by the experience of using it.
As an aside, the film holds up very well on a technical level, which was a relief. It is always a dangerous thing to revisit a film around which there is a mystique, lest the actual fact fails to live up to your memory of it. Blade Runner may not have the "wow" factor it did in the 1980s in regards to its special effects or art design, but unlike many contemporary action or genre pieces, there is something there in addition to spectacle, so once the giddy rush of spectacle (or the warm wave of nostalgia) wears off, there is still a core of ideas within the film for the viewer to contemplate.
*****************************************************************
Link to my interview with Doug Cummings about Blade Runner, at The Matthews House Project.
The question, asked by Roy, the replicant (Rutger Hauer), to Deckard (Harrison Ford), echoes at the core of my still developing understanding and appreciation of Ridley Scott's science-fiction masterpiece.
The film finally opened in Durham, North Carolina this weekend, and Cindy took me to see it on the big screen to celebrate my "inception date."
Roy asks the question after Deckard has "retired" Pris (Darryl Hannah), that word being the euphemism for killing.
Of course, one can't "kill" a machine, even a very life-like one, but even though logic and law tells you (and Deckard) that putting bullets into Pris is no different than pulling the plug on a hard drive or slaughtering an animal, something in his conscience tells him otherwise. Something that can't be numbed by all the alcohol he keeps chugging down to still his shaking hands. Pesky things, consciences. We can't retain our humanity without them, but they often make it hard for us to live with ourselves.
Pris's "retirement" is painful to watch. Painful for Deckard and painful for us. Her body jerks in spasms reminiscent of some short circuiting robot, but also of a marionette jerked on a string, or a creation of Frankenstein jolted with electricity. It is the antithesis of so many movie deaths that happen at distance and desensitize us to violence. The deaths, like the moral choices in the film, are not neat, not clean. Things get messy. Things get painful.
Roy wants to know if Deckard can look on his work and call it good.
Blade Runner is, above all else, a film about what makes us human. What is it that Deckard has that the replicants don't that make his life somehow more valuable than their existence? Emotions? Memories? A conscience? A lot of ink has been spilled over the question of whether or not Deckard is himself a replicant, but in the end I'm not sure that how we answer that question is all that relevant to the film's message about respect for all life.
On an intellectual level, the film tells us it may not matter because if we can't distinguish human from replicant than any justification for treating them differently is really doomed to implode under the weight of its own hypocrisy. On an emotional level, the film argues that the sadness and horror our eyes and souls feel at the sight of the replicants' deaths are real, even if the replicants are not. And the reality of that emotion trumps and overpowers whatever arguments we make to ourselves to try to convince ourselves that it is okay.
In an election year that has seen a resurgence of debates about the justification of torture, Blade Runner reminds us that violence always extracts a price on those who use it, not just on those who receive it. Each time we act in violence a part of our own humanity is lost, or at least repressed. So even if we can convince ourselves that the objects of our violence are not covered under whatever moral or legal code we operate under, we can't escape the fact that the agents of violence are haunted and scarred by the experience of using it.
As an aside, the film holds up very well on a technical level, which was a relief. It is always a dangerous thing to revisit a film around which there is a mystique, lest the actual fact fails to live up to your memory of it. Blade Runner may not have the "wow" factor it did in the 1980s in regards to its special effects or art design, but unlike many contemporary action or genre pieces, there is something there in addition to spectacle, so once the giddy rush of spectacle (or the warm wave of nostalgia) wears off, there is still a core of ideas within the film for the viewer to contemplate.
*****************************************************************
Link to my interview with Doug Cummings about Blade Runner, at The Matthews House Project.
Thursday, 17 January 2008
Another Word on "A Promise to the Dead"
Posted on 12:47 by Unknown
I always feel bad after a morning descrying arguments or ideas I don't like rather than promoting ideas, films, or causes that I found of value.
So I thought I'd add a postscript to my recent post about the silliness of making lists of films that portray Christianity in a positive light by mentioning that of the 2007 films that comprised my ten favorite viewing experiences, "A Promise to the Dead: The Exile Journey of Ariel Dorfman," while not a commercial, Hollywood release, does portray Christianity in a positive light.
At least I think it does.
It tells of individual Christians and parts of their institutions seeking to shelter and help people who were being terrorized by the Pinochet regime.
Of course, it also portrays people who weren't Christian doing the same. And it portrays many who acted who are not specifically identified as Christians but could well have been. Which is, I guess, my point.
There is a scene in the film that affected me emotionally. Dorfman is recollecting taking asylum in an embassy and walking on the grounds when a sleeping bag goes over the wall followed by gunshots. It is unclear whether someone has been killed trying to get into the compound or, knowing he was about to be killed, used his last few seconds to give what little he had to someone else who needed it.
It reminded me of a story my brother once told me about my family history. We had an elder brother who was murdered in a restaurant hold-up. One of the personal effects that was eventually returned to us was the watch my murdered brother was wearing. Eventually, either the glass or the battery had to be replaced, and when the watch face was removed, a ring of dried blood was present around the outer rim of the watch face.
It made my brother realize that someone--someone he or I maybe never met--had to have taken the time to very carefully clean that watch before he or she returned it to us. Not a pleasant job. How much easier it might have been to just tell us it was not retrievable or in a condition we wouldn't want. Yet whoever did it had to know that having the watch back would alleviate some of the family's pain just as getting it back soaked in blood would have added to it.
Have you ever tried to get blood off or out of something that was saturated in it?
My point is, in the face of such acts, it just seems petty 1 to me to ask or wonder whether the person who did it specifically identified himself as a Christian and was consciously motivated by that fact.
The fruits of the spirit include love, joy, peace, kindness, compassion, longsuffering, faithfullness...and my understanding is that these are qualities not natural to fallen men, qualities inspired and motivated by the spirit of God working in us and through us whether we know it or not--for, as George MacDonald says, sometimes God approaches us from behind, and we do not sense or know He is drawing closer until He overtakes us.
I just wish sometimes that we weren't so poor and petty in the things we could thank God for...in our lives or in our films. MacDonald again:
1"Petty" is, I realize, both a snarky and a charged word choice here. But I couldn't think of a more apt word choice.
So I thought I'd add a postscript to my recent post about the silliness of making lists of films that portray Christianity in a positive light by mentioning that of the 2007 films that comprised my ten favorite viewing experiences, "A Promise to the Dead: The Exile Journey of Ariel Dorfman," while not a commercial, Hollywood release, does portray Christianity in a positive light.
At least I think it does.
It tells of individual Christians and parts of their institutions seeking to shelter and help people who were being terrorized by the Pinochet regime.
Of course, it also portrays people who weren't Christian doing the same. And it portrays many who acted who are not specifically identified as Christians but could well have been. Which is, I guess, my point.
There is a scene in the film that affected me emotionally. Dorfman is recollecting taking asylum in an embassy and walking on the grounds when a sleeping bag goes over the wall followed by gunshots. It is unclear whether someone has been killed trying to get into the compound or, knowing he was about to be killed, used his last few seconds to give what little he had to someone else who needed it.
It reminded me of a story my brother once told me about my family history. We had an elder brother who was murdered in a restaurant hold-up. One of the personal effects that was eventually returned to us was the watch my murdered brother was wearing. Eventually, either the glass or the battery had to be replaced, and when the watch face was removed, a ring of dried blood was present around the outer rim of the watch face.
It made my brother realize that someone--someone he or I maybe never met--had to have taken the time to very carefully clean that watch before he or she returned it to us. Not a pleasant job. How much easier it might have been to just tell us it was not retrievable or in a condition we wouldn't want. Yet whoever did it had to know that having the watch back would alleviate some of the family's pain just as getting it back soaked in blood would have added to it.
Have you ever tried to get blood off or out of something that was saturated in it?
My point is, in the face of such acts, it just seems petty 1 to me to ask or wonder whether the person who did it specifically identified himself as a Christian and was consciously motivated by that fact.
The fruits of the spirit include love, joy, peace, kindness, compassion, longsuffering, faithfullness...and my understanding is that these are qualities not natural to fallen men, qualities inspired and motivated by the spirit of God working in us and through us whether we know it or not--for, as George MacDonald says, sometimes God approaches us from behind, and we do not sense or know He is drawing closer until He overtakes us.
I just wish sometimes that we weren't so poor and petty in the things we could thank God for...in our lives or in our films. MacDonald again:
If then we go wrong, it will be in the direction of the right, and with such aberration as will be easier to correct then what must come of refusing to imagine, and leaving the dullest traditional prepossessions to rule our hearts and minds, with no claim but the poverty of their expectation from the paternal riches.
1"Petty" is, I realize, both a snarky and a charged word choice here. But I couldn't think of a more apt word choice.
Helping Kids See Great Films
Posted on 12:05 by Unknown
I've mentioned before in this blog that I find Kiva to be a places where I generally end up feeling good about sending a charitable donation. (They provide no interest micro-loans to needy entrepreneurs.)
Today I got a letter from Facets, a resource I've used to rent hard to find films only available on VHS such as Antonioni's "The Red Desert" or Bresson's "The Devil, Probably."
The letter mentioned that Facets has "set out to empower all children by creating an astonishing archive of the best non-violent, humanistic films for children" that could be viewed in screenings for little or no cost and that children could borrow free of charge.
Over 30,000 children attended the Chicago International Film Festival last year. I believe art can transform lives and bring hope to those who must struggle against daily realities far more harsh than those I have to confront.
Among some of the programs they are having trouble funding:
1) Free screenings of "non-violent humanistic films for children."
2) Free VHS rentals of these films to inner city kids.
3) Replacement of these VHS films with DVDS when available.
4) Chicago International Children's Film Festival.
5) Young Chicago Critics summer media art camp. (70% of kids who
attend do so on scholarship)
The next time you and/or your friends go to the movies, why not lay aside the cost of one extra ticket as though you were taking someone with you who could not afford it? Then, why not send that money to Facets to help them continue these worthy programs.
I was priviliged as a child to have access to books and films.
Today I got a letter from Facets, a resource I've used to rent hard to find films only available on VHS such as Antonioni's "The Red Desert" or Bresson's "The Devil, Probably."
The letter mentioned that Facets has "set out to empower all children by creating an astonishing archive of the best non-violent, humanistic films for children" that could be viewed in screenings for little or no cost and that children could borrow free of charge.
Over 30,000 children attended the Chicago International Film Festival last year. I believe art can transform lives and bring hope to those who must struggle against daily realities far more harsh than those I have to confront.
Among some of the programs they are having trouble funding:
1) Free screenings of "non-violent humanistic films for children."
2) Free VHS rentals of these films to inner city kids.
3) Replacement of these VHS films with DVDS when available.
4) Chicago International Children's Film Festival.
5) Young Chicago Critics summer media art camp. (70% of kids who
attend do so on scholarship)
These seem like worthy programs to me.
The next time you and/or your friends go to the movies, why not lay aside the cost of one extra ticket as though you were taking someone with you who could not afford it? Then, why not send that money to Facets to help them continue these worthy programs.
I was priviliged as a child to have access to books and films.
Is Hollywood Prejudiced Against Christians or are Christians Prejudiced Against Hollywood?
Posted on 09:50 by Unknown
Okay, I don't normally do this, but I'm going to link here to a conversation or thread on another blog. Over at Looking Closer, my friend Jeffrey Overstreet asked for "Hollywood movies made since the turn of the millennium that present Christianity in a positive light" to supplement a list made by another critic/friend of his.
Normally, I would just post a comment at his blog, but since I have a few choice words about the question and since my response could be qualified as a "rant," I'd rather not stir things up needlessly on someone else's turf when he or she is trying to sincerely address or answer a question that I think is both loaded and stupid.
Anyway, here are some of my thoughts about biases and who really has them:
***********************************************************************************
Normally, I would just post a comment at his blog, but since I have a few choice words about the question and since my response could be qualified as a "rant," I'd rather not stir things up needlessly on someone else's turf when he or she is trying to sincerely address or answer a question that I think is both loaded and stupid.
Anyway, here are some of my thoughts about biases and who really has them:
***********************************************************************************
One problem with the request (not the list) is that few good movies portray *anything* in an unequivocally, unambiguously, consistently good light.
Laying aside momentarily the qualification of since 2000 and just focusing on the criteria for inclusion on the list…
By Christianity do we mean Christians (or those who profess to be) or the religion of Christianity? To what extent is the religion of Christianity conflated with the institutions that include its adherents? Do films such as "Honeydripper," "A Man For All Seasons," or "Becket" that depict individuals of faith and contrasts them with other, negative characters of faith qualify as positive portrayals? How do we treat or think of films that show people in the process of faith development--characters who may not be entirely positive or negative in their
behavior but are growing (or seeking to grow) in their understanding of what it means to be Christian? (I'm thinking of characters such as Sarah Miles in "The End of the Affair" or Frankie Dunn in "Million Dollar Baby.")
Do the characters that are portrayed favorably in "Amazing Grace" and are Christian offset or trump the characters in the same film that are portrayed negatively and are Christian? (Does "The Sopranos" portray Italian-Americans in a positive or negative light? It might depend on if you look at Melfi or Tony.)
Are characters such as Clarice Starling in "Silence of the Lambs" or John Anderton in "Minority Report" ever or sufficiently associated with Christianity to the extent that the moral choices they make cast their* faith* in a good light, or must a film make an explicit, overt (and heavy-handed) connection between a character's faith and his/her moral choices in order to qualify as a positive portrayal of religion? Must the character announce before every good deed, "I am doing this because I am a Christian; were I not, I would make a different, more evil and selfish choice instead"?
In other words, the phrases "portray," "Christianity," and "in a positive light," are all hopelessly subjective and (I would argue) hopelessly ambiguous. (Not to mention people at Jeff's blog are already parsing what "Hollywood" means...studio funded? studio distributed? made independently by people who live in or are from Hollywood area?)
Try substituting just about any abstract or group noun for "Christianity" and ask for the same list. Please name me 20 Hollywood films that portray "Hispanics" or "women" or "Authority figures" or "democracy" or "capitalism" or "liberals" or "conservatives" or "muslims," or "atheists" or “librarians” or “salesmen” or “people who practice any form of birth control” in a "positive light”...remembering examples seems to me to be about equally difficult, which suggests to me that the difficulty in deriving such a lists says more about the poor way the question is framed than about some ideological hegemony in Hollywood.
The request also depends on the fact that we tend to remember anecdotal examples that confirm our hypotheses more readily and easily than those that don't. Compare the following three requests...
1) Off the top of your head, without running off to Google or IMDB, name 20 Hollywood films since 2000 that have a car chase.
2) Off the top of your head, without running off to Google or IMDB, name 20 Hollywood films that depict successful and meaningful inter-racial friendships.
3) Off the top of your head, without running off to Google or IMDB, name 20 Hollywood films since 2000.
My point here is that the ease or difficulty in formulating any of these lists has as much to do with what makes something memorable as it does with how frequent the thing is. If I immediately provided you with 20 examples of #1 and #2, would that really convince you that #1 and #2 were equally prevalent in the movies, or would you walk away still convinced of your opinion that Hollywood is “pro car chase” and “anti inter-racial friendship”?
I refuse to play this game (defend Hollywood from claims of anti-Christian bias by pointing to anecdotal examples), not because the odds are stacked against me but because the rules and Pharisaical judges are. The way the question is formulated and presented makes it appear to me that it is not a serious request for a reasoned argument but a statement of opinion in the rhetorical form of a question--an opinion (that Hollywood is biased against Christians) that is fraught with its own assumptions and prejudices, and those of the type that are seldom, in my experience, assuaged or deterred by reasoning or contrary data.
None of this means, of course, that this particular stereotype (that Hollywood has, on the whole, a negative attitude towards Christianity) isn’t, in fact true.
Stereotypes sometimes have a seed of truth in them or an origin in fact (before they become distorted or exaggerated). But the same could be said of anti-Christian stereotypes.
Are we so confident, I wonder, in how virtuous we are and how virtuously we act in and towards the rest of the world, that the only possible explanation for a negative reputation is an irrational and unfair prejudice? Could it be—I’m just asking—that one reason so many Christians are portrayed as jerks in contemporary media is that a lot of Christians act like jerks in contemporary society?
Just a thought.
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