requests…?

anyone who’s read my blogs with consistency has deduced two things: I have limited access to internet, and I love movies.

I’d like to spark more discussion, especially with any perspectives that disagree with my own. So, are there any requests out there?

I’ve been reviewing anything I darn well pleased, as much as I am able.

Next friday, as always I’ll have a new review. I’m thinking the Princess and the Frog…?

As long as a movie is accessable in Tucson, and doesn’t have gratuitous sex and violence, I’ll go with ‘my fans’ most popular choice for film review.

Vote early and often!

The Blind Side movie review

The Blind Side had one of the simplest themes of any movie I’d seen. This is what makes it so compelling, engaging, and uplifting.

The movie, as movies often do, didn’t really begin at the beginning. I felt the narration was unneccessary, even if it was fun listening to Bullock’s southern belle accent talk about football strategy/history while watching and reviewing an infamous play unravel before our eyes, analyzing second by second. The flashback that immediately follows just gets us off to a tricky start, making the opener anything but a smooth transition to the story.

The other problem, which was unavoidable, was that the character we’re rooting for isn’t the protagonist. Also,  he has probably fewer lines of dialogue from start to finish than I’ve already written here.

The real push comes from  Bullock’s character, and she does it in fine style. Very dimensional, and real conflict. When the real beginning of the movie comes, about three minutes in when we see Big Mike being driven from his neighborhood to a private school, the story grows wings.

The visuals tell the story seamlessly; showing,  not telling. From here, even though Big Mike’s words are few and far between, they have gravity to them and often tug at your heart. (Mike’s arch begins with him overhearing the argument while trying to sleep on a couch… very touching, NOT sappy) The deep issues rise naturally and quickly with the dialogue. Nothing feels forced, from comic relief to dramatic elements to character reveals. The film plants us in the shoes of Big Mike nearly from its start and keeps us routing for him and his new family through the end.

Though the story is very plain, it is always engaging. What I’ve come to learn from my fiction writing experiences is that simplicity is beauty. This movie says a lot with a little, drawing on themes of family, hope, and most importantly commitment. The direction and cinematography practically make you smell the streets and feel textures, enhancing the structure previously provided by characters as real as the story.

See this one, you have theoriginalshawn guarantee that it’s worth your while.

coming soon (really)

Movie review for Blind Side; will have new article posted Friday morning.

dear reader:

please forgive my absent-mindedness! First, this is not a review of either Pirate Radio, or Oh My God!

sincerest apologies; I simply went to the movie theater unprepared. I do not have internet access where I live yet, which is an oxymoron really. So, my only option was to see 2012, which was about the bottom on my list of choices.

so here goes…

2012 is exactly what you’re expecting, so if you read this with a tinge of disappointment, don’t see the movie.

-sound like your psychiatrist, don’t I? “How do YOU feel about this?”

Well, it’s Roland Emmerich’s Armageddon action style, upgraded with the latest, and convincing, computer animation along with what looks like hydraulic stages filmed in front of a green screen with flashing lights and all the old school magic of Hollywood studios. That’s not a knock- I like the mixing of old and new styles of cinematically suspending disbelief. This movie plays to its strong point. The rest is left to the wayside, but there’s an interesting subtext here that comes to a climax between two of the main characters’ personal convictions modeled to reflect the audience’s natural opinions of the scenario presented. This comes along with the action climax, and is structured well.

The protagonist poses the question, in the eleventh-hour (paraphrased): how can we restart humanity with an act of cruelty?

He was referring to the decision between saving as many people as possible, risking the doom of more vs. cutting losses and ensuring the few survivors would be saved. This is the only moral question I could find in the film, which is more than adequate considering. I must say, if you have a creative mind, it does get you thinking.

Problems were mostly with the scientific explanation of Armageddon. I felt getting into too many details was a bad call. Really, it’s not necessary. Also, the audience this movie is directed toward most likely doesn’t care enough. Most importantly, it undermines the willing suspension of disbelief. The more vague, the less questions the film has to avoid attempting to answer. Savvy?

I felt the beginning was really at the news report on the mass suicide. It was in the trailer, and the only part of the advertisement that had me interested in the movie; “they warned us…” (referring to the Mayans predicting the end of the world).

Another problem came with the over-postured comic relieve. Most of the humor was alright, but several of the scenes were forced in their timing, making the rhythm stumble and the actors forced to deliver moments that were, well, forced. The music seemed to take over the telling of the story in moments when science and graphs fell into a lull, as if queuing the audience that it’s time to feel tension.

The graphics, as I’ve mentioned were impressive. I felt as if I were on the set on several of the scenes, but the collapse of  CA, (other than a phony Arnold impersonator) were really spectacular. There’s also the classic giant rolling donut scene, which had me smiling.

Sorry I couldn’t deliver on the goods with Oh My God! today folks, I will keep you posted on this review and my article, “Bad Medicine”.

updates

so, I am going to do my next review on “Oh My God” and will be posting early Friday morning instead of reviewing “Pirate Radio”. Also, still working on my post, “Bad Medicine”. For all two of you devoted fans out there: Sorry for delays!

coming friday: movie review of Pirate Radio

The Box movie review

I really liked the unsettling feeling that this movie left me with. In large part, this is the only success of the film aside from good work making everything feel 70’s. This movie had real potential to leave a sliver in your mind, and have you pondering the human condition. As the husband puts it: “Can we live with this?” (Meaning, can we live with the knowledge that somebody has died because we wanted  to push the button for $1 million) -an interesting moral standard I felt should have been the vehicle. Unfortunately, the audience is asked to switch vehicles intermittently. The plot never really cemented into anything near solid enough to wrap your mind around, so that said sliver could be inserted. In what may have been an effort to maintain a fluid quality to lend the intrigue a sinister tinge, the driving force of the story turned into a tug-of-war between the outstanding moral question and the less important mystery behind the box.

First off, it didn’t begin with the beginning, and the tug of war was kicked off before the real drive was able to start. The problem was not the consequences that came with pushing the button! Why wouldn’t it be, you ask? …..Yes.

The protagonist’s problem was something very similar to what happens when a kidnapper’s hostage demands are not met. This is the only thing cement about the movie: the list of three simple rules that must be obeyed concerning the box, and the consequences of breaking those rules. The problems and questions proliferate when the rules are broken due to the threatening nature of the mystery shrouding the box. – The husband responds to what appears to be a threat against his family with a little detective work, a big no-no. This is where a big wedge is driven into the split plot. Now we never know the movie’s answer to the question: what can ‘average’ people tolerate in order to get what they want when the negative consequences are visited upon others? Instead, we’re taken on a downward-spiraling mystery to discover just who’s behind all this.

Which I felt was never the point. The acting wasn’t great, and the music was over the top at times when it shouldn’t have been. The times it worked, and something began to come together (although never fully realized), made for some very creepy scenes. The real beauty of these scenes was that they were all so… usual. Nothing was threatening because it was a monster, or a haunted mansion, or a demon possessed girl- it was something that could be all around you. This is what leads one to believe the story is indeed trying to be deeply unsettling. Due to its tug-of-war, it never got there.

(SPOILERS FROM HERE ON!)

The whole thing, as it turns out, is a social experiment. One being conducted by…. Drum roll please…. Aliens! Now, the social experiment part is where the story has real potential. It needn’t be an evil experiment. In fact, a neutral position is more interesting and unpredictable. The Box did that part right. (Making exception for the fact that the aliens were about to judge us humans) But then it strayed from itself when the rules were inevitably broken. Of course they were, the mysterious man went through all that trouble of spelling them out. So, we never know what would have happened to the nice, poor, young couple if they’d simply said nothing, pushed the button, and gone on with their rich, and possibly quilt-ridden lives. But no, we don’t explore the drive of the film, we explore who’s responsible instead: Aliens who delight in providing no answers and worse yet, no questions. These extra-terrestrial, other-worldly beings really need to find something better to do with their time. And then ditch the god complex, because they just ruined another movie.

What would have been great is if the couple had lived with NATURAL consequences, instead of forcing the aliens’ hands so that we could actually see what plays out in the human element. The only reason this experiment goes on its happy, murderous way is because the rules are broken. It has nothing to do with the button. “Shawn,” you say, “this may be the point.” But indeed, what point is that? They should’ve stuck with the social experiment/ moral question as their vehicle. In my humble opinion, they backed the wrong horsey. It could have stuck with government involvement in human behavior. That’s an interesting angle. The government agent or agents could’ve simply allowed 24 hours to pass and then proceed under the assumption that the button had been pushed. At the conclusion, the agent or agents could simply say, “So far, everyone has pushed the button.” Now that would make a statement.

Honestly, aliens? C’mon!

coming soon… (I’ve been away!) “Bad Medicine”

Vengeance vs. Heroism

Where the Wild Things Are, and a recent sermon got me thinking about the detriment of seeking self-satisfaction through revenge compelled by anger. Let me first be clear that I do believe in righteous anger. Anger against injustice of all kinds provokes us to stand up for the cause of those who cannot stand up for themselves, or stand behind the banner of something greater than ourselves because it is right. But when is anger righteous and when is it perverted into revenge?

Fiction is well-versed in revenge. For the past several years, comic book heroes have been shaking off dust to re-live their glory days on the big screen. Ironman, Spiderman, The X-men, Daredevil, The Hulk, Superman, Batman and many others take their stance against evil where the justice system has failed. Yes, some of these flicks are flops, but there are several gems- and more heroes to come- Green Lantern is set to arrive next year, and Captain America, for example. But these are larger-than-life characters. They have genetic mutation on their side, heightened senses, gizmos and gadgets, iron suits, iron claws, skin like steel. These fictional vigilantes are more iconic than many real heroes. There are many other stories about vigilante justice with characters that are much like you and me. The Brave One is such a story that stands out in my mind as having a protagonist as flesh-and-blood as anyone. And even when revenge isn’t the plot, it has some role in all kinds of movies, nearly all of them in fact. We all love heroes because they manifest what we hope for, but don’t believe we can obtain, until they enter the picture.

There are several categories of heroes: the reluctant hero (16 Blocks, Cop Land), who knows the existence of an evil and tries to disregard, or even appease it in the hopes that it will go away. The anti-hero (Unforgiven, Pirates of the Caribbean, and every film-noir I can think of), simply combats evil because it happens to be to their advantage at that particular time. The vengeful hero (The Brave One, Memento, Desperado, Kill Bill) suffers a horrible loss and deliberately punishes their own wrongdoers to seek personal justice. Then, there’s the true hero (most commonly depicted in comic books), who fights because there is a greater evil that needs to be overcome.

Keep in mind that whenever revenge is the subject of a movie, unless it is for the purpose of considering the morality of vengeance, (such as The Brave One) there is a character arc that changes the protagonist from one type of hero to another.

The obvious catalyst for any hero is hinged upon the failure of the justice system. This is also the hook, because it is so engaging. Everyone can relate to the longing for justice where the legal system has failed. But the lines are blurred in the difference between seeking revenge and pursuing truth. I suggest that the battle between the Joker and Batman has become so iconic because the characters have the purist motives. The Joker loves evil for its destructive nature; he does wrong because he can. Batman’s hatred of evil is fueled by its destruction of what he loves. This is our love with the vigilante hero’s story. This is where deception loves to crawl in.

Pride takes a seat in the place of truth when we cannot judge the hearts of mankind. Without knowing the condition of the heart, the only standard is what can be measured: evidence, witness testimony, etc. Who cannot relate to hatred of injustice? Who does not love to see justice finally prevail over wrongdoing? But there is always room for deception whenever God does not come first; because there is not one justice, so to speak. There remains the ability to adhere to one truth that does not change, but as long as a system of justice is built on man’s own view of right and wrong the standard will be ever-changing.  So when is pursuing justice pride and when is it the selfless pursuit of truth?

Most, if not all vigilante stories suggest the line is drawn with the wrong being done and the method in which the wrongdoers are dealt with. The problem is this is never as simple as it seems. God’s truth pierces to the heart, not only of the pertinent issue, but of the individual and of the nation.

Anger is the ultimate anti-hero. It is apparent that true heroes are most noted for their passion. Let’s take the ultimate, real-life example: Jesus Christ. Who had more passion for justice? Who fought more bravely against injustice? That God serves to glorify Himself is the very reason His justice is validated. There could not be any more personal compulsion, yet no higher calling. This is why His truth is the truth we must adhere to: it is the only unchanging standard, the only standard that will never allow us to trip over ourselves in the pursuit of justice.

Where The Wild Things Are (SPOILERS!!!)

Where The Wild Things Are

This is not a children’s movie. I was never expecting it to be for children, but rather about children. More precisely: a child’s mind, one depicted slightly differently from the book’s portrayal. First off, of course the film had to be a considerably more in-depth story than the book. The natural conclusion is that a theme had to be added or expanded upon. Which do you think is the case?

Where The Wild Things Are is my favorite, and most vividly-recollected children’s book. I re-read the book for the first time since I can remember, just before watching the movie. Upon immediate reflection, I found no meaning beyond a child who sought, and found escape in his imagination (a commonly-visited theme for children’s stories). It seemed to be this theme alone. But, the last page, the last line, was especially significant after a little more pondering. Max’s dinner was still warm when he “returned home”. I felt the book was emphasizing that Max had a home to return to, one that would always be, whenever he was ready to come back. This had me wondering: Is the fact that Max had a home to return to as important as his ability to go on an adventure?

Of course, I wondered how a movie would be feature-length based on a very short book. Beyond the obvious necessity of page limitation, there is another kind of simplicity I adore in the book: child-like wonder. The movie takes the adventure theme and expands its borders, and makes it into an escape. The adventure becomes a journey. Whenever a child runs away from home, he tells himself he’s never coming back, tells his parents he hates them. Then, after running away with these vows, feels alone and scared, or just hungry, and decides he’s better off back at home. It’s a natural, recurring, inward struggle children wrestle with. But Max’s fears are more profound. The movie explores deeper motives for the catalyst that sets Max on his journey.

The drive of this film, which does great work in its introduction of Max, and his world, stays close to the sequences of the book, with a few stand-out exceptions. First, Max is not sent to his room the night he takes the journey. Instead, he runs away. This was necessary to shift from an adventure to an escape. Max struggles to build “the perfect fort”, a world in which he has special powers to make sadness and loneliness go away, and is able to make everyone happy. Another difference is that Max is not found by the creatures. This is equally important. He spies them out and decides to become one of them. This, he attempts through destruction and mayhem, by joining Carol in tearing down the wild things’ houses. When this fails, and Max’s own life becomes in grave danger, he does what any child left without defense would do: he lies. Except in this world, Max’s lies work. He silences the wild things, “be still!” (Something he can’t seem to do himself, nor can Carol), and is made king.

As the story plays out, there are many striking similarities linking this world to Max’s real world. Not as much in physical symbols (from the string of yarn and the houses, to snow ball fights and dirt clod fights that end in disaster in both worlds), as there were in the characters and the wild things. Voices of adult reason expressed in anger, the creature that is ignored by everyone, the owls who offer advice in a language that is not understood by Max, and others. Most important of all, is Max’s relationship with Carol.

From the start, these two are peas in a pod. As the story progresses, however, the two naturally frustrate each other. It becomes apparent that Carol is a manifestation of Max in his own imaginary world. Looking at the movie through this lens, as I did, it’s clear that Max’s anger is directed inward, thus explaining his reaction to his mother’s question: “What’s wrong with you?” This would hurt any child, but it caused Max to seek escape. And he found it in a world he thought he could master. However, the child’s lies quickly catch up, and indeed endanger him. This is the sequence where it feels like Max’s reality is catching up to his imagination. Carol has put all his hope in Max, and his hope is about to be crushed.

It’s important to note the gift given to Max from his beloved father with the words: “To Max, owner of this world”. It’s common for children to feel responsible for a divorce or death of a parent. Max does feel something is wrong with him because he can’t comfort his sister, competes for his mother’s attention with her boyfriend, seeks help from his older sister’s friends but finds they don’t understand him. These events are manifested in Max’s own “perfect fort”. In fact, the fort is never completed. Max feels like a vampire with no teeth, rejected by other vampires when they realize he’s not a vampire anymore. (Max’s words) I would put it another way; Max feels like a wild thing without teeth or claws; he feels powerless and alone.

Disaster strikes when Carol discovers the truth about Max: he has no power. This is the disastrous truth Max had been trying to escape. The truth is Max can’t “make everyone okay”. But Max survives the acceptance of this truth, and when he decides to return home, KW brings us back to the book ending with “Don’t go, I love you so, I’ll eat you up!”- This time with a heart-felt meaning instead of fierceness portrayed in the drawings of the book.

At the conclusion, Max runs home to a tearful and relieved mother- and dinner. His mother falls asleep while watching Max gobble down dinner with cake and milk. It’s a touching scene. This brings us full circle. Max has accepted that he’s not a king, he’s just Max. He understands that he’s dearly loved as he watches his mother fall asleep watching him eat the dinner she made. Simple and beautiful, in the fashion the best stories are told.

This movie was everything I’d hoped it would be. Keener delivers a very touching performance. She only had a sum total of about three minutes on the screen but does a remarkable job. The kid? Well, he wasn’t acting, he really was where the wild things are. The visuals aren’t exactly art, but I don’t want them to be. Though they are quite stunning, in some instances. The cinematography, direction, does great work of placing you in the very wolf-costume of Max. The wild things? Very much alive, very much outside of the story, amazing work there. Max’s leaving the world is a truly somber, yet lifting moment. I counted two swear words (Hell and damn), and absolutely nothing else that you would find a reason for not taking children. But like I said, this isn’t targeted at children. The creatures themselves could entertain them for a while, but the book is for children and does a better job at telling them a story than the movie. I mean that as a compliment, because I loved this movie!

The answer to my question I was pondering after I read the book, before I saw the movie: Is the fact that Max had a home to return to as important as his ability to go on an adventure?

If Max had no home, there would be no adventure or escape, there would only be the fictional world. The reality of home is Max’s joy in his return.

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