The faith philosophy of a movie critic

“I am not a believer, not an atheist, not an agnostic. I am still awake at night, asking how? I am more content with the question than I would be with an answer.”

~ Roger Ebert

The famous movie critic, Roger Ebert, was buried yesterday and I found this quote in today’s Chicago Tribune story about the funeral. As a Chicagoan, news of his death and tributes to him have filled the pages of the newspaper for near a week. I’ve been fascinated with the many quotes attributed to him that go far beyond a critique of Hollywood and its product.

I evoked this very quote today during a discussion of faith, arguing those who question are indeed believers (the reverend who officiated at Ebert’s funeral said as much, too).

God did not create us to be dogs, happy but unthinking beasts who behave according to instinct and do not question their owner. Instead, He gave us intellect, and I believe He welcomes debate. Faith is as intangible as vapor, impossible to fingerprint.

Whether one believes in God or not, it is arrogant to assume we can know anything. Discovery leads only to more questions.

So to label oneself a questioner and to be content with questions instead of answers, as Ebert professed to be, seems wise and humble. It’s amusing to think a man who made a fortune on determining if a thing deserved a thumbs up or a thumbs down would philosophize about his uncertainty this way.

I am not comfortable in gray areas yet I know most of life cannot be neatly organized in containers of black and white.

Let there be gray.

‘Lincoln’ falls behind ‘The Ten Commandments,’ ‘Argo’

While everyone else last night was watching “The Ten Commandments” with Carleton Heston and Yul Brynner (a show with everything and Yul Brynner, which just makes me start humming “One Night in Bangkok” by Murray Head), I was watching “Lincoln” with Daniel Day-Lewis.

I was surprised to find I didn’t like it. I, the political science major who spends her free time reading biographies of people like Ben Franklin and, yes, Abraham Lincoln, didn’t like Steven Speilberg’s alleged masterpiece.

Well, it didn’t have Yul Brynner (thanks Murray Head). It did have Daniel Day-Lewis, who truly inhabits any character he plays. He was amazing. But the rest of the movie? Meh.

“Lincoln” was dark (literally — I mean, I know Lincoln worked by candlelight, but Spielberg’s cinematographer had to, too?) and extremely hard to follow. I felt like I should have reviewed a synopsis beforehand to remind me which states were in and out of the Union, how many representatives the United States had at the time, how many sons Lincoln had and who the heck Thaddeus Stevens was. I’m also wondering how today’s Republicans were once that Grand Old Party.

Am I making this movie sound like a substitute history teacher’s syllabus?

Yeah.

Make no mistake, I appreciate art that make me think a little more than “Jackass: The Movie” but the level of knowledge required to understand “Lincoln” was beyond me. I doubt the average American understands the nuances of 19th century amendment ratification.

And what about Mary Lincoln? Poor Sally Field. She had to play a most unlikable character since, well, Yul Brynner. If that’s how self-involved Lincoln’s wife was, the president’s death may not have been as untimely as I had been led to believe. She was hard to watch and wholly unpitiable.

Perhaps Ben Affleck’s “Argo” was too accessible, its villains too cartoonish and its story a little too slick, but I enjoyed it a great deal more than “Lincoln.” I’m glad the Academy did, too.

Happy birthday, Mr. Spock

COMPUTER
How do you feel?

COMPUTER
How do you feel?

COMPUTER
How do you feel?

SPOCK
I do not understand the question.

~from “Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home”

I wonder how many times Leonard Nimoy heard “Live long and prosper” today. It’s his birthday. He turned 82.

Being a fan of “Star Trek” (that’s Trekker to the rest of you), I am an admirer of the man who made pointy ears a serious costume. I’ve been impressed with how he molded his career in the years after his iconic role and the ways he used his fame as a foothold to bigger things (he’s a pretty good movie director, for example).

I’ve gotta believe, however, being so closely associated with a singular character must be difficult. He did, after all, write “I Am Not Spock” and then decades later, “I Am Spock” (see? an author, too!). He, above all, can’t escape his alter ego. “Not a day passes that I don’t hear that cool, rational voice commenting on some irrational aspect of the human condition,” he wrote.

In any case, here’s a fan wishing him on his birthday a portion of the joy he’s imparted through the years as an entertainer.

SAREK
Do you have any message for your mother?

SPOCK
Tell her … I feel fine.

Don’t drink the (bottled) water

One might assume water is the cheapest beverage one can drink.

But according to the documentary “Tapped,” one would be mistaken.

Bottled water may be cheap and low-calorie, but it carries high societal costs.

“Tapped” tackles how bottled water affects the communities where it’s gathered, the quality of the water itself, the safety of the plastic bottles and the effects of the aftermath of all those mostly unrecycled bottles.

If watching the film doesn’t stop you from cracking into another bottle of Aquafina or Dasani over lunch or after a workout, nothing will.

My Beloved ordered a faucet filter when we were only halfway through watching it. And the first half was the weaker part.

We use a reverse osmosis filter system at home, but we tend to guzzle an inordinate amount of bottled water when we’re on the road. Thus, the faucet filter.

We rented “Tapped” on the advice of my brother-in-law who also recommended a documentary about beer. One might think they’re not related, but one would be wrong again. Almost every civilization on the planet can attribute its success to the wide availability of beer, a safe thirst quencher.

Please pass the beer.

If you appreciate nonlinear storytelling and big words, this blog post is for you (and so is this movie)

Tonight, my Beloved and I watched “The Burning Plain,” a cleverly constructed drama from 2008 about a sommelier, a crop duster in Mexico and a woman having a steamy affair with a Latino.

[I just had to throw "sommelier" out there. One of the characters actually is a sommelier, but when I used that word to reconstruct the story for my Beloved, whose attention lapsed momentarily, he said, "What? What's a sommelier?" "You know, the woman at the restaurant in the beginning?" "You mean Charlize Theron?" "Yes, her. She's a sommelier." "Who uses the word 'sommelier' in everyday conversation?"]

[A sommelier is a wine expert in a restaurant.]

I’m as big a fan of nonlinear narrative as I am of big words, and “The Burning Plain” tells its story in a compelling nonlinear way.

At first, I was impressed with Kim Basinger, who I had assumed was a has-been, but she oozes sexuality and desperation so effectively, I both loved and pitied her.

About halfway through, I figured out what was going on, but by then I was caught up in the characters and wondering how the story would resolve. Brilliant storytelling.

["Memento," the story of a man with short-term memory loss told in reverse order, is another one of those movies that compels viewers to watch it a second time to put all the pieces together.]

Though I have no proof other than deja vu and coincidence, I believe linear time is a human construct. I’m not convinced everything actually happens in sequential, chronological order; I think we human beings with our puny understanding simply experience it that way. So to see a movie that plays with chronology and tells an interesting story fascinates me.

As the final credits rolled on “The Burning Plain,” I said the same phrase I uttered at the end of another nonlinear flick, “The Lake House,” a time-travel romance starring Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock: “I wish I could write a story like that!”

To which my Beloved, ever the optimistic cheerleader even as he scoffs at my vocabulary, replied: “Why don’t you?”

If I was really clever, I would have written this post in a nonlinear narrative fashion.

But I’m not that clever.

‘Guilt Trip’ features a nice little story but not blockbuster laughs

The trailer for “The Guilt Trip” makes the movie look like a laugh riot along the lines of “Meet the Fockers” but it’s more like “Sideways” in that there’s a certain tenderness to it.

My Beloved, my Adored stepson and I took in “The Guilt Trip,” and I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who enjoyed it. It’s not written for 18-year-olds or for guys.

If you can get past the bait-and-switch trailer, you’ll find a little mystery wrapped in a Oedipal story. No Greek tragedy.here, but you’ll find a Texan who likes woman who like steak (surprise!) and an organic cleaner good enough to drink.

Though I can’t recommend spending two hours of your holiday with this movie even though it stars Seth Rogan and Barbra Streisand, I appreciated the storytelling and the symbolism. Streisand’s character, who is somewhat obnoxious but ultimately lovable, collects frog knick-knacks. Frogs symbolize taking a leap, which she learns to do over the course of a road trip with her son, played by Rogan.

Perhaps the best laughs come during the credits. They’re worth staying for.

Another bonus: I saw the trailer for “StarTrek: Into Darkness.” Far a “Star Trek” fan? Worth the price of admission.

The meaning of ‘Life of Pi’

I picked up a copy of the book of “Life of Pi” in a bookstore in London’s Gatwick airport.

This bookstore was a little like Pi’s life raft in that is carried an abundance of tantalizing paperbacks made all the more valuable by the prospect of a tedious 6-hour trip over the Atlantic. By the time I encountered the bookstore, I’d spent a week doing business and was ready for a break from spreadsheets and to-do lists.

This bookstore often promoted a “buy 2, get one free” special, so even though I didn’t need them, I often walked out of there with three books.

When I encountered “Life of Pi,” probably in 2002, it would have been shortly after the book earned the Man Booker Prize for Fiction. I bought it based on the book jacket description alone: “Indian boy survives 227 days on life raft with a Bengal tiger.”

After seeing the movie “Life of Pi” tonight with my Beloved and my stepson in a life a decade away from my odyssey of international travel, I felt the same way I felt after finishing the book: Sad.

The story is fantastic, but the symbolism chokes me up. Without spoiling it too much for those of you who haven’t read the book, Pi’s second story is the true one. The story of the tiger helps him face the brutality of man, a viciousness present in his own soul.

Still, a story of fear, how it drives us and how it keeps us alive is told magnificently in Pi’s tale. The movie isn’t quite as deep and philosophical as the book (I recommend reading the book, too, before or after seeing the movie), but its special effects are truly amazing.

The new lesson I’m taking away from the movie is that how a story is told shapes the teller as much as it informs the listener.

Not the end of the world yet

Steve Carell’s “Seeking a Friend for the End of the World” is worth seeing if you have time before time ends. It’s a sweet love story set against impending doom and all the repercussions one might imagine in that scenario: gluttony, desperation, riots, lost hope, denial.

Carell’s character Dodge becomes caretaker for an abandoned dog named Sorry, and I am glad I have one of man’s best friends seeing me through life’s repercussions. She was better today, having the courage to take the steps. But my heart fell when she cried on the way up. Not quite better yet.

One day at a time.

Sounds like a challenge

Imagine losing your sense of smell.

Then you sense of taste disappears into the ether.

You sense, if that’s the word, what’s next, but you fear the silence and darkness.

That’s the plot of “Perfect Sense” starring Ewan McGregor and Eva Green.

I was astounded by the power of silence. After watching the movie, some of which is perfectly silent, my Beloved and I are toying with the concept of eliminated all sound for just one day.

No National Public Radio.

No TV.

No talking.

No calling the dog from the back yard, “Chloe, get in here! Right now!”

No phone calls (take that, telemarketers!).

No music.

How much would we miss the ability to communicate with sound?

I think, briefly, I couldn’t live without ambient sound, but of course, that’s hyperbole. If forced to, I probably could.

But taking a sound diet might make me appreciate the sounds I hear and take for granted every day.

Like the sound of my Beloved’s voice. Or his breathing. Or his heartbeat.

My little dog’s wheeze as she lies beside me.

The sound of children playing down the street and the click of my keyboard.

Tap, click, tap.

Shh.

 

When is a movie more than just a movie?

“Think you’re smart, huh? The guy that hired youze, he’ll just do the same to you. Oh, criminals in this town used to believe in things. Honor. Respect. Look at you! What do you believe in, huh? What do you believe in!?”

~ Gotham National Bank Manager
in “The Dark Knight”

I rewatched “Batman Begins” and “The Dark Knight” today in anticipation of seeing “Dark Knight Rises” at the theater tomorrow, and I can’t help but view the movies in a new light.

Both of Christopher Nolan’s first “Batman” movies are well-done Hollywood fare, and it’s difficult to see them now – after a madman orchestrated a massacre at the midnight premiere of the third in the “Batman” trilogy — as simply comic bookie or pop culture.

The media have tossed around a lot of comments and suppositions about belief since a deranged man killed six last week in a shooting at the Sikh temple outside Milwaukee. Discussions have revolved around what Sikhs believe, what white supremacists believe, what Americans believe about Muslims, what society believes about veterans.

I find it strange the media are spending so much time talking about belief now, given how this violence is connected to the location – a temple. Theoretically a place where people believe in something.

With the Milwaukee incident coming so close on the heels of the Aurora shooting, I’m left to wonder, isn’t a movie theater a place where people believe ardently in something, too?

The Aurora movie theater was filled with what can only be viewed as disciples – people who were willing to see a movie at midnight on a weeknight. Willing to bring their children. Willing to dress up in, at least, Batman logo-ed clothing if not apparel more theatrical.

I am too far removed from the investigation to know what role popular culture might have played in the shooter’s mindset, and I’m not sure it’s fair to apply religious terms to the actions of a mass murderer or the victims.

Seeing the first two movies again in light of the recent real-life violence reminds that the “Batman” movies aren’t simply about a comic book character, but about  fear and the nature of good and evil.

“What you really fear is inside yourself. You fear your own power. You fear your anger, the drive to do great or terrible things.”

~ Henri Ducard in “Batman Begins”