Brothers Johnson - Strawberry Letter #23 (1977)

One of the great songs from the soundtrack to the film Jackie Brown......I'm including the lyrics:

Hello my love, I heard a kiss from you

Red magic satin playing near, too

All through the morning rain I gaze, the sun doesn't shine

Rainbows and waterfalls run through my mind

In the garden, I see

West purple shower bells and tea

Orange birds and river cousins

Dressed in green

Pretty music, I hear

So happy and loud

Blue flowers echo

From a cherry cloud

Feel sunshine sparkle pink and blue

Playgrounds will laugh

If you try to ask

"Is it cool?"

If you arrive and don't see me

I'm going to be with my baby

I am free, flying in her arms

Over the sea

Stained window, yellow candy screen

See speakers of kite

With velvet roses diggin'

Freedom flight

A present from you

Strawberry letter 22

The music plays

I sit in for a few

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

A present from you

Strawberry letter 22

The music plays

I sit in for a few

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Shuggie Otis

Strawberry Letter 23 lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management, Warner Chappell Music, Inc

One of my favorite films and soundtracks--Jackie Brown

I watched the film Jackie Brown again last night. I don't know how many times I've seen it, but it's one of those films worth seeing again, just to appreciate the acting (all of the actors and actresses are superb in their roles) and to fill in the small plot gaps that one may have missed the previous times. It also has a great soundtrack; I love listening to the songs--many are from my growing-up and young adult years. If you want to just get away for a few hours and enjoy watching (and listening) to a film, I recommend Jackie Brown. It came out in 1997, but I don't remember seeing it for the first time then. I think I may have avoided it because Quentin Tarantino was the director, and his films are so eclectic and violent that I was unsure how this film would be. It is violent, but not any more so than many other films in this genre. I've seen worse violence, to put it that way. 

Pam Grier is stewardess Jackie Brown--cool, composed, smart and calculating. I can't see anyone else playing this role; she is just so good in it. Jackie Brown is no fool, and has no qualms about setting up illegal weapons dealer Ordell Robbie (played by Samuel L. Jackson) in order to get him out of the way and to keep his money while playing the FBI as well. After all, Ordell doesn't care whether she goes to prison for smuggling his money into the USA from Mexico, it's about survival of the fittest. Ordell is also smart, but not as smart as Jackie. Robert Forster is also so good as Max Cherry, the bail bondsman who falls in love with Jackie Brown at first sight and decides to help her. His basic decency prevents him from taking any of the money she will possibly end up stealing, except for the regular fee he charges all those who request his services. 

Quentin Tarantino apparently revived the careers of both Pam Grier and Robert Forster by choosing them to be in this film. He had good instincts in choosing them, because they are excellent actors and perfect for their roles. Samuel L. Jackson is also quite good, Robert De Niro, Michael Keaton, and Bridget Fonda likewise. A very good movie ensemble. 

As I mentioned, the soundtrack is also a big part of the movie, with the following songs:

• "Across 110th Street" by Bobby Womack and Peace 
• "Strawberry Letter 23" by The Brothers Johnson 
• "Who Is He (And What Is He to You)?" by Bill Withers 
• "Tennessee Stud" by Johnny Cash 
• "Natural High" by Bloodstone 
• "Long Time Woman" by Pam Grier 
• "(Holy Matrimony) Letter to the Firm" by Foxy Brown 
• "Street Life" performed by Randy Crawford 
• "Didn't I (Blow Your Mind This Time)" by The Delfonics 
• "Midnight Confessions" by The Grass Roots 
• "Inside My Love" by Minnie Riperton 
• "The Lions and the Cucumber" by The Vampire Sound Incorporation 
• "Monte Carlo Nights" by Elliot Easton's Tiki Gods 

My favorites are Across 110th Street, Strawberry Letter 23, Street Life, and Inside My Love. After I watched the film, I downloaded the soundtrack to the movie from iTunes. And that got me started on 1970s soul songs; I went searching for some of my favorites, and downloaded them too. Isaac Haye's Theme from Shaft, Betcha by Golly Wow by The Stylistics, Whatcha See is Whatcha Get by The Dramatics, Rock Your Baby by George McCrae, and Back Stabbers by The O'Jays. Listening to these songs is a total trip down memory lane, and a very pleasant one. 

Tenet, a movie I can't recommend

Tenet is the latest movie from Christopher Nolan, who wrote and directed it. It stars the talented John David Washington (Denzel's son), a charming Robert Pattinson, Kenneth Branagh in a brutal role, and Elizabeth Debicki in a strange role. Did I like the movie? No. I'm sure there were many people who did. But it's hard to believe this is the same Christopher Nolan who made the fantastic Interstellar. 

Tenet is billed as an action and sci-fi film, but in my opinion, it doesn't work well as either. Or rather, it should have been one or the other. As an action film, it's entertaining to watch--fast-paced and good action sequences. Like a modern Bond film. I'm willing to suspend my need for a totally logical plot if action movies are entertaining. But they have to make some sense. Tenet should have remained an action thriller without the added sci-fi element, because the idea of inverted time made no sense to me, was not well-explained, and simply served to muddle the plot. As Collider.com explains, "the basics of time inversion is that someone in the future invented some doodad that allows time to flow backwards. Therefore, certain elements are flowing backwards through time. Their trajectory has become inverted." Oh kay. My question is why? Why is this interesting? Toward the end of the film, when the blue and red groups of soldiers (regular time and inverted time soldiers) are advancing and retreating multiple times, it was enough to cause whiplash. It made me dizzy. I kept wondering when it was all going to end. I kept thinking--please stop. I kept wondering how many times we needed to see fire and smoke pulled back into windows and doors, like what happens in backdrafts. Except that this was to illustrate inverted time? How many times did we need to see that? One or two times was ok, more than that, no. I have no desire to sit through this film again trying to figure it all out. Once was enough. And that was NOT how I felt about Interstellar, which I've seen at least three times at this writing. It is not enough to throw the idea of inverted time out there for us as moviegoers to figure out. That's the moviemaker's job. Better luck next film, Mr. Nolan. 

Picnic at Hanging Rock--the movie and the series

Picnic at Hanging Rock--the movie--came out in 1975 and was lauded as a great film. Indeed, its director, Peter Weir, of The Last Wave fame, went on to make some hugely popular movies, among them Witness, Master and Commander, Green Card, and The Truman Show. The Last Wave, with Richard Chamberlain, is a masterpiece of a film about a lawyer defending several Aboriginal men accused of murder, who falls under the spell of the Aboriginal culture; he begins to have premonitions about a last wave, which may or may not be a huge tidal wave or a tsunami. The film was released in 1977, two years after Picnic at Hanging Rock, which I never saw until recently. I watched it after I had seen the BBC television series of the same name (now available on the streaming channel Cirkus here in Norway). Although most reviewers and viewers preferred the film, I preferred the television series. 

I have not read the novel by Joan Lindsay on which both the film and series are based, but I plan on doing so. That said, I found the series to be quite good, and I liked it better than the film version, probably because it was longer and viewers could get better insights into the characters and what made them tick. Additionally, I had read movie reviews that kept mentioning how eerie the film was; I thought the series was far more so. It really got under my skin. I do agree with the naysayers that the series could probably have been shortened to four episodes instead of six, but regardless, it held my interest throughout.

I liked that series viewers learned a lot about the main characters--where they came from, their backstories. The series got the chance to really flesh out the characters. They took liberties with the actual story, I am sure of that. But it worked. I liked the dreamy atmosphere that hovered between the natural and the supernatural, I liked the flirtation with subtle horror and madness. Was satanism or witchcraft involved in the disappearance at Hanging Rock of four women from a Victorian era girl's school? Were there evil spirits there, or spirits protecting the rock against trespassers? Was there a time warp into which they slipped, never to return? Why did watches stop in the vicinity of the rock? Were they murdered by local men in the area, or did they commit suicide? Their bodies were never found. One of the women does return, but unfortunately, she cannot remember anything that happened, and that by itself unnerves most of the townspeople as well as the school staff. A run of bad luck ensues, and the wealthy parents whose daughters go to the school begin to withdraw them, one by one, which leads to a crisis for (and eventual suicide of) the headmistress Mrs. Appleyard (played by an excellent Natalie Dormer). 

There are many theories as to what could have happened to the girls. The film and the series tantalize us with possible answers, but never really make clear what actually did happen to them. Apparently that was the ending in Lindsay's book as well, although she purportedly wrote a a rather bizarre ending that never made it into the published book. The ending of the film and series give viewers some ideas of what probably happened to the missing girls, but it remains up to the viewers to intuit how large a role the atmosphere at the rock and legends surrounding the rock played. The series moved slowly in terms of building up to the reality of the horror that occurred; a creeping sense of creepiness as it were. I do not agree with the critics of the series that the focus was not on the picnic. It was, in every episode: it is the backdrop in every episode. The fact that the girls went missing affected just about everyone at the school, and each episode revealed that in one way or another. Bad fortune found a number of them. The music was a good accompaniment to the goings-on--eerie at times, dreamy at other times. 

I suggest watching the 1975 film first, and then the television series. The acting in both is very good, but I prefer the acting and cinematography of the television series, as well as the ever-present intense atmosphere of foreboding in the series, even in daylight. I did not get that same feeling from the movie.  

The appeal of science fiction

I'm a diehard sci-fi (and sci-fi horror) fan--books, films, and series. I don't remember the first sci-fi book I read that got me hooked on the genre. Perhaps it was A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle when we were children. The Invisible Man by H.G. Wells was another book that fascinated us as children. My parents were good at introducing us to different literary genres. The Andromeda Strain was published in 1969 and I probably read it around 1970 or so. I also read C.S. Lewis' The Space Trilogy when I was a teenager, and This Perfect Day by Ira Levin. To enjoy sci-fi, one must be able to let go of one's own world and enter into new and unknown worlds created by the authors and accept that those worlds may be nothing like one's own. That was never a problem for me. The appeal of sci-fi is likely different for each person, but there are some common elements. Part of the appeal was likely escapist when I was younger; now the appeal is more a fascination with dystopian themes and with other worlds, unknown worlds, the universe, time travel, parallel worlds--in short, fascination with stepping outside of the natural laws and our world (outer and inner) in order to experience other worlds. Judging by the interest in sci-fi, I think we will always be fascinated by the possibility of doing just that. I think man has always looked up at the stars and wondered what was out there. Or looked around at ordinary life and happenings and asked--what if they were different or changed, or completely unlike what we could ever imagine? Man has always been both fascinated by and afraid of the unknown and of the dark. Monsters and aliens may live there, and they may not be friendly to mankind. Even so, I would love to be able to travel through time to other worlds if I could do so via a transporter or through a wormhole, just as long as I could return to the safety of my own world when I wanted. That's asking a lot, but in the sci-fi realm, anything is possible.  

Some of my favorite sci-fi authors and their books are as follows:

• Ray Bradbury--The Martian Chronicles, Fahrenheit 451
• Stanislaw Lem--Solaris
• Philip K. Dick--Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep
• Michael Crichton--The Andromeda Strain, The Terminal Man, Timeline
• Neil Gaiman--Coraline, The Ocean at the End of the Lane, The Graveyard Book
• John Wyndham--The Day of the Triffids
• C.S. Lewis--The Space Trilogy (Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra, That Hideous Strength)
• H.P. Lovecraft--The Best of H.P. Lovecraft (falls into the horror fiction genre, but many of his stories would qualify as sci-fi horror)
• Isaac Asimov--Fantastic Voyage, The End of Eternity
• David Lindsay--A Voyage to Arcturus 
• Aldous Huxley--Brave New World
• George Orwell--1984
• H.G. Wells--The War of the Worlds, The Invisible Man
• Ira Levin--This Perfect Day

Some of my favorite sci-fi films and series are:  

• Forbidden Planet
• The Blob
• 2001: A Space Odyssey
• Soylent Green
• Close Encounters of the Third Kind
• Star Wars
• The Man Who Fell to Earth
• Westworld
• Alien
• Invasion of the Body Snatchers
• Aliens
• Blade Runner
• Brazil
• Deep Impact
• Event Horizon
• Jurassic Park
• The Lost World: Jurassic Park
• Men in Black
• Alien3
• Alien Resurrection
• The Day After Tomorrow
• I Am Legend
• WALL-E
• Jurassic Park III
• 28 Days Later
• District 9
• Pitch Black
• Minority Report
• Solaris 
• Another Earth
• IO
• Extinction
• I Origins
• Prometheus
• Interstellar
• The Martian
• Oblivion
• Edge of Tomorrow
• Alien: Covenant
• Arrival
• Ex Machina
• A Quiet Place
• Blade Runner 2049
• Jurassic World
• Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom
• Raised By Wolves (HBO series)

Beautiful and touching film--My Octopus Teacher | Official Trailer | Netflix

Any words I could use to describe this documentary film about a filmmaker's daily interactions with an octopus would not do it justice. He says so himself that he fell in love with this amazing creature. It is an amazing film on all levels--emotional, psychological, technical and topical. It is a beautiful film, and all I will do in this post is recommend that you watch it. I will probably watch it many times; I want to commit each part to memory and cherish all of them.

Klaus--a new Christmas classic

The film Klaus just recently showed up as a new offering on Netflix, and I was immediately interested, as I am in most animated films for children (and adults). It's a Christmas film to boot, so I was completely hooked. I'd call it a new Christmas classic--a sweet and memorable film about how the phenomenon of sending letters to Santa Claus and children receiving presents got its start. The story is original and unafraid to depict different aspects of human behavior, including cynicism, negativity, meanness, kindness, generosity, and positivity. I won't describe the entire story or provide spoilers, but will say that it was absolutely worth seeing! You can read more about it at this link:

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt4729430/

IO--a love story between a young woman and the planet she calls home

I watched the sci-fi film IO on Netflix last night. It is the story of Earth's demise, through the eyes of a young woman, Sam, who has only known an Earth that is headed for destruction. She was born into a world that was dying--animals, birds, humans. Global warming led to changes in the earth's atmosphere that could not sustain life any longer. The only places where there still remained enough pockets of oxygen were in mountainous areas, and that is where her scientist father moved her and her mother. He wanted to find a way to save the Earth; most other surviving humans have made the long trek to Io, one of Jupiter's moons, which apparently can support life. Sam is one of the few remaining humans on Earth, and she spends her days carrying on her father's work, looking for evidence of life/new life down in the Zone (the city), which is completely barren and devoid of all life. She drives an ATV and always has a supply of oxygen with her. On the top of the mountain where she lives, she tends to living plants that she has managed to grow in a greenhouse, a surprising development. She also has a huge telescope so that she can look at the night sky and at Io, where her engineer boyfriend Elon lives. They carry on a long-distance relationship characterized mostly by loneliness. And then one day Micah comes into her life, arriving in a hot-air balloon. He has come to visit her father after his wife died; both of them listened to her father's advice to stay on Earth rather than leave for Io, while he researched ways of making humans and animals able to adapt to the new atmosphere. That decision proved fatal for his wife. Sam tells him that her father has taken a trip to another part of the mountains on a research mission and that he is due home in a few days. Micah accepts this at first, but after several days, he begins to understand that things are not what they seem. He finds out that Sam's father is dead, as is her mother, and that she is living there alone. He decides to take her with him in the balloon to the site of the last shuttle launch that is leaving for Io. He doesn't want to leave her on Earth alone. Sam seems determined to join him, especially after they both become romantically involved, and after she finds out that Elon is leaving on a ten-year mission to Proxima Centauri. She understands that she and Elon will never be together, and that pushes her toward Micah. But things are not what they seem.

I won't give away the ending to the film, but I found it to be moving. It touched me that a young woman who had never known an Earth that was healthy, was so determined to restore it to its previous beauty, to help it to survive. It touched me that she did not want to give up on this planet, that she believed (foolishly perhaps) that it could be saved. The ending is ambiguous; one is unsure if it is a dream or reality. I chose to believe that it was reality.

The film has gotten mostly negative reviews in the media, on Imdb and elsewhere. I will admit that it might have benefited from tighter editing as it dragged in some places. And the science part of it was full of holes and mistakes. But I was drawn in by the story, and that is what makes a film work for me. If it touches my heart, then it works for me. It was not a sappy film, nor was it an upbeat one. It was simply a film that describes our perhaps not-so-distant future. Make of that what you will. If global warming brings about an end to our way of life on this planet, there will be people who will want to stay on Earth to try to save it, and those who will leave it behind. It is not always so easy to know what one would do and that is what the film tries to portray. I think it managed to do that despite its flaws. If you are looking for Alien, I am Legend, or Interstellar, this is not any of those films (it couldn't be anyway because it is very low-budget). Monsters are not waiting in the dark places to attack, and there is no impressive interplanetary space travel or talk of tesseracts. However, like Interstellar, it touched me because at heart, it is really a love story. In Io's case, it is a love story between a young woman and the planet she calls home.

A Star is Born--2018

Bradley Cooper's A Star is Born is a beautiful movie. I saw it this past Thursday evening, and it has stayed with me since then. Besides being a beautiful movie, it is a moving one--a love story that reaches in, grabs your heart, and doesn't let go. I haven't felt this way about a film since Brokeback Mountain from 2005. A Star is Born has gotten excellent reviews all the way around, and that is not surprising. I was thinking about why the film works so well; after all, this is the fourth remake of the original film from 1937. I haven't seen the original film or the other remakes, but I feel sure that this film, apart from the original, is the best. I think it comes down to the two leads, Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga. Both play vulnerable characters who open up to each other and who fall in love. Both are singers, one on the way up (Ally, played by Lady Gaga) and one on the way down (Jackson Maine, played by Bradley Cooper). Jackson Maine is struggling with alcoholism and drug addiction; his career as a country singer has peaked and he knows it. When he begins to sing together with Ally after 'discovering' her in a drag bar where she performs at times, he understands that she is what he needs, both professionally and personally. But other people recognize her talent and do not want him and his addictions to stand in her way, with a tragic outcome. It's a story that's been told many times in many different ways, but this one works. It's been brought up-to-date, with Ally being able to move between a number of different song genres, from country music to pop.

In my opinion the film works because the chemistry between Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga is real, raw, palpable. You feel it every time they look at each other, hug each other, or touch each other. You feel that they care for each other, and you feel for them when their relationship falls on hard times. Their chemistry has been commented upon by many movie reviewers and the stars themselves. The movie is filmed in an intimate manner, with close-ups of their faces and expressions, which creates the effect that we are right there with them. There is a vulnerability and an ease between them that works; there is nothing slick or superficial about their relationship. I found myself thinking that this is the way many romantic relationships start, with that vulnerability and ease. They are beautiful things if you are lucky enough in your life to experience them; they are what we are always seeking a return to, and if we are lucky enough, we find them again and fall in love with our partner all over again.

But it occurred to me as well that both Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga experienced that vulnerability in their real lives when making this film, not just in their characters' lives onscreen. Cooper is an actor, not a singer (or director--this is his first time as director), and Lady Gaga is a singer, not an actor; yet both of them moved out of their 'safe' zones to try something new, with amazing results. Cooper can sing, and Lady Gaga can act. Additionally, Lady Gaga knows what it takes to reach the top, and I feel sure that she drew on those experiences and used them in creating Ally. The performances of the other actors in this film are also worth lauding--Sam Elliot as Jackson's brother Bobby, and Andrew Dice Clay as Lorenzo Campana, Ally's father.

Cooper and Lady Gaga supported each other and brought out the best in each other, and created a film that will last, that will still move you half a century from now. That is an amazing feat and one to be proud of--to know as the director, and as actors, that you have created a film that is already assured a place in posterity.

My Saturday night movie watching--Two Weeks Notice and Basic Instinct

Saturday evenings are often good opportunities to catch up on movies I've missed or ones that I want to see again (infrequent occurrences but they do happen). Last night was one of those evenings. I watched Two Weeks Notice (2002) with Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant for the first time (I don't know how I missed it when it first came out), and after that I watched Basic Instinct (1992) with Sharon Stone and Michael Douglas for the second time. While both movies belong to different genres--romantic comedy and noir erotic thriller, respectively, and both are very good, the portrayal of women in each film is quite different. Sandra Bullock's character is far more realistic and nuanced than Sharon Stone's character, oddly enough for a romantic comedy, and far less cool. In Basic Instinct, Catherine Tramell (Sharon Stone's character) is a writer of murder/crime books, with firsthand knowledge of murder. She is a psychopath and pathological liar, brilliant yes, but completely without morals. I can understand an actress wanting to play that role, but the character remains unexplored--a superficial view of a murderess who surrounds herself with other female murderesses. In 1992 when the movie was made, this was probably heavy stuff--a female murderess, extreme behavior, graphic sex scenes, bisexuality, cocaine use, reckless driving--all thrown in the mix. God knows we have had a plethora of murder/slasher films (too many of them) where the psychopath is always a man with a penchant for raping and torturing/murdering women. So now we had a female psychopath. But Basic Instinct makes the female psychopath cool. When I first saw the film in 1993, that thought didn't dominate my impression of the movie. It did last night, and now that I'm older, I waver more about the implications of making a psychopath (male or female) cool. Because psychopaths are not cool--that's an unrealistic presentation of them. They're frustrating and annoying to be around and to deal with. They make you feel uncomfortable in their presence, like you are pinned to a dissecting board, waiting for the worst. There is a certain 'creep' factor associated with them, as in--they are creeps and they make your skin crawl. They are often intelligent, charming, attractive, unattainable to most, narcissistic, amoral, pathological liars interested in playing games with people. They are ultimately destructive individuals and that is their aim. But they are not cool, rather anything but. I have met men (and perhaps one woman) with psychopathic tendencies (intelligent and amoral pathological liars) but they were neither interesting nor attractive people, and after a short time, their superficiality was a turnoff. After a few encounters, you avoid them at all costs. For most men, I would guess that a female psychopath would be the same after a while, after the initial attraction wore off. Few people talk about their experiences with a psychopath, unsurprisingly, since most of those interactions don't go well for the non-psychopath. Most psychopaths are probably not killers, but a number of them can be violent if it serves their purposes. So why does Michael Douglas' 'prone-to-violence' character Nick Curran risk his life by getting involved with Catherine Tramell? Because he has an addictive personality--he's obsessed with her. The film's atmosphere has been compared to that found in some Hitchcock films. I was rather reminded of both Brian De Palma's Dressed to Kill (1980), with Michael Caine, Angie Dickinson, and Nancy Allen, (a lurid film if ever there was one), and of Harold Becker's Sea of Love (1989) with Al Pacino and Ellen Barkin. Sea of Love is a much better (but underrated) film than either Dressed to Kill or Basic Instinct, mostly because it had a logical plot, gritty NYC atmosphere, and characters you actually cared about. If you're looking for an erotic murder/crime film that makes sense, where policemen behave rationally (or at least try to), this is the film for you. Basic Instinct is not (in my opinion); it is rather a superficial illogical thriller with a lot of sex and violence thrown in. Guaranteed to earn tons of money at the box office, which it did, thanks to the presence of actors like Michael Douglas and Sharon Stone and some soft-core sex scenes. At this point in my life, I'd simply say--sex sells--the sex scenes are what made this film so popular. None of the characters even remotely interested me, in terms of the types of people I'd like to get to know in real life. But it's a wild ride toward what for me was the obvious conclusion, so in that sense it was enjoyable.

So that is why Two Weeks Notice won out over Basic Instinct for me last night. Because despite the fact that I had few expectations of a romantic comedy being well-written (intelligently-written), non-superficial, and with interesting and witty characters, I was pleasantly surprised. Sandra Bullock's character Lucy Kelson in Two Weeks Notice was intelligent, witty, engaged and attractive. I would want to get to know her. She wanted to make something of her life; she stood for something. Working as a pro bono lawyer when we first meet her, we understand that she has inherited her parents' commitment to working for justice and good (often underdog) causes. So when she meets charming, handsome, and superficial millionaire George Wade (played by Hugh Grant) who mostly cares about what suits/ties to wear and the next woman he will bed, sparks fly and we know how it is going to end since it's a romantic comedy. They're diametrical opposites who are attracted to each other, who like each other and who are willing to change a bit for the other, albeit not immediately and not without major resistance. It surprised me, considering the awful romantic comedies I've seen lately (you can ask me for a list--many of them with Jason Bateman and/or Jennifer Aniston), that this one was so good and so well-written, with characters I could root for. It was actually a lot of fun joining them on their journey toward maturity, watching them admit that they were human and could change. Of course I know that the basic plot was inherently unrealistic; how often are pro bono lawyers offered a 250,000 dollar a year job at a major corporation, how often does said lawyer end up in almost daily communication with her boss, etc. But I can suspend my requirement for logic and my skepticism and just accept the (often far-fetched) premise when we're dealing with romantic comedies. That is not the case with crime thrillers and series; I expect a certain amount of logical thought and reasonable responses to certain events. When I don't get that, I get disappointed, and that happens with a lot of crime movies/series these days.

Day 6 Favorite novel FB challenge

Stanislaw Lem's book Solaris blew me away when I first read it. I remember thinking that the author could not have been of this world. He managed something so few other sci-fi writers manage; to write about another world as though he had been there to witness and experience it. It gives you a strange feeling when you read it; you understand in some uncanny way that the author had first-hand knowledge of this other planet. But how could he have? The story gets under your skin and doesn't leave you. I recommend the book, and also the 2002 film Solaris, directed by Steven Soderbergh, and starring George Clooney and Natascha McElhone. Like the book, the film also got under my skin. I've read the book twice and seen the film several times.

Movie recommendation: Minuscule: Valley of the Lost Ants

I watched this film tonight and was absolutely captivated by it. The animation is wonderful, the story likewise. I haven't enjoyed an animated film this much since I first saw Fantasia. There is something about the feel of the movie--it's thoroughly original, sweet, and engaging. This is a film for all age groups, because the message is timeless. You'll be rooting for the head black ant and the ladybug. Here is the official trailer; check it out. And if you get a chance to see the entire movie, do so.

Some recommendations: a book--The Journal Keeper: A Memoir; a TV series--The Sinner; and a film--Thelma

Winter is a season that keeps me indoors a lot of the time. I miss my garden and being outdoors, so it ends up being a good opportunity to catch up on my reading, movie watching, and TV watching. The latter two have tended to merge into each other since the movie theaters here have reduced their offerings considerably. Going to the movies is not what it once was, sadly. I keep hoping that movie theaters will not disappear altogether, but you never know given the ease of streaming films on nearly any device you wish to use.

I am reading Phyllis Theroux’s The Journal Keeper: A Memoir at present; I am only a fourth of the way through it, but can wholeheartedly recommend it. This memoir is a collection of her reflections on: her life as a writer, writing, the joys and difficulties of being a writer, finances, life, love, friendship, and her mistakes, strengths, dreams and desires. They are all things to which I can relate. She lived with (and took care of) her nearly-blind mother until she passed away, so she understands the passage of time and the importance of living now and doing what it is we must do. She understands the idea of trying to be the best version of herself. She is honest, unflinching and clear about her progress, successes and failures, about her relationships with her mother, children, neighbors and friends. It is rare that I come across a voice that resonates with me, or better-put, resonates with that part of me that is facing many of the same challenges. I look forward to picking up her book again in the evening before I sleep; I look forward to hearing what she has to say. She could be a friend; she is at the very least someone I would truly enjoy getting to know.

I have also discovered The Sinner, a 2017 TV series starring Jessica Biel. She plays a young married woman with a child, and her life seems to be ordinary and reasonably happy. She and her husband seem to have a good relationship. They both work together at the same company run by her husband’s father. And then one day when she and her family are relaxing on the beach at a nearby lake, she suddenly and inexplicably stands up, knife in hand, and proceeds to stab to death the young man sitting at a distance in front of her. And then the story really begins, because we know she has murdered him. The question is why. And that why is a journey into her psyche, her family life before she married, her relationship with her terminally-ill sister, and her relationship with her parents (especially an over-religious mother). The policeman assigned to her case tries to dig into her past in an effort to find answers as to why she would murder someone for apparently no reason. We know of course that he will find out many things, and many of them are not pleasant. I’ll leave it at that, but suffice it to say that Jessica Biel owns the role of The Sinner—a woman whose present life is suddenly and without warning, ripped unmercifully apart by her past. It’s a gripping crime drama, but not one for those under sixteen, due to the often lurid subject matter and the sexual situations.  

And in the same vein (repressed young woman whose life takes a bizarre turn), we have Thelma, a 2017 film by the Norwegian director Joachim Trier. After seeing this film, I ask--what scares you? As a former horror movie aficionado, I find that as I get older, it’s not the blood and guts horror films that really scare me. The films that have the greatest impact on me, the ones that linger in my mind long after they’re over, the ones that scare me when I think back on them--are the films that create the suggestion of terror, of horror, of the supernatural. They’re the films that have an ominous cloud hanging over them, a cloud that creates paranoia and murkiness. They’re the films where nearly everything that happens has some sort of darker meaning. In Thelma, crows have a special meaning. Panic attacks similar to epileptic seizures have a special meaning. Thelma’s father and mother understand this. Is Thelma a witch? Has she inherited her grandmother's psychological disorder involving the ability to use psychokinesis to change situations that upset or anger her (think of the main protagonist in the 1976 film Carrie). Or is she just a disturbed young woman whose meeting with first love just happens to be a lesbian relationship, which throws her psyche into direct conflict with her repressive religious upbringing that both her parents have foisted upon her. What horrific secrets lie in her past to explain her present life? There are secrets, and there are unpleasant revelations that can only lead to one outcome—again, that the past rears its ugly head to upset the present, because the past cannot be repressed forever. Repressed feelings, if they cannot be normally expressed, find their way out in other ways. What will it take to free Thelma from her past? And what happens if she is freed from it? Eventually, she finds out, and the outcome is disturbing. Thelma is worth seeing; it’s a hard-to-define movie. Is it a psychological thriller or is it a horror film? I'd say it's both. It gives viewers chills down the spine, a sense of foreboding, an uncomfortable feeling, and a feeling of dread concerning (knowing) what comes next. Both Thelma and The Sinner excel in this regard.  

   

The old films and strong roles for women

I continue to buy the classic old films of my parents’ generation, i.e., films from the 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s. I am enjoying watching them, and I must say that the roles written for women in the 1940s and 1950s often had real substance. These roles showed women as owners of companies, business leaders and managers—in other words—career women—in short, that they could be married and have children, and be career women at the same time. They could also play hussies, whores, mean-spirited women, ruthless business women, but they did not have to take off their clothes to prove anything to anyone. Barbara Stanwyck, Joan Crawford, Bette Davis, Gene Tierney; Katherine Hepburn; these women were not taking off their clothes for the movies in which they starred. The explanation is likely that the Motion Picture Production Code at that time in society prohibited nudity, rape, gory violence, erotic sex scenes, etc. This Code was the set of industry moral guidelines that was applied to most United States motion pictures released by major studios from 1930 to 1968. Prior to that time, there were a fair amount of films made that tested the limits of decency. The Production Code, which was minimally enforced during the 1960s, was replaced by the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) film rating system in 1968. I started to go to the movies in the 1970s when I was a teenager, and as I have written about before, there was not all that much censorship of nudity and violence in the films we could see at that time. Pretty much anything ‘went’. I remember the first time I saw nudity onscreen; it was in Alfred Hitchcock’s Frenzy (1972). I was sixteen at the time, old enough to get into the film without parental guidance. It was a bit shocking as I remember, and even years later, I find the film quite lurid. It is not one of the Hitchcock films that comes to mind when I think of the repertoire of excellent films that have made him famous.

But back to the films of the 1940s and 1950s; I have to say I find them refreshing for their lack of nudity and lack of graphic violence. The subject matter could be quite grim—murder, betrayal, illicit love affairs, psychopathy, mental illness, terminal illness, etc.—but it all seemed more stylized, not down and dirty. It may be that this is a false representation of such subject matter, but in some senses I prefer it because it allowed for more concentration on character development and the psychological aspects of the characters involved. I think of films like Dark Victory (1939), Now, Voyager (1942), Mr. Skeffington (1944), Laura (1944), Mildred Pierce (1945), Leave Her to Heaven (1945), The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946), Adam’s Rib (1949), The Night of the Hunter (1955), and Lust for Life (1956), to name a few. Some of these are noir films, i.e., ‘stylish Hollywood crime dramas’, especially those that ‘emphasize cynical attitudes and sexual motivations’ (from Wikipedia). I prefer these kinds of films to the tawdry and explicit ones that came later. I guess I realize as I get older that I don’t want to see murder in all its gory details; it’s enough to see that someone shoots another person without all the blood and gore. Nowadays, there can be twenty shootings in a criminal drama and at some point you become inured to the blood and gore, which is not a good thing. I can recommend the above-mentioned films as excellent examples of film-making and cinematography. Many are also wonderful examples of films with strong solid roles for women, e.g. Mr. Skeffington (Bette Davis), Laura (Gene Tierney), Mildred Pierce (Joan Crawford), Leave Her to Heaven (Gene Tierney), The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (Barbara Stanwyck), and Adam’s Rib (Katherine Hepburn). I’ve yet to see some of Barbara Stanwyck’s other films; the same is true for Katherine Hepburn and Joan Crawford. I’m looking forward to doing so.

Falling in love with the old films

I remember my mother talking about the film Laura (from 1944) with Gene Tierney when I was a child. It was one of her favorite films as I recall. I believe I saw the film when I was a teenager, but I don’t remember the impression it made on me. My mother also talked about the films From Here to Eternity (1953) and The Children’s Hour (1961), both of which were off limits to us as children due to their adult themes. I have not seen either of them, but recently ordered them both films from Amazon UK. They will join the ever-growing DVD collection I have of old films; by old, I mean from the 1940s, 50s and 60s, when I was a child. Once the 1970s came, I was often at the movies because by then I was a teenager. Going to the movies was something we did a lot of then.

Many of the old films starred actors and actresses such as Rex Harrison, Gene Tierney, James Stewart, Kim Novak, John Wayne, Ingrid Bergman, Cary Grant, Clark Gable, William Holden, Gregory Peck, Spencer Tracy, Katherine Hepburn, Lauren Bacall, and Humphrey Bogart. There are of course many others that I have not listed here.

I recently purchased the film Bell, Book & Candle (from 1958) with Kim Novak and James Stewart, and enjoyed it a lot. Kim Novak is Gil, a witch who places a spell on her neighbor Shep (James Stewart) to make him fall in love with her as a way of getting revenge on a disagreeable woman she went to college with who is now engaged to Shep. I recommend it as a very enjoyable way to spend a couple of hours. And last night I watched The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (from 1947) with Gene Tierney and Rex Harrison. It was a wonderful film that could only have one ending, but even though I knew what was coming, I was unprepared for the effect it had on me. It is a sad but lovely ending to a love story between the deceased sea captain Daniel Gregg who haunts the house he lived in and the woman Lucy Muir who ends up living there with her young daughter Anna and their housemaid Martha. The last scene made me cry, and it is rare these days that a film has that effect on me. It is a testament to the wonderful acting but also to the emotional impact of the story of the love between the captain and Lucy throughout most of her adult life—a love that could never be realized in life. So that is what makes the ending that much more poignant.

I look forward to seeing The Children’s Hour and From Here to Eternity. Many of the old films used to show up on TCM, but for some reason this channel changed its format and stopped showing the old films, focusing rather on showing films from the 1980s and later, most of them rather obscure Asian gangster films. It then went off the air here in Scandinavia, most likely because it lost its appeal to viewers like me who preferred the old films. I wish it had kept the original format, because it is the old films that I want to see now, the films that are a part of the golden age of Hollywood, an age that is long over and not likely to return.

Riding with the raptors

There’s a lot to love about the new dinosaur film Jurassic World. Mostly, it doesn’t pretend to be anything more than what it is—a fun and fast-paced action film about a dinosaur theme park that bites off more than it can chew when it creates a new and better dinosaur, Indominus rex, to attract larger audiences. The new dinosaur has four different kinds of DNA in its genome, all of which have produced a cunning killer that appears to be unstoppable. Part of the fun is finding out what kind of DNA the scientists have used to create this monster. And as always in these kinds of films, scientists come off as the bad guys who can be bought, either by the paranoid military or by greedy companies or both. When you go to see these kinds of films, you know that within about thirty minutes after the start, it’s all going to go to hell, the dinosaurs are going to start eating people, and panic will ensue. And it does. Jurassic World is a dinosaur disaster film with a hero who gets to do the coolest thing I’ve seen on film so far—ride his motorcycle in the midst of the velociraptors that he’s been trying to train (with very limited success since they are cunning killers themselves). Their help is enlisted when it becomes clear that the velociraptors are perhaps the only creatures that can bring down Indominus Rex. But there is a neat twist here once the raptors meet Indominus, and I won’t give it away. The film is worth seeing, the special effects are very good, the plot is fairly predictable, the acting a bit stiff, but overall it’s a fun 3D ride. We all know that what is said is not nearly as important as what is done in these kinds of films. Action is what counts; in that regard, Chris Pratt will be a good addition to the genre for the future films. When I saw the first Jurassic Park film, and Sam Neill and the children stood watching the dinosaurs from a distance, I remember commenting to my husband that it would be so cool if humans could actually travel in the midst of the different kinds of dinosaurs, at their level if you will. In Jurassic World, they can and they do, with the help of the Gyrosphere, a computer-controlled sphere-shaped ride that has room for two people to sit in it, and that moves along the ground so that the park visitors can get a real feel for the dinosaurs. I’m looking forward to the subsequent films, although I cannot for the life of me figure out what ground the filmmakers are going to cover next. But I’m sure it will be one heck of a ride.  

The power of Interstellar

I have seen the movie Interstellar twice at this writing, and plan to see it several more times and to own a copy of it. It is one of the best movies I have ever seen in my opinion, and has already become one of my all-time favorites. From a critical standpoint, the inevitable comparison to 2001: A Space Odyssey is understandable, since 2001 was a groundbreaking (and now classic) space film, but Interstellar can stand on its own as a masterpiece of groundbreaking filmmaking. I ‘judge’ films often on the effects they have on me. Do I think about them and the messages they impart after I’ve been to see them? Are they in any way life-changing? Do they challenge my assumptions and beliefs? The answer is yes to all these questions where Interstellar is concerned.

As most of you who read this blog know, I am a science fiction fan and have been for a long time. I saw 2001 for the first time when I was twelve years old. Even though I understood little of what it really was about, I understood intuitively that it was destined for greatness, because of its subject matter but also because it was an incredibly well-made film. Even when I watch it now, I feel the same way. It inspires awe. Interstellar does the same. It deals with space travel, black holes, singularities, event horizons, wormholes, tesseracts, gravity, the theory of relativity, and time in relation to gravity. For example, the astronauts in the film age much slower compared to those they leave behind on earth; this is explained well in the film even though it is difficult to understand conceptually. Much of the physics/astrophysics/quantum physics underlying the film are real, not fantasy. Christopher Nolan, the director, worked together with Kip S. Thorne, Caltech professor emeritus of theoretical physics, who is executive producer of Interstellar and who subsequently wrote a book called The Science of Interstellar, which I am reading now. It is a fascinating book that discusses the proven science versus scientific speculation in the film. It’s a good companion piece for the film once you’ve seen it. Interestingly, my husband, who majored in physics/biophysics and who subsequently moved into the field of cell biology, recently showed me a college textbook called Gravitation co-authored by Kip Thorne together with Charles W. Misner and John Archibald Wheeler. He had read it and meant that if I really want to attempt to even begin to understand the problem of gravity, I should attempt to read it. But I know I won’t, because the mathematics will just blow me away. I hit the wall in my first year of college when we got to complicated derivations in calculus. Up until that point though, I understood and even enjoyed studying most of the math taught to us.

In contrast to 2001, Interstellar is a warm film, despite its ‘cold’ subject matter. It is not afraid to tackle the difficulties and complexities of human relationships. 2001 was an extraordinarily stylish and elegant film, but it lacked depictions of real and warm human relationships. Cooper’s warm relationship with his scientifically-inclined young daughter Murph in Interstellar is well-portrayed and real. The strong bond between them was palpable; it was heartbreaking to watch him leave her behind on earth, knowing he probably would not see her again in their lifetimes. Matthew McConaughey did a terrific job as Cooper, the loving father who leaves ten-year old Murph (played beautifully by Mackenzie Foy) behind to go into deep space in search of a new world for the remaining earth inhabitants to move to. Even the relationships between the astronauts and the computers TARS and CASE were ‘warm’; these computers did not turn on the humans as HAL did in 2001, rather the opposite—they tried to save them in several instances. I won’t give away the story of Interstellar for those of you who haven’t seen it, but I will say that it is an incredibly warm and moving movie, one that is not afraid to deal with human emotions, complex science, metaphysical issues, and space exploration in one movie. Of course there are some flaws in such an ambitious venture, how could there not be? Some parts drag on a bit too long, others are too short, but I left the theater knowing I had seen a film that was life-changing. Why? Because it brought up issues and feelings for me that I have been thinking about and experiencing ever since my parents passed away. What is our place in the universe? Why are we here? What is beyond death? Can love transcend space and time (and death)? Is love a real force to be reckoned with? Can it be characterized scientifically? Is there life elsewhere—is it possible that the earth is not alone in its ability to sustain life? It wouldn’t bother me to find out that there are worlds similar to ours in other galaxies that can sustain life. It is comforting to know that. It makes space seem less alone and empty. Ultimately, it is the power of love and our hope in the future that keeps mankind going, regardless of where we find ourselves. Finally, Hans Zimmer’s score is perfect for the movie—moving, intense, mind-expanding and uplifting. I am still thinking about the movie many days after I saw it for the second time; that is the effect it has had on me. For those of you who have seen the movie and want some ‘answers’ to some of what was brought up in the film, I recommend IMDB’s FAQ page for the movie: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0816692/faq?ref_=tt_faq_sm –a very well-written page.

Bureaucracy and the film Brazil

I first saw the film Brazil in 1985 when it was released. It seems to have made a lasting impression on me, since I have remembered its basic message many years later. The message is that an out-of-control bureaucracy goes hand-in-hand with an Orwellian world, a dystopia, where the bureaucratic powers that be control the lives of society’s citizens. Parts of the film (a satire) are funny, but if you’ve lived a while and had anything at all to do with dysfunctional bureaucracies, you’ll understand that what you’re seeing on the screen is far from funny. A functionary named Sam Lowry, who is good at his low-level job but bored with his life, has recurrent dreams about rescuing a pretty blond girl and flying away with her to live a life of ‘happily ever after’. His mother, who is well-connected with all of the important bureaucrats, is trying to get him promoted, which he doesn’t want. She’s also trying to get him together with the daughter of a friend, something neither he nor the young woman wants. One of his assignments is to rectify a form error that resulted from a fly falling into a typewriter and causing the typewriter to type B instead of T when writing the name Tuttle, which has dire consequences for Archibald Buttle (a shoe cobbler with a family), not Archibald Tuttle (a terrorist and enemy of the state). This proves to be more difficult than he can imagine, and in this dystopian future, Archibald Buttle ends up dead. The bureaucracy that caused his death wants nothing more than to cover up this error and to forget it. Lowry ends up meeting Jill Layton, a neighbor of the Buttle family who reports this error (she is the woman from his dreams), and finds out that she is considered a terrorist because she insists on justice for Buttle’s family. When he decides to help her, he is also labeled a terrorist along with the woman he loves. Along the way, he ends up meeting terrorist Archibald Tuttle, a heating engineer who doesn’t play by the rules and who fixes Lowry’s heating system without the proper forms and authorized parts. This causes Lowry a number of problems with the bureaucracy that simply won’t accept that he has had unauthorized repair work done on his heating system, and his apartment is taken away from him. Those scenes are funny and sadly enough, true if you work in bureaucratic public sector workplaces and don’t play by their rules.

I’ve been thinking about this film lately, mostly because a large percentage of work time for many employees these days goes to appeasing the bureaucratic lions, tossing them bones and keeping them happy. It’s not an easy job, especially when the bureaucratic system is nothing but a dense jungle of incomprehensible rules and regulations that can choke the life out of most well-meaning employees. Case in point: you need an account number to order an instrument. You must talk to the accounting department that has its own rules and regulations concerning ordering and setting up an account number, but they haven’t talked to the order department that has its own rules and regulations concerning the same. Emails are sent back and forth, no one is on the same page, and weeks go by, even months. The accounting and ordering departments have the mistaken idea that all employees outside their departments actually understand accounting and ordering procedures and terminology. God help those employees if they make a mistake at any point along the way—if so, it’s ‘bless me father, for I have sinned’ against the great god of bureaucracy. If the system is insulted, it doesn’t take kindly to that. Atonement takes the form of listening to the functionaries’ lectures and demands of obedience to their rules, and generally being subservient to their wishes. I understand the need for bureaucracy in terms of keeping an organization ‘organized’ and running efficiently. I draw the line at having to toe their line, of having to jump when it tells you to jump. I draw the line when the system begins to feel like a totalitarian regime and when you actually become afraid to deal with it.   

The disappearance of Amy

I saw Gone Girl on Monday evening, and found it to be an absorbing thriller, one that is fast-paced and doesn't waste any time. The movie is much better than the book in my opinion. David Fincher, who directed The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, did a great job of directing Gone Girl—it’s a taut thriller with a lot of unsettling things to say about personal relationships and about society’s addictive and obsessive relationship with television and the media. Ben Affleck finally found a role that suits him in Nick Dunne. His Nick is an interesting combination of clueless, indifferent, superficial, and opportunistic. He doesn’t invest more of himself than is absolutely necessary in any aspect of his life. In other words, Nick is no real prize—when he’s unemployed, he’s perfectly content to let his wife’s money pay for the bar he owns in Missouri after they’ve moved back there from New York, in order to be near his mother who has terminal cancer. He teaches part-time at a local college and ends up having an affair with one of his students, but even that seems half-hearted. He has promised his lover that he is going to divorce his wife, but seems to be immobilized by inertia or fear of telling her. Perhaps deep down, he knows that his wife is bonkers and he knows too that he doesn’t have the energy to fight her. But as the story progresses and he wakes up to the nightmare that his life has become, his anger starts to come out, and in the scenes where he is angry, he is truly believable. Stupid, unsuspecting Nick, who finally wakes up to the reality that he’s married to a psychopath, but by then it’s too late, she’s pregnant with his child and there’s no way he’s going to let her raise that child alone. So he ends up stuck in a loveless marriage, but he’s found himself and his purpose, so to speak. Up until that point, it seems as though he has mostly just drifted through his life.

Rosamund Pike did an impressive job as Amy Dunne. She’s a scary woman—Amy, not one you’d want to turn your back on for too long. ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’. And it would be nearly impossible not to scorn Amy. All men pay dearly for perceived slights and indiscretions in Amy’s world. Nick pays dearly for his infidelity, for his stupidity and insensitive treatment of Amy. She’s Amazing Amy for sure, but not in the way that her writer parents could ever have imagined. Amy is a monster--a beautiful one, but a monster nonetheless. One of the most manipulative women portrayed onscreen in a long time; I found myself thinking of Sharon Stone’s character Catherine Tramell in Basic Instinct from 1992. If you wonder about what kind of marriage Catherine and Nick Curran (played by Michael Douglas) in Basic Instinct might have had, perhaps Amy and Nick’s marriage might be one version of such a marriage, at least at the point when it started to crumble.

Neil Patrick Harris did a great job as Desi Collings, Amy’s presumed stalker from her college years, manipulative in his own way, but no real match for Amy. He can’t see through her, or see that he’s being manipulated, and he pays with his life for his stupidity. Kim Dickens character, Detective Rhonda Boney, the cop assigned to the case of the missing Amy, is smart, tough, and demanding. It was a real pleasure to watch her in action, to watch her deal with her colleagues; she could definitely hold her own. The same was true for Nick's sister Margo, played by Carrie Coon--another good performance. 

The part of the story that dragged in the book, Amy’s experiences toward the end with Desi Collings, has been shortened and makes for a much more intense ending. The music score is appropriately jarring and creepy exactly at the times when it should be.

The film reminded me in parts of the film Presumed Innocent from 1990, with Harrison Ford and Bonnie Bedelia as husband and wife. He has an affair with a colleague who ends up raped and murdered, and he is accused of the crime. In reality, it is his wife who has murdered her to make her husband pay for his infidelity; the explanation for how it all happened was way out there, just like the ending in Gone Girl, and quite unusual for its time.

Gone Girl is an unsettling film in yet another way—one that’s often discussed these days. It depicts clearly the power of TV/media to make or break a person, a case, a cause, and the power that talk show hosts wield over the American public. It struck me that Gone Girl is a peculiarly American film; nowhere else in the world do talk show hosts have the type of power they have in America, at least as far as I know. They are the judge and jury, and if they like you, you’re saved, if not, you’re sunk. Innocent people, who don’t know how to play the manipulation game, will have their jugulars ripped out by these packs of dogs. This world is peopled with psychopaths, who manipulate the people and situations around them to serve themselves and their ratings. 

Cleansing and rebirth--Darren Aronofsky's Noah

It’s hard to have a clear opinion about Noah, Darren Aronofsky’s new film about the ark-builder, family man and reluctant servant of God given the task of saving the animals in order that the old corrupt world can be destroyed and a new purified one can take its place. That's because it raises so many unanswerable questions, using the biblical story of Noah. The Earth must suffer fire to cleanse what little remains in the way of civilization and flood waters that will wipe out mankind and allow for the birth of a new world. Noah is aided in his task of building the ark by the Watchers, creatures that are essentially beings of light (angels) that disobeyed the will of God by helping mankind, and who ended up punished by God--trapped by the elements of Earth—mud and rock. They are also called the 'giants in the earth'. When Noah (played by Russell Crowe), his wife Naameh (played by Jennifer Connelly) and his family meet them, they are giant stone creatures resembling small mountains when stationary, who destroy any person who dares to cross into their territory; they no longer trust humans. But they come to understand that Noah, who visits his grandfather Methuselah (played by Anthony Hopkins) in order to discuss with him the dreams he’s been having, is a good man, descended from the line of Seth, and not of Cain (who murdered his brother). The latter line has succeeded in the space of five generations in ravaging and plundering the Earth and destroying the creatures—animals and birds—who live on it. The Earth is a devastated place, lacking food and water. Noah and his family are nomads and vegetarians, who at times run into large groups of marauders who think nothing of murdering innocent people and taking what they want from them. As you watch the film, you know that the end of the world is coming; it cannot continue this way forever; the film is pervaded by this apocalyptic vision. It’s hard not to make the jump to the present day, where mankind’s brutality, violence, and continual devastation of the environment have marked our own world for extinction—in our case perhaps via global warming and/or natural catastrophes caused by our destruction of the planet we live on. The symbolism is not subtle.

The group of marauders descended from the line of Cain is led by a man named Tubal-Cain (played by Ray Winstone), who is ruthless, dangerous and proud. He believes man was made in the image and likeness of God, using that as an excuse to behave badly; he is not God-fearing, preferring to believe that man can behave like God and decide who lives and who dies. Noah is presumably the hero and Tubal-Cain is the anti-hero. Except that it never is that black-and-white, because as the film nears its end, it’s clear to all that Noah is not without sin. In fact, he is a guilt-ridden, deluded, plagued man, angry with the world and with God for assigning him this mission, merciless and ruthless in his own way. The tasks of building the ark, saving the animals, and saving his family prove to be too much for one man’s sanity, especially when he is challenged by his son Ham (played by Logan Lerman), whose pleas to save the young woman he has met and wishes to take with him onboard the ark are ignored, resulting in her death. Ham and Noah become estranged, and Ham is tempted to betray his father by Tubal-Cain, who has managed to come aboard the ark, threatening the survival of all those on board.

The film’s imagery is impressive. It’s hard not to be moved by the scenes of earthly devastation, the eventual flood (rising waters and death by drowning), the battle scenes between the marauders and the Watchers (and their eventual deaths and release from this world), the scenes of birds and animals making their way to the ark, as well as the segment on the creation of the world in seven days. The latter is especially impressive. But it’s also a provocative film as well as at times an over-the-top and illogical one. The numbers of innocent women and children who perished in the flood is hardly justifiable, if God is a righteous God. But we know that the God of the Old Testament was hardly a merciful God, in contrast to Jesus in the New Testament. In fact, the lives of women and children in this patriarchal age were worth very little. Why did God allow that? Why did God spare Noah and his family alone? Surely there were other good families that could also have been saved? Why did Noah first listen to Ham’s wish to find a woman to take aboard so that he would not be alone in the new world, only to vehemently repudiate that idea (he concludes that his only task was to save the animals, not that humans should repopulate the Earth. The scene where he tells his infertile adopted daughter Ila (played by Emma Watson) who is together with his son Shem (played by Douglas Booth) that she is a gift no matter that she cannot reproduce perhaps portends this)? Was that the correct conclusion? Who can know? Why did he consider murdering Ila’s twin daughters, only then to change his mind (he presumably goes against the will of God as he had divined it)? Did God really want him to kill his own grandchildren (one is reminded of the story of Abraham being asked to kill his son Isaac)? These questions are not answered in the Old Testament, and Aronofsky does not answer them either. I left the theater knowing that I had seen a film that would make me think about the things that Aronofsky is clearly preoccupied with—what are we doing to our planet, are we incurring the wrath of its Creator, is the Apocalypse coming, why are we so preoccupied with the end of the world and can we stop it, can we cleanse our world of sin, how can we be reborn and what will it take, is there a merciful Creator, is love the answer to all things (do women intuit and understand that message better than men), and are both men and women necessary to keep the balance between the cerebral and the emotional worlds we inhabit? We cannot have too much of the one or the other as mortal human beings. Or can we? What is Paradise, and why were its original inhabitants so willing to risk their happiness for something they (perceived that they) did not have? Why were they so gullible to temptation? And if they did not have happiness, then how could where they lived be called Paradise? Is it man’s curse to be forever dissatisfied with what he has? Or is this perhaps the greatest temptation of all—to trust others (sometimes in the guise of well-meaning, wise, 'religious' seekers and worldly leaders) to define happiness for us, when we know deep within ourselves what it really is? We must constantly be on the lookout for, and be able to identify, those who would deceive and mislead us, and we must not deceive ourselves. Not easy tasks, much like building an ark and rebuilding a broken world.