Faith & Learning Forum

by David Claerbaut

Well, at least he survived the Flood.  That is about the best thing a faith-and-learning advocate would have to say about the movie, “Noah.”  That and the special effects being quite good as well.  From there, the word disappointing seems most appropriate.  The film is a curious and problematic mixture of Biblical and extra- (or better yet, non-) Biblical grist.  At least the director, Darren Aronofsky, does not deny the latter, telling the New York Times his product “is the least-biblical, biblical film ever made.”

The film is littered with problems and inaccuracies.  First, there is no God in the film.  Just a “Creator,” and a rather far away and mystical one at that.  Apparently, this keeps God at a comfortable distance from being the present and personal transcendent being we know him to be, lest we take Him too seriously in our lives.

Just to make things interesting, Noah’s son, Shem, shows up with a wife, who turns out to be pregnant with twin girls, adding a bit of extra drama to the yarn.  No evidence of wives shows up in the Biblical account.  Oh yes, and Methuselah enters the scene (played by Anthony Hopkins no less) cautioning Noah about this upcoming, cataclysmic marine event, and assisting Noah’s communication with God (er…the Creator) by having him ingest some dark tea.

Apparently, the flood was not compelling enough as a story for Aronofsky, so he tosses in an evil warlord (Ray Winstone) who attempts—with the help of Ham who wanted a wife as well—to kill Noah while the flood rages.

And then there are the rock creatures, can’t forget them.  They are transformed versions of the devil’s angels cast out of heaven who help Noah build the ark.

That should be enough for now.  In short, the movie is a polluted version of a Biblical event, rich with special effects and added, superfluous drama.

So what is the point?  I doubt Aronofsky cared all that much about being faithful to the Biblical account.  Rather, he wanted to “gussy up” a famous story in such a way that believers would plunk down some dollars to see the flick, while the secular moviegoers would be sufficiently entertained.  Two markets with one falsified story.  Capitalism in action.  For those of you who may have seen it, you might want to ask your secular friends what they thought of it.  It would be interesting to see something like this through the eyes of the non-believer.  If nothing else, we would find out how entertaining the film really was once you excise Biblical accuracy from the formula.

Dr. Claerbaut is the Founder of www.faithandlearningforum.com.

[49]  “American Hustle” (2013)

by David Claerbaut

“American Hustle” is rather liberally based on the FBI ABSCAM sting three decades ago.  It was highly acclaimed, nominated for 10 Oscars.

The story begins in 1978 when Sydney Prosser (Amy Adams) successfully tutors her lover, Irving Rosenfeld (Christian Bale) in scamming.  Rosenfeld’s life, however, is complicated as his estranged wife, Rosalyn, has his adopted son, Danny, and will not grant him a divorce.

When FBI man, Richie DiMaso (Bradley Cooper) apprehends Irving and Sydney in a loan scam, he offers to swap their freedom for help in getting other arrests.  Irving buys in but Sydney balks.

FBI agent Richard “Richie” DiMaso catches Irving and Sydney in a loan scam but offers to release them if Irving can line up four additional arrests. Sydney opposes the agreement. Richie believes Sydney is English but has proof that her claim of aristocracy is fraudulent. Sydney tells Irving she will manipulate Richie, distancing herself from Irving.

Soon Irving enlists a friend, posing as an affluent Arab Sheikh, and attempts to trap the mayor of Atlantic City, Carmine Polito (Jeremy Renner) who is trying to raise the money necessary to make gambling flourish in his city. As it turns out, Polito comes to dislike Richie, while Irving gains his trust.

Eventually, Polito has the Sheikh meet some mobsters at a casino party.  The mobsters include Meyer Lansky’s right-hand man, Victor Tellegio, who tells the Sheikh that to make things work he will have to become an American citizen quickly, even if it necessitates bribing government officials.

From there things get emotionally messy.  Richie gets hooked on Sydney and Irving then tries to abort the agreement.  No dice, says Richie, as Tellegio will then learn of the sting and have Sydney, Irving, Rosalyn, and Danny wasted.

Rosalyn then hooks up with a mobster and tells him that Irving is connected with the IRS. After some clever maneuverings the crisis passes and Rosalyn keeps Irving’s cover, although now wanting a divorce.

The sting continues to heat up in a suspenseful fashion, with the lives of the participants teetering in the balance, but eventually all is resolved.  Irving and Sydney live together as operators of an art gallery, while Rosalyn moves in with her gangster lover, sharing custody of Danny with his father.  Tellegio goes away and Richie is spared as well.

The power of the film lies in its mixture of comedy and drama as it peers into the lives and drives of its characters.  The film manages to capture the gritty reality of urban danger within an often humorous context.  It is—in a word—entertaining.

For the Christian it is an expose of the contemporary secular life and the lengths to which humans will go in pursuit of what they believe to be a better life.  With no eternal perspective, no grip on spiritual truth—the Bread and Water of Life—the characters yearn for satisfaction in the here-and-now, believing that the emotional and financial oasis lies just beyond their immediate reach.  There are no heroes here.  Even the G-man, Richie, is in it for personal advancement.

For the faith and learning viewer, it is a film that shows how little one can learn about the meaning of life outside of faith.

Dr. Claerbaut is the Founder of www.faithandlearningforum.com.

[48]  “Twelve Years a Slave” (2013)

by David Claerbaut

Based on the book of the same name, “12 Years a Slave” is directed by Steven “Steve” McQueen, a black Englishman.  The story begins in 1841, more than two decades before the Emancipation Proclamation, when Solomon Northrup (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is taken from his wife and two children in Saratoga Springs, New York, where he had been living as a free man.  Northrup is shipped to New Orleans and into slavery.  There he is ultimately sold by a hardened slave marketeer, Theophilus Freeman (Paul Giamatti) to a plantation owner named William Ford.  Ford is benign–even kind–by slave-owner standards, and appreciates Northrup’s ingenuity, giving him a fiddle as a token of his appreciation.

Things get worse for Northrup as his skills draw the ire of John Tibeats, a red-neck carpenter, who tries to lynch Northrup.  The plantation foreman intervenes and Tibeats and company leave, but the foreman stops short of freeing Northrup from the noose.  That is done by Ford, who soon realizes the only way to keep Northrup clear of the homicidal Tibeats is to sell the slave.  When Northrup pleads with Ford, telling him he is actually a free man from the North, Ford is unpersuaded and peddles him to Edwin Epps (Michael Fassbender) to settle a debt.

Epps is far more difficult than Ford, defending his savage treatment of slaves by using pro-slavery verses from Scripture, not all of them Biblically correct.  The mean-spirited owner demands that each slave pick 200 pounds of cotton daily or risk a beating.  When a young female slave, Patsey (Lupita Nyong’o), actually picks 500, Epps responds with praise and lust.  His jealous wife (Sarah Paulson) mimics the experience of Tibeats and Northrup, choosing to abuse Patsey at every opportunity.  Epps’ desire for Patsey, however, is unabated and he rapes the slave girl repeatedly, openly proclaiming that he would choose Patsey over his own wife if that were necessary.

Things change when cotton worm afflicts Epps’ crops.  Viewing it as a divine plague brought on by the new slaves, he leases them to the owner of a sugar plantation.   Things go better for Northrup, and the plantation owner has him entertain with his fiddle at a wedding anniversary celebration, permitting him to keep the money he takes in.

Northrup has plans for the money.  Upon his return to Epps, he has a white worker mail a letter to his friends back in New York.  The worker double crosses Northrup.  He keeps the money, and worse, Epps finds out about Northrup’s intention.  In a poignant scene, Northrup—after barely succeeding in bluffing Epps–weeps as he burns the letter, and in so doing, seemingly slams the door on his hopes for freedom

Patsey continues to be the object of abuse.  In one scene, Northrup is appointed to do the whipping, but when he fails to do so with sufficient vigor, Epps finishes the lashing with a vengeance.  As Patsey recovers, Northrup develops a relationship with Bass (Brad Pitt), a carpenter, as they work on a gazebo.  After some convincing, Bass reluctantly agrees to get Northrup’s letter in the mail.

The caper succeeds, and one of Northup’s associates from New York comes down to restore his freedom.  What is great news for Northrup is not so for either Epps or Patsey, the latter receiving a hug from Northrup as he exits slavery.

With his freedom restored after a dozen years, the credits roll, indicating that Northrup unsuccessfully tried to prosecute the men who abducted him, but published his book, Twelve Years a Slave in 1853.

McQueen, who has developed an expertise with racial themes, was praised for his work, as were the performances of Ejiofor, Fassbender, Paulson, and Nyong’o.

The gripping film has many strong themes for the faith and learning viewer.  We see the power of sin blatantly splayed on the screen through Epps’ Biblical rationales for his demonic behavior.  It reminds the viewer of how easily one can twist Scripture to serve self-interest.  We also see the power of institutional sin, the systematic visitation of evil on the weakest members of society, with Ford unwittingly carrying out this wrongdoing.  We also see grace coming from some unlikely sources, indicating God can enter any heart.

There’s an ambivalence to the film.  While the freedom of Northrup is spirit-lifting, a good bit of one’s heart stays with all the Patseys—male and female—who are left behind.  And so it is in this imperfect world.  Grace often shines brightly but the final victory is not yet won.

One could argue that the film is hardly fair to the faith—a rather consistent Hollywood failing given the religious predilections of its practitioners.  While the Christian Northrup says, “There never was a more kind, noble, candid, Christian man than William Ford,” and that it was Ford’s position in history that rendered him unable to see “the inherent wrong at the bottom of the system of Slavery,” the film is rather rough on Ford.  There is also the revisionist attempt to pull 19^th century Christianity out of its historical placement and assess it in the light 21^st century knowledge.  In short, Northrup offered a far more balanced view of Christianity and its representative, William Ford, than did McQueen more than 150 years later.

Dr. Claerbaut is the Founder of www.faithandlearningforum.com.

[47]  “The Great Gatsby” (2013)

by David Claerbaut

Apparently we cannot get quite enough of Gatsby.  It seems every generation a new movie is trotted out.  And it doesn’t end there.  Gatsby resides in many places in America.  There is a beauty salon here in a Las Vegas casino named “Gatsby’s.”

The F. Scott Fitzgerald story is a familiar one.  Set in the Roaring 20’s, Jay Gatsby, the millionaire bootlegger lives in opulent West Egg, on the Long Island Sound outside of Manhattan.  Tom Buchanan (Joel Edgerton), the husband of Gatsby’s former girlfriend, Daisy, lives amid the “old money” in East Egg.

Gatsby has a score to settle with Buchanan, who romanced Daisy out of Gatsby’s life when he had no money.  As important as Gatsby is, the main character is Nick Carraway, a 30-year-old classmate of Buchanan’s at Yale and a second cousin of Daisy.  Nick takes a cottage next to Gatsby as he ventures in the life of a stockbroker.  The mysterious Gatsby uses the relationship with Carraway as a ruse to reconnect with his Southern belle love, Daisy.  Tom has his own sideline, a woman named Myrtle, the wife of a garage owner named George Wilson.

Director Baz Luhrmann tells the story through Carraway (Tobey Maguire), who in 1929, is in a sanitarium, being treated for alcoholism and in need of cathartic therapy.  Not surprisingly, Fitzgerald himself was an alcoholic.  With the close of the 20’s and the crash of the market, the story becomes retrospective.  In the film, Carraway comes off as immature and naïve rather than an incisive observer.  Leonardo DiCaprio does well as Gatsby—charming, confident, and manipulative as a prosperous bootlegger, yet possessing a winsome, inner morality.   It is this latter quality that Carraway admires, proclaiming Gatsby as the embodiment of the American Dream, far above “the rotten crowd.”

In any case, Gatsby begins an affair with Daisy, portrayed by Carey Mulligan as a wealthy but directionless soul.  Daisy wants to leave New York with Gatsby.   After an attempt at secrecy encounter between Buchanan and Gatsby occurs at the Plaza Hotel, in the presence of Daisy, Nick, and Nick’s partner, Jordan.  Gatsby leaves the Plaza in his car with Daisy, only to run over and kill Myrtle who is fleeing from George, thinking Gatsby’s vehicle belonged to Tom.

Nick later sees Gatsby in East Egg, where he informs Nick that Daisy was the driver of the lethal vehicle, although Gatsby willingly shoulders the responsibility, assured that Daisy will be calling him the next day.  In the course of the conversation, Gatsby tells Tom that his real name is James Gatz and that he was born in poverty.  Hearing the phone ring while swimming in the pool, Gatsby gets out in anticipation of Daisy’s call.  It is a fatal move as an angry and aggrieved George shoots Gatsby and then himself.

Neither Tom nor Daisy attend Gatsby’s funeral.  The assembled media believe Gatsby—not Tom–was Myrtle’s lover and murderer.  Revulsed with New York and its tragedies, Nick leaves the late Gatsby’s mansion, deciding to add the adjective Great to Gatsby’s name on his memoir.

This 143-minute film turned a healthy buck—over $350MM, but the reviews were less than uniformly laudatory.  Form overshoots substance, as the ostentatious visual effects crowd out the complex and sensitive story at too many points.  Luhrmann goes a bit over-the-top in his attempt to capture the luxury and palatial decadence of the time.  The orgy-like party at the residence of Buchanan’s mistress and the get-together of bootleggers at Gatsby’s mansion are typical examples.  DiCaprio and Edgerton turn in stellar performances.

The faith and learning Christian can spend plenty of time unpacking all the elements of this morality tale.   The decadence of the 20’s is well displayed as one sees a culture drifting away from the spiritual and heading straight into the life of the sensate.  Money and pleasure become the cornerstones of the characters’ lives, but these earthly items satisfy not.  An emptiness pervades and the figures in the story long for quality relationships.  Breaking the rules of the society and conventional Christianity their pursuits end in destruction and death.

This is an intriguing story of wealthy people with impoverished souls.  That Gatsby emerges as great in the eyes of the alcoholic Nick, is an indication of the relativism of the narrator’s view.  While Gatsby, himself, indulges in vengeful adultery, he loves sacrificially, willing to bear the sins of Daisy.  Nick looks past Gatsby’s own transgressions and sees a redemptive morality.  “They’re a rotten crowd,” says Nick about the rest of the people.  “You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together.”  In “The Great Gatsby,” people not only gain the whole world and lose their own souls, their earthly harvest is one of death and loss as well.

Dr. Claerbaut is the Founder of www.faithandlearningforum.com.

[46]  “Son of God” (2014)

by Steve Launer

I am like my fellow reviewer, Mark Eckels.  I love going to the movies.  I enjoy being transported to somewhere I cannot go, another time and place. Because of my faith, movies that are “Christian-themed” interest me. When the publicity began for the “Son of God” movie, it was on my must-see list.  Produced by Roma Downey (of “Touched by an Angel” fame) and Mark Burnett, and starring Downey and Diogo Morgado, the movie is peddled as a Biblical epic.

The movie was presented as an expansion on “The Bible” television mini-series, and with early reviews calling this movie “awe inspiring,” and “spectacular,” I went with high expectations. I had seen most of “The Bible” miniseries and anticipated a suitably upgraded movie experience.

A major strength of the film is that it portrays Jesus as human and approachable. It does a surprisingly credible job of this. Jesus’ interaction with the disciples, for example, is genuine.  In fact, Jesus smiles a lot, something rarely depicted in other media. 

The portrayal of the miracle, however, is disappointing.  They are not sufficiently spectacular.  The scene of Jesus walking on water, and Peter stepping out of the boat, was probably the best use of movie technology throughout the entire movie. I also kept waiting for some “teaching moments” with the crowds or just with the disciples, but none were in evidence. This could have been accomplished through a confrontation with the Jewish leaders prior to Jesus’ arrest and trial. There were plenty of those.  The only thing approaching a “teaching moment” came in a secret conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus.  In short, the film has little or no metaphysical message.

There are some other problems.  The “clearing of the Temple” scene portrays Christ as confused and unsure of exactly why he is taking these actions. No “righteous indignation.” As a male watching this scene, what immediately registered was Jesus’ lack of “manliness,” so typical of the antiseptic portrayals of Jesus in both secular and Christian media.  The Bible describes the temple-clearing incident in John 2 as one in which Jesus makes a whip out of bunch of cords and uses the makeshift weapon to drive the merchants out of the temple complex. Unfortunately there was no real “driving force” evident in this movie.

Moreover, there is a visual lack of realism. The main characters all have perfect teeth, clean hands, and seemingly manicured fingernails, something simply not possible in first century culture. I don’t believe there were many orthodontists practicing in the Jerusalem market prior to 50 AD, or centuries later for that matter. Perhaps the perfect Son of God did have perfect teeth, but given that he spent his growing years in the building trades, he would have to have some wear on his hands, at least a callous or two. And with no exit-ramp truck and auto stops along the Jerusalem highway–replete with clean restrooms–one might expect a smudge or two on Jesus and his followers.  Ancestry is also head-scratching.  While all the “extras” are of obvious Middle Eastern heritage, Jesus, and his disciples, are shown as handsome Caucasians.

The film is neither “awe inspiring” nor “spectacular.”  It fails to break free of the stereotypes typical of portrayals of Christ over the years.  An unbeliever’s perceptions of Jesus would be little challenged by this film.  Although one would hardly expect a secular production like this to “send a message” to the viewer, it is not unreasonable to expect that it might at least meet the standard of realism.  It does neither.

Steve Launer is a Men’s Ministry Specialist from Las Vegas.

[45]  Eating Popcorn at the Movies

by Mark Eckel

In the theater, I like my popcorn buttered.  It was the summer of 1981 and Hollywood had returned to the great adventure movie: “Raiders of the Lost Ark.” Harrison Ford stars in the chase around the world to find the Hebrew Ark of the Covenant. So there I was, eating my popcorn, watching Indiana Jones traipse through the jungle after his latest acquisition. All the while, foreboding music fills the moviegoers’ ear with suspense.  When Jones finally reaches the treasure, he offsets the weight of the stone with sand. Stone in hand Jones seems to have overcome the obstacle. One could almost hear the collective sigh of relief in the audience. The music, so foreboding up to this point, stopped, and we, the audience, stopped with it. We shared with the character on screen a moment of triumph.

For a moment, just a few seconds, I stopped eating popcorn.

But thenIndiana Jones’ ploy to stop whatever hidden horrors awaited him was found wanting. The pressurized stand holding the sand began to descend. The music began again. My hand instinctively reached for more popcorn. If we thought entering the cave was bad, trying to leave was worse. The cave was trying to kill Indiana Jones. Pulse-pounding strains beat through the surround sound speakers and Jones escapes again.  All the while, the music dictates my popcorn consumption.

Just when he thinks the worst is over, Jones must now outrace a gargantuan boulder; the cave’s final defense against losing its treasure. The music reaches a crescendo as archaeologist and audience lives to reach the cave entrance and final safety. The huge rock seems to gain on Jones through every twist and turn. I am emotively willing Indiana Jones through the cave and I am eating popcorn without thought. Finally, the hero launches himself through the entrance and I breathe a collective sigh of relief with the rest of the audience. Just before the next scene commences, I look down at my jumbo container of popcorn. I had consumed every kernel.  In just 10 minutes.

I was shocked! How could I have eaten such a huge amount of food so quickly? What compelled me to do such a thing? When was it that my mind disengaged from my hand-to-mouth popcorn frenzy? And then it dawned on me: it was the music.

Music is a manipulator. Think about it. When we enter the supermarket, soothing symphonic strains waft through the air. Why? The supermarket wants to keep us there. Music is a muse. A muse whispers in our ear, “Listen. Let me tell you what to do.”

Great movies use music as well as other devices to tell a story. Music is subversive in that sense. We are not thinking about the music while we watch the movie for the first time. Action films depend on music, loud and fast. A love story’s scores lead us gently toward love. Children’s story music lulls us into the arms of our favorite stuffed animal. Dramas are known for mystery, suspense, tension, and surprise, using symphonic music to communicate dread, fear, alarm, and passion. There is a reason why the Academy Awards give Oscars for Best Musical Score. The music helps tell the story and helps us eat more popcorn.

Everything in a movie is there for a purpose: music, script, actors, set design, color, dialogue, words, repetition. Be aware that there is a direct line between popcorn consumption and the music, or the script, or the dialogue, etc. Directors, producers, editors, photographers, and musicians are hired to compel our movie experience.

Here are 10 questions to ask about any film and about how that film moves us to feel, to be, to act, to eat.

1. For the faith and learning viewer, what is the message of the film?

2.  What values does the film encourage?

3. How does the music carry the message of the movie?

4. How does the director influence the message of the movie?

5. What impact does the choice of actors bring to the movie?

6. How are colors used in a movie to communicate ideas, values, moods, or purpose?

7. If a movie has great dialogue, what does this tell us about movie scripts?

8. How is repetition used in dialogue, scenery, clothing, or action in a movie?

9. Why is set design and movie location so important in a film?

10. How does a movie’s cinematography or photography make an impression on the viewer?

Dr. Eckel is a principal reviewer for www.faithandlearningforum.com.

[44]  “Saving Mr. Banks” (2013)

by David Claerbaut

It’s 1961 and P.L. Travers, the author of the Mary Poppins series is not excited about turning over the film rights of her work to Walt Disney, but her agent urges the financially strapped Travers to make the trip from London to Los Angeles and hear him out.  Disney, known for animation rather than conventional films, hardly seems the right person.  Disney, however, wants the rights because his daughters loved the books and he has promised to turn the stories into film.

The LA venture starts badly.  Travers is disenchanted with LA and its plastic personalities, vividly expressed by the limo driver Ralph (Paul Giamatti) provided for her.  Once involved with Disney’s staff, Travers is put off by their informal and convivial style.  She remains distant in her meeting with Disney.

The clash between Travers and Disney was much one of artistic style.  Travers rejected the world of fantasy despite the fantasy-laden nature of her Mary Poppins work.  In time, it becomes clear that Travers’ fiction is intensely autobiographical.  Travers is particularly unhappy with the way in which George Banks, in whose home Mary Poppins is the nanny, is depicted.  Hence, the name of the film.

If you like flashbacks this film is for you, as the viewer is regularly transported back in time to Travers’ childhood in Australia.  Much of the power of the film resides in Travers’ personal story.  Travers came from a home tinged by alcoholism.  Her father, Travers Robert Goff (Colin Farrell), deeply loved by Travers, is unable to confront his alcoholism.  There is a duality in her father, as he transmits fantasy and joy to his daughter, all the while destroying his life and that of his family with his disease.  Painful memories from her past invade as she tries to work with the Disney group.  At one point, Disney suggests the two of them go to Disneyland.  This, in combination with a number of other factors—including a shift in the character of Banks—puts things on track.

All is not settled, however, as Travers bolts when she discovers that Disney intends to use animation in the film.  With the project aborted, Disney, who discovers that Travers’ real name is Helen Goff, heads for London to save the enterprise.  When he meets with Goff (Travers) he shares much of the pain of his own childhood, and after urging her to find healing in art he is able to gain the rights to the film.  At one point, Disney tells Travers that we can put a happy ending to some of our painful life stories, if only in our minds.

When the film was ready, Disney did not want Travers at the premiere, fearing negative fallout.  Travers is undeterred, visits Disney, and gets to the premiere.  Despite initially disliking the film, Travers is overwhelmed by emotion as she sees the positive depiction of Banks, who we discover is modeled on Travers’ alcoholic father.

According to some reviewers, the happy, “we shall overcome” finish to the film is at best, fanciful, as Travers reportedly cried in misery at the cinematic butchering of her work, and held an anger against Disney for three decades.

In any case, Hanks and Thompson are outstanding, as is Farrell.  The story is brilliantly told as films with a British tone often are.  Devoid of the special effects of sex and violence, the 125 minute film holds the viewer.  The reviews were largely positive, citing the excellent acting and the Disney touch on a fascinating story.

For the faith and learning viewer, there are some solid themes.  Undistracted by meaningless sex and violence, one sees the power of grace in Travers, as she loves her father through his alcoholism.  Disney models the value of one’s word, as he spares nothing to honor his promise to his daughters.  The value of faith is evidenced in Disney’s notion of putting happy endings on less than happy life events.  Though not expressed in a Christian context, Disney’s assertions aligns well with the “all things working together for good…” tenet of the Christian faith.  Finally, the transformation of Travers in response to the persistent, yet kind treatment of Disney shows that healthy and loving regard can work wonders in the lives of others.

Dr. Claerbaut is the Founder of www.faithandlearningforum.com.

[43]  “Behind the Candelabra” (2013)

by David Claerbaut

“Behind the Candelabra” focuses on the last decade of Liberace’s life and with his relationship with Scott Thorson.  The HBO film is based on the 1988 book by the same name.  Written by Richard LaGravenese, the film was produced by Jerry Weintraub and directed by Steven Soderbergh.  Heavyweight performances by Michael Douglas (as Liberace) and Matt Damon (as Thorson) make the already compelling story all the more powerful.

Animal trainer Scott Thorson is 18 when in 1977 a gay friend introduces him to up-in-years Liberace.  When Thorson treats Liberace’s dog—suffering from temporary blindness—the pianist takes him on as an assistant.

Soon Thorson moves into Liberace’s spectacular mansion and becomes his lover.  There is an issue of concern, as Scott claims to be bisexual while Liberace has despaired of developing an attraction to women, claiming that via a divine healing, a messenger of God assured him that the Lord still loved him.

The relationship soon degenerates into Liberace’s attempt to control Scott all the while keeping their alliance private.  He goes so far as to ask his plastic surgeon to reshape Scott’s face to look more like his own, and even attempts to adopt Thorson.  An angry Thorson begins using drugs as a coping mechanism.

After five years of Liberace’s infidelities and Thorson’s drug use, the relationship ends. Liberace’ tastes run to porno theaters and he suggests that they each see other men.  An infuriated Thorson hits Liberace with a $100 MM palimony action.  Liberace then dissolves all aspects of their relationship and takes up with a younger “assistant.”  The palimony suit, however, requires that Scott reveal details of his 5-year tryst with pianist while Liberace attempts to deny the relationship.

After a few years—in 1986, Liberace contacts Scott with the news of his having AIDS.  Thorson visits Liberace, and during this intense death-bed visit he agrees to a small financial settlement with the dying entertainer in exchange for dropping the legal action.

At Liberace’s 1987 funeral, Scott pictures the pianist being swept to heaven with a stage harness as he performs in his usual showy, flamboyant style.

There are many directions the Christian can go with this film.  Clearly, there is a web of deceit operating with Liberace’s vehement denials of his sexual orientation.  This, one could argue, is driven by a culture that harasses gays rather than accepts their presence, whether or not one approves of the lifestyle.  There is also, however, lots of unhealthy behavior.  Liberace’s serial infidelity is both dishonest and risky to him and Thorson.  Each alienated by a troubled or manipulative mother, Liberace mimics his mother’s tendencies to control by imposing his will on the younger Thorson who then turns to drugs.  Finally, their inability to resolve their conflict results in rejection by Liberace and legal vengeance by the evicted Thorson.

There is a touch of redemption in the film as the alienated and angry Thorson reconciles in spirit with the dying Liberace, rather can carry out his lawsuit to a final resolution.  For the faith and learning viewer, this event is meaningful.  It is an act of considerable grace, something one sees all too little of in the community of faith.

Dr. Claerbaut is the Founder of www.faithandlearningforum.com.

[42]  “The Spitfire Grill” (1996)

by Mark Eckel

A Sundance Audience Choice Award went to a Hollywood movie–“The Spitfire Grill,” financed by Gregory Productions, the fund-raising arm of a Mississippi Christian charity.  The Catholic aid organization wanted a story that would be acceptable in association with a Christian enterprise.  Independent film making at its best, “The Spitfire Grill”offers the solution to a universal human theme—the search for a transcendent mercy to amend wrongdoing.

Percy (Alison Elliott) resides in a Maine women’s correctional institution.  Her longing for a fresh start arises out of her job answering vacationers’ questions about the state.  Upon release she discovers a place where she can find respite and begin again.

Gilead, Percy’s new hometown, sees life from behind the bars of prejudice and suspicion.  “What’s she doing here anyway?” is whispered about Percy’s sudden appearance.  Percy begins to open people’s mental jail cells with her stark announcement about her incarceration while serving breakfast at the grill.  She is open, but everyone else is closed.

Central to the film is the secret of why Percy had done time.  The question is left to linger in viewers’ minds as Percy’s freedom loosens the shackles of Gilead.  The “Spitfire Grill,” owned by a sour, angry woman (played brilliantly by Ellyn Burstyn) is auctioned off at Percy’s behest, setting up Percy’s capitulation and Gilead’s redemption.  Subplots roil amid Percy’s soothing presence, indicating how many sins need the purging of mercy.

Yet mercy is dependent upon an outside source.  Lee David Zlotoff’s script utilizes an “enveloping effect”—a stranger comes to town.  At the beginning, people peep from behind closed doors in the dark; while the story ends when another stranger comes in on a sunny day; the town’s people celebrating the new arrival.  The sacrifice of one establishes the acceptance of another.  And Percy, as the sacrificial lamb, opens the road to redemption.

“Nobody comes here anymore,” Percy says of the church building, her place of solitude.  Neglected by the town, even on Sunday, the edifice is crucial to finalize the tale.  Clare, The Spitfire Grill’s new owner in the end, is the mirror image of Percy with child.  The beauty and mystery of the story is that the viewer does not know why Percy needs a fresh start.  Indeed, Clare is offered the fresh start with no questions asked.

Incredibly, a Christian organization prompted Hollywood to produce a film that answers the faith and learning question, “Can human wrongdoing be assuaged through redemption?”  An outside redeemer is necessary to offer the acceptable sacrifice.  Viewers are moved because they see the actors playing roles which they live every day.

Critics were unaware of the funding for “The Spitfire Grill.”  Many in the film industry were angry, often repudiating their original positive view of the movie, upon learning of the tie to a Catholic organization.  This begs the question: Should Christians “hide” their views until after a project has been released?  Mel Gibson took the opposite approach and paid the price.  Let’s hope that will not be the case in days to come.

Dr. Eckel is a principal reviewer for www.faithandlearningforum.com.

[41]  Hollywood Bumps

by Mark Eckel

Hollywood does not know where to go on the issue of life.

“A television comedy cannot show a woman choosing abortion,” said my wife, Robin, when Murphy Brown was deciding to keep her on-air-child back in the 1990’s.

The same holds true today.  “Gurl” website states that whether one is pro-choice or pro-life, no one thinks having an abortion is fun or glamorous. Abortion is rarely mentioned on television or in the movies. Characters who do have unplanned pregnancies rarely even say the word “abortion” and almost never have them.

There is nothing funny about abortion, so few television and movie characters choose abortion.  Christina of “Grey’s Anatomy” had an abortion, but her decision destroyed her marriage as her husband walked out. In HBO’s “Girls” a young woman was going to kill her child in utero. Her friends were going to throw an “abortion party,” but “Girls’” producers dodged the final result when the character discovered she was not pregnant after all.

But this preservationist stance belies the true attitude of the media in general and Hollywood in particular.

National Public Radio interviewed a Vatican spokesperson on Pope Francis’ “State of the World Address.” The media has been infatuated with Francis because of his honest displays of compassion, referring to his actions as “revolutionary.” But his speech referencing “the horror of abortion,” proved a bit too much for NPR’s Renee Montagne. A tone of incredulity lathered Montagne’s voice as she asked John Allen of the National Catholic Reporter, “Is this any kind of evidence that Francis might not be quite, you know, as what you might call revolutionary as he seems?”

John Allen’s response was measured, generous. “That reference to abortion came in the context of child soldiers and human trafficking.  The Church’s pro-life teachings are part of a continuum that also include these other social concerns.”

Our culture and its communicators want everyone to agree with them about everything.

If one is pro-life, abortion apologists respond with amazement that someone is so simple-minded as to disagree with them, yet I find the pro-choice people decidedly dishonest, especially in the Hollywood culture.  At a Golden Globe Awards event, commentators “oohed” and “aahed” at various actresses and their “baby bumps.” Hollywood celebrates life on these happy occasions when it pleases its members, yet remains overwhelmingly pro-choice—in fact, pro-abortion–in its outlook.  Why not be honest about its abortion beliefs at an award show?  Amid the visible “bumps,” a celebrity critic could be honest in the case of “bumps” removed by saying, “So-and-so just had an abortion this week! Look! No baby bump!”

It is better that we never get to that level of honesty, or Hollywood will sew its real attitude toward life more directly into its productions.

Dr. Eckel is a principal reviewer for www.faithandlearningforum.com.

[40]  “Solitary Man” (2009)

by David Claerbaut

Michael Douglas is Ben Kalmen, a car dealer, who finds out there was an abnormality on his EKG.  With his mortality suddenly staring him in the face, Ben does not “get his house in order.”  He never follows up with his physician, but opts instead for oral medicine and a reckless lifestyle.  By the time he is 60 Ben is out of money—the result of a Prodigal Son-like venture into riotous living, coupled with a marriage failure and business reverses. 

For the faith and learning Christian, Ben’s behavior is not unusual.  The way many non-believers cope with death is to hype up what they believe to be living.  And that Ben does.  Amid all his self-generated calamities, Ben’s denial of death continues as he beds women indiscriminately in a feverish quest to regain the vitality of youth.  When Ben takes the college-bound daughter of a girlfriend (Mary-Louise Parker) on a college visit at his alma mater, things worsen. 

There he encounters a student named Daniel, who accords Ben the kind of respect he has lost but continues to crave.  The rejuvenated Ben then tries to recover lost ardor by seducing Allyson (Imogen Poots), his girlfriend Jordan’s daughter.  The hunter, as they say, is captured by the prey.  Desiring on an ongoing relationship, Allyson dismisses Ben, viewing the tryst as a one-night experiment with a father figure.  Moreover, when Allyson tells her mother of the event, the incensed Jordan ends her relationship with Ben, including her financial support of a business venture.

It is all falling apart for Ben.  Facing eviction from his apartment, Susan, his daughter also disowns him, labeling Ben unfit as a grandfather to her son, owing to his erratic behavior and sexual adventuring.  Plummeting economically and personally, Ben works at a diner near Allyson’s campus, owned by a friend, Jimmy Marino (Danny DeVito).  The jilted Jordan will tolerate no proximity of Ben to her daughter and promptly demands that he leave the college community or risk having some associates of her ex-husband compel him to do so.   

The sexually obsessed Ben is simply out of control and pays the price for ignoring Jordan’s admonitions.  At a college party he hits on Daniel’s girlfriend.  She wants nothing of Ben who is then roughed up by an ex-cop sent by Jordan’s ex-husband. 

Ben lands in the hospital, and apparently does some soul searching.  Exiting against medical advice he apologizes to Daniel and meets with his ex-wife, Nancy (Susan Sarandon).  Upon hearing Ben attribute his bizarre behavior to fearing death and feeling “invisible,” she rejects this excuse, and wonders in which direction Ben will turn.  The movie closes with Ben sitting on a bench as a desirable young woman walks by.  Ben looks at the young woman.  He also looks at Nancy.  He has a decision to make.

The cast is terrific and the Schrader-like film is compelling.  It is also typical of other Douglas films in which he shows the inner emptiness behind outward expressions of bravado and sexual savvy.  This film reveals the power of addiction (in this case sexual) at its worst.  What is clear that one does not will one’s way out of a driven and destructive path.  The addict has to submit to a power larger than his own will.  Such is the ”Higher Power” in recovery programs, a non-sectarian reference to God.  While Ben may think the choice is between his wife and a life of chasing sexual pleasure, it is really about what god he will worship.  

Dr. Claerbaut is the Founder of www.faithandlearningforum.com.

[39]  “The Interrupters” (2011)

by David Claerbaut

“The Interrupters” is a gripping documentary that peels back the layers of gang violence in inner city Chicago.  The film is centered around three people, Cobe Williams, Eddie Bocanegra, and Ameena Matthews.  They work with Ceasefire, a program aimed at “interrupting” gang-driven violence.  Matthews steals the show, as the viewer is mesmerized by her passion and soul as she intersects with both males and females on the streets of South Chicago.  The daughter of the infamous and now imprisoned 66-year-old Jeff Fort, former leader of the Blackstone Rangers, her interactions with current gang members and those affected by them, cuts close to her own life experience—one of abuse of every kind and addiction to the excitement and money associated with gang life.  Indeed the sins of the father were visited on this now adult child.

The story is based in Englewood, a gang-infested neighborhood, a dozen miles south of Chicago’s loop.  In one 24-hour period, there were 33 documented crimes committed in the area—a third were drug-related.  The viewer rides and walks along with Williams, Bocanegra, and Matthews and is confronted with the full spectrum of tragedy—drugs, guns, disputes, and murders–adolescents killing adolescents over the smallest of “grievances.”  Funeral Director Spencer Leak states that of 125 homicides whose funerals were handled by his mortuary, 90% were young people.  He remarks that in the last 10-15 years he has seen “random violence” like never before.

The violence often starts with a simple grievance.  Someone looks askance at a gang member’s girlfriend, “disrespects” another, or crosses some other behavioral line.  From there resolution is sought through violence and with that the cycle carries on.  Hence the name of the film—an effort at interrupting the cycle. 

For sociologists, the gang culture is one of socialization.  Gang leaders are “bad” and “cool.”  They also have money and power, rare commodities in impoverished communities.  The gang culture pervades the child and adolescent sectors of communities like that of Englewood.  Constructive alternative role models are almost invisible.  Children become as socially shaped (socialized) to the life of the street as the children of the elite are to life in the prep school.

Reminiscent of “Hoop Dreams,” the story is powerful and you are there—in the van, on the street, in the hospital, and at the funeral home—privy to all the R-rated conversations in this close-to-the-bone documentary of life and death.  And the film is well done, winning a number of “Best Documentary” awards.  Esteemed critic, the late Roger Ebert, called it “mighty and heart-wrenching.”

In the late 1970’s I wrote The Reluctant Defender, the story of the Cabrini Green Legal Aid clinic.  Based in another Chicago inner city neighborhood, the clinic provides—to this day—legal service to indigent residents.  The context of that story, however, is the same as that of “The Interrupters.”  It is all the same.  Guns and drugs abound while positive role models scarce. 

What makes the film sad is that the only change one sees in these communities (since The Reluctant Defender) is that there are more guns, more drugs, and more dead youth.  It is indeed “mighty and heart wrenching.”

Matthews speaks of not letting one’s circumstances dictate one’s life.  At the individual level that is sage counsel, but as long as society is segregated by race and income, the urban story will not change.  Just as one does not learn how to go straight by associating with fellow convicts in the state prison, one does not see many healthy alternatives when one’s local “world” is long on drugs, guns, and crime and short on education and positive role models.

Curiously, for the faith and learning viewer, one’s faith will be affirmed in a reverse sense, as one sees the wages of sin in individual people’s lives and the wages of sin for an affluent nation that turns its back on its most oppressed citizens.  For the Christian, the church comes to mind—the institution against which the very gates of hell will not prevail.  There is plenty of opportunity for constructive involvement on the part of churches within and outside of these communities.  Connecting some affluent and indigent congregations in the life of those in need may well be a burgeoning model of bridge-building.  If ever the church is to be salt and light, it is in communities like these.  The challenge is daunting, but making the Gospel socially as well as personally transformative is the ultimate and only enduring interruption.

Dr. Claerbaut is the Founder of www.faithandlearningforum.com.

 [38] Sports Films

by David Claerbaut

We are seeing more and more sports movies.  Clearly, the market is there.  This then begs the question: What makes a great sports movie?  Some of the best are fiction, others non-fiction, and there are duds in both categories.  

 Clearly there is an incredible range in quality in this genre.  Some are gripping while others insult the viewer’s intelligence with cardboard characters and gee-whiz plots. 

 Here are some thoughts on the elements involved in good sports movies.    

 Engaging Characters.  When the characters are engaging–well drawn and interesting–even the non-sports fan viewer remains involved.  This can be a challenge for the non-fiction film, one built around a plot rather than the characters.  Paul Schrader’s “Raging Bull” is standout here with De Niro as Jake LaMotta.

 Believability.  Even in the case of non-fiction, this can be a problem.  Sensationalized events, over-the-top characterizations, and other forms of “license” will quickly bring down a film.  For fiction, however, the challenge is more daunting as the temptation to stretch the plot and move to the extremes is greater.  “Bull Durham” is a bit guilty of pushing some characterizations to the margin, while “White Men Can’t Jump” does well here.    

 Plot Clarity.  “Eight Men Out” is a historical film, but no one of sound mind can possibly follow the plot.  The balance between being too simplistic on one end and too complex on the other is not always easily achieved in sports films. “42” pulled this off really well.  

 Dialogue.  We are back to balance here.  The dialogue has to be sufficiently realistic to insure that the informed sports fan does not dismiss it as hackneyed, while it needs to be held at a level at which the intelligent non-fan can follow it.  The ones that fail here, usually fault on the dumbing down side.   

 Action Sequences.  This is among the toughest challenges in sports movies.  It is very difficult to capture the action in football, baseball, or other sports realistically.  Often the producer has to rely on actual footage to get this effect.  That, however, does not always work when characters in the film need to be visible.  That Robert Redford was athletically gifted greatly enhanced the impact of “The Natural,” though the special effects may stretch one’s credulity.

 Setting.  Many films are period pieces, ushering the viewer into a previous era.  A lot can go wrong here.  “61,” though good, does not match the authenticity of “Hoosiers,” for example.

 Cast.  The cast needs to be a mix of well-known and lesser known thespians.  “An all-star cast” makes the plot a mere prop for the cast members, while a very secondary collection of actors can bring down the quality and believability of the film. 

 ESPN ranked the Top 25 Sports Movies from 1979 through 2004.  Here is the link. (http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/espn25/story?page=listranker/bestmoviesresult.   When you look at that list, keep in mind some good sports films have been made since (“42,” “Moneyball,” etc.), while films like “Bang the Drum Slowly” pre-date the birth of ESPN.  Nonetheless, the list should make for some interesting discussion.

Dr. Claerbaut is the Founder of www.faithandlearningforum.com.

[37]  The “Major League” Trilogy

by David Claerbaut

The trilogy of “Major League” movies invites comment, as they are common staple filler on the MLB network.  Hence, these dated films are consistently presented to a fresh TV audience. 

Their success seems to reside in the quality of the cast, the clarity with which the characters are drawn, and the persistence of much of the cast through the three films.  The latter is key as it creates a sort of continuing comedy/drama for the viewer. 

Charlie Sheen, Corbin Bernsen, Tom Berenger, and Bob Uecker are pivotal figures.  Sheen is a caricature perhaps of Mitch “Wild Thing” Williams, with Bernsen a prima donna third baseman, Berenger a gimpy-kneed catcher, and Uecker a sarcastic play-by-play man.

The setting is Cleveland, although the bulk of the original film was shot in Milwaukee.  In the initial movie, the hapless Tribe struggle early but then, as is so often the case in films like this, the team makes a run for the title.  Interestingly, there are two endings to the picture, one for the original movie and another for the DVD version.  Oh well.

The original movie (1989) debuted at #1 and was well reviewed overall, giving rise to a sequel that returns Sheen, Bernsen, and Berenger.  Once again, the team starts slowly, only to forge ahead and find its way into the World Series.  This turkey, however, was devoured by the critics.  In the third “Back to the Minors” effort, Uecker and Bernsen return, while Sheen and Berenger do not.  In this one there is a shift to the Minnesota Twins and its minor league affiliate.  This one was also reviewed badly and crashed at the box office.

I like none of the films.  First, there is a tendency to stereotype characters—particularly evangelical Christians—such that they become buffoons rather than believable figures.  The clowning, one-dimensional treatment of Christians in film continues to be a problem for the faith and learning viewer, indicating the incredible religious ignorance of the writer(s).  Second, the comedic tone of the films is off putting.  It trivializes baseball itself (a sport rich with depth and one that I take seriously) as well as the plots.  The presence of Uecker all but guarantees over-the-top fare when he is freed from the restraints of simply relating the facts of a game to his viewers.  On the plus side, the action shots are quite good—Sheen having been a pitcher in high school—and effective.  Moreover, Uecker, as annoying as some viewers may find him, lends some authenticity, having been the play-by-play voice for the Milwaukee Brewers since 1971. 

If you like sports comedy, the original “Major League” will probably entertain you.  As often is the case, however, there is not enough cinematic grist left to justify a sequel, let alone a third attempt.  Evidently this was not lost on the critics and the masses, as the reviews and box office receipts indicate. 

The comedic issue merits some comment.  As raw comedy goes, the films do well, despite the stereotypical characterizations.  The real issue is why it is a comedy.  Again, this is a put-off for the serious sports fan.  To turn a healthy buck, however, sports films often have to appeal to the non-fan.  In the case of “Seabiscuit,” for example, the viewer sees a well-developed period piece, along with a nicely integrated education in the sport of kings.   When a movie does not have a powerful story to tell, it is tempting to abandon substance and troll for laughs. 

“Major League” (and its offspring) has its funny moments, but for this viewer it is little more than the antics of a set of bizarre characters, set in the world of baseball.

Dr. Claerbaut is the Founder of www.faithandlearningforum.com.

[36]  Watching Movies Through a Christian Lens

by Mark Eckel

I gave to my students, having them address exactly why they had accepted certain convictions. They had to substantiate their positions from Scripture.  And parental were involved in the assignment.  As it turned out, the discussion between one dad and mom became a heated argument. It seemed they didn’t even agree about what was acceptable in their home. Mom thought strict controls were in order. Dad considered the whole issue to be overblown. What did it matter what kids watched?

In an NPR interview, Joseph Gordon-Levitt said, “We like to think, ‘Ah, it doesn’t matter what I watch, it’s all just harmless entertainment.’ And it’s not entirely true. Especially if you watch it repeatedly. I think that the stuff we watch does matter and it does work its way into the way that we see the world.” 

Gordon-Levitt’s perspective encompasses all consumed media. The NPR title strikes the right cord: “On Life and the Lenses We Look Through.”

Media, naturalistic materialism—all are largely antithetic to the biblical view, replacing creation with consumption.  Christian convictionsabout watching movies should be clear and concise. Here are five of mine.

1. Retell Human Experience–Good and bad, rebellion and righteousness are fully illustrated throughout Scripture (Judges, Kings). Clint Eastwood’s movie, “A Perfect World,” reflects God’s perspective: Humans are shown for what we are, inherently corrupt.  The good guys aren’t always so good and the bad guys aren’t always so bad.

2. Enjoy the Creation–God’s world is good (1 Tim 4:1-6). Movies like Ridley Scott’s “A Good Year” remind us what is important in this life.

3. Know Evil Without Participating in Evil–Believers must function in the society in which they find themselves (Lev 18:1-5). Stuck between the darkness of Egyptian mythologies and Canaanite deities, a movie like “The Mission” certainly gives a good example of what we are up against in this world.

4. Defend Truth, Goodness and Beauty–Declaring God’s work in all arenas of life is the believer’s responsibility (Ps 145:3-13).  “People Like Us” is a film focused on the goodness of family; and family might not be exactly who or what we expect.

5. Critique Worldviews–To expose other systems of thought by Biblical revelation is a necessary component in Christian apologetics (1 John 4:1). M. Night Shyamalan was having a crisis of faith when he wrote “Signs.”  Mel Gibson agreed to play the pastor who had lost his faith. 

Joseph Gordon-Levitt is right.  What we consume in culture influences how we think, how we live.  It is important for Christians to know why they watch movies. We might not always agree, but we should have established biblical principles that guide our decisions.

I felt bad about those two parents who had a huge fight in front of their son about convictions.  But in many ways it was good.

We need to understand how important forming convictions about what we watch will affect how we live. 

Dr. Eckel is second to none in reviewing movies from a Christian perspective here and on his website www.warpandwoof.org.

[35]  “The Beaver” (2011)

by Mark Eckel

I know people who have actually told me they get upset at the smallest things because nothing really bad has ever happened to them.  They have a good American life; no wants, no needs, no lack of support, no lack of friends, and no sense of empathy.  The Beaver is not for them.

“There is this black spot inside of me,” Walter Black (Mel Gibson) concedes.  The Beaver points the spotlight on that spot in all who deal with depression.  Each character, so well played by exceptional actors, has that place of emptiness, deep sadness, where the depth of inexpressible pain exists.  We are drawn in to a story that represents so much of what we feel and what we see in others around us.  Walter Black is depressed.  He has slept-walked through life for two years.  His wife (Jodie Foster) loves him regardless while struggling to maintain an existence with some semblance of family.  She expresses what everyone who has ever lived with someone else’s depression has felt—commitment to pain.  Pain is a character which is not listed in the cast list but appears in every scene.  Pain inserts its various shades of color across each personal palette.

Tagging, illegal spray painting on public buildings, represents the bold, bright colors of emotion in The Beaver.  People who cannot express themselves personally find their words in paint or in the words drafted for them by Walter’s son Porter (Anton Yelchin, Charlie Bartlett).  The screenwriter Kyle Killen allows both paint and Porter’s words to speak for Meredith (Tracey Lawrence, well known for her role in Winter’s Bone).  Killen’s sensitive, spry script walks the fine line of anguished hilarity.  Movies about mental illness can either feel like Freddy Krueger’s Nightmare or Pee Wee’s Playhouse: you know both exist and you’re pleased not to know either.  The Beaver is the perfect place to find the nuanced high-wire act necessary to span the space between patient and caregiver.  [I would highly recommend the film for group discussion though it might not be a bad idea to have a psychologist standing by.]  Mel Gibson’s performance is exquisite.  For all of Gibson’s off-screen imbroglios it is the entanglement of his own soul which is allowed full expression here.  Foster’s direction of her friend, after a 16 year hiatus from behind the camera, allows the scent of hope to rise from the mess of life.

For those of us who have experienced the deserts of depression—whether personally or with others—The Beaver is for us.  Exact scenes and specific lines will crowd your mind for days after you watch.  “You’re not alone in this” is what we say to those who suffer.  The famous bumper sticker suggesting stuff happens is short form of the long road we walk.  Moreover we surely agree with the opposite of the lie “everything will be all right.”  But it is a line from Ecclesiastes which exactly captures the essence of The Beaver: “What is crooked cannot be straightened.”  And so we live with remnants of goodness in the landscape of pain.  Some can find their way toward a sense of wellness with a hand puppet; but holding the hand of another who has experienced our pain gives us hope.

Dr. Eckel’s thought-provoking website is www.warpandwoof.org.

[34]  “Short Circuit” (1983)

by Mark Eckel

The story is entertaining. A military robot is struck by lightening, suddenly becoming human. The robot quickly gains knowledge and learns by experience. The child-like nature of the machine is contrasted with silly human responses. Ally Sheedy befriends the unusual creature protecting it from those she deems a threat. Steve Guttenberg, creator of the robot, falls in love with the Ally, she in turn allows her suitor access to the robot-now-human.

In a face-to-face meeting, scientist and science experiment dialogue. Earnestly seeking answers to how metal becomes man, Guttenberg’s character is amazed at his original creation. The military, unable to control their latest weapon, seeks to destroy the machine.

“They are coming to kill you,” says the scientist.

“Killing is wrong,” retorts the Robot.

“Who told you killing is wrong?” questions the scientist.

“I told me killing is wrong,” is the ethically charged response.

Without thinking about the 300 other people in the theater, I stood up, pointed at the screen, and said in a voice all could hear,

Robin, my embarrassed wife, is trying desperately to get me back in my seat. All the while I am fishing for paper and pen to write my thoughts. Back in my chair, Robin whispers in my ear,

“Can’t you ever stop thinking?!” 

The answer is the same after 30 years: No.

Early in my teaching vocation, I began to train students how to watch movies, how to write movie reviews. Since the early 1990’s, classes were watching full length feature films; interactive responses followed. We engaged Harrison Ford’s scientist who thought he could control creation in Mosquito Coast. We saw through the wrong-headed, romanticized educational views of human nature from Robin Williams’ Dead Poet’s Society. We countered errant truth claims resident during Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

If you ask my students now what they remember about my classes then, they will smile and say,

“He ruined watching movies for me forever.” 

Now adults, teaching their own children, students are now training their kids to think about what they are watching.

You can read my philosophy and educational approach but if you really want to know the end result of interpreting movies from a Christian point of view, ask my students.

And I bet you could even find a few people who would tell you,

“Yeah, I remember when this crazed guy stood up in the middle of the auditorium and talked to the screen.” 

I still talk to screens today.

Dr. Eckel is Professor of Leadership , Education, & Discipleship at Capital Seminary and Graduate School in Washington, DC.

[33]  Family Films

by Mark Eckel

“I get it Daddy!  Can we please just watch the movie?”

My daughter was eight years old.  We were watching the 1995 version of A Little Princess.  The father has purchased a teddy bear for his little girl as a keepsake. The dad hands the stuffed toy to the daughter. In a solemn moment, he looks deeply into his child’s eyes and says, “If you believe it, then it is real.”

I stopped the video and launched into a 60 second preachment about how this is impossible. No one can create reality. No one can simply declare that something “is” or “is not.”

We resumed the movie. The phrase “if you believe it, then it is real” was repeated. And I repeated my earlier comments, this time integrating Scriptural statements about God and His world.

I hit the play button. There it was again! The script called for a repeat of “if you believe it”!

I hit “stop,” opened my mouth to speak again, only to hear my daughter say, “Daddy. I get it. God made His world. Everything real comes from God.  Daddy? Can we please just watch the rest of the movie?”

I hit the play button again, without a word. But I smiled. My little girl had delivered her message, but she had clearly received mine too. Here, however, is why I hold to my conviction of watching with and commenting on movies with my children: “G” and “PG” rated movies are the “worst” movies for Christians to watch. Often, magic kingdoms or domains of darkness perpetuate pagan myth without critique. Pocahontas twists history, falsely caricaturing all European settlers as usurpers. The Little Princess reinvents reality. Pinocchio changes authorial intent: in the original book, the puppet was a bad little boy. Fern Gully subscribes to pure pantheism (nature is god). Movies such as Final Fantasy support the Gaia Hypothesis teaching that humans are one with the earth (the definition of “environmentalism”). No movie is beyond the scope of a faith and learning analysis.

Every movie has to have a moral theme.  Stories cannot be told without the tension of good and bad.  Some kids’ films, for instance, will find the basic goodness inside their characters, teaching that people are basically good (Kung Fu Panda).  The answer to “What is right and wrong?” can often be left up to the individual (Rango).  “Who knows best?” leaves the interpretation of knowledge up to a politically correct point of view (Avatar).  Then there is the question of God.

I once asked my then 3-year-old son, Tyler, about Big Bird and Ernie as he watched Sesame Street.  Then I asked, ”What did you learn about God in Sesame Street?” I inquired.  Tyler’s instantaneous response has never left me.  “I did not learn anything about God.  They did not talk about Him.”  It is not just what is being said in a movie or TV show; often it is what is left unsaid that matters most.  If God is absent in the program, a statement is being made. I do not expect that television or movies will center on the person or nature of God, but the presence or absence of something is a statement of belief.

Questions to ask concerning “family friendly films.” 

1. Do we use a 90 minute movie as a visual “baby sitter” without watching with our children?

2. Have we investigated the background to the story? Is the story the same in the movie as it was in the original book? If the original story changed, what point of view is being offered by the movie now? What does the change tell us about the studio’s or the director’s point of view?

3. What are the repeated ideas, quotes, or viewpoints that permeate the movie? Why is repetition important?

4. What visual images are prominent in the movie? Why do they matter?

5. Do we think about how much time watching a movie will take? Have we considered the review process necessary ahead of time? Are we ready to critique what we see and hear? Is there time for discussion before, during, and afterward?

6. How much does cultural pressure compel us to watch the latest movie everyone says is so good?

7. Do we condemn movies intended for children because they contain witches, magic, or other worldly creatures, whether “good” or “bad”? Why or why not?

8. How impressionable is the movie’s music on young minds?

9. What is our response to the statement, “It’s just a movie!”?

10. What makes the hero attractive in a children’s story? What attitudes are pleasing that draw children to a character? How much do feelings compel us to believe the lesson in any story?

Dr. Eckel teaches “Theological Foundations for Ministry” at Capital Seminary & Graduate School.

 [32]  “12 Angry Men” (1957)

by David Claerbaut

If you have never seen the movie classic, “Twelve Angry Men,” get it.  If you have, you might want to watch it again.  For the Christian thinker, this 1957 spellbinder by Sidney Lumet is rich with provocative insight.  So powerful is this film, that in 2007, it was chosen for preservation in the United States National Film Registry by the Library of Congress, as being “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant.” 

The late Roger Ebert listed “Twelve Angry Men” as one of his “great movies.”  The movie has been the subject of an assigned essay in one of my graduate courses.

The cast is star studded—Henry Fonda, Lee J. Cobb, Jack Klugman, Ed Begley, E.G. Marshall, Jack Warden, and Martin Balsam, among others.  The story is even better.

The twelve are a New York City jury, deliberating over the guilt or innocence of a low-income 18-year-old young man on trial for allegedly stabbing his father to death.  The trial brings out some of the worst of elements of human nature—judgmentalism, prejudice, selfishness, and hatred—among the twelve. 

These seemingly civilized citizens harbor many of the same dispositions as caused the murder over which they are deliberating.  Perhaps more important, the film shows how difficult is the true “journey to justice.”  What we deem as fair and normal is all too often corrupted by classism, racism, sexism, and other maladies.  Little wonder God has over 400 verses in scripture affirming his love and concern for the poor, and 70 more on justice. 

If you have never seen “Twelve Angry Men,” get it.  If you have, spend 96 minutes watching it again.  Although the language is clean and the actors are fully clothed, this film is as compelling an insight into the fallen human condition as any R-rated  counterpart of today, yet with a taste of redemption at the end.

Dr. Claerbaut is the Founder of www.faithandlearningforum.com

[31]  “Gone Baby Gone” (2007)

by Mark Eckel

Can a person be certain of what she does without afterthought?  Can life be lived without doubt?  Can lines be crossed, blurred, erased?  Answers to these questions are the essence of the profound, thoughtful film Gone Baby, Gone. Life is not made out of straight lines.A little girl is stolen from her mother.  All of Boston, indeed the nation, is tuned in.  Casey Affleck brilliantly stars as the missing person’s private citizen-detective who undertakes a behind-the-scenes investigation that ultimately brings the truth to light.  Every turn leads to more confounding, severe, and indecent information.  Uncovering putrid layers of human depravity, result in what one would consider the obvious conclusion.  But the end is far from over, leading right back to the beginning.

Morgan Freeman plays a police officer all too familiar with child kidnapping.  Freeman’s presence not only adds weight to the role but the topic itself.  Ed Harris is the lead detective on the case, himself a warrior against the long war of pedophilia.  Key to the movie’s theme is the conversation outside a hospital, as Harris’ and Affleck’s characters interact with the situation in which they find themselves.  Affleck’s character, confronted by a horrific discovery, is asked whether he would respond in the same way he did, had he the opportunity to do it over again.  The two draw lines in the sand as they express the central question of the film, “what would you do?”

[Spoiler alert] The whole movie pivots on that point—“What would you do given the same set of circumstances?”  Would you “off” the bad guy because of the awfulness of his crime, “turning a blind eye” to the apparent goodness of the lead officer in spiriting away the young child to a “better life”?  Or would you give the pedophile “due process” in the justice system, bringing the child back to her mother knowing full well the mother is a self-centered bitch whose concern for her child resonates only in adult self-interest and “15 minutes of fame”?

This film continues to haunt me.  It causes me to question the staked out claims of “liberals” and “conservatives.”  On the left, the normal emphasis is on the “good of the child,” “doing what is right at the moment.”  On the right, voices cry for “justice,” “law,” and “doing what is always right.”  The power of the movie is that the lines are crossed: justice/mercy, right/wrong, law/love are given their due course, and are then left hanging in the air.  Herein is the dilemma.  Standard revenge yarns use the colors of black and white on cardboard characters.  In Gone Baby, Gone writer/director Ben Affleck does to an audience what other movies do not: he gives us a palate and brush asking us to paint.

Solomon, perhaps the wisest man who ever lived by anyone’s estimation, recorded this sentiment, “What is twisted cannot be straightened” (Ecclesiastes 1:15; 7:13-14).  If there is a word that describes uncertainty and doubt about the vagaries of decisions in this life it is ambiguity.  Gone Baby, Gone is its synonym.

You can find much more from Dr. Eckel on at www.warpandwoof.org.   

[30]  “The Exorcist” (1971) and Christmas

by Mark Eckel

“The Exorcist”is by all survey accounts, is still ranked as the scariest movie of all time. A head-spinning, vomit-spewing, profanity-cursing, demonic-sounding 12 year old girl still leaves most film watchers retching in their seats.

Its writer, William Peter Blatty, in an interview with Terry Mattingly (in patheos.com/blogs/tmatt/2013/11/the-exorcists-taking-the-devil-seriously-for-40-years/) contended that the key to understanding the film is to understand the old priest who will perform the exorcism. The priest, Father Damien Karras, is the ultimate target of the devil’s attack. “The Devil is tempting him to despair, to doubt his own humanity,” as Blatty cites a centerpiece quote of the novel’s vision: “I think the point is to make us . . . see ourselves as ultimately bestial, vile and putrescent; without dignity; ugly; unworthy. And there lies the heart of it, perhaps. . . . For I think belief in God is not a matter of reason at all; I think it finally is a matter of love: of accepting the possibility that God could ever love us.”

Father Karras doubts the reality of demons, but he doubts more the reality of God’s love for sinners, including himself. Karras is not just a priest, but a Jesuit psychiatrist. The Father’s own psychoses are being tested as he grieves for his own mother’s death. Just like the priest, Blatty was working on “The Exorcist” screenplay when he received a phone call that his mother had just died. Blatty immediately made the connection: “I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to make a statement that the grave is not the end, thatthere is more to life than death,” he said to Mattingly. 

Blatty’s extensive research into exorcism convinced him the movie could compel people to see “that the spiritual world is real.” Demon possession, Blatty concluded, should drive moviegoers to confession.  “My logic was simple: If demons are real, why not angels? If angels are real, why not souls? And if souls are real, what about your own soul?”

After reading Mattingly’s interview, I immediately thought of John’s words.  “The reason the Son of God appeared was to destroy the works of the devil.” (1 John 3.8)  The devil tried to beat Jesus to the punch. Herod was following the devil’s plan to kill Jesus (Matthew 2). Herod sent his henchmen to do the devil’s work but God’s plan will never be thwarted.

Blatty’s screenplay “The Exorcist” represents the devil’s battle for human souls and his ultimate defeat, at the feet, of Jesus.  Blatty’s vision for “The Exorcist” screenplay is embedded in the gospel message. “The Exorcist” reverberates through hymn lines like “But still our ancient foe, dost seek to work us woe.” “The Exorcist” points us back to Jesus.

The horror of “The Exorcist” is the reason for Christmas. 

Dr. Eckel is Professor of Leadership , Education, & Discipleship at Capital Seminary and Graduate School in Washington, DC.

[29]  Movies and Common Grace

by Mark Eckel

She started the conversation.  “I could not help but notice you’re working on a presentation about movies.”

There is not much you can hide sitting next to others on a plane.

“That’s right. I am teaching a series on movies at my church.”

She was surprised. “That’s odd,” she was honest. “A church doing a series on movies?”

She paused, the smiled and asked. “So, what’s your favorite movie?”

It is inevitable. It’s the same question every time.

Why? Because most people who watch movies have favorite movies.

Stories may draw us together but movies make us sit down together. 

People are drawn together because we all have something in common. Theologians call it “common grace.” I think movies can be a great demonstration of common grace. Here is my definition: The goodness of all creation benefits all people. The Scriptural emphasis on God’s beneficence and goodness is seen in weather, language, discovery, agriculture, you-name-it. (Genesis 39:5; Psalm 107:8, 15, 21, 31, 43; 145:9, 15-16; Matthew 5:44-45; Luke 6:35-36; John 1:9; Acts 14:16-17; 1 Corinthians 7:12-14).

What do Christians have in common with all theater goers? Since pieces of truth exist in film because of God’s goodness within creation, the Christian recognizes cinematic merit in some movie stories.

Here are a few common grace issues and movies that go with each:

Anti-Bullying: Bully or Standing Up

Education: Teach or The Emperor’s Club

Redemption: Despicable Me or Seven Pounds

Anti-Racism: The Help or Mississippi Burning

Justice: 12 Angry Men or To Kill a Mockingbird

Place: The River or Places in the Heart

Life: Lost in Yonkers or Winter’s Bone

Providence: Forrest Gump or Simon Birch

I shared 10 common grace questions with the adult study at my church. These questions can be the basis for discussions with anyone, about any movie, any where, anytime:

1. What does the movie say about life that can be celebrated?

2. What does the movie say about life that can be critiqued?

3. How can common grace give opportunities for cultural engagement or evangelism?

4. What is the difference between enjoying life as a Christian and the unbeliever who enjoys life?  What would you say to someone who suggested Christianity is unnecessary?

5. Does a Christian approach to “common grace” teaching eliminate the need for Christ?

6. How do we make gospel connections to “common grace”?

7. Why not just make “Christian” movies? Why depend on hit-and-miss “common grace” connections from Hollywood? Why do we listen to anything that comes out of Hollywood any way?

8. Why do Christians and non-Christians share the same cardinal virtues such as justice, temperance, or wisdom?

9. Why do some movies “move” all of us?

10. How do we make sure that “common grace” is not simply used as an excuse for go-along-to-get-along with an unbelieving culture?

God is calling all people from all places, within all cultures, for all time to Himself through His Son Jesus.

Sometimes, He uses movies.  “Worthy are you . . . for You were slain, and by Your blood You ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God and they shall reign on the earth.” (Revelation 5:9-10)

If the Christian Story is true, it is true for all people, places, cultures, & times. And it doesn’t matter if you’re chatting with a seatmate on a plane or your next door neighbor.

Common interests in movies are markers of God’s common grace.

Dr. Eckel is second to none in reviewing movies from a Christian perspective here and on his website www.warpandwoof.org.  

[28]  “Star Wars and Belief” (2013)

by Mark Eckel

I asked the class: “Why?”  There is no “Why”!!

“What does Yoda’s statement to Skywalker mean?”

We had just seen a video clip from the movie The Empire Strikes Back.

“Skywalker wants to know a reason for what is happening,” one young voice proclaimed.

“Yeah.  ’Why?’ is a question of purpose,” another astutely observed.

I smiled.  The students were beginning to understand.  You mean,” I pressed the issue, “George Lucas who directed this film was telling us his story, his belief?”

Heads around the room nodded up and down.  “We should write Mr. Lucas a letter,” Dave offered.  ”We should ask him what he believes.  Maybe he would tell us how his belief became the basis for his film.”

So we did.  We wrote to Mr. Lucas.  We received a very nice reply from his assistant.  She told us that Mr. Lucas does not discuss his beliefs.  She thanked us for our inquiry and hoped we would continue to enjoy the Star Wars movies.

We waited ten years to hear the answer.  In the April 26, 1999 issue of TIME magazine, Bill Moyers interviewed George Lucas. Not one of my students, former or current, were surprised by the answers Lucas gave to Moyers.

LUCAS: I think it’s important to have a belief system and to have faith.

MOYERS: Some people have traced the notion of the Force to Eastern view of God–particularly Buddhist–as a vast reservoir of energy that is the ground of all our being.  Was that [a] conscious [decision]?

LUCAS: I guess it’s more specific in Buddhism . . . When I wrote the first Star Wars, I had to come up with a whole cosmology: What do people believe in?

MOYERS: Is Star Wars your spiritual quest?

LUCAS: Part of what I do when I write is ponder a lot of these issues . . . some of the conclusions I use in the films . . . “Trust your feelings” is my way into understanding the universe.

 “Trust your feelings” is what Luke’s father tells him to do.  With feelings there is no reason, there is no “why?”

My students had been right.  ”Buddhism” was the answer my students gave to my original question.  We had been studying what other people believed about life, belief, and story.  None of us, then or now, is surprised.

Everyone’s view of life comes out in their story, their statement of belief.  Our culture loves its beliefs wrapped in celluloid stories.

God communicates His Story in stories.  In fact, the Christian narrative runs from “once upon a time” to “happily ever after.” The Bible is the origin of all epic tales from the past.  Stories have the same elements as God’s First Story:

·         Good/Evil

·         Lost-Found

·         Road-Destination

·         Despair-Hope

·         Acceptance-Rejection

·         Beginning-End

Fee and Stuart answer Lucas in How to Read the Bible for All It’s Worth (Zondervan, 1982), answer Lucas.  “The Bible is God’s Story—a story that is utterly true, crucially important, and often complex.  It is a magnificent story, grander than the greatest epic, richer in plot and more significant in it characters and descriptions than any humanly composed story could ever be.”

Dr. Eckel has been using films since the 1980′s to teach Christian Life and World Studies and is frequent contributor to www.faithandlearningforum.com.

[27]  “42” (2013)

by David Claerbaut

The title is a number: 42.  For any baseball fan that is an easy number to identify.  It is the number of Jackie Robinson, who in 1947 desegregated baseball.  On that April day, the game finally was not all white.

Robinson, despite breaking in to the major leagues at 28, had a Hall of Fame career for the Brooklyn Dodgers.  His on the field brilliance was, however, secondary to his managing to maintain a turn-the-other-cheek attitude in the face of among the most vile and virulent racism, something he was directed to do by Branch Rickey, the Brooklyn Dodgers general manager who manipulated Robinson’s entry into major league baseball.  It was Rickey’s contention that any slip, any retaliation by Robinson, would be seized upon by his and Rickey’s adversaries as evidence of Robinson being unworthy of entrance into the great all-white game.  

42 is an exceptional film.  It is a period piece, crafted with uncommon skill.  The viewer indeed is taken back generations as she watches this incredible adventure that changed, not only baseball, but the United States forever.  Robinson broke through the color barrier of what was then the only true major league sport seven years before Brown v. the Board of Education. 

The film is rich, blending the power of relationships–Robinson’s loving marriage to Rachel Robinson; his close tie to some of his white teammates; and his victimization at the hands of teammates, opponents, and fans—with seminal events.

Harrison Ford steals the movie as Branch Rickey.  For the faith and learning viewer it is Rickey who brings Christ to the moment.  A devout Methodist, Rickey made no secret of his faith and how it informed his life.  Wily, incisive, and manipulative for good ends, Rickey’s character is reminiscent of brilliant yet homespun lawyers of that era as he maneuvers his way through the thicket of institutionalized racism in quest of desegregating the National Pastime and bringing championships to Brooklyn.

Despite the ugly cultural context, it is a “feel good” story.  The good guys win, but in a smarmy, sophomoric way.  The viewer is taken on a long and treacherous, yet gripping, journey that ends in culture-changing justice, one that send the viewer back in time yet forward in thought. 

Dr. Claerbaut is the founder of www.faithandlearningforum.com.

[26]  The Power of the Mystery

by Mark Eckel

Mysteries captivate our attention.  Gripping movie mysteries not infrequently win “Best Movie” Oscars.  We leave a theater overwhelmed with the power of a well-crafted mystery.  We stay up until the wee hours of the morning watching a television mystery which will not let us go.  Even television programs begin with a “hook” that compels the viewer to say “I’ve got to see what happens.”  Mystery is dependent upon an ending, a purpose, what the New Testament calls our telos. Telos is a Greek word to denote “meaning.”  Teleology is the study of finality.  How we get to our final destination answers the daily question, “Why should I get out of bed in the morning?”  But teleology forces us to consider ontology: the study of origins.  If there is an end, there must have been a beginning.  Here is mystery.  Where a story ends depends on how it begins.  Ontology and teleology depend on each other.  Our beginning and ending are inexorably linked.

“In the beginning God created” establishes our link to mystery.  Mysteries may be solved by the end of the movie.  But the ultimate answer to “Whodunit” is Who did it.  Mysteries will always be with us because mystery is built into reality.  Our world is premised on the unknown.  Creation is the first and continuing mystery.

“She took of its fruit and ate” extends our mystery to the grotesque.  Bent, gnarled, twisted, and ugly, humans will never run out of mysteries to solve.  The ugliness of sin begins in Genesis and runs right through us.  The mystery of creation now includes deformity.  Our ability to understand solutions to problems is skewed by our broken mirror Image.  Mystery is confounded by our duplicity.

So we are caught in the great in between: creation seems chaotic.  When we meet Frankenstein’s Monster or Dracula or Wells’ Beast Men we are repulsed.  We recoil.  At the same time we are drawn.  The mystery beckons us.  We run away by running forward.  We want to see but we cover our eyes.  We revel in the works of creation yet are shocked by its Eden ugliness.  Still, we want to know the mystery.

Mystery stories are a result of sin.  There is a need for One Mystery to solve the other.  The Mystery of salvation needed a human face.  There is a current, cultural belief that because life is mysterious, nothing can be known for sure; we must not make authoritative comments about anything in life.  A general sense exists that justice is elusive.  No one is in control.  God’s providence (in evidence throughout the book of Dracula, for instance) is absent from our vocabulary.  What has replaced a personal, caring Sovereign?  With no ethical boundary, anti-heroes arise liberated from authority and morality.

Perhaps Flannery O’Connor’s comment, “mystery is an embarrassment to the modern mind,” comes closest to our understanding.  Using words like “infinite,” “mystery,” and “wonder,” Maria Spiropulu, a University of Chicago experimental physicist stated that nature, albeit mysterious, unifies everything (Chicago Tribune Magazine, 11 January 04, pp. 12-16, 27.)

Unity “assures the wise person that the universe is comprehensible, and thus encourages a search for its secrets.  Furthermore, creation supplies the principle of order that holds together the cosmic, political, and social fabric of the universe.” Order, logic, energy, postulates, meaning, and morality exist because God Is.

Truth and mystery is a central component of God’s work.  “You cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things.” The creature cannot comprehend the wind’s origin or the intricacies of the human body.

So people must take seriously God’s activity.  The existential experience of the observer is crucial to mark the objective reality of action.  Only revelation brings understanding.  Human activity apart from divine proclamation “amounts to nothing.”  The idols created by Frankenstein, Dorian, or other horror novels are in words of Isaiah 41:29 “but wind and confusion.”

[22]  “Peacock” (2010)

by Mark Eckel

Curtains are a character in Peacock.  To begin, one notices the window shades are drawn but used for peeking.  Revelation then allows them to be thrown open.  But by the end the curtains are closed for good.  The metaphor of a life could not be more obvious.  Do we allow ourselves to look upon a world we fear will not understand us?  What do we do when the recurring images of our past keep us from outside light?  When we secretly peer out of our confinement, what do we watch, for what do we yearn?  How do we cover ourselves so that no one else sees who we really are, who we have become?  To what lengths will we go to maintain our individual identity and community equilibrium while hiding a secret that, were we found out, would plunge us back into the darkness?

The curtains open upon John Skilpa.  Our character is a shy, diminutive recluse.  His life has an unusual self-imposed, self-preservation order.  As the movie unfolds we understand that Skilpa’s traumas originate in childhood.  Up until recently, John has compensated his social reticence because of his mother’s care.  A year after her death, he dons not only her clothes but vestiges of that personality.  Psychologists call what we see on screen “dissociative identity disorder.”  John is played by Cillian Murphy who has crossed gender boundaries before (Breakfast on Pluto).  Cillian’s human features are transformed easily from a shorn, Nebraska cornhusker to a lovely woman.  While the town thinks John and his family a bit strange, all are drawn to Emma Skilpa.  When I watched this film with a group, one young woman remarked as Murphy’s female persona shows up for the first time, “Oh, she’s pretty!” not knowing what she was seeing.  I’m sure Peacock’s makeup artists would take a bow.

And let the curtain rise on the cast and crew.  Ellen Page heads a strong supporting cast (Susan Sarandon, Keith Carradine, Josh Lucas, Melissa Leo).  Bill Pullman is uncanny in his quirky role as a bank manager.  The set design reminds us that places, even houses, can take on a personality all their own.  Cheers to the producers for getting this movie made.  And Michael Lander’s direction is superb.

Lander is proud that Peacock is a difficult movie to categorize.  The aura of Hitchcock’s Psycho hovers about, making one think we will see “mother” at any moment.  But Peacock is different.  The tension of another Hitchcock classic Rebecca threads its unsettling thriller disposition throughout.  But Peacock is different.  Melodramatic “what-will-this-town-do?” ideals remind the viewer of Orson Welles’ The Stranger. But Peacock is different.  Filmgoers might bring to mind character-driven plotlines that mark the best of cinema such as Anthony Hopkin’s role in Remains of the Day.  But Peacock is different.  As difficult as it is to categorize so Peacock is indescribable.  Yet, one of my young friends with whom I saw the film for a second time simply remarked, “It’s the most humane movie I have seen in a very long time.”  If you find yourself thinking about this film for days and weeks afterward you have experienced the power of Peacock. But if you find yourself obsessed with your curtains, you may want to look in the mirror.

Rated PG-13 for disturbing themes concerning children and some violence.

[21]  “The Crazies” (2010)

by Mark Eckel

Imagine your average American small town farming community.  White picket fences, green fields, and red barns dot the landscape.  Without warning, red blood soaks the ground, turning the infected green, and fleeing faces are white with fear. How do populations respond to their own personal apocalypse?  “Fear thy neighbor” is the ultimate paranoia tag line making us wonder aloud, “Who can we trust?”  The remake of The Crazies brings homage to George Romero’s legacy but makes the audience speculate, what if WE are our own worst enemy?

Directing “The Night of the Living Dead” to “The Crazies” to “Dawn of the Dead” George Romero has been consistent in his outlook on human nature.  Romero asks the questions, “What if the monsters we are most concerned about are our neighbors?  What if WE are the monsters?”  Plying his trade during 1960’s upheaval, Romero bucks Hollywood conventions.  Harkening back to classic horror literature, Romero makes us fear ourselves, what things we are capable of, more than our fellow creatures clawing at the door.  Whether it be Shelley’s Frankenstein or Stevenson’s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde our real wonderment is not “why did this happen?” but “what have we become?”

Viewers are left to wonder “why?” and “how?” given only glimpses into governmental foul-ups.  We have seen it all before and Breck Eisner wants us to see it all again.  Directing a re-make is a tricky affair.  Eisner blends Romero’s keen conspiratorial insights with 21^st century life without missing a beat.  Tight, taut story telling unveils its secrets begrudgingly giving new meaning to the word “understatement.”  Not once will one think “Oh, come on!”  Instead, knowing more dreadful scenes face us, we grip the arms of our seats thinking “Oh, no!”  There is nothing campy about this horror flick.  Ordinary life is interrupted by extraordinary events.  Even on our best days we know it could all come crashing down around us.  Runaway bone-saws, the carwash ride from hell, and apocalyptic horrors all begin with a high school baseball game interrupted by a local teetotaler absent-mindedly carrying a shotgun onto the field.

Martial law adds to the madness when containment is broken.  Brutal, genocidal military response causes the conspiratist within us to wonder “what if?”  The virus makes our heroes run from their neighbors, second guessing themselves.  Timothy Olyphant (David Dutton) and Radha Mitchell (Judy Dutton) are the perfect couple for response and escape.  Tandem town sheriff and doctor, the protagonists lead us through familiar streets and lives.  Building a future over the years in an idyllic community is torn away in two days.

So while some scientific invention has yet again turned the world on its ear, the real question is how will WE respond?  Knowing we are our own worst enemy is more terrifying than the makeup artists’ onscreen gore displays.  Take away the government occupation and we are left asking the same question David asks of Judy, “Do you want me to try and save us or shall we just sit here and die?”

Rated R for some language, bloody gore, and intense sequences of terror.

Dr. Eckel’s site, warpandwoof.org is full of stimulating reading.

[20]  “Charlie Bartlett” (2007)

by Mark Eckel

This 2007 film shows us that children are incapable of being adults unless the adults abdicate their responsibility. The first-time writer (Gustin Nash) and first-time director (Jon Poll) of Charlie Bartlett would have us believe thata child’s problems can only be addressed by the children themselves.

The “children-as-adults” perspective is easy to display on screen when all the prominent adults are acting like children themselves. Robert Downey Jr. plays the soused principal who bears all the marks of a self-obsessed individual rather than an educator and father. Charlie’s mother (Hope Davis) is infantile. The viewer never fully understands why a mom would behave as she does; she too belongs in the playpen, having her “parent card” revoked.

What has come to be accepted as “the norm” in our culture, mirrored in Charlie Bartlett, is that children are wiser, more mature than their forebears. Charlie (Anton Yelchin) has been expelled from every private school his rich family can afford. Left with the option of public education, Charlie must now try to garner popularity from another new group, because, as he says in an unusual fit of discomfort, “What else is there to gain from high school?”

The lack of a father in the home may be an underlying reason for Charlie’s actions. Dad is in prison on tax evasion; Charlie has been left without male guidance. Whatever the desire for Charlie’s want of people to like him—driven home in the very first scene where we see Charlie’s deep longing for acceptance.

Charlie is accepted by becoming the school shrink. Having his own psychiatrist on call and knowing the teenage problems foisted upon him, in of all places the boy’s bathroom, he begins to peddle drugs and advice. Popularity for Charlie is an overnight sensation when the student body at his high school becomes strung out on Ritalin.

Perhaps it began with James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause, but we have seen Charlie over and over again in docu-mockeries of out-of-touch adults in a teenage world: evidence Ferris Bueller’s Day Off or Rushmore as patterns followed here.

• Do teenagers have problems? Well, who doesn’t?!
• Does psychiatry deserve a stick in the eye for its elevated stature in our society? Well, duh!!
• Do adults merit a spearing for their inattentive, blithe acceptance of childhood behavior? Well, obviously!

The first half of Charlie Bartlett is the movie’s strength. A good story is told simply by telling the story. The last half of the film, however, descends into discontented preachments (through Kat Dennings, playing Susan, Charlie’s love interest and principal’s daughter), triumphant songs of individualism (Cat Steven’s, a.k.a. Yusuf Islam, “If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out”), and an overthrow of the adult world by victorious, childish teenage hysteria. 

Watch the first 45 minutes of Charlie Bartlett for a laugh-out-loud skewering of all the powers that be. Even the teenagers are shown with foibles. If Nash and Poll had stopped there, the film would have been a success, pointing out all of our inconsistencies without needing a pulpit.

But Charlie Bartlett leaves us with the impression that adults don’t have a clue, so children must make it on their own. If the movie resembled anything close to reality, adult-child role reversal would have been laughable, not laughed at.

Rated R for crude humor, a suggestive sexual situation, brief nudity, and profanity.

[19]  “The Big Lebowski” (2010)

by Mark Eckel

The movie “The Big Lebowski” is the basis for some college coursework.  Yes, believe it or not, major universities offer classes based on television programs and movies.  Where cult films go, academics will follow.  Already in its second printing, “The Year’s Work in Lebowski Studies,” is an essay collection of “Big Lebowski” academic reviews. How could movies be the basis for campus education?  One word: relevance.

Thomas Sowell, arguably one of America’s most brilliant minds, has responded with an article entitled, “The Idiocy of Relevance” (Townhall Online 28 February 2003).  Dr. Sowell writes, “One of the many fashionable idiocies that cause American schools to produce results inferior to those in other countries is the notion that education must be ‘relevant’ to the students.”  Sowell continues, “Some educators embrace relevance out of expediency . . . It is the path of least resistance, though that path seldom leads upward.  By the time . . . students get out into the real world and discover the uselessness of what they were taught in ‘relevant’ courses, it is too late.”

Reading classic literature has historically been the basic ethics course educators have used to get their students ready for said “real world.”  Vigen Guroian, University of Virginia professor, wrote his own article (in action.org/publications): “Why Businessmen Should Read Great Literature.”  In it Guroian contends, “Great literature has the power to ennoble our lives by showing us how . . . to put ourselves in the other person’s shoes.  It . . . draws for us vital moral maps . . . with exemplary stories of . . . character, tested and forged in the furnace of the human comedy.”

So it was with some shock that I read in The New York Times a title that speaks for itself, “In Tough Times, The Humanities Must Justify Their Worth” (nytimes.com/2009/02/25/books/25human.html). The Times later ran an article “Making Colleges Relevant” (nytimes.com/2010/01/03/education/edlife/03careerism-t.html?ref=edlife).  Thankfully, the opposing view was given voice in the second installment.  Anthony T. Kronman, a professor of law at Yale wrote the book Education’s End: Why Our Colleges and Universities Have Given Up on the Meaning of Life.  Exploring “a life worth living,” Dr. Kronman, wants us to re-examine “what we care about and what we value,” a problem the humanities “are extremely well-equipped to address.”  The essence of a humanities education is reading the great literary and philosophical works, coming “to grips with the question of what living is for.”

Fully 25 years of my life has been given to teaching students from junior high through graduate school.  At times my education students came to me asking if they should take a methods course to be ‘relevant.’  My comment was always the same: the more content you know the better able you are to adapt to other methods.  As a researcher, writer, and teacher I am also a practitioner.  I want to make sure knowledge is not static, that it relates to real life and real people.  So, for me, it is absolutely ridiculous that universities have courses on the movie “The Big Lebowski.”  But it is absolutely imperative that our universities develop the Big Lebowski’s of our world. 

 [18]  “Moneyball” (2011)

by David Claerbaut

Movies are almost never as good as the books on which they are based.  The reason is that the movie is almost invariably a condensation of the book.  It has to be, because the movie needs to contain the story within at most 120 minutes, while the book can wend on for half a thousand pages.  “Moneyball” is no exception.  It is not as good as the book by Michael Lewis (2003).  But it is very good.

The essence of the book and the movie is the application of sabermetrics (the scientific analysis of baseball statistics) to real-life, real-time baseball management.  Sabermetrics became part of popular culture when stat guru Bill James began publishing his annual Baseball Abstract in the late ‘70’s.  Starting as a self-published, seemingly arcane effort, James eventually hit a critical mass of followers and by the end of the 1980’s his annual abstract was a bestseller, its springtime publication eagerly awaited by fans nationwide, this writer among them.

Despite its grip on the baseball public, practitioners of sabermetrics were left on the outside of the baseball corporate system, the lords of the summer game never being known for their love of scientific inquiry.  In short, tobacco-chewing bromides and conventional wisdom governed the culture.  Finally, however, a young man named Billy Beane–a once hot major league prospect who fell far short of expectations–became the general manager of the moribund and cash-strapped Oakland A’s and after losing three cornerstone players to free agency and needing to stock his roster with ‘bargains,” decided to apply sabermetrics to the operation of his franchise.

The movie does well in capturing the youthful Beane (played by Brad Pitt who all quite amazingly may not be as handsome as the person he plays) as he somewhat diffidently reshapes the A’s roster with hitters who get on base or hit for power (rather than have high batting averages) and pitchers who win and throw strikes rather than blow the ball into the catcher’s mitt at the speed of sound.

In practice, this meant releasing popular and “established” veterans in favor of less proven types who fit the sabermetric mold.  Much is made of the differences between Beane and his field manager, Art Howe, who is portrayed as a near caricature of old school thinking, likely unfair to Howe.  But so it goes in movie oversimplifications.  Beane aims high.  Early on we hear of his ultimate goal: To win the last game of the season (meaning the World Series).

The team gets off to a dreadful start, and the divorced Beane is regularly asked by his adoring and adorable little daughter whether he is going to be fired (as the sportscasts at the time seemed to be implying).  His assurances ring hollow as the A’s struggle.   Then suddenly the impact of Beane’s gutsy decisions kick in and the A’s take off on what becomes a magical summer of baseball en route to a league best 103-59 season, including a 20-game winning streak running from the last part of August through early December.

The movie is well done with the actual major league baseball action and ambience realistic.  Because the 2002 A’s story itself was so genuinely exciting, the producers did not have to use any dramatic silicone to buff out the story.  What makes the movie much more than a baseball story is that the viewer gets a clear look inside the driven Beane, as he ruminates over his roster, wheels and deals frantically, and then nervously avoids watching the actual games because he is helpless once the action starts.

The magical carpet ride ends in the first round of the playoffs as the A’s fall in five games to the Minnesota Twins, but sabermetrics clearly had broken through.  Bill James became an established consultant to the Boston Red Sox, a team that two years later in 2004 won its first World Series since the days of Babe Ruth in 1918.  At the close of the film, Beane is lured by the wealthy Red Sox owner, John Henry, to take over as GM of the Bosox, but at the last instant opts to continue by the Bay where the money is thinner and the challenge greater.

It is foolish to try to force an overt Christian perspective into the movie, but through the character of Beane, it does have its inspiring aspects.  He comes off as a genuinely caring divorced father who maintains a more than civil relationship with his former wife and her new husband.  He is compassionate in his treatment of players he has to release, remembering the disappointment of his own career, and he shows he cannot be bought in the money-driven world of baseball, even by the well-meaning owner of the Red Sox.

For Beane, the 2002 season does end in a bitter defeat—a loss in the last game of the season.  For the A’s, however, it is still a triumphant season.  For the viewer, “Moneyball” is an enjoyable night at the movies.

Dr. Claerbaut is the founder of www.faithandlearningforum.com.

[17 “Act of Valor” (2012)

by Mark Eckel

 It is important to say this from time to time: shed blood makes us free. It might seem that my blog will take a theological turn at this juncture, but no. Shed blood makes us free citizens. The movie Act of Valor reminds American citizens who we have to thank for our freedom. Act of Valor portrays real Navy Seals not Hollywood actors. If you have missed it on the big screen make sure to see it on DVD. It is important to promote a positive image ofU.S. soldiers.

I am tired of news reports I hear every week from main stream media outlets which talk only about our soldiers as recovering from psychological distress, physical wounds, or maladjustment back into American life. These reports must never be brushed under the rug. However, to only hear about one side of the results of our war against terrorism is a treasonous debilitation of our national and military spirit. Negative attitudes strip us of resolve and embolden our enemies. I want to hear about Medal of Honor winners. I want to hear about battlefield victories against our enemies. I want to take note of how warriors keep us free. If all we ever notice about our armed forces is that they suffer, then we will soon know what it is like to suffer without troops to maintain our freedom.

I do not speak as one who has gone to war. I speak as one who is grateful for those who have and do. The American military is a volunteer force. MyU.S.military veteran-students tell me that they signed up for military service because they love their country. When they went into battle, they say, they added to love-of-country, love of their buddy next to them.

Recently I was addressing a high school audience on vocation—a student’s life calling. I used the military as the basis for my introductory remarks. Some folks are born to fight, I said. They love the adrenaline rush of combat. And what they do, allows us to go to school without worrying that we will have to dodge AK-47 rifle fire or rocket-propelled-grenades. I was surprised by what happened next: spontaneous applause. Students were clapping out of gratitude for freedom and the soldiers who keep them free. These 400 students in central Indianahave seen family and friends off to war. They have seen heroism first hand and do not take it for granted. Act of Valor is a movie that will make you thank your family and friends who have served. Act of Valor will make you proud to be an American. And Act of Valor will remind America on Memorial Day and every day that shed blood keeps us free.

Dr. Mark Eckel can be heard frequently on Moody radio.

[16] “The Thin Man” (1934)

by Mark Eckel

In 2011 we have a certain viewpoint about movies.  Young people in particular view film as embedded within our cultural life. The question folks ask today is never, “What is the last book you’ve read” rather the query becomes, “What is the last movie you’ve seen?”  So it may come as a surprise to many teenagers and young adults that books (still) generate the basis for much of what has come to the big screen over the last century.  Books form the genetic DNA for subjects of study, frameworks of thought, characterization, atmosphere, and an overall understanding of what it means to live as a human.  And since human nature has not changed, neither has the basic construct of how we think about life.  We depend on a certain order, a way of thinking which has preceded us and will exist past us.  Living in another era of time, the person long since deceased, does not make one old or boring.  Every individual has had to deal with the same heartaches and joys, difficulties and successes, confrontations and conversations which have been ongoing since our creation.  Mystery, drama, and comedy are timeless human engagements: the reason why we can find such pleasure in a film from 1934, The Thin Man.

Dashiell Hammett, who wrote a slew of detective style who-dun-its, penned the book which marks the movie’s title.  William Powell and Myrna Loy make Hammett’s dialogue pop as their winning performances make plain.  One of the reasons why audiences have loved this and the six other films in the series is because of the spectacular repartee these two brilliant artists produce.  I would argue that there are few Hollywoodactors who could create and sustain such a marvelous work of art over such a short time with the kind of dialogue which exists between Powell and Loy.  To people in the 30’s and 40’s, Powell seemed as if they were husband and wife, their work together on screen was so seamless.  But the co-stars were very good friends; their enjoyment of each other produces a synergy which makes their performance in a class by itself.  Most every other husband-wife detective team on big and small screen in some way finds their origin in the persona of Nick and Nora Charles.  Indeed, even their ever present Terrier has since set the standard for animals and their trainers.  The director, W. S. Van Dyke, would go on to direct four of the Thin Man films.  Directors like Van Dyke were important in an era that depended on a sustained plotline to carry a film.  In this case storyline is augmented by virtuoso cast performances and a playful enjoyment of love and life.  Unlike Hollywood today, films were dependent upon a salaried actors and quick production.  The Thin Man, for instance was created in just 14 days.

Whether a movie takes months or days, the audience resonates with the ultimate issues resident within The Thin Man: thievery and murder.  Yet, within the sordid montage of every day crime we find every day people.  Folks have not changed.  The guilty want to cover their wrongs.  The innocent want to get out of the way.  The police want to arraign a suspect.  And then, there are some who simply want to be left alone to party.  Nothing much has changed from 1934.  Our humanness shows up every place.  The key to watching older films is to remember not much has changed.  We humans are still the same.  So we love movies like The Thin Man, because in it we see the world around us and we see ourselves.

Rated PG for drinking, smoking, violence, and sexual innuendo.

Dr. Eckel is Scholar in Residence at Providence Center for Urban Leadership.

[15] “Take Shelter” (2011)

by Mark Eckel and Anna Drehmer

 Adam is clairvoyant. He has a sense about people. Aware of mood and feeling imperceptible to most, Adam seems to be an emissary of empathy. Having worked with mentally challenged—especially autistic individuals—he is a translator, one who understands both worlds: ours and theirs. Deep sensitivity in combination with altruistic motives, communicated with careful words, is a gift. American culture generally has been slow in recognizing human differences. Real emotions are sidestepped or their depth unappreciated.

The movie Take Shelter is an appreciation of unseen conditions, their connections made possible by one person. Michael Shannon’s exceptional performance offers a window into the soul of a man whose personal life may well have benefited others if only those without his gift world have listened to his interpretation. Take Shelter is itself difficult to interpret, eliciting responses to themes of human personhood and superhuman reality. Those who have grown up around others battling mental illness all too well appreciate psychological-emotional suffering.

The viewer obtains a glimpse into the difficulties of depression, schizophrenia, diagnosis difficulties, drugs, and institutionalization. But most importantly Shannon’s character Curtis is misunderstood, and so, marginalized. Curtis’ secretive reaction to his condition is understandable. [Heritability—wondering if one’s life would somehow be made null and void by such an affliction—is a real fear.] Those closest to Curtis give their best effort to give him space. But Curtis’ personal sense of apocalypse creates havoc for all around. Little by little Curtis loses hold to physical and emotional reality. Each film sequence expertly builds on the next; each actor enters their scenes playing roles it seems they were born to. Jessica Chastain deserves special mention. Samantha (Chastain), Curtis’s wife, shows true compassion in the midst of growing apprehension, while maintaining love’s commitment.

The whole of the movie is outstanding and beyond simple reportage. Exceptional writing draws taut drama. Reality defies labeling and life is full of complexity, realized through the skilled storyline written by Jeff Nichols. 20 years has passed since penning his sensational School Ties, speaking on behalf of ethnic differences. Dismissing the differences of another person, even those with a diagnosed mental illness may cost a great deal in the end, including Take Shelter’s final scene which the viewer will not soon forget. Are Curtis’ visions pointing to something real? Or is he beginning to battle schizophrenia like his mother before him? Could both can be true? Others, different from ourselves, have insights to share with the rest of the world, insights which our world would be wise to consider. All people have something unique and valuable to contribute. Remnants of glory, broken shards of a mirror, still fulfill their duty, offering reflection in the dark where others need light. Human brokenness is indicative of the human condition.

Each person dispenses a knowledge others need. So humanity is in need of interpreters; special interlockers, who can see what the rest of us cannot see, interpret with other eyes. We need the Adam’s and Curtis’s of this world. Rated R for some language, violence, disturbing images, and emotional complexity.

Dr. Mark Eckel and Anna Drehmer are contributors to www.warpandwoof.org. 

[14] “Foster the People” (2011)

by Mark and Tyler Eckel

 Foster the People created an instant classic. Tone and tune zip-line the listener into a teenage world where rejection turns to revenge. “Pumped Up Kicks” joins Pearl Jam’s “Jeremy” as the anti-bully song. Bullying has come to the forefront of education over the past decade. Bully, a 2011 documentary, shows on screen the horrors of everyday life in any public school. Anti-bullying laws have been passed in various locales as a result of educators’ initiatives. For the thousands of kids who quiver going to school every day, a movie now joins pop music in response to social mistreatment—Chronicle.

Andrew Detmer (Dane DeHaan) plays the high school kid everyone wants to abuse. His father beats him verbally and physically at home. Kids at school hammer Andrew for no reason. Girls ignore him. Andrew is the universal poster child for teenage taunting. Only one barrier stands between Andrew and his rough reality. He takes his camera everywhere. The camera captures what changes the lives of Andrew, Steve (Michael B. Jordan), and Andrew’s cousin Matt (Alex Russell). A non-descript other-worldly power source gives the trio new physical abilities. At first, the three revel in their new found traits. But soon Andrew discovers fresh opportunities for his powers. The bullied is about to turn into the bully.

Is it any wonder those mistreated in society end up mistreating society? Andrew becomes what he calls the ‘apex predator’, an organism at the top of the food chain: this becomes Andrew’s basis for morality. He considers himself to be above all others. Steve and Matt, on the other hand, recognize the boundaries. “Don’t you see this is wrong?!” they beg; but Andrew remains unrepentant. Andrew is unable to realize that others care about him, having been treated so poorly for so long. In a moment of clarity Andrew acknowledges “the thing had a power he could not control.” But Andrew cannot sustain any altruistic motives. He takes justice into his own hands. The evolution of Andrew’s character is the story’s centerpiece.

Josh Trank (director) collaborated on the story with Max Landis. First timers both, Trank and Landis take a cast of relative unknowns and some fantastic special effects to engineer a thoughtful tale. Reminiscent of other films (think a combination of Cloverfield, Blair Witch Project, Medussa Touch, and Full Metal Jacket), Chronicle asks probing questions. What happens when one is capable of controlling his world? What is it within a human being that understands responsibility comes with power? What psychological impact does abuse have on a teenager?

The origin of Andrew’s mysterious power is unimportant. Chronicle asks society to consider its impact on the bullied and his retaliation on society, whether armed with superhuman abilities or a handgun. Forcing one’s will on another can transform a superman into everyman’s worst nightmare. A world without transcendent order, without a moral center, cannot hope to control supermen, turned human monsters. Foster the People, then, leaves us with our only alternative: run faster than the bullet.

Rated PG-13 for language, violence, and disturbing images.

Dr. Mark Eckel, and his son, Tyler, contribute to www.warpandwoof.org.  

[13] “Raising Helen” (2004)

by Mark Eckel

What is most important to you? Is it your job where you labor on behalf of an institution? Is it your life where you labor on behalf of yourself? Or is it your family where you labor on behalf of others? Often culture stresses self over others: we should be happy. Reality screams, on the contrary, that fulfillment not happiness may be our best end. No one ever gets all they want in this life. Yes, some will attempt to tie importance to stability or comfort. The problem with the first suggests a risk-free zone; the problem with the second implies an others-free zone. Sometimes movies rise above a pie-in-the-sky approach to living, placing the proper accent on what is important. Raising Helen both raises the question and rises above the fantasy.

Romantic comedies—or ‘rom-coms’—are the perfect form to address hard questions. Levity is the coat worn by difficult discussions. Laughter lightens the heavy moment. If people are smiling while the movie is preaching, all the better. A. A. Milne said it best, “Comedy plays close to the white hot fire of truth.” Mixing comedy with romance allows the filmmaker a perfect vehicle for love relationships. Tense situations are overcome with a grin. Problems are met with solutions dipped in humor. Viewers also relate to story where possibility exists: and love is a universal language. Of course critics loathe rom-com movies which bear the mark of cliché. Raising Helen is gifted with every formula the critics hate and audiences love. We like simplicity in our characters, we resonate with situations like ours, predictability is what we like because stability is what we need, and a happy ending is what everyone wants.

In Raising Helen loves’ focus shifts from self to others. We, the audience, unconsciously participate in the anguished-angst of a character much like ourselves. “I can live my life more easily if all I need worry about is myself” is an honest statement if we are honest with ourselves. Everyone resonates with such a conclusion: and everyone knows the conclusion is wrong. We also know that our lives are not so cloistered. Life is shared with folks for whom we bear responsibility. Deep down in each one of us there is a voice, sometimes stifled, other times released: “You know you should be a better friend, spouse, sibling, caregiver than you are” we hear in our conscience. Raising Helen unplugs our ears.

We need movies which depict our self-centeredness. Actors Joan Cusack, Helen Mirren, Hector Elizondo, and John Corbett help lift the mirror, exposing our narcissism. Director Garry Marshall has given us a laundry list of wonderful others-centered love stories (Beaches, Princess Diaries, Valentine’s Day, New Year’s Eve) and that love story to beat all love stories, Pretty Woman. Kate Hudson reprises her mother’s role in a similar Marshall movie Overboard while Corbett plays one of the few positive pastoral roles Hollywood has offered in the last few decades. Without a sermon it is the pastor who points out what is important in life. The break-up is the set-up for true love.

Rated PG-13 for sexual dialogue, some language, and some adult situations.

Dr. Eckel is Scholar in Residence at Providence Center for Urban Leadership.

[12] “The Beaver” (2011)

by Mark Eckel

I know people who have actually told me they get upset at the smallest things because nothing really bad has ever happened to them.  They have a good American life; no wants, no needs, no lack of support, no lack of friends, and no sense of empathy.  The Beaver is not for them.

“There is this black spot inside of me,” Walter Black (Mel Gibson) concedes.  The Beaver points the spotlight on that spot in all who deal with depression.  Each character, so well played by exceptional actors, has that place of emptiness, deep sadness, where the depth of inexpressible pain exists.  We are drawn in to a story that represents so much of what we feel and what we see in others around us.  Walter Black is depressed.  He has slept-walked through life for two years.  His wife (Jodie Foster) loves him regardless while struggling to maintain an existence with some semblance of family.  She expresses what everyone who has ever lived with someone else’s depression has felt—commitment to pain.  Pain is a character which is not listed in the cast list but appears in every scene.  Pain inserts its various shades of color across each personal palette.

Tagging, illegal spray painting on public buildings, represents the bold, bright colors of emotion in The Beaver.  People who cannot express themselves personally find their words in paint or in the words drafted for them by Walter’s son Porter (Anton Yelchin, Charlie Bartlett).  The screenwriter Kyle Killen allows both paint and Porter’s words to speak for Meredith (Tracey Lawrence, well known for her role in Winter’s Bone).  Killen’s sensitive, spry script walks the fine line of anguished hilarity.  Movies about mental illness can either feel like Freddy Krueger’s Nightmare or Pee Wee’s Playhouse: you know both exist and you’re pleased not to know either.  The Beaver is the perfect place to find the nuanced high-wire act necessary to span the space between patient and caregiver.  [I would highly recommend the film for group discussion though it might not be a bad idea to have a psychologist standing by.]  Mel Gibson’s performance is exquisite.  For all of Gibson’s off-screen imbroglios it is the entanglement of his own soul which is allowed full expression here.  Foster’s direction of her friend, after a 16 year hiatus from behind the camera, allows the scent of hope to rise from the mess of life.

For those of us who have experienced the deserts of depression—whether personally or with others—The Beaver is for us.  Exact scenes and specific lines will crowd your mind for days after you watch.  “You’re not alone in this” is what we say to those who suffer.  The famous bumper sticker suggesting stuff happens is short form of the long road we walk.  Moreover we surely agree with the opposite of the lie “everything will be all right.”  But it is a line from Ecclesiastes which exactly captures the essence of The Beaver: “What is crooked cannot be straightened.”  And so we live with remnants of goodness in the landscape of pain.  Some can find their way toward a sense of wellness with a hand puppet; but holding the hand of another who has experienced our pain gives us hope.

Rated PG-13 for some profanity, sexuality, and the disturbing images of mental illness.

Dr. Eckel is Dean of Undergraduate Studies at Crossroads Bible College, Indianapolis, Indiana.  His website, warpandwoof.org is filled with thought-provoking prose

[11] “50/50” (2011)

by Tyler Eckel

Adam is fit and neat. He also has a cancerous tumor surrounding his spinal cord. His chances of survival, as the title says, are 50 percent. The movie takes place over the course of his diagnosis and treatment and relates how Adam deals with relationships during illness maybe more than about how Adam deals with illness itself. He leads his altered life with poise and clarity, while girlfriend, best friend, mother, and therapist have greater difficulty with, and more voyeuristically interesting ways of, aiding him.

After an oncologist, whose only interest is the rare nature of the disease, diagnoses Adam, he recommends he see a therapist “whose field that is”. Adam sees doctoral student Katherine. He is her third patient, ever. Full of book learning minus experience, she describes Adam’s emotional experiences through psychological definition rather than listening to what he shares about his experiences. Over the course of their meetings there is a running element concerning her physical expression of sympathy, which feel to Adam as clinical as her therapeutic assistance.

Adam’s girlfriend, the less said the better, is a narcissist he finally dumps. Conversely his bumbling and self-involved best friend Kyle is most real with and sympathetic to Adam: he expresses his queasiness and anger and tries his best to console his friend with booze, weed, and women. He’s Adam’s confidant who, though self-involved, is aware he cannot comprehend his friend’s trial but sticks by his side through the duration.

Adam’s relationship with his mother is the most delicate. She is taking care of his father who has Alzheimer’s, yet desperately wants to be involved in Adam’s life and take care of him as her son. Adam uses her caretaking of his father as an excuse to exclude her from his life, though she obviously does and can care for him like only a mother can. For various reasons, one of which is his being a grown man, Adam excludes her from his life till the end when he expresses his deep love and need for her.

Adam’s friends in chemotherapy are his buddies in the trenches. They understand the sadness of their shared condition. But their will to rise above their illnesses and appreciate the life left to them raises Adam’s spirits during their time together.

50/50 shows clinical therapy in the light of the therapy of the macrocosm of life that also includes the psychologist’s couch. Clinicians can diagnose and name. But the sympathy for another in trials we can only imagine may be more important than knowing forms of symptoms and treatments. In imagining another’s specific suffering we can develop a contemplation of the human condition from which may arise true empathy within the shared suffering of being human. Adam stalwartly perseveres in his stricken life mostly despite the messy care of others. The immanence of death finally shakes Adam to the core. It is then he learns what care is and to accept it as love, messy as it is.

Rated R for pervasive profanity, sexual content, and drug use.

Tyler Eckel is a free-lance writer from Indianapolis.  Tyler has been writing with and editing his father, Mark’s work for years.  You can contact him at eckel.tyler@gmail.com.  

[10] “Ron Burgundy” (2004)