god is not elsewhere

The Removal Van has Left the Building

2009-03-23T20:59:00.001Z

Hey friends - This blog has moved to

www.godisnotelsewhere.wordpress.com

Thanks for being with us...

'Watchmen' Re-visited

2009-03-12T18:43:00.002Z

Fig.1: The Point of the Film

Imagine a world in which a human being developed god-like powers and put them to military use. War might soon be a thing of the past - although a lot of people might die to prove it. Imagine this world also tolerating people who dress up in costumes to avenge crime, before, as worlds often do, turning its back on these vigilantes in search of another scapegoat on whom to project its hunger for violence. Imagine a world in which some people actually thought about the consequences of these things.

This is the world of ‘Watchmen’, one of the most serious and elegant graphic novels ever written. This is not the world of ‘Watchmen’, one of the most talked about movies ever made.

In the moral universe of the novel, co-created by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons as a meditation on power at the height of the Cold War, Richard Nixon is, in 1985, the apparently permanent President, celebrity and industry have struck a devil’s bargain with politics and militarism, the streets run dark red with the aftermath of the shattering of community bonds, and vigilantism is an inevitable outworking of society’s sickness. The costumed avengers, as they call themselves, have been banned from their activities, Nixon having made masks illegal (which gives you a sense of the knowing ironic tone of the book); most of them have retired, happy to be left alone, but quietly grieving a previous life so exciting that it can’t be compared to what they have now.

One of them is the god-like being – Dr Manhattan – who is introduced to the world with the headline: ‘The Superman exists and he is American’ (Later a colleague clarifies the intent, revising his statement thus: ‘God exists, and he is American’. He offers words of comfort to anyone who feels terrified by such a sentiment, saying that their fear is merely an indication that they haven’t lost their minds entirely.) This telegraphs the heart of the book: when power is treated as right rather than privilege, when violence is assumed to be the path to peace, when people define themselves primarily as nations rather than a global community, and when sexuality is wrapped up with force, you get perpetual war.

The book is utterly fascinating, bleak, and serious.

The film gets the second part right. It’s bleak. Bleak as hell. And I mean that as literally as I can. In the moral universe of the ‘Watchmen’ movie all reflective thought is banished in favor of an astonishing visual setup – one of the most stunning-look films ever made turns out to be also one of the biggest missed opportunities. Is violence inherent to human nature? Do people always default to selfishness? Does fame depend on the exploitation of others? In what sense does the love of money lead inexorably to the destruction of community? These, and many other questions are left quietly alone; allowing the movie to indulge its (admittedly talented) director’s taste for showcase thuggery. You’ve never seen blood flow like you do in this movie.

In spite of some good casting alongside the quite brilliant photography and art direction, the film is a far cry from the somber philosophical text on which it’s based. Moore has said that, among other things, he wanted to explore what ‘a Batman-type, driven, vengeance-fuelled psychopath would be like in the real world’. Clearly the authorial intent was to ask serious questions about how we allow violence to be done in our name. Yet the film presents this ‘Batman-type’ character in such a manner that at the first screening I saw, when he carried out an horrific act of violence, the audience applauded. I don’t think the film-makers were being ironic. When the story in the novel climaxes with a ‘kill a few to save a lot’ ending, we may be supposed to wonder if there might just be a better way to bring peace than to commit genocide. But the film doesn’t have enough heart to make us care about the future of humanity. It’s a color photocopy of the source novel – a clone without a soul. ‘Watchmen’ (the novel) aims to tell the truth about violence; but the film wants us to be excited by it. In a world with vengeance-fuelled superheroes running the show, people would be afraid to be afraid; but ‘Watchmen’ the movie made me feel afraid for how we often tell the story of human beings to each other these days. The book mourns how we so often see violence as a positive path. But the film celebrates it.

Fig.2: The Point of the Book

A Response to New Violence in Northern Ireland

2009-03-09T19:07:00.003Z

UPDATE 10.45pm: It's been reported that a police officer has been shot dead in Craigavon. Whether this is connected to the murders in Antrim is unclear. But I feel even more strongly about everything I wrote earlier today. There has never been any justification for the use of violence to achieve political ends in Northern Ireland; and for at least the last decade there has been no intellectual logic to even pretending such justification.

On Saturday night, two young soldiers preparing to go to Afghanistan were murdered in Antrim, Northern Ireland. Four other people, including two men delivering pizzas, were injured. The people who carried out the attack — members of a group that split from the mainstream IRA in the late 1990s — claim they were doing so to bring about a free Ireland. They make the callous claim that the pizza delivery guys were collaborating with what they consider to be the British occupation forces in Ireland.

It’s hard to know what to say in response, but let’s begin with a reminder of the political context.

In short, from 1997 onwards, after 30 years of civil conflict in which our society saw illegal paramilitary groups and British security forces engage, nearly 4,000 people were killed, 43,000 physically injured: we negotiated with each other.

The vast majority of Irish people, North and South, voted in a free referendum over 10 years ago to endorse the Good Friday/Belfast Agreement. The government of the Irish Republic supports this agreement. So does the government of the U.K. And the European Parliament. And the U.S. government. And the United Nations.

The agreement required serious and substantial compromise from each community; it was hard-won, and some of the costs of the agreement are still difficult to bear. It has brought about the release of all prisoners held for politically-motivated offenses; the reform of the police to the extent where a (U.S.) oversight commissioner pronounced it one of the most progressive police services in the world; the enactment of some of the most radical and humane equality and human rights legislation anywhere on the planet; and a power-sharing executive government whose very modus operandi includes neither Protestant/unionist nor Catholic/nationalist representatives from vetoing the other side.

Every community in Northern Ireland has had to compromise, and every community has gained. Our past is a broken one; we’re trying to fix it. The people who murdered the soldiers and seriously injured PIZZA DELIVERY GUYS on Saturday are motivated by a mixture of historical falsehood and the human tendency to blood lust, along with whatever personal stories may have forced them into thinking that violence is an acceptable path. They are wrong. And anyone who tries to justify this kind of act betrays the best of what it means to be Irish. I am left with feelings of deep offense alongside the sorrow I feel for the loved ones of those who have died, been wounded, and the rest of the people of my home, Northern Ireland, whose traumatic memories of the past have now been re-stirred. Including my own.

But angry rhetoric is not what we need right now. We need to assert something vital: that being northern Irish, or Irish, or simply human is never to be just ‘one thing.’ I am from Belfast, but you cannot easily put me in a political or religious box. Within the past two generations I have family ties to people from just about the widest demographic background possible in 20th century Ireland. Protestant. Catholic. Irish. British. Pro-state. Anti-state. Political. Apolitical. Bereaved. Suffering. Peacemaking. To those who would return to violence as a method for political action, I say: If you want to remove the British, you’d have to kill half of me. On the other hand, if you want to hurt the Irish, take the other half. If we’re honest, we may all find that our backgrounds grant us more in common with our supposed enemies than we usually think.

I am close to people who lived to see their loved ones murdered. The killing was done by Irish ‘rebels’ who believed they were trying to start a revolution, and by pro-British ‘loyalists’ telling themselves that they were trying to stop one. That’s over now. Or it’s supposed to be.

The people who killed two young men and shot four others on Saturday night may think they’re trying to get the revolution started again. They’re wrong. The revolution has already come. It came when our political representatives decided to forgo the right to revenge and negotiate a settlement in which nobody wins (except everybody) and nobody loses (except everybody). Because of this revolution, we can each have a stake in the future of our society; and the past can be addressed through nonviolent, non-punitive means. It has cost us a great deal. There can be no one who is totally satisfied with every aspect of the Northern Ireland peace process – I’ll gladly tell you what bothers me about it if you ask. But complaint, and much less revenge, won’t serve us – even as we are outraged at the weekend’s horror. For the larger truth is that while it has always been true that there has never been any justification for the use of violence for political ends in Ireland and Northern Ireland, today, and for at least the last decade, there can be no way of even pretending such a justification exists.

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? Hollywood Meets Tehran

2009-03-05T13:19:00.001Z

When there’s an international crisis, I know I’d prefer to have Annette Bening and Alfre Woodard on my side – strong women with a reflective presence. I'm not kidding. So it’s good to see that they’ve gone one step further than just talking about peace or acting in movies that make people feel good about themselves. Right now, they’re actually in Iran, along with some other senior members of the Academy, as part of what might be considered one of the highest level cultural exchange programs since Ronnie and Mikhail went for a walk by the Ellioaa River.

You may think I’m joking, but I’m not: we’ve been so used over the past few years to being told that the way to be good citizens is to be suspicious of the rest of the world and go to the mall that the notion of an artistic exchange between Hollywood and Tehran seems nothing short of, well, nothing short of the kind of thing people who want to nurture the bonds that are formed through aesthetic experience would do.

Hopefully – and presumably – the Academy people realise that the exchange should work both ways - Iranian film-makers have produced some of the most indelible and humane cinematic images of the past twenty years – Makhmalbaf’s ‘Blackboards’ nurturing the parallels between vagabond teachers and the birds that swoop above them on their treacherous journey through the mountains (see the astonishing image above for a taster of why there's almost nothing more evocative you could choose to watch tonight), another teacher in ‘09/11/01’ drawing a circle in the dust to represent the clock that allows her pupils to take a minute’s silence in honour of the dead in the Twin Towers, the various attempts by the protagonist to make and receive cell phone calls in a place where they don’t belong in Kiarostami’s ‘The Wind Will Carry Us’.

Predictably, the nation’s cultural captains have used the visit as an opportunity to denounce what they see as the decadence of US movies – I suppose I can understand people taking offence at the portrayal of Iranian forebears as barbaric in ‘300’ – though I was offended by that film’s vision of humanity itself as nothing more than a warrior species, whose bloodlust is not just to be celebrated, but seen as the better part of strength. But those images did not begin (nor will they end) with '300' (despite the fact that the myth of redemptive violence may have first been written down in that part of the world - have a look at The Epic of Gilgamesh).

And, come on, guys, if you’re going to be offended by the ‘Ayatollah’ character in ‘The Wrestler’ first spare a thought for spandex wearers, peroxide tinters, and stapler afficianados everywhere: the film is riffing on what got US wrestling fans riled in the 80s: are you seriously suggesting that having a guy dress up as an Iranian religious figure who gets his flag broken in a toy fight is less disturbing than burning an effigy of a US President? Could we not just agree that we’re all in this satire game together; and sometimes it goes too far?

But this is all bluster when compared to what I’d most like to see come out of the LA tourists’ visit to Iran: just as there is more to US cinema than cutting and burning, there's more to Iranian culture than the images evoked by President Ahmadenijad's public pronouncements. There’s a profound humanity to cinematic work that has emerged from Iran – whatever else happens as a result of Hollywood plus Tehran, hopefully some more of it will be seen.

Radio discussion on theology and homosexuality

2009-02-26T16:58:00.007Z

Interesting story on BBC Radio's Sunday Sequence this week - two guys talking about being gay, 'ex-gay', 'ex-ex-gay' and generally challenging how the Christian churches have treated them. The discussion will be available to listen to on-line til this Sunday.

Jeremy Marks, a man I've met and who is kind and gracious used to run a ministry called 'Courage', that believed it could offer gay Christians the opportunity to change their sexual orientation. Over time, he came to believe that this paradigm was unbiblical, bigoted, and contributed to the reasons why the rate of suicide attempts among young gay men is significantly higher than among men who aren't gay. In 2001 he made a public apology, and now offers 'Courage' as a space for 'gay and lesbian Christians who are seeking a safe place of friendship in which to reconcile their faith and sexuality and grow towards Christian maturity'. It's a remarkable shift - and Jeremy Marks is a remarkable man.

Michael Davidson, another man I've met, and who is also kind and gracious, has just established a ministry in Belfast called 'CORE' that appears to run on the same terms that Courage used to - offering space for gay and lesbian Christians who consider their same-sex attraction 'unwanted'.

Jeremy and Michael discussed their differing perspectives on the BBC; and what was extraordinary was how generous they were with each other. I disagree with Michael's theological perspective on sexuality, and it needs to be said that 're-orientation therapy' has been subject to sustained criticism from psychologists and others; but his genuine desire to reduce the volume of this too often fractious debate, and to not condemn people who disagree with him is moving and offers a contrast to the way these questions are often handled.

Rewarding the faithful.

2009-02-23T01:26:00.004Z

I've said before that the main value of awards ceremonies is that they allow for the possibility that some good films will get a new audience; and everybody likes prizes. The decadence and indulgence that seems to accompany the show - who cares who designed your dress? why are you dating so-and-so? is it anyone's business - I can do without; but it's hard to care about the movies without caring about the movie industry.

So, for anyone in the UK who's up late, anyone in the US who wants another commentary on the show on top of what they'll get on ABC, or in any other time zone with nothing better to do, Jett Loe and I will be live blogging the OSCARs over at www.thefilmtalk.com

What We Owe Jade Goody

2009-02-17T23:33:00.002Z

Two years ago, when the UK reality TV star Jade Goody was being scapegoated for all British racism, historic and contemporary, I wrote the following:

“I wonder if our society will ever be ready to treat public figures as human beings. A 25 year old woman with a difficult family background, whose public persona, lest we forget, was carefully nurtured by the huge corporation responsible for ‘Big Brother’, made reference to the ethnicity of someone she was mocking on television, possibly because she is not mature enough to hide what others in the public eye might. She became therefore the target of violent threats, and eventually physically collapsed under the stress of being made to pay for the un-acknowledged guilt of a nation. There has been little or no serious discussion of the meaning of racism in our culture, nor what we might together do to address our own bigotry. One has to wonder if the hugely disproportionate reaction does not reveal more about repressed post-colonial self-loathing on the part of the British people, perhaps especially that held by its tabloid editors. If you have not have heard of her medical distress, it may be worth asking why some sections of the media were happy to report her public mistakes, but not her personal tragedy. We seem caught in a cultural paradox, where certain kinds of public vulnerability are not only welcome, but seen as a path to credibility; while other forms of honesty appear to prove Seamus Heaney’s adage that ‘whatever you say, say nothing.’”

Now, with the announcement of her terminal cancer, there seems to be nothing left to report but her tragedy. There’s a sense, as the news of Jade’s sorrow is absorbed by the public (and the media mavens who made her first a figure of fun, then hatred), of a quiet guilt descending. The sort that a bully might feel after seeing the impact of their actions, realising the fact that no matter what they might have previously thought, the power dynamics in which they were involved have produced immutable proof of something ancient but almost always true: that two wrongs don’t make a right.

I wonder if it’s too much to ask that we might see this woman, Jade Goody, as something more than a figure of fun, or of accusation, or even of pity. Could we instead ask ourselves if the dehumanization of our culture might finally have exhausted any right to sustain itself? That instead of trivializing her further, we might let our sister Jade Goody have some peace to be with her loved ones; and instead of using her illness as a reason to feel some kind of emotional catharsis, we might consider ourselves privileged to have the chance, the space, and the health to reflect on how we ourselves (and I mean to start with me) will respond to the questions of humiliation, finger-pointing, prejudice (not only the racism she was accused of, but the bigotry she faced because it was convenient to label her ‘stupid’), and the human brokenness that her sad story evokes?

Millard Fuller: The Practice of Prophecy

2009-02-03T18:29:00.004Z

Millard Fuller, co-founder with his wife Linda, of Habitat for Humanity, the housing charity that has built hundreds of thousands of homes for people who otherwise might not have the means to buy, has died at 74 years old.

Obituaries and tributes elsewhere will detail his life and work; I had the privilege of meeting him and Linda once, and their graceful humility made the kind of impact that leaves you thinking simply, 'I wish I could be like that'.

All I would wish to add to what will surely be detailed and worthy tributes is the following: Millard Fuller, through Habitat for Humanity and the Fuller Center did something that most of us would like to, but miss: he took an ancient teaching that everyone ostensibly agrees with - love thy neighbor - and actually put it into practice. And when I say practice, I mean he made a practical, easy-to-comprehend and live strategic response: he built houses with and for people who couldn't afford them, and made it possible for those marginalised and disenfranchised by our society's way of doing things to live with a greater measure of dignity. Prophetic statements are better fleshed out with prophetic acts. Millard Fuller's life shows us how.

Dealing with the Past

2009-01-28T16:08:00.003Z

Today is a huge day in my home of northern Ireland as it sees the latest development in the long-running peace process. The report of the Consultative Group on the Past - established to recommend how we might find ways to deal with the legacy of nearly 4000 murders, 43 000 physical injuries, a divided society, and brokenness everywhere - has been published. The report includes suggesting, among many other things, establishing a Legacy commission to investigate violence and provide information, a bursary to address the effects of the conflict including addiction and suicide prevention, and calling on churches to take responsibility for their/our role in nurturing the social context in which the conflict could occur.

It's a controversial report - very little in northern Irish public life isn't controversial - because it deals with the monumental pain of decades in which neighbors suspected neighbors, people were blown up in public places, and nobody could feel entirely safe. The suggestion that family members of people killed should receive an 'acknowledgement payment' has been particularly focused on in the media, because it makes no distinction between non-combatant civilians on the one hand and combatants in the police, army, and illegal paramilitary organisations like the IRA and their Loyalist counterparts on the other. There are good reasons for this, for victim hierarchies serve to continue our society's division; just as much as there are completely legitimate reasons for some to feel hurt by the suggestion that their pain is equal to that of the relatives of someone who killed another person before being killed themself.

It's important reading for anyone with an interest in northern Ireland, as well as anyone who cares about questions of dealing with violence and trauma anywhere. Perhaps the most important element is the fact that the principles of restorative justice are implied in the consultative group's report; an attempt to transcend revenge and establish a way forward based on the understanding that justice and mercy go hand in hand - and that your security and mine depend on each other.

The Consultative Group on the Past have given more serious attention to the question of trauma and societal healing than almost any other initiative anywhere in the world, and their report is a document of historic significance. I can't over-emphasise how important it may be for people to read, whether or not they have any connection with northern Ireland. We in northern Ireland were stunned by the ongoing, repeating and spiralling wounds of our recent past; and it has taken over a decade to get to the stage of even starting to negotiate our future together. This report builds on the case that burying the scars of violence and trauma do not heal them, any more than vengeance makes a victim feel better in the long term. It might offer some contributions to the questions of conflict and its aftermath that face us all; indeed, as my adopted country of the US emerges from a traumatic period in its own history some of the principles outlined in this report might be useful too.

The Best Disney Film You've Never Seen

2009-01-24T17:48:00.001Z

I’m loving my Blu-ray player and, inspired by the fact that a number of film critics I like have named Disney’s ‘Sleeping Beauty’ as one of the best releases of the past year, have been watching this fifty year old cartoon in ten minute bursts since the Netflix copy arrived on Monday. It’s twee and sentimental, but also happens to be visually astonishing. The backgrounds in particular are feats of the imagination that amaze; the wicked queen’s (if indeed she is a queen - I haven’t really been following the story) lair has the detail of ‘The Wizard of Oz’ while also reminding me of the production style Tim Burton used more recently in ‘Sweeney Todd’; and the character images are elegant and evocative - a comedy fat king, an embosoming fairy or three, a jutting-chinned handsome prince. Beyond that, the way the Blu-ray makes the film look is almost too good; I like a bit of grain in my old film transfers rather than feeling like I’m watching a robot painting in ‘THX 1138′, but I suppose that’s churlish when faced with the upgraded image available on the ‘Sleeping Beauty’ blu-ray.

Having said that, I’m not writing here to encourage you to watch a Disney fairytale cartoon with Freudian resonance, engaging as that may be. It’s the short film special feature included on the disc that blew me away. ‘Grand Canyon’, a 25 minute live action film putting incredible photography - much of it aerial - of the canyon to the music of Ferde Grofé. I remember seeing such nature documentaries when I was a kid, as the ‘B’ film before movies like ‘The Dark Crystal’; I remember being bored, the anticipation of the main event making patience impossible. I’m guessing that ‘Grand Canyon’ might have been one of the film I couldn’t wait to end; and like many things I wasted as a child, having watched it again the other night, I wish I hadn’t.

Disney’s ‘Grand Canyon’, directed by James Algar is, quite simply, my film of the week; maybe the month; maybe the year. The images evoke the stargate sequence of ‘2001′, making it one of the most beautiful films I’ve ever seen; the fact that the images are timeless - the Grand Canyon was here before any of us, and will still be here after we’ve gone (if indeed we ever do leave here - but we’ll get to the theology of the afterlife in a future episode ;-)) makes it one of the most disturbing. The lack of tricks available to film-makers in 1958 compared with today makes it a far more naturalistic short than might be made with a computer or IMAX; all to the good, as far as I’m concerned. It’s like a live action ‘Fantasia’; and I’d guess that your feelings about ‘Fantasia’ will largely shape your response about ‘Grand Canyon’.

Sundance Festival 2: Mary and Max

2009-01-20T13:34:00.000Z

One of the surprises of this year’s festival is that the opening night film is a stop-motion animation about the penpal relationship between a lonely Australian girl and a profoundly overweight man with Asperger’s Syndrome living in New York. If ‘Mary and Max’ had been a live action drama starring Philip Seymour Hoffman and Toni Collette, featuring elegant images of the Manhattan skyline looking like you’ve never seen it before, intercut with a knowing reflection on human isolation and the things that can heal it, this would appear to be the perfect choice for the world’s best known independent film festival. The fact that it’s made of plasticine instead of live action makes it so much more interesting than so many other independent dramas; it was good to see it as the opening night film.

‘Mary and Max’ is sensitive to Asperger’s syndrome and other special needs without being cloying; it’s honest about depression; it’s extremely funny in places without falling into the slapstick trap; the narration from Barry Humphries is perfectly balanced between sweet and harsh (and Hoffman/Collette both articulate what these characters might actually be like the real world); and, most of all, the animation - which took 57 weeks of days that each produced no more than a few seconds screen time is magnificent. Tonally think ‘Wallace and Gromit’ meets ‘Rain Man’ - with the emphasis on the rain. Director Adam Elliott has made an exhilarating film that genuinely deserves a huge audience when it’s released.

Sundance Festival 1: Korean documentary 'Old Partner'/Irish short '6 Farms'

2009-01-18T06:56:00.002Z

My first night at Sundance and it’s freezing. Only on the outside. Am surrounded by people queuing up in front of volunteers with plastic badges hanging from chains round their necks. Some are wearing snazzy warm festival-branded fleeces. They all seem lovely. Film festivals, at times, can be little more than cattle markets or schmooze-zones, and I’m sure Sundance has its share of that - but tonight the audience seemed all about the movie. A Korean documentary about an elderly couple and their ox - I’m not kidding - called ‘Old Partner’ constituted my introductory screening, and I guess all I can say is that it’s as good a film about an elderly couple and their ox could expect to be. Delicate and harsh in the same sentence - as gorgeous images of nature compete with the reality that the husband and the dying ox are both winding down their lives, and neither of them is happy about it. ‘Old Partner’ was followed by a marvelous Irish short by Tony Donoghue, ‘6 Farms’ - a fantastic time lapse still photography piece about Tipperary agricultural traditions. It was like Aardman’s ‘Creature Comforts’ with more literal images. The photographic technique is so complex that this almost certainly is one of the longest short film shoots in history.

Tomorrow I’ve a revisionist Western (is there any other kind these days?), a stop-motion animated film about a penpal relationship between an 8 year old girl and a middle aged obese man with Aspergers, and a boxing documentary about Muhammad Ali that isn’t ‘When we were Kings’. Reports will appear here if the frostbite on my fingers thaws.

'The Wrestler'

2009-01-15T21:29:00.000Z

Mickey Rourke plays a version of himself and every other faded star. He’s great.

Marisa Tomei plays a version of the hooker with a heart of gold who’s been around since cinema began. She’s risky.

Evan Rachel Wood plays the angry abandoned daughter archetype. She’s pretty good.

And the wrestlers are great fun; unsurprisingly sweet-natured and kind to each other.

But the film itself…

Well…it’s not that it’s not very good - it’s a well-made, honest little drama of the kind that looked original in the early 90s (think Soderbergh and James Marsh at the beginning of their careers) but there’s nothing in this film that I haven’t seen before. Stories are stories are stories, I suppose; and there aren’t too many to go around, and I’m delighted to see anything that denies the quick fix cosmetic ease with which movie characters often resolve their problems - even ‘Changeling’, perhaps the bleakest story I saw at the cinema this past year, had to have a ‘happy’ ending of some kind. Am also, as listeners will know, a fan of Darren Aronofsky - ‘The Fountain’s one of my favourite films, and ‘Pi’ and ‘Requiem for a Dream’ are so effective at building a mood of dread that I don’t ever want to see them again. But ‘The Wrestler’ is a B-movie; I think what saves it is that that’s what it seems Aronofsky was trying to make.

'Gran Torino'

2009-01-11T15:00:00.007Z

I heard a seventy-eight year old man sing, through a cracked voice, one of the most moving and gentle jazz melodies, as the iconic image of a fetishised sports car being driven into the sunset were projected. And, not for the first time in recent years, I was crying at the end of a Clint Eastwood film. 'Gran Torino', like 'Million Dollar Baby', 'Flags of our Fathers' & 'Letters from Iwo Jima', 'Mystic River', 'A Perfect World', and starting with 'Unforgiven' and 'Bird' twenty years ago, is a film about a man coming to terms with death, and being confronted with the futility of violence. I'm struggling for a word here, but I'll call it the 'joy' of watching this old man working at the peak of his directorial skill - simple set ups, scripts that sound like the way people talk in real life, often lots of unknown actors filling out the cast so the show becomes less of a celebrity-spotting exercise, sparing use of music (usually written by Eastwood himself) combining to produce not only one of the most prolific bodies of work in Hollywood history, but one of the most artful.

Sure, he has made some awful movies - but, as Groucho might say, haven't we all? For every 'Firefox' there's a 'High Plains Drifter' (one of the most gripping - and violent - revenge fantasies I've ever seen, and an early example of Clint's antipathy toward the church) or a 'Bird' (the second best film about jazz ever made, and maybe the best biopic); for every 'Blood Work' there's a 'Bridges of Madison County' (trust me, how many films about love between men and women actually make you believe they're in love?) or an 'A Perfect World' (a film which the Coen Brothers surely relied on for developing the Tommy Lee Jones character, world-weary sherrif, in 'No Country for Old Men').

'Gran Torino' might be the last film Clint Eastwood acts in. So it's a relief - and somewhat bittersweet - for me to report that I think it may be the best performance he's ever given; or at least the best from the twilight era of his life. There are moments in this film that speak to me about my own preoccupation (some would call it an obsession) with violence and non-violence, and I find myself astonished that these ideas come from man who, when he was my age, was playing characters who shot people dead in order to get a laugh. Agreeing with the philosophy outlined in a film is not, of course, enough of a reason to think it's a great movie. And perhaps if I watch it again in a week or a year or two I'll be disappointed (even on the first viewing there are some obvious wrong notes); but for now, I'll say this. The ghost of Dirty Harry is laid to rest. The brokenness of war veterans is honoured while the powers that be, who send young men to die for politics are utterly absent. This film knows that the future of humanity depends on people being able to live together in diversity, putting up with cultural difference, and defending vulnerable members of the community. But it also knows something that the Man with No Name and Dirty Harry didn't: violence begets violence; and only non-violence is powerful enough to neutralise its opposite. How 'Gran Torino' presents the terms of conflict, or how it ultimately addresses them, may not be a textbook example of Gandhian resistance, but it's a far cry from 'Go ahead, make my day'. On the first viewing at least, it's a heartbreaking, beautiful film. If it proves to be its director's last, while I'm greedy for more, I can't thinking of a more fitting swan song.

Chinatown

2009-01-06T17:17:00.002Z

‘Chinatown’ again last night.

New(ish) TV. New Blu-Ray player (though couldn’t watch the ‘Chinatown’ disc on it - my copy’s region 2 and haven’t figured out how to de-code Sylvania; so watched it on my perfectly acceptable forty-two dollar Phillips multi-region machine). No RGB cable (it’s connecting the Blu-Ray player). No HDMI cable (guy in the shop offered it to me first at $80, then said the cheapest he could do was $50. Went home, clicked three times, got one on amazon marketplace for less than two bucks. Should arrive tomorrow.) So, Region 2 ‘Chinatown’ using one awful lead - picture quality therefore reminded me of ‘Grindhouse’. Didn’t want to be reminded of ‘Grindhouse’.

‘Chinatown’. Probably for the tenth time. First time was a pan and scan late night ITV screening in about 1991. Second time was when I bought an early widescreen VHS copy, all gauzey - like when they put Vaseline on the lens to make an older actor look youthful, or to pretend that they’re dreaming. Got three or four viewings out of that tape. Then it was one of the first DVDs I ever owned. Now it’s the second generation UK DVD, apparently with a new transfer - though with one lead you can’t tell - but that’s my fault.

Ten times with a film is enough to make you complacent; but when it’s ‘Chinatown’ you could go on watching forever. I see new things in it every time. What I saw last night?

Politics.

Sex.

Violence.

The American Dream.

Cars.

Ambition.

Venetian blinds.

Sunshine.

Fish.

Throw in a bit of religion and you’d have the Great American Novel. Which is not far off saying that you might have America.

John

2009-01-04T02:01:00.004Z

My friend John died a year ago today. I have been comforted, in the midst of grief, at the gift of knowing him; and I am re-posting below words that I wrote at the time, to bear witness to the love and life of this man.

January 4th 2008: John O’Donohue was my friend. We had been getting to know each other for almost four years now – a lifetime in our transient world – the very world that John’s words sought to slow down. I felt that we had in some sense adopted each other as compadres on the spiritual journey – a 50-something former priest taking into his life a 30-something former evangelical; both of us bound by our common Irish heritage, love of cinema, and fondness for sipping what he insisted on referring to as ‘firewater’. We spent many hours talking on the phone, eating together, and engaging in two of our favourite pursuits: whiskey and talking about movies.

He had a way with words that made you feel whole again – he created a space with language, both spoken and written, that felt like the home you never knew you were missing, but now never wanted to leave.

His work on retrieving the earthiness of celtic spirituality and helping make sense of it in a postmodern world is so profound that its impact has not yet been fully felt, and it represents something rare in a consumerist, post-Britart culture: a work of art that will outlast its author.

He managed also to write with the utmost seriousness and care for language, making his books the kind that you read slowly, savouring each page; meanwhile, his public talks were characterised by an indelicate Irish charm and the kind of wit that leads to laughter so deep it makes you feel like you belong.

What many may not know is that in addition to his ministry in the Catholic priesthood, and latterly as a writer and speaker, he was a serious environmental activist, helping to spearhead a small group that successfully prevented the despoilment of the Burren, one of Ireland’s most stunning natural landscapes. He put his reputation on the line to save something worth preserving, even being prepared to go to prison to do so.

In his activism, as well as his writing and speaking, and most of all, in his life, he wanted people to have shelter from the storms their lives would bring; when I once told him of my own struggles with serious depression and anxiety he clapped his hands together in a gesture of defiance and almost shouted at me: ‘May those feckin devils stay far from your door and NEVER TOUCH YOU AGAIN. You are worth far more than you think.’ His presence in my life made me believe it.

John knew that we live in the intersection of the sacred and the profane, and he wanted to nudge us in the direction of understanding that holiness has more to do with being aware of the light around us than moral puritanism. In the introduction to his most recent book ‘Benedictus’, published only a couple of months ago, he writes of how in any given day, some of us humans will experience the shock of being told of the sudden death of a friend. John wanted us to be tender to the fact that the faces of strangers we meet every day all hide secrets that are both divine and tragic. We do not always know who among us is suffering some unnameable torment, nor who is rejoicing at the blessing of a lifetime.

Last night, I became one of the people he wrote about – when I received an email (another manifestation of this world’s transience) informing me of his peaceful death, while asleep, on holiday in France. It is bewildering to note that a man who brought so much life around him is dead. But it is also vital to remember that he saw death as a path to freedom. He had spent so much time ministering with the dying – one of the greatest privileges of ministry, as far as he was concerned – that I felt he was, while totally committed to living life to the full, somehow also looking forward to his own death. Not in a morbid sense, but simply because he did believe that our own death is a step forward. He often said ‘when you enter into freedom, possibility comes to meet you’ – I imagine that he is, right now, experiencing a kind of freedom about which he would – at the very least - write some pretty marvellous poetry. It is hard to begrudge him his death when part of him was so ready for it.

I wonder how he’d describe it. For those of us left behind, well, we miss him dearly, and are grateful for the spaces he opened in our lives. I find it almost impossible to believe that he is gone; but if he was right about his own future, we will meet again.

A BLESSING FOR EQUILIBRIUM.
BY JOHN O’DONOHUE, from ‘Benedictus – A Book of Blessings’

Like the joy of the sea coming home to shore,
May the music of laughter break through your soul.

As the wind wants to make everything dance,
May your gravity be lightened by grace.

Like the freedom of the monastery bell,
May clarity of mind make your eyes smile.

As water takes whatever shape it is in,
So free may you be about who you become.

As silence smiles on the other side of what’s said,
May a sense of irony give you perspective.

As time remains free of all that it frames,
May fear or worry never put you in chains.

May your prayer of listening deepen enough
To hear in the distance the laughter of God.

Slumdog Millionaire & Frost/Nixon

2009-01-02T15:21:00.004Z

In the interests of being comprehensive, now that I've seen them, I can happily say that, for me, 'Slumdog Millionaire' is one of the year's best films, and 'Frost/Nixon' is not.

'Slumdog' is an astonishing array of Bollywood parody/homage mingled with a story of childhood trauma that bears comparison with 'City of God' or 'Schindler's List' and one of the most interesting treatments of 'money doesn't conquer all but love might' I've ever seen. My first viewing was colonised by the fact that the movie has been marketed as a feelgood fantasy, when in fact it plumbs the depths of modern day child slavery, and features, about forty minutes in, one of the most distressing images I've ever seen in a film; the rest of the film could not recover. This was a good thing, an indicator of how powerful the first act had been. I returned a couple of days later, partly because I wanted to get the distressing parts of the film out of my system, partly because I knew it deserved a second look. Going in knowing the emotional terrain of the movie meant that I didn't spend most of its running time squirming; and ultimately I found it utterly exhilirating. Danny Boyle has fused the rapid fire editing chic of 'Trainspotting' with a Simon Beaufoy script about globalisation, poverty, how the largest city in the world swallows up the most vulnerable, and the power of a TV show to monopolise the public imagination. There's even a bit of comment about religious sectarianism, and a glance cast at Islam - I'm not sure this is entirely successful, as it's not clear on first viewing just what is being said - but this might be the point: Boyle and Beaufoy are just showing us what Mumbai is like, not telling us what to think, except when it comes to how consumerism, at best, is its own reward; at worst, it kills people. 'Slumdog Millionaire' is a magnificent film.

'Frost/Nixon', on the other hand, is a well-directed story that I have seen before. Lovely to watch the actors - Michael Sheen and Frank Langella in particular - do their thing, but I felt that there was less to this than the sum of its parts. Presidents are vulnerable human beings too; interviewers have mixed motives. But - and I'll go out on a limb here - I've always been a defender of Ron Howard, and will continue to say that he knows how to make entertaining movies. If someone could erase 'A Beautiful Mind' from the lexicon of film history I'd make that statement even stronger.

Films of the Year: The Top Ten

2008-12-24T21:18:00.000Z

I’m always somewhat suspicious of “top 10″ lists, despite the fact that I’ve written one. Too often they become reasons for people not to see films that aren’t included, but I suppose I err on the side of offering the following list of the movies I liked most in the past year not because I have any special right to do so, but because I hope some of the films might get seen by people who might not otherwise check them out. That’s what I find most helpful about other people’s lists, so in the same spirit, here’s mine.

10. My Winnipeg. A crazy poem about director Guy Maddin’s love for his home city; a dream-like interaction with the people and places that shaped and formed him that will inspire audiences to remember what gives them a firm place to stand; and a reminder that there is a conservative principle that deserves renewing — saving the sense of community we had as children is worth almost any cost.

9. Shine a Light and U2-3D — two concert films. One is the most authentic recorded representation yet of a band that is far more than the sum of its parts, and who, under Bono’s spiritual authority, manages to do nothing less than lead a megachurch service in a Buenos Aires stadium. Their God is big and real, and among the broken; to be in the audience for this film is a surreal exhilaration. The other movie is Martin Scorsese’s depiction of the Rolling Stones playing—by their standards—a tiny venue, and revealing the secret of the band’s nearly 50-year history: They love what they do, and they keep doing it (and get paid pretty well, of course). It’s more than a film with music; when Mick Jagger’s gyrations are married to his lyrics, it’s clear that the question the Stones ask remains the same as always: how can men make sense of women? (Whether or not they have a good answer is, alas, not addressed.)

8. Happy Go Lucky. Mike Leigh’s film whose central character is so full of joy that you expect in this cynical age that she will be revealed as profoundly broken, or to come to grief in the course of the plot. Instead, Leigh and his lead actor, Sally Hawkins, have faith in the potential of human beings to bring more light than heat, and to find happiness not through changed circumstances, but changed perspective.

7. The Dark Knight. A coruscating and thrilling deconstruction of the war on terror, or George W. Bush’s retirement tribute video? The genius (or biggest failing) of this film is that it doesn’t decide for us. (And Heath Ledger’s Tom Waits impersonation isn’t too bad either.)

6. Rachel Getting Married – a small film of huge emotional depth, as two families gather to celebrate a wedding, while things fall apart and come together on the inside. Jonathan Demme has a lightness of touch that makes even one of the most completely unrealistic multi-ethnic nuptials sequences in all of cinema seem compelling to the point where you want to be invited to attend. Roger Ebert said that this film evokes what the U.S. is becoming at its best — a diverse nation of people who know that their future lies in learning to deal with difference. He might be optimistic, but he might also be right.

5. Milk. Sean Penn plays the first openly gay elected official in U.S. history, and Gus van Sant makes a brilliant film about the movement that brought him to office. But this is not just a gay rights movie — it’s a film about how social movements bring change and the cost to the individuals who lead them.

4. Heartbeat Detector — a film hardly anyone has seen, as it only received a limited release in one city. Now that it’s available on DVD, hopefully more people will experience this French existential thriller, which takes a long hard look at labor and employment practices in the post-modern corporate world and finds parallels in the most horrifying of places. When destroying a person’s livelihood can be called “downsizing,” the principles of dehumanization associated with despotic regimes have found their way into our daily bread.

3. Wall-E — not just the best animated film of the year, but the best film for the broadest audience. It’s a movie about the future with a sense of place comparable to Blade Runner and Lawrence of Arabia, and a moral vision of the present that deserves to be shouted from the rooftops: We are the makers of our own destiny, and time is running out to ensure that there is a planet for us to have a destiny on.

2. The Visitor — the smallest film on this list, with perhaps the largest emotional scope. A college professor hangs out with a couple of undocumented immigrants in the most cosmopolitan city in the world, the shadow of 9/11 and the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan loom large, while the meaning of community and the inflexibility of the law to exercise mercy are delicately portrayed. Richard Jenkins gives my favorite performance of the year. I hope the film’s reputation will last a long time.

1. Man on Wire — a documentary that asks “What could be more sublime than risking your life walking on a tightrope strung between the Twin Towers?” What could be more necessary than to restore our vision of the towers from one of barbarism to the immensity of human achievement? Philippe Petit, the French circus performer who carried out this amazing feat in 1974, may be touched by the spirit of Icarus, but he also stands as an icon of what the world needs now: human beings able to look up from their lives, to stop being defined by what has been called “the narrow circle of self,” and, to coin a phrase, do something beautiful.

Films of the Year: The runners-up

2008-12-19T20:43:00.003Z

2008 Cinema Review: Joint Eleventh Place

Looking back on the year’s movies, I’m struck by how many of my favorites featured the theme of family and community – perhaps this reflects only my current personal concerns, or maybe there’s a bigger invisible hand at work. For what it’s worth, here’s my list of six movies that I really loved, but which don’t quite make it onto the top ten of 2008. That best-of list will follow soon.*

‘Quantum of Solace’, a James Bond film notable for featuring the rare instance in which he learns the futility of revenge, and advocates against a multi-national corporation in favor of the right of poor people to have clean drinking water. I know most critics were ambivalent about this movie, but trust me – it’s tightly edited, well-written, and plays more like an advert for a militarized peace and justice movement than the war on terror.

‘Surfwise’ – a rollicking documentary about a family so committed to living free that they unplugged themselves from the social grid and spent their lives in a motor home by a series of beaches. The patriarch is as gregarious as he is dictatorial, and the moral and psychological questions raised by his communitarian experiment deserve attention at any time, but perhaps especially in economic crisis.

‘Synecdoche, New York’, a mind-blowing dog-chasing-its-tail of a film; an aesthetically extraordinary, both troubling and hilarious story about art and its creation, about family and its dysfunction, and humanity and its relationship with itself – a film that gets bigger the more I think about it.

‘Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull’ – Another under-appreciated film; but look closely and you’ll see Steven Spielberg fusing wide-eyed wonderment with his darker side – this is a wildly entertaining movie about bruised people becoming a family, it has one of the wisest last lines spoken by a major character in any film, and in the nuclear test zone sequence features the most dramatic image Spielberg has ever created: the atomic bomb as the starting pistol for the second half of the twentieth century.

Australia – In which Baz Lurhmann proves that he doesn’t care what other people think – he just wants to make movies on his terms. And what a movie he’s made: the creation myth of a huge country, seeking to atone for the shallow representation of Aboriginal people, and suggesting that only when you see the world through the eyes of a child can you be truly human.

‘Son of Rambow’ – A delightful little movie which manages to be both a knowing representation of childhood, a critique of religious fundamentalism, and a love letter to cinema itself.

* One of the most disappointing aspects of film distribution is how difficult it’s becoming to get to see movies that lack a huge budget. So, in the interests of being comprehensive, I’ve listed below films that I imagine might have made this list or the one to follow, but that I haven’t seen, either because they haven’t yet been released or screened for critics, or they just haven’t made it to my part of the country.

Elegy
IOUSA
A Christmas Tale
Doubt
Frost/Nixon
The Reader
Revolutionary Road
Defiance
I’ve Loved you so Long
The Wrestler
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Slumdog Millionaire

Films of the Year (part 3) MORE DISAPPOINTMENTS

2008-12-15T15:13:00.005Z

Continuing the film critic's privilege of somewhat pretentiously deciding which films didn't make the cut - not necessarily the worst movies of the year, just the most disappointing. While it takes almost as much effort to make a bad film as to make a good one, these 13 (see the previous post for the first 7) represent much less than the sum of their parts.

6: 10000 BC - Roland Emmerich makes disaster films. Some of them are fun ('The Day after Tomorrow'). Some of them are pretty bad ('Godzilla'). Some of them make you wish that the world would end if only so you could escape from the cinema.

5: Sex and the City - a movie that exists to provide space for product placement and superficial emoting by characters who remind me of what some fear most about human relationships: that ultimately, we cannot choose to be anything other than alone in our own personal hell.*

4: Eagle Eye - a film that wants to be 'North by Northwest' but ends up nothing more than a calling card for Shia la Boeuf (he's a talented kid, but I wish I hadn't fallen asleep and could believe the film was about more than it seems to be; it felt like I had paid for him to develop a the most well-made showreel in the history of the movies)

3: 21 - the only movie I walked out of this year. Even though I was there alone, I actually began to feel embarrassed for myself after about ten minutes of this literally by-the-numbers coming of age/college sex dramedy.

2: The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor/Journey to the Center of the Earth - two Brendan Fraser films for the price of one (try 'Gods and Monsters' and 'Blast from the Past' for a far better evening's entertainment. They're listed here because they both, in their own small way (as John Geilgud might say) show contempt for the audience; one because it is a series of CGI effects strung together by nothing (and you can see the joins), the other because it was marketed as an exciting 3-D experience, but had nothing to offer the vast majority of audiences who had to settle for seeing it without the big glasses. The most short-changed I've felt at the movies this year.

1: Wanted - Easily my choice for the film this year that I most want to forget. This may seem controversial, because the movie is made with a great deal of craft, and so may not therefore deserve the criticism. But for me, the quality of a film is also determined by its cultural and moral vision; in that regard, 'Wanted', with its appropriation of nihilism-inflected-sexviolence, endorsement of the idea that physical attack is a better way to use your time than almost anything else, and its appetite for ultimate destruction gets my vote as the most morally empty, offensive, and distressing movie released in 2008.

To optimists among us: better news to follow.

*OK OK OK I know there's more to it than that, but there might also be less.

Films of the Year (part 2) DISAPPOINTMENTS

2008-12-13T21:50:00.003Z

I'm going to post my review of the year in several parts over the next week - and even though I now live in the United States, I'm still northern Irish at heart, so I'll start with the disappointments. Here's the first seven (of 13 - a number which seems appropriate):

13: Bolt - a computer-generated film whose end credits reveal beautiful pencil and paint images that could have made it a masterpiece. Instead, it looks like an elongated version of the half-finished special features on a Pixar DVD.

12: Changeling - Clint Eastwood has an old-fashioned sense of storytelling, which makes for magnificent films when he wants to investigate parts we didn't know about before (the guilt of the ageing killer in 'Unforgiven', the two-wrongs-don't-make-a-right existentialism of 'Flags of our Fathers' and 'Letters from Iwo Jima', and the tragedy of being powerful over a small place in 'Mystic River'). But when all he has to give us is a terrible story about terrible events, the effect is like having your face squelched in mud for two hours.

11: Vicki Cristina Barcelona - Woody Allen's decline was sadly not arrested by his apparent belief that his recent superficial scripts would be transformed into works of genius by making one of them in Spain.

10: The Incredible Hulk - A film with a brilliant opening shot that just goes downhill; failing to recognise that the inner life of the Hulk is more interesting that genetically modified street battles, I'd rather watch the Ang Lee original instead - I mean it.

9: Get Smart - So many good actors, so much money on sets and locations, so few jokes that weren't already in the trailer.

8: The Day the Earth Stood Still - a decently put together but cliche-ridden remake.

7: Speed Racer - My podcast co-host thought this large-scale computer arcade game (with characters, narrative, and structure as subtle and nuanced as that description would lead you to expect) was a masterpiece that will change cinema. He's probably right about the second part.

The rest of the list will follow soon....

Films of the Year (part 1)

2008-12-12T16:09:00.005Z

It's nearly time for the end of year 'best of' movie list - and rest assured, I'll produce one in a week or so - still have to see 'Slumdog Millionaire', 'Revolutionary Road', 'Brad Pitt Tries For an Oscar Again', 'I've Loved You So Long', and 'Four Christmases' - so the list can't be completed just yet. But by way of a characteristic preview I can let you know that if you're a Roger Corman-trained guy best known for a cannibal movie, a French circus artiste with a taste for creative tightroping, or a college professor learning to play the djembe, you might have reason to be pleased with yourself. I'm off to see 'The Day The Earth Stood Still'. Will comment later.

A Question about Prop. 8

2008-11-19T13:53:00.005Z

The passing of Proposition 8 in California a couple of weeks ago makes gay marriage unconstitutional in that state; protests have begun and it's likely that the short term local defeat will lead to a movement that will eventually provoke a reversal at the national level. From my perspective, it should be untenable for a country that prides itself on liberty and justice for all to continue to refuse the right to legal protection and benefits to people who want to ratify their partnerships; especially when so much of the rest of the democratic world has seen that offering civil partnership legislation to same-sex couples is not a travesty of 'traditional values', nor will it undermine heterosexual marriage, but is actually best seen as an extension of the principles outlined by the founders of the United States - when people recognise injustice, what they are supposed to do is end it, not enshrine it in law.

Meantime, the opposing factions in this culture war don't talk to each other very much, partly I suppose because they are afraid, partly because they don't know each other (or they don't think they know each other). One side sees the GLBT community as demons out to destroy family life; the other sees religious fundamentalists as their oppressors, out to take away their very right to a family life.

So the question I want to ask is: what exactly do the proponents of Proposition 8 think there is to be gained from preventing loving couples having the right to share their tax burden, visit each other in hospital, and live in the same country? It's a serious question; and I have genuinely never quite understood the reasons offered by those opposed to gay marriage. I have some more detailed thoughts on this, and hope we can have a dialogue here about this; I'd be grateful if any readers would like to kickstart it by posting their responses to this question: How does gay marriage negatively affect anyone who is not gay?

Ten Things That Have Been On My Mind This Week

2008-11-16T14:32:00.003Z

Gay marriage is the location of the next stage of the culture war – and equality will win.

I think that Sarah Palin will not run for President. Or that the only way she will run will be if someone prophesies that she should.

I miss Barack Obama; he's been off the TV most of the past week. Somebody Bring Him B(ar)ack! We need our Bartlett for Thanksgiving.

Clint Eastwood’s films are very old-fashioned. This is not a criticism. It means that sometimes (‘Flags of our Fathers’ – young men being used as propaganda tools by the US Government, ‘Unforgiven’ – an old gunslinger regretting the past, ‘Letters from Iwo Jima’ – the other side of a ‘noble’ war) he makes magnificent cinema, because when good craft is applied to simple stories that tell us something new, what’s not to like? On the other hand, sometimes (‘Changeling’ – serial killer in Los Angeles, ‘Space Cowboys’ – old guys having fun together, ‘Blood Work’ – another serial killer in Los Angeles) his films are monotonous, repetitive, and tell us nothing that we didn’t already know.

Singing old songs by the Carpenters and Lionel Richie round a campfire on a freezing night does not keep you warm.

You can’t take fingerprints from a cat.

Even Stanley Kubrick made ‘early, innocent’ movies.

Dr Oliver Sacks is a lovable old guy whose attitude to giving a public lecture mirrors mine: bring a sheaf of notes, start well, and then completely disregard your plans in favour of telling stories instead.

‘Three Colours Blue’ remains one of the most thrilling films I’ve ever seen, and Kieslwoski’s notion of freedom is not unlike that presented in ‘Into the Wild’: part of the purpose of life is to call every thing by its right name; and happiness is only real when it is shared.

Coincidences are unending.

Some Theological Questions about War and Peace

2008-11-07T18:45:00.004Z

I've been asked to comment on a few things I said - about truth, war and peace, and taxes, in a class at Fuller Seminary a few weeks ago, and am happy to do so here. Let's start with war and peace.

In short, my questioner asked if my opposition to the use of violence is complete, and if events like the Second World War do not themselves justify violent response. I'm quoting my email response to my questioner with his permission:

I'm grateful for the question, for the Second World War is of course a key example used in the discussion of non- and less-violent means of addressing conflict. I would never want to demean or trivialize the sacrifices made to prevent the evil intent of Hitler from achieving its ends; indeed, as is the case for so many of this generation, my grandparents directly participated in that sacrifice. But the question arises as to whether or not the cause of ending Hitler’s war justified the means used to end it; and whether there were other potential means that could have been used.

The answer is, of course, complex. I will mention only a few of the relevant factors.

1. The war occurred for many reasons; chief among them was the rise of Hitler. This itself occurred for many reasons, chief among them being the humiliation of the German people, and the bankrupting of the German economy by the reparations imposed under the auspices of the League of Nations in the period following the First World War. Another reason for the rise of Hitler was that there was not a substantial enough internal resistance movement within Germany to prevent this.

2. I mention this in the service of one conclusion: that if we wait until the day after Hitler invades Poland to ask ourselves what we are going to do about his aggression, we prove a simple fact: that human beings usually prefer to think in terms of reaction rather than prevention; and in terms of quick fix ‘easy’ solutions rather than long term ‘difficult’ ones. I don’t know what I would have done had I been in Neville Chamberlain’s shoes, or in those of the Chancellor of Germany deposed by Hitler in 1933. I can’t speak for them. But I am part of a historic church; and I consider that to mean that there are moral demands of church membership that, had I been a German Christian, would have been very difficult to meet. For instance, I think the German Catholic Church could have moved to excommunicate any church member who joined the Nazi party. At a time when church membership was considered with much greater seriousness than it usually is today, this might just have had the effect of helping inhibit the rise of Hitler, and therefore helped avoid the war. Such things have happened before and since, when cultural and social organizations have made participation in aggression or prejudice to be anathema, or at the very least, a social embarrassment. In Northern Ireland, many mothers inhibited their sons from joining paramilitary organizations because of the 'healthy shame' they instilled in their children; Christian youth work provided a profoundly important outlet for young people which in its absence might have led to their participation in violence.

Now of course, just excommunicating a lot of German Catholics (or threatening to do so) would not have been enough on its own to prevent the rise of Hitler. But it would have been a start, and would also have allowed the German Catholic Church to have a clean conscience.

3. Flash forward to 2003, when President Bush refused the request of US Methodist Bishops to meet with them on the eve of the Iraq war. Perhaps they should have excommunicated him. I'm serious. Not to punish. But to exercise the discipline of a church whose canons and by-laws presumably President Bush had signed up to; to tell him how far he was straying from the church’s understanding of the will of God; to attempt to compel him to consider his conscience. Again, this probably would not have been enough to change his mind. But the US Methodist church would have been behaving prophetically; and would have a clean conscience about doing everything it could to avert war.

4. In exploring whether or not the use of violence by the Allies was justified, it's helpful to ask when the Second World War ended. Did it end with Nazi surrender and the dropping of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki? Did it? Or did it end when Germany formed the European Community along with other neighbouring nations; and when Japanese efforts at reconciliation eventually included former US POWs embracing the people who had abused them, and when US Presidents shook the hands of Japanese emperors? If that’s when it ended, then the case that violence conflict only ever ends through non-violent means has been bolstered.

5. These, of course, are simple, and potentially simplistic headlines. They do not tell the whole story. So let me say a few more things:

I do not advocate allowing tanks to roll over the vulnerable without the rest of us doing something about it.

I merely believe that war is never simple; it never 'just begins' when it 'begins', nor does it 'end' when it 'ends'. There are thousands of examples of violent conflicts that could have been avoided by non-violent means. Here's a few:

The Kosovo war in the late 1990s which might not have occurred had non-violent reconciliation movements been properly resourced in the 1980s.

The Northern Ireland Troubles, which might not have occurred if the Protestant church leaders had taken seriously their call to serve the poor, and defended Catholics against discrimination, by joining the civil rights movement and helping ensure it engaged in strategic and comprehensive non-violent action.

And there are thousands of examples of how fewer people suffered because the means employed to bring about change were non-violent. If memory serves, up to 7000 Indians died in Gandhi’s independence civil disobedience struggle. A huge, and horrifying number. These people died in the non-violent service of justice, peace, and freedom. But just imagine the number that would have been killed had Gandhi chosen the ‘quick fix’ violence option. I have heard it estimated that the death toll would be close to a million Indians. So let me be clear: I do not think that non-violence is easy, nor is it safe. Of course people suffer when they use non-violent means. There is a cost to every courageous act. But I believe the total suffering in the world is reduced when we use non-violence rather than violence. And I am not an ideological pacifist. We live in a broken and fallen world, and often are faced with a series of flawed options. I just think that the recourse to violence is far too often reached without serious thought, or the exhaustion of other, non- or less-violent means.

6. The Iraq war could have been avoided, and Saddam could have been removed from power without a war. The will did not exist to do such things as ending the sanctions against Iraq and therefore allowing the Iraqi people to become strong enough to overthrow their leader in the kind of non-violent revolution that occurred in both what is now the Czech Republic and Ukraine; nor asking the UN to establish a tribunal to try Saddam for crimes against humanity and having him arrested (and let’s face it, if Milosevic can be basically kidnapped and brought to the Hague, why could a team of Navy SEALS not have been sent into one of his palaces with the same ends in mind? Not that I advocate kidnapping, but as I said, we are faced with flawed options, and kidnapping one man is a far better option than killing tens of thousands of innocent people); and affirming what was then called the Roadmap to Peace in the Middle East, with rhetoric and resources, to show that the US was bona fide in its desire to see that long-standing conflict transformed into a non-violent one.

These are some scattered thoughts for now. Let me say this: I believe that we spend far too much time talking about violence, and not enough about reducing it. We invest far too much in what we call the defence industry, and not the peace industry. We do not understand that prevention is better than cure. And so while I understand the appeal of violence, I do not believe it fixes anything. At best, it can arrest a process that would lead to harming the vulnerable – but it cannot transform it into peace. The overwhelmingly pressing need in our generation is to give as much time and attention to thinking about non- and less-violent means of addressing conflict as we do to making killing look sexy.

But that is not the final word – let’s keep talking.

Why Not Obama?

2008-10-30T16:44:00.001Z

In talking with good friends who plan to vote for McCain, I am still confused as to what people think is so dangerous about Obama. It's a sincere question, rooted in the fact that many of the concerns raised by Obama's opponents seem either to be factually misleading, or their outcomes would actually be closer to what conservatives want (fewer abortions, stronger families, a healthy economy, less dead soldiers) than the rhetoric allows.

So can someone please explain to me why anyone who wants to see poor people taken care of,

a health care system that isn't based on hospital owners and insurance companies getting rich off the back of other people's suffering,

a foreign policy implemented that learns the lesson of every other successful conflict resolution process in history and decides to pursue diplomacy rather than revenge or belligerence because a) it often works and b) it's the morally right thing to do (and will mean, beyond a shadow of doubt, that fewer people will have been killed at the end of his Presidency than if his opponent is elected),

a sexual education and health promotion strategy that reduces the number of unwanted pregnancies and therefore abortions rather than the absurd abstinence programmes heralded by the Bush adminstration which all evidence suggests actually lead to higher instances of STIs,

a tax regime that favours the less well off rather than those who could live in luxurious indulgence for the rest of their lives even if 90% of their income was used by the government to build houses for homeless people,

a morally just policy adopted regarding the consensual partnerships in which people choose to live - allowing same sex couples to more easily own property together, to visit each other when they're dying, and to walk the streets safely in public (without negatively affecting 'the American family' - UK civil partnership legislation for same sex couples has had no discernible effect on the straight divorce rate; indeed, the state formalising same sex relationships may actually contribute to the stable family unit),

a redemption of the office of President, which for the past eight years has been occupied by a man utterly unqualified in temperament, intelligence, judgement or moral discernment to lead, and for the previous eight by a more intelligent man who couldn't keep his erotic urges under control and lied to the country about it (as well as employing the high altitude bomb on at least one occasion that cannot be justified under any circumstances),

and a restoration of the moral and cultural and philosophical and frankly spiritual standing of the US in the eyes of the rest of the world through having a guy in the White House that not only by the obvious contrast shown by the colour of his skin, but the content of his character has revealed himself to be capable of both uniting the country and inspiring the respect of the world,

can anyone explain to me why voting for Obama is not one of the most vital, life-affirming, prophetic, and simply good things you could ever do?

PS: And I know he's not perfect. But he knows it too. And that's probably part of the point of why he represents something amazing.

PPS: And I also know that this could look like a jibe at sincerely skeptical people - I don't mean it that way at all - but I do mean the questions with sincerity.

Some Thoughts on 'Religulous'

2008-10-13T22:06:00.001+01:00

Bill Maher is that rare thing: a media figure unafraid to say what he really thinks. When he intervened in the immediate aftermath of 9/11, suggesting that it’s better to deal intelligently with terrorism than to indulge in absurdist name-calling, many people, including me, supported him. We were dismayed by the cancellation of ‘Politically Incorrect’ – which had provided one of the few opportunities for serious sustained political discussion on television. In recent years he returned to the small screen with ‘Real Time’ on HBO, and the lack of censorship on cable channels has allowed him the run of himself, which is a blessing, because there’s no unreasonable restriction on what can be said. Maher’s concern for calling politicians to account, and allowing oxygen to maverick points of view is a public service; the fact that he does it with such brilliant humor makes the show uniquely entertaining. His new film ‘Religulous’ is a paradox, however – it is both an amusing deflation of religious pomposity, and an infuriating attack on faith that sadly lacks intellectual rigor.

We follow Maher on a sporadic trip around the US, the Middle East, and the UK, visiting sincere spiritual advocates ranging from the working class members of a truck-stop church in North Carolina, a violence-endorsing Muslim rapper in London, and the actor who plays Jesus at a Holy Land theme park. He asks academic theology questions and mocks the respondents for offering only platitudes; these scenes are intercut with footage of him making more fun of the unsuspecting target in a post-interview wrap-up chuckle with his director Larry Charles. The effect is rather like watching the string section of an orchestra standing in a circle and pointing with disdain at a homeless guy playing a three-stringed fiddle. It’s not pleasant; and it doesn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know: that there are some crazy people in the world. By the same token, of course, there are plenty of intelligent spiritual believers; just as there are plenty of unpleasant atheists. Maher’s film unfortunately does not engage with people whose faith has advanced obvious good in the world, nor those who approach God on the basis that God is at least as smart as we are and that we can talk about the Divine in terms that would not shame an evolutionary biologist.

Maher himself appears to be an intelligent guy – but his film risks being intellectually dishonest. If he is, as is claimed, genuinely interested in finding out why people believe what they believe, then why didn’t he interview any of the hundreds of well known spiritual leaders who bring intelligence, wit, and grace to their conversation; nor any whose faith has propelled them into acts of mercy and kindness? It’s not as if they’re hard to find: Let’s start with Archbishop Tutu, Dr Rowan Williams, and other Christian leaders in international peace processes to name only the most obvious; add to these the invisibility of perhaps more culturally relevant figures such as Andrew Sullivan, Anne Lamott, even Maher’s own friend Arianna Huffington, or any number of the folk who blog about progressive faith, and the failings of ‘Religulous’ become even more obvious. The fact that he ignores these people, combines with the overheated monologue that closes the film, with Maher’s polemic about religion edited against footage of bombs, angry preachers, and end-of-the-world scenarios (including some from my own home of Belfast, in which an IRA funeral is misappropriated to illustrate his point; while the conflict in and about Northern Ireland has some historic religious elements, IRA members would certainly disavow any suggestion that their fight was faith-based). It feels like Maher wrote this monologue before he went out on his journey; in which case the documentary is not an intelligent exploration of a vital issue, but a polemic based on cynical preconceptions.

Bill Maher has important questions to ask: why do some religious people do such bad things?; what is the relationship between faith and reason?; what should be the role of spirituality in politics?; is religion inherently dangerous? The problem with ‘Religulous’ is that he doesn’t ask these questions of people who can answer intelligently, nor does he allow for the possibility that one does not have to be an expert in something to be a fan.

I’d add a few questions of my own: why do the levels of theological literacy in public articulations of Christianity seem so pathetically low?; why do so many religious believers seem unable to articulate why they believe what they believe?; And how is it possible for a film that deals in part ostensibly with the role of Christianity in public life in the US not to even mention the greatest public advocate of a role for faith in the history of this country, Rev. Dr Martin Luther King, Jr?

However…I have to pause here, for as I re-read this article before submitting it for publication I realize that I may have fallen into an ancient trap, and in the process perhaps have simply reinforced Maher’s legitimate concerns. ‘First take the plank out of your own eye before figuring out what to do with the speck in someone else’s’ were the paraphrased words of another well known mystic, who doesn’t get as much attention in ‘Religulous’ as one might expect. There may well be a pretty big plank in my eye – for the truth is that one of the reasons Maher may feel emboldened to make his angry case is that people of faith have so often failed to make theirs. To make ours. To articulate a spirituality that is earthed in an appreciation of beauty, love of neighbor, and a humble, wide-eyed (but not empty-headed) wonder at the notion that Someone far greater than any of us may just be more present than we realize. If Christians can be made so easily to look boring, it is partly because we have not articulated a better story. If Christians are held in low regard because we are seen to be primarily concerned with issues of private morality and Puritanical codes, it is partly because we have not paid enough attention to reason and human experience as guides to interpreting our faith. If, in short, it is easy to portray Christians as stupid, spineless and dangerous, it is partly because we have failed to be loving, peaceable and brave.

A Call + Response to end Modern Slavery

2008-10-08T22:12:00.000+01:00

Last week two films were released that present propagandized visions of the United States. Bill Maher’s Religulous suggests that religion is poison and its adherents are crazy; the spoof An American Carol wants to say that questioning President Bush is itself an act of treason and critiques of the war in Iraq deserve no attention because they are inherently spineless. Both films are intellectually disingenuous and add little positivity to the current national debate. So it’s something of a relief to say that another piece of cinematic propaganda goes on a national tour of movie theatres this weekend, one whose moral compass is something of an antidote to the arrogance and victim mentality of An American Carol and Religulous in the form of a shocking expose of the horror of modern slavery: human trafficking. In Justin Dillon’s film Call and Response, the stories of the 27 million people currently in labor bondage are illustrated with graphic hidden camera footage and intercut with interviews and musical performances by the likes of Moby, Natasha Bedingfield, and Emmanuel Jal.

It’s a powerful film, in which interactions with the victims of trafficking speak for themselves. Talking heads such as Nicholas Kristof, former U.N. Ambassador John Miller, former U.S. Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, and actor Ashley Judd make the case that there are more people in slavery today than at the time of the abolition movement and outline the relationship between the arms and drug trade and the buying and selling of people. Human trafficking, bonding labor, and sexual slavery are vastly profitable businesses, and so the question of supply and demand is obvious. And you don’t need to look far for this horror, for even people who serve in your favorite restaurants may be subject to the oppression of not being able to make their own choices.

Everyone who sees this film will have their own most striking moment –- for me, when a former child prostitute says she was forced to service 1,000 men a year for six years, but can’t add up the total as she has never been to school, I had to pause watching for a while to absorb the extraordinary sadness of that statement. I was also shocked by the statistics. For example, the film claims that 1 million people are trafficked through the United States every year, but there have been only 50 related criminal convictions in the past decade.

These stories are so beyond our worst imaginings that this film provides nothing less than a prophetic community service: It exposes an unpalatable truth and cries out against injustice.

Important questions are alluded to, and hopefully the film will inspire people to find their own answers:

What are the economic roots of violence?

What is the relationship between recreational drug use and human trafficking?

What does it mean when we value products that may have been produced under oppressive conditions solely on the basis of their price?

How do we restore human decency in a world where even the Christian church is sometimes complicit in nurturing identities of shame and humiliation (which themselves contribute to the context where human trafficking can occur)?

How can the mid-level officials (police officers, hotel and restaurant managers, and others) who serve as intermediaries with those who use sex slaves be held accountable?

And, as Dr. Cornel West asks, “How do you convince a folk that are prone toward paralysis to keep on moving?”

The film does not prescribe particular forms of action, instead inviting the audience to ‘open source’ activism through dialoguing with others on its Web site and supporting organizations that are working to free slaves and end human trafficking. Perhaps the most important philosophical statement in the film is the suggestion that nostalgia for freedom movements of the past will get us nowhere. Only when people of passion and action get more committed to ending modern slavery than the slave owners are to perpetuating it will there be hope that a new abolition movement can succeed.

Dr. West also says that the only thing that slaves have is their voice and their bodies. Call and Response is a powerful attempt at representing the power and dignity in the words and faces of the oppressed. It deserves attention.

Call and Response will be released this Friday, with screenings organized across the U.S. For a list of screenings, see www.callandresponse.com.

Religulous Haiku

2008-10-06T07:08:00.001+01:00

Maher's a Believer

In the Church of I am right.

His dogma's scary

Duck

2008-09-24T12:40:00.001+01:00

I knew a guy at high school called Paul, but for some reason everybody called him ‘Duck’. It was one of those nicknames whose genesis was lost in the mists of whatever else it is you spend your teenage years doing. I remember going to see ‘Dead Poet’s Society’ (an extremely well-crafted but morally hollow film, to my mind) in 1989 at East Belfast’s Strand Cinema, which Van Morrison is photographed beside for the inlay cover art of ‘The Healing Game’ album, and where I saw more of the formative films of my 15th/16th/and 17th years than anywhere else. Duck came into the theatre just as the audience was almost fully seated, and so we called out to him: ‘DUCK!’ A few dozen people did.

That serves merely as a circuitous way into talking a little about a film I saw last night, called ‘Duck’, and for good reason. It’s about a man and a duck. The man is a widower, and earlier lost his son. The movie’s version of the US is a soulless place in which every tree is being colonised by shopping malls, and where psychiatrists mistake innocence for mental illness. The man, played by Philip Baker Hall, an actor who can genuinely be called ‘great’, not least because I usually feel exhilarated any time I see him, wanders around accompanied by the eponymous creature, a gorgeous goose, looking for the ocean. The movie doesn’t really hold together - it’s a fable whose critique of the breakdown of community is not exactly subtle or nuanced; but it’s absolutely worth watching for the central performance. Hall is so beguiling and sympathetic that he manages to invest the duck itself with a personality. It is easy to buy into their relationship, and not for a second - until after the film was over - did I think about the central absurdity and slightness of this film.

Lakeview Terrace

2008-09-23T14:40:00.002+01:00

The Number One film at the US box office this past weekend is 'Lakeview Terrace', Neil La Bute's somewhat thoughtful thriller in which an LAPD officer harasses his new neighbors; the cop is black, the neighbors are an inter-racial couple. If the ethnic identities were switched, the film might never have been made; and if it had, would have been a far less interesting film – it would have been a simplistic story about a white supremacist and the battle for people to be allowed to live in peace. Instead, 'Lakeview Terrace' aims to wrong-foot the audience into re-considering our preconceptions, and succeeds most of the time.

I planned to write a post here about the film, and how it's well photographed and mounted with imagination, and how Patrick Wilson is turning into my favourite same-generation-as-me actor, and how Samuel L Jackson reminds us of how he really can bring it when he's working for more than just a paycheck, and the exploration of racial tension, the psychological terrain of the police officer, the power dynamics in marriages when one set of in-laws is wealthy, and the simple concept of how an obsession with private property may be at the core of the breakdown of community (good fences in this film not only fail to make good neighbors, but become a tool for concealing the sinister agenda of the bloke next door).

I was going to write about how Neil La Bute's films (see 'In the Company of Men', 'Your Friends and Neighbors' and even the misbegotten remake of 'The Wicker Man') create a beguiling mood that is rare in contemporary mainstream cinema, and that he is at least trying to say something meaningful, even if the possible benefit of his purpose has to battle to float above the apparently a priori cynicism that is his modus operandi (two Latin phrases in one sentence might be the kind of thing that would impress a character in one of his movies). I was going to write about how, for the first hour or so, I felt close to compelled by 'Lakeview Terrace', and thought it had the potential to be one of the best films I've seen this year; before it turned into less than the sum of its parts, becoming ultimately a conventional thriller.

I was going to write about all of this, when I stumbled across a news item suggesting that Val Kilmer is considering running for Governor of New Mexico in 2010. And it made me wonder if there were a connection between the La Bute film (which wants to be taken seriously as a work of political fiction) and the small but significant tendency of Hollywood actors to think they are qualified to run states because they once wore a superhero cape. That thought didn't stick around long enough for me to be too preoccupied – and so I returned to reflecting on 'Lakeview Terrace'. I'm not quite sure what to make of it other than to say it's a well-made film, feels realistic (for part of its running time), but eventually trades its pretensions to being a serious intelligent work in exchange for the cheap thrill of an utterly conventional ending. In the clichéd climax, the film-makers may be critiquing the trigger-happy culture of the LAPD, or they may simply be giving the audience the ending they think they want. It's not clear. And in a sense it doesn't really matter, because the film is raising important questions that will only ever be answered by us out there in the dark. What does it mean to be a good neighbor? What lies at the core of prejudice? How important is home ownership to contemporary identity? How is it possible to de-escalate conflict when one of the parties seems simply irrational? (I might also add the following question: Why is the MPAA giving PG-13 ratings to more and more adult films these days?)

Randy Newman and the Fall of the American Empire

2008-09-05T22:36:00.001+01:00

Randy Newman might be surprised to see himself mentioned on a progressive spirituality blog. In his five decades of making music that is alternately brilliantly satirical and elegant (and sometimes both), he hasn't often smiled on religion or religious people. In spite of his skepticism about spirituality, he also has written some of the most beautiful love songs I've ever heard, and many of these are shot through with regret for his past mistakes.

The title song of his new record, Harps and Angels, sees him looking forward with a combination of reluctance and mystery to the prospect of his own death. At 64, he realizes that his time is short, and if the title song is to be believed, he may have come around to the idea that "there really is an afterlife." But the heart of the album is a quintet of songs in which Newman addresses the political, even spiritual landscape of the U.S. In quick succession, he names what ails the nation ("Y'all have lost faith in yourselves"), reminds listeners that the dream of "America" was built on the idea that everyone could have "a piece of the pie" (although few seem to care about current inequalities, says Randy, except protest singers), and makes some amusing (and provocative) assertions about just how to change things. The most impressive song on the album is a political tract. "Just a Few Words in Defense of our Country" speaks what is so often considered unspeakable in polite conversation -- the fact that we are living through a period in which the global political order we have known since the second World War is coming to an end. The song ends on a bleak note, with Newman bidding farewell on behalf of a U.S. that needs to relearn its place in a new international structure. He may be granted easy passage to say such a thing -- he's functioning much the same way as a medieval court jester, telling the king what he doesn't want to hear but wrapping it up in biting humour.

From my (hopefully) humbler position as an outside observer of the U.S., I think Newman is half right. The global order that we have known is clearly diminishing, and new relationships need to be negotiated. The fact that there will soon be a new U.S. president offers an opportunity for an energized and thoughtful approach. There will be very few people in Europe sorry to see President Bush leave office, and while international adulation for Barack Obama is obvious, there is also a recognition outside the U.S. that John McCain would at least try to rebuild the vastly diminished standing of the country if he is elected in November.

I can imagine the legitimate criticism for an Irish guy suggesting that the American empire is falling, and I would counter this by saying that I love the U.S. so much that I'm moving there next week (if you'll have me). I still see hope in the idea of the values that the U.S. at its best represents. Just for starters, there's a pioneering spirit, hospitality and kindness, the creative impetus, and a positive attitude about the future (serious theologians would call that something like "eschatological hope," I suppose). But I am also aware that limiting such hope to one nation's idea of itself has pretty tragic historical antecedents. I prefer to think in terms of the distinctive gifts and goals of a nation, and how they interact with those of the rest of the world. The U.S. has something special, which in recent times has been mislaid or perhaps even misappropriated by leaders who seem not to understand (or not to want to understand) that we are all in this together. Newman may well be right in asserting that the empire as we know it is falling, but answering the question of what will replace it is a task not just for politicians or provocative artists but for everyone who takes the common good seriously.

North by Northwest and what it (might) mean

2008-08-14T08:11:00.004+01:00

I saw 'North by Northwest' for the umpteenth time the other week - one of those 'comfort films' that makes me feel more at home in myself; nostalgia sometimes gets a raw deal these days, but if a work of art helps you integrate yourself at the end of a busy day, there's no shame in that. At any rate, what you remember when you watch 'N x NW' is the texture and colour on screen - Cary Grant's suit, Eva Marie Saint's red dress, the cement lines on the neck braces of the Mount Rushmore Presidential faces. I wrote the notes below on my last viewing, five or six years ago:

I have a problem with Alfred Hitchcock. His films have so comprehensively entered the popular consciousness that it is impossible to come to them fresh, perhaps even if we have never seen one before. Something about 'North by Northwest' prevents it from being a tense experience for me; similar to the fact that our folk knowledge of what happens in 'Psycho' prevents us from feeling excited or scared; even if we have never seen it, we know who did it, and why (s)he did. Thankfully, this doesn’t at all inhibit our delighted wonder at these works of genius. NXNW is perhaps Hitch’s most perfectly realized marriage of thrills and laughs, as a flamboyant anti-hero and cad Cary Grant is mistaken for a spy and spends the rest of the film running from (and into) James Mason’s heavies. His character’s name is “Roger O. Thornhill” – he says the “O” stands for nothing, and this is one hollow guy. I think this is a none-too-subtle way of representing the ROT of the upper middle class that Hitchcock, the working class miner’s son despised. He has a perfect tan and handmade shoes, like Grant himself, he’s a “little more polished than the others.”
The story is at once simple and convoluted – Thornhill is mistaken for a spy and kidnapped by some nefarious bad guys led by James Mason and his “special friend” Martin Landau. There are two chases – by car and plane (the buildup to which is a masterpiece of editing and mise-en-scene) – a couple of fights, and some spectacular set-pieces, a femme fatale (or is she?), a government conspiracy, and our hero gets the girl. What more could we want? But I think it is a mistake to see NXNW as a simple action comedy – it’s riddled with metaphorical bullets and aesthetic pleasures. For one thing, the dialogue is some of the most sparkling Hitch ever worked with. We discover that there is “no such thing as a lie, merely the expedient exaggeration.” Mason has a marvellous moment of villainy when he says, “The least I can do is afford you the opportunity of surviving the evening.” I was reminded of how funny it is on a recent viewing, when for example Grant says, “Not that I mind the odd case of abduction once in a while but I’ve got tickets for the theater tonight” or responds to “I’m a big girl” with “Yes, and in all the right places.” The story is beautifully structured, building mystery and tension (in spite of Grant’s inability to play drunk in a key scene; he’s clearly having a lot of fun, and so are we.) But there is much more than humour and action here – I think Hitchcock is using Grant’s character as a commentary on modern superficiality and relationships.

Thornhill is an advertising executive, and I guess some people might think you can’t get much more superficial than that; he runs away from his mother while being chased by people who want to kill him, so we get some of Hitch’s trademark misogyny and distrust of parents; the romance between Grant and the divine Eva Marie Saint is totally unconvincing – Cary can’t kiss for toffee; he’s so cold and unpassionate that if I thought Hitch were more cynical I would say he’s trying to make a point; this same point is alluded to in the relationship between Landau (one of Hitch’s stereotyped gay villains) and Mason – there’s all kinds of weird sexual stuff here, from Mason accusing Landau’s character of jealousy and saying he’s flattered to the downright crass – but hilarious – use of a train speeding through a tunnel as a saucy metaphor.
So, all in all, NXNW isn’t a particularly profound film, but it does present an archetype of anti-hero as cad. Thornhill is morally without foundation, he’s selfish and a user of women, but he’s enormous fun to be around (in small doses). The icy blonde is portrayed as far stronger and more intelligent, and Grant is obviously older than the actor playing his mother, so it’s pretty clear that Hitchcock doesn’t particularly like his protagonist. He’s the kind of guy you’d invite to a cocktail party but never go on holiday with – like Hannibal Lecter without the blood. NXNW is a story based on coincidence upon accident upon downright naïve construct switching back through predictable denouement, but still thoroughly entertaining. The use of soundstages is pretty awful – the trees even shake in one scene, and if this had been directed by somebody else, I’m almost certain it would not have the reputation. But, for what it is, the breeze that blows through NXNW is a refreshing one, and a pretty magnificent lesson in how to make a film.

More reflections on film and film-things at www.thefilmtalk.com

Religion and Politics

2008-08-06T20:10:00.002+01:00

There has been a recent controversy in northern Ireland regarding the role that some fundamentalist Christians wish their faith to play in politics - there is a huge conversation to be had about this, and I look forward to exploring it at Greenbelt in a few weeks' time - come and say hi if you're a reader - but for now, here's one small contribution:

When Senator Barack Obama recently addressed the role of religion in public life he said that religious politicians can no more divorce themselves from their convictions than can committed secularists. For we all bring a range of beliefs, experience, and prejudices to the table. But the problem arises when we offer no rationale for our policy positions other than referring to a religious or ideological text.

William Wilberforce, the British MP who campaigned for an end to the slave trade is often held up as an example of how faith should influence politics. No one would doubt that his view of scripture and the teachings of Christ led him to oppose the evil of human trafficking. But it may be inappropriate to use Wilberforce as a role model for traditionalist Christian activism today. Wilberforce did not simply uphold traditional Christian morality – if he had done so, the slave trade might have continued a lot longer than it did, for church authorities were often complicit in injustice themselves. No, in fact, what Wilberforce did was far more risky than simply siding with the religious establishment – on being confronted with the horrors of slavery, he reconsidered his theology in the light of experience and reason. In other words, he changed his mind about what he thought God believed. And he devoted his life to persuading others – using the same combination of scripture, reason and experience.

In that light, using Old Testament texts to maintain the status quo today does not represent the tradition of radical Christian activism personified by William Wilberforce. In fact, it may be doing the opposite.

What is most troubling in the debate is that faith-based activism has a lot more to be concerned about than the typical issues of private morality mentioned by some individuals and groups. Senator Obama made his remarks about religion and politics in a speech to a progressive Christian group in the United States, who have engaged with the vast issues of economic injustice, the dangers of climate change, racism, and the war in Iraq. This suggests another question to me: if William Wilberforce were around today, what aspects of religious faith would he criticize, and which oppressed groups would he defend? This is certain – religious power often comes late to the side of the oppressed; and good people are often proven wrong in even their most sincere convictions.

It should not surprise us when people of faith re-consider their beliefs, for religious faith is supposed to have conversion at its centre. The notion of change should not therefore be threatening to people of faith. And so, to put it simply, if we want to follow Wilberforce, might we start by asking ourselves: what part of our own religious traditions need to be converted?

Immigration

2008-07-30T15:58:00.003+01:00

The following is taken from the text of a Thought for the Day I presented on BBC Radio Ulster this morning.

In a few weeks’ time, I will make a life-changing journey. After 33 years of living in Northern Ireland, I am about to become an immigrant. I’m excited about this move,
not least because I believe that doing something new is one of the best ways to grow as a human being.

But two questions come to mind as I prepare myself for leaving home.

The first is, ‘What it will feel like to be an immigrant?’ Will I be welcomed by the people in my adopted country? Will I stand out? Will I have to sell newspapers at traffic lights or wait tables in restaurants where the indigenous population refuses to work? Will I have slogans painted on the wall of my house telling me to leave? Will I have to rely on churches and charities to defend my human rights? If there is something wrong with my visa, will I be handcuffed and detained indefinitely?

In considering my own imminent immigrant status, I am very aware of how often I have failed to welcome the people who have migrated to Northern Ireland recently. I have not always sought to see the good in the faces of people who have arrived here, often coming from difficult circumstances. I hope people will respond differently to me as I move overseas, and help me find a sense of home when I get there.

The second question is, ‘What I will miss when I leave?’ We have a reputation
for complaining in this society – but I want to remember what it is about being northern Irish that makes us all feel, at times, that this is the greatest place on earth.

Of course I’ll miss my friends and loved ones – and hopefully they’ll miss me too.

I’ll yearn for our sense of humour – especially the ability to laugh at ourselves.

In my mind’s eye, I’ll visualise the natural landscape – from the reward of the view after the walk up the Silent Valley to the way evening light hits the lough shore in Randalstown Forest.

And I will miss the sense of community that is bound together by our local media when they’re at their best.

Finally, of course, there is our extraordinary political experiment – the attempt to resolve a violent conflict without victory or defeat, but through agreeing to disagree, to put the past behind us, and to share power for the sake of all the people.

It’s got its teething problems, of course, but we are also often very hard on our politicians. So I want to end my last Thought for the Day as a Northern Irish resident with the hope that we might, after decades of complicated and painful relationships, be able to commit ourselves to something simple: to decide always, before we start complaining, to first do this: to try to see the good in each other.

Is 'Southland Tales' the new 'All the Pretty Horses'?

2008-07-22T12:45:00.002+01:00

I need your help, regarding a matter that may initially seem simple, but on closer reflection may well be the unanswerable question:

Justin Timberlake lip-synching to The Killers

Jon Lovitz as a racist cop

Sarah Michelle Gellar as a porn star investigative journalist

Dwayne Johnson as a much more famous version of himself

Wallace Shawn and Miranda Richardson together at last

Religious visions of the apocalypse and consumerism will eat itself scenarios

Some of the most striking visual images in US cinema of the past ten years

‘Strange Days’ meets ‘Memento’ meets ‘Blade Runner’ meets ‘Donnie Darko’ meets ‘The Greatest Story Ever Told’

I think.

So, to the question: can anyone tell me what the hell ‘Southland Tales’ is about?

It’s well-known (and obvious from watching it) that this movie has been cut to ribbons - which didn’t harm ‘Across the Universe’, a movie that I felt could have lost a couple more scenes and still been breathtaking; on the other hand, I still wait in vain for a director’s cut of Billy Bob Thornton’s ‘All the Pretty Horses’, which I genuinely think could be a masterpiece if the studio hadn’t exercised their prerogative to make great things worse by dividing them in two. ‘Southland’ comes from Richard Kelly, who in ‘Donnie Darko’ proved himself capable of both smart philosophy and cinematic poetry - sort of a Ferris Bueller meets Ingmar Bergman kinda guy; and so I want to believe that his next film is more than the sum of its parts. But watching it last night was … how should I say this? Confusing to the point of monotony? Maybe, but I’m open to a re-viewing with new lenses: and this is what I need you for: Is there any one among you who can tell me what I should do with ‘Southland Tales’?

Some Questions on Sexuality and Theology

2008-07-18T12:16:00.000+01:00

I once heard the Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams sum up his vision for what religious life could be when he defined Christianity in the following eight words: ‘God’s love in Jesus Christ is never exhausted’. As the Anglican Communion’s Lambeth conference prepares to meet it seems that this is a far cry from the dehumanizing language used recently by figures in church and politics alike, in interventions about theology and sexuality.

I think we’re missing the point. Religious people have developed a reputation for prudery and sexual repression, while the iconic images of sexuality in gossip magazines, television and other media rely far too much on simplistic notions of beauty, and the promotion of hedonism. Simply put, religious people aren’t supposed to be enjoying sex, while everyone else is supposed to be having it all the time.

But I think it goes even deeper than this – lots of people (and I count myself among them) struggle to see life itself as a gift freely given, with endless possibilities. Religion and secular ideology both often seem to trap people in a mindset of feeling unworthy of what some people call God’s love, and what might also be helpfully termed self-acceptance. Yet many of the important figures who shaped religious history seemed better at taking life for what it is than we are today; Martin Luther, who said ‘love God, and sin boldly’; St Augustine who preceded this with the parallel thought ‘love God and do what you want’; earlier still was Jesus, whose promise to his followers that they might have the most abundant life possible finds only a hollow echo in so much of religious life today.

So, where does this leave us? Well, as one Church of England priest said this week, I think that Christianity – my tradition - needs to get over its obsession with respectability. If we want to talk about theology and sexual orientation we should stop defining people exclusively in terms of their sexuality, we should really listen to the stories of people whose lives are the subject of the current theological debates, and we should spend at least as much time actively speaking out against homophobic attacks and replacing homophobic language with words and actions that respect people’s dignity. We need to recognize that the history of religious and political institutions alike includes changing their positions on a range of important issues – from slavery to race to gender. And maybe ultimately we need to take the risk of believing that a faith defined by the notion that God’s love is never exhausted might actually have something new to say to us about human relationships.

hancock - with spoilers, not that it matters

2008-07-16T07:30:00.003+01:00

so, here's what might have happened. some time ago, a coupla guys sat down to write the treatment for a new superhero movie. one of them had a pretty decent pedigree, having put together the scripts for about thirty x-files episodes; the other was newer to the task, but had proven his chops in the composition of one of the few jet li movies to manifest a grasp of film grammar - 'fearless' (not the fantastic peter weir-jeff bridges existential work of 1993, which if you haven't seen you should stop reading this and rent straight away). the idea goes something like this: let's do a movie about a superhero that looks a little different from the rest. let's do a movie about a superhero who doesn't know where he came from, or why he's here. let's do a movie about a superhero who wakes up regularly drunk and depressed, and causes mayhem every time he tries to save someone; leaving a trail of metallic wreckage throughout the urban landscape familiar from superbatspiderxmen movies of the past. let's make him unique: an unpopular superhero. let's put him on the receiving end of anger from the public; and in need of some redemption. let's mix things up a bit by making his only friend - in this case a p.r. consultant - married to a beautiful woman who feels a little strange around our protagonist. let's make the revelation at the centre of our story be that this superhero is the most truly tragic superhero in movie history. let's make him a lonely amnesiac who has been suffering a crisis of identity for over eighty years; and let's make the beautiful woman his wife of several thousand years, who, like him, does not age because she cannot. she has left him alone because - in a twist that is potentially up there with 'the usual suspects', 'the crying game' and 'taxi driver' - she is his superhero pair, and they have discovered that even though they love each other, when they are in physical proximity, their powers weaken, and they are vulnerable to attack. let's end the story with both of them nearly dead at the hands of their enemy, and deciding to part in order to save each other. sure, we can start the tale with a little humour, a little amusement, a little dance with the audience; but the point of this story is to pull our hero out of his lackadaisacal jokey reverie. the first half of the movie is 'mystery men' meets 'the long weekend' or 'days of wine and roses', and the second half is the secret love child of 'unbreakable' and the david banner full-of-pathos parts of 'the incredible hulk'. in that regard, it will be a rare thing: a mainstream hollywood movie that manages to be both entertaining and artful, dramatic and intelligent; honest about its own terms.

alas the realisation misses the mark - 'hancock' coulda been a contender, but ... have a listen to the film talk podcast for more on 'hancock' and other movie lore

'The Visitor'

2008-07-15T09:57:00.004+01:00

On the film podcast that I co-host with Jett Loe, we haven’t invested a lot of time in the ongoing conversation discussing smaller, independent-style movies; there’s no agenda there - it just happens that way. But we will be talking about 'The Visitor', after I saw it last week. It deserves serious attention.

In keeping with our policy of not discussing the film in advance of the show, I’ll have to keep my deeper opinions to myself for now; but I think I can get away with this: ‘The Visitor’ deserves your time because it is a serious attempt at telling a story about people who feel real, and who encounter real problems and hopes (grief, the possibility of new friendship, the tortuous negotiation of the US immigration system, learning to play the djembe); some people may say that one of the reasons they don't consider contemporary US ‘indie’ drama to be a source of enthusiasm is that these films are rarely told with visual flair, and in that regard, why not just make them into plays or novels? And I think that is often right. But Tom McCarthy, whose previous film is the utterly beguiling ‘The Station Agent’, knows how to frame human beings talking, and while what’s in the physical image is important, I think that a movie that conveys heart but may lack the photographic nuance of Henri Cartier-Bresson (or Henri Alekan, or Vilmos Zsigmond, or Robert Elswit) might still end up being the most engaging film I’ve seen all year.

herbie hancock's 'river'/ ry cooder's 'i, flathead'

2008-07-14T00:18:00.003+01:00

i rarely write about music here, partly because i don't feel qualified to do so, and mostly because i struggle to capture the meaning of sounds in words, but i've been so touched by two new(ish) albums over the past fornight that i had to mention them. herbie hancock's 'river' - a love letter to joni mitchell from the jazz pianist whose playing can be evoked but not circumscribed by images of eating chocolate, or lying in a hot salt spa, of breathing deeply on a balcony balmy night, or maybe just the words 'it's bloody amazing', and ry cooder's 'i, flathead' - an acclamation of youthful days when the most exciting thing in the world was driving a cool car and trying to get a cute girl to catch your eye ... hancock's music drove me home last night; cooder's made me think. i'm going to stop writing and listen to corinne bailey rae sing 'river', and leave you with the thought for the day i wrote for radio ulster last week.

"You know when you hear a wonderful piece of music for the first time, and it captures your attention so much that you just have to hear it again straight away? Last week it happened to me when I heard a new song by Ry Cooder, the slide guitarist and facilitator of the amazing band of elderly Cubans, the Buena Vista Social Club. Cooder has a new album out with the impossibly brilliant title ‘I, Flathead’, an older man’s love songs to the feeling of being young, and learning the romance of driving a really cool car.

The album is about the exuberant exhiliration of living completely free, which a friend of mine likes to describe as dancing like no-one’s watching. When you apply this idea to the rest of life – to the choices we make every day, from what to eat to what route to take to work, to who to live with, and what to do with the years we have on earth, it’s a useful corrective to the monotonous patterns many of us seem stuck in.

Research shows that when you ask elderly people about their regrets, they tend to agree that if they had it over again, they would take more risks. They might choose a different career path with less financial security because it would be more psychologically rewarding. They might take the trip they always avoided because they didn’t speak the local language. They might, as Shakespeare has Edgar say in ‘King Lear’, ‘speak what we feel, not what we ought to say’.

What would it mean to follow this advice, and ‘dance like no-one’s watching’? Some of us today need to be reminded that no matter what the circumstances of our lives, what has happened to us, or how we have fallen short of our own ambitions or values, we still have freedom to choose to get back in the game. We can take the risk we’ve always avoided. Today might be the day that someone listening picks up the phone and calls an old lover, who turns out to have been waiting for years to hear from them; or someone else quits the job that deadens their soul, and pursues the creative dream that has lain dormant since they were a teenager; or someone else decides to stop allowing the pain of past trauma to prevent them living a life where the only limit is their own vision of the possible.

Today, someone’s going to dance like no-one’s watching, someone’s going to speak what they feel, not what they ought to say, someone’s going to get back in the game – it doesn’t matter which metaphor you use: but if today is a day for someone to free themselves from whatever unnecessary restrictions they have allowed to hold them back, why shouldn’t that someone be you?"

the savages

2008-07-08T14:48:00.006+01:00

'the savages' has a joke for a title, in that it implies we haven't progressed much as a race since the prehistoric times when throwing bones in the air was the height of creativity, or even more recently, when the european medieval homicide rate was 50% in some places (you had a one in two chance of being murdered by someone you knew in the days of the black plague, the early inquisition, and orlando bloom's inter-faith dialogue). 'the savages' is about siblings trying to care for the elderly father who didn't treat them well, and whom they don't like very much. in that sense, it is about living and dying, and, in the context of contemporary medical culture - which can keep people alive far longer than ever before, leading to the inevitable fact that one day, someone is going to have pull the plug. savage indeed. or at least potentially so.

there are dozens of movies about 'dying well' - from 'stepmom' to 'terms of endearment'; and even though these have a reputation for over-egging the sentimentality, i don't mind them that much. we all have to deal with the death of loved ones; this is hard enough without taking away the comfort that a 'soft' movie might bring to the bereaved. though, of course, in these movies debra winger and susan sarandon don't exactly die like we do in real life.

'the savages' wants to present something more honest; and in philip seymour hoffman and laura linney's brother and sister pair, and most especially philip bosco's father, portrays a painful little play. these are characters with whom you sympathise, rather than like. they make bad decisions. they are self-centered. they have a little bit of heart. it feels like real life.

no magic solutions present themselves; but facing the death of a parent does in some sense help the children grow up, if only a little. and the movie ends with a motif that some may find grating, but i think is one of the most honestly life-affirming images in the movies.

read more of my film posts and the ongoing conversation with jett loe at the film talk website

walker: the anti-wanted

2008-07-05T17:38:00.004+01:00

alex cox is one of those film-makers with a committed following among people who have managed to discover his work against the odds: his movies don't get shown in too many multiplexes, and you're not likely to find a trailer for them on websites linked to 'people' magazine. most of us know him for the weirded-out sci-fi/property developer film 'repo man', but i just spent part of a cold and sunny saturday afternoon in the company of 'walker', his 1987 piece about the involvement of an early form of neo-con 'take over the world' impetus in mid-19th century nicaragua.

in this movie, massive-scale violence is the inevitable corollary of imperialism, and (bad) religion and (selfish) politics combine to produce a sorry mess; one whose legacy still unfolds today. william walker, as played by the mighty ed harris, is what james mcavoy's character in 'wanted' would become if he ever hired a spin doctor. and the difference between 'walker' and 'wanted' is that alex cox understands that it's possible to make an entertaining film about violent people without falling in love with them.

Wanted

2008-07-04T22:53:00.002+01:00

well, now that i've seen it, certainly not by me.

this is one of the most grotesque, patronising, blunt-edged, monotonous films i've ever seen. the question of what kind of meaning we bring to our own lives is an important one; and movies of course can be as good as any other creative media at exploring it. but 'wanted' appears to suggest that the two options available to every ordinary bloke today are simply these: act out the role of vladimir or estragon, droning away at an office on stage at a theatre of the absurd, or to kill everyone you meet. 'what the f*** have you done lately?, asks james mcavoy before the hard electric guitars start over the end credits, underlining the nihilism he's just given his soul to. well, for one thing, i know something i'm not going to waste my time doing again.

hope and dealing with the past

2008-07-02T10:06:00.001+01:00

A Thought for the Day that I gave on BBC Radio Ulster this morning

We talk a lot these days about dealing with the past; which in itself is a pretty deep concept. I’m convinced it’s far better to try to address the profound sorrow of our recent history than to bury it along with our dead. And yet, talking and thinking about the past can leave us trapped in it – we may find ourselves spiraling into a cycle of revenge in which our conversations are colonized by blaming each other for the pain with which we allowed ourselves to be defined. It brings to mind the image of a person tied to a waterwheel trying to stay dry, and managing to keep out of the water for a few moments at a time. But the wheel just keeps on turning, and the person never lets go.

Where does hope come from in a world where we remain fixed on sorrow? It’s easy to be superficial about hope. It’s easy to talk about the well-known figures of historic peace and justice movements who are held up as examples that we should follow. But, with all due respect to the Gandhis and Martin Luther Kings of this world – because God knows we owe them respect – sometimes I think they are not the most helpful icons of how ordinary people might live peaceably – and hopefully – in a difficult world. To start with, they were public figures, leading public lives. Most of us, naturally, are not scrutinized as they were. We have to get on with the business of finding meaning amidst ordinary work, family pressures, bad weather and mortgages.

So let me offer this story instead. A friend of mine once asked a Holocaust survivor what he feels when he hears a German accent. The man, who had nearly died in a Nazi concentration camp said, ‘It took days for the train to take me to the camp. In the early hours of each morning, the train stopped for a break. And every morning, German villagers came out of the woods, and put food through the slats of the train to feed us. So when I hear a German accent, before I allow myself to think: That person might be the son of the people who tried to kill me; I think: That person might be the son of the people who tried to feed me.’

The story should speak for itself; but if any interpretation is needed, to me this story speaks of how hope does not to have to rely on the future actions of our enemies, whoever we consider them to be, but on the fact that they had more in common with us to begin with than we may ever have realized.

in defence (?) of m night shyamalan (part 2)

2008-07-01T10:04:00.002+01:00

as for lady in the water, here's what i wrote on its release two years ago:

M. Night Shyamalan believes in magic, and he wants us to as well.

He also has an inflated sense of himself.

This is not unreasonable, given that his first major film ‘The Sixth Sense’ launched him at the turn of the millennium as a Hollywood wunderkind, capable of making thrillers so tight they were worthy of the adjective ‘Hitchcockian’, and even seared a new phrase ‘I see dead people’ onto the cultural lexicon. He followed ‘The Sixth Sense’ with another Bruce Willis-starrer, ‘Unbreakable’ – a film that captured the minds of many a Pentecostal youth leader eager to talk about the weight of spiritual vocation, a theme underlined by his next film ‘Signs’, in which the then uncontroversial Mel Gibson (oh how times have changed) played – of all things – a Lutheran pastor in the midst of a crisis of faith. He remained the critics’ (and the audience’s) darling until 2004, with the release of his post-9/11 analogy ‘The Village’, among whose many fans are myself and only one other person I can think of. It’s clear that he loves movies, and that he wants to conjure the same feeling we all used to share as children transfixed by the happenings on-screen – Magic.

And this is what he’s trying to do with ‘Lady in the Water’, a self-styled ‘bedtime story’ about a mermaid/angel hybrid called Story who arrives in an apartment complex in 2006, to warn its residents of how far humanity has strayed from the path of good. Or at least that’s what the opening titles suggest. This notion – that there is ancient wisdom that could save us, if only we would return to the Source – has obvious Christian resonances, that echo in all of Shyamalan’s other films, but the Story in this movie either loses the point, or fails to make it clear in the midst of a somewhat incoherent narrative.

To be sure, there are visual flights of fancy (shot by Christopher Doyle – Wong Kar-Wai’s photographer of choice) that entranced me, and the central performance from Paul Giamatti proves that ‘Sideways’ was not a one-off. But it’s never clear just what Shyamalan is trying to convey through his disappointed characters, and the none-too subtle repetition of television reports of how awful the world news is. Indeed, after the first hour, when I realised that the story wasn’t really the sum of its parts, I found myself feeling bored for the first time in one of his films. There are myths, there are monsters, there are quirky characters aplenty – from a body builder committed to working out one side of his body only to a film critic who meets a sticky end (Shyamalan is clearly a man to bear a grudge)…but there is no overall sense of what the film is really about, or even who it’s for. Is it about one man’s pain, or the whole society’s fear of global terror? Is it about the spiritual vacuum in our world, does it champion or does it critique the gung ho vigilantism that could be a caricature of the Bush administration? Is it merely (and maximally, for these matters are not without merit) an attempt at creating a new fairy tale?

The reason the answers to these questions remain ambivalent is that I’m not sure Shyamalan has decided who his audience is. The film is so convoluted in places, and demands so much attention that it wouldn’t be out of place in a festival of surrealism. And in that context, it might be welcomed as an at least intelligent attempt at post-modern storytelling. But if this is the case, then Shyamalan is guilty of wanting to have his arthouse cake and eat it in a multiplex. A film that is marketed as a scary fairy tale for all the family needs to be a scary fairy tale for all the family, and not a complex narrative about guilt and loss if we’re not going to feel unnecessarily confounded.

Perhaps the key to understanding ‘Lady in the Water’ is the scene in which the film critic claims to know more about the story teller’s intentions than the story teller himself. It’s obvious, and even quite amusing to see Shyamalan take his revenge on the critical family who appeared to mass ranks against him on the release of his last film. However, this attempt at being self-referential leads him to appear ultimately egotistical in the worst sense – in the final analysis, ‘Lady in the Water’ becomes a film about how Important the director thinks his work is. He even plays a character who is told of his cultural and political significance by a divine being (a plot element that would seem less egregious had he not played the character himself). This makes the film at least interesting to those of us who care about peace, justice, and what in ‘Superman Returns’ - another film with Christian resonance released this summer - was referred to as ‘all that stuff’. But it left me only with a feeling of disappointment, confusion, and the desire to sit down and have a good conversation with the director about his worldview and motives, rather than watching the film again. It still has more imagination and ambition than ‘Pirates of the Carribean’ and every other summer blockbuster put together, and perhaps we should be grateful that with ‘Lady in the Water’, Shyamalan has finally broken free of his apparent need to have a major plot twist at the movie’s climax. Next time around, let’s hope he doesn’t forget the plot in the first place.

For thoughts on 'The Happening', check in with www.thefilmtalk.com this Friday...

in defence of m night shyamalan

2008-06-30T09:43:00.004+01:00

ok ok ok

so let's begin with the obvious point about m night shyamalan

it's popular to do him down

so much so that it's easy to forget how much 'the sixth sense' appeared as a remarkable eruption of new talent - a film that managed to get pretty much everything right. and while my mum did predict the twist about 40 minutes in, i think she's in a tiny minority. that film was an elegant piece, that defined 'thriller' as something more than just a mystery story, but one which actually engaged my emotions, and made me think about life and love. and how bruce willis can bring it to the table when he has the right material and director.

'unbreakable', the follow up, which philip french in the observer newspaper rightly described as representing the reason why shyamalan's style - more than any other contemporary director - deserves to be called 'hitchcockian', was about the inner turmoil of a superhero. it's the anti-hancock, and has more drama and reflective pathos than any of the other recent superspiderhulkxman movies you could pick.

'signs' showed signs indeed of shyamalan's possibly simplistic worldview (which seems to be a variation of 'everything happens for a reason' or something like that) , but still managed to be a terrifically entertaining 'bad things lurking outside your window' story. and - this is the key to appreciating his work - showed an increasing mastery of film grammar, camera movement, editing, and knowing how to make an audience feel something.

'the village', which has caused its fair share of arguments among friends, was almost universally denounced, although i happen to think it's a masterpiece, and i use that word very rarely. two things come to mind: this film dares to take seriously the implications of the language used around 9/11 and the 'war on terror' to propose that the consequences of political fear-mongering will ultimately include the death of your own children - and perhaps this idea is simply too horrifying to absorb; secondly, i think critics confused this film with another genre. they thought that because it was shyamalan, and because it was scary, that that made it a horror film, when actually it's one of the most moving love stories i've ever seen.

i'll get to 'lady in the water' and 'the happening' later - for now, let the record show, i think the best way to understand m night shyamalan is to think about him the way philip french used to: he is trying to make hitchcock films. whether or not he is succeeding is not the point - actually, the more interesting question, for me, is whether or not hitchcock is as profound as he is usually assumed to be.

life in a media circus

2008-04-17T19:38:00.002+01:00

I've been traveling lately, and in various hotels and friends guest rooms, have seen more TV than usual. This sojourn away from my usual ignorance of broadcast television has provided the following dubious delights:

• Fox's "Moment of Truth" game show, which really does turn real life into a game, and has apparently bribed at least one marriage into oblivion through paying for public confessions of adultery. (I expect the show's producers might try to tell us that the show teaches something else about personal responsibility, or that's all in good fun, or that the contestants are there by their own informed volition; or we may even discover that the show has been lying to us and faking it. But here's the real moment of truth: when the host says, "some of these questions are way over my line," and yet still asks them, has he himself not become the definition of insanity?)

• CNN rampantly advertising Larry King's exclusive interview with Jesse Ventura as if his non-campaign for the presidency was almost as important as Jessica Simpson's non-engagement and non-pregnancy.

• Various entertainment clip shows dedicated to matters such as Robin Williams' divorce, and the Tom Cruise birthday party video.

• And in the past week, major news networks hysterically talking as if the sad events surrounding a Texas polygamous sect are just waiting to happen to your children; and the ridiculous and over-the-top response to Senator Obama's attempt at explaining an utterly uncontroversial reality: that being economically disenfranchised can make you feel entrenched. This is amusingly accompanied by the absurd suggestion that there has ever been a U.S. President who did not somehow arrive in the White House linked to the economic 'elite'.

Most of us would like to believe that we have come a long way since the Roman circus – where human beings killed people for our entertainment - or even the Victorian circus - where we only abused the disabled and disadvantaged. Today's circus may look like it only mocks the powerful – with the fabulously wealthy being humiliated as they emerge drunk and bloodied from a nightclub, or photographed while getting an embarrassing haircut. But I think we're kidding ourselves if we think people are not harmed by the pornography of social humiliation offered up 24/7. Amy Winehouse's visible bruises and alleged substance abuse problem, and Britney Spears' obvious mental illness are not legitimate fodder for our entertainment, no matter how economically powerful these two women may be.

To read the rest of this post on the God's Politics blog, click here.

something worth taking a moment out of your day for

2008-04-10T02:06:00.002+01:00

i don't usually post links for their own sake, but my brother in boston just sent me this.

it's one of the most moving short films i've ever seen.

saved by the bell

2008-04-09T06:03:00.003+01:00

ok friends

you can rest easy.

after last week's threat-filled dilemma, i'm back to my usual self.

having feared for the very life of cinema itself, i spent almost six hours in two separate darkened rooms today, watching a brand new movie, and one that's over a quarter of a century old.

both were magnificent.

i had never seen bergman's 'fanny and alexander', so when the opportunity arose at the rather lovely duke university free screen society to see it on a nice public screen, i made plans to be there. i need to think about it for a while before i say anything else, so let this suffice: i think i saw something wonderful tonight, and imagine i feel somewhat differently about the world than bergman. the notion that you can never be free of your ghosts seems to me not to chime with reality. people make peace with the past all the time. i hope that bergman's life was less debt-ridden than his art.

and the other film, much less serious than bergman's, but nonetheless beautiful - scorsese's rolling stones' concert film 'shine a light' - an exhilirating, exuberant, often hilarious and incredibly exciting film. i was the only guy in the audience and was delighted. the sound's great, and the images are utterly cinematic - i couldn't quite figure out why this movie was restoring (some of) my faith in cinema, but then i realised that these boys are ultimately some of the world's consummate performers. they belong on a movie screen.

charlie watts is the eric morecambe of rock'n'roll, doing comedy huffs and winks at the camera, and needing to be helped down off his rostrum. mick is old enough to be your grandad but more alive than most teenagers. ronnie wood is the sniggering kid, hiding his smokes from his mum, and looking down girl's blouses. and keith - well, it's easy to lionise the guy (and demonise too), but i'll stay out of that. let's just say this: he knows he's lucky to be alive, and seems to spend most of his time in a state of stunned enjoyment. there's a moment at the end of the movie
when the music is done, and he's kneeling on the ground, holding the neck of his guitar, his eyes closed and lips pursed in an obvious prayer. in four years' time, the stones will have been together for fifty years. there's not a lot about their music that could be called socially mature, but they've been expressing truth and angst about the human heart for as long as i've been alive, and half as long again. and scorsese has made a gorgeous, thrilling film about them.

and in a weird confluence, both of the films i saw today are in some part about the same thing: the role women play in men's lives. it's been a very good day at the movies for me.

the complexity of charlton heston

2008-04-07T19:41:00.001+01:00

Charlton Heston died this weekend at age 84, following Roy Scheider and Richard Widmark as the latest in a series of powerful cinematic actors to pass away -- although Heston was probably best known to a younger generation as the old guy who walked out of a Michael Moore interview in Bowling for Columbine. His was an ambivalent life – living through 14 presidencies (and personally befriending several of the most recent occupants of the office), supporting civil rights when it was unfashionable, switching his political allegiances, and latterly becoming identified with right-wing causes. Not often a subtle actor (although you could do worse than watch his performance in Orson Welles' Touch of Evil as a tribute), he represented a particular kind of vanishing screen presence who, like John Wayne, represented a vision of American greatness that depended far too much on the suggestion of invulnerability.

So, now that he is gone, what do you say about Charlton Heston? Something simple: He shouldn't be judged on the basis of one interview, given after a diagnosis of Alzheimer's disease to a door-stopping filmmaker known for his pranks.

He should be judged on his contribution to the movies -- doing gravitas better than anyone else, standing as our image of Moses, Ben-Hur, various military captains, the head of the CIA, and ultimately a particular kind of god figure. I never saw a Heston performance that didn't entertain me on some level.

And, in the interests of full disclosure, he should also be judged on his political activity. The simplistic analysis of the relationship between personal freedom and gun ownership offered by the National Rifle Association, which Heston did so much to bolster, seems outrageous to my Northern Irish ears. In his speeches to and on behalf of the NRA, Heston also sometimes seemed to lack empathy for the victims of gun crime, in his attempts to promote his contentious understanding of the U.S. Constitution.

At the same time, he was an early supporter of the civil rights movement, and even picketed a screening of one of his own films because it was being screened in a racially segregated cinema. He also made several films, such as Soylent Green, The Omega Man, and Planet of the Apes, that endorsed environmental and anti-nuclear causes at a time when it wasn't as easy to engage the public mind in these matters.

To continue reading this post on the God's Politics blog, click here.

cinematic shame

2008-04-03T03:31:00.001+01:00

hello there

i have a confession and a cry for help, all rolled into one.

i have spoken with my colleague jett loe about this, and he has expressed his empathy. but i feel i must share this story with you, dear reader, in the hope that you might be able to assuage my fears.

yesterday i took advantage of a couple of hours away from my labours and bought a ticket at one of the local nashville multiplexes, for a film that looked to any reasonable viewer that it might pass the time, if not enjoyably, at least with a few moments of entertainment. failing that, some light dancing on a white screen has always served as a counter to the monotony of a tuesday afternoon.

after 45 minutes of the film had passed, i found myself gasping for a reason to stay. this film, which i do not wish to name, for it has already had enough publicity, was so derivative, so formulaic, so utterly without interest or merit that i had become bored enough, as mr loe once said to me, that i wanted to eat my own hair.

i attempted to steel myself for the possibility that something would eventually happen to pique - or resurrect - my interest. such as laurence fishburne turning in the kind of performance he used to. but then i realised something.

i was embarrassed.

even though i was alone in the cinema, and nobody else knew i was there, i was actually beginning to feel ashamed that i had spent six bucks fifty on this movie.

my inner monologue told me that i had enough self-respect left to choose life.

and so i left the cinema, and didn’t look back, lest i see the destruction facing the rest of the audience, and turn to a pillar of salt.

in the hope of purifying my spirit, i decided to step into the next screen and see what was playing there.

then i visited the next screen.

and the next.

‘tyler perry’s meet the browns’

‘drillbit taylor’

‘vantage point’

‘10 000 bc’ (on which more in the next thefilmtalk episode)

and, sweet merciful lord

’superhero movie’

after my embarrassment had dissipated, i was faced with a terrible question, one that my colleague mr loe has been asking himself for far longer than i:

do notable exceptions ultimately do nothing so much as prove the rule:

that cinema is dead?

r.i.p.

2008-03-20T14:49:00.002Z

ladies and gentlemen it’s hard to believe - but this week sees three significant film-related deaths, with the sad losses of anthony minghella, arthur c clarke, and paul scofield.

jett loe on www.thefilmtalk.com has already said that minghella was a genuine ‘big’ film maker, and nick james, editor of ’sight and sound’ suggests that he was the natural heir to david lean; all i’ll add is that i never saw a film by him that i didn’t like, and i could watch ‘the talented mr ripley’ any time - for its rhythm, for its performances, for its music, and for the way it gets under the skin of how loneliness can turn into neurosis.

what do you say about arthur c clarke? i grew up with his ‘mysterious world’ tv show; i can replay his gutteral voice in my mind, i had my imaginative horizons expanded when i read his book ‘rendezvous with rama’; but, beyond all that, ‘2001′ is one of those movies that leaves me feeling like i’ve seen the greatest film ever made, every time i see it. people suggest that all he brought to it was scientific nuance - but his sense of wonder at the possibility of there being intelligent life elsewhere in the universe is clear.

and then there is paul scofield. ‘a man for all seasons’, ‘king lear’, ‘quiz show’, ‘the crucible’ - do yourself a favour: take your pick, and watch one this weekend. he may have had the accent of a pompous theatrical knight - but this guy knew how to act.

the return of film talk

2008-03-07T04:06:00.003Z

all good things to those who wait - after a nearly 9 month long hiatus, enough time for a new human life to be created, jet tloe and i have returned to our podcast, now re-born and re-christened 'the film talk'. find it on i-tunes or at thefilmtalk.com

and let us know what you think.

the moral pulse of the oscars

2008-02-16T12:28:00.001Z

The Oscars are a little under two weeks from now - with the threat of the writer's strike leading to an unexpected interruption of one of the most surreal nights of the pop culture year now gone. Rich and famous folk slapping each other on the back, handing out gold statuettes for works of art that many of us haven't seen. It has always surprised me how the winning speeches rarely seem to mention the films that have led to their success – family members, agents, even pets get name-checked – but few awardees talk about the feelings the film may have stirred in the audience. It's as if the heady emotions that are caused at the cinema are too … human … to talk about at something so tawdry as an awards ceremony. Just imagine Jack Nicholson or Nicole Kidman or Will Ferrell discoursing on questions such as the power dynamics in The Godfather, or the sense of loss in American Beauty, or the hope exemplified in Magnolia on the Kodak Theatre stage, and you'll get the picture.

But every now and then, of course, we get the kind of standout moment exemplified by Michael Moore's none-too-subtle attempt at culturally impeaching the president by invoking both the Dixie Chicks and Pope John Paul II at the red-carpetless ceremony that took place just a few days after the war in Iraq began in 2003. In spite of its clunkiness, here at least was a sincere stab at using one of the biggest platforms on earth to make a difference for the common good.

The interesting thing this year is that the films speak for themselves as ethical statements. Each of the five Best Picture nominees represents a high quality attempt at exploring a question of morality, and each takes its purpose seriously enough to propose a response that could stand alongside the kind of ethical positions people who seek to embody progressive spirituality might take.

To continue reading this post on the God's Politics blog, click here.

remembering john o'donohue

2008-02-04T15:23:00.000Z

The following is taken from a short address I gave as part of the memorial service for John O’Donohue, which was held in Galway on Saturday 2nd February 2008. The photo to the right is of two pilgrims with the beautiful John, in September 2007.

The first time I had a proper conversation with John O'Donohue, it ended with him responding to my invitation for him to participate in a peace-building initiative in Belfast by saying,
‘I think I’m beginning to become involved’. At the time he was referring only to a speaking engagement, but little did I know that he was also going to become involved in my life as a beloved friend, one of the most life-enhancing people I’ve ever known, and a man so in touch with his real self that his goodness was always on the surface, no matter what was going on in his life.

The last time I spent a day alone with him was in July last year, in this very city, beginning only a few hundred yards from where I stand right now. We had arranged to meet on a Sunday evening, but by 9 o’clock that morning I was experiencing an attack of anxiety and depression, no rare thing for a writer, but all I wanted to do was to go home and be alone in my own space.

When I rang John to cancel our evening, he happened to be on the outskirts of the city, and he insisted that we at least meet for 15 minutes. We found ourselves at the McDonalds restaurant car park by the Omniplex cinema – a place which ordinarily I would not consider sacred territory, but now I believe proves John’s assertion that everything can be holy. He bought me both an orange juice and a coffee, invoking his notorious over-reliance on quoting advertisements for L’Oreal haircare products, and telling me he’d get me both ‘because you’re worth it’.

He then said words that I will always hold in my heart; ‘If you need to be in your own space to be depressed, I totally understand, but if all you’re going to do is be depressed, then come and spend the day with me, and we can be depressed together. Because I love you today, and I will love you forever.’

I think you’ll agree that it is a far better deal to be depressed with John O’Donohue than to be depressed on your own. and so, even though his day was busy, we spent the next 24 hours together, as I went with him to the anniversary mass he celebrated for an old friend, and onto his home at Gleann Treasna, where we talked about depression and anxiety, and I felt the healing balm of his friendship over cigars and whiskey by the fire.

I cooked him dinner, and we ate as a spectacular burnt orange sun went down. After dinner, we watched the Coen Brothers’ deliriously funny and smart film version of Homer’s Odyssey ‘O Brother Where Art Thou?’, and laughed the kind of deep laughter that comes only when friends have let their guard down. After the movie, he hugged me goodnight, and I went to sleep on his profoundly uncomfortable sofa. In the morning, he made me porridge and coffee, and then I drove back to Belfast, filled with a sense of well-being, and with insights into my own life that still reverberate in me today, but most of all, with the knowledge of the love of my beloved friend.

********************************

Several years ago, John O’Donohue said to me, ‘I think I’m beginning to become involved’, and it is one of the richest blessings and deepest privileges of my life to acknowledge here today that, for those of us whom he loved, he is still involved.

Juno

2008-01-31T17:43:00.000Z

Last night I finally saw Juno, Roger Ebert's favorite film of 2007 and recipient of four Oscar nominations, which has as its center the story of an unplanned pregnancy and the people affected by it. The protagonist, Juno MacGuff, played by Ellen Page in one of those so-good-she's-either-brilliant-or-really-like-that-in-real-life performances, is a misfit attracted to her male mirror image. Wiser beyond her years, slightly jaded by life and negotiating the pitfalls of the high school psychological assault course, she responds to her pregnancy by initially seeking an abortion – and the nonchalance with which she is treated is the only thing sadder than the unthinking speed with which she makes the decision. She is greeted by a lone protestor – the sole representative of institutional Christianity in the movie – as young as her, who, while a welcome change from the angry fundamentalist stereotype, may know as little about adult life as Juno does about the experience of pregnancy she's about to have. But something unsettles Juno, and she is unable to go through with the termination. Instead, she plans to have the child and help a couple seeking to adopt.

And that's it – the rest of the film is a deceptively simple story, taking Juno through the following months, her relationship with family, her best friend, and Paulie Bleeker – the dude she hung out with a little too late one night. There's not much to the tale at first glance, but I found the way in which it is told (by writer Diablo Cody and director Jason Reitman – son of Ivan, who brought us Ghostbusters and the wonderful presidential satire Dave) – so utterly beguiling that by the time the film was over I wanted to go straight back to the start to rediscover these characters all over again.

Click here to continue reading this post on the God's Politics blog.

Sweeney Todd and the spiral of violence

2008-01-17T23:28:00.000Z

Tim Burton's striking and gruesome film adaptation of Stephen Sondheim's musical 'Sweeney Todd' made me feel alternately impressed by Johnny Depp's singing talent and wince at the violence. The story of a 19th century barber who avenges the loss of his wife and daughter by providing the closest shave ever to a litany of customers including the judge who caused his pain left me preoccupied by thoughts closer to home.

If the film is trying to make a serious point, it is that Sweeney's spiral of violence never ends. The previous night I had attended a meeting of the Consultative Group on the Past – a body established by the UK Government to examine methods of helping the people of Northern Ireland to address the legacy of our own violent recent history. Two things were clear from the comments made at this meeting by members of the public: first, that the levels of genuine sorrow in this society are unfathomable – families ripped apart, minds taken to the edge of destruction, small communities shattered. This is real, and not interpretation. Second, we often lack the ability to empathise with the pain of the 'other' community. It is all too easy to see 'our' pain as exclusive, and to become blind to the suffering of the community on the other side of a political divide.
Continue reading this post on the God's Politics blog.

i'm not there

2008-01-17T11:05:00.000Z

there's a degree to which there could be no other title for a bob dylan biopic than 'i'm not there', todd haynes' never less than intriguing take on the life of the man who either represents dedication to hiding greater than any other artist, or reveals all there is to know in his music.

it's a very smart idea to have six actors play characters inspired by the dylan myth; something feels entirely right about having a young black kid, a woman, and richard gere all stand in for different aspects/eras/stories from his life. the film's stunning design - image and sound - conceal a deceptively simple core: nobody knows the real dylan, so maybe there's no real dylan there at all, or, more likely, maybe he is everything we want him to be.

i found myself checking in and out of the movie - i felt it could do with a little tightening, but then again, perhaps its looseness is the point - though it's undeniably thrilling in places. when the 'real' bob shows up in the last moments of the film, in archive footage playing his harmonica, i had the strangest experience: i've never been that interested in bob dylan as a person, though of course some of the music is unrepeatably marvellous. but after a couple of hours of mining the potential pasts of this keystone cultural figure, seeing his 'real' face, hearing his 'real' music was an emotional grace note to compare with the films that make us all cry.

youth without youth

2008-01-14T11:34:00.000Z

i'm returning to writing about film after j o'd's funeral, partly because there was nothing he and i enjoyed more than a rant about the movies. we would have had a long whiskey-fuelled argument about this one:

francis coppola has thankfully returned to actually directing films rather than simply paying other people to do so; he has finally sorted out his finances with a pretty magnificent vineyard business; and with his american zoetrope magazine gives a heck of a lot back to the kind of people whom i guess remind him of himself when he was younger - people who want to do nothing so much as tell stories in the cinema.

it's over ten years since his last film, and in that time he has tried and failed to mount an enormous film with an enormous name - 'megalopolis' - what would have probably been a sci-fi amazement; but in the past couple of years he turned his attention to the romanian philosopher and cultural theorist mircea eliade, and specifically his novella 'youth without youth', a story of a professor determined to find the original language of the human species, and who is led on a mysterious journey when being struck by lightning leads him to regress into his own youth.

some critics have suggested that this material would have made a great science fiction thriller, but thank god coppola decided to let his inner avant gardist out of the box. for his film of 'youth without youth' is more akin to a david lynch movie than the linear stories beloved by populist directors, and in that respect, has more to say. and while 'youth without youth' is a bit of a mess - it's alternately incredibly boring and capable of stunning beauty - it is also clearly the work of the man who made 'apocalypse now', 'the conversation', and particularly 'the godfather part 2' - its fractured narrative reminds me especially of the latter. of course, its story of a man ageing in the wrong direction, and too fast, also reminds me of 'jack', the nadir of coppola's career; but that's what you get when francis decides to put all his energy into something. you have to take the bloatedness along with the artistic amazements. (oh, and the best tim roth performance since 'planet of the apes'. i mean that as a compliment.)

what would the original human language sound like? what would it mean if we could hear it? is love the only force that transcends everything else? probably. i'm pretty sure francis coppola thinks so, and i'm glad he's back in the game that he plays best. 'youth without youth' is a strange film that manages to be monotonous and thrilling at the same time. it will leave you scratching your head in frustration at some scenes, and desperate to see some other parts of it again. if you care about cinema, you should see it.

John O'Donohue, 1956-2008, and continuing forever

2008-01-05T11:44:00.000Z

I'm deeply saddened to report that my friend the Irish priest, poet and philosopher John O’Donohue, died suddenly on Thursday 3rd January 2008, and I'd like to share some thoughts about him.

John O’Donohue was my friend. We had been getting to know each other for almost four years now – a lifetime in our transient world – the very world that John’s words sought to slow down. I felt that we had in some sense adopted each other as compadres on the spiritual journey – a 50-something former priest taking into his life a 30-something former evangelical; both of us bound by our common Irish heritage, love of cinema, and fondness for sipping what he insisted on referring to as ‘firewater’. We spent many hours talking on the phone, eating together, and engaging in two of our favourite pursuits: whiskey and talking about movies.

He had a way with words that made you feel whole again – he created a space with language, both spoken and written, that felt like the home you never knew you were missing, but now never wanted to leave.

His work on retrieving the earthiness of celtic spirituality and helping make sense of it in a postmodern world is so profound that its impact has not yet been fully felt, and it represents something rare in a consumerist, post-Britart culture: a work of art that will outlast its author.

He managed also to write with the utmost seriousness and care for language, making his books the kind that you read slowly, savouring each page; meanwhile, his public talks were characterised by an indelicate Irish charm and the kind of wit that leads to laughter so deep it makes you feel like you belong.

What many may not know is that in addition to his ministry in the Catholic priesthood, and latterly as a writer and speaker, he was a serious environmental activist, helping to spearhead a small group that successfully prevented the despoilment of the Burren, one of Ireland’s most stunning natural landscapes. He put his reputation on the line to save something worth preserving, even being prepared to go to prison to do so.

In his activism, as well as his writing and speaking, and most of all, in his life, he wanted people to have shelter from the storms their lives would bring; when I once told him of my own struggles with serious depression and anxiety he clapped his hands together in a gesture of defiance and almost shouted at me: ‘May those feckin devils stay far from your door and NEVER TOUCH YOU AGAIN. You are worth far more than you think.’ His presence in my life made me believe it.

John knew that we live in the intersection of the sacred and the profane, and he wanted to nudge us in the direction of understanding that holiness has more to do with being aware of the light around us than moral puritanism. In the introduction to his most recent book ‘Benedictus’, published only a couple of months ago, he writes of how in any given day, some of us humans will experience the shock of being told of the sudden death of a friend. John wanted us to be tender to the fact that the faces of strangers we meet every day all hide secrets that are both divine and tragic. We do not always know who among us is suffering some unnameable torment, nor who is rejoicing at the blessing of a lifetime.

Last night, I became one of the people he wrote about – when I received an email (another manifestation of this world’s transience) informing me of his peaceful death, while asleep, on holiday in France. It is bewildering to note that a man who brought so much life around him is dead. But it is also vital to remember that he saw death as a path to freedom. He had spent so much time ministering with the dying – one of the greatest privileges of ministry, as far as he was concerned – that I felt he was, while totally committed to living life to the full, somehow also looking forward to his own death. Not in a morbid sense, but simply because he did believe that our own death is a step forward. He often said ‘when you enter into freedom, possibility comes to meet you’ – I imagine that he is, right now, experiencing a kind of freedom about which he would – at the very least - write some pretty marvellous poetry. It is hard to begrudge him his death when part of him was so ready for it.

I wonder how he’d describe it. For those of us left behind, well, we miss him dearly, and are grateful for the spaces he opened in our lives. I find it almost impossible to believe that he is gone; but if he was right about his own future, we will meet again.

A BLESSING FOR EQUILIBRIUM.
BY JOHN O’DONOHUE, from ‘Benedictus – A Book of Blessings’

Like the joy of the sea coming home to shore,
May the music of laughter break through your soul.

As the wind wants to make everything dance,
May your gravity be lightened by grace.

Like the freedom of the monastery bell,
May clarity of mind make your eyes smile.

As water takes whatever shape it is in,
So free may you be about who you become.

As silence smiles on the other side of what’s said,
May a sense of irony give you perspective.

As time remains free of all that it frames,
May fear or worry never put you in chains.

May your prayer of listening deepen enough
To hear in the distance the laughter of God.

Where does 'The Golden Compass' lead?

2007-12-10T17:05:00.000Z

Here's the good news: The Golden Compass does not promote atheism. It isn't going to steal your children. It does not signal the end of hope for religion in the West. That's the good news. Here's the bad news: it promotes the same, shallow "don't touch my stuff or I'll kill you" message that appears in so much of popular culture. But more than this, in spite of delightful visual imagery, and a couple of performances in which it's clear the actors are having fun (an icy Nicole Kidman, and the great English theatrical knight Derek Jacobi to name two), it's simply a boring film.

At its centre there is at least an attempt at exploring interesting territory – we are in a parallel universe in which everyone is accompanied by a 'daemon' – an animal representation of their personality, and a comfort in times of trouble. Meanwhile, a shadowy authoritarian body, "the Magisterium", is abducting children and performing daemon amputations. Too much daemon, too much free will, too little for the Magisterium to do.

The religious resonances are obvious, but the film doesn't make any explicit commentary on Christianity. Rather, its enemy is the misuse of power to force people to think or act against the exercise of freedom.

To read the rest of this post on the God's Politics blog, click here.

No Country for Old Men

2007-11-29T12:22:00.000Z

When a film ends with the recounting of a dream in which a weather-beaten, life-weary man searches for the fire his father is building to warm them, it's impossible not to think of the love we all yearn for and can hopefully muster. It's also a welcome spiritual respite when that film has seduced its audience on a journey into a hell of the relentless violence that follows a man after he steals drug money in the naïve belief that its owners might ignore him, and the slow-moving chase that ensues when a truly psychopathic person pursues the man and the cash. No Country for Old Men, the new picture from the Coen Brothers, based on Cormac McCarthy's 2005 novel, is probably the most accomplished film released this year.

I'll do my best to avoid spoilers, as it would be unfair to assume that readers have seen it. So I must skirt around the issues that cause me to praise this film so highly. In short, No Country for Old Men is a slow, thoughtful, frightening, and beguiling film about the selfishness of people and the desperate need to restore the virtue of community bonds. Its central character – called Anton Chigurh, and played by Javier Bardem – is one of the most titanic characterizations of evil intent I've ever seen in a film. He simply kills what gets in his way, and even plays sport with some of his potential victims - inviting them to toss a coin to determine their fate. Josh Brolin is the man who finds the money belonging to Chigurh's employers, and Tommy Lee Jones the sheriff baffled by the trail of death that ensues in their wake.

To read the rest of this post on the God's Politics blog, click here.

lions for lambs

2007-11-12T16:03:00.001Z

In some senses Robert Redford is the father of modern independent filmmaking, not to mention the patron saint of Hollywood liberalism – his Sundance Film Festival has launched a couple of dozen major careers, and his concern for progressive environmental policies is well known. And United Artists used to be known for making the kind of movie that entertained and provoked at the same time – from 'In the Heat of the Night' to 'Being There' to 'Rain Man'.

After a decade or more in the doldrums, the studio has been resurrected by Tom Cruise, and the first film released under this banner is the Redford-helmed 'Lions for Lambs' – a tub-thumping intellectual thriller that pits brains against brawn as a liberal university professor, a neo-conservative senator, and a smart journalist duke it out for the prize of 'who gets to direct the war on terror' - which the film shows still to be fought by the poor.

Such a film could have been a thoughtful exploration of the nature of American liberalism post-9/11, a call to action, or an intelligent treatment of the questions of how to respond to injustice without repeating it (or overcoming evil with good, as the New Testament would have it). Yet sadly it ends up a wasted opportunity - with mostly old arguments being rehearsed once more in a film whose performances are flat and is without visual interest.

There is, however, some merit in 'Lions for Lambs'...Read the rest of this post on the God's Politics blog.

rendition

2007-11-05T16:25:00.000Z

Some thoughts on the practice of extraordinary rendition - The fact that we know such practices are employed in our name should have been enough of a wake up call – but as yet, the groaning near-silence of free people whose leaders exercise injustice on our behalf continues. Are we prepared to do more than go to meetings, or to pray, or to write blog posts about what is happening in our world? What will a non-violent Reformation require of us? - if you want to read more of my thoughts on this, check out the God's Politics blog...

surprising wonderful movies of the week number 1 and 2

2007-10-25T12:31:00.000+01:00

in advance of leaving new zealand the night before last i watched one more film with mike and rose riddell - 'samsara' is a quite remarkable film about a tibetan buddhist monk journeying between spirit and flesh. we first see him returning to his monastery after spending three years' meditating in a cave; but on his attempt at re-entering community life, he is occupied with sexual fantasy. having never lived a life outside the cloisters, he decides to leave the monastery to pursue the love of a good woman. this, in itself, is an intriguing premise - but the film-makers handle the subject so well that i was utterly beguiled. 'samsara' is a beguiling film, which marries an earthy story with stunning photography, seductive but realistic performances, and music that seems to arise naturally from the images. it's one of those films you feel delighted to have been introduced to.

the same goes for a very different movie that happens to address similar territory: 'it's all gone pete tong' - a glorious dramatic comedy about a mad dj who comes to a crisis point as ibiza's living god of the dancefloor. i missed this on its original release, and assumed from the marketing and the fact that it stars british comedian paul kaye that it would be a zany comedy. couldn't have been more wrong. if i'd seen it in 2005 it would have been one of my favourites of the year; and paul kaye proves that you can teach an old dog new tricks: he's a very fine actor indeed.

both 'samsara' and 'it's all gone pete tong' are films about men who need to grow up. they're also beautiful movies that will make your day.

la vie en rose

2007-10-21T22:46:00.001+01:00

marion cotillard's performance as edith piaf in the biopic 'la vie en rose' is one of the most disturbing and real i've seen. i knew very little about this woman's life before i saw the movie; afterward, if the film is to be believed, i was reminded of the proverbial view of the artist as a person who is aching on the inside, in desperation to produce something that will achieve public recognition. the personal tragedies that seemed to colonise piaf's life, from her beginnings, raised in a brothel, to losing a child, a lover, and her physical well-being, are related in an unconventional and ultimately quite brilliant cinematic style - choppy narrative, alternately sweeping and staccato photography, and of course incomparable music. at the end of the film, cotillard as piaf sings 'je ne regrette rien'. i'll never smile at that song again.

as it is in heaven

2007-10-20T23:24:00.000+01:00

saw a beautiful film a couple of days ago down at mike and rose riddell's house - if there's anyone out there who hasn't read something by mike, i heartily encourage you to do so forthwith. godzone and threshold of the future are great places to start. the film they showed me - mike's second favourite after magnolia, which is high praise indeed - is from sweden and called 'as it is in heaven'. it's about an orchestra conductor who returns to his home village after a heart attack to recuperate, and ends up working with the local church choir. it deals with similar themes to 'babette's feast', 'together', and 'chocolat'. grace, community, forgiveness, domestic violence, the real treasure lying within - all these are here, along with some of the most mystical and ecstatic music i've heard in a film. it's honest about the need to hold people accountable for their mistakes (but gives more hope to 'sinners' than 'chocolat' - which to my mind negated all that was good about its message by making one of the community an outcast; 'as it is in heaven', however, finds a way to both hold accountable, and offer the possibility of change to its most violent character.)

the last scene of this film is one of those perfect cinematic representations of our best hopes for life lived out loud, in the presence of loved ones, with no fear of what others may think. some viewers might find this film a little on the sentimental side, but it made me want to dance like no one's watching.

p.s. kudos to michael nyqvist for one of the most beguiling performances in recent years.

'A pro-lynching movie even liberals can love'

2007-09-30T16:54:00.000+01:00

It's intriguing how many current films address questions of revenge and justice. Like all cinematic epidemics, this is a mixed bag, from Quentin Tarantino's alternately boring and horrifying car-crash fest Death Proof, just released on DVD, to the slasher-style terror of Death Sentence starring Kevin Bacon, to the mature and moving reflection on justice and fatherhood in 3:10 to Yuma, to the ostensibly more thoughtful treatment of vengeance in Jodie Foster's new film The Brave One.

Continue reading this post on the God's Politics blog.

good news: we do not live in hell

2007-09-25T03:24:00.000+01:00

I've been deeply disturbed for some time now, and particularly over the past week by how the TV/radio/internet news agenda dictates what we prioritise, and how our relationship with the web has colonised so many of our lives. I know this not a new thought, but something about the daily reports of individual and communal suffering of the recent past has reached a tipping point for my threshold of balance.

In the ancient days of dial-up, I checked email twice a day; and always made a point of checking in with a news website. In this way, I of course managed to stay in touch with people, but I also once discovered that an acquaintance of mine had been murdered by seeing the news on a website. Nowadays I can find out that a close friend has broken up with her partner, without ever having to talk to her about it, just by getting a notification from Facebook that her 'profile' has changed. Amazing how we don't have to relate to each other any more in person, isn't it?

More recently, having wi-fi at home led to me checking for natural disaster or violent conflict before I even had a cup of coffee in the morning. Until today. I think I have become infected with an addiction to bad news. I'd like to be able to commit to stop looking at news websites as often as I currently do. I think it might save my sanity, and help me get a better grip on the proportion of good to bad news in the real world. I don't mean, of course, that bad news isn't happening, or that we should ignore it. But I do wonder if the more we think we know about it, the less we are likely to act. And at the same time, I still have a sentimental tendency to believe that it is better to light a candle than to curse (or indulge) the darkness; which is partly why I have put a photograph of my favourite place in northern Ireland at the top of this post (it's the Silent Valley in the Mourne region). I wrote the following thoughts a year or so ago, but I think I only now have begun to believe them...

Wait a few minutes for the headlines in any news broadcast, and, in spite of the nobility and supreme good looks of its presenters, you’re bound to be not too far from the suggestion that all of human life’s going to hell. All news, it seems, is bad news.

The news recently has confronted me with stories of kidnap plots, infant deaths, senior citizen robberies, figures on the religious right suggesting that their God is a petty tyrant, whose only motivation is to punish errant humans by sending them hurricanes or strokes, students running riot in Belfast’s Holy Land, and a 76 year old man who needed two lethal injections to execute him. The world presented in this way is a fearful place, a society gone crazy, a circus with lions but not clowns.

It’s not the kind of world I’d like to live in.

And, of course, it’s not the kind of world that I do live in.

Recent media reports could just as easily have reflected any of these stories, all of which took place yesterday.

A man in India wiped the tears of a grieving woman.

Some people in New York City saw a film that will change their lives forever.

A business executive in London chose not to participate in work that exploits other people.

A family in Derry decided that they would recycle their newspapers from now on, and contribute to ensuring that there may actually be a planet to sustain human life in the future.

A couple in Edinburgh switched off their television, and decided they would never switch it on again if they could spend time eating and drinking with other human beings instead.

Music was composed in Galway that will bring peace to the wounded hearts of people.

Stunning light shone on the shore water of Strangford Lough.

Legal cases were continuing to challenge the use of the death penalty in the United States.

An elderly woman in east Belfast tended to the chrysanthymums in her garden.

Students in Belfast’s Holy Land invited other students to eat pizza, chill out, and form friendships, some of which will last for the rest of their lives.

The legacy of Martin Luther King was marked by a teacher in Berlin who seeks to transmit his profound non-violence to a new generation.

People all over the world fell in love and provided the ground from which new human life would be created.

A few people in an undisclosed location learned to live without fear.

There was a rhythm to life that made us sane, and some of us decided to stop allowing the agenda of bad news to dictate the pace of our lives. Instead, we acknowledged to ourselves that God is present in the world, in every smile, in every wound, in every house, in every street, in every atom. Look out your window. There is no monster on the corner. The creation is good, the world is beautiful, and so are you.

Jesus loves Kathy Griffin anyway

2007-09-22T00:04:00.000+01:00

After a year of scandals in which celebrities such as Mel Gibson, Don Imus, and Isaiah Washington have reminded us that fame does not cancel out bigotry, Kathy Griffin last week became the latest public figure to make such headlines with her Creative Arts Emmy acceptance speech. Referring to the tendency of some of her colleagues to invoke divine sanction for their success, she said, among other things, that "no one had less to do with this award than Jesus." Her remarks were censored on the telecast, and at least one Christian public figure has since implied on CNN that her words were more offensive than Imus' racist comments about the Rutgers basketball players, or Washington’s homophobic remarks about Grey’s Anatomy co-star T.R. Knight. The questionable logic that led to this assertion is that "85% of Americans believe in Jesus," while only a minority are black, and a much smaller number are gay. First of all, the suggestion that only the groups who are targeted in dehumanising rhetoric should be offended by them is absurd -- of course you don't have to be the victim of prejudice to be offended by it. It's understandable that people get offended when the names of religious figures are used in a derogatory fashion. It is also true to say that today it is more publicly acceptable to criticize Christianity than most other faiths. And sometimes it may be appropriate to protest this.

Continue reading this post on the Gods Politics blog

'Bourne' Again?

2007-08-30T14:57:00.000+01:00

I wrote here a few weeks ago about the new Die Hard film, and especially how I felt it represented a disturbing advance in the portrayal of heroes as violent men whose main purpose is to uphold materialism. Among other things, Bruce Willis' character, John McClane, kicks a woman half to death, then drops an SUV on her head for good measure, and we're supposed to applaud. Surprisingly enough, the comments on this blog were mostly critical of what I said – which is of course perfectly fine, given the freedom of discourse that exists on this site. But it was ironic to find that the very point I was making – that we have become inured to violence in the real world by its portrayal on screen – appeared to be borne out by many of the comments.

Continue reading this post on the God's Politics blog by clicking here.

greenbelt films of the year: the final list

2007-08-14T20:50:00.000+01:00

With just over a week to go, here's the final list of what I consider to be the best films of the past twelve months, and some worthy of discussion that may or may not be good films, to be discussed at my 'films of the year' seminar at Greenbelt - I know this will be a controversial list, so do please comment on these in advance and I'll try to respond to some of the comments at the seminar. It's on the Monday afternoon, so I hope you'll join us for some serious film discussion and at least one major surprise.

THE BEST FILMS OF THE YEAR (released between end August 2006 - end August 2007)

16: The Queen - fascinating experience of seeing someone we had previously only seen in parody – what does it mean for what Britain is as a nation?

15: An Inconvenient Truth – truly campaigning film – changed the direction of the wind

14: Dreamgirls - for pure entertainment value, the most exciting film of the year

13: Little Children – when will we all grow up?

12: Flags of our Fathers/Letters from Iwo Jima - Clint Eastwood, a former Republican city mayor produces two of the most profound anti-war statements ever committed to film

11: Jindabyne - a Raymond Carver short story transplanted from the US to Australia, which manages to squeeze in reflections on men and women's relationships, aboriginal rights, ancient religious culture, guilt and shame, self-identity and the fear of what lurks under the bed

10: Into Great Silence - a film that makes you feel like you're living in a monastery

9: The Departed – violence as a way of life; what should policing be about?

8: Stranger than Fiction - what would you do if you really believed you could write your own life?

7: The Lives of Others - a film that makes you feel you might be living in a prison, but that your perceived enemy may well be your best friend

6: Zodiac - an American thriller that takes murder seriously

5: Little Miss Sunshine – let families be real by reducing your expectations

4: Ten Canoes – storytelling and how we muddy the waters

3: Children of Men – one of the finest films of the year – a fearful nightmare of what might be happening to us; but the lengths to which people will go to preserve human life out-reach the killing: love is stronger than death

2: Once - a beguiling love story that takes the underclass seriously

1: The Fountain - a film that actually succeeds in conveying what it feels like to be in love

WORTHY OF CONVERSATION

Bobby/Tell No One/Babel/Borat/Casino Royale/Pan’s Labyrinth/Shortbus/Sicko/Perfume/Apocalypto/A Prairie Home Companion/Crank/This Film is Not Yet Rated/Rocky Balboa/Old Joy/Notes on a Scandal/Transformers/Knocked Up/Half Nelson/Inland Empire/Idiocracy/Hot Fuzz/This is England/Beyond Hatred/300/Amazing Grace/Shooter/Alpha Dog/Black Gold/Die Hard 4.0/The Bourne Ultimatum

Antonioni and Bergman and Spiritual Activism

2007-08-10T19:39:00.001+01:00

Film buffs began last week greeting the news that two of our greatest artists had died. Ingmar Bergman and Michelangelo Antonioni lived to be 89 and 94, respectively, and were still making films until a couple of years ago. Their work had exerted such an influence over world cinema for over half a century that it is impossible to imagine film culture without them. Antonioni and Bergman made films about the human interior journey – the travels and travails of the soul. They were sometimes preoccupied with the fear that life had no meaning, and at times seemed desperate to produce cinema because the making of the films themselves were part of their own struggle for enlightenment.

Continue reading this post on the God's Politics blog.

once in a while

2007-08-07T15:55:00.001+01:00

once in a while, a film comes along that makes you believe the hype about small being beautiful, non-professional actors being more 'authentic', and digital video being the way forward. it gives credibility to the festival that awarded it prizes, it is worthy of the ecstatic reviews you've seen in the press, and it manages to hit high notes that are so personally resonant to the viewer you can't help imagining they made it for you.

'once' did this for me yesterday. it's an irish film written and directed by john carney, about two musicians, played by the frames' glen hansard, and marketa irglova, meeting and making music together in dublin. the music arises naturally out of the story - he's busking, or they're recording together, or singing at a party. the story arc is pretty conventional - boy meets girl, girl gives boy 10 cent as a busking contribution, boy fixes girl's vacuum cleaner, and the rest ensues in patterns that we've seen before, but the way 'once' does it is so beguiling that you easily forget you're watching a fantasy. this film feels like real life. paralleling the love story is a subtle commentary on the dublin underclass - both the sector of the indigenous poor that is fatally addicted to heroin, and the 'new irish', immigrants living a dozen to a house, sharing space so cramped that their landlords should be ashamed. or at the very least, those of us who live in ireland and know landlords should be shaming them into behaving ethically.

but what lingers most in the mind about 'once' is the story of two lonely people interacting with each other's souls. i love the rough edges of this film - some of the lighting isn't great, it's obvious at times that we're watching inexperienced actors - because this is what makes it feel like it's really happening. i also like the fact that it portrays the guy as the romantic, while the girl is the practical one who thinks clearly. a subversion of love story cliches, to be sure; but i think it also tells a certain kind of truth that is usually underplayed in the kind of movies that disempower women by portraying them as only waiting for their prince charming to ride in and sweep them off their feet. 'once', however, is a film that manages to entertain, move, educate, challenge, and provide realistic hope in the midst of an often despairing urban environment. 'once' is my favourite film of the year so far.

a few thoughts from werner herzog

2007-08-03T18:48:00.001+01:00

kester brewin and i were watching werner herzog's film 'the wild blue yonder' in london a few weeks ago and it provoked a conversation about art and meaning. i found myself thinking about this while trying to drift off to sleep in a very warm room last night and the profile of herzog tom bissell wrote last december in harpers magazine came to mind. what herzog says in the following extract is either the transcendent wisdom of an artist, or pretentious nonsense, or both. i like it whatever it is.

'Herzog walked me to the door. I had spent only a few hours with him, but I had spent weeks watching and re-watching his films, and somehow I knew they had changed me. I wanted to tell Herzog this but was not sure how. Instead I asked him if he was ever frustrated that his films were not more widely known. He seemed to get somewhat shy before looking away. “I believe,” he said, “in what I call the secret mainstream. Kafka was there too. Today, yes, we know Kafka was the voice of an overwhelming bureaucracy with a deep evil inside of it. Often we see these figures in the secret mainstream. I am one of them.”

With that, embarrassed, I told Herzog how much I admired him, and how thankful I was that he had agreed to see me. Herzog seemed neither surprised nor pleased by my effulgence. Instead he looked at me for a disarmingly long time—so long, in fact, I began to feel like a character in a Werner Herzog film. Finally, he said: “There is a dormant brother inside of you, and I awaken him, I make him speak, and you are not alone anymore.” We shook hands and he was gone. I walked outside, through a curtain of Los Angeles sunshine, to the street’s edge, where I stood for a long time, ecstatic and not quite alone.'

greenbelt films of the year seminar

2007-08-03T00:48:00.000+01:00

it's that time of year again - just a couple of weeks to go and greenbelt will be upon us. i'll be doing my now-traditional films of the year seminar, and as with last year, i'm providing a sneak preview here of the films i'll be discussing - but this time round, i'd like to hear your views, both of films on this list, and any that are omitted that you think i should be talking about. the only rule is that the film needs to have been released in the UK since the end of August last year - check www.imdb.com if you're not sure of release dates. also, it should be noted that not all the films on this list are necessarily 'good' - but they're here because i think they have some cultural significance.

here goes with the list:

Crank – watch a man die as quick as he can

This Film is Not Yet Rated – asks silly questions about sex in the movies; but acknowledges that sex and violence are treated differently by the UK and US authorities

The Wicker Man remake – a ridiculous film about the 'dangers' of women which destroys the religious thoughtfulness of the original

Little Miss Sunshine – let families be real by reducing your expectations

The Black Dahlia – money after old rope

The Queen - fascinating experience of seeing someone we had previously only seen in parody – what does it mean for what Britain is as a nation?

An Inconvenient Truth – truly campaigning film – changed the direction of the wind

Talladega Nights – not as funny as it thinks it is

Children of Men – one of the finest films of the year – a fearful nightmare of what might be happening to us; but the lengths to which people will go to preserve human life out-reach the killing: love is stronger than death

World Trade Center – a film about honouring the courage of those who died – and the horror of what happened in there – people of the left need to face this; we need to express at least as much anger about what happened on 9/11 as we do toward George W Bush's response

The Departed – violence as a way of life; what should policing be about?

Slavoj Zizek's Pervert’s Guide to Cinema – movies as the projection of our own desires

Last king of Scotland – great central performance, but I wish it had done more to explore where Amin's motivation came from

Marie Antoinette – same with her as with Amin

Little Children – when will we all grow up?

Bobby – not a great film, but inspirational message; the non-violence speech at the end is great

The Prestige – the power of ambition

Ten Canoes – storytelling and how we muddy the waters

Tell No One - great barnstorming thriller with the power of love at its centre

Babel – life is a coincidence – four short films, the Japanese one has the most empathy; I could have done without the others

Borat - not quite sure what to make of it yet

Into Great Silence

Casino Royale

Pan’s Labyrinth

Shortbus

Stranger than Fiction

Sicko

Flags of our Fathers

Letters from Iwo Jima

Night at the Museum

Perfume

Apocalypto

A Prairie Home Companion

Rocky Balboa

The Fountain

Old Joy

Dreamgirls

Notes on a Scandal

Lives of Others

Half Nelson

Good Shepherd

Good German

Inland Empire

Idiocracy

Beyond Hatred

300

Amazing Grace

Catch a Fire

Why we Fight

Sunshine

Shooter

Alpha Dog

Spiderman 3

Night of the Sunflowers

Jindabyne

Zodiac

Black Gold

Die Hard 4.0

Simpsons Movie

Transformers

Nomadak TX

(slightly) disappointing simpsons movie

2007-07-30T16:04:00.001+01:00

it made me laugh, but not as much as some of the episodes. quite surprised to find that they didn't seem to invest the time and thought necessary for a truly great script. not enough mr burns. good tom hanks cameo. nice to see the scope of springfield on a big screen. homer eats electrofied fish and nearly kisses a pig. funnier than it sounds. and everyone gets forgiven and goes home.

ray lamontagne, irish car bombs, and business travellers

2007-07-28T06:00:00.000+01:00

Ray LaMontagne’s recent album "Till the Sun Turns Black" ends with one of the most beautiful songs about peacemaking I’ve ever heard—in which he simply repeats the refrain "War is not the answer, the answer is within you" over the most delicately lilting instrumentation. It’s the kind of sentiment that could be accused of being too vague to have any practical meaning, but warm and positive enough to be popular. But there’s something about it that feels deeper than that.

It comes to mind as I sit in a cramped and crowded airport in Missouri, between cities on a trip that will take me from the Deep South to the Pacific Northwest, meeting and talking with people seeking to explore faith at the margins of institutional Christianity. I’ll be part of a conference the week after next on the topic "Dangerous Living"(www.solitonnetwork.org)—a title ambiguous enough to invite further interrogation. The organizers aim to build a temporary community of fellow travelers asking questions and sharing experiences of what it means to follow the radical Jesus in a culture that often seems to privilege consumerism above all else and seeks to avoid anything resembling physical work at all costs. We’ll talk about faith and social justice—just what does it mean in our day to hear Jesus tell the rich young ruler how hard it is to get into the kingdom of heaven? We’ll investigate faith and authority: What kind of leadership is required when so many of our public role models leave so much to be desired? We’ll immerse ourselves in faith and creativity, hoping to become more attentive to the voice of God in art, film, music, and nature. Most of all, we will wonder together what it means to be stewards of the Christian tradition that we inherit without falling into the trap of religious imperialism. In other words, how can we take responsibility for sharing our faith without imposing it on others in a way that prevents anyone taking us seriously?

These questions were not far from my thoughts this afternoon, as we sat down for a meal at one of the in-house airport restaurants. Just after my Diet Coke arrived, the gentleman next to our table took a phone call, the first few lines of which went as follows:

‘Hi there—didn’t realize you were on that side of the pond. You looking for more bombers, or just drinking Irish car bombs?’

To continue reading this post on the God's Politics blog, click here

fame is a mask that eats the face

2007-07-22T17:43:00.001+01:00

Posh Spice might hope to feel at home in her new life in Los Angeles, but hubris is winding its way into her week as the ratings of her "Welcome to America" pseudo-documentary come in. In the U.K., where I live, this program was billed as a light-hearted, even "spoof" piece about her reputation for excess. But it seems the U.S. audience, or at least its television critics, weren’t quite ready for this. At any rate, whether or not she was joking, Victoria Beckham and her husband have become today’s totems of consumerist overdrive.

At the same time, according to media reports, the well-known environmentalist and anti-war activist, Barbra Streisand, has apparently issued the staff of a London hotel with demands about how they are to treat her while she stays there—including instructing them not to look her in the eye. You have to wonder just why someone who is about to sing to 15,000 people who are paying up to a thousand dollars each might be scared of a little personal interaction with just one of them, but I guess Barbra feels she’s earned the right.

Continue reading this post on the God's Politics blog

soliton ventura - the year's best gathering

2007-07-18T18:06:00.000+01:00

soliton network's annual ventura, california gathering takes place in just three weeks' time. this has become a regular fixture for many of those who attend to explore life and spirituality, to eat together, make fantastic friends, and feel just a little more alive than usual. i'll be there to help facilitate some discussion, along with pete rollins, kester brewin, barry taylor, and others, especially maestro greg russinger who puts the whole thing together with the folk formerly of the bridge.

in the midst of many competing opportunities for creative people to explore theology together, i have genuinely found soliton to be the most stimulating, enjoyable, and nurturing to my own soul over the past few years. hospitality is a hallmark of what these guys do, and so if you've never been before, and you can be in the area, then i'd encourage you with no hesitation to register - you'd be made more welcome than you could imagine.

all the details are here.

‘IF GOD WERE HERE, HE, SHE OR IT WOULD BE SUING A LOT OF PEOPLE FOR LIBEL’ – SINEAD O’CONNOR’S ‘THEOLOGY’

2007-07-16T18:07:00.000+01:00

Sinead O’Connor’s not angry anymore; or at least not angry in the same way. Her tearing up of a photo of Pope John Paul II on Saturday Night Live 15 years ago has combined with what we think we know about her ordination into an unofficial offshoot of the Catholic church to give a convenient excuse for people to ignore her. This is a pity, because it makes us forget that she produced one of the only memorably and honest songs about love in the 1990s with her cover version of Prince’s ‘Nothing Compares 2 U’; and one of the most beautiful hymns of spiritual comfort in 1997’s ‘This is to Mother You’ on her ‘Gospel Oak’ EP.

She has made her spirituality more explicit than ever on ‘Theology’ a new double album; and the anger of early Sinead has given way to songs of hope, confidence, and worship. In 23 tracks she sings of God being present in the earthiness of a life lived between the search for truth and the struggle to get by – when she relates how God met ‘my need on a chronic Christmas Eve’ it is easy to imagine the pain that many people feel at the times when the culture is forcing them to pretend to be happy.

To continue reading this post on the 'God's Politics' blog, click here.

live free, or watch die hard

2007-07-11T13:43:00.000+01:00

Great helicopters and explosions abound, the witticisms are barbed, and the cinematography is silver-grey in Die Hard 4.0 (or Live Free or Die Hard, depending on which empire you see it in). I was tired to start with, but the film couldn't wake me up. I vacillated between being bored and horrified, as Bruce Willis yet again stands in for the lone American male whose first resort is always violence (in the first film he was the archetype of a Vietnam War vet, assailed by terrorists on the one hand, and a frustrating civil service bureaucracy on the other; this time he clearly represents the guy who'd go to Iraq just because it's the right thing to do, even though he knows the government sending him is corrupt)...

To continue reading the rest of this post on the God's Politics blog, click here

apocalypto and mel's mother-figures

2007-07-10T11:25:00.000+01:00

i finally got around to seeing 'apocalypto' last night - it's a mixed bag - an undeniably exhilirating film, but extremely violent; and either a tragic reflection on how those who live by the sword die by it, or a 16th century lethal weapon, or both. the controversy that surrounded its director mel gibson just before it was released clouded serious discussion about what this film means, so let me just add one thought.

in each of the epic -canvas films that gibson has directed - 'braveheart', 'the passion of the christ', and 'apocalypto' - there is a scene where the central male character undergoes some kind of torment while a strong female character in his life looks on from a crowd. in 'braveheart', william wallace sees the ghost of his wife while he is being tortured to death; in 'the passion', mary gazes helplessly at jesus carrying the cross, and even sees him transformed in her mind's eye into a the little boy she raised; now, in 'apocalypto', jaguar paw, being led to the top of a pyramid to be sacrificed to the sun god, has a moment of almost unbearable tenderness with his mother in law.

whatever else may be said about mel gibson's ideological beliefs (which are difficult, at best, to determine; given the circumstances under which he has expressed them), ability as a director, or personal problems, it's pretty clear to me that one aspect of his career that has been undervalued is something other than the misogyny that action stars are often accused of. is it just possible that mel gibson loves women? that he loves mothers? that he wants to give them the respect they deserve?

gordon brown's challenges

2007-07-05T21:00:00.000+01:00

They say a week is a long time in politics – given what has happened in the UK in the past seven days, that statement proves that some clichés can indeed be true. A week ago, Tony Blair left office and power was seamlessly transferred to his rival Gordon Brown. Brown immediately set to work, replacing all but three members of his Cabinet and launching a major public debate on the British constitution. The man with the reputation of being a ‘dour Scot’ showed himself unable to fulfil one of the modern politicians’ job requirements by struggling to wave (and look like he was enjoying it) while standing outside Number 10, Downing Street. No matter, for by the time he had gone through the door of the house where British Prime Ministers live, he was in charge of the country – he even got a Jim Wallis blog post to welcome him to office!

Jim’s words were an encouragement to see him as a politician with a conscience – a man genuinely committed to addressing questions of injustice. I hope that Brown is able to follow through, but there are a few challenges...

the god's politics blog posted the rest of this article from me during the week...

urgent - please help our friends at the simple way

2007-06-21T14:38:00.000+01:00

hi everyone - urgent news:

our friends at the simple way including dear shane claiborne woke up yesterday to find their house and community center being destroyed by fire yesterday - thankfully no one seems to have been injured - but there's more info on http://www.thesimpleway.org/

apologies if you know this already but we're trying to get the word out so people can help.

there is a link on the simple way's site that you can use to donate if you are able to support.

thank you.

another movie haiku

2007-06-13T20:38:00.000+01:00

Apes squealing loudly
Monolith appears in space
Evolution Now!

this week's movie haiku

2007-06-11T14:30:00.000+01:00

george clooney brad pitt.

stylish casino thieving.

smug like the first two.

the best film i've seen this year

2007-05-25T13:47:00.000+01:00

sorry i've been away for a while - much has been going on.

i saw zodiac - a bleak and uncompromising mammoth film about murder and its investigation. david fincher almost seems to be making the anti-Se7en, a fine film which probably spent too much time exploring the seedy underbelly of gruesome violence. zodiac, on the other hand faces up to what murder really is - wiping the slate clean of another human being's personhood, and then breaking the slate. the fact that the film recreates the mood of the 70s in meticulous detail while paying gentle homage to 'all the president's men' and 'the conversation' makes it both a deeply pleasurable for cinephiles as well as a disturbing but profoundly moral film.

religious films

2007-04-23T13:27:00.000+01:00

the church times has just published a list of what it calls the top fifty religious films. i was on the panel that decided the films - it takes a fairly narrow definition of what constitutes a 'religious' film - the paper wanted to include only films which make their mysticism explicit (perhaps a contradiction in terms).

it was, however, a fun exercise, and while i didn't endorse the inclusion of each film on the list, and would have added one or two more, i think it's a pretty interesting selection. check it out here and feel free to comment below about what you think should and should not be there.

lives of others and war on terror

2007-04-16T10:43:00.000+01:00

saw 'the lives of others' the other night - new german film about the oppressive state regime and the actions of the state security apparatus - the stasi - in east germany before the wall was pulled down in 1989. a man listens to another man talking about his opinions. fairly innocuous, of course; until you realise that the man doing the listening is sitting a few floors above the other man's apartment, and that the sound of his subject's voice is carried through wires hidden behind light switches. and the man who is doing the talking is only being listened to because he has failed to do anything that might actually arouse suspicion in the first place. that, perversely, is what makes the stasi pay attention.

'the lives of others' is a tremendous drama about two human beings and their competing interpretations of what it means to be free. for one, the apparatus of state control is what liberates - if you don't have to think about your life, if you don't have to actually make any decisions, then, the argument goes, the potential exists for some kind of secular nirvana, where all desire is absent. for the other, the existence of 'me' is crushed by such authoritarianism and must eventually be resisted, even if it means the death of reputation, career, or even body.

this film ends with the line 'it's for me', and that statement, of course, can only actually be made by a free person, in a free society.

if the film exists in a clear space and time (and in spite of its over-statement of the very possibility of a stasi operative subverting his masters - on which see anna funder's article in the may issue of 'sight and sound'), it does make subtle comment on the world in which we now live. it is impossible to see surveillance of private lives, and the suggestion that patriotism depends on not criticising any particular government, without thinking (with a good deal of morose regret) of the utter lack of moral imagination applied by the authoritative bodies in the post-9/11 era.

another character makes the link clear, after the momentous events of 1989, for he now has the courage to confront one of his previous political masters with the words 'i can't believe people like you once ruled a country'.

p.s.: 'the lives of others' is a film for our times, and let's hope that hillary benn sees it before he gives his speech challenging 'war on terror' language later today.

the end of the beginning

2007-04-11T22:37:00.000+01:00

it's now over two weeks since the press conference in which ian paisley and gerry adams announced their intentions to share power in northern ireland from the 8th may. i haven't written about it here until now for a number of reasons, chief among which was that the front page news crowded out space for substantial reflection. i wanted to wait a while before reacting.

so, for what it's worth, here are my thoughts.

there is no doubt that this is a political miracle and it has the potential to truly end the violent conflict in and about northern ireland.

it was a very long time coming, but it's a remarkable achievement.

at the same time, and at the risk of falling into the cycle of rhetorical negativity that too often characterises conversation about northern ireland, there's something i'd like to say. the people who are now taking credit for 'peace in our time' do not deserve it anywhere near as much as those both behind and in front of the scenes who either always spoke non-violently against injustice, or came round to the idea of power-sharing almost ten years ago when the good friday agreement was signed. neither the irish republican movement nor conservative loyalists can claim to have been purely benign or to have acted always in good faith over the past four decades.

on the one hand, for instance, the ira would have us believe that its struggle was so noble that, among other things, it never intended to target 'non-combatants' in spite of the fact that it regularly planted bombs in urban centres where members of the public were bound to be killed.

on the other, ian paisley appears not to have thought that he had a responsibility to de-escalate the conflict in his public rhetoric until after the agreement to share power had been done behind the scenes.

i am glad that no substantive body of opinion in northern ireland now supports the use of force to continue the centuries-old conflict over a tiny piece of land. but this has been in spite of contrary actions by the movements now taking the spoils of war over most of the period they have been in existence. those who are about to take high office (and with it, responsibility for this society) owe at least some gratitude, if not an apology, to those who have struggled for many years for peace and reconciliation.

at the same time, i thank god that one of the world's longest-running ethnic conflicts has become an object lesson in the value of political dialogue (and a little bit of commerce).

there is a lot more to say about this; including of course an acknowledgement that the pain of this conflict left no community untouched, including those represented by the political movements i'm criticising in this post. i trust however that soon we will see honour being accorded to the long-term peacemakers, and more respect to those who died and suffered than has been evident in the past fortnight.

let the sunshine in

2007-04-02T23:06:00.000+01:00

saw 'sunshine' tonight - danny boyle/alex garland's new film that manages to be both a sci-fi adventure and a mystical piece about the search for god. it's a companion piece to 'the fountain', (which given the benefit of a few months' distance is certainly my favourite film of the past year), - visually it's a thing of beauty, and
there's much more to this story about the human race to re-activate the dying sun than the bits that sound like 'armageddon' or 'deep impact'. it's pretty clear that the sun in this film is more than just a great ball of fire.

would god abandon us? as we approach easter it's appropriate to remember that at least one Person thought so. or at least he felt that god had abandoned him.

but that story wasn't finished yet.

it still isn't.

belfast film festival: the kick off

2007-03-24T10:19:00.000Z

two days into the fest - and the qft bar was filled to the rafters after the screening of 'night of the sunflowers' - a quite special, very stylish, bleak thriller set in the spanish countryside and so evocatively filmed that you almost feel like you're getting a tan.

highlights today of this lovely festival that fills our city with good cinema for 11 days:

railroad all-stars
ten canoes
john malkovich as klimt
and
ghosts of cite soleil

healing through remembering

2007-03-17T20:12:00.000Z

i'll be in london on monday and tuesday speaking with others at three events on behalf of healing through remembering - a very thoughtful initiative that is seeking to propose ways to address the past regarding the conflict in and about northern ireland. if you're interested in thinking about these questions, which have a much more universal application than just in my home community, consider yourself invited to any of the events. the events are details here.

climate change and journalistic ethics

2007-03-13T08:38:00.000Z

martin durkin's 'the great global warming swindle' made waves when screened last week. a feature length film presenting scientists who dispute the received wisdom about climate change, 'swindle' is a technically brilliant piece of dramatic documentary, made by someone who also has the courage to stand in the face of mainstream opinion. (whatever it else it is, courage is definitely part of it.)

and yet.

and yet, the response to the film has raised uncomfortable questions about journalistic ethics - the director has been previously found to have misled interviewees, and distorted or ignored facts. at least one of the contributors to 'swindle' has already stated that he feels let down by the programme-makers.

what is saddest about this is that the question of the potential validity of any of the arguments made by the contributors is likely to be subsumed under media sniping about the possibility that we have been misled about some of them. i'm left not sure what to do about this - who do i believe? can anyone help me?

am i left with only the option of splitting the difference between watching 'swindle' followed by 'an inconvenient truth' and a visit to george monbiot's blog?

old joy

2007-03-10T11:51:00.000Z

it's been a fortnight of meditative cinema - the monks of 'into great silence', jack nicholson's ambivalent journalist at the heart of 'the passenger', and now the unexpected glories of 'old joy' - a film apparently based on a book of still photographs. two guys who used to be roommates go on a short road trip, lie down in a hot spring, talk a little, feel regret, and go home.

the sense of a once-meaningful friendship disappearing into the past is palpably evoked by the pitch-perfect central performances by daniel london and will oldham, the gentle photography that really takes its time, and the fact that pretty much all of us will be able to identify with the story from the inside.

it's also one of the most subtly devastating critiques of the bush administration, and, more importantly, the lack of a substantive alternative offered from the left (and my generation specifically).

perhaps the only criticism i would make is that there is not enough of this film, but that, i guess is another way of saying that what is there is really rather wonderful.

the passenger

2007-03-05T16:29:00.000Z

watching michelangelo antonioni's 'the passenger' is a stilling experience, not least of all because jack nicholson's laconic way is better suited to this film than pretty much any other i've seen. the story of a man who disappears into the life of another for reasons best known to himself doesn't rely on movie style or tricks, but conveys something of the inner life of a certain kind of person - he or she who does things for an inexplicable purpose. 'i used to be somebody else but i traded him in' says jack's character, travelling from north africa to london to munich and barcelona by way of the map of the human soul. a character tells another that the questions we ask reveal more about us than the answers given. nothing much happens in this picture, except the transfixed gaze of the audience. and it made me feel like i was alive.

p.s. watch it with jack's commentary on the dvd for a treasurable couple of hours in the presence of one of pop culture's true originals.

if it's not one thing, it's another

2007-03-02T10:04:00.001Z

spare a thought for this guy, kevin mcconnell, 19-time oscar loser, whose experience last sunday night didn't exactly match that of helen mirren, martin scorsese, or forest whitaker. as the imdb tells us today:

Oscar Loser Lost Mother After the Awards

Oscar's biggest loser Kevin O'Connell had a double reason to feel low the day of the Academy Awards - he was nursing his dying mother, who passed away just after the telecast. Apocalypto sound mixer O'Connell found out he'd missed out on an Oscar for the 19th time on Sunday night, but he had more pressing personal matters on his mind. The multi-nominee attended the Oscar ceremony, but left right after his category was announced and raced to the hospital to check on his ailing mother. In a statement released to website GoldDerby.com, O'Connell says, "My mother Skippy passed away on Sunday night right after the Oscars. I was holding her in my arms when she died."

belfast film festival

2007-02-28T13:18:00.000Z

went to the launch of this year's programme for the belfast film festival yesterday; and, as always it was a pleasant mix of high and low brow conversation about film, splendid people, and excellent - if unhealthy - food to nibble on. i particularly like the potato tortilla, and the opportunity to see what looks like a hundred films in just over a week. check it out.

into great silence

2007-02-19T10:43:00.000Z

found myself beginning lent a couple of days early last night at belfast's www.queensfilmtheatre.com being drawn 'into great silence' - a near-three hour documentary about life in a carthusian monastery.

it is slow and quiet, and makes the radical gesture of not offering commentary on the lives of those it portrays.

the notion of spending a life in near-silence is threatening to me, perhaps to most of us; but by the end of the film i was almost ready to commit. the film-maker, philip groening, flicks up biblical quotations from time to time, returning to jesus' words about giving up everything to be his disciple. the repetition of this phrase has a hypnotic effect, and as the film builds and builds to a climax in which a blind monk discusses his faith, intercut with scenes of the most extraordinary physical beauty, groening manages to convince that the richness of these mens' lives is an astonishing reward for choosing not to live like the rest of us.