"American Idol" runner up Katherine McPhee may have thought the controversy surrounding her appearance in the final two instead of hugely popular rocker Chris Daughtry was going to be the most difficult moment of competing on the hit reality show. But that was before the rumors started swirling this past week about Katherine McPhee’s possible involvement in Scientology.
Was there an agenda behind Priscilla Presley's meeting with McPhee at Graceland? Was TomKat possibly responsible for the alleged irregular voting the week Chris Daughtry, the previous "Idol" favorite, went home?
No. During an exclusive interview on "Larry King Live" last weekend, McPhee rather defensively answered some questions about the rumors by saying she dabbled in Scientology only because of an ex-boyfriend. McPhee began her explanation by saying she was "young and I’m still finding my way in the world." She went on to explain that because she started dating someone approximately a year ago who was involved with Scientology, she decided to enroll in a couple of classes (she added vaguely that she did "other things" while experimenting with the religion as well)--only to later decide she no longer wanted to be affiliated with Scientology.
I guess that means the only thing scarier than a critique from Simon Cowell is a "purification rundown" --a common ritual among other celeb Scientologists.
If you’re like me, the worlds of spiritual reflection and cultural relevance often meet at Starbucks, where I go for anything from solitude and reflection time to business meetings or reunions with friends. So I’m a Starbucks lover, but I’m not sure I’m ready for its latest move.
Several major publications have recently reported on Starbucks’ intention to make a deeper dent into our cultural direction and our personal decisions. “Starbucks is changing what we eat and drink. It's altering where and when we work and play. It's shaping how we spend time and money. That's just for appetizers,” says USA Today. “Starbucks has an even glitzier goal: to help rewrite society's pop culture menu.”
“The company recently announced an alliance with the William Morris Agency, a talent and literary agency that will help Starbucks identify music, film, and book projects to consider for marketing and distribution in its stores,” offers The Washington Times.
And they’re not just floating the idea: They already have licensing agreements “with most of the major record labels that will give it the ability to offer everything from Britney Spears and The Polyphonic Spree to Yo-Yo Ma and Ray Charles,” reports Business Week. “Chairman Howard Schultz, sitting casually in his office near a photo of him arm-in-arm with Mick Jagger (said), ‘Our customers have given us permission to extend the experience.’"
I don’t know about you, but I haven’t given my permission. I find myself unsure of whether I want Starbucks to be a convenient marketplace or a break from it. I can handle, "Would you like a muffin or a bagel today?” or “Would you like to sample our latest coffee?” I’m not sure I’m ready for, “Can I get you a CD or DVD with your coffee today?” I think I want a break from being sold on something.
Says the USA Today article: “Schultz says Starbucks still has to earn its stripes as tastemaker. Much as it would like to become an ‘editor’ of culture, he says, ‘one of the great strengths of Starbucks is our humility.’
That’s a nice branding soundbite, but I think Starbucks is showing more pride than humility. I’m curious to see how it goes.
Whether she’s kissing Madonna, marrying a childhood friend in Vegas, or filming her own so-awful-it's-funny reality show, Britney Spears never fails to make for great sound bites and magazine covers. But, for me, the high points of my Britney fascination have been the ones connected to religion.
Britney was raised Southern Baptist, and she talked often in the press about wanting to adhere to its moral tenets, like waiting until marriage to have sex. Next up was Kabbalah, which Brit got interested in thanks to her friend and idol Madonna. More recently, paparazzi snapped photos of Britney taking her newborn son Sean Preston to get a Hindu blessing. There were even rumors of her getting involved with Scientology. Not long afterward, she publicly announced that she was done with Kabbalah because “her son was her religion.”
Like Madonna, Brit seems to know that you can never go wrong with some religious controversy, especially when you need to get the heat off of your personal life. And she’s had a lot of heat in the last few weeks, as she and hubby Kevin Federline have allegedly separated and she has been investigated by the L.A. Department of Child Services. How does a girl cope? If she’s Britney, she posts a poem on her Web site. It’s a free-form “buzz off” to someone (Federline?) peppered with Biblical references like this one:
You come to me now Why do you bother? Remember the Bible The sins of the Father. What you do You pass down No wonder why I lost my crown.
Illegible rhyme scheme aside, is Britney using Biblical references to give insight into her psyche? Are the “sins of the Father” metaphorical, or is she dissing Federline’s parenting skills?
Later on, she writes,“My crown is back / And it's way too high.” This could be an allusion to Jesus’ Crown of Thorns and an indication of her own personal torment. Or she could be talking about her hair, since the Bible refers to a woman’s hair as her “crowning glory.” If Britney worships her son, perhaps she sees him as Jesus and herself as the Virgin Mary, complete with halo, as if she's in a Renaissance painting. But that's just my own speculation, of course. Maybe it's all just a clever way to compare herself to her idol, Madonna, instead of the actual Madonna.
Regardless of what my BA in English and I might think of Britney’s literary efforts, I appreciate that she’s trying to deal with her feelings in verse. And I’m looking forward to her next religious incarnation. Has she tried Mormonism yet?
"Peaceful Warrior"--the movie version of the novel, "Way of the Peaceful Warrior," written by former Olympic gymnast turned bestselling author Dan Millman--hits theaters up and down the West Coast this weekend. (Over the course of June, it will make its way East as well. To watch some clips from the movie, click here.)
As a former serious gymnast myself, I was impressed with the fact that "Peaceful Warrior" faces head on the fears--both real and psychological--that gymnasts struggle with, especially as they move higher up the competition scale. Olympics TV broadcasts often glorify gymnastics, sensationalizing the extreme disappointments and the exciting and unexpected successes (especially of the women), but fail to truly explore the mind games competitive gymnasts face on a regular basis. It is not uncommon for gymnasts to conjure up all sorts of demons regarding especially difficult moves, as is the case in the movie, where viewers are privy to the nightmares Dan (the main character) has about his routines on the rings.
I remember vividly the fears I associated with particular flips on the beam; with the enormous concentration needed for vaults; and with hitting the spring board just right, to get enough height. I remember playing these moves over and over in my mind, imagining myself crashing in all sorts of horrible ways--in a manner similar to the visions Dan has of himself falling from the rings and mangling his body.
In my case, as the mind games got overly intense and the fears grew too enormous to withstand, I eventually quit. Yet the plot of "Peaceful Warrior" turns instead on Dan's chance encounter with a man at a local gas station whom he learns to call Socrates (played by Nick Nolte). Socrates teaches him how to quell the demons with Eastern philosophy and a range of Zen meditation techniques (which sometimes come off rather "Karate Kid"-like).
Through Dan's relationship with this mysterious man who doles out wisdom left and right--such as, "You are not who you think you are"--to a confused and, at first, resistant Dan, Dan learns to master his fears, become the moves of his routines, and overcome a potential identity crisis involving the loss of his Olympic dream and his future as a gymnast. The movie is ultimately of the inspirational genre, yet rather than have it turn on the simple theme of "the comeback," it explores the notion of becoming spiritually centered as foundational to the possibility of a comeback.
Be warned: Viewers may cringe at the inevitable and rather corny allusions to "The Karate Kid," as well as the familiar, cliched philosopher-sage advice continually emerging from the mouth of Socrates. (It gets a bit over the top). But the way the film develops the relationship between becoming spiritually centered and finding success in life--particularly in sports (and most specifically, gymnastics)--is intriguing nonetheless. The story is sure to have athletes, both former and current, reflecting on their own self-conjured mind games and demons, and whether Eastern philosophy and meditative practices might be helpful in conquering these common psychological struggles in the world of competitive sports.
Several Sundays ago I surprised myself: Instead of settling into my Sunday night ritual of watching a new episode of the Sopranos, I kept the TV set to off. I told myself I'd watch it "On Demand" the next day or sometime that next week, but the week passed, another Sunday arrived, and I'd yet to catch up. Again I told myself I would watch both episodes later, but again didn't end up choosing to make the time. And it's not like I felt I was missing something, either. That second Sunday--one of the TV nights I had most looked forward to because of the new episodes of "Sopranos"--I realized that I simply didn't want to be put through another episode.
For me, watching "The Sopranos" had become a stressful and upsetting experience--and not stressful-fun, as is often the case with a show like "24," but all-too-depressing and ever-more disturbing. The character of Tony Soprano, who in past seasons held onto some semblance of a moral character, started this season seeming to show moral promise after his near-death experience, but then he simply launched into a downward spiral from there (though he had one rather heroic moment of resisting yet another adulterous relationship due to his promise to Carmela). Paulie seems to get ever more ruthless, as does the once sympathetic, youthful Christopher. And one plotline seems to forever foreshadow the hunting down and ultimate execution of one mafia head--Vito Spatafore--who was outed as gay. I just can't take it any more.
After all my months of catching up on five seasons of "The Sopranos" in order to be ready for the new one this March, we're now not even halfway through the 12 episodes, and I've given it up. And my Sundays are happier for it.
After nearly three decades out of the musical spotlight, Yusuf Islam--formerly known as Cat Stevens--is back with the promise of a new album. Inspired by growing tensions between his beloved religion and the West, the singer-songwriter will be releasing a collection of songs that he originally worked on 20 years ago, according to the BBC.
The new album will be released on the 40th anniversary of Islam’s first record, “I Love My Dog,” which came out in November, 1966.
After he converted to Islam and changed his name in 1977, Yusuf Islam dropped out of the music world and became involved with London’s Muslim community by becoming a teacher and founding a popular Islamic school. Since his conversion, Islam had released several albums of spoken word and religious music (some of which I have and love).
He re-released his hit “Peace Train” in opposition to the Iraq war and has consistently spoken out against Islamic extremists as being contradictory to the peaceful nature of the religion. I can’t help but think his activity on this issue inadvertently led to the strange incident in 2004 when the U.S. refused his entry to this country (when he was coming to receive a peace award from a group of Nobel Peace Laureates) on grounds that he was “a threat to national security.”
So why, after so long, is Islam returning to popular music? In his true humble style, Islam told The Independent that “there were 100 reasons for leaving the music industry, not least because I had found what I was looking for spiritually. Today there are perhaps one hundred and one good reasons why I feel right making music and singing about life in this fragile world again."
The end of the eight-year run of the WB's "Charmed" also marked the passing of a programming trend that began in the mid-late 90s, Wicca and witches. The proliferation of this particular primetime paganism--or rather, this artistic approximation of paganism--began with ABC’s "Sabrina the Teenage Witch" in 1996. Based on the Archie comic book series, Sabrina (played by Melissa Joan Hart) her two bachelorette, witch aunts, and ex-wizard cat, Salem, found themselves in many a zany situation thanks to miscast spells and improper potions.
A year later, “Felicity” and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” jumped on board, featuring more realistic Wiccan characters. Sure, Felicity’s roommate Meghan was a bit odd and “Buffy’s” Willow would later turn evil and try to destroy the world, but both these characters were portrayed practicing Wicca as a craft and not casting crazy spells to save the prom.
These girls with power mirrored the larger "Girl Power" zeitgeist of the mid-late '90s. Uberproducer Aaron Spelling took the broomstick and flew with it, so to speak. In 1998, “Charmed” debuted to huge numbers and would remain popular. The Sisters Halliwell--originally Pru, Piper, and Phoebe,later Piper, Phoebe, and Paige--were known as the "Charmed" ones, witches who have special abilities dubbed "the power of three."
And while the show took artistic, action-driven license, it also provided a decent representation of a belief system not often portrayed on television. Reviewer Wren Walker noted that while warlocks don't actually try to steal witches' powers, "The pronunciations were good, the tools were explained well, and some ethical considerations were mentioned. The altars looked messy enough to be real--I guess not even Hollywood magick do anything about wax drippings--and the sisters wore-gasp!-regular clothing even when casting spells!"
More importantly however, the gals of "Charmed" cast a spell over the audiences making their eight-year run the longest running show with all female leads. Now that's Girl Power!
Discrimination. Genetic engineering. The Federal government invading private citizens' privacy. What has made the "X-Men" comic books and their recent adaptations on the big screen (“X-Men,” “X-Men United”) better than the average superhero-action-adventure fare is the way the mythology and backstory of these genetic mutants with supernatural capabilities manages to address serious issues that are spiritually and culturally relevant.
The pursuit of tolerance and truth continues this weekend with the opening of “X-Men: The Last Stand,” the third and (supposedly) final chapter in the film series. In the film, Wolverine (Hugh Jackman) and the rest of the mutants once again defend humanity against the evil Magneto, even while they themselves are the victims of hatred and bigotry--but this time with a twist. The X-Men are unexpectedly presented with an opportunity to become “normal.”
With the help the latest recruits, The Beast and Angel (one has apelike strength and one has wings), the X-Men face the resurrection of a former teammate turned foe, Jean Grey. Possessed with the cosmic power of the Dark Phoenix, Jean Grey is now a force of evil and destruction. In an attempt to save the world one more time, the X-Men accidentally discover a potential cure that would treat--and ultimately eliminate --genetic mutations. Gone would be the X-Men’s outcast status, but gone, too, would be their superpowers. By morphing into the ordinary, the X-Men realize that world peace may be possible--or not--but their own identity and purpose would be potentially lost forever.
Sound like a lot for a “popcorn” movie to take on? Well, it is. There are truly fascinating moments worthy of discussion in this film, but they are often buried under the onslaught of spectacular special effects. National landmarks are blown-up and fight sequence after fight sequence overshadows the important ideas that are given only sound-byte lip service sporadically throughout the story. There is also a lot of low-brow humor that betrays the charm of Wolverine and some of the other mutants, which was evident in the previous films.
In spite of “The Last Stand’s” shortcomings, I still recommend the film, and I don’t think die-hard "X Men" fans will be too disappointed. Any movie that dares ask you to think about how you can be kinder to others--while you are watching bridges and buildings being blown to bits--beats out that other blockbuster movie about some albino monk beating himself up over a convolated conspiracy any day.
Fans of all things magical and related to Harry Potter will be happy to know scientists are hard at work turning Harry's famous invisibility cloak--the one that allows him to maraud about Hogwarts undetected by the likes of Snape and Mr. Filch--from pure fantasy into reality.
Skeptical are you? Have a little faith!
Andrew Bridges of the Associated Press reports in an article called "Harry Potter-like Invisibility Cloak Theoretically Possible" that scientists are busy "laying out a blueprint for turning science fiction into reality" and that "nothing's stopping them from making such a cloak"--at least in theory. They are still working out the bugs for the materials necessary.
How does it work then? All you need are a few "exotic materials with an ability to steer light and other forms of electromagnetic radiation around a cloaked object, rendering it as invisible as something tucked into a hole in space," writes Bridges. "Instead, like a river streaming around a smooth boulder, light and all other forms of electromagnetic radiation would strike the cloak and simply flow around it, continuing on as if it never bumped up against an obstacle. That would give an onlooker the apparent ability to peer right through the cloak, with everything tucked inside concealed from view."
Sounds pretty amazing, but as to whether it is practical everyday wear, physicist John Pendry told Bridges, "To be realistic, it's going to be fairly thick. Cloak is a misnomer. 'Shield' might be more appropriate."
“But what about my friends?” In between all of the revelations about the hatch--I mean, hatches--and the return of Desmond, the guy the island survivors found in the hatch, it was still that line--spoken by roly-poly Hurley--that moved me the most as I watched the season finale of “Lost.”As Michael betrayed his friends by contributing to their capture by the evil, mysterious people known as "the Others" in exchange for his son, Walt, only Hurley was released by the Others with an order to return to camp and warn the rest of the castaways not to rescue their friends.
With so much being made of Jack and Locke as rivals for leadership over the motley assortment of survivors, the writers of “Lost” cleverly introduced a new savior figure into the plot--and he weighs about 300 pounds, loves ranch dressing. and was once in a psychiatric facility. Yes, it is now up to the insecure, down-on-his-luck--even if he did win the lottery back home--Hurley to figure out how to save Locke, Jack, Sawyer, and Kate from torture and possibly even death.. Though we won’t known for sure until next season, with this new twist to the “Lost” saga, I believe fans of the show can look forward to seeing Hurley join the likes of such great characters as Frodo Baggins from "Lord of The Rings" as he fulfills his hero's quest and evolves from an innocent fool to warrior and defender.
As promised in all the hype about the season finale of “Lost,” obsessed viewers learned the following: What happens when the "save the world" counter stops at zero... and the buttons aren't pushed.
At the beginning of Season Two, Locke is still in his born-again phase of faith. He is bright-eyed, open minded, and idealistic. The hatch is his church and everything is part of the grand design of Fate. Shouldering the responsibility of savior, Locke argues for continuing to push the buttons while Jack, the cynical "atheist," argues against.
Throughout the season, Locke’s faith is tested… and it slowly wanes. His faith is lackluster against Mr. Eko’s religious fanaticism. When Locke meets Henry Gale, Locke becomes a psychologically tortured savior. Henry is Satan on the mountaintop, testing Jesus. When Locke discovers the Pearl (the hatch with TV monitors), he faces the ultimate test of faith: Is the counter a hoax or just another part of the island's master plan? Having battled against Henry Gale and been temporarily "crucified" under steel doors, Locke decides to abandon his faith in the island. He becomes Jack, the rational man. In his new role, he lets the counter run to zero and enlists Desmond's help to do so.
After Desmond and Locke force Mr. Eko (the Locke stand-in) outside of the counter room, they wait. When the counter begins winding down to zero, Locke still nurtures his "atheistic" belief that nothing will happen. Meanwhile, as Desmond slowly realizes the counter is real, he searches for the key that will save the hatch, and the world. Even after Desmond scoffs at Locke's initial ideas of Fate bringing him to the hatch, Desmond assumes the role of world savior and tells Locke: “Now it’s my turn to save you.” For someone who claims to not to believe in Fate, he realizes perhaps too late, that Fate is real.
Locke, meanwhile, is Doubting Thomas, unwilling to believe disaster until he has faced it—and when confronted with it, can only say: “I was wrong.” In the end, the hatch becomes the tomb of multiple saviors—the ultimate savior being Desmond (whose fate is unknown after saving the island), Mr. Eko (who fails trying to stop the countdown), and Locke (who may or may not rise from his faithless stupor and become born-again…again). There is hope for one or all three (a number signifying the trinity) to rise again—and to reconnect with their faith.
Once upon a time, the Indianapolis 500 was as American as, well, as NASCAR and Bible Belt Christianity. This weekend's 500 is as loud, fast, and potentially lethal as any stock-car event, but the open-wheel racers of the Indy Racing League circuit are an elite, relatively cosmopolitan set--equestrians to NASCAR's rodeo cowpokes—and the top qualifiers include a Brazilian Catholic, and a Brit about whose denomination this week's Christian Science Monitor's story on faith at the 500 is suspiciously silent.
But the Monitor makes clear that NASCAR doesn't hold a monopoly on monotheism. Though pit-side prayer meetings are not common, the circuit does have an official chaplain who arranges for services for the racers in their venues around the world. And where three dozen cars go into a turn at 180 m.p.h., there are guaranteed to be few aetheists. "I find myself really leaning hard on my relationship with God," one competitor tells the Monitor. Sam Hornish, who holds the pole position for Sunday's race, says that as a child he considered becoming a minister.
For parents who strive to get to church on time each week, however, the best insight into Hornish's calling comes when he also notes that his family attended a church 30 miles away from their home. That, ladies and gentlemen, is how race-car drivers are made.
It's a good thing Idol Chatter didn't wait until its long-awaited Solomon Islands vacation to see "The Da Vinci Code." The N.Y. Times reports that the small Pacific nation plans to ban the controversial movie... even though there are no movie theaters in the entire country.
It's comforting to know that, should some entrepreneur suddenly see a business opportunity in the cinema-deprived Solomon Islands and quickly open a theater, the country's 500,000 residents (97% of whom are Christian) will be protected against any inclinations this savvy business person might have to launch his venture with Ron Howard's little art-house flick as its first feature.
I heard a sermon on Broadway last night, and it wasn't in the nearby Church of Scientology. It is the opening scene of the Pulitzer Prize-winning "Doubt," and it sets the tone for a powerful play that poses the questions: How far do we go in the pursuit of righting a (perceived) wrong? How do we balance our own inner certainty with an always-more-ambiguous reality?
The setting was the 1960s, but the scenario was achingly contemporary: At a Catholic grade school, a nun suspects a young priest of abusing at least one student. No doubt about what to do there, right? Protect the boy, do whatever it takes to separate the priest from his victims and potential victims. But it's not so simple. The play sets up two alternate narratives, each with its holes but both equally plausible.
The first: A popular priest gets too close with a student and takes advantage of a boy who is in need of attention and love, especially from a male role model. A slick-talker, he's been in trouble before, but managed to weasel out, and get transferred to a new parish without his new community knowing a thing. And in his new position, like his old one, the church hierarchy handles complaints by asking the accused whether it's true and believing his denials. Faced with an institution unwilling to act, the individual must step up and do what she can to protect the children.
The second: It is normal--necessary--for a priest to befriend his flock members and to take a special interest in the needs of those shunned by friends or facing difficult, even abusive, family situations. Parishioners and school children can flourish if treated with warmth, friendliness, and a casual approachability, in contrast to the strict, aloof, law-and-order authority figures of past generations. Discipline must sometimes take a back seat to pity, and every gesture of compassion and friendship cannot be subject to dark scrutiny--or else the priest will feel a need to back off, leaving his charges confused, hurt, and vulnerable.
Which narrative is true? Caught in the middle of two strong personalities--the accuser and the accused--a young, naive nun switches beliefs in response to the stronger argument of the moment, and hopes more than anything for peace to return. My wife and I both agreed that through the play's first half, the story didn't present enough ambiguity, failing to achieve its titular doubt--but she thought Narrative 1 was obviously true, while I thought #2 was the clear winner. So maybe doubt was achieved after all.
I was sad to hear that this play is closing soon on Broadway, but New York's loss is the rest of America's gain: it's hitting the road for a national tour. "Doubt" is a "Crucible" for our times--a plea to refrain from witchhunts, even in the pursuit of an unambiguously correct goal, and a reminder to question our own beliefs and motives at all times and not let ego and personal feelings get in the way of our morality.
"In the pursuit of wrongdoing, we take a step away from God," the suspicious nun says twice. In one instance, she follows that remark up by saying, "But it's in His service." At another, she repeats the line but follows it with, "Of course there's a price to pay." We'd do well to remember both of those sentiments.
It's happened to me many times—a mind-blowing coincidence will occur, and I'll think, "If this happened in a movie or a book, it would be totally corny and unbelievable." Which is why it takes such great skill to make coincidence unfold in fiction with authentic, goosebump-giving ease. This skill was sorely necessary in making the long-awaited film rendition of the novel "The Celestine Prophecy," James Redfield's bestselling (five million copies and counting) new age bible that revolves around notions of synchronicity, energy fields, and our overall cosmic connectedness.
Like "The Da Vinci Code," on paper Celestine was never known for its literary genius. But it was beloved for the way it named and played out new age spiritual beliefs in succinct, applicable ways. The allegorical adventure tale followed a school-teacher on his unlikely journey to Peru to help uncover and understand a manuscript that had been repressed and literally buried by the Catholic Church for hundreds of years. While there, he learned his way through the nine "insights" held in the scrolls, which included things like understanding "meaningful coincidences" as evidence of humanity's quickly accelerating consciousness; knowing that subtle energies connect people and the natural world; and relating in a way that responsibly manages that energy for everyone's good.
The screenplay, also written by Redfield, is relatively faithful to the book. An aloof teacher named John (woodenly played by a pretty, blank Matthew Settle) gets laid off, and meets up with an old girlfriend. She tells him about her recent trip to Peru, encouraging him to go because she thought of him the whole time she was there. She also works in an observation of his relationship issues: "You always want to have someone around because it makes you feel good," she says, "but it doesn't work out because you're not really there."
Most of the dialogue is equally brain-smashingly obvious. Then the coincidences begin in full: John goes home that night and a Peru brochure is mixed in with his other mail; he doesn't see it yet, but a zooming, lingering camera makes sure we do. He discovers it the next day as he's using a phone book to look up a travel agency (do either still exist outside of Hollywood?), while his decidedly current-day computer is sitting right there. And we hear him say to the agent, "Cancellation? Tomorrow? I'll take it."
Though the handling of synchronicity is blown, what the movie does better than the book are the scenes in Peru that show auras in action. We first see them as John hits on fellow scroll-studier Marjorie (Sarah Wayne Callies)—his reddish energy bubble starts trying to take over her energy bubble. Marjorie quickly runs off, and bewildered, John asks his guide, Julia, played by Annabeth Gish (of "Mystic Pizza" fame) what he did wrong. "Remember the halos the old masters used to paint around their religious figures?" she asks. "It's the energy, John. You may not be conscious of it, but you were trying to take her energy. She could see it, and so could I."
Unfortunately, that's about as nifty as it gets (though the glowing plant-energy is pretty cool too). The rest is a preposterous unfolding of the insights, plus thriller-ish chases and violence by a church-fueled military. We're supposed to see a transformation in John as he groks the insights, but not even his hair appears to change as he runs through the jungle for days. As now proven by both "Da Vinci" and "Celestine," in book form it seems easier to overlook bad dialogue and poor character development to ferret out the juicy spiritual bits. The former is much harder to overlook—and the latter harder to seek—when the medium is a large, unforgiving
screen that needs to satisfy in a couple of hours.
It's generally a sign of a rock star's age--and fading relevance--when her fans are called "the faithful," even when the artist in question is the renegade Roman Catholic-turned-Kabbalist Madonna. At 47, the singer kicked off her latest world tour this week with an act patently designed to appeal to her die-hards, who like their irreverence adminstered with a little glitz. Halfway through her accustomed set of costume changes and simulated sex acts, Mrs. Ritchie performed her '80s hit "Live to Tell" while affixed to a mirrored cross and wearing a crown of thorns. "Just another day at the office for Madonna," yawned her hometown paper, London's Daily Mail.
Madonna once earned herself great notoriety, of course, by hashing out her none-too-original but flashily expressed feelings about Catholicism in her videos and stage shows. Once upon a time, before "The DaVinci Code," the Vatican condemned her "Like a Prayer" video, in which singer frolicked amid burning crosses and danced with a black Jesus. But in a time when the church is fending off claims that Jesus was married with children, and Christ is spurting blood like a geyser from the cross in Mel's "Passion," neither Jesus' sexuality nor his death retains much power to shock.
Her mock crucifixion's impact is doubtless diluted, too, by Madonna's own abandonment of Catholicism for Jewish mysticism. (Last night's show also included a shofar, the ritual ram's horn blown at the Jewish New Year.) Surely, one benefit of adopting Kabbalah is being rid one's lapsed-Catholic hangups--unless, as we begin to suspect, Madonna's martyrdom complex never had much to do with the church or Jesus. In an odd complement to her "Like a Virgin" number, slides of Madonna's broken bones, suffered in a fall from a horse, flashed behind her on a mammoth screen, like the relics of St. Madge. When you attain the rarified stratosphere Madonna operates in, who but Jesus can really feel your pain?
So while the Catholic League and Madonna's hometown state religion, the Church of England, have made their usual protests to her new show, their defense of the traditional cross feels off point. Asked an Anglican spokesman, "Is Madonna prepared to take on everything else that goes with wearing a crown of thorns?" Duh, dude, she totally already has!
Beliefnet editors receive dozens of books each week, some memorable, some not so much. Every once in a while, however, a book's back cover description is so arresting that it lingers in the mind for days. So it was with the Christian "socio-spiritual" fantasy novel "The Dogs of Snoqualmie," to be published this fall:
Snoqualmie, a valley east of Seattle, is the fertile setting for a new fiction trilogy from esteemed storyteller Calvin Miller, who adds a daring dash of fantasy to magnify his view of Christian truth.
In this first book of the trilogy, a soon-to-be-divorced Jewish psychiatrist is counseling a homophobic murderer who has trained his German Shepherd to kill. The next victim is to be a New Age feminist whose environmental pull has pushed the killer’s hot buttons. Amidst the drama, a demented priest and his wolf companion emerge as Christlike symbols who take these characters to the edge of faith, bringing forth a peaceable kingdom.
In order to fit in the two-hour season finale of "Lost" during prime time evening hours this Wednesday, ABC decided to pit the (also two-hour) series finale of "Alias" against the (also two-hour) season finale of Fox's "24" tonight.
What were they thinking?
Granted, as Mike Duffy reports in his article for the "Detroit Free Press," this is "no biggie in the age of TiVo." Yet, at least to this particular fan (namely me), having to choose between two goods, and also to ostensibly put them in order of preference is not very happy making in this week of the TV-blockbuster-finale. (It is my own version of what Mike Duffy called "the holy blockbuster trinity" of finales from last year, which this year includes not only the season finales of "24," "Alias," and "Lost," but also this year's finale of popular hits like "Desperate Housewives," among others.)
But, as no Christian should be forced to put the three persons of the Trinity in hierarchical order (and relax,readers, I'm just having some metaphorical fun here), I take offense at being forced to do so with my own trinity of pop culture favorites. Alas, the decision lies before me. Whether tonight I will pledge my allegiance to my longtime yet dying favorite, "Alias," over the extraordinarily addictive yet slated to return, "24," still remains to be seen (literally).
On last night's "Simpsons" season finale, Homer had the following astute observation about his marriage to Marge: "We been through more hardships than the Jews and Charlie Brown put together."
So who did go through more challenges and troubles: The Chosen People, or the bald cartoon character?
While Christians from all over the world have been flocking to the Cannes Film Festival to protest the premiere of “The Da Vinci Code,” a totally different kind of film about faith and Christianity is also debuting at Cannes this weekend. “Rising Son” is a biopic about legendary skateboarder Christian Hosoi’s hugely successful skateboarding career, which ended abruptly when he was sent to prison for drug trafficking. The film, narrated by renegade actor and cultural icon Dennis Hopper, tracks Hosoi’s childhood, rise to fame (you know, if skatebarders could ever really be considered celebrities...), and release from prison in 2004 as a changed man who had experienced a religious conversion to Christianity.
I can’t exactly imagine the French--or the Hollywood elite, for that matter--standing in line, much less doing a heelflip, kickturn, or a nosegrab, to catch this particular flick, but maybe Hosoi's story of grit, determination, and redemption translates into inspiration in any language. Still, even though I have not seen the film, I can't help but feel a little disappointment that the only overtly Christian film at Cannes is yet another rags-to-riches testimony story that will probably only appeal to a nich market instead of creating spiritual discussion on a larger scale with the film community at large.
Thank heaven for little girls, goes the old song. Thank Sonny Sandoval, of the Christian heavy-metal group P.O.D., for the most popular new name for little girls: Nevaeh--or "heaven" written backwards. Since Sandoval revealed his then-new daughter's name during an MTV appearance in 2000, the incidence of Neveah has rocketed from just eight girls to 70th, by far the fastest rise in that period. Before Sandoval, the only inspiration for the name, according to research by Cleveland Evans, author of "The Great Big Book of Baby Names," were the novels of V.C. Andrews, whose teenage heroine was nicknamed Heaven.
Though the New York Times says evangelical Christians are prone to naming their children Nevaeh, Evans says the popularity of the name has less to do with religious fervor than the association—as in the old song—with little girls and heaven, or angels.
The name almost necessarily presumes an admirable lack of superstition as well, given the traditional connection of backward-spelled words, especially holy ones, with mayhem, or Satan himself. From ancient Egypt to Stanley Kubrick's "redrum," reversing the letters of a word has been a means of summoning evil--"live" spelled backwards.
"The Da Vinci Code" is finally here. The P.R. machine that had Tom Hanks and his "Da Vinci" 'do at the Oscars and trailers running for a year has succeeded. The reviews are out. Ministries around the world are spreading the word about the “fiction” of The Code. This week’s water-cooler question is, “Are you going to see it?” Next week’s will be, “What’d you think of it?”
I think the most important question will not be what we think about the film, but instead, “What do we think about its main character?” And that main character is not Leonardo da Vinci or Tom Hanks or Mary Magdalene. The main character—The One whose identity and purpose is at the center of the story—is Jesus Christ.
"Almost everything our fathers taught us about Christ is false," says the book on page 235. What do you think about that? What do I? Those questions about Him far outweigh what we think of the film. Each of us has the right—and the responsibility—to make our own decisions about who He is and what that has to do with our lives. Our decision in that regard far transcends opinions and discussions about how good this movie is.
And for me, that is the most exciting and continuing drama—the one about how God has reached out to His creation to explain and reveal who He is through Creation, the Incarnation, the Bible, and His providential acts. It is not only more lasting and intriguing than any movie, it's a drama in which you and I play a significant part.
"The Da Vinci Code" movie, like the novel it's based on, is ridiculous, obvious, over-the-top--and yet oddly compelling, a guilty pleasure that wraps interesting pseudohistory and pseudotheology into a shoot-'em-up thriller. In other words, if you liked the book, you'll probably like the movie. Ditto if you hated or were offended by it. As the critics have their field day hurling insults at the movie, it's hard not to see "Da Vinci" as a victim of unrealistic expectations. Say what you will about the book, but it is anything but subtle or plausible, and the movie follows suit. Watching the story on film, the absurdities of the plot and campiness of the dialogue are heightened, but I'm not sure why anyone would be surprised by that.
Though the film is too long and doesn't always have the fast-paced feel of the novel, Ron Howard's film is unlikely to sway any minds in the debate over the story's attitudes and allegations about Christianity. The faith--traditional Christian beliefs and their development--comes off ever-so-slightly better on screen than in the novel. Robert Langdon, the hero-professor at the center of the story, here is given a moment of true faith, and in a possible bone to critics, makes an attempt to bridge the worlds of skepticism and faith that are at war in the story. In streamlining the characters' long theological discourses, screenwriter Akiva Goldsman focuses on Mary Magdalene and the supposed ramifications of her suppression in the early church, and discards most of the talk about the feminine divine, Christianity's pagan roots, and rituals of sensuality and sexuality allegedly eliminated by church leaders.
As for the church--the people, the institution--the opposite is true. Vatican leaders are more deeply involved in the murderous plot than in book, and the accusations leveled at the church, of suppression (both of the violent and theological varieties) are sharp. In flashback scenes that are too cartoonish not to provoke unintended laughter, director Ron Howard dramatizes the Crusades and the Knights Templar, along with the Inquisition and other moments of Christian violence, emphasizing the brutality of the church's actions.
There was a moment in "The Da Vinci Code" that reminded me of the last movie to have touched a cultural nerve this deeply. Though the two are as different as can be in content and intention, both "The Passion of the Christ" and "Da Vinci" offer scenes of salacious, graphic, needless mutilation--the first when Jesus' skin is flayed by Roman guards, the second when the murderous Opus Dei monk Silas beats himself ritually and the camera lingers on his injured body. I doubt the connection was intentional, and am not saying there's any thematic connection between the two films. But thinking of both these scenes--and both these movies--is a reminder of how difficult it is for all but the most masterful filmmakers to depict subtlety and emotional depth on screen; the medium lends itself to the exaggerated and sensational, and neither film rises above that. You may find "Da Vinci" fun and intriguing, or you may find it offensive and upsetting, but either way, you won't find profundity.
John Travolta and Tom Cruise aren't the only Scientology fans in Tinsel Town. In an article titled "Why Scientology is Good For Hollywood," design writer Alissa Walker praises the organization for sustaining architectural landmarks in the area's seedy downtown. "With seemingly little self-awareness, Scientology has become the unofficial pioneer of Hollywood’s gentrification movement," Walker writes. The old Guaranty Building, above, a 1920s Beaux Arts gem where gossip columnist Hedda Hopper had her office, houses Scientology's headquarters, while nearby the historic Hotel Christie sports a half-block-long SC-I-E-N-T-O-L-O-G-Y sign. But, says Walker, " The crown jewel of Scientology’s heirlooms is the Chateau Elysee, a 1929 replica of a 17th century French chateau now known as the Celebrity Centre International.
To get a glimpse of the chateau's interior, Walker hazards a tour of the Celebrity Centre, even allowing her e-meter readings to be taken for a chance to see the building's fabled garden. "Maybe, I thought, in Scientology speak, architectural renovation serves as a stirring metaphor for spiritual rebirth. As students of Scientology ascend the Bridge towards total self-determinism, maybe they also climb the architectural ranks," she says, "the penthouse of the Chateau Elysee tantalizing them along with their dreams of becoming level-seven Operating Thetans."
Sir Ian McKellen, who plays historian Sir Leigh Teabing in "The Da Vinci Code," is not staying out of the fray that swirls around the film.
Unlike director Ron Howard and star Tom Hanks, who have publically reiterated the line that the film is entirely a work of fiction, McKellen mischeviously hinted that he was convinced by Dan Brown's argument that Mary Magdalene married Jesus and bore his child. McKellen, who is gay, told The Independent newspaper, "When I read the book I believed it entirely. When I put the book down I thought what a load of potential codswallop. But I'm very happy to believe that Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene. I know that the Catholic Church has problems with gay people. I thought that would be absolute proof Jesus was not gay."
McKellen, who was speaking at the Cannes Film Festival, also accused the popular culture of "snobbery" because it has exploded with far more criticism of the film than it did of the book. He asked, "Is that because readers can be trusted to have minds whereas people who go to see movies are the mindless masses that need to be protected?"
The big, fat extra-special 1,000th issue of Rolling Stonejust arrived at the door complete with a psychedelic, 3-D cover featuring just about every rocker imaginable. The theme of this special edition is a cover art retrospective (which could double as an early Annie Leibovitz gallery showing) and it's a must-flip-through if you happen to be in the bookstore and browsing.
Featured covers that stood out most memorably?
Rolling Stone Issue #22 from November 23rd, 1968, featuring an in-the-buff couples shot of John Lennon and Yoko Ono, with a photo caption that reads, "And they were both naked, the man and this wife, and were not ashamed."
The Rolling Stone Issues that make me cringe: #701, #729, #793, and perhaps most cringe-inducing of all, #909 and #932, featuring Demi Moore, Jennifer Aniston, Laetitia Casta, Christina Aguilera, and Britney Spears respectively (yet not so respecfully), all virtually naked in some sexed-up pose, and displayed across a centerfold spread. Ugh, ugh, ugh! Why, oh why, do women (girls even!) have to take off all their clothes to don the cover of Rolling Stone? (Readers should note: Almost all covers featuring male artists have them fully clothed and almost all those of female artists are partially or fully unclothed. Interesting, isn't it?)
Rolling Stone #993 from February 9th of this year, memorably features Kanya West as a thorn-crowned Christ figure and blogged about here by my fellow writer Ellen Leventry in her entry, "Kanye West's God Complex."
My overall take-away from this restrospective's perspective--religious artists, at least ones that haven't made it mainstream, seem virtually absent from this mega-magazine's eye.
Alvin the Chipmunk; Geddy Lee of Rush; Polyphonic Spree; The Violent Femmes' Gordon Gano... Daniel Smith, the leader of the indie-gospel band Danielson Famile (sic), has been compared to any number of musical masters. The Famile's new album, "Ships," shows both why critics reach for familiar anchors to try to make sense of Smith's music, and why all comparisons are useless. The album, which The Philadelphia Inquirer saluted as "difficult but compelling," is a clattering, upbeat and nearly indechiperable collection, inspired by a love of Jesus.
The Danielson Famile grew from a real set of Smith brothers and sisters raised by a Pentecostal father in rural New Jersey (and you thought "indie-gospel" was an oxymoron). Though they don't witness on stage, group members do commonly wear nurse and doctor togs (to symbolize the healing of their music) or perform from inside a papier-mache tree (bearing the good fruit), and Smith unabashedly proclaims their faith in interviews. First recorded by the geniuses at Tooth & Nail, the decidedly non-Nashville Christian label, Danielson has become a cult favorite, providing songs for the recent indie film "Thumbsucker" and becoming the subject of a documentary film which showed recently at the South By Southwest festival.
One more sign that the Christian musical ghetto is crumbling? Well, maybe: Though Danielson is accepted within Christian circles, they are too off-kilter and oblique in their lyrics to set off alarm bells with secular audiences. All the same, their faith has operated, says Smith, "as a wonderful monkey wrench." Isn't that precisely what Christ intended? Click here and scroll down to hear some of the new CD.
The first reviews of "The Da Vinci Code" are out after its debut at Cannes. And the verdict, seemingly unanimous, is: thumbs down. One critic called it "an unwieldy, bloated puzzle," and another said it is "a stodgy, grim thing."See this piece for more what's in store for Ron Howard, Tom Hanks, et al.
Of course, bad news for "Da Vinci" is good news for its many detractors. The Catholic League wasted no time sharing their glee, issuing this press release summarizing some of the spicier barbs thrown at the film by critics.
Stay tuned for Idol Chatter's first review of the movie, which will be published here tomorrow.
A few months ago I blogged--not-so flatteringly, I might add--about one novel response to the upcoming movie release of “The Da Vinci Code.” Barbara Nicolosi--a former nun who's now the executive director of Act One, a program that trains Christians to work in Hollywood--had suggested that Christians refrain from boycotting the movie, and instead “othercott” it. What's an "othercott"? Othercotting means going to the movies this weekend to see something besides "Da Vinci"--specifically the animated family movie “Over the Hedge.” By doing so, Christians would be sending a message of disapproval to Hollywood by looking at the price of a movie ticket as a vote, a way to make their voice heard in Hollywood--and using that voice to vote against "The Da Vinci Code."
Considering I am a former student of Barbara’s and I know first-hand how intelligent and passionate she is, I should know better than to underestimate her, which I did by pooh-poohing the othercott idea when I first heard about it. I shouldn’t be surprised that support for the othercott has really picked up steam. With the help of a Catholic group called The DaVinci Outeach, there is now a website devoted to the othercott, informing the religious community how to get involved. But even more impressive is the fact that The New York Times, USA Today, and many other media outlets have gotten wind of the othercott and are giving the idea some serious buzz. And that doesn't include the fact that all three major networks have interviewed Barbara for soundbytes on the evening news.
So even if I wasn't smart enough to pay attention to this idea a few months ago, I'm guessing that right about now, Sony Pictures, the studio releasing "The Da Vinci Code," is hanging on every word that those of us planning to othercott have to say.
Celebrity gossip site Perezhilton.com reports that Britney Spears has put the kibosh on her study of Kabbalah. Introduced to the belief system by Madonna, it seems that motherhood is trumping mysticism, as Spears explained in the "Love B: Stream of consciousness" section of britneyspears.com, "I no longer study Kabbalah, my baby is my religion."
While many are surely hoping that she'll soon be dropping another "K" from her life -- that would be K-Fed, her husband and children's father--it seems that the Kabbalah Centre can drop Britney's name off a possible list of young celebs to help tout their services.
Preparations for this Friday's opening of "The Da Vinci Code" are reaching fever pitch--from eager moviegoers as well as Christians who are angry about the story and its pervasiveness in pop culture. So this begs the question--how should those opposed to "Da Vinci" protest or demonstrate their views?
This New York Times article explains how Christians disagree on which tactics are best. Some argue for boycott, others for protesting in front of theaters. Still others are organizing groups to go see another movie on "Da Vinci's" opening day.
The debate over tactics is even more complicated by the recent riots over Danish cartoons that caricatured the Muslim prophet Muhammad. Some Christian leaders, while certainly not calling for "Da Vinci" riots, are upset that there hasn't been more outrage at what they perceive as the story's insult to Jesus and early Christianity.
Archbishop Angelo Amato, a high-ranking official in the Vatican's doctrinal office, said in late April, "If such lies and errors had been directed at the Koran or the Holocaust they would have justly provoked a world uprising. Instead, if they are directed against the Church and Christians, they remain unpunished."
In this video lesson, Christian author Lee Strobel offers suggestions for how Christians can respond, armed with their faith--as he points out, 70 percent of American churches have said they plan to get involved in the debate.
"The West Wing" will go down in television history as one of the most wonderfully relevant shows and enduring DVD buys, even if its series finale was, dang it, such a bore.
I enjoyed reading Michael Kress’s blog piece about the series, and appreciated the reminder that the finale was coming up. What a shame that it had to be such an anti-climax, but it really had no chance to rank up there with significant series finales such as “Seinfeld,” “Friends,” and “Cheers,” and going even further back, “M*A*S*H*” and “The Carol Burnett Show.” At least when those shows ended, the “Friends” were still friends, most of the “Cheers” characters were still around the bar, and Hawkeye was still Hawkeye. Yes, those shows had transitions as well, but the new characters had become family by the time the show ended. Not so with Alan Alda’s Arnold Vinick and Jimmy Smits’s Matt Santos. They were likeable, but they hadn’t become beloved.
And what of the beloved ones? Well, the recent plotline for "West Wing" was true to the nature of the show, but it didn’t make for a great ending. The difference between the first show (aired immediately prior to the finale) and the last was noticeable, if not dramatic. The eclectic group of young politicos and youthful career wonks that initially surrounded President Bartlett had gone their different directions. Leo passed away. Toby was muted. Sam ran for Congress and ended up at a cushy law firm. Josh lost much of his charm when he went on the road. Will was less interesting when he lost Toby and Sam to banter with. C.J., Charlie, and the Bartletts endured to the end, as did Donna in her new role, but of that group, only C.J. was part of the original group of stars. (Martin Sheen’s Bartlett was barely more than a cameo until the series picked up steam).
The enduring thing about "The West Wing" will be the nature of its themes and topics, and the dialogue which focused on intelligent issues of government, such as laws, policies, departments, little known facts, and current events (especially in its early years). It examined presidential decision-making and policies in almost every show, notably “A Proportional Response,” “The Short List” and “The Lame Duck Congress.” It looked at governmental procedures (“The Stackhouse Filibuster,” “Ways and Means”) and examined the relationship between faith and leadership (“Shibboleth,” “Two Cathedrals”). It took a hard look at some of our more ridiculous but enduring traditions (“The Leadership Breakfast,” “The U.S. Poet Laureate”) and inserted the occasional and artful dose of Latin (“Eppur Si Muove,” “Posse Comitatus,” “Post Hoc, Ergo, Propter Hoc).
I also appreciated President Bartlett's memorization of scripture and his reciting of it in the midst of policy discussions. Such leadership is not--and has never been--a violation of church and state, and was part of the finale, via his discussion with his successor, Pres. Santos, about the tradition of including a Bible quote in the Inaugural speech.
At the end, President Bartlett was looking out the window of the former Air Force One when asked by Mrs. Bartlett what he was thinking about. “Tomorrow,” he said. I wish it would have been, “What’s Next?”
It seems that "7th Heaven" may have nine lives. CNN reported today that the series, which had its much-touted finale last week, may return for an 11th season on the new CW network this fall.
Fans of the show will, no doubt, rejoice if the deal goes through. And Catherine Hicks, the show's matriarch, will continue to ably balance her acting with her advocacy on behalf of Darfur refugees.
Personally, I would welcome an 11th season if only to sort a few things out. First, in the series finale, Matt and Sarah, Kevin and Lucy, and Mary and Carlos all announced they were having twins. I thought, "how sweet--"7th Heaven" ends with the Camdens having 7 grandchildren, with 3 sets of twins plus Savannah!" But what about Carlos and Mary's son Charlie? And are we to understand that Sandy's baby was actually Simon's?
That last point is my second beef. Did Martin give up a promising baseball career for a lie? Did the newly-converted Sandy knowingly deceive Martin? Will Simon jump into marriage again after ending his relationship with Rose?
True, in her Beliefnet interview, Hicks admired the fact that "the show isn't embroidered in a doily." But come on--shouldn't a family series like this leave everything a little more neatly wrapped up? Let's hope it will, in it's triumphant TV return this fall.
Is the mega-bestseller "The Da Vinci Code," a work of fiction, actually influencing the religious beliefs of its readers? Yes, says a new survey released today by pollster George Barna--but not in the way many traditional Christians fear.
The poll found that instead of changing readers' religious beliefs, the book served to confirm the beliefs readers held before they read it. In fact, only 5 percent of the 45 million American adults who have read the novel reported that their religious beliefs changed because of the book's contents. That is a small number, but as Barna points out, "Any book that alters one or more theological views among two million people is not to be dismissed lightly."
Rick Ross--head of the Rick A. Ross Institute for the Study of Destructive Cults, Controversial Groups and Movements--tracks benign as well as malignant para-religious groups on his site Cult News. Ross reports that the influence of nontraditional religion has been fading in Hollywood of late, and asks whether Kabbalah and Scientology don't need new, younger spokespeople to replace Madge and Tom. A good question, especially considering the way Cruise's recent faith-based antics seem to have made the star and his religion mutual liabilities of late. And Ross cites the public rejection of the kabbalistic Red Thread by Madonna's own brother Christopher Ciccone in an interview with London's Daily Mirror last week as evidence that Madonna is no longer the best proselyte for the mystical brand of Judaism. "Anything that's organised can become very cultish," says Ciccone.
But Ross ignores Ciccone's partial endorsement of Kabbalah later in the interview, saying Kabbalah is hurt as much as aided by the celebrity buzz. "It takes something that's actually kind of cool and really useful and makes it appear foolish, stupid, and faddish--and it's not." Ciccone also says Kabbalah is "the same as being Catholic. [You] make it whatever works."
With pooh-poohers like that, who needs publicists?
Meanwhile Scientology doesn't appear to be giving up on Tom Cruise, if you can believe the L.A. Weekly. The muckracking alternative newspaper reports that a theater close to Scientology's L.A. headquarters has been selling tickets to "MI:3" by the baker's dozen, suggesting that group members are attempting to boost Cruise's numbers after a disappointing opening weekend for his new movie.
This week's Boston Legal again took several shots at the George W. Bush administration, especially on the topics of abortion, womens' rights, Bush's random out-of-step-ness with society, and our alleged patriarchal approach to foreign policy.
It got me--a Bush-loving Republican--to thinking about two things:
1. This show doesn't even veil its attempts at taking direct shots at our president every week; and, 2. I really like this show.
How is it that I can tune in week after week to something that is sure to take a direct shot across the bow at the policies of our government? This week it was abortion. Last week it was Tom Delay, corruption, lobbyists, money, and illegial aliens. In other recent weeks, it's been gun control, victims' rights, racial profiling, Bush's serveillance campaign... the list goes one. At some point, the show has blatantly supported just about everything a typical Bible-believing, God-fearing American would stand against: adultery, fornication, homosexuality, polygamy, laziness, and gluttony (and that's really just for starters!)
And then this week, it hit me: I discovered the answer. I know what makes this show so attractive: civility.
"Boston Legal" manages each week to put our nation's political issues--as well as its moral ones--on display in the context of humor we can laugh at, relationships we can empathize with, and civil dialogue we can follow. The dramatic absence of anger and bitterness mixes with the presence of humor and love in a way that could create honest discussions of important matters if we'd let it.
There was a day when I could disagree with you and you could disagree with me and it didn't mean we couldn't like each other, love each other, fight for causes together, go to church together and raise our families together. Today we are so quick to label each other as red or blue, liberal or conservative, Democrat or Republican, Christian or not... except for a few moments each week when we find ourselves in relationships--or viewing a rogue TV show--where agreement isn't a prerequisite for civility.
And the spiritual power of personal responsibility and unconditional love can be released there.
We knew this would happen. Every presidency must end. This Sunday, we'll bid adieu to President Josiah Bartlett, his family, and the aides who worked tirelessly for him these past seven years on "The West Wing."
"The West Wing" was more than just a wonky show that occasionally veered into the absurd--like the president's daughter getting kidnapped--and relentlessly portrayed its characters as honest, hard-working, dedicated, and good-hearted, even when they were playing hardball politics. The series fearlessly shattered sacred cows on both left and right, skewering Republicans and Democrats alike, even as it hewed to a sort of liberalism and idealism that is, sadly, far out of the mainstream these days. It showed us that there's another way to do politics, one that's different from the all-acrimony all-the-time we've become used to. It showed us a liberal Democratic leader comfortable speaking of his inner soul and passionate about his faith, and it reminded us that there are no easy ways or quick answers when it comes to the great moral questions of our time.
When real presidents leave office, there is always--thank God--another one to quickly take their place. Love the new guy or hate him, life and politics continue. Not so for Pres. and Mrs. Bartlett, Josh, Tobi, CJ, Donna, Will, Charlie, and the others, even President-elect Santos, whose fictional world has been canceled by NBC. I'm only half joking when I wish for a president in real life who resembles Pres. Bartlett. I'll miss you.
With only a few episodes left, I suppose that now is as good of a time as any to admit to my current TV-viewing guilty pleasure--"American Inventor." It’s not that I think it is an exciting, well-orchestrated reality show in comparison to the zillion other reality shows on the tube. It’s just that at the end of every episode I am left with this nagging feeling that I have just witnessed a uniquely American reflection on our culture’s attitudes toward faith--in ourselves, in the ideal we call the American Dream, and even faith in God.
The premise of the show, whose producer credits include American Idol’s Simon Cowell, is a typical reality show-style competition designed to find the next great American invention. Contestants demonstrate their inventions for the prerequisite reality show panel of expert judges--each, of course, with his or her distinctive quirks--and hope the judges will vote them through to the next round. Some of the inventions, such as the Sackmaster 2000, which helps fill sandbags quickly in a natural disaster like Hurricane Katrina, were designed truly for the benefit of mankind. Other inventions are designed for educational purposes, like the multicultural doll, Niya, and some inventions, of course, are just plain stupid. In tonight’s back-to-back episodes, the final four inventors will take the prototypes of their inventions to the American public, so we--the American public--can call in and decide who will win the million-dollar grand prize.
What makes this series such a mesmerizing train wreck--one which is uplifting one moment and horrifying the next--are the back stories of the inventors themselves. The sacrifices these people have made are astounding, and in some cases, possibly a little insane. Yes, some of these competitors are an inspiration because of the risks they have taken to achieve something significant, but many other competitors, no matter how good their intentions, provide a cautionary tale about the dangers of putting your faith only in the material, the tangible, or the self-serving instead of having faith in something greater than ourselves. (In one instance, a man told the judges he donated a kidney so he would have good karma going into the competition).
But the real reason I will be watching tonight's episodes is that in spite of the more outrageous aspects of this show, I find that "American Inventor" challenges me spiritually in an unexpected way. While I consider myself a big dreamer, I am not exactly a huge risk-taker, and this show makes me think about where in my life I spiritually can walk a little more by faith--just not solely in my own strength.
For the group we might call "Graham Green Catholics," the flap generated by the upcoming release of "The Da Vinci Code" is another arrow in the side. The Catholic intellectual of the 20th century saw culture and art as another province of faith, where the mystery of suffering was explored through subjects like sex, death, and politics. The Catholic thinker and writer's profile was one of faithful but world-weary engagement. Moral certainty was the downfall of characters like Pyle, the idealistic and probably Protestant CIA operative set loose in pre-war (Vietnam War) Saigon in Greene's novel "The Quiet American."
Now, with the CIA on its heels, Dan Brown has fashioned Opus Dei, the Catholic Church's secretive, exclusive society, as a stand-in, and Opus Dei, nonsensically, has played along. I'm not comparing Brown to Greene, nor "The Da Vinci Code" in book or movie form to any of the British writer's masterpieces of moral torment. But Opus Dei's demand that director Ron Howard insert a disclaimer disavowing the accuracy of the movie's depiction of the group smacks more of the arrogant and overachieving Pyle than any postulant. (And even at that, Pyle's CIA never dignified Hollywood's many slings and arrows by demanding disclaimers that they were in fact a bunch of family guys.) The Vatican itself, meanwhile, has called for boycotts, calling the film "a slander."
That leaves Protestants to articulate Christianity's forebearance. When Sony Pictures set up "The DaVinci Challenge," a website that invited Christians to use the movie as a teaching moment, the Protestant biggies who signed on, including Richard Mouw, Darrell Bock and George Barna, far outnumbered the Catholic defenders of the faith. For Graham Greene Catholics, the world is a wearier place.
It has been evident for a while that John Locke is no longer the only man of faith stranded on the mysterious island that the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815 have inhabited for the first two seasons of ABC's "Lost." With the appearance this fall of Mr. Eko, a passenger from the back of the plane who stayed silent during the first 40 days and nights after the crash, it was obvious Mr. Eko would, at some point, give Locke a run for his money in this category.
Last night's episode may have been a turning point for these two, with Ecco eclipsing Locke in his role as the island's spiritual locus.
Prophetic dreams and leaps of faith abounded, as Eko convinced Locke to join forces with him in a kind of island scavenger hunt, spurred on by Eko's visionary encounter with his dead priest-brother, who urged him to follow the question mark. With Locke's help, the dreams and visions led them back to the downed airplane that carried the body of Eko's brother to its final resting place--the island--and to the fact that below the plane has yet another mysterious hatch. While it's unveiling caused quite a crisis of faith for Locke, it did the opposite for Eko--it inspired newfound religious fervor in this church-building, newly ministerial member of the survivors. Locke found himself on new ground--as someone in need of spiritual leadership, looking to Eko for guidance, rather than the other way around.
Whether or not faith leadership will stay in the hands of Eko in future episodes remains to be seen.
The WB dramedy “Gilmore Girls,” the one TV show I am truly, freakishly obsessed with, had its season finale last night, and while the episode itself was a bit of a disappointment at the end of a somewhat lackluster season, I was aware as I watched it that this was also the end of life in the fictional town of Stars Hollow as Gilmore fans have known it. No, “Gilmore Girls” hasn’t been cancelled--it is scheduled to go over to the new UPN/WB hybrid network The CW--but the creative forces behind the show, series creators and executive producers Amy Sherman-Palladino and her husband Daniel Palladino, recently announced that due to contract disputes with network executives, they will not return to helm the seventh and, most likely, final season of the show. It seems the Palladinos wanted more money, as well as the possibility of a longer contract and other perks, in order to stick around another year.
Like other genius producer/directors such as Aaron Sorkin (“The West Wing”), the Palladinos wrote most of the “Gilmore” episodes themselves, so they are responsible for giving the show its trademark eccentric charm. I have no doubt that when the Palladinos leave, Lorelai and Rory Gilmore, perhaps the most famous mother-daughter TV duo in recent memory, will be left without their witty banter and endless pop culture references, which only the uber-hip could understand. I also can’t imagine how anyone else will come up with such lavish plot devices as the Festival of Living Portraits or the Edgar Allan Poe club. But most of all, I fear the nuanced complexity of family relationships will be forever absent from those infamous Friday night Gillmore dinners.
So it was with sadness that I watched Lorelai make the wrong decision, again, by giving her fiance, diner-owner Luke, an ultimatum about marriage that ended with her running off and sleeping with former flame Christopher, again. Sad not only because I was left worrying about the fate of Luke and Lorelai’s future one more time, but because greed and hubris seem to have gotten in the way of good storytelling in Hollywood--as usual--leaving loyal viewers to suffer the consequences. Yes, I’ll keep watching the show, but only because any “Gilmore” is better than no “Gilmore”--in my world, anyway.
Yes, I have already blogged--and recently--about Fox’s medical drama, House, which week after week seems to find some new, thought-provoking way to tackle spirituality. But I can’t help but rave one more time about this show's smart writing that intertwines faith and doubt into the complex storylines in subtle yet powerful ways.
In last night’s episode, not one, but two, of Gregory House’s co-workers reconnected--even if only briefly in one instance--with faith in a higher power. Building off of last week’s episode, in which Dr. Foreman almost died after contracting a dangerous virus from a patient he was treating along with House, Foreman now is suddenly filled with peace and gratitude because his life has been miraculously spared. (Foreman’s father had kept a fervent prayer vigil as his son underwent life threatening surgery.) Because he has been given a second chance at life, Foreman is now so kind to his co-workers that he becomes annoying--not only to House, who has grudging respect for the way Foreman has dealt with House’s unorthodox ways in the past--but also to the soft-spoken Dr. Cameron. The best line of the night belonged to Cameron, who has had her own issues with Foreman in the past, as she tells him, “Insisting every day is a blessing from God makes everyone else look shallow.” Really? Sounds like faith clashing with doubt--or cynicism, at least--one more time.
But it is not only Foreman who embraces God in a moment of crisis. The greedy, narcissistic playboy of the bunch, Dr. Chase, who had tried to save a mother and her baby, but failed, stands over the lifeless body of the baby and begins to quietly pray for the baby’s soul to be released to heaven. Unlike Foreman, no one is aroud to see the change in Chase, as he cries out to God, hoping desparately God will answer.
And that is where this series truly reflects the authenticity of these characters’ various spiritual journeys. We do not know whose spiritual encounter will truly take root in his soul and grow, and who will quickly forget his moment of spiritual insight and return to his former ways. Will Foreman go back to his old ways and will Chase be the one to change (and would anyone take him seriously if he did)? “House” viewers know anything is possible, but nothing is certain with this group of misfits, which is why we always stay tuned.
(P.S.: And if you “House” fans want to read an insider’s take on the show, you might want to check out the blog of one of the writers by going here.)
Recently a reader wrote into the Chicagoist asking about an ominous billboard she came across during a commute: "The billboard just east of the Clybourn metra stop," writes Nancy, "says, '6+6+06 the signs are all around you" on a black billboard in white font. No links to any websites or companies or anything... can you guys get to the bottom of this?"
As it turns out, the crack team at the Chicagoist was able to get the the bottom of the mystery.
It's not just your typical pre/post-millennialist propoganda, but movie marketing magic. You see June 6, 2006, is the release date for the remake of the classic horror film "The Omen," starring Gregory Peck. The anti-Christ, Damien, is switched with the murdered son of American diplomats and wreaks havoc on those around him.
But, is this marketing campaign as misguided as the recent "Mission Impossible: III" campaign wherein faux bombs were placed in newspaper dispensers? As the Chicagoist points out "We're not completely sure if marketing campaigns without the actual name of the product are ever too effective, but we suppose it got us writing about it, so maybe they rely on people who are intrigued enough to want to solve the mystery."
Other sites are full-throated arguments from a number of different Christian perspectives. The Christian magazine Planet Envoy has a long and lively de-bunking, plus an online discussion forum so you can get into the fray. Westminster Theological Seminary sponsors this website, which is replete with resources, study guides, and discussions.
The conservative evangelical group Focus on the Family has its own rebuttal site. Also, the Mission America Coalition offers online Da Vinci Code audio conferences, where pastors can consult with evangelical theologians on how to respond to the movie in their own communities.
And of course, closer to home in the story itself, the Catholic group Opus Dei has published its official response to the movie. The U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops has its own Da Vinci rebuttal site, JesusDecoded.com.
Last but certainly not least, don't forget to explore Beliefnet's own extensive coverage of all things Da Vinci, including the full spectrum of opinions.
What is it about girls who save the world (or at least their small towns and high schools) and lackluster love lives? High school detective Veronica Mars has never wanted for admirers of the boy variety, but no matter which one she opts for, heartbreak seems close around the bend. Veronica seems doomed in the dating department, whether it's Duncan Kane, who took his baby (not Veronica's) and ran from the law to Mexico, effectively ending their romance before it had much chance to begin, or bad-boy, rich-kid Logan Echolls, who waxed eloquent (and drunkenly) about a love for Veronica that's "epic" two episodes back--only to then sleep with evil Kendall Casablancas moments later.
The worst part is, somehow the show has me rooting for a Veronica-Logan reunion. Why? Because its writers have offered no interesting boy alternatives, and seem recently to be trying to redeem Logan's character enough to re-ignite the tension that turned Veronica and Logan into star-crossed lovers (well--not lovers, but close) last year. As the season comes to a close this evening, I'm wondering if Veronica will be left with more than the satisfaction of the bus-crash mystery resolved, or if the Veronica-Logan redemption project will be dropped cold until season three.
Not to harp on the Buffy Summers comparison again, but, alas, I will, as with my earlier post, "Veronica Mars": It's No "Buffy"--At Least Not Yet. As I watch Veronica's love life fall flat again and again, I can't help be reminded of Buffy's constant struggle to fulfill her role as "The Chosen One"--saving the world against vampires, demons, and apocalyptic plots--while at the same time trying somehow to manage a relationship. It never really happened for Buffy. Yet again, the difference between Veronica and Buffy in both vocation and love is similar: While Veronica's best options are slick-talking but generally vapid spoiled high school boys, Buffy's suitors had big hearts, a good dash of romantic sensibility, a desire to make the world a better place, and the knowledge that Buffy was worth whatever hardships a relationship with a Vampire Slayer might entail. Granted, they may have been vampires (most of them), but they still had souls.
Logan Echolls on the other hand--human definitely. Soulful, not so much.
The story for last night's "Sopranos" episode, "The Ride" (number eight in a season of only twelve--the countdown until the end begins already) was set against the backdrop of the Feast of St. Elzear--which any New Yorker would recognize as an adapted version of the Festival of San Gennaro, where I'm guessing they filmed the episode. The annual festival of San Gennaro on Mulberry Street, in the heart of New York City's Little Italy, is held each year in September over a span of 11 days-- including September 19th, when a religious procession led by the statue of this Patron Saint of Naples (the statue itself is removed from the Most Precious Blood Church on Mulberry Street, the National Shrine of San Gennaro). Last night's "Sopranos" included the familiar red, white, and green lit archways over the street and various street vendors for all things edible-Italian, as well as other famous marks of the popular celebration, such as a cannoli-eating contest.
Most interesting of all about last night's storyline for the Festival of St. Elzear was that it related to Paulie--the only character apart from Tony who is prone to religious visions and superstitions. The festival is Paulie's responsibility as far as mob business is concerned. After a dispute with the parish priest about a golden hat that the statue is supposed to wear on its head during the festival, Paulie allows the saint procession to go forward without the traditional accoutrement. This causes great dismay among the crowds and a good deal of superstition about potential--and some realized--bad luck, which hangs over this year's festival and Paulie's sense of guilt and responsibility.
Is God punishing Paulie? This seems to be what Paulie is wondering. After the festival begins and he winds his way through the street vendors and rides, he learns he might have cancer; a ride breaks and children are hurt (and he gets called for the blame); and the aunt who raised him is left in tears after heartless comments by the little mobster with the grey-haired wings.
The show ends with a mysterious and brief vision of the Virgin Mary by Paulie in, of all places, The Bing. Paulie, haunted and guilt-ridden, retreats to his aunt's home, for some forgiveness--at least on a human level. Divine forgiveness for this mobster seems to be another issue altogether, and whether he gets it remains to be seen.
One of Beliefnet’s news stories this weekened was about Emily Saliers, a lesbian who is one-half of the singing group The Indigo Girls. She was invited to be a speaker at the United Methodist Women's Assembly this past weekend in Anaheim, Calif.
I think the most important issue isn’t about homosexuality, celebrity, culture, religion, or Methodists. I think it’s about how many of us strongly believe in something like “love the sinner, hate the sin,” as our expression of Christian love. As a phrase, it summarizes the kind of love Jesus expressed and modeled as well as what many of us long to humbly and non-judgmentally live out in our own lives. The problem is that we also must form associations, contracts, commitments, governances, companies, and other entities that must draw real boundaries and stand for real convictions.
There are a significant number of women in the United Methodist Church who were glad she was on the speaking program because they believe the church should be more open and inclusive regarding the homosexual lifestyle. There are also many in the denomination who believe homosexuality should not be condoned in any way by the church and wanted her disinvited. There are still others who don’t have a strong opinion either way as much as they don’t think this kind of controversy is what the annual renewal conference is supposed to be about. Still others love the media attention it has drawn to the event because this is obviously a current and debated issue in the church.
The question of homosexuality and the church’s treatment of both the issue and the people struggling with it is certainly a significant one. Inclusiveness is a value, as is church interpretation of doctrinal purity, which on this issue says the practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching. The church also stands strong in its commitment to “social witness against the coercion and marginalization of former homosexuals.”
I think it’s easier said than done, as is most anything that is truly spiritual.
Just before going to see Mission: Impossible III, I caught glimpses of the teaser trailers for both Superman and Casino Royale (the newest 007 sequel). That turned out to be a good thing, since these trailers gave me something to think—and blog—about coming out of M:I:3, which itself doesn’t say much.
But its genre does.
If you like summer eye candy, visualgasm, and plot twists that go beyond even “24’s” obnoxiousness, then M:I:3 satisfies. But I think the real story is in how many, many, many people in our culture are satisfied by a movie like this. Cynics may say it’s because we’re a dialed-down, decadent and dispassionate society contented by fantasy and escape. Even our “reality-TV” shows aren’t much like a reality anybody actually lives. But all of us have within us a God-given sense of what justice is and a God-shaped hole in us that desires a savior. Or at least a hero.
It follows then that if the churches and religions (and religious people) don’t do much for us, we’ll end up reaching out to the characters that bring and fulfill that sense of justice and worldfix we each have within us. Ethan Hawke. Jack Bauer. Jason Bourne. Lara Croft. James Bond. Superman. Batman. The Tuhminatuh. Go back to Luke Skywalker and Han Solo. They’re heroes. They bring justice. They put the world back the way it is supposed to be. It’s a great story. It’s a mirror of The Greatest Story, which much of Christendom celebrated a few weeks ago.
But hero flicks like M:I:3 bring heroism and justice-hunting to light (and sound) in a more visually appealing way with more attractive stars than a church does, even if the depth of the message is a comparative drop in the bucket. This Sunday I’ll be at my church hearing about the Real Savior, who’s authentic heroic acts rescued all of us for all time. And if its gets boring, I’ll remember that the pastor and the music team don’t have the $100-million-plus budget of M:I:3, but the message will be closer to what will bring real justice in the world and contentment in my spiritual life than the hole left when M:I:3 wears off and planning for its next sequel begins.
Just how many movies can Hollywood make about spelling bees as a cinematic metaphor for overcoming the odds? It is easy to dismiss the latest film about the importence of speling wordz corectly, “Akeelah and the Bee,"--expanding to nationwide release this weekend--as nothing more than a sentimental copycat of the documentary “Spellbound” or a rip-off the more recent movie, “Bee Season.” But the story of Akeelah Anderson, a fiesty 11-year-old girl from south Los Angeles with a gift for words, has more than enough to inspire--in spite of the movie's slight feeling of famililarity.
Addicted to Scrabble but afraid to let her peers at school see how smart she is, Akeelah reluctantly enters the school spelling bee with the encouragement and manipulation of her principal. Her single mother Tanya (Angela Bassett) isn’t too thrilled, but along comes the perequisite mentor, which all underdog stories need in the character of no-nonsense Dr. Larabee (Laurence Fishburne). Before you can spell antidisenstablishmentarianism, Akeelah's love of letters earns her an opportunity to compete for a spot in the Scripps National Spelling Bee. Yes, as these kinds of stories go, "Akeelah" is not just about winning a contest. More importantly, the girl makes new friends, learns some life lessons in courage and determination, and helps her mother begin to heal from the loss of Akeelah’s father.
Humorous and sassy one moment and tender and heartwarming the next, what sets “Akelelah” apart is the way this movie uses academics, not sports, as a uniting force in a poor community where many people have given up on succeeding in life. It's not an NBA contract that is held up as a symbol of a better life, but the power of knowledge and how to use it correctly.
“Akeelah” also contains something we rarely see on film, a positive portrayal of a young girl of an ethnic minority as the center of a story. The message of "Akeelah" is not only about an underdog beating the odds; Akeelah represents a generation of girls who need a voice and an image that gives them hope for a brighter future. "Akeelah" gently reminds all of us that we are part of the community-at-large that can inspire the next generation of girls (and boys) to hope, dream and achieve through the power of their spirits... and their words.
Some of you may recall meeting Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje as the fierce, wild-eyed henchmen devoted to the resurrected Imhotep in "The Mummy Returns." And though he played a convincing devotee of the evil ancient Egyptian High Priest, it's his most recent role as "Lost"'s Mr. Eko, the African druglord turned "priest," that has audiences devoted to him.
In fact, after being so taken with Mr. Eko's recitation of the 23rd Psalm on one of this season's espisodes, Hawaiian Senator Fred Hemmings asked him to repeat the perfomance as the daily prayer before the state Senate. So, it's rather interesting that this actor who can imbody a Christian pastor so believeably is actually a Buddhist. Akinnuoye-Agbaje recently told the TVGuide Channel that it's challenging playing a priest since he has to espouse doctrines and teachings that are not always in agreement with his own.
"I was intrigued to play that spiritual element. It was something that really interested me because I'm a Buddhist by nature. And I thought it interesting for me to play a priest, being a Buddhist. You know, because it would challenge my own faith, and hopefully deepen it, and at the same time give me a greater understanding of other people's [spirituality]," he explained in more detail to the Philadelphia Daily News.
At the same time Akinnuoye-Agbaje should find comfort being on a show which seems to incorporate many Buddhist concepts, unlike his stint in "Oz" as the ultraviolent inmate Adebisi or his role as Majestic in the 50 Cent story "Get Rich or Die Tryin,'" for which "he [chanted] more than usual while playing the brutal character," according to IMDB.com.
That was the provocative question debated at a panel discussion I attended as part of the Tribeca Film Festival here in New York. On the panel were four Hollywood insiders who are also Christian: the actor Cuba Gooding Jr., the producer Ralph Winter ("X-Men"), Micheal Flaherty from Walden Media (producers of "The Chronicles of Narnia"), and Jonathan Bock, head of Grace Hill Media, a PR firm that markets mainstream movies to Christian audiences.
With an occasional "Hallelujah!" from Gooding, the panelists discussed whether Hollywood has seen the light as far as making movies of interest to Christian audiences--and whether Jesus would make dark, edgy art-house films or happy family-friendly blockbusters. Looming over the discussion were three films that the panelists invoked repeatedly: One box-office failure ("The Last Temptation of Christ"), one success ("The Passion of the Christ"), and one not-yet-released ("Da Vinci Code," as if I needed to tell you that).
On the first: "I so laugh at Hollywood," Gooding said. "'The Passion of the Christ' made a hell of a lot of money--no pun intended--and now everyone is scurrying to have the next faith-based project that goes through the roof. The audience has been there for years."
On the second: "I think 'The Last Temptation of Christ''s biggest sin was that it was boring," Bock said. "The movie has to be good. It has to be a good story, it has to be good acting, it has to be good directing, it has to be good marketing."
And on the third: "I think what they [churches] have come to believe is, if the whole world wants to talk about Jesus, then let's be ready to have a conversation about Jesus," Bock said. "When is the next time in pop-culture that people are going to care what really happened at the Council of Nicea?"
What emerged from all this was a consensus that, post-"Passion," Hollywood realizes there's a major underserved Christian audience out there. And they want those bucks. They're just not sure how to go about doing that.
"One of the mistakes people make is they think that they can just throw in a church scene here, throw in a bit of scripture here," Flaherty said. "They're losing the point, that it's all about great stories. If it doesn't exist in the DNA of the story, you can't just dab it on like makeup."
But slowly, the panelists said, Hollywood is starting to focus more on the Christian market. Bock compared it to the African-American market 30 years ago: Starting with small-budget "blaxploitation" films that pulled in big bucks, studios continued to make more and bigger films geared toward African-American audiences.
Bock predicted that we'll see that same trend in the Christian world--a phenomenon he dubbed "Godsploitation." One test, he added, will be New Line's "Nativity," scheduled for a December release, which dramatizes Mary and Joseph's lives in the year leading up to Jesus' birth.
That's all well and good, but the pressing question remains: What would Jesus direct?
Winter had the most specific answer: The parables, specifically, the Prodigal Son. "The story is a little dark. At the end, the older brother and the dad have some serious family therapy to go through," he said. "Sometimes Christians want to go after movies that have happy endings, no darkness,
so subtext, no fun. So I wonder if Jesus wouldn't be directing an R-rated art film that might be playing at this festival."
Bock thought Jesus' films would be much more "populist" than that: "I think it would be funny, it would be poignant, it would be commercially successful."
The real questions I was left with: Would any major studio greenlight a project from a Hollywood unknown like Jesus? And has he gotten any bankable stars attached to his project yet?
I've decided that Wednesday is ABC's "Must-See-TV" night, with "Alias," "Lost," and "Invasion" taking up a mystery/sci-fi three-hour block, and it's difficult to pick which show to write about. "Invasion" was all about fate, and "Lost" was all about betrayal (in a major way), but I'll go with "Alias" this week. The show has finally, fully brought its storyline back to where it all began, Rimbaldi, the fictional apocalyptic philosopher who's been dead for five centuries who is the focus of Arvin Sloane's bad-guy obsession.
Now that Sidney is doubled (and who can wait for that meet & greet?), the show has returned its focus to "The Prophecy," and P. 47, the mysterious page of a Rimbaldi manuscript that contains a drawing with a stikingly similar depiction of Sydney Bristow. The page itself predicts that "The Chosen One"--after a great struggle between her and a nemesis (who we've all thought until now was Nadia, Sydney's sister)--the woman portrayed will fulfill the following prophecy:
"This woman here depicted will possess unseen marks. Signs that she will be the one to bring forth my works. Bind them with fury. A burning anger, unless prevented. At vulgar cost, this woman will render the greatest power unto utter desolation."
There's little question that Sydney is somehow linked with this power to bring about utter desolation, but after last night's episdoe, I wonder if it is Sloane who is to help her fulfill this destiny?
In a particularly torn and tragic moment after Sloane has spent an entire year trying to cure his beloved, long lost daughter from a disease of his own Rimbaldi-related making, the culmination of last night's episode was a reunion and forgiveness secene between Nadia and her father. Yet after years of Sloane's bad-boy ambiguity--has he turned good? is he still bad?--he simply had to return to his true, ruthless, Rimbaldi-obsessed ways. Nadia, dismayed to find P. 47 hidden in Sloane's desk, confronts her father, saying that he must choose between her and Rimbaldi. She holds P. 47 precariously over the flames in the fireplace. Sloane, desperate to salvage both P. 47 and his father-daughter relationship, begs Nadia not to ask him to choose "between family and his faith."
Rimbaldi, apparently, is Sloane's religion. And last night, Nadia played the role of sacrificial lamb. Sloane's "faith" not only costs Nadia her life, but her death becomes the catalyst that fully resurrects Sloane's utter devotion to his god, Rimbaldi.
Picture yourself in one of the trendiest Manhattan restaurants. Fruity cocktails in deep martini glasses rest in many a manicured hand. Fashion is top-notch; this is New York after all. It’s dark, very dark. The lights are so dim that you can barely make eyes at that person across the room. Yet, many rise to the challenge (why else would you spend $12 for a drink?). You’re mid-flirt, cocktail in hand, you look up and what do you see? A giant Buddha statue--reaching from floor-to-ceiling--set back deep in the dining room, to watch over all the young socialites.
Such is the scene at Tao, a famed Manhattan restaurant (which some of you may know from its cameo as the location of the speed-dating scene in the movie "Hitch").
On my first excursion there last night, I sat, like many others, sipping my Tao-tini and observing the action. It occurred to me that this kind of scene is exactly what the Buddha teaches his followers to stay away from; according to Buddhism, desire must be controlled. One of the mindfulness teachings for lay people is to give up alcohol. Monks and nuns take it further abstaining from alcohol and sex. I have some questions on this matter.
So what is the Buddha doing at Tao, watching people get drunk and meet each other? Was the restaurant sensitive to religion when creating its theme and designing the meditating, full-bellied Buddha? How would Americans respond to a Jesus-themed restaurant where all sorts of un-Christian activities took place? Americans, and particularly New Yorkers, fetishize the East so much that we don't even notice the religious symbol just past the tip of our martini, and don't care that we're disrespecting it continuously there.
But instead of ranting on the subject last night (I saved that for today), I took the Buddha’s advice--paused, breathed, and briefly locked eyes with a suit across the room...
posted by Alana B. Elias Kornfeld @ 12:13 PM | Permalink |
Just the other night my husband and I were discussing some world event in which Muslims came out looking bad, and we agreed on the totally obvious fact that the worldview about Islam had profoundly and irrevocably changed since 9/11. But, my husband said, “In the eight years that I’ve been in this country, I’ve never felt singled out or have been harassed.”
I echoed that sentiment. I was born here, and raised in the Midwest, where for the longest time we were the only Muslim family around. Then my life took a 180-degree turn, when I married and moved to New York, which is where we were on 9/11. Still, in the midst of all that awfulness, I felt that Islam had been hijacked, but all Muslims hadn’t.
Even when I started wearing the hijaab (headscarf) last year, I felt okay. Heck, it takes a lot to make New Yorkers turn their heads and look at you. And now, living in Virginia, on the footsteps of Bible country, being an obvious Muslim is quite all right.
But as I sat in a movie theater on a Tuesday afternoon and endured “United 93,” for the first time I wanted to hide my Muslim-ness. I went to see how director Paul Greengrass portrayed the characters of the terrorists. Of course there’s nothing remotely decent that can be said about the cowards. But I wanted to see how their faith was shown in the movie.
Based on more than two dozen phone calls from passengers on the doomed flight, about 30 minutes of flight recorder data, and meticulous research into what passed between the FAA and the military on that fateful day, Greengrass paints as accurate a portrait as one can without knowing for sure what happened on United 93. And that’s probably what freaked me out.
Who knows for sure what those terrorists said or did on that flight, or how they wrongly invoked their faith to fire themselves up for their suicide mission? Greengrass has them saying "Allah Akbar" (God is great) and the Shahada (the statement of faith recited by converts, and which we are taught to say when facing death). Though it burned me to hear them say that--to hear these terrorists invoke those holy words as they went about their sacrilegious task--I agree that that was probably what they were saying.
What hurt me most was the opening scene of the film, which showed the leader of the United 93 cell reading the Qur’an, and showed the other terrorists praying. Maybe they indeed did this. They looked devout, so certain that God wanted them to do this, that being Muslim meant embarking on this horrific jihad. But that is so not the case. In the five years past, this point has been hammered home: Islam is not a religion of terror, jihad is not about suicide missions and targeting innocents, and a small group of unhinged terrorists do not represent the world’s Muslim community.
But the film’s representation of the terrorists, especially that first scene, just opened up all those old wounds. Greengrass said he specifically included that scene to show how Islam was hijacked by the terrorists. But for that to work, the movie-going public must differentiate between extremists who grossly misuse the religion and the rest of the Muslim community, who read the same Qur'an and pray the same prayers, and yet live a peaceful life.
I'm not saying that Greengrass shouldn't have shown the terrorists doing their religious activities. And I realize that depicting more of the terrorists' background--say, drinking and visiting strip-club, which we know they did--would take away from the movie's focus on the United 93 passengers. I guess I'm just really scared that viewers won't realize that in acting religious, the terrorists had indeed hijacked Islam.
After w
atching a National Geographic program about the terrorists last summer, which explored their un-Islamic behavior prior to Sept. 11, I said to my husband, “What kind of Muslims are these?” He replied to me, “That’s the thing—they aren’t Muslim. No matter what they say, they aren’t Muslim.”
And that’s what I want to remind all those who see this film. Maybe these guys did read the Qur’an. Maybe they did act “holier than thou” in the last moments. But they were bad--the faith is not. See the film and remember the sacrifices of the day. But don’t forget what post-9/11 has taught us about faith, the faith of Muslims, the faith of Americans, the faith we all share.
I’m a Bruce Springsteen fan who’s had some fine spiritual reflections—and many moments of enjoyment—courtesy of Bruce’s music and writing. Usually it happens when the E-Street band is behind him, so I wasn’t necessarily excited about his new CD, "We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions," a solo covering of old folk tunes with some friends and musicians gathered in a living room as background.
But this CD surprises me in its aesthetics as well as its content. This is music from a time when songs were about the music rather than the music business. Over the next week or so, you’ll see Bruce doing several TV appearances to promote the homespun flavor of the Pete Seeger folk-song-inspired project, but it’s not just branding or hype. The disc cover reminds me of the faded varnish of a country barn, but the songs are a famous rocker’s fresh tinkering and fresh spin on everything from campfire tale to gospel standard, from mythic yarn to minstrel song.
My favorite is the deep sound and anti-war lyrics of “Mrs. McGrath,” which includes a gentle nudge for Pres. Bush about our current war. (Though in reported comments the past few days, Springsteen has gone far beyond a gentle nudge, sharply criticizing the president for the government's response to Hurricane Katrina.) I also liked “Pay Me My Money Down,” which is about the haves and have-nots, but updated to include Mr. Gates, the current “captain.” Least impressive is the title track, a cover of “We Shall Overcome,” which, unlike the rest, is more pretty than gritty.
This is music written during a time when everyone was invited to sing, play, dance, and hum along. When I was a kid, even the guy with the juice-harp could be a star. It was about the meaning and the message more than the look or whether it would sell. In that way, this is honest music that should inspire good listening and meaningful reflection, and which also can spur more of us on to make songs of our own.
The intent of "The Seeger Sessions" is reminiscent of the "Nebraska" album, or Springsteen's tribute to Harry Chapin, when he sang "Remember When The Music." Bruce says he made this record in just three days. I think that even he still longs for the day when it’s just a bunch of friends with a pick or a washboard making music that sends a message while creating some enjoyment—and perhaps a moment’s respite—in the process.
The Church of England has a surfeit of organs, but the ranks of organists to play them on Sunday morning is thinning. The dilemma has led to the runaway success of the HT 300 Hymnal-Plus, a machine that can play 2,700 Christian favorites on a computer sound system at the touch of a remote button. Hymns can be played in a variety of styles, from the somnolently traditional to electronic-meets-guitar-mass (listen here), and including a disco version of “Amazing Grace."
The machine even allows the option of showing the lyrics, karaoke style, on a screen. Hymn Technology, Ltd. says it has sold more than 100 of the devices since it introduced its latest model six months ago. But British organists shouldn’t worry for their jobs: "We have no wish to make organists redundant and we greatly appreciate them, " says one vicar. "But this might enable them to go away on the odd Sunday.”
Next week, Queen Rania of Jordan puts on her P.R. hat at a Metropolitan Museum of Art dinner (whose roster of attendees includes Barbara Walters and Katie Couric, among other Hollywood and political VIPs). Her goal: to promote better understanding between Arabs and Americans via two Pixar-style 3-D animated boys named "Ben and Izzy." The show, about an American boy named Ben and a Jordanian boy named Izzy has gotten a good deal of royal support, garnering the attention of not only Queen Rania, but her husband, King Abdullah II, who is a member of the show's creative team, which is led by David Pritchard, a "Simpsons" producer (which is as close to cartoon royalty as you can get in the U.S.).
Networks have yet to agree to air the show, but the Cartoon Network, Discovery Kids, and PBS have all received pitches. So what about substance?
The creators say they have taken that dictum to heart, providing Benjamin Martin (the American, whose grandfather, like Izzy's, is an archeologist) and Izzy Aziz (born in Jordan, his full given name is Issam) all manner of raucous adventures. Traveling back through moments in history, they are to be accompanied by a genie named Yasmine and one step ahead of an evil, obese antiquities dealer named Clutchford Wells.
So is it just a bunch of gimmicks and laughs?
The real goal of "Ben and Izzy" is more serious: to help young Americans and Arabs steer clear of the prejudices of their parents and grandparents, which may have been reinforced by the Sept. 11 attacks and the war in Iraq. In promotional materials, Ben the American is described as "a symbol for his country" who is "big" and "energetic," but "on the negative side, he is a bit xenophobic, self-centered, needs-to-win competitive."
"Like his native land," the creators write, "he sometimes blunders into situations without thinking." Izzy the Jordanian, by contrast, is "slight of build, sinewy and studious," but "on the downside, Izzy can be a little too serious, self-righteous, superior, even devious."
Sounds pretty groundbreaking for a cartoon coming at a time when kids--both American and Arab--can use a bit of fun and can benefit from role models of what much of our country and the Arab world is struggling so hard with these days: friendship.
No, I can't help myself: This is my third blog posting about HBO's "Big Love," which aired its seventh episode last night. In "For the Wives, "Big Love" Falls Short on Love & Respect" and "HBO's "Big Love"--And Why I'm Longing for TV's Next Buffy," I've critiqued the show for its disturbing... support? appreciation?... of polygamy, a marital and familial system that subordinates women no matter how gorgeous, gregarious, and self-righteous they are.
My reason for yet another post? A thoughtful analysis of all the things that make me simmer by Slate writer William Saletan entitled: "Big or Me: What Big Love teaches about marriage and jealousy." Saletan concludes (like me), that this "on-air experiment" in which "talented writers and actors are trying to make plausible the idea that American women raised in an age of sexual egalitarianism are bighearted enough to share a husband" is simply not working.
Saletan explains:
"Big Love" tries to get beyond this model [of hierarchy between wives], but escaping hierarchy proves impossible. Unless you marry all your wives in one ceremony, they're in chronological order. Sexually, the most powerful wife is the last one, since she's young enough to have kids (which is a big reason why she married you), whereas your previous wives, like you, have aged. But the first wife, like the first-born son, carries the authority. Some of this primacy is caused by monogamy laws: Only the first wife can be legal. But most of it is forced by everyday logistics.
But hierarchy isn't the only source of tension, notes Saletan. There are the problems of jealousy (both sexual and in terms of time spent with each partner), spontaneity (which is difficult to have when everything is so scheduled), and pettiness--the daily arguments about little things that mask a larger unhappiness felt by the entire family.
Most observant of all his points, Saletan writes of the "hollow pretense of bigheartedness" by the show overall--that somehow Bill has enough love to go around for his three wives, and if he falls short, they can support each other--a la Leah, Rebecca, Zilpah, and Bilhah of "The Red Tent" fame (and Genesis of course). Saletan concludes his article with an example of Barb (wife #1) as she tries--unsuccessfully--to put a positive spin on the haunting sadness that sits within them all:
And what has polygamy given [Barb] to make up for what it took away? She gropes for an answer but can't find one. Plural marriage requires sacrifice, she tells Margie, fumbling for words and looking away as she fights back tears. "We have to stick with it, no matter how lonely it can be, because there isn't anything else that can bring us these rewards. This is, um, this is it." Yes, it is. How sad.
Most docudramas, miniseries, and movies “inspired by actual events” are too long, too dramatic, and stray too far from the facts. “United 93” isn’t one of them, and I must disagree with my colleague, Michael, who wrote that he didn't see what anyone would get from seeing this movie. I think everyone should see it. And take your teenagers if you can.
Don’t go see it for enjoyment, because it is too gritty to be called entertainment. But too many kids--as well as overgrown kids--don't get anywhere close to the real events when they watch the typical movie that claims to be "inspired by actual events."
“United 93” obviously didn’t have the happy ending of "Thirteen Days” or “Apollo 13.” It didn’t have forced romance to soften the blow, like “Titanic” or “Pearl Harbor.” It hits us more personally than “Hotel Rwanda,” “U-571,” or “K-19: The Widowmaker,” because it chronicles a recent American tragedy, which strikes us at our core. It hurts deeper than some other realist flicks such as “Black Hawk Down” or “Saving Private Ryan,” because 9-11 is more current and real for many of us.
But sooner or later, Americans are going to have to develop a strategy for producing the same depth of conviction that once caused our forefathers to commit treason against the King to start a new country, which we're all now blessed to live in. The passengers on United 93 can teach us much about that.
One small controversy about this film may be the altering of the last slide of the ending credits, changed from “America’s war on terror had begun” to a dedication to the memory of the passengers and crew. I liked the former title, not simply because of the politics involved, but because "United 93" is about people who took personal responsibility and acted in circumstances which they didn’t cause but nevertheless confronted them. Their actions didn't extend their own lives, but gave life to countless others who were saved by their heroics. Therein lies a depth of sacrifice and love that few Americans have heard enough recent stories about.
When "commitment" and "willingness to sacrifice" are discussed, we're usually hearing about the other guys.
If you didn’t already hate Alex Karev from "Grey's Anatomy" for his womanizing ways and poor treatment of Izzy, last night’s episode gave you plenty of ammo. As regular viewers of the ABC smash hit know, Alex is the painfully honest intern at Seattle Grace Hospital--as distinct from the painfully earnest Meredith Grey, the show’s namesake; the painfully put-upon George, etc. Alex’s character is drawn as the type of doctor who thinks the term “beside manner” refers to how skillfully one ditches that evening’s one-night stand.
In last night's show, Addison, a highly regarded OB/GYN surgeon, forces Alex to shadow her as punishment for his mouthing off to her. Addison’s patient is scheduled to have a C-section to deliver her seventh child. Instead of being ecstatically happy about the coming delivery, the woman, Rose (played wonderfully by Jean Louisa Kelly), reels off a list of hospitalizations she has endured for exhaustion and dehydration due to the fact that she is constantly caring for her six children and forgetting to care for herself. She’s happy to have another child, but she wants Addison to tie her tubes so that she can’t have anymore. Nothing unusual there.
But, it turns out, the woman and her husband are Catholics, and while she doesn’t feel the Church would have a problem with her operation, she knows that her extremely devout husband would go ballistic. Her husband is so devout that he stopped receiving the Eucharist for the month she had gone on the pill, so the couple abstained from sex for three years to avoid pregnancy. Rose loves her husband, but wants to be able to make love without all the worry. Now she wants the surgery done, but wants no records of it to exist. She’s even been saving up money so she can pay for it out of pocket. Addison completely understands, but Alex just says that if her husband is so Catholic, he would never divorce her, even if she told him. That, of course, is the woman’s fear, that her husband would never divorce her and she would be stuck in a hate-filled marriage. Addison reminds Alex that their duty is to their patient.
While performing the C-section, Addison says that she sees unexpected bleeding that needs to be taken care of and begins to perform the tubal ligation. Alex responds loudly that he sees no bleeding and doesn’t think anything needs to be done. There is a standoff and Alex eventually backs down. Addison tells the woman that there were complications during the c-section and she won’t be able to have children again—wink, wink. The woman weeps with joy, but her husband is shocked and wonders aloud to Alex about whether it’s a blessing or not. Alex lets slip that maybe he should consult a lawyer, that this complication is, indeed, a “blessing”--a blessing “that will put your seven kids through college.”
The husband consults legal and Addison asks the woman to tell her husband that she requested the tubal ligation. She refuses to do so--a not very Christian thing to do, in my opinion, especially when Addison’s career is on the line. Addison doesn’t let Alex’s impunity go, though: She asks for him to be assigned to her for as long as she sees fit.
There are many reasons to dislike Alex, and he certainly shouldn’t have hinted to the woman’s husband that there may be a lawsuit in all of this. But there have been instances where his brutal honesty has been helpful. Remember the time he told a woman that there was no hope for recovery, to snap out of denial so that she would talk to her daughter about it and have some final quality time with her? Of course, he didn’t put it that nicely, but it is interesting that in the same episode where a prominent, eager-to-offer-advice divorce attorney is also a patient, the outspoken intern gives some of the best marital advice. What he said to Addison’s patient was, in essence, that she shouldn’t blame the pope for not being able to talk to her husband. And if hubby doesn't understa
nd, there's always that divorce lawyer in the room next door....
In the debate over "United 93," supporters and detractors of the Sept. 11 film tend to agree that Paul Greengrass has made a poweful and sensitive movie; disagreement has centered on whether it's too soon for the country to re-encounter that tragic day on screen and whether this particular movie, however good it is as a movie, succeeds in helping us cope with and respond to the strong emotions we all feel from that day.
Mary Ann and Frederic Brussat--media editors of Spirituality & Health magazine, now producing their own website, Spirituality & Practice--present a third way of looking at the movie. In response to my own review of the film, Mary Ann emailed me to say, "You said that you couldn’t see how the movie furthers a conversation on important issues--and that it didn’t go below the surface. Fred and I decided that it was our responsibility to do that in our reaction to the film. The movie is a bit of a blank slate. We can write all kinds of things on it."
And what the Brussats did with this difficult film was create a beautifulmeditation. To quote just one piece of it:
It will be easy for those who hate terrorists — hate the very fact that terrorism exists — to hate back after this shattering experience. But instead they could see United 93 as a chance to practice empathy and not hostility.
Donna Freitas has a Ph.D. in spirituality and is the author of "Becoming A Goddess Of Inner Poise: Spirituality for The Bridget Jones in All of Us."
Douglas Howe is an ordained minister, executive coach, author, and retreat leader.
Paul O'Donnell is the former Culture editor at Beliefnet.
Kris Rasmussen, the author of "WonkaMania," has been a contributing editor to the Christian music magazine CCM and a feature writer for Relevant magazine.
Plus, a number of Beliefnet editors will also be posting to Idol Chatter as the mood strikes.
"American Idol" runner up Katherine McPhee may have thought the controversy surrounding her appearance in the final two instead of hugely popular rocker Chris Daughtry was going to be the most difficult moment of competing on the hit reality show. But that was before the rumors started swirling this past week about Katherine McPhee’s possible involvement in Scientology.
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Whether she’s kissing Madonna, marrying a childhood friend in Vegas, or filming her own so-awful-it's-funny reality show, Britney Spears never fails to make for great sound bites and magazine covers. But, for me, the high points of my Britney fascination have been the ones connected to religion.
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After nearly three decades out of the musical spotlight, Yusuf Islam--formerly known as Cat Stevens--is back with the promise of a new album. Inspired by growing tensions between his beloved religion and the West, the singer-songwriter 
The end of the eight-year run of the WB's "Charmed" also marked the passing of a programming trend that began in the mid-late 90s, Wicca and witches. The proliferation of this particular primetime paganism--or rather, this artistic approximation of paganism--began with ABC’s "Sabrina the Teenage Witch" in 1996. Based on the Archie comic book series, Sabrina (played by Melissa Joan Hart) her two bachelorette, witch aunts, and ex-wizard cat, Salem, found themselves in many a zany situation thanks to miscast spells and improper potions. 
Discrimination. Genetic engineering. The Federal government invading private citizens' privacy. What has made the "X-Men" comic books and their recent adaptations on the big screen 
“But what about my friends?” In between all of the revelations about the hatch--I mean, hatches--and the return of Desmond, the guy the island survivors found in the hatch, it was still that line--spoken by roly-poly Hurley--that moved me the most as I watched the 
As promised in all the hype about the season finale of “Lost,” obsessed viewers learned the following: What happens when the "save the world" counter stops at zero... and the buttons aren't pushed.
Once upon a time, the 
I heard a sermon on Broadway last night, and it wasn't in the nearby Church of Scientology. It is the opening scene of the Pulitzer Prize-winning "
It's happened to me many times—a mind-blowing coincidence will occur, and I'll think, "If this happened in a movie or a book, it would be totally corny and unbelievable." Which is why it takes such great skill to make coincidence unfold in fiction with authentic, goosebump-giving ease. This skill was sorely necessary in making the long-awaited film rendition of the novel "The Celestine Prophecy," 
It's generally a sign of a rock star's age--and fading relevance--when her fans are called "the faithful," even when the artist in question is the renegade Roman Catholic-turned-Kabbalist Madonna. At 47, the singer kicked off 
Thank heaven for little girls, goes 
"
John Travolta and Tom Cruise aren't the only Scientology fans in Tinsel Town. In an article titled "
The big, fat extra-special 
Alvin the Chipmunk; Geddy Lee of Rush; Polyphonic Spree; The Violent Femmes' Gordon Gano... Daniel Smith, the leader of the indie-gospel band Danielson Famile (sic), has been compared to any number of musical masters. The Famile's 
"
For the group we might call "
The WB dramedy “
Yes, I have already 
Just before going to see 
Just how many movies can Hollywood make about spelling bees as a cinematic metaphor for overcoming the odds? It is easy to dismiss the latest film about the importence of speling wordz corectly, 
Picture yourself in one of the trendiest Manhattan restaurants. Fruity cocktails in deep martini glasses rest in many a manicured hand. Fashion is top-notch; this is New York after all. It’s dark, very dark. The lights are so dim that you can barely make eyes at that person across the room. Yet, many rise to the challenge (why else would you spend $12 for a drink?). You’re mid-flirt, cocktail in hand, you look up and what do you see? A giant Buddha statue--reaching from floor-to-ceiling--set back deep in the dining room, to watch over all the young socialites.
I’m a Bruce Springsteen fan who’s had some fine spiritual reflections—and many moments of enjoyment—courtesy of Bruce’s music and writing. Usually it happens when the E-Street band is behind him, so I wasn’t necessarily excited about his new CD, "
Most docudramas, miniseries, and movies “inspired by actual events” are too long, too dramatic, and stray too far from the facts. “
