I hate to say I told you so. But way back when Madonna was embracing Kabbalah and taking my name as her own, I knew instinctively that Britney--who would have been a Wannabe, had she been a teenager in the 80s--would not be far behind her idol. And then suddenly Brit wore red string bracelets and toted copies of the Zohar (the primary Kabbalah text) poolside, and I was right: If Madge tries it, it's good enough for Britney.
But now Britney's gone beyond Madonna in her embrace of faux-alterna-Judaism, by dating Jewish model Isaac Cohen and sporting what tabloids claim is Cohen's Magen David (star of David) necklace. While Jews everywhere are echoing Kapped's prayer ("not a Jew, please"), and speculating that the necklace (and her new hair color) indicates an imminent conversion, pop culture historians should point out that we should probably blame Madonna for this, too: Remember her song from "Confessions on a Dance Floor" that might have been about a storied Kabbalist? It was called "Isaac."
And Britney's attempt to catch up with Madonna--and maybe find her own spirituality, or self, in the process--continues.
posted by Esther Kustanowitz @ 5:26 PM | Permalink |
Nowhere on television is God's existence more consistently, vigorously, and eloquently debated than on Fox's medical series "House," and in last night's episode the acerbic, cynical doctor's faith--or lack of it--was once again put to the test in almost Shakespearean fashion.
As Gregory House is treating a series of patients with STDs , he encounters Eve, a woman who has been raped but refuses to talk about it. She also refuses to leave the hospital and won't let anyone treat her but House. When House then finds out thar Eve is actually pregnant from the rape, a fiery philosophical debate ensues about abortion, justice, and whether or not the choices in life matter at all.
Eve believes she should have the baby because life is sacred. She argues with House that "eternity is what we live for" and that she has to believe in God because she has to believe there are ultimate consequences for our choices. House counters by telling Eve to have an abortion and that "either God doesn't exist or he is unimaginably cruel" for allowing this to happen to her. She also challenges House's personal motives for always finding an excuse for not feeling comforted by a belief in the possibility of a higher power.
In true "House" fashion, the ending of the story is a little morally cloudy, as Eve does, in fact, choose to abort the baby, but House wonders whether or not he gave her the right counsel, leaving the man who declares he loves questions more than answers with even more questions still.
To those following the coverage of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes' recent paparazzi-chronicled nuptials, the attendance of Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony probably wasn't much of a surprise (unlike Brooke Shields and her husband). Lopez has been best friends with "King of Queens" star and Scientologist Leah Remini for years. But Lopez surprised gossip columnists (yes, you Perez Hilton) when she told a local Miami television station that her father has been a Scientologist for 20 years.
When asked by NBC 6 about the Cruise-Holmes wedding and her thoughts on peoples' negative perceptions of Scientology, she replied, "I, myself, am Catholic. But it's just sad that people would look at it (Scientology) in that way."
"My dad has been a Scientologist for 20 years. It's weird people want to paint it in a negative way."
Although speculation has been rife that Cruise has been courting Lopez to join the Church of Scientology, and that she has allegedly turned to the religion to help conceive, her spokesperson Leslie Sloane Zelnick continues to deny that the singer/actor is abandoning her Catholic faith, saying that "the fact that Lopez socializes with friends who happen to be Scientologists doesn't mean anything more or anything less other than she enjoys their company."
So, why is it that she's kept this tidbit about her father on the down low? It's true that her father is not a clebrity and therefore shouldn't be exposed to the harsh light of public scrutiny. And, yes, this would be a non-issue if he had turned out to be, say, a Congregationalist. But for better or worse, the mix of secrecy and celebrity that the Church of Scientology promotes makes this a "bombshell" of a story.
So you think that Muhammad Ali is the most famous convert to Islam? Well the "fastest-growing religion" may be welcoming a new brother to the fold, and brother, this potential convert would be a thriller.
It seems that Jermaine Jackson, who finished as runner-up on the British "Celebrity Big Brother," believes that his ultra-famous little brother, Michael Jackson, has given "serious thought" about converting to Islam. That's right folks. Brother Jermaine, a convert himself, said on Monday that he would like the King of Pop to consider Islam, saying that the religion would be "a great protection for [Michael] from all the things that he's been attacked with, which are false."
In an interview with BBC's Asian Network, Jermaine Jackson said there's strength and protection in Islam, adding that his faith kept him sane during his confinement in the Celebrity Big Brother house: "If I didn't have Allah and my prayer rug, I would not have survived and the reason why is because it kept me focused, it kept me calm."
Brother Michael, who now lives in Bahrain in the Middle East, has thought a lot about Islam during his long stays in the country, Jermaine said. Jermaine, in fact, takes credit for Michael moving to Bahrain, saying he "wanted him to get out of America and just go somewhere it's peaceful and quite and people pray five times a day, which is beautiful."
Having visited Western-loving Middle East countries myself (I spent a lovely vacation in Dubai in the United Arab Emirates a few years back), I can see how this part of the story could be true. Countries like Bahrain and the UAE are the near-perfect union of Western modernity and hipness with Muslim faith and morality.
But I'd be really, really surprised if Michael Jackson did indeed convert to Islam. After all, if some of his bizarre behaviors (not to mention his unfortunate trouble with child molestation accusations--though he was acquitted) don't fly in the U.S., it would be doubly the case in the Muslim world.
But like all major religions, Islam believes in fresh start if a person is really sincere about it. So maybe the King of Pop, if he really wanted it, would have a better life as a Muslim. Yusuf Islam (Cat Stevens) sure has (in my humble opinion), made a success of it.
The only double award winner for drama at the 2007 Sundance Film Festival was James C. Strouse's powerful debut film, "Grace is Gone." John Cusack gives a remarkably restrained performance as Stanley Philips, a father of two girls, confronted by a shocking reality. Stanley's wife, Grace, dies serving as a soldier in Iraq. How and when should Stanley communicate such horrible and life changing news to his daughters? "Grace is Gone" presents a profound, de-politicized portrait of grief. It is about the human cost of war.
Unable to find words to express his pain, Stanley takes the girls on a road trip. The fun promised by "Enchanted Gardens" gives Stanley a tangible goal during a time of boundless confusion. The oldest daughter, Heidi, has difficulty sleeping, often wandering outside in the middle of the night. As 12-year-old Heidi, actress Shelan O'Keefe displays a wisdom and woundedness far beyond her age. Younger sister, 8-year-old Dawn, brings a bouncy enthusiasm to the family, despite missing her mother. Dawn synchronizes her watch with her mother, promising to think about each other at the same moment, every day. As Dawn, young thespian Gracie Bednarzyk combines humor and longing. Alessandro Nivola plays Stanley's irresponsible brother, a counterpoint to the unquestioning patriotism of Stanley.
The emotional heart of "Grace is Gone" resides in John Cusack's muted portrait of Stanley. Cusack alters his walk, his appearance, his entire persona to inhabit Stanley's decency and despair. The Weinstein Company purchased "Grace is Gone" at Sundance for $4 million and are already slating Cusack's performance to contend for next year's Academy Awards. It is that soul-achingly good.
Why did a star of Cusack's magnitude sign onto a modest, independent film directed by a novice director? During the post screening question and answer session, Cusack praised James C. Strouse's "restrained, economical, powerful piece of writing." "Grace is Gone" builds upon Strouse's laconic screenplay for the Sundance 2005 film, "Lonesome Jim." Strouse graces his Midwestern characters with moments of stillness, reflection, and familial love. From the girls fighting in the car to a father taking his daughters to get their ears pierced, "Grace is Gone" is loaded with precise and touching observations. Strouse quite appropriately won the Waldo Salt Screenwriting award.
Cusack called "Grace is Gone" "a big, small little movie." It is an important piece of work that cuts across our overly politicized era. Cusack noted our sense of helplessness surrounding the war in Iraq. He said, "We can get involved politically, we can pray or we can grieve." "Grace is Gone" is a film about grief. It puts a lump in your throat at the start of the film that never leaves.
"Grace is Gone" also won the Audience Award at Sundance for Best Drama. It is more cathartic than depressing. Audience members around me came prepared to cry, distributing Kleenex all around. I found myself reaching for a tissue, wishing that my tears could somehow bring peace to Iraq and the soldiers' home to their families. Afterwards, Cusack quoted Arthur Miller, suggesting, "An era is over when its illusions have been exhausted." "Grace is Gone" serves as both a wake and a wake up call. In poetically understated fashion, filmmaker James C. Strouse concluded, "I'm just trying to tell an honest story."
In business these days, children are a fact of life. Working from home to stay with a sick child is an allowable indulgence. If anyone remarks on a small voice in the office or in the background on a conference call, it's most often to note it warmly. In 1973, when Roe v. Wade was being decided by the Supreme Court, children and business--and therefore women and business--never mixed. In order to get or keep a job, a woman could not get, or stay, pregnant.
This isn't an argument for or against the need for legal abortion in 2007. But it is one of the fascinating perspectives offered by PBS's excellent two-part history of the Supreme Court, which debuts tomorrow night and Feb. 7th. The documentary does much to humanize the Court and the implications of its decisions for real people. It reports the standard Roe lore that Justice Harry Blackmun's opinion was heavily influenced by Blackmun's wife and four daughters, who assailed him with their pro-choice views at the dinner table. More than that, though, the show reminds us that the Court's decisions can change our workaday lives so fundamentally that we forget why they seemed imperative at the time—leaving us to debate only abstract principles.
Not that the film trivializes the purpose or power of the court. The greater movements of history are also given their due: the civil-rights battles of the post-WWII era and the broad expansion of individual rights that followed, we learn, were the result of an opposition to totalitarianism that defined all American politics, including the Court's, and redefined our values.
But the personalities and human foibles are what make these four hours of talking heads and decorous re-enactments compelling. Even Marbury v. Madison, the 1803 case that established the justices' power to quash legislation, involved a political battle between two second cousins, Thomas Jefferson and Chief Justice John Marshall, and hinged on Marshall's brother's failure to deliver an important document to would-be justice-of-the-peace William Marbury. That kind of detail dissolves the mist of highflown principle and tradition that swirls around any institution like the Supreme Court. And that's what good history does.
Who would guess that the Sundance Film Festival would offer not one, but two compelling stories of life inside Russian Orthodox monasteries? "The Island" is a dark, foreboding, but ultimately transcendent film set on an icy Russian setting. "The Monastery: Mr. Vig and the Nun" is a Danish documentary filled with eccentric humor and profound beauty. I caught both films on the same packed day of Sundance screenings.
Director Pernille Rose Gronkjaer invested five years (and her own money) chronicling Mr. Vig's 50-year effort to transform his Danish castle into a monastery. A former Lutheran pastor, Mr. Vig wants "to create something enduring, something of quality." As a student of world religions, Mr. Vig had initially tried to establish a Buddhist monastery on his Hesbjerg estate. But when Sister Amvrosya and a team of Russian Orthodox nuns come to inspect the castle, it is out with the Thangkas, in with the Icons. This is the first of a series of comedic clashes between the monkish Mr. Vig and the determined Sister Amvrosya. Mr. Vig must fix the heater and repair the roof before the nuns will embrace Hesbjerg as their new home. The nuns bring a literal warmth to Vig's dilapidated castle.
As the story evolves, the filmmaker Pernille Rose Gronkjaer, also enters the drama, asking telling questions to Mr. Vig about his love life. He has practiced poverty and chastity, but clearly he struggles with obedience to rigors of the Orthodox Church. In an exclusive audio interview, Gronkjaer talked to students from the WindRider Forum about the fairy tale elements of the story.
With his imposing beard and furry hats, Mr. Vig looks like a character straight out of a Hans Christian Anderson story. The beauty of the Danish countryside is contrasted with the crumbling castle. Gronkjaer salutes the persistence of Mr. Vig and Sister Amvrosya as they overcome the elements and their personality clash to create a rare and humane love story. By the time Mother Amvosya leads Mr. Vig in a procession around the property, there wasn't a dry eye in the theater.
"The Island" (Russian title, "Ostrov") also follows a long procession, from cowardly acts in World War II, to profound moments of contemporary healing. Under pressure from the Nazis, a young sailor, Anatoli, shoots his ship captain, Tikhon. Washing ashore on a remote Russian island, Anatoli is rescued by Orthodox monks. Thirty years later, Anatoli has become a revered holy man, working out his salvation by digging coal and stoking fires for the monastery. Father Anatoli has become a source of prophecy, healing, and hope. Despite his spiritual power, Anatoli veers along the edge of madness, still haunted by his dark past. He walks "The Island," begging for forgiveness.
Building upon the celebrated legacy of Russian director Andrei Tarkovsky, filmmaker Pavel Lounguine has crafted a classic story of redemption. Anatoli pushes the Russian Orthodox priests to purge themselves of material goods and distractions. Lounguine comments upon post-communist Russia and its uncritical embrace of commerce. Anatoli also performs an exorcism with nothing but a simple prayer and the sign of the cross. It is a memorable moment of pure, transcendental cinema. But will Anatoli find rest for his weary soul? "The Island" offers haunting answers to his fervent prayers. Amidst a dark and dreary setting, "The Island" concludes with a symbol of eternal hope--a slow, dramatic fade to white.
--Posted by Craig Detweiler
Screenwriter Craig Detweiler directs the Reel Spirituality Institute (www.reelspirituality.org) at Fuller Seminary.
It couldn't have gotten any worse on "24" when the first of five nuclear bombs was detonated, presumably by Muslim terrorists. And so the eagerly anticipated season began, with Muslim extremists as the villain this time around. There's been a venerable smorgasborg of baddies on "24," the popular Fox drama that follows agent Jack Bauer, a one-man terrorist-fighting machine who each season races madly to try and avert some major disaster over the span of just 24 hours.
"24's" mix of bad guys has included "shadowy Anglo businessmen, Baltic Europeans, Germans, Russians, Islamic fundamentalists, and even the Anglo-American president of the United States," the network said in a press release. But the American Muslim community is up in arms again this year over the bad guys being Muslims, as was the case two seasons earlier.
But is it really that big a deal? Of course being Muslim myself, I cringe when I see Muslim terrorists being trotted out as the villain du jour in any movie or television show. But many Muslim advocacy groups are taking this a step further: "The overwhelming impression you get is fear and hatred for Muslims," said Rabiah Ahmed, a spokeswoman for the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR).
"After watching ["24"], I was afraid to go to the grocery store because I wasn't sure the person next to me would be able to differentiate between fiction and reality," Ahmed said in a CNN.com article.
Come on. I will probably draw the ire of many Muslims and Islamic groups by saying this, but we may be taking the power of a television show too seriously here. Granted, in a time when Muslims are sensitive to negative depictions of their faith and people--and rightly so--I can see why CAIR and other groups are wagging their finger at Fox for making Muslims the villains of the show again this season.
But at the same time, the choice of the typical villain in film and television follows the trajectory of who is deemed the "enemy" during that time. So in the 1980s, when we were in Cold War with the former Soviet empire, Russians were the bad guys in most films. At other times, when there was much attention on the growing illegal drug problem in the U.S., television and film gave us stereotypical Hispanic drug dealers to hiss at.
And now, sadly, Muslim extremists get those roles. It's not the way I, or millions of other non-extremist Muslims want it, but that's what happens in Hollywood. Does this mean we should just accept every show and film that chooses to make Muslims the bogeyman? No. We just have to pick our battles--fight the fight where there will be an impact. Like when Muslims protested Bruce Willis's 1998 movie, "The Siege."
"24" is not a one-season show. Jack Bauer is in it for the long haul, and through the years he has fought a whole slew of dastardly demons. Some years it is a devious U.S. president and other years it is Muslim extremists. Let's be fair: The show does cover some topics of importance to Muslims, including the detention of terror suspects in Guantanamo-type detention centers, the loss of Muslims' civil rights, and racial profiling.
The bottom line is that, like many other Muslims who take pride in their faith, I hate to see the minor, extremist population of Islam get face time. But that's what Hollywood does, and it's not the biggest battle Muslims have to fight. There's a lot more there to worry about than "24." And Jack is an awfully compelling hero to watch.
The fake controversy surrounding Dakota Fanning's new film, "Hounddog"--in which the child actress plays a victim of abuse who, in one much-discussed scene, is raped--demonstrates the unfortunate and continuing power of a press release. Political activists on both sides of the aisle have learned that well-timed (and unsubstantiated) accusations can be an effective fundraising tool with their constituencies. Such calculated (and often groundless) attacks demonstrate why celebrities are so dependent upon publicists to navigate volatile and tiresome cultural wars.
In feigning concern over Dakota Fanning's on-set abuse, those who shined a spotlight upon "Hound Dog" stirred up substantial interest in the small, Southern gothic film. Tickets for the premiere became hard to acquire. Accusations flew across newspapers and the Internet. But the few who were able to squeeze into the packed theater reported that the rape scene in question was handled with restraint. Moreover, film critics considered the film itself a fairly unoriginal revisiting of trailer trash stereotypes. The end result: much ado about fairly little.
Overlooked at Sundance amidst the pseudo-event were transcendent dramas about children threatened by genuine dangers. "Trade" focuses upon human trafficking, particularly upon children sold into sexual slavery. "Ezra," "The Devil Came on Horseback," and "War Dance" deal with civil wars in Africa, where kids are all too often abducted and turned into soldiers. "Ezra" reports from Sierra Leone and "The Devil Came on Horseback" follows the transformation of a soldier into an activist in Darfur.
"War Dance" documents the dire situation facing war refugees in Northern Uganda. Over two million members of the Acholi tribe have been exiled from their homelands because of the ill-named Lord's Resistance Army. "War Dance" follows the stories of three children amidst the 60,000 refugees gathered at a "displacement camp." It is set against the backdrop of a national music competition, where war orphans from Patongo Primary School hope to compete. Produced by Shine Global to raise awareness and funds for the refugees, "War Dance" celebrates the power of music and dance to overcome the most overwhelming conditions.
For "War Dance," the husband and wife team of Sean Fine and Andrea Nix Fine won the award for best documentary directing at Sundance. Jeff Consiglio's editing juxtaposes the horrors of war with the lush colors of the African bush. The sounds and images are beautiful and haunting. The camera also serves as a confessional for three children, a safe place to reveal the painful realities they witnessed.
We see the prayers of Nancy, as she takes on the role of mother to her brothers and sisters. Dominic wants to grow into Uganda's finest xylophone player. Rose suffers under the hand of her aunt, pining for her mother and her old life. Despite their devastating circumstances, the children practice and perform the traditional Bwola dance with profound hope and joy.
"War Dance" reminds us where the religious leaders who claim to care about children should focus their efforts. It is the real story emerging from Sundance that the press needs to follow. Thankfully, Think Film has plans to release "War Dance" in theaters, making it an early contender for next year's Oscars. The movie going public will ultimately decide which films and stories to dignify.
For more info about War Dance or how to support children in Patongo, Uganda, go to www.shineglobal.org.
-- Posted by Craig
Detweiler
Craig Detweiler works for the Brehm Center for Worship, Theology and the Arts (www.brehmcenter.org) at Fuller Theological Seminary.
Don't mistake "Eagle vs. Shark" for your average love story. This "romantic comedy turned on its head" by New Zealand director Taiko Waititi was one of the most talked-about premieres at Sundance. I heard at a previous screening someone called it "the best movie ever made." When I arrived at the line early, the waiting list for stand-by admission was already sold out. At the opening shot, before anything really funny even happened, half the audience was already laughing out loud.
Think "Napoleon Dynamite" meets "Pride and Prejudice" with a dash of "Monty Python" and "Homestar Runner." She is a shy but charming, guitar-playing underdog; he is a brooding, self-absorbed nerd at the top of the video gamers' social ladder. Imagine Mr. Darcy with taped-up glasses, martial arts T-shirts, and an old-school game console. But the resemblance to Jane Austen's famous couple ends there.
Instead of fluently witty banter, their interactions are rather awkward. The premise of two geeks clumsily falling in love was the film's selling point, but what makes "Eagle vs. Shark" great are the layers within it. What Lily and Jarrod are unable to articulate in words arrives via subtext and symbolism. They express themselves through their favorite animals--Jarrod is the eagle and Lily is the shark--reflecting their different personalities (perhaps a reference to "air" and "water" in ancient temperament theories).
Jarrod (Jemaine Clement) has his head in the clouds and an ax to grind. He is so hung up on a grudge with the old classmate who used to beat him up that he forgets what he has in front of him. Lily (Loren Horsley) is not the aggressive extroverted personality one would associate with a shark, but in her own quiet way she is determined to catch Jarrod, and her piercing eyes express much more than she is able to say.
At the heart of "Eagle vs. Shark" resides the desire for love and acceptance. Jarrod has a tense relationship with his family and exaggerates Lily's accomplishments in an unnecessary effort to get them to like her. He makes himself feel good about his catch. He also feels like his past defines him, and he gets preoccupied (hilariously) preparing for a "duel" to defend his "honor." Lily also wants acceptance. In one image, she feels the weight of staggering rejection. Later, the same image results in sudden popularity.
A stop-motion subplot carries the symbolism further. Wistful colors and beautiful shots of New Zealand are mixed with abstract imagery and computer technology of questionable age. As in the breakout Sundance hit, "Napoleon Dynamite," it is hard to tell when "Eagle vs. Shark" takes place... but you're laughing so much you don't care.
"Eagle vs. Shark" is unlike any other romantic comedy I've seen. It already scored a distribution deal with Miramax and is slated for a summer release. I can see the Hot Topic merchandise already. But don't mistake this for mindless entertainment. While "Eagle vs. Shark" may not inspire late-night coffee shop conversations on social justice, it still hits close to home regarding human nature. This New Zealand comedy inspires laughter--and even healing.
-- Posted by Rachelle Klemme
Rachelle Klemme is a film major at Biola University (www.mcom.biola.edu) in La Mirada, California.
I finally saw "The Aristocrats" this weekend, and will refrain from adding--at this late date--to the reams of commentary on this documentary about the telling and retelling of a single, legendary, vile joke by professional comedians. In a completely unrelated aside, however, Robin Williams did offer this gem, which may be old news for lots of people, but I'd never heard it:
A rabbi walks into a bar with a frog on his shoulder. The bartender says, "Where'd you get that?" The frog answers, "Brooklyn. There are hundreds of them there."
Last week my husband returned from Seattle on Delta Airlines, and told me he had some "Idol Chatter blog-worthy" news: As they crossed the country at 35,000 feet, they were treated to quite the interesting version of the Golden Globe-winning "The Queen." All the references to "God" were bleeped out, he explained in shock. And not just the "Lord in vain" kind--but the "God save the Queen" kind too. As one after the other reference to God was edited out of the film, people all around him began questioning whether or not it was just them, or had somebody censored the film.
Turns out, they weren't imagining things!
The Washington Post reports that yes, it's true, "all mentions of God are bleeped out of a version of the film distributed to Delta and some other airlines," and passengers have been hearing characters delivering lines in the following manner: "(Bleep) bless you, ma'am." God is edited out a total of seven times.
Their explanation? It was a rookie employee blunder:
Jeff Klein, president of Jaguar Distribution, the Studio City, Calif., company that supplied the movie to the airlines earlier this month, said it was a mistake, committed by an overzealous and inexperienced employee who had been told to edit out all profanities and blasphemies.
"A reference to God is not taboo in any culture that I know of," Klein said. "We excise foul language, excessive violence and nudity.
For the most part, there isn't always a lot of grace shown at “Grey’s Anatomy’s” Seattle Grace Hospital. The show dabbles with the “diseases” of the human condition, those murky, dirty, selfish gray areas of torrid love affairs, ruthless competitiveness, the keeping of dark secrets, and cutting the LVAD wire keeping your boyfriend alive so that he can get the next heart on the list. But last night’s episode was different, offering a glimpse of real grace. We meet two young women who seem to have a dying devotion to one another. “From cradle to the grave,” they keep saying about their bond.
Unfortunately, one of the women has a massive uterine tumor and needs to have a radical hysterectomy immediately. When the doctor suggests she might want to call her parents, her friend begins to freak out, saying that she only needs her and that the situation is complicated and that neither of them speaks with their parents anymore. This friend is wild eyed, jumpy, and quite zealous, leading viewers to think that either something is not quite right with the situation or that she has been partaking of way too much Starbucks.
Unexpectedly, the parents of the dying girl arrive at the hospital and start asking questions in Pennsylvania Dutch. That’s right--the girl’s parents are Amish. Her friend continues to become even more agitated, accusing Izzy of calling them. We later find out that this young woman had been baptized but then decided to leave the Amish community, resulting in her being shunned by all of her family and friends. But the girl with the tumor refused to turn her back on her best friend and ran off to the big city to support her. However, having not yet been baptized, she has not been shunned.
During the operation, the surgeons discover that the tumor is, in fact, end-stage and inoperable. And we discover that the sick girl called her parents herself, wants to go back and spend her last days with the community, and be baptized. Her friend is inconsolable, knowing that her best friend will have to shun her; but, in the end, she accepts that letting her friend go back is the ultimate embodiment of “from the cradle to the grave” friendship.
In turn, the dying woman’s mother tells the heretofore fully shunned friend that she will let her mother know that she is alive and a good person. They hug and the friend leaves.
While not given as much screen time as the storyline about George becoming the “Love Doctor,” it affected every other storyline of the evening. George runs from the girl’s surgery after they determined she has end-stage cancer, mirroring the recent death of his father. And Izzy learns that she, too, must “let go” of best friend George in order for him to really be with Callie.
Many year’s ago, a relative of mine joked that she may have to induce the birth of her third child since the expected due date was the same as the Super Bowl and she wanted her husband to be there for the birth. Luckily, said child arrived naturally three days before the big game, and we never had to witness the eventual bludgeoning that would have ensued when the football-watching father didn’t realize that mama’s comment was meant to be funny, not factual.
But don’t tell that to Colleen Pavelka a Homer Glen, Illinois, woman who opted to be induced last Friday so that her husband wouldn’t miss the Chicago Bears’ NFC playoff game against the New Orleans Saints.
With a due date set for January 22, Pavelka was scared that she might go into labor at Soldier Field and ruin her hubby’s big day:
"I thought, how could [Mark] miss this one opportunity that he might never have again in his life?" she told the AP.
Sure, inductions are on the rise and are being schedule for all sorts of debated, convenience-driven reasons these days. And having grown up in Chicago Bear’s territory, I understand the rabid nature of the Soldier Field faithful. (Mr. Pavelka wore a ‘Monsters of the Midway’ shirt during the delivery, reports the AP.)
But it strikes me as wrong to induce the birth of your child, to ask him to leave the comfort of the womb before he’s ready, and to take on the inherent risks of induction, just so your husband can attend a football game. Sure, it’s a playoff game, but isn’t witnessing the birth of his child, even a second child, also “one opportunity that [Mr. Pavelka] might never have again in his life”? (Then again, discounting the Bears’ recent comeback, he could have been waiting a while.) Besides, what would have been better than Mrs. Pavelka going into labor at Soldier Field on the day Da Bears made it to their first Super Bowl in over 20 years?
What do you think? Is scheduling the birth of a child in order for yourself or your spouse to attend a sporting event a reasonable thing to do? Or would you throw a flag on that play? Let Idol Chatter know.
I may not be a comic book junkie, nor have I been swept up--at least in any lasting way--into the graphic novel craze that has hit the bookshelves of late, but I couldn't pass by "Persepolis," Marjane Satrapi's vivid (literally) graphic memoir of growing up in Tehran during the Islamic revolution. I was captivated by this comic strip-like portrayal of a girl from a liberal family--once free to run and play like any Western child--suddenly struggling with having to wear the hijab and with new restrictions on education for young Muslim women.
Ms. Satrapi has drawn herself thousands of times. But she found it initially overwhelming to watch her own vivid gestures animated on computer screens in the skylighted atelier that is the film’s headquarters in the 10th Arrondissement. Eventually, she said, she learned to put emotional distance between herself and her character. “From the beginning I started to talk about ‘Marjane’ and ‘Marjane’s parents,’ ” she explained, “because you cannot do it otherwise. There are people, for example, drawing my grandmother. My grandmother is dead. Here not only is she moving, but I have to look at her, image by image."
Though the process of animating her story and remaining true to its original images, style, and life growing up as a "girl rebel" in an strict Islamic regime has been challenging. Now that it's finished and soon to release in France (and eventually the U.S., since they have found a distributor), Satrapi commented with embarrassed pride, "It is hard for me, for my ego, to say this: For me, the movie is better than the book."
If you've somehow missed "Persepolis" the graphic memoir, go right now to your local bookstore and buy it. It's an amazing read.
Philip Yancey, author of "Where Is God When It Hurts?", once said that if the church was more present in this world and attending to its pain, people would be asking the question that is the title of his book with much less frequency.
Love God. Love your neighbor. Both the Old and New Testaments proclaim this simple frame work in which all of humanity was intended to live. In the United States we have hundreds of thousands of people who profess to hold these scriptures as the holy text of their life. And yet a film like Trade is made and it isn’t fiction.
Trade is a film about the sex trafficking that is happening between Mexico and the US. It is a gut-wrenching look at the horror of what happens when people let evil go unchecked. Abduction, deception, rape, greed, hate, murder – these are the fruit of the sex trade. Trade expertly depicts the hell of this world with out making the film unwatchable.
While the whole of the biblical text makes it clear that the term neighbor is be to applied to all of humanity, not just those who are physically living next to us, this is a moment where neighbor should be taken very literally. What is more of our neighbor than Mexico? While our country works hard to build a wall between itself and this neighbor, people of faith need to be asking if this wall is doing more than keeping Mexicans out. A horrible consequence of this wall could be further insulating us from the lives of those who need us the most. As Trade shows, this business is being done on the Internet. While a wall might make it harder for people to be smuggled into our country, the Internet will make this a very low hurdle for these evil people to jump.
People looking to God through prayer for deliverance fill this film. Many of these prayers are answered when people – normal people just like you – take the dangerous step to love. And as we have been shown through the life of Jesus, love that saves is a love that will cost us our life.
The producer, Rosilyn Heller, said in a Q&A session with the Windrider Forum, that the topic of sex trade is not a religious issue – and I would agree with her. But, I would add that this is a deeply spiritual issue. If we, as people of faith do not stand apposed to this evil, I am not sure what we are standing for.
After His resurrection Jesus appeared to those who were His followers and said, “As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.”
Thanks to Marco Kreuzpaintner (director) and Jose Rivera (screenwriter) for showing us how we have closed our ears to those words of Jesus. It is time for the body of believers around this world to demand that this evil be banished for this earth. It is time for us to not just pray, but be the answer to the prayers of those being devastated by the sex trade. Isn’t this exactly what Jesus was talking about when He taught us to pray, “on earth as it is in heaven?”
- Eric Kuiper
Eric Kuiper is a Fuller Theological Student and a Windrider participant.
Filmmaker Alexandra Pelosi's HBO documentary "Friends of God," which premieres tonight, promises a behind-the-scenes look at the "broad tent" that is evangelicalism in this country, but instead, the film simply follows the same unimaginative formula of other documentaries, like "Jesus Camp." The formula goes like this: After stating that you are going to provide a thoughtful and fair-minded look at the millions of Christians in the U.S., you show extensive footage of Ted Haggard and Jerry Falwell interwined with interviews with Southerners who have various Jesus slogans on their vehicles and t-shirts and who homeschool their children. For good measure, in case anyone misses your point, you make sure you edit your film footage to show these people in the most unattractive way possible.
Such a static treatment of Christians is frustrating, but it is not even remotely the most annoying part of this documentary. Even if I give Pelosi (daughter of Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi) the benefit of the doubt and assume that more moderate, socially-conscious evangelicals like Jim Wallis, Rick Warren, or Rob Bell were wisely unavailable for comment, that doesn't excuse Pelosi's simplistic interviewing skills. "Friends of God" doesn't give any insight into Christianity in our culture, but it sure does give us a good glimpse at Pelosi's lack of professionalism as a journalist.
When she attends a church service in Texas, she approaches three young men in amazement, asking them what a group of "swingers" like them are doing in a church on a Saturday night. That's the extent of the interview, but then she moves on to chatting with motivatinal speaker/pastor Joel Osteen. She asks Olsteen in mock astonishment how he could possibly fill a stadium with Christians. And that's as far as that interview goes.
But then there is the most uncomfortable moment of the show, when she talks with Ted Haggard--who had not yet been enmeshed in his very-public sex scandal--about sex. He and a few of his parishoners tell her that evangelicals actually have better sex lives than other people--and she giggles, saying she had no idea she was with a such a group of "studs." In between listening to all of these fascinating soundbytes, I tried counting how many times Pelosi says in sarcastic bemusement, "Wow, we don't have that in New York" whenever she is talking to a Christian or looking at a Jesus slogan on a billboard, but I eventually lost track.
But just in case any Idol Chatter readers think I am responding to one bias with a bias of my own, the national trade paper Variety also criticizes the way Pelosi treats her subject matter, saying she displays "thinly veiled condescension" of Christians. The Variety article goes on to wisely suggest it is foolish to lump all evangelicals into one mold and to assume there is no common ground. Variety defending Christians against a New York liberal? Now that's what I call progress.
NBC's fantastic new show "Heroes" finally returned this week after a too-long holiday hiatus, premiering with the episode "Godsend" and leaving viewers with some interesting ideas to ponder: Are the heroes' special powers gifts from God?
At least one of the heroes thinks so. D. L. Hawkins--right-hand man of Claire's (the cheerleader) father, whose power is to block all use of a hero's ability with his presence--played the role of spiritual sage to Claire's doubts and struggles about what she thinks are her "freakshow" abilities. As Claire expressed her wish to go back to a life where things are "normal," Hawkins urged her to be grateful for the gifts bestowed on them. "Gifts?" she replied with disdain and skepticism. For Hawkins, not only are their superpowers gifts from God, but they are God, he expressed with conviction.
Hawkins isn't alone either. Hiro (the most adorable character on television)--who can bend space and time--received a special sword last episode, which is literally meant to represent his "divine" talent. And in keeping with Hiro's wide-eyed, child-like wonder about all that is happening to him, he accepts this divine symbol with a kind of blind faith.
Given that some of the "heroes," like creepy serial-killer Sylar, use their powers for utter evil, the idea that all superpowers are divine is up for debate. Is it the power itself that's divine? Or how a person receives and wields the power an act of God?
What is a Sundance Film? This was one of the writing prompts for an article review I wrote for a class in conjunction with the Sundance Film Festival. I said it was simply the absence of a studio backed film - independent, sans Hollywood. This could be a wide range in styles carrying an even larger number of themes. I recently watched two movies that spanned this spectrum.
Waitress, with Kerri Russell is about a woman trapped in an horrible marriage who finds solace in making crazy pie creations. Enter unwanted pregnancy and the new cute town doctor, paired with hilarious dialogue and pie recipes along with real questions about happiness and responsibility. I walked out with a new favorite. Thanks to a good reaction plus a few newspaper articles in town, it's becoming a festival favorite, and has been picked up for 3 million (meaning it has studio backing and will get distributed to theaters and DVD).
There are a few films at Sundance that deal with homosexuality and Christianity, one of which is the documentary For the Bible Tells me So. It deals with the way the American church is treating homosexuals. Whew - hot topic. Watch out, the water’s just getting warm.
Another film that is getting a fair bit of attention (and previously reviewed here on Beliefnet) is Save Me, which also deals with homosexuality and the church. Chad Allen (who recently played Steve Saint in End of the Spear) plays a gay drug addict who hits rock bottom, finds healing at a Christian gay rehabilitation retreat center, and falls for one of the guys at the center.
The cool thing about getting into a premiere at a place like Sundance is the dialogue since most of the cast and crew are there. The opening comments by the director of Save Me were poignant: “This is not a gay movie. This is not a Christian movie. This is an American movie.” While the film itself was about average, it is definitely worth seeing for a timely message, which was summed up by an audience member during the post-movie Q&A: “This is a movie about love!”
This movie was written and produced by both gay and pro-gay filmmakers, but the irony is it’s not for the gay community - its for the rest of the country, especially those who would condemn and judge homosexuals.
Judith Light, plays the stanch conservative Christian who seeks to ‘cure’ these men of homosexuality, and really more selfishly, find her own redemption and make peace with God in the process. Instead she is shown love by those she condemns. It portrays all sides in a real way without going over the top. I felt I could walk away from this film and enter into dialogue - it’s building bridges.
Yet honestly, I winced and wrestled during this movie. Am I endorsing something I don’t agree with by being here? How do I feel about this issue? But I needed to be there, and glad I was. I walked up and talked to three of the producers afterwards and told them that I was a theology student here to study spiritual themes in films. We said we appreciated the film, but especially their dialogue and approach with it afterwards.
They responded with authentic gratitude. I left blown away with the irony of the gay community producing a film with such real, but respectful, portrayal of how they are treated by the church.
- Kristin Myers
Kristin Myers comes from Southern California, is a Fuller Theology student and is currently participating in the WindRider Film Forum
Upon viewing the film "Trade" (2007) by Marco Kreuzpainter, the scales have been removed from my eyes by this frightening film, which portrays the horror that goes on with in the world of sex trade. Jorge (Cesar Ramos Ceballos) is an older brother in a pursuit to rescue his kidnapped 13-year-old virgin sister Adrianna (Paulina Gaitan). During his relentless pursuit through Mexico he comes across Ray (Kevin Kline), a husband and Texas police officer who is also in search for something or someone. The alliance between the two to save Adrianna from a life of sexual slavery takes them from the underground life in Mexico to suburban New Jersey, in an attempt to find her before she can be sold through an Internet sex slave auction.
The film begins with an amazing array of colors, as the camera zooms in and out of various shots from with in Mexico City. The lighting and juxtaposition of each shot communicates the piece of art that Marco has created with in the first five minutes and prepares the viewers for what they are about to see. Although the color and cinematography are well done, the strongest part of the film lies in the content and the message, which is being communicated to the viewers. Marco does a fine job of building tension to a point in which it becomes hard to watch and then releasing the tension throughout the film. The dialogue between Jorge and Ray communicates a message about today’s youth and their lack of trust in adults however, as the film progresses their interaction is heart warming and comedic at times providing an emotional break for the viewer.
The truth that lies behind such a horrific act by perverse men and women who are engulfed in a life of sex trade is difficult for Americans to believe. For so many, including myself it is easy to believe it is happening everywhere else but America; however, there are an estimated 50,000 - 100,000 children sold each year within the United States.
There are amazing moments of hope and beauty throughout the film between Adrianna and another slave Veronika (Alicja Bachelda-Curus). Veronika’s character becomes a figure of strength in which the other slaves lean on and view her strength in standing against the henchmen who are delivering them to their destination. Hope is also communicated in which stands out between Veronika and Adrianna one morning when Adrianna roles over in bed, smiles at Veronika and says good morning amidst the pain, and evil around the two of them. The second reason for hope is conveyed by the religious tones throughout the film as a heavy Catholic emphasis is spoken of as well as the symbolism in different shots through the film. Even one of the henchmen is seen praying to the cross leaving the viewer with a mixed set of emotions on what prayers will be listened and or answered by God.
There are so many amazing moments in this film one cannot begin to bring it any justice from one review. Go see the film, dialogue with others about this topic and then look for a way to become more educated on this incredible tragedy going on with in our country and many others. For more information on sex trafficking see stopthetraffik.org --Posted by Drew Girton
Drew Girton comes from Pasadena, California, and is a Fuller Theology student and current Windrider participant.
Do we have a purpose? Can we control our life, or do we utterly lose control as we realize our helplessness? The movie “Slipstream” by Anthony Hopkins deals with these questions in a slipstream of so many flashbacks and sequences that the viewer is constantly trying to keep up with what is going on in the film. Felix Bonhoeffer is the main character, and upon the opening of the movie, we find that he has apparently passed away. One of his friends, a beautiful blonde who loves to talk mentions a slipstream being an ancient Indian belief involving karma and death. She defines a slipstream as being a stream of sequences from past lives that come together when one dies.
Throughout the rest of the movie, we see scene after scene of utter chaos. There are so many characters who appear and reappear in different scenes and playing different characters, one is constantly asking himself, “Weren’t they so and so in the last scene?” In the end, the viewers are left wondering, trying to grip what exactly they just witnessed. I wanted desperately to ask Sir Anthony Hopkins just what his thought process was in making this movie. He put so much effort into it, writing it, putting the score together, acting in it and so much more, and I was left wanting to hear his point of view. There were references to death, to the absurdity of life and how Someone - a great “writer” in the sky or just one crazy man’s view of life - was in control of everything that happened. It seemed to have a wonderfully intriguing view on what life is and how we live it.
Questions of life and how we control it abound, and in this film the viewer will not find a pretty packaged answer at the conclusion. Rather, if you are like me, you will want to watch this movie several times over to grasp the explosion of ideas and themes that is the movie “Slipstream.” Thank you, Mr. Hopkins, for introducing me into the world of Sundance with your film!
- Joel Kennedy
Joel Kennedy is a Fuller Theology student and both a Sundance and Windrider participant.
Several months ago, while perusing a women's magazine, I came across an article by a psychologist advising women not to get married until their late 20s/early 30s. She sagely suggested that marrying someone when you are relatively young virtually guarantees that you will grow apart, since both members of the couple still haven't fully developed as adults. I meant to cut it out and send it to my mother.
Perhaps MTV read the same article and realized that a reality show about young couples diving into matrimony might not only serve as a cautionary tale, but offer some dramatic television moments. (When have you known a wedding that didn't bring out the drama queen in absolutely everyone involved?) Ladies and gentleman, may I introduce to you, "Engaged and Underaged."
The show--a mix of WE's "Bridzillas," TLC's "A Wedding Story," and MTV's own "True Life" documentary series featuring 18 to 21 year-olds--"portrays a young couple as they take their first steps towards adulthood, and begin to define themselves as people outside the confines of their parents and home life," according to the show's press release.
On Monday's premiere episode, we meet Lauren and David, two 21-year-old virgins who met while attending Oral Roberts University. Lauren is now living with David and his parents, albeit staying in separate bedrooms, preparing for their big day. We very quickly learn that Lauren is not so comfortable with David's super-close relationship with his mother--which is a little too creepily close for comfort. What mother tells her 21-year-old son, in front of his fiancee and on national television, that she's going to have to get in bed with him and snuggle for the next few nights, since in five more days he will be married off?
Although it's never explicitly mentioned as a reason, we get the feeling that these crazy kids are jumping through the matrimonial hoop so that they can finally have sex. When David's father subtly reminds him of an offer of $20,000 should he wait until he is 26 to marry is still on the table--that he feels David should travel and get a job before he couples up--one gets the distinct feeling that dad was not entirely pleased with the pending nuptials. Lauren's brother, although a little late in telling her so at the rehearsal, thinks his sister might want to rethink her decision, as well.
It would seem that David's father is worried that the kids don't have enough life experience. As Dr. John Van Epp, author of "How to Avoid Marrying a Jerk," told the Daily News, "The younger you are, the less you know yourself. What comes with age is a sense of maturity of identity and the ability to blend who you are with who someone else is."
And he is right to worry. Lauren and David, while most certainly nice people, are most certainly not mature. She came from a broken family and seems to be compensating by getting married young. She never truly looks happy. This could be due to editing, or the fact that her family has very little to do with the planning, but she seems quite alone.
Meanwhile, David is a mama's boy and doesn't understand why his future wife finds this annoying. Even after she tells him not to talk to his mother about the room they will be staying in during their first night together, he still goes on to describe the bed to his mother--in great detail.
Neither one of them is employed and after the wedding, they will live in his parents' guest house, under the watchful eye of David's mother.
Thankfully, the show did follow up with the couple three months later. In their voiceovers, the couple talks about how gr
eat it is to be married. But the idyllic scene is broken with David's mother calling and asking if they wanted to come up for dinner and Lauren's jaw dropping.
The show doesn't have the in-depth nature or, dare I say it, the gravitas of the aforementioned "True Life" series. But in this day and age, where the average age for a first marriage is late 20s and early 30s for those holding graduate degrees, it's a fascinating look at those willing to walk down the aisle where many others fear to tread.
The Oscars are fun—in fact they’re one of our family's favorite nights of the year. We have three girls who (along with my wife) love the fashion show, while my son and I mostly laugh at that part while enjoying the rest.We toured the Kodak theater as a family this year and also love looking up Oscar history and watching old Oscar winners.
But as much as I love it, I’m almost always disappointed at the nominations. It seems like every year there are great films left out and performances overlooked. Worse than that, there are nominees that are just horrible, lacking in any staying power--movies and performances that, a few years from now, will be long-forgotten, let alone remembered as great. As fun as Oscar Night is--and as much as I hate to say it--the nominations process is not.
But that shouldn't surprise me, because the Academy isn't a committee of people who deliberate over a well-reasoned choice. In fact, Oscar has more in common with political campaigns than it does with artistic awards processes. The Golden Globes and various Guild awards are sort of like the state primaries and caucuses, and the media is manipulated through advertising and well-orchestrated buzz in a way similar to today's spins on the State of the Union speech.
If you--like many of the Idol Bloggers and myself--believe that some wonderful performances and pictures were overlooked by Oscar, you’re right, and the real bummer is that it’s not going to change any time soon. The Oscar campaign officially starts in November, and while there are sometimes attempts at restrictions, it’s obvious that Hollywood won’t be the place to put limits on “free speech,” even if that freedom messes with a straightforward voting process.
History will show that “Dreamgirls” won eight nominations and not a “Best Picture” nod, but no one will remark on the fact that that may have had more to do with five stronger campaigns than whether this was one of the best five pictures. History may evaluate that “Children of Men” was a better pic than it got credit for, but probably not the detail that the studio dollars have been spent on marketing (it moves to 1,200 screens today) rather than its Oscar campaign.
I somehow wish for the myth I had when I was a kid--that the Academy honored its best. At present, I think the actual performances are not what are judged: I think they’re merely the opening salvos in a campaign that ends on Oscar Night.And we’ll be watching. I wish it was different, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love it anyway.
Looking for God at the Sundance Film Festival is an intriguing enterprise. The Festival is certainly short on Focus on the Family style films. That doesn't mean, however, that God can't be found lurking in shadows, alleyways and in other unsuspected places.
A lot of what Sundance is about is standing in line. Particularly, if a desired movie has generated some buzz and is showing in one of the smaller venues. This afternoon, several of the Windrider forum folks stood in line for a couple hours on the waitlist to get into see 'The Ten', a satiric look at the Ten Commandments that we felt would be a great platform for conversation and dialogue between our selves and others at the Festival. We never got close to getting in. Another thing Sundance is about is improvising. One wait list doesn't pan out, jump over to the next line and hope for the best. In this case, that was the line for 'Acidente', a Brazilian documentary about 20 small rural Brazilian communities. This time we got in.
'Acidente' had no overt plot and little dialogue. It's makers merely picked the names of 20 Brazilian towns, arranged them in a free form poem and then set out to film something of the life of that town. They showed up in each town before dawn, with no plan and let the town 'tell them' what to film. The result was 20 odd, spare and yet achingly beautiful segments. Whether focusing upon the play of the light and shadow cast by a lightning storm on the buildings of one town or the children of another preparing for a religious parade or several minutes of people ascending and descending a road each scene was remarkably 'mindful.' If the Gospels are right and God truly counts the hairs on our head or notices every sparrow that falls in the field, then a movie like this is a hint of the world through God's eyes. Dignity and beauty lie in people, places and things that most of us fly by without thought. In a world where our business and self-absorbtion dehumanize the 'other' or numb us to their even existence, Acidente joyfully opens a world richly embued with beauty.
The late night movie at the Eccles, Sundance's largest and premiere venue, posited the possibility that God can be found with the most dispised and reviled. 'Longford,' a British movie made in conjunction with HBO tells the complex story of one man's, Lord Harry Longford, decades long attempt to bring compassion, forgiveness and what he believed to be justice to one of England's most imfamous criminals, Myra Hindley, who along with her lover had murdered several children in the 1960's. Driven by his Catholic faith to the conviction that ALL people, even those whose crimes are the most abhorent are worthy of care and mercy. In this agonizingly complex story Longford both ministers to and is manipulated by the wounded and brutal Hindley. His persistent visitations to her in prison and advocacy for her to be accorded the same possibilities of parole afforded to all criminals in England made him the object of nearly universal revilement or derision to his death in 2002. The film's makers do not shy away from the reality of evil in Hindley's acts or the flaws inLongford's own character. Still, the film ultimately raises the 'difficult and unpopular idea' to quote the screen writer from the Q & A that followed that ALL people are capable of repentence and that ALL people deserve dignity and humanity.
At Sundance, God
may not show up dressed in Sunday Best or with Sunday School familiarity, but if one is willing to keep one's eyes open, God pops up in surprising places.
-- Steve Sherwood, Windrider participant
For further information and continued conversation, go to the Windforum Film Forum.
Hoorah for the State of the Union! Three Cheers! It’s the best TV I’ve seen in months, and it almost made it worth the pre-empting of Boston Legal! (I said almost.)
Cheer #1—Decorum. Our country has rarely been more divided between Red and Blue states, but on SOTU night, we applaud our democracy. There was applause for all of the Supreme Court judges, even though Senators in the room voted against some of them. There was applause for the President’s Cabinet members, even though their policies run directly opposed to the platforms of nearly half of the Congress members. There was applause for Ms. Pelosi, even though her liberalism is out of step even with others in her party, let alone the Republicans. And, there was applause for the President from both sides of the aisle as he entered the room and several times during the speech.
Cheer #2—Inspiration. There were several moments of special inspiration. The first was President Bush’s welcome of the first “Madam Speaker,” which was almost obligatory, but then he made a non-obligatory second mention, which included tributes to her as well as her father, Congressman Thomas D'Alesandro, Jr. It was heartfelt and warm, and having met the President twice, I recognized this tone in him and knew he “was himself” on this important night. Also inspiring was the mention of several heroes including Dikembe Motumbo (“We’re proud to call this Son of the Congo a citizen of the United States,”), Julie Eigner-Clark, who created “Baby Einstein” and is now producing videos to find missing and exploited children, Wesley Autrey, the New York City subway hero, and Tommy Rieman of the U.S. Army who defended his gunner, refused medical attention, and stayed in the fight to earn a Silver Star.
Finally, I was inspired by the fact that President Bush kept it to 50 minutes, barely half as long as President Clinton’s last speech.
Cheer #3—Humor! I love these humorous moments:
Nancy Pelosi really working her lipstick, almost “Saturday Night Live”-ish in the background of the President;
Dick Cheney breaking out in an amazingly expressive and full, well, half-smile;
Hillary’s “yeah sure” look on several occasions;
Ted Kennedy looking like he was nodding off;
All of Congress standing to cut the “earmarked” special funds—let’s see who comes through and votes for it on the floor of Congress;
Dikembe Motumbo standing so tall it looked like everyone else was sitting;
Congressmen and Senators asking (and even falling over each other) for autographs and kisses on The President’s way in, even his opponents, which included the son of Jesse Jackson and some of the most liberal Congressmen in D.C.
Finally, we can all be inspired by the fact that two years from now, we’ll have a new leader that will have risen to power—not with guns or death—but through a wonderful process which is the elective process of The United States of America.
Oscar noms are in, and in the Best Picture category, the big winner is... the concept of being an outsider. Outside your comfort zone, undercover in a dangerous environment, out of place, or in literal exile, these films illustrate that to an extent--whether it's literal or figurative--we're all strangers in a strange land and respond to stories depicting the existential angst of the outsider.
Most obviously invoking the theme of diaspora is the Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett film called "Babel," which together with "Dreamgirls" (itself snubbed for Best Picture but boasting eight nominations) leads the contest in the number of nominations. Pitt and Blanchett portray tourists on a vacation gone seriously wrong: They find themselves out of their environment and in danger, and are among four groups of people whose lives and destinies are thrown together by fate, society, and circumstance. The title itself conveys a sense of confusion, an inability to communicate, and the feeling of utter exile.
Indie favorite "Little Miss Sunshine" takes a family of outsiders--including but not limited to a deluded father, a porn-happy but encouraging grandpa (Alan Arkin, nominated for Best Supporting Actor), and the understatedly miserable Proust scholar uncle played by Steve Carell--and puts them in a decrepit van for a road trip. They are united in their goal to bring young Olive (young Best Supporting Actress nominee Abigail Breslin) to a girls' beauty/talent pageant, a freakshow to which Olive, herself an uncompromisingly singular girl, wants to belong, even when she so clearly is above the creepy, manufactured culture of artificial, premature, pre-pubescent beauty and sameness.
"Letters from Iwo Jima," Clint Eastwood's latest, tells "the untold story of the Japanese soldiers and their general who, 61 years ago, defended against the invading American forces on the island of Iwo Jima" (source: official film website). In the "tribute to people who lost lives on both sides of the conflict" (and therefore is largely in Japanese with English subtitles), Eastwood is trying to tell "the other side" of the story behind the bloody battle. (The American side is depicted in Eastwood's "Flags of Our Fathers.")
"The Departed," an all-star, mostly male cast of strong leads (Best Supporting Actor nominee Mark Wahlberg, along with Martin Sheen, Jack Nicholson, Alec Baldwin) sporting Boston accents that are varying degrees of accurate-sounding (but that possibly should have qualified the picture for Best Foreign Film). The task of carrying the themes of deception and feigning allegiance to a cause on both sides falls to the boyish emotional doppelgangers Leonardo DiCaprio and Matt Damon, the double agents trapped by their baggage within their circumstances, with each working in exile to get back to a life that he wants and deserves.
And then there's "The Queen," a post-Diana's death portrait of Queen Elizabeth, the reigning English royal whose role in England becomes largely antiquate
d and unnecessary when compared to the emergingly more prominent role of the prime minister. In a world that has been irrevocably altered by the tragic accident, this fictionalized version of what happened within the palace walls showcases a queen trapped in a dead zone between history and modern life.
In addition, there's something interesting happening over in best adapted screenplay, where we've got the ultimate outsider-insider-outsider: a mockumentary featuring a British Jewish comedian playing a Kazakh anti-Semite fictional journalist who goes to engage in "cultural learnings of America for make glorious benefit Kazakhstan," in the process exposing anti-Semitic and homophobic leanings in this country and--I am confident in saying this, even without research--exposing way more of himself than has ever been included in an Oscar-nominated screenplay.
The layers of inside-outside do seem most complex in the film that many people will tag as this season's least likely contender. But I always root for the underdog, even if he wears a putridly green thong bathing suit. And besides, we live in a world where Eminem and Three-Six Mafia have already won Oscars. If Borat wins an Oscar (even for Best Adapted Screenplay), we might have to acknowledge a coming cultural apocalypse that will have originated among Academy outsiders.
posted by Esther Kustanowitz @ 10:44 AM | Permalink |
I read the rumblings in the trade papers about how the dysfunctional family comedy "Little Miss Sunshine" was going to sneak its way into the Oscar nominations, but I was still disappointed that the rumors became reality in the early morning hours today. Granted, 2006 was a weak year for movies, in my opinion, but honestly, the fact that the movie received nominations in every single major category is a little shocking. "Sunshine" is unworthy of a golden statue for two main reasons: First, the tiny bit of redemption at the end of the movie is not worth the 90-minutes of sludge--and I found it to be mostly highly unrealistic sludge at that--to get there, and secondly, giving the nod to a narcissistic, nihilistic movie like this left other redemptive performances out of the limelight.
Does the Academy really think a little girl (nominee Abigail Breslin) prancing onstage to "Superfreak" translates into an Oscar-worthy performance over touching performances by Maggie Gyllenhaal and Maria Bello in "World Trade Center" or Julianne Moore in "Children of Men"? If they wanted to recognize a comedienne, why not nominate the brilliant Catherine O'Hara in "For Your Consideration"? By the same token, Alan Arkin's over-the-top performance doesn't really rate in comparison to many other overlooked performances, such as critically-acclaimed Ken Watanabe's turn in "Letters of Iwo Jima" or even Ben Affleck's role in "Hollywoodland."
Oh , and a little side note to my fellow blogger, Esther: Do you hear those hoofbeats? That's the four horsemen of the cultural apocaplyse bearing down on us, because Borat will most assuredly take home an Oscar for its lewd and crude screenplay. Between "Sunshine" and "Borat," perhaps lewd and crude will be Oscar's theme this year.
One of the few times a year I plant myself on my couch and only leave for bathroom breaks is during the first few episodes of "American Idol." Am I interested in this year's crop of talented singers, hoping to get a glimpse of the next big star? No way! I'm in it strictly to watch no-talent people get a wake-up call.
Some might say I'm a horrible person for laughing as other people's dreams are crushed, and that that this season is particularly "mean." And, I must admit, when "Idol" started airing the worst-of-the-worst auditions, I'd squirm in embarrassment for those who were rejected. But now, I just can't wait to see how delusional so much of America is.
I don't think I'm a bad person for watching the try-outs and I certainly don't think Simon and company are too harsh on the rejected. By now, everyone knows the judges are there to be critical, not to make friends. So if they can't take the cold hard truth, they shouldn't be trying out. What I do think is horrible is that so many people set their friends and family up for a brutal and very public humiliation by lavishing them with false hope.
I don't think telling someone who is tone-deaf that they'll never be able to score a legimate record deal is a bad thing. (Let's forget about the William Hung situation for a moment, shall we?). America--and in particular "American Idol"--is spreading a culture of lies, and we, as a society need to decide one thing: Should we all live pretending like we can truly be anything we want to be, or should we be honest with each other, and ourselves, and admit that we can't do everything we might want to do?
Throughout the initial competition, I heard such self-proclaimed accolades as, "My co-workers pushed me to audition because they think I'm great," "My parents think I'm really talented," "I think I sound like Christina Aguilera" (um, no you don't), "My friends think it's awesome the way I do that thing with my hand while I sing" coming from horrendously vocally-challenged, camera-unfriendly performers.
Exhibit A: Darwin "Mischa" Reedy. Wearing a black skirt, black tights, white sneakers, gold silk-like long-sleeved shirt, and no bra supporting her FFF-sized bosom, this sloppy student/writer called her look "sexy," and all I could do was gag. She proceeded to sing "Don't Cha" by the Pussycat Dolls, whose album should have been released with a label on it that says, "Only the beautiful people allowed to sing along." As Mishca awkwardly side-step dances, she whispers such seductive lines as, "Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me/ Don't cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me" with a monotoned voice not heard of since Ben Stein's performance in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off."
As she was given the boot, Mischa and her look-alike mom (her biggest supporter, of course) made a number of excuses for her poor performance, most of which I didn't hear because I was laughing so hard. I don't blame Mishca for her poor audition, though--I blame her mom. If she had put as much effort into honing Mischa's other talents (they apparently co-wrote a novella together, so why not focus on her literary skills?) maybe she wouldn't have made her the laughing stock of all of America.
Another girl, who unjustifiably called herself "Hotness," claimed she was extremely talented (her friends said so) yet couldn't sing a note, wouldn't stop singing when ask
ed to numerous times, and then cursed out the judges. Chica, your friends lied to you.
Another performer was a young guy named Kenneth--who could easily pass as Gollum for Halloween without much effort. Ken decided to accompany his song with a boy-band-inspired dance, which only made him look more ridiculous. He claims his friends think he's great. Ken, your friends lied to you.
Now, I understand, most people want their 15 minutes of fame. And it's even pretty cool when you get to live vicariously through your semi-famous friends: "Hey, my roommate played a corpse in last week's episode of "Law and Order." However, when those close to us ask for our opinions about their outfits, or their cooking, or their writing, or their singing ability, why do we so often fail to tell them our true feelings? Why are we so willing to completely destroy the self-esteem of the people we care about when it's inevitable that one day someone not-so-candid will tell them the truth? Is it because we're scared of being the ones to hurt their feelings? Probably, but whatever happened to being honest without being mean?
Another contestant with no singing ability, Amy Salgado, said her husband wasn't supportive of her coming on the show, saying she was wasting her time. I don't know whether Mr. Salgado went about telling his wife she shouldn't try out in a nice, "I still love you even if you can't sing" kind of way, but if he did, he should be applauded for doing what so many people failed to do.
So next time you're out at a karaoke bar and your friends say your version of "Since U Been Gone" was waaaay better than Kelly Clarkson's and that you could totally be the next "American Idol," ask yourself these questions:
1. Is this friend always honest with me--even telling me things I don't want to hear sometimes? 2. Does he/she like embarrassing me at any opportunity? 3. Has he/she had one too many apple martinis?
It’s not often that you finish off a film at two o’clock in the morning only to find yourself sitting in the same theater 6 hours later to begin the next.Well, at Sundance – what else are you there for?Although the celebration of independent film exists as the centerpiece of this two week festival, I question whether or not it is the primary result.Up until this point (less than 24 hours after arrival), watching two significant films has only been an excuse to experiencing something beyond the films themselves.
Only 12 hours ago, myself and a few friends were fortunate to obtain a few tickets to the documentary War/Dance, one of two films pre-bought (ThinkFilm) prior to its arrival at Sundance.Roughly an hour ago, we concluded the viewing of the feature film Save Me, the story of a young man’s journey through the 12 step program of a Christian “ex-gay” ministry.(Yes, a program that “removes” one’s gayness).Rather than review the films themselves, I would like to make a few observations surrounding these films and what I am suddenly discovering as the mysterious “spirit of Sundance.”
Two words come to mind:Story and Conversation.Although movies are often deemed definitively as “entertainment”, it has been far from a conclusive experience once the credits have rolled.The stories presented in War/Dance – of Northern Uganda children escaping from the terror of senseless killings and abductions via the art of music and dance – are both inspiring and incomprehensible.As my own story was placed in stark contrast to these realities, I was left grasping for the same life, freedom, and joy that these children embody.These are profoundly different stories midst profoundly similar pursuits.
This morning, after watching Save Me , a Q & A session ensued with the cast, director, and producers.Because the subject matter of homosexuality and the Christian faith are often catalysts to heated debates and “right” and “wrong” language, this morning’s experience was all the more intriguing.It was at the film’s conclusion that I found myself, a professed “Christian”, surrounded by the tears from numerous individuals, both gay and straight—completely distraught by what I had just experienced. I could not help but be embarrassed of my faith and its “typical” response to the gay community.
However, as actor Chad Allen and actress Judith Light shared, I was taken aback by the non-threatening posture of the cast and crew (and the film for that matter).Nobody was enraged.Nobody was protesting.And nobody was blaming.Light comme
nted on her own transformation within the role—having to “stop judging [Evangelicals].”Producer Herb Hamsher claimed the film as a “conversation”—one that differs from the typical dialogue that stays inside one’s own community with the wool pulled over the eyes.Hamsher expounded by stating, “We want to open the conversation and speak over the wool.”This was a profound gesture on behalf of the filmmakers, who had clearly succeeded in creating a diffused space of interaction, grace, and reconciliation—an environment that the Christian community often fall short in creating.
It was here that I realized the beauty of Sundance.Sure, it’s a “festival” of independent film.But, it seems to be more much more than this.If the first 24 hours are remotely telling —the celebration of both story and conversation are front and center. The conversation goes far beyond the theater.Whether on the bus with an actress from London, art students from inner city L.A., or the volunteer from Arizona, there is no doubt this nature is embraced by the broader Sundance audience, the question is – will the Christian community follow suit?I can’t speak for anyone else, but I’m throwing my hat in the ring.
- Bob Davidson
Bob Davidson, Fuller Theology Student and Sundance participant. To contact: bob @ mypopculture [dot] com
Okay, so Internet polls are scientifically suspect--only the Oscars are as susceptible to email campaigns, multiple votes, and people voting blindly for artists they've never seen. But the audience for MSN's Music Artist of the Year is so large and broad, with more than 270,000 people voting, that we're confident in congratulating Christian praise rocker David Crowder and his band for being named the web portal's top act of 2006. "They've single-handedly redefined what contemporary Christian music should sound like," said MSN in announcing the award.
Fine, but you don't beat out Christina Aguilera, Prince, and Kenny Chesney by redefining only your own genre. Crowder's beatific roar is irrepressible and inspiring regardless of what you believe, and his wholly committed, unabashed praise for God (as opposed to the sometimes-furtively faithful lyrics of his fellow CCMers) makes his music genuine rock and roll.
Are the "American Idol" judges mean--and getting meaner by the season--or should contestants' family and friends be more honest in advising them to stay off national TV? Our bloggers Ellen Leventry and Dena Ross debate this very topic, but what do you think? Watch these videos and use the comments box to let us know.
Given our cultural obsession with the new and the novel, perhaps nothing is as daunting as following initial success. The sophomore slump can hamper creative efforts and lead to artistic blocks or overreaching.
In 2005, director Craig Brewer (at right, with me) hit the Sundance jackpot with "Hustle and Flow." Brewer's simmering tale of a pimp who dreams of rap stardom sold to MTV Films for $9 million. "Hustle and Flow" also won the Sundance Audience Award, receiving rousing ovations. It elevated actor Terrence Howard as a suave leading man and took Memphis' Three-6 Mafia to a surprising Oscar win for their anthemic song, "It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp."
Lost amidst the hoopla was a smoldering redemption story. DJay the pimp decides to change his life after a transcendent musical moment inside a church. Sitting in a lonely pew, DJay sheds a tear and starts recording his raps. "Hustle and Flow" follows a specific Memphis milieu, merging hip hop music and black spirituality.
In 2007, Brewer returns here to Sundance with his follow-up film, "Black Snake Moan." He is working with a bigger budget and bigger stars, Samuel L. Jackson and Christina Ricci. The soundtrack deals with the blues rather than rap. "Black Snack Moan" also pushes the provocation further, combining issues of race, sexuality, and power. Will redemptive themes emerge amidst all the button pushing?
Brewer has already gone to great lengths to overcome the sophomore slump. Promotional pieces emphasize that "Black Snake Moan" is his fourth feature (even though few have seen or heard of what preceded "Hustle and Flow"). Brewer's situation demonstrates how hard it is to build lasting art within a society that favors the new and undiscovered. Can ancient virtues of character prevail in an industry that seeks the next big thing? We'll find out at the premiere of "Black Snake Moan" on Wednesday night.
--Posted by Craig Detweiler
Craig Detweiler is a screenwriter and director of the Reel Spirituality Institute at Fuller Theological Seminary.
How do you bring a little fun back into fundamentalism? By making a sitcom, as Zarqa Nawaz is fond of saying.
Nawaz is the creator of the new Canadian TV series "Little Mosque on the Prairie." The show debuted Jan. 9 on CBC TV--to unexpectedly strong ratings--and airs Mondays and Wednesdays at 9 p.m. and 8 p.m., respectively. As the title suggests, "Little Mosque on the Prairie" looks at the small Muslim community in a fictional Canadian prairie town called Mercy.
In the opening episode, we meet Amaar Rashid (Zaib Shaikh), a young lawyer from Toronto on his way to Mercy to follow his true calling--becoming an imam. Except that a cell-phone conversation with his mom--full of references to "suicide" (the career variety), "dropping a bomb" (meaning, the news of his vocational switch), and "Allah's plan" (ditto)--get him hauled off by the police.
Meanwhile, in Mercy, the local Muslims are getting tired of the old imam, Baber Siddiqui (Manoj Sood), who rails that liquorice, wine, gum, and rye bread are Western traps to seduce Muslims to drink alcohol. The community can't wait for the new imam to lead the congregation.
They're also fighting other battles between the old guard and the new. While Baber wants to use a Costco telescope to sight the moon to mark the beginning of Ramadan, the more secular Yasir Hamoudi suggests checking out the website moonsighting.org to "let the starvation begin." Similarly, Yasir's wife, Sarah Hamoudi (Sheila McCarthy), who converted to Islam, would like to serve up cucumber sandwiches to break the fast, but she squares off with the traditional goat curry dished out by Fatima Dinssa (Arlene Duncan).
The aim was not to make a socio-political show, Nawaz says in an interview, but to make a good comedy. As a sitcom, the show has to deliver its laughs to get its high ratings, otherwise it will get cancelled, she points out.
"You can't please everyone," says Nawaz, when questioned about the criticism she's received. "I'm just a comedy writer. I am not making a giant social statement. Ray Romano wrote about his elder brother who lived with parents. This show's about everyday Muslim people, who live in the prairies."
Nawaz whispers as she talks. She doesn't want to disturb the scenes being shot in the 'diner' stage of the set, so the interview is being conducted in the 'mosque' stage. A hockey baseboard with the worn-out lettering spelling "Mercy Midgets" is near the back.
"That's the barrier the mosque puts up," Nawaz explains the plot of the second episode of the show. "They just use some scrap piece of wood."
Much of "Little Mosque on the Prairie" draws from Nawaz's own fish-out-of-water experiences moving from Toronto to Regina, Saskatchewan. A filmmaker who has made several comedic shorts, including "BBQ Muslims" and "Death Threat," Nawaz hit upon the idea of "Little Mosque on the Prairie" when she was making her documentary "Me and the Mosque."
When a barrier to divide men and women was established in the little Regina mosque that Nawaz attended, she traveled across Canada and spoke with scholars and lay people about the issue. During the process, she wondered what would a mosque led by a second-generation Muslim Canadian imam look like.
"Serious subjects make great fodder for comedy," says Nawaz. "The world is getting a little bit crazier. We have to find humor in the situation to be able to deal with it."
Some of the series' humor comes from quintessential Canadiana, such as the way Torontonians are disliked in other parts of the country. On the other hand, there is also equal opportunity for stereotype ribbing:
the right-wing radio talk show host Fred Tupper is as much a source of amusement as the extremist old-school imam Baber.
While the show proposes to find comedy in the quirks of our--in this case many Muslims'--everyday lives, the debut episode depended more on clever writing. The punning zingers, making 'a big meal out of' the iftar feast, for instance--were sometimes wearisome. Teasers of upcoming episodes suggest the punning will continue: In one episode a rebellious teenager tries the tactic of "shop and awe" against her father, Baber.
As for the actors, a few of them seem daunted by the show's unusual premise, and are far too earnest in portraying their characters. That may well be first-show jitters or a result of the unbelievable buzz about "Little Mosque on the Prairie." After all, the show had been covered by national and international media, even before it aired.
The reactions to the show have been mixed--ranging from lauding it as a truly Canadian show revelling in multiculturalism, to dismaying at the show's (uniquely Canadian) political correctness.
The first episode drew 2.1 million viewers. Will it keep up the numbers, and bring a little fun back in fundamentalism? Only the TV seasons can tell.
It's hard to recall the last time the Sundance Film Festival made any real noise--buzz, yes, but nothing like the howl sent up this year about "Hounddog," an independent film starring Dakota Fanning as an urchin who is raped by an older boy. Fanning, who will turn 13 next month, is also reportedly scantily clad in some scenes, while two other children strip in another.
The usual watchdogs on the right have raised alarms about decency--Ted Baehr of the Christian Film and Television Commission put none-too-fine a point on the matter last week, calling the scenes "pedophilia"--while others, like child-advocate (and former Mickey Mouse Club actor) Paul Petersen, have said Fanning will be scarred. The mainstream media have even telegraphed their queasiness by implying that Fanning's mother and agent are exploiting Dakota in a blatant bid for a paycheck-boosting Oscar.
The concern for Fanning is the most curious feature of this debate. Anyone who's been on a movie set knows that the technical chore of film photography is so distracting and piecemeal that maintaining a straight face--not surviving any emotional intensity--is the greatest challenge. The violent or sexual scene the audience sees has often been interrupted by lunch, naps, and bouts of laughter.
And it's not for sure that the audience will see a rape at all. According to director Deborah Kampmeier, Dakota's rape scene consists mainly of a close-up of her facial reactions. "I didn't shoot flesh against flesh," Kampmeier has said, "because I wanted to capture a soul going through this experience, not a body."
Why, then, show it at all? Kampmeier, whose previous film, "Virgin," also dealt with rape, seems to have something to say about sexual assault. My suspicion is that she believes that depicting the crime on film kills the mind's ability to confuse it with sex. Think: Would Kubrick's "Lolita" have been as wicked and sophisticated if we'd seen Humbert putting the moves on his victim? Would Humbert have been able to elicit sympathy for his feelings of love? The box office receipts of the decidedly more graphic 1997 version with Jeremy Irons suggest that the answer is no.
This is how they touted "Color of the Cross": a film that will completely change the way we view Jesus and the crucifixion. But, instead of changing my heart, it hardened it for every second of the movie's hour-and-29-minute runtime. The filmmakers took one too many liberties with Jesus and his disciples, from allowing Peter to slap Thaddeus on the butt to depicting a booty-call-esque relationship between Judas Iscariot and Mary Magdalene. In the midst of these liberties was a poorly written script which found Jesus speaking to a sheep--which happened to be black--and saying, "If only everyone were so accepting... Black sheep."
So now the film is down for the count and still hasn't given any factual evidence for why the filmmakers believe the Messiah was black. The weak evidence that was provided throughout was not enough to convince me. The most awful of the cases was that Mary and Joseph were turned away from the inn because they were black and the reason for Jesus' crucifixion was mostly because he was black. Those two reasons seemed more like the modern-day cries of discrimination than a justification of the savior's race in a time when people were set in their own ways.
I believe the real failure of the movie was trying to qualify the ethnicity of Jesus. I admit that there was a time in my life when I believed that Jesus was black, and then a time when I believed he was white, and now I am in the season--which I believe will outlast the others--where my mind is made up. It's a highly personal issue, and I aim to keep it that way. It is up to each person to draw their own conclusion and not up to a movie to try and enforce a particular belief upon the masses and sell it as truth.
The same goes for "Passion of the Christ" and its predecessors. But what made "Passion of the Christ" the better movie, in my eyes, is that Mel Gibson wasn't trying to justify Jesus' race, he was trying to justify the cause of the crucifixion by following the scriptures.
Faith is more than skin deep, and Jesus is more than skin deep as well. To try to put human understanding on something so supernatural is, frankly, almost belittling his existence--and we've already done enough of that. If we really want to talk about the real color of the cross, it was painted in the blood of a man, and last I checked, blood is red regardless of race.
A couple of years ago, Tyler Perry came out of nowhere--at least for white Americans--with the smashing success of his film "Diary of a Mad Black Woman." A well-known playwright and actor among African Americans, Perry was suddenly one of the most in-demand filmmakers in Hollywood, and now every film he releases is big news. His latest, "Tyler Perry's Daddy's Little Girls"--yes, he rates having his own name in the official film title, a la "Mel Gibson's Apocalypto"--opens on Valentine's Day. Click here to see an exclusive clip from the new movie, introduced for Beliefnet users by Perry himself.
The season premiere of "American Idol's" sixth season was the show's most-watched opener ever, with nearly 15 percent of the country watching at one point in the evening. So, is it any coincidence then that the Minnesota auditions featured on the show were some of the most egregious, deafening tryouts of the contest's history, being dubbed "The Midworst" by media outlets? As judge Simon Cowell says to many a contestant: No.
In fact, the producers are counting on the rubber-necking watchers, courting them with ads devoted to the musical misfits and zooming in on the horrified, wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights stares of the judges. (When you can see the whites of Paula Abdul's usually sleepy eyes, you know you're going to be in for something truly awful.)
The producers must have been salivating while witnessing the Minneapolis massacre, knowing that they had more than enough choice talentless tidbits to use in ads for the show. The following evening, Seattle unseated Minneapolis as the worst audition city ever, being dubbed a "vacuum of talent" by preternaturally peppy host Ryan Seacrest.
Unless you've been living in a cave or in one of the countries that does not have its own version of "Idol," the show's format is already familiar. The first several weeks focus on the national tryouts and then they bring the chosen few finalists to Hollywood, put them through a song and dance bootcamp, and whittle them down to the final 12. Then the competition really begins.
Minneapolis yielded such characters as Troy the Urban Amish guy, the opera singer who channeled "Rocky's" Apollo Creed, and the contestant who decided that he needed to go get a drink of water and walked out of the audition, only to return later to more than lackluster reviews, such as, "What do you think we are looking for, a 2-year-old who can't sing?"
But why would an audience want to sit through two hours of tone-deaf jugglers and diva-wannabes? For the same reason people watch "Jerry Springer" and that NBC just gave Springer's "bodyguard" Steve his own talk show: schadenfreude. The German word means "shameful joy," but no one has any shame about it these days. In other words, people love to watch trainwrecks.
I remember reading an interview in some celebrity magazine wherein the interviewee said that, as much as people are rooting for you on the way up, they are rooting more for your failure on the way down. With "Idol," this satisfaction is instantaneous; we don't have to wait years for the cycle to unfold a-la one-time Hollywood golden boy Ben Affleck circa "Gigli." Humiliation is served up in quick 30-second soundbytes, perfectly packaged for consumption; a collective smack-down for those who dare think they are talented enough to earn our adoration.
On the other hand, there are those, like myself, who watch the auditions with one hand on the remote, ready to change the channel the moment these musical miscreants come on. Not because of their lack of talent, but because it physically pains us to watch the contestants' eventual humiliation, ridiculous tirades about the unfairness of the judges (the show has been on six years, afterall, so they shouldn't be surprised), and the heart-breaking crying jags shown in all their snotty glory.
Love or hate the audition rounds, every once in a while a sob story can turn into a success. Just ask Wiliam Hung.
Edgy, independent, artsy. Over the past 25 years, the Sundance Film Festival has become the place to discover new talent and launch original films. From first-time filmmakers searching for their big break to established stars seeking "indie" credibility, thousands of filmgoers descend upon Park City, Utah, for 10 days of cinematic bliss. Sundance, an invigorating blend of art and commerce, has sparked surprising phenomena, from "The Blair Witch Project" to Oscar contender "Little Miss Sunshine."
One word rarely associated with Sundance is "spiritual."
Yet, the best independent films offer profound depictions of the human condition. They ask ultimate questions about equality and injustice. Like the biblical prophets, Sundance filmmakers report from the margins, focusing their cameras upon overlooked outsiders. Voices emerge from victims of abuse in China, Uganda, and Iraq. Indie filmmakers often court controversy, wrestling with gay rights and holy wars. While Hollywood films offer reassurance and happy endings, independent films often comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.
For the next week, I'll be leading a coalition of students from Fuller Theological Seminary and Biola University--and blogging here in Idol Chatter about the experience. The WindRider Forum brings together future filmmakers and ministers to join the cultural conversation surrounding Sundance. We'll have almost 100 correspondents crisscrossing the festival, reviewing movies, highlighting the most moving, relevant, and even spiritual.
We'll gather each morning at Park City's Mountain Vineyard Christian Fellowship as a class, to compare notes before fanning out in search of the next Quentin Tarantino or Steven Soderbergh. We'll also be looking for unexpected, breakout hits like "Whale Rider" and "Napoleon Dynamite." The more insightful and original films at Sundance are often documentaries like "Super Size Me," "March of the Penguins," and "An Inconvenient Truth." We'll view films with an eye toward their spiritual themes and theological possibilities.
We'll also feature plenty of celebrity sightings. Sundance offers unparalleled access to stars and filmmakers. Last time, I bumped into Steve Buscemi (in the photo above, he's on the left, I'm on the right), exactly the kind of gritty, original and slightly off center celebrity who drives the slate at Sundance. Buscemi stars in two films premiering this weekend that comment upon celebrity culture. In "Delirious," Buscemi plays a paparazzo, angling for photographs of the famous. In "Interview," he portrays a serious journalist assigned to cover a soap opera star (played by Sienna Miller, no stranger to the gossip columns).
Between appearances in Hollywood fare like "The Island," Buscemi is quietly directing his own movies that deal with the darker side of life. He capitalizes upon his celebrity within Hollywood, to make smaller, personal films (that comment upon their own dilemmas) like "Interview."
If the biblical Proverbs offer a prescription for how to make life work, Buscemi and the Sundance filmmakers offer stories closer to Job or Ecclesiastes. What happens when we don't get a happy ending? When things don't work out? These are life's greatest questions and artists' enduring source material. Sundance is fueled by both our dreams and disappointments. Our WindRider Forum crew will navigate Sundance in search of an elusive but essential hope.
Check back here regularly to read about the experience.
--Posted by Craig Detweiler
Craig Detweiler is a screenwriter and director of the Reel Spirituality Institute at Fuller Theological Seminary.
As the red carpet season officially started with Monday's Golden Globe Awards, I have decided it is finally time to announce my personal picks for the best films of 2006. Granted, there are two films I have yet to see that I believe probably would have made my list ("Half Nelson" and "Little Children"), but in general, my picks aren't exactly tracking with what will probably take home the gold statues come Oscar time. So, in no particular order, here they are:
Brick: This low-budget indie film is perhaps the only intelligent teen thriller I have seen--ever-- and it gives a thoughtful millenialist perspective on the desire to love and be loved unconditionally.
Monster House: The best, smartest, and freshest family movie of the year that seems to have been overlooked on some other Beliefnet lists.
Inside Man: It takes quite a bit to stump me, but this heist movie always kept me guessing, and was socially conscious to boot.
For Your Consideration: I believe in the healing power of laughter, and this was the funniest movie of the year, as director Christopher Guest exposes the humor of human frailties without exploiting them.
Children of Men: While not completely satisfying, this movie is still a creative reflection on the value of human life.
The Queen: An original premise, brilliant acting, and layered nuances make this movie a gem.
World Trade Center: While "United 93" only gave me a panic attack, this 9/11 story filled me with hope in my fellow man.
On this week in which we honor Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., I am growing tired of the disrespect that is tolerated in our culture--and even promoted--toward an individual who has had a far greater effect on the spiritual lives of countless Americans since even before the foundation of our country. His name is Jesus Christ.
A recent bit on "Late Night With Conan O'Brien" has brought this to light.
"Oh I love you Jesus, but only as a friend," sang the "homophobe country western singer," as introduced by O'Brien. "You touched my heart but I hope that's where the touchin' ends."
And as if that weren't enough, the bit went on:
"You're always lookin' over me When I need a higher power. But you better look at somethin' else When I'm in the shower."
I can't believe phones weren't ringing off the hook and that O'Brien still has a job! Perhaps it's because his show has become so irrelevant. Perhaps people of the Christian faith just don't tune into him. Worse off, perhaps Christians are so used to their leaders being insulted (politicians, athletes, music and movie stars, etc.) that they don't even notice when the Savior becomes the target of the same stuff.
A recent story at freerepublic.com brought this to light, and told about one leader who's doing something about it. "The idea that anyone would think about the Son of God in this way is simply appalling," said Douglas R. Scott, Jr., president of Life Decisions International (LDI) said. "The inferences that permeate the song are utterly disgusting."
Mr. Scott has written to Kevin Reilly, president of NBC Entertainment, copying Robert Wright (Chairman of Universal) and Jeffrey Immelt (Chairman of GE). I hope more followers of Christ—and people who respect and revere God—to do the same.
It's one thing to make fun of Christians, but a completely different thing to insult Jesus Christ. To do the former is levity and usually well-deserved. To do the latter is at the very least grossly irreverent, if not biting the hand we ask to feed us.
My female friends and I often muse that if we were given a personal chef, a personal trainer, and a personal hair and makeup person, we too could look as good as any starlet out there. Apparently, though, another type of personal assistant is needed to attain the immaculately kept mien of Madonna: A personal spiritual advisor.
MSNBC.com reports that "Kabbalah big-wig Eitan Yardeni has moved to London, according to an insider, to help oversee the Material Girl’s personal and professional life."
Says the source, Her Madgesty "sort of can't make a move without" the Kabbalah Centre's celebrity liason. Sure, folks have had gurus and personal confessors (Confessions on a Dance Floor, anybody?) for ages, but it's sad to hear that the woman who once told a generation to "Express Yourself, Don't Repress Yourself" allegedly can't make a decision without the aid of a spiritual Svengali.
Critics often throw around the term "feel-good movie" to describe a film that warms your heart to the very core, but "Stomp the Yard" was forgotten in that lot.
The story follows DJ (Columbus Short), a troubled youth who witnesses the death of his brother, to the campus of Truth University, a historically black university. He gets into college with no questions asked and within the first 15 minutes of his arrival he finds the girl of his dreams. He then spends the next hour and 45 minutes chasing said girl through registration lines, across campus, and finally into the fray of a stepping competition on the "yard"--another word for any open area on campus where fraternities and sororities roam. This is where DJ meets his competition, a fraternity brother played by a much-too-old Darrin Henson of "Darrin's Dance Grooves" fame. It is here that the plot heats up, as DJ begins to show us what he's working with, courtesy of his own dance grooves.
What DJ lacks in personality, he more than makes up for in good looks and popping and locking--see Darren's Dance Groove--and after seeing his moves, two of the major frats on campus begin to vie for his attention. The rest of the movie is spent giving us snippets of DJ's life as a fraternity "bruh." We watch him straining to sit because of a night of probable paddling--a rite of passage among black Greeks, we watch as he "crosses the burning sands," and of course, we watch him whip his old-school, stick-in-the-mud frat into shape for the National Step Show, which is more colossal than any step show known to man. That is where the movie really falls into place. The cinematography becomes breathtaking, the soundtrack is bone-rattling, the dance sequences make you want to jump into the screen and join in, and to top it off, there is more Grade A Beef than you could cook on the 4th of July.
If you are looking for a profound movie about black Greek life along the lines of Spike Lee's "School Daze," you will not find it here. This movie wasn't meant to be groundbreaking nor was it meant to incite as much controversy as it has among the black Greek community. It was just meant to tell a story of a young man, who against all odds, came out on top--and it has more heart than the sum of its parts.
I think the media has been propagating a dramatic myth for a long, long time and it does a disservice to our culture and our country. I wish someone would please tell them that I am not an EvangeliCatholic, although they treat me like one and may have convinced you that I am one. Let me explain.
CNN ran a story yesterday about John McCain courting the religious right through a meeting with James Dobson. It was typical of how certain evangelicals are picked as some sort of "media darlings" and usually featured as representatives of religious conservatives. Dr. Dobson is a gifted leader with a significant following, to be sure, but he's not the EvangeliPope of the First Organized Evangelical Church of the World. Nor is Jerry Falwell, nor Pat Robertson, nor anyone else. How do I know? Because we don’t have one!
Evangelicals aren’t organized like the Catholic Church or, for that matter, the Mormon Church. While those organizations have one tax number, one person at the top, and an organizational structure for which the overseers hold authority and responsibility. This includes spokespersons for the Church.
I’ve never listened to a Jerry Falwell sermon. I’ve never watched a Pat Robertson show for more than a minute. Dr. James Dobson does not speak for me. I don’t know anyone who tunes into Joel Osteen. I think the world of Rick Warren but I also have high regard for Jim Wallis and his team, though he and Rev. Warren hold to different theologies. That’s one of the beauties of evangelicalism: We believe one can pursue God spiritually without needing an intermediary who speaks to God for us. Therefore, there also isn't anyone who can speak to the media as the sole representative for the hundreds of denominations within the movement.
I'd like to see a new trend, one which features the true heroes of evangelicalism: the pastors, ministers, rectors, and other caregivers of local churches who work in many non-glorious ways with the members of their churches and those they're reaching out to. It would be a truer representation of the diversity of evangelicalism, and certainly a credible expression of the large mosaic that is the current American evangelical movement.
Donna Freitas is a gifted writer of spiritual insight, but her recent blog posting is dead wrong (literally) on both "24" as well as Shel Silverstein's wonderful book, "The Giving Tree."
If you missed it, "24's" two-night debut again showcased Keifer Sutherland's Jack Bauer sacrificing himself for the sake of a greater cause. Donna may not like that, but for her to pan Jack as the "sacrifical lamb" in the current plot would be to have, say, panned Seinfeld for doing monologues in every episode, or panning "Cheers" for setting every episode in the bar.
Since Day One, Jack Bauer has woven a strangely nuanced ethical line, where he's sacrificed his family, his friends, his career, his freedom, and eventually his life for the sake of his moral center: the defense of the United States of America against terrorism. It may seem old, but I though it was an ingenious plot development that he quickly got to the place of saying, "I don't know how to do this anymore."
Donna may be right that the "sacrificial lamb" idea gets old, but perhaps that's part of the problem in our culture: Is character no longer character just because it's not new or exciting?
"24" certainly has its work cut out for it as an entertainment product, since every season has raised the bar from the previous one. Who knows, it may indeed go from the sublime to the ridiculous. But for me, it's still hanging out in that tenuous middle.
As far as Silverstein's "The Giving Tree," it give us what every good little tale or fable does: a made-up story with a point to it, and I've used Silverstein's little story to help countless hundreds of audiences--from youth to executives--be reminded of our tendency to be so selfish and self-centered that we forget the joy that comes with the choice of a selfless act, and the enduring commitment required to sacrifice beyond what's comfortable.
And that is something that Jack Bauer has given us, attracting a following as significant as the paperback action heroes of generations past... at least so far.
Last night's Golden Globes ceremony included the usual reams of thank you's to casts and crews and lawyers and spouses and moms and kids and agents and Helen Mirren. The most moving speech by far was from the sincerely enthused America Ferrera of Ugly Betty, who thanked the girls who tell her she makes them feel worthy and beautiful. But I was interested to note that only three people thanked God, and they were all African-American: Jennifer Hudson, Eddie Murphy, and Forest Whitaker were the only ones to make room for a higher power in their speeches.
I haven't had a God-o-meter tuned in during past years, but now I wish I had. Was this year any different? Has God fallen out of favor with white Hollywood? Was God ever in favor with white Hollywood? What is it about African-American culture that makes it more acceptable to nod to God in a seamless and sanctioned way? And what makes it kind of uncool for white folks to do the same?
Are the latter actually less religious, or is it that they feel a certain stigma about acknowledging their religion in public? Or is it because when you're a minority who's made it Hollywood you know it must have something to do with more than will, talent, and luck--and even good agents and lawyers and casts and crews?
I have way more questions than answers on this. All of which were temporarily suspended when Sacha Baron Cohen gave his acceptance speech. That thud you heard around 10 or so? Jaws across the nation hitting the floor. More on that here. And the entire list of winners is here.
I looked forward to Sunday night's long awaited "24" premiere on Fox with the same eagerness as the show's most dedicated fans. But I couldn't help rolling my eyes at the onset of what promises to be yet another season of Jack (Kiefer Sutherland) playing the role of "sacrificial lamb."
As usual, the show dropped us into the middle of intense terrorist action, and our first hurdle was swallowing the idea that, after all of Jack's service and subsequent two years spent being tortured in a Chinese prison (last season ended dramatically with Jack's capture), the U.S. government is yet again ready to sell him down the river: trading his life for the capture of the alleged terrorist mastermind.
Jack's former CTU colleagues approached the matter with sadness, but also a kind of "we hope you don't mind, Jack, since your life is already in the toilet" and a "better you than us" casual attitude.
And what does Jack do? Agree to it! "I'd rather die for something than nothing," he says rather pathetically.
I've decided that Jack's character is a veritable "Giving Tree" of television personalities. Remember that terrible children's book by Shel Silverstein? The one with the kid who takes and takes and takes, and the tree that gives and gives and gives until there's nothing left but a stump for the boy to sit on? (Presumably it's a metaphor--albeit a messed-up one--for the child-parent relationship. Some people think it a beautiful book, but I've long thought it simply awful.)
Jack, as TV's "Giving Tree," so far seems to be nothing more than a stump of his former self. We'll have to see if he grows a few new shoots as the season moves forward.
The sexual-abuse scandal that once looked to bring the Catholic church’s hierarchy in Boston crashing down has died away. The former Boston archbishop, Cardinal Bernard Law, is comfortably esconced in a favorable position in Rome, and few of the radical propositions to end abuse--popularly elected bishops or married priests--have come to pass, or are on the horizon. The anger that sparked the scandal, however, is as alive as ever, and is on display in tonight's "Frontline" on PBS. In "The Hand of God," Joe Cultrera, a filmmaker once employed by the archdiocese to make fundraising videos, tells the story of his brother, Paul, who was sexually molested by Father Joseph Birmingham, a parish priest in Salem, Mass., in the mid-1960s. As a timely way to share the burden of those who still suffer, or as an introduction to those who didn’t pay attention five years ago, "The Hand of God" is a worthy way to spend 90 minutes.
The film has little new to say about the crisis, but Cultrera' s closeness to the victim unexpectedly makes his film more insightful than hypercharged media investigations of the time. Moving from an intimate memoir of growing up Catholic in the deeply devout Italian community in Salem to a "Roger & Me"-style confrontation of church leaders, "The Hand of God" explains how abuse could be concealed in the immigrant communities of Boston's Catholic faithful, which, in Cultrera's depiction, were as idyllic as they were isolated. Their innocence withstood even the uprisings of the '60s and the self-empowerment movements of the '70s. Paul Cutrera's internal battle against his molester continued until his distraught ex-wife, looking for answers to her marriage's demise, forces his fight into the light.
"The Hand of God" is hampered by a lack of on-screen interviews by church officials, who understandably declined to cooperate. Cultrera overcompensates with metaphors of dirty laundry, and images of cake-top statuettes of altar boys. Some of this descends to the level of pantomime and is more distracting than illuminating. It's the family interviews that communicate deftly what a spiritual disaster the crisis was, and how it far it is from being resolved, even if the broader public has moved on.
The passing of a great man's widow is often taken as a second opportunity to mourn the man himself, but when Alice Coltrane, widow of the sax giant John Coltrane, died late last week, it was her accomplishments, and her spiritual path, that filled her obits. A jazz pianist and harpist--the latter putting her in some rare company--Alice Coltrane already had a busy career as a composer and performer by the time she met John Coltrane in the early 1960s. It's been suggested that Alice, who eventually took McCoy Tyner's place in John's quartet, drove John to explore the outer limits of jazz.
Certainly, she was the more intrepid spiritual explorer. Both Coltranes came from devout Christian households, but after meeting Swami Satchidananda, Alice's music became a part of her discovery of the divine and Hinduism. Of her conversion, she said, "I felt I could serve in any way that God wished. If He wants you to do charity work or humanitarian work or however He wishes to utilize you, maybe just talking or giving musical concerts is fine."
Coltrane did release several albums of Indian chant, with titles like "Journey in Satchidananda" and "Huntington Ashram Monastery," but she served in other ways. In the mid-'70s she founded the Sai Anantam Ashram in Santa Monica, Calif., where, as Swami Turiyasangitananda and a follower of the Hindu saint Satya Sai Baba, she taught meditation.
On January 25th, HBO will air the documentary "Friends of God: A Road Trip With Alexandra Pelosi," which follows key people among the Christian evangelical right in America. Yes, Alexandra Pelosi, the filmmaker in question, is one of those Pelosis--her mother is none other than Nancy--and yes, one of those kep people she happened to follow is none other than Ted Haggard.
All of this documenting occurred before Ted Haggard's very public sex scandal and very public fall from grace as a leader of the evangelical movement in the U.S. It also happened before Ms. Pelosi's mom became the first woman Speaker of the House.
In her N.Y Times article "God, Mom and Country: A Filmmaker's Odyssey," Felicia R. Lee reports on Alexandra Pelosi's uncertainty and dismay that Haggard happened to be the focus of her film, and her worry that a large part of her target audience--evangelicals--won't tune in now that her mother has risen to such a prominent position in Congress on behalf of the Democrats:
People might love it or hate because of her mother or because of its association with Mr. Haggard, she said. But what she really wanted, Ms. Pelosi said, was to further the conversation about religion and culture... In the film Mr. Haggard explains the allure of evangelical Christianity and extols the primacy of sex among evangelicals. "I unfortunately chose the wrong leading man," Ms. Pelosi said of Mr. Haggard, whom she picked for his credibility. She liked him, she said, and they spent a great deal of time together... After his fall, Ms. Pelosi scurried back to the editing room, saddened. "We had to take some stuff out," she said. "But you can't do an entire movie without the failed guy."
Apart from the above worries, Ms. Pelosi said she "tried hard to make [evangelicals] look their best" and believes her film is sympathetic to this growing group of Americans who identify as evangelical. The jury is out, of course, until HBO airs the documentary.
All through the elephant-dung Virgin Mary dust-up and the "Piss Christ" controversy, one might have drawn the conclusion that Catholic League president Bill Donohue just didn't get modern art. Who would want to tackle the task of explaining to Donohue how Western art at the turn of the 2000s had come to "appropriate" icons, materials, and techniques from other media and other cultures? The whole point of Chris Ofili's portrait of the Blessed Virgin was to expose our own cultural bias against, well, pachyderm poop. Huh, Bill? Or imagine Donohue's expression as you tried to play up the positive theme of incarnation in a photograph of a crucifix dunken in urine. Instead, artists seemed to create religious art just to see the watchdog of right-wing religious rights charge to tend of his tether, barking and growling.
But years of examining modern art for anti-Catholic bias seems to have deposited in Donohue's conscious an appreciation for contemporary art. When Kate Kretz put her painting "Blessed Art Thou"--which depicts Angelina Jolie as the Mother of Christ--on the market recently, Donohue was not only restrained in his criticism, he offered an reasonable explanation of what's at stake in postmodern art. While admonishing Kretz for "misappropriat[ing] the imagery of Our Blessed Mother," Donohue admitted that she had "correctly seized upon the most important and revered woman ever to live as the focal point of her statement."
What that statement was Donohue doesn't say, but he seems to cotton to the idea that (mis)appropriating the Virgin is a way to talk about how we revere women. For the record, Kretz says the Jolie-Mary image was a comment on Jolie's status as the mother of a highly anticipated child and a charitable presence. On her blog, Kretz recognized that "the Catholics officially say I'm not evil." Or maybe Donohue just can't resist Angelina Jolie.
Yvonne De Carlo died of natural causes on Monday at the age of 84. The name isn't familiar to you? Remember the quirky matriarch of the Munsters clan, Lily Munster? De Carlo breathed life into that television character--the serenely smiling mother to Eddie and wife to the bumbling, loveable, big-hearted Frankenstein-ian monster, Herman.
Though only on for two seasons in the early 1960s, "The Munsters" became part of television pop culture with its endless reruns and two Munsters movies. Its endearing quality came from the eccentric characters who were just trying to be part of the neighborhood (well, perhaps Grandpa wasn't trying to fit in).
Lily Munster, played with such ease by De Carlo, was the ultimate mother--always there for her family, smoothing the way, picking up the pieces, making everything all better. Though it made her a star, Lily Munster was a job that De Carlo took for money, as she was fighting to pay huge medical bills for her stuntsman husband Bob Morgan, who had lost his leg in an accident on set.
De Carlo will always be remembered for Lily Munster, but the accomplished actress had a number of movie roles under her belt, the most famous of which was playing wife to Charlton Heston's Moses in "The Ten Commandments."
That's right. Before she was Lily Munster, De Carlo was Sephora, the noble, beautiful, supportive wife of Moses.
So she will live on, in Munsters syndication (it's on television somewhere in the world right now, I'm sure), and every Easter when "The Ten Commandments" is shown in primetime.
While many in the press have continued to heap accolades on NBC's "Friday Night Lights" as the best new series of the fall season, I withdrew my enthusiastic support after the show took a wrong turn and starting heading into tacky teen soapdom in the vein of a series like "The O.C." But I am back with a vengeance to drum up support for the ratings-deprived Dillon Panthers football team, as recent episodes of the series have insightfully and poetically portrayed the plight of the teens of a small town in Texas, as well as the harsh reality of too many teens all over the country. Issues such as steroid use, domestic violence, living with a physical disability, and absentee parents are all examined with emotional depth and deep respect in a way that should have everyone supporting NBC's courageous deicison to give this show a chance to find an audience.
Last night's episode brought to a head several storylines involving teens who are, for all pratical purposes, raising themselves. The new Panther QB, Matt Sarinsin, has been struggling for weeks to balance his new responsibility on the field with his ongoing burden of caring for his grandmother--who is supposed to be his guardian while his dad is in Iraq--who has severe dimentia.When his father returns from the war, it is not a happy reunion, as the father would rather be back in Iraq, and Matt is once again left on his own.
At the same time, across town, an ex-girlfriend of another Panther player has had enough of watching her mother being assaulted by a deadbeat boyfriend. The girl not only attacks the man to protect her mother, but threatens to leave home once and for all if mom doesn't end the relationship. In both storylines, the teenagers are sadly parenting the parents, when the teens themselves are desparate for some guidance themselves.
The two overlapping storylines have different endings--the girl's mother bravely chooses to not return to the abusive boyfriend, while Matt resigns himself to his dad's return to Iraq--and they are framed by a third storyline involving the one redemptive role model these teens know: Coach Taylor. The coach wearily but gladly takes on the challenge of fathering some of these teens, only to have his efforts repaid by being sued by an ex-football player's family, essentially severing his bonds with the boy permanently.
As the show comes to a close with one father rather foolishly praying for God to let the Panthers win in the upcoming playoffs, his befuddled prayer only sheds more light on this series' celebration of the importance of facing life's important battles off the field with unconditional love and a little hope.
Nineteenth-century American author and lawyer Christian Nestell Bovee once noted that "Bad taste is a species of bad morals." So, what would he think of the posting of the Sadam Hussein execution video and the recent decision to air the wildlife documentary Croc Hunter Steve Irwin was working on when he was killed by a stingray barb? Would Bovee chalk it up to simple 21st century tackiness, or would he despair that, as a culture, we've entered into an ethical quagmire?
It used to be that news editors acted as the culture's de facto arbiters of taste--deciding what images were acceptable to show or broadcast. Ironically, many scholars believe that it was the media that helped put an end to public executions in the United States, when reporters described the distateful carnival-like atmosphere of the 1936 execution of Rainey Bethea in Owensboro, Kentucky. And while newspaper editors and television producers still struggle with what is in good taste, people posting to upstart online video portals such as YouTube don't have to battle with such moral quandries. They can just shoot and show, and the networks are struggling to be as provocative while towing the taste line.
Executions of political prisoners are often documented; photgraphs of Communist Romania nleader Nicolae Ceauşescu come to mind. However, in this age of instant and effortless communication, arguments have been made that mere still photos would not have been enough to convince the world of Hussein's death. (In fact, accusations have been lobbed that those cell phone videographers were in cahoots with Arab television networks.) And while documenting the dictator's demise is important for posterity, should it be publicly posted to sate browsers' prurient interests?
Investor's Business Daily notes that "The Hussein video is the latest example of the Web's pushing the limits of the First Amendment."
"What the Internet has done is removed censorship and taken freedom of speech to a whole new level," Phil Leigh, an analyst for Inside Digital Media, told the publication. "You get some questionable stuff, but you have to take the good with the bad."
As Thomas Jefferson once said, "Taste cannot be controlled by law." A very American concept.
To a lesser extent, the decision to air Irwin's final episode raises questions as well. While no actual footage from the fatal day will be included and an Irwin tribute will accompany the show, the reasoning behind its airing seems a bit disingenuous.
"The documentary was commissioned, we finished it, and it's going to air," John Stainton, Irwin's former manager told EOnline News. "It's been a long and arduous saga... an emotionally charged time to do an edit on a documentary that did have a deadline, and we did have to honor that deadline."
Is the Discovery Channel really so heartless? Could they not understand that the episode may never be finished? If the Irwin family endorses the airing, then so be it, but at least they could have changed the title: "Ocean's Deadliest"--you read that correctly--airs on January 21.
"Jack is back," or so the commercials promise. Next Sunday, Season Six of "24" kicks off during its traditional slot right after Fox-TV's playoff coverage.
It will be eight days short of eight months since the last original episode of "24" aired. I can't remember any other show in our lifetime that can take more than half of the year off and still sustain this level of interest and expectation. The highest-rated shows of our times--from "Cheers" to "Friends," from "ER" to "West Wing," from "M*A*S*H*" to "The Carol Burnett Show," from "60 Minutes" to "20/20"--have all run in consecutive seasons to maintain their audience. "24" has generated a different kind of loyalty.
And I'm curious as to why.
Perhaps we long for what we don't have, and this is evidence that absence does, indeed, make the heart grow fonder. Perhaps we're an increasingly illiterate culture that likes a TV show that delivers the details and drama of a novel without having to read. Perhaps we're a spiritually-based culture that longs for shows about super-human saviors. Perhaps Fox's advertising draws in men to the show and women are thrilled to have something they can both watch together. Maybe there's some other reason.
Whatever it is, I, for one, am glad there's only four days to go until Season Six arrives!
No, it's not a joke. The CBC--a major Canadian broadcasting network--premieres a long awaited, much talked about new television series called "Little Mosque on the Prairie," tonight at 8:30pm. And, it's a sitcom! That's right--a comedy about being Muslim and living in the West.
The show, created by Zarqa Nawaz, "focuses on the small Muslim community in the little Prairie town of Mercy," where "many of the town's residents are leery of their Muslim neighbours, who are unsure how to assimilate into the community," reports Jeff DeDekker of the Saskatchewan News Network.
Nawaz got the idea for the sitcom after 9/11 and experiencing personally the breadth of attitudes and situations Muslims faced as a result--some of which she found were rather funny. "Little Mosque on the Prairie" is described as "a kind-hearted comedy that makes light of misconceptions about Muslims and isn't afraid of poking fun at all characters, be they Muslims, rural folk or bigcity residents."
As for characters, Nawaz has filled them with conflict: "When I created each of the characters I was careful to create characters who had inherent conflict built into them. For example, Baber, the most conservative member of the community, has a rebellious teenage daughter who doesn't want to wear the hijab or go to Islamic school or participate in the faith at the level he would like her to. Yasir and Sarah, the more modern, non-secular Muslims, have a daughter who went to university and discovered her faith and wears a scarf, much to the chagrin of her mother, the convert, who sees it as a sign of oppression."
Nawaz confesses she is prepared for the inevitable backlash that comes when anyone--Muslim or otherwise--makes light of Islam's followers:
"The only people who will be offended are the people who are extremely right wing, on both sides of the spectrum, Muslims and non-Muslims who have no sense of humour," said Nawaz. "There's nothing you can do about that... I know the heart of the show is in the right place, the intention is to be a comedy, to make people laugh and entertain people. It's coming from a very funny place and I think it will be very successful, God willing."
A young mother gives birth to a miracle child destined to save humanity but then must flee with her child to safety or be killed. No, I am not describing the plot of "The Nativity Story," but the plot of the futuristic thriller "Children of Men." Director Alfonso Cuaron ("The Prisoner of Azkaban") takes the premise of mystery author P.D. James's novel of the same name and gives the audience a jarring, emotional journey through a dystopian society not too far into the future. The result is a film that is one of the best directed movies of the year, filled with images that are by turns disturbing, depressing, inspiring, and, occasionally, even humorous. And while the movie in its own way clearly celebrates the value of life, it's too bad that it doesn't stay true to the theology of the novel.
"Children of Men" takes place only two decades into the future and follows a burned-out political activist, Theo (Clive Owen), as he becomes an unlikely hero. Theo lives in war-torn, plague-ravaged England, where people walk through the city streets like zombies because their society is dying out, literally. There hasn't been a birth of a child in this society in 18 years. The women are sterile--for reasons the movie deosn't exactly explain--and because there are no children, there is no future and no hope.
Theo is enlisted by his ex-wife, Julian ( Julianne Moore), to join her undergound group of rebels, only to soon discover the real reason she came to him--her allies have been hiding a woman who is about to give birth.The possibility of this miracle of new life gives Theo hope, and he is suddenly swept up into a battle--both the rebels and the existing governement will take the child from the mother to be used for political gain--to keep the woman alive at all costs.
I admire Cuaron's handling of this complicated material becuase his choices are always unexpected and often unexplained. Every time I thought I knew what was happening next, I was wrong. This gave me much more of a sense of an impending apocalypse than Mel Gibson's "Apocalypto" ever did. Cuaron also refuses to explain much of the narrative of the story--the "whys" and the "hows," which I also think adds to the chaotic, dangerous feel of the action. Cuaron also deftly creates images that serve as warnings to the audince about our own current cutlure regarding the treatment of immigrants and the disenfranchised and the dangers of apathy.
My problem with "Children" is that the conclusion Cuaron seems to draw is strictly humanistic in nature, which is not what P.D. James had in mind at all. James meant the story to have an implicit Christian vision, one which is not evidenced in the movie. There is one discussion in the film in which Theo's mentor and friend explains that everyone has to decide to let their lives be run by faith or by chance, but that is about as far as the theological discussion goes. Many characters look up to heaven for help in this movie, but they get no answers. The implication seems to be that we are on our own to help ourselves and the next generation; God isn't there or isn't interested--take your pick.
Cuaron has said in interviews that he deliberately stayed away from trying to adapt the novel, instead choosing to use the premise and charaacters as a launching point. However, his movie falls a tad short at the end simply because he probed some very deep questions about life and our future existence without looki
ng for answers that may lie outside of human capabilities. If he had done that, "Children of Men" would have easily become a great, memorable film, not just a good one.
I liked "The Good Shepherd" and enjoyed Ellen Leventry's Idol Chatter review of it, with one main point of disagreement. Where she saw it as perhaps an incomplete movie about the CIA, I thought it was a thorough--if not ingenious--look at the career path that cost many of our fathers (and grandfathers) the life they once dreamed of and the one their parents wished for them.
What Ellen saw as a "romantically sharp contrast" between Matt Damon's character, Edward Wilson, in a flashback from his adult role to his college days was actually a dramatic and tragic contrast between what he could have become and what he did become. I agreed with her comment that "Wilson struggles with secrets... but is extremely good at keeping them," but that's more a story about Wilson's entire generation and not just the CIA.
How many men became something they never intended, because of their sense of duty to either their family or their country? Who really dreamed of working 70 hours a week (or even a "9 to 5" job) but ended up taking just that sort of job and doing what was required of them? Wilson's "jarring turn from young romantic to enigmatic adult" is typical of most men, not just CIA men, of that generation. What Ellen describes as a "patriotic zeal" that sacrificed "the health of his soul" is what way, way too many men from that generation experienced. It wasn't just limited to the CIA.
By the time Wilson discovers his heart for his son and the pain of a distant relationship to his wife, it is too late to prevent the painful consequences that transpire later in life. It also leads him to make some unwise personal choices. Wow, doesn't that sound familiar to many of us?
I hope every high school student can someday see a PG-rated version of "The Good Shepherd," either in Social Science, Human Development, or some other class. It would help a lot of kids understand the pains (and sins) of their forefathers and prepare them to make healthier choices in their own futures. Edward Wilson always thought he was doing the right thing. Who of us doesn't?
The world has seen its share of cheesy teacher-transforms-students movies ("Dangerous Minds" starring Michelle Pfeiffer is a classic example). But the "Stand and Deliver" examples of the genre--those that not only inspire but are also well-told, well-acted stories--are a rare breed.
"Freedom Writers," thankfully, is of the "Stand and Deliver" variety.
Based on a true story, "Freedom Writers" is about real-life teacher Erin Gruwell (Hilary Swank)--known as "Ms. G" to her students--who arrives at Wilson High School in gang-ridden Long Beach, Calif., with all the idealism of a shiny new college grad. As prim and proper as can be, with a beautiful string of pearls around her neck from daddy to complete the picture, audiences will know to cover their eyes for her sure-to-be-disastrous first day on the job. And it is indeed riddled with tension--between the rival gang members who are Ms. Gruwell's students, and between the students and their inexperienced white teacher.
Beyond this initial predictability, "Freedom Writers" is an important tribute--not just to all the extraordinary teachers who populate some of our nation's toughest classrooms, but to those young people whose daily battles for survival are unimaginable to most of us.
As the story evolves, we watch as Ms. G's students are born again twice in the duration of the film--but not by religion. First we learn that each girl and boy has endured a baptism by blood. They leave behind their younger, tender, child-like selves for the tougher, if not older, people they must become as they are initiated into neighborhood gangs organized according to race.
But it is their second baptism--a baptism of books and words--that is truly salvific. In an activity that Ms. G calls a "Toast for Change," she challenges each student to leave behind the self that walked into her classroom on that day--with all its negativity, anger, self-defeating beliefs, and shattered expectations--and take on a new self filled with hope and possibilities for the future. As each student raises a glass of sparkling cider and proclaims who they will be from this day forward, Ms. G gifts them with a bag of books, each of which reminds her uniquely of them.
"Freedom Writers" is, in many ways, the story of how books--whether in the form of personal journals, notebooks, letters, and diaries kept about the students' lives or those, like "The Diary of Anne Frank," which they read as a class (combined with the extraordinary dedication of Ms. G, of course)--can truly save a soul.
Audiences will be moved to both tears and cheers as they find themselves growing more and more attached to each student's story. "Freedom Writers" is an inspirational story of the best kind, and I suspect people will leave the theater with hope about America's classrooms and their leaders--and a strong desire to go out and buy "The Freedom Writers Diary: How a Teacher and 150 Teens Used Writing to Change Themselves and the World Around Them," a book of diary entries from the real students of Miss G's Room 203.
If you need a "Studio 60" fix while waiting for new episodes of the dramedy to return next week, I highly recommend you check out the new interview with director/producer Tommy Schlamme in the Christian satire magazine "The Wittenburg Door." The magazine (which is forbidden in most Christian bookstores in part because of its habit of allowing the occasional profanity to find its way into articles) somehow scored an afternoon on the series' NBC lot and found out the real story about the creation of Harriet Hayes, or as "The Door" refers to her, "The Best Christian on TV."
During the interview, Schlamme confirms that both he and writer/creator Aaron Sorkin are agnostic Jews who are "very interested in religion, both the best and the worst of it" and describes his affection for the Christians he knew growing up in Houston , who hugged him and told him they were "sorry" he was going to hell. He also confirms that, yes, indeed, the Harriet Hayes character is modeled after Sorkin's ex-girlfriend, actress Kristin Chenoweth (supposedly, she once told him to accept Jesus Christ as his savior or get out) but he also shares that "Saturday Night Live" cast member Victoria Jackson--also a Christian--was also an inspiration because she (unlike the fictional Harriet) once refused to be in a sketch entitled "Crazy Christians."
But, in one more baby step toward ending the culture war in our country, Schlamme has promised that "The Wittenburg Door" will be making an appearance on "Studio 60" very soon. In the article, Schlamme states he is such a fan of the magazine now that he is planning on placing copies of it in Harriet's dressing room for the rest of the season.
Read any number of reviews of "The Good Shepherd," Robert De Niro's fascinating look at the birth of the Central Intelligence Agency through the eyes of a character loosely based on former counter-intelligence head James Jesus Angleton, and you will recognize variations on a theme: the corruption and eventual erosion of the soul.
In the opening minutes of the film, we are introduced to CIA agent Edward Wilson, played with brilliant subtlety by Matt Damon, circa 1961, around the time of the botched Bay of Pigs Invasion. Cut to a young Wilson performing a cringe-worthy falsetto as Little Buttercup in "H.M.S. Pinafore" while a student at Yale, reciting original poetry in class, and flirting with the pretty girl across the library table. A romantically stark contrast to the reserved agent to whom we've just been introduced. But from the moment Wilson is "tapped" by the secret Skull and Bones society, a sense of malevolence envelopes the film and we see Wilson begin to evolve into an inscrutable cipher. Even though the audience doesn't know why yet, they sense that Wilson struggles with secrets, that he isn't comfortable with them, but that he is extremely good at keeping them. And that, it seems to me, is the real crux of the film.
Sure, nearly every lead character Wilson comes in contact with murmurs some truism about the world of espionage, lies, and deceit being ultimately destructive--a destruction illustrated by the juxtaposition of the youthful, smiling Wilson with the silent, studied man he becomes. But, De Niro doesn't spend enough time developing the younger Wilson, allowing for a more jarring turn from young romantic to enigmatic adult. We never get the feeling that Wilson's soul is truly being destroyed.
Wilson clearly is not comfortable with many of the things he is asked to do, including heading up the counter-intelligence branch under a Skullsman with whom he's always had an oddly adversarial relationship. But unlike everyone else in the film--his wife, his son, other agents--Wilson can handle the lies, he can carry the burden of the deceptions. And he knows it. He comes across not as a man driven by stereotypical defintions of patriotism or duty, but by the knowledge that he is necessary.
Perhaps if he had been painted more broadly as a young man boiling over with patriotic zeal, we could understand why he would sacrifice the health of his soul to a career in the CIA. Wilson's wife, played by Angelina Jolie, asks on several occassions, somewhat jokingly, if he is going off to "save the world," but if that's his ambition, he hides that just as well as all the other secrets he carries. On the other hand, that's what makes the film so three-dimensional: We never get a true sense of Wilson's motivations. He is simply the titular shepherd, subtly leading others down the correct path in a crooked world; protecting others by keeping secrets, a talent he began perfecting as a child.
"The Good Shepherd" is an extremely complicated movie and to try to elaborate on the plot is not only difficult, but potentially ruinous to those who have not yet seen the film. Suffice it to say that Wilson understands that the verse of the biblical book of John engraved in the Foyer of CIA headquarters--"And ye shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free" (8:32)--does not apply to him.
Last fall, researcher George Barna--the Gallup of the Christian scene--found that Denzel Washington is better known and better loved than any living American religious figure. Lately, it seems as if Washington is running up the score.
Denzel got a faith bump this fall, as Zondervan Publishing debuted the first (New Testament) installment of "The Bible Experience," a much-anticipated audio version of the Good Book. Though his role--Denzel and wife Pauletta read the Song of Solomon--won't appear until later this year when the Old Testament is released, Zondervan put Washington front and center in their publicity push.
Then, in interviews for the late December premiere of "Déjà Vu," Washington mixed hints about his faith with some plain talk about his deep reading in various religions. "I've gone through the eastern philosophies, Christianity, Buddhism, Swamis, and back to Christianity and Islam," he told Britain's Guardian last month. "Just searching. 'Siddhartha,' by Herman Hesse, is my favourite book, because he was walking the earth, praying, searching. I kind of had that vibe and curiosity."
To top it off, Washington is the January cover boy for the inspirational magazine Guideposts, where he touts his recently published book on the value of mentors.
Barna's survey was one in a series seemingly aimed at exposing the decline of Christianity in the American mainstream. But with standard bearers like Denzel, does Barna really have cause to worry?
With the success of the film adaptation of the musical "Chicago," and to a lesser degree, "Rent," Hollywood looks to the world of Broadway one more time for a hit--this time with the Motown celebration "Dreamgirls." Beyonce, Jamie Foxx, and "American Idol" contender Jennifer Hudson shimmy, shake, strut, and sing their way through the 1960s and '70s career of a fictious R&B group called "The Dreams," but your tolerance for sequins, big hair, and characters who break out into song at a moment's notice will largely influence how much you appreciate this film's glossy, stylized treatment of ambition and loyalty. For me, as far as musicals go, this one had just enough show-stopping moments to make it worth my time.
Loosely based on the history of Diana Ross & The Supremes, "Dreamgirls" tells the story of Deena, Lorrell, and Effie, childhood friends in 1960s Detroit who dream of making it big one day as a singing group. The dream begins to become reality when a car salesman turned recording artist manager, Curtis, hires them to sing back-up for a Little Richard/James Brown-style singer, Jimmie Early (Eddie Murphy). Before long, Curtis comes up with a new plan to make sleek, lovely Deena the star of the Dreams, while kicking the slightly pudgy and loud-mouthed Effie out of the group--even though she is the one with the powerhouse voice, not Deena.
The first half of "Dreamgirls" moves at a breakneck pace and feels more like a traditional movie than it does a stage musical adapted for the cameras. It is the second half of the movie--which takes place in the '70s, when Deena becomes a huge star and Effie hits hard times--that the pace lags and the musical numbers become cheesy, inviting twitters of laughter from the audience in the theater where I saw it. And while everyone in this large cast gives a good performance, all of the actors except Eddie Murphy are dwarfed by newcomer Jennifer Hudson's amazing, fearless performance as Effie. When she is on screen, no one else really matters.
But while it would be easy to dismiss "Dreamgirls" as nothing more than just a glitzy rags-to-riches story, there is some substance in between the singing and dancing. What the first act of the movie does especially well is establish that all of the characters realize there is more than money and fame at stake as they pursue their dreams. Mainstream success for an African-American means power in a white man's world, especially during that turbulent civil rights era. It also means opening up previously closed doors for the generation to come after them. The question is whether or not it is absolutely necessary to abandon your own personal moral compass for the sake of the bigger cause. There's also a few nice moments in the second act that serve as a reminder that with great privilege comes great responsibility.
Still, in true Broadway style, the movie never examines these questions in depth, but gives them only a passing touch. And unlike the real-life tragedy of the Supremes (the woman Effie is based on died young, broke, and unsuccessful), the musical chooses to wrap up all of the behind-the-scenes drama among the stars with a reasonably happy ending. Sticking to real life would have driven home some of the musical's finer points in a much more interesting way, I think.
So, yes, "Dreamgirls" hits a few right notes and misses a few others, but in the end, it's an entertaining look at the dreams of an entire era, and the price that comes with reaching them. And if you are an "American Idol" fan , you can just check out "Dreamgirls" to appreciate Jennifer Hudson for making a liar out of her biggest critic, Simon Cowell.
Hard to say whether the Catholic-born Kabbalah convert Madonna celebrates Christmas. Last year, she reportedly prepped for the Yule by having four 72-pint firkins of ale delivered to her Wiltshire home: a good sign that Father Christmas was expected at the Ritchie-Ciccone residence.
On the other hand, the British tabloids report that Yohane Banda, father of the Malawian boy she is trying to adopt, got no seasonal cheer from the singer. "I can’t lie to you, she hasn’t brought us anything this Christmas," Banda told The Daily Express last week.
That's not to say that having Madonna in his life has put nothing in his stocking: a report in Malawi's national newspaper The Daily Times says that what Banda initially thought was a Christmas card from a well-wisher turned out to be a check from a woman in Scotland worth 400 British pounds (about $790).
One more follow-up to CNN's "Most Controversial Celebrities of 2006": Mel Gibson, Tom Cruise, Lindsay Lohan, and Britney Spears not only provided non-stop fun and follies on which a starving (or bored) cultural audience feasted, but something else far more newsworthy--and perhaps dangerous--was going on as well.
It has probably been true every year and I just haven't noticed it, but 2006 certainly seemed to be the year where saying "I'm sorry" became big business for stars--in some ways, as big as what they do on set. More and more, the business that a movie, TV show, or CD title does has more to do with the star's image and brand than the actual show or song itself. And if that's true, then each star's ability to express regret, or contrition, or apology--or at least the appearance of it--is not only important as a moral value but it's essential to their livelihood and those of their supporting casts and partners, which is why it's become big business and why I'm not sure how to trust any apology that ever comes down the spin cycle.
Ever since Hugh Grant went on Jay Leno to be teed up for a his famous apology by Jay's wonderful "What the hell where you thinking?" question, stars have realized that issuing an apology requires the advance work worthy of a movie premiere or music video rollout, yielding humungous results if executed well.
It's not just their good name that's on the line--it's their marketability and thus their next paycheck.
So now, experts are called in and agents haggle over details of not only the words but the setting and genre of the next well-produced version of "to all my fans, and whomever I may have offended, and all those dear people I've ever met anywhere, and to anyone with a pulse who may or may not be tempted to not buy the next thing I act or sing in, I apologize with every fiber of my being for any trouble or damage or lifelong scarring I might have caused in you through my alleged whatever-it-is that got caught on video because if it didn't I wouldn't be acknowledging it or apologizing."
The problem, of course, is that when apologies became part of show business--rather than the stuff that happens off-screen in "real life"--we can never know whether one is authentic or produced. And that, my friends, is not good for a nation of spiritual people who long for authenticity. Today, the acting of actors (and others) extends offscreen, leaving a trail of (possibly) short-term financial success but long-term damage to our nation's culture.
While some reviewers panned it, I thought "A Night at the Museum" was full of surprises. The advertising run-up to this movie made it seem like it'd be sort of an indoors version of "Jurassic Park," and the first several minutes bored me with another (overdone) Ben-Stiller-is-a-good-guy-who-gets-picked-on character.
After that, though, things got exciting. Old stars (Dick Van Dyke, Mickey Rooney) had more than cameos and did pretty well. Current stars (Robin Williams)took wonderful turns in supporting roles, literally coming to life throughout the movie. And while Stiller never really moves past his typical (and stereotypical) character--which just as well could have been called "The Same-Guy-From-'Meet-the-Fockers' Takes a Museum Job"--the powerful dynamics of reconciliation and restoration are powerful.
In a time when so many holiday-season movies are R-rated Oscar-qualifying flicks, I appreciate one that teens and kids can enjoy and their parents can appreciate. And, like "Rocky Balboa" and "Charlotte's Web," there's an enjoyable and meaningful message worth waiting for.
"Night at the Museum" could have been on the "Top Ten Family Films of the Year" if it had come out sooner. And, if you don't have a family--but want to have one someday--can I be so bold as to say that this movie might be the inspirational tool you need to make some changes and move that direction.
In "Not Everybody Loves Patricia," Jesse Green of The New York Times writes a lengthy profile of Patricia Heaton--the two-time Emmy Award winner for her nine-season turn on "Everybody Loves Raymond"--and her struggles with being at once a popular actress and a not-so-popular Christian.
Raised in a conservative Catholic household where "they attended Mass every day, and their taste in interior decoration ran to pictures of St. Lucy holding her eyeballs on a platter," Heaton has come under fire for her Christian-influenced political activism. (Though her Christianity has been rather nomadic, and as an adult, her Christian affiliations have fluctuated from Catholic to Calvinist to New Age, and lately, to Presbyterian.)
She raised eyebrows on both the set and in Hollywood when she became honorary co-chairwoman of Feminists for Life. But that reaction paled in comparison to her decision to do a spot on a political ad against Missouri's constitutional ammendment to fund stem-cell research in the last election. In the Times article, Heaton expresses intense regret for allowing herself to be talked into participating in what became one of the most controversial and reviled commercials of 2006, since Michael J. Fox did what the public regarded as the "opposing spot" in support of the ammendment. Fox news picked up the controversy about the ads and pitched things as a kind of "Patricia Heaton vs. Michael J. Fox" boxing match--and it was all downhill from there for Heaton.
But redemption awaits Ms. Heaton--if not on television, then on the stage.
In response to the whys behind her decision to forsake television for the stage (Heaton stars in the new Off Broadway production of "The Scene"), and after so much scandal with the "Heaton vs. Fox" debacle, Heaton told Green that she takes comfort “in noticing that all the people that God chose had problems and failings: David, Peter, Paul, Mary Magdalene.” Green writes that Heaton spoke these names without special deference, as if they were pals from high school glee club, while Heaton continues: “God reached out to them specifically. And I’ve always felt closest to God when I’m on a stage. I guess it’s really useful to be damaged in this business, because it makes it possible for you to express things--and get paid for it.”
"The Scene" opens January 11th at the Second Stage Theater.
You can read Beliefnet's own interview with Heaton--in which she elaborates on her Christian beliefs and her involvement in Feminists for Life--here.
President Ford’s death has set off a week of reflection and commentary regarding his presidency and predictions about his lasting legacy. I’m sorry that one of the prime stories about his life has not been overly reported, and I understand why.
Many of us depend on newsmagazines, short film, bites and comic relief for contributions to our culture’s understanding of the news events of our time. And before the bevy of newschannels and news comedy shows in existence today, the nation still depended on the major networks for most of its news, and just two shows—Saturday Night Live and The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson--for their political comedy. President Ford was not served well by that.
I remember laughing my eyes out every time Chevy Chase would come up with some fresh way to fall, stumble, crash, stutter, or in some other way parody the occasional klutzy moves President Ford had made. Bob Hope used to joke at the Country Club (I was a guest hearing this, not a member) about finishing a round with President Ford and looking back to count the wounded. Everyone laughed because Mr. Ford had a reputation of hitting on-lookers with his wayward shots. Whether he was skiing or playing tennis or swimming or just climbing the stairs on Air Force One, there seemed to always be a picture of a President Ford gaffe on the network news (and not just the comedy shows).
The truth, though, was that Mr. Ford was an outstanding athlete. He was an All-American at Michigan University, and one of the more athletic and active presidents. He had to be, or else there wouldn’t have been the falls or wild shots to photograph or talk about. And, he had a strong self-esteem, such that he didn’t shy away from the sports he enjoyed, nor did he make efforts to restrict cameras.
I point this out in this week of mourning only to remind us that all that we see--and are trained to see--is not always accurate. The only thing we can trust is that an editor or producer thought it would garner ratings or improve the quality of the show. President Ford probably will be remembered by the typical American as somewhat of a clumsy guy, when in fact he was one of our greatest athletes as well as a spiritual man of inner strength in a time when our nation needed it.His thick skin withstood not only the criticism of his politics and policies, but the kind of false story telling (through images) that should have been reserved for The National Enquirer.
The connection between spirituality and art was once a given: think Dante or even the dark and edgy paintings of Breugel. In our day, art is understood to be secular, and the more edge, the more secular we expect the artist to be. A perfect example is The New York Times's Sunday profile of David Lynch, in which the movie director talks about the fact that he has been practicing Transcendental Meditation most of his adult life. In an article headlined "David Lynch’s Shockingly Peaceful Inner Life," the Times is astonished that Lynch's meditation "has allowed him to unleash his imagination and be, in a word, weirder."
The director, whose work includes "Elephant Man," "Blue Velvet," and, most recently, "The Inland Empire," admits that he, too, once considered meditation to be antithetical to gripping art: "The word 'harmony' would make me want to puke," recalls Lynch. "Meditation would be a sickening thing to consider, because you want that edge to create." But Lynch's misapprehension dates to the 1960s, when TM devotees like the Beatles and Mia Farrow began importing the meditation discipline to the West.
To pretend that the connection between TM and creativity is still a shocker is a bit of a lazy peg for a piece. (And what's more, the Times is late to the party: When Beliefnet interviewed Lynch a year ago, it was at the end of a months-long media blitz, during which Lynch talked about his embrace of TM.) What's interesting is how evangelistic the raffish and reclusive director is about his practice, even putting his money, or at least his fundraising powers, where his mouth is: "The director's goal is to raise $7 billion to help open seven 'peace universities' around the world," says the Times.
The most compelling insight of all, however, is the news that Lynch was once addicted to milkshakes from Bob's Big Boy.
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.
I hate to say I told you so. But way back when Madonna was embracing Kabbalah and taking my name as her own, I knew instinctively that Britney--who would have been a Wannabe, had she been a teenager in the 80s--would not be far behind her idol. And then suddenly Brit wore red string bracelets and toted copies of the Zohar (the primary Kabbalah text) poolside, and I was right: If Madge tries it, it's good enough for Britney.
Add to Del.icio.us 
Digg This 
Fave on Technorati
Nowhere on television is
To those following the coverage of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes' recent paparazzi-chronicled nuptials, the attendance of Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony probably wasn't much of a surprise (unlike Brooke Shields and her husband). Lopez has been best friends with "King of Queens" star and 
The only double award winner for drama at the 2007 Sundance Film Festival was James C. Strouse's powerful debut film, "Grace is Gone." 
In business these days, children are a fact of life. Working from home to stay with a sick child is an allowable indulgence. If anyone remarks on a small voice in the office or in the background on a conference call, it's most often to note it warmly. In 1973, when Roe v. Wade was being decided by the Supreme Court, children and business--and therefore women and business--never mixed. In order to get or keep a job, a woman could not get, or stay, pregnant.
Director Pernille Rose Gronkjaer invested five years (and her own money) chronicling Mr. Vig's 50-year effort to transform his Danish castle into a monastery. A former Lutheran pastor, Mr. Vig wants "to create something enduring, something of quality." As a student of world religions, Mr. Vig had initially tried to establish a Buddhist monastery on his Hesbjerg estate. But when Sister Amvrosya and a team of Russian Orthodox nuns come to inspect the castle, it is out with the Thangkas, in with the Icons. This is the first of a series of comedic clashes between the monkish Mr. Vig and the determined Sister Amvrosya. Mr. Vig must fix the heater and repair the roof before the nuns will embrace Hesbjerg as their new home. The nuns bring a literal warmth to Vig's dilapidated castle.
"The Island" (Russian title, "Ostrov") also follows a long procession, from cowardly acts in World War II, to profound moments of contemporary healing. Under pressure from the Nazis, a young sailor, Anatoli, shoots his ship captain, Tikhon. Washing ashore on a remote Russian island, Anatoli is rescued by Orthodox monks. Thirty years later, Anatoli has become a revered holy man, working out his salvation by digging coal and stoking fires for the monastery. Father Anatoli has become a source of prophecy, healing, and hope. Despite his spiritual power, Anatoli veers along the edge of madness, still haunted by his dark past. He walks "The Island," begging for forgiveness.
It couldn't have gotten any worse on "24" when the first of five nuclear bombs was detonated, presumably by Muslim terrorists. And so the eagerly anticipated season began, with Muslim extremists as the villain this time around. There's been a venerable smorgasborg of baddies on "24," the popular Fox drama that follows agent 
The fake controversy surrounding Dakota Fanning's new film, "
For "War Dance," the husband and wife team of Sean Fine and Andrea Nix Fine won the award for best documentary directing at Sundance. Jeff Consiglio's editing juxtaposes the horrors of war with the lush colors of the African bush. The sounds and images are beautiful and haunting. The camera also serves as a confessional for three children, a safe place to reveal the painful realities they witnessed.
Don't mistake "
Filmmaker Alexandra Pelosi's HBO documentary 
NBC's fantastic new show "
Oscar noms are in, and in the Best Picture category, the big winner is... the concept of being an outsider. Outside your comfort zone, undercover in a dangerous environment, out of place, or in literal exile, these films illustrate that to an extent--whether it's literal or figurative--we're all strangers in a strange land and respond to stories depicting the existential angst of the outsider.
Indie favorite "
And then there's "The Queen," a post-Diana's death portrait of Queen Elizabeth, the reigning English royal whose role in England becomes largely antiquate
d and unnecessary when compared to the emergingly more prominent role of the prime minister. In a world that has been irrevocably altered by the tragic accident, this fictionalized version of what happened within the palace walls showcases a queen trapped in a dead zone between history and modern life.
I read the rumblings in the trade papers about how the dysfunctional family comedy 
One of the few times a year I plant myself on my couch and only leave for bathroom breaks is during the first few episodes of "American Idol." Am I interested in this year's crop of talented singers, hoping to get a glimpse of the next big star? No way! I'm in it strictly to watch no-talent people get a wake-up call.
Okay, so Internet polls are scientifically suspect--only the Oscars are as susceptible to email campaigns, multiple votes, and people voting blindly for artists they've never seen. But the audience for 
Given our cultural obsession with the new and the novel, perhaps nothing is as daunting as following initial success. The sophomore slump can hamper creative efforts and lead to artistic blocks or overreaching.
How do you bring a little fun back into fundamentalism? By making a sitcom, as Zarqa Nawaz is fond of saying.
It's hard to recall the last time the 
This is how they touted 
The season premiere of "
Edgy, independent, artsy. Over the past 25 years, the 
My female friends and I often muse that if we were given a personal chef, a personal trainer, and a personal hair and makeup person, we too could look as good as any starlet out there. Apparently, though, another type of personal assistant is needed to attain the immaculately kept mien of 
Critics often throw around the term "feel-good movie" to describe a film that warms your heart to the very core, but "Stomp the Yard" was forgotten in that lot.
Donna Freitas is a gifted writer of spiritual insight, but 
Last night's 
I looked forward to Sunday night's long awaited 
The passing of a great man's widow is often taken as a second opportunity to mourn the man himself, but when 
All through the 
Yvonne De Carlo 
While 
"Jack is back," or so the commercials promise. Next Sunday, Season Six of 
A young mother gives birth to a miracle child destined to save humanity but then must flee with her child to safety or be killed. No, I am not describing the plot of "The Nativity Story," but the plot of the futuristic thriller 
I liked "The Good Shepherd" and enjoyed Ellen Leventry's 
The world has seen its share of cheesy teacher-transforms-students movies ("
If you need a 
Last fall, researcher George Barna--the Gallup of the Christian scene--found that Denzel Washington is 
With the success of the film adaptation of the musical "Chicago," and to a lesser degree, "Rent," Hollywood looks to the world of Broadway one more time for a hit--this time with the Motown celebration 
While some reviewers panned it, I thought "A Night at the Museum" was full of surprises. The advertising run-up to this movie made it seem like it'd be sort of an indoors version of "Jurassic Park," and the first several minutes bored me with another (overdone) Ben-Stiller-is-a-good-guy-who-gets-picked-on character.
In "
The connection between spirituality and art was once a given: think Dante or even the dark and edgy paintings of Breugel. In our day, art is understood to be secular, and the more edge, the more secular we expect the artist to be. A perfect example is The New York Times's Sunday 
