Maybe he feels a certain kinship with the late Anna Nicole Smith after donning drag for the upcoming film version of "Harispray," but John Travolta feels that Scientology could have saved the former Guess! model and reality star's life.
"The Pulp Fiction star has decided to use her death as a chance to promote Narconon--the controversial Church of Scientology drug rehab programme," reports Metro.co.uk. (Narconon is not to be confused with Narcanon, with an "A," which is the 12-step Narcotics Anonymous program.)
"It's so sad," the site reports the celebrity Scientologist as saying. "We could have helped her with Narconon but didn't get a chance to. I wish we had."
With the autopsy not yet finalized, the cause of Smith's death is still speculative. And whether or not she was simply taking prescription medication as her lawyer Howard Stern claims, Smith clearly had a problem, as the disturbing footage of Smith in clown face featured on Fox News clearly illustrated.
Travolta, who starred with Smith in "Be Cool" and has starred with Narconon spokesperson Kirstie Alley in the "Look Who's Talking" films, did not comment on the other strung-out starlettes of the moment, Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan.
According to one poster on gossip blog Perezhilton.com (warning: explicit language), Travolta made the statement while wending his way through the Oscar's press line, although MSNBC's Scoop puts it at a promtional event for his new flick "Wild Hogs." And while it's a questionable line of questioning--and Travolta's response seemed like an advertorial--in a way it gave the former Playboy Playmate and pop-cultural icon what she probably would have wanted, one last trip down the red carpet.
Relient K is a Christian band. Like Switchfoot, they have managed a tricky crossover from the Christian market into the mainstream. But according to a Monsters and Critics interview, their lead vocalist/songwriter Matt Thiessen doesn't enjoy the segregation.
"We view Christian music and the general market all as the same thing. It's funny to have a genre just based on lyrics. If I was Jewish and I was writing songs about Judaism, you [wouldn't] sell me only in Jewish bookstores. I feel like Christian music gets segregated," he says, wryly noting, "Green Day isn't in the Democratic section at Wal-Mart."
While a girl like me can certainly sympathize with not wanting to be labeled, even in identification with an aspect of yourself you're proud of, the truth is that Thiessen shouldn't yearn for Christian music to be treated like Jewish music. Before Tower Records (and HMV before it) closed, I would routinely go to music stores looking for something reflective of or incorporating aspects of Jewish life. Sure, there was a little bit of emergent neo-klezmer, or classic Yiddish tunes that my grandmother might have hummed to me when I was a kid. But young Jews didn't have "family values crossover rock" like Collective Soul, or even Amy Grant. Personally, I was hoping to find the newest Israeli bands and artists who don't even necessarily sing about Judaism. I kept looking in "World" and "Eastern" and "Middle East," but it was mostly Shakira and Ladysmith Black Mambazo.
Online was no better; BMG Music ("10 Albums for the Price of 1" draws you in and then 10 years later you're still a member, returning unwanting selections of the month) had a few token Hanukkah records in December, but was otherwise similarly bereft. The fact was, to find anything approaching Jewish music or "songs about Judaism," I would have to go to Jewish bookstores, because they're the only places that carry them.
But now, with the internet making the real-life music superstore all-but obsolete, it's a lot easier to find Jewish music. Amazon lists over 1500 titles in the results for "Jewish Music" (compared to 18,477 for "Christian Music"). JDub Records, the company that found and developed Matisyahu for the big time, is producing new Jewish music that blends traditional and contemporary. And JMG Music is not only distributing new Jewish music (like this year's Grammy-winning Klezmatics CD, "Wonder Wheel"), but resurrecting oldies like "Connie Francis Sings Jewish Favorites" and the comedy album "You Don't Have to be Jewish/When You're In Love the Whole World's Jewish."
Still, when it comes to mainstream store representation, I'd be willing to wager that Christian rockers are better off than their Jewish contemporaries. Thiessen might be interested to learn that on Monsters and Critics, the number one search result for "Jewish music" leads readers to the Relient K interview.
posted by Esther Kustanowitz @ 6:42 PM | Permalink |
Between "24" and "Heroes" on Monday and "Gilmore Girls" last night, television viewers are getting a heavy dose of religion.
With the recent re-appearance of the shamed President Charles Logan from Season 5--Jack needs his help tracking down a Russian terrorist--suddenly talk has turned to prayer, redemption, and forgiveness. When Jack questions Logan's motivation to help his country (and rightly so), Logan urges Jack to believe that he has "re-found" religion and his true goal is redemption.
On the "Heroes" episode "Company Man," Claire's Mom finally sees what her "special" daughter can really do--come back from the dead--and Mom begins talking about resurrection (Claire's that is) and the role of faith in surviving the latest family crisis.
And then on the "Gilmore Girls" episode "Will You Be My Lorelai Gilmore?" Lorelai ends up negotiating a truce between Lane--about to give birth to twin boys--and her fundamentalist Christian mom. Mom wants the boys raised as good Christians, and Lane says absolutely not: her kids are going to have the "freedom from religion" that she never enjoyed growing up. But when Lorelai suggests to Lane that maybe her kids will actually want church, Bible camp, and all the related stuff that Lane hated when she was a child, though shocked at the thought, Lane caves to Lorelai's sense, and Mom and Lane make up.
So everybody's jumping on the television religion bandwagon this week, and with a new "Lost" airing tonight, I'm guessing we're not done yet.
Between the front page New York Times Style section article "Shaking Riches Out of the Cosmos," which marvels about the fact that "The Secret" book is sitting atop the New York Times Hardcover Advice Bestseller List, and Newsweek's online extravaganza "Decoding 'The Secret,'" not to mention an official Oprah stamp of approval (she's dedicated two shows to it), Rhonda Byrne, editor of "The Secret" book, is laughing all the way to the bank--WITH YOUR MONEY!
New York Times reporter Allen Salkin rightly compares Byrne's "Secret" empire and its basic (and base) Law of Attraction message that "if you think it, it will come" to a long history of public interest in the latest "get rich quick" schemes (emphasis on the scheme):
Although "The Secret" is an overnight phenomenon, its message of think-and-grow-rich is but the latest version of a self-help formula dating back more than a century, with roots both secular and religious, and branches that have included Napoleon Hill's best-selling "Think and Grow Rich" in 1937 and Norman Vincent Peale's "Power of Positive Thinking" in 1952.
J. Gordon Melton, the director of the Institute for the Study of American Religion in Santa Barbara, Calif., traces the origins of "prosperity consciousness" to 19th-century Christian Science. "It's always waiting for slightly different forms of expression, the same old message," he said.
In my Idol Chatter December review of the DVD, I slammed this watered-down, self-interested mockery of a viewer's intelligence. This film's message is so flimsy and so juvenile that I could barely sit through the screener. And now to find out that it's sitting atop the bestseller list and getting top billing in major news outlets? I am rather appalled.
You do realize that by investing in "The Secret, you are merely making Rhonda Byrne richer, right? Not yourself?
"The Secret" is the latest New Age version of what has long been known as "The Prosperity Gospel," which is anything that preaches the "good news" that you are meant to have lots of money, and that if you just support "our church" or buy "our book" than we we let you in on the "how to"!
And you should know: some people consider members of Prosperity Gospel movements as members of a cult. Don't join the mania!
Okay, so it's taken a day to recover from the fact that some of my Oscar predictions for this year didn't quite work out the way I had hoped, but as I reflect on the ups and downs of the long, long, long, Oscar ceremony, one moment still irritates me. Regardless of who hosts, who is nominated, or who performs on the show, one thing Oscar has never done well is political statements. Not when it's Michael Moore. Not when it's Susan Sarandon. And not when it's Al Gore. Though I was thrilled that Al Gore won for his documentary "An Inconvenient Truth," unlike fellow blogger Doug, I cringed at the way Leonardo DiCaprio, Ellen DeGeneres, and the rest of the Hollywood elite took a wonderful moment and used it to rub salt in old wounds.
It started with Ellen's joke comparing Gore to Oscar winner Jennifer Hudson, reminding people that America didn't vote for the former "American Idol" contestant, but America did vote for Gore, and yet somehow they both ended up at the Academy Awards. Then there was Leonardo DiCaprio fawning all over the former vice-president, trying to convince him to announce that he would run for president. All of these rather lame jokes did nothing but take Americans back to a contentious election that divided the country.
Such ego-driven one-liners on a night intended to celebrate artistic excellence only showed that Hollywood completely missed the other reason Gore's film is worthy of praise. "An Inconvenient Truth" not only documented the damage we are doing to the environment, but also portrayed one man's courage and grace after public failure. It traced how one man learned from defeat, refrained from whining or pointing the blame at others, and is now rising from the ashes to truly lead our nation in a way we desperately need--all without holding political office.
I realize there is no perhaps no punchline in looking forward as opposed to looking back, but it might have been the ever-so-slightly more dignified response.
If you've been reading or watching the news this week, you've likely heard about James Cameron's press conference about his latest project: the supposed unearthing of Jesus' crypt.
What's that? Isn't it the Christian tradition that Jesus was resurrected? Well, forget all that Sunday School education. Because Cameron and director Simcha Jacobovici (who also hosted "The Exodus Decoded," which featured narration from Cameron) "claim to have amassed evidence through DNA tests, archeological evidence and Biblical studies, that the 10 coffins [or, more accurately, "ossuaries," found during the excavation of Jerusalem's Talpiyot neighborhood] belong to Jesus and his family." They've also concluded from the find that Jesus had a kid with Mary Magdalene. And they've made a movie about it, which will be shown soon on Discovery Channel, Britain's Channel 4, Canada's Vision, and Israel's Channel 8. The Discovery Channel has a more complete account of the film, "The Lost Tomb of Jesus."
Time gets the award for best headline: "Tales from the Crypt," but loses points for including too many Titanic references ("this time, the ship he's sinking is Christianity" and "stir up titanic debate") and yet not taking advantage of the chance to refer to either Cameron or Jacobovici as "the Cryptkeeper." (I mean, if you're going to go with Tales from the Crypt as your header and beat the Titanic thing to death, then go all the way.)
And now, this Jewess will offer some literary and cinematic recommendations (aside from "The Da Vinci Code," which I found interesting content- and mythology-wise, but amateurish and pedestrian in execution) for those of you who love to ponder Jesus and his mysteries from a less-than-traditional perspective:
"The Body" (movie, 2000): Antonio Banderas in a clerical collar is hot. "Ordered to investigate a dead body that could call Christianity's fundamental beliefs into question, Father Gutierrez (Antonio Banderas) travels to Jerusalem and meets archaeologist Sharon Golban (Olivia Williams). Together, they analyze the body and look for clues that could give them definitive answers to its origins. But events take a dangerous turn when a Palestinian terrorist group confronts Father Gutierrez and threatens to steal the body." (description: Netflix)
"The Last Temptation of Christ" (book, then film, 1988): Scorsese directs, and Peter Gabriel's haunting, sometimes painful score is itself a reason to experience this film. "At his execution, Jesus is tempted by an alluring image of a peaceful and pleasant life with Mary Magdelene to try to get him to refuse the sacrifice he must make." (description: IMDB)
"Cross Bones," by Kathy Reichs (book): If the characters sound familiar, it's likely because this popular series of "Bones" novels was recently transformed into the FOX procedural of the same name. "Forensic anthropologist Dr. Temperance "Tempe" Brennan gets caught in mysteries past and present when she's called in to determine if illegal antiquities dealer Avram Ferris's gunshot death is murder or suicide. An acquaintance of A
vram suggests the former: he hands Tempe a photograph of a skeleton, taken in Israel in 1963, and insists it's the reason Avram is dead. Tempe's longtime boyfriend, Quebecois detective Andrew Ryan, is also involved with the case, so the duo head to Israel where they attempt to solve the murder and a mystery revolving around a first-century tomb that may contain the remains of the family of Jesus Christ. This find threatens the worldwide Christian community, the Israeli and Jewish hierarchy and numerous illegal antiquity dealers, any of whom might be out to kill Tempe and Ryan." (description: Publishers Weekly)
"Jesus Christ Superstar" (show, then film, 1973): Listen to the opening song, and then try to get its infectious melody out of your head. Just try. "Based on a concept album project written by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice, and the subsequent long-running Broadway performance, this film tells the story of the final 6 days in the life of Jesus Christ through the troubled eyes of Judas Iscariot. Too often mis-labeled a musical, this film is a 'rock opera.' There are no spoken lines, everything is sung. " (description: IMDB)
"Godspell" (1973): "An adaption of the musical, in a modern-day song-and-dance recreation of the Gospel of St. Matthew." (description: IMDB)
And my nearly-out-of-print favorite, "Act of God," by Charles Templeton (book, 1977): As a teenager, I was obsessed with this book's analysis of religion, the potential upheaval of faith, and the conspiracy theories involved. "A secret so momentous it threatens to change the course of history... The most important archaeological discovery of all time sets irresistible forces in motion and alters forever the lives of three men and a woman: a celebrated Cardinal in the Roman Catholic church and the probable next pope, who is compelled against all his principles to plan the ultimate crime; a world-renowned archaeologist whose lust for fame carries him into the Israeli desert on a quest that promises immortality but threatens to destroy him; a beautiful but vulnerable young woman who is driven by events to make the agonizing choice between her faith and the first man she has ever loved; and a detective with the New York County District Attorney's Office who relentlessly investigates an international crime in the knowledge that the solution may shatter his own happiness."
Open mind. Read, see, think, and enjoy...
posted by Esther Kustanowitz @ 12:40 PM | Permalink |
Big awards shows show us the human side of stars as they navigate spontaneous moments that can even make them nervous. That's why we like Oscar night, which is the biggest of these. While the show itself may not have won huge ratings points, I found more inspiring and touching moments in this year's show than usual:
The many, many winners who wrote speeches because they knew they'd be too flustered to remember everyone, and the many, many winners whose hands were so jittery they could barely read their notes;
Jennifer Hudson's authentic and natural expression, "Look at what God can do," and also "My grandmother... she had the passion for it, but she never had the chance."
73-year old Alan Arkin freely setting his statue on the ground, perhaps a first in Oscar history;
Clint Eastwood in the role of translator, handling Italian for his friend who won the special award;
The moment each year where tribute is paid to those who've passed, inviting each of us to consider our own legacies and what awaits on the other side;
Seeing new art forms (at least new for us) in the gymnasts who formed the wonderful real-life figures behind the white screen, as well as the sound-effects orchestra called "The Hollywood Film Chorale Sound Effects Choir."
Any time we get to hear James Taylor sing;
Helen Mirren, who gave her poised speech with no notes and one of her earrings in her hand;
Nominees Leonardo Di Caprio, Ryan Gosling, and Will Smith standing for an extended time in honor of the Best Actor who'd just won over them, Forrest Whitaker;
Mr. Whitaker's impassioned speech about the light inside of each of us and how, through acting, he's been able to reach his goal of connecting to "everyone,"
The kind of loose hooting and hollering (for Scorsese's win) usually reserved for other shows but not the Oscars;
Two other mentions: My least favorite moments were every time the band was cutting people off, especially the second or third writing or backroom partner who'll never get another chance to thank his wife and love on his kids. And, some kind of special award has to go to Al Gore's agent or manager for his unbelievably high profile at the Grammys and Oscars. He's been funny, human, warm, and well-disciplined. He's doing wonders for our environment--which is needed--and he could probably announce his bid for president, but why would he want to? This has got to be more fun for him!
Jennifer Hudson's Oscar win was everything we tune in for: a handsome leading man (George Clooney) welcoming a young actress to the Hollywood fold and a teary speech punctuated by gasps of gratitude and sheer terror (and featuring a grandmother). Another beauty of the moment was the lack of mention of Hudson's race: In recent years, wins by Denzel Washington, Jamie Foxx, and Hallie Berry have celebrated, rightfully, the emergence of great roles and corresponding awards for African-American actors. With Forest Whitaker, Will Smith, Eddie Murphy, and Hudson all up for Oscars, one couldn't be race-blind at this year's ceremony ("It's a wonderful year to be an African-American actor," Beyonce Knowles said on her way into the Kodak Theater). But both Hudson and Whitaker accepted their awards without calling attention to the color of their skin.
Except, of course, in her simple statement, "Here's what God can do." It's hard to imagine a Caucasian performer leading with this in their acceptance speech. As in pop music, where Aretha Franklin can sing at church without causing anyone to wonder about her politics, or rappers like Mos Def can proclaim their Muslim faith without it defining their, uh, profile, African-Americans bring God naturally into mainstream events, without risking their popularity. Why? I've often thrown this question out to black and white performers alike, and few even attempt an answer.
Hudson's easy touch with Godtalk also allowed her to slip effortlessly out of a ridiculous exchange with E! reporter Ted Casablanca. Pressed by Casablanca for a few words of advice for fellow pop diva Britney Spears, Hudson said, "All I can do is pray for Britney." Amen.
Being an Oscar host is a difficult thing. I've never done it, but I've met two of the three most successful ones ever, and they both told me it was among the hardest gigs they'd ever done. There've been a lot of underwhelming performances by talented people over the years, and Ellen's, I'm sorry to say, was another one. She wasn't bold, funny, or controversial, though I'll grant that she was sincere. She had some cute bits in the audience with Martin Scorsese and Clint Eastwood, but as the show got longer I wished she'd have gotten shorter. She had one decent line: "If there weren't blacks, Jews and gays, there'd be no Oscars. Or anyone named Oscar."
While hosting has proved difficult, there've been some great one-liners by hosts through the years:
"So much mud was thrown this year, all the nominees look black." --Whoopi Goldberg.
"It's so good to see so many new faces, many of them on the old faces." --Johnny Carson.
"Welcome to the Academy Awards or, as they're known at my house, Passover." --Bob Hope.
"Good evening, Hollywood phonies." --Chevy Chase
"Probably the only laugh that man will ever get is for stripping and showing his shortcomings." –David Niven, after a streaker ran across the stage
"We have black people, white people, Asians, Hispanics, Jews, Christians, all working together. All because of a single common love: publicity." –Steve Martin
Last night Ellen joined a long list of hosts who've tried and not necessarily succeeded at being a comedic host. Jon Stewart wasn't bad last year, but the "Brokeback Mountain" jokes got old in the first hour and got tired by the end. Chris Rock was decent, but it obviously was a much tamer atmosphere than he was used to. David Letterman is famous for how badly his "Ooooooomah, Ohhhhhprah" gad went. I think the worst years were when Oscar tried to put groups of people together called "Friends of Oscar."
Who were the best Oscar hosts of all time? Well, I'd say it's these:
Bob Hope, who hosted 18 times from 1939-1978, kept it light, made it funny and (most important of all) moved it along.
Billy Crystal, with the curious off-and-on reign of 1990-93, '97-'98, 2000 and '04; he made the opening film segment and opening song medley a true art form, combining overture and expectation creation with humor and music.
Johnny Carson, who hosted 5 of 6 years from 1979-1984, calling it "two hours of sparkling entertainment stretched into a four hour time slot."
I think Johnny, Billy, and Bob succeeded where others have failed came in the freedom to be authentic. We're all at our best--physically, mentally, socially and spiritually--when we can be real, where we can be ourselves. Ellen wasn't. Chris Rock wasn't. David Letterman wasn't. Chevy Chase wasn't. Robin Williams wasn't. I don't understand why Oscar producers pick hosts that have succeeded with a certain style that has to be tamed down on Oscar night. I hope they'll keep that in mind when they make their next choices.
No blog posting on this would be complete without mentioning the noble efforts of Jerry Lewis, who tried to fill 20 minutes of empty time after the show ended early, as well as Agnes Moorhead, the first woman host. Perhaps a miracle will someday happen and they'll return to the format of the first show, when Douglas Fairbanks and William DeMille handed out all of the awards in about 20 minutes. Until we get back to that, I'm hoping Billy Crystal will come back, or some new star will arise. I don't think it'll be Ellen.
With "Studio 60's" ratings floundering, NBC has decided to up the premiere date of their mafia drama "The Black Donnellys" from Oscar winner Paul Haggis ("Crash," Million Dollar Baby") to this Monday evening, taking over "Studio 60's" timeslot for the rest of the season. I guess the hope is that good-looking people committing crimes in the name of love and loyalty will interest audiences more than good-looking people talking about their love of working in television and their beliefs about the existence of God.
"The Black Donnellys" refers to four Irish boys growing up in a rough neighborhood where the Italian mafia rules the way things are done. The pilot is told in flashback by a childhood buddy, a wiseguy named "Joey Ice Cream," who is being interrogated by the police about the Donnelly brothers and their involvement in organized crime. Through Joey's anecdotes we learn why Jimmy Donnelly is a cripple and an alcoholic, why Tommy Donnelly is the good kid of the bunch, and why two specific tragedies lead Tommy to make a choice that sucks him into a life of crime.
I realize that "The Black Donnellys" will automatically suffer by comparison to "The Sopranos"--which can get away with far more risqué material on HBO--but still, the pilot episode is not exceptionally edgy or violent. Instead, it contains oddball humor in the character of Joey, and sets up a star-crossed romance between Tommy and the girl-next-door/childhood sweetheart, Jenny Reilly.
I admit I am not a big fan of mafia dramas in general, never buying the idea that criminal underworld provides this amazing canvas to tell stories of redemption and justice. In the case of "The Black Donnellys," it doesn't help that they are replacing a show I have grown fond of. But while I found some of the style and dialogue of the first half of the show a little contrived, where the show shines is in the performance of Jonathon Tucker as Tommy, and in the love story between Tommy and Jenny. Jenny is the moral compass for the Donnelly family but she is fighting a battle for Tommy's soul that she is unlikely to win. The connection these two characters have remind me of epic lovers in the vein of Romeo and Juliet and was enough to suck me in to watching a few more episodes.
I admit it: I followed "The O.C." fervently during its first season, when Ryan was still a tough guy from Chino, Seth was still a videogame-playing geek, and Marissa and Summer were still hard-drinking, unattainable rich girls. (Plus, the theme song was rather catchy.)
Even though I stopped watching during the second season, when plotlines started getting preposterous and other TV shows found their way into my heart, I tuned in last night for the last hurrah of the Cohens and the Coopers.
Despite missing three years' worth of character and story development, I found myself easily absorbed in the finale, which was light-hearted, touching, and surprisingly poignant. Gone were the backstabbing, the affairs, and the gossip. Instead, the softer and mature sides of each character were highlighted.
Post-earthquake, everyone's future in Newport Beach is uncertain, especially as Ryan prepares to attend Berkeley College, Seth and Summer prepare to move in together, Julie plans for her wedding to a man called "The Bullit," and Sandy and Kirsten prepare for the birth of their daughter and consider moving out of their house.
Everyone in the episode comes together, offering rare moments of honesty, sacrifice, and support for each other. While visiting UC Berkeley, Ryan and Seth also visit the first house the Cohens lived in, the house they were the happiest. Though they fail to convince the same-sex couple living there to sell, the boys are not discouraged.
Meanwhile, Julie Cooper and Kaitlin share a tender mother-daughter exchange. In a rare moment of honesty, Julie reveals the real father of her upcoming baby while Kaitlin shows genuine concern for her mother's future.
On the wedding day, Julie shares another heartfelt moment with Summer. As Summer wonders if she is making the right decision to live with Seth, Julie confesses she regrets having married so young, never attending college and pursuing her own dreams. After she advises Summer to pursue her own life first, Summer gifts her with a locket holding a picture of Marissa. Both share a tearful moment that even brought me to tears because the scene was genuinely moving.
Back in Berkeley, the four Cohens are trying their best to buy their original house when Kirsten goes into labor. In Newport, when Julie discovers her best friend won't be at the wedding, she makes a thoughtful, emergency decision to have the wedding at Berkeley. While in the middle of the ceremony, the real father of Julie's baby interrupts the wedding and offers a chance to alter Julie's future, but she decides to stay single.
Afterwards, in a huge moment of sacrifice, the same-sex couple agree to sell the Berkeley house after seeing how much history and memories the Cohens had with it. Summer decides to pursue a temporary life of environmental activism, at Seth's encouragement, and Seth moves to Providence on his own. Ryan takes one last tour of the Newport home, his mind flashing back to all the memories he associates with each room and with Marissa.
Flashing a few years forward, we see more of what happens to each character: Seth and Summer finally get married in a Jewish wedding ceremony, Julie graduates from college, Sandy is a professor teaching law, and Ryan has a steady management job at a construction company. To bring the show back full-circle, we see Ryan noticing a young rough-and-tumble boy who is a reminder of his past life. In a "pay it forward" moment, Ryan asks the boy if he needs help, and the tumultuous four seasons of "The O.C." end on a hopeful, satisfying note that offers the inspiration of being able to change your own life and make it better for the future.
It's official: Meredith Grey didn't die last night in "Some Kind of Miracle," one of "Grey's Anatomy's" most intense episodes yet. I know, I know. She is one of the main characters. She couldn't really die. But I really did start to wonder if she might.
Though Meredith came back to the living after her near-drowning experience (potentially a suicidal one) in the frigid waters along Seattle's coast, before she woke up she spent some time among the already dead. Viewers got a full hour glimpse of the afterlife--at least according to Meredith Grey. Not surprisingly, it looked a lot like Seattle Grace hospital, and it was populated by former patients of Meredith, most notably Denny, Izzy's one-time fiance who died tragically at the end of last season. It is Denny who plays angel to Meredith's newcomer-to-heaven role. As Meredith scurries through the hallways trying to re-save long-dead patients, Denny tries to convince her that death is not what she wants, that she can still go back, she just needs to want life.
But it's an encounter with her mother that finally convinces her to end her heavenly sojourn.
For all the talk of McDreamy and McSteamy and the soap opera-like relationships ongoing in the show, "Grey's Anatomy" continues to wow me each week, producing moving, provocative storylines with so much depth and emotion that I can't help but tune in. Last night's was one of the show's best.
Feeling a little puffed up over my successful predictions of the winners of last year's Oscars, I am going to set myself up for possible ridicule again by putting myself on the line once more here at Idol Chatter, and share my thoughts and predictions for Sunday night's Oscars. With no overwhelming favorite coming out of this season's race for the coveted golden statue, I am feeling a little less confident about my Oscar expertise this season, but I still like my chances of having bragging rights again come Monday morning.
If my predictions help you win your office betting pool, just remember to send me a portion of your winnings, and if you want something fun to do while waiting for Sunday night's ceremony, be sure to check out the Beliefnet Film Awards page to see who won our own movie awards.
So, without further ado, my predictions
Performance by an actor in a leading role: The nominees are: Leonardo DiCaprio ("Blood Diamond"); Ryan Gosling ( "Half Nelson"); Peter O'Toole ( "Venus"); Will Smith ("The Pursuit of Happyness"); Forest Whitaker ("The Last King of Scotland")
My analysis: Even though Forest Whitaker won the SAG award , I think it is a two-horse race between two other actors--Leonardo DiCaprio and Peter O'Toole. Some critics feel that Oscar has to give it to O'Toole because he has never won an Oscar (well, he received an honorary one years ago, but he didn't win for "Lawrence of Arabia" or any other movie). I think not enough voters will take time to watch the tiny film "Venus" that O'Toole was in, leaving DiCaprio as the favorite.
Who will win: Leonardo DiCaprio, because he is a star on the rise who has given several great performances lately.
Who should win: In spite of my distaste for "The Notebook," I am a Ryan Gosling fan and "Half Nelson" was definitely Oscar-worthy.
Performance by an actor in a supporting role: The nominees are: Alan Arkin ( "Little Miss Sunshine"); Jackie Earle Haley ("Little Children"); Djimon Hounsou ("Blood Diamond"); Eddie Murphy ( "Dreamgirils"); Mark Wahlberg ("The Departed")
My analysis: While there is some sentimental support for veteran actors Alan Arkin and Jackie Earle Haley, this may be the one and only time Oscar voters will have a chance to recognize Eddie Murphy for his body of work.
Who will win: Eddie Murphy will squeak out a win over Alan Arkin.
Who should win: Djimon Hounsou, who has given several amazing performances in the last few years and is always overlooked for his work.
Performance by an actress in a leading role: The nominees are: Penélope Cruz ("Volver"); Judi Dench ("Notes on a Scandal"); Helen Mirren ("The Queen"); Meryl Streep ( "The Devil Wears Prada"); Kate Winslet ( "Little Children")
My analysis: The Eurpoeans dominate this category, with Streep being the only American in the bunch, but it is the British actress Helen Mirren who has won every award there is this season.
Who will win: Helen Mirren will win in the only slam-dunk of the evening.
Who should w
in: Helen Mirren deserves a gold statue for playing one gutsy broad in some really hideous outfits.
Performance by an actress in a supporting role: The nominees are: Adriana Barraza ( "Babel"); Cate Blanchett ("Notes on A Scandal"); Abigail Breslin ("Little Miss Sunshine"); Jennifer Hudson ("Dreamgirls"); Rinko Kikuchi ("Babel")
Who will win: Jennifer Hudson
Who should win: Anyone but Abigail Breslin. Now that I have that little rant out of my system, I think it is almost impossible to root against Jennifer Hudson.
Best motion picture of the year: The nominees are: "Babel"; "The Departed"; "Letters from Iwo Jima"; "Little Miss Sunshine"; "The Queen"
My analysis: There is some support for "Little Miss Sunshine" to be the feel-good, underdog upset, but I still believe that this is the year Oscar will finally get around to honoring Martin Scorsese with a best director award and best picture award.
Who will win: "The Departed"
Who should win: Any movie but "Little Miss Sunshine." Oops, I ranted again. Of all of the Oscar choices, my curtsey would go to "The Queen" for its fresh, creative, and insightful storytelling.
CNN reported yesterday that Kevin Federline, nee Mr. Britney Spears, planned on attending an emergency hearing today after learning that his former wife had left rehab for a second time after a brief 24 hour period, following months of bizarre behavior. While it is not known what issues were to be discussed, suspicions were that the backup dancer wanted to revisit the custody of sons Jayden James, 5-months-old, and Sean Preston, 17-months-old, which he and Spears are sharing until the end of this month.
However, TMZ.com reports that Britney has reported back to rehab and this time she has an ultimatum from Kevin: Get the help you need or I will file for full custody of the children. As a result, Kevin agreed to cancel today's emergency hearing.
More importantly, her mother, with whom she's had a strained relationship since her marriage to Federline, has reemerged. EXTRA reports that Mrs. Spears drove her daughter back to the Promises rehab facility, which led me to recall the "Wall of Britney" a co-worker and I had started many years ago. When Brit-Brit first came on the scene, she was cute, shiny and a real pop-cultural icon. We though Britney was brilliant in her seductive schmaltziness. But every once in a while we would question her sartorial selections by asking, "Where was her mother?" As in, how could she let her leave the house like that?
Unfortunately, that question was soon applicable to the popstress' life choices: My co-worker puts the pivotal moment at the nearly-nude Esquire magazine photo shoot; I place it sometime around the opening of NYLA, her lambasted Manhattan restaurant.
And while it's true that Britney is legally an adult, and her mother can't force her to do anything, it's also true that she is in the classic sense a little girl lost--that she needs to develop an identity and learn to love herself as much as we did. Right after they got married, Bit and K-Fed were voted by Beliefnet readers as the celebrity couple most in need of spiritual help. "If you asked me," I quipped, "this marriage isn't about spirituality, it's about sperm."
"What we have here is the making of a classic Ricki Lake episode. You know the ones, where a teen girl says she wants to have a baby because she wants something to love her? It happens to child stars all the time, they have the adoration of millions of fans, but crave real love, at least according to all those VH1 specials."
It's heart-breaking that I was seemingly so right and that Britney, who seemed to defy child star status, has become such a stereotype--turning to drugs and alcohol, behaving inappropriately and wondering why men she dates for five minutes don't love her enough and then betray her confidences to the tabloids. Even more tragic is the fact that Federline, whom tabloids lambasted for two years for going out and partying while Britney stayed home with the babies, is now being heralded by the same publications as father of the year.
This is not to say that Federline isn't and wasn't a good father, I am not intimately familiar with the situation and can't make a true judgement, although US weekly did a fairly good job of convincing me that he was quite a cad. However, Britney's downfall has provided a dramatically delightful redemption story for the failed rapper; he's even rubbing elbows, albeit briefly, with A-lister and former Britney flame, Justin Timberlake. No wonder Britney shaved her hair off; it saved her from pulling it all out!
Let'
s hope that the third time is the charm for Spears and she can reinvent herself, a la her idol, Madonna. Maybe minus the mysticism.
Business is booming at Body and Soul, the tattoo parlor where Britney Spears stopped on her much-reported breakdown last weekend, according to celeb tracker andPOP. Tattoo artist Max Scott says he expects many of the new bookings will be asking for the cross the shop put on Britney's hip.
That Britney's lost weekend would result in a proliferation of cross tattoos is another strange spiritual note in her recent slide. Never mind the shaved head that made her look like a novice nun in the wilds of the San Fernando Valley, or the Manichean name of her tattoo parlor of choice. The star began her tear by shaving her head at Esther's Hair Salon, named for owner Esther Tognozzi, but resonant for anyone familiar with Britney's spiritual journey (see Holly Rossi's informative post below): the biblical heroine Esther is the spiritual alter ego of Madonna, who is said to have introduced Britney to the Jewish mysticism of kabbalah.
TLC premiered a new reality series this week, "My Unique Family: The Witches Next Door," presumably because the very premise must sound weird (or even blasphemous!) to most viewers. "What?" you're meant to wonder with confusion. "Witches? A family of them?"
Meet the Rev. Kendra Vaughan Hovey, High Priestess of the First Wiccan Church of Duxbury, Mass., and her husband Tim, her daughter Alana (8 years old), and her son Alec (11), also witches. For the last year, Kendra has been working full time establishing her church and building a congregation. She wears a collar every day, like any other clergy might, whether she's doing official business or she's off to meet her kids at the bus. She does this to make a point: that a Wiccan priestess should act no differently than any other minister, and that it is important for the public to recognize her role and status in the community.
Perhaps the weirdest part of show is how normal this "witch family" is--kind, well-mannered, happy, devout, and trying to reconcile their lives with their faith--in comparison to some of their neighbors, in particular the Christian ones, who live in the same town.
At one point in the episode, Kendra's family and several others from their church take an afternoon hay ride on a beautiful sunny day, sing "church hymns" happily together as they bounce along, pick pumpkins, and endeavor to teach their kids to appreciate the earth and creation with some brief lessons from the Wiccan tradition. Pretty harmless, right? Well, as everyone is off frolicking among the pumpkins, the TLC people interview the tractor driver for the ride--who happens to be Christian--about what he thinks of Witch Kendra and company. His basic answer (I'm paraphrasing here) was that while he had to do his job for any paying customers--i.e., drive them around--he felt that "these people" were a blot on society, and that anyone who didn't accept God's son was damned to hell.
Zoom to the end of the hay ride when, like any other well-meaning, polite parents, the kids are encouraged to say "Thank you" to the hay-ride driver--which they do with great kid-like gusto. What's funny/sad about this moment is that as the witch kids are shouting their thanks, Mr. Christian hay-ride driver is wincing, as if it's not thanks they are giving to him, but evil, satanic spells that are pouring out of their mouths in his direction.
It's hard not to like Kendra and her family--they are about as happy and well-adjusted as any family can be. The kids have lots of friends, they say please and thank you, they play nicely, and they seem pretty happy to be witches (especially the little girl, Alana, who you just want to hug every time you see her), eagerly participating in services, giving thanks at the table, among other devotions. Kendra is incredibly articulate, likable, and has a healthy relationship with her husband. The biggest problem this family faces is that the First Wiccan Church of Duxbury is growing so quickly that the kids miss mom, since she's always on the phone doing "pastoral counseling" or writing at the computer.
Viewers who will not be offended by a family of Wiccans will certainly find learning about the tradition--its rituals, practices, and members--pretty fascinating. I'd say that so far, "The Witches Next Door" is a nice testament to a faith that many people have unjustified prejudices against. Once you get beyond the fact that its practices are unfamiliar--at least at first--Wicca doesn't seem all that strange after all. They sing, pray, give thanks, gather for worship, and certain members wear robe and cape-like garments during praise. Hmmmm. I wonder what other traditions do
that, too?
“Law & Order: Criminal Intent” is not a regular show for me, but when Michael Kress, our Idol Chatter editor, told me about the “Brother’s Keeper” episode last night, I was inclined to watch, even though the "televangelist has secret life and people close to him get hurt but his handlers look the other way while the money rolls in" storyline sounded old to me. I tuned in hoping for something deeper and more meaningful than the kind of caricatures that have fueled entertaining parodies from Leno to Letterman to (going back a bit here) SNL to Fletch to Phil Collins/Genesis.
I was hoping for a show that could portray something new and interesting about evangelical Christians and their leaders, a group that makes up 25 to 45 percent of our nation’s people (depending on which study you use and whose theology you trust). I think it would be awesomely wonderful if primetime shows could show and reveal more about the real Christian faith and sincere attempts to live it out among the millions of people who are serious about it.
So I was willing to endure the tired (if not trite) themes rolled out early in the show, with Tom Arnold playingtelevision preacher Calvin Riggins (and he tried to do it with a straight face!) and belting out the need to “accept the Lllllooohhhhrrrrdd” and “submit to Ggggaaawwwwwwdddd’s will.” Pastor Cal is a clueless guy who somehow has risen to pastoral fame while discussing his wife in terms like “she’d rather be dizzy than stupid.” After her death, Pastor Cal’s handlers posed her hands in prayer for the post-mortem photos. A main character debated “Creationism v. Evolution.” Riggins was called by opponents “just another big phony.” He pursued a constitutional amendment to ban gay marriage, had a $100 million evangelical institute called the Light of Heaven Evangelical Institute, and convinced his staff that his credit card bills at massage parlors were the work of old imps (devils) who were cloning his identity.
His closest attempt at fake repentance sounded something like “I knew that God was going to punish me for what I was doing because I knew that it was wrong, but I couldn’t stop.” I don’t know of a single Christian or church that would indulge that kind of thinking.
The most interesting stuff came from the intelligent questions of the decidedly non-believers in the show:
The mother of Vincent D’Onofrio’s Detective Robert Green asks why he’s crying about his wife’s death: “He’s supposed to be a believer--he’s supposed to believe that God had a reason for her death. So why is he crying?”
The television opponent of the preacher says, “If inflicting unbearable pain is how your God tests faith, then He’s a vindictive (expletive).”
And Green’s brothers shows up at the evangelist’s studios, complete with new faith and strong words, but with no coat or real hope for life. The church “cleaned him up” but it’s D’Onofrio who gives him a coat.
In the end, I fear that too many people have been given the wrong impression about what Jesus said and what Christianity is all about. In this show, the detectives were smart, warm and compassionate, while the Christians were goofy, lazy, and whimsical, not to mention immoral.
But in the scriptures, it’s Jesus who told the parable of The Good Samaritan, and it was he who said “come unto Me all who are weary, and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
I hope more shows will show that side of evangelical Christianity in the future. It’s more the norm, notwithstanding the missteps of a handful of high profile leaders and the stereotypes sustained by the news media and entertainment world.
Just when I thought "Boston Legal" was going to forever fade into the kind of redundancy that was starting to plague this entire season, it took a nice break from some of the whimsical hijinks and sexual politics that have hurt the show this season and returned to the kind of compelling moral dilemmas that occasionally give the show a spiritual base, including:
James Spader’s “Alan Shore” defending a woman who liberated her father’s plastinized (muscle-organ-filled skeleton) body from a museum exhibit;
Shore’s surprise opponent being none other than his old friend (and project) Jerry Espensen as Shore protects the employment rights of a UFO-believing therapist while being forced to choose between the success of his friend or his case;
“Clarence Bell,” the character who finds confidence in dressing and acting like a woman, being invited to deeper relational intimacy by his boss;
Main characters “Denise Bauer” and “Brad Chase” attempting to move from their friends-with-benefits relationship towards the longshot of marriage and ending up in an insults-turned-sincere discussion of gender roles in modern marriage;
William Shatner’s “Denny Crane” attending temple and defending Lutheranism (sort of) as part of his own spiritual reflection.
Yes, "Boston Legal" is a show that makes mockery seem mundane and whimsy seem well-mannered, but this list is a lot for a one-hour show to accomplish, and this one came through.
Crane’s visit to temple borders on insulting to the Jewish audience, but his admission that “to us Christians, Temple is a, uh, college” is actually fair satire because too few Christians know enough about the Jewish faith to treat it as they do. Further, too few Christians know enough about their denominations, illustrated by his statement “I know what we Lutherans believe; we believe in... Luther.”
Chase’s case that many successful working women actually would love to stay home and nurture healthy children seems so dramatically retro that it borders on insulting to Denise, but when he shares with candor “you’re lost,” her response is healthy and honest: “I’m scared.”
The plasticity case pointed out the absolute dangers of alcoholism by visually depictinghow ugly a ruined liver looks while gently proclaiming “promiscuity heightens the odds.”
And as usual, the deepest reflections came from Shore, who beat his friend by beating him up, hence the show’s title of “The Good Lawyer.” Shore was good at his job but he wasn’t good to his friend, the all-too-often choice of litigators.
“I want so badly to believe in God, not because of any words in the Bible or claims made by gospels, but because I suppose with our planet being polluted into extinction while country after country develops nuclear bombs coinciding with an unprecedented escalation in hatred while an entire continent is dying from AIDS and starvation as the rest of the world pretends not to notice, it’s just not that easy these days to have faith in man,” says Shore, the decided agnostic, before going on: “I’m not sure I if do believe in God, and even if I did, I’m not sure he’d be the same God who you believe in. But in the throws of doubt, I still do believe in man. I believe in man’s innate sense of humanity, his potential for compassion, for reason, righteousness in his heart.”
Now if we could just get the producers to help him realize that that ability for compassion, reason, righteousness and heights of humanity comes from God alone, then we’d really have ourselves a show!
In the end, Shatner’s Crane articulates a position probably held by all too many Christians who won’t admit it but whose life hypocrisy reveals it:
“Because if you believe in God and it turns out there’s no God, then ther
e’s no harm, no foul. But if you don’t believe in God and it turns out there is one... you’re screwed.”
“Why then,” says an intelligent Shore, “does He allow for all of this suffering that goes on?”
Hence the end of an admittedly risqué show that comes far closer to asking the kinds of compelling questions than many church services and bible studies lack, but were par for the course when Jesus walked the planet.
Britney Spears' much-balleyhooed head-shaving meltdown over the weekend had (at least) one religiously confusing aspect to it. While she was getting a white-and-pink cross tattooed on her lower hip, the former teen idol sported a large Star of David necklace that at one point was on backwards so it hung down her back--facing the many cameras that were filming her through the tattoo parlor window. Apparently, the one-time Southern Baptist has been wearing the star since January as a gesture of solidarity with her recent (Jewish) boyfriend.
A brief religious history of Britney Spears, for those who need a refresher:
1981-2003: Britney is raised a Southern Baptist, and touts her faith as her inspiration for remaining a virgin.
2003: Britney becomes friends with Madonna, who brings her into the celebrity Kabbalah fold.
January 2006: Britney dabbles in Hinduism, taking her baby son to be blessed at a Malibu Hindu Temple.
May 2006: Britney splits from her buddy Madge and renounces Kabbalah, declaring, "my baby is my religion."
February 2007: Newly divorced, Britney briefly dates Isaac Cohen (hmm, do we think he's Jewish?) and is photographed wearing a large Star of David necklace on the party circuit even after they break up.
Bloggers and entertainment reporters are all atwitter about the possible reasons behind Britney's bizarre behavior, speculating about everything from addiction to post-partum depression to irreversible follicle damage from harsh chemical hair dyes. But whatever the specific reason for her weekend oddities, no one can deny that this is a young woman who seems lost and overwhelmed in a media climate that she herself works really hard to perpetuate. It sounds more exhausting than fun. And not a little sad that she can't even find a single faith to be a lasting port in the long, long storm of her life.
In "Breach," director Billy Ray of "Shattered Glass" tells yet another gripping story of one man's utter duplicitousness. This time around, however, the man in question, Robert Hanssen--played brilliantly by Chris Cooper--succeeds in bringing down not only himself, but the whole FBI with him. Dozens of FBI agents and assets are compromised, and the entire Bureau's identity is thrown into crisis over Hanssen's 20-year stint as a double agent for the Soviets.
What's puzzling about Hanssen--considered "the greatest breach" in the FBI's history--is the fact that he is a devout Catholic. His entire family is Opus Dei, he attends daily Mass, goes to confession regularly, prays the rosary constantly, and his office and home are filled with crucifixes and religious paraphernalia.
How can a man this orthodox in his religious ties become such a criminal? How could he, in good conscience, live with himself knowing that he was responsible for the deaths of over 50 men and women based on the intelligence he passed along in exchange for millions?
Is it possible that this faith enabled the behavior, rather than challenged it?
This is what I left the theater wondering. Is it possible that going through the sacrament of confession, with its corresponding penance--daily Masses, rosaries, etc.--was how Hanssen somehow maintained the behavior in his own mind? Did he believe that, although he committed treason regularly, he could jsut walk into a church seeking absolution and it would be granted, and that with enough penitent acts he could "pay" for his sins?
Or did his devout Catholicism ultimately break him--tormenting his conscience with guilt and the knowledge that true penance would only come through getting caught by the people he betrayed?
It's hard to know the role that faith truly played in Robert Hanssen's 20-year career of treason and in his subsequent fall, but there's no doubt that director Billy Ray has delivered a stunning, provocative film. Go with a friend because you will want to talk about it afterward.
The press this week about Britney Spears has centered on a single puzzle--what's going through that newly bald head? For a while, Britney's life has been "The Truman Show" meets "Real World." In the past week, reports from the disaster-in-progess have come so frequently we seem to be watching in real-time. The few remaining gaps in the news cycle only give the car-wreck that authentic slo-mo feel. Late-night talk show host Craig Ferguson punctuated her most recent slide when he swore off the Britney jokes because he didn't want to pick on someone who is so vulnerable.
The question is, when did Britney become so vulnerable? Not last weekend, when she buzzed off her hair in a San Fernando Valley hair salon, then went for a couple of new tattoos. Only Americans, it seems, can repeatedly be shocked when a child star--who, after all, has everything we'd need to be happy, right?--makes a bumpy transition to adulthood. None of us are responsible for what's happened to Britney--or Judy Garland, Liz Taylor, or lesser lights like the now cleaned-up and Oscar-nominated Jackie Earle Haley. But maybe the Craig Fergusons of the world could clue in earlier when the next generation of wealthy, wattage-weary teenagers begin their swoon.
The National Basketball Association and the City of Las Vegas’ tourism bureau went prime-time on TNT on Sunday night, and we found out that these players are clearly gifted for high levels of competition, but far less gifted at show business. It’s actually a compliment to them that, well, they don’t know how to fake it. The NBA is among the best reality shows in television, with real people competing against motivated opponents at the heights of their skills according to the rules of the game. However, the All-Start game--while good for tourism--looks a lot like the rest of what passes for “reality TV”: it’s over-produced and less than authentic. I’m glad the “real” season still lies ahead on TNT.
First, the players had to stand still and look comfortable during introductions amidst fireworks, cabaret bands, and Wayne Newton singing “Dankeshane” while keeping a straight face. The players looked as natural in that setting as Rocky doing commercials in "Rocky II."
As the beautiful blimp shots of the lighted city faded and the cameras went indoors to the start of the game, things got more awkward. The NBA All-Star game, you see, is designed to showcase the NBA’s biggest talent in prime time, and there’s an unwritten rule that no defense is played in the first three quarters. It doesn’t look anything like a real NBA game, but more like a show. I think these guys are better at competing than acting, and that’s a good thing.
Not even all of the cut-away shots of Ahnold, Maria Shriver, P. Diddy, Barry Bonds, Prince, Dave Chapelle, and the Mayor of Las Vegas could hide the fact that these guys just aren’t used to going half-speed and trying to make each other look good. More shots of Beyonce, Chris Tucker, Jayzee, Adam Sandler, Gabrielle Union, Eva Longoria, and Mary J. Blige were also nice, but it was interesting that the entertainers were in the audience while the stage-players were uncomfortable in their roles.
Shaquille O’Neal missed three dunks with nobody guarding him. Lebron James tried to pass and set-up his teammates but they thought it was his cue to show off. Several players threw wonderful and ballet-like behind-the-back passes to... the other team! At one point, five defensive players stood motionless while Shaq fumbled the ball out of bounds, got it back from the refs, got it again on a rebound and dunked it home while five defenders watched. In returning the favor at the other end, five opponents watched superstar Kevin Garrett miss two uncontested lay-ups before taking the ball and heading the other way, where O’Neal missed another lay-up and then followed up with a dunk against the red carpet non-defense. The West players were feeding Kobe Bryant as if the script said he was supposed to be the MVP, but he missed three easy early shots with no one guarding him and dropped two passes.
Thankfully, professional entertainers like Christina Aguilera, Toni Braxton, and the Cirque de Soleil team were ready to perform a real show at halftime. (I still can’t believe that they actually showed “instant replay” of Wayne Newton’s lip-sync!)
By the time it was over, the West beat the East, 153-132, and Kobe Bryant was the game’s MVP. Las Vegas tourism won big and the rumors of a potential NBA team in Las Vegas were fueled. And the fourth quarter was the best, because show cues were over and all that was left was basketball.
Even though Ryan Gosling ( "The Notebook") is up for an Academy Award for his performance in the indie film "Half Nelson," the film played in such limited release last summer that it's hard to imagine many outside of Hollywood caught it in theaters. Fortunately, Gosling's performance as a drug-addicted teacher at an urban middle school was released on DVD this week. "Half Nelson" flips every stereotype found in other inspirational teacher movies on its head and is not so much a movie about redemption, but a story about offering grace to those around us, regardless of whether or not their lives are ever redeemed.
Dan Dunne (Gosling) is an unorthodox history teacher who despises the school-approved curriculum and uses a more thought-provoking style of teaching. He teaches his students that every major historical event can be explained by dialectics--the idea that conflict is created by two opposing forces. Dialectics could also describe Dunne's life. While he desires to be the kind of teacher who changes the world one student at a time, his ideals are at odds with his love of crack. His secret drug habit is dscovered by one of his students, a 13-year-old girl named Drey, who finds him getting high in a locker room after school. It is a moment of total humiliation for Dunne, but it is also the beginning of an unusual friendship.
In this story, it is Drey (brilliantly played by Shareeka Epps) who becomes something of a mentor to Dunne, instead of the other way around. She has a brother in jail because of drugs, an absentee father, and a mother who works all of the time. But even without any socioeconomic advantages, Drey is determined to get an education and make something of her life. When the adults around her fail her again and again, she refuses to let that define her view of herself.
On the other hand, it seems as if Dunne can only define himself by the failures in his personal life. His connection with Drey is one of the few bright spots in his life, but even as he sees the need for Drey to have a father figure in her life, it is still not enough to make him stop using drugs. Everty time he takes a step forward to sobriety, he slides two steps back. Still, Drey stays by his side because she understands his frustration with a bleak world.
"Half Nelson" is powerful storytelling, not only because of what happens to these two characters, but also because of what doesn't happen to them. There is not an uplifitng, inspiring transformation to Dunne. Just as the audience is never give much of an explanation as to why Dunne is so messed up to begin with, the movie offers little in the way of answers. Dunne does not seem to have a huge impact on the lives of his students in spite of his methods in class, as we might expect. Dunne doesn't kick his drug habit--yet--though there is a glimmer of possibility that he will. The only certainty is that Drey will continue to love him and forgive him for his shortcomings. As an audience we are left with the hope that this will be enough to help Dunne change, but, just like in real life, there are no guarantees.
For its uneasy but natural look at the struggle to accept grace when other, opposing forces pull at the soul, "Half Nelson" should have been a stronger contender in this year's Oscar race, and is now officially added to my Top Ten list for 2006.
Finally, Madea goes on vacation and we get to see what kind of work Tyler Perry does when he stays behind the scenes. The results are magical, as depicted in his latest film, "Daddy's Little Girls." The story follows Monty (Idris Elba), a single father trying to make a life for himself and his three little girls. The trailers would have you believe that this is the love story of Monty the mechanic and Julia the jaded lawyer (Gabrielle Union) and their struggle to connect because of his sharp-tongued daughters, but the movie is so much smarter than that and sustains itself on a much less hackneyed plot.
Monty is a real black man, one who struggles between providing for his children and being successful, and like most single parents he makes sacrifices for their benefit. This scenario rarely plays out in black films, but Perry sees fit to show the world a single black father wanting to provide for his children not out of obligation but out of love. Love isn't the only thing that drives Monty, faith gives him a good revving-up as well.
When custody of his daughters is granted to his incapable ex-girlfriend whose boyfriend is the drug lord of their neighborhood, Monty turns to faith instead of fisticuffs—for most of the movie at least, Perry likes revenge too. The picture of faith, as painted appropriately by Perry, occurs in a quasi-storefront church led by none other than real-life Atlanta mega-preacher, Bishop Eddie Long. Not to be overlooked in his film debut, Bishop Long brings a word so powerful that I had to write it down in the middle of the movie. Like clockwork, after a sermon, a soul-stirring gospel song and a pat on the back—by Louis Gossett Jr., no less--Monty is able to keep it moving and fight for those cute kids.
What was even more refreshing about this film is that, though Madea is missing and Perry didn't find a way to squeeze himself in for self-aggrandizement's sake, he stuck with the other third of his formula: applying faith-based principles for ordinary-people consumption. Faith in action was witnessed less the falling out and multiple church scenes where crackheads bust through the doors and belt to the high heavens--see "Diary of a Mad Black Woman." This time around, it was a palatable version of "Taste and see that the Lord is good."
"Daddy's Little Girls" is quite possibly the best Tyler Perry movie to date and true evidence that he has entered the big leagues--and that the best is yet to come.
posted by Nicole Symmonds @ 11:16 AM | Permalink |
Time was, not so long ago, that the game superseded just about anything for professional athletes. Perhaps a day off was warranted if a close family member died, but not much else could tear a player away from those temporary, stand-in family members we call teammates--not even the birth of a child. There are signs, however, that times are changing for the better, and that more and more pros are exactly where they belong when their wives are in labor: right beside them in the delivery room.
Just in the past few weeks, we've hear of two high-profile examples: Tiger Woods is prepared to skip the British Open for the birth of his first cub, and Carlos Delgado, the N.Y. Mets' powerhouse first baseman, will likely miss Opening Day and the season's first few games after that to be in Puerto Rico to help usher his first child from womb to room.
Of course, it's not universal, at least not yet. Just last September, Florida Marlins manager Joe Girardi made clear that he wouldn't miss any games for the birth of his third child (though, to be fair, he was in the delivery room for the birth before high-tailing it to the stadium in time for the game... but still).
As for Delgado, he was quoted as saying, "My child comes first." That once would have been considered a radical statement. Thankfully, it's now ho-hum.
I walked into the theater with great trepidation to see Walt Disney's film adaptation of Katherine Paterson's Newbery Award-winning "Bridge to Terabithia," a story about a friendship between a boy and a girl, Jess and Leslie. From the look of the commercials, I feared that this beloved novel from my youth--so widely read still today in schools, touted by children's librarians and teachers everywhere--had been Disney-fied into a sugar-coated fairytale, complete with dancing creatures and perhaps even a song or two. Advertisements for the film are a barrage of fantastical creatures--inventions that indeed are part of Jess's and Leslie's imaginative play in the novel--but which never come to life in the way that C.S. Lewis's Pevensie children experience Narnia as a parallel world, but a also a real one in "The Chronicles of Narnia."
Basically, I worried that Disney had turned "Bridge to Terabithia" into a fantasy film.
Well, they did not, I am pleasantly surprised to report. In fact, the movie follows Paterson's novel so faithfully that much of the characters' dialogue is taken straight out of the novel--including the bits when Jess, Leslie, and Jess's younger sister May Belle talk about whether Leslie will go to hell because she doesn't believe in the Bible:
"You gotta believe the Bible, Leslie," says May Belle as they bounce in the back of the family pickup truck on their way back from Leslie's first time ever at a church. When Leslie asks why believing in the Bible is so important, little May Belle explains," 'Cause if you don't believe the Bible, God'll damn you to hell when you die." Jess adds his words of agreement about the matter, though rather reluctantly.
And as the film doesn't shrink from exploring the religious themes in the novel, neither does it hold back from showcasing what once was typical in the lives of children, but grows scarcer in our world of scheduled, organized, parent-supervised and parent-led play: a boy and a girl who find amusement not on the soccer field or with an X-Box or through a play-date, but by running off into the woods each day after school, rain or shine. The friendship between Leslie and Jess is built on the simplicity of finding a rope swing tied to a tree, building a fort in the woods, and letting their imaginations run wild to this place called Terabithia, which Leslie invents through the sounds of the forest, the birds in the trees, the rustling of the wind--all of which become part of their make-believe after school world where they seek shelter from family troubles and school bullies among other challenges related to growing up.
As I sat in the theater, I couldn't help remembering my own childhood, which was filled with endless days where I would run off with the rest of the neighborhood kids to build forts in the woods with old boards, blankets, and whatever materials we could find, only coming home when my Mom yelled out that it was time for lunch or dinner. And I couldn't help thinking about how this kind of play seems to be a thing of the past, given parents' fears about children being out of sight, and parents' desires for kids to constantly be in supervised learning environments. I wondered if "Bridge to Terabithia" might seem to some kids like a fantasy film, because imagined, unsupervised play like that of Jess and Leslie is becoming a thing of the past.
But I also worried--given the novel and the film's turn
ing point and center (which I will not reveal here)--if, while on the one hand, this story opens the eyes of children and parents about a special kind of childhood play, at the same time it may serve as a cautionary tale against allowing children and their imaginations such freedoms.
A word of warning to parents: Though commercials make this film look like a "Narnia" movie of sorts, I must admit my intense surprise to walk into the theater and see it filled with parents with children as young as four. This is certainly a movie parents should see with their children, but it is a story for older children, not nursery school kids and kindergartners. At the dark, intense point on which the story turns, it was clear from the loud gasps among virtually all the parents in the theater that they were unfamiliar with the major theme of Paterson's novel, and the reason why she wrote the story.
That said, if you were worried that Disney had sugar-coated this classic story, fear not. This film is a faithful tribute to one of the most beloved stories the prolific Katherine Paterson has left to children, old and young.
Does God work through thunderbolts or more subtly? That's the underlying theme of "Amazing Grace," an earnest, informative, and often stirring biopic of the heroic William Wilberforce, who battled the slave trade for nearly 20 years in England's Parliament.
As a chronicle of those decades, "Amazing Grace" is the story of repeated, crushing failure. Its heroes are Hollywood's traditional worst nightmare: intolerant, fanatical Christians who keep raving about religion and Won't Settle Down. Refusing to tolerate the slave trade, scorning appeasement or phaseouts, Wilberforce's team hammers complacent British society over and over and over. We see good men quarrel with each other, ruin their health, and almost despair over a cause that seems impossible to win. (We also see much shouting in Parliament, and plenty of elaborate 18th-century wigs.) What we don't see--true to British history and true to many spiritual autobiographies--is a lot of success. At least, not for a long, long time.
The center of it all is Wilberforce himself, played by Ioan Gruffudd as an ecstatic nature-lover and God-worshipper who feeds beggars at his own table and jumps up in crowded rooms to sing a hymn (guess which one?). At first, it's hard to believe a politician as saintly as Wilberforce actually existed. But a subsequent Wiki search confirms that, yes, Wilberforce really was that good--he was even a co-founder of the original Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. In fact, Wilberforce and his fellow evangelical, anti-slavery Parliamentarians were sniffily called the "Saints" by the other lawmakers.
The film begins several years into Wilberforce's crusade, when he is broken with disappointment, dependent on an opiate, and about to give up: "I was chosen for this task and I failed," he says. We see flashbacks about his initial hopes, and then the machinations of legislators who undermined him. Enter a Lovely Youth Thing who will restore his faith in himself and his cause. Unfortunately, actress Romola Garai is ill-cast and unpersuasive as Wilberforce's love interest and future wife; she seems to view tête-à-têtes about slavery as opportunities for flirting and bosom-heaving.
More believable is Albert Finney's excellent portrayal of John Newton, the former slave ship owner who penned "Amazing Grace." Newton is that rarity on the silver screen: a passionate and outspoken Christian who doesn't dabble in euphemisms: "I am a great sinner, and Christ is a great savior," he famously declares when Wilberforce visits him at his church. It's Newton who, according to the film if not history, encourages Wilberforce to begin his political work. Years later, as Wilberforce inches closer to his goal, Newton has gone blind. In one moving scene, Newton raises his sightless eyes and thanks God he now knows how wrong he was to traffic in humans: "I once was blind, but now I see. At last it's true."
Strangely, the film spends little time with these humans--the ones whose lives were at stake, the black men and women whom so few really saw in Wilberforce's day. North African singer Youssou N'Dour has a quiet dignity and strength in the role of Oloudauh Equiano, a black abolitionist who wrote down his experiences as a slave and influenced many of the "Saints." Mostly, however, the movie shows us white men talking in oak-paneled rooms.
Towards its end, the film downplays Wilberforce's religiosity. Still, the power of his spirit comes through, and we can sense the weary thankfulness mingled with his joy when at last England's slave trade is abolished. "When people speak of great men, rarely do
they think of peace," says one of his fellow lawmakers. Wilberforce is that brilliant and inspiring exception: a man who steadily, year after year, without violence and without fireworks, tried to stop a great evil. Rather than use lightning bolts, as one of the characters says, "God sometimes does his work with gentle drizzle."
Before seeing the movie "Amazing Grace," I didn't know who William Wilberforce was. I had no idea that the namesake of Wilberforce University, the nation's first historically black college, was a British man who fought long and hard for the abolition of slavery in the 18th century. It was also news to me that John Newton, the author of "Amazing Grace," was a former slave ship owner who turned to the church to atone for the sins of his earlier life.
I point out these two facts to acknowledge what I believe is the strongest selling point for this movie: knowledge. Sure, there is much to mock about the film, what with its follicular achievements—yes, those are wigs--and heaving bosoms, namely those of Barbara (Romola Garai), the headstrong woman who was smitten with Wilberforce and had a décolletage to die for. And there was an over-abundance of scenes worthy of 18th-century C-SPAN. But despite all of that, the film offered a deeply profound learning experience.
The story follows Wilberforce (Ioan Gruffuld), one of the youngest members in the House of Commons, in his fight to abolish slavery in the British Empire. Guided by God, a song, and a band of brothers committed to the cause, Wilberforce spent a great deal of his life bringing a voice to the injustice of the slave trade. Much of the movie takes place in Parliament, but it also manages to paint a vivid—if not sickening—picture of the brutality of the slave trade and the ignorance of the British at that time.
As an African-American woman who finds it particularly difficult to sit through movies dealing with the historic struggles of Africans and African Americans, "Amazing Grace" pulled me in, in an almost divine manner. It became apparent to me that I needed to go back to the basics. All of the books that I was only obligated to read for school would now be read voluntarily. This movie allowed me to consider every person, both black and white, who made a way for me. I walked away feeling like John Newton, whom after going blind, finally put his story on paper and only then did he feel like he could finally see.
The current issue of Newsweek features an interesting follow-up to the potential pseudo-controversy surrounding the movie "Save Me," which recently made an appearance at the Sundance Film Festival. The Newsweek article features a surprisingly in-depth interview with actor Chad Allen, who received an onslaught of publicity last year for being an outspoken homosexual who was cast as a Christian missionary in a movie made by Christians, "End of the Spear." The film "Save Me" centers around the journey of a gay man who is sent to be "degayified," if you will, at a Christian treatment facility--and it seems that Allen's choice to be in the movie is a conscious effort to continue the dialogue about homosexuality and Christianity.
Allen reveals in the interview that the movie portrays evangelicals in a more positive light in part because of the way he was treated with respect and love on the "End of the Spear" set when he was expecting to be treated with bigotry. He also states that he believes "in the importance of having this conversation about God and gay. I think that 'End of the Spear' opened up that conversation, and 'Save Me' is the perfect follow-up to it."
Perhaps the most unsettling part of the interview for many Christians who might read the article is the part where Allen very articulately discusses the whopping seven passages in the Bible that address homosexual behavior specifically and how he feels they are misinterpreted. At the least , his comments are a reminder to me that Christians need to at least acknoweldge there is some gray area in dealing with this topic. At the most, his comments, along with the comments of more and more in the gay community, are a thoughtful inquiry into whether or not evangelical Christianity theology has completely missed the mark on this issue.
I'd like to think that Christian vegetables--like VeggieTales' Larry the Cucumber--will never be passé. There is, however, a new kid on the block in evangelical children's entertainment: Max Lucado's "Hermie, a Common Caterpillar" series.
The series' latest DVD is "Milo, the Mantis Who Wouldn't Pray." Starring a bug proprietor who loses his snack shack, the show focuses on Milo's inability to talk to God about his problem. He sings about prayer, he dances, he wonders if he should use fancier words like "Thou," he asks why heavenly help doesn't arrive. But for upwards of 20 minutes, Milo the mantis doesn't say a certain word we're waiting for.
It comes at last. After Milo realizes that God has, in fact, sent him help in the form of his friends, he vows to change his ways. "From now on," he pledges, "I'll be a praying mantis."
Angels found their way to "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" last night in Matt Albie's flashback to the days when he was still a new (and struggling) "Studio 60" writer seeking attention from the senior staff and attention from new hire-comedienne Harriet Hayes.
In an attempt to get a fresh sketch noticed by writing for his crush, Matt starts off on the wrong foot by pitching an idea about "crazy Christians" to Harriet. To illustrate the kookiness of Red State believers, Matt asks with disbelief: "Did you know 68% of Americans believe in angels?"
After he calls the Religious Right ''honey-crusted nut bars," an offended Harriet cuts off Matt with the revelation: "I'm a honey-crusted nut bar."
Shocked and embarrassed, Matt thinks of a way to get back into Harriet's good graces. They argue about the existence of angels--Matt asking how many exist, while Harriet mentions the Book of Revelation, where it's written that "10 thousand times 10 thousand" (or, 1 million) angels exist.
As Matt wraps his head around the concept of angels, he also attempts to help Tim Batale, a writer/friend fired from "Studio 60" for his addiction to pills. Even though nobody on the present-day "Studio 60" crew remembers Batale, Matt's flashbacks repeatedly reveal personal encounters with Tim, always dressed in a blue shirt and khakis.
Even when Matt realizes Tim Batale (an anagram of Matt Albie) never did exist but was a hallucination created from Matt's present-day addiction to pills, one wonders if Tim wasn't a metaphysical angel after all. In a partially drugged, dream-like state, Matt found himself face-to-face with an older mentor/angel meant to mirror his future self; an angel meant to warn Matt of the terrible results of addiction. Whether or not Tim Batale reappears in future flashback episodes, hopefully Matt will still find some sort of angel to help him kick his escalating dependency on pills.
Don't miss the Science Times section of The New York Times today: it's filled with religious kitsch and memorabilia!
Ever wanted to see that famous Tennessee cinnamon roll that boasts the face of Mother Teresa? Or the Florida grilled cheese sandwich with an apparition of Mother Mary on one of its Wonder Bread slices (and that sold on EBay for $28,000)? Or Jesus on the half shell?
Last night's Grammy's weren't about outrageous rocker antics (although I did hear one of the Red Hot Chili Peppers curse during a pre-show on another station), or about big rapper feuds. Instead, the main themes of the night were faith and politics.
Mary J. Blige, who recently became a born-again Christian, won three awards for Best R&B Song ("Be Without You"), Best R&B Album ("The Breakthrough"), and Best Female R&B Vocal Performance ("Be Without You"). Her acceptance speeches, particularly the first one, were long, but first and foremost she chose to praise God, thanking "My Father God, My Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." She also spoke about how she's grown into a better human being and that she's happy she's finally being spoken about positively after years of people taking about her negatively. She also said she wants to use her new success to "build bridges, not burn them." I imagine her recent embrace of religion has something to do with her new attitude and self-image.
In a recent interview with Rolling Stone Magazine, Blige said, "I'm not the best singer, but I have the most soul." She proved this last night as she sang "Be Without You" with a passion not often seen in music today. She was, by far, one of the best acts of the night.
"American Idol" winner and country singer Carrie Underwood took home two awards, Best New Artist and Best Female Country Vocal for "Jesus Take the Wheel," a song about letting Christ into your life. Although Underwood didn't sing her faithful hit at the show, she did a wonderful rendition of "San Antonio Rose" by Bob Wills & the Texas Playboys. And, in a tribute to the Eagles, sung "Desperado." Interestingly, the Christian singer was recently featured in a hilarious parody song, "Tony Romo," sung to the tune of "Desperado," which was a YouTube sensation for weeks before it was recently yanked. The song focuses on the Dallas Cowboys quarterback and includes an alleged relationship with Underwood as one of the reasons for his horrible performance towards the end of the season. Apparently the humor was lost on Underwood and the audience, but I found it very amusing.
The biggest winners of the night were country trio the Dixie Chicks, who won all five of the awards they were nominated for, including Record, Song, and Album of the Year. This was a huge surprise to me, because I didn't think the Academy would give so many honors to such a controversial group. (It was only a few years ago that the Chicks were blacklisted around the country for making critical remarks about President Bush and the Iraq war while performing abroad).
I must say, I was disappointed with their wins, partially because I can't stand Natalie Maines' cockiness. During one of their acceptance speeches she said, "to quote the great 'Simpsons'--Ha-ha," as she imitated Nelson, the cartoon's bully. Besides, I think the award should have gone to an artist with actual talent, which, in my opinion, would have been anyone else they were up against (OK, except for James Blunt).
Today, my fellow Idol Chatterer Paul O' Donnell says that Maines should have been more graceful in accepting her awards and should take "her redemption...as a gift." I couldn't agree more. Our right to freedom of speech is something writers and artists embrace and appreciate, but personally I think it's in bad taste to use your concerts as a political platform to trash the leader of your country--especially to other countries. For the Academy to have honored them the way they did last night means that not only has the country forgiven them, but that their fellow artists were going to stand behind them. However, instead of being humbled while acceptin
g her awards--which they said they were--her behavior was about as tacky as her dress.
And, in other Grammy news, the mainstream blues guitarist-turned Christian artist Johnny Lang won in the category for Best Rock or Rap Gospel Album for "Turn Around" (you can read a Beliefnet interview with him here); Christian rockers Third Day won Best Pop/Contemporary Album for "Wherever You Are;" Country singer Alan Jackson won best Southern, Country, or Bluegrass Gospel Album for "Glory Train;" Best Traditional Gospel Album went to Israel & New Breed for "Alive in South Africa;" Best Contemporary R&B Gospel Album went to Kirk Franklin for "Hero" (he also won Best Gospel Song for "Imagine Me"), and Yolanda Adams won Best Gospel Performance for "Victory" off the soundtrack for the movie "The Gospel."
For a complete listing of Grammy winners click here.
What did you think about the show? Any winners that surprised you?
Mary J. Blige wasn't the only artist giving props to Jesus last night at the Grammy Awards. The 2006 American Idol winner Carrie Underwood collected two awards--the first, off-screen for Best Female Country Vocal Performance--and the second in front of millions of viewers for Best New Artist. (The writers of her hit single, "Jesus, Take the Wheel" also won a Grammy yesterday.)
When the stunning and poised Underwood arrived at the podium to accept her award, breathless from having just belted a series of covers with the Rascal Flatts just moments before, her first thanks went to God, but her God-gratitude was quickly followed up by her acknolwedgment that she "owes everything" to "American Idol." She may indeed owe God for her gorgeous voice and looks, but she certainly wasn't about to slight the show that made her a star.
Though I am not a fan of "American Idol"--I find it painful to watch and I loathe the way it always seems to humiliate at least one person every night it's on--I can't help but be happy the show unearthed the likes of Underwood. She's impressive in all sort of ways, whether it's her perfect country twang when she sings ballads or that honky-tonk tone she hits when singing rock, or the fact that she appeared tastefully dressed (aka, fully dressed) last night despite her many costume changes.
It's nice to see a young woman reach this level of pop stardom without going through a Britney or Christina phase--at least so far.
When "Heroes," the NBC hit about ordinary people who develop extraordinary powers, returned from winter break several weeks ago, we met a new citizen with supernatural abilities, Claude. Played by "Dr. Who's " Christopher Eccleston, Claude--whose full name is Claude Rains (a not-so-subtle homage to the actor who portrayed the invisible man)--is a dishelved loner who has the power of invisibility and takes full advantage of it by picking the pockets of fellow New Yorkers. But low-and-behold, Peter Petrelli, a nurse with the ability to replicate the powers of other "heroes" with whom he comes into contact, can see him as clear as one of Hiro's comics or Isaac's paintings.
From the get-go, Claude wants nothing to do with Peter. But having just come out of a coma induced by his body's inability to store and make sense of all the powers he's been absorbing (flight, self-healing, etc.), Peter is desperate to find someone to teach him how to control his ability, so he won't blow up from an overload of these powers, literally, and destroy the world. After some hemming and hawing, the misanthropic Claude agrees to mentor Peter, perhaps realizing that New York blowing up would eat into his purloined profits.
By last week's episode, Claude had not only turned into the character with the best one-liners on the show, but a real Zen master. Peter can't access his powers, control them and use them at will, says Claude, because of his attachments; a very Buddhist concept indeed, the idea that attachment brings about sufferring. In this case, according to Claude's theory, Peter's attachments are not only causing him to suffer, but are putting the world in danger. Besides, that's what works for Claude who apparently has even disentangled himself with an attachment to bathing.
"You worry a lot about your people, don't you?" Claude asks Peter. "Your friends, your mother, your brother. No wonder your head's all clogged. You're still sunk under."
"The people I love are not distractions!" Peter retorts.
"Then why can't you fly?" asks Claude. "You've done it. Your body remembers how. The only thing standing in your way is you."
And even more bad news for Peter, even the mere fact that he's on a quest to Save The Cheerleader, Save the World could be detrimental to his mission. Buddhanet.net sums it up quite well when describing the importance of non-attachment:
"Buddhism goes beyond doing good and being good. One must not be attached to good deeds or the idea of doing good; otherwise it is just another form of craving." Just can't win for losing.
And while Claude doesn't break into any real koans--traditional Zen riddles meant to break down logical thinking--he emphasizes breathing and engages in unconventional training often described in ancient Zen texts: slapping a student or yelling at them as a means of encouraging focus.
Of course, Claude takes is a little bit further and pushes Peter off a 30-foot building. Peter plummets to the ground like a bowling ball only to end up crumpled on top of a taxi cab with a metal bar protuding through torso. It looks like a failed experiment, unitl Peter says that not only did he not disengage from the people in his life, but the fact that he thought about them saved his life; admitting that thinking about the cute Texan cheerleader who could heal herself allowed himself to survive the mortal wound.
"You were wrong," Peter tells Claude. "I don't have to cut her out! I have to remember her! How she made me feel!" (Bringing to mind Harry Potter and his Patronus.) But, before Peter can elaborate his eyes white over and he starts screaming that he's losing it. At which point, Claude masters a very un-zenlike right hook, knocks Peter out cold and sagely declares, "Well, it's a start."
It was a night for unity and positivity at the Grammys--except for one glaring omission!
“The Police” got back together. African-American-Old-Guy Stevie Wonder won with Older-White-Guy Tony Bennett. Justin Timberlake’s “What Goes Around” featured a white guy singing with a largely African-American back-up band while mixing pop and soul with rap and R&B while orchestra strings filled the background. Rascal Flats covered Don Henley, Carrie Underwood covered really old-time Country guy Bob Wills, and old folks from Burt Bacharach to Joan Baez to Herb Alpert were were strongly featured.
Lionel Ritchie and Smokey Robinson joined Chris Brown and Christina Aguilera in a classic retrospective, while three young individual acts (Corinne Bailey Rae, John Legend, and John Mayer) performed together. Breakout winner Carrie Underwood let “Jesus Take the Wheel,” while Oprah Winfrey and Bill O’Reilly both managed to make it into the same acceptance speech! There were as many movie star and politician presenters as musicians.
But one glaring contrast came in comparing the spirit and content of two of the evening’s big winners' acceptance speeches. Mary J. Blige was full of faith-based inspiration, while the the Dixie Chicks were full of vindication-inspired redemption. In the end, it appears both were fulfilled.
“I just have to thank my Father God, my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ,” said Mary J. Blige upon her first win (for Best R&B album) before even getting to her note card. “This is the first time I’ve ever been up here to receive anything, and I thank you so much.” And then she got to her notes. “I just want to thank God for this album and this award for this album. It shows that I’m... growing into a better human being.”
After winning her second award, she was completely ad lib: “Praise you Father, Thank you Jesus.” No notes. “I done thanked everybody I could possibly think of. It’s in the valley that we realize who we really are. It’s in the success that we realize who we really are. I want to use by success to build bridges, not to burn ‘em.”
By comparison, the Dixie Chicks had also burned quite a few bridges with their political statements and tough stance in response to it. Their award-winning hit “Not Ready to Make Nice” was a strategic collaboration with writer Dan Wilson arranged by Producer Rick Rubin to answer some negative response to their criticism of President Bush. In their five trips to the awards podium, they were wonderfully disciplined not to say anything embarrassing or divisive, but it was obvious that they felt vindicated and affirmed by the Grammy voters as much for their stance as for their album.
In the end, both Mary J. Blige and the Dixie Chicks found some redemption in their award-winning recognition. And maybe the future will be different, as lead Chick Natalie Maines’ (perhaps in a moment of I’ve-just-won-five-Grammys-glee) proclaimed “Okay, I’m ready to make nice” as she took the stage for the evening’s top award.
But she's not quite ready to let “Jesus take the wheel.”
Redemption appeared to be the theme of the night at the Grammys, from the Dixie Chicks' triumphs to Mary J. Blige's gracious acceptance speech to Carrie Underwood's win for the spiritual surrender anthem, "Jesus Take the Wheel."
Not everyone handled their redemption with grace. After the Dixie Chicks took their first Grammy--for best country vocal performance by a duo or group--it seemed clear that record-industry voters, if not all country fans, had sided with the Chicks in their red-state/blue state set-to over their comments about the Iraq War. By the time they won their second award--for country album--it was clear Chicks' lead singer Natalie Maines was ready to gloat. "To quote 'The Simpsons,' 'Heh, heh'," sneered Maines in accepting the Grammy.
It took her bandmate Martie Maguire to thank the fans who had stuck with them, and allude to the fact that their best-country album honors had come from liberal industry folk, not Nashville proper. "It's a very strange place to be sometimes... without a genre necessarily," said Maguire.
Maines later chimed, "I'm ready to make nice!" and called herself "humbled" by the group's Record of the Year award, but it was literally too late--only the die-hard Red Hot Chili Pepper fans were waiting up to see their guys perform by that point in the over-long show--and too political. I don't begruge Maines her freedom to speak. Anyone with a microphone that big has the duty to speak truth to power. But if you're going to be a protest rocker, Natalie, be cool. Take your redemption, such as it was, as a gift, instead of sounding like a member of the newly ascendant congressional Democrats.
Underwood put a point on Maines's chatter when she accepted her second Grammy, for best New Artist, immediately following the Chicks' second appearance. She began, "I love country music, first of all." How nice was that?
Yesterday's tragic news of the death of model/Playmate/reality star Anna Nicole Smith, after being found unconscious in a Florida hotel room, was shocking, and yet, at the same time, oddly not completely surprising. From her days as a stripper in Texas to her marriage to an elderly oil billioniaire, her rags-to-riches life story often seemed stranger than fiction. There was not only her long court battle with one of her deceased husband's children to obtain part of his fortune, but also her bizarre reality series on E!, and more recently, her only son's death, shortly after the birth of her baby a few months ago.
As her personal trials and tribulations played out in the media over the last decade amidst the tabloid rumors and late-night parodies, I was reasonably certain of only one thing about Anna Nicole's life: She had no one around her who truly cared about what was best for her personally. While estranged from her mother and other family members, she still had an entourage--including her lover and lawyer Howard K. Stern--to keep her company. Yet I always believed that real friends, not to mention family, would not let someone they loved be exploited in the way she obviously was, as she staggered and slurred her way through "The Anna Nicole Show," or any number of other public appearances, for that matter. They would have gotten her the professional help she clearly needed. They would have protected her from those who wished to prey on her assests--financial and other. Instead, it seemed that perhaps a few of them were the ones doing the preying.
Now that she has died suddenly at only 39 years of age, her legacy will not be her beauty--however ostentatious--or the wealth she fought so hard for. And I am guessing no one will be extolling her virtues as a mother. Her life has gone from being a punch line in a comedic monologe to simply becoming another cautionary tale that the material trappings of this world are ultimately futile and meaningless. And sadly, it's a tale that will probably be soon forgotten, as the media becomes fascinated with the next moral trainwreck in celebritydom.
Movie Land has been barren of late, at least when it comes to shiny, happy romantic comedies, which are my favorite kind. I can appreciate intensity, drama, and depressing stories. But sometimes I'd just rather not. And during the pre-Christmas weeks all I had to feed the romance appetite was "The Holiday"--a weak appetizer at best.
"Because I Said So," starring Diane Keaton, Lauren Graham ("Gilmore Girls"), and Mandy Moore, is at least as substantial as a decent lunch. Is it cliché? Yes. Is it predictable? Yes. But it's hard to resist Diane Keaton in any role, including an occasionally teary but always good-hearted mother who meddles endlessly in her last single daughter Minny's (Moore) life.
Married life plays the role of heaven in this flick, and Keaton its divine arbiter. No matter what Mom tries--set-ups, sly introductions, and even a horridly embarrassing online scheme in which she vets potential suitors--Mom can't seem to get daughter Minny to ascend to heaven's gate, where lifelong companionship and children await her. Cue the predictable--and not just one, but three new potential husbands walk into their lives.
Regardless of the caliber of "Because I Said So" as a film, it's nice to see Mandy Moore showing up among such an all-star female cast. She had me sold with her starring performance in the fantastic, Christian high school spoof "Saved." Though Moore's reputation for only taking "squeaky clean" family values (a.k.a., Christian-friendly) roles is no more, since "Because I Said So" has her hopping in and out of bed with all sorts of folks, no ring required.
For those seeking anything to fill the well-gone-dry of simply fun movies, "Because I Said So" will do, and Mom's determination to take fate into her own hands will surely provoke at least a few laughs and maybe a few tears, too.
Last night's "Veronica Mars," somewhat oddly titled "There's Got To Be A Morning After Pill," portrayed a family of evangelical Christians in a surprisingly sympathetic light. (I say surprising only because evangelicals are not usually portrayed this way on TV, especially given the topic of last night's episode.)
Classmate Bonnie hired Veronica's P.I. services to track down who slipped her the morning-after pill--an utterly horrible act--since Bonnie had intended to keep the baby she was carrying. And here comes the surprisingly sympathetic part: Bonnie comes from a family of Christian fundamentalists, and her father happens to be a famous televangelist. You'd think they'd be livid, mortified, and utterly unforgiving, right? That they'd disown their daughter, right? (At least given TV and movie drama portrayals of such Christians.)
Well, last night's episode shows Bonnie's Dad--the televangelist himself--confessing to Veronica (after she goes to him undercover as a confused pregnant teen looking for advice) that she shouldn't be afraid to tell her parents she was pregnant. That, in fact, his own daughter had just faced the same situation and that he and his wife couldn't help but react with love for their daughter, and with excitement at the thought of their future grandchild. They sent her (Bonnie) balloons, congratulation cards, and the confidence that she had their unending support and love no matter what.
This from a TV Christian Dad--shocking!
But what got me most of all (and Veronica, too), was televangelist Dad's counsel to his daughter when she found out who had slipped her the morning-after pill, causing the miscarriage. As his daughter screamed in anger and cried tears filled with rage, Dad put his arms around her and started quoting Scripture on anger--a litany of verses--about how anger only destroys us, that we must forgive those who do us injustice. On and on he went in a beautiful, loving speech, which in turn inspired Veronica to not enact a pretty terrible revenge she planned on rival Madison Sinclair.
It was quite powerful. And nice to see a show portray a Christian family against stereotype.
Beliefnet's now-annual answer to the Oscars is underway. The Beliefnet Film Awards honor the best mainstream films that explore spiritual topics and themes. This year, we've got three categories, each with five nominees:
I just have to start with a little "Hip, hip, hooray!" "Lost" is back on tonight, after a way-too-long hiatus. I will also admit that before this morning I wasn't that excited, and I'd even almost forgotten it was re-premiering after so long off the air. But when I woke up today I felt a little jolt of happiness that we'd all finally have a chance to re-enter the saga.
(BTW, what do you call it when a show premieres in the Fall and then disappears for ages: Is it a kind of "re-premiere"? Or "Second Premiere" like "Second Virginity" or something? But I digress...)
Well, according to Matthew Gilbert of The Boston Globe, tonight's episode is all about Jack's "God Complex." In the article "With its return, 'Lost' looks to find its way again," Gilbert previews tonight's episode with quite a bit of God-talk:
We know Jack Shephard needs to play God. The guy has a savior complex--he's fixated on being the Good Shepherd for his "Lost" flock. Tonight, when ABC's "Lost" picks up precisely where it left off three months ago, Dr. Jack will be enacting yet another of his feverish power plays, this time to free Kate from Otherville.... Playing God is one of the great themes of ABC's "Lost"...
But tonight, says Gilbert, we'll find out that Juliet (you know, the Other who plays nice with Jack) has a similar "taste for playing God," since this episode features her back story.
Despite its too-long hiatus, I'm ready for more of Jack's God Complex and whoever else's God Complex and finding out what in the world is the deal with this island they are on.
The national reality show that is our national political stage plays on several cable news shows and network news and newsmagazines. There was a great plot twist--and the deepening of a main character's character--that went largely overlooked last week, which I thought was as dramatic as it was inspiring. Imagine a moment when Democrats applauded enthusiastically in unison for the speaker at their retreat... President Bush!
"You know, I welcome debate in a time of war and I hope you know that,” he said, going on to say that disagreeing with him doesn’t mean that “you don't share the same sense of patriotism I do.”
"You can get that thought out of your mind, if that's what some believe," the president said. "These are tough times, but there's no doubt in my mind that you want to secure this homeland as much as I do."
I wish this kind of thing would've gotten more of a mention. I wish Leno and Letterman would have been joking about it, as well as Conan, Carson, and the rest. A trickle effect may even have contributed to lifting the spirits of a nation, known to itself as a divided one, with the gap between Red and Blue getting wider. The rhetoric and vitriol in Washington is portrayed so combatively that networks (Fox on the right and CNN on the left) have largely become known as political machines in and of themselves. It sounds like the president and the Democrats are taking steps in the right direction. I hope the networks take notice!
Regardless of one's politics, this was good entertainment, and the fact that it went largely overlooked is either a grave oversight or a signal to all of us that we don't get to watch all of the parts of this dram. This is one show where something is more important than just reporting the news and letting us choose what we think about it.
I'll admit it, I was initially resistant to the charms of "Lost." A plane gets ripped in half mid-air and crashes? Undiagnosed vertigo and living in New York City post-9/11 are enough to make that one of my top-10 fears--no need to actually see a dramatic rendering of it on TV. And yet, I found myself tuning in, undoubtedly because of the involvement of David Fury (late of "Angel"), and getting hooked on the sheer insanity of every episode.
Questions, questions, questions in every show: Are they in purgatory? Why did the plane crash? Who were the Others? What was that smoky thing? A polar bear in the tropics? What's in the hatch? Who's that Australian guy? Locke is paralyzed and then unparalyzed and then reparalyzed? Is the Hanso Foundation good, bad, or just scientifically objective? And what about those infernal numbers? (I always knew math was evil.)
I loved the sci-fi fantasy elements and the brilliance of various takes on classical literary elements: the irony; the purgatory theory, that the survivors were essentially trapped in their own personal nightmares that would torment them until they learned their lessons; appearance vs. reality, the symbolic geography of the exposure of the beach vs. the safety of the cave; the faith vs. reason struggle among the survivors (especially the clash between Locke and Jack); the crime-and-punishment structure that was revealed as we were given glimpses of each character's story, and above all the suspense over what unpredictable thing would come next. Knowing that no character is safe from week-to-week gave the whole thing a kind of Stephen Kingy feel, which in my book is a really good thing. I liked being surprised--it seemed more real.
But with this season, it seemed that there were suddenly too many questions. Why do Kate, Sawyer, and Jack suddenly seem to be on Isla Sorna (Jurassic Park's Site B)? Kate and Jack? Kate and Sawyer? Sawyer eating fish pellets and getting fake pacemakers/explosive devices implanted in his chest? Where did Walt and Michael go? Why isn't Hurley losing weight? Why hasn't Sayeed managed much airtime this season? Is "Benry" really evil, or do his eyes and bunny-tormenting just make him look like the serial killer from The Practice? (Ah, Michael Emerson, who looks so normal and plays such psychos.)
At some point, the show seemed to cross a line between "I have to tune in next week?!" and "What's the point in tuning in next week if there's no progress in my understanding of what's happening?!" And then there was the infuriating process of trying to determine whether each week was a rerun or not. (Although it did give rise to one of my favorite sites, which always makes me laugh in admiration of its brilliant simplicity: IsLostARepeat.com.)
What are my hopes for the new "mini-season"? First of all, I hope to actually remember what the bejeezus happened in the last episode (this TVSquad recap's a big help), and to avoid any spoilers online or in the evil pages of Entertainment Weekly (which triumphantly trumpets "CAST MEMBER Killed on '24'" before I've seen the episode in which the character in question suddenly died). I hope that "Lost" doesn't try to find itself with a new, upbeat, '80s
-style theme song. I hope that Kate and Sawyer don't get eaten by velociraptors. I hope there's a really good explanation for that Smoky thing, or that it vanishes completely. I hope they don't find anymore hatches or Hanso outposts.
I hope that Kate, Sawyer, and Jack are really on the same island as all the survivors we know and love. I hope to find out if Juliet is really evil and playing Jack, or if she's sincerely hoping for the death of Benry (that's Ben, who used the alias Henry, for those of you not obsessed with all things "Lost"). I hope that the end of the show won't be Jack waking up from a nap in the Sydney airport and concluding that "it was all a dream, and there's no place like home."
Most of all, I'm hoping to enjoy this show again.
All published reports indicate that although there will be more intrigue and head-scratching, the "Lost" producers and writers are working toward an end point, both for the current story arcs and for the series itself. It seems that answers--and storylines for the abandoned castaways like Hurley, Claire, and Charlie--are on the horizon, like a random boat being piloted by Sun and Jin and Sayid... it's just out of sight, but at least you know it's there, somewhere. And with new episodes coming every week from now until the season finale in May, hopefully, "Lost" will find whatever it's been looking for.
posted by Esther Kustanowitz @ 6:30 PM | Permalink |
More powerful than Wolverine and more charismatic than Magneto, the man best known for producing the “X-Men” series of films, Ralph Winter, has achieved something even Professor Xavier couldn’t dream of accomplishing. Variety has announced that Winter will at long last be producing a big screen version of another C.S. Lewis best seller, the Christian classic “The Screwtape Letters.” Walden Media, which also developed “The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe,” will be involved in the development of the project, as will Lewis’ stepson, Douglas Gresham.
The story of a senior devil named Screwtape and his letters to his nephew Wormwood is an unlikely story for a film adaptation, since the book is essentially a long monologue in which Screwtape advises Wormwood on how to corrupt a recent Christian convert. But while “Screwtape” doesn’t offer a lot of action, the possibilities for some awesome casting exist. My personal vote would be for Clive Owen or Edward Norton as Screwtape, and perhaps someone like Ryan Gosling or Orlando Bloom as Wormwood.
When strategically cropped nude photos of Daniel Radcliffe from the play "Equus" first surfaced on the web, the first thought that ran through my mind was: Oh no, et tu, Daniel?
It seems that child actors these days are trying too hard to grow up, shed their innocent "baby fat" image, and mark their increasing maturity by doing the one thing usually reserved for adult actors: baring some skin (or all of it, in Radcliffes's case).
Recently, Dakota Fanning raised eyebrows with her new Sundance film, "Hounddog," where she wriggles her hips suggestively and is raped by an older teenager. Even though only Fanning's face is shown during the rape scene, some critics declared the film child pornography, a role with a subject matter too sensitive for a 12-going-on-13-year-old to portray. Yes, Dakota is never shown without clothes, but the idea of rape (a brutal physical act with nudity) is what frightens fans still eager to see Dakota's luminosity better used in "Charlotte's Web"-type roles.
There is something jarring about seeing a young actor or actress usually associated with bubblegum transform into bombshell by appearing in sensual photo spreads or movies. Think: Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Jessica Biel, Anne Hathaway, and Lindsay Lohan. Although Lohan was quoted as saying she would never do a nude scene in 2005, a year later she was quoted as saying a nude scene might be a possibility if it could lead to an Oscar. Some young actresses have never been pigeonholed in "innocent" roles, making their transition into adulthood easier (Scarlett Johansson, Keira Knightley, Mandy Moore), but even Scarlett and Keira (in their early 20s) raised eyebrows upon deciding to appear sans clothes for a Vanity Fair cover.
As for Daniel Radcliffe, despite being male, in the minds of devoted Harry Potter fans who watched him grow up onscreen playing the heroic, non-sexual "Boy Who Lived," the thought of him consciously choosing to grow up and dealing with sensuality and sexuality is discouraging. For me, a huge follower of Harry Potter, it feels like Daniel is beginning to check items off his "How I Can Show the World I'm More Than Harry" list. In addition to "Equus," Radcliffe will soon be appearing in "December Boys," a PG-13 film where he portrays an orphan who discovers romance.
Personally, I know it's inevitable that child actors (Daniel and Dakota included) need to grow up, but it's still frightening to think they want to tackle adulthood while the word "teen" is still attached to their age. It's understandable child actors want to gain respectibility (and perhaps an Oscar) by showing the world their range, but as my colleague Dilshad asks, what's wrong with waiting? Perhaps there will never be an easy transition--it's either do or d
ie, with hopes that the audience comes along for the ride anyway.
"Mothers, Harry Potter has done something that will make you mad! Stay tuned to hear what!" These were the titillating words I heard driving home after dropping my kids off at school. I already knew the story: Daniel Radcliffe, the young actor who has portrayed J.K. Rowling’s beloved character through five movies, will be doing the full monty when his play opens in London later this month.
So, really, is it that big a deal? The play, "Equus," is about a mentally-ill young boy who confuses his lust for women with his love of horses. But he is not the first young actor to take on a racy role that’s a complete departure from what he is famous for. And though Harry Potter websites have been deluged with messages from outraged parents saying Radcliffe has betrayed their children (especially with the release of provocative publicity photos of an apparently nude Radcliffe posing with horses and with his female co-star), isn’t it his own business what roles he takes on?
I would say no--not when he's still playing Harry Potter.
My fellow Idol Chatter blogger, Paul O’Donnell, says Radcliffe has every right to do what he wants, and it is the responsibility of parents to keep their children from "objectionable material, or even adult material like 'Equus...'" As a parent of two (both too young to be into Harry Potter), I totally agree. But I also think this is about choices--the roles young actors choose and what they owe to their audience. Radcliffe is in the middle of a movie series. We’ve seen four Harry Potter blockbusters (the fifth comes out this July), and Rowling’s last two books will likely become films, with Radcliffe reprising his role.
Though there’s no contractual obligation for Radcliffe to only take jobs that are of the Harry Potter nature while he’s doing those films, there is a moral obligation on the young actor. His character means the world to millions of children everywhere. And though parents are responsible for shielding their kids from "Equus" publicity shots, does Radcliffe have no responsibility to his fans?
As much as many actors talk about their love of the art and how they want to explore different roles and grow as an actor, the business of movie-making is about fans and money. And when one chooses a role like Harry Potter that is beloved to so many--especially children--then there is a reponsibility that comes with that. You morally owe it to all those kids to keep the racy, the raunchy, the disturbing, and the nakedness in check until the film series is over.
Responsibility? Moral obligation? Do these phrases hold any weight in Hollywood? They should.
It would have been better had Radcliffe waited until the Harry Potter films were over to do the "Equus" role. Though it would've still been a shock to Potter fans and their parents to see him drop trou as his first post-Harry job, at that point his obligation would have ended, and he could do whatever he wanted (though there is something to be said for waiting to grow up before taking on risque roles).
Call it the "Lord of the Rings Precedent": Maybe beloved series, like "LOTR," should be filmed simultaneously, ensuring all the main actors would only be doing those roles for that time frame. Or (since the Potter characters have to grow up in their films), the actors involved should just agree to not rock the boat while filming a series. I sure would've hated to see Dominic Monaghan as druggie Charlie in "Lost" while he
was in the middle of being plucky Pippin.
Bottom line is that I wish Radcliffe had waited until the Harry Potter movies were over to take on new, racy roles. Though that may have taken two to three more years (which is a lifetime to young actors), it would’ve been the good thing to do.
And when was the last time an actor chose "the good thing to do?"
When economics meets the spiritual journey, economics wins--at least as far as the NFL and its lawyers are concerned. And that’s a shame.
The Bears-Colts match-up included a wonderful and historic storyline, as the first Super Bowl ever to have even one African-American head coach, let alone two. Coach Smith and Coach Dungy have risen to the top of their profession and both credit their faith as being foundational to their success.
But when a church in Indianapolis wanted to invite its members and friends together to celebrate the occasion and also see a short video highlighting the faith journeys of both coaches, the NFL acted quickly to shut them down. Even when the church agreed not to charge fees for snacks and not to use the words “Super Bowl” in their promotion, the NFL still did not back down.
"While this may be a noble message," NFL assistant counsel Rachel L. Margolies wrote in a follow-up e-mail, "we are consistent in refusing the use of our game broadcasts in connection with events that promote a message, no matter the content."
That stance is ridiculous. The entire game was filled with commercials that promote cultural stereotypes while pitching products as solutions for just about every problem of the human condition, and the NFL has no problem using game broadcasts to promote messages. The issue--really--is money. The NFL’s stance is that somehow these church parties would somehow have a trickle effect on Nielson ratings, which drive advertising rates, which the networks charge, to support what they pay the NFL for the rights to the game. Advertisers will pay an average of $2.5 million for a 30-second spot this year, which works out to $83,333 per second! That’s a lot of moo-lah, and doesn’t even include all of the other business and industry that’s driven by the game and the various pre- and post-game shows on other networks. (Advertising companies also do well on this day—a special effects ad can cost as much as $1 million to make.)
I agree with the pastor’s well-stated position: "It just frustrates me that most of the places where crowds are going to gather to watch this game are going to be places that are filled with alcohol and other things that are inappropriate for children," Newland said. "We tried to provide an alternative to that and were shut down."
The NFL licenses bars and restaurants to make money off of the game, because they call it “part of their everyday operations.” I commend a community church which seeks to gather people together to celebrate a cultural event as well as the faith message of the coaches, and believe there’ve got to be some lawyers who could go to court argueing that that is as much “normal operations” as a bar selling alcohol. But it’s doubtful a church has the money or the desire to fight the Big Brother that is the NFL. We should have risen up and protested... but then we’d have missed our own Super Bowl parties, and I need to get the apps and dip made in time to get there early.
Last night, I watched "Criminal Minds" for the first time. I'd heard it was good and decided to watch its newest episode, "Revelations," when it aired following the Super Bowl. After all, how could I resist watching a show with a Biblical title? And it stars Mandy Patinkin, who is hard not to love.
Well, cue the horror movie music, which creeped me out and sent me hiding under the covers for half of the show. From minute one, "Criminal Minds" was ultra-scary and, of course, about a crazy Christian serial killer! (Because all Christian fundamentalists have a good dose of sadism in them right? Ugh.) "Raphael" is the murderer this FBI crime-solving team is after, though they think he's working with accomplices. Turns out, Raphael has multiple personality disorder, and the scared kid personality in him calls 911 before each murder, presumably trying to help his soon to be victims, but then evil Raphael (yes, that Raphael, by the way) dad-figure cuts in to each call with his psycho-scary judgment day voice going on about how these victims must die for their sins. So Raphael is both son and father in one, and of course, his father was an evil, abusive father who constantly punished his son for his sins with things like branding irons when he was but a wee boy of oh, say, six or so. So healthy, these TV Christian families!
Now cue the excerpts from the Book of Revelation at each murder scene, and just imagine how gruesome they are. Raphael captures who he believes is Jezebel and.... aahhhh, uuugggghhhhh... I don't even want to talk about it.
However, if I've somehow peaked your masochistic interest in watching hide-under-the-covers horror about a sadistic Christian serial killer, then be sure to watch Part 2 of "Revelations," because after all that trauma, I learned that it was to be continued! It airs Wednesday, February 7th, at 9pm on CBS.
And don't worry, it won't effect your "Lost" premiere watching, since "Lost" airs at 10pm on Wednesdays now.
We don't know yet whether the young wizard Harry Potter will survive Book 7, "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" (though we will soon--hooray!!). But the publishing industry--particularly children's-book publishers and most of all Scholastic, JK Rowling's American publisher--are bracing for a major hit once July 21, 2007, passes and there will no longer be Harry Potter book-release dates in our future.
While Rowling's official annoncement of HP7's July debut has been met with joy and sighs of relief among children and adult fans the world over, Scholastic, bookstores, and the tremendous media tie-in industry face a terrifying possibility: What if Harry can't rise above his of-the-moment popularity? What if Harry's afterlife is only brief at best?
Yes, it is the end of an era--at least one dimension of it. And perhaps a bit of nostalgia combined with fear on the part of those whose livelihoods now depend on Harry & Co. And this whole bit about Daniel Radcliffe taking off his clothes for a play (get over it) doesn't really help the tizzy. But have a little faith! Harry has captured the imaginations of millions of people, young and old, all across the world. I highly doubt he will stop anytime soon. And aren't we all jealous of those little children who've yet to read the series? A whole new world awaits them. Sigh.
Ladies and gentlemen, Daniel Radcliffe will take his clothes off onstage when the play he's starring in opens in London later this month. So who cares? Ladies and gentlemen, Daniel Radcliffe also plays Harry Potter in the Warner Bros. film series based on the J.K. Rowling novels.
Since his casting was announced, parents have funnelled their anguish in emails to the many Potter fansites, complaining mostly that he's a role model for their children. The controversy boiled anew this week when publicity photos were released showing Radcliffe in sexy poses with a horse and his co-star Joanne Christie.
Sexy as the photos may be, it's not as if Radcliffe is making pornos. The play, "Equus," is a time-honored and much revered (not to say a tad outdated) standard in the English theatrical repertoire that concerns a mentally disturbed teen who badly mixes up his love for horses and his lust for women. The young actor playing the boy has taken takes his clothes off since Peter Firth debuted the role in 1973.
But even if Radcliffe were doing something dirtier, isn't it the parents' responsibility to keep their kids away from objectionable material, or even adult material like "Equus," not Radcliffe's? "We are very disappointed and will avoid the future movies he makes," wrote one parent about the nude scenes. Fine, but couldn't you simply avoid West End plays intended for grownups?
The auditions on "American Idol" can usually be counted on to make the audience cringe, but how often do they make the audience cry? Sure, "Baywatch" star David Hasselhoff and contestant Kathrine McPhee's father both teared upduring last year's finals, and judge Paula Abdul has a good cry at least once a season, but Los Angeles auditioner Sherman Pore poured his heart out and won the audience's.
At 64, Pore is far too old to qualify to audition for "Idol"--the age limit is 28--but on a whim he decided that he would start collecting signatures on a petition to allow him to try out. Sherman wasn't looking for the fame and glory that comes with the "Idol" title, though; he was attempting to buoy the spirits of his partner of 20 years, who was dying of cancer, giving her a bit of fun to focus on in her last days.
Coming in front of the judges--Paula, Randy, Simon, and guest judge Olivia Newton-John, herself a cancer survivor--Pore grapsed the petition and explained to the judges that his "lady love" had passed away two days prior to the audtion. When they offered their condolences, he said that he didn't want their sympathy, he just wanted to sing.
And sing he did. "You Belong To Me," to be precise. And on a night where such little talent was displayed, Pore demonstrated not only a better than passable singing voice, but the real power of song, the ability to express what cannot be said with words alone.
Every single one of those judges was touched when Sherman finished by saying that he thought the whole petition and audition process had "smoothed her passing and made it softer." And it brought out the softer side of notoriously nasty judge Simon Cowell, who stood up and asked to shake Pore's hand, saying, "You’re a class act, Sherman. Thank you very much."
A truly touching moment on a show known for terse words and tacky talent.
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.
Maybe he feels a certain kinship with the late Anna Nicole Smith after donning drag for the upcoming film version of "Harispray," but John Travolta feels that Scientology could have saved the former Guess! model and reality star's life.
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Last night's "
I just have to start with a little "Hip, hip, hooray!" "
I'll admit it, I was initially resistant to the charms of "Lost." A plane gets ripped in half mid-air and crashes? Undiagnosed vertigo and living in New York City post-9/11 are enough to make that one of my top-10 fears--no need to actually see a dramatic rendering of it on TV. And yet, I found myself tuning in, undoubtedly because of the involvement of David Fury (late of "Angel"), and getting hooked on the sheer insanity of every episode.
When 
Ladies and gentlemen, Daniel Radcliffe will 
The auditions on "American Idol" can usually be counted on to 
