Nell Minow: September 2009 Archives

As I noted last week in my discussion of the recent outbreak of rudeness, courtesy is a neglected virtue, often dismissed as tangential or even hypocritical. But courtesy is sincere, based on a recognition of the dignity deserved by all people, and it is crucially important, requiring us to be sensitive to the feelings of others, and to show respect for them and for ourselves. Some movies teach us that being treated with courtesy can be a transforming experience, a lesson well worth family discussion. And this is particularly important because so many of today's movies seem to depict lack of courtesy as somehow brave, honest, or funny.

In "To Sir With Love," it is not being treated courteously by the teacher that changes the way the students think about themselves and each other as much as it is being required to change their behavior and treat each other with courtesy. In the delightful "Babe," our porcine hero becomes the greatest shepherd of all time by asking the sheep to move politely instead of nipping at their heels. "My Fair Lady" has one of the most famous exchanges on the subject of courtesy in all of literature, when Eliza explains that Colonel Pickering treats a flower girl like a duchess, and Professor Higgins treats a duchess like a flower girl. As Americans, we are inclined to agree when Higgins says that the great thing is to have one manner for all people, but we also agree with Eliza when she says she learned more from Pickering's courteous manners than from Higgins elocution lessons.

"To Kill a Mockingbird" is a movie that resonates on many levels and has much to teach us about many subjects. But I recommend watching it at least once with attention to its emphasis on courtesy, which serves as a beacon in the most troubled and unsettling circumstances.

Babe "This is a tale about an unprejudiced heart, and how it changed our valley forever." So begins this lovely story about a pig who lives his dream (and saves his life) by learning to herd sheep. Farmer Hoggett (James Cromwell) wins the little pig at a fair. Back at his farm, Babe is adopted by Fly, the sheepdog, who treats him like one of her puppies. Babe learns the ways of the farm and the barnyard, and is very distressed to hear from Maa the sheep that she thinks Fly is cruel, and even more distressed to learn from Ferdinand the duck that humans eat animals. Hoggett enters Babe into competition at the fair, submitting him as the best sheepdog. At first, the sheep at the fair won't listen to Babe, but when Rex finds out the sheep password (by promising to be kind and respectful to sheep in the future), Babe uses it, along with his unique style of courteous friendliness, to manage the sheep so brilliantly that he wins the competition.

This movie is a delight for the eye, heart, and spirit. And it deals very well with many important issues. The movie is really a tale of two "unprejudiced hearts." And one of its themes is the importance of kindness--Hoggett's to Babe, Fly's to Babe, Babe's to the sheep, and ultimately Rex's to Babe, and how it transforms both the giver and the recipient.

My Fair Lady On a rainy night in Covent Garden, Professor Henry Higgins (Rex Harrison) meets Colonel Pickering (Wilfred Hyde-White), a fellow linguistics scholar, as he is correctly identifying accents of all those around him. Offhandedly commenting that in England people are defined by their accents, he says that he could even teach a poor Cockney flower girl to speak like a lady. The next day, the flower girl (Audrey Hepburn) comes to see him, to offer to pay Higgins for language lessons. She wants to be "a lady in a flower shop," and that requires a more bourgeois accent and manner. Higgins proposes to teach her to talk like a society lady and bets Pickering that he can pass her off. This musical was based on "Pygmalion," written in 1912 by George Bernard Shaw. In this era, and in this country, it is hard to imagine how genuinely revolutionary it was for Shaw to say that the only difference between the classes was accent and demeanor. It is worth discussing the way that language and accent defined people in this era, and asking children about the conclusions people draw from accents today.

This story has its parallels to Cinderella; it has its climax at a ball, which our heroine attends in borrowed finery. But Higgins and Pickering are far from fairy godfathers. Their interest is not in rewarding Eliza for a virtuous life; they want to show off their own achievement, and play something of a joke on high society. And Higgins is not a prince. In a way he reveals the princess inside of Eliza, though he never intended to, or even took the time to imagine it to be possible.

One of Shaw's most important insights in this story is of the role of courtesy, and the different characters' ideas of its importance provide an excellent opportunity for discussion. Pickering's treating Eliza like a lady has as much to do with her becoming one as all of the training about diction and appropriate topics for conversation. As she says, he treats a flower girl like a duchess. When she says that Higgins treats a duchess like a flower girl, Higgins says that "the great thing" is to treat everyone the same way. That may be, but Pickering is able to treat everyone (even Eliza at her Cockney-ist) with equal courtesy, instead of equal brusqueness. Mrs. Higgins is also courteous to everyone (with the exception of her son); her concern over having Eliza at Ascot is at least as much for Eliza's comfort as her own.

To Kill a Mockingbird The story is about prejudice and injustice, seen through the eyes of a little girl, the daughter of a lawyer who defends a black man against a trumped up rape charge in 1930s Georgia. The lawyer, Atticus Finch (Gregory Peck), is the essence of quiet dignity, integrity, and courtesy. His efforts to teach his son and daughter the values he believes in, which the community they live in does not always honor, are moving and inspiring.

There is a great deal of emphasis in the movie on courtesy and sensitivity to the feelings of others. In the first scene, Atticus tells Scout not to embarrass a client named Walter Cunningham, when he comes by to drop off some food as payment for legal services. Later, when Scout brings Walter, Jr. home for lunch, she is told not to say anything when he pours syrup all over his food. Atticus treats mean old Mrs. Dubose with gallantry, disarming her. Atticus' courtesy in cross-examining Mayella Ewell is so unfamiliar to her that she assumes it is some new sort of insult. The black people in the courtroom balcony stand as a courtesy to Atticus. And Sheriff Heck Tate explains why the official record will show that Bob Ewell fell on his knife. He wants to protect Boo "with his shy ways" from the well-meaning gratitude (and curiosity) of the "good ladies" of the town.

To Sir, With Love Released the same year as "Up the Down Staircase" this is also the story of a new teacher in an inner-city school, although this time the city is London, and the teacher is Sidney Poitier. An outsider by virtue of his country (West Indies) more than his color, Poitier becomes impatient with the insolence and narrow-mindedness of his students and imposes his own set of rules, foremost of which is courtesy to him and to each other. At first, they are embarrassed and awkward, as though they don't want to believe that they could deserve such treatment. The other teachers make it quite clear that they don't think the students deserve it. But soon the exaggerated sarcasm of "Miss Dare" and "Sir" falls away, and we see a superb example of the transforming nature of being treated with -- and treating others with -- respect.

Three new and very different movies have one thing in common -- they all ask their characters and their audiences to think about the nature of God and faith. This week we have a perky romantic comedy with Ricky Gervais and Jennifer Garner called "The Invention of Lying." As the title suggests, it is about a world in which everyone tells the literal, concrete truth all the time. And then one man figures out that he can lie, and that since no one else is aware that lies even exist, he can pretty much get away with everything. Since no one lies, everyone is completely gullible. So much is clear from the trailers. But Entertainment Weekly reports that there is a more controversial element to the film and that one of the "lies" the Gervais character comes up with is the idea of God.

Gervais, who also co-wrote and directed the film, has responded to concerns from bloggers.

1. No one has seen the film.

2. Even if the film suggests there is no God, it is a fictional world. One of my favourite films is 'It's a wonderful life' and at no time am I offended by the suggestion in this wonderful work of fiction that there is a God.

3. If the film was not set in a fictional world and suggested there is no God then that's fine too, as it is anyone's right not to believe in God.

4. By suggesting there is no God you are not singling out Christianity.

5. Not believing in God cannot be blasphemous. Blasphemy is acknowledging a God to insult or offend etc.

6. Even if it was blasphemous, which it isn't, then that's OK too due to a little god I like called "freedom of speech." That said, I am not trying to offend anyone. That would be a waste of such a privilege.

7. I am an atheist, but this is not atheist propaganda. When creating an imaginary world you have to make certain decisions. We decided also that there would be no surrealist art, no racism, no flattery, no fiction, no metaphor, and no supernatural. However, we decided that apart from that one "lying gene", humans evolved with everything else as we have it today. Joy, hope, ambition, ruthlessness, greed, lust, anger, jealousy, sadness, and grief. It's just a film. If any of the themes in it offend you or bore you, or just don't make sense to you, you should put everything right when you make a film.

I really hope everyone enjoys the film and keeps an open mind. I believe in peace on Earth, and good will to all men. I do as I would be done by, and believe that forgiveness is one of the greatest virtues. I just don't believe I will be rewarded for it in heaven. That's all.

I have a different take, which I will discuss in my upcoming review.

Perhaps an even more unexpected place for a discussion of God and faith than a comedy is in Michael Moore's latest documentary, "Capitalism: A Love Story." Moore is well-known for his attacks on the Bush administration ("Farenheit 911"), insurance companies ("Sicko"), and our treatment of guns and violence ("Bowling for Columbine"). In this new film, he takes on the financial crisis. His argument turns out to be based not as much in economics as in his own Catholic faith. He even interviews the priest who performed his wedding ceremony to help make his point that the current system is not just bad policy; it is not WWJD. The media often creates the impression that faith-based politics are right-wing and it is provocative and refreshing to see a different point of view.

And then there is a movie that is going to be difficult to put in any category, because it is the new film from the Coen brothers, who are masters of genre -- both evoking and transcending them. According to the New York Times, their new film "A Serious Man" "is both a Job-like parable of Jewish angst in a 1960s Midwestern suburb and a bleakly antic meditation on divine intent, the certainty of uncertainty and the mysteries of Jefferson Airplane lyrics.

The film's central character is a scientist who seeks the advice of three rabbis to help him find meaning and purpose. That makes this film unusual in two respects -- the portrayal of Jewish theology and the portrayal of clergy as a place to go for guidance.

And I am glad to see movies providing some guidance as well, by engaging us in very different ways about issues so profound and pervasive that it is only through a variety of approaches we can begin to understand what we believe.

"Physician, heal yourself!"

Henry Carter (Kevin Spacey) is the best-selling author of a book called Happiness Now and a Los Angeles psychiatrist to glamorous and highly successful people. But he is a mess, self-medicating to the point of obliterating himself with drugs and alcohol. He walks off in the middle of a talk show interview about his book. He walks out of an intervention from his friends and family. He is trying to walk out of his life. His patients want answers, reassurance, a sense of order and safety. But the usual assurances and gentle openings, "I know how hard that is" or "Do you know why you feel this way?" do not seem to work. And a devastating loss in his own life has left him in greater need than any of them.

Spacey is mesmerizing as the "compassion fatigued" Carter. The pain and anger of his character are palpable, as is his heart-wrenching frustration at not being able to stop feeling for himself and his patients. The cast is filled with brilliant performers who find subtlety and heart in otherwise stock characters (out of control rock star, would-be writer, shark agent, troubled teen) complex and sympathetic. Dallas Roberts (the agent), Pell James (the agent's assistant), and KeKe Palmer of "Akeela and the Bee" (the teen) are pitch-perfect. If writer Thomas Moffett makes the mistake of falling too much in love with his characters to let anything too terrible happen to them, it is understandable, because we do, too.

Tomorrow night, I'll be interviewing Michael Moore at a premiere screening of his new film, "Capitalism: A Love Story." It comes 20 years after his "Roger & Me" changed the rules for documentaries in every category. He did not pretend to be balanced; he did not hesitate to be irreverent, even laugh-out-loud funny, and -- related to the first two points -- he shattered box office records. "Roger & Me" focused on the devastation in Moore's home town of Flint, Michigan, in an economic downturn that seems modest by today's standards. And Flint shows up again, in a twist that will give the audience goosebumps. Here is Moore on CNN this week. I'll report on our session on Wednesday.

An expert blend of silly fun, action that is mostly more exciting than scary, a few clever barbs, and some wow-worthy visuals make "Monsters vs. Aliens" the best family film in months.

"You're glowing," says the groom to his bride as they are about to be married." And she is, but not in a good way. Exposed to a meteor just before the ceremony, Susan (voice of Reese Witherspoon) has a greenish glow. And then she starts to grow. Before she can say, "I do," Susan is suddenly 50 feet tall. And before she can say, "How did I get to be 50 feet tall," she is whisked away to a secret government compound for monsters where she quickly becomes a sort of house mother for a motley crew of assorted mutants, turning into a sort of cross between Alice in Wonderland in her giant mode, Snow White with the dwarfs, and Mary Ann with Gilligan, the Professor, and the gang.

Susan's fellow monsters amusingly cover the full range of of B-movie monster origins. We have "The Fly"-style one mad scientist who became the victim of his own experiment with insects and turned into Dr. Cockroach, Phd (voice of "House's" Hugh Laurie), one "Creature from the Black Lagoon"-style Missing Link thawed out of an arctic ice floe centuries after all others from his species had become extinct (voice of "Arrested Development's" Will Arnett), and a giant bug (a la "Them" or "Mothra"). And then there is my favorite, Bicarbonate Ostylezene Benzoate, known as BOB (voice of Seth Rogan), a brainless but genial one-eyed gelatinous ooze along the lines of "The Blob." These monsters are isolated as a matter of national security until an even bigger threat comes along. If you've heard the title, you know that it is aliens -- or rather, one alien named Gallaxhar (voice of Rainn Wilson of "The Office"). He plans to take over earth. The monsters are the only hope of saving it.

It was filmed in digital 3D, in part an homage to the cheesy sci-fi films of the 50's. It begins with the usual 3D trick as a bored technician plays paddleball and the ball on the elastic band seems to stop just short of our noses. But after that, the effects are more subtle and immersive. The animators have literally gone to unprecedented lengths -- it almost feels as though we can touch objects that go back the length of a football field. The scenes are brilliantly designed to make the most of the 3D technology and the action scenes, particularly one on the Golden Gate Bridge, are as immediate and involving as any big summer explosion-fest. The story is fast-paced and funny, with many knowing references to classic sci-fi and a solid story of friendship and self-realization. The voices are all excellent, especially Stephen Colbert as the dim-witted President, Witherspoon's Susan, who remains very real and human even after she becomes what the government christens Ginormica, and Laurie's cockroach, who has the manners of a butler and the laugh of a mad scientist. And Wilson hits just the right note of petulance to keep the alien from being too menacing.

But the graphic character design is uneven. As with most animated films, the humans are often stiff and artificial. The big bug, the cockroach, and the Link are not particularly engaging. BOB, however, is simply sensational. Rogan's husky voice and unabashed cheery laugh is a perfect match for the animated marvel of a big blue gooey thing that is endlessly pliant and effortlessly resilient. More than any other part of the movie, this charmingly silly little character shows what this technology is capable of, when the script has a great character to put on screen. In the battle between monsters and aliens, it is this little blue monster who saves the day.