Pan's Labyrinth

What a unique film. Guillermo Del Toro has a vivid imagination, to say the least. Written and Directed by Del Toro, Pan's Labyrinth has been a critical darling this year, including being the frontrunner for the Best Foreign Language Oscar (it's in Spanish).

The film tells two parallel stories, one based in reality and one in fantasy (or not, it all depends on interpretation). A twelve year old girl is the step-daughter of a brutal Fascist captain. Her mother is pregnant with the colonel's baby, and all the while the rebels are encroaching upon the Fascist regime. Ofelia, the girl, needs an escape from this hellish world. Thus, she creates a fantasy world to give herself some purpose and control. She feels helpless in this world, but in her make-believe world she can do something, she can make a difference. The creatures in this world are frightening and astounding, especially Mr. Eyeballs in the Hands Guy (You'd have to see him). Can she escape the brutal reality she lives with every day? How does a twelve year old girl deal with such deep-seeded pain, fear, and hatred? The psychological investigation is intriguing to say the least.

Ofelia's search for purpose, for a role to play, reflects our desire to be a part of a story. Meta-narrative is a word I like. There is a larger story, the story of God and humanity, that is always going on. We have our smaller stories, and they all fit together, are a part of, and influence the meta-narrative. We want to play a role in the bigger story. We don't want our existence to be merely our own. We want to play a part, we want to be able to "do something." As it is with all of us, so it is with Ofelia.

Ofelia tells a story to her as yet unborn brother about a flower. This flower holds the secret to eternal life. But the flower is at the top of a thorny mountain. No one was willing to climb the mountain, fearing suffering at the hand of the thorns. No one wants to suffer. I am teaching Crime and Punishment in Literature, and the theme of redemption through suffering comes up over and over. Suffering is good, as one character tells the murderer, Rodya. Romans tells us that suffering produces perseverance, perseverance character, and character strength. Do we not want these things? We as humanity are very busy reducing our suffering and pain. I believe this is causing all kinds of problems. We are weak, and not willing to sacrifice for others (not all people, but many). This story of the rose is central to the film. Is Ofelia willing to climb through the thorns to achieve eternal life? Are we? Will she suffer for others? Will anyone else suffer for others? Will anyone stand up to the evil dictator, Hitler, I mean Captain Vidal?

Pan's Labyrinth, in my opinion, has been overhyped. It is fascinating, with amazing psychological depth. But to be honest I was expecting something more, but I'm not sure what. Guillermo Del Toro has an amazing imagination, to say the least. Yet, it's not quite a top tier movie this year. This year the "three amigos" have done fantastic work though. Three Mexican directors (Del Toro, Alfonso Cuaron, and Alejandro Gonzales Inarritu) have been friends for a long time and their films this year (Pan's, Children of Men, and Babel) have done very well critically. It is great to see non-Americans breathe life back into filmmaking when we start turning out crap.

Catch A Fire

What an overlooked and underrated film. Philip Noyce does a masterful job of telling a huge story (South African Aparteid) in an intimate and personal way. The story is about how one man can change from a "normal guy" into a revolutionary or terrorist, depending on how you see it. The film stars Derek Luke as Patrick Chamusso, a South African factory worker who just wants to do his job and go home to his family. He has no desire to get involved with politics, but eventually he has no choice. Chamusso and his wife are unjustly jailed near the beginning of the film, and this experience changes him. How can a man stand by and let his wife be treated with such disdain? Does a real man sit idly by? Of course not. So how does a real man react? Chamusso joins the resistance, leaves the country, trains, and returns on a mission to destroy the government that destroyed him. Tim Robbins plays Nic Voc, the government anti-terrorist agent. The pursuit ensues.
It has been disappointing to see the critics' quotes chosen for the dvd, "non-stop thriller" "pulse-pounding" and other such cheap phrases. This is not an action/suspense film, this is a portrait of how a man can change. So how does a man fight back? Some say through violence, fight fire with fire if you will. This is the myth of Redemptive Violence, a common thread in Hollywood and the world at large. Yet Jesus did not fight back, Jesus did not resort to redemption. He said "love your enemies." Yes, we should defend the defenseless, protect the widow and orphan, but violence does not bring about redemption. You will have to watch the film yourself to see how these questions play out, but the last few minutes are beautiful. The film ends with a shot of Nelson Mandela. Talk about a guy who put his money where his mouth is. Chamusso speaks of Mandela, saying that he taught all South Africans that revenge is not the answer, that forgiveness is the true path of God.

Catch A Fire delves into the mind of a man who experiences injustice, as so many are still today. Then it examines how a man would respond. How would you respond? It's a very sticky question, and offers no simple answers, yet Mandela's words ring true and leave a lasting impression. Luke was fantastic, Robbins good (except the accent) and Noyce does a great job of making a political film with a different focus than the normal fare. Africa has become a very popular subject in the movie world lately, with many triumphs (Hotel Rwanda, The Constant Gardener, etc.) But this film is unique. It is far smaller in scale than most "political thrillers," yet hits home in a very powerful, and personal way.

Flags Of Our Fathers/Letters From Iwo Jima

Clint Eastwood is the man. I'm sure this will go

down in history as one of the greatest directorial achievements of all-time. What a grandiose idea, telling one story from two opposing points of view, in two separate films. Though these films were released individually, I truly believe they should be spoken of together, as a whole. The first, Flags Of Our Father, is the story of the raising of the flag on Iwo Jima, the famous picture of the event, and the reaction "back home." Letters From Iwo Jima focuses on the Japanese troops stationed on Iwo Jima, their plan of defense, and their eventual destruction. Each film is very good when standing on its own, but when paired with its couterpart, the films take on a whole new depth. The experience is quite breathtaking (if it is at all possible, the films should be seen in close proximity, even back to back).
If I had to pick one as a favorite (though they really should not be separated) I would have to choose Flags. Flags does not merely cover the same territory that has been covered over and over by filmmakers over the last few years (Saving Private Ryan, Band of Brothers, etc.). It delves into a whole different realm, the perception of war on the homefront. Why are people so concerned with who was in the picture of the raising of the flag? Are they any more heroic than the others who fought, who died? Why is this little picture so important to the war effort? Is perception reality? (You would normally see this theme in a sci-fi film, not a war epic). There was one shot that really stood out to me. The three survivors from the six soldiers in the picture are at a dinner in their honor. They are served cheesecake in the shape of the raising of the flag. The waiter asks if they want chocolate or strawberry, one chooses strawberry. As the red pours down the faces of the little cheesecake soldiers Doc Bradley (Ryan Phillippe) stares, as do we. How can we let people distort something so profound, important and sacrificial into something so ridiculous. Do we do that to the Cross, to Jesus, to the Resurrection? Do we take something so profound, important, and sacrificial and turn it into a t-shirt or a nifty little bracelet? How could we do that, or let others do that? I'm thinking of a line in a Derek Webb tune "turning God's word to cheap cliches." But back to the topic at hand. This film is more intimate and personal than your average war epic, and that makes for fascinating viewing. Not only is it an intimate portrait of the men involved in the photograph, but it also investigates our nation as a whole in a very penetrating way.
I had the privilege to see Letters From Iwo Jima with two friends who lived in Japan for twenty years, one being Japanese herself. This was fantastic because I was interrupted every so often with a whisper of explaination, or a laugh at a joke I didn't get. Letters, much like Flags, was an intimate investigation. The men stationed on Iwo Jima, an island considered part of the sacred homeland of Japan, are ready to fight and die for the honor of their country. The way they go about war is so "foreign" to what we normally see in American films. They have a sense of honor and duty to their nation and their ruler that goes deeper than what we are used to (I think the American sense of duty seems to focus on loyalty to one another, the guy next to you in the trenches). There are incredible cultural differences displayed with precision and accuracy. Yet, there are times throughout the film when the Japanese come in contact with the Americans, and there is a sense of shared humanity. They scene that shook me the most was the reading of a letter from the mother of a fallen American soldier. It brought tears to my eyes. Eastwood showed us something that we all know, but forget all too often: we are all human. Yeah, it sounds cheesy, but it's true. Jesus said "love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you," and I believe this film and its companion can be seen as a beautiful meditation in this idea. They don't love each other, but there are glimpses of a connection. Granted, they are fighting the biggest war the world has ever seen, but every once in a while you see soldiers on both sides realizing there is something bigger, something more important.
Clint Eastwood has done something special. At a time when the world is getting smaller, and understanding other cultures and peoples is becoming absolutely vital, a creative genius comes along and does something like this. Point of view is everything, and let us not forget that we (being whatever group you are a part of) do not have the only point of view that matters. This is epic, gutsy, eloquent, beautiful, intelligent, and important filmmaking. Thank you Mr. Eastwood for taking a chance to do something unique.

The Good Shepherd

Directed by Robert DeNiro, The Good Shepherd is a film like an expansive landscape painting, requiring space and time to take in. Yes, it is long, and there is not a whole lot of action. Instead, it gives you space to think. I enjoyed the experience thoroughly.

Matt Damon plays Edward Wilson, one of the few men who got in on the ground floor of the CIA. I am liking Damon more and more with each film. His career has been going in the opposite direction of Ben Affleck, his friend of many years. The reason, I believe, is that Affleck decided to appeal to girls, and Damon realized he needed to keep his fanbase mostly male. In the end, the girls grow up and realize that Affleck sucks as an actor and get over him. Anyway, back to the film. I love a movie that gives me a whole lot of information, and a great deal of time to process that information. This movie will not be for everyone (is any movie?), but for those looking for intellectual stimulation in the form of history, here you go.

One theme that struck me was one that has come up a lot lately: father-son relationships. Being a father myself, this is at the forefront of my mind. The lack of approval from the fathers in the film causes dire consequences for the sons. This could contrast my review of Blood Diamond. Wilson's father commits suicide fairly early in the film, and leaves a note. Wilson hangs on to the note, never opening it. What does it contain? If he read the letter, would his life have been different? Do the words of a father to a son have vital importance? Does he have distorted priorities because of a lack of a father? And how does this story play out in the next generation, with Edward's son, Edward Jr.? Well, watch the film to see how that story unravels.

Another point I found interesting was the scripture quoted on the wall of the CIA at the end: "And the truth shall set you free" (Jn. 8:32). The film offers an interesting interpretation of Jesus' words. If we have nothing to hide, people cannot hold something against us. How can they blackmail us, or coerce us or manipulate us? We should come clean, to everyone (confession is something we Protestants have lost the value in, sadly). Then we will be free; free of lying to ourselves and others. When we are honest, we do not need most of the fear we carry around. Wilson would not be nearly as fearful in the film if he were honest. Though this is not truly what Jesus meant, this truth is important to remember.

And now in terms of filmmaking (as I try to clean up confetti that has gotten into my keyboard, a prank by my wonderful students). The cinematography was spectacular. The acting was great, a wonderful cast: Damon, William Hurt, Angelina Jolie, DeNiro, Joe Pesci, Alec Baldwin, etc. A beautiful, expansive film that seems like it should be epic, but instead turns out to be intimate.

The Good Shepherd was being hyped up as an Oscar front-runner six months ago. Though it did not live up to that hype in many people's minds, it was an engrossing journey. Films should not tell us to turn our minds off. Rather, they should offer an atmosphere in which our minds can exercise. No, The Good Shepherd was not boring, it was quite the opposite. I love "slow" movies.

Little Miss Sunshine

One of my students just told me "Mr. O, just embrace the messiness of life." (They made a big mess on my classroom floor. Little Miss Sunshine does just that. The film is about a family, a messy family. You've got the cheesy, over-zealous dad (Greg Kinnear), the stoner grandpa (Alan Arkin), the mute, Nihilist son/step-son (Paul Dano), the fun-loving, innocent daughter (Abigail Breslin), the suicidal gay uncle (Steve Carell - the world's funniest man), and the mom trying to hold it all together (Toni Collette). Good times. "Hey, you know what would be a great idea? Let's go on a trip together." It's funny, trust me.
The goal is to get Olive to the Little Miss Sunshine pageant in California. So everyone piles into an old VW bus, and the shenanigans begin. We laugh, we get offended, we laugh some more, and along the way we fall in love with this quirky family.
This family is messy, they don't always (or ever) get along, and life is just plain awkward. Isn't that how the Church at large is most of the time, when we are completely honest? If we hide behind our own perfect facades, everything looks great. We have it all together, and so does the next guy. But when we are real with each other, it gets messy. We as Christians are world-famous for splitting into smaller factions, and smaller versions of those factions, and micro-versions of the small factions, etc., etc.. We are not good at getting along sometimes. We would rather go off and start our own church/organization/ministry/theology/family. Some of us believers were "born in," some converted at a young age, some later in life, some (well really all of us) are still "in process." The point is, we are diverse. The church body is quirky. Sometimes we are weird, awkward, peculiar, and bizarre. None of us has it all together, so how could a group of messy people have it all together? It's okay that we aren't perfect, and we won't be until "that day." We should strive to be good, righteous, and holy. But we should not strive to win a beauty contest. Olive goes to compete in this contest for children with completely psycho, nut-job parents. I won't give it away, but it's a great metaphor for life. Why win the beauty contest to be something you aren't? Why not be your awkward, weird, quirky self?
Little Miss Sunshine reminds us that real life is messy. Why don't we focus on what's really important, the deeper issues of life. Too many times we get caught up in the surface. We look for reasons to reject each other. We point out things we don't like. Let's "embrace the messiness of life" and embrace each other as messy people. Let's remember that we are family (get up everybody and sing).

Children of Men

The crisis: no children. Alfonso Cuaron's futuristic nightmare asks the question "What if women became infertile?" We/I take many things for granted. We forget that we are not necessarily entitled to this or that. Usually its something small, but what if it was something huge? No more children means to more humanity. No matter how much we advance technologically, childbirth is still mysterious, still a miracle, still something we cannot tame. Children are a gift. Aside from salvation itself, children are our greatest gift. Children of Men reminds us of this, lest we forget.
The story begins in London 18 years after the last child has been born. Hopelessness has thrown the world into chaos. Violence and fear have overtaken the world. This picture of the future reminds us that hope and fear are in conflict. The people of earth have lost hope in the future, and now are controlled by fear. But we as the audience follow the one hope of mankind, a girl appropriately named Kee (played Claire-Hope Ashitey). Key is pregnant and must get to The Human Project, a place that may or may not exist. There she will be safe. She is guided by Theo(Clive Owen), through whom we enter the story. Theo is the hero, not because he is a passionate idealist, but because he is a common man with impure motives who rises to the occasion when called to do so. And there you have it.
The film reminds us what an incredible gift children are. They are a miracle, a blessing, a complete joy. Imagine the world without children. Nowadays we have so many technological advances in the area of stopping children from coming in to the world. Our culture doesn't like children all that much. They get in the way of our lives. My son never sits still, gets fussy all the time now, and prevents my wife and I from getting out and doing things. Is it worth it? (The answer is a resounding YES! by the way).

If Children of Men did nothing more than this, it would be a good film. But it is much more than a "social issue" film. It is a story of hope and redemption, an underdog tale of good being brought out of evil. Does this sound familiar? A child is brought into the world against all odds. People are chasing/searching for the child. The child is born in incredibly bleak and harsh circumstances. The hope of the world, the fate of the world, rests upon the tiny shoulders of this newborn. This is the best "Christmas" film I have ever seen. It also reminds me of the story of David and Bathsheba. God brings something good (a child, Solomon) out of sin (adultery). In the same way, a child (good) is brought out of Kee's sexual promiscuity (she gets around, to put it mildly).

Another theme that permeates the film is a rejection of redemptive violence. Hollywood tends to tell us that if we just get the biggest guns, all our problems will be solved. There are two conflicting ideas in Children of Men. One is that the child should be rescued, brought to the Human Project. The other is to use the child as a rallying cry to rise up against the government, through violence. The Fishes, the rebels, believe that violence will bring about redemption. Theo rejects this idea, as does Kee. Our hope is in life, not death.

There has been much talk lately about Christians not only being Pro-Life with regard to abortion, but Pro-Life in all areas of life. This film, I believe, is for Life. The hope of the world rests in Life, not death.

As a side note, pay close attention to the scene that begins with the ping-pong ball being passed back and forth. It's unbelievably good filmmaking.

I have decided, in a moment of rapture, that this is the best movie I have seen all year.