Christian Realism

The Church Times (UK) has released a list of its top fifty religious films of all times (PDF). I’ve only seen six of the top ten, and fared only slightly better overall (35 of the 50). But the #1 pick is one of my favorite films of all time, religious or not. If nothing else, a great list of picks for my Netflix queue.

16 Blocks
Director: Richard Donner
Starring: Bruce Willis, Mos Def, David Morse
Trailer: www.apple.com/trailers/wb/16blocks/trailer
Rated PG-13 for violence, intense sequences of action and strong language

Reviewed by Paul Christian Glenn

On the day that Bruce Willis receives his inevitable lifetime achievement award from the Academy, 16 Blocks won’t be included in the highlight reel. That’s a shame, because the film very nearly works as a character study interrupted by a few action sequences. Instead, director Richard Donner settles for a routine action flick bookended by a few poignant character moments.

Willis plays Detective Jack Mosely, another variation of the broken-down cop character he’s perfected over countless other films. This time he’s an unapologetic alcoholic with a bum leg and a silly-looking cop-stache who shuffles around the precinct, grunting at colleagues and marking time until retirement.

One morning Mosely is assigned to escort a key witness (Mos Def) to the courthouse. It’s a simple assignment, he’s got two hours to go 16 blocks. Unfortunately for Mosely, he looks a lot like Bruce Willis, and that means things are going to get very noisy very quickly. It turns out the witness, Eddie Bunker, has dirt on a bunch of cops, and they’d all feel better if he died before giving his testimony. Cue the ambushes, shoot-outs, bus chases and intense looks of incredulity from Willis.

The first act, which sets up Mosely’s character and predicament, is nicely handled. Willis’ enduring popularity as an action star is his ability to project that “everyman” persona; no matter how many times we see him perform Herculean feats of improbable justice, we always believe that this is the first time anything like this has ever happened to him. It’s an undervalued quality in action flicks, and Willis’ knack for it is unmatched. As the simple assignment goes awry, Mosely digs down and reawakens the old cop who once believed in truth, justice and the American way. His face takes on that look of irrepressible determination, and we in the audience feel a familiar comfort.

In the second act, however, the film stumbles. Donner, a veteran action director, knows how to compose a thrilling chase sequence, but that in and of itself is not enough to buoy an entire act. Bickering and bonding, Mosely and Bunker race through seedy bars, dark alleyways and crummy apartment buildings as they try to elude the bloodthirsty cops. Bunker talks a mile a minute and Mosely responds with monosyllabic grunts, and we’re reminded of every other mismatched buddy shoot-em-up since Lethal Weapon, which Donner also directed. Mos Def uses the inherent comedy of their incompatibility to generate some easy laughs, but the urgent nature of their situation prevents the characters from becoming anything more than rough sketches.

And then, in the third act, a funny thing happens. The pedal-to-the-metal pace suddenly subsides, and you can practically hear the gears grinding as the story downshifts from big, overblown actioner to gripping, emotional drama. It’s an admirable twist on the genre, and it even plays well, with both Willis and Def rising to the occasion, but unfortunately it’s too little, too late. The film hasn’t earned its thoughtful resolution, and the powerful climax that could have been is only barely glimpsed.

Mos Def can’t yet open a picture by himself, but it won’t be long. He’s a charismatic actor who brings life and love to a very thin character here. After a silly but likeable turn in The Italian Job, he brought mesmerizing power to his small part in The Woodsman, easily holding his own against Kevin Bacon. 16 Blocks is his most prominent role to date, and should catch him some juicier parts.

David Morse is serviceable in the role of Mosely’s cold-blooded former partner who leads the band of dirty cops. We immediately know that he’s a sleazy guy, because he chews gum with his mouth open, which makes him detestable on principle alone.

Bruce Willis is reportedly working on a fourth Die Hard picture. At 51, he can’t have too many more of these blazing action movies in him, so one can only hope that he goes out on a high note. 16 Blocks is just too disparate to be it.

Capote
Director: Bennett Miller
Starring: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Catherine Keener, Chris Cooper
Trailer: www.sonyclassics.com/capote
Rated R for violent images and brief strong language

Reviewed by Paul Christian Glenn

New York literary darling Truman Capote was known for his flamboyant narcissism as much as his writing skill, and the new biopic bearing his name studies the unsettling ramifications of such singular devotion.

In 1958, following the success of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Capote was the toast of the cultural elite, a lively and novel personality at the center of every swanky social event. His fey, disarming manner concealed a biting wit that won him more than a few enemies, but as a writing talent he was untouchable. So highly regarded was he, in fact, that when The New Yorker editor William Shawn read a preliminary excerpt of Capote’s true crime story In Cold Blood, he committed to publishing the completed work in its entirety, no matter how many issues it took.

Capote chronicles the six-year period during which our man researched and wrote In Cold Blood, which would become his greatest literary achievement. Unfortunately the success came, as it so often does, with a devastating price tag. Sensing that his book could be an unprecedented triumph, he found himself reaching further for the story than moral tethers would allow; dazzled by the promise of immortality, he cut the cords and set himself adrift. Under the subtle direction of Bennett Miller, this story of Capote’s deliberate surrender to ambition is quietly horrifying, and it may be the best picture of the year.

The story begins in 1959. After noticing a newspaper article about the brutal murders of an entire family in rural Kansas, Capote (Philip Seymour Hoffman) determines to make the killings the subject of his next book. With childhood friend Harper Lee in tow, he boards a train and heads for the heart of America.

Upon arrival, the conspicuous outsider sweet-talks his way into the confidences of investigator Alvin Dewey (Chris Cooper), and that association brings him close to the interior workings of the case. Once inside, however, Capote is drawn to the murderers, mesmerized by their moral vacancy. He begins a dialogue with Perry Smith, the quieter of the two killers, and uses his powers of manipulation to cast an emotional spell over the troubled young drifter. As Smith spills his guts, Capote records every detail and gasps to his friends that the kid is “a gold mine.” When the killers are quickly convicted, Capote uses his wealth and influence to recruit savvy lawyers who can protract the appeals process long enough for him to get the complete story.

Getting such a sensational story straight from the killer’s mouth would be a scoop for any journalist, but Capote was writing a “non-fiction novel,” and he needed denouement. As the appeals process dragged from months into years, he grew increasingly obsessed with his unfinished masterpiece, at one point grumbling to an incredulous Lee, “If they win this appeal, I’ll have a complete nervous breakdown. I can only pray it goes my way.”

They did not win, and when the time came for a final appeal, Capote could hold out no longer. Cruelly dropping all but faintest pretense of concern, he cut off his support from the men — and inevitably got his ending.

In Cold Blood was published to critical acclaim and smashing commercial success. Capote became an icon, descended into alcoholism, and never completed another book. By the age of 59, he drank himself to death.

Philip Seymour Hoffman is without a doubt the most talented actor working in Hollywood. Playing a man who was practically a caricature in real life, he makes Capote’s striking eccentricities seem as natural as breathing. Even more impressive, however, is his portrayal of the struggle occurring just below the surface of Capote’s consciousness. Here is a man who cannot bear to see what he is doing, and so he looks past it, searching for redemption even as he’s committing the sin.

Toward the end of the film, when a tearful Capote tells Lee, “I did everything I could. I truly did,” we have the mournful feeling that he’s right. A stronger man could have done more, but Capote had done everything in his power. In the end, it wasn’t enough, not for Perry Smith and Richard Hickcock, and not for Capote himself.

Good Night, and Good Luck
Director: George Clooney
Starring: David Strathairn, George Clooney, Robert Downey, Jr.
Trailer: wip.warnerbros.com/goodnightgoodluck
Rated PG for mild thematic elements and brief language

Reviewed by Paul Christian Glenn

Back in 1994, when a flashy medical soap called ER took television by storm, who could’ve guessed that resident man-meat George Clooney would eventually evolve into one of the more interesting filmmakers in Hollywood? Just three years after leaving the smash series, Clooney made his directorial debut with 2002’s criminally overlooked Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, a taut, inventive little thriller based on the fantastic delusions of legendary game show host Chuck Barris.

Now, with Good Night, and Good Luck, Clooney returns to the milieu of vintage television, and this time he’s got something more serious on his mind - but don’t let that scare you off. Clooney may be known for his political activism, but his priorities are in order here, and he’s crafted a highly entertaining film that wastes not a moment on ponderous pontificating.

David Strathairn stars as Edward R. Murrow, the venerable CBS newsman who, along with producer Fred Friendly, waged a dangerous polemic against Senator Joseph McCarthy, whose accusations of pinko sympathy within the U.S. government were reaching a fever pitch. History reassures us that McCarthy was eventually censured by the Senate, and his foes largely escaped with their reputations intact, but at the height of the “Red Scare,” the political atmosphere was charged with paranoia, and no public or private figure was beyond McCarthy’s ambitious reach.

The film is presented in black and white, befitting a story that earnestly and endearingly paints its characters the same way. There is one brief scene where a member of Murrow’s staff quietly wonders if McCarthy may be right, but the moment feels obligatory. We’re not meant to wonder where the truth lies; this is the Star Wars of political journalism tales, with virtuous heroes and black-hatted bad guys. Nevermind that McCarthy was partially vindicated when the VENONA transcripts were declassified, it was the abuse of power and disregard for personal liberty that Murrow could not abide, and for that conviction Clooney sees Murrow as a hero. There is a naivete to this kind of storytelling, yes. But every once in a while we need a movie like this to remind us that there are still some ideals worth fighting for, quaint though they may seem.

All this is told with refreshing economy. The script, written by Clooney and Grant Heslov, is unconcerned with Murrow’s private life, and by foregoing any manufactured personal drama, Clooney keeps the pace brisk and pulls the whole thing together in less than 90 minutes. The dialogue is delicious; sharp and funny without resorting to the insufferable, strutting, self-conscious repartee that has infected so many television dramas in recent years.

Strathairn, of course, has received an Oscar nomination for his portrayal of Murrow, and Clooney brings his effortless affability to the role of Fred Friendly. Frank Langella, Jeff Daniels and Robert Downey, Jr. make strong impressions in small roles, and Ray Wise, who memorably creeped out Twin Peaks fans 13 years ago, turns in a particularly poignant performance as persecuted reporter Don Hollenbeck.

With Good Night, and Good Luck, George Clooney confirms that once his white-hot celebrity status fades, he can look forward to a significant career behind the camera.

Brokeback Mountain
Director: Ang Lee
Starring: Heath Ledger, Jake Gyllenhaal, Michelle Williams
Trailer: www.apple.com/trailers/focus_features/brokeback_mountain
Rated R for sexuality, language and some drug use

Reviewed by Paul Christian Glenn

It’s easier, I suppose, to sell Brokeback Mountain as an epic love story than as a dreary tale of frustration and misery. Ads for the film portray sweeping scenes of natural beauty accompanied by swelling romantic strings, encouraging the viewer to think of it as Gone With the Wind for the new millennium, and the campaign appears to have worked. Kenneth Turan of the L.A. Times says “It’s a deeply felt, emotional love story … the two lovers here just happen to be men,” while Peter Travers of Rolling Stone calls it “a defiantly erotic love story.”

But these are incredibly superficial readings of the film, which is worthwhile viewing for Christians and secularists alike. Ang Lee’s latest treatise on emotional suppression is a dark and truthful film about fear, pride, failure and betrayal. If love exists anywhere in this story, it is only as a theory, an untried hypothesis that haunts every character.

By now you probably know the story. The year is 1963. Two teenage drifters are hired to herd sheep on a remote mountain in the scenic wilds of Wyoming. Ennis Del Mar (Heath Ledger) is a stoic John Wayne type, while Jack Twist (Jake Gyllenhaal) is talkative and friendly, but far removed from the rest of the world, the hardened young cowboys discover that they have much in common. Both have been cast off by their families, both have a love for the great outdoors, and both dream of making a better life for themselves.

One particularly cold night, after the whiskey bottle has been emptied, the two climb under the same blanket and find themselves submitting to strange temptations. The sex is rough and awkward, and when morning light comes, they can barely look at one another. That initial encounter leads to another, however, and soon they accept their situation as “a one shot deal - nobody’s business but ours.”

The season ends and they go their separate ways. Both go on to marry unsuspecting young women and start conventional families, but within a few years Jack tracks Ennis down, and when they meet again they immediately pick up where they left off.

And this is where the “love” story becomes muddled, for rather than painting Jack and Ennis as innocent star-crossed lovers, the filmmakers allow the characters to become self-centered abusers who emotionally abandon their wives and children. Over the next two decades, the rough riders take frequent “fishing trips” together, escaping to the wild and trying desperately to recapture the magic of Brokeback Mountain. But as their home lives crumble and resentment takes root in their relationship, it becomes obvious that “happily ever after” is not in the cards for Jack and Ennis.

Director Ang Lee, who has dealt with themes of repression before in both Hulk and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, must be commended for not romanticizing the central relationship here. Lesser storytellers would have banished the wives to the background or portrayed them as villains, but Lee allows us to feel the pain of betrayal as these innocent victims realize the men they love are liars and cowards. Michelle Williams, in particular, delivers a powerful performance as Ennis’ wife, who discovers her husband’s secret early on and suffers for years in excruciating silence.

It is, however, Ennis himself to whom this picture truly belongs. Heath Ledger’s nuanced performance is so deeply internalized that he draws every element on the screen inexorably toward him. Hiding beneath his battered cowboy hat and swallowing more words than he’ll ever speak, Ennis Del Mar is one of the truest and most heartbreaking characters you’ll ever see. When he sobs angrily at Jack, “You’re the reason I’m like this! I ain’t got nothing … I ain’t nowhere … I can’t stand being like this no more,” it is a rage of self-hatred, a confused and broken man pushing away the only person who truly knows him. He might as well be screaming at God.

Clearly, we mustn’t let emotionalism cloud our understanding of the issues at hand in this movie, but the uproar from Christian political organizations is a bit puzzling. The multiplex is filled with movies that endorse all manner of sin, sexual and otherwise, but nobody’s boycotting those flicks. Is heterosexual sin no longer an issue? Why be especially worried about this particular film?

Like any good story, this one doesn’t preach at us. The behaviors of Jack and Ennis are never excused, they are only observed, and as often as not, the observation is damning. Yes, this story is sympathetic to gay characters, but is there any reason why Christians shouldn’t feel for these two wounded individuals? Brokeback Mountain doesn’t ask us to make a judgement about homosexuality, it asks if we can feel empathy and compassion for these desperate characters who have lost themselves completely. It’s a question the church should be ready to answer.

Note: This movie contains a homosexual sex scene, which, while not explicit, is unflinching. There is no nudity during the scene, but it’s likely to make the average viewer uncomfortable.

Second Note: The film also features several heterosexual sex scenes containing female nudity, but I haven’t heard any objections about that.

Munich
Director: Steven Spielberg
Starring: Eric Bana, Geoffrey Rush, Daniel Craig
Trailer: www.apple.com/trailers/universal/munich
Rated R for strong graphic violence, some sexual content, nudity and language

Reviewed by Paul Christian Glenn

Munich is Steven Spielberg’s most fascinating film to date. It’s far from perfect, but for a director who has spent most of his career pandering, Munich is a significant anomaly - a film with no obvious blockbuster potential. Too ponderous to succeed as a thriller, too crass to be an “important” film, and too vague to work as a mass entertainment, Munich is a unique work that defies easy categorization.

The story has been told before, in George Jonas’ 1984 book Vengeance and a 1986 HBO movie called Sword of Gideon. Even for those unacquainted with the previous tellings, the prologue here will likely be familiar. At the 1972 Olympic Games, 11 Jewish athletes were massacred by a PLO-funded terrorist group called Black September. Munich picks up shortly after those tragic events, as a team of Israeli assassins is assembled to track down those responsible for the attack and mete out bloody justice. Despite being hand-picked by the Prime Minister and funded by Mossad, the team is not officially recognized by the Israeli government. They travel in shadows throughout the Middle East and Europe, building bombs and methodically ticking names off their list.

The leader of this team is Avner (Eric Bana), a former Mossad bodyguard with a young wife at home and a baby on the way. Avner accepts the assignment knowing it will be dangerous, but little realizing how much it will cost him, physically, mentally and spiritually.

The assassins are a surprisingly ragtag bunch. Far from being the suave secret agents of paperback fiction, these spooks have human interiors, and as the bodies pile up, their personal constitutions break down. Doubt begins to color their conversations even as their activities grow more aggressive and gruesome. No matter how noble one’s cause, it is disturbing to look in the mirror and see a killer staring back. How far is too far? What kind of “collateral damage” is acceptable? And what does it mean when you start killing on principle instead of assignment?

The violence here is visceral. Spielberg uses grainy, bleached-out images to create a visually compelling landscape, and his camera mimics the cinematic style of the subject era. The movie is a pleasure to look at, and the performances are compelling. Eric Bana finally proves that there is, in fact, a reason he’s been cast in a string of high-profile projects over the last couple years.

Tonally, the film is a a jumble. At certain times it plays like Tarantino, lingering needlessly over sex and gore, while at others it seems to be channeling Merchant Ivory through Coppola. The story meanders, abandoning characters, suggesting plot threads that never develop, and taking detours through indulgent artistic flourishes (at least one of which is cringe-worthy).

But it is precisely this reckless narrative abandon that I like about the film. We already know Spielberg can do the formula thing. Here he kicks aside the training wheels he’s been carrying for two decades and barrels straight off the beaten path. So what if he loses his way in the woods? I’d rather see Spielberg spend the rest of his career making interesting films that don’t entirely work (like A.I. Artificial Intelligence) than predictable blockbusters that do (like Indiana Jones and the Search for his Bifocals).

Don’t be fooled by the obligatory controversy that has accompanied the film’s release. Some say the pic is anti-Israel; others say it is too soft on the PLO sympathizers. Both claims are completely irrelevant. Munich isn’t making a point, it’s asking a question: How do we reconcile these disparate passions that have fueled horrors throughout the world for centuries beyond remembrance? For once, Spielberg doesn’t have the answer, but he’s ready to start the dialogue.

Oldboy
Director: Chan-wook Park
Starring: Min-sik Choi, Ji-tae Yu, Hye-jeong Kang
Trailer: http://www.apple.com/trailers/independent/old_boy.html
Rated R strong violence including scenes of torture, sexuality and pervasive language

Reviewed by Paul Christian Glenn

Chan-wook Park’s Oldboy nearly took the Palm d’Or at Cannes in 2004, but settled for the Grand Jury Prize instead. Not bad for a bloodthirsty revenge flick that makes Quentin Tarantino’s work look genteel by comparison. In this breakout hit from South Korea, tongues are cut out with scissors, teeth are ripped out with hammers, and live animals are eaten as they squirm. There is, however, a beating heart beneath all this violence, and a bravura performance by Min-sik Choi that will keep you riveted to the screen. It is not just a tale of vengeance, but a reflection on sin and its consequences.

I’ll keep the summary spoiler-free. The story opens with a shabby-looking businessman cooling his heels in the slammer after a night of rowdy drunkenness. This is Dae-su, and his run-in with the police has caused him to miss his daughter’s birthday. He bought her a birthday present, a pair of strap-on angel wings, and he just wants to sober-up and get home. An old high-school buddy bails Dae-su out of jail, but on his way home he is inexplicably kidnapped, and his life is changed forever.

Dae-su finds himself imprisoned in a filthy hotel room. He does not know who his captors are. Meals are pushed through a slot in the door, and his only window to the outside world is the television. From the evening news he learns that his wife has been murdered. His hair and blood were found at the scene, and he is now a wanted man.

Time passes. He beats the walls, screams at the door, and begs his unseen keepers to tell him why he is being held, but the answers do not come. Spiralling into madness, he begins a journal and writes down every wrong thing he has done in his life, desperately trying to imagine who his captors might be. After reviewing his lifetime of sins, he concludes that “there are too many wrong deeds.”

Then one day, Dae-su is unexpectedly set free. He awakes on a rooftop with a suit of clothes, a wallet full of cash, and a cell phone. With his former life utterly lost, his only agenda is revenge, but his tormenter has something else in mind — horrors that Dae-su has not yet begun to imagine. What ensues is a violent cat-and-mouse game; Dae-su works madly to unravel the mystery of his imprisonment while his enemy remains one step ahead, toying with him physically, emotionally and mentally.

Dae-su meets a compassionate young woman who takes pity on him. After learning his story, she attaches herself to his cause, selflessly giving of herself despite his madness and instability. She is a light of grace in his darkness, and like so many redeemers, she quickly learns that to love is to invite pain and suffering.

I won’t reveal any more of the plot, except to say that as the puzzle pieces come together, the answers are not easy to face, not for Dae-su or the audience. Despite it’s tightly-plotted action, the film manages to become a sort of epic tragedy. The characters — both heroes and villains — are pawns in the hands of a cruel fate.

Min-sik Choi delivers a tricky performance. As Dae-su, he is equal parts action-hero and tragic everyman. With dark, sad eyes and the weight of the world on his shoulders, he is both diabolical and innocent. He walks the gruesome path that is set before him because he cannot do otherwise. He is tortured by the question that is common to us all: why have I suffered? His pursuit of the answer leads to the most obvious yet most unexpected place.

This movie ain’t for the squeamish. While not always believable, it is directed with confidence and flair, and it delivers the yucky. If blood and torture are not your thing, keep on walking. But if you can stomach the violence, you will be treated to something more complex and intriguing than you might expect.