A Quiet Place is the best new release I've seen in a long time. Here's a film that doesn't rely on name recognition (either as an installment in an ongoing franchise or a remake of a better, earlier film) but on genuine suspense, likable characters and good old fashion film-making to make a profit. I honestly don't even want to provide a plot synopsis. This is the kind of film that's best approached with as little prior knowledge as possible.
The performances are all around excellent. John Krasinski and Emily Blunt, who are married in real life, have excellent on screen chemistry. Millicent Simmonds and Noah Jupe, who play their children, are quite good. Simmonds, who is deaf in real life, does a particularly good job with her character. The direction, as I said, is stellar. Krasinski has crafted a remarkably subtle horror film, one that builds genuine tension and takes it time to build up these characters so that we really care about them. This is a really strong debut for him. I have a few small quibbles. There is one exchange of dialogue that is a little too on-the-nose for me and the concept stretches credibility at times but really, this is mostly nitpicking. Overall the film is really solid.
A Quiet Place is easily the best film I've seen so far this year. Indeed its probably one of my favorite films of the past decade. Highly recommended!
Score: 9/10
Sunday, April 22, 2018
Sunday, April 15, 2018
Book Review: A Wrinkle in Time
I decided to (finally) read this book before the new movie came out. I didn't see the movie...
In the back of my library's copy of A Wrinkle in Time is a transcript of the speech Madelaine L'Engle made when she received the Newbery Award. In it she says "A writer of fantasy, fairly tale, or myth must inevitably discover that he is not writing out of his own knowledge or experience, but out of something both deeper and wider." Reading this book really struck a chord in me. It evoked fears and desires that have been within me since my childhood. The trust and faith one has in his parents, the fear of rejection or failure, the strength and support you gain from the people you love, all of these feelings came flooding back as I read L'Engle's story. That's what a good fantasy story does, it speaks to something inside us that is at once deeply human and yet beyond our comprehension. "What a child doesn’t realize until he is grown is that in responding to fantasy, fairly tale, and myth he is responding to what Erich Fromm calls the one universal language, the one and only language in the world that cuts across all barriers of time, place, race, and culture."
Telling the story of a young girl named Meg Murry and her the quest she embarks on to find her long missing father, the book impressed me with its seamless blend of science fiction and fantasy. Camazotz is a dystopian world in the tradition of Orwell and Huxley and the planet's overlord, IT, a giant telepathic brain, could be ripped right out of a 60's Marvel comic. Similarly tessering, the books form of inter-dimensional travel that lands Mr. Murray in trouble, is an almost Trekian sci-fi concept explained using what Futurama's Philip Fry would call "a simple analogy."
On the other hand, the book is filled with many supernatural characters. Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who, and Mrs. Which, referred to by Calvin as messengers from God, are mysterious and ethereal. The form they choose to take at the beginning of the book, that of a trio of elderly women, is only for the benefit of Meg, Calvin and Charles Wallace. The three beings grasp of human language and form is limited. Mrs. Who can only speak using literary allusions and and Mrs. Which is almost invisible and can only speak in slow, broken fragments. Yet this is not portrayed as a weakness but a result of their higher power. They are so far above human beings that our customs are difficult to grasp.
Therein is the crucial difference between sci-fi and fantasy. Both contain concepts which are beyond our current mode of existence but, as I alluded to before, while science fiction is grounded in the possible fantasy touches something beyond human understanding and existence. Perhaps Mr. Murry says it best when he tells Meg, "I think that with our human limitations we're not always able to understand the explanations. But you see, Meg, just because we don't understand doesn't mean that the explanation doesn't exist."
At its heart A Wrinkle in Time is a coming-of-age tale. Meg must come to terms, as we all eventually must, with the fact that her father is neither omnipotent nor infallible, that she is stronger then she knows, and that it is ultimately up to her to face IT and save her brother. In many ways she is the classic Campbellian mythic hero, who hears the call, is counciled by a wise mentor (Mrs. Whatsit), crosses over into a new realm (through the tesseract), faces trials (mainly on Camazotz), is reborn and returns to her home a more fully formed individual.
This is something I can really relate to personally. Seeing the fallibility of my parents was a long and painful process. Like Meg, I often felt anger toward my father for not living up to the unrealistically ideal image my childhood had built around him. Similarly, I have had much difficulty (and still sometimes do) taking responsibility for my own actions and choices. Its so much easier to let others make the important decisions but, in the end, only you can decide your fate, as Meg does when she faces IT on her own.
It contains many Christian themes, both explicit and more subtle. In meeting with the three Mrs. W's Meg becomes entwined in a larger cosmic conflict between good and evil, light and darkness. The Black Thing, the novel's dark, demonic source of all evil, is seen enveloping the world. By choosing to fight against it, Meg, Charles Wallace, and Calvin follow in the footsteps of other heroic men and women throughout history who have done the same, chiefly Jesus Christ.
"Who have our fighters been?" Calvin asked.
"Oh, you must know them, dear," Mrs. Whatsit said. Mrs. Who’s spectacles shone out at them triumphantly, "And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not."
"Jesus!" Charles Wallace said. "Why of course, Jesus!"
Through this passage the novel acknowledges Jesus as the source of strength and courage against darkness and evil. The way the novel portrays evil is itself really evocative. The cold chill and sense of dread left by the black thing, and everything it touches reflects the inner trepidation we all feel in the presence of evil. Who hasn't shuttered at hearing of a callous murder, rape or other malignant act. By contrast the overwhelming force of IT's vile mind, threatening to rob our hero's of their free will, can be seen to represent the power of sin to enslave us, to rob us of grace and make us numb to the saving power of God's light.
Finally, A Wrinkle in Time is about the power of love. Not romantic love but true love, the love of God for his creation. It's Meg's love for her friends and family and for Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who and Mrs. Which, that she is able to defeat IT and save her brother. She loves him but hates what he becomes after being consumed by IT. Before leaving to try and save him Mrs. Whatsit gives her a gift: her love.
"But how could she use it? What was she meant to do? If she could give love to IT perhaps it would shrivel up and die, for she was sure that IT could not withstand love.
But she could love Charles Wallace. She could stand there and she could love Charles Wallace."
In the end it's the power of love and of family that allows Meg to triumph. We all have to grow up and face life on our own, but its always with the love and support of those around us, the love that has helped to shape us into the people we are now. More subtly the novel is touching on the seeming paradox at the heart of the Christian creed: that it is in loving surrender and trust that we truly overcome evil and sin, that we can be reborn if only we die to our old selves. It's moments like this that make A Wrinkle in Time a truly timeless (no pun intended) book.
In the back of my library's copy of A Wrinkle in Time is a transcript of the speech Madelaine L'Engle made when she received the Newbery Award. In it she says "A writer of fantasy, fairly tale, or myth must inevitably discover that he is not writing out of his own knowledge or experience, but out of something both deeper and wider." Reading this book really struck a chord in me. It evoked fears and desires that have been within me since my childhood. The trust and faith one has in his parents, the fear of rejection or failure, the strength and support you gain from the people you love, all of these feelings came flooding back as I read L'Engle's story. That's what a good fantasy story does, it speaks to something inside us that is at once deeply human and yet beyond our comprehension. "What a child doesn’t realize until he is grown is that in responding to fantasy, fairly tale, and myth he is responding to what Erich Fromm calls the one universal language, the one and only language in the world that cuts across all barriers of time, place, race, and culture."
Telling the story of a young girl named Meg Murry and her the quest she embarks on to find her long missing father, the book impressed me with its seamless blend of science fiction and fantasy. Camazotz is a dystopian world in the tradition of Orwell and Huxley and the planet's overlord, IT, a giant telepathic brain, could be ripped right out of a 60's Marvel comic. Similarly tessering, the books form of inter-dimensional travel that lands Mr. Murray in trouble, is an almost Trekian sci-fi concept explained using what Futurama's Philip Fry would call "a simple analogy."
On the other hand, the book is filled with many supernatural characters. Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who, and Mrs. Which, referred to by Calvin as messengers from God, are mysterious and ethereal. The form they choose to take at the beginning of the book, that of a trio of elderly women, is only for the benefit of Meg, Calvin and Charles Wallace. The three beings grasp of human language and form is limited. Mrs. Who can only speak using literary allusions and and Mrs. Which is almost invisible and can only speak in slow, broken fragments. Yet this is not portrayed as a weakness but a result of their higher power. They are so far above human beings that our customs are difficult to grasp.
Therein is the crucial difference between sci-fi and fantasy. Both contain concepts which are beyond our current mode of existence but, as I alluded to before, while science fiction is grounded in the possible fantasy touches something beyond human understanding and existence. Perhaps Mr. Murry says it best when he tells Meg, "I think that with our human limitations we're not always able to understand the explanations. But you see, Meg, just because we don't understand doesn't mean that the explanation doesn't exist."
![]() |
| Madeleine L'Engle with her grandaughters |
This is something I can really relate to personally. Seeing the fallibility of my parents was a long and painful process. Like Meg, I often felt anger toward my father for not living up to the unrealistically ideal image my childhood had built around him. Similarly, I have had much difficulty (and still sometimes do) taking responsibility for my own actions and choices. Its so much easier to let others make the important decisions but, in the end, only you can decide your fate, as Meg does when she faces IT on her own.
![]() |
| Sunrise as seen from the International Space Station |
"Who have our fighters been?" Calvin asked.
"Oh, you must know them, dear," Mrs. Whatsit said. Mrs. Who’s spectacles shone out at them triumphantly, "And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not."
"Jesus!" Charles Wallace said. "Why of course, Jesus!"
Through this passage the novel acknowledges Jesus as the source of strength and courage against darkness and evil. The way the novel portrays evil is itself really evocative. The cold chill and sense of dread left by the black thing, and everything it touches reflects the inner trepidation we all feel in the presence of evil. Who hasn't shuttered at hearing of a callous murder, rape or other malignant act. By contrast the overwhelming force of IT's vile mind, threatening to rob our hero's of their free will, can be seen to represent the power of sin to enslave us, to rob us of grace and make us numb to the saving power of God's light.
Finally, A Wrinkle in Time is about the power of love. Not romantic love but true love, the love of God for his creation. It's Meg's love for her friends and family and for Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who and Mrs. Which, that she is able to defeat IT and save her brother. She loves him but hates what he becomes after being consumed by IT. Before leaving to try and save him Mrs. Whatsit gives her a gift: her love.
"But how could she use it? What was she meant to do? If she could give love to IT perhaps it would shrivel up and die, for she was sure that IT could not withstand love.
But she could love Charles Wallace. She could stand there and she could love Charles Wallace."
In the end it's the power of love and of family that allows Meg to triumph. We all have to grow up and face life on our own, but its always with the love and support of those around us, the love that has helped to shape us into the people we are now. More subtly the novel is touching on the seeming paradox at the heart of the Christian creed: that it is in loving surrender and trust that we truly overcome evil and sin, that we can be reborn if only we die to our old selves. It's moments like this that make A Wrinkle in Time a truly timeless (no pun intended) book.
Sunday, April 1, 2018
Lent Reviews Week 6: Paul, Apostle of Christ (2018)
Paul, Apostle of Christ was released on March 23rd, 2018. It is written and directed by Andrew Hyatt. It tells the story of St. Paul's (James Faulkner) last days in the Mamertine prison in Rome, where he awaits his execution. Meanwhile the Christian community in Rome faces violent persecution as a result of being blamed for starting the Great Fire of Rome by Emperor Nero.
At this point Christian movies (and by that I mean films made by Christian directors and heavily featuring Christian themes) have a pretty bad reputation in the world of film criticsim. Heavy handed films like God's Not Dead and dull, uninspired biblical adaptations like Son of God have convinced many that Christian filmmakers are only interested in making safe, manipulative films that, largely, preach to the choir. As an aspiring Catholic critic myself, I am dismayed that these filmmakers are not trying to take more risks and to challenge themselves and their audiences. So I went into Paul, Apostle of Christ with a certain amount of trepidation. Would this be yet another pandering, preachy film that caters solely to the tastes of Christian audiences? I'm pleased to report that that is not the case. On the contrary, this film surprised me with its subtlety, its challenging themes, and its fresh take on the apostle Paul.
Paul is portrayed as a man haunted by his past. His dreams are filled with images of the men and women he killed in his persecution of Christians. Racked with guilt, Paul places his trust in Christ. "Your grace is sufficient" he repeats to himself. While the bible gives us little insight into the inner workings of Paul's mind, his teachings contain a heavy focus on atonement, the idea that we are redeemed from our sins by the death and resurrection of Jesus. "God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them." (2 Corinthians 5:19)
The film interweaves Paul's story with two subplots. In one Luke (Jim Caviezel) , who records Paul's last epistle for posterity, visits the persecuted Christian community in Rome, lead by Priscilla (Joanne Whalley) and Aquilla (John Lynch). Aquilla wants the community to leave Rome to escape the violence while Priscilla prefers to stay and serve the city's needy. Both look to Paul for guidance but the apostle can only urge them to follow their own consciences. Other members of the community want to take a more assertive approach and join with Romans who hope to overthrow Nero. In the face of violent persecution they can see no other effective response then more violence. Even Luke has doubts, telling Paul that he can see no reason behind the brutality. But Paul, along with Priscilla and Aquilla, refuse to give in to this kind of thinking. Christ's way calls for love and forgiveness, not vindictiveness or violence. Portraying this kind of conflict within the Christian community is a bold move on the part of the filmmakers, and this subplot contains some of the more stirring drama in the movie.
The other subplot involves the prefect of the Mamertine prison, Mauritius (Olivier Martinez). Mauritius daughter is dying from a deadly illness and none of the Roman doctors he consults offer any hope. His wife (Antonia Campbell-Hughes) blames him for the illness, believing that he has angered the gods through his lenient treatment of Paul. The prefect has a certain respect for the apostle, and recognizes that the emperor is using him as a scapegoat. Throughout the film Mauritius is seen offering sacrifice to his pagan gods, hoping for a cure. Goaded by his wife, he eventually decides to condemn Luke to the Colosseum but this does nothing to improve his daughter's condition, and she comes dangerously close to death. Desperate, Mauritius has Luke released, having heard that he is a skilled physician.
One might think their would be some sort of miraculous cure performed at this point, followed by a conversion to Christ on the part of Mauritius, but Luke's witness is much more subtle. Despite his aversion to the Romans the evangelist decides to help heal Mauritius' daughter and even risks revealing the location of Priscilla and Aquilla's community so he can fetch medicine for her. Mauritius is taken back by Luke's actions, yet he doesn't convert. The seed has been planted but, perhaps, it has yet to take root.
While I appreciate the relative complexity and subtlety of both of these subplots I do think the film has some difficulty juggling them. We're well into the first act of the film before Paul himself is introduced and too much time is devoted to scenes involving Mauritius, his family and his cohorts which become repetitive and feel somewhat redundant after a time. This also makes the timeline of events a bit obscure. I'm unclear whether the film takes place over a few weeks or a few months. I addition to this I think that the dialogue could have done with some revision. At times it feels out of place coming from people living in this time period. Not that I except the dialogue to be "period accurate", that would require it being in Greek, Aramaic and Latin, among other things, but it should at least "sound" that way.
Andrew Hyatt does a pretty good job in the director's chair. His use of long takes and handheld camera work give the film a gritty, lived in feel, as does his somewhat unconventional use of lense flare. Contrast this to the the sequences involving Paul's dreams and flashback's, where Hyatt uses slow motion and high contrast lighting to add an otherworldy effect. The cast all put in good work as well. James Faulkner's Paul is a haunted, weary man, yet one who, nonetheless, exudes strength. Jim Caviezel's Luke is a more conflicted figure, one who has a certain reverence for Paul yet also an easy comradeship. These are clearly two men who have been through a lot together. Joanne Whalley and John Lynch are also quite good as Priscilla and Aquilla. Whalley, especially, brings a sense of conviction and empathy to her role. Olivier Martinez is also well cast as the cynical, world weary Mauritius.
Paul, Apostle of Christ doesn't break any new ground. This is not a transcendent piece of Christian art. But it is a solid piece of entertainment, with a fairly nuanced script, capable direction, and quality performances.
Score: 8/10
Well, that wraps up my Lent Reviews for 2018. Thanks for reading guys!
At this point Christian movies (and by that I mean films made by Christian directors and heavily featuring Christian themes) have a pretty bad reputation in the world of film criticsim. Heavy handed films like God's Not Dead and dull, uninspired biblical adaptations like Son of God have convinced many that Christian filmmakers are only interested in making safe, manipulative films that, largely, preach to the choir. As an aspiring Catholic critic myself, I am dismayed that these filmmakers are not trying to take more risks and to challenge themselves and their audiences. So I went into Paul, Apostle of Christ with a certain amount of trepidation. Would this be yet another pandering, preachy film that caters solely to the tastes of Christian audiences? I'm pleased to report that that is not the case. On the contrary, this film surprised me with its subtlety, its challenging themes, and its fresh take on the apostle Paul.
Paul is portrayed as a man haunted by his past. His dreams are filled with images of the men and women he killed in his persecution of Christians. Racked with guilt, Paul places his trust in Christ. "Your grace is sufficient" he repeats to himself. While the bible gives us little insight into the inner workings of Paul's mind, his teachings contain a heavy focus on atonement, the idea that we are redeemed from our sins by the death and resurrection of Jesus. "God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them." (2 Corinthians 5:19)
The film interweaves Paul's story with two subplots. In one Luke (Jim Caviezel) , who records Paul's last epistle for posterity, visits the persecuted Christian community in Rome, lead by Priscilla (Joanne Whalley) and Aquilla (John Lynch). Aquilla wants the community to leave Rome to escape the violence while Priscilla prefers to stay and serve the city's needy. Both look to Paul for guidance but the apostle can only urge them to follow their own consciences. Other members of the community want to take a more assertive approach and join with Romans who hope to overthrow Nero. In the face of violent persecution they can see no other effective response then more violence. Even Luke has doubts, telling Paul that he can see no reason behind the brutality. But Paul, along with Priscilla and Aquilla, refuse to give in to this kind of thinking. Christ's way calls for love and forgiveness, not vindictiveness or violence. Portraying this kind of conflict within the Christian community is a bold move on the part of the filmmakers, and this subplot contains some of the more stirring drama in the movie.
The other subplot involves the prefect of the Mamertine prison, Mauritius (Olivier Martinez). Mauritius daughter is dying from a deadly illness and none of the Roman doctors he consults offer any hope. His wife (Antonia Campbell-Hughes) blames him for the illness, believing that he has angered the gods through his lenient treatment of Paul. The prefect has a certain respect for the apostle, and recognizes that the emperor is using him as a scapegoat. Throughout the film Mauritius is seen offering sacrifice to his pagan gods, hoping for a cure. Goaded by his wife, he eventually decides to condemn Luke to the Colosseum but this does nothing to improve his daughter's condition, and she comes dangerously close to death. Desperate, Mauritius has Luke released, having heard that he is a skilled physician.
One might think their would be some sort of miraculous cure performed at this point, followed by a conversion to Christ on the part of Mauritius, but Luke's witness is much more subtle. Despite his aversion to the Romans the evangelist decides to help heal Mauritius' daughter and even risks revealing the location of Priscilla and Aquilla's community so he can fetch medicine for her. Mauritius is taken back by Luke's actions, yet he doesn't convert. The seed has been planted but, perhaps, it has yet to take root.
While I appreciate the relative complexity and subtlety of both of these subplots I do think the film has some difficulty juggling them. We're well into the first act of the film before Paul himself is introduced and too much time is devoted to scenes involving Mauritius, his family and his cohorts which become repetitive and feel somewhat redundant after a time. This also makes the timeline of events a bit obscure. I'm unclear whether the film takes place over a few weeks or a few months. I addition to this I think that the dialogue could have done with some revision. At times it feels out of place coming from people living in this time period. Not that I except the dialogue to be "period accurate", that would require it being in Greek, Aramaic and Latin, among other things, but it should at least "sound" that way.
Andrew Hyatt does a pretty good job in the director's chair. His use of long takes and handheld camera work give the film a gritty, lived in feel, as does his somewhat unconventional use of lense flare. Contrast this to the the sequences involving Paul's dreams and flashback's, where Hyatt uses slow motion and high contrast lighting to add an otherworldy effect. The cast all put in good work as well. James Faulkner's Paul is a haunted, weary man, yet one who, nonetheless, exudes strength. Jim Caviezel's Luke is a more conflicted figure, one who has a certain reverence for Paul yet also an easy comradeship. These are clearly two men who have been through a lot together. Joanne Whalley and John Lynch are also quite good as Priscilla and Aquilla. Whalley, especially, brings a sense of conviction and empathy to her role. Olivier Martinez is also well cast as the cynical, world weary Mauritius.
Paul, Apostle of Christ doesn't break any new ground. This is not a transcendent piece of Christian art. But it is a solid piece of entertainment, with a fairly nuanced script, capable direction, and quality performances.
Score: 8/10
Well, that wraps up my Lent Reviews for 2018. Thanks for reading guys!
Sunday, March 25, 2018
Lent Reviews Week 5: Brooklyn (2015)
While this isn't exactly a religious movie it does have some moral and religious themes in it so...
Brooklyn was released in 2015. It is directed by John Crowley with a screenplay by Nick Hornby, based on the book by Colm Tóibín. It takes place in 1951 and follows Eilis Lacey (Saoirse Ronan), a young Irish woman who comes to America seeking a better life.
Crowley's film is filled with themes about the importance of family, community and human connection in one's life. When she first travels to New York, Eilis feels terribly homesick. The hustle and bustle of the city overwhelms her and she misses her family back in Ireland, especially her sister Rose (Fiona Glascott). She has a talk with Father Flood (Jim Broadbent), the Irish priest who arranged for her to come to America and get a job. He tells her that "Homesickness is like most sicknesses. It will make you feel wretched, and then it will move on to somebody else." For her first Christmas in New York she volunteers to help at Father Flood's soup kitchen, a task the other girls from her boarding house scoff at, but one which she finds comforting, as it reminds her of home. It's only when she meets Tony Fiorello (Emory Cohen) that she really starts to feel at home in Brooklyn. Tony is a kind-hearted, decent, down-to-earth guy. A second generation Italian American, he works as a plumber and loves the Brooklyn Dodgers.
Eventually, Eilis and Tony fall in love but, just when she is starting to build a new life for herself, Eilis learns that her sister has died. Tony, afraid of losing her, insists that they get married in secret before she returns to Ireland for the funeral. But, when she arrives there, Eilis finds herself drawn back into her old life. The people of the town treat her like a returning daughter. She is offered her sister's old bookkeeping job, on a temporary basis and her best friend Nancy (Eileen O'Higgins) invites Eilis to her wedding, which is a week after her planned return to Brooklyn. She begins to develop feeling for Jim Farrel (Domhnall Gleeson), a young man who lives in her hometown. She feels the pull of a supporting community and of a simple, more pastoral life compared to the hustle and bustle of the city. Ultimately she must choose between her life in Ireland, or the new one she's built for herself in Brooklyn.
In the end she decides to return to her new husband in Brooklyn. Going back to Ireland has given her a sense of closure about her sister's death and allowed her to say goodbye to her family and her homeland in a more cathartic way. Eilis had decided not to tell her family about her new husband. One has to wonder if part of her always wanted to stay in Ireland. She shows real conviction by deciding to go back to America and informs her mother of her recent marriage before she leaves. On the return journey, she meets another Irish immigrant, who is uneasy about the prospects of her new life. Eilis offers her advice, telling her, "you will catch yourself thinking about something or someone who has no connection with the past, someone who's only yours. And you'll realise that this is where your life is."
For Catholic viewers there may be potential concerns about the film's treatment of sexuality. Eilis and Tony sleep together before they're married. And, after they're married, she considers staying in Ireland and leaving him behind. While this is a potential red flag, especially for families there are some mitigating circumstances. For one thing, they only do it once and this is the night before their married. For another, Eilis and Tony are portrayed as imperfect individuals trying to find their way, not necessarily as role models. They are real, flesh and blood people and people make mistakes. In some ways this relates to the film's portrayal of faith.
The characters in Brooklyn treat faith in a matter-of-fact way. For Irish and Italian Americans in the 1950's, Catholicism was an essential part of their lives, one most probably took for granted, and the film portrays this really well. At the boarding house where Eilis stays the landlady leads the four girls there in grace before they eat. When Father Flood informs her of Rose's death she expresses anguish, saying she'll never see her sister again, to this he says, "You know that I think you will and she will be watching over you, every day, for the rest of your life." Faith, community and family are all sources of strength and support for the characters in the film. There is one scene in particular, where Eilis meets Tony's family for the first time, that surprised me with its sense of earnestness.
Brooklyn is a remarkably quiet and restrained film. This refreshingly down-to-earth tone is due to Nick Hornby's subtle, nuanced script, John Crowley's sensitive direction and to the naturalistic performances from Saoirse Ronan and the rest of the cast. Cinematography Yves Bélanger imbues the film with a bright, warm color pallet. This, along with Michael Brook's soothing score, give the film a calm, inviting feel. Amid all the big loud blockbusters and searing dramas currently inhabiting the megaplex, watching a film like Brooklyn is almost therapeutic.
Score: 9/10
Brooklyn was released in 2015. It is directed by John Crowley with a screenplay by Nick Hornby, based on the book by Colm Tóibín. It takes place in 1951 and follows Eilis Lacey (Saoirse Ronan), a young Irish woman who comes to America seeking a better life.
Crowley's film is filled with themes about the importance of family, community and human connection in one's life. When she first travels to New York, Eilis feels terribly homesick. The hustle and bustle of the city overwhelms her and she misses her family back in Ireland, especially her sister Rose (Fiona Glascott). She has a talk with Father Flood (Jim Broadbent), the Irish priest who arranged for her to come to America and get a job. He tells her that "Homesickness is like most sicknesses. It will make you feel wretched, and then it will move on to somebody else." For her first Christmas in New York she volunteers to help at Father Flood's soup kitchen, a task the other girls from her boarding house scoff at, but one which she finds comforting, as it reminds her of home. It's only when she meets Tony Fiorello (Emory Cohen) that she really starts to feel at home in Brooklyn. Tony is a kind-hearted, decent, down-to-earth guy. A second generation Italian American, he works as a plumber and loves the Brooklyn Dodgers.
Eventually, Eilis and Tony fall in love but, just when she is starting to build a new life for herself, Eilis learns that her sister has died. Tony, afraid of losing her, insists that they get married in secret before she returns to Ireland for the funeral. But, when she arrives there, Eilis finds herself drawn back into her old life. The people of the town treat her like a returning daughter. She is offered her sister's old bookkeeping job, on a temporary basis and her best friend Nancy (Eileen O'Higgins) invites Eilis to her wedding, which is a week after her planned return to Brooklyn. She begins to develop feeling for Jim Farrel (Domhnall Gleeson), a young man who lives in her hometown. She feels the pull of a supporting community and of a simple, more pastoral life compared to the hustle and bustle of the city. Ultimately she must choose between her life in Ireland, or the new one she's built for herself in Brooklyn.
In the end she decides to return to her new husband in Brooklyn. Going back to Ireland has given her a sense of closure about her sister's death and allowed her to say goodbye to her family and her homeland in a more cathartic way. Eilis had decided not to tell her family about her new husband. One has to wonder if part of her always wanted to stay in Ireland. She shows real conviction by deciding to go back to America and informs her mother of her recent marriage before she leaves. On the return journey, she meets another Irish immigrant, who is uneasy about the prospects of her new life. Eilis offers her advice, telling her, "you will catch yourself thinking about something or someone who has no connection with the past, someone who's only yours. And you'll realise that this is where your life is."
For Catholic viewers there may be potential concerns about the film's treatment of sexuality. Eilis and Tony sleep together before they're married. And, after they're married, she considers staying in Ireland and leaving him behind. While this is a potential red flag, especially for families there are some mitigating circumstances. For one thing, they only do it once and this is the night before their married. For another, Eilis and Tony are portrayed as imperfect individuals trying to find their way, not necessarily as role models. They are real, flesh and blood people and people make mistakes. In some ways this relates to the film's portrayal of faith.
The characters in Brooklyn treat faith in a matter-of-fact way. For Irish and Italian Americans in the 1950's, Catholicism was an essential part of their lives, one most probably took for granted, and the film portrays this really well. At the boarding house where Eilis stays the landlady leads the four girls there in grace before they eat. When Father Flood informs her of Rose's death she expresses anguish, saying she'll never see her sister again, to this he says, "You know that I think you will and she will be watching over you, every day, for the rest of your life." Faith, community and family are all sources of strength and support for the characters in the film. There is one scene in particular, where Eilis meets Tony's family for the first time, that surprised me with its sense of earnestness.
Brooklyn is a remarkably quiet and restrained film. This refreshingly down-to-earth tone is due to Nick Hornby's subtle, nuanced script, John Crowley's sensitive direction and to the naturalistic performances from Saoirse Ronan and the rest of the cast. Cinematography Yves Bélanger imbues the film with a bright, warm color pallet. This, along with Michael Brook's soothing score, give the film a calm, inviting feel. Amid all the big loud blockbusters and searing dramas currently inhabiting the megaplex, watching a film like Brooklyn is almost therapeutic.
Score: 9/10
Sunday, March 18, 2018
Lent Reviews Week 4: The Ten Commandments (1956)
The Ten Commandments was released on October 5th, 1956. It is directed by Cecil B. DeMille and written by Aeneas MacKenzie, Jesse L. Lasky Jr., Jack Gariss and Fredric M. Frank. It tells the story of Moses (Charlton Heston) from the book of Exodus, beginning with his birth and ending with God's giving him the covenant on Mount Sinai.
The Ten Commandments is so ingrained in the American pop culture consciousness that reviewing it is almost a futile exercise at this point. But, having set out to review religious films every lent, I knew I'd have to tackle it sooner or later. Most of my readers are probably already familiar with Heston and Brynner's larger-then-life portrayal of Moses and Rameses, with DeMille's penchant for pageantry and spectacle and with the film's questionable fidelity to biblical and historical texts. Of course, almost everyone knows the basic story. The baby Moses is hidden in the Nile to escape the wrath of Pharaoh but is found by the monarch's daughter who raises him as her own son. After learning of his true heritage Moses is forced to flee Egypt when he kills the overseer. In the desert he encounters God, speaking through the burning bush, who tells him to return and free his people from bondage. Moses and his brother Aaron confront Pharaoh, there are nine plagues, and eventually Pharaoh allows the Israelites to leave Egypt.
DeMille's film focuses on three characters: Moses, his cousin Rameses (Yul Brynner) and the Egytptian princess, Nefretiri (Anne Baxter). Moses and Nefretiri are in love with each other, but Rameses wants both the Princess and the throne of Egypt and he sees Moses as a rival. Rameses father, Sethi (Sir Cedric Hardwicke) favors Moses for the throne, as he is the more level headed and fair minded of the two men. This is displayed in the movie by contrasting the strategies Moses and Rameses use to build Sethi's great city. In order to thwart Moses, Rameses persuades Sethi to have his cousin oversee the building of a new city in honor of the Pharaoh's jubilee, a task that Rameses has struggled with due to the intractability of the Hebrew slaves. But Moses succeeds where Rameses failed by treating the slaves with dignity (as much as that's possible for a slave) and winning their respect.
Despite this, Moses is doomed to fail. When his mother's servant, Memnet (Judith Anderson), attempts to reveal his true origins as a Hebrew slave, Nefretiri kills her to silence her. When Moses finds out he rejects his Egyptian upbringing and joins his Hebrew brothers as a slave, though he does not reveal his true identity to them. His true identity is eventually found out by Rameses when Moses kills the overseer, Baka (Vincent Price), to save Joshua (John Derek), a Hebrew stone-cutter, from death. Sethi, on learning of his sister's long deception and of Moses true origin, asks him if he is their promised deliverer. Claiming that he would deliver them from bondage if he had the power, Moses is banished from Egypt and Rameses becomes the new Pharoah.
While Moses and Rameses are placed in contrast as examples of good and bad leadership, Nefretiri is caught between the two men. Her desire for Moses is slowly revealed to be an unhealthy one. First, when she kills Memnet to keep her from revealing Moses origin, thereby keeping him off the throne and out of her reach, we see how far she is willing to go to keep Moses by her side. When Moses returns from the desert with a newfound faith and devotion to God he rejects her. This turns her love for him into spite and she manipulates Rameses, now her husband, into rejecting Moses request to let his people go. Even then, however, she still hopes that Moses holds a place in his heart for her, refusing to believe that her son will die as Moses warns. When he is killed by the angel of God on the night of Passover, her feelings toward Moses turn to bitterness and hatred. When Rameses relents and lets the Hebrews go she once again "hardens his heart" persuading him to pursue them with his chariots.
This idea, that God uses Nefretiri to harden the heart of Pharoah, is one of The Ten Commandments more novel interpretations of the scriptural story. Quoting (or rather paraphrasing) scripture the narration announces that "again, pharaoh's, heart was hardened" right before she convinces him to take his chariots and pursue the Israelites. DeMille takes many liberties with scripture, chiefly, his "Americanization" of the Exodus story. As he queries in his opening introduction, "Are men the property of the state?" "Or are they free souls under God?" This, he says, is the theme of the movie. He and the writers have, essentially, refocused the exodus story. Here, it is not so much about God delivering his chosen people from bondage, foreshadowing the spiritual liberation Christ would later bring about, but rather it shows the conflict between Moses and Pharaoh as one between a dictator and his enslaved people. In 1950's America, with cold war hysteria at a fever pitch, the parallels between this and America's fight against international communism must have been obvious.
There's a subplot involving the romance between the stone-cutter and later the lieutenant of Moses, Joshua (John Derek) and Lilia (Debra Paget). Their love for each other is thwarted by the cowardly Egyptian collaborator Dathan (Edward G. Robinson) and the overseer Baka, both of whom lust for Lilia themselves. Joshua is saved from death by Moses when he is caught trying to save Lilia from Baka's advances. When Dathan witnesses this, he informs Rameses, who has Moses arrested and awards Dathan with the Governership of Goshen. Dathan uses his new found power to pressure Lilia into becoming his mistress, threatening to have Joshua executed if she refuses. When the Hebrews are freed from bondage, Dathan is forced to go with them as Joshua has placed the blood of a lamb on his door to protect Lilia from the angel's wrath. Dathan plots to turn the Hebrews against Moses and persuade them to return to Egypt. It is he who pressures Aaron to make the golden calf while Moses is on Mount Horeb, hoping to present it to Rameses as a gift. He also wants to sacrifice Lilia to the calf. In this way DeMille connects the giving of the Ten Commandments with plot threads from earlier in the film. Otherwise it would feel out of place after so much focus on the conflict between Moses and Rameses.
DeMille's direction is fairly restrained, using close-ups and camera movement very sparingly. He was an old school director and his visual style, preferring sweeping vistas and painterly wide shots to more intimate closeups, evolved little since his early silent pictures. This style is complemented by the films vibrant production design. From the ostentatious garb of the Pharoah and the royal family to the exotic clothing of the Ethiopians who come to pay tribute to Ceaser, the wardrobe department really outdid themselves for this film. Similarly the sets are magnificent, bringing Ancient Egypt to life. The groundbreaking special effects add to the film's visual power. Some of the blue screen effects no longer hold up but the nine plagues are wonderfully realized, especially the Nile turning to blood. The film's centerpiece, the parting of the Red Sea, is absolutely breathtaking. Combining actual footage of the Red Sea with special effects shots done on the Paramount backlot, the sequence is considered the most difficult special effects ever done up to that point. Elmer Bernstien's bombastic score is not one of his best but its quite good none-the-less and certainly fits the over-the-top nature of the material.
The performances, like Demille's direction, are decidedly old school and would feel right at home in a silent film. Charlton Heston, who reminded DeMille of Michelangelo's statue of Moses, was born to play the part. His commanding voice and physical presence are brought to full bear to bring the patriarch to life. Early on, his character is not unlike those he would later play in films like Ben-Hur and El Cid, a just, honorable man in a corrupt and unjust world. After receiving the vision of God in the desert he changes, both physically and emotionally. Aging many years and growing a long grey beard, he is the Sunday school image of Moses brought to life. His personality too becomes unbending, as he takes up God's call with a fiery determination. Yul Brynner's Rameses is more subdued. Cold, calculating and absolutely sure of himself at the beginning of the film, we slowly watch the man break as his world crumbles around him. Brynner and Heston have great chemistry together and the two character's disdain for each other bleeds off the screen. Anne Baxter is also perfectly cast as the shrewd, manipulative Nefretiri. Caught between two acting legends she holds her own as the woman who seems to inadvertently bring about God's vengeance on Egypt.
The supporting cast is equally strong. Sir Cedric Hardwicke brings a tragic quality to Sethi, the Pharaoh who sees his house torn asunder. Nina Foch as Bithiah, the women whose compassion and genuine desire for a child starts Moses on his path, is quite good, bringing a vulnerability and also a quiet dignity to the role. Judith Anderson's Memnet, on the other hand, is filled with bitterness and spite, she can't stand the fact that a slave like her might ascend the throne of Egypt. Martha Scott is heartrending as Yoshebel, the mother who gives up her son out of love for him. Edward G. Robinson and Vincent Price are their usual slimy, despicable selves as Baka and Dathan. Yvonne De Carlo brings a quiet contrast to Baxter's over-the-top performance, winning Moses heart through her sense of self worth and dutifully following along once he sets out on his holy quest. John Derek brings an almost swashbuckling quality to Joshua, the brash, rebellious Hebrew slave who becomes Moses friend and follower. Debra Paget's Lillia and John Carrdine's Aaron are somewhat lost among all the other characters, but that's to be expected in a huge epic like this.
The film is not without its flaws. The Sunday school nature of the proceedings clashes with DeMille's predilection for lust and pageantry. The film almost revels in Ramese's and Nefretiri's spiral of destruction. This, in some ways, is reflected of the contradictions present in Cecile B. DeMille's own life, deeply religious but worldly and adulterous. This may have been alleviated if some of the more pure female characters, like Yoshebel and Sephora, had more prominent roles. As I said before, not all of the special effects hold up. Even compared with other films of the period, the blue screen is often badly composited and animated effects for the pillar of fire and the burning bush are quite fake looking, though in some ways this adds to the storybook quality of the film.
Despite these flaws (or perhaps, in part, because of them) The Ten Commandments remains an vital piece of film history, the ultimate biblical epic.
Score: 9/10
The Ten Commandments is so ingrained in the American pop culture consciousness that reviewing it is almost a futile exercise at this point. But, having set out to review religious films every lent, I knew I'd have to tackle it sooner or later. Most of my readers are probably already familiar with Heston and Brynner's larger-then-life portrayal of Moses and Rameses, with DeMille's penchant for pageantry and spectacle and with the film's questionable fidelity to biblical and historical texts. Of course, almost everyone knows the basic story. The baby Moses is hidden in the Nile to escape the wrath of Pharaoh but is found by the monarch's daughter who raises him as her own son. After learning of his true heritage Moses is forced to flee Egypt when he kills the overseer. In the desert he encounters God, speaking through the burning bush, who tells him to return and free his people from bondage. Moses and his brother Aaron confront Pharaoh, there are nine plagues, and eventually Pharaoh allows the Israelites to leave Egypt.
DeMille's film focuses on three characters: Moses, his cousin Rameses (Yul Brynner) and the Egytptian princess, Nefretiri (Anne Baxter). Moses and Nefretiri are in love with each other, but Rameses wants both the Princess and the throne of Egypt and he sees Moses as a rival. Rameses father, Sethi (Sir Cedric Hardwicke) favors Moses for the throne, as he is the more level headed and fair minded of the two men. This is displayed in the movie by contrasting the strategies Moses and Rameses use to build Sethi's great city. In order to thwart Moses, Rameses persuades Sethi to have his cousin oversee the building of a new city in honor of the Pharaoh's jubilee, a task that Rameses has struggled with due to the intractability of the Hebrew slaves. But Moses succeeds where Rameses failed by treating the slaves with dignity (as much as that's possible for a slave) and winning their respect.
Despite this, Moses is doomed to fail. When his mother's servant, Memnet (Judith Anderson), attempts to reveal his true origins as a Hebrew slave, Nefretiri kills her to silence her. When Moses finds out he rejects his Egyptian upbringing and joins his Hebrew brothers as a slave, though he does not reveal his true identity to them. His true identity is eventually found out by Rameses when Moses kills the overseer, Baka (Vincent Price), to save Joshua (John Derek), a Hebrew stone-cutter, from death. Sethi, on learning of his sister's long deception and of Moses true origin, asks him if he is their promised deliverer. Claiming that he would deliver them from bondage if he had the power, Moses is banished from Egypt and Rameses becomes the new Pharoah.
While Moses and Rameses are placed in contrast as examples of good and bad leadership, Nefretiri is caught between the two men. Her desire for Moses is slowly revealed to be an unhealthy one. First, when she kills Memnet to keep her from revealing Moses origin, thereby keeping him off the throne and out of her reach, we see how far she is willing to go to keep Moses by her side. When Moses returns from the desert with a newfound faith and devotion to God he rejects her. This turns her love for him into spite and she manipulates Rameses, now her husband, into rejecting Moses request to let his people go. Even then, however, she still hopes that Moses holds a place in his heart for her, refusing to believe that her son will die as Moses warns. When he is killed by the angel of God on the night of Passover, her feelings toward Moses turn to bitterness and hatred. When Rameses relents and lets the Hebrews go she once again "hardens his heart" persuading him to pursue them with his chariots.
This idea, that God uses Nefretiri to harden the heart of Pharoah, is one of The Ten Commandments more novel interpretations of the scriptural story. Quoting (or rather paraphrasing) scripture the narration announces that "again, pharaoh's, heart was hardened" right before she convinces him to take his chariots and pursue the Israelites. DeMille takes many liberties with scripture, chiefly, his "Americanization" of the Exodus story. As he queries in his opening introduction, "Are men the property of the state?" "Or are they free souls under God?" This, he says, is the theme of the movie. He and the writers have, essentially, refocused the exodus story. Here, it is not so much about God delivering his chosen people from bondage, foreshadowing the spiritual liberation Christ would later bring about, but rather it shows the conflict between Moses and Pharaoh as one between a dictator and his enslaved people. In 1950's America, with cold war hysteria at a fever pitch, the parallels between this and America's fight against international communism must have been obvious.
There's a subplot involving the romance between the stone-cutter and later the lieutenant of Moses, Joshua (John Derek) and Lilia (Debra Paget). Their love for each other is thwarted by the cowardly Egyptian collaborator Dathan (Edward G. Robinson) and the overseer Baka, both of whom lust for Lilia themselves. Joshua is saved from death by Moses when he is caught trying to save Lilia from Baka's advances. When Dathan witnesses this, he informs Rameses, who has Moses arrested and awards Dathan with the Governership of Goshen. Dathan uses his new found power to pressure Lilia into becoming his mistress, threatening to have Joshua executed if she refuses. When the Hebrews are freed from bondage, Dathan is forced to go with them as Joshua has placed the blood of a lamb on his door to protect Lilia from the angel's wrath. Dathan plots to turn the Hebrews against Moses and persuade them to return to Egypt. It is he who pressures Aaron to make the golden calf while Moses is on Mount Horeb, hoping to present it to Rameses as a gift. He also wants to sacrifice Lilia to the calf. In this way DeMille connects the giving of the Ten Commandments with plot threads from earlier in the film. Otherwise it would feel out of place after so much focus on the conflict between Moses and Rameses.
DeMille's direction is fairly restrained, using close-ups and camera movement very sparingly. He was an old school director and his visual style, preferring sweeping vistas and painterly wide shots to more intimate closeups, evolved little since his early silent pictures. This style is complemented by the films vibrant production design. From the ostentatious garb of the Pharoah and the royal family to the exotic clothing of the Ethiopians who come to pay tribute to Ceaser, the wardrobe department really outdid themselves for this film. Similarly the sets are magnificent, bringing Ancient Egypt to life. The groundbreaking special effects add to the film's visual power. Some of the blue screen effects no longer hold up but the nine plagues are wonderfully realized, especially the Nile turning to blood. The film's centerpiece, the parting of the Red Sea, is absolutely breathtaking. Combining actual footage of the Red Sea with special effects shots done on the Paramount backlot, the sequence is considered the most difficult special effects ever done up to that point. Elmer Bernstien's bombastic score is not one of his best but its quite good none-the-less and certainly fits the over-the-top nature of the material.
The performances, like Demille's direction, are decidedly old school and would feel right at home in a silent film. Charlton Heston, who reminded DeMille of Michelangelo's statue of Moses, was born to play the part. His commanding voice and physical presence are brought to full bear to bring the patriarch to life. Early on, his character is not unlike those he would later play in films like Ben-Hur and El Cid, a just, honorable man in a corrupt and unjust world. After receiving the vision of God in the desert he changes, both physically and emotionally. Aging many years and growing a long grey beard, he is the Sunday school image of Moses brought to life. His personality too becomes unbending, as he takes up God's call with a fiery determination. Yul Brynner's Rameses is more subdued. Cold, calculating and absolutely sure of himself at the beginning of the film, we slowly watch the man break as his world crumbles around him. Brynner and Heston have great chemistry together and the two character's disdain for each other bleeds off the screen. Anne Baxter is also perfectly cast as the shrewd, manipulative Nefretiri. Caught between two acting legends she holds her own as the woman who seems to inadvertently bring about God's vengeance on Egypt.
The supporting cast is equally strong. Sir Cedric Hardwicke brings a tragic quality to Sethi, the Pharaoh who sees his house torn asunder. Nina Foch as Bithiah, the women whose compassion and genuine desire for a child starts Moses on his path, is quite good, bringing a vulnerability and also a quiet dignity to the role. Judith Anderson's Memnet, on the other hand, is filled with bitterness and spite, she can't stand the fact that a slave like her might ascend the throne of Egypt. Martha Scott is heartrending as Yoshebel, the mother who gives up her son out of love for him. Edward G. Robinson and Vincent Price are their usual slimy, despicable selves as Baka and Dathan. Yvonne De Carlo brings a quiet contrast to Baxter's over-the-top performance, winning Moses heart through her sense of self worth and dutifully following along once he sets out on his holy quest. John Derek brings an almost swashbuckling quality to Joshua, the brash, rebellious Hebrew slave who becomes Moses friend and follower. Debra Paget's Lillia and John Carrdine's Aaron are somewhat lost among all the other characters, but that's to be expected in a huge epic like this.
The film is not without its flaws. The Sunday school nature of the proceedings clashes with DeMille's predilection for lust and pageantry. The film almost revels in Ramese's and Nefretiri's spiral of destruction. This, in some ways, is reflected of the contradictions present in Cecile B. DeMille's own life, deeply religious but worldly and adulterous. This may have been alleviated if some of the more pure female characters, like Yoshebel and Sephora, had more prominent roles. As I said before, not all of the special effects hold up. Even compared with other films of the period, the blue screen is often badly composited and animated effects for the pillar of fire and the burning bush are quite fake looking, though in some ways this adds to the storybook quality of the film.
Despite these flaws (or perhaps, in part, because of them) The Ten Commandments remains an vital piece of film history, the ultimate biblical epic.
Score: 9/10
Sunday, March 11, 2018
Lent Reviews Week 3: Babette's Feast (1987)
Babette's Feast is a Danish film released in 1987. It is written and directed by Gabriel Axel and based on a story by Karen Blixen. It takes place in a small 19th century Danish village where two pious puritan sister's take on a French refugee named Babette as a servant. Fourteen years later, when Babette wins the lottery, for which she yearly buys a ticket as a link to her former life, she decides to use her winnings to cook a "real French meal" for the poor villagers, much to their consternation.
Babette's Feast plays out, at times, more like a novel then a traditional film. The first half deals with the sisters' courtship by two men. Martina (Vibeke Hastrup)is pursued by Lorens Löwenhielm (Gudmar Wivesson), a young Swedish cavalry officer while Phillipa (Hanne Stensgaard) is courted by Achille Papin (Jean-Philippe Lafont), a star baritone for the Paris opera. Both men are heartbroken when the sisters ultimately turn them down. The second half of the film chronicles the sisters' (now played by Birgitte Federspiel and Bodil Kjer) later life, when they take on Babette (Stéphane Audran), a refuge from the 1871 Paris revolt sent to them by Monsiuer Papin. Babette proves a diligent worker and grateful companion to the two sisters. When she wins the lottery they are saddened, assuming that she intends to leave them and return to Paris. They think the feast she proposes to prepare for them is a going away present.
Life in the village is incredibly simple. They eat, dress and live modestly in accordance with their faith. By the time that Babette has proposed her meal to the two sisters, however, many of the villagers have become bitter, engaging in petty quarrels with one another. Nevertheless, Babette's feast scandalizes them, as they see it as a sin of sensual pleasure if not as some sort of satanic Witch's Sabbath. They agree to take no pleasure in the meal and to make no comment on it. This feast ends up coinciding with a visit from Löwenhielm, now a general and a member of the royal court, who is returning to the village to prove to himself whether or not the life he could have had with Martine would have been better then the one he pursued. He is delighted by the meal and, eventually, the villagers are won over as well. The sisters prepare to say goodbye to Babette but she tells them that she spent her lottery winnings on the feast and will not be returning to Paris.
Babette's Feast plays out, at times, more like a novel then a traditional film. The first half deals with the sisters' courtship by two men. Martina (Vibeke Hastrup)is pursued by Lorens Löwenhielm (Gudmar Wivesson), a young Swedish cavalry officer while Phillipa (Hanne Stensgaard) is courted by Achille Papin (Jean-Philippe Lafont), a star baritone for the Paris opera. Both men are heartbroken when the sisters ultimately turn them down. The second half of the film chronicles the sisters' (now played by Birgitte Federspiel and Bodil Kjer) later life, when they take on Babette (Stéphane Audran), a refuge from the 1871 Paris revolt sent to them by Monsiuer Papin. Babette proves a diligent worker and grateful companion to the two sisters. When she wins the lottery they are saddened, assuming that she intends to leave them and return to Paris. They think the feast she proposes to prepare for them is a going away present.
Life in the village is incredibly simple. They eat, dress and live modestly in accordance with their faith. By the time that Babette has proposed her meal to the two sisters, however, many of the villagers have become bitter, engaging in petty quarrels with one another. Nevertheless, Babette's feast scandalizes them, as they see it as a sin of sensual pleasure if not as some sort of satanic Witch's Sabbath. They agree to take no pleasure in the meal and to make no comment on it. This feast ends up coinciding with a visit from Löwenhielm, now a general and a member of the royal court, who is returning to the village to prove to himself whether or not the life he could have had with Martine would have been better then the one he pursued. He is delighted by the meal and, eventually, the villagers are won over as well. The sisters prepare to say goodbye to Babette but she tells them that she spent her lottery winnings on the feast and will not be returning to Paris.
Pope Francis has called Babette's Feast his favorite film. It's not hard to see why. It's a simply wonderful film, commenting on the role of sacrifice and of joy in life. The people of the village take their austerity to an extreme. Because of this many of them end up bitter and full of regret. The feast brings them back together, initially uniting them against it but eventually bringing them together in the joy they take from Babette's freely given gift of love. Babette herself feels no sense of loss for the austere life she has spent with the two sisters. Rather, she is compelled to forsake her old life once and for all and uses all the money she won to cook this meal in gratitude for their charity to her. The sisters, who gave up a life of marriage to remain in the village and serve as religious leaders to its people, both find that Babette has rekindled something in themselves they thought long lost. General Löwenhielm, the only one able to appreciate the feast from a sophisticated culinary palate, finds that his own regretfulness about losing Martine has disappeared. "Everything we have chose has been granted to us" he says, "And everything we rejected has also been granted." The real message of the film is that there's room in life for great joy and great austerity, and the mistakes of the past matter little when measured against the potential bliss offered in the everlasting here-and-now of eternity.
Gabriel Axel directs the film with a graceful hand. Its measured pacing invites reflection and contributes to the film's wonderfully subtle sense of humor. Often a scene will linger a little longer so that a joke or a humorous moment can make an impression. Henning Kristiansen's elegant cinematography contrasts the pomp of Lorens' military life and extravagance of Papin's life as an opera star to the stark simplicity of life in the village. The actors all do an excellent job, speaking volumes through their facial expressions, which is vital in a film with so little dialogue. Per Nørgård's score, which is sparingly used, is beautifully elegant, imbuing the film with a peaceful, pastoral flavor and, at times, a sense of whimsy.
Babette's Feast is a transcendent film. Evoking the desire in every man both to give from the heart and to receive gratefully, it is abundantly appropriate viewing for Lent and Easter season.
Score: 10/10
Sunday, March 4, 2018
Lent Reviews Week 2: Of Gods and Men (2010)
Of Gods and Men was released on December 8th, 2010. It is directed by Xavier Beauvois and written by Beauvois and Étienne Comar. Based on a true story, it centers around a group of nine Trappist monks living in the abbey of Tibhirine in Algeria during the Algerian Civil War.
Of Gods and Men is, largely, a tale of Catholic monks living in peace with their Muslim neighbors. Throughout the film we see the monks interact with the Muslim population around them. Brother Luc, who is a doctor, provides medical care for the townsfolk and chats amiably with a young girl about falling in love. The monks are seen meeting with Muslims during a prayer meeting. These are monks not interested in preaching, but in giving silent witness to those around them. To inspire others through their lives of Christ-like service.
The film slowly builds up an element of danger, as we hear of the Muslim fundamentalists committing acts of violence around the monastery. The Algerian Government offers the brothers military protection but their leader, Christian (Lambert Wilson), turns them down. This comes to a head in a pivotal moment, when a group of the terrorists enter the monastery looking for medical assistance. Christian refuses, as Luc is too old and feeble to leave the compound and there medical supplies are too scarce. He quotes the Quran to their leader, Fayattia, and tells him that this night is special for the monks, as it is Christmas Eve, the night when they "celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace". Fayattia respects Christian's conviction and leaves with his men. The brothers must then decide whether to stay and risk being killed or leave, abandoning the people they serve and the community life that means so much to them. Many of the monks struggle with this decision but, in the end, they all agree to stay. Eventually, Fayattia is killed, and the monks are left without his protection. They are captured by the terrorists one night and never heard from again. Only Father Amedee and Father Jean-Pierre survive, having hid beneath their bunks.
Of Gods and Men paints a powerful picture of Catholic witness and the spirit of ecumenism. The monks of Tibhirine feel compelled to stay at the abbey and fulfill their chosen vocation despite the dangers of war raging around them. Dom Christian is a source of strength for the others, reminding them of their call but allowing them to choose for themselves whether they should go or stay. He leaves a testament behind (an abridged version of the real life one) telling anyone who may find it that he did not desire death, but accepted it, nonetheless, out of love for Christ. "I would like my community, my church and my family to remember that my life was given to God and to this country." He also expresses his hope that this will not reflect badly on Muslims or on the people of Algeria. "I know the contempt the people of this country may have indiscriminately been surrounded by. And I know which caricatures of Islam a certain Islamism encourages." He finishes by forgiving and even thanking his captors, "And may we meet again, happy thieves in paradise, if it pleases God, the Father of us both. Amen! Inch'Allah!"
Xavier Beauvois' direction is incredibly restrained and the stark cinematography by Caroline Champetier adds to the film's sense of austerity and realism. Further contributing to this is the fact that the film has no real musical score outside of the monks chanting. The only exception to this is one scene of artistic bravura that I'm not sure completely fits with the rest of the film. The performances too are very naturalistic. The actors went through a month of training in Gregorian chant and spent a week in the Abbey of Tamié. Lambert Wilson, who plays Dom Christian, studied the monks writings to better acquaint himself with the man's personality.
Of God's and Men is a powerful film which, despite it's dark subject matter, is actually quite uplifting. I would strongly recommend it, both to pious Christian viewers and to those of other faiths.
Score: 9/10
Of Gods and Men is, largely, a tale of Catholic monks living in peace with their Muslim neighbors. Throughout the film we see the monks interact with the Muslim population around them. Brother Luc, who is a doctor, provides medical care for the townsfolk and chats amiably with a young girl about falling in love. The monks are seen meeting with Muslims during a prayer meeting. These are monks not interested in preaching, but in giving silent witness to those around them. To inspire others through their lives of Christ-like service.
The film slowly builds up an element of danger, as we hear of the Muslim fundamentalists committing acts of violence around the monastery. The Algerian Government offers the brothers military protection but their leader, Christian (Lambert Wilson), turns them down. This comes to a head in a pivotal moment, when a group of the terrorists enter the monastery looking for medical assistance. Christian refuses, as Luc is too old and feeble to leave the compound and there medical supplies are too scarce. He quotes the Quran to their leader, Fayattia, and tells him that this night is special for the monks, as it is Christmas Eve, the night when they "celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace". Fayattia respects Christian's conviction and leaves with his men. The brothers must then decide whether to stay and risk being killed or leave, abandoning the people they serve and the community life that means so much to them. Many of the monks struggle with this decision but, in the end, they all agree to stay. Eventually, Fayattia is killed, and the monks are left without his protection. They are captured by the terrorists one night and never heard from again. Only Father Amedee and Father Jean-Pierre survive, having hid beneath their bunks.
Of Gods and Men paints a powerful picture of Catholic witness and the spirit of ecumenism. The monks of Tibhirine feel compelled to stay at the abbey and fulfill their chosen vocation despite the dangers of war raging around them. Dom Christian is a source of strength for the others, reminding them of their call but allowing them to choose for themselves whether they should go or stay. He leaves a testament behind (an abridged version of the real life one) telling anyone who may find it that he did not desire death, but accepted it, nonetheless, out of love for Christ. "I would like my community, my church and my family to remember that my life was given to God and to this country." He also expresses his hope that this will not reflect badly on Muslims or on the people of Algeria. "I know the contempt the people of this country may have indiscriminately been surrounded by. And I know which caricatures of Islam a certain Islamism encourages." He finishes by forgiving and even thanking his captors, "And may we meet again, happy thieves in paradise, if it pleases God, the Father of us both. Amen! Inch'Allah!"
Xavier Beauvois' direction is incredibly restrained and the stark cinematography by Caroline Champetier adds to the film's sense of austerity and realism. Further contributing to this is the fact that the film has no real musical score outside of the monks chanting. The only exception to this is one scene of artistic bravura that I'm not sure completely fits with the rest of the film. The performances too are very naturalistic. The actors went through a month of training in Gregorian chant and spent a week in the Abbey of Tamié. Lambert Wilson, who plays Dom Christian, studied the monks writings to better acquaint himself with the man's personality.
Of God's and Men is a powerful film which, despite it's dark subject matter, is actually quite uplifting. I would strongly recommend it, both to pious Christian viewers and to those of other faiths.
Score: 9/10
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