The Cat Returns was releases in on July 20th, 2002. It is directed by Hiroyuki Morita and written by Reiko Yoshida from an original concept by Hayao Miyazaki. It tells the story of Haru Yoshioka (Anne Hathaway), a quiet, shy teenage girl who becomes engaged to Prince Lune (Andrew Bevis) of the magical Cat Kingdom, after saving him from being run over by a car.
This film is a about a young girl who gets swept up in a magical world, meets a dashing young prince, and becomes a kind of hero in the process. If this sounds familiar its because The Cat Returns, maybe more then any film I've seen aside from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, evokes old fairy tales and children's fantasy stories. The Brothers Grimm, E. T. A. Hoffmann, Lewis Carrol, Frank Baum, P.L. Travers, this film recalls the works of all these authors in one way or another. What impressed me the most was its portrayal of the fantastical elements of the world. The Cat Kingdom feels like a natural part of this world, one lying right on the periphery of human perception. Consequently, and in the tradition of great fairy tales, the line between fantasy and reality is often blurred.
The main thrust of the story is Haru's gaining of confidence in herself (yet another pervasive fantasy trope). At the beginning of the film we see that she is ridiculed by her classmates after arriving late for school. When she saves Prince Lune and the Cat King (Tim Curry) offers her a place in his kingdom she is, at first, tempted to say yes, as it would be an escape from her troubles. This changes, of course, when she learns that she must also marry the prince. Obeying instructions from a mysterious voice, Haru goes to the Cat Bureau, where she meets The Baron (Cary Elwes) a cat figurine brought to life by the his creator. The Baron agrees to help her get out of the marriage, but the King's agents arrive at the bureau and carry her away. In the end, she stands up to the king herself, finally showing some initiative. Her experiences have taught her to take responsibility for her actions.
The animation is wonderful, as one would expect from a Studio Ghibli film. It may not be as breathtaking as Spirited Away or Princess Mononoke and the character are much more "cartoonish" and simplistic then most of Ghibli's output but, in many ways, that fits the story their telling. This is a lighthearted faerie story, not an epic. The animators do a good job making the world of the film (both the real world and the Cat Kingdom) alive and populated. The way the characters move is particularly striking. Some standout scenes include a chase scene, where Haru is carried of by a large group of cats and pursued by the Baron and Toto, and a scene later on where Haru, the Baron and Muta descend from the sky on a flock of crows, summoned by Toto, who act as a staircase.
The cast (I saw the english dub) all do a good job. Anne Hathaway displays the right mixture of awkwardness and pluck as Haru. Cary Elwes is perfectly cast as the swashbuckling Baron Humbert von Gikkingen (a character originally conceived in Whisper of the Heart). Peter Boyle is a hoot as the lazy, overweight but ultimately heroic Muta. Tim Curry is absolutely despicable as the Cat King. Morita's direction is also impressive, as he slowly introduces the fantasy elements, making them feel more natural and earned, and gradually increases the sense of danger for Haru giving the film a lighter, less menacing tone then many of its counterparts.
The Cat Returns may not be as stunning a piece of animation as many of its Studio Ghibli counterparts but it more then makes up for it with its sheer whimsy, imagination, and sense of adventure.
Score: 9/10
Saturday, May 5, 2018
Wednesday, May 2, 2018
Western Wednesdays: Broken Arrow (1950)
Not to be confused with the John Woo film from the 1990's, Broken Arrow was released on July 21st, 1950. It is directed by Delmer Daves and with a screenplay by Albert Maltz (under the pseudonym Micheal Blankfort) from the novel Blood Brother by Elliott Arnold. It tells the true story of Tom Jeffords (James Stewart) an Indian agent who helped to secure the peace treaty with Cochise (Jeff Chandler).
In many ways Broken Arrow anticipates Kevin Costner's Dances With Wolves. Both films feature largely positive portrayals of Native Americans and a more condemnatory view of our country's treatment of Native Americans. Both also focus on a white man who intermarries into a native tribe. This film was way ahead of its time. Many westerns of the 40's and 50s portray white/native relations in a critical way, but none, at least that I've seen, take it quite this far. Near the end of the film Jeffords' wife is killed by hateful white men, and this nearly breaks him. He is ready to pursue vengeance against these men and throw away the peace he has built with Cochise and it's Cochise himself who restrains Jeffords and saves the treaty.
Like most westerns, Broken Arrow takes some liberties with history. The biggest is the romance between Jeffords and Sonseeahray (Debra Paget), which is a complete fabrication. The real Jeffords was never married, much less to an Apache bride, and the marriage ceremony shown in the film is not an authentic Apache one. Besides this, however, the film is surprisingly historically accurate. Tom Jeffords really did befriend Cochise and help to forge the treaty which was overseen by General Oliver Howard also known as "the Christian General" (played in the film by Basil Ruysdael).
In general, the romance is the weakest part of the film. It feels rushed as the two characters simply don't have enough time to believably fall in love. With that said, director Delmer Daves does a good job with the scenes between Jeffords and Sonseeahray. Daves is a skilled director and makes good use of tracking shots and interesting framing throughout the film. The cinematography by Ernest Palmer, is not the best. The lighting is a little bland and the bright technicolor look does not suit the dark, violent nature of the narrative.
For a film made in 1950, Broken Arrow is unexpectedly dark and violent. The film opens with Jeffords nursing a wounded young Apache back to life, only to be captured by his fellow tribesman. They let him go free but only after slaughtering a group of prospectors. Jeffords watches, bound and gagged, as the survivors are tied up and covered in syrup, so that ants can feast on their flesh. This kind of dark violence helps to give the film's message more weight. In the face of this kind of violence, Jeffords and Cochise's efforts toward peace is all the more admirable.
Of the cast, Stewart and Chandler are clearly in command. They relationship between Jeffords and Cochise is easily the best part of the film, and a lot of that comes down to the performances. Stewart brings his usual mix of lovably affable and darkly short-tempered to Tom Jeffords. This is a man who could help to forge a peace with a desperate, warlike tribe but also one who reacts with violent outbursts when insulted or attacked. Chandler's Cochise is every bit the noble leader. His leadership of the Apaches is guided by prudence. He tells the elders of his tribe, "If a big wind comes, a tree must bend or be lifted out by its roots." At the same time he seems genuinely human, possessing a keen sense of humor and an obvious affection for those closest to him. As he and Jeffords grow in respect for each other, so do we as an audience.
Broken Arrow broke (no pun intended) new ground for the portrayal of Native Americans on film. A western more grounded in historical fact then most, it also features solid direction from Delmer Daves and stellar performances from its two leads. For genre fans, it's indispensable.
Score: 8/10
In many ways Broken Arrow anticipates Kevin Costner's Dances With Wolves. Both films feature largely positive portrayals of Native Americans and a more condemnatory view of our country's treatment of Native Americans. Both also focus on a white man who intermarries into a native tribe. This film was way ahead of its time. Many westerns of the 40's and 50s portray white/native relations in a critical way, but none, at least that I've seen, take it quite this far. Near the end of the film Jeffords' wife is killed by hateful white men, and this nearly breaks him. He is ready to pursue vengeance against these men and throw away the peace he has built with Cochise and it's Cochise himself who restrains Jeffords and saves the treaty.
Like most westerns, Broken Arrow takes some liberties with history. The biggest is the romance between Jeffords and Sonseeahray (Debra Paget), which is a complete fabrication. The real Jeffords was never married, much less to an Apache bride, and the marriage ceremony shown in the film is not an authentic Apache one. Besides this, however, the film is surprisingly historically accurate. Tom Jeffords really did befriend Cochise and help to forge the treaty which was overseen by General Oliver Howard also known as "the Christian General" (played in the film by Basil Ruysdael).
In general, the romance is the weakest part of the film. It feels rushed as the two characters simply don't have enough time to believably fall in love. With that said, director Delmer Daves does a good job with the scenes between Jeffords and Sonseeahray. Daves is a skilled director and makes good use of tracking shots and interesting framing throughout the film. The cinematography by Ernest Palmer, is not the best. The lighting is a little bland and the bright technicolor look does not suit the dark, violent nature of the narrative.
For a film made in 1950, Broken Arrow is unexpectedly dark and violent. The film opens with Jeffords nursing a wounded young Apache back to life, only to be captured by his fellow tribesman. They let him go free but only after slaughtering a group of prospectors. Jeffords watches, bound and gagged, as the survivors are tied up and covered in syrup, so that ants can feast on their flesh. This kind of dark violence helps to give the film's message more weight. In the face of this kind of violence, Jeffords and Cochise's efforts toward peace is all the more admirable.
Of the cast, Stewart and Chandler are clearly in command. They relationship between Jeffords and Cochise is easily the best part of the film, and a lot of that comes down to the performances. Stewart brings his usual mix of lovably affable and darkly short-tempered to Tom Jeffords. This is a man who could help to forge a peace with a desperate, warlike tribe but also one who reacts with violent outbursts when insulted or attacked. Chandler's Cochise is every bit the noble leader. His leadership of the Apaches is guided by prudence. He tells the elders of his tribe, "If a big wind comes, a tree must bend or be lifted out by its roots." At the same time he seems genuinely human, possessing a keen sense of humor and an obvious affection for those closest to him. As he and Jeffords grow in respect for each other, so do we as an audience.
Broken Arrow broke (no pun intended) new ground for the portrayal of Native Americans on film. A western more grounded in historical fact then most, it also features solid direction from Delmer Daves and stellar performances from its two leads. For genre fans, it's indispensable.
Score: 8/10
Monday, April 30, 2018
Musical Mondays: Labyrinth (1986)
Labyrinth was released on June 27th, 1986. Directed by Jim Henson and written by Terry Jones, the film was a box office failure upon its initial release, but has since attained a cult following and reemerged as an underrated classic. Recently re-released in theaters for a limited three day run by Fathom Events, I was able too view Labyrinth for the first time on the big screen.
The film has a somewhat messy production history. Drawing inspiration form The Wizard of Oz and Maurice Sendak, Jim Henson and Brian Froud originally conceived the film shortly after completing The Dark Crystal as a more lighthearted counterpart to that film's Tolkien-esque, world-building quest. Terry Jones, of Monty Python fame, was brought on to write a script based on Henson and Froud's ideas. The casting of David Bowie as the Goblin King, however, proved somewhat problematic, as the actor felt that the story needed more humor and Jim Henson decided that the film should feature musical numbers in order to take advantage of Bowie's peculiar talents. Consequently, Jones script would go through edits from Henson, Laura Phillips, Elaine May and the film's producer, George Lucas. The resulting film, while far from perfect, is a ton of fun.
The main plot centers around Sarah (Jennifer Connelly) a fifteen year old girl who has an unhealthy obsession with fantasy and fairy-tales. The film opens with her arriving home late to babysit her brother Toby on her parents date night because she lost track of time while reenacting a play called The Labyrinth in the park, a play from which she can never remember the last line. Sarah resents her parents for making her watch Toby, preferring to indulge in her fantasies and becomes even more frustrated when she finds him playing with her old teddy bear, Lancelot. She unwittingly wishes for goblins to come and kidnap him, like in her play. When this actually comes to pass she is visited by the Jareth, the goblin king (Bowie) who gives her 13 hours to navigate his labyrinth before Toby is turned into a goblin.
On her journey through the labyrinth Sarah meets Hoggle (voiced by Brian Henson and puppeteered by him and Shari Weiser), an irritable dwarf with a heart of gold; Ludo (voiced by Ron Mueck and puppeteered by him and Rob Mills), a large but kind-hearted beast; and Sir Didymus (voiced by David Shaughnessy and pupeteered by Dave Goelz and David Barclay), a Don Quixote-esque Fox-Terrier. Hoggle goes through something of a character arc, gradually becoming friends with Sarah over the course of the film and eventually saving her from as giant mechanical guard outside of the castle.
Sarah, like so many protagonists in fantasy stories, must come-of-age and leave her childhood fantasies behind. She must also learn to recognize and better manage her emerging sexual desires. At one point in the film, she is given a drugged peach which makes her forget about Toby. She falls into a trance and has a dream where she is seduced by Jareth at a masquerade ball, but she resists him and wakes up. She is then returned (seemingly) to her own room, where an old women tries to brainwash her, reminding her of all her possessions that distract her from Toby. She rejects this temptation, proclaiming that Toby is more important to her. Finally, on reaching the castle, she is confronted by Jareth, who tells her that the whole adventure has been for her benefit. It's everything she wanted. He offers to love her and to fulfill all her dreams if only she'll obey him. She resists him once again, remembering the line she forgot at the beginning of the film, "You have no power over me" which defeats him. Returning home, she gives Lancelot to Toby, having come to appreciate how important he is to her. The film ends with the characters from the labyrinth appearing in her room, suggesting that, while it's important not to get carried away with fantasy and imagination, it can be a positive and even necessary part of one's life.
The biggest problem with the film is that much of it, with Sarah wandering through the labyrinth, contributes little, if anything, to her character arc, instead coming across as a series of loosely connected adventures. This isn't a deal-breaker. Many beloved children's fantasy stories are very episodic in nature (Alice in Wonderland, The Wizard of Oz) and, while movies as a general rule are expected to be more streamlined I am not amiss to a more fragmented narrative. But this is a film with a clear character arc and it would have been better to carry that arc through the entire narrative, instead of just dealing with it in a few key scenes.
Then there's the music. While Trevor Jones instrumental score is quite good the musical numbers, written and performed by Bowie, are a more of mixed bag. "Underground", which serves as the films opening and closing theme, is suggestive of Sarah's confusion at the beginning of the film, of her desire to escape into the world of her childhood fantasies but also her emerging adolescent sexual desires. "Life can be easy; It's not always swell" "But down in the underground; You'll find someone true." It's well sung by Bowie, whose deep howling vocals contrasts the more upbeat instrumentals. It seems odd to play it at the end of the film however, when Sarah has finally reconciled her imaginative life with her everyday real-world existence. "Magic Dance" which is, I guess, the film's "villain song" is an incomprehensible mess. The lyrics make no sense, the song does nothing to advance the story nor does it reveal anything about the characters, the staging is lazy and the lip-syncing is pretty poor. The same can be said for "Chilly Down", sung by the Fireys as they attack Sarah, but at least in this case the song is supposed to be confusing and strange. "As the World Falls Down" is easily the best song in the film. Playing over Sarah's dream sequence, it has a seductive and dreamlike but also vaguely sinister quality that really complements the scene. "There's such a fooled heart, Beating so fast in search of new dreams." Finally, "Within You" plays over the films climax, bringing the contrast between Jareth's villainy and his seductive, Byronic qualities to the forefront. "Everything I've done, I've done for you." "Your eyes can be so cruel; Just as I can be so cruel; Though I do believe in you."
Visually, Labyrinth is one of the stunning looking films I've ever seen. The puppetry is absolutely jaw dropping. The expressiveness that Henson and co. are able to imbue in these characters is unequaled. Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus all look just as convincing, if not more so, as today's most painstakingly rendered CGI characters. It may not allow the same range of expression as motion-capture but the concrete, tactile feel of these puppets can never truly be replicated. Of course, a lot of credit has to go to the puppeteers, without whom these characters would be little more then impressive looking special effects. The sets too are a sight to behold and Henson wisely gives them a dirty, lived-in look that helps to make them feel more real. He also fills them with his puppets: door knockers that talk, plants with eyes that follow your movement, tiny creatures that move floor boards when your not looking. The world of Labyrinth is teeming with life. Some of the compositing hasn't aged well, particularly the blue screen effects in the scene with the Fireys but, overall, it's a really impressive achievement.
Labyrinth may not be a perfect film. It's narrative is a little messy and its themes can get lost in all the misadventures. Nevertheless, it spoke to a lot of kids who grew up with it and found its message about balancing imagination and reality and its themes about coming-of-age really powerful. I may not have grown up with it myself but, nevertheless, I can appreciate how important this film is to many people. Besides this, the film is something of a visual masterpiece, a landmark in movie puppetry that remains unequaled all these years later. It's also a really charming, fun adventure that can be appreciated even without aforementioned historical context. I highly recommend it to any fan of fantasy, fairy-tales, or creative film-making.
Score: 9/10
The film has a somewhat messy production history. Drawing inspiration form The Wizard of Oz and Maurice Sendak, Jim Henson and Brian Froud originally conceived the film shortly after completing The Dark Crystal as a more lighthearted counterpart to that film's Tolkien-esque, world-building quest. Terry Jones, of Monty Python fame, was brought on to write a script based on Henson and Froud's ideas. The casting of David Bowie as the Goblin King, however, proved somewhat problematic, as the actor felt that the story needed more humor and Jim Henson decided that the film should feature musical numbers in order to take advantage of Bowie's peculiar talents. Consequently, Jones script would go through edits from Henson, Laura Phillips, Elaine May and the film's producer, George Lucas. The resulting film, while far from perfect, is a ton of fun.
The main plot centers around Sarah (Jennifer Connelly) a fifteen year old girl who has an unhealthy obsession with fantasy and fairy-tales. The film opens with her arriving home late to babysit her brother Toby on her parents date night because she lost track of time while reenacting a play called The Labyrinth in the park, a play from which she can never remember the last line. Sarah resents her parents for making her watch Toby, preferring to indulge in her fantasies and becomes even more frustrated when she finds him playing with her old teddy bear, Lancelot. She unwittingly wishes for goblins to come and kidnap him, like in her play. When this actually comes to pass she is visited by the Jareth, the goblin king (Bowie) who gives her 13 hours to navigate his labyrinth before Toby is turned into a goblin.
On her journey through the labyrinth Sarah meets Hoggle (voiced by Brian Henson and puppeteered by him and Shari Weiser), an irritable dwarf with a heart of gold; Ludo (voiced by Ron Mueck and puppeteered by him and Rob Mills), a large but kind-hearted beast; and Sir Didymus (voiced by David Shaughnessy and pupeteered by Dave Goelz and David Barclay), a Don Quixote-esque Fox-Terrier. Hoggle goes through something of a character arc, gradually becoming friends with Sarah over the course of the film and eventually saving her from as giant mechanical guard outside of the castle.
Sarah, like so many protagonists in fantasy stories, must come-of-age and leave her childhood fantasies behind. She must also learn to recognize and better manage her emerging sexual desires. At one point in the film, she is given a drugged peach which makes her forget about Toby. She falls into a trance and has a dream where she is seduced by Jareth at a masquerade ball, but she resists him and wakes up. She is then returned (seemingly) to her own room, where an old women tries to brainwash her, reminding her of all her possessions that distract her from Toby. She rejects this temptation, proclaiming that Toby is more important to her. Finally, on reaching the castle, she is confronted by Jareth, who tells her that the whole adventure has been for her benefit. It's everything she wanted. He offers to love her and to fulfill all her dreams if only she'll obey him. She resists him once again, remembering the line she forgot at the beginning of the film, "You have no power over me" which defeats him. Returning home, she gives Lancelot to Toby, having come to appreciate how important he is to her. The film ends with the characters from the labyrinth appearing in her room, suggesting that, while it's important not to get carried away with fantasy and imagination, it can be a positive and even necessary part of one's life.
The biggest problem with the film is that much of it, with Sarah wandering through the labyrinth, contributes little, if anything, to her character arc, instead coming across as a series of loosely connected adventures. This isn't a deal-breaker. Many beloved children's fantasy stories are very episodic in nature (Alice in Wonderland, The Wizard of Oz) and, while movies as a general rule are expected to be more streamlined I am not amiss to a more fragmented narrative. But this is a film with a clear character arc and it would have been better to carry that arc through the entire narrative, instead of just dealing with it in a few key scenes.
Then there's the music. While Trevor Jones instrumental score is quite good the musical numbers, written and performed by Bowie, are a more of mixed bag. "Underground", which serves as the films opening and closing theme, is suggestive of Sarah's confusion at the beginning of the film, of her desire to escape into the world of her childhood fantasies but also her emerging adolescent sexual desires. "Life can be easy; It's not always swell" "But down in the underground; You'll find someone true." It's well sung by Bowie, whose deep howling vocals contrasts the more upbeat instrumentals. It seems odd to play it at the end of the film however, when Sarah has finally reconciled her imaginative life with her everyday real-world existence. "Magic Dance" which is, I guess, the film's "villain song" is an incomprehensible mess. The lyrics make no sense, the song does nothing to advance the story nor does it reveal anything about the characters, the staging is lazy and the lip-syncing is pretty poor. The same can be said for "Chilly Down", sung by the Fireys as they attack Sarah, but at least in this case the song is supposed to be confusing and strange. "As the World Falls Down" is easily the best song in the film. Playing over Sarah's dream sequence, it has a seductive and dreamlike but also vaguely sinister quality that really complements the scene. "There's such a fooled heart, Beating so fast in search of new dreams." Finally, "Within You" plays over the films climax, bringing the contrast between Jareth's villainy and his seductive, Byronic qualities to the forefront. "Everything I've done, I've done for you." "Your eyes can be so cruel; Just as I can be so cruel; Though I do believe in you."
Visually, Labyrinth is one of the stunning looking films I've ever seen. The puppetry is absolutely jaw dropping. The expressiveness that Henson and co. are able to imbue in these characters is unequaled. Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus all look just as convincing, if not more so, as today's most painstakingly rendered CGI characters. It may not allow the same range of expression as motion-capture but the concrete, tactile feel of these puppets can never truly be replicated. Of course, a lot of credit has to go to the puppeteers, without whom these characters would be little more then impressive looking special effects. The sets too are a sight to behold and Henson wisely gives them a dirty, lived-in look that helps to make them feel more real. He also fills them with his puppets: door knockers that talk, plants with eyes that follow your movement, tiny creatures that move floor boards when your not looking. The world of Labyrinth is teeming with life. Some of the compositing hasn't aged well, particularly the blue screen effects in the scene with the Fireys but, overall, it's a really impressive achievement.
Labyrinth may not be a perfect film. It's narrative is a little messy and its themes can get lost in all the misadventures. Nevertheless, it spoke to a lot of kids who grew up with it and found its message about balancing imagination and reality and its themes about coming-of-age really powerful. I may not have grown up with it myself but, nevertheless, I can appreciate how important this film is to many people. Besides this, the film is something of a visual masterpiece, a landmark in movie puppetry that remains unequaled all these years later. It's also a really charming, fun adventure that can be appreciated even without aforementioned historical context. I highly recommend it to any fan of fantasy, fairy-tales, or creative film-making.
Score: 9/10
Saturday, April 28, 2018
Blog Update: I'm Back!
Well, I'm done with student teaching for the time being, which means I now have more time to devote to writing! This means I will once again be trying to put out a Saturday Evening Cartoon post at least every other week. The same goes for Western Wednesdays and hopefully I'll continue my monthly Musical Monday reviews as well. I'm sure everyone still following this blog is just seething with excitement! :P
Sunday, April 22, 2018
A Quiet Place (2017) Short Review
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
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 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."
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| 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.
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| 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!
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