Friday, November 18, 2011

The Princess Bride

Stephanie and I watched this movie for the first time with our kids a little bit ago, and two things struck me. First (and this was not totally unexpected) was how much they laughed. Sometimes when you have watched and loved a movie for so long due to its adult wit, you can forget how many moments of simpler comedy are in a movie. Second, it really surprised me how much the story kept their interest. Herein lies, to me, the same genius in this movie that lies in many great movies.

The genius we find here is the ability of the film maker(s) to create something that is at once sophisticated and simple. The story of this movie is basic enough that any child can follow it. However, the dialogue and the humor are complex enough that we can all find ourselves returning to the film and gaining new laughs and appreciating the wittiness of the dialogue. I first saw this movie when it came out in the theater when I was 12, but I mainly got to know it through countless viewings on video. The fact that my High School church youth group nearly always watched this movie at camp gatherings further shows this movie's appeal. In my youth group (which was hundreds of students strong), it was always tricky to find a movie that is edgy and innocent. This movie fit the bill, and I have very clear memories of watching it at Camp Surf in San Diego on the beach near the US/Mexican border.

The movie is a story within a story. A young boy (Fred Savage) is sick, and his grandfather (the recently departed Peter Falk) comes to his house to read him a story while he is laid up. The story he reads to his grandson ends up being the principal plot of the movie, as we follow the adventures of Westley (Cary Elwes) and Buttercup (Robin Wright) as they attempt to find a way to live happily ever after. They encounter various obstacles as well as several funny characters along their way. They are pursued by Prince Humperdink (Chris Sarandon), a trite, smarmy royal who makes it his business to start unnecessary wars and make Buttercup miserable.

The story itself is nothing extraordinary. What makes the movie special is the characters and the dialogue between them. The best example I can think of is the sword fight between Westley and Inigo Montoya (Mandy Patinkin, who also happens to have the most famous piece of dialogue from the movie). This is a standard, swashbuckling kind of scene that is made special by countless winks in the dialogue. Example: "Montoya: Why do you wear that mask-were you burned with acid or something? Westley: "No, they're just terribly comfortable...I think someday everyone will wear them." There are many other memorable lines, many of which can make one feel as though they are in an exclusive club if others recognize the dialogue in social interaction. But, in spite of all the sassy dialogue, the movie still works because of its heart. It is able to find a giant with a great heart (Andre the Giant), and a story that really is sentimental. It seems that this movie has achieved a sort of classic status. It deserves it. It is something special, and I think the reason for that is how universal its appeal really is.

Monday, November 14, 2011

Into Great Silence

"Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper."
---1 Kings 19:11-12

The film maker Philip Groning uses this quote from the history of Israel as bookends to his extraordinary documentary. This is the 52nd entry on this blog. I have covered films from many different genres, and in several different languages. The more I watch movies, the more I become convinced that there are certain artistic statements that can only be made with film. While some feel the written word is the ultimate form of expression (and it is amazing), we must not forget that it is only a medium...it is not art itself. With each type of art (be it painting, music, film etc), there are certain things that can be captured that simply could not be caught any other way.

And so, we turn to this extraordinary work by Philiip Groning. It is so simple, yet so profound. The film maker lived in the Grande Chartreuse monastery in the French Alps for 6 months, and captured the lives of its residents on film. The film has no score, no written dialogue, and no special effects. It simply records the lives of the monks: the sights, sounds, and rituals. As such, the viewer can approach this work from a number of different angles. For the secular viewer, one could watch as the quiet lives of these men are recorded, and marvel at the simplicity of their lives, and the beauty of their surroundings. Groning's camera shows us a vast spectrum of nature. It shows us the majesty of the French alps, the quiet of a brook, the lines in an old man's face, and the meditative world that is the monastery. For the believer, this film can be one of two things. One, it could be a simple act of challenging our devotion to God and how much do we meditate on his work. One of the devices that Groning uses to to intersperse different prayers over a black screen during the film. This dovetails nicely into the second thing this film can be for the believer. The film itself can be an act of mediation on God and on his creation. The viewer can see men, young and old, eating together, worshiping together, living together. We can also see them conversing, walking in the mountains, and even enjoying some sledding on a nearby slope. The film takes a certain discipline to watch, and I think that is why this film can be a meditation in and of itself. As we see the discipline these men have over their lives, we are challenged to sit through it for a mere 2 and a half hours.

Silence and meditation is something which is lacking in my life. This film made me think of ways that I could taste this gift. I once read the great abstract expressionist painter Mark Rothko explain his paintings as webs of meditation. This film acts this way. It not only documents its subjects, but it allows us to come close to actually living along side them and practice along with them. The patience and commitment that it took to make this film is noteworthy. The hours and days it must have took in order to simply catch a second of magnificent beauty is noteworthy. If possible, it seems that the way to best experience this film would be in a movie theater. Only there would the viewer truly be able to be immersed in this world with all its sights, sounds and experiences. I was able to get a copy from my local library, and I watched most of it while jogging on my treadmill. It was a good way to experience the film since it takes a certain discipline for me to get on the treadmill.

This is a profound work. I love what it says about its subjects. It gives us a very honorable picture of these men who have devoted their lives to prayer and meditation. But this film also says a lot about film. It shows us another angle about what movies are, and the possibilities that lie within the art of cinema.