Waiting for Superman

Can one discuss the content of a movie with political implications without being political? I don't know if I will do that or not, and maybe it doesn't matter. Though I will say that if one looks honestly at this movie, whatever one's background or political philosophy, I think it does make its case well, and it is a terribly absorbing piece of work.

For the sake of clarity and honesty, I will provide a bit of background. I am a person with a relatively libertarian philosophy. As such, I tend to view the public sector with suspicion. While some spend time eschewing the greed of corporate America (a clear reality, I might add), I tend to fret more about the excesses of government. Maybe I do this because I believe that while corporations exist for profit and not to serve, the government exists to serve its citizens, and the bigger government becomes, the harder it seems that it is for it to serve its citizens well. Like any other entity, if someone or something can focus on what it does well and succeed at that, one thrives. The moment there is overreach (despite good motives), things fall apart.

While this may not be the view that Davis Guggenheim brings to his emotional film about the public schools in the United States, he does want to show what he sees as a problem with the public schools. He admits to being a leftist who simply cannot send his own child to his local public school. This is his decision in spite of his deep belief in the fairness and opportunity of public education. While he holds that ideal, he sees the quality of education his children would receive at the local public school, and he chooses to send his child to a private school, because he can afford it. This sounds like a happy ending. The problem is that many people don't have the same option as Mr. Guggenheim (including myself). Then, the gloves come off. Guggenheim indicts the system mainly by critiquing a system that doesn't hold teachers accountable. This is the most controversial part of the film, since it hits so many nerves. Many teachers feel under attack in our country right now, and the views in this movie could contribute to that. The question the movie poses is this: is the system that has been constructed more in the interest of the teachers and their union, or is it in the interest of the students? To many that is a false dichotomy. Many would argue that the better off the teachers are, the better off the students will be. However, as one sees some of the students who are praying to win a lottery to get out of their dead end school, it is hard to figure out why so much of the establishment (that is, the teachers unions) view any change that might help students with so much suspicion.

The film is confident that the future of these children comes down to the teachers. The great question is, how does it change? The film has received critique because it seems to glorify the charter school as the answer, even though critics show that charter schools' success rates are no different than public schools. This is an important point, but it sort of misses the point that the film is trying to make. Guggenheim wishes to show some specific instances of ideas and systems that are proven to work. The idea is, if we know what works, let's encourage it. No one should believe that a charter school is the answer. The film doesn't really make that claim. What the film does show is systems that do work, and how reticent the unions are to think outside the box. The fine Americans who do the hard work of teaching are part of a system that most people agree is failing our children. This film provokes thought. It points out the urgency of the situation. What are we going to do about the rampant inequity in a system whose whole point is to provide equal opportunity? There are hundreds of answers to that question. We can disagree about those answers. But one thing is certain, this film is honest with the fact that we have a big problem.

Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Revisited

I just wrote on the "Star Wars" prequel trilogy a few months back on this blog, but I want to revisit "Episode 1" again, because recent events have caused me to rethink my views.

One of the most rewarding things about being a parent is the new eyes your kids give you as you revisit so many things from your own youth. "The Phantom Menace" didn't come out until I was 23, but "Star Wars" is so much a part of my childhood that it still seems like a part of my youth. With the arrival of the entire "Star Wars" saga on Blu-Ray last week, I am getting a chance to watch these films again, and begin to introduce the prequel trilogy (which includes "Phantom Menace") to my kids.

As I wrote a few months back, I was never a big detractor of this movie. It had its problems, but the day I saw it, I remember being happy with George Lucas' work. As the nay saying started to mount up, the bitterness started to seem overblown. Was this movie as good as episode 4, a classic in the movie pantheon? No, it wasn't. But, what it did do was add significant texture to the overall mythology of Star Wars. Here, you get to see C3PO meet R2D2 for the first time, and Anakin Skywalker meet Obi Wan Kenobi. Seeing the origins of some of the stories and conflicts with which I was so familiar felt good, and I appreciated the story, in spite of its weaknesses. One of the main weaknesses I felt was the character of Jar Jar Binks. Never in my movie going life had I ever heard an audible groan emerge from a crowd, but on the opening night of "Phantom Menace", I did hear one as soon as Jar Jar's first scene ended. I felt that the character was out of balance with the rest of the story. While Qui Gonn, Padme and ObiWan always seemed solemn and serious, the movie viewer had one character on whom it felt like Lucas was pinning all of the comic relief. This made a film where "Balance" was a big theme seem out of balance. However strongly I felt this, I couldn't help but wonder what would happen one day when I showed this movie to my own children.

That day has come folks. And I will say that watching "Phantom Menace" with my kids has put it in a different light. It helps that I have not watched it in years, as that added to the freshness of my perspective. As I was watching it with them, I realized that while the film is not as strong as Episodes 4-6, it still works quite well as storytelling. If one looks at it as simple mythological storytelling (the kind of storytelling kids relate so well to) it actually is good. The story is a little weird to explain to kids (what's a Trade Federation, after all?), but the overall visual impact and simple plot line is great for kids. Also, I felt totally comfortable sitting down with my 8, 6 and 4 year old and watching the movie.

This time, Jar Jar had worked better for me, since I watched him work for my kids. Jake Lloyd's Anakin also was less annoying in this light. All of the dialogue is still too wooden at times, but kids don't know that! They are so involved in the characters and stories that they don't have time to ask why the dialogue is so stuffy. I had goose bumps sitting and watching this film with my kids, as I watched them wonder at the sights and enjoy the mythology. So, I suppose I have two views on this movie now. The grown up part of me still picks out its weaknesses as I think critically about the film. But the part of me that lives in my kids can enjoy the sights and sounds that take place in this movie.

Schindler's List

There is little I can say to add to the gravity of this movie's content. But since this blog is mainly about my personal journey with movies, this movie has an important place in my journey with movies. It is an important one because it shows something about how I approach movies. I was thinking recently that this movie is a perfect way to describe my evolution regarding how I watch movies (not that any of you asked).

I first saw this film in the theater back when it was released in 1993. It was a homework assignment for a college class, so I did my duty and attended the movie. At the time, I remember feeling outraged. Of course I felt a rage at the atrocities I saw depicted on the screen. But furthermore, on a personal level, I felt angry that I had been made to watch this horror. At the time, I had a very different view on film and the arts. It seemed unnecessary and over the top for me to go to a movie theater and see the evil of the Holocaust put before me. I remember feeling offended by the notion that I would need to sit through the depiction of the Holocaust in order to better understand it.

It would be easy for me to look back on that event and judge myself and say how much I regret my feelings that day. I won't, and I don't. We all approach art as we are, not as we will be or were. A couple of years ago, I watched this film again with my wife, and I was stunned by its brilliance, its poignancy and its symbolism. The story involves a wealthy German man of questionable ethical standing who finds a way (through the loss of his own fortune) to save the lives of 1000 Jews during the reign of the Third Reich. Along the way, director Steven Spielberg challenges the viewers with horrible scenes from the concentration camps, and just a touch of the death and horror that most have been everywhere in those camps.

What I didn't realize when I was in college is that art is by its nature is totally unnecessary. To ask whether or not something needs to be shown is, in many ways, a misguided question. Of course the atrocities don't need to be shown, any more than any other art needs to be made. But artistic expression does satisfy a human desire to tell stories and express feelings. And many times, the worst of times produces some of the best art. The story of "Schindler's List" is a story that begs to be told, though it didn't need to be told for us to have a sense of the horror of the Holocaust. I just read Elie Wiesel's short memoir of the Holocaust, Night. That book uses only words, yet it is piercing. Is Wiesel's book necessary? It is no more necessary than Spielberg's film. The issue becomes not whether or not the film or the book are necessary, but how well does it do telling its story? In asking this question, we see Spielberg approaching this material with the same conviction of his storytelling that he had with "ET". In both of these films, the sad realities of life are brought to the forefront. With "ET", it is on a small scale, as we see a lonely boy befriend an alien as he copes with the breakdown of his parents' marriage. In "Schindler's List" , Spielberg shows human sorrow on a grand scale, as the dignity and humanity of millions is stripped away before our eyes. Sometimes that level of sorrow needs to be faced. I think of some of the horrors depicted in the Psalms, and the raw emotion that is expressed therein.

With this in mind, the question that I should have asked myself those many years ago in college was not, "Was this movie necessary?'" This question cannot truly be answered, since art is by nature an offshoot of humanity rather than humanity itself. Instead, I should have asked myself, "What can I learn?", or "Where is God here?" It is my hope that I can continue to do that. That is why a film like this, as bleak as it is, can be strangely inspiring and, in its own way, uplifting.

Singin' in the Rain

Here's another movie that almost everyone loves, but most have their own story regarding it. For me, it was watching it almost every year on KTLA 5 in LA. And every year, even as a young child, I loved watching it. As a child and a young man, I disliked musicals. I thought they were utterly preposterous. As an adult, I have come to appreciate and even love musicals. I realized somewhere along the way that musicals, just like any genre, have their good and their bad representatives. But this film was always the one musical I loved even in the years I claimed not to like musicals. As I have grown to love this genre, this movie still holds a special place for me.

What I have come to appreciate even more as I have grown older is how smart this movie is. It is a wicked satire. I would even say that a film like "This is Spinal Tap" works in its shadow. In this movie, we have an industry going through a Copernican style revolution, and there are skeletons in said industry's closet. The film is set in Hollywood at the end of the silent movie era. Don Lockwood and Lina Lamont (Gene Kelly and Jean Hagen) have been marketed as a Hollywood couple, and the release of each of their films is an event. They are the toast of Hollywood, and things couldn't be better, so it seems. Then, a wrench is thrown into everything with the arrival of talking pictures. Lina has a horrible voice, and Don's acting skills need refining. The contrast of what is seen on screen and what is real life becomes uproarious. Enter Cathy Seldon (Debbie Reynolds), a talented young actress who can act and sing. Don falls in love with her, endangering the cooked up Hollywood romance on which the studio is depending. Add Cosmo Brown (Doanld O' Connor), Don's old buddy, to the mix, and the chemistry is perfect.

Each musical number gets better, and then we reach the title number. The title number elicits goose bumps from me very time I watch it, and most of us have hummed it to ourselves at one time or another while walking in the rain. A month or so again, U2's Bono led the crowd here in Minneapolis in a sing along of this song, as all of us were caught in a summer downpour.

This movie stands as a cultural landmark. It could only have been made in America, and it shows us some of what is to be celebrated about the American culture, in spite of all the messiness of our culture. Put the film in the DVD player. Laugh out loud at the wonderful contrast between Don's spoken autobiography and the pictures telling us what actually happened. Howl watching Lina Lamont decimate the English language. Cringe watching Donald O' Connor making mince meat of his body in the "Make 'Em Laugh" number. And finally, let your heart glow as Gene Kelly twirls his umbrella and pounces on the lamp post. It just doesn't get much better than this.

Pinocchio

What is it about these early Disney movies that captures me so much more than the Pixar work? I have softened significantly toward Pixar movies, since for many years I thought all of them were overrated. I don't feel as strongly that way anymore, but I still feel that many of the classic Disney films overshadow the Pixar films, in spite of the technical wizardry of the newer films.

One of the main reasons I respect Pinocchio so much is the same reason the first Star Wars film is such a landmark. These movies had their filmmakers making things up as they went along. The first shot in Pinocchio was revolutionary at the time, as the camera pans over the Italian village, and then slowly makes its way into the story. The only thing comparable to Pinocchio these days is Toy Story, since it was the first movie to be 100% computer animated. But Toy Story relied on the voices of famous actors (albeit fine actors-Tom Hanks does become Woody), while Pinocchio even more fully relies on the power of its story and the imagination to realize it.

By now, the story is very much a part of our consciousness. A lonely old puppeteer constructs a little boy and wishes upon a star that his puppet would become a real boy. The blue fairy brings the puppet to life, but the wooden boy must decide for himself whether or not he will be a real boy. His adventures and temptations are what the movie is about.

But it is about so much more. There is a warmth and charm to this movie that I have never found anywhere else. The simple story is beautifully told, and in it I see myself-my struggles to deal with going the easy way and not following the more difficult path.

Not to spoil too much, but in the end, Pinocchio does become a real boy. But since he has spent the majority of the film as a selfish boy, it never to me seemed that he had quite proven himself. May I suggest that there is a tremendous grace to Pinocchio becoming a real boy? Could it be that Gepetto's faith in the wish is what gave Pinocchio the ability all along?

The Fantastic Mr Fox

Another Andersonish entry from Wes Anderson. Though this movie did not captivate me the way my favorite of his movies do, I still loved watching it. One of the things that is so great about it is that since it is animated, so many of Anderson's whimsical visions can be realized even better.

The story revolves around a sly fox who moves his family to a brand new home (in a tree) in order to be closer to three factories from which he wants to steal. Along the way, we get to know his family. We see how Mr. Fox relates to his wife and his child, and his nephew. In the end, the family is a little bit happier, the three factories are a bit poorer, and the viewer of the film is a little bit more cheery.

Wes Anderson is in love with film making, and this movie exhibits that yet again. I found his style of dialogue a little less effective without the actors' face actually attached to the dialogue, but it still worked. This film feels a bit like a pet piece for Anderson (though I'm sure it took enormous amounts of work). Other films of his strike more of a chord in their humor and drama, and this one is a simple, whimsical tale. The animation is amazing, and it is astounding to think about how much work must have gone into this project.

I admire the level of commitment to a story here. Having said that, I would also love to see what Wes Anderson has next. He is an extraordinary gifted film maker, and one of those artists that will always keep me interested.

The Help

In the span of 3 weeks, I both read the novel and saw the movie, "The Help." As such, I feel I was able to compare them even better than other film adaptations of books. As I watched, I saw a very good depiction of the characters in the novel. But the entire experience went beyond that. As I watched, I found myself reflecting on the larger issue of civil rights, as well as the prisons in which we all find ourselves.

The story focuses on three women. Two of them are African American maids, and one is a young white college student. The young white woman is an aspiring writer, and she begins to take an interest in the lives of the countless women who end up raising white children. The story shows how her interest in writing their stories leads to shared discovery...not only of the need for equality for the African American people, but also shedding a light on the prisons many of the the peoples of both colors are in. For example, the character of Minny is in a different kind of prison. She has gotten in trouble at work through her sass, and she loses her job. But a deeper prison in which she finds herself is the one at home, as she wearily deals with an abusive husband. The high society white ladies and men in the movie are in a prison of their own construction. They cannot question the status quo, so they go along with horrible realities. They pay other women to raise their children, and treat those women like rubbish since the are expendable. Since the African American women must be kept where they are, the delicate social construct must be maintained, so they find any way they can to maintain the status quo, or even dial it back a few years.

The key character to the story is Aibileen, played amazingly by Viola Davis. Mild mannered and gentle, she is also strong, and she becomes the first woman to stand up and tell her story to Skeeter (Emma Stone), who is compiling these stories into a revolutionary book about the lives of the women. This is a story that is small in focus, but makes one think about the world. Anytime a story with these themes in it is released, it elicits controversy. I think that is good. We must be able to deal with our history honestly, and art can do that, however imperfect the work of art may be. I thought it ironic that the two women (Aibileen and Minny) however oppressed they were, end the movie in a freer state than the racist community in Jackson. True, they are still second class citizens who are in the poorer class, but they have shared their story, and they have found a certain measure of dignity. The society women of Jackson, while more privileged and wealthy, are trapped in hate and fear.

The performances are all great, and the film is able to capture the characters on the screen very well. There are some amendments to the book, as well as some deletions. But the true strength of the adaptation is the ability to realize the characters in the book. And the pie story line was executed brilliantly. For those who have read the book, you know what I am talking about. For those who have no idea what I am talking about, you will not be disappointed in the pay off.