Saturday, October 29, 2011

Moneyball

My cousin Jeremy and I made our way to a movie theater last just off 14th St. in Manhattan, and ducked into the theater to catch this new film last week. It was a thrilling experience, partly because we had just had a wonderful day of sightseeing in New York, and partly because we saw a film that was both highly engaging and entertaining.

One need not be a baseball fan to enjoy this film, but as a lifelong fan of the game, I was hooked by the premise of it. 9 years ago, journalist Michael Lewis wrote a book called Moneyball in which he recorded how the Oakland Athletics of the American League were able to continue to put together winning teams despite a very low payroll. To sum up, the idea was that the general manager of the Athletics (Billy Beane, the main character both of the book and the film) was able to find "undervalued players" by reassessing the priorities of baseball statistics. In this world, getting on base is the most important thing a batter can do...how that happens is irrelevant. In the process he undermines the establishment and is able to succeed despite no one believing in him except a young Ivy League educated assistant. Take the baseball away, and what is left? A classic Hollywood underdog story of one crazy person taking on the status quo and, in his own way, winning.

Being a lover of baseball, there are many things that help me love the movie more. As I watched Billy Beane (played wonderfully by Brad Pitt) argue on the phone with Johnny Damon's agent "Scott", I knew who "Scott" was. Knowing who that was added texture to my experience, but would not detract from the experience of someone who didn't. Also, the film brilliantly recounts Beane's own history as a hot young prospect who simply doesn't pan out in the major leagues. As Billy Beane has another shot to compete in baseball in a a different way, he is forced to make decisions about what is important to him, and in a way, possibly right some of the wrongs from earlier in his life. The reason this film is so good is that it is able to tell Beane's own story, and we see him develop. That is the mark of good storytelling, whatever the setting and content of the story. The fact that one can walk away from this film happy for the decisions the Beane's character made speaks volumes on how engaging the story is, and how well it is told.

In the midst of the great storytelling, there are some great laughs, some good baseball, and wonderfully powerful performances from Phillip Seymour Hoffman and Johah Hill (as the Ivy League educated numbers cruncher mentioned above). Hoffman plays the Athletics' manager Art Howe, an old school baseball man who thinks that Beane's ideas are crazy, and fights him every step of the way on controlling the team. There is a moment of brilliance that I recall in the movie. At one point, Beane is having trouble with a certain lineup decision that Howe (Hoffman's character) has made. This continues to be a point of contention between the two of them. Eventually, Beane plays his trump card and trades away the player who was creating the issue without Howe's knowledge. The reaction Hoffman gives when he finds out that one of his favorite players has been traded is truly priceless.

As a father, I also related closely Beane's relationship with his daughter. There are some sweet moments here which show a very human side to this driven and competitive man. And that, in many ways, best demonstrates how good this movie is. To be able to cover the drama of a baseball season, the ups and down of one man's baseball career, and see him grow in stature as a father, and have that all be in one movie is something unique. I hope the sports content does not scare people away from a wonderfully dramatic and funny human story.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Hard Day's Night

Lately, I have been making my way through the Beatles' catalog with the help of the CD player in my brand new Subaru Outback. As I listen to these songs again (which never, ever grow old), I was reminded of this film, and it's place in my love of movies.

It might be that there would have been no "Monty Python" without this film. This movie has a sense of humor all its own, complete with the irony and surrealism that would eventually be front and center in the comedy of Monty Python. However, here there is very little iconoclasm. Instead, the spirit of the Beatles' early years is captured, almost as though it were a time capsule. We see the joy of the four of them in their early years. We see the distinct personalities of the Beatles (or at least, the images they wanted to portray). Also, for better or worse, we see in this film some very early music videos. The surrealism of "I Should Have Known Better" is a great example of an early music video. The four Beatles are playing cards in a train car, and voila, suddenly they are all playing instruments! Ringo's drums suddenly appear, the guitars pop out of thin air, and John sings the wonderfully vulnerable lyrics of this song.

The plot of the film is somewhat inconsequential. The four Beatles are suffering the slings and arrows of constant touring. Their unity is threatened by the presence of Paul's grandfather, who is a conniving "clean old man" who seeks to disrupt the unity of the group for no good reason.

All of the hijinks and separate paths the Beatles take culminate in the TV appearance at the end of the film. When I was young, I remember my dad instructing me to look at the girls in the TV audience and notice that all of them are calling out the name of their favorite Beatle. When one watches this film, one looks back beyond the brilliance and angst of the Beatles' later years and sees the freshness of the Beatles as they were first known.

As a movie, three things set this movie apart. First, the movie is filled with so much energy and creativity that the viewer simply cannot look away. This is really a tribute to the wonderful screenplay. The script gives the Beatles wonderful dialogue and situations in which to act. The film feels like a string of sketches which are brought together to form a story. Second, the acting is very good. True, the Beatles are playing themselves, but they are still able to deliver the dialogue and make the situations funny through timing and reactions. If one adds to this the great support they receive from the character actors in the movie, one has a show of greta acting in the film. Finally, the movie has great music. All of the songs are Beatles' songs, and they are all good. The Beatles truly were one of a kind, and this film brings that to the forefront. It is such a wonderful thing to have this period in the history of rock and roll captured on film forever.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Conan O' Brien Can't Stop

I have been a Conan O' Brien fan for many years. I remember watching his very first program, and being somewhat unimpressed. However, as the years went on, I started to see some of his absurd humor, and I couldn't help but start to become a fan.

In January of 2010, something happened which polarized many in the country. Thankfully, it was inconsequential, but it did inflame a lot of passion, especially in people my age and younger. Jay Leno (who represented the establishment for many) got his job back on the Tonight Show, and Conan O' Brien was fired from his dream job as the host of the Tonight Show. I thought he got a bad deal, but knew he would be back on television eventually. Between the time that he left the Tonight Show and began his new program on basic cable, he took a live show on tour across the country and sold out every venue. Along the way, he allowed himself to be filmed, and the product of that was this documentary.

It is a very entertaining film for two reasons. First, Conan is a natural comedian. He is a very funny man, and that translates here as he jokes around with his crew and his coworkers on the road. Also, the clips from the live show itself are hilarious. In the same vein, Conan appears to be very friendly. He gives a lot to his fans in the film. He knows that many of his most rabid fans have come to see his show, and he does his best to accommodate them. He even does this at times when he is not thrilled about the prospect. His bitterness at the obligation leaks out a couple of times in the film. One wonders what it would be like to see yourself on screen (if you happened to be caught by the filmmaker's lens) adoring Conan right after he is honest about the draining nature of showing love to his fans.

This segues into the second reason this film is so entertaining. It shows us a human being and his struggle with fame. We live in a harsh culture that sees celebrities as our servants. True, Conan chooses to travel far away from his wife and children. No one makes him. The settlement he reached with NBC was so lucrative that I would imagine that he didn't need the money the tour provided. Obviously, he did it because he loves entertaining people. But after a few months on the road, it is clear that some of the obligations of the job were taking its toll. He still puts on a smile and greets his fans, but the camera away from his fans captures his true feelings as well. It is interesting to me why Conan would want for this side of him to be given to his fans. But it is also refreshing. It shows us the very human side to this man, and that celebrity of this level is unnatural. That is why near the end of his tour, he longs for the simplicity of driving his kids to school. He knows that is a more realistic life, and he yearns for it. But, he also loves the interaction he has while performing, and so he will live with the tension.

This film is so important. We as a culture must learn that celebrities are doing a job, and we don't really know them. Ironically, Conan gives us a chance to know him a little better here, and we see ourselves in him. Who amongst us wouldn't yearn for simplicity when millions of people demand your attention. How would I do if young women who were strangers to me began throwing themselves at me? It is a tall order to carry that well, and the moments when we see the weight of it become too much for him, we remember that O' Brien is a human like the rest of us. And, even with his frustrations, he comes out even more lovable. I wonder if that's what he wanted.

Monday, October 3, 2011

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.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

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.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

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.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

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.