The Swallow's Nest

The Book or the Movie: Shutter Island

Lehane, Dennis. Shutter Island. New York: Harper Pernnial, 2009. 

Shutter Island (2010). Directed by Martin Scorsese. Paramount Pictures.  

"What's better? The book or the movie?" This a commonly used expression when we're looking for a recommendation and we know someone's both read the book and seen the movie. And this is exactly what I've done with Dennis Lehane's book and Martin Scorsese's film Shutter Island. This was actually the first I have read Lehane, but it won't be the last. I saw Mystic River but never read the book. What a shame. Up front I'll tell you the book is better than the movie, at least the first three quarters of the film right up until a very unexpected twist, and then in some respects the movie is better. Not matter how you slice it, a fine ending to both, even if the film follows the narrative's tale precisely. 

This is a story about the psychology of the mind in the human experience. It comes complete with fear, violence, hope and aggression. I jumped out of my seat a couple of times at the theatre and I knew what was coming. DiCaprio, naturally the lead, is believable as Teddy. Again Leonardo, the film star I want to dislike but cannot, turns in a solid performance. But Ben Kingsley as Dr. John Cawley makes it. Not at first; it took him several scenes to grow into the role, which I was transferring from my imagination in reading the book, but Kingsley caught up to my own Dr. Cawley, and then surpassed him. Looking back on what I've just written makes it sound like I suffer from my own psychosis! At some level, don't we all? Who are the real insane?

I like how Lehane writes about insanity in the book. "She placed the scalpel on the ground by her knee and stoked the fire with a stick. 'If you are deemed insane, then all actions that would otherwise prove you are not do, in actuality, fall into the framework of an insane person's actions. Your sound protests constitute denial. Your valid fears are deemed paranoia. Your survival instincts are labeled defense mechanisms. It's a no-win situation. It's a death penalty really (270).'" On many levels, a sound analysis.

There arises here too in this book and film a compassion for the mental. We might think of compassion as God's great gift to the mentally and criminally insane. But Lehane suggests another view. "God's gift,' the warden said, 'His violence...God loves violence. You understand that, don't you?' 'No,' Teddy said, 'I don't.' The warden walked a few steps forward and turned to face Teddy. 'Why else would there be so much of it? It's in us. It comes out of us. It is what we do more naturally than we breathe. We wage war. We burn sacrifices. We pillage and tear at the flesh of our brothers. We fill great fields with our stinking dead. And why? To show Him that we've learned from His example.' Teddy watched...

'God gives us earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes. He gives us mountains that spew fire onto our heads. Oceans that swallow ships. He gives us nature, and nature is a smiling killer. He gives us disease so that in our death we believe He gave us our orifices so that we could feel our life bleed out of them. He gave us lust and fury and greed and our filthy hearts. So that we could wage violence in His honor...There is no moral order at all. There is only this - can my violence conquer yours (279)?'" 

Huh. Now there is a narrative on God worth dissecting (another time). So compassion yet violence. Hope yet heartache. Freedom or imprisonment? Healing or held hostage in the hospital? Life or a lobotomy? Which is it? Lehane's wild ride and Scorsese's adaptation suggest all of the above and more. Read it. See it. I recommend it. 

Review: The Hurt Locker

"The older you get the fewer things you really love. By the time you get to my age maybe it's only one or two things. With me I think it's one."

That encapsulates all of the Hurt Locker. It is that one thing. Last week the film won an Oscar for Best Picture on this one thing. Was it worthy of the award? I think so. It must be a realistic portrait of what drives men in war. And what drives men, women, and children from both sides. And it felt crushingly suspenseful in its scope on both the inside and outside of the human trails of war, and bombs, and getting all that strapped around your sides.

I really do not have much more to say. It was just that one thing.   

 

 

Review: Avatar

Wow. What a shame. Three days later and I have still not gotten over how much of a waste all of that superb technology was in Avatar. The story line (or lack thereof) was so poor, such an utter and complete disaster, that it undid any advances the technology provided. Let me be clear at the top: do not see this movie. If you have been meaning to go and haven't gotten around to it, trust me: you have better things to keep on doing. If you've searched for an empty seat in every theatre this side of San Francisco and none are available, cease your search. Just get it out of your mind that you cannot miss Avatar. You can, and you will be grateful if you're one of the lucky few who misses it.  

Don't believe me? Let me give you a quiz and see how you do. 

Question #1: If I told you a movie I had just seen had amazing animation (3D even) but it didn't even have a barely acceptable plot and it was 2 hours and 40 minutes in length, would you go? Avatar has no discernible plot and it spawns off numerous story lines that go about as far as putting one foot in front of the other. Once! This was the first time since Austin Powers I seriously, and I do mean planned it down to the tiniest detail, thought about walking out. But at HK$150 (US$20) I just could not bring myself to do it.

Question #2: Do you like acting? I mean do you turn on your television at 9PM on a Thursday night and expect to be entertained by an actor or actress? Have you spent a little capital on theatre tickets in London or New York? Heck, do you laugh or giggle a little when the cute niece and nephew put on a little play in the living room at Christmas in front of Daddy's (your bother's) new video camera? If your answer is yes to any of the above, then avoid Avatar like the swine flu. Not one single person Cameron hired has the ability to act in this disaster. Not one. (Go ahead, ask me about Sigourney Weaver - nope! She forgot how to act for this role.) 

Question #3: Did you like Hollow Man? Anaconda? Lake Placid? Snakes On A Plane? If you answer "yes," then avoid Avatar. It can't hold a candle to these flicks. If you answer "no," then you're like the rest of the world for one, and two: Avatar makes these pieces of junk look like the shiny Academy Award.

Question #4: Are you relatively happy in life? Do you like money and enjoy having some? Have you felt blessed this Christmas? Is starting 2010 on a good foot, a high note, a place of peace important to you? Then (my final warning): do not see this blight on an otherwise happy holiday. Do something else, anything else! But whatever you do, do not (wait...I already gave my final warning)... 

 

 P.S. Hey, James Cameron, don't believe the hype brother. You cannot make movies. You just can't.  

Review: Sherlock Holmes

Every so often we get a movie that we need. I think Sherlock Holmes is it. I went to see it last week just after Christmas and frankly was not expecting anything close to what I saw. This film is sprightly, creative, humorous, and jammed packed with action, excellent dialogue, and costumes. But what I liked most about it is that you better get your brain on if you want to follow the stories present to past to present to past. There's a lot of well timed flashbacks that actually worked. (Flashback is one of my least favorite moves a director takes with his/her film.) And it is these quick paced scenes that stirred my WOW! 

Oh it's good, very good. I am sure the books are better (as books almost always are). I wish I had read them. But Guy Ritchie (yea, yea Madonna's ex) nailed this one down and you'll be sorry he hasn't nailed you to the seat for an immediate sequel, which will inevitably come. The ultimate genius behind my four star goes to directors and Ritchie gets to wear this one on his lapel for a long time. But actors and actresses are required and...

• Depp couldn't have done Downey any better  (Johnny Depp was made for this role, in my opinion...until my opinion changed in the theatre). Robert Downey Jr. was whiz bang wonderful. 
• "It's elementary, my dear Watson." Classic line, not used. But Watson showed up and he was pulchritudinous (that is the exact word I want). Jude Law got the role and played it beautifully. Picture perfect, if you ask me. 
• Finally, this film needed a villain and he came in the form of Lord Henry Blackwood. Mark Strong got the part and he did evil proud. The crooked tooth was an undeniable mark, but the eyes, the height, the cape, and the resurrection. All of this coming at me made me believe Mr. Blackwood meant business.

The biblical imagery was front and center. The story-line may have been too reminiscent of Dan Brown. But I don't think any of this distracts. Director, cast, and crew hit the bulls eye. Clearly this deserves all the stars I or you can give it. Go see it. Avatar can wait. So can the drinks, the revelry, the pomp and pump of New Year's and the year in film that lies ahead.   

 

 

Review: Amelia

Earlier this year, after our visit to the National Air & Space Museum in Washington DC where we saw (from a distance, that section was under renovation) Amelia Earhart's red Lockheed 5B Vega plane, I bought and read Amelia: A Biography. I was so taken by the story of flight, an interest of mine anyway, and by the progress of this famous female aviator who accomplished some incredible feats, that I wanted to read about her. The book was only OK so when the film came out this week I snuck away for two hours to see it. Either my expectations were too high or the creators of this movie failed miserably. Its as choppy, bumpy, and turbulent as an aircraft navigating some painfully rough air. Worse, imagine that airplane is poorly put together and you're not sure you can make it to the end without stepping off. Boy this movie is bad.

And I was quite surprised. I have three big disappointments:

1. I expected much more from the actors. I think Hilary Swank is a very good actress. She is typically outstanding. But not here. She crashed and burned on this role. Hey Hilary, what happened to the passion and majesty you brought to Maggie Fitzgerald in Million Dollar Baby? Richard Gere is not my favorite and neither is Ewan McGregor, but I would have thought they could do better given...

2. The fascinating subject matter. Here's the world famous aviator Amelia Earhart. She was the first in so many advances in air travel, not to mention the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean before she took off to cover the whole world, and nearly made it. She was also an author, a pioneer in aviation, a founder of women's groups, and she has a compelling background, childhood, and overall character and personality. And this was the best director Mira Nair could do? Yuck.

3. Ultimately Amelia's story is a tragic, unsolved mystery. There's only a brief mention of this at the end. The way they chose to handle the ending of her life, somewhere over the Pacific, was so anti-climactic I almost could not believe my eyes. I got the feeling the directors, the actors, the folks working on the set and certainly the editors just wanted the thing to be over with. Did they rush it to production? It sure felt like it. I was expecting to leave the theatre further intrigued with that creepy but fascinating question: "what happened to her?" I left asking "what just happened to me? To us? What impression does this film leave with my fellow movie goers who have not been to the Air & Space Museum, who haven't read about this extraordinary life, and who now think her plane just sort of wafted into the ocean and lies there in peace?" The ending was missing some serious adventure, magic, and mystery. 

But why should that surprise me? From start to finish this film was one of the most unimaginative I've seen in a long while. And it's a shame because the real life of Amelia Earhart was anything but unimaginative.

 

    

The Attraction to Tragedy

What is it about tragedy in the human experience that I'm drawn to? Last night I viewed a compelling short film, part of ESPN's 30 for 30 called The Legend of Jimmy the Greek. Jimmy The Greek was a blast from my past. Growing up on the East Coast of the United States in Boston and being a pretty big football fan from my childhood onwards my brother, cousin, and I used to rush home from church to tune into The NFL Today on CBS followed by that week's game (usually the Patriots). For 12 years "the Greek" joined Brent Musberger, Irv Cross, and Phyllis George and gave his predictions for what team would win each game on the slate for that day. Jimmy Snyder (his real name) was himself a big time gambler. That's what put him on television in the first place and that's what took him off and eventually out (of this world in April 1996). While he never mentioned gambling terminology on the NFL Today, it was clear that he was speaking to all the betting people out there. Football fans loved him.

Here was a guy that came from nothing and out of nowhere, built up a career as a major force in television, and then his big dark heart was revealed to a reporter (with camera rolling) when he offered these blatantly racist comments:

"The black is a better athlete to begin with because he's been bred to be that way — because of his high thighs and big thighs that goes up into his back, and they can jump higher and run faster because of their bigger thighs. This goes back all the way to the Civil War when during the slave trading, the owner — the slave owner would breed his big black to his big woman so that he could have a big black kid."

With those words, the Greek (for good reason) lost his job at CBS and his life spiraled down, down, down. These comments are only part of the reason Jimmy was a tragic American story. Fritz Mitchell's excellent documentary style film draws on his friendships, his ex-colleagues, his son, and other sports writers and followers to portray a man saddled with much anger and resentment and pain that he never spoke about and therefore ate away at him from the inside. He and his wife lost three children to cystic fibrosis, which didn't help his already wounded and hurting soul. I urge you to see the piece if you can. ESPN will keep re-airing it. Check the website for details here. 

Why was I drawn to this tragic figure? Why am I drawn to other tragic figures of human history? I think in part because Jimmy The Greek was part of my history and therefore my own story. Even viewing the footage of the old CBS set that was on from 1975-1989, those old, old graphics (pre-historic!), the CBS sports coat with the eye sown into the breast pocket, the old wired lapel microphones, and there sat Jimmy at the edge of the set with that shirt and tie and big gold chain draped around the outside. Wow did this take me back in time. The 1980s was a somewhat tragic time for me and for someone I used to watch Sundays the tragedies were unfolding behind the scenes. What I found notable within myself as I watched the story was how even the auxiliary stuff - a television set, a vintage graphic - served as a reminder of those days gone by and of the tragic within the human. Made me wish I could have been with The Greek before he died, maybe to offer hope, healing, help? 

On many different levels I would like to have those old days back. Is that why we call them the "good old days"? But I know they are gone forever. I will never again be young, racing home from church to watch football, mesmerized by the set with all its graphics, gadgets, and wizardry. I don't live anywhere near my brother, my cousin, or our old childhood home. And the hurts and pains of the past are part of my permanent history. The days blow by, but occasionally some reminder, some smell, some song stumps us and settles us and then unsettles us and we stop to remember. And when we remember we see how tragic our own lives can be or maybe will be in the end. May God have mercy on Jimmy the Greek and may God have mercy on us all.

Here's the old NFL Today crew. The Greek is top left. 

Here's the old graphic for the show (look at that!):

Tales from the Bookstore

This evening I went spotting at the Hong Kong Airport and, as is my custom, I dropped into the airport bookstore. Often I find the books there are more expensive (duh!) but they also have newer titles and often they come out in paperback first at the airport (duh again). This evening one booked jumped off the new rack by the front door. The color and picture on the cover captured my attention. The book is The Men Who Stare at Goats. For the life of me I could not figure out where I had heard about this book before, and then it hit me. A film by the same title is about to be released in Hong Kong (next week) and I saw the poster for it down at IFC Mall in Central. 

I read the first chapter and I'm kind of intrigued by it. It is the true story of a division within the U.S. military of psychic spies. Here's a little description from Amazon, "As Ronson reveals, a secret wing of the U.S. military called First Earth Battalion was created in 1979 with the purpose of creating 'Warrior Monks,' soldiers capable of walking through walls, becoming invisible, reading minds and even killing a goat simply by staring at it. Some of the characters involved seem well-meaning enough, such as the hapless General Stubblebine, who is 'confounded by his continual failure to walk through his wall.' But Ronson (Them: Adventures with Extremists) soon learns that the Battalion's bizarre ideas inspired some alarming torture techniques being used in the present-day War on Terror."

Now I wish I bought the book when I had the chance. When will I learn? I have not seen it anywhere else in my city bookstores and I do not feel like going back out to the airport anytime soon, although that could change. This story sounds fascinating - kind of a mix between paranormal, adventure, and mystery. 

Have you heard about it? Read it? Seen the movie? 

Review: The Informant!

I am really not sure how I feel, but not being sure how I feel is how I feel about The Informant. Ever felt this way about a film? The piece had all the right elements to make it one of the year's best. An intriguing true story played out on the big screen and carried by a very talented actor (Matt Damon) as he was directed by another gem (Steven Soderbergh) and made nearly flawless by the times in which it took place. The plot winds and twists and gives you that sense of just-when-I-thought-I-had-this-figured-out. But, while I cannot put my finger on it, I've concluded it was missing something. What? I am not sure. Just...something.

I didn't mind the slight element of humor and wit, the cartoon like fonts and music intros and exits (see the film & understand what I mean), the snappy pace of the dialogue, or the adaptations from the real life story and book that launched the idea for the film. Damon was good enough to be worthy of an Oscar come the Spring. He almost single handedly made the two hours and I felt like he could have carried it on for another 30 minutes or so no problem. And classic Soderbergh. Well done, as always.

 

So what was missing? Maybe weak character development in supporting actors and actresses? The bumbling agents of the FBI nearly nailed their roles, but not quite. Melanie Lynskey played Damon's wife and botched it. The attorneys, Damon's colleagues at ADM, and the actors who portrayed justice department officials weren't any good. Damon's performance may have been enough to make up for all of this, but he's no Daniel Day-Lewis (in There Will Be Blood). Matt needed some of the others to step up and they were too flat. And yet this is not really the missing ingredient. I'll have to think on this some more and see if I can pinpoint a reason why The Informant! could have been better. 

But not much better. It's a four star flick. It dances with five stars here & there. I suspect the real life story of Mark Whitacre is five stars. It would have to be to pull off what he did and then very nearly almost did again! Smart dude. I wonder what he thinks of Damon's portrayal? It must be fascinating to see yourself on film, faking out the feds, far ahead of them, but then remembering how it all collapsed. Considering the diagnosis of manic-depressive. Then going out to live your post-prison life. If only all of us could see our mistakes, our sin, our folly, our sickness, our potential, and our decisions this way. Watching it alongside millions of others worldwide, particularly if we could make a movie while we were up to all this mischief, so that we could gauge public opinion before we pressed our crimes to their logical end! Maybe then we would not commit them, or we would re-consider the implications more carefully, or we would do it anyway and with even more pizzaz and punch. The real Mark Whitacre gets to consider all this now from his seat in the theatre. A free man, and COO and president of a new business, he sure will get to consider his life in perspective.  

Do You Believe?

Do you believe in ghosts? Halloween has just passed and Larry King had an interesting show on Friday night (Saturday morning in Hong Kong) in which he interviewed several people related to ghost appearances, ghost whispers, the paranormal, and the spiritual. I was sucked in from beginning to end. But what really hooked me on the topic was the story of Eastern Airlines flight 401. Have you heard of this? Apparently when this plane went down on December 29, 1972 in Florida the captain died, and returned to haunt Eastern Airlines for many more years to come. 

Since I had absolutely no idea about this air accident or the supposed haunting I decided to read about it for myself, but not immediately on the World Wide Web. Instead I am placing an order for this and this. There is something about an unsolved mystery, an airplane accident, and a ghost that intrigues me and (I think) will make for good reading and watching. Delayed gratification. I've barred myself from reading the Wikipedia entry on the matter, and I'm going to anticipate receiving these resources so I can dig in. It will be fun. Something to look forward to.

But that was just an honorable mention during the show. King interviewed Dan Aykroyd and his father Peter. Together, they are authors of this new book. You may think, "well of course he had on Aykroyd. The movie Ghostbusters is one of the all-time classics." But did you know the Aykroyd's believe (sincerely) in ghosts and Peter is a regular at seances? They have studied ghosts (what they prefer to call spirits) for generations. That was an interesting nugget since I just assumed Dan was in the movie because he is a good actor. But the more they talked on LKL the more I wondered about the connection of their idea of spirits and my own ideas about spirits, formed mainly (in my case) by my faith in Christ and awareness of evil spirits that fight in vain with Jesus for my soul. What is the connection between spirits and ghosts? 

Larry also hosted the guys from the television series on Discovery Channel Ghost Lab. These two sure do have an intriguing set of stories where they actually record supposed ghosts on film and also the voices of ghosts. King had them show how a hotel down south in the U.S. is haunted by Civil War veterans. They had footage which looked like a woman from that time period in the hallway and they use some souped new technology to record voices (in this case of some Civil War General). You may be thinking what I would normally think, "Doubt it. Doesn't happen. Figment of their imagination." I am generally skeptical as well. Ghost lab guys claim ghosts are an energy that leaves a person when they die, and this energy cannot die. So the person returns and speaks and appears and scares the living daylights out of those they haunt. Well, these guys and many other producers of t.v shows think this is real. Doing all of it for a buck and some ratings? Maybe? Most likely? I don't know, but it sure was interesting. (And there are dozens of other shows, just like this one, tracing ghosts. Check your local listings.)

What was less interesting was guest Joan Rivers who claims her NYC apartment was haunted by the previous owner until she called in a spiritist that cleansed it, and until she hung up a portrait of the old woman in her foyer. Now the deceased former owner is happy and doesn't come through the pad at night while Rivers is sleeping scaring the fur off her dogs and locking doors, etc. 

But seriously, why does this fascinate so many people? Why am I getting subtly sucked in to at least explore the reality of ghosts and/or spirits? Beyond the fear and the mystery and the unknown I do just wonder. My conviction still is there is no such a thing as a ghost, but there most certainly are spirits. We need not fear them. We have all the protection we need in Jesus Christ. But I think an exploration of Larry's topic sure will make for an interesting study and I'll come back later to report what I find out, especially about Eastern Airlines 401. 

Until then...

Review: The Wrestler

Are you kidding me? This is how it ends? There is so much to love in these minutes ringside, but there could be nothing more I could have asked for than this ending (to echo you, Bruce Springsteen – see this film if you do not know what I mean). This is a story that will impact everyone who experiences it, but only the truly broken will know how true it is. Only those broken down pieces of meat, only those who are alone, only those who don’t want to be hated even though they deserve to be will know why this ending is so significant. It’s true – this movie ends the way it should – how could a wrestling movie end without one last match? But the credits roll and we sit and wonder, “what happened?” and the broken, the loner, and the hated know it doesn’t matter because no one cares.

But there is more to this story than the end. Laughter is one. I howled out loud at the deli, part one. The way The Wrestler, with his girly nametag, slams around the meats and other processed crap Americans live on while having a good time just made me smile and let slip a hearty laugh. And the part-documentary feel made me laugh too remembering something of my life back there in the rough and tumble world of the American supermarket where I once logged many an hour and none too few a day. We needed to laugh just then and the storytellers gave it to us.

If laughter is one then emptiness is a heartbreaking second. I felt the hollowness of life thumping down on the mat here and there, but when Randy’s standing amidst the winter leaves in his “backyard” I felt it rise up within my own bones. There is something about a clear, cold winter’s day in the eastern USA where I grew up that, when you couple the weather with the palpable pain of life, makes for a memory only we who have lived it can understand. I am not even sure I can put words to it here or if you were sitting here to ask me. No. I cannot. All I can tell you: there is an emptiness to this film that makes it special.

If laughter is one and emptiness is two, then perhaps it’s the combination of those two that make for a third: this is a film every kid who’s like me wants to see. It’s the film we have been waiting for. There is a magical quality to the relationship of a father and his child, and so many of us have tried to figure out the trick. What is it? The Wrestler and his daughter can’t answer this question. But their dynamic sure can reach right inside us and let us know this: one, we are not alone and two, often there are not happy endings. Our journey with our Dad can end as sad as it grew to become somewhere, or is it all the way, along the road. Oh! How we yearn for acceptance and love and time and Oh! how we can be left wanting, even as we say it: “get out!” How can we say it to the one we most want to come in? It’s magic and we haven’t quite figured out the trick.

In closing, I’ll tell you this: these 1 hour and 50 minutes are ripe with the kind of content that can cause a man to think about things he shouldn’t. Don’t take your kids to see it, unless you’re the kind of Dad who hasn’t taken your kids to a movie in a very, very long time and if you don’t they will keep on hating you. There is violence, foul language, and strippers and poles. But the truly broken down don’t obsess about those things. There is so much more at stake here. Sin is a given and all its filth is on display here. That is why I love The Wrestler. Because sin is a curse, sin is the degradation of women, sin is addiction, sin is violent, but sin is also abandonment, sin is looking in the mirror and realizing you are scum, and sin is thinking no one cares and no one ever will care. 

Sin is raw and real, but thanks be to God. Forgiveness is realer still. And maybe that’s why we hope that the jump from the top rope wasn’t his last.

The End (or was it?)