Documentary group

I'm talking about the film, The Beauty Academy of Kabul, one of my favorite documentaries we've shown at the group so far.

A little France in MN

Last night Annie surprised me by arranging for her sister to babysit the kids. She took me on a date to a trendy little French bar/restaurant called Salut then to a French film - Ne le dis à Personne - playing right around the corner in one of my favorite theaters.

Annie's feeling her freedom now that Ian has moved on to solid foods and formula; she went all out and got a steak chased by a Cosmopolitan, which she said made her tipsy but I think she was hamming it up a bit. The film was a tad heavy and left me feeling like I had sand in my bathing suit, but it was excellent being able to stay out late on a warm summer night with my best friend. And you just gotta love that quote in the picture. (You have to click on it so you can see who said it.)

Why I went to see Tropic Thunder - Part III

First, a word about the Perry brothers. Their in-your-face style of humor isn't for everyone. I like much of it, but they can definitely be offensive, sometimes downright jerks (if you keep reading, you'll see why I think it is justifiable for me to call them "jerks"). Which brings me to my final point: "Is it OK to laugh?"

Andrew Terjesen, Assistant Professor of Philosophy at Rhodes College, tackles the subject of offensive humor by asking, "Why is it not OK to laugh at mean-spirited humor (like racist jokes), but it is OK to laugh at parodies of it?" He says that it's because "parodies of mean-spirited humor are at the expense of mean-spirited people."

So is it OK to make fun of mean-spirited people? I think so. If it's for their own good and the good of those around them. Making fun of people is only acceptable if the people at the butt of joke have the potential to change. That's why it isn't ethical to make fun of people with intellectual disabilities or because of the color of a person's skin. They have no way of changing who they are. But a person who makes fun of a disabled person can change, and humor is a powerful tool in helping bring about that change.

Terjesen also says, "Since parodies of mean-spirited humor target mean-spirited people we ought to laugh at the parodies. By laughing at them we are reinforcing the idea that no one should be like them."

Ben Stiller has repeated over and over that Tropic Thunder is not mean-spirited. How can we differentiate between parodies of mean-spirited behavior and those that pretend to be? To do this, we have to look at Stiller's intent as well as his past treatment of humor.

Stiller says that the Hollywood system and narcissistic actors are the butt of the joke. And if we accept that it is OK to make fun of those who can change their behaviors, and we also agree that it is good for them to change their behavior, then we should be able to agree that Stiller is justified in making prima donna actors the butt of the joke. For their own good, and the good of society.

What about Simple Jack? Is Stiller making fun of people with intellectual disabilities, or is he making fun of actors who go too far in their portrayal of those with disabilities? If he is indeed making fun of the disabled, then he is wrong. I assert that he is doing what he says he is doing and to back this up, we have to look at his past.

Stiller has been making parodies since the 1980's when he did The Ben Stiller Show. His parody of 90210 is a classic and rightly mocks those who are self-absorbed. There's Something about Mary, Meet the Parents, Reality Bites, The Heartbreak Kid, Zoolander, Night at the Museum. While much of the humor in his films is crass, I think you would be hard pressed to make the argument that they are mean-spirited. So after nearly 20 years of parody, is it fair to make the claim that Stiller has crossed the line? I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt.

I've read many posts that say, "So what if it's a parody? Lots of people won't get it and will think it's OK to make fun of people with Down syndrome or intellectual disabilities." But Terjesen asks, "Does it mean that because some people will laugh at something for the wrong reasons that you shouldn't do it?" In other words, if something could possibly be misunderstood, does that mean it shouldn't be done? There is always going to be potential for abuse. There are going to be a lot of people reading this post who will misunderstand me. Does that mean I shouldn't write it? Of course not.

A last thought from Terjesen, "Without parody, we lose an effective way of not only making fun of the mean-spirited (and therefore of publicly disapproving of them) but also of getting them to realize their own folly (as they begin to realize what they are really laughing at)."

What about the word "retard?"

Now that we understand (if you agree with what I've said thus far) the world that Stiller has created on the screen, we have the proper context with which to correctly interpret how the word "retard" is used. "Never go full retard" is uttered by a delusional actor (Downey's character) who is referencing other "serious" actors (like Tom Hanks and Sean Penn). Who is the butt of the joke? The "retarded?" Or the actors (Hanks and Penn)? I assert that it is the latter, thus the term, in this context, is justified.

That said, I do take the film to task for one damning scene that is mean-spirited and crosses the line (based on the butt of the joke being someone who cannot change who they are.) The scene(s) both involve Matthew McConaughey. I'm sure you've read about them. McConaughey, who plays Stiller's agent, shows disappointment with having a child with apparent Down syndrome. I especially take Stiller to task for the final scene in the film, which received a huge laugh by the audience when I saw it. McConaughey is sitting on his private jet and gives an obvious look of disappointment in the direction of his son, who is sitting looking out the window quietly.

Why is this mean-spirited? Who's the butt of the joke? True, McConaughey is portrayed as a shallow, money hungry, insecure agent so the argument could be made that we are laughing at his lack of character. But it doesn't play that way and needs to be challenged.

Why have I devoted so much time and thought to this movie? I felt I had to since I am in the minority. I understand the motivations behind the boycott; please believe me that I do. How many times have I seen that frozen smile creep onto a stranger's face when they suddenly sense something is "different" about Ian. I want the world to see what a neat little guy he is, want them to know how he's changed my life for the better. I don't want him to be called "retard," but I also don't want him to be called "jerk" or any other disparaging word (unless he's being a jerk). And I can't help but feel that this boycott will alienate Ian even more. Now people may fidget even more around him or avoid him altogether for fear of offending him. People on the other side of the protests may avoid me even more because they aren't sure how not to offend me.

We need laughter. We need satire. And we need Ben Stiller.

Why I went to see Tropic Thunder - Part II

I was all set to write a long post about not giving power to certain words, about letting people with Down syndrome speak for themselves, about how I believe the boycott is further alienating people with intellectual disabilities from others, about how the use of over-the-top parodies can reveal hidden truths. But then the Perry brothers stole my, err, thunder.


While I don't agree with their mostly playful call to "boycott the boycotters," I do agree with their assertions that words only have the power we give them what Ben Stiller intended has been misrepresented. (I edited this because I think that words possess a power beyond what we give them, which I hope to expand on another day.)

I wanted to make up a shirt for Ian to wear on the Buddy Walk that said, "Does this shirt make me look retarded?" but Annie threatened to boycott me. Besides, I'll wait until Ian is old enough to make his own statements.

Next, "Is it OK to laugh at that?"

Why I went to see Tropic Thunder - Part I

(It didn't start out this way, but this is turning into a three-part post. So if you find yourself getting upset with something I've said, I hope you will indulge me until the end. If you're still upset, well, we'll take it from there I suppose.)

I went to see Tropic Thunder last night. The theater was packed, the majority of the audience young guys, probably in their twenties, many with dates. There were also groups of girls sprinkled here and there. I saw a few "older" people, like, in their forties (we're so old), but not many. It was approaching 9pm, after all.

I've been following the call for a national boycott on most of the blogs that I frequent, as well as many of the excellent links provided by Patricia Bauer's website. I watched the interviews with Ben Stiller on Good Morning America and on Nightline, as well as watched the various reports on CNN concerning the protests. The editor of the online magazine that I just started contributing to also called for a boycott, as did all the other contributors. I read how the Special Olympics, ARC and many Down syndrome organizations support the boycott, and have even launched a new campaign to help bring an end to the use of the "R" word, as it's often called.

I've also read literally dozens of well-written, thoughtful, provocative and heartfelt posts on blogs that I subscribe to via Google Reader, many of them angry, others hurt, most just wanting to support their children, as I do.

But after seeing Tropic Thunder, I still cannot support the boycott. Nor can I sign a petition calling for a ban of the "R" word.

First, my thoughts on the film. I did laugh. It is funny. Robert Downey Jr. is amazing to watch, Ben Stiller's "straight man" comedic timing is spot on and Tom Cruise, well, his performance will haunt me for quite some time as he conjures up one of the funniest characters I've seen on the screen in a long time. Aside from his performance on Oprah, of course. But the film wasn't that funny. Not side-splitting funny like I've read in some reviews. Maybe I wasn't in the right frame of mind, or was wondering how I was going to pay for Ian's hearing aids or maybe it was just after 9pm and past my bedtime.

And the satire? I'm sorta-kinda in the biz; I've worked with many local prima donna actors and producers. Shot some behind the scene footage on some low budget films. So I got all the film industry references, and they were mostly funny, but more "Yeah, I know someone like that" kind of funny. I got the references to big budget films, to sequels, to high-maintenance actors, etc. But the use of irony and parody were, well, a bit weak. The Family Guy is much better satire; it's tighter, smarter, more self-aware and sheds more light on hidden truths, which is what comedy and satire aspires to do. At least good comedy. The film's saving grace were the performances, the high budget feel and just enough laughs to keep you wanting more.

I give the film three out of five Rambo knives.

(Next: Simple Jack and "retards")

Long Way Down

Went to see a special screening of Long Way Down in the theater last night before it's released on DVD. Follows Ewan McGregor and his friend Charley Boorman as they ride motorcycles from Scotland to South Africa. Favorite part was when Ewan visited the site of the original Star Wars film in Tunisia and stood next to his poster without being recognized by any of the many passing tourists.

Six degrees of separation: My documentary filmmaker friend John who I sometimes blog about was shooting for another program in Africa. He is a fan of the first film Long Way Round which followed the two as they circumnavigated the globe. Anyway, John was in an airport in Africa and saw Ewan and Charley at the end of the terminal, dressed for the ride. He shouted their names but couldn't get their attention.

Don't know if that really qualify as "six degrees..." but it's a fun story nonetheless. I recommend both series of films for some good vicarious travel.

Escapes

I bailed out of work early yesterday; all the deadlines and constant stress was causing me to lose sleep. I was up for four hours in the middle of Monday night, lying on the couch, trying to switch off my thoughts. I shouldn't have gotten into the Frontline documentary on PBS called Bush's War, which is excellent. Highly recommend it, and you can watch it online.

So I just threw on my jacket and headed to the nearest movie theater. That's my chief escape. That, and philosophy books. Ahh, a cold winter's day, a hot latte and a good book on the ontological hermeneutics expressed in the existential-phenomenological works of Ricoeur. Bliss.

I quickly perused my choice of films and decided on The Band's Visit. Man, am I glad I did. Fantastic film! A+. Five stars. An Israeli film, it's about loneliness and connecting with others, even if just for a brief moment. It's one of those films that makes you ache and brings you joy, all at the same time. Films like these are why I'm in the field I'm in. How's that for a rave review?!

I haven't been going to enough movies lately. If I don't do the little things that bring me joy, I always seem to burn out. Now I just need to find a new philosophy book to read.

Speaking of which, I bought The Philosophy of Jesus by Boston College professor of philosophy, Peter Kreeft. Kreeft isn't for everyone; while mostly funny and witty, he can be a little dogmatic and combative at times. But I've always learned from his books and look forward to this one. I'm also reading Deep River by the Catholic Japanese writer Shusaku Endo. His book Silence (which Martin Scorsese is hoping to convert into a film) is one of my all-time favorites, and I can't wait to finish this one.

This week is much more relaxed, so I hope to do more writing. Hope to, anyway.

Avenue Montaigne

The French film Avenue Montaigne has stayed with me since I watched it on Saturday. I'm always looking for films that deal with the subjects of desire, transition, new beginnings and hope. The fact that it was shot in Paris is an added bonus. In a world that often seems dominated by masks and life on the surface, it's small films like these - flawed as they may be - that reassure me that there are others who also aspire to live deeply.

Film recommendations for the weekend

If you're one of the fortunate ones who actually get to watch films in movie theaters, I've got two recommendations. Persepolis is playing in many art house theaters and is an amazing story about a young girl growing up in Iran during the 70's and 80's. It's so well done that you actually forget that you're watching an animated film and truly identify with the characters.

The second film, which still might be showing in some cities, is The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, based on a true story about a man with a debilitating disability. One of the most visceral films I've experienced, it is going up on my Top 10 list of favorite films. Made me love being alive.

If you're stuck at home, try The Namesake, a film about a family from India trying to assimilate to life in the US. From the same director who made Monsoon Wedding, another must-see.

What is it?

[Updated at the bottom of the post]

(This post contains some descriptions of a film that I attended last night - featuring a cast comprised almost entirely of people with Down syndrome - which might offend some of my readers.)

I got into an argument with Crispin Glover last night.

Most people remember him from Back to the Future and Charlie's Angels, but he's trying to change that.

He's here in Minneapolis showing his film What Is It?, a surrealist film featuring a cast comprised almost entirely of people (most are non-actors) with Down syndrome. Preceding the film, Crispin performed an hour-long live dramatic presentation of his "Big Slide Show" which features readings and illustrations from eight of his books.

The NC-17 film centers around the exterior and interior journey of a young man with Down syndrome. Glover appears in the film playing the role of "Dueling Demi-God Auteur and The young man's inner psyche." The main character is on a quest to replace his pet snail that he killed by smashing it against a pane of glass. He has an obsession with snails, and spends much of the film pouring salt over them and watching them shrivel up and die or cutting them with a razor blade. During this quest, his inner life of torment is represented by two dueling Demi-Gods - Chrispin, sitting on a throne surrounded by concubines with Down syndrome, and a white man in black face paint who injects the blood from snails into his face. The main actor's mind is represented by a cloudy realm with naked women on all fours in elephant masks, a shot of Shirley Temple juxtaposed over swastikas, a graphic sex scene involving a man with cerebral palsy, with music composed of Klan racist country songs and tracks by late Church of Satan high priest Anton LaVey as well as Charles Manson. Back in the "real world," the main character visits his other friends, all with Down syndrome, puts snails on their arms and then "burns" them with salt, and the film ends when the boy kills many of his friends by hitting them over the head with a shovel or bricks.

After the film, Glover opened the room to Q & A. I asked the first question. "I have a young son with Down syndrome. Could you please help me understand how you can believe that you did not exploit all the actors with Down syndrome?"

Glover has been showing this film to audiences across the US and he said that this was the first time anyone had asked him that question [during the Q & A; he has been asked about it by film critics and by individuals, but usually the questions center around why he used actors with Down syndrome, not the ethical choice of showing them in that light]. He said that everyone is usually up-in-arms about the killing of live snails. He went on to justify his motives by saying that he wanted to show a world seen from an outsider's perspective and that people with Down syndrome have this perspective. He also said that he had gotten permission to use the mostly non-actors from their "caregivers."

I followed up his response. "If I show an image of George W. Bush followed by an image of an oil well followed by a shot of a dollar bill, then I am making connections by simply creating a visual relationship between the images. When you place an person with Down syndrome in a world of sadistic cruelty to animals, explicit sex, racist sentiments, Nazi symbols and a circus-like atmosphere, isn't it possible that you are creating a relationship between these images?"

He answered that he wasn't making a film about Down syndrome, and that Down syndrome is never addressed in the film, but that he was showing actors with Down syndrome in a positive light, like when he showed the scene of real-life boyfriend and girlfriend in a prolonged kiss followed by simulated fellatio.

Other people began to speak up against the ideas put forth in the film. At least five other articulate viewers (some a bit annoying) asked good questions about the social responsibility of the filmmaker, the flippant or uncreative use of racism and Nazi symbols (which he denied) and the lack of a coherent statement or viewpoint. Glover got more animated by each question, although he kept assuring the audience that he liked the questions. But he also kept reiterating that while he had encountered some angry people in the past, that most times they weren't quite such a hostile audience.

I asked a third question a little later. "You keep saying that you are trying to address the nature of taboos, and the "simple" good versus evil lines that are drawn by most corporately-made films. You want this film to, as you quoted from Nietzsche, go Beyond Good and Evil. Do you think the actors with Down syndrome were able to understand how you were portraying them since it is difficult for many people with mental disabilities to grasp the abstract concepts you are addressing? If they couldn't grasp these concepts, I believe you are responsible for exploiting these people."

By this time, I felt like Glover was getting tired of my questions, but he remained calm, respectful and articulate, if a bit long-winded. He again said that he has been showing this film for over a year and that he wanted to show the people with Down syndrome's perspective and that the New York Times called him an Auteur. He said that he didn't hurt the "actors," that they had fun on the set playing around and that their guardians signed off on the film.

I blurted out, "The guardians were wrong." (I was getting a bit worked up by this point, but I do hate it when I let my emotions take over.)

He shot back, "Maybe, but I stand by the film. The only wrong thing, if there is such a thing, that I did when making this film, is kill the snails. That was wrong. This film is part of a trilogy. In the final film, which I am still writing, and will feature more people with Down syndrome, I think then it will be evident what I am trying to say."

Fade to black.

(All the quotes are summaries that attempt to capture the spirit of the questions. Some of the questions and answers have been condensed. If you want to see the trailer, which features disturbing imagery and nudity, you can see it here. Glover's website, also provocative, is here. I also want to make sure I represent Crispin Glover's reasons for making the film accurately; I believe the best way to engage people and ideas is not to turn them into caricatures. He talked about his film in detail and the reasons why he made it here. To see a short excerpt from his "Big Slide Show," see here.)

Caos Calmo

I am very excited to see that Nanni Moretti's latest film, Caos Calmo (Quiet Chaos), is due to be released. It may take awhile for a subtitled version to make it to market, but I'm thrilled nonetheless. This story is based on Sandro Veronesi's novel about a successful manager who tries to help his 10-year-old daughter cope with her mother's death.

Lost in absurdity

In my previous life, before Ian, I often used to blog about my favorite filmmaker, Nanni Moretti. (You can click on the "Moretti" label at the bottom of this post to see all my previous entries on him). I own almost all his films, and still want to organize a Moretti film festival here in Minneapolis.

One of the things that I love most about his films is how he captures those feelings of being lost in a world that often appears quite absurd. He does so with wit and playfulness. Here are a few clips:

Palombella Rossa - The Pool
Palombella Rossa - The Car
Caro Diario - The Cafe

The weekend

I had wanted to leave work early on Wednesday for a few hours with the family before boarding a plane for Peoria, but I had a late meeting with a client in the edit suite. The flight down was quick, the ride in the cold, clear night aboard a twin propeller puddle jumper smooth. I sat alone, my traveling companion a few seats ahead. He is a year older then me, an independent contractor, a middle-man who negotiated the details of this particular job.

The airport in Peoria is small - intimate. Deserted. We rent a car, find our camera equipment, search for our hotel in the darkness. A few wrong turns.

I am alone in my room, which has a small kitchen. It is unbearably hot. I lie in my boxers on the bed, only to realize I have left all my toiletries in the car. Rather than locating my co-worker, I fight with a vending machine for a bottle of shampoo.

I stay up late watching a movie that makes me so angry that I watch all the credits to determine who directed the film. Romeo is Bleeding is such a bleak and violent and numbing film that I vow to write a letter to the director when I get home. (I looked him up, but now just pity him, based on his track record.)

I wake often, as is the case when I know I must be somewhere early. We meet our contact at 7am in a Bob Evans restaurant, where the pancakes are so ridiculously big that I cannot finish them with a clear conscience. Our contact is about my age, thin, a company man. Wears a jacket, hat and belt buckle sporting the company logo.

We drive to the facility where we are supposed to get shots of large pieces of equipment in motion. Most of the day will be spent shooting in a large aircraft hanger-sized "shed" instead of out in the cold, which I have no problem with.

Our first task is to outfit the equipment with new logos. We find some scrapers to remove the existing logos and chip and scrub and paint. We prepare the shooting location by planting a huge tree stump in the dirt floor of the "shed." We film a piece of equipment demolish the tree stump in a flurry of wood chips and smoke and dust. We film another machine as it grinds up a huge concrete slab we have buried in the red dirt. I am sweating, yelling directions to the operator.

Lunch. Four hours until we fly back home. We pound down the food and rush back for the remaining hours, fixing broken machines, shooting outside, demoing some simulators, getting shots from up high in a cherry picker.

It is time to go. We say a quick goodbye and are back at the airport fifteen minutes later, where we quickly board the flight home. We have the same stewardess, who remembers me.

There were a few moments during the shoot where I stood alone in the enormous "shed", surrounded by noise and machines and shouting people when I wondered if God was in the moment, was present, cared. Did what I was doing matter?

I got home at 9pm and was greeted with "Daddy!" from Silvi's room. She was jumping up and down in her crib; what a wonderful greeting. Needless to say, she slept in our bed that night. She was entirely too excited go back to her room.

Friday morning and I was back in the edit suite early. I had an 11am deadline to get a 10-minute video up on our FTP site for the client to review with the powers that be. It was a race against the clock, and I finished with only minutes to spare, while have to cut a few corners.

I went to lunch with a few of the guys at work, only to receive a frantic call on the cell phone from my boss, saying they were having problems downloading the video on the client's end. I talked them through it over the phone; Friday's are Chinese buffet lunches and I wasn't about to interrupt that for a trip back to the office.

The client called at two and questioned the shortcuts I had taken. I explained that the final video would be polished and that I had already addressed the issue. A few other changes, and I put the final video back on the FTP site. I started another project, a dvd with a complicated menu that I must program. But I am exhausted from the shoot on Thursday and leave work early.

I stop on the way home for pizza and three movies from Blockbuster; Who is Camus, Anyway?, When Nietzsche Wept and Oceans 13. I watch the Nietzsche film first and end up fast forwarding most of it. It is based on a book by the same name that I really liked, and is a melodramatic mess and disappointing. I start the Camus film while Annie is feeding Ian and fall asleep halfway through.

Saturday is wall-to-wall activities. Annie and her sisters are decorating cookies at her parents, and so I take Silvi for one of our cultural outings. One of my greatest desires for her is that she will experience different cultures. I take her to a mixed neighborhood which is comprised largely of people from India and the Middle East. We eat in a wonderful deli that is part grocery store and is frequented by immigrants from the Middle East. Rice and curry and potatoes and passion fruit and yogurt with a soap opera in Arabic blaring in the background. A prayer room and call to prayer over the loudspeakers. Silvi seems to enjoy these outings. I hope they stay with her.

Nap time, and then a walk to the church up the street where Silvi is practicing for her part as a lamb in the Christmas pageant. Her costume is adorable. She is shy and does not want to participate at first. But after a few songs, she forgets about the larger kids with staffs that are being swung about like lightsabers.

The Christmas pageant is in the Episcopal Church where Annie works one day a week, taking care of the children and helping make ends meet. It is the perfect part-time job as it is only a block away and Silvi and Ian can accompany her and have fun playing with the other kids.

After rehearsal, we drive over to Annie's parents for supper and an early celebration for those who will be out of town over the holidays. The house is overrun with screaming kids, who love to run the loop from the dining room, through the kitchen and into the living room. Over and over and over. Each lap louder than the previous one.

We eat the decorated cookies and have leftovers from Thanksgiving. (surprisingly good for being frozen so long) Then home for the night, where I try to finish my Camus movie, to no avail. The title is very misleading, since it is a Japanese film about the youth culture, which would have been fine but I thought it was a documentary for some reason. I fell asleep around 8:30.

This morning was the rush to get to the church for the pageant, where we were met by my parents and Annie's brother and sister and her husband and kids. Silvi did great for most of her "performance" and I got some excellent video footage of her with her finger halfway up her nose. Numerous times. Annie finally went up and motioned for Silvi to come down off the stage as it was evident that she was DONE and the stage director(s) were having a hard time continuing to convince Silvi to stay.

She was definitely the cutest girl up there, nose picking and all.

Lunch down the street at Famous Dave's BBQ. Naps. We all slept in our bed this afternoon. Even George, our cat, slept at the foot of the bed.

Then another daddy-daughter date. I took Silvi to see The Golden Compass, which she seemed to really enjoy, "mean monkey" and all. I debated not taking her because I knew it would have some scary moments, but she seems to be taken with scary things. I was watching Jurassic Park one day and she wandered through and absolutely loved it. (I fast forwarded the more gory scenes.) Another one of my desires for Silvi is that she will develop a love of different viewpoints and perspectives. I had heard that The Golden Compass was kind of the anti-Narnia; the film is based on the best-selling books by an outspoken atheist who, according to the news article I read, has a strong aversion to C.S. Lewis' stories and perspective.

You might be surprised at the questions a two-and-a-half year old will ask. "Daddy, why was the monkey being mean?"
"Well, some people are just bad."
"Why?"
"That's a good question, babe. Some people are hurt inside, so they act bad to try to keep from being hurt anymore."
"Why are they hurt inside?"

You can see that her young mind was really stretching her dad's ability to answer some of life's most difficult questions. I need to read the books to understand what the author is asserting, but the representation of organized religion in the film were both accurate and caricatures in the same breath. I enjoyed the film, and will have to mull it over before commenting further.

I'm at the coffee shop around the corner from our place. Jazz is playing on the speakers. I just had a chai latte. It's 9pm on the dot, and I'm going home to watch Ocean's 13 for the first time.

Night.

Moretti's best (thus far)

I've received and watched Il Caimano, Moretti's latest. Not his best work, but entertaining and thought-provoking. My favorite Nanni Moretti films, in this order:

1. Caro Diario - A classic. Shot in three "chapters," this film is probably my all-time favorite film. There are so many quiet - and funny - moments as Moretti playfully cruises around Rome on his Vespa, looks for a tranquil spot to write his script, and deals with the frustration of illness.
   
2. Palombella Rossa - Hard to find but well worth it. Moretti is a middle-aged water polo player who has lost his memory. A metaphor for the radical political change in Italy, it's about adapting to an ever-changing world.
3. Aprile - Moretti stars as a film director who doesn't want to grow up, and he's having a son. Filmed over 4 years, it captures many small moments that make up a well-lived life.
4. The Son's Room - A heartbreaking drama about dealing with the loss of a child. Moretti's most serious role, and one of his best. I would put this higher in my rankings, but it's a difficult film to watch, whereas his previous films can be watched multiple times.
5. Il Caimano - A drama that examines the rise of the past Italian Prime Minister, Silvio Berlusconi. But it's more than that. It's also a drama about a family falling apart. There were tender parts, and some funny ones, but I'll have to watch it again to see what I missed. It helps to read up on the last few years of politics in Italy to get some of the references.

I currently have La Seconda Volta on order, a film produced by Moretti's film company and starring him as well.

Philosophy Film Database

I found a great resource that lets you search for films that explore various philosophical issues. You can browse by topic or theme or philosophical field.

Check it out here, then go rent a movie.

Iraq

Tonight we are showing My Country, My Country at the First Friday Films gathering. It's getting more difficult to show films at the church as we are gaining more visibility and are eliciting a few strong reactions. This month's selection is upsetting a few people because of the non-Christian perspective on the war in Iraq. One person who has attended the church for 13 years wrote a strong letter asking that only Christian films be shown in "his" church. Last month a few people got upset about the humanitarian slant in the particular film. Another small group of people want us to use more Scripture. The month before that we got a long letter denouncing the "pro-Palestinian" view of the film Gaza Strip.

We've been doing this for over a year and we've gotten one positive email. Oh well. That's how it goes when you try to do anything, I suppose. Lots of naysayers.

But people keep coming.

Snowed in

Got about a foot of snow over the weekend. Good weekend to rent a movie and watch the Oscars. (although I made it about an hour and decided to read instead. Melissa Etheridge for best song? Ouch!) We watched Lautlos, a German thriller about a hitman, and Stick It, a teenie-bopper film (very well done and stylistic) about a rebellious gymnast.

And, to quote the famous poet, Forrest Gump, "that's all I have to say about that."

Trilogy

Most of you know that I co-host a monthly documentary group called First Friday Films where we meet and discuss various cross-cultural films. Some of them address issues of faith, most are just glimpses into how the rest of the world thinks and lives. We often conduct phone interviews with the directors, and the group is able to ask questions and interact. Last month we had over a hundred people show up.

It is a good thing, this documentary group. I believe that it is affecting some of the attendees, and that they will be better people because of it. That said, it has always been a dream of mine to host a film group in a more intimate setting, addressing the Big Questions as well as matters of the heart. One idea is to present four films by one of my favorite directors, Nanni Moretti. His films are small stories that are largely autobiographical snapshots of his life and thoughts. I would present these four films, in this order: Caro Diario, Palombella Rossa, Aprile, and The Son's Room. I may go into more detail about this a little later.

There are another three films which I think make an incredible trilogy: Lost in Translation, The Girl in the Cafe and My First Mister. They each share a common thread: Two people (an older man and a younger woman) find friendship in the midst of deep, undefined loneliness. These three films, placed side-by-side, are powerful and possess the ability to turn anger (often at the root of loneliness) into sadness. And it is in sadness that we are finally true.

Perhaps one day...

Avoiding work

Am trying to avoid working at this moment, and am succeeding wonderfully. "Smashing" success, to use a common British colloquialism. I'm scanning in more pictures for my "Photos" section (stop by), perusing YouTube (I stumbled across these four British clips; not for the easily miffed or the queasy), and, obviously, blogging.

The British clips reminded me of my outing to see Borat on Thanksgiving Day. Tracy, my sister, told me how much she and her husband laughed while watching Borat. (She also owns the film Se7en, which should have been a red flag.) After the meal, we brother-in-law's and father-in-law all went to see said movie, on my recommendation. Fortunately, my father-in-law slept for much of the film, as my brother-in-law's are no longer speaking to me. (well, they are, but they now question my taste in films; perhaps it was the recent outing to see Mel Gibson's Christmas family film, Apocalypto, that removed any doubts from their minds.)

I suppose, if one is called for, the moral of the story may go something like this: Borat was crude, and Gibson was rude, but rest assured, my sister is no prude.

No limits

One of my favorite movies is The Big Blue (the theatrical version, not the director's cut). It's the story about two competitive "free divers," also known as "no limits diving." A free diver is

one who tests how deep humans can go underwater or how long they can remain submerged--on a single gulp of air. "No limits" free divers go deeper than most. Wrapped around a weighted sled that slides on a cable, they plunge hundreds of feet down, then inflate an air bag that shoots them swiftly back to the surface. In the process, they withstand near-crippling water pressure; their lungs shrink to the size of baseballs; their hearts slow to 20 beats a minute; and their sinus cavities fill with salt water to keep their eardrums from exploding.

The above video is of the deepest dive in history by Patrick Musimu to an astounding 687 feet. It's best watched with the sound up.