Slow Zoom Towards the Mysterious Unseen
I wrote about a rather obscure short film called Wavelength and the way it parallels our own longing. Read the whole piece over at Mockingbird.
I wrote about a rather obscure short film called Wavelength and the way it parallels our own longing. Read the whole piece over at Mockingbird.
“We don’t do a lot of waiting nowadays. A few extra seconds of Internet load time merits a complaint call. We don’t like waiting, but we’re asked to do a lot of it. We especially don’t like waiting when it comes to movies. We tend to favor fast cuts and snappy punch lines. These movies “reward” the viewers (and also usually the characters) for their time by pairing questions with answers, effects with causes, and situations with explanations. There are actually storytelling formulas that dictate how long the viewer should be left to wonder before the truth is revealed, how long the protagonist should have to struggle before their want is achieved. This is effective storytelling, and a lot of fun, but sometimes we’re left to ask why our own lives aren’t resolving in this “normal” amount of time. The longer we wait, the more our faith is tested. We can’t skip to the end of our stories.”
Contact With Mystery
On Cormac McCarthy, Flannery O’Connor, and what 'The Revenant' misses on purpose, over at Christianity Today.
I wrote this piece on Cormac McCarthy, Flannery O’Connor, and what 'The Revenant' misses on purpose over at Christianity Today.
“Iñárritu doesn’t offer a deus ex machina solution to a problem his protagonist can’t solve. Rather, the climax is a form of grace that reveals a better resolution than Hugh determined to achieve. Usually the end of a story is about a giant choice that changes everything. Hugh makes a passive choice rather than an active one.”
Writing the Wound: Wim Wenders Narrates Grace
I wrote about Wim Wenders over at Mockingbird.
I wrote about Wim Wenders over at Mockingbird.
“The Salt of the Earth follows Brazilian photographer Sebastião Salgado’s global pursuit of compelling images and stories. His photo projects take him from the gold mines of his native country to post-genocide refugee camps in Rwanda. Although Salgado narrates most of the film, Wenders’s vision for and attraction to the content shape our reception of the story. Salgado was entranced by the sense of dislocation in the people he photographed, and Wenders in turn reveals this dislocation to the viewer. Near the beginning of the film, Salgado says that photography is “writing and rewriting the world with light and shadows.” ”
True Grit: Unlikely Redemption
The Coen Brothers like to redeem the most unlikely people.
The Coen Brothers like to redeem the most unlikely people. Their characters are always believable, but seldom people you would want to be. The main characters of O Brother, Where Art Thou? and Raising Arizona are both ex-convicts. In keeping, True Grit’s Rooster Cogburn (Jeff Bridges) is a one-eyed U.S. Marshall with a less than savory past. His life of bizarre showdowns and drunkenness is interrupted by a 14-year old girl on a mission. Maddie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld) wants picture-perfect revenge for her father’s killer, and she wants Rooster to help her see it done.
When the movie first begins, it feels too slow and rambling. There is little to like in the gruff, carelessly violent Rooster, or the rather aloof Texas Ranger LeBeouf (Matt Damon). Even Maddie could seem like an annoying little girl who doesn’t know her place. But as the roads get tougher and the dangers nearer, all three characters emerge with an increasingly endearing display of grit that is not unlike the gradual and halting evolution of their own relationships.
True Grit received ten Oscar nominations, including Best Director and Best Picture, but the movie is anything but showy. Joel and Ethan Coen convey a sense of dusty sparseness that is both realistic and alien. They almost deglamorize the wild west. Everything about the movie flees sentimentality and emotion. The only sense of intimacy we feel with the characters is during the moments of humor that flawlessly dot the script. All of this, including the formal speech (it is instead of it’s) used in the script seems to separate us from the characters, as if we are supposed to focus on something else.
What is beautiful about the film is that the central theme of revenge morphs inconspicuously into something like salvation. In saving Maddie’s life, we get the feeling that Rooster is trying to atone for his failures. The directors aptly capture the realism of such a story in the lack of a triumphant victory. There is nothing about the revenge in the end, it is about the friends made on the journey. The film does not build into a neatly packaged climax or conclude with all the loose ends tied. The ending is abrupt and pragmatic, as if Maddie herself had written it; for as she says, “time just gets away from us.” So it does, and maybe the Coen Brothers are doing their best to focus on the things that are really worth the time we have.
A Major Risk: What Liberal Arts Students Can Learn From Birdman
I wrote about faith and Birdman (2014) for my college newspaper, The Empire State Tribune.
I wrote about faith and Birdman (2014) for my college newspaper, The Empire State Tribune.
“Faith is the evidence of things unseen. Studying (or practicing) the humanities requires faith. It requires faith not only in your art, but faith that any art could be worth doing. When is it more than a hobby? When is it worth four years of education and hefty tuition prices? ”
Review: The Theory of Everything
The Aristotelian Triangle published my review of The Theory of Everything.
The Aristotelian Triangle published my review of The Theory of Everything.
“Instead of over-emphasizing the scientific component of the story, the film focuses on the human element – where the real discovery happens. It’s about wondering, yearning, and searching for answers. “Where there is life, there is hope” says Stephen.”