Inspector George Gently - Series 7 - Son of a Gun

My review of last week's episode: Gently Among Friends

Perhaps the greatest irony of Inspector George Gently is that its tragedy always stems from its basic conservatism. A thing cannot be tragic unless it is considered an anomaly. To quote C.S. Lewis: "A man does not call a line crooked unless he has some idea of a straight line." This show has always remembered what a straight line looked like. Gently Upside Down, an episode back in series 4, ends with a young woman, Hazel, berating a failed authority figure: she makes it clear that he was meant "to take care of us, not use us." That should be the natural state of the world.

This series has spanned the whole decade of the 1960s, and Hazel was hardly the only iconoclast. But these children railing against their fathers are never righteous heroes. They're always broken, and even if they wish to transcend "the system," they still display a tangible hunger for the world before it was fallen. They hate their fathers, but want to impress them. They are not men but stunted children desiring attention.

The Mirror - Zerkalo - (1975) - Movie Review

It’s much easier to respect Andrei Tarkovsky than it is to like him. My first introduction to his filmography was Stalker, a vaguely Soviet-period sci-fi philosophical road movie about three men and their journey into a mystical, Area 51-esque underworld called The Zone. The Mirror, on the other hand, mostly keeps its feet firmly on the ground. A semi-autobiographical story, it has a strong sense of historical place (Soviet Russia in the 40’s, 60’s and 70’s).  It feels like the more accessible of the two films, despite its complex, abstract nature, and it is a strange but chillingly beautiful movie.

The friend with whom I saw the film said it came into being because Tarkovsky was trying to exorcise his recurring dreams (he was successful.) It’s true, the story feels like a vast, puzzling experience of catharsis, though relief is mingled with the bittersweet dissatisfaction of loss.

The main character is Alexei “Alyosha”, a thinly veiled representation of Tarkovsky himself. Many of Alexei’s problems stem from his troubled past, and he (or the camera, at least) goes back to several periods in his life, attempting to untangle memory from truth. Tarkovsky’s tracking shots, moving slowly through the doors of a house, have an entrancing quality, drawing us into a world which feels four-dimensional, beckoning us inside a fully-realized, tangible space.

A Peck on the Cheek (Kannathil Muthamittal) - Movie Review

When I approach foreign films, I always try my best to shelve cultural criticisms and accept it on its own terms. To some extent this is impossible, though it's much easier with European films than Asian ones. I have enough of an American need for emotionalism to feel like Russian characters are more like walking, talking existential crises than actual human beings. Indian films, on the other hand, indulge so deeply in sentimentality that I find it next to impossible to attach any real value to their emotion. Does this mean I can’t appreciate Russian or Indian films? No (for instance, I quite liked Kin-Dza-Dza!) but makes it harder. A Peck on the Cheek is difficult to review, just because it's so far outside my preferences and familiarity, but though my standards of measure may be Western, I have no others, and they are what I use.

Amudha is a precocious, petite, Sri Lankan version of Ferris Bueller, from hating her teacher, to delivering an introductory, breaking-the-fourth-wall monologue and being the center of a huge musical number. Everything is about Amudha; she's the heroine and she knows it.

But the film isn't really about Amudha (or it shouldn't be); it's much bigger than her blissful childhood. After an opening, introducing a pair of star-crossed lovers (her real parents) in a war-zone, we slip entirely into Amudha's world, which has all the cheesiness and extravagance of a Disney cartoon. Still, the introduction remains as a solemn reminder that there are things happening outside this children's story, and unlike Ferris Bueller, Amudha will eventually have to engage with this.

Ragamuffin - Movie Review

Well-known skeptic David Hume once traveled twenty miles to hear celebrity evangelical George Whitefield preach. When asked if he believed what Whitefield said, Hume replied: "No. But he does."

If there was anything I could tell about Rich Mullins, it was that he did. That's impossible to fake, and Ragamuffin, the indie biopic of Mullins's life, doesn't. However, it has its moments.

Beginning in Rich's troubled childhood on a mid-western farm, the film stretches through college, his musical career, and retirement to a Navajo reservation in New Mexico. One of the most significant problems is pacing, and I'd say that at least half an hour could have been lost with no ill effects.

While quickly proving that it is no bright, sunny Christian flick, Ragamuffin does at times spin into the opposite pitfall of self-important hipsterism. Michael Koch is impressive, given his meager film experience, but he can't quite play someone as sincere as Rich (I mean, how can you be a sincere impersonator?) Koch's character is angsty, angry and considers himself a free spirit. And while I didn't know him personally, that wasn't my impression of Rich Mullins.

The Incredibles - Review and Expectations

I recently rewatched Brad Bird's The Incredibles, and was left with one impression: that this film was amazing when I first watched it ten years ago...and it's still amazing, if not more so. While in the midst of this revelation, lo and behold if a sequel wasn't announced, to my deep worry.

The thing is, the first film was so close to perfect. It remains one of my favorite Pixar films, a tightly-scripted, beautifully "shot" action movie that has so many truly human relationships that it puts the majority of live-action films to shame. True, it's not a very original premise - family with supernatural abilities attempt to negotiate ordinary life - but never has it been accomplished so convincingly.

It begins like any other superhero story, with excitement and one-liners and spectacular urban destruction. But fifteen years after this comic book world of heroes and villains, Mr. and Mrs. Incredible - alias Bob and Helen Parr - are living in a cramped suburb with three boisterous kids. Bob works for a sleazy insurance company; Helen changes diapers and wearily makes trips to the principal's office. The irony is thick, and extremely effective.

Saving Private Ryan - Movie Review

Steven Spielberg has always had a penchant for the grandiose. It is very much on display in Saving Private Ryan, both in the enormous scope of the project and the scale of violence. At the time of its release, this film was hailed as markedly graphic. Watching it today, after the last decade of Tarantino and the desensitization that accompanies that, it's hard to comment, but it is still shocking and unlike films like Braveheart, it imbues every death with importance, even those of faceless soldiers on the beaches of Normandy. 

Certainly unlike Braveheart, it has enough respect for the enemy to not draw them as one-dimensional Disney villains. They are Nazis, but they are human beings. (It was clear, to me at least, that the one cruel decision made by a Nazi was impersonal and almost accidental, once again driving home the point that in wartime, there is no time to stop and think, to pause and pick out one man in the mayhem.)

Catch Me if You Can - Movie Review

I remember years back when my dad told me about the remarkable exploits of Frank Abagnale Jr. Abagnale was little older than I was, but he led a successful life of crime, impersonating an airplane pilot, a pediatrician, and a lawyer. I was fascinated.

So apparently was Steven Spielberg, who adapted the conman's life into a film in 2002, starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Tom Hanks.

Frank Jr. starts his life in the center of the 1950s American Dream. His father (a very good Christopher Walken) is a successful businessman, his mother a beautiful Frenchwoman. But one day, Frank Sr. can't charm his way out of his troubles with the IRS. It turns out Mrs. Abagnale isn't so charmed with Frank Sr. as she is with the American Dream, and the cracks are beginning to show. Divorce and loss of innocence. Frank Jr. can't take it, so he starts to run, desperate to renew his lost childhood. DiCaprio is particularly good in the role, concocting just the right mix of charm, innocence, and immaturity.