The King James Version of the Bible states: “Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.”  Every Protestant child, including myself, had the idea behind the verse, if not the verse itself, thwarted upon him or her throughout their early years.   And since everyone that experienced such an upbringing has at some point in their life been haunted by the thoughts of demons watching over them awaiting every opportunity to take advantage of every sin, however minor, it should surprise no one that a director like Sam Raimi would turn such an idea into a plot for a horror movie called Drag Me to Hell.

In Drag Me to Hell, Christine Brown (Alison Lohman) is a loan officer at a bank, seemingly too soft hearted to ever receive recognition for a promotion.  Mr. Jacks (David Paymer), her boss, would like to see her succeed, but he favors her co-worker, Stu (Reggie Lee), who is much more ambitious and has turned bootlicking into an art form.  As Christine sees that coveted promotion to Assistant Manager begin slipping away from her, she takes her frustration out upon an old and seemingly decrepit woman with one bad eye by the name of Mrs. Ganush (Lorna Raver) that comes to the bank begging for an extension on her house payment.  Since Christine refuses to budge to this obviously eccentric customer and humiliates this person by calling in security to take the old woman away, Mrs. Ganush places upon Christine the mother of all curses.  A Lamia is summoned up to harass Christine for three straight days and, if not appeased, than drag her into hell.  Unfortunately, before Christine can beg Mrs. Ganush to call off the demon, Mrs. Ganush dies – probably as a result of being evicted from the home in which she had lived for some thirty years.

Now Christine has a boyfriend named Clay Dalton (Justin Long) who, despite having a deep rational streak and an overbearing mother with incredible wealth, is absolutely devoted to Christine and would do whatever it took to help her out.  Clay is not convinced that Christine is in anyway haunted, but he does know that something is bothering her and humors her when she decides to seek the aid of a spiritualist by the name of Rham Jas (Dileep Rao).  Though Rham has a tendency to be a bit greedy and originally seem to perceive Christine’s predicament as a welcome opportunity to supplement his income, he is also a real believer in the occult and becomes convinced that Christine’s curse is very real.  After giving Christine a few recommendations that fail to rid Christine of the curse and after a few harrowing incidents that convince Rham that this is no ordinary demon that they are dealing with, Rham summons Shaun San Dea (Adrianna Barraza), a world class shaman, to attempt to get rid of this curse once and for all.  Sadly, Shaun San Dea – who had previously seen a Lamia drag a young child off to hell after that child stole some precious silver – was only temporarily successful at shooing the demon away.  Instead, the exertion of the exorcism was so great that Shaun San Dea collapsed and died.  Christine’s one remaining option was to give the way a button for which the curse revolved around to another individual with the knowledge that whoever takes the gift would receive her curse.  She thought of Stu, but didn’t have the heart to do this to him.  Instead, in the middle of the night, she digs up Mrs. Ganush’s grave and deposits the envelope in which the button was supposed to have been placed inside of Mrs. Ganush’s mouth.  Only the next day, when she goes on her rendezvous to meet Clay at the train station where they are to go off on a vacation, does she discover that Clay had the envelope that contained the button.  Since Christine is thus not able to rid herself from the curse, the Lamia then arrives to drag her to eternal damnation.

Though Drag Me to Hell is a horror movie and commercial blockbuster as well, this is a fairly well-made movie.  To begin with, it’s only 99 minutes long which is a positive.  Lorna Raver is excellently cast as the mysterious Mrs. Ganush, and Alison Lohman comes off as surprisingly tough when she needs to be towards the end of the movie when digging up Mrs. Ganush’s grave.  With talking goats, an odd assortment of characters that for some reason or other reside in Los Angeles and a take on the lighter side of animal sacrifices, the film contains a good deal more fun than one is accustomed to in this sort of genre.  I was a bit taken aback by critics accusing Raimi of using “gross-out” tactics or “cheesiness” to pull movie-goers into the theatre.  I admit that the soundtrack was a bit overdone at times with the use of loud noises, but with a PG-13 rating the visual effects are certainly no more filled with gore than what the average child could see on network television almost every night.  This is a horror movie that was never intended to be taken seriously, and the movie certainly complies with the modern day formula for that genre.  It just happens to do that with nothing that resembles wholesale slaughter. (I guess because of the assets of Drag Me to Hell I can forgive Sam Raimi for directing the Spider Man movies, though I won’t go as far as the Boston Globe which states: “ ‘Spider Man’ restored a kind of joyful sincerity to his [Sam Raimi’s] work.”  I’m not quite sure what that means.) 

I probably should mention that five years from now, almost everyone that ever watched Drag Me to Hell will forget that it ever existed.  This is only a minor objection since the same thing is true of every blockbuster that has been shown during the last couple of years - save a handful of movies that received some additional hype.  There has been an overkill of horror movies so that even the best of this genre get confused with the many imitations.  If not for the fact that Hitchcock directed it, most moviegoers would forget that Psycho was the film every other horror film director since has attempted to duplicate as far as film technique goes.  If Psycho had been directed with or without an anonymous director in 1980 instead of 1960, it too would have been mostly forgotten.  The barrage of computer generated special effects and sound systems that can make a noise sound like it has been generated from almost any location in the theatre has made almost every horror film seem almost a copy of one another.  So Drag Me to Hell, better than many films labeled “Best Picture” material and certainly better than 95% of all horror flicks (though this in itself is nothing worth boasting about), will have practically no significance in cinematic history.

I like this movie because it has somewhat of a moral while not at the same time pretending to be any sort of “message” film.  It does not bother me that at least temporarily Drag Me to Hell will pick up more money at the box office than any of the five films featured at the Academy Awards.  To “reap what we sow” is a great storyline for any horror film, but it works especially well here because it is obvious that the bank clerk gave into the temptation of ambition for perhaps once and the only time in her life.  In other horror films, the only motive for the consequences seems to be a sexually frustrated loser that understandably cannot find himself a date.  I’d say that Drag Me to Hell brought back a sort of “joyful sincerity” to Sam Raimi’s work that was missing in the three prior Spider-Man movies.

© Robert S. Miller 2009

Although I’m tired of neurotic middle-aged characters and put-off by scripts that are loaded with intellectual blather, I was delighted to discover that the film Sideways was actually less than half-bad.  Let’s consider the context of such movies as this.  Woody Allen made such storylines popular and usually funny.  Films like Network or Broadcast News were decent efforts that nevertheless now seem worn-out.   This formula started feeling false with the hyping of movies like The Big Chill and American Beauty.   Now we have to endure films like Knocked Up,   The 40 Year Old Virgin and American Wedding that are close to being one-hundred percent crass.  Some movie’ critics offhandedly dismiss viewers that shun such films by accentuating the kind of tolerance and daring that is required to enjoy them.  Or perhaps “tolerance” only refers to lack of discrimination and daring can be defined as the ability to digest anything rancid.  Anyway, it’s safe to say that the formula has now become overused.

Sideways is about two friends that decide to tour the wine country in central California.  Miles (Paul Giamatti) is an English teacher, an aspiring novelist and wine connoisseur.   Jack (Thomas Haden Church) is an actor that takes on bit parts on television or does voiceovers on television and radio advertisements.  Neither are particularly happy individuals.  Jack is about to get married, but to say that he fears commitment would be a great understatement.  Miles, still in the process of healing from a recent divorce, is to be Jack’s best man.  While Miles wants to use their trip as an opportunity to show Jack the majesty of the winemaking industry, Jack wants to use this trip as an opportunity to have one last wild fling before being condemned to the drudgery of marriage.  Jack shamelessly tries to bed almost every woman that he meets.  Miles wants to relax and make sense of the direction his life has taken.

The friends meet two women along the way.  Maya (Virginia Madsen) is recently divorced and another lover of the art of wine tasting.  She is essentially a good person and is obviously suited for someone like Miles.  Stephanie (Sandra Oh) is less discriminating than Maya and is willing to take Jack at his word.  It doesn’t take a lot of persuasion for Jack to convince Stephanie to sleep with him.  Matters become complicated when Miles confesses to Maya that Jack is about to get married.  Such information gets back to Stephanie who immediately proceeds to break Jack’s nose.  Jack, rather than learn his lesson, next takes a married woman to bed only to be discovered by the woman’s husband.  Miles, being the dutiful friend, helps Jack avoid any greater trouble.  However, in the process, a misunderstanding has erupted between him and Maya concerning his own set of values.  Miles now has not only had to endure the antics of Jack (along with learning that his novel that he has been working on for years has been rejected by a publishing company), he also feels he needs to make amends to a person he has come to very much care for.  Miles leaves a heartfelt but rambling message on Maya’s phone to make her understand the person he really is.  After Jack’s wedding, Miles listens to a message on his telephone from Maya that seems to imply she still cares for him.  Thus we have the prospect of a happy ending.

The struggle to find meaning in life is a subject that has fascinated us since the beginning of mankind.  Without question, Miles for all of his idiosyncrasies was the better of the two friends – with or without considerations of decency.  We have no doubt that in time Miles will find some answers to his struggle.  And though Jack will never have to struggle in the same way, there is a very good chance that Jack will also never grow.  There was one scene towards the end of the film that almost rang authentic.  Miles was sitting at the desk in his classroom while a student reads from a piece of literature.  That what the student was reading seemed to suggest that there was no hope did not affect Miles so much as the fact that the student was trying to learn and was speaking to Miles in a tone of ultimate respect.  This tone of respect was something that was missing during the entire seven days he spent with Jack out on the road where Jack addressed him with nothing but crude remarks - hiding Jack’s inner insecurity.  Most of Jack’s humor was not all that funny and most of his tough talk was a façade.

Sideways is a 126 minute movie.  The first hour dragged on far too long, but the movie did pick up during the next hour and almost made the first hour worth the wait.  It was directed by Alexander Payne, best known for previously directing About Schmidt.  About Schmidt is a better movie because Schmidt (played by Jack Nicholson) is a more fully developed character than Miles ever becomes.  Miles constant talk about the art of winemaking eventually sounds too scripted and we want him to move on to other subjects.  The symbolism of wine and wine country is also too blatant.  I’m not all that touched when I see Miles staring at a bunch of grapes.  It also gets to be uneventful seeing how long it takes Miles to catch on that he was not going to find peace in the company of Jack.  Certainly Miles had his struggles, but at some point Miles has to stop feeling sorry for his self while having the opportunity to see some of the most beautiful scenery in the world in the Napa Valley region.  Still, Sideways is similar in theme as About Schmidt and it does come close to making us understand what makes such an unhappy character as Miles.  Undoubtedly, it has a great deal to do with being middle-aged while seeing all of the good things in life going to Jack – a person that has no appreciation for real beauty whatsoever.

Sideways reminded me of Little Miss Sunshine and, to a lesser degree, Juno.  All three films depended to too great of a degree on one-liners and typecast characters.  Miles is the most authentic of all the characters in this film, but even he is a type of personality we see in hundreds of other movies.  And like Little Miss Sunshine, it felt like the director of Sideways took a very long time to actually figure out what he wanted to do with this movie.  I could almost understand why someone would not sit through the first hour of this film.  It’s too bad that there was not some sort of disclaimer at the beginning of the movie that promised the viewer something better to come in the second half.  However, with all this film had against it, it is surprising it is as good as it was.  Unlike most movies in this genre, I could probably watch Sideways again – but I would only do so with reservations.  I know it is a dubious distinction to suggest that this is one of the better movies using a worn out formula.  That it is watchable is at least something I can say.

© Robert S. Miller 2009

We’re inundated with jargon.  Terms and concepts such as synergy, legalese, out-sourcing, co-sourcing, or thinking outside of the box have become as much a part of our language as terms with real substance such as bread or water.  Critics in particular like to use such words or phrases because it disguises a lack of precision.  The 92 minute film, Point Blank, is often described as film noir because there is so much about the film that cannot be easily described.  Film Noir I suppose could be used to describe a stylish crime drama except that Point Blank is not always so stylish.  The dream sequences in the movie may lead the viewer to the conclusion that it is stylish, but many of the film’s action sequences could just as easily be described as cheesy (especially when one considers this movie was released in 1967).  The film includes scenes in strip-clubs, features loud car crashes, lots of gun play, and plenty of graphic sex scenes thrown in (at least as graphic as it could be for that time period).  But setting that aside, the problem with describing this movie as film noir is that it downplays the film’s borderline exemplariness.   The supporting cast, and especially Angie Dickinson, John Vernon and Carroll O’Connor, admirably underplay their roles.   Lee Marvin, who had already played a number of significant roles, may have played his best part here ever as Walker, the loner and existentialist with no first name.

In the beginning of the film, Walker lies in an Alcatraz prison cell having what is either a flashback or a bad dream (and even at the film’s end we are not sure which it is) about a crime spree that went badly wrong for him.  In a heist for money in the amount of $150,000 – of which $93,000 is supposed to go to Walker – which was to take place on the island of Alcatraz , Walker is double-crossed by his partner Mal Reese (John Vernon) and by Walker’s wife, Lynne (Sharon Acker).   Reese subsequently shoots Walker after Walker has returned to his prison cell.  How this all happens with the absence of guards at the infamous facility is never clear.  Realism shouldn’t be assumed here.  Unfortunately for Reese and for Walker’s wife, Walker does not die from the gunshot wound (unless, of course, Walker is dreaming the whole revenge thing up).  Lynne, when confronted by Walker and out of feelings of guilt for her alliance with Reese (that included more than the simple shooting of her husband), commits suicide.  Walker, through the help of Lynne’s sister, Chris (Angie Dickinson) -  who also had a dalliance with Reese, but who now comes to fall in love with Walker – then comes back to kill everyone in the crime syndicate organization, from Reese on up, that is responsible for what had happened.  Reese only happens to be one of the lowly players in the entire scheme.   Others in the organization include Stegman (Michael Strong), a used car salesman, Frederick Carter (Lloyd Bochner), who is killed along with Stegman by a hit man (James Sikking) – a hit man that does not seem particularly disconcerted that he shot the wrong two people – and finally Brewster (Carroll O’Connor), who runs his crime organization like it was a corporation.  All of these individuals (and many more) die because of Walker’s intricate plan.  The irony is that Walker never gets his $93,000 back.  Since the crime syndicate is run like a corporation with millions of dollars in assets, the $93,000 is basically all on paper and is not readily available in dollar bills.

What Point Blank is ultimately about is only slightly less complicated than the plotline.  As much of a thug as Walker proves himself to be as evidenced by the number of individuals that he has killed or bludgeoned throughout the movie, he seems to have exhibited more integrity than any other major character in the film.   Walker is up front concerning his motives.  He wants money in dollar bills.  To the other characters in the movie, $93,000 is a mere pittance and would bring none of the major players any satisfaction.  Stegman enjoys the prestige of hearing his add for his car lot on the radio and wouldn’t show up at the job at all if not to eyeball attractive female clientele.   Reese attempted to kill Walker only because it was a way of moving up in the crime syndicate and provide him with a penthouse where he could entertain his female companions – including Walker’s wife, Lynne, and her sister, Chris.  Carter was willing to set-up and to kill any individual that would affect his prestige in the syndicate.  Brewster only paid attention to ledger sheets and account balances without any concern that the numbers also reflected people killed.  As much as Walker was familiar with a life of crime, he was completely at a loss to understand a crime syndicate as heartless and impersonal as a corporate conglomerate. 

In Point Blank, Director Boorman not so innocently juxtaposes corporate culture and organized crime – fairly successfully.  Walker as anti-hero is still not the real villain in this film.  The real villains have become number crunchers and live the life of executives attending cocktail parties and flying all around the country for business meetings.  They don’t talk like prototypical criminals and are even offended when having to witness the conduct of an old-style gangster like Walker.  What Boorman is trying to say with this film is both amusing and valid.  Corporate executives in this nation have been at least since the 1960s posing as something they are not.  All the talk about entrepreneurship and carrying on that dynamic frontier spirit of the 1800s notwithstanding, these moneymakers have been in many respects the very antithesis of the romantic trailblazers we hold so dear in American mythology.  In truth, corporate culture has high-jacked the definitions of individualism and autonomy, and in claiming these concepts for  their own have turned the American Dream into something unseemly and uninspiring  – like having an insurance actuary posing as an operator of an oil derrick.  Corporate executives thrive in a culture of organization and bureaucracy and have no backbone to succeed where one has to go it alone.  This is precisely why such characters as Brewster and Carter and Stegman and particularly Reese are so ineffective in dealing with Walker directly.  Yet it is because society is now so dominated by such individuals that someone like Walker feels so completely alienated from a society where he once played such an important part.  What sets a loner like Walker apart from other men of the modern era is his capacity to feel real human emotion.  As cold and ruthless as he may seem, he was capable of caring for people like his wife and her sister.  He was tough, courageous and loyal – if the company he kept might not always been worthy of loyalty. 

Director John Boorman also directed Deliverance.  It was probably the only other movie in the director’s long and ongoing career that was as unusual as Point Blank.  Yet both movies contain masculine themes, involve unusual characters, and concern violent circumstances that go beyond the key characters understanding.  Boorman seems obsessed with viewing modern society (and especially America) as evolving in a way that is not for the better.  Both films involve men wanting to live by codes of conduct that go beyond living by the strict letter of the law.  Yet in Deliverance the four main characters were friends of each other.  They trusted each other, and in the end the trust was deserved.  In Point Blank, Walker has no friends.  His one friendship with Reese, who he had trusted, ended in disaster.  Walker was forever condemned to go it alone save an occasional woman that he took to bed.  Walker was a man in a world that was otherwise devoid of men.  And so long as the world was impersonal and was ruled by profit motive and corporate protocol, he was forever condemned to go it alone.

© Robert S. Miller 2009

I wonder if the hysteria contained in Inherit the Wind is realistically portrayed, but then it’s difficult to dismiss phenomena that occurred in 1925 when similar happenings are still occurring in 2009.  The insanity may have been overstated in the film, but at least it was plausible.  John Scopes, a twenty-four year old school teacher, violated Tennessee’s Butler Act, a law that prevented the teaching of the theory of Evolution in our schools.  If he had been practicing witchcraft, there would not have been such an outpouring of rage.  Scopes did something much, much worse than commune with the Devil.  He chose to be right rather than try to belong to the good community of Dayton, Tennessee.

Inherit the Wind is the story of the Scopes Trial with some of the names changed.   Dick York plays Bertram T. Cates, a fictional John Scopes.  Frederic March plays the prosecuting attorney, Matthew Harrison Brady, a fictional William Jennings Bryan.  Gene Kelly plays the journalist, E.K. Hornbeck, a fictional H.L. Mencken.  And most importantly, Spencer Tracy plays the defense attorney, Henry Drummond, a fictional Clarence Darrow.  Cates is charged with teaching evolution; Brady comes to town to prosecute him and stir up the town people into a religious fervor; by a strange quirk, Drummond cross-examines Brady concerning his knowledge of the Bible and in the process makes a mockery of Brady’s beliefs; Hornbeck, the cynical journalist that he is, takes glee in the carnival-like atmosphere surrounding the trial; and Cates is found guilty and fined a paltry one-hundred dollars.  Brady, suddenly realizing that he has been made a fool of, suffers a stroke at the conclusion of the trial and falls dead to the floor.  While packing away the material used at trial (and with the intention of appealing the guilty verdict), Drummond walks out of the court carrying Darwin’s Origin of the Species and the King James Bible together in his hands.

There is a side story contained in the film that was made up totally in the imagination of the screenwriters.  In the film, Cates is engaged to Rachel Brown (Donna Anderson) who also happens to be the daughter of the Reverend Brown (Claude Akins).  Reverend Brown happens to be a Fundamentalist Christian and fully disapproves of Cates method of teaching to the point that he would even disown his own daughter for association with the young teacher.  In fact, Reverend Brown represents that type of Christian that believes in infant damnation, the banning of textbooks in schools, and the condemnation of all that disagree with him.  This man of God is the descendent of the Puritans and precursor to modern day fundamentalists like Oral Roberts and Bob Jones.  Though Rachel tries to maintain her loyalty to her father, she eventually rebels and sits next to Cates at the trial.  It is left up to the audience to determine who “troubleth his own house,” Reverend Brown or his daughter, and shall therefore according to the Book of Proverbs “inherit the wind.”  This subplot is probably the weakest portion of the film, though it does allow March to show the human side of the character that he plays.  And, unfortunately, the character of Reverence Brown is too frighteningly real.

The screenplay for the film was written by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee some ten years before the film was actually released and was allegedly in response to the HUAC hearings that were presided over by Senator Joseph McCarthy.  Obviously, the film and the play were more aimed at the subject of the right to think freely than it was meant to resolve the debate over Darwin’s theory of evolution.  Just as obvious, the filmmakers take the side of Cates and Drummond over that of Brady and the majority of the townspeople.  Yet despite the willingness of the filmmakers to take sides, the movie still challenges the audience perhaps because our minds have really not opened up that very much since 1925.  Our conception of religion still seems so narrowly and dogmatically tailored that it will not let in the questioning mind or any healthy skepticism.  For during the trial, when Drummond (or Darrow) gets Brady (or Brady) to admit that there are some portions of the Bible that are open to interpretation, the argument at that point should have been all over.  Yet Brady could not admit to being wrong, and it was that rigidity that probably killed him.  Brady, like the real life person upon which the character was based, ran for President three times, represented many of the progressive causes that were vital to the ordinary citizen and who probably truly cared for those same people, will be remembered most during his last days for, in the words of H.L. Mencken, “demagogy so dreadful that his very associates at the trial table blushed.” 

Whether the reactions of the townspeople in the film were overstated, the reproduction of the two protagonists in the courtroom is adeptly played out.  March was excellent in the role of Brady, but only occasionally does the screenplay let his humanity show.  Personally, I think that Kelly played the role of Hornbeck much better than most critics give him credit for doing.  Again, the screenplay fell short as far as characterization.   Spencer Tracy is immaculate in the role of Drummond and is the most well rounded of any character in the movie.  It is the character of Drummond that is trying to announce to the town people and everyone else in the world that Cates was trying to enhance the beliefs of people rather than take any beliefs away from them.  Though always challenging in his approach, Drummond in the end also respects those that disagree with him at least to the point that those same people respect his right to disagree with them as well.

Directed by Stanley Kramer, who also directed The Defiant Ones and Judgment at Nuremburg, this 128 minute’ film seems more like a play than a movie – just like almost every movie that Kramer ever directed.  Kramer is making a quasi-political point about the obligation to be free and independent, even under the most oppressive of conditions.  In Judgment at Nuremburg, Tracy played the role of a judge that made the determination that one single man has to be responsible for his own actions and cannot excuse that obligation by giving into pressure of others.  Inherit the Wind is only a slightly different variation on the same theme.

Many people still wear their ignorance on their sleeve as if it was a badge of honor.  It happens in the field of science and reason, religion and politics (as is evidenced about every four years in our Presidential elections).  We’d prefer to give up and become complacent towards what we call the truth rather than struggle for the answer from which will bring us real spiritual awards.  We are awarded for our compliance by never having to think too hard about what cowards we are in simply giving into the pressure of others.  As Drummond makes the point in the film Inherit the Wind and as Darrow made the point in real life, we have allowed such people to insult religion by making the claim that they are somehow representative of religion as a whole.  If not perfectly portrayed, at least Inherit the Wind shows how bad following the mob can turn out to be and, if not rewarding, how noble standing up for one’s belief in face of the crowd can be.

 © Robert S. Miller 2009

In the remarkable opening speech (which was actually an amalgamation of speeches given by Patton), General George S. Patton (George C. Scott) states: “Americans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser.”  Whether the irony was intentional or unintentional, America was in the middle of losing a war when the film Patton was released to theatres.  Nevertheless, the filming of Patton was nearly flawless.  Any mistakes made can mainly be attributed to the director and the lead actor trying to do too much rather than too little with the vast amount of material that they were given. 

Patton is strictly a chronological retelling of Patton’s military leadership after 1941.  Following the disastrous battle of Kasserine, Patton is summoned away from Morocco by General Omar Bradley (Karl Malden) to assume lead of the allied forces in Africa against Field Marshall Erwin Rommel (Karl Michael Vogler).  We then follow Patton’s distinguished World War II military career from Tunisia to Sicily to Normandy, where Patton was placed in charge of the Third Army.  Along the way, he stirs up controversy by insulting British commanders including Field Marshall Montgomery (Michael Bates), by disobeying orders including entering the city of Palermo without permission, by allegedly pushing his soldiers too hard, by slapping a soldier, by personally shooting two mules that were holding up a convoy, by insulting our Russian allies, and being too lenient towards his former enemies while serving as a military governor of Bavaria following the war.  Patton is portrayed as being outspoken, flamboyant, grandiose and profane, even towards his superiors including General Walter Bedell Smith (Edward Binns) and General Harold Alexander (Jack Gwillim).  His inner demons prevented him from ever being at peace with anyone – including himself.  Yet despite his shortcomings, Patton makes virtually no errors when it concerned military judgment (or at least this is the case according to this movie).  His constant pushing of his men prevented even more casualties from occurring on the island of Sicily, and it saved the 101^st Airborne Division from being slaughtered at Bastogne.  In his own way, Patton is a religious man that believes in reincarnation, the virtues of honor and courage, and loyalty to the United States and especially the United States Military.  He was also a poet and self-made philosopher.  Relieved of command following the war, he seems saddened by the knowledge that he there are no more wars for him to partake in.  As the movie closes, we hear the voice of Patton stating that “all glory is fleeting.”

If this movie had a flaw, it was only that it overstated the virtue of Patton’s military brilliance and understated the virtues of the man.  Only one time in the movie do we even ever note the suggestion that Patton may have made a rash military judgment, and that is during the invasion of Sicily. Patton insists to General Bradley and General Lucian Truscott (John Ducette) that the battle must go on in order that Patton arrives in Messina before Field Marshall Montgomery.  Right before entering the Sicilian city, Bradley asks Patton if he has seen the casualty reports (implying that the death toll was quite high).  Patton responds by telling Bradley that we have to consider what the casualty rates would be if the battle was still continuing on the roads into Messina.  We’re never let to know whether Patton was or was not right on this point.  Other than this one incident, Patton is given a kind of omniscience concerning all things military that seems to be beyond the realm of most possibilities.  It seems a bit too good to be true that Patton knew of the dangers of gasoline engines in the tanks (which, apparently, despite the movie’s claim notwithstanding, even German tanks used early in the war), that every leader that opposed his judgment (including Montgomery and sometimes Eisenhower) were generally proven to be greatly in the wrong, that Patton anticipated a German offensive in the Rhineland during the month of December, 1944 when such an offensive seemed all but impossible, and that Patton seemed to be the only American that understood the consequences of the Russians arriving in Berlin before the remainder of the allies.  And it’s probably more than coincidental that hindsight backed Patton up on every military outcome – or at least we are led to believe by the editing of the material in this movie.

On the other hand, it’s interesting to note that Patton the man was probably somewhat more reachable than portrayed in the film.  Apparently, the real Patton felt great remorse for the slapping incident and apologized to the soldier prior to being ordered to do this by General Eisenhower.  Patton had not slept for 48 hours when the slapping incident took place.  Patton was also one of the first generals to embrace the idea of desegregating of the troops.  And what was barely mentioned in the entire movie was that Patton was an extremely devoted family man.  In the film, we’re almost led to believe that Patton had absolutely no social skills whatsoever.

Patton is a long sprawling movie (171 minutes in length) and won Oscars for Best Picture and Best Actor.  Yet for all of its accolades there were a number of unexpected consequences with this film.  Scott declined to accept the Oscar for this film because he refused to take part in what he considered to be a “meat parade” at the Academy Awards.  (In fact, what was to occur was that probably the most gifted movie actor ever was from this point forward typecast as a result of taking the lead role in this film.)  Scott also was not impressed with either his own performance, which he felt did not give justice to such a complex man as George S. Patton, or any of the other actors in the film (especially Karl Malden who he deprecatingly referred to as “Old Smiley”).  Some viewers criticized the film as a glorification of the military, or as a romanticizing of an unsavory person.  Some that praised the film did so for the wrong reasons.  President Richard M. Nixon, for example, was allegedly so enthused with the film that he watched it several times right before the ordering of the bombing of Cambodia. 

Still, despite all the controversy, this remains as one of the greatest movies ever filmed.  Patton makes us respect and even admire an extremely flawed person who seemingly had little patience for the frailties of others.  That General George S. Patton must have been a charismatic individual would hardly surprise anyone since he was a well known military commander, but his great appeal was actually being a maverick in a type of position that invited conformism.  Despite his early talk in the film that an army is a team and individuality has no place in fighting a war, Patton was the epitome of the rugged individual admired by so many Americans.  He could not help but be contrarian in the face of all opposition and fight for his own way of doing things.  Patton was a loner, an eccentric that reveled in talking and acting differently than everyone else.  He held onto a set of beliefs that were uniquely his own.  And coincidentally, so did the actor that played the role, George C. Scott.

Apparently, John Wayne had long sought this role, but director Franklin Schaffner had never felt that Wayne was adequate for the role.  The movie certainly would have been different and far less complex if Wayne had received his wish.  John Wayne was too establishment, too unlikely to question any kind of authority to ever have captured the essence of a soldier like Patton.  Patton was driven by forces that John Wayne, who was never an outsider, would have failed to understand.  George C. Scott, like General Patton, was never comfortable with the colleagues of his own profession.  On the evening that Scott won an Oscar for his role in this film, he was sitting at home watching his sons play hockey and deliberately kept his mind unaware of what was going on in Hollywood.  And for many years during his long acting career, George C. Scott criticized and even kept aloof from those in his profession.  He was satisfied with the acting of no one – including his self.  It is alleged that Scott apologized to Schaffner for how he played the role of the General.  Yet it was Scott’s ability to project Patton’s magnetism more than any other factor that made this a magnificent movie.  It wasn’t the repetitious screenplay that over and over again put Patton in opposition to the powers that be – such a screenplay took the risk of making this movie far too long.  It wasn’t the remainder of the cast that did a decent job in support – it would take more than simple support to make a movie an epic.  It wasn’t the cinematography or the soundtrack, which were both well done.  It wasn’t even the director, though Schaffner deserves a great deal of credit for keeping his temperamental star in line.  This film’s great virtue concerned George C. Scott playing the role of George S. Patton.

The Patton portrayed in the movie and played by Scott is unbearably real and recognizably human.  There is not a single moment in this film that Scott does not make us feel like we know how Patton feels under any given situation.  We actually seem to understand this complicated man and feel it an injustice when he was deprived of the opportunity of leading all of the allied forces into Berlin.  We end up identifying with the man when by all standards practically none of us would have had anything in common with him.  This is not hero worship.  More than seeing the best of the man, we see the worst of the man and still end up admirng him in the end.

©  Robert S. Miller 2009

Doubt is a 104 minute film that was written and directed by John Patrick Shanley, and focuses on three primary characters.  Father Brendan Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman) heads up a small Catholic Parish in the Bronx just shortly after the assassination of John F. Kennedy.  He is a progressive Priest beloved by his congregation and especially the youth of the church for his message of forgiveness and tolerance in these changing times that would soon lead to Vatican II.   Sister James (Amy Adams) is the young nun that teaches history at the Parish school.  She is young and idealistic and inspired by the sermons of Father Flynn.  Then there is Sister Aloysius Beauvier (Meryl Streep) – the stereotypical nun feared by all and Principal of the Parish school.  She is puritanical and severe to an extraordinary degree with both the students and fellow nuns, and she is suspicious of all behavior that departs from devoutness and orthodoxy.  Sister Aloysius is possibly the only individual in the entire Parish unimpressed with the methods of Father Flynn.

A series of coincidences leads Sister Aloysius to the suspicion that Father Flynn may have molested a young black boy in the Parish by the name of Donald Miller (Joseph Foster).  There is virtually no evidence that this actually occurred other than Sister James noting Donald’s distraught behavior and the smell of wine upon his breath, and then noticing Father Flynn depositing a t-shirt into Donald Miller’s locker.  (Sister James, almost to the end of the movie, can never be convinced that Father Flynn is actually guilty.)  The matter is further complicated when we discover that Donald’s mother (Viola Davis) is more concerned with Donald making it through the school year with passing grades than she is that Father Flynn may be molesting the boy.  As she tells Sister Aloysius, she believes Donald to be gay in any case and he is better off under the protection of Father Flynn than to be beaten near to death by his father should Donald’s dark secret be made public.  After a series of confrontations between Sister Aloysius and Father Flynn, the shrewd nun beguiles the Priest into admitting that he may have a past.  Sister Aloysius lies to the Father to make him believe that she possesses knowledge that she really does not have.  The good sister gives the Priest no choice but to put in for a transfer to another parish.  In the end, Father Flynn is put in charge of an even bigger parish (an essence, a promotion), no one will take Sister Aloysius’s word that there may have been wrongdoing, and even Sister Aloysius cannot be certain that Father Flynn was guilty of molesting the young boy.

Doubt is a decent movie with some gaping holes.  Even if it was to no avail, I kept wondering why Sister Aloysius didn’t simply just question Donald Miller about what had occurred.  Certainly he may lie to her, but Sister Aloysius seemed to be a fairly good judge of whether one was or was not telling her the truth.  Why not at least give it a try?  I also felt it was contrived to make the victim and confused about his own sexual orientation.  Why couldn’t it simply have been an Irish neighborhood kid more typical of attending a school such as this one?  Also, Sister Aloysius breaking down at the end and crying, while confessing to Sister James that she had “doubts,” seemed out of character.   I know that her doubts are a metaphor for the danger of losing her religious faith or at least her beliefs in the sanctity of the Catholic Church to which she had focused so much of her energy.  But instead, what almost comes across in the movie is that she is expressing doubts in her own mind about Father Flynn’s guilt.  Father Flynn likely got away with doing something wrong and there’s no need to feel sorry for him.  If Sister Aloysius is going to shed tears it would be better that these tears be tears of anger aimed at a church that’s allowing young boys to be molested rather than tears of doubt and self-pity. 

I confess to being conflicted about this movie and the the difficulty I have with the film does concern the movie’s ambiguous ending.  We have recently had an epidemic of movies with open endings where we are not able to be sure of what ultimately happened, and this has occurred in No Country for Old Men, Atonement, The Wrestler and to some degree The Reader.   These are not necessarily bad films, but it’s easy to grow tired of directors playing hide the ball with what they are trying to say.  I’m not sure if the moviemakers in these films are confessing the limits of what they know or are demonstrating a failure of nerve.  I think the ambiguous ending of Doubt results in letting the Catholic Church off of the hook and instead make the blame for the church’s problems appear to be due to the lack of vigilance of certain individuals within the church.  The makers of Doubt might simply have been trying to evade controversy by toning down the criticism of the church.

I’m an outsider to the Catholic Church, so I can’t speak to everything a devoted Catholic nun would feel concerning the happenings in this film.  However, Sister Aloysius was obviously the kind of nun that seemed less concerned with being popular than doing what was right.  The kind of behavior she exhibited would not have won favors of anyone, but she only cared that the church would deliver what it promised.  Take away the recent accusations of molestation within the church and it seems like the modern Catholic Church has done more to alleviate suffering than any other major Christian Church – at least since the 1960s – so Sister Aloysius had the right to hope.  But Doubt features a priest that likely molested a young boy, and we now know this kind of activity has been going on for a long, long time.  I would hope that someone as observant as Sister Aloysius was and who was completely committed and devoted to her beliefs would experience more than simple doubts when confronted with the circumstances of sexual misconduct.  She should have been outraged.  The film portrays her as the type that probably would have made an appearance in front of the Papal office itself and risked excommunication to address this problem.  She may have even left the cloister and swore off the Catholic Church forever.  I think that Sister Aloysius’s behavior throughout the movie was consistent with this – until the very end where she expressed doubts and seemed resigned to what had occurred.  Because of this, I have doubts that Doubt went far enough.  Doubt wouldn’t do enough to surprise or outrage devoted Catholics, even those that may have cared for the church as much as Sister Aloysius.  Doubt fails to take seriously the greatest problem facing the church today and its greatest moral failing in recent decades.

The acting in Doubt is excellent.  Some reviewers seemed to think that Meryl Streep was playing more the caricature of a nun than the real thing, but we do see Sister Aloysius project courage and a certain compassionate wisdom that is surprising in a character that would otherwise seem devoid of human feeling.  Phillip Seymour Hoffman definitely gives a more nuanced performance in that we see him sliding from what seems to be an admirable person into the role of a likely pariah.  Amy Adams plays mostly a type, but it’s a type that brings along with it a certain humor that makes the more intense moments in the movie feel bearable.  I actually liked the filming in its depiction of symbolism, and this does make viewing of the film seem more than watching a stage-play – which is from what the film was adapted.  The blowing leaves, the raging storms, the nun habit, the light bulb that kept blowing out were, if a bit too obvious, well chosen symbols easily identified by a movie audience.

If I annoy my readers by giving too much of the plot of a movie away, I can’t do it here because the whole plot for Doubt was basically divulged in the movie previews for everyone to see.  I actually commend the filmmakers for doing this because they were at least secure enough in the work product they made that a quality film includes more than just a synopsis.  Knowing what occurs in advance has never ruined a film for me.  What has ruined films for me has been filmmaking techniques that hide the fact the movie has almost no substance.  I’d rather watch a television sitcom that doesn’t pretend to say anything meaningful than be present through some muddled piece of crap that mistakes a somber story for a relevant one.  And so in Doubt we have less game playing than usual in the promotion of the film.  We probably have less game playing with the film itself than we have had in many recent movies.  Unfortunately, we still have some of the same trickery that has upended other films and comes very close to upending this film as well.

© Robert Miller 2009

There may be a time when a gay themed film actually wins the Oscar for Best Picture.  I’m guessing that it won’t occur with Milk.  For at least half of a movie we have an unapologetic depiction of the gay lifestyle that will make many viewers uncomfortable.  Predictably, the movie becomes preachy during its second half.  Since the Academy Awards Committee gets everything mixed up, it will be the second half of the movie that they will be impressed with rather than the first part.  In any case, probably the Academy will look for a safe out by selecting another film for the Oscar.

Harvey Milk (Sean Penn) moves away from New York to San Francisco with Scott (James Franco) approximately in 1970 as the two of them hope to find a vicinity less oppressive to their gay lifestyle.  The two moves into a neighborhood called Castro and set up a camera shop.   To their chagrin, they discover much of the same discrimination that occurs everywhere else.  In the face of police persecution of the citizens and businesses contained in this area, Milk tries to organize a gay coalition to protect their interests.  (One such effort included boycotting of Coors Beer at gay bars in order to gain support for his coalition from the Teamsters’ Union.)  This leads to him eventually running for Supervisor of the district in which he lives.  Harvey gets rid of the beard and pony tail that he has worn since coming to San Francisco and then buys himself a bad looking suit.  With Scott as his campaign manager, he also recruits for his staff Cleve Jones (Emile Hirsch), a strong willed young man that thinks the gay community has become too timid, and Anne Cronenberg (Alison Pil), a lesbian that Milk feels will bring into his campaign another perspective.  Milk is defeated in his first two attempts to achieve the office.  But after gerrymandering of various districts occurs to insure that more minorities are elected as Supervisors, Milk finally is elected Supervisor in 1977 making him the first openly gay man appointed to public office in the United States.  Entering into politics damages his private life, however.  Harvey receives a number of death threats.  Scott eventually leaves him because of the public scrutiny.  A second lover, Jack Lira (Diego Luna), hangs himself because he feels life with Harvey is becoming too much of a circus.

With the backdrop of Anita Bryant declaring homosexuality to be a deviant lifestyle, California attempts to pass Proposition 6 that would give school districts the authority to fire school teachers simply for being gay.  The bill was authored by State Senator John Briggs (Denis O’Hare) and is opposed by Harvey and the San Francisco Mayor, George Moscone (Victor Garber).  Harvey has a number of debates with Briggs on the subject both in San Francisco and in politically more conservative areas such as Santa Monica.  Harvey and his staff organize parades, make phone calls and attend other rallies in an attempt to vote Proposition 6 down.  The measure is defeated.  One of the other supervisors, voted in from a more conservative district, was Dan White (Josh Bolin).  It’s obvious almost from the start that White has some emotional baggage, but Harvey at first believes that he can make a connection with him.  Harvey attends a christening of White’s child, unsuccessfully tries to make deals with White in return for White’s voting against anti-gay measures that take place within the city, and reluctantly concludes in the end that White will never come over to his side.  White, frustrated that many of his own measures are not being taken seriously by other members of the board, submits his resignation to Mayor Moscone.  However, after White discovers that the factions of the police department do not want to see White leave, White attempts to withdraw his resignation and return to his position as supervisor.  Mayor Moscone refuses to reappoint White, and White then returns with a gun and assassinates both the Mayor and Harvey Milk.  A torchlight parade is then held in honor of the slain Supervisor in the Castro neighborhood.  We are informed at the end of the movie that Dan White only served five years in prison for the murder of the two officials.  White, we are told, was found guilty only of manslaughter due to his lawyers use of the infamous “Twinkie Defense” where it was argued that White was a bit hyperactive due to a diet of junk food.  (Actually, White’s addiction to junk food was only cited by his defense team as a symptom of the depression they claimed White suffered from, but calling it the “Twinkee Defense” sold more newspapers and makes the appearance of injustice seem even greater.)

Milk is more successful as a character study than it is in tracing the evolution of gay politics in our society.  Becoming the first openly gay man to achieve public office is a remarkable story.  But merely achieving the office does not mean the office holder will fail to disappoint.  Realistically speaking politicians promise great things to be elected to office, and compromise to remain in office.  Harvey was fairly typical of this.  That the followers of Harvey are never shown to be disillusioned with his actions adds a false note to this film.  The rallying together of the troops, the film clips of Anita Bryant and her ilk uttering their outrageously pious platitudes about God’s law, and the many characters talking up how Harvey has given them hope, is all very well in a mainstream film but not impressive for a film that has the potential of being something special.  Senator John Briggs can be voted out, Anita Bryant can admit to being a dupe for other political opportunists looking for a celebrity as a spokesperson, and Dan White can be put in jail (for however short of a time) and later commit suicide.  Sadly, someone always seems to replace them.   Proposition 6 was shot down, but Proposition 8 banning gay marriages in the State of California was passed.  The openly gay relationship (and all of the complexities that go with it) that Harvey has with Scott and later with Jack Lira is more significant in Milk because it is not simple.  The desire to openly express their affection in face of brutality, being asked to make a public statement about a private relationship to avoid being crushed by political opposition, risking the abandonment of one’s family by going public at all, just wanting to spend a few moments together with the person you care for without having to think about greater concerns – all are themes which are treated with greater intensity in Milk than in probably any other mainstream movie that has ever been released.  For one-half of this movie – the first half – we have a Hollywood movie that shows courage.

Sean Penn, James Franco and Diego Luna play complete and complicated characters when involved in committed and not so committed relationships on the screen.  Only Sean Penn brings along that same depth when playing a character involved in the political world.  Sean Penn, often accused of overplaying his parts, can never be accused of overacting in this movie.  As talented as Emile Hirsch may be, I found the character of Cleve Jones to be a type (outside of the very first scenes in which he appears).  And we never get to know most of the other gay characters outside of their participation in the coalition.  Josh Brolin as Dan White may be the only other actor in the movie with close to the talent of Penn.  We of course know from the outset that Dan White will eventually kill Harvey and the Mayor.  Nevertheless, we’d be bothered by the character of White as played by Brolin even if we didn’t know that he was capable of double murder.

Director Gus Van Sant has directed more than twenty movies, but only a couple of them were best sellers at the box office.  I was surprised to discover that he directed Good Will Hunting because that film contained the sort of dialogue that intellectuals supposedly engage in.  There’s very little of that same pretension in Milk.  One of the pleasant surprises to Milk is that the storytelling is straight forward and without campiness.  At 128 minutes, I’d say the movie was a bit long but certainly not unbearable like many other award winning melodramas that have been foisted upon us (i.e. Atonement).  Another virtue of the movie is this: we like the character of Harvey Milk in the movie despite his in your face projection of his sexual preference.  At times, Harvey Milk comes close to being too angelic yet we never get from him a sense of smugness or moral superiority.  Though projecting the attributes that are commonly associated with gay men, Harvey proves himself to be a total man.  When he is shot by Dan White, we feel the action was as wrong and senseless as when Mark David Chapman gunned down John Lennon.  Yet we also understand that somewhere in the world sick individuals make heroes of people like Chapman and White.

I’d wager 3-2 odds that Slumdog Millionaire will win the Oscar for Best Picture.  It’s a safe pick and the only other quality movie besides Milk nominated for Best Picture.  The Reader and Frost/Nixon are mediocre films dressed up as being something significant.  The Curious Case of Benjamin Button contains some comical elements, but if we remove the special effects aspects we’d find that the movie is average at best.  Milk I believe to be the best of the five nominees. 

© Robert S. Miller 2009

To begin with, the only thing the movie The Curious Case of Benjamin Button has in common with the F. Scott Fitzgerald story of the same name is that the lead character ages backwards.  Fitzgerald’s story is satire with a bite.  The film has about as much bite as the old looking Benjamin Button gumming his food without his dentures.  We travel the decades from the end of World War I to Hurricane Katrina yet the film gives us no indication of the significance of what we are seeing.  Questions of race relations, economic hard times, technology, culture and reasoning for going to war appear unimportant to the film makers as compared with the interests of filling the screen with panoramic scenery.  The premise of the movie is cute, many of the early scenes are comical, and the last hour of this 166 minute film is about as dull as any movie can possibly be.

Thomas Button’s wife dies in childbirth on Armistice Day in 1919, but she does manage to deliver a child that is by all appearances a freak of nature.  The infant child named Benjamin is wrinkled and appears to be suffering from all of the infirmities of old age.  Thomas (Jason Flemyng) is so shocked by the appearance of his new born son that he abandons the child on the doorsteps of a nursing home.  A young black woman, Queenie (Taraji P. Henson), that runs the nursing home rescues the child and ends up raising the boy as her own.  Benjamin is not expected to live long, but to everyone’s surprise he seems to get over the ailments and continually grow younger.  Benjamin, now played by Brad Pitt, learns from the residents at the nursing home along with various guests including a pygmy that traveled to New Orleans from Africa.   At the same time, Benjamin meets his real father that happens to be a rich manufacturer of buttons.  Most importantly, he meets Daisy, a young girl that he will remain in contact with off and on for the remainder of his life. 

When Benjamin is no longer in need of a wheelchair or crutches, he befriends a sailor by the name of Captain Mike (Jared Harris).  Captain Mike introduces Benjamin to the pleasure of women at a brothel and eventually takes him aboard his boat as a trustworthy seaman.  During this time, Benjamin also assists his biological father, Thomas, and Benjamin is with Thomas when the latter dies while looking at a sunrise along the gulf coast.  Sometime during the 1930s, Benjamin meets a rich heiress named Elizabeth Abbot (Tilda Swenson) in a Russian port.  Elizabeth seems stuck in a loveless marriage to a man much older than her (though he probably is not as old as he seems).  We are told that Elizabeth once made an unsuccessful attempt to swim the English Channel.  What at first starts as all night conversations over a cup of tea (conversations we never get to hear) eventually develops into a love-affair.  Appropriately, one evening Elizabeth simply disappears.  When America enters into World War II, Captain Mike is so outraged at the Japanese invasion of Pearl Harbor that he decides to use his boat in the service of his country.  Benjamin is one of the few crewmen that stick by the Captain.  Eventually, the boat does see action and manages to sink a German submarine, but almost everyone on the boat besides Benjamin is killed.  After the war, Benjamin returns to the nursing home run by Queenie.  Benjamin now has the appearance of a robust youth while just about everyone else he knew has greatly aged or even died.  Benjamin also again meets Daisy (Cate Blanchett), now all grownup and beautiful.  Naturally, after a few false starts, the two become romantically involved and this in time leads to the birth of a healthy girl by the name of Caroline.  Benjamin stays with Daisy and the girl just until the point when Caroline is still not old enough to remember who he is.  Benjamin eventually leaves the two because he does not want to become a burden upon Daisy when he is too “young” to take care of himself.  Benjamin hopes that Daisy will meet another man that can take care of her and Caroline.  The adult Benjamin meets Daisy once more after Daisy had married someone else, and Benjamin is given the opportunity to see what Caroline looks like.  He also gets to have a one-night liaison with Daisy who is by now much older looking than Benjamin.  Finally, when Benjamin has reverted to childhood but is suffering from symptoms similar to dementia, Daisy returns to the home that Queenie had once run and cares for Benjamin - until the time that he dies in infancy.  On her death bed, Daisy has her daughter Caroline (Julia Ormand) read from Benjamin’s diary revealing who Caroline’s true father is.

Not surprisingly, the screenplay was written by Eric Roth, the same writer that penned the screenplay for Forrest Gump.  What is surprising is that the movie is directed by David Fincher, the same person that directed Fight Club.  It’s difficult to comprehend how two movies could ultimately be as different as Benjamin Button and Fight Club.  The former ends making some viewers blubber while the latter both shocks and surprises.  I guess it all depends upon what one wants that will determine which of the two movies the viewer will prefer.  We know that there’s going to be heartache when Benjamin and Daisy have to part company because their destinies appear to be moving in two separate directions.  That’s fine.  But the makers of this movie seemed to be determined to keep the two together long after we can see the inevitable separation taking place.  Part of a good love story is knowing that the two parties will by necessity part company.  It only makes the story grubbily sentimental if we try to artificially prolong it.  Benjamin Button unnaturally prolongs it to the point where Benjamin in a twenty year old body is now sleeping with the fifty year old Daisy.  That’s nice for a black comedy like Harold and Maude, but it seems jarring in a part romance/part fantasy.

I like the Benjamin in his early years as an old man as he struggles through his peculiar situation and learns along the way.  I don’t care for the Benjamin that grows young and has everything given to him.  Part of the reason why Brad Pitt was effectively cast in the role of Benjamin is that it’s so difficult to hide his vitality.  Even plagued with his early infirmities, we notice his youthful eyes.  Everyone adores that Aunt or Uncle that refuses to be old.  However beat up their exterior may appear these individuals always make everyone around them feel younger.  The character of Benjamin also has that same effect on everyone … except for the adult Daisy.  There is no chemistry between Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett.  With the adult Daisy, Benjamin doesn’t seem to laugh at his particular circumstances or grow in any direction at all.  The two are so serious together that, in his relationship with her, the youthful looking Benjamin almost seems old.

I guess I’m disappointed because Benjamin Button started off so well.  We get to see postcard glances of the various historical epochs that Benjamin lives through as he ages backwards.  Surrounding circumstances add to the incongruity of his situation.  Benjamin’s a white old man-child raised by a young black woman in a nursing home.  The faith healer - supposedly providing the miracle allowing for Benjamin to get up from his wheelchair and walk - drops dead of a heart attack immediately after this so-called miracle takes place.  We get the farfetched scenes of Benjamin being with a woman for the first time as a supposedly decrepit old man.  The Benjamin that takes the child Daisy out on various adventures including the boat ride with Captain Mike reveals the connection between the two characters.  And we enjoy seeing the Benjamin, who at this time we are so used to seeing in an old man’s body, hop on a motorcycle and go out for a ride.  Finally, Benjamin gets one last glimpse of the heiress Elizabeth on a television clip when it is revealed that she is the oldest woman to ever successfully swim the English Channel.  All of this has human and comic touches.  When the film loses its comic touches along with its sense of adventure (which occurs it practically every scene that Cate Blanchett appears), it loses all of its charm for me.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button has been nominated for thirteen Oscars.  All this really proves is that, like the movie, the Academy Award Committee has everything backwards. Give it the award for Cinematography, Editing, Makeup or Best Costume Design and I’m fine with their choices. Give it an Oscar for Best Picture and I will again question what little credibility the Academy Awards already has with me.  If the director had cut an hour off of this movie and removed Cate Blanchett from the casting, the movie would have been better - though never outstanding.

© Robert S. Miller 2009

The general populace fed by the media generally hates politicians for the wrong reasons.  As far as Presidential scandals go, the Watergate break-in probably should not be deserving of such notoriety.  Certainly it’s more significant than such foibles as Grover Cleveland fathering an illegitimate child prior to his taking office or Bill Clinton’s initiating one of his interns concerning an interesting use of a cigar.   But compared to imperialist doctrines to annex lands in Cuba, Puerto Rico, Guam and the Philippines in the 1890s, the passing of the Sedition Act of 1918 that effectively squelched any criticism of United States policies during a time of war, the internment of Japanese-Americans during World War II, the creation and expansion of the HUAC immediately following World War II (and which helped introduce the young Nixon to the world), and the fabrication of the Gulf of Tonkin incident in 1964 as a motivating factor to expand U.S. military activities in Southeast Asia, I’d almost prefer a President ordering a bungled burglary.  I’m not in any way suggesting that history should treat Nixon kindly.  Watergate gave the media a chance to bring down Nixon by portraying the President as a bumbling and raving buffoon.  What the media should have examined more closely was Nixon’s role in prolonging the Viet Nam conflict (as the war was still going on when Nixon resigned), and the President’s ordering of the bombing of Cambodia in 1969 that may later have contributed to Cambodia’s upheaval.  Thirty-four years after Nixon left office, Director Ron Howard has learned almost nothing in hindsight.  The film Frost/Nixon shows us only a Nixon we have long since known without in anyway revealing the late President’s ruthless side - outside of what was revealed on the White House tapes.

By 1977, Frost/Nixon portrays Richard Nixon (Frank Langella) as a bored and restless man desperate for any opportunity to redeem himself.  David Frost (Michael Sheen) is a television host looking for an opportunity to rejuvenate his supposedly sagging career.  (It’s suggested that Frost is a playboy involved mostly in lightweight entertainment projects in Britain and Australia.)  Through the help of Bob Zelnick (Oliver Platt) and James Reston (Sam Rockwell), Frost is able to line up a thirty-hour taping session with the former President.  Zelnick and especially Reston do have concerns that Frost is not up for this kind of task, but they view this as possibly the only opportunity that anyone will have to put Nixon “on trial” for his misdeeds as President.  This is especially true in light of the pardon of Nixon by President Gerald Ford.  Nixon, on the other hand, is assisted chiefly by Jack Brennan (Kevin Bacon), Nixon’s former Chief-of-Staff, and various Press Secretaries including Diane Sawyer (Kate Jennings Grant) who interestingly is given almost no speaking part in the film.

If we are to believe the movie, Nixon basically makes hash out of Frost throughout the first series of interviews until the final one.  Nixon uses a number of psychological ploys to nettle Frost including crude remarks and references to the effeminate shoes that Frost is wearing when the two are off the air.  However, Frost is able to gain the psychological advantage in the end.  Just prior to that last interview, Nixon makes a drunken phone call to Frost and makes known all of the former Presidents inner insecurities (this scene being a piece of fiction made up by a screenwriter).  Frost, in typical Hollywood underdog status, now is motivated to achieve victory.  Frost controls the last interview and provokes Nixon to admit that he had let the country down.  This, we are let to know, occurred with a viewer audience of some 400 million people.  We then get some nonsense in the form of endnotes at the conclusion of the movie telling us that Nixon never again played a prominent public role while Frost went on to become a famous celebrity.

This will probably go contrary to what members of the Academy will tell you, but the acting in Frost/Nixon is not impressive.  Langella delivers some funny lines, but his portrayal of Nixon from almost beginning to end of this film is that of a parody.  (Langella will probably receive some consideration for an Oscar because at least there is no question as to whom he is trying to play.)  Kevin Bacon is allowed no range whatsoever other than to play the most uptight and controlling of individuals.  Platt and Rockwell spend most of the movie looking distressed.  And Sheen, when not meekly smiling into the camera, plays the role of someone tortured by self-pity.  There really are no other memorable characters in the movie.

As a recitation of history, Howard might also want to be careful about using particular historical events familiar to many viewers.  The Frost/Nixon interviews in no way relegated Nixon to pariah status because of Nixon’s admission that he made some mistakes.  Besides the $600,000 or more that he made for conducting the interviews, interest in Nixon was revived, he received a great deal more in royalties for the books he had written, and the end result was that Nixon was able to rehabilitate his reputation.  Likewise, Frost made a fortune off of interviewing Nixon, so the interviews were actually to the benefit of both men.  But though Frost’s reputation was greatly enhanced from the Nixon’ interviews, that’s not to say that he was doing all that badly before the interviews took place.   Frost had already interviewed a number of British Prime Ministers and other significant political figures before he even spoke to Richard Nixon.  He wasn’t the ill-prepared bungler that everyone feared would be no match for Nixon.  And Frost also had previous success in interviewing artists, intellectuals and celebrities like John Lennon, Tennessee Williams, Joan Crawford and Barbara Streisand.   (By the way, an early reference in the movie about Frost’s lack of political involvement, as evidenced by the fact that he never voted for an American President, is slightly misleading.  David Frost was a British citizen.)

The movie seemed long for being 122 minutes in length, but that may be due to the number of bad previews I had to endure before the movie actually began.  (We may also want to tell Howard that the mock-documentary method for telling a story is not a clever innovation.)  The script wasn’t completely bad.  If the dialogue was accurately transcribed, Nixon may have had a better sense of humor than anyone formerly suspected.  Unfortunately, there was nothing ground breaking in this movie that would have provided a viewer any more knowledge of what occurred during the Nixon administration than one could have learned from the Congressional hearings in 1974.  And if Howard wanted to use Nixon as a critique of our about to be former President, George W. Bush, he may have wanted to make more than passing references to the Viet Nam War because that war would have the most significant parallel to the current situation in Iraq.

In forty years, we still have had no political movie that can compare with Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb.  In part, this is because movie producers and directors cannot put aside their party affiliation and speak with an independent voice.  In Frost/Nixon, Howard cannot put aside his political leanings to resist resorting to political parodies.  Howard has Nixon rave, utter racial epithets and stoop to personal attacks to manipulate the well-meaning Frost.  No where in the movie do we see anything more than unscrupulous behavior on the part of the ex-President so we are left to wonder what Nixon’s great appeal was to the American public in a political career that spanned nearly three decades.  The Nixon in the movie shows animal cunning but not a great deal of intelligence.   To portray Nixon as more than a parody would require for Howard to have to understand the complicated happenings in the United States and the world in the 1960s and ‘70s.  It would also mean for Howard to understand that a large number of people supported Nixon precisely because of his policies and not because they failed to see Nixon’s character flaws.  Nixon’s admission that he made some mistakes does not explain why the country allowed for the Viet Nam War to continue like it did.

What puzzles me about a movie like Frost/Nixon is why a director like Ron Howard would have wanted to take it on.  After Cinderella Man in 2005 and The Da Vinci Code in 2006, I don’t blame him for wanting to direct something that doesn’t insult the intelligence.  Yet the rah-rah, good guy beats the bad guy sentiment of Frost/Nixon is handled with no more subtlety than was previously shown in the portrayal of the saintly Jim Braddock fighting against the allegedly abhorrent Max Baer in Cinderella Man.  Ron Howard may have wanted to shed that naïve image of Opie in Mayberry or Richie Cunningham in Happy Days, but he’s going to have to make a much better movie than Frost/Nixon before that is ever going to occur.

© Robert S. Miller 2009

In Gran Torino, Clint Eastwood is in many ways playing Dirty Harry as an old man now plagued with doubts.  Yet the lead character played by Eastwood, Walt Kowalski, is undoubtedly the most soft-hearted racist one would ever meet.  It doesn’t take all that much to turn him from a bigot of more than seventy years into someone that has more fondness for his Hmong neighbors than he does for his own family.  Granted, he doesn’t have much affection for his own family to begin with, and his new found tenderness towards the Asian boy and girl next door is not always expressed appropriately.  Yet what Walt perceives of his neighbors is more in keeping with his own idea of family values than anything he was able to enforce upon his own offspring.

The film begins with Walt attending the funeral of his wife, probably the only person for which he had any respect.  Everything at the funeral displeases him from the way his grandchildren are dressed to the way the priest, Father Janovich (Christopher Carley) conducts the service.  His steely stare and his growls intimidate everyone including his sons Mitch (Brian Haley) and Steve (Brian Howe).  It is somewhat understandable why he doesn’t get along with his family because they seldom communicate with Walt without also expecting a favor in return.  Anyway, after the funeral is over, Walt is content to get rid of his family and drink beer and smoke cigarettes on the front porch with his dog Daisy lying beside him.  Father Janovich unsuccessfully tries to converse with Walt.  (Walt remarks to the priest that he is a 27-year old virgin with barely enough vigor to hold the hand of some old lady.)  So, left all to himself, Walt broods about the deterioration of his urban neighborhood that he blames on the influx of minorities moving in.

An isolated incident changes Walt’s life.  The neighbor Hmong boy, Thao (Bee Vang), as a part of a gang initiation, attempts to steel Walt’s 1972 Gran Torino.  This was the same vehicle that Walt had worked on himself some thirty-five years before while working at the Ford plant in Detroit.  Walt, a Korean War veteran with a penchant for guns, catches the boy in the act, points his rifle at neighbor boy and chases him away.  A few days later, when Walt witnesses the Asian gang attempting to drag Thao away so that the boy could conduct another errand for them, Walt intervenes by pointing his rifle at several members of the gang.  The gang, of course, is not pleased.  Thao’s family is so grateful to Walt that they begin delivering him food and plants, and Thao’s sister, Sue (Ahney Her), invites Walt over for a party at their house.  Sue, an intelligent and spirited eighteen year old girl, convinces Walt to meet all of the members of her family, and also expresses to Walt her concern for her younger brother.  At her behest, Walt puts Thao to work at a number of tasks and in essence becomes the mentor that he badly needs.  Thao and Sue’s father had also recently died.  As Sue explains to Walt, many of the Hmong girls grow up to attend college while many of the boys are killed or end up in jail.  Though Walt is only able to show it in the crudest of words and gestures, he comes to adore the two Hmong teenagers as much as any caring father.

Unfortunately, the Asian gang will not leave the Hmong family alone.  After one of the gang members burns Thao’s face with a cigarette, Walt tracks down the offending member and beats him up.  But instead of scaring the gang members off, the gang members instead take their revenge by strafing the Hmong family’s home with machine gun fire and assaulting and raping Sue.  Thao wants to take violent revenge upon the gang and asks Walt to assist.  Walt instead locks Thao in the basement, and then, by himself and without a gun, travels over to where the gang is located and deliberately provokes the gang into gunning him down.  Thus, all the gang members are arrested as accessories to murder.   In his will, Walt leaves Thao his most prized possession – the 1972 Gran Torino.

Though we are allegedly supposed to have been taken surprise by the way this movie ends, the movie’s storyline was predictable.  Eastwood as a director has habitually tried too hard to force his movies to go in unexpected directions and this has resulted in a contrived rather than an astonishing storyline.  Eastwood is not the complex moralist that he sometimes pretends to be.  Even so, the movie is not a bad one.  I don’t think that many more talented actors could have projected the kind of screen presence required to turn Walt into an arresting type of character like Clint Eastwood was able to do.  Most other individuals, including movie actors, have faces that say little.  Clint Eastwood, at the age of 78 and with a lined face, looks the part of someone that could rough up much younger men.   Yet he also looks like the curmudgeon whose heart could easily be melted by genuine people making a fuss over him.  For all his tough talk, Walt really cannot say no to the two teenagers who so desperately want to be dignified individuals in the face of pressures from others.  I think Walt’s conversion came about a bit too easily, but the personalities of the brother and sister are so engagingly brought about that Walt’s change of demeanor in regards to them does not surpass believability.

Outside of that of the three main leads, most of the rest of the acting in the movie is not memorable.   Someone older and perhaps a bit more ragged looking than Father Janovich would have been preferable.  Father Janovich’s naïve face and manner warrants Walt’s contempt, and I don’t think Walt would ever truly have respected him even in the end.  Most of Walt’s friends at the bar and at the barbershop are types that are almost cardboard.  The gang members are stereotypical villains, though I’m not going to give most gang members any credit for complexity or brains.  Thankfully, the family members of Thao and Sue (especially their grandmother played by Chee Thao) are delightful and sympathetically played.

Of course the movie is all about race relations.  Realistically portraying such a storyline on the screen is a rarity, and I don’t think Eastwood succeeds at projecting such a theme either.  As politically incorrect as many may deem it to be, the dialogue did not shock the audience that I saw in attendance at the movie.   I heard audience members laughing at the way Clint Eastwood delivered his lines, and not self-consciously.  From beginning to end of the movie, Walt is portrayed more as a crank with a great many redeeming attributes than one truly ashamed of what he has ever done or said.  Even in his confession to the priest – the only confession he had ever made – he only mentions three items, and none of them concern race.  We are to understand that most of the racial slurs he makes in the barbershop or neighborhood saloon were made either because of a lack of understanding or said in a humorous vein than were said with the true intent of injuring anyone.  Unfortunately, these are not the characteristics of most racist individuals, and Walt’s conversion in this movie is certainly not representative of the possibilities of eliminating racism as a whole.

Still, if one makes the inane assumption that the Oscar for Best Picture will actually be awarded to a movie of merit, Gran Torino is more deserving of the award than was Crash that was selected as “Best Picture” in 2004.  Crash portrayed about a dozen different people confronting the consequences of their own racist acts and feelings, yet we never get to know any single character deeply.  Whether or not he is typical of those that harbor racist feelings, we do get to know Walt very well in Gran Torino.  We don’t know anything about his childhood.  We do discover that he was in the Korean War and had to kill a number of enemy soldiers.  We do know that he worked in an auto assembly plant that manufactured American cars that over time have been replaced by ones made in Japan.  We know that he lived in a mostly white neighborhood for more than fifty years that was increasingly becoming run down and taken over by minorities in the Detroit area.  We deduce that Walt probably is dying of cancer.  We also know that he associated mostly with people that harbored the same kind of ideas that he did.  But what we get to know most about Walt is his self-sufficiency and his fiercely independent personality.  Fiercely independent people are frequently, and not always unfairly, characterized as anti-social individuals.  Yet independence in personality can also mean these same individuals are independent in thought and thus more likely to oppose what they perceive as an injustice. Walt was the kind of person that would not become prey to gangs or join organizations that he does not believe in.  It’s those that unreservedly join gangs, organizations, political parties, bureaucracies, or ideologies that are much more likely to become monsters and have no change of heart whatsoever.

Gran Torino is not a great movie.  It’s an old fashioned movie as symbolized by the car for which it is named.  The lead character is also a throwback.  Yet with the amount of mediocre films that are all we see in the mainstream theatres, Gran Torino is about a good of a film as we can expect to be released from any major studio.

 © Robert S. Miller 2008

Much of the first half of Slumdog Millionaire consists of representation after representation of possibly the worst poverty in the world in the city now known as Mumbai.  The film’s many flaws are easily forgivable because, despite depicting a society irretrievably broken, it is a piteous plea for decency in a place where it is most needed.  Two brothers, Jamal (played by Ayush Mahesh as a young child, by Tanay Hemant Chheda as a teenager and Dev Patel as an adult) and Salim (Azharuddin Muhammad Ismail as child, Ashutosh Lobo Gajiwala as a teenager and Madhur Mittal Prem Anil Kapoor as adult) are joined by a neighborhood girl named Latika (Rubina Ali as child, Tanvi Ganesh Lonkar as teenager and Freida Pinto as adult) in their “escapades,” and almost predictably refer to themselves as “The Three Musketeers.”  The children play cricket on airport runways, rummage through garbage heaps for anything to help them survive, witness their mother (Sanchita Choudhary) and other Moslem neighbors killed by a mob of enraged Hindus, are enslaved by the most ruthless of local opportunists, Maman (Ankur Vikal) and witness an acquaintance of theirs be blinded at the hands of Maman to enhance this child’s ability to beg on the streets.  The tedium of their situation is only slightly relieved at one point when the two brothers escape, discover the Taj Mahal, and make themselves into self appointed tour guides for the gullible foreign tourists (made up greatly of Americans). However, Jamal (always cursed by too tender of heart) is determined to free Latika from the grips of Maman before she is forced into prostitution.

Interwoven is the story of the adult Jamal featured as a contestant on the India equivalent of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire.  Jamal remarkably wins 20 million rupees on the show, but because of his background the authorities become suspicious that he may have cheated.  And so in a series of flashbacks, Jamal explains (under the most brutal of interrogations) how he knows what the god, Rama, held in his right hand, how he knew that Benjamin Franklin was on the American one-hundred dollar bill (though he can’t name Gandhi as being on the 100 rupee note), how he knew that Samuel Colt had invented the revolver, and how he knew about India’s greatest celebrity and greatest cricket player.  His knowledge of these things could almost always be traced back to some memorable and often tragic incident that he would recall from his childhood.  The chief interrogator eventually lets Jamal go because he becomes convinced of Jamal’s remarkable honesty.  Jamal never feels the need to veer from the truth because, no matter how sadistic the interrogators may have been, Jamal had already in his young life faced so much more that was even worse.

The story does not end completely on a happy note.  Jamal’s violent and passionate brother, Salim, twice saves both Latika and Jamal from a life of poverty and probably death.  Salim first shoots Maman to death with a revolver he kept that no one else knew about, and Salim is then immediately recruited by Javed (Mahesh Manjrekar) the crime syndicate chieftain for much of the city.  Eventually, Salim even kills Javed to allow Latika to escape and rejoin Jamal, but in the process Salim is also killed by Javed’s goons.  Latika and Jamal reunite and we are to assume finally escape their lives of poverty with Jamal’s winnings from the game show.

With a plot as improbable as the one we are given in Slumdog Millionaire, it should be no surprise that certain aspects of the movie come off as a bit too slick or even contrived.  That the three main characters survived even as long as they did would, under the circumstances, be a great stretch.  We no doubt know that with India being a nation of one billion people, Jamal’s winnings on the game show are truly a one in a billion shot.  Yet movie audiences are so enthralled with the characters of Latika and Jamal that there was no question the director had to give them an ending more befitting than what would happen in almost all other incidents involving children in similar circumstances.  Artistically speaking, we had to give them a beautiful ending because the two characters were such beautiful people.  The movie is so tinged in realism throughout much of its showing that the director is justified in doing so.  (The director by the way was Danny Boyle, who also directed Trainspotting, the graphic depiction of a number of characters injecting themselves with all sorts of narcotics.)  I’m guessing that a note of optimism had to be incorporated into an otherwise depressing film so that movie members would not walk away with the feeling that it would be futile to even try to combat the kind of poverty portrayed.

It goes without saying that there is no excuse for the misery that the children of Mumbai must endure on a daily basis.  Director Boyle mostly shies away from pointing fingers at who are to blame for the situation with the possible exception of focusing in on corrupt local officials that do nothing to prevent local adults from exploiting others.  Perhaps he is right in doing so because listing all those that are to blame would be endless.  Nietzsche said that no one is as great of a liar as the indignant person.  It’s easy to get angry at the situation we see portrayed on the screen, but what are we doing to improve it?  The most I do is write about it and maybe throw in a dollar or two in the Salvation Army buckets hanging outside of shopping malls.  Meanwhile, the dollars I consume in a day are almost as much as that consumed by these children during an entire year.  (We can only hope that they receive some sort of spiritual benefit that may be foreign to the rest of us.)  Capitalist societies will sing the mantra of free trade as a remedy as if this in itself would be doing the third-word nations a great favor.  What they are really doing is replacing more expensive American labor with incredibly cheap labor that the poor people in these nations are far too desperate to refuse to deliver.  Marxist nations have promised to eliminate the exploiter but in reality have only replaced individual exploiters with bureaucratic and governmental exploiters that are much more difficult to get rid of.  Take Cuba.  Fifty years later and the Castro’ regime have done nothing to improve the situation of the nation that they took over from Fulgencio Batista.  (Admittedly, like all good Communists, Fidel Castro was much more adept at blaming others for his country’s problems than was his predecessor.)  What about religion?  Well, mobs of one angry religion tend to take it out on another religion that they do not agree with.  In the film, we had Hindus killing Moslems.  Recently, we had Moslems killing over 170 people at the Taj Mahal hotel.  Do we blame the individual gunmen, the religious sects, the governments of Pakistan or India, or the entire world for allowing the city to become such a cesspool for poverty and thus an area easily exploited by terrorists for carefully planned strategic purposes?

In this 120 minute film, Boyle attempts to show at least a couple of characters deserving of admiration and therefore worthy of our efforts to maybe make life better for them.  That the film is a bit too much of a crowd pleaser does not detract from what Boyle attempted to do.  The acting of the three main characters and much of the supporting cast (almost all newcomers or amateurs) is tremendous.  The storytelling would not work if the film was less gruesomely realistic and if it did not bring out the attributes of three such compelling leads.  I would almost rather have Slumdog Millionaire gain attention for not winning any Academy Awards than have it accepted as a mainstream film.  Because if this film does become mainstream it would probably only be because so much of the audience failed to be disturbed and thoughtfully transfigured into something better by watching the movie.

© Robert S. Miller 2008

The farm my mother grew up upon was remarkably similar to those seen in the movie Sweet Land.  Sadly, the positive role of the family farm, the country church and the immigrant may now be a part of the American past.  The sheer cost of running a farm has now made ownership of one largely prohibitive for most families and as a result farms are more and more being run by corporations.  The loss of a rural populace has made the demise of the country church inevitable.  And the only role of the immigrant in rural America anymore is as a migrant worker and never as a landowner.  That the immigrant will ever again play an important part in our economy is largely improbable since most of the tasks they could perform are being outsourced to other nations.

In Sweet Land, Olaf (played by Tim Guinee as a young man) is a young farmer in Minnesota that has emigrated from Norway.  Olaf goes to the railroad station with his friend Elvin Frandsen (Alan Cumming) to pick up his mail order bride.  Olaf is under the assumption that he is picking up a good Norwegian girl, and only later does he discover that she was raised in Germany.  Since World War I has just ended, the prospects of a successful and happy marriage with a German girl are small.  Olaf meets the young Inge (Elizabeth Reaser), his bride to be, whose belongings consist of a couple of bags and a large phonograph record player that we assume that she has carried upon her lap all the way over from Europe.  Inge knows virtually no English, and Olaf cannot communicate with her in the German tongue.  It’s only through the intervention of Minister Sorrensen (John Heard), who is in charge of the rural Lutheran Church that Olaf and other farmers in the area attend, does Olaf learn the truth about his fiancé’s immigrant status.  This makes for a number of difficulties.  What paperwork Inge can provide does not indicate whether she has entered America legally or whether she had ever been involved in espionage as a German citizen.  What the paperwork does indicate is that she was considered a member of the Socialist Party in Germany.  Though Inge never gives any indication during the movie of having any political leanings whatsoever, she immediately arouses suspicion among the entire rural community.  That and the fact she likes to dance and makes black coffee with too many beans arouses the minister’s indignation to the point that he refuses to marry the young couple.

Olaf, though sometimes slow to comprehend and being a man with little imagination, is still a decent man.  He allows Inge to sleep at his house while he sleeps in the hayloft in the barn.  In all things, he is respectful to the longings and privacy of Inge.  And though Olaf has a falling out with his church that also results in his temporarily losing the friendship of his neighbor Frandsen, Olaf is extremely shrewd when it comes to the business of farming.  Unlike Frandsen, he refuses to do business with the bank run by Harmo (Ned Beatty).  As Olaf says to Harmo when the latter first meets Inge, banking and farming do not mix.  While Olaf has seen the magnificent potential of the new farm machinery, he also understands that the price of the new mechanizations often leave the farmer too badly in debt in hopes of ever owning the farmland free and clear.  Olaf and Inge farm his entire plot of land virtually by hand.  Yet with his wisdom, Olaf still manages to make the most foolish and yet noble decision of any character within the film.  Olaf makes a bid of $7,000 upon Frandsen’s farm rather than allow his estranged friend’s land from being foreclosed by the bank.  Since Olaf does not actually have the $7,000 to back this bid up, it then puts his own farm at risk of foreclosure.

The goodness of Olaf is in great part due to the influence of Inge.  Inge, being the beautiful person that she is, comes to dominate the entire story.  The few words of English that Inge learns to speak throughout the course of the movie are spoken with great intelligence and passion.  Inge turns out to be feisty and alive regardless of how seemingly isolated she is because of her inability to speak the English language.  She becomes a source of refuge for Frandsen’s wife, Brownie (Alex Kingston), as the two make and then consume one of Brownie’s pies.  Inge, at one point losing her patience with Olaf, makes Olaf understand that he must have dreams as even “duckies” have dreams.  Finally, she makes the minister understand that, whatever her status with the law or the church may be, she and Olaf are married because she feels it in the heart.  The minister’s legalistic interpretations of religion are no argument for what Inge feels and says.  It is primarily because of the impression that Inge makes upon those around her that the church and Olaf’s neighbors come up with $7,000 to prevent Olaf’s farm from being foreclosed.

Towards the end of the movie, we see the elderly Inge (Lois Smith) with her elderly and now somewhat deranged neighbor, Frandsen (Paul Sand), and also with Inge’s son.  Though likely forbidden by law, Inge is determined to bury her late husband, Olaf, on the same land that he had farmed for more than forty years.  Inge refuses to abide by any nonsensical convention up until the very end.  Likewise, a few years later, Inge’s son and young granddaughter bury Inge’s casket next to that of her husband.  Thus, the two immigrants end their long journey that began for the both of them in Europe and ended on a rural farm in southern Minnesota.  Probably, most of the farm land will eventually end up in the hands of developers.  We never know for sure if this is the case, but we learn that this will be the decision facing the son that, upon the death of Inge, has inherited the land.

On its face, Sweet Land is a simple story about complicated social conventions.  Sweet Land, at least among the movies I have seen, I believe to be the best movie to be released in 2005.  In fact, I would be tempted to say it has been the best movie released during the last decade.  The movie is full of symbolism from the bank to the church to the phonograph record player to pie to geese and to the land itself.  Yet none of the symbolism ever diminishes the film’s realism.  Nothing in the film is beyond the realm of believability.  And though the film in the end tells a tender story, it is never a film where the sentimentality is overstated – though one could see while watching the film how this could likely have occurred.  The dozen or so words of English that the young Inge learns throughout the film are all she really needs to speak.  Olaf, too, is a person of few words, though he does know how to speak English.  What’s most impressive about his character is that he does grow through the process of the movie.  Likewise, Frandsen, as unreliable as he is, has a human side that makes him one hundred times more appealing than the odious Harmo, the banker that sees no worth in anything that does not involve the exchange of dollar bills.  Even the dogmatic Minister Sorrensen succumbs to decency in the end because his services are so dependent upon the survival of those that work the land.

Yet what a sad movie Sweet Land is in the respect that we can see an America that is now probably lost.  This was our fault.  There was no need to place farmers at the mercy of politicians or to lower the price of a bushel of corn to the point where the farmer was priced right out of the market.  That corn, which used to be a staple of the American diet, is now being marketed for the production of ethanol.   Unfortunately, the promise of new profits from the corn will not benefit the farm houses that are now largely abandoned.  We no longer have these great entrepreneurs that worked the land.  Especially, we will never again have the kind of farmer that harvested the crop by the use of horses or mules.  The children of farmers are now moving to urban areas to find employment and will have less contact with their neighbors living thirty feet away than their parents did that lived more than a mile away from the next closest home.  Whether banking and farming does or does not mix, the two in any case have now become completely intertwined.  The film Sweet Land only gives us a foreboding of what it was that farmers like Inge and Olaf would have had to face when doing business banks because Inge and Olaf at least were able to remain upon the land.  Not all of our ancestors would have that same kind of luck.

Sweet Land is 111 minutes in length, was an independent film directed by an Egyptian immigrant by the name of Ali Selim (which seems especially unlikely when one considers it takes place on a Midwestern farm and involves European immigrants), was based on a short story by a Minnesota writer named Will Weaver, and contains marvelously restrained acting that would be required in a movie about a bunch of stoic farmers.  But beyond telling a story that was deliberately intended to be moving, it also communicates a theme that necessitates the need of maintaining a sense of self and a need of sometimes violating social convention to avoid spiritual starvation in a hostile land where one could very easily die from feelings of isolation.  During the months of January and February, wind chills of fifty or sixty below are not uncommon among the Minnesota plains.  Survival is dependent upon hard work and good luck.  One’s social life might revolve around potluck suppers in the church basement.  Assistance may only be forthcoming from those that one meets on Sunday mornings.  As Sweet Land shows, neither the farms, the churches nor the communities surrounding them would ever have survived without the decency of those that contributed towards these institutions.  And it’s possible that greed, small-mindedness and self-righteousness have made this kind of life impossible and just about disappear.

© Robert S. Miller 2008

I would like to convey to United States Secretary of Treasury Henry Paulson, Secretary of Treasury Designate Timothy Geithner, United States President George W. Bush and President-Elect Barack Obama the following sentiment: I, Robert S. Miller, play a vital role in the American Economy.  This may seem like boasting, but please think about this for a moment.  Hollywood alone is taking in approximately $15 billion annually at the box office.  This does not include revenue generated by independent studios or by the major television networks.  This also does not include major shifts in policy brought on due to the influence of these media sources.  Yet name one major movie critic that is there to responsibly evaluate what the film makers are delivering to the general viewing public in such a manner that misinformation can be sifted out.  I actually don’t care how many people watch some particular film.   I’m more hoping that the viewers actually think for themselves when watching the film.  It’s fine if they agree with me, but if they disagree with me so much the better.  And besides the movie critics, I don’t want Bill Moyers, Matt Drudge, David Brooks, Chris Matthews, Cokie Roberts, George Will or Arianna Huffington telling people how to think, either.  These individuals do a great disservice by playing arbiter rather than mediator of the truth.  For example, just the other day I heard Ms. Huffington proclaim that the progressives have won the day in the battle of words concerning the impact of the Iraqi War begun under the George W. Bush administration.  Yet if this was the case, why has the war been projected to continue until 2011 – three years into the Obama administration?  Maybe Ms. Huffington has only been successful in converting a certain segment of the population to her way of thinking while failing to convince the rest.  Whether she is right or wrong, I’m happy that at least a portion of the population disagrees with her.

And so beyond the $700 billion already allocated by Congress and the Senate to salvage the economy, we probably have a trillion dollars more being proposed to rescue various industries in the United States.  Much of that money is to be reinvested in businesses that would otherwise fail without assistance by the government.  “Goodness is the only investment that never fails,” said Henry David Thoreau.  I realize that this comes very close to sounding like self-righteous twaddle, but I do think this quote comes at least somewhat close to defining what has gone wrong on Wall Street.  The banking industry was made up of executives that approved loans that would at least temporarily improve the stock portfolio for their investors, and then they sold their own stock before the rest of the nation was to learn that the portfolio was too good to be true.  The banks are now being bailed out.  Also, the United States Government has long pointed to the automobile manufacturers (and in particular, the “Big Three”) as to being the number one contributor to pollution in the nation and in the world.  One particular former senator has in fact made a fortune for himself and won himself a Nobel Prize by claiming that manmade global warming is the major issue of our day.  Yet now we have longtime supporters of that former senator (namely Barney Frank and Nancy Pelosi) claiming that the automobile industry, and particularly those three companies that have failed to market environmental and energy saving innovations, must be bailed out (without overtly saying that the economy has now trumped environmental concerns). 

Now economists such as Thomas Friedman and Nobel Prize Winner Paul Krugman have jumped on the bailout bandwagon.  Please note that both of these best selling authors and commentators are assuredly millionaires that can readily identify with the needs of the middle-class.  Friedman is particularly ingratiating in providing unsolicited advice with his The World is Flat folksy analogies of the wonders of a global economy.  Friedman is very good at predicting the ten great trends towards globalization … after the fact.  He also writes movingly about advancements taking place in India due to globalization, though I haven’t yet heard him suggest that maybe India is not as flat as he previously thought following the terrorist attacks in Mumbai.  Maybe it will take more than globalization to make terrorism go away.  Or maybe it was precisely because of globalization where industries move their companies to other countries to exploit the cheap labor that they can find in these nations that made Mumbai an ideal target for terrorists where these terrorists could strike back at one more symbol of the modern world (just as they struck at New York City on September 11, 2001).  Maybe the global economy is not as simple as these economists would have us believe, and maybe it requires more forethought than simply bailing out companies that are “too big to fail.”  These two economists have changed their story by now pushing for short-term economic solutions that they believe are absolutely essential.  They are now all about corporate welfare, deficit spending and other inflationary policies that ten years ago they would have claimed to abhor.  On the other hand, these two scholars did show a lack of foresight in not earlier predicting a credit crunch.  I don’t know why they failed to see ten years ago that there was a problem with banks when incredibly easy credit was handed out and even college students were being handed out credit card applications while lounging on the beaches of Daytona for spring-break.

At risk of boring you some more, let’s take a closer look at a recent column by Friedman that appeared in the New York Times on December 7, 2008.  Friedman says: “Our kids should be so much more radical than they are today. I understand why they aren’t. They’re so worried about just getting a job or paying next semester’s tuition. But we must not take their quietism as license to do whatever we want with this bailout cash.”   This is typical of Friedman who often condescends to those he claims to care for.  Maybe Friedman should be more radical in not kissing up to every interest that will provide him with a future speaking engagement.  Friedman goes on to say: “They are going to have to pay this money back. And therefore, we have an incredibly weighty obligation to make sure that we not only spend every stimulus dollar wisely but also with an eye to creating new technologies.”  I’m glad that he wants for the government to spend the money wisely, but I think that was something that should have been considered before he started pushing for the bailout to begin with.  Should the spending of this amount have been accomplished with such ease?  Friedman, an outspoken critic of the Bush administration, pushed for putting $700 billion in the hands of the Bush administration.  “Let’s get specific. When it comes to Detroit, my views are clear: I think we should be talking about ‘bail,’ not ‘bailouts,’ regarding the people running the Big Three car companies and the lawmakers who mindlessly protected them for so long. Still, I do not want to see jobs destroyed.”  That’s very generous of Friedman to be concerned about the workers in Detroit.  However, in opposition to the stance of the autoworkers’ union, Friedman has been one of the strongest advocates of globalization.  I haven’t heard him complain when General Motors sent more than thirty-five thousand jobs away from Michigan and down to Mexico.  “But if taxpayers are going to give Detroit money, we must not entrust the spending to people who have run their businesses into the ground.”  That statement is impossible to disagree with.  But please, please Mr. Friedman, tell us how you are going to prevent that from occurring short of the senate voting against the bailout.  Unfortunately, I believe that Thomas Friedman is going to have his wish to see General Motors bailed out when every major newspaper left in the country prints the headline: “General Motors Has Filed for Bankruptcy!”  At that point, all opposition to bailing out the “Big Three” will almost disappear.

I wonder if there has ever been any sole proprietorship, partnership, limited partnership, limited liability partnership, joint venture, franchise, corporation of any size (be it charitable or “for profit”), religious organization or government bureaucracy that has come before the halls of Congress and stated: “We’re too little to fail.”  Does it make any less sense than saying we’re too big to fail?  In 1988, a movie came out named Tucker that was based upon the real life adventures of an inventor named Preston Tucker.  Tucker built an automobile with safety features (including seat belts) well ahead of its time, and also introduced to the automobile industry the concept of an energy efficient design.  Of course, Tucker was never actually able to compete with the “Big Three” (remember, the companies now wishing to be bailed out), but many of the features of his design were later implemented into other automobiles.  The movie, of course, was a vast oversimplification of what really occurred because what also brought Tucker down were allegations that he had participated in stock fraud.  Still, wouldn’t it have been nice for an innovator to have remained in business instead of failing because the company was in competition with other companies “too big to fail”?  It is good to remember that John D. Rockefeller, Andrew Carnegie and, of course, Henry Ford all came from humble backgrounds and started businesses that are now “too big to fail” with much less promise of success than even Tucker had in his business entrepreneurship.  Yet no one ever considers that if we need to bail out businesses at all, maybe a small to medium sized business would be as great of an investment as anything else.  The excuse, of course, is that we can’t do that because we have no way of knowing which little businesses will succeed and which ones will fail.  The commentators seem to think we can predict which big businesses will succeed or fail with the prescience of Nostradamus.

So why not bail out me?  I don’t get paid for my commentary and, other than my own personal biasness I have little incentive to take one side versus the other in any debate.  I don’t even want to appease anyone by delivering a glowing review about something they did or said.  I just want to express what I think with the hopes of having the appearance of wisdom on my side and maybe turning the minds of one or two readers in another direction.  Am I asking too much?  All I ask for is just enough money so that I can devote myself fulltime to writing without worries of retribution if I happen to skewer one of my intended victims with words.  I shall wait patiently for a response from the Federal Government.  They can leave their response upon my website if they so wish.

© Robert S. Miller 2008

“Joey, do you like movies about Gladiators?”

Peter Graves in Airplane

When friends of mine suggest a movie to watch, I feel obligated to humor them.  Generally, I’ll painstakingly sit through the entire showing without comment, hesitate to make too many disparaging remarks immediately after the film is over, and hope my friend never reads what I actually think of the movie.  The film 300 almost fits that billing.  I’m not even quite sure how to summarize it in more than a couple of hundred words.

King Leonidas (Gerald Butler) is the Spartan King at the time of the Battle of Thermopylae in 480 B.C. when the Persians, led by Xerxes (Rodrigo Santoro), come to conquer Hellas.  Leonidas is married to Queen Gorgo (Lena Headey), who will do anything for her man - including allowing herself to be raped by the chief political opponent of Leonidas, Theron (Dominic West) (who rather than be a soldier sits on the council of Hellas).  With Theron on the council and all the in-bred priests opposed to the Spartans waging war against the Persians, Leonidas decides to defy all the powers-that-be among the Spartan governing powers and marches off to face the wicked Xerxes that desires nothing more than to make all Spartan men bow to him on their knees.  Xerxes has at his disposal anywhere from 100,000 to 2,000,000 men.  Leonidas only has 300 choice soldiers.  Yet for four days through superior soldiering, strategic planning and sheer manliness, the Spartans manage to inflict heavy casualties and numerous decapitations upon the Persians.  Delios (David Wenham), blinded in one eye, was sent by Leonidas to tell the Hellenes about what occurred.   Only because they are so badly outnumbered do the 300 Spartans finally lose, yet inspiring the remaining Hellenes to eventually rise up against the Persians and cast them from their soil in 479 B.C. in the Battle of Plataea.  By the way, Theron received his come-uppance at a council meeting when Gorgo stabbed him with a sword (and coins fell from Theron’s pockets proving conclusively that he was in the pay of Xerxes).

Exciting?  Yes, though much of the action is computer generated.  Historically accurate?  Only to the extent that the Battle of Thermopylae and Plataea are actually cited by Herodotus.  Appealing to the eye?  Not really, unless you enjoy male body-building contests with men clothed in nothing but sandals, shorts and a cape, and are not too particular that the six-pack abs of most of the actors are also computer generated.  What little dialogue that there is in the film was mostly borrowed from other sources.  Leonidas shouts out the word “freedom” almost as much as Mel Gibson does in Braveheart.  The stirring speech that Leonidas gives how what will be remembered is that few stood up to many basically paraphrases what Arnold Schwarzenegger says in Conan the Barbarian.  And when Queen Gorgo makes the pronouncement that “freedom isn’t free,” I just about put the movie on pause to find out whether this quote was copyrighted by President George W. Bush.  Frankly, the movie is little more than a sophisticated video game, and the graphics are not that much more impressive than what appeared in Jason and the Argonauts in the theatres some forty-five years ago.  For those upset by such things, the film 300 is excessively violent though without the perception of blood spraying everywhere.  The film also throws in some gratuitous sex, but it’s of the kind that would probably bore even a closet voyeur.  And the slow falling bodies of the dead, the hideous creatures and the gargantuan size of Xerxes fail to enthuse because we know that most of the movie was filmed in a studio in Montreal and we’re now used to such studio generated tricks.

The movie was directed by Zack Snyder, best known for his film Dawn of the Dead.  It’s based upon Frank Miller’s novel by the same name, and the film apparently is very similar to the book (making one wonder if the manuscript wasn’t written in crayon).  The film is 117 minutes long and could easily have been cut-down by thirty or forty minutes.  Still, it has its moments.  At least Wenham, as Delios, actually does a fairly decent job of acting. 

For those that like this kind of film genre, the film 300 is as good as anything else.  However, those that like particular genres are usually the most sensitive so I have to be careful.  Never tell someone into musicals that you can’t stand Singing in the Rain or lovers of Hitchcock’ films that North by Northwest would have been better if Cary Grant had really been strafed by machine gun bullets.  But for those of us not into a particular genre we do have to go lightly on which particular movie we watch.  For example, here, the movie 300 does not pretend to be a major motion picture like Gladiator or Braveheart so we don’t have to pretend to take 300 so seriously.  Also, there is a minimum of melodrama in 300 (though it does still exist) only because the actors spend more time fighting and less time talking during the span of the film than most movies of its ilk.  And unlike these other two films that I just mentioned, the movie 300 does not feature such big-named major motion picture stars that we have to take an actors’ ego into account when viewing the film.  I like Russell Crowe as an actor and (occasionally) like Mel Gibson as a director and actor, but the two are known crackpots and I feel no obligation to praise any movie simply because one of the two happens to be in a starring role.

The movie 300 is a cheap thrill that one can take or leave.

© Robert S. Miller 2008

I’ve written about the Iowa Caucus and the conventions for both major political parties, so I suppose I should say something about the general election.  However, if I honestly felt I had nothing more to say than what has already been printed in the newspapers and editorials I would hope that I wouldn’t say anything at all.  People speak too freely about politics as if only their side had any relevance.  We see our neighbors stick up their campaign signs or slap political bumper stickers on the back of their cars and we immediately form an opinion of them.  If that opinion is negative, we immediately put up campaign signs of our own as if that sort of statement makes us seem superior.  The other side is always wrong, more biased or engages in more negative campaigning.  This seems obvious, or so we think, because the other side’s media sources are loaded with misinformation.

Close to a quarter of a million people were in Grant Park where Barak Obama made his first public appearance after it was announced that he was elected to be President.  I suppose it was to be expected that there would be a lot of celebration going on.  This was a victory for the black youth in the crowd and for the civil rights’ workers that had sacrificed so much during the 1960s.  These individuals have a right to celebrate.  And then there are the rest.  Outside of telling them to go to hell, I’m not sure how to respond to Bruce Springsteen, Sheryl Crow and Oprah Winfrey for feeling duty bound to tell the rest of us how to vote.  Likewise, to be fair, in Arizona where John McCain gave what was probably the most gracious concession speech I’ve ever heard, celebrity supporters like Patricia Heaton and John Voight can sulk and go home to their million dollar mansions after learning that their candidate lost.  Most of us cannot fully comprehend what we have at stake in such an election to get emotional about the outcome, and the best action we can take is to wait.

There is something to be said about Barak Obama, however.  I was struck by how alone he looked when he walked out on the stage to give his speech.  Unlike his running mate, Joe Biden, he doesn’t seem to enjoy himself when he’s speaking to the crowds.  Certainly, Obama is very good at giving speeches, but I doubt he believes in all of the hype.  I hope he doesn’t anyway or else the slogan for “change” and the chant, “Yes we can!” is going to get old very quickly.   Obama, like many other intelligent men, has probably had to look interested while having to endure the opinions of many individuals convinced of their own genius that have never uttered an original thought in their entire existences.   To be elected, Obama has had to depend on many individuals that he may not like and say things that he may not necessarily believe.  Yet to be a great leader (or so I imagine the politicians all tell themselves) he also must have the confidence to believe that his abilities make all the minor deceptions necessary if that is what it takes to be elected.  Every President from Washington to Lincoln to George W. Bush probably needed to do the same thing.  Such seeming aloofness that Obama happens to exhibit was also characteristic of great and unflappable Presidents like Jefferson and Lincoln.  On the other hand, these qualities were also at least partially responsible for the overreaching of the Wilson and Nixon administrations.  Woodrow Wilson and Richard Nixon were men with lonely thoughts left unchecked because neither had any real friends to share them with and put matters into perspective.

The election was not a landslide, but it also was not particularly close.  A five percent advantage is somewhat substantial when you consider that neither major candidate was an incumbent.  The Democrats did a better job of blaming the other side for the looming “financial crisis” that we’ve heard so much about since the month of September.  Really, both parties were to blame.  The Republicans have done nothing to keep down government spending and probably have spent too much time bailing out big business no matter what mantras it has repeated concerning the merits of the free market.  Yet while Democrats bemoan what they call “corporate welfare” on the part of the Republican Party, they fail to acknowledge that it’s the very growth of the government that especially occurred between the years of 1932 to 1968 that allowed the government the ability to prop up large corporations and to make determinations as to what industries should succeed and what businesses should fail.  This eventually resulted in more corporate mergers of mega companies occurring than in anytime in history since the 1990s.  We’ve heard recent justifications of the Wall Street bailout that emphasize the point that many banks and businesses are now “too big to fail.”  Yet how these businesses went from big companies to corporate conglomerates was that the corporations received favorable loans while the sole proprietorships and small partnerships disappeared.  These same small businesses were simply unable to compete and had no hopes of ever being bailed out by the government.  (I say this at the risk of sounding too much like Ralph Nader, the consumer advocate and third-party candidate that probably would have done no more to absolve the abuses of government than anyone else running for President, and who has now further embarrassed himself by referring to the first African American elected as President as being an “Uncle Tom.”)

Much of the Republican Party establishment has probably failed to appreciate what has just occurred, or understand the role that they have played in the defeat of their chosen candidate.  John McCain was a decent choice that had little chance of winning, no matter who he may have chosen for his running mate.  Yet the choice of Sarah Palin was indicative as to how far the Republican base would go to sabotage his campaign.  Palin, whatever her qualifications to be Vice President truly could be (and the American’ media did everything in its power to tell us that those qualifications were not there), was McCain’s gift to the conservative pundits that would rather sacrifice an election than concede that many of their ideals were politically and socially impalpable.  No emotionally secure individual should ever feel threatened by the personal behavior of others that in no way physically threatens other individuals.  The behavior may irritate us, but there are better ways to deal with irritation than legislation or amendments to constitutions that promise retribution.  And I'm all for decency because there is so little of it in much of our culture, but decency can seldom be created by decree.  If the Republican Party continues to claim they are the supporters of limited government and strong national defense, let them stop looking around the country and the world to pick fights with individuals too conscience stricken to even once in their life have picked up a gun.  To continue claiming we live in a free society, we have to drop a social agenda that does not allow private individuals to do what they want or else the concept of freedom becomes a fiction.  And the Republicans are as guilty of using the tax code for social engineering as any Democrat.  If they truly believe in the use of tax cuts to relieve the burden of the middle class, make the tax cuts universal rather than engineering complicated tax breaks that only individuals with six and seven figure incomes can take advantage of.

Yet the Democratic Party also needs to stop short of showing glee by proclaiming the demise of the Republican Party.   For one, they need to keep in mind that similar pronouncements were made about the Democratic Party after the reelection of George W. Bush in 2004.  For two, a party that has a platform of advancing civil rights and civil liberties (and helping the poor) while at the same time advocating a stronger centralized government may not appreciate how schizophrenic holding such differing objectives can be.  That same strong and centralized government besides bringing us Woodrow Wilson, Franklin Delano Roosevelt and John F. Kennedy also brought us Lyndon Baines Johnson, Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush that used their executive powers contrary to what the liberal establishment may have wanted to achieve.  (Yes, I know that LBJ was a Democrat, but today’s Democrat is not particularly nostalgic about Johnson’s policies concerning the war in Viet Nam.)  Big Government is almost impossible to reign in no matter what well meaning justifications and legislative acts are created by the most tolerant and enlightened of individuals.  Somehow, governmental control eventually gets in the hands of the wrong people.

And then there is the Iraqi’ War.  The latest discussion has been that there may not be any major withdrawal of the troops until 2011.  The dirty and not so well kept secret about the Democratic Party is, despite all of their pious talk of “bringing the troops home,” that the party leadership (Clinton, Kerry and Edwards) has voted to fund the war from the very beginning and have never truly faced George Bush down on the issue.  I know, “Bush lied,” and this is the major justification they can give for caving into a President they claim to have never trusted.  The reason that Obama has escaped scrutiny is because he was not in the United States Senate when the major proposals were voted on in 2002, 2003 and 2004.  When he takes office, Obama will have a Democratic controlled Senate and Congress behind him, so we will see if he truly does move up the timetables for withdrawal.  However, I think that opponents of the war should prepare to be disappointed.

What is an interesting aside to every Presidential election is the lament concerning lack of voter turnout.  Actually, in the last three elections since 2000 voter turnout has increased.  This year’s election showed voter turnout rates nationwide at somewhere around 64 percent, the highest rates we have seen in forty years.  This is actually quite low compared to the rate in many European nations, but I for one am not one of those persons distressed by this fact.  We do have more college educated people today, so it’s not surprising that rates are somewhat growing.  Yet I’m not particularly interested in having my vote cancelled out by a bunch of undecided voters that finally cast their ballot based upon a bunch of drivel that they have recently heard on television.  Now perhaps I am being uncharitable in making such a statement because I sometimes do tend to judge people too harshly.  However, the voter that says they did not decide on whom to vote for until they actually entered the voter booth does not sound like a promising prospect to me.  What motivated them to make their choice?  One candidate’s name was listed further up on the ballot than the others?  One’s name was too difficult to pronounce so they lost a vote?  One candidate’s name sounded like a close relative?  I understand struggling with what candidate to vote for, but I certainly hope that the struggle is over something relevant and had been thought about over the course of many months.  We tend to blame the candidates and the media for not informing us about what is going on.  It’s not their fault.  That information is already out there if we really want to look for it.  The candidates and media by mouthing platitudes are merely providing us with the information being requested by the very most important individuals voting in every election: the undecided voters.  In short, the message is being dumbed down precisely for them.  We don’t need an educated electorate.  What we need is an experienced electorate whose knowledge is derived from a direct connection with the world and senses the direct consequences of what will occur if a certain official is elected.  I heard somewhere that young voters did not turn out to a much greater degree in this election than they did in 2004.  If that’s the case, it is only going to cost them because eventually politicians and everyone else are going to quit caring for what they think.

And in an election that was all about “change,” let’s deeply consider a few things before we try to throw the old items out.  Let’s pause and consider why items like the Electoral College, our method of voter registration, our crazy private institutions (i.e. businesses, churches and the press) that don’t always seem in tune with the wishes of our government, and the cantankerous electorate have functioned so effectively for so long - though no one has every really diagnosed why.  We live in an ungrateful nation if we don’t see that so many traditions have worked better here than almost anywhere else.  (My only wish now is that I will not be beleaguered in 2016 with arguments over the Presidential election of 2008 as we have been beleaguered for the past eight years concerning the election of 2000 and how the outcome could have been different.)

To state the obvious, Barak Obama is our first elected African American President.  That is one thing that should have been made allowable more than 200 years ago, and it shouldn’t have just come allowable at this point in time.  I wish the President–Elect well.  Other than a few Republican hopefuls that are now looking towards the Congressional elections of 2010, it benefits none of us if Obama ends up being a failure as a leader.  However, as with any President that is always a possibility, and we should do our best not to let this destroy our lives if the new President does not live up to our expectations.  When our happiness becomes dependent upon the leadership of one man - that is more indicative of problems than if we mistakenly voted in a buffoon.  We can live with buffoons in the government so long as we don’t become dependent upon that same government.

© Robert S. Miller 2008

We are now less than a week away from the 2008 Presidential election and most voters claim to be fed up with the negative campaigning.  It’s not like 1952.  Then the Republicans chanted the slogan, “We like Ike!”  The slogan for the Democrats went like this: “We badly need Adlai.”   Somehow, we’ve now convinced ourselves that that was a better way to elect a President (though promoting one nominee as the “candidate for change” and the other as a “maverick” probably isn’t much more informative).

Anyway, those dreams of better days in Washington where it was still possible for an incorruptible politician to survive were manufactured in large part by Frank Capra when he directed Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.  Jefferson Smith (James Stewart), a former scoutmaster and newly appointed United States Senator from some Midwestern state (probably Wisconsin), comes to the nation’s capital with visions of Thomas Jefferson and Abraham Lincoln in his head.  Smith was the hand-picked choice of Senator Joseph Harrison Paine (Claude Rains), a corrupt Senator that supported Smith’s appointment because he believed Smith to be politically naïve and therefore controllable.  Governor Hubert “Happy” Hopper (Guy Kibee) is only too happy to oblige Paine in appointing Smith for the job.  Too bad for Senator Paine that Jefferson Smith has so much integrity.  Also too bad for him that Clarissa Saunders (Jean Arthur) is appointed as Smith’s assistant.  She’s been around other senators long enough to know how the Washington political game is played.  At first Clarissa despises her dopey boss.  But eventually she sees the worth of the new senator.  She then decides to use all of her skills to make Senator Smith a successful politician.

Senator Smith has one and only one bill in mind that he would really like to see pass.  Other senators think about healthcare, welfare reform, human rights and fighting the communist menace.  Senator Smith would like to see created a national boys’ camp to make all the little scouts happy.  This seems innocuous enough and even Clarissa thinks it’s a harmless enough plan to not rub too many people the wrong way.  But somehow it does.  The plans for the boys’ camp is opposed by the state political boss, Jim Taylor (Edward Arnold).  Taylor has interests in building a damn (and at the same time taking money under the table) on Willet Creek, which is close to where the boys’ camp is to be constructed.  Taylor in fact is so opposed to the idea that he is willing to slander the good senator that comes from his home state.  This is partially because Senator Smith suspects Taylor of being involved in graft.  When Taylor tries to talk sense with the new man in Washington, Senator Smith refuses to be corrupted.  Taylor and Paine then accuse the good Senator of being involved in a scandal by claiming he's the one taking money.  But rather than let his reputation be dragged through the mud on the Senate floor, Senator Smith decides to filibuster the senate (with the help of Clarissa who so thoroughly understands protocol).  As he stands alone, Senator Smith can only hold up the Senate proceedings so long and speak in his own defense until he collapses to the floor.  But when everything then seems lost and the remainder of the senate now has the opportunity to crucify the defenseless crusader, Senator Paine then shamefacedly confesses that it was he and not his fellow senator that was guilty of corruption.  Senator Smith is therefore a hero and gets his boys’ camp.

We’re served up with plenty of platitudes and folksy sayings in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.  “Either I’m dead right or I’m crazy!” he exclaims at one point.  During the filibuster, sounding reminiscent of Governor Sarah Palin, he says, “I guess the gentlemen are in a pretty tall hurry to get me out of here.”  Senator Smith is supposed to be some everyman.  In truth, I’d be a bit embarrassed if he actually did typify the general populace.  My God!  We’re supposed to be on the floors of the United States Senate.  We’re not at a high school prom as depicted in a Norman Rockwell’ painting.  This movie was released at a time when the nation was still reeling from the Great Depression, when Hitler had just annexed Czechoslovakia, and after Stalin had basically purged most of the remaining leadership in the Soviet Union. So it’s obvious that there were great evils in the world to be dealt with at the time.  Yet there is more than evil and corruption that prevents a good senator from accomplishing what he or she has set out to do.  There maybe an opposing and yet equally valid point of view that brings all action on a particular matter to a halt because of a deadlock.  In the movie, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, we don’t even know what the various senators actually believe concerning the issues of the day other than Senator Smith has a particular fondness for young boys (which truly would be scandalous if the movie was filmed today).  It’s amusing that the movie was originally thought to be somewhat sinister because it painted the power brokers of Washington, D.C. as being corrupt.  That’s rather mild as opposed to what we see in the editorial pages today.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is not nearly as good as Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life.  The syrup is more tolerable in a Christmas movie than one about political corruption.  At 130 minutes in length, it is almost unbearably long – especially since the movie is so preachy.  On top of that, we have the Jimmy Stewart phenomena.  Stewart’s method of acting is to force his persona into every role that he plays.  Like Cary Grant, like John Wayne, like Peter Lorre, and to some degree like even Humphrey Bogart, Stewart’s iconic status is based in part on his always playing a parody of himself.  This is especially true in the filibuster scene that for some reason or other critics are enamored with.  Jean Arthur does the same, but as a lesser known actress this is not quite so noticeable.  Claude Rains probably comes off best only because his character has more than one side to it.

As in all Capra’ movies, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington comes annoyingly close to being too maudlin to hold up as entertainment.  And yet like almost every Capra’ film, it is still being viewed some seventy years later.   Why?  Perhaps, it’s because no matter how tough we like to sound, we may be nothing but mush inside.  We still want to believe, despite all the evidence that says otherwise, that some great iconic figure will bring us to salvation.  That’s why every four years party members are all gleeful about the candidate that they have nominated, and how ultimately so many voters are disappointed with the results if their candidate does happen to be elected.  So maybe we should go back to 1952 and come up with slogans like “I’m insane for McCain,” or “I love the drama of Obama.”  Either campaign can feel free to use these slogans if they happen to be so desperate.

© Robert S. Miller 2008

Thank God for Elvis Aaron Presley!  First, he saved all of us from being condemned to listen to our parents’ music.  And then, per the film Bubba Ho-tep, he saved our parents’ generation from the curse of the Mummy.  You see, contrary to popular belief, Elvis did not die at Graceland in Memphis, Tennessee.  The man who we thought was Elvis that actually died at the estate was an Elvis' imitator by the name of Sebastian Haff.  The real Elvis went on to become a successful "Elvis' imitator" only to have his career cut short when he fell off the stage and broke his hip. 

After his fall from the stage, Elvis (Bruce Campbell) was confined to a convalescence home in Mud Creek, Texas.  Since the death of Haff, there are no records left to verify that the real Elvis still lives.  Mostly, Elvis is at the mercy of a nursing home staff that treats his story as the ravings of a senile old man.  Every day is a humiliation for Elvis and his fellow patients.  The once youthful Presley is now beleaguered by all of the complaints of old age.  He probably is even suffering from cancer.  Worse, he and his fellow patients are treated as if their feelings and dignity are of no consequence.  For example, Elvis never even meets the daughter of his roommate that he has had for three years until after the roommate dies.  If not for the intervention of Elvis, the purple-heart that his roommate received in the war would have remained in the garbage can that the daughter tossed the medal into next to Elvis’ bed.

Fortunately, Elvis finds a friend at the Shady Rest Retirement Home by the name of John (“Jack”) Fitzgerald Kennedy (Ossie Davis), the former President of the United States.  Now Jack, having survived an assassination attempt in Dallas where he took a bullet to the back of the head, has a few issues of his own.  One notable one is that he now happens to be black.  The doctors turned Kennedy into a black man in order to disguise him in the event that there are any future assassination attempts made upon him.  Though Jack openly discusses what had happened in Dallas, nobody really believes that he is the former President.  So, like Elvis, Jack is forced to endure the condensension of the foolish people that administer his care. 

It appears that Elvis and Jack will simply have to live out the remainder of their lives resigned to the fact that they will never again make great contributions to humanity.  This all changes one evening when the two are shaken out of their lethargy when an actual attempt to kill Jack was made at the home.  Jack at first believes that the ugly creature that tried to kill him was Lyndon Johnson.  However, Elvis clears up any misconceptions about that by informing Jack that Lyndon Johnson is already dead.  Fortunately, though somewhat addled by the assassin’s bullet, Jack Kennedy’s brilliance is still in tact and he is able to adduce from a number of seemingly random deaths at the nursing home exactly what is occurring.  The rest home is cursed, but by what still requires additional investigation.  Jack comes upon a story about a bus possibly carrying the remains of an Egyptian Mummy that had recently disappeared.  Elvis, now rejuvenated and therefore more mobile because he once again feels he has a purpose, had spotted the remains of a bus beneath the surface of a nearby river.  Elvis and Jack deduce that the soul of the Mummy is now strolling the halls of the nursing home sucking the souls out of the hapless residents to assure its own continued existence.  Neither Elvis nor the former President thinks this is a fair practice and they are determined to put a stop to the creature’s (or whatever it is) notorious deeds.  Elvis in his jumpsuit and Jack in his best Presidential suit arrange for a confrontation with the beast to bring an end to this curse for all time.  Now this Mummy that Elvis has named “Bubba Ho-tep” (Bob Ivy) is truly as ugly as LBJ.  Bubba Ho-tep would probably have been able to continue on taking the lives of the inmates for centuries to come if it had not chosen to thrive at a residence inhabited by both a former President and the King of Rock & Roll.  And so in the final showdown, though both Jack and Elvis tragically die in their efforts to save mankind, the two save their own souls by not going down without a fight.  In fact, they manage to set Bubba Ho-tep on fire and forever destroy his reign here on earth.

Bubba Ho-tep is all very complicated, but it is also a fitting tribute to a great man (actually, two great men).  The movie Bubba Ho-tep is a comedy, melodrama, horror-flick and quasi Spaghetti Western of the kind directed by Sergio Leone and starring Clint Eastwood.  In fact, the soundtrack does not contain any Elvis’ songs.  Instead, it plays out a lonely melody somehow making us reminiscent of those Saturday afternoons in the cinema when we were kids while we watched the Sheriff in the white hat facing down four bad guys in the town square.  I was very impressed that Bubba Ho-tep stuck so very closely to the true story of two very great American men.  Granted, it may have taken some liberties concerning the final confrontation with the creature called Bubba Ho-tep, but at least the ending is believable.  (Unfortunately, it took no more liberties with the truth than did Oliver Stone in the movie JFK, or Steven Spielberg did in the movie Munich.  But hey, that’s show business!)

It does bear repeating: where would we have been without Elvis?  The King of Rock & Roll may well have ended up being Pat Boone.  Instead of the Beatles and The Rolling Stones the songs of The Letterman and The Association may have dominated the music industry of the 1960s.  Rebellion may have been confined to the coffee houses where beatniks engaged in pseudo-intellectual banter.  Concert halls may have been filled with droves of fans coming out to see The Osmond’ Family.  And like the good guy in the white hat, Elvis Presley is a true American phenomenon.  Only in America would we ordinate a trucker from Memphis the exalted status of kingship because only in America is it still possible to achieve nobility through deeds rather than through birth. 

Bubba Ho-tep is directed by Don Coscarelli and is only 92 minutes long.  Therefore, it’s much less of a time-waster than watching movies like Gandhi, Amadeus, or Atonement that all for some reason or other get nominated for Academy Awards by giving us a lot of filler.  We can’t really poke fun at these movies because these same films are too cautious and full of themselves to contain any raucous humor. Bubba Ho-tep at least is an entertaining movie.  And it’s refreshing to see a movie that has a true sense of fun.

© Robert S. Miller 2008