Awarding the First Ladies: A List of Winners

The spouse to the President of the United States has neither Constitutional power nor any Constitutional restrictions, meaning the office—originally symbolic, later political—changes with the women and with the country. It’s not so much walking a political and social tightrope as it is walking a tightrope that moves. Sometimes these changes and these women are graceful, sometimes violent, but almost always have their influence shrugged off by contemporary indifference. While noting the power of women with no official power may seem sexist in the vein of ‘see, they don’t need more power,’ I assure you this is meant firstly to be entertaining and to secondly to point out that American history is filled with crazy characters (male and female) and ridiculous stories (more true than not). This is going to have to be a series.

Also, I’m just quite the ladies’ man…when I don’t have to actually talk to them.

First First Lady (technically): Harriet Lane

Amazingly, this First Lady was not actually the President’s wife but rather the niece of President James Buchanan. Derisively called “a dandy” by his peers, the well-groomed bachelor President decided not to host White House ceremonies, actual tea parties and Mary Kay parities himself and so had the position created. Now, there is some controversy in this award though, as President Zachary Taylor allegedly referred to James Madison's wife Dolley as the “First Lady” in her eulogy delivered in 1849. However, the eulogy was so sad, listeners blew their noses in the only paper copies and so no actual record exists. Before this point, though, the wife of the president was formally called “Lady,” “Mrs. President,” “Mrs. Presidentress” and, I kid you not, “Queen of the White House”—though Buchanan was called that, too.

First First Lady (not-technically): Martha Washington

Best remembered as portrayed by Lisa Simpson in “I Love Lisa,” Martha was as baffled by her unprecedented duties as her husband George was with his. Fortunately, the Washington’s liked each other and so hosted a lot of ceremonies and public events at their presidential house/office (George’s idea that they be the same building). On the personal side, Martha was a very wealthy, 27-year-old, widow when she met and married George--who later used her vast resources to create a huge beer distillery. Yeah, that's a lot to take in. Years later, in an act of faux-generosity, George altered his will to say all his slaves (well over a hundred) could be freed once Martha and himself died. After her second-husband's death, Martha freed all the slaves.

Most Frustratingly Independent: Abigail Adams

That’s right. Number two. Abigail and John Adams sent each other a lot of letters and few were classically romantic, often calling each other “partner.” While John Adams was helping craft the Constitution, Abigail repeatedly advocated for women’s rights to be specifically included; rights such as inheritance rights, property rights and protection-from-abusive-husbands’ rights. Of course, she never really pushed for voting rights, fearing that it would not come until the 1820s or so—making her prediction some 100 years off. Ultimately, women were left completely unmentioned in the Constitution, rendering lovemaking unmentioned in the Adams’ bedroom. The President would never smile when in office, and took a lot of cold baths. Meanwhile, John’s main political rival, Thomas Jefferson, was knee-deep in---let’s move on.

Most Resembled an Action Movie Hero: Dolley Madison

Wife of James Madison, Dolley had probably the most surreal experience during the course of the War of 1812. Most people know the war for the British burning down Washington, D.C. and Andrew Jackson enlisting a bunch of pirates in New Orleans. Attacking Washington, D.C. didn’t hold an exceptional amount of military advantage for the British, but that doesn’t really matter—they burned it and the countries called it a game. Before the attack, British admirals exchanged letters boasting about which one of them would actually be able to capture the president’s wife, bring her to England and use her as a negotiating tool. That’s right, the film “Air Force One” was based on a true story. Not giving a shit that the world’s most powerful empire wanted her head, Dolley stayed in D.C., securing American letters, books and artifacts (such as the famed George Washington portrait), right up until D.C. was burning to the ground. In all likelihood, at some point, Dolley ran down a long corridor and leaped into the air as barrels of gunpowder exploded behind her.

"I really should have read that Dolley Madison biography."

First Lady who had the Most Men Shot, Indirectly: Rachel Jackson

Rachel Jackson divorced a loser named Lewis Robards in 1790. In 1791, she married the high-standing Andrew Jackson. Then in 1794, it was discovered Loser McLoserson never signed the divorce papers—technically making Rachel a bigamist. Upon hearing his (ex)wife had married Andrew Jackson, Robards signed the divorce papers immediately after (or possibly before) changing his soiled pants. For a few years, the new couple underwent social stigma—usually overshadowed by Jackon’s desire to “keep it real” when his wife’s honor was at stake. Jackson kept it old school. Real old school. Like, as in 'having his face slashed by a British general when he was a 13-year old POW in the Revolutionary War' old school. So Jackson gets in a couple dozen pistol duels and things (people) die away. Then in 1828, Jackon runs for office and his rivals--Henry Clay and John Quincy Adams--leak to the press that Rachel was/is a bigamist and “whore.” Jackson won the election but before being sworn into office, Rachel died from heart failure. Jackson would be guilt-ridden for the rest of his life, up into his last words wherein he expressed regret for having NOT shot former president John Quincy Adams.

To be continued…

TOY STORY 3: Analyzing America

In “Toy Story 3” Andy struggles with his sense of nostalgia—a feeling not generally attributed to 18-year-olds. Indeed, Andy’s generation, the ReGeneration, is much more commonly associated with narcissism. The accusations of narcissism are unfair; just as Andy’s sense of nostalgia is an unspoken commonality. To the ReGeneration (born roughly from 1982 to 2001), experience, as a concept, doesn’t deserve credit or attention itself but there is still a desire to understand one's place in history. In other words, the experience to come is more important than the experience passed. This circles back in “Toy Story 3” as the audience (and Andy) can not move down the road of life until reconciling our (and his) displaced sense of nostalgia.

Let me break it down more. “Toy Story 3” is the story of America; not unequivocally and not a one-to-one ratio, but the film is a stand-in for those struggling with cognitive dissonance and inconclusive identity.

Woody the Sheriff is the cowboy protagonist and throwback to the iconic gunslinger. The cowboy is America’s King Arthur. America’s samurai or Spartan. The cowboy is the archetype lifted from history and so repeatedly washed, treaded on, and re-washed that the cultural symbol is more meaningful than the history. His counterpart is Buzz Lightyear, the representative of science. Buzz is technologically superior, but technology is too vague and unstable as a concept. Rather, Buzz acts as the spaceman—a cultural symbol of 1970s science not solely American but definitely packaged and slapped on a lunchbox in a uniquely American fashion. Mr. and Mrs. Potato could be reasoned as symbols of America’s agriculture, but I find their strength as a traditional married-couple more palpable. Rex the dinosaur is our understanding of prehistoric history. Slink is what’s left of our wildlife. Lastly, Barbie—as the most iconic real-life toy—is America’s consumer culture.

As a little one, Andy, and real children, played with these concepts. Yes, the cowboy and spaceman were the most exciting, but each character/toy had a value—bestowed to him by his parents. As he grew up, he became sullen and cynical. Andy tossed aside the symbols of his culture in favor of, well, whatever it is kids do these days. Bowling perhaps? In the film, Andy literally refers to his toys as “junk.” And indeed, they are. As toys or ideologies, they are neither original nor accurate. Woody is a cowboy and a sheriff (a professional impossibility). Buzz Lightyear is a space ranger originally imagined from the near future, though now just a relic from the Cold War-inspired space race. Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head are incomplete, to the point of Mrs. Potato Head losing her eye/vision. Rex is an inaccurate model of the Tyrannosaurs Rex and Slinky, like nature, is perpetually stretched to its limits. In terms of American history, any widespread disillusionment with culture and history would have first appeared in the late 1950s with the beatniks and popularized by counter-cultures and counter-counter cultures of the 1960s. (An example of counter-counter-counter culture can be found here.) As for the film, in “Toy Story 3” Andy begrudgingly wants to keep the toys, his sole sense of cultural identity, but only for the sake of having an identity. He won’t share them with anybody nor wants to keep them overtly part of his life.

As the story goes, the toys accidentally end up at Sunnyside Daycare wherein scholars (children) can use the symbols for education and interaction. Before these symbols of Americana can be savored and studied appropriately, they are tossed into the Caterpillar room—a room of less patient and less experienced scholars. These scholars (again, children) run around with the metaphors, purposefully misunderstanding their purpose in order to gain a few fleeting moments of entertainment and attention. The abuse inflicted on the toys by these screaming crybabies soils the toys’ iconic identities. If I’m worthy of having critics, I suppose I have just opened myself up to being called a Caterpillar Scholar. Regardless…

To contrast the original crew of toys, the toys introduced at the daycare are crafted to fit in relation to, and in conflict to, the American icons. Lotso is the dictator of the Sunnyside nation and could probably be a stand-in for several specific dictators, though I think the connection is strongest with Stalin and the Soviet Union. Lotso surrounds himself with loyalists under the guise of a meritocracy. His group calls the American ideologies “fodder,” with the two exceptions of Buzz and Barbie. Buzz, as science, was necessary to obtain military equality (atom bomb in 1948) and space travel superiority (Sputnik in 1957). As a small note, Iranian President Ahmadinejad has made a big deal out of getting his country into space technology. Lotso, like Stalin and others, granted certain leniency to Ken—the upper class of the Sunnyside nation—including the acquisition of Barbie (again, consumer goods and luxuries). More specific to Stalin, Lotso is a bear—the mascot of the USSR. Also, Lotso was said to smell like strawberries, as did Leonid Brezhnev.

While the dictatorship is allowing, and even facilitating, the corruption of American ideologies, Woody is separated from the group. Here, the fear of isolation becomes a key theme for the film. Woody is far more excited about living in the attic with the toys than going to college by himself. Similarly, the primary punishment issued by Lotso is a night “in the box.” Even at Bonnie’s, Woody feels more isolated with toys he has no history with than he would with Andy at college.

Bonnie’s, like Sunnyside, introduces yet more toys/ideologies who collectively make up a world community. There is a Shakespearean actor, unicorn (which Greeks thought were from India/Africa), tech-savvy dinosaur and Totoro (a Japanese cartoon character). Baffling Woody, he is cherished by this community, much in line with how the cowboy imagery and characters were celebrated, mimicked and immortalized by Europeans in the post-WWII years (see: 500 Spaghetti Westerns in 6 years). To this day, several European and Asian film making industries perpetually have Western-inspired productions rolling.

In the climax sequence of the film, the ideologies are united but still trashed, along with the ousted dictator. On the trash conveyor belt, Lotso finds himself trapped under a golf bag (dead weight of American leisure). Had any random character saved Lotso, they would have looked like a sympathizer—but Woody was the cowboy president who lambasted Lotso time and time again, even before anybody else took the threat that seriously. Because of this tough-talk, Woody could save Lotso/shake his hand without appearing weak. More than any one president in history, this was the collective strategy of Truman, Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon and Reagan up to the fall of the USSR. Moments before being disintegrated and forgotten, the “aliens”--and literal aliens--of the group save them all. This is not to say foreigners per se will save America (as they have before), but rather American ideologies become stronger when including more symbols and histories.

Eventually the ideologies are cleaned off and reunited under Andy. But he decides, as the ReGeneration will, to not lock away his past but rather share it with the world—represented by Bonnie and her toys. And so yes, Andy gave up ownership up his history but it doing so sees the importance it holds. Cultural history is something like being in a club; it’s fun being exclusive but it’s lonely if you have no one to share it with. Andy is no less American for giving up his cowboy, spaceman, etc. persona. Indeed, is he is better for having played with the toys he was given as a child but he is now open to playing with new toys. And by “toys” I mean metaphors and ideologies; though I suppose playing with actual toys in college wouldn’t be that unusual, especially if it could be made into some sort of bong.

I know at least six people who are at least a little bit jealous right now.

The specific intentions of the “Toy Story” creators don’t matter much more than if they intended to make a great film. I believe this intention existed and so am willing to pick up the challenge audiences are unknowingly faced with; the challenge of thinking about stories, art and the world around us. “Toy Story 3” perfectly represents how history can be used to understand a movie while the movie can be used to understand history—both spheres being made more accessible to new audiences. And that makes for a helluva “Toy (and True) Story”.

TOY STORY 3: The Beautiful Challenge

I venture far enough to be skeptical of movies I'm excited for. My ability to come out of a theater and be marginally impressed, bored or downright spiteful as earned me the ire of many friends. I went into “Toy Story 3” with this same reserved indifference. Yes, I loved the original “Toy Story”, but it has grown closer to me with age and its cultural, even historic, influence is a plus. Conversely “Toy Story 2” was good for laughs but hit too many similar (or weaker) emotional notes of the original to be truly great. But with all of Pixar's 10 previous feature films in mind, the worst I can say is that the wonderfully animated “Cars” was a somewhat tired story, had one annoying character and a undeserving nostalgia for the 1950s.

Before “Toy Story 3,” I need to comment on the opening short film “Day and Night.” First, I will never complain of or not praise this Pixar film staple--originally used to showcase their test footage but now used as an emotional warm up act (without fail). But more than the usual charm, this short animated film gave me more reason to believe in the viability of 3D than any feature film to date--including “Avatar.” The story, scarcely describable in prose, is about the friendship two beings form when one contains a world of daylight and the other showcases--within the being's outline--the beauty of Earth's night. As if being purposefully defiant to audience expectations, the use of 3D is not used have things ‘fly towards the screen,’ but to rather add a optical layer of depth, creating a very real illusion that a world is contained within (or behind) the two animated fellows. I couldn't help but wonder if this short film was a sort of apology from Pixar. The traditional visual beauty of “Toy Story 3” is so alone in its superiority, that it may just be the most useless use of 3D technology ever. In fact, the 3D technology turns what could just be beautiful images (color, lighting, textures, etc.) into what 3D has always been: spectacle. Like many video games, the spectacle of realism/3D seems to crush any creative desire for good storytelling. For the first time ever, in this short animated film, I felt that not only was a film enhanced by 3D, but that 3D was necessary--perhaps on par with color film being necessary for “The Wizard of Oz.”

Technology aside, ‘Toy Story 3” gloriously achieved that golden moment that every movie should strive for. A moment of pure immersion in the story. When Buzz Lightyear gently grabbed Jessie's hand without saying a word...That moment I was truly lost in the movie, I was no longer sitting in a theater, but rather totally feeling for characters. I felt my heart, not my head, crying out for fictional characters. This happens about once a year for me in movies and something worth applauding. Readers of my Facebook profile will remember that I once advocated the existence of “Indiana Jones and the Concept of Mortality.” Characters that are used to fighting for their lives against all odds is an incredibly common feeling for movie audiences, even if the audience members have never physically fought for their lives. So when iconic characters seemingly give up on life, audiences can see when things are truly more important than life--in the characters’ lives and their own lives.

The movie gets dropped about a rounding error or two in my book though for limping a bit through the first act with repeated dialogue and emotions. Woody is loyal to Andy. The other toys are scared yet determined. Woody is again loyal to Andy, the other toys are again scared yet determined. Nothing is achieved or revealed over three separate scenes except reiteration. Again. Reiteration. Nothing is achieved. Redundancy is kind of annoying, isn’t it?

This hardly-a-children's film received some post-release controversy, as many parents felt the G-rated film was too intense (read: "shit-your-pants-terrifying") for their smallest children. Having no backbone, the MPAA agreed and apologized for the rating, agreeing, yes, the move should have been R-rated...or at least PG. Personally, I'd like every movie I see be R-rated just to keep anyone under the age of 17 out of the theater. Regardless, the film has complexities dealing with isolationism, corrupted values and public relations worthy of an essay, as much as any film this year. Furthermore, "Toy Story 3" is the best reviewed movie on Rotten Tomatoes--and the worst reviewed film of the trilogy--raising even more eyebrows.

Or at least three in one shot.

In the end, Pixar has made an incredible film, though one must be purified into the movie by watching a slew of trailers for other children’s/3D movies coming out in the next few months. There is no real reason every movie can't have an admirable level of ambition, if not execution. Pixar simply can't supply audiences with a surplus of quality films, so it is up to the audiences to demand quality films from other companies. More than just telling a compelling story, Pixar proved 3D can work and evolve--so now I hate the technology even more for being a repeated wasteful surcharge of $3.50.

If "Toy Story 3" won Best Picture, I doubt many would complain.

BABIES: A Concept So Simple Four Babies Did It

Originally published 2/10/11 on "TheMovieWatch.com":

Last year there was a documentary called "Babies." It was about babies. Starring babies. Every frame of the movie was occupied by at least one baby--often in the center of the frame. French documentary filmmaker Thomas Balmes chronicles the birth and first 18 months (or so) of four babies' lives--living in Mongolia, Namibia, Tokyo and San Francisco, respectively. Using vigilant restraint the film allows audiences to watch, feel and analyze what amounts to a celebration of the human experience. And for this, it was not only snubbed by the Oscars but snubbed by the people who talk about what films got snubbed.

To describe the movie requires one to first address what it is not. This is not a movie about raising children. Perhaps real life parents will roll their eyes at the unending joy (and almost entirely absent struggle) of raising a baby, but the movie is about the babies' experiences. Most often, these experiences are cultural confusion--for every culture is confusing upon entry. The experience of the parents is completely disregarded in this film so much so that the dialogue over heard (mostly baby-talk) borders on annoyingly muffled or distant, at first. Assuming that any viewer speaks only one of the four languages, three-fourths of the film will be complete gibberish anyway. There are no subtitles, and need not any. The babies can't understand Japanese or Mongolian any more than myself, so why should I be privy to such vital/superfluous information the parents are conveying? This is a film for anthropologists, and people who don't like "preachy" documentaries.

The complete lack of subtitles, interviews and narration keep the babies in the quiet forefront. A lesser film wouldn't have this kind of courage and would instead rely on celebrity voices, flashy animation and sweeping generalizations. Instead, in "Babies," the audience is allowed, even required, to bring their own interpretations to the images. In this way, "Babies" is inarguably more confident, artistic and flatly informative than other documentary heavyweights of the last year, including "Inside Job." Moreover, as documentaries have become increasing subject to factual criticism, “Babies” represents data in the purest form film can provide. Some have criticized "Babies" for lacking substance and scope, but such criticism reveals the audiences' lack of substance and scope. "Babies" is information is the rawest, watchable, sense. "Babies" can't add scope because this isn't a film about human societies or babies in general. "Babies" is a reference to these specific babies--that's it.

This documentary is not a comparison between babies of different societies. A Mongolian baby being confused by a goat vs. an American baby being confused by a cat. Other critics have wondered if more babies would have been more appropriate (i.e. a Middle-Eastern baby, a Latino baby, European baby, etc.). But this again completely misses the point that babies, like all people, are not comparable on a 1:1 scale. A baby raised in San Francisco is going to have a different upbringing than a baby raised in Texas. In fact, a baby raised in San Francisco is going to have a different upbringing than another baby raised in San Francisco. Go figure, people can’t be accurately summarized.

This is not to say that there aren't similarities in the raising of all babies, or at least in the infant stages of the four documented babies. The most horrifying/hilarious motif was the relationship each of the babies had with animals. Going into the movie, I was under the impression babies are like eggs placed on the asphalt of the Kansas Turnpike--left alone, they got a lifespan of about 5.2 seconds. Turns out, at least among wildlife, that might be a slight exaggeration. Repeatedly, each of the babies seemed to be in danger of being trampled, horned, mauled or ate; and each time the animals held nothing but complete, peaceful, indifference toward the babies' provocation (ex. lifting a dog's upper lip to see it's teeth). It's as if many animals have a truce with humans that babies are off-limits--a truce that humans barely (or don't?) hold with each other. So sure are the animals (dogs, cats, cows, goats, etc.) that death would immediately fall upon them for harming a baby, that none respond to the presence or finger-poking, prodding and probing of the infants.

"It looks like you've been flossing."

The film, clocking in at a brisk 80 minute runtime, juxtaposes the stages of baby life without making judgements on the societies viewed. Any criticism articulated by the audience, regarding a foreign society's level of luxury, sanitation or sanity is completely brought into the movie by said audience. The simple fact of the film is that none of these babies died and all were usually happy, or at least entertaining. Admittedly, my day-to-day life contains few babies and fewer animals, so those sequences struck me as the most compelling but left me conscious of, and usually intrigued by, the other sequences including earliest education, pooping (just a little bit), crawling, mirror discoveries, genital discoveries, first birthdays, first steps and unintelligible first words. Indeed, this documentary, and this documentary alone, perfects the goal of raising discussion without cannibalizing itself with arguable answers. Compared to this film, the 2010 Oscar-nominated documentaries seem to have been made by a bunch of, well,…jerks.

NEVER SAY NEVER: Bieber is Surprisingly Low Key

Sometime ago, I pulled a prank on a friend. For the sake of possible repetition, I won’t detail the prank or friend, but I guess he cleaned up the mess and got over it because earlier this week he told me about a sneak-peek preview of Justin Bieber bio-pic/concert documentary/whatever else. Knowing really nothing about Justin Bieber other than he’s some kind of musician who doesn’t really play instruments, I decided to take up the opportunity to see what could be the third biggest film of next week, or maybe even the year. And I have to admit, some 80 minutes later, I was thoroughly impressed.

First off, the film isn’t about Justin Bieber himself much at all. Now, I missed the first few minutes because the beers at the concession stand were only $2 (Thursday special!) but from what I gathered, the film actually follows two Justin Beiber fans in Texas over the course of a few years. Defying expectations, the fans are not little girls but actually two grown men, Steven Russell and Phillip Morris (played by Jim Carrey and Ewan McGregor, respectively).

Russell (Carrey) is a normal-ish who suffers a near-death/life experience and comes out of the Justin Beiber closet. His wife takes it in seemingly good humor and Russell goes about being a Justin Bieber fans, presumably going to concerts, but more often just hanging out with other fans. I guess this Justin Bieber is the most talented teenager in America because he sure seemed to have a lot of fans in the movie. Anyhow, Russell and Phillip meet in prison because they tried impersonating people or whatever. In prison and after prison, their relationship really grows. They dance and dress well but never seem to meet any girls; I guess because they just like Justin Bieber too much.

For real, the movie has a nice jig to it, editing-wise, and bounds along with a comedic pace that suits Carrey. Regrettably, McGregor is something of the “straight man” in their comedic-duo. McGregor can sell a joke better than about any other Star Wars alumni, but, alas, he’s only here to react to Carrey’s shenanigans—and boy is there shenanigans. Escaping-from-prison level of shenanigans. Actually, that’s exactly what happens. I guess the love the two fellows share for Justin Bieber’s music keeps them going and is the genesis of the title “Never Say Never”—because nothing can keep fans away from music or each other's camaraderie. Except for maybe the Hell’s Angels.*

Pictured above: Reason #583 for how Rolling Stones concerts are different than Bieber's.

For the first third of the movie or so, I was skeptical about how wacky Russell and Morris acted—and, like other characters, wondered if their love for Justin Bieber was related to their criminal activities. These fears dissipated over time though, as the relationship between the fans proved earnest and visceral. Yes, these are flamboyant characters, but their love is given as much patience, drama, weight and, yes even, comedy as any other relationship in a 2010 film.

As already mentioned, Carrey and McGregor are solid, despite (or because?) they are given a near impossible task. The film is mostly played somewhat farcical (again, ‘beat’ editing), yet the dramatic moments are left rather raw. Some might read into this dichotomy of styles as heavy-handed moments sneaking into a comedy film, but these misses the celebration of life that the film begins and ends on. Indeed, the film is based on a true story—meaning I guess Russell and Phillip Morris are real fans somewhere—and so the film valiantly tries to grasp the absurdity, horror and pain of life. Life has no genre, and so one can ‘never say never.’

The theater for this sneak peek was conspicuously empty and completely devoid of any pre, regular, or post-teenage girls. After watching the film, though, I wasn’t all that surprised, as the movie’s soundtrack was nothing like the teenybopper music I feared. Never having heard any Justin Bieber song, I can’t really say what the names of the songs were but none were distracting, and many played within the scenes very well.

The film is sugary, to be sure--caffeinated even--but there is enough texture to not feel guilty watching the romp. I heard some critics praised the actors’ courage, but to say Carrey was bravely flamboyant is like saying Daniel Day Lewis was bravely intimidating. I mean, please. He’s a goofy guy but it doesn’t mean he has to be a cartoon character. Regardless, Justin Bieber’s “Never Say Never” was a fun flick made special by the loving, albeit comically unequal, performances by Carrey and McGregor. Beiber himself also warrants praise for remaining strangely, yet powerfully, understated in what I was sure would be a bloated, hallow, cash-grab on commercial regurgitation spewed by the laziest day-dreamers who vaguely recall the existence of “Yellow Submarine” and, more prominently, an uber-capitalist desire to stagnant emotional development to a lowest common, monetary, denominator.

*The Hells Angels were hired to provide security for the free rock concert. Amazingly, fights broke out, a gang member stabbed an attendee, Mick Jagger was punched in the face, a member of Jefferson Airplane was beaten unconscious and The Grateful Dead (disregarding their band name) fled in a helicopter before playing a single song. Lame.

INCEPTION: One Movie, Yet Several, Yet One

There is an argument to be made that the best ideas are the ones that inspire more ideas. In the world of cinema then, the best movies of our time don’t just entertain us but will inspire the entertainment to come. Some movies are overt indicators of the society they were popular in—ex. last year’s Best Picture winner, “The Hurt Locker.” Other movies are so separated from their time that to place them requires examining the production, actor age, secondary technicalities and the film’s relation to its genre counterparts. Genre counterparts though might be the biggest disadvantage in the Oscar race—yet the greatness indicator—for Christopher Nolan’s “Inception.”

Maybe “Inception” is a dramatic, award-baiting, elitist film. In the film, Leonardo Dicaprio struggles to come to terms with his own guilt-ridden conscious—as he gave his wife an idea that later, inadvertently, inspired her to commit suicide. This, as a premise, is borderline “Oscar-bait.” It’s an acting showcase that threatens hamfisted emotion for two hours or a tour de force from one of Hollywood’s best--not to mention the other seven Oscar-nominated actors. Unfortunately for Dicaprio, “Inception” cost around $160 million and those kind of blockbuster productions don’t get actors nominated. Small production movies like “Crazy Heart,” “Milk,” or “Capote” get actors trophies. So no, “Inception” isn’t an Oscar showcase, a star vehicle, ‘The Little Film that Could’ or any other award angle Hollywood likes.

Maybe “Inception” is a summer blockbuster. It made over $825 million worldwide. Things blew up. Faceless minions got shot. Filmed over six countries and three continents. Gravity disappeared in the best fight scene of the year. Hell, a city folded over on top of itself. At some points it seemed as if director Nolan had so much money that he was finding the most elaborate ways to spend it—ex. duel suicide by mid-city runaway train. A person’s subconscious could be represented by an empty room (and, indeed, was); or it could be represented by some ice-fortress destined to blow the hell up in the middle of Siberia (and, indeed, did). Somewhere Michael Bay was slapping his forehead saying, “Why didn’t I think of that?” But no, something was missing. Both “Transformers” movies made more money in America than “Inception.” Why? “Inception” was alienating. “Inception” had one (likely improvised) joke. “Inception” didn’t have the easy set-ups and payoffs, pop culture references or sweaty cleavage shots. “Inception” was confusing. And boring. And nerdy.

Maybe “Inception” is a science-fiction film. It set-ups a crazy breakthrough in scientific technology and explores the concept and implications. It’s like “Dark City,” “Twelve Monkeys,” or “The Matrix.” We go in and out of worlds and play the technicalities of reality. The films poses several “what-if” questions and then answers a few. So many more questions in and about this cinematic universe are left unanswered that a sequel would seem possible, probable or even inevitable…in someone else’s hands. In someone else’s hands, “Inception” would have been about the technology and business of idea-stealing. In someone else’s hands, any other character, or every other character, would have had a history, a desire, a fear and/or a future. But not in the film that is. This film isn’t about the science of dreaming any more than it’s a heist movie.

Wait a minute. Maybe “Inception” is a heist movie! Slick professionals organize a team and attempt a convoluted caper. “Inception” certainly is structure like a heist movie—opening with a low-end, failed heist and aims to fool the audience with the last piece of the robbery plan. But no, heist movies are about stealing, not creating.

Also, heist movies are about things going hilariously awry.

So maybe “Inception” is a film about films. A reflective critique on the dream-like qualities of movies. The most powerful, the most visceral, moment of the film was the quiet exiting of the airplane after two hours of mind-bending chaos. The characters were waking up but they all maintained such silent, dead-eyed, blank expressions that they had might as well just be leaving an auditorium after two hours of mind-bending chaos. Is it over? Are they awake? They don’t even fully feel, see or hear the real world until getting into their cars and driving home.

“Inception” isn’t a perfect film, as it fails to be exceptional in any genre. But it is an inspiring movie. Or at least we can hope it is. We can hope that filmmakers see the strength of film without fixating on the genre conventions. In twenty years, in fifty years, film audiences will look back on 2010 and ask, “what came out that year?” I think it’s important that we can point to the film that was impressive and popular; that we had good timing to be there and clarity to see the influence before the influenced; so that we can say, “duh, that was the year of ‘Inception.’”

THE KING'S SPEECH: A Sight to Hear

Originally published 1/28/11 on "TheMovieWatch.com":

The Oscar nominations were released last Monday and at least one drama set during World War II was nominated for Best Picture (and 11 other awards). Keeping in line with such shocking news, the Steelers made the NFL playoffs and I ate pizza this week. Yeah, yeah. WWII was arguably the grandest, uniting event in human history, so it’s about time they made a movie about it. In earnest, I went into the movie expecting Oscar-bait rammed down my profanity-laced throat but instead left the theater baffled. While not quite in the same game-changing, defiantly original, pantheon of history’s best cinema, “The King’s Speech” is solidly worthy of every aforementioned award nomination.

Some might note the film is not a WWII film, but merely a period piece, as it takes place during the 1930s—when America defiantly clasped hands over its collective ears while yelling, “lalalala!” America needed the Pearl Harbor attacks to be shaken out of immobilized apathy. Conversely, England stood on its own cliffs, apprehensively looking across the Channel to Europe. England, unlike America, lost nearly a generation of young men in WWI. This Lost Generation kept them back for so long, yet also fueled in inevitable decision to declare war preemptively. Germany had not yet attacked England and, for the most part, had no immediate plan to. But England saw things getting more out of hand and eventually goaded itself into taking the plunge. These years are decidedly about WWII and the film is decidedly about the man who needed to speak strength, knowledge and confidence.

Also, who could strangle a snake...I think.

The British history and British players (King George V, Prince Edward, King George VI, etc.) may intimidate American audiences, but we need no fear. At several points, the characters speak about what they all already know—not unlike “science” being explained in sci-fi films or maps being slowly panned over in journey films. Fortunately, these moments (such as reiterating the scandal of American-ite Wallis Simpson) are brisk and articulated with enough flavor to keep the film bounding along. As a side note, does anybody else ever get exceptionally excited when the Winston Churchill character shows up in any movie? Everything he said was worthy of the world’s best bumper stickers.

Anyway, such scandals among the royal court are vividly unlike any American counterpart. If a movie star is personally imperfect, we poke fun easily because if they go too far they’re out of a job. American celebrities are just capitalists, selling product like anyone else. When said product (themselves) is undesirable, they get forgotten. Forgive me for not thinking of an example. In “The King’s Speech,” though, the American audience is shown the predicament of having permanent celebrities—as, frankly, the royal family offers little more by this point. This is why having a boozing, lovelorn prince and a younger, inarticulate, prince left the population needlessly deflated.

So becoming articulate, more specifically overcoming public speaking, becomes the goal and a strangely admirable one. Here, audiences see the false dichotomy of ‘speaking well equates to a parlor trick’ and ‘not speaking well renders someone moronic.’ Both unspoken hypotheses are tested and found untrue. In the film, strong public speakers rile crowds and inspire confidence, unity and innovation. And so when the film pulls back the curtain of known history, the audience watches Prince Albert (Colin Firth) display courage more admirable than he asks of anybody else. (That is, if public speaking is actually more feared than death.)

More repeatedly in Prince Albert’s case, perpetually stammering leads people to incorrectly label him weak and indecisive. To my own glee, the life-long stammering required a knack for brevity—indeed, the soul of wit. Amazingly, the script itself seems to stutter. That is, inevitable conclusions (will he go back to Geoffrey Rush?!) lag at times, yet other revelations are brisk, or even blurted. As a whole, the movie trots along and impressively written by David Seilder—who has an incredible WWII experience, and a stammer, himself. The movie is largely light-hearted, nearing the buddy-comedy genre at times. Somewhat regrettably, Adolph Hitler is reduced to the minor role of a jerk from the rival school. That he speaks well overshadows what he was saying—something along the lines of, “so I’m going to take over the world, is that cool?”

Supreme acting all around but the grace and confidence of Helen Bonham Carter struck me as most surprising…well, until Guy Pierce showed up as Prince Edward VIII—causing nothing but good times. The directing is emotional and visceral, making good use of deep focuses and intimidating vs. intimate space.

On a small note—and probably my largest criticism—the climatic scene (again, great) had England finally going to war with Germany, yet the music (building to a crescendo) was Beethoven’s 7th symphony. Beethoven was German, so—obviously—this hypocrisy tanks the film. That the filmmakers would think so little of audiences or be so damned negligent is as infuriating as it is enraging…which is a lot. This wasn’t just the worst cinematic decision of the year; it borders on a crime against humanity. Damn. What an awful movie.

Still…probably the best film of 2011.