The Hunger Games: Catching Fire

Last Friday I went to see The Hunger Games: Catching Fire. A female blood relative of mine, who is not my mother or daughter, joined me. She even kindly stopped at my house and picked me up. About halfway there, it became clear to us both that she was not sure what we were going to see.

She thought she was going to see Dallas Buyers’ Club. Not that she really cared, she just wanted to go to a Friday movie with me. I spent the rest of the drive explaining the Hunger Games book series and what happened in the first movie. Coming in cold, I wondered what she would think of it.

I, on the other hand, was rather a fan of The Hunger Games and Catching Fire. I was worried about how the books would translate to film, since the point of the violence in the book is to point out how horrible violence really is, and how much it affects those who are victims or participants in it. I didn’t want the audience to be one more spectator entertained by the horror. For the most part, I think the movies have held to that perspective, which I appreciate.

If you liked the first movie, you will love the second. Jennifer Lawrence is still the perfect Katniss, and the movie adheres to the themes of the book very closely. The bizarre excess of citizens in the Capital is a jarring foil for the poverty and hunger in the outer districts. Katniss’s development from a falsely loveable tribute into a national symbol for revolution is mostly believable, and she retains the taciturn, fiercely private nature that is introduced in the beginning of the series.

While it’s great to see that Katniss is a strong woman, it is also refreshing that the strong hero of a movie is beset with uncertainty, not as bold and brave as everyone believes, and dependent upon other people to point out to her what she can’t see herself. She is no shrinking violet, but she has her own weaknesses, which makes her a much more real character.

Josh Hutcherson does a fine job as the gentle, pining Peeta; my daughter and I were Team Gale throughout the first two books, and Liam Hemsworth as Gale just serves to reinforce that loyalty. Philip Seymour Hoffman plays the new Gamemaker, Plutarch. He must have been a major score for the casting department, and he’s the perfect choice. He is a natural at roles that leave viewers ambivalent, wondering whether he is a good guy or the incarnation of evil itself.

If my unnamed female relative, who is not my second sister, was uncertain about what she was getting into, in the end she enjoyed the movie very much. There were a lot of gasps and caught breath going on in the seat next to me, and when the story concluded—as expected by fans of the book—inconclusively, she said “What? That’s it?” She’ll either be reading the books soon, or I can plan to see her at the showing of the third film.

Another friend joined us for the movie, and she had also been at my church book club the night before. At our meeting we were discussing Nothing to Envy, a book about life in North Korea. The people of this country are so oppressed, so subject to ideological brainwashing, and so abused. If you love anyone, you are subject to the threat of their punishment in response to your own disobedience, which makes it very difficult for anyone to rebel. It felt like I was watching the sci-fi version of North Korea.

But about that third film. I don’t know. I’m not sure I can handle the visual version of that story. But the draw to see Jennifer Lawrence reprise the role one more time may be more than I can resist. I highly recommend it with to those who are familiar with and ready the violent nature of the story. But I still won’t be letting my 10-year-old see it.

12 Years a Slave: A Harsh History Lesson

One of the first big cultural events I remember from my childhood, after the U.S. bicentennial celebration, was the airing of the miniseries “Roots” on television. Since I was 8 years old at the time it aired, I did not watch it, but it became a part of the cultural discussion around me for years to come. Though I still have not seen the whole series (why?!), I have a pretty good idea of how the narrative goes. A whole generation of young Americans got a fresh look at how horrible the legal slave trade in the United States really was.

12 Years a Slave  is sort of a “Roots” for the new generation, with the major difference being that “Roots” was based on a novel, while 12 Years is based on a real person’s story. While slavery has been addressed in other movie forms (Amistad, Django Unchained), 12 Years approaches it with more heart than Amistad and more earnestness than the stylized Django.

Director Steve McQueen (not that Steve McQueen; the actor has long since passed away) and screenwriter John Ridley have adapted the biography of 19^th-century American Solomon Northrup. Northrup, a free man living with his family in Saratoga Springs, NY, is offered a two week job in Washington D.C., but it's a trap. Under this ruse, he is taken captive and transported south, where he is sold as a slave.

Many scenes include brutally violent mistreatment of human beings—whippings, beatings, a near-hanging and rape. It is very difficult to watch. The horror, heightened by the fact that Mr. Northrup has always known freedom, is interspersed with gorgeous images of the natural south—Spanish moss curtaining golden light through the trees, swamps teeming with life, lovely plantation homes, even a glorious field of white cotton waiting to be harvested. Of course, these images are haunted by our knowledge of the travesty that undergirds the way of life there. Seeing this natural beauty through the eyes of a man living in fear and degradation brought home to me once again the myriad ways that we corrupt the creation which God intended for delight.

And then there is God’s written Word, which is also corrupted by slaveowners for their own purposes.

The first slaveowner, played by the ubiquitous Benedict Cumberbatch, seems to feel he’s doing his best, trying to stay on a high moral ground in spite of the messy matter of owning slaves. He’s the “nice” slaveowner, the one who feels he is treating his slaves well, the one who stages Sunday services for them on his plantation. He stands reading Scripture in his lovely garden as the slaves sit, a truly captive audience that includes a grieving mother who has been separated from her children by his purchase.

Another, more vile slaveowner, played by McQueen’s favorite actor Michael Fassbender, reads to his slaves as well. He reads this (in a different translation): “The servant who knows the master’s will and does not get ready or does not do what the master wants will be beaten with many blows.” That verse from Luke 12, in context, is a difficult enough passage, but when snatched away from surrounding verses, it is a cruel power the master lords over his slaves.

On the other hand, Northrup finds some solace in singing spirituals on the death of a fellow slave, showing the way that the spiritual life of slaves gave them hope for the future, in the next life if not here on earth.

McQueen ably portrays the complete loss of dignity and the inhumanity that Northrup and other slaves suffer. Chiwetel Ejiofor is amazing in the roll of Solomon Northrup, as is Lupita Nyong'o's portrayal of another slave named Patsey; all of the acting is excellent. The cinematography is stunning. And there are some unusually long pauses in the action that leave us suspended in time (and sometimes in horror) in a way that helps us enter into the character’s feeling of being powerless to leave a horrible situation.

My initial reaction to it was a mixture of being deeply affected (and brutalized, as the director must have hoped) by the story, and at the same time feeling that there were no surprises. I have seen these characters before, though more often in books than in movies. That is in part due, as a friend explained to me, that Northrup's story was published in the same time period as a number of slave narratives, and many were written as part of the abolitionist movement's campaign. A George Mason University website has an article about why this story is a little different and considered more reliable than most.

But perhaps it is time for a new generation to look closely and deeply into the terrible history of slavery in our country. We cannot face present problems without looking at the way we came to them, and ignorance of our past systemic inhumanity will serve to continue misunderstanding and hate. If you want to take the next step, read about what happened after slavery was officially ended and the subsequent struggles faced by freed slaves and their descendants in the book The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson. Our collective past sins affect many generations, including the current one.

And our uncanny ability to justify our sin, with or without the misuse of God's Word, is a trap every one of us should be watching for.

All is Lost; or, The (Awesome) Old(ish) Man and the Sea

Robert Redford, it’s good to see you again. After a lot of dreamy sighing over midnight slumber-party screenings of The Way We Were in middle school, not to mention school-sanctioned swooning when my history teacher showed us All the President’s Men, Redford was at the top of my list of favorite actors. Well, yes, he’s aged a bit since then, but he still commands the screen in a way few actors can.

And that’s why All is Lost is worth watching. I don’t think it’s for everyone. This is a small movie—small focus, small budget—and we never even learn the only character’s name. As a matter of fact, we know nothing about his life before his sailing yacht is damaged in the middle of the ocean. Even after watching the whole movie, we know very little about him.

One thing we do know is that he is very resourceful. He would give MacGyver a run for his money, rigging up fixes to different problems. Though I’m pretty sure that if the Professor had had the limited but important resources Redford’s character digs up from his boat, Gilligan and company would only have been on the island for a couple of hours. But then there would never have been a musical Ginger/Gilligan version of "Hamlet," and my knowledge of classical music would be even sadder than it already is. So good thing the Professor only had those coconuts.

But back to the movie. At first I wondered how this was going to stretch into a full-fledged feature. But the movie keeps upping the ante, and we were riveted much of the time. My movie-friend-of-the-week mentioned that Redford is 77 years old, and that her dad of similar age wouldn’t last 10 minutes into this story. I’m not sure I would last 10 minutes into this story. Like watching a horror movie where you keep willing the person to NOT answer the phone, or go into the woods, or whatever, I found myself thinking “DON’T go on the deck! Stay in the cabin and keep the door closed!” But he just doesn’t listen to me.

We don’t know a lot about what he’s thinking either. This seems like the most unrealistic thing to me. Set aside the fact that he somehow patches a massive hole in the boat with glue and a paintbrush; set aside the important papers and book that mysteriously stay dry throughout; set aside the fact that he is 77 and getting beaten up and thrown around and still climbs up the mast. The most unrealistic thing to me is that he never talks to himself, aside from a choice and perfectly understandable curse. As someone who constantly finds myself speaking to no one in particular (too much time alone each day), I find it hard to believe he wouldn’t be narrating things to his invisible dog or something.

The man-vs-nature movie could serve as an allegory for any hardship that a person comes up against; I immediately thought of something like a terminal illness. First you have lots of resources, and you feel like you can overcome this. Then your supply of resources begin to narrow, and your attitude changes.

The ending, while a noble idea, seems a little cheesy in implementation and will likely disappoint many viewers. I don’t think I’m spoiling the movie by saying that.

This may not be a movie for everyone. But if you think it might be a movie for you, I’d recommend seeing it in the theater, because it’s hard to imagine having the same reaction to the suspense if you are watching this on your TV at home.

In the end, like I said at the beginning, the real reason to watch it is Robert Redford. While there are aspects of the movie that I admired very much, if you put, say, Nicolas Cage in this film, it would be a joke. There’s just something about Redford that makes it all more powerful.

 

A New British Rom Com? It's "About Time".

Before I went into the screening of the romantic comedy About Time, I stood in line for my free popcorn (Big Screen Club membership has its privileges, as does frequent movie attendance). The man ahead of me in line was in full biker gear—leather jacket, leather pants, bandana tied around his long brown hair. I might add that he smelled very good—brought me back to high school when all the Yuppie businessmen would come into the dry cleaners where I worked with their power suits, starched shirts and high-end cologne. But I digress.

I spent a moment or two debating what movie he was there for—Thor? Captain Phillips? Something manly for certain. And then, as I sat in the theater waiting for the previews to begin, he entered to sit by himself. I totally did not see that coming. Audiences often match the movie—at Short Term 12, there were several men in their mid 20s to mid 30s. Captain Phillips was populated by many older viewers, a few sporting baseball caps of their favorite armed services. I’m often the one who doesn’t fit whichever formula the movie calls for, so it shouldn’t surprise me when someone else breaks the mold!

Luckily for my husband, a friend showed up to watch with me and saved me from throwing myself at my fine-smelling biker friend who likes romantic comedies.

So, about that movie. About Time is from Richard Curtis, the writer/director of Love Actually, which is one of the reasons I wanted to see it. Romance, humor, schmaltz. I like it.

About Time is not as schmaltzy as Love Actually. It’s also a tad less funny and romantic. There is a similar spattering of odd characters, but this story sticks to the same characters instead of jumping from story to story.

On the occasion of his 21^st birthday, Tim’s father (played by the always funny Bill Nighy) tells him that the men in his family can time travel. They can’t go any further than their own lives, and they can’t go into the future, so they won’t be saving JFK or stopping Hitler. Of course Tim doesn’t believe his father, but he gives it a try and finds out it’s true.

Predictably, he tries to use this to his romantic advantage, first with a friend of his sister, and later with a more serious relationship, rewinding to take another stab at first impressions. My companion and I agreed that we would never get past the first week, constantly second guessing everything we’d said and done, trying to make it perfect. And you can’t help but wonder what we learn from the mistakes we make and the consequences of them. If we never had to live with the consequences, would we really learn and make emotional progress?

Eventually, Tim wants to use his powers for more serious issues. For a while I felt like the movie was meandering. I couldn’t figure out where it was going. But I found the last third of the movie wholly satisfying as it made its point, as you may have guessed, about time, and our uses of it. While we don't all get to relive our favorite moments, we can be looking for the beauty of it all while we can. 

You can probably wait for this to come out on DVD; you won’t lose anything in the translation to the smaller screen. And, like Love Actually, it’s not for family movie night, since the young man’s romantic escapades could make for some awkward moments.

If you do go see it at the theater, and you are of the more emotional persuasion, bring some Kleenex and possibly some dark glasses.

 

Cate Blanchett Blossoms in "Blue Jasmine"

Today I finally made it to "Blue Jasmine," the Woody Allen film about a woman whose life has completely come undone. Cate Blanchett plays Jasmine, the wife of a Bernie Madoff-type in the form of a perfectly cast Alec Baldwin. The card house has imploded, she's lost everything. Jasmine does the only thing she can think of: She flees New York to stay with her estranged sister, Ginger. Ginger and Jasmine were both adopted, and they couldn't be more different.

In flashbacks to her old life, we learn that Jasmine moved easily in the world of extreme wealth that her marriage offered her. In the present, people question whether Jasmine knew what kind of schemes her husband had been involved in, how much of the guilt could be laid on her.

Jasmine is not a likeable person. She is arrogant, she feels she deserves special status, and she is coming unglued. Due to her breakdown, she spends a lot of time talking to the air. She seems to feel that commonplace jobs are below her, though she takes a receptionist job she doesn't want. It's hard to understand why she didn't just go work at a high-end clothing store, but that's neither here nor there. She's condescending to her sister and dismissive of her sister's fiancé.

But Cate Blanchett is, as always, utterly fascinating to watch, and somehow she, the script, and Allen's directing conspire to make us feel empathy for her anyway, mostly by making her a victim. This doesn't really play well to a modern feminist sensibility--we don't want women to be considered to all be possible victims of a man's power. There is a sort of Jane Austen-ish dependence on a man to pull a woman out of her prescribed circumstances that I find irritating, yet it may just be true sometimes. Which is funny, because in her more anxious moments, Jasmine sounds like a manic Katherine Hepburn, who is the antithesis of a victim. And maybe even more irritatingly, I couldn't help but think how beautifully dressed she was, which goes completely against the whole point of the movie showing how shallow she really is.

Perhaps I'm too biased in Blanchett's favor to be objective here. After all, she's about my age and height, she's at least as pale as I am, and I'm prone to talking to the air quite a bit myself.

Ginger, a working-class woman who suffers financially in part due to her former brother-in-law's unethical activities, is played by Sally Hawkins. If you don't know Hawkins, you can't help but fall in love with for her performance in the quirky movie from a few years ago, "Happy-Go-Lucky."

I had seen critique of the movie in advance that mentioned Woody Allen's inability to portray working-class people beyond stereotypes. In spite of Hawkins' great performance, and a good turn by Bobby Cannavale as Ginger's fiancé Chili, they are still portrayed as rather unintelligent people, warm-hearted and well-intentioned as they may be. With some seriously bad hair. Certainly they still come off as more generous than Jasmine herself. But it's true that Allen has shortcomings in this area.

If you're into such things, it's fun to look at some of the casting choices. Ginger's ex-husband is played by Andrew Dice Clay, the misogynist comic popular in the 90s. And another 90s throwback is Doogie Howser's best friend Vinnie, also known as Max Casella, who plays Chili's buddy Eddie. Somehow I feel like all of the working-class people sound like they're from the Jersey Shore, even though this is all supposed to take place in San Francisco. I'm from Michigan, what do I know.

The film is interesting and complex, but it's also a downer. Don't go into it looking for something escapist and fun, like Allen's last outing, "Midnight in Paris." But if you are interested in great acting, go to see Blanchett and Hawkins.