Hospitality and Doing Church in "The Overnighters"

The town of Williston, ND has experienced an influx of new people and new money in the last decade. The fracking industry has turned towns like Williston into boomtowns, while all over the United States people struggle to find work. The result? Migration.

Men from all over migrate to North Dakota in search of work, good wages, or a fresh start. Some have done time in prison and can’t get hired elsewhere; others have been sent out by their families to make a better life for the whole family.

But reality can never live up to the dream. The boom has created massive increases in the cost of living, and housing at any cost is in short supply. One pastor’s response to the need is the subject of the documentary, The Overnighters.

Jay Reinke, the pastor at the Lutheran church in Williston, sees the arrival of strangers in need as an opportunity to practice hospitality and grace. After one person needed a place for the night and stayed at the church, a new ministry began. The church welcomed people to sleep in the church itself or in their vehicles in the church parking lot while they searched for work and housing.

The pastor, who speaks eloquently for the need to help our fellow human beings and to resist the temptation to live in fear, makes some mistakes along the way, mistakes that you may have seen at any given church in any given situation. The program is never formally voted on or created—it just happens. So some people never buy in. He is also not entirely upfront with the elders about some issues because he is concerned that they will throw in the towel.

Most of the film, I sat there astounded at the way the good and the ugly of being part of a church family was so well represented here. I kept thinking “Everyone in every church should see this movie and be part of a discussion group about it.”

But there is a twist close to the end of the movie that could easily change the conversation. It left me dumbfounded that people would choose to have these particular conversations on camera. Still, if you like documentaries that make you think, and particularly if you are in a movie group, I would recommend this fascinating and sad portrait of our times.

Birdman and the Trouble with Recommending Movies

So there’s this thing that happens where critics absolutely love a movie. And then us normal people go see it, because the critics love it. And a portion of the people who go see it love it. A few of that portion love it because they were told they were going to love it. And the rest of the people who go see it come out saying “that was one weird movie.”

I figure I’m somewhere on the spectrum between critic and normal person. I often think critically-acclaimed movies are weird. I also get why critics look at movies differently, because if you see a ton of movies you start to see a lot of the same things over and over, so something unusual really stands out. I think that’s why lots of people read critics like the GR Press’s John Serba and wonder why his opinions seldom mesh with their own.

This is all a very long way of explaining my mixed reactions to movies. A few weeks ago I saw St. Vincent, which had Bill Murray behaving very badly while the neighbor boy saw more in him than anyone else. I enjoyed it very much. As a film, it had some faults—there are some flaws in its sequencing, it is predictable, and it is sentimental. But I laughed a lot, had some surprises along the way, and left with a warm feeling for my fellow human beings. It’s a movie I would recommend to a number of people, in spite of the flaws.

Last week I saw Birdman, which is also about people behaving very badly, and which gives us Michael Keaton in the best performance of his life. He plays an aging actor, Riggan Thomson, who is best known for a superhero role he had in the 90s, Birdman. Sort of like Batman, who Keaton himself played in the 90s.

The movie opens on Riggan, meditating while wearing only his tighty-whities. He is trying to make a name for himself again by writing, directing, and starring in a Broadway play. He is haunted by a voice that constantly tells him either what a loser he is or that he is way too good for everyone and everything around him.

Emma Stone plays Riggan’s daughter, Sam. She is fresh out of rehab, and he has hired her to be his assistant. Riggan’s been a poor father, and he is trying, pretty unsuccessfully, to make it up to her.

As opening night draws closer, it becomes obvious that the younger actor in the play is not right for the part, and at the last minute Riggan brings in Mike (the also amazing Edward Norton), a big-name actor who will draw a crowd. Mike is very good, at least while he’s in character. As himself, he is on a constant power trip, and he treats the people around him terribly.

The egos and the insecurities are enormous and they make for an incestuous crew as the actors look to each other for validation and support in different, mostly destructive, ways. All of these actors demonstrate that they are, in reality, “a gaping black hole of need” as a writer friend describes her dog. They hurt themselves and those around them in their search for importance and acceptance. At one point, Sam turns to father and tells him "you're scared to death, like the rest of us, that you don't matter!" 

And then there is the theater critic, waiting in the wings to swoop in and either make or break the production. Riggan tells her that while actors and directors pour their lifeblood and energy into a play, all she does is sit back and criticize, risking nothing. Hey, wait a minute, how did I end up paying to have someone attack my little hobby??? There is truth in what he says.

Birdman is a technically brilliant movie. The acting is incredible. The director used a small number of “sets” to give the feeling of watching a stage play, and at the same time the use of tight spaces gives viewers the same claustrophobic feeling that the actors must experience in their tightly circumscribed roles and expectations.

The film is also probably a very sharp skewering of theater life, but I have very little knowledge of theater life. My teens are on the sets and props crew for this fall’s high school version of Oliver! but I don’t think that qualifies me to speak knowledgably on the subject!

The characters are mostly coarse, self-absorbed, and/or mean-spirited people. Sam is the most sympathetic character, and she still seems pretty lost.

So while St. Vincent entertained and left me loving people a little more, Birdman gives me a stark, at times funny, look at the naked need and ambition of less lovable characters. At the same time, St. Vincent is guilty of some sloppy filmmaking, but Birdman is razor sharp. Whether or not you should see either of them all depends on what you are looking for when you go to the movies.

 

 

Middle-Aged White Lady on "Dear White People"

The headline I read that called Dear White People “White Privilege 101” was not far off. This movie, set at a fictional Ivy League institution called Winchester University, explores what it is like to live as the minority in a predominantly white place, where white people have most of the power.

At the start of the movie, you learn that there has been a party where white students came in black-face, and it turned into a protest or a riot, depending on your perspective. Over the course of the film, the events leading up to the party give insight into the problems that have been brewing on the campus, which are numerous.

Sam, a young woman with a campus radio show called “Dear White People,” becomes a figurehead for a group that is trying to create change at the school. As much as she wants change, she chafes under the label of angry young black woman.

Troy Fairbanks, incumbent head of house of the historically black residence, is the son of the black dean at Winchester and is intended to be the poster child for the successful black Winchester student. Troy is dating the white daughter of the university president, who is also the frenemy of Troy’s father. To escape the tension of being who his father wants to be, Troy is getting high in his bathroom.

Lionel, a gay black man with an enormous Afro, is trying to survive his educational experience at a school where he doesn’t seem to fit in anywhere. When one student asks him sarcastically “What’s harder, being black enough for the black kids or being black enough for the white ones?” he answers “Being neither.”

And Coco is a young woman from a less financially stable background who wants to fit in. At first, she wants to pretend that all is well racially and just move on already. At the same time, she is wanting to make a name for herself.  

All of these people are struggling with their identity. Who do they want to be? Who do they have to represent? How are they perceived? These are normal questions for young people, but when you add in the social expectations and assumptions that people make about you because of your skin color, it becomes much more difficult to sort out.

As a very heated campus moves closer to the fateful night of the party, everyone’s identity issues come to a head.

There are touches of Do the Right Thing and the old TV shows “The Cosby Show” and “A Different World.” There are also somewhat derisive comments directed at all three of those things.

The big man on campus is Kurt, son of the aforementioned university president. He is white, and for some reason he dresses and talks like he is one of the Jets who just walked off the set of West Side Story. But he does some truly hateful things that I’m sure even the Jets never would have done.

There are some downfalls to the movie. What makes it work is that the film has, for the most part, a sharp, intelligent humor that makes everyone watching it think deeply about who you are and who you expect people to be. And a few photos from real-life college parties like this one are shown during the end credits, which really brought it all home to me.

I think this would be a great movie to see with a group of people interested in having an honest discussion of racism and white privilege. Don’t take the kids just yet—the language and other, um, college activities are not intended for younger eyes.

 

 

Sort of Stellar "Interstellar"

This week my two teens and I went to see an early screening of Interstellar, an epic space movie that has been eagerly awaited by the legion who are fans of director Christopher Nolan. You can count me in that category thanks to Memento and Inception, because I love the puzzle-like qualities of those films.

Interstellar is about a dystopian Earth that has dried up and just suffers one sandstorm after another due to overpopulation and climate change. The only thing they can grow now is corn. Matthew McConaughey used to be an engineer and a NASA test pilot, but now he’s a farmer just like everyone else, trying to grow enough corn to keep the population alive.

Eventually he ends up discovering a scientific team who is working to find another planet that people can inhabit. He gets sent into space to explore some possible planets, which is possible thanks to a mysterious wormhole that has opened up near Saturn (think tesseract like in A Wrinkle in Time). Of course, his children, and his daughter in particular, are not happy that he is going to be shot into another galaxy, because if you had Matthew McConaughey in your family you might want to keep him close too. I enjoyed the warmth and family dynamics of the early portion of the movie.

The space travel that came next felt very real. I say that with all of the space travel knowledge of someone who has both seen all the Star Wars movies AND has been to Epcot. We saw the movie in IMAX which is likely the best (and loudest) way to see this one. I enjoyed the tremendous visuals of the different planets.

There were also lots of stars, by which I mean the people in the movie. But they aren’t all given something interesting to do, which is unfortunate. John Lithgow is such a talented actor, but he’s not given much to work with. I also really enjoy Anne Hathaway sometimes (see Becoming Jane in which she plays a young Jane Austen in a somewhat maudlin yet sighworthy film opposite James McAvoy. Sigh. Wait, what was I saying?). Here her character was never fully developed.

The movie is overlong and too drawn out. There is lots of scientific talk with varying degrees of realness, not that I would know the difference. But I did read an article afterward that told me what was real and what was not. The point isn’t whether it was real or not, but that they talked about it too much.

A big piece of the movie is relativity—particularly in time. Time passes slower on one planet than on another. Let’s just say that at the end of three hours I felt like I’d been on a space journey myself and that I came back a few years older than when I left. Reactions from my teens: the manchild felt satisfied by such an egregious amount of science that he could pick apart and ruminate on. He really liked it. The womanchild looked a bit like she might fall asleep a few times, but at the end she stood up and said “I saw a smart person’s movie. And I think I even understood it.”

So it’s a mixed bag. For a movie that, in part, deals with more dimensions than we currently perceive, it fell a bit flat.