...
Inevitably, it seems, I tend to write & update less in the summer. Then I usually begin dropping thoughts in the mid-fall that eventually crescendo around Easter, in which I usually find myself exhausted as we look forward to spring flowers,blossoming trees, and fresh spinach from the garden. It's become a very natural rhythm, though not always due to the same circumstances. The (blogging) drought of this spring/summer has much to do with the development of The Center for Restorative Peacemaking, LLC that happens to include a blog there as well...where you will find that I have posted ten or more times. It is a very focused blog - so I will continue to review films & filmmakers here - as well as give more personal updates.
It is my hope to review our Paul Thomas Anderson retrospective in the coming days. Until then, check out the final extended trailer for The Master - which largely includes footage not found in the theatrical release...
...
Friday, September 28, 2012
Monday, May 14, 2012
City is Undone (Part III - Hell)
...
A Letter - For Ed, From Wendell
...
A Letter - For Ed, From Wendell
Dear Ed,
I dreamed that you and I were sent to Hell.
The place we went was not fiery
or cold, was not Dante's Hell or Milton's,
but was, even so, as true a Hell as any.
It was a place unalterably public
in which crowds of people were rushing
in weary frenzy this way and that,
as when classes change in a university
or at quitting time in a city street,
except that this place was wider far
than we could see, and the crowd as large
as the place. In that crowd everyone
was alone. Everyone was hurrying.
Nobody was sitting down. Nobody
was standing around. All were rushing
so uniformly in every direction, so
uniformly frantic, that to average them
would have stood them still. It was a place
deeply disturbed. We thought, you and I,
that we might get across and come out
on the other side, if we stayed together,
only if we stayed together. The other side
would be a clear day in a place we would know.
We joined hands and hurried along,
snatching each other through small openings
in the throng. But the place was full
of dire distractions, dire satisfactions.
We were torn apart, and I found you
breakfasting upon a huge fried egg.
I snatched you away: "Ed! Come on!"
And then, still susceptible, I met
a lady whose luster no hell could dim.
She took all my thought. But then,
in the midst of my delight, my fear
returned: "Oh! Damn it all! Where's Ed?!"
I fled, searching, and found you again.
We went on together. How this ended
I do not know. I woke before it could end.
But, old friend, I want to tell you
how fine it was, what a durable
nucleus of joy it gave my fright
to force that horrid way with you, how
heavenly, let us say, in spite of Hell.
P.S.
Do you want to know why
you were distracted by an egg, and I
by a beautiful lady? That's Hell.
...
Friday, May 04, 2012
So What Cha Want
...
...
The Beastie Boys invaded my existence on the school bus back in early elementary school - when a 2nd/3rd grade classmate sang "You gotta fight for your right to party" out the school bus window, to a bunch of unassuming, non-empathetic small town adults - like he fucking meant it. Fond, nostalgic memories are not what they used to be. :)
The Beastie Boys not only transitioned with the changing tides of hip-hop, but also found a comfortable home with the alternative/grunge movement of the early nineties. Nothing like that has happened before or since in the history of pop/rock/punk/rap music.
Feed your brain...put the records on...
...
...
The Beastie Boys invaded my existence on the school bus back in early elementary school - when a 2nd/3rd grade classmate sang "You gotta fight for your right to party" out the school bus window, to a bunch of unassuming, non-empathetic small town adults - like he fucking meant it. Fond, nostalgic memories are not what they used to be. :)
The Beastie Boys not only transitioned with the changing tides of hip-hop, but also found a comfortable home with the alternative/grunge movement of the early nineties. Nothing like that has happened before or since in the history of pop/rock/punk/rap music.
Feed your brain...put the records on...
...
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Goodfellas (Understanding Conflict)
...
Last week I had my first session of the PT at the prison. I was told upon arrival that I should just introduce the class for our session - rather than beginning session one, which I was prepared to do. As I was explaining the twelve steps/sessions about fifteen minutes in, I began describing a bit on forgiveness/reconciliation as a foundation, only to have these twenty dudes take it and run with it. I had forgotten that this exact same thing happened, the very first time I introduced PT at RH over three years ago. Prisoners and ex-offenders have plenty to say when the concept/practice of forgiveness is introduced. I love it. I learn so much from their process and experience.
I knew it would be unwise to cut the conversation off (even though we were basically working through session eleven before we had even introduced session one!), so I spontaneously threw on a film clip from the Interrupters (Lil' Mikey at the barbershop) pertaining to the confrontational nature of forgiveness - which lead to an extraordinary discussion. They basically taught the class from there - I just tried to facilitate and elaborate. Exactly what I like to have happen. Inside-out!
One interesting dynamic during the discussion was how the black dudes responded to the film clip as a whole, as a group with support and promotion - and the white dudes all responded as individuals with various skeptical perspectives - making statements like, "That would never happen where I'm from" or "he only did it for the cameras" and other non-imaginative statements. As disappointing as that was to hear, they were each challenged to answer for their cynicism - offered opposing views and perspectives - working through various levels of process. Very appropriate and necessary - really excellent overall.
After finishing up, I left feeling a sense of gratitude - but not necessarily a "high" - more just a sense of "this is normal".
...
Yesterday, I showed up to only about half of the dudes from last week. I knew we would lose a few - which was helpful in order to create a deeper sense of intimacy, support, and care for those who really wanted to continue the discussion. The session began somewhat dry - some of them seemed tired (or actually sleeping) - as we had quite a bit of material to work through regarding "understanding conflict".
One of the dudes straight up called me out, basically like "Who are you?" and "Why do you care?". After a long rabbit trail description of my history, he said, "Ah - so you like Gandhi, huh?". :) I just laughed, assuring everyone that I was not Gandhi - but that Gandhi and MLK were very foundational in this process known as Peacemaking.
As we got deeper into the material - we paused to view a ten minute clip from "Rocky" to illustrate some points. They engaged well from there - and one dude (upon our discussion of the difference between "process" and "content" in conflict) actually shared a recent experience of his in the prison which was a perfect illustration of not just resolving conflict, but transforming it into genuine relational connection with a person of authority. It was brilliant - because it confirmed him and his experience - and totally illustrated a real life/real time "how-to" demonstration from "one of their own" inside the prison. Bottom-up. I am not the teacher.
Another dude, like twenty minutes after we had stopped discussing Rocky, returned to the scene with Paulie (I loved the fact that he had been inwardly processing it despite the fact that we had moved on) - engaging with it on a deeper level - demonstrating the necessity for empathy (which is an actual session down the line). From there we were able to see that Paulie was grieving and ultimately afraid of being alone (because even though he introduced Rocky and Adrian, he now grew jealous because she was becoming independent and seeing herself as worth something more than Paulie's sister/maid). Sounds obvious, but it's hard to see it through the drunkenness, violence, co-dependency, and shame. -all superbly brought to light by an inmate - who also was the first to bring up the idea of "inner conflict" - which transpired in another inmate relating to MJ's "Man in the Mirror" - which I loved. All good.
We ended with some poetry from Tupac Shakur and some chatter about self-expression. Looking forward to next week.
...
Last week I had my first session of the PT at the prison. I was told upon arrival that I should just introduce the class for our session - rather than beginning session one, which I was prepared to do. As I was explaining the twelve steps/sessions about fifteen minutes in, I began describing a bit on forgiveness/reconciliation as a foundation, only to have these twenty dudes take it and run with it. I had forgotten that this exact same thing happened, the very first time I introduced PT at RH over three years ago. Prisoners and ex-offenders have plenty to say when the concept/practice of forgiveness is introduced. I love it. I learn so much from their process and experience.
I knew it would be unwise to cut the conversation off (even though we were basically working through session eleven before we had even introduced session one!), so I spontaneously threw on a film clip from the Interrupters (Lil' Mikey at the barbershop) pertaining to the confrontational nature of forgiveness - which lead to an extraordinary discussion. They basically taught the class from there - I just tried to facilitate and elaborate. Exactly what I like to have happen. Inside-out!
One interesting dynamic during the discussion was how the black dudes responded to the film clip as a whole, as a group with support and promotion - and the white dudes all responded as individuals with various skeptical perspectives - making statements like, "That would never happen where I'm from" or "he only did it for the cameras" and other non-imaginative statements. As disappointing as that was to hear, they were each challenged to answer for their cynicism - offered opposing views and perspectives - working through various levels of process. Very appropriate and necessary - really excellent overall.
After finishing up, I left feeling a sense of gratitude - but not necessarily a "high" - more just a sense of "this is normal".
...
Yesterday, I showed up to only about half of the dudes from last week. I knew we would lose a few - which was helpful in order to create a deeper sense of intimacy, support, and care for those who really wanted to continue the discussion. The session began somewhat dry - some of them seemed tired (or actually sleeping) - as we had quite a bit of material to work through regarding "understanding conflict".
One of the dudes straight up called me out, basically like "Who are you?" and "Why do you care?". After a long rabbit trail description of my history, he said, "Ah - so you like Gandhi, huh?". :) I just laughed, assuring everyone that I was not Gandhi - but that Gandhi and MLK were very foundational in this process known as Peacemaking.
As we got deeper into the material - we paused to view a ten minute clip from "Rocky" to illustrate some points. They engaged well from there - and one dude (upon our discussion of the difference between "process" and "content" in conflict) actually shared a recent experience of his in the prison which was a perfect illustration of not just resolving conflict, but transforming it into genuine relational connection with a person of authority. It was brilliant - because it confirmed him and his experience - and totally illustrated a real life/real time "how-to" demonstration from "one of their own" inside the prison. Bottom-up. I am not the teacher.
Another dude, like twenty minutes after we had stopped discussing Rocky, returned to the scene with Paulie (I loved the fact that he had been inwardly processing it despite the fact that we had moved on) - engaging with it on a deeper level - demonstrating the necessity for empathy (which is an actual session down the line). From there we were able to see that Paulie was grieving and ultimately afraid of being alone (because even though he introduced Rocky and Adrian, he now grew jealous because she was becoming independent and seeing herself as worth something more than Paulie's sister/maid). Sounds obvious, but it's hard to see it through the drunkenness, violence, co-dependency, and shame. -all superbly brought to light by an inmate - who also was the first to bring up the idea of "inner conflict" - which transpired in another inmate relating to MJ's "Man in the Mirror" - which I loved. All good.
We ended with some poetry from Tupac Shakur and some chatter about self-expression. Looking forward to next week.
...
Friday, April 20, 2012
City is Undone (Part II)
...
"One of the peculiarities of the white race's presence in America is how little intention has been applied to it. As a people, wherever we have been, we have never really intended to be. The continent is said to have been discovered by an Italian who was on his way to India. The earliest explorers were looking for gold, which was, after an early streak of luck in Mexico, always somewhat farther on. Conquests and foundings were incidental to this search - which did not, and could not, end until the continent was finally laid open in an orgy of goldseeking in the middle of last [19th] century. Once the unknown of geography was mapped, the industrial marketplace became the new frontier, and we continued, with largely the same motives and with increasing haste and anxiety, to displace ourselves - no longer with unity of direction, like a migrant flock, but like refugees from a broken anthill. In our own time we have invaded foreign lands and the moon with the high-toned patriotism of the conquistadors, and with the same mixture of fantasy and avarice." -Wendell Berry "The Unsettling of America"
...
In more of a mood for processing small portions throughout this process - hoping to be a more mindful consumer of heavy information. For example, "fantasy and avarice"? Dictionary please! Avarice - "excessive or insatiable desire for wealth or gain." Good to know.
Berry immediately confesses that the above statement is too simple - and we will elaborate on the grey zone in several future posts - but for now, we must try sit with a few images (ie "laid open in an orgy of goldseeking") - breathe them in - contemplate them - and put yourself in those images.
...
"The richest one percent of this country owns half our country's wealth, five trillion dollars. One third of that comes from hard work, two thirds comes from inheritance, interest on interest accumulating to widows and idiot sons and what I do, stock and real estate speculation. It's bullshit. You got ninety percent of the American public out there with little or no net worth. I create nothing. I own. We make the rules, pal. The news, war, peace, famine, upheaval, the price per paper clip. We pick that rabbit out of the hat while everybody sits out there wondering how the hell we did it. Now you're not naive enough to think we're living in a democracy, are you buddy? It's the free market. And you're a part of it." - Gordon Gekko 1987
...
"One of the peculiarities of the white race's presence in America is how little intention has been applied to it. As a people, wherever we have been, we have never really intended to be. The continent is said to have been discovered by an Italian who was on his way to India. The earliest explorers were looking for gold, which was, after an early streak of luck in Mexico, always somewhat farther on. Conquests and foundings were incidental to this search - which did not, and could not, end until the continent was finally laid open in an orgy of goldseeking in the middle of last [19th] century. Once the unknown of geography was mapped, the industrial marketplace became the new frontier, and we continued, with largely the same motives and with increasing haste and anxiety, to displace ourselves - no longer with unity of direction, like a migrant flock, but like refugees from a broken anthill. In our own time we have invaded foreign lands and the moon with the high-toned patriotism of the conquistadors, and with the same mixture of fantasy and avarice." -Wendell Berry "The Unsettling of America"
...
In more of a mood for processing small portions throughout this process - hoping to be a more mindful consumer of heavy information. For example, "fantasy and avarice"? Dictionary please! Avarice - "excessive or insatiable desire for wealth or gain." Good to know.
Berry immediately confesses that the above statement is too simple - and we will elaborate on the grey zone in several future posts - but for now, we must try sit with a few images (ie "laid open in an orgy of goldseeking") - breathe them in - contemplate them - and put yourself in those images.
...
Watch Money, Power and Wall Street on PBS. See more from FRONTLINE.
"The richest one percent of this country owns half our country's wealth, five trillion dollars. One third of that comes from hard work, two thirds comes from inheritance, interest on interest accumulating to widows and idiot sons and what I do, stock and real estate speculation. It's bullshit. You got ninety percent of the American public out there with little or no net worth. I create nothing. I own. We make the rules, pal. The news, war, peace, famine, upheaval, the price per paper clip. We pick that rabbit out of the hat while everybody sits out there wondering how the hell we did it. Now you're not naive enough to think we're living in a democracy, are you buddy? It's the free market. And you're a part of it." - Gordon Gekko 1987
...
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
City is Undone (Part I)
...
In continuing to consider Tree of Life-esque dichotomies through the whole mind of Wendell Berry, I first thought it appropriate to post a poem from the Mad Farmer series, that speaks quietly regarding the spirituality of women and trees.
...
As my first blow against it, I would not stay.
As my second, I learned to live without it.
As my third, I went back one day and saw
that my departure had left a little hole
where some of its strength was flowing out,
and I heard the earth singing beneath the street.
Singing quietly myself, I followed the song
among the traffic. Everywhere I went, singing,
following the song, the stones cracked,
and I heard it stronger. I heard it strongest
in the presence of women. There was one I met
who had the music of the ground in her, and she
was its dancer. “O Exile,” I sang, “for want of you
there is a tree that has borne no leaves
and a planting season that will not turn warm.”
Looking at her, I felt a tightening of roots
under the pavement, and I turned and went
with her a little way, dancing beside her.
And I saw a black woman still inhabiting
as in a dream the space of the open fields
where she had bent to plant and gather. She stood
rooted in the music I heard, pliant and proud
as a stalk of wheat with the grain heavy. No man
with the city thrusting angles in his brain
is equal to her. To reach her he must tear it down.
Wherever lovely women are the city is undone,
its geometry broken in pieces and lifted,
its street and corners fading like mist at sunrise
above groves and meadows and planted fields.
Wendell Berry “The Mad Farmer in the City,” in Farming: A Handbook (1970)
...
In continuing to consider Tree of Life-esque dichotomies through the whole mind of Wendell Berry, I first thought it appropriate to post a poem from the Mad Farmer series, that speaks quietly regarding the spirituality of women and trees.
...
As my first blow against it, I would not stay.
As my second, I learned to live without it.
As my third, I went back one day and saw
that my departure had left a little hole
where some of its strength was flowing out,
and I heard the earth singing beneath the street.
Singing quietly myself, I followed the song
among the traffic. Everywhere I went, singing,
following the song, the stones cracked,
and I heard it stronger. I heard it strongest
in the presence of women. There was one I met
who had the music of the ground in her, and she
was its dancer. “O Exile,” I sang, “for want of you
there is a tree that has borne no leaves
and a planting season that will not turn warm.”
Looking at her, I felt a tightening of roots
under the pavement, and I turned and went
with her a little way, dancing beside her.
And I saw a black woman still inhabiting
as in a dream the space of the open fields
where she had bent to plant and gather. She stood
rooted in the music I heard, pliant and proud
as a stalk of wheat with the grain heavy. No man
with the city thrusting angles in his brain
is equal to her. To reach her he must tear it down.
Wherever lovely women are the city is undone,
its geometry broken in pieces and lifted,
its street and corners fading like mist at sunrise
above groves and meadows and planted fields.
Wendell Berry “The Mad Farmer in the City,” in Farming: A Handbook (1970)
...
Saturday, April 07, 2012
Holy Saturday (Tree of Life)
...
With each screening (fourth), Tree of Life becomes more cohesive, more revealing - as any "great" film should. This is a great film - maybe the last of it's kind. So few living filmmakers see and understand the in-depth (often hidden) links between family/marriage/friendship, spirituality, and film itself. Ozu, Dreyer, Truffaut, Tarkovsky, Bergman, Kieslowski, Rohmer, and Kurosawa all understood this [Patchwork]...but they have all passed on into transcendence - several of them much too early.
Malick creates a film that walks us through a grief process that is at once excruciatingly personal, while also universal...literally. Whether Job or Jesus (or a dinosaur), our "Father" has something to teach us through severe loss, abandonment, mystery, and paradox. {"Where were you when I laid the foundations of the Earth, when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?} Since the grief process demands that we move from guilt to gratitude, we are forced to either reject the process (sulk in denial), or work towards acceptance and reconciliation. That is exactly what the last few chapters in the book of Job convey - God demands that Job no longer be blinded by guilt/shame/blame/pride/judgement - but open his eyes to his own smallness, humility - and be grateful, be alive, accept suffering, engage pain - have faith in something greater, in something mysterious, unknown. If we view the whole of Tree of Life through these elements, we can see the deep relationship between being a family in a "small" town...and the creation of the universe. Our "inter-being" becomes a new lens for us to process our context...
...and not just with the greater universe, but also with the visual nexus of the tree outside your window that breathes in carbon dioxide, then releases oxygen...and the tree inside of us that breathes in oxygen, then releases carbon dioxide...
(Photo: Our lungs, or inner Tree of Life, upside-down)
...
Still yet, this film is about acknowledging the existence, passing, and halting of time. "We are spanning...time" (Buffalo '66 quote for the day). Any particular "time frame" in Tree of Life confronts us with our limitations, disabilities, and mortality, as well as our growth, evolution, possibilities, and hopes. If we are present to the "eternal now" in the film, and at the same time aware of the relative passing of universal time - we feel something - and our only response may be emotional - because being consciously aware of our own limited time is always devastating at first thought. The reality is...that being aware of the hidden, the "glory" all around us, takes a faith and a strength that we as individuals don't "naturally" have - certainly not without love, "grace", eye contact, intercourse, music, forgiveness, affection, film, spirituality, God, Easter. Holy Moments. Holy Cinema.
Isn't that the power of photography? The capacity to contemplate a moment in time after it has passed - to not forget? Isn't the fear of forgetting greater than the fear of death?
Because of those fears, we conceptually structure our lives around security, safety, control - creating calenders and clocks so that we can compartmentalize and own our time - yet rarely are we "present" to the eternal now or aware of the flow (river) of time. Nathanial Dorsky describes this regarding the process of filmmaking...of which the presentation of time is so vital...
Take a deep breath into your bronchial tree - then read that quote again.
...
If we can begin to see the vitality and inter-being of Malick's process, narrative, and presentation, then maybe we will be capable of understanding the spiritual glue that holds the film together. First, we have a de-spiritualized (though not de-humanized) father and son, constantly fighting against their own nature - the father full of pride and ambition - the son full of guilt and shame.
Second, we have the mother, who is a bit dehumanized, in order to fully represent the manifestation of spirituality interwoven into the film. Whereas I have perceived that Ingmar Bergman could only portray his deepest psychology through the female "persona" - Malick seems to only understand the essence of spirituality (and possibly even God) through the healing affection of all things feminine. The final sequence presents us with a female "Holy Spirit", who guides us to reconciliation. During the creation scene, we are presented with a giant space vagina (funny to say, but awe-inspiring to see) that gives birth to the universe. Is this God giving birth? Then we have a beautiful scene with a child opening up a door underwater and swimming out as a new creation, which then cuts to the actual birth. And as we know, at least theologically, we are ultimately dependent on God for food, power, guidance, forgiveness, etc. - just as we know that the infant child is dependent upon his/her mother for food, affection, guidance, affirmation, and love.
"In the first hours of life, we begin to search out the faces and eyes of those around us and show a preference for our mothers' faces...The fixation on the mother's face is an obligatory brainstem reflex that ensures the 'imprinting' of this vital social information." (Cozolino 2006)
They have been separated, the child from the womb - creating a sense of desperation for both mother and child to remain interwoven through eye contact, affection, and feeding. The process seems designed to be that way. And Malick allows it to speak into our being, here and now, wanting us to understand and know that our interbeing is tangible, sustainable, if we are willing to open up and allow it to shine.
The disconnected and jealous father doesn't understand his children - only wants to prepare them for the kill, for survival. "Your mother's naive. It takes fierce will to get ahead in this world. If you're good, people take advantage of you." Soon enough, the son is caught in between nature and grace, shame and acceptance.
I love the scene where the son hugs his demanding father while be reprimanded. The hug was a brief, but necessary interruption. It was recaptured during the forgiveness scene between father and son. I love those scenes because that is my daily reality with my children. They interrupt my bullshit everyday with hugs, smiles, improvised dances, messages of affection and love - and I ask for forgiveness when I am wrong, too harsh, irritated, impatient. I allowed all four kids help me plant peas, spinach, beets, and lettuce. Marion got into the lettuce bed after the seeds were sown in - and now we have bunches instead of rows - but it makes me smile because it is an interruption of the norm - of the "appropriate". It brings me into the eternal now.
Last night we had a contemplative prayer walk around our neighborhood before the Good Friday service. It happened during "Magic Hour" - which gave it a very Malickian cinematic presence - particularly at the gardens, where resurrection peppers will soon be growing. "Poetic and vibrant...ripe with mystery".
(Malick's manifestation of the Holy Spirit in black)
To conclude...what Bergman long ago said about Tarkovsky, I will also say about Malick on this Holy Saturday...
Welcome Easter. Thank God for resurrection.
...
With each screening (fourth), Tree of Life becomes more cohesive, more revealing - as any "great" film should. This is a great film - maybe the last of it's kind. So few living filmmakers see and understand the in-depth (often hidden) links between family/marriage/friendship, spirituality, and film itself. Ozu, Dreyer, Truffaut, Tarkovsky, Bergman, Kieslowski, Rohmer, and Kurosawa all understood this [Patchwork]...but they have all passed on into transcendence - several of them much too early.
Malick creates a film that walks us through a grief process that is at once excruciatingly personal, while also universal...literally. Whether Job or Jesus (or a dinosaur), our "Father" has something to teach us through severe loss, abandonment, mystery, and paradox. {"Where were you when I laid the foundations of the Earth, when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?} Since the grief process demands that we move from guilt to gratitude, we are forced to either reject the process (sulk in denial), or work towards acceptance and reconciliation. That is exactly what the last few chapters in the book of Job convey - God demands that Job no longer be blinded by guilt/shame/blame/pride/judgement - but open his eyes to his own smallness, humility - and be grateful, be alive, accept suffering, engage pain - have faith in something greater, in something mysterious, unknown. If we view the whole of Tree of Life through these elements, we can see the deep relationship between being a family in a "small" town...and the creation of the universe. Our "inter-being" becomes a new lens for us to process our context...
...and not just with the greater universe, but also with the visual nexus of the tree outside your window that breathes in carbon dioxide, then releases oxygen...and the tree inside of us that breathes in oxygen, then releases carbon dioxide...
(Photo: Our lungs, or inner Tree of Life, upside-down)
...
Still yet, this film is about acknowledging the existence, passing, and halting of time. "We are spanning...time" (Buffalo '66 quote for the day). Any particular "time frame" in Tree of Life confronts us with our limitations, disabilities, and mortality, as well as our growth, evolution, possibilities, and hopes. If we are present to the "eternal now" in the film, and at the same time aware of the relative passing of universal time - we feel something - and our only response may be emotional - because being consciously aware of our own limited time is always devastating at first thought. The reality is...that being aware of the hidden, the "glory" all around us, takes a faith and a strength that we as individuals don't "naturally" have - certainly not without love, "grace", eye contact, intercourse, music, forgiveness, affection, film, spirituality, God, Easter. Holy Moments. Holy Cinema.
Isn't that the power of photography? The capacity to contemplate a moment in time after it has passed - to not forget? Isn't the fear of forgetting greater than the fear of death?
Because of those fears, we conceptually structure our lives around security, safety, control - creating calenders and clocks so that we can compartmentalize and own our time - yet rarely are we "present" to the eternal now or aware of the flow (river) of time. Nathanial Dorsky describes this regarding the process of filmmaking...of which the presentation of time is so vital...
"When absolute [time] and temporal [time] are unified, film becomes a narrative of nowness and reveals things for what they are rather than as surrogates for some predetermined concept. It is the fear of direct contact with the uncontrollable present that motivates the flight into concept...
If we do relinquish control, we suddenly see a hidden world, one that has existed all along right in front of us. In a flash, the uncanny presence of this poetic and vibrant world, ripe with mystery, stands before us. Everything is expressing itself as what it is. Everything is alive and talking to us."
Take a deep breath into your bronchial tree - then read that quote again.
...
If we can begin to see the vitality and inter-being of Malick's process, narrative, and presentation, then maybe we will be capable of understanding the spiritual glue that holds the film together. First, we have a de-spiritualized (though not de-humanized) father and son, constantly fighting against their own nature - the father full of pride and ambition - the son full of guilt and shame.
Pride - "Nature only wants to please itself. Get others to please it too. Likes to lord it over them. To have its own way. It finds reasons to be unhappy when all the world is shining around it. And love is smiling through all things."
...
Shame - "Where were You? You let a boy die. You let anything happen. Why should I be good? When You aren't."
Second, we have the mother, who is a bit dehumanized, in order to fully represent the manifestation of spirituality interwoven into the film. Whereas I have perceived that Ingmar Bergman could only portray his deepest psychology through the female "persona" - Malick seems to only understand the essence of spirituality (and possibly even God) through the healing affection of all things feminine. The final sequence presents us with a female "Holy Spirit", who guides us to reconciliation. During the creation scene, we are presented with a giant space vagina (funny to say, but awe-inspiring to see) that gives birth to the universe. Is this God giving birth? Then we have a beautiful scene with a child opening up a door underwater and swimming out as a new creation, which then cuts to the actual birth. And as we know, at least theologically, we are ultimately dependent on God for food, power, guidance, forgiveness, etc. - just as we know that the infant child is dependent upon his/her mother for food, affection, guidance, affirmation, and love.
"In the first hours of life, we begin to search out the faces and eyes of those around us and show a preference for our mothers' faces...The fixation on the mother's face is an obligatory brainstem reflex that ensures the 'imprinting' of this vital social information." (Cozolino 2006)
They have been separated, the child from the womb - creating a sense of desperation for both mother and child to remain interwoven through eye contact, affection, and feeding. The process seems designed to be that way. And Malick allows it to speak into our being, here and now, wanting us to understand and know that our interbeing is tangible, sustainable, if we are willing to open up and allow it to shine.
"Help each other.
Love everyone.
Every leaf.
Every ray of light.
Forgive."
The disconnected and jealous father doesn't understand his children - only wants to prepare them for the kill, for survival. "Your mother's naive. It takes fierce will to get ahead in this world. If you're good, people take advantage of you." Soon enough, the son is caught in between nature and grace, shame and acceptance.
"I wanted to be loved because I was great; A big man. I'm nothing. Look at the glory around us; trees, birds. I lived in shame. I dishonored it all, and didn't notice the glory. I'm a foolish man."
I love the scene where the son hugs his demanding father while be reprimanded. The hug was a brief, but necessary interruption. It was recaptured during the forgiveness scene between father and son. I love those scenes because that is my daily reality with my children. They interrupt my bullshit everyday with hugs, smiles, improvised dances, messages of affection and love - and I ask for forgiveness when I am wrong, too harsh, irritated, impatient. I allowed all four kids help me plant peas, spinach, beets, and lettuce. Marion got into the lettuce bed after the seeds were sown in - and now we have bunches instead of rows - but it makes me smile because it is an interruption of the norm - of the "appropriate". It brings me into the eternal now.
Last night we had a contemplative prayer walk around our neighborhood before the Good Friday service. It happened during "Magic Hour" - which gave it a very Malickian cinematic presence - particularly at the gardens, where resurrection peppers will soon be growing. "Poetic and vibrant...ripe with mystery".
(Malick's manifestation of the Holy Spirit in black)
To conclude...what Bergman long ago said about Tarkovsky, I will also say about Malick on this Holy Saturday...
"Suddenly I found myself standing at the door of a room, the keys to which, until then, had never been given to me. It was a room I had always wanted to enter...where he was moving freely and fully at ease. I felt encouraged and stimulated: someone was expressing what I had always wanted to say without knowing how. {Malick} is for me the greatest, the one who invented a new language, true to the nature of film, as it captures life as a reflection, life as a dream."
Welcome Easter. Thank God for resurrection.
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Monday, March 26, 2012
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
"A Gun to Your Head is a Gun to My Head"
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Thanks to Old Hundred for the great post title.
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When I read "Black Mass" several years ago, it was with the intent of simply reading some recent history of the place that we had lived in for three years. I did not anticipate discovering a much deeper truth about the nature and essence of "politics". The boundary lines were not just blurred between the mob and the FBI, they simply didn't exist. And sure, there were good guys and bad guys and in-between guys, but it didn't matter which one you were, because everyone was tied to something or someone else - an alliance (often tied to deeper alliances) - that prevented honesty, transparency, and integrity, because that shit will get you tossed back down to the bottom of the ladder quicker than the mob will throw you off the roof of a high rise. Maybe you remember what happened to Martin Sheen in "The Departed"?
...
"There are few things more fundamentally encouraging and stimulating than seeing someone else die."
I chose "Paths of Glory" for our Lenten Film Series, so that we might suffer the reality of politics - so that we might enter into a time of lament - knowing that the outcome of political relationships and political decisions are most often division and war, not democracy and peace - particularly in a presidential election year. I also chose it so that we might be reminded of the law-abiding political context in which Jesus Christ was crucified.
A political relationship is not an honest relationship. Rank and position define power and authority in political relationships, meaning inequality is the foundation for how those relationships are understood, which is why an alliance (political party) is so necessary, even when it binds and gags. Interestingly, when Col. Dax tries to break through the inequality with integrity, it is awkwardly (though not inappropriately) assumed that Dax's hidden agenda is to climb rank.
David Ehrenstein also questions Dax's idealism..."Kubrick makes it abundantly clear that Dax is the hero of the film, with Douglas—in a wonderfully disciplined performance—railing against injustice. But at the same time Kubrick adds an element of doubt. Is Dax, the passionate, sincere, “good” officer, at heart all that different from the “evil old men” he despises? Brave and forthright as he may be, isn’t Dax more than a little foolish in thinking some semblance of “truth” or “justice” might be wrested from the organized insanity of war?"
I like Col. Dax. I want to believe that we should be more than a little foolish by interrupting (with honesty and integrity) our various levels of structure that we build for ourselves, from our family unit, to our religious institutions, our economy, our system of education, and our overtly political government - even when there is no inherent semblance of Truth to be seen. With that, we should be aware of a notable judge in town that has opened an unseen door for hope and possibility inside the municipal courts. According to his story (below), he got bored, decided to invite God into the structure, then suddenly found himself "restoring justice"...
Maybe if we enter into a time of lament and invite God into our boredom - our eyes might be opened and we might suddenly recognize the sand beneath the downtown skyline - and maybe we will see a door of opportunity that no one else can see.
...
Thanks to Old Hundred for the great post title.
...
When I read "Black Mass" several years ago, it was with the intent of simply reading some recent history of the place that we had lived in for three years. I did not anticipate discovering a much deeper truth about the nature and essence of "politics". The boundary lines were not just blurred between the mob and the FBI, they simply didn't exist. And sure, there were good guys and bad guys and in-between guys, but it didn't matter which one you were, because everyone was tied to something or someone else - an alliance (often tied to deeper alliances) - that prevented honesty, transparency, and integrity, because that shit will get you tossed back down to the bottom of the ladder quicker than the mob will throw you off the roof of a high rise. Maybe you remember what happened to Martin Sheen in "The Departed"?
...
"There are few things more fundamentally encouraging and stimulating than seeing someone else die."
I chose "Paths of Glory" for our Lenten Film Series, so that we might suffer the reality of politics - so that we might enter into a time of lament - knowing that the outcome of political relationships and political decisions are most often division and war, not democracy and peace - particularly in a presidential election year. I also chose it so that we might be reminded of the law-abiding political context in which Jesus Christ was crucified.
Now it was the governor’s custom at the festival to release a prisoner chosen by the crowd. At that time they had a well-known prisoner whose name was Jesus Barabbas. So when the crowd had gathered, Pilate asked them, “Which one do you want me to release to you: Jesus Barabbas, or Jesus who is called the Messiah?” For he knew it was out of self-interest that they had handed Jesus over to him.
The chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowd to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus executed.
“What shall I do, then, with Jesus who is called the Messiah?” Pilate asked.
They all answered, “Crucify him!”
“Why? What crime has he committed?” asked Pilate.
But they shouted all the louder, “Crucify him!”
When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” he said. “It is your responsibility!”
A political relationship is not an honest relationship. Rank and position define power and authority in political relationships, meaning inequality is the foundation for how those relationships are understood, which is why an alliance (political party) is so necessary, even when it binds and gags. Interestingly, when Col. Dax tries to break through the inequality with integrity, it is awkwardly (though not inappropriately) assumed that Dax's hidden agenda is to climb rank.
General Broulard: Colonel Dax, you're a disappointment to me. You've spoiled the keenness of your mind by wallowing in sentimentality. You really did want to save those men, and you were not angling for Mireau's command. You are an idealist... and I pity you as I would the village idiot. We're fighting a war, Dax, a war that we've got to win. Those men didn't fight, so they were shot. You bring charges against General Mireau, so I insist that he answer them. Wherein have I done wrong?
Colonel Dax: Because you don't know the answer to that question. I pity you.
David Ehrenstein also questions Dax's idealism..."Kubrick makes it abundantly clear that Dax is the hero of the film, with Douglas—in a wonderfully disciplined performance—railing against injustice. But at the same time Kubrick adds an element of doubt. Is Dax, the passionate, sincere, “good” officer, at heart all that different from the “evil old men” he despises? Brave and forthright as he may be, isn’t Dax more than a little foolish in thinking some semblance of “truth” or “justice” might be wrested from the organized insanity of war?"
I like Col. Dax. I want to believe that we should be more than a little foolish by interrupting (with honesty and integrity) our various levels of structure that we build for ourselves, from our family unit, to our religious institutions, our economy, our system of education, and our overtly political government - even when there is no inherent semblance of Truth to be seen. With that, we should be aware of a notable judge in town that has opened an unseen door for hope and possibility inside the municipal courts. According to his story (below), he got bored, decided to invite God into the structure, then suddenly found himself "restoring justice"...
Judge Paul M. Herbert, Franklin County Municipal Court from R. York Moore on Vimeo.
Maybe if we enter into a time of lament and invite God into our boredom - our eyes might be opened and we might suddenly recognize the sand beneath the downtown skyline - and maybe we will see a door of opportunity that no one else can see.
...
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