Tag: Inauguration

This Is NOT (exactly) about Barack Obama – the Last Time for a While – It’s About Slumdog Millionaire (Hint: Not the Greatest Movie Ever Made)

Slumdog1
Fair warning.  I'm about to be contrarian, so if you're fond of Slumdog Millionaire, stop reading now.  I've just come from the theater, disappointed and even angry.  Granted, I don't read reviews before I see films; they give away so much that they spoil the impact of brilliant scenes and great dialogue.  So it's my own fault that I didn't know about the torture scene and the one where the kid is blinded when molten lead is poured into his eyes.  Just what you need in a fairy tale, right?  I was with someone I'd leaned on to come, someone who is squeamish and subject to nightmares, and there we were, experiencing vivid and disturbing imagery in considerable detail.

I want some more
Beyond that, even though, as far as I can tell, there aren't many who agree with me, there's much that seriously detracts from the enjoyment of this film.  I'm going to risk my emotional and artistic credibility and describe some of it.

First, it's highly derivative, a mix of The Usual Suspects police station flashbacks and Oliver Twist. Especially Oliver Twist, complete with Fagin, street urchins in great numbers, mischief and loss.  Beyond that, much of its emotional power leaches from political correctness.  We always root for the underdog; that's fair, and anyone who knows me will tell you that I'm a sucker for a fairy tale.  But there was something manipulative about this story: an unimaginably poor, dark-skinned street urchin in one of the roughest cities in India, facing down the establishment.

Despite the rhapsodic descriptions of handheld camera work that brought the slums of Mumbai live into the theater, they did not feel real.  I know much of the film was shot in the city, and some of the scenes were OK.  But I've been in neighborhoods like these in other countries and no matter how colorful and alive, they are sadder and more dangerous than these.  Oh, and everyone had very good teeth.  Not possible.

So why, on the eve of the most momentous Inauguration in the history of this country, am I complaining about a movie a couple of months old that will probably win many awards?  I'm not sure.  Like everyone else, I'm full of wonder at what is coming on Tuesday.  It will dominate this space for some time.  Today though, as we await the climax of this real story of triumph and ideals, the not-so-credible tale that is this film was a poor substitute.

Tuesday Tour #2

Tourist with suitcasesThis Tuesday Tour is actually doing some random wandering. You know, we do it so you don't have to.  First of all, Women's Rights at Change.org features two great posts in a row:  One on equal pay laws and the risk they may pose.  It's very provocative, and crammed with both information and exciting ideas.  The second is an intriguing meditation on the emergence (or not) of the Fourth Wave of feminism.  They'll keep you busy thinking long after you've read them.

In case you missed this one, the inimitable Leslie Bradshaw describes a whole new way to look at online advertising.  Whether you have online real estate or not, this concept of "nanotargeting" is intriguing, and a little unsettling.  For comfort, go see the most amazing pair of shoes ever.  Really.

Educators take note:  Jason Fall's Social Media Explorer not only offers a list of the top election blogs but also, in a great lesson in Internet research, explains how he found them.  The always-wise Charlene Li has altered her year-end predictions; which deals, appropriately this close to the Inauguration, with "the Obama-maniacs."  BlogHer's Erin Kotecki Vest previews BlogHer Inauguration coverage plans.   And we end with another inauguration story – but it's more fun if you don't know what it is until you get there.  See you tomorrow.

John Kennedy, Barack Obama, 2 Inaugurations and 2 Generations of Dreamers

JFK Inaugural crowd
I seem to be living in the WayBack Machine this year.  Lots of memories of 1968 and even 1963.  Now as January 20, 2009 approaches, yet another looms.  January 20, certainly, but in 1961.

See that crowd?  Somewhere, way in the back, probably at least a block beyond, stand an almost-fifteen-year-old girl and her mother.  Fresh off an overnight train from Pittsburgh, having arrived at Union Station in time to watch the Army flame-throwers melt a blizzard’s worth of snow on the streets of the inaugural route, they make their way to their parade seats: in the bleachers, way down near the Treasure Building.  

I spent most of 1960 besotted with John Kennedy.  And Jackie.  And Caroline.  And all the other Kennedys who came with them.  Most of my lunch money went to bus fare as, after school, I shuttled  back and forth “to town” to volunteer in the local JFK headquarters.  I even had a scrapbook of clippings about Kennedy and his family. 

JFK Inaugural tickets

So.  My parents surprised me with these two parade tickets.  My mom and I took the overnight train and arrived
around dawn Inauguration morning.  We couldn’t get into the swearing-in itself, of course, so we went to a bar that served breakfast (at least that’s how I remember it) and watched the speech on their TV, then made our way along the snowy sidewalks to our seats, arriving in time to watch the new president and his wife roll by, to see his Honor Guard, the last time it would be comprised solely of white men (since Kennedy ordered their integration soon after,) in time to see the floats and the Cabinet members and the bands and the batons.

It was very cold.  We had no thermos, no blankets, nothing extra, and my mom, God bless her, never insisted that we go in for a break, never complained or made me feel anything but thrilled.  Which I was.   As the parade drew to a close, and the light faded, we stumbled down the bleachers, half-frozen, and walked the few blocks to the White House fence. I stood there, as close to the fence as I am now to my keyboard, and watched our new president enter the White House for the first time as Commander in Chief.

That was half a century ago.  I can’t say it feels like yesterday, but it remains a formidable and cherished memory.  It was also a defining lesson on how to be a parent; it took enormous love and respect to decide to do this for me.  I was such a kid – they could have treated my devotion like a rock star crush; so young, they could have decided I would “appreciate it more” next time.  (Of course there was no next time.)   Instead, they gave me what really was the lifetime gift of being a part of history.  And showed me that my political commitment had value – enough value to merit such an adventure.

Who’s to say if I would have ended up an activist (I did)- and then a journalist (I did) – without those memories.  If I would have continued to act within the system rather than try to destroy it. (I did)  If I would have been the mom who took kids to Europe, brought them along on news assignments to Inaugurations and royal weddings and green room visits with the Mets (Yup, I did.)  I had learned to honor the interests and dreams of my children the way my parents had honored my own.  So it’s hard for me to tell parents now to stay home. 

My good friend, the wise and gifted PunditMom, advises “those with little children” to skip it, and since strollers and backpacks are banned for security reasons, I’m sure she’s right.  But if you’ve got a dreamer in your house, a young adult who has become a true citizen because of this election, I’d try to come.  After all, he’s their guy.  What he does will touch their lives far more than it will ours.  Being part of this beginning may determine their willingness to accept the tough sacrifices he asks of them – at least that – and probably, also help to build their roles as citizens – as Americans – for the rest of their lives.  Oh — and will tell them that, despite curfews and learner’s permits, parental limit-setting and screaming battles, their parents see them as thinking, wise and effective people who will, as our new President promised them, help to change the world.