movie – Don't Gel Too Soon

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)

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.

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.

SPIES, LIES AND THE MOVIES

In our usual Christmas Day tradition, we went to a movie today. We chose The Good Shepherd — a sort of biopic of the CIA through the eyes of one Skull and Bones Yalie in the 30s who rose to head counter-intelligence there. Played by Matt Damon, he was a great character but the film itself was troubling. There are plenty of beefs with the plot and the bare, stereotypical portrayal of the women but most interesting to me was its ambiguity.

Throughout the film, it’s clear that much of what’s happening is horribly distasteful and ugly. Yet it’s equally clear that much of it has to be done, and that the people doing it are not ALL odious creatures. Instead, we’re able to think seriously about these people and what it is that has shaped their lives.

As one ugly incident after another arose, all I could think about was a courtroom scene in A Few Good Men when Tom Cruise’s character Lt. Daniel Kaffee questions Jack Nicholson’s memorable Col. Nathan R. Jessep
Col. Jessep: You want answers?
Kaffee: I think I’m entitled.
Col. Jessep: You want answers?
Kaffee: I want the truth.
Col. Jessep: You can’t handle the truth.
Son, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Whose gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Weinburg? I have a greater responsibility than you could possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago, and you curse the marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know. That Santiago’s death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. You don’t want the truth because deep down in places you don’t talk about at parties, you want me on that wall, you need me on that wall. We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom that I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would rather you just said thank you, and went on your way, Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon, and stand a post. Either way, I don’t give a damn what you think you are entitled to.

In other words, lots of ugly things are done in our names. Sometimes, like in Abu Ghraib, they’re wrong. Sometimes, like some of the events in this film, they’re necessary — and as Col. Jessep reminds us — most of us don’t want to talk about them at parties –OR to know about them at all.
As angry as we get – and as ashamed as current government activities may make us – this film has evoked in me a renewed awareness of those complicated moral issues that emerge along with complicated events. For that alone, it’s a movie I’d recommend.

AUDREY HEPBURN AT THE GAP

OK. I have six deadlines in the next week and I shouldn’t be writing this but I’m struggling with my loyalties here. I have loved Audrey Hepburn since I was a kid. As only a short, kind of rounded young woman can look up to a sleek icon with a heart. AND I love the Internet. And technology. And sampling. And now, I don’t know what to think.

The Gap has taken a scene from Funny Face, when Audrey Hepburn, the young existential book store clerk turned model, on her first trip to Paris, runs off to a smoky coffee house where her philosopher hero (of course he’s a fake and a bit of a cad) hangs out – and decides to dance. The Gap has taken this essentially sweet scene and sampled it, mashed it up, stuck it into hip hop and multiple-image edits and generally made a cute little commercial about black pants. It isn’t disrespectful to her – just jazzed up. And it isn’t in bad taste. Or anything. It’s even clever. It’s also the first time I’ve been this ambivalent about altered images. I hate colorized movies. I love sampling in music. I’ve heard Larry Lessig speak and think he’s right about a lot of his Remix theories. But this one seems to bring out all of the above. Here’s the link – what do you think?