DVD Review: Outland

Some time ago, I read an article by a publisher of a sci-fi review magazine where he offered the following test to determine if a story qualifies as proper science fiction:

Can the story take a place on a bus rather than on a space ship without being fundamentally different?

Outland, an obscure movie starring Sean Connery at the low point of his career, cannot be set on a bus, but it most definitely did not need to be placed in space. It is, no pun intended, fully grounded in the traditional western genre in the theme, plot and pacing. There are even shotguns. Lots of shotguns. In a pressurized environment. All that's missing is the tumbleweeds. We do get treated to the sight of some gyrating balls of... something, but the less said of those the better.

The first part of Outland has all the promise of a Clint Eastwood flick. A stranger (Marshal O'Neil) comes to a small town (an mining space colony) administered by the corrupt (a skivvy manager and a group of "we-just-work-here" support personnel) for the wealthy (a corporate conglomerate). Then, after a brief flirting with a medical mystery, it pivots into an unabashed homage to High Noon and stays there to the extent that the viewer can predict nearly every beat. In fact there is a small twist towards the end that had me thinking, "Wait, that's not how it goes in High Noon!"As someone who believes that execution trumps originality every time, I don't offer this as a criticism but as a straightforward observation.

What is truly remarkable about the movie is just how much it is carried by the actors. Only two actors, to be precise. Sean Connery not so much steals every scene he's in as walks off with it unopposed. It was a treat for me as a fan to see him shine in a non-iconic role, making the most of a middling script and minimal character background.

Frances Sternhagen as Dr. Lazarus makes a respectable showing as a hard, cynical, plain-looking woman who does not get any softer or more attractive as the story goes on. What she does get, however, is a character arc and a few tense action scenes, which is just enough to make her memorable in an otherwise forgettable supporting cast.

The tale is not so much a battle of good vs evil, although there are clearly the good and the bad guys. O'Neil is not seeking to bring down the system (it's impossible) or even to save the colonists from what appears to be a mystery epidemic (they are not presented as particularly worth saving, much like the town denizens in High Noon). He, and to some degree Dr. Lazarus as well, want something more fundamental: the ability to look in the mirror and not turn away in disgust. In this case, it means doing the right thing and paying the price even if no one knows, and if it makes no difference to the harsh, uncaring, corrupt world in which they live.

In the image-obsessed modern world, where companies no longer advertise their social responsibility instead of products, and individuals measure their self-worth in the numbers of followers or likes, the idea of wanting to achieve SELF-respect might sound foreign. And that is the reason Outland, for all its flaws, is worth watching.

A Not-Quite Movie Review: The Meg

I fully intended to write a real review for this one. But then I thought: who am I kidding? What could I possibly tell you about the movie that you can't get from the trailer? If you pay attention, it gives out every major plot point, and more importantly, if tells you exactly what you'd be getting for the 10+ bucks should you decide to shell them out.

Thus, what follows below, is not so much the review as some thoughts, or more precisely, a sort-of open letter to those who might benefit from paying attention to what makes certain movies successful with the audience while most "serious" film critics scoff at their very existence.

To the collective brains behind Marvel, DC, and Star Wars:

This is how you write strong female characters who are interesting, brave, and superbly capable-- without coming across as Mary Sues, arrogant, or obnoxious.

This is how you, at the same time, write men who are admirable and unabashedly masculine, who respect the women and the choices they make, while never losing the protective attitude towards them. Not every man in the movie fits that description but enough do, to one extent or another.

This is how you write the dialogue that feels real even in the most implausible circumstances. (Marvel writers, to their credit, haven't lost that particular talent. The others, not so much).

This is how you take a corny piece of wisdom and make it work perfectly within the context of the movie, enhancing the big action scene instead of throwing a wet blanket over it. (Looking at you, The Last Jedi).

This is how you take a script where the viewers can predict most plot points, including who lives and dies, yet still have the theater goers holding their collective breath during the crucial moments.

The bottom line? The big secret? The reason why the first words out of my mouth after the credits rolled were "Forget superhero movies. This was better."?

  Forget the A-Listers (although the acting skills were adequate for the task). Forget the insane special effects (although the giant shark scenes and the underwater voyage into the uncharted depths of the ocean were well done). What you really need is good writing and respect for the audience.

Both are crucial.

Good writing without respect for the audience results in scripts that are too complex, too clever, too in love with the next plot twist and subverting expectations, too intent on Making a Point and Being Relevant, often neglecting the movie's main purpose: to entertain.

Respect for the audience without good writing gives us what's known as fan service, or pandering, or whatever term applies in a particular case. Checking off all the popular themes and whatever filled seats in the past doesn't necessarily work if there's no coherent plot and we don't care about the characters.

The Meg has a good balance. It appeals to the lovers of adrenaline-rush action, while providing enough human interaction and likable characters to make us invested. It switches effortlessly from camp to heartbreak and back to camp. It's not a great movie, but it's a good one. Let's make an effort, as consumers, to reward the good. If you want a couple of hours of pure fun that will leave you satisfied, go see this movie. The next Big Awesome Must See entry into one of the franchises will be here soon enough, but those are no longer the only game in town. And from where I'm sitting, it's not a bad thing.

Movie Review: The Last Jedi

First, some background:

1. My familiarity with the Star Wars Universe begins and ends with the movies. I have not read any of the books and so am entirely indifferent to any deviation from the beloved Extended Universe canon.
2. I disliked both the Prequels and The Force Awakens, the former for just being drek and the latter for the missed opportunities which in the end made it more disappointing.
3. I skipped Rogue One entirely because of the super-obnoxious pre-release behavior by those involved with the movie. I heard the movie itself was very good, and I might see it someday as a library rental.
4. I was reluctant to be disappointed again, and pay $20 plus food for the privilege, but decided to give the Star Wars series one last try. Part of me was hoping this would be the time to give up and move on with my life since quite frankly I'm burned out on the endless Hollywood reboots and sequels.

Unfortunately for my wallet, I will not be giving up on the series quite yet. In fact (excluding Rogue One, which I haven't seen and thus cannot judge) this is my favorite of the new crop of Star Wars movies.

The new entry had a long way to go, as far as I was concerned, to make up for the artistic brain fart that was TFA, and the list of accomplishments is rather impressive. Mind you, these are MY pet peeves from TFA that have been addressed. YMMV.

1. Finn in TFA existed only to a) provide stunt casting, by director's own admission and b) make Rey look even more of a Mary Sue than she already was. It's almost like the writers said "Let's have a black character because we must, but he can't be too interesting or accomplish much because Rey must be the hero at all times." In the sequel, he comes onto his own, stops being Rey's comic-relief sidekick, and fully, voluntarily, accepts his identity as "Rebel scum" rather than being pulled along by forces not of his choosing. The caper subplot gets a resounding Meh on the whole, but it's worth it for giving Finn a character arc and potentially a love interest who isn't Rey, which again goes with him becoming his own man.

2. Poe, much like Finn was not allowed any character development in TFA (and having since enjoyed Oscar Isaac's performance in The Promise, I became extra annoyed at the waste of talent the more I thought about it). Aside from setting in motion a couple of plot points, he really had no reason to be there. Again, in the sequel he gets a full character arc, growing from a brash "flyboy" to a mature leader. My only complaint is that the character as written (someone brave and skilled but hotheaded, with much to learn from his elders) was better suited for a younger actor.

3. Rey, who was a Mary Sue to end all Mary Sues, and an unlikable one at that, has become someone different. Still stubborn and occasionally obnoxious, but... vulnerable, willing to ask for help, open to making human connections (she may or may not be falling for Finn, but the fact that the possibility exists is refreshing). Also, the writers go at least through a nominal demonstration that yes, she actually is very good with the staff and it might explain her previously unbelievable skill with the light saber. A small thing, but something I appreciated. And, not to go all spoiler-y, but she does make a mistake, and a big one. Still a Mary Sue? Perhaps, but not in a dumb, in-your-face manner of the previous movie.

4. Kylo Ren is not longer a pathetic youngster to be dismissed. More on him later.

Now that I got TFA out of the way, what of the new developments? Let me cover the highlights so as not to give too many spoilers.

The biggest "shoot-me-now" moments for me were with the new CGI creatures. They're beyond silly and don't add anything to the story except some lame comic relief. I get the merchandising part, I really do, and none of this compares to the travesty that was Jar Jar, but it made and overly long move seem even longer.

The over-abundance of women leaders, while taken to ridiculous heights with the new commanding officer sporting pink hair and a long evening gown, was not, for ME, entirely out of place. In a Rebellion that is both long-running and constantly facing superior forces, it might stand to reason that it's mostly women who'd made it to an old age. Or at least that's the symbolism I'm seeing in this setup, perhaps not intended by the writers. In times of war, men run towards the enemy, and women carry on so the civilization, and hope, survives. Societies decimated by war can and do end up with a matriarchy of sorts. It so happens, I grew up in one of those, so it just might be my perspective.

And now, the most important question of all. Did Luke as a character get ruined?

No.

I can't say any more without spoilers, but while his fate is sad, the manner in which it's handled is neither overly depressing nor nihilistic. In a way, the character comes full circle, and it feels right.

Back to Kylo Ren.

He is, intentionally or not, a Millennial villain. Having gotten over the worship of his grandfather, he is intent on obliterating the past as a way to a better future. If this sounds disturbingly familiar, it's probably because you've been paying attention to real-life news over the last few years.

I have to admit to laughing inappropriately during a big scene (you'll know it when you see it) because at some point I looked at Kylo Ren and thought, "Now he will scream helplessly at the sky."

And he did.

And I giggled.

It broke the mood of a truly poignant scene, but I couldn't help it. This was one of those moments where art and real life met, and quite possibly I was the only one with that reaction. That's the thing about art. It has layers. I can't say, though, that this was my favorite scene.

That honor belongs to the very end of the movie, and this is why I think it's worth seeing.

There are forces at work, in our own time and place, who would do away with heroes and legends, who say we've outgrown the need, and the key to success and progress lies in leaving those behind or, better yet, destroying them altogether.

The closing scene responds to this attitude with a quiet but determined rebuke. And in that alone, it recaptures something the old Star Wars had and the series just might, belatedly, recapture again: a sense of wonder, hope, and the future that's worth fighting for.

Go see it, and make up your own mind.

Movie Review: Silenced

As regular readers might remember from my several posts on the culture war and censorship, I consider free speech one of the most important issues of our time. Aside from it being a basic human right enshrined  most prominently in our Bill of Rights, it is also a pragmatic necessity for our civilization's survival, for one simple reason.

You can't solve a problem you can't name.

And boy oh boy do we have a boatload of Problems-That-Cannot-Be-Named.

Oh, we're all aware they exist. We whisper of them amongst the like-minded, looking over our collective shoulders. We discuss them in closed Facebook groups and on Discord chats, forever fretting about spies and suspensions. But for the most part, we have all agreed that some things are just off-limits out in the open, at least if you want to keep whatever it is that's precious to you. For some, it's a job; for others, family harmony; for still others, long-term friendships. The reasons are valid, and sometimes even admirable, but the consequences of such decisions slowly accumulated over the last decade or more to bring us to one undeniable fact.

We are all Silenced.

And now, thanks to the efforts of Mike Cernovich, Loren Feldman and many dedicated supporters who'd provided the funds, we have a chance to explore the magnitude of the problem and possible solutions.

The documentary introduces a collection of speakers from different walks of life and of wildly varying respectability/fame/notoriety. They are clips rather than complete interviews, giving an overall effect of unfiltered, unedited expression, even though the choice and placement of different clips is anything but accidental. At first, the format is jarring as we jump from one person to the next with little time to digest the content. However, but at some point the pattern emerges, and we begin to see that each participant is telling an important part of the story, much as all the pieces of a kaleidoscope create a picture.

Allan Dershowitz gets a much-deserved top billing, in part because he is perhaps the most mainstream name in the group, but mostly because he's got all the best lines (sorry, Milo!). I wish some of those thoughts could be put on T-shirts and worn on college campuses, although part of me worries about the violence or at least expulsions and firings that might result.

Other contributors range from famous to unknown, sympathetic to "cross-the-street-to-avoid," highly intellectual to plain spoken. Some tell stories of having been censored or disemployed, while others simply explain their personal views on the importance free expression. More importantly, we see the cost of both soft and hard censorship, not just in political discussions and entertainment, but in areas that affect us on a daily basis (medical research is a particularly stark, yet unsurprising, example).

Different races, religions, sexual orientations and political ideologies are represented, not because someone in the back room was checking off diversity boxes but because freedom of speech is just that important. Some of the participants would likely not wish to be in the same building with each other, and yet here they all are, getting (virtually) together to speak up for the one thing on which they happen to agree.

Free speech is precious.

It is rare.

And we, who have been blessed with it, dare not lose it.

Let us be Silenced no more.

Silenced is available on Amazon (free with Prime).

Movie Musings: Escape from L.A.

I saw Escape From L.A. in the theater back when it came out and loved it. There's always a risk in revisiting a movie or a book after many years because our preferences change and, especially when it comes to movies, the special effects can feel dated, taking away from the enjoyment.

And then, of course there is the plot: originally written as a near-future dystopia, for me as a current viewer the story is set in the past. As someone who has written a near-future dystopian novel, I know full well how some predictions work out better than others.  (Chasing Freedom is set more than two decades from now, so I suppose there's still a chance for Canada to become the Land of the Free, but I would not bet good money on it.) On the other hand, John Ringo is known for complaining that his near and not-so-near future predictions come true too soon, making some of his work seem less "out there" futuristic.

In that latter respect, Escape From L.A. is very much a mixed bag. With an obligatory disclaimer that I will not wish mass death on my fellow citizens and human beings, I have to say the idea of an earthquake breaking off L.A. from the rest of the country and having it subsequently turn into a place to house those who don’t fit into the “polite society” made me chuckle more than a little. For those unaware, California secession movement is in fact a thing, and while those of the Right might gleefully egg them on, the brain trust behind the idea is very much on the Left.

L.A. in this film, however, is not a Marxist paradise, but a place of anarchy. Gangs roam the streets, shooting random pedestrians. Debauchery abounds. A Beverly Hills "clinic" provides organ transplants to those who've had too many plastic surgeries and need new organs to survive. A charismatic leader, who looks like a reincarnated Che, provides bloody spectacles for the masses in gladiator-style arenas. Then again, the surf is great and you can still wear a fur coat, so, YAY?

The "good" part of the U.S. is not exactly paradise, right wing or otherwise. Some of the points are laughable now (a woman exiled for "being a Muslim in South Dakota" was particularly funny, all things considered). It's important to remember, though, that the movie was made at the height of a bi-partisan drive to censor songs and video games and conservative Christians, being the most vocal, got stuck with the image of hating fun. The President is clearly supposed to represent a deranged TV Evangelist who has been allowed free hand in imposing his views on the rest of the country after the Constitution has been flushed down the toilet.

In a way, Escape From L.A. is a journey to the more innocent past when religious Christians were the worst of the boogeymen. In modern times, while there are still religious groups protesting metal concerts, the fun-hating mantle has been firmly taken over by the Left. 

The Left, and not the Christians, are the ones wishing to ban red meat, fur coats, and wrong-thinking art. 

The Left, and not the Christians, speak of earthquakes as punishment to humanity for wanting a better lifestyle that includes cars and air-conditioning. 

The Left, and not the Christians, openly speaks of overturning parts of the Constitution they find inconvenient. 

The Left, and not the Christians, wish miserable death on those with whom they disagree.

I can go on...

In the end, the movie gets a pass for getting the future (now in our past) so very wrong in so many ways, for two reasons.

One, the repeating theme of "The more things change, the more they stay the same." The rebels inside the L.A. walls want to take over the country and institute their version of Paradise, with a different set of horrors from those found in the mainland U.S. Neither flavor of authoritarianism portrayed in the movie can claim high moral ground. The current threats to freedom in real life come from the Left, but there is no telling where the pendulum will swing decades from now. Although human beings do have an yearning for freedom, the free society is a fragile, easily destroyed, and in need of constant vigilance to protect it.

Two, in spite of being ridiculously over the top in its portrayal of the two-sided dystopian society, the movie is still a lot of fun, with special effects that hold up well after all these years, and has one of my favorite endings of all time. It might be technically classified as message fiction, and I don't 100% care for all the details of the message, but unlike a lot of the current Hollywood offerings that purport to have "social relevance" this one never, not for one moment, forgets its primary mission: to entertain the audience. For that alone, I recommend it to anyone who prefers their action movies a bit on the thought-provoking side. It's also a suitable movie to watch and discuss with your teens with minimal eye-rolling in response. Enjoy! 





  

Movie Review: Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales

I have to admit, after the third movie in the series I decided I was done. The plot was overly complicated, the good guys kept double crossing each other, and the ending... Let's just say a movie of that caliber did not earn such and ending and leave it at that (and no, the after-credits were not enough to provide satisfaction for what was at the time meant to be the end of the trilogy.)

I skipped the fourth. More than that, I forgot it existed and had to look up why this latest installment was billed as Number Five. When the new trailer came out, my first thought was, "Oh no, they're at it AGAIN? Meh." Still, it was a long weekend and I decided to kill a few hours by watching it on the cheap in a smaller local theater. Yes, $11 for an adult ticket is what passes for cheap nowadays. But I digress...

My husband, who saw Dead Men a few days before me, said it was actually better than the original. I'm not sure about that because the original was, well, the original. The characters, the world, the visuals--it was all new and so by default more entertaining. But this one comes close and does better than the original on a couple of fronts. Also, and this is a biggie,  we're not talking about going back to the well. This movie continues the story where #3 left off. (I hear Penelope Cruz didn't want to come back. They didn't make the character die of leukemia a la  Sarah Connor, but the script behaves as though #4 never happened, as far as I can tell.)

In the first scene, we meet young Henry, Will Turner's son, who promises to break the curse that requires his father to be forever sailing The Flying Dutchman. Fast forward nine years, and grown up Henry is getting in trouble at sea over having too much knowledge of the legends no one believes until... well, I won't spoil that one. In the meantime, Carina, the scientist obsessed with the stars she believes will lead her to her father is about to hang for witchcraft. As for Jack Sparrow, let's just say the shameless ripoff of one of the Fast and Furious movies works very well as his re-introduction scene. The three main characters are thrown together, sometimes literally, until they agree to work with each other to obtain this particular movie's McGuffin.

It is rare to see the fifth entry into any franchise that succeeds both at taking us back and introducing new characters. Henry and Carina are immediately likable as driven, passionate individuals who make a lively, forever bantering couple. Jack Sparrow is entertaining as ever as a down-and-out captain without a ship, far removed from his former glory. (There is a marvelous flashback scene, thanks to the wonders of CGI, that made me wish for a prequel. I wanted to spend the time with THAT Jack Sparrow, one less interesting and flamboyant, but more admirable. If we do see a prequel, I'll know I'm not alone.) Barbossa is seen in a new light, and Salazar, the current villain, is sufficiently murderous yet has understandable motivations. The plot is clear of unnecessary complications, and the action has near perfect balance of CGI and live action. Except for a couple of scenes that look like a setup for a new Disney attraction (you'll know of what I speak when you see them) the movie does not have the look and feel of a video game. The camera work is solid, and there is no confusion, in spite of many scenes taking place in the dark, as to who is doing what where.

And then there are all the things that are not in the movie.

No Strong Female Character. I know, it's shocking to have a woman character who is physically capable, strong-willed, and a scientist to boot to not be the dreaded SFC. Writers of books and movie scripts alike seem to have forgotten that it's possible, and yet here we have Carina as a great reminder. She is smart and educated without knowing everything or being right every time. She is brave and athletic, yet sometimes needs saving from perils she can't handle on her own. She is driven and stubborn without being hostile, and while she doesn't "need" a man, she clearly enjoys being courted even as she refuses to admit it.

No anachronistic nods to modern Hollywood conventions. The romance is sweet, in tune with the rules of the movie's world. Carina blushes at the notion that she's attracted to Henry. Henry is happy at seeing Carina's ankles. Jack Sparrow, being more worldly, makes fun of the innocent lovers, but it's good natured fun, and whatever else Sparrow is meant to be, role model isn't it. There is physical contact, sure, but not the semi-obligatory casual hookup that we'd come to expect and/or fear from most Hollywood productions, whether or not said hookups make sense in the context of the story. Also, Carina's actions are consistent with the way a woman would act in the male-dominated world. When a shop owner tells her to leave and not touch his instruments because women are not allowed inside his shop, she reacts not with righteous indignation or physical assault, but with an offer to fix his maps and to pay him extra for the item she desires. It was a small scene, but I appreciated the care that went into crafting it to feel as true as possible right before the movie veers back into the over-the top action mode.

No on-the-nose references to politics. None. No purposeful controversies during the movie's promotion. No gratuitous jabs at Evil Politician of the Day. No inane quotes that end up marring the telephone poles for decades to come *cough* Star Wars Prequels *cough*. Not even a Very Special Screening for Group X (that one is not the movie's fault, but still highly annoying). All you get is a 2hrs + break from the world events, and it's engaging enough to keep you from checking your social media feed on the phone for the duration. There was a time most if not all blockbusters would provide this oasis of entertainment to the viewers. Now, sadly, it's so rare that it merits praise, and so praise it gets. I recommend it wholeheartedly. See it in the theater. Tell your friends. Let's make it an amazing success so Hollywood gives us more of what we want: good old-fashioned entertainment.

Movie Musings: The Fate of the Furious

***Cross-posted from SuperversiveSF.com***

On one level, The Fate of the Furious is the easiest movie to review:
1. Great fun

2. Leave your brain (especially the part that understands physics) at home

And now, folks, your seat belts (HA!) because I will try to make this post deep. How deep? Glad you asked. I’m going to take the recent discussion of what qualifies as superversive fiction and apply it to this movie. If you’re rolling on the floor in fits of laughter, I don’t blame you. But stick with me here. Just because something is lowbrow, doesn’t mean it can’t be superversive, at least in part. And if we can see superversive elements in this piece of schlock, maybe they would become easier to identify elsewhere. Thus, let the experiment begin!

Aspiring/Inspiring. Our heroes are far from being role models, that’s for sure. But are they reaching for something higher? Are they attempting to improve the world, what little of it is in their control? The opening segment includes a prolonged drag-racing sequence that ends with Dom Toretto acting with both generosity and honor towards a person who really deserves neither. Much later, when the villainess questions why Dom seemingly rewarded the man who tried to kill him, the response is, “I changed him.” Does it work like that in real life? Probably not. Thugs don’t choose to join the side of light because of one event, not commonly anyway. Is it possible? Yes, I suppose it is. Is it something we’d like to occasionally see in our art? Absolutely.

Virtuous. I can see how this requirement can be viewed as problematic at first glance, but we need to remember that superversive heroes don’t need to be perfect. They do, however, need to know right from wrong, and more importantly, the story itself must be clear on the matter. An advantage of a well crafted dumb action movie is that the central conflict is very clear. The good guys are… maybe not all that good, not all of them, but they are working for a good cause. And the villainess Cipher, played with obvious delight by Charlize Theron, is as cold and vicious as they come. Her purported justification sounds vaguely noble from throwing around words like “accountability,” but at no point are we sympathetic or thinking, “Well, she’s kind of right…” Nope. Not even close. In this story, shades of gray are non-existent.

Heroic. This one is easy. Unlike in some of the other entries in F&F franchise, the protagonists’ motives here are mostly pure: family, loyalty, honor and oh yeah, saving the world. There is revenge mixed in for some, and an opportunity for a second chance for others. In particular, Deckard (Jason Statham), a villain from one of the previous films, is at first hard to accept as one of the good guys, but he does redeem himself in one of the more spectacular and absurd scenes in a movie that’s full of them. In the end, they all rise to the occasion and do what they must to fight evil, no matter the cost. Additionally, in what to me is the stand-out moment of the movie, Letty bets her life, without hesitation, for a chance to reach and save her husband who appears to have gone rogue. It plays much better if you know the history of these characters, but it’s powerful in either case.

Decisive. Again, easy, as per requirements of the genre. The protagonists don’t have time to agonize over their choices, in part because there aren’t too many. Saving the world is a non-negotiable goal. While there are heart-breaking scenes, we see not a hint of the modern “why me?” angst that has infected even many of the superhero movies. They hurt and they grieve, but never stop moving towards the goal.

Non-subversive. You’d think a movie in a franchise built around essentially glorifying outlaws would be subversive by definition. Not so. This entry in particular has a villainess whose main intent is destruction of the current order, but there’s even more than that. In one of the obligatory Villain Exposition scenes, she’s intent on convincing Dom Toretto, the man who values family and faith, that he is wrong in his priorities. It’s not enough for her to use Dom’s skills. She has a need to destroy who he is, to prove that his life has no meaning, and by extension, no one’s life has meaning. This is an important point. If life is of no value, if family, faith and honor are but an illusion, then mass murder is a perfectly acceptable stepping stone to one’s goals. The villainess is a nearly perfect embodiment of subversion. She would not, in fact, be out of place in an old-fashioned fairly tale, from the time before our culture has developed a need to understand, justify, and sympathize with villains rather than to advocate and celebrate their unconditional defeat.

There were other things that are remarkable on that front. For all the banter and joking around, there’s not a hint of irony when it comes to good old fashioned values. Dom talk constantly about family as if it’s some kind of magic mantra needed to pull him back to the light. (One reviewer commented that at times the movie has a feel of a GOP convention, with the word “family” being mentioned over 50 times.) They pause before a meal to say grace. Crosses figure prominently, both in the visuals and once actually in the plot. Two young hot-blooded men are courting an attractive woman, but that’s where it stays. There is no obligatory danger-inspired hookup, but on the flip side, no blanket rejection of men or romance either. It’s a small scene, fun and light-hearted, but also old-fashioned. And in the end, for all the ridiculous special effects and action, I think this is one of the reasons the franchise has endured. These movies entertain and amuse without tearing down, and they leave you, if not inspired, at least satisfied with a simple tale that shows the world working mostly as you know it should. Not so bad for a piece of dumb action after all.

Netflix Review: Downfall

Downfall is a strangely compelling film. Not only do we know the ending, and the fate of all major characters, before we start, but we also have no heroes to root for, and the villains... well, we really couldn't hate them any more, could we?

And yet, unlike so many yawn-inducing historical dramas, this one holds our rapt attention throughout, and leaves us with much food for thought afterwards. Why is that? Are we still so fascinated with all things Hitler? Do we find satisfaction in seeing evil men and their immediate enablers get their due? Does the girl-next-door character of Traudl Junge provide enough of a different perspective to make us care--something impossible to do with the more important historical figures?

I suppose all of the above are true, but there's more depth to this particular version of the well-known story. The claustrophobic setup, both in the physical location and in the sense of immediate, inevitable doom, allows us to see all the players as we perhaps had not seen them before, at least outside of obscure historical documents.

The elephant in the room, of course, is the claim that Downfall humanizes Hitler. Some would even say he is shown as sympathetic. I admit there are moments where, having been accustomed to think of him as an abstraction, a stand-in for "monster," the viewer is surprised that he is, after all, just a man. He is kind to his employees. He clearly loves Eva. He personally makes sure his dog dies a quick death rather than starve in the ruins of Berlin or be shot by a passerby. It's almost tempting, especially considering his many temper tantrums, the best of which has been turned into a Youtube sensation, to attribute the horrors he inflicted on the world to insanity.

That, however, would be a lie. After all, the movie provides us enough moments of Hitler, perfectly relaxed and coherent, casually dismissing compassion as weakness; refusing to grant mercy to his former associates and German people alike; and counting the destruction of Jews as his crowning achievement. He might be delusional in some ways, particularly in his insistence during the first half of the movie that a military victory is still possible. But he isn't insane. If anything, while most of his underlings (and his lover, for that matter) spend their remaining time drinking themselves into oblivion, Hitler doesn't as much as break his dietary restrictions. His very last meal is vegetarian, and he makes a point to thank the cook after he is finished.

Nor is Hitler alone in this duality. Martha Goebbels is at once a proud mother and a cold-blooded killer. She also is sane, at least by legal definition, choosing loyalty to her lost cause over life itself. In perhaps the best demonstration of the power that evil ideals can have over seemingly normal human beings, she methodically poisons her children in their sleep. If the future is not the way she had envisioned, then it's not worth having. In her mind, it's as simple and logical as that.

Mind you, there are a few sympathetic characters sprinkled in: a father trying to convince his last remaining child to come home from the street fighting; doctors trying to save lives in the midst of carnage; even one of Hitler's close associates risking his life in coming back to Berlin in the last-ditch attempt to convince the boss to give up on the needless destruction. And then, of course, there is our nominal protagonist Traudl Junge, a young secretary who is so clueless of her surroundings that she takes the appearance of the Goebbels children in the bunker as a sign of hope rather than a harbinger of doom. The scene when she finally understands the truth is one of the more heartbreaking moments because we realize just how very innocent she is.

Except... as the older, wiser Traudl reminds us at the conclusion of the story, youth is no excuse, and it wasn't a case of true innocence, but willful ignorance. At the age of twenty-two, this smart, poised woman went to work for one of the most evil men in history and ended up providing a measure of comfort to him in his last days. As sins go, it's a minor one, but it's easy to understand why she spent her life feeling guilty for not choosing a different path.

I think in the end, Traudl is the character who discovers the lesson of the movie, and the reason it's so fascinating to watch. Fantastical creatures, cackling hags and monsters under the bed make for great fiction because storytellers are able to distill evil to its essence. But in real life it's very likely to appear only as a middle-aged man with funny hair who loves his dog and eats his spinach. As the last line of the movie reminds us, it's possible to find out the truth. All we can hope for in our own lives is to see the truth before it's too late.

Highly recommended.

Purchase Downfall on Amazon

Traudl Junge's memoir on Amazon

Do Strong Female Characters Make for Better Stories?

(I was really tempted to add "THE ANSWER WILL SHOCK YOU!" I resisted. You're welcome.)

There has been much discussion over the last few years (probably longer, but I might have been too busy reading to pay attention) about Strong Female Characters. Yes, people usually capitalize the first letters of each word when using this term because it’s So Very Important.

Part of the emphasis comes from troublemakers from both sides of the feminist/masculinist divide. There is a type of feminist who would never be satisfied until there are no male characters left in fiction except for killers and rapists; and there are certainly people on the other side who groan in disgust every time a trailer for female-fronted action flick pops up on the theater screen. The issue is in fact that divisive, and politically charged on top of that, even if most of us fall somewhere in the middle and want no part of the drama.

Scratch that last one. We most certainly do want drama. Storytelling drama. Excitement. Unpredictability. Surprise. And this is where some of the current trends fail us. It’s a shame, really. Movies have more and better technology than ever, and book publishing is less and less constrained by the gatekeepers. Yet whether in an effort to adhere to new societal norms or simply to pander to the perceived demands of the market, our stories are swapping new tropes for the old and still leave many of us longing for something more.

DVD Review: Olympus Has Fallen

With London Has Fallen, the new entry into the franchise, stirring up controversy with the easily offended, I decided to check out the original. I was told the movie is similar to Die Hard, which for me is possibly the highest praise an actioner can get, so it was Action Movie Night in the Fontaine household.

First, the short version.

Good news: the movie is indeed extremely similar to Dies Hard.
Bad news: except for possibly our hero, not one character in the move had seen Die Hard.
Bottom line: if you like dumb action movies, bring on the popcorn.

Still reading? OK, then.