February viewing journal

2/1 Blood Simple
2/2 The Merchant of Venice
2/4 Bad lieutenant
2/5 Paper Clips
2/5 The Last Wave
2/7 Ponette
2/14 Les Triplettes de Belleville
2/15 The Truman Show
2/16 Don Juan Dimarco
2/18 Hitch
2/21 Born Into Brothels favorite of month
2/23 7:35 in the Morning short
2/26 Nobody Knows
2/27 Gopher Broke short
2/27 Clockwatchers
2/28 La Grande Illusion

Manson's Memo 2/22

Rain, rain go away, come again some other day.

So far we’ve doubled our normal annual rainfall. There is a swamp today in the church’s front yard. The court yard is a lake. Not only are we getting a lot of rain, we’re getting it hard.

Now that the local TV stations have Doppler radar, it’s kind of fun to look and see just how hard it’s raining on us. Sometimes I go online to one of their websites and click on the current Doppler link to see what colors are showing. Blue and green are fairly light. Yellow is when it starts getting interesting. And when it gets to red, you know it’s bad.

I don’t know how we managed without that technology. It used to be we’d judge the rain by listening to it hitting the roof or looking out the window and seeing how hard it was falling. Now we can scientifically verify that it’s raining hard. Isn’t that better?

I wonder what it is about us that makes us want to have something that tells us what we already know. Does the radar make it any more true that the rain is falling than our own eyes? We can tell the difference between light mist and raining cats and dogs. Yet, there is that need to have something to tell us what we know.

Think of all the ways that God had told the world of God’s love for us. God spoke through prophets and poets and sages to tell us over and over that God loved the world. And yet, we always wanted something more. And so God sent Jesus to show us what we should have already known.

In Lent, we continue to look to the cross of Christ as the verification of God’s love. We look and we know the extent of God’s love for us. Sometimes it’s good to see something that we already know about.

Born Into Brothels

—Overview
—Spiritual Connections

"When I have a camera in my hands I feel happy. I feel like I am learning something...I can be someone."
-Suchitra (one of the children in Born Into Brothels)

Photojournalist Zana Briski wanted to capture in pictures the hard life of prostitutes in Calcutta. She lived with them to gain their trust. In the process, she met their children who were growing up with no hope of a better life. Indeed, the girls would most likely soon be “joining the line.” The boys would likely become pimps or addicts.

These are children that our phrase “at risk” doesn’t even come close to describing. Where could they go to escape? Schools and agencies weren’t interested because their mothers (and sometimes even grandmothers and great-grandmothers) were sex workers. Even to get a passport was nearly impossible. These were children that most people would prefer didn’t exist.

Born Into Brothels shows us not just the lives of these children, but the hope that came into their world through the work and passion of Zana Briski. Briski brought point-and-shoot cameras for a group of the children and gave them instruction in the art of photography. Many of the photographs these children took of the streets of Calcutta are truly works of art.

Of course cameras in themselves are not enough to bring hope or change into these children’s lives. Briski also spent a good deal of time trying to find schools that would take some of the children. Now there is Kids With Cameras, an organization that is seeking to build a school for the children of the sex workers in Calcutta, and is expanding its work to other areas as well. Because of the work started by giving these children cameras, there is hope that some of them may find a new life with far more fulfilling possibilities.

While the film does show us some of Briski’s dedication on behalf of the children, it really concentrates on the children themselves, their setting, and their growth as they begin to take pictures. Through their photography they begin to see themselves as something more than the human detritus that the world has treated them as. They become very capable photographers, capturing the world around them not like most of us do when we take our cameras on vacation, but showing the combination of beauty and pathos that makes up their lives.

Throughout the film we see many of the amazing photographs the children took. Eventually, some of the photos were auctioned at Sotheby’s. Amnesty International featured their photos in its 2003 calendar. The Kids With Cameras website has prints available for purchase as well as a companion book of the film. (Proceeds go to support the children’s education.)

A few (but sadly not all) of these children do indeed escape the squalor of their lives in the brothels. It is the success of those few that gives this film its sense of hope that lives can truly be changed by those, like Briski, who care enough for others to share of themselves. Her relationship with the children means far more than the cameras and classes she taught. She taught them to believe in themselves through her believing in them. By believing in themselves, they can begin to see the possibilities life can hold for them. Those possibilities are the essence of hope.

This film will slowly be making its way around the country in the spring of 2005. As the flowers begin to bloom in the world around us, this film can help hope bloom in our lives as we see the ways that lives touching others can bring beauty into even the darkest and dreariest settings.

—Overview
—Spiritual Connections

Ash Wednesday

I’ve been spending time with the book of Ecclesiastes lately. One of my Christmas presents was the book Useless Beauty: Ecclesiastes through the Lens of Contemporary Film by Robert K. Johnston. Bible, movies – perfect for me.

With Ash Wednesday upon us, Ecclesiastes seems a fitting place to spend the first day of Lent. Ecclesiastes is classified as Wisdom Literature within the Bible, which means it’s a bit philosophical. Its real concern is “what is the meaning of life?” At times it’s very cynical. Some of the comments are downright depressing. It is from Ecclesiastes that we get, “All go to one place; all are from the dust, all turn to dust again.” The writer of Ecclesiastes reminds readers several times that their deaths are certain. Everyone dies: rich or poor, wise or fool. In the end, there is no difference.

Ash Wednesday is a reminder of that as well. Sometimes we receive a smear of ashes on our foreheads to remind us that we are mortal. The Ash Wednesday liturgy may even allude to the words about dust in Ecclesiastes. On Ash Wednesday we begin the Lenten season by considering our death. At the other end of the Lenten season is Good Friday and Easter, where death is conquered and we celebrate the eternal life of Resurrection.

Too often we want to rush to the end – after all, it’s a happy ending. But the real meaning can only be appreciated by those who, like the author of Ecclesiastes, have looked death in the face to know it is real. It’s important to note that when the Easter story is read, we will find ourselves in a graveyard. Ash Wednesday is a reminder that you can’t get to Easter without going to that graveyard.

Review of Paper Clips

Whitwell, Tennessee, is a small, poor, rural town outside of Chattanooga. One resident says that there are probably lots of people in Chattanooga who don’t know Whitwell exists. The town is very homogeneous. There are neither any Jews nor Catholics who live there. In the town’s middle school, there are five African-American students and one Hispanic student. You wouldn’t really expect much of import to come from Whitwell – at least not something that would reach out and pull the world in to take a look at this town of 1,600.

Paper Clips shows us what happened in Whitwell when the school tried to find a way to teach diversity to the children of this community where everyone was alike. They offered a class on the Holocaust that would teach respect for people who are different. Little did they know that they had unleashed something that would grow so large as to include the world.

The film is not as polished as many documentaries. The filmmakers would probably profit from some mentoring in storytelling and editing. But in spite of the flaws, this film is an inspiring story that not only shows what a community can do, but tells of lives that are touched when people learn to share with one another.

About the second year of the Holocaust study, one of the students mentioned that they had no understanding of 6,000,000 (the estimate of the number of Jews killed in the Holocaust). They soon discovered that in Norway, people wore paper clips to remember their Jewish neighbors who were being persecuted. Soon the task became to collect 6,000,000 paper clips. (To keep this in perspective, keep in mind this would weigh about 11,000 pounds.)

They sent letters to many people, receiving paper clips from celebrities like Tom Bosley, former President Clinton, and President Bush, but still, 6,000,000 was far from easy. After the initial response died down, they estimated it would take 10 years to get to that number. But then the press picked up the story, both in the US and in Germany. Soon the paper clips began to pour in.

But more important that the paper clips were the letters and the people that became part of the project. Soon, the students, besides the paper clips had over 30,000 letters which told stories of family members lost in the Holocaust. A small group of Holocaust survivors came from New York to this little town to share their stories. A train car used for transporting people to the death camps was found and brought over to house the paper clips. The school became the custodian of a small Holocaust memorial, filling the train care with 11,000,000 paper clips to remember all the victims of the Holocaust.

As inspiring as this paper clip project is, what makes the film worth watching is to meet these people – the children, the teachers, the out-of-towners who came to share themselves. We see that the paper clip project was truly a catalyst that made things happen in these people. It also served as a catalyst to transform the sense of community in this small Appalachian town to include the whole world. The film serves as another step in bringing us all into this community to be touched by their work, their openness and their dedication.

It also allows us to see and hear some of the remaining survivors of the camps. We know was we watch the film, that the day is not far off when all the survivors will be gone and we will only have what records of them as have been gathered. Their stories need to be recorded and remembered.

The use of paper clips as a remembrance I found very interesting. Paper clips mean nothing to me. They have a use, but I feel no remorse for tossing one away. It was this same attitude that was applied to people in the Holocaust – not just Jews, but also “gypsies”, gays, Jehovah’s Witnesses and other groups. They were just something to be used and tossed away. But when we see these 11,000,000 paper clips, we know that each represented a man, a woman, or a child who is no more. Each clip was not something of no worth, but something beyond worth as a child of God.

This inspirational film deserves to be seen. It blesses those who see it, just as the students and teachers of Whitwell Middle School, the community of Whitwell, Tennessee, and the whole world has been blessed by the Paper Clip Project

Review of The Merchant of Venice

Portia: Then must the Jew be merciful.
Shylock: On what compulsion must I? tell me that.
Portia: The quality of mercy is not strain’d;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless’d;
It blesses him that gives and him that takes.
................

Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea consider this –
That in the course of justice none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doeth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy ....
Shylock: My deeds upon my head! I crave the law.

William Shakespeare’s play The Merchant of Venice is one of the more difficult to deal with because it is often alleged to have an anti-Semitic perspective. There are others who see it not so much as anti-Semitic as a reflection and exposé of the attitudes of the society of that day. Of course, we should note that in Shakespeare’s time Jews were generally not a welcomed part of society. They were discriminated against in a variety of ways. Whether the play is an example of anti-Semitism or a repudiation of it, I’ll leave to those who write dissertations on the subject. I suspect what is key is how a production is done. An anti-Semite could easily produce this play so it drips with hatred. So it is fair game to talk about how the current film by Michael Radford deals with the element.

First, we need to recognize that The Merchant of Venice is one of Shakespeare’s comedies. It has many elements in common with other of his comedic works, such as women dressing as men and not being recognized by their husbands. But this film is not done as a comedy; it is a drama – a deadly serious drama. Even given the different understanding of comedy in the 16^th Century, this film is a departure from the spirit of the original play. Shakespeare purists beware; you are liable to be very angry with the treatment.

However, I found the film and the treatment to be very effective. By treating it as drama, Radford has been able to emphasize the persecution of Shylock (and Jews in general) that has led to the dispute between Shylock and Antonio (the merchant of the title). Radford begins with a few scenes not in the play proper, but which serve as stage setting for the play. Along with some title cards telling about the ways Jews were treated in the 16^th Century, he shows them being persecuted and shows Shylock being spat upon by Antonio in the street. While this never actually happens in the play, Shylock does at one point refer to such an incident.

By steering away from the comedy aspects of the story, Radford also steers away from the chief ways anti-Semitism could be emphasized. For example, at the end of the court scene, when Shylock is humiliated, when done as comedy, the scene would be an example of ridicule. As it is, it serves not as ridicule, but actually draws us closer to Shylock and evokes our pity and sympathy for his plight. The film also emphasizes that Shylock is not different from the Christians who stand against him. He says, “If a Jew wrong a Christian; what is his humility? revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example?” why, revenge. The villany you teach me I will execute….”

By treating Shylock as a real man, not as a comic figure, this film treats him with respect. By respecting him, the film gives a mercy that the original play may not have given. The film avoids the easy road into anti-Semitism that the play provides. For that, I think this film version, even though it strays in tone from the original play, should be lauded.

The key issue in this film becomes not the possibility of anti-Semitism, but the relationship of justice and mercy. These represent two seemingly mutually exclusive concepts. How can one be both just and merciful at the same time? (And yet we affirm both in relationship to God.) Shylock demands justice. He demands that the letter of the law be carried out. To be sure, he does so because he wants revenge more than for respect for the law, but his points are all well taken. Without the rule of law in his case, the whole system of law and justice is undermined.

When the final twist comes, and Shylock must seek the mercy he withheld, we discover that the mercy the Christians show him is more severe than the judgment he sought. In this, the film reminds me a bit of Dogville. Like Dogville it makes us think about the ways that justice (and the revenge that is tied to it) and mercy (or law and grace) are interrelated. One cannot really be understood or appreciated without the other.

While this film may be a radical departure from the original approach to this play, it is certainly a valuable production of one of the great works of English theatre. It is valuable not just for the superb performances by Al Pacino and Jeremy Irons. It is valuable because it can lead us to see the dark sides of both our calls for law and order, and the ways we may show mercy that really is not mercy.

Love Song for Bobby Long

Purslane Hominy Will was her mother Lorraine’s golden child, so she was named after a yellow flower (a weed, actually) and corn. But this golden child has no memory of her mother, a New Orleans jazz singer junkie. When Pursy, an 18 year-old high school dropout, finds out her mother has died, she returns to New Orleans (from a life of watching TV in a trailer while eating peanut butter dipped in M&Ms) to find two men living in her mother’s ramshackle house. They spend the day being drunk while Lawson supposedly writes his novel and Bobby, a former English professor, supposedly mentors him. These two lie to her, telling her that Lorraine left the house to the three of them. In fact, she gave Bobby and Lawson a year to live there, but the house belongs to Pursy.

It seems like everyone in the neighborhood knew Lorraine. Everyone loved her. All of the men admit (with a mixture of embarrassment and pride) that they were “close” to Lorraine. But Pursy has no memories of her. She is rootless. She has come home to a home that is not hers. She finds family that is not hers. She keeps hearing history that isn’t hers. But slowly she begins to find that all these things become hers.

Love Song for Bobby Long wants to be a literary film. After all, it is about writing. So books play an important role. Bobby and Lawson play a game of “name that quote.” The three of them are constantly reading (and very good writers like Flannery O’Conner, F. Scott Fitzgerald, John Steinbeck, and Carson McCullers). In contrast to this, Lawson is writing very bad prose, which just ends up in the trash (or decorating the Christmas tree). While the film wants to be literary, it doesn’t trust its audience to be smart enough to get it, so in one scene, Lawson has to blurt out what’s going on in case the audience doesn’t understand.

The film does a wonderful job of using visuals, especially of the New Orleans neighborhood. But it is so rich in visuals that they become distracting. There are so many things that are so prominent in the framing of shots that we expect them to have some meaning in the story, but they don’t. I went back to see this film a second time to pay attention to some of these scenes, and still, there was nothing there.

I’m picking at this film because it does have significant value. It shows us a community of people who may seem to be lowlifes, but they are among themselves a caring community. It’s not just the proximity of the neighborhood that makes them community; it is almost as though the connection to Lorraine is what holds them all together. Since Pursy doesn’t have memories of her mother, she seems at times like an outsider. But because she is Lorraine’s daughter, she also has a place in the community.

The story shows us the power of community to transform lives. The coming together of Bobby, Lawson, and Pursy (and some side characters as well) creates something greater than the sum of the parts. These people bring about changes in one another that make them each a better person, but more importantly, that binds them to one another.

In spite of the shortcomings, which also include a fairly predictable story line, there is still much to cherish in this film. It is in some ways like the characters in the story. It has real flaws, but it also has the potential to bring new life.

Million Dollar Baby

—Overview
—Trailers, Photos
—About this Film pdf
—Spiritual Connections

“Always protect yourself.” That is the prime rule that Frankie Dunn teaches his fighters. He reinforces this rule over and over. It’s not bad advice for someone going into a boxing ring where another person will be trying to knock them unconscious. But as we watch Million Dollar Baby we see that in reality, Frankie’s number one rule is evidence of a lack of faith – in himself or in anyone else.

Because of the power that the plot twists of this film generate when they happen, I’m going to limit my comments to the role of faith in this film. To go through the twists and issues that are raised before someone sees the film would rob the movie of some force behind its punch (which is a strong right cross). I will say, though, that you should not go into this looking for a Rocky-esque triumph. There are dark turns in this story that help to make this one of the top films of the year.

Clint Eastwood films (the films he directs and many of the films he has starred in) often have strong spiritual messages that grow out of looking at the dark side of life. The grungy gym that is the location for most of this film is figurative of the seaminess of the boxing world. That one has the chance to make this world of sweat and struggle a path to redemption is a key element of this film. But it’s not easy to find that redemption.

Frankie has in effect been hiding in this gym for the last twenty-some years. He’s trained several boxers, some of whom have moved to the big time, but always without him. He keeps trying to protect them; he’s really obstructing them. Frankie always wants his fighters to get “two or three more fights” before they are ready to challenge for the title. It is only after they get a new manager that they get their chance. Frankie is afraid. He’s seen boxers get hurt. And as the film plays out we learn why he has such fears.

Frankie is a puzzle in terms of faith. Outwardly, he seems to be a person of faith. We see him kneeling beside the bed to pray, but it’s a pretty pathetic prayer. He goes to mass every morning, but afterwards tries to bait the priest into theological debates. He is struggling for something to believe in. That lack of faith is a key part of his worry. He wants his fighters to protect themselves, because deep down, he doesn’t believe anyone will protect them. He knows he’s incapable of protecting them. He doesn’t trust God to protect them.

Into his gym comes Maggie Fitzgerald, a young woman who wants to be a boxer and wants Frankie to train her. Despite his refusal, Maggie keeps coming, pounding on a heavy bag day after day. Her life has been hard. She sees this as her only way out. And she has utter faith in Frankie to make her into a boxer. She risks everything just to get Frankie to help her.

This contrast between Frankie’s fear and Maggie’s trust creates the framework for the film that allows us to look at the role faith and trust play in how we find the way to true life. For Maggie to fulfill her calling and make use of the ability she has cultivated under Frankie’s care, Frankie has to accept risk. Maggie has to be able to go against fighters who are better and younger than she. They have the potential to do great harm to her. Frankie has to begin to trust in Maggie’s ability.

There is yet another character that plays an important part in this film. Scrap-Iron Dupris, an ex-fighter who cleans up and helps around the gym, serves as a catalyst between Frankie and Maggie. In some ways, I see him as a representation of the Holy Spirit. It is Scrap’s voice that narrates the story. It is he who sees the potential in Maggie and knows the pain that lives within Frankie. By bringing them together, he seems to know that they have the potential to complete one another. Scrap is an ongoing presence watching over all that happens in the story and leading its characters to find their way to life.

While the story has a very dark turn, it is also a film that teaches us that there are great things that can be accomplished if we allow ourselves to trust and not live in fear. Sometimes “protecting oneself” can do us more harm than letting ourselves risk all while trusting in what we have.

—Overview
—Trailers, Photos
—About this Film pdf
—Spiritual Connections