Man on Fire

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Man On Fire is the latest in a series of “lone gunman (or swordwoman) gets justice” films released over the last several months. Last fall it was Mystic River and Kill Bill Vol. 1. This month alone has seen Kill Bill Vol. 2, The Punisher, Walking Tall, and now this. The difference between Man On Fire and most of the others listed is that it strives to be a character study in addition to an action piece. However, the central premise is the same: An injustice is committed, so the hero seeks revenge, which usually means several other people die. In the end, the hero either goes down fighting or walks off into the sunset, wounded perhaps, but content that justice has been served.

That pretty much sums up the plot of Man On Fire. In this case, the hero is John Creasy (Denzel Washington), a Jack Daniels-addicted former soldier of fortune who lands a job protecting a ten-year-old girl, Pita, in Mexico City. Just as her friendship starts to thaw out this hardened loner, Pita is abducted, and Creasy is nearly killed trying to save her. When he comes to a few days later, he learns the ransom payment went bad and Pita has been killed. That’s when the payback begins. As Creasy’s former comrade-in-arms Rayburn (Christopher Walken) says (without a hint of irony), “Every man is an artist… Creasy’s art is death. And he’s about to paint his masterpiece.” Whether Creasy survives the bloodbath or succumbs in the process is something I’ll leave for you to discover.

What makes this film work is Washington’s powerful portrayal of Creasy as a man who has pretty much given up on himself. Early in the film, he asks Rayburn if he thinks God will ever forgive them for what they’ve done. Rayburn responds with a rather matter-of-fact “no,” and then moves on to the next topic. Forgiveness doesn’t seem to matter much to Rayburn, but Creasy is another story. Staggering under the burden of his guilt, he drinks constantly, whether to kill the pain or to work up the courage to finally kill himself, we’re not sure. But it looks like pure agony, and we’re just rooting for him to find release.

Creasy seems to have a fairly good understanding of the Bible, enough to complete Romans 12:21 (“Do not be overcome by evil but overcome evil with good”) when Sister Ana, a nun at Pita’s school, quotes it to him. However, like many people today, Creasy knows only enough to realize he’s in trouble when his turn comes to stand before God. As he says to Sister Ana, “I’m one of the lost sheep.” Unfortunately, Creasy is either ignorant of God’s plan of forgiveness through Jesus Christ or he believes he doesn’t deserve it. Either way, he sees God as his enemy, not his friend. Have you ever felt like you’ve sinned beyond the point of forgiveness? Would you like to talk about it?

During Creasy’s brief interaction with Sister Ana, she also asks him if he’s ever seen the hand of God in his life. Creasy says, no. But shortly afterwards, his life is spared miraculously. Thus begins a conversion experience similar to that of Jules in Pulp Fiction. Perhaps there’s still hope for Creasy after all. God must have had a reason for sparing his life. Now it’s up to Creasy to find out why.

Pita’s mother also finds herself turning to God after her daughter is abducted. As she says to Creasy, “Go figure: Last week all I was worried about was which disco to go to. Now I’m reading the Bible.” This is a good example of how we tend to automatically reach out to a higher power during a crisis, whether we’re normally religious or not. Have you ever done this? Did it help?

A question many critics have raised about this film is why A-list actors and directors like Denzel Washington and Tony Scott are lending their considerable talents to what used to be considered B movie material. After all, in the 1970s and 1980s, it was Charles Bronson, Clint Eastwood or Sylvester Stallone playing roles like this, not Academy Award winning actors like Denzel Washington. There was a time, however, when Westerns attracted the best talents in the biz. And if you think about it, Man On Fire and similar films have all the same elements as the classic Western, which are themselves reinterpretations of still more ancient stories of justice and revenge. So I think it’s only natural for big names to be attracted to such archetypal stories.

A secondary question is why such “person gets revenge” films remain so popular. Could it have something to do with people’s growing sense of injustice in the world? Perhaps we all feel like it’s high time for a little payback. Or maybe we feel powerless as individuals to affect real change in an increasingly depersonalized society, so we enjoy rooting for people who do, even if they do so in ways we never would. I know I felt more than a little gratified when Creasy vowed to kill whoever was responsible for Pita’s death. And I don’t think I was the only one.

However, as I observed Creasy’s transformation from sensitive loner to hardened killer, I began to wonder what made him different from the people he was hunting. Sure, they had abducted and killed a defenseless little girl, which was reprehensible. But Creasy was systematically torturing and killing them in return. His actions may have seemed justified in light of what the others had done, but were they any less horrifying? It made me wonder how often we try to justify our own actions like this—both as individuals and as a nation. If our motives are right, does that mean we can use any means necessary to achieve our ends? And at what point do we cross the line from righteous avenger to ruthless tyrant? Are we even capable of making such a decision? What do you think?

LINKS
—Overview
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Home on the Range

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When I first saw the trailer for Home on the Range, I had high hopes for this film. It looked like a refreshingly retro style of animation combined with whip-smart modern humor and some heel-kicking songs to boot. What a great way to end 70 years of (mostly) first-rate, 2-D, animated films from the company that pioneered it all. Unfortunately, in this case, last is not best. In fact, when compared to early Disney films like Snow White or modern classics like The Lion King, Home On the Range barely approaches mediocre. Don’t get me wrong: This isn’t a bad film. It just fails to do what so many other Disney movies are remembered for: Create characters and a fantasy world that live on long after the movie is over. Too bad the 2-D team won’t get a second chance to make a last impression.

The problems begin with a storyline that has been recycled more times than cows have stomachs. It’s the old “save the farm” routine. In this case, Maggie, an abrasive, prize-winning show cow, arrives at “Patch of Heaven” farm just in time to discover the bank is going to foreclose unless the owner, Miss Pearl, can come up with $750. The bank is going broke, because so many local ranchers are losing their cattle to notorious cattle rustler Alameda Slim, so the bank is calling in all its loans. Having just lost her own ranch to Slim’s rustling, Maggie vows to catch Slim herself and use the bounty on his head to pay off Miss Pearl’s debt. Maggie’s plan doesn’t go over too well with Mrs. Calloway, the stuffy British cow who served as leader of Piece of Heaven’s menagerie of animals before Maggie showed up. But eventually Mrs. Calloway and a ditsy, New Age cow named Grace agree to join Maggie on her quest. From this point onward, the writing is pretty much on the wall. It’s a prototypical buddy movie/fish out of water tale where you just know the three bumbling cows are going to win out in the end. It’s just a matter of how and when.

As far as the characters go, Maggie (Roseanne Barr), Mrs. Calloway (Judi Dench) and Grace (Jennifer Tilly) are all voiced remarkably well, particularly Maggie. The problem is we’ve seen their type so many times before we can practically write their conversations ourselves. Maggie is the ne’er do right individualist who always bucks the trend. Mrs. Calloway is the “stiff upper lipped” traditionalist whose sole purpose in life is to keep cows like Maggie from getting out of line. And Grace is the peace-loving flower child who wishes “we could all just get along.” It’s obvious from the get-go that although Maggie and Mrs. Calloway don’t see eye-to-eye, they’ll come to love and appreciate each other by the end of their adventure.

The writers attempt to liven things up by throwing in some hyperactive minor characters, such as Buck the horse, who dreams of becoming an equine version of Bruce Lee; Lucky Jack, a jackrabbit who also claims to be a shaman (even though he never does offer any spiritual direction); and Jeb, a cranky, old goat with an affinity for tin cans. Less bombastic but decidedly more appealing are the bounty hunter Rico (a parody of Clint Eastwood’s “man with no name”), two sex-starved longhorn bulls, and Alameda Slim’s pet buffalo. However, with a storyline this predictable, you need a lot more laughs per minute than this crew generates to avert constant watch checking along the way.

As far as villains go, Alameda Slim is also pretty standard fare: a loud talking, buffalo-riding, cattle-rustling, land-grabbing crook. The Pied Piper of cattle thieves, Slim’s secret weapon is his yodeling, which hypnotizes the cattle so he can lead them off into the night with nary a moo. After stashing them away in his secret hideaway, he sells them off to his “fence” Wesley (a pint-sized version of the person who voices him, Steve Buscemi) and then goes back and buys the bankrupt ranches at a huge discount. His goal? Total ownership of the region as a way of getting back at the homesteaders who didn’t show enough appreciation for his yodeling abilities. Patch of Heaven is the last piece of land on his list, and he aims to get it or else.

One aspect of this film that doesn’t disappoint is the score and six songs composed by eight-time Academy Award winner Alan Menken. Best-known for his work on films like The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast, Menken proves once again why he is regarded as the master of this domain. His tunes are further enhanced by some of the best voices in country music, including K. D. Lang, Bonnie Raitt, and Tim McGraw. However, these finely crafted songs seem out of place in a story that, for the most part, is as two-dimensional as its animation.

That said; the animation is all that you’d expect from Disney and more. With bright pastel backgrounds and a remarkable sense of depth, you can tell the animators had a good time making this film. The look and feel is a splendidly modern interpretation of classic Saturday morning cartoons. The strange thing is, it seems as though the art director was inspired more by old Looney Tunes episodes than anything from the Disney archives. But the style definitely serves the film.

On a spiritual level, Home on the Range seems to be about appreciating those who are different from us. As the Apostle Paul said, we are all members of one body, each with a different function (Romans 12:4–8). This is difficult for us to accept sometimes. Like Maggie and Mrs. Caldwell, we’d often rather castigate than learn from one another. But as this film portrays, unless we learn to appreciate our differences and work as a team, our efforts are doomed to failure. Furthermore, Alameda Slim wouldn’t have become the criminal he was if others had shown appreciation for his rather unique talent instead of ostracizing him because of it. How many times have we heard this same story in the headlines, often with chilling results?

It’s also interesting to note that the same thing motivates both the heroes and the antagonist in this film: revenge. I guess we humans aren’t so different from animals after all, at least from the filmmakers’ point of view. Perhaps the one exception is Grace, who strives to be the peacemaker in her own spacey way. Nevertheless, the subtle message of this film is that revenge is okay as long as it is carried out with the right motives. If you bring children to this film, you would do well to remind them that love is the proper response to aggression, not more aggression.

As Christ said, just turn the other cheek—or jowl—as it were.

LINKS
—Review
—Trailers, Photos
—About this Film
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The Alamo

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


In making The Alamo, director John Lee Hancock faced a task similar to James Cameron when he made The Titanic. Both films are based on historical events where the outcome is certain. Thus, the challenge is not so much to surprise viewers as to depict characters and events as dramatically and as realistically as possible so when the end does come, we feel as if we’ve lived the adventure ourselves.

So how does Hancock score? Pretty well on some counts, not so good on others. This film gets high marks for costumes, sets, props, and battle sequences. If The Alamo were a painting, it would fall into the category of photo-realism. And it would earn top dollar.

Hancock wins bonus points for presenting a fairly balanced depiction of the conflict. Instead of painting the “Texians” as heroes and the Mexicans as bad guys, he makes it clear that each side had only its self-interest in mind, and both were willing to kill for it. What made the Texians different was that they were fighting for liberty—even though their gaining liberty meant depriving others of the same. Then again, I guess you could say the same thing about the Mexicans…

On a character level, the Mexican General Santa Anna definitely comes off as the villain here. But, this being an attempt at revisionist history, he isn’t the only one with his warts on display. When we first meet Colonel William Travis, the young officer charged with defense of the Alamo, he’s signing the papers that will allow him to abandon his pregnant wife and two children. The reason? He’d rather have a few days of glory in Texas than a lifetime without a “name.” It’s hard to believe we’ll care when this guy bites it. But we do, if only because of how much his death will devastate his son.



It’s a little more difficult to care about James Bowie, famed knife-fighter. That’s no slam against Jason Patric who portrays him. It’s just that after resolving a leadership dispute with Travis, Bowie basically retires to his deathbed for the remainder of the film. In addition to tuberculosis, I got the sense Bowie’s character also fell victim to the slash and burn editing process this film was forced to undergo between its original release date of December 2003 and today.

Our greatest sympathies go to Davy Crockett, played with a delicate mixture of bravado and introspection by Billy Bob Thornton. Crockett arrived at the Alamo not even realizing a war was going on. He just wanted the 640 free acres of land promised to anyone who signed up for the Texas militia. The burden of Crockett’s celebrity also weighs heavily upon him. Not only does this make it impossible for Crockett to flee when the opportunity arises (What would people think?), his presence inspires the other men to glorify the position they find themselves in. But Crockett knows all they have to look forward to is killing and death. Glory may come, but they won’t be around to experience it. He tries to tell them the truth, but the men merely clamor for the fictional version of his life.

Despite these engaging character studies, this film ultimately fails from a structural point of view. By presenting the fall of the Alamo as one long flashback book-ended by General Sam Houston’s response, the pacing just doesn’t work. It’s anti-climactic, slow to get going, and far longer than it needs to be. One gets the sense that the footage was there, but things never really came together in the editing room. Perhaps they spent too much time working on it.

As one might expect in a story that takes place in a Spanish Catholic mission, the cross is an ever-present icon in this film. We first encounter it at night when Bowie leads a small scouting party through a graveyard of crooked wooden crosses just outside the Alamo. Later, a crucifix hangs over Bowie’s deathbed as a Mexican folk healer makes the sign of the cross over him with an egg and then cracks it into a glass of water. A cross-shaped window also lights Bowie’s room. From time to time, we even view the action outside through this glowing symbol. But never once does Bowie acknowledge it or his need for a savior. Though barely conscious, his attention remains fixed solely on protecting his self-interest, to the point where his last act is to kill those who would deprive him of his final hours of life.

Perhaps that’s the problem with everyone in this film, “Texians” and Mexicans alike: They’re all looking out for number one. The Texas Rebellion, of which the battle for the Alamo was but a part, was led by Americans who had recently broken away from the British Empire. Now they wanted to gain independence from Mexico, which had recently won independence from Spain. But there was no way Mexico’s Santa Anna was about to extend the same freedoms his own people had just obtained. For, in a moment of prescience, he states, “If we lose this war, we will forever be begging crumbs from the Americans’ table.” Seems he understood the stakes perfectly well. The question is: Where does the battle for independence end? And at what point does the number of lives lost negate the freedoms gained?



There’s no question the defenders of the Alamo were in a dire situation. But as the cross kept reappearing in this film, I couldn’t get over the fact that the solution to this conflict was right in front of them, and yet no one was able to see it. They came close though. During what is perhaps the film’s most poignant scene, Crockett plays his fiddle to accompany a song the Mexican army plays every night before shelling the Alamo. The Mexicans are so touched by the gesture they forego the attack for that night. “It’s amazing what a little harmony can do,” Crockett remarks afterwards. Indeed. For a moment, both sides seem to discover the common bond of humanity that unites them. They may be at war, but they are all fighting for the same basic principles: freedom, dignity, and the chance to create a better life for their families. Perhaps if they had looked to the cross—to Christ—they would have realized this, set aside their arms, and worked out a more creative solution to their conflict. In a world where violence only begets more violence—both at home and overseas—it would behoove us all to do the same.

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