The Manchurian Candidate

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Could there be a more appropriate time for a film like this? Released one month after Fahrenheit 9/11 with conspiracy theories about George W. Bush—“the Arabian candidate,� as he has been called—running at an all-time high, The Manchurian Candidate is a masterpiece of cinematic timing. Thankfully, it is also a great movie. Based on the 1962 classic starring Frank Sinatra, this remake retains all of the suspense of the original but updates the context so that it has that ring of truth that makes you believe something like this really could happen—almost.

It all begins with Captain Bennett Marco, a Gulf War vet who cannot seem to leave the war behind. Diagnosed with “Gulf War syndrome� and “post-traumatic stress disorder,� Marco has been relegated to giving speeches to Boy Scout troops about the Congressional Medal of Honor. At the same time, he is plagued by a recurring dream full of horrific images. When he meets up with an old war buddy who is suffering from exactly the same affliction, Marco begins to suspect that maybe he is not crazy. Perhaps the dream is reality, and what he has always been led to believe about his tour of duty in Kuwait is nothing more than a fabrication, a memory implanted in his mind by an unknown entity for unknown reasons.

When the body of Marco’s war buddy turns up in the river, he is even more certain a conspiracy is underfoot. Desperate for answers, Marco seeks out the only other surviving member of his platoon: Raymond Prentiss Shaw, who was decorated with the Congressional Medal of Honor for saving Marco and his platoon when they were ambushed in Kuwait. Shaw is currently on a fast track to the White House, thanks to his pit bull mother, and is not interested in Marco or his theories at first. But when Shaw begins to have nightmares as well, he realizes Marco may be on to something.

Meanwhile, Marco has discovered some nefarious connections between what he “remembers� about the brainwashing experience in the Gulf and one of Shaw’s largest campaign sponsors: Manchurian Global. He comes to believe that Manchurian has somehow preprogrammed Shaw to be a “sleeper� in the White House, a pawn that they can activate at will. Marco has no idea what Manchurian is up to, but he is not about to wait around and find out. However, just as Marco is about to make his move, another dimension of Manchurian’s conspiracy is revealed, placing Marco and his plans in jeopardy.

I will not reveal anything further about the film save this: Hollywood has been pumping out some smart thrillers lately, and The Manchurian Candidate is one of them. While the premise of this film is more fun than feasible, the idea that big business wields tremendous clout in Washington is far too real to ignore. Power and money go hand-in-hand—you can’t have one without the other. And this film paints a grim picture of what happens when money and blind ambition get in the way of the common good—or, worse, what happens when people in power begin to believe that their money and their ambition are the common good. Rather than encourage conspiracy theories of this ilk, however, The Manchurian Candidate is more like a classic, sci-fi cautionary tale, a parable rather than a docudrama. In this sense, I think it does far more than Fahrenheit 9/11—a purportedly non-fiction film—will ever do to raise awareness about what is really going on in the world.

Then again, perhaps I am just not paranoid enough…

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The Village

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Writer, producer, director M. Night Shyamalan is known for two things: high concept premises and surprise, twist endings. After his breakthrough hit The Sixth Sense, Shyamalan has used this same approach to make Unbreakable, Signs, and now The Village. Unfortunately, while Shyamalan appeared to be a fresh new voice when he first broke onto the scene, each successive film is making him look more and more like a one-trick pony, at least from a writing point of view.

To be fair, following up a film like The Sixth Sense is no easy task. Perhaps Shyamalan would have been wiser to go in an entirely different direction rather than attempt to top what many believe to be the best thriller of all time. However, Shyamalan seems determined to prove that The Sixth Sense was not a fluke but the beginning of a long line of modern-day “Hitchcockian� classics. Thus, we come to The Village.

The Village differs from Shyamalan’s previous films in that it is a period piece. It appears to be set at the turn of the century in a small community called Covington that is surrounded by a mysterious forest. The rules of the village are simple: The people of Covington stay out of the woods and avoid using the “bad color� (red), and the creatures that purportedly inhabit the woods refrain from killing and eating the villagers. If ever an uneasy truce had been forged, this one is it.

With such rigid rules in place, it is only a matter of time before villagers begin testing them and, eventually, breaking them outright. While the young boys of the village are content to play a game at night where they stand on a stump with their back to the edge of the forest until their nerves can’t take it anymore, one young man—Lucius Hunt—has had enough of games. He approaches the elders of the village and requests permission to cross through the woods to “the towns,� where he hopes to obtain medicine to prevent tragedies like the funeral scene that opens the film. Lucius feels the creatures in the forest will let him pass, because he believes they will know his intentions are pure. But the elders refuse to honor Lucius’ requests. Never mind the creatures, they seem even more afraid of the towns and what will happen to anyone who goes there. Years ago, the elders left the wickedness and corruption of the towns, vowing never to return. They established Covington as a place to rebuild the innocence they had lost, to create a better life for them and their children. In that sense, the creatures are more of a blessing than a curse, serving to reinforce Covington’s boundaries in a way the elders never could.

Frustrated with the elders’ reticence, Lucius takes things into his own hands one day and crosses the boundary of the village into the forest, where he plucks some forbidden red berries from a bush. Unfortunately, his actions do not go unnoticed by “the things that we do not speak of.� That night, Covington goes into panic mode when a sentry spots one of the creatures slinking out of the trees and into the village. The next morning, the villagers emerge from their fortified homes to find red slashes painted across every door. A warning has been issued. The villagers had better heed it or die.

Lest you think I have spoiled the story for you, nearly all of what I have written so far is presented in the trailer to this film. This is all still set-up, and a good one at that. At this point, The Village just bristles with questions: What is the nature of these creatures? How did the people of Covington ever make it to their present location? What is the significance of the color red? What are the towns really like? Will Lucius make a break for the towns? What will happen to him if he does?

I will leave you to discover the answers to these questions yourself. As for me, knowing what I do of Shyamalan, I guessed the “surprise� ending about a third of the way into the film, and I think I had suspicions even before that. That is not to say I am inordinately clever, just that there were only so many ways this film could go, and the path Shyamalan chose seemed the most likely option. If anyone else had made this film, I doubt I would have been so quick to guess the ending. Likely, I would have been so drawn into the story that I would have been rewarded with that delightful “Aha!� moment that I had when the premise of The Sixth Sense was finally revealed. Thus, my disappointment at the way Shyamalan chose to resolve this film is not so much a comment on the structure of the story itself, which is reasonably sound, but that it was just so “Shyamalanian.� Perhaps he would have more success at surprising us these days if he began writing films under an assumed name. That way we would not see him coming.

Apart from “predictable unpredictability,� something else Shyamalan is known for is inserting not-so-subtle spiritual messages into his films, and The Village is no exception. What we have here is a group of people, who have withdrawn from the wider culture to establish their own ideal society, the boundaries of which are reinforced by fear. Sound familiar? It should. Covington looks and feels very much like an Amish, Mennonite or Hutterite community—if you don’t count the bloodthirsty monsters prowling the borders, that is. The renunciation process required to join the community demands that each elder retain a small box of mementos from their past life to remind them of their sins, “lest they be reborn in another form.� But sins were never meant to be boxed up. And once the corruption and death that haunted them in the towns begins to creep into their village, the elders of Covington come to realize that sin is not in the towns, it is in them. Running away from their past or trying to stuff it in a box will not solve anything. Sin thrives in fear and secrecy. Thus, the only way to overcome sin is to bring it out into the open, confess it, and then embrace the freedom that follows.

Despite a golden opportunity to do just that; the elders choose to maintain the façade of their existence instead. While they realize doing so may prevent them and their children from embracing life to the fullest, better that than having to return to the towns and attempt to be salt and light in a society that repudiates all they hold dear.

It was difficult to watch the elders make such a decision. But as I did, I could not help but think of how many times we Christians have done exactly the same thing. Rather than work to transform society from the inside, as we have been called, we have withdrawn from it into segregated communities dominated by fear and control. Like the elders, we have chosen a lesser existence rather than risk being polluted or rejected by the world. However, also like the elders, we must realize that sin is not “out there.� It is right here, in us. Only when we are able to face that fact and bring our secrets into the light will we truly become the people God has called us to be.

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The Bourne Supremacy

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The Bourne Supremacy takes place about two years after its equally brilliant predecessor, The Bourne Identity. But things have not changed much for Jason Bourne. While the film opens with him enjoying a time of relative peace with his girlfriend in Goa, India, Bourne is still plagued by his past. He knows he was part of Treadstone, a CIA “black ops� project designed to create super assassins. But he has no recollection of who he was before Treadstone, and he is haunted by nightmares about an assassination he may or may not have committed.

Unfortunately, rarely are action heroes like Bourne allowed much time for introspection. As in the first film, it is not long before the question shifts from “Who am I?� to “Why are these people trying to kill me?� Proving he can globetrot with the best of them, Bourne leaps from Goa to Italy to Berlin and finally to Moscow as he attempts to get the people who created him off his back once and for all. Meanwhile, a few Treadstone alumni seek to ensure the world never hears from Jason Bourne again.

The Bourne Supremacy could be just another thriller, along the lines of a James Bond or a Jack Ryan flick. What allows this film—and the franchise—to transcend its genre is that it dares to give its lead character a third dimension. Bourne may have been programmed to be a heartless killer, but even the best programming cannot suppress his conscience. Since getting amnesia, he has been “Bourne again,� and it becomes clear that the search for his identity is not so much about self-illumination as it is about atoning for sins he can’t even remember committing. In the end, Bourne does not exactly find peace or his identity, but he does manage to reclaim a portion of his soul, and that will have to do until the next film…

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Fahrenheit 9/11

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I arrived at the theatre at 7:22 p.m. Fahrenheit 9/11 was scheduled to start at 7:30. The film was showing on two screens that night, one of which, I discovered, was already sold out. When I got inside, I realized I should have come earlier. Way earlier. The place was packed. It was all I could do to find a seat.

During the previews, I looked around the theatre and marveled at the crowd. This was a Saturday night, in Canada. By all accounts, we should have been out drinking beer and participating in some sort of hockey-related event. But we were all here to watch a documentary. About the United States, no less. On a Saturday night. Perhaps what Michael Moore said during his Oscar acceptance speech for Bowling for Columbine was true, I thought. Perhaps we really do prefer non-fiction to fiction. The question remained, however: In which category did this film fall?

That question was answered for me over the next two hours as I watched what could best be described as an exercise in fear mongering of the worst kind. Even though this film won the Palme d’Or in Cannes, I have to say that, as a documentary, Fahrenheit 9/11 is not particularly good. As a purportedly non-fiction film, it scores even worse. And as entertainment? Let’s just say it’s no Bowling for Columbine.

Without going into too much tiresome detail, and at the risk of piling up a small mountain of adjectives, my summary of Fahrenheit 9/11 goes something like this: unfocused, snide, contradictory, paranoid, emotionally manipulative, exploitive, and, at some points, outright delusional. By now, we all expect a certain amount of chutzpah from Moore. That’s what I love about him. He never fails to see the humorous side of the serious issues he explores. He’s a master at mixing information with entertainment, and he isn’t afraid to go out on a limb to stir up controversy and discussion. But this time, I fear the limb may have snapped. Rather than tackle a serious issue in a semi-serious way, as he did with Bowling for Columbine and Roger and Me, Moore attempts to place George W. Bush at the center of the biggest boondoggle of all time. For two painstaking hours, Moore does his best to convince us that Bush is some kind of Manchurian Candidate planted in the White House to serve the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. And Moore has all the funny looks and scary music to prove it!

While I am not a big fan of George Bush’s administration or the war in Iraq, Moore lays things on a little too thick in Fahrenheit 9/11, even for an avowed fan like me. For example, at one point Moore asks us to believe that “Big Tobacco� pressured the Department of Homeland Security to allow matches and cigarette lighters onboard commercial flights so that smokers could light up immediately upon landing, even though such items could be used to ignite bombs like the one convicted terrorist Richard Reid hid in his shoes. Or how about this: After outlining the admittedly extensive connections between the Bushes, the Bin Ladens, and the Saudi royal family, Moore asks something along the lines of: “If someone is paying you $400,000 per year to lead their country but, over the years, the Saudis have paid your family $1.4 billion, when you wake up in the morning, who are you going to worry most about pleasing: The Saudis or the American people?� Moore’s premise here is that the only thing that motivates George W. Bush is money. However, as I listened to Moore draw this conclusion, I began to wonder who was more concerned about making money off the Saudi-Bush connection: George W. or Michael M.? As with any blame game, it isn’t long before the finger you are pointing at others turns around and starts pointing back at you.

Refreshingly, Fahrenheit 9/11 does include a couple of Moore’s trademark publicity stunts, such as when he rides around the Capitol building in an ice cream truck while reading the Patriot Act over a loudspeaker or when he approaches congressmen on the street and asks them to enlist their children to serve in Iraq. Once again, if Moore had resorted to more of these antics instead of using a conspiracy theory approach, the opinions he expresses in this film would have been much easier to swallow, because it would be obvious that he considers them just that: opinions. Instead, he presents his opinions as facts, and he expects us to embrace them as such. I’m sorry, but in this age of 24-hour news and the Internet; such obvious propagandizing just doesn’t cut it.

That’s not to say Fahrenheit 9/11 does not have its moments. The footage of young American soldiers talking about the type of music they like to listen to as they blow up Iraqi neighborhoods with their tanks is one of the most chilling things I have ever seen. War as a video game come to life. Thankfully, Moore balanced these interviews with the accounts of soldiers for whom killing had become a face-to-face affair. Their disturbing version of the conflict led me to believe that the pimple-faced push-button killers in the tanks had yet to encounter the victims of their carnage firsthand. Taken together, their testimonies, as well as Moore’s coverage of grieving mothers on both sides of the conflict, present a grim picture of modern war and its effect on us—equal parts desensitization and soul-rending tragedy. If Moore had only stuck with something along these lines, I think this film really would have amounted to something.

Recently, I expressed my doubts that Fahrenheit 9/11 would change anyone’s mind about George Bush or Michael Moore. Having been pre-conditioned by the media to hate one or the other, I proposed that viewing the film would only solidify people’s preconceptions, because most would go into the theatre looking to confirm their particular point of view rather than challenge it. However, in my case at least, viewing the film had exactly the opposite effect. I went in a Michael Moore fan. And while I didn’t emerge as a convert to the George W. gospel, I definitely lost a lot of respect for Moore and his ability to play fair with the facts. I also have serious doubts about his preference for non-fiction over fiction. His film may feature real people and real events, but you don’t have to dig too deep to realize the yarn he attempts to weave out of this mish-mash of footage and fallacies is anything but the truth.

At the same time, I cannot dispute that Moore has tapped into at least one fundamental truth: People are outraged with a political system that strives to keep them ignorant and powerless. They are tired of an administration that withholds information from the very people who elected it, one that uses fear to manipulate them into sanctioning its agenda, for good or for evil. People want the truth; they demand it. Sadly, however, truth appears to be in short supply these days. We live in an age of inquiries and commissions, conspiracies and suspicion. As an auto mechanic featured in this film says, “You should never trust anyone you don’t know. In fact, you probably shouldn’t even trust the people you do know.�

Many people hoped to find the truth in Fahrenheit 9/11. An astounding number, actually. Even though the film opened on less than a quarter of the screens of its closest rival, it still topped the weekend box office. Unfortunately, while people may believe they have found the truth in Fahrenheit 9/11—people actually applauded the film where I viewed it—I fear they may have unwittingly bought into the very thing Moore’s film purportedly condemns: Fear packaged as truth in order to sway them in a particular direction. This time, however, they weren’t taught to fear Osama Bin Laden, Saddam Hussein, or a host of nameless, faceless Middle Eastern terrorists. They were taught to fear George Bush, the American government, their neighbors—even themselves. Jesus said, “the truth will set you free.� In this case, however, Moore’s “truth� doesn’t offer freedom. All it provides is a different type of bondage.

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Around the World in 80 Days (2004)

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Is it worth risking everything for your beliefs? That’s the question eccentric inventor Phileas Fogg faces in this charming adaptation of Jules Verne’s classic adventure tale.

Fogg starts out as someone most people today fear: a fundamentalist. That is, he doesn’t just talk about his faith; he actually lives it. However, it isn’t a particular religion that commands Fogg’s allegiance but science. He believes science can transform the world, and he would like nothing more than to prove it.

However, like every religious enthusiast, Fogg is constrained by the Pharisees of his day—Lord Kelvin and his sniggering group of mutton-chopped cronies at the British Academy of Science. They scoff at the brash young inventor and his “silly notions.� They are living in a golden age, Kelvin claims. Everything worth knowing has been discovered. But Fogg persists until Kelvin finally challenges him to lay everything on the line in the form of a wager: If Fogg can circumnavigate the globe in 80 days or less, Kelvin will relinquish his Academy chair and let Fogg take his place. However, if Fogg fails, he must leave the Academy for good and promise never to invent again. Fogg accepts the challenge and, joined by a Chinese fugitive and a former coat check girl, embarks on a globe-spanning journey that is often perilous and nearly always hilarious.

Despite his enthusiasm, we soon learn that Fogg is not without his own faults. Primarily, his weakness lies in the fact that he sees other people as liabilities rather than assets. “Hell is other people,� said philosopher Jean Paul Sartre, and Fogg couldn’t agree more. Nevertheless, during the journey Fogg learns that while staying true to his beliefs is important, some things shouldn’t be sacrificed. To paraphrase Sartre, Fogg comes to realize that “hell isn’t other people; it’s being without the people you love.�

In addition to solid performances from Jackie Chan, Steve Coogan, Cecile de France, and Ed Broadbent, this film emulates its 1956 predecessor by featuring cameos from a number of well-known stars, including a two-minute bit by Rob Schneider that is one of the funniest things he has ever done. If you’re looking for good, clean fun that the entire family can enjoy, this is definitely the film for you.


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