V for Vendetta

—1. Overview
—2. Cast and Crew
—3. Photo Pages
—4. Trailers, Clips, DVDs, Books, Soundtrack
—5. Posters (Natalie Portman)
—6. Production Notes (pdf)
—7. Spiritual Connections
—8. Presentation Downloads

Remember, remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot...

Based on the brilliantly prescient comic book written almost 20 years ago by Alan Moore (who has had his name removed from the movie during one of his famous snits), V for Vendetta seems more relevant today than it did when he first feared a Thatcher/Reagan world. As much anarchist manifesto as movie, it takes place during the regime of a fascist England—“Strength through unity. Unity through faith.� Symbolized by a double-barred cross (reminiscent of the broken cross of the Nazi party), the government has declared martial law. The citizens are subjected to fingermen (their own brethren serving as informants to the government), constant surveillance of their conversations, government controlled media, and any undesirable being “black-bagged� (troops bursting into their homes and dragging them off with black bags over their heads to detention camps).

Enter V (Hugo Weaving).

Hugo Weaving (The Matrix and The Lord of the Rings trilogies) uses his voice and body language to convey the presence the character, since his mask, unlike most super-hero characters, doesn’t move. The only problem with the movie, if you aren’t familiar with the original work, is that it is not an action movie. The movie was written and co-produced by the Wachowski brothers (also of The Matrix trilogy) and continues the theme of rebels against the (governmental) system that they like to explore in their work. As the film is as much a meditation on an idea as it is conventional action film, those expecting a spandex slugfest will be disappointed. This movie, like The Matrix movies, is about ideas.

“Violence can be used for good. Justice.�

–V

Running around in a Guy Fawkes mask, V calls for revolution and anarchy, in order to bring down the government. Anarchists, to my mind, have never held a particularly well thought-out position. Mostly because many of the people who call themselves “anarchists� fall more into the chaos for chaos’ sake camp. Anarchy can be a tool, a means to an end, but there has to be a point. It has to lead to something. The terrorist imagery against the backdrop of a totalitarian government leaves a mish-mosh of fodder for discussion, though on the surface it wants to be an allegory for our times.

Moving away from the movie’s political intentions, V is the Christ figure in the movie, a person of judgment (“No one escapes their past. No one escapes judgment.�) and compassion, who calls for a revolution in living and thought. Evey (quite serviceably played by Natalie Portman, Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Attack of the Clones, Revenge of the Sith) is his apostle, and in a lot of ways, represents the humanity of V’s “Christ.� Similar to Christ, V leads her, and by extension, the people of England, on a journey to freedom.

“I wish I wasn’t afraid all the time. ... I know this world is screwed up.�

–Evey

The first step on this path to freedom is realization of the dilemma that we find ourselves in. In their world, there is something terribly wrong. The people live lives of coerced conformity, their freedoms curtailed. They “gave away our civil liberties in order to feel safe�; in other words, they gave into the fear in their lives (a fear ultimately created by themselves). Because their world seemed so dark, hopeless, and full of despair, they traded their freedom to secure a measure of order and peace. On top of that, they sensed that they weren’t who they were supposed to be. As Gordon puts it, “You wear a mask for so long you forget who you were beneath it.�

“An idea can still change the world.�

–Evey

V for Vendetta also explores the power of symbols and the power of art to convey ideas. What the people needed wasn’t another symbol of the government lording over them; rather, the populace “needs more than a building, it needs hope.� This is where revolution begins, with a new idea and faith in a new hope. For such a revolution to take root, it needs messengers to carry the idea forth and converts to live out the mission. His was a simple message, one of hope. The world as he knew it would end and a new world, a new kingdom, would begin.

In this regard, V was joining in Christ’s mission. “I, like God, do not play with dice and do not believe in coincidence,� V says. God is all over this movie. God is in the rain, Evey proclaims as she marvels at His creation with new eyes. God is also in coincidence, one of the themes of the movie: coincidence is like God’s fingerprints.

“You’ve been running from it all your life.�

-V

The next step in the journey is a kind of conversion experience, a paradigm shift as one moves from one kind of worldview to another. It is a wrestling of faith (vs. doubt). In Evey’s case, her faith had been in society’s structures, government, and institutions. In other words, faith in the wrong things. To accept the revolutionary message of freedom meant that her old way of thinking had do be broken down. Discipleship is not easy; often we share V’s lament, “I wish there was an easier way.� This part of the journey can be the most arduous and means a refusal to give in to the tests/trials of one’s faith and accepting a clarity of purpose.

The final step of the journey of freedom involves baptism into their new life. The interesting contrast was in their respective baptisms: Evey’s was in water (“God is in the rain�) and V’s was a baptism of fire (when he escaped his detention facility).

“You are completely free. You have no fear anymore.�

–V

V lived by a simple credo: Vi Veni Universum Vivus Vici (by the power of truth, I, a living man, have conquered the universe). Ironically, once you have set upon the path to freedom, the journey never truly ends. You begin life as you should have been living from the beginning, free to live as you were created to be. To be fully human: “ to laugh, to cry, to kiss.�

V for Vendetta is so literate, with such a powerful use of language—you could choke on the alliterative “v�s in the dialogue—this easily felt like one of the best movies I ever read. The Wachowski brothers dialogue still feels a little heavy handed as they are prone to over-writing to highlight the “significance� of the ideas they are trying to convey. I don’t know if the subversive message of a harlequin terrorist will resonate with an audience; however, anarchy has always been fashionable. The revolution will not be televised, but it will fit nicely onto a movie screen.

— Overview

Batman: Arkham Asylum

Writer: Grant Morrison
Artist: Dave McKean
Publisher: DC Comics


“But I don’t want to go among mad people,� Alice remarked.
“Oh, you can’t help that,� said the Cat, “we’re all mad here. I’m mad, you’re mad.�
“How do you know I’m mad?� said Alice
“You must be,� said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.�
–Lewis Carroll (Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland)

In 1989, when the British invasion of comic book writers was well underway, Grant Morrison was tasked to write a 64 page one-shot that grew into the graphic novel, Batman: Arkham Asylum. He was already making his mark, spinning imaginative stories around B-level characters (Animal Man, Doom Patrol) before going on to write a host of other great comic book runs, (DC One Million, JLA, X-Men, All-Star Superman). Before I come off as a complete fanboy, he was also prone to some truly odd ball runs ( I’m still puzzling my way through Invisibles and WE3).

Batman: Arkham Asylum is more a horror comic detailing the dark history of the Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, this “triumph of reason over the irrational.� is where the psychologically disturbed villains that Batman faces (from the Joker to Two-Face) are consigned to between escapes. It almost has the feeling of a Lovecraftian world (one that the word “Arkham� tends to conjure), though this is equally due to Dave McKean’s (Sandman) mix of photography and painting that creates the Gothic home of the insane. In fact, this is the definitive Arkham story.

“Arkham is a looking glass. And we are you.� - led by the Joker (the clown prince of psychosis), the inmates have taken over the asylum and have blackmailed Batman into joining them within its walls. Fighting against his own psyche, Batman must jump through their hoops, elude them, and rescue the hostages - all against the backdrop of the story of Dr. Amadeus Arkham, the asylum’s founder. The story is one of a legacy of hate and madness that explores the conceit that a finer line than we feel comfortable with separates the sane from the mad. The madness seems to be contagious as such close proximity to the insane has had an effect on some of the doctors.

“I realized that she was simply trying to protect herself from something in the only way that made sense to her ... mother had been born again, into that other world. A world of fathomless signs and portents. Of magic and terror. And mysterious symbols.� –Dr. Amadeus Arkham

Madness is often associated with paradigm shifts, a change in how we see the world. Experiencing such a shift, living through it, can be quite traumatic - moreso than we might guess at first. We become invested in our worldview; often defining ourselves through them (as much as they often define us). When those (mutual) definitions crumble, so goes our grounding, our sense of reality.

The kingdom of humanity is very much a kingdom of madness. Amadeus Arkham describes his predicament way: “Madness is born in the blood. It is my birthright. My inheritance. My destiny.� He is all too fully aware of the fact that we live in a cycle of death–one of (the lie of) self-sufficiency, fear, doubt, anxiety, broken relationships–with our minds, as one of the doctors described the Joker, filled with “thoughts guided by chaos.� We have this mix of feelings going on within us. This vague confusion and longing, what Augustine called the God-sized hole within each of us. Since we have to fill this void with something, we search and even invent ideas, personas, or things to fill this inner dissatisfaction. And yet, we can’t escape the ache of emptiness.

“I run blindly through the madhouse. And I cannot even pray for I have no God.� –Amadeus Arkham

These can lead to what the Spanish mystic, St. John of the Cross, called dark nights of the soul. And it can be tough finding your way out of them. Not every painful experience falls into that specific category. It refers to something more than simple misfortune, but we can learn much about getting through stormy times by learning about getting through those dark nights.

Overall, the process looks something like this:
-we feel that God is absent and inactive; He’s gone and we’re alone.
-we’ve come to the end of our ability to be in control.
-the familiar (spiritual) practices that we had come to depend on, that usually comforted us, instead
seem hollow and ineffective
-BOOM! We hit a wall.
But it is the feeling that God is not at work, that He has abandoned us, and all of our cries
are going unanswered that causes us the greatest pain.

“I have been shown the path. I must follow where it leads.� –Amadeus Arkham

A lot of times we place our love and faith in the wrong things, or good things that aren’t
the best things - confusing our spiritual ideas with some distorted ideas of God. It’s tough to hold on to faith when all we hear is a deafening silence, yet that is exactly what we must do during such times. Sometimes the dark circumstances are the exact times that God uses to transform us. This is what Batman had to learn (a dark night for the Dark Knight).

Grant Morrison took a cliche (the inmates running the asylum) and spun a dark, satisfying tale from it. While it had become quite the fad to explore Batman as borderline psychotic–starting with Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns–Morrison seriously explores the idea. In the final analysis, this was a solid, creepy story with art that matched the mood of the book - I just don’t think it was worth the price of admission (at least the first time around. The 15th year anniversary edition features a ton of extras that nearly doubles the original’s length and includes an annotated version of the original script). In Batman: Arkham Asylum’s examination of the horror of insanity, and our fear of our own detaching from reality, this is one of Grant Morrison’s more thought-provoking and haunting works.

Batman: Arkham Asylum

Writer: Grant Morrison
Artist: Dave McKean
Publisher: DC Comics


“But I don’t want to go among mad people,� Alice remarked.
“Oh, you can’t help that,� said the Cat, “we’re all mad here. I’m mad, you’re mad.�
“How do you know I’m mad?� said Alice
“You must be,� said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.�
–Lewis Carroll (Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland)

In 1989, when the British invasion of comic book writers was well underway, Grant Morrison was tasked to write a 64 page one-shot that grew into the graphic novel, Batman: Arkham Asylum. He was already making his mark, spinning imaginative stories around B-level characters (Animal Man, Doom Patrol) before going on to write a host of other great comic book runs, (DC One Million, JLA, X-Men, All-Star Superman). Before I come off as a complete fanboy, he was also prone to some truly odd ball runs ( I’m still puzzling my way through Invisibles and WE3).

Batman: Arkham Asylum is more a horror comic detailing the dark history of the Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, this “triumph of reason over the irrational.� is where the psychologically disturbed villains that Batman faces (from the Joker to Two-Face) are consigned to between escapes. It almost has the feeling of a Lovecraftian world (one that the word “Arkham� tends to conjure), though this is equally due to Dave McKean’s (Sandman) mix of photography and painting that creates the Gothic home of the insane. In fact, this is the definitive Arkham story.

“Arkham is a looking glass. And we are you.� - led by the Joker (the clown prince of psychosis), the inmates have taken over the asylum and have blackmailed Batman into joining them within its walls. Fighting against his own psyche, Batman must jump through their hoops, elude them, and rescue the hostages - all against the backdrop of the story of Dr. Amadeus Arkham, the asylum’s founder. The story is one of a legacy of hate and madness that explores the conceit that a finer line than we feel comfortable with separates the sane from the mad. The madness seems to be contagious as such close proximity to the insane has had an effect on some of the doctors.

“I realized that she was simply trying to protect herself from something in the only way that made sense to her ... mother had been born again, into that other world. A world of fathomless signs and portents. Of magic and terror. And mysterious symbols.� –Dr. Amadeus Arkham

Madness is often associated with paradigm shifts, a change in how we see the world. Experiencing such a shift, living through it, can be quite traumatic - moreso than we might guess at first. We become invested in our worldview; often defining ourselves through them (as much as they often define us). When those (mutual) definitions crumble, so goes our grounding, our sense of reality.

The kingdom of humanity is very much a kingdom of madness. Amadeus Arkham describes his predicament way: “Madness is born in the blood. It is my birthright. My inheritance. My destiny.� He is all too fully aware of the fact that we live in a cycle of death–one of (the lie of) self-sufficiency, fear, doubt, anxiety, broken relationships–with our minds, as one of the doctors described the Joker, filled with “thoughts guided by chaos.� We have this mix of feelings going on within us. This vague confusion and longing, what Augustine called the God-sized hole within each of us. Since we have to fill this void with something, we search and even invent ideas, personas, or things to fill this inner dissatisfaction. And yet, we can’t escape the ache of emptiness.

“I run blindly through the madhouse. And I cannot even pray for I have no God.� –Amadeus Arkham

These can lead to what the Spanish mystic, St. John of the Cross, called dark nights of the soul. And it can be tough finding your way out of them. Not every painful experience falls into that specific category. It refers to something more than simple misfortune, but we can learn much about getting through stormy times by learning about getting through those dark nights.

Overall, the process looks something like this:
-we feel that God is absent and inactive; He’s gone and we’re alone.
-we’ve come to the end of our ability to be in control.
-the familiar (spiritual) practices that we had come to depend on, that usually comforted us, instead
seem hollow and ineffective
-BOOM! We hit a wall.
But it is the feeling that God is not at work, that He has abandoned us, and all of our cries
are going unanswered that causes us the greatest pain.

“I have been shown the path. I must follow where it leads.� –Amadeus Arkham

A lot of times we place our love and faith in the wrong things, or good things that aren’t
the best things - confusing our spiritual ideas with some distorted ideas of God. It’s tough to hold on to faith when all we hear is a deafening silence, yet that is exactly what we must do during such times. Sometimes the dark circumstances are the exact times that God uses to transform us. This is what Batman had to learn (a dark night for the Dark Knight).

Grant Morrison took a cliche (the inmates running the asylum) and spun a dark, satisfying tale from it. While it had become quite the fad to explore Batman as borderline psychotic–starting with Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns–Morrison seriously explores the idea. In the final analysis, this was a solid, creepy story with art that matched the mood of the book - I just don’t think it was worth the price of admission (at least the first time around. The 15th year anniversary edition features a ton of extras that nearly doubles the original’s length and includes an annotated version of the original script). In Batman: Arkham Asylum’s examination of the horror of insanity, and our fear of our own detaching from reality, this is one of Grant Morrison’s more thought-provoking and haunting works.

Justice

Writer: Jim Krueger/Alex Ross
Artist: Alex Ross/Doug Braithwaite
Publisher: DC Comics

Having brought us the trilogy of maxi-series (Earth X, Universe X, and Paradise X) that cast a dark possible future for the Marvel Universe super-heroes, Jim Krueger and Alex Ross reunite after far too long with the book Justice. This time they are playing with the DC stable of icons. What’s interesting is that the creators seem much more respectful of these heroes. I don’t know if respectful is the right word, but it’s like they are very mindful about keeping a sense of innocence about the characters. There almost seems to be a sort of rebellion against the dystopian takes on the heroes that we grew up with. Like the various creators are tired of deconstructing the idea of a hero, tired of showing that all heroes have feet of clay, tired of tearing down heroes in order to be dark or edgy in their attempts to be “relevant�.

Ross does the covers, paints over Doug Braithwaite’s interior pencils, and co-plots with Krueger, so this book heavily bears his stamp. The plot is simple: the world is coming to an end and there is nothing that the people humanity has come to depend on, the super-heroes, can do about it. The warning comes in the form of a dream that plagues hero and villain alike, setting up a ... wait for it ... Superfriends vs. the Legion of Doom style scenario.

“Who decided we needed to be saved?�

Reminiscent of Marvels, another book painted by Alex Ross (which put him on the map), which examined super-heroes from the common man’s perspective, Justice takes the next step. Super-heroes operate like guardian angels, yet can also be treated like gods. Fighting battles that are so ... beyond humanity. In the heavens. Against powers and forces humanity can’t comprehend. Reminding us of our helplessness. That we can’t save ourselves. While Wonder Woman sees herself as ambassador to the Amazonian way, spreading her good-sounding message of self-determination (“isn’t that why we are here? To change the world? To save it together?�), eventually, we hit the limits of what we can do ourselves. All of our self-salvation schemes basically boil down to survival in this life.

“We were the forgers of the planet, the lifters of the flame. We were the dreamers and the myth-makers. We were the inventors, and the industry and the life and the blood. We were Earth’s men.�

There can be a sort of resentment that builds up towards any person or idea that makes us realize our limitations. In a lot of ways, dependence on higher ideals or agents marks the end of human evolution. Why strive when we have them, these crutches for the weak, to lean on? And no one wants to be thought of as weak. As our narrator puts it, “when the so-called Justice League of America banded together because they were unwilling to allow us to bleed and suffer and learn how to defend ourselves.� Though, that is not entirely true. Super-heroes realized that they couldn’t fight humanity’s battles for them. That’s why, despite their technology, they have never cured disease. They have never ended famine. They have never stopped wars. These were battles humanity had to fight for themselves.

We all, humanity and super-hero alike, share a common nightmare. There are some disasters, some horrors, beyond their ability to save us. Some crises too large for them to handle. Every hero’s biggest fear is being too late to do anything. Even the so-called super-villains are heroes in their own stories. This begs the question to whom do angels turn during trying times of their faith? Who is their higher power? It’s what happens when heroes and villains alike have dreams that bring about end of self moments.

When God is removed from the equation, we are left as Brainiac describes: “Your existence is accidental. You were not born of design. That is why, even at your current evolutionary state, you are rather pathetic ... yet deep inside, you yearn for more than this world can offer. You want design. You want to be a part of something.� It’s almost as if something was etched into the fiber of our being.

“What’s wrong with me, Batman? What’s wrong with you? What’s the cause of crime?� –The Riddler

We are our own worst enemies. Something inside us–this pride of self, some inner stumbling block– keeps us from getting by under our own efforts. In light of things bigger than us, in light of seeing our true condition, in light of being helpless, we–like the Riddler–have to ask the big questions: “Why is there crime? Where do we go when we die? Why is there suffering in the world?� In us there is this need for justice. The cry of “that’s not fair� rises from us as if we intuitively know that there was supposed to be something fair about life. That we aren’t what, where, or who we are supposed to be. And that there is an ultimate Justice. It’s as if a sense of right and wrong was written onto our hearts. There comes a time when we turn to the Author of our hearts.

It’s great to see Alex Ross painting on the interior (I thought the interior art was the chief weakness of the pair’s Marvel X work). I’ve also long been a fan of Krueger’s thick prose style in comics. This story has the sense of being a throwback to a simpler time, the Silver Age of comics and it is much appreciated. The story, pacing, and artwork - this is building to be a story for the ages. Casual and hard core comic fans alike can pick this one up and enjoy.

X-Factor

Writer: Peter David
Artist: Ryan Sook
Publisher: Marvel Comics

There must be some unwritten law that says Peter David ought to get two shots at a book. Yes, I’m a bit of a Peter David fanboy. Yes, that’s why I reviewed his return to The Incredible Hulk, his return to Fallen Angel, and now his return to X-Factor. I was a fan of his original run on X-Factor, as he actually put an interesting spin on a team that basically served as yet another directionless re-hash of the X-Men. True to his history, he was prematurely yanked off the book as the powers that be decided it ought to go in a different direction.

And everyone lost interest.

But I digress.

Fresh on the heels of the Madrox mini-series, the new team line up features Madrox the Multiple man, as a kind of throwback to film noir, gumshoe detective. I have always Peter David’s take on Madrox, brilliant. Madrox was a pretty silly secondary character, but has now one of the most intriguing in the Marvel universe. His power is that he can split himself into multiple bodies, potentially creating an endless supply of Madroxes. The hook is that each body can have its own experiences, memories, and personality (or, on the flipside, are merely facets of Jamie Madrox’s personality to begin with). He gets to lead multiple lives, then reintegrate the bodies after a time and assimilate their memories and experiences.

Wolfsbane is still devoutly Catholic, though she remains devoted to God without shoving religion down peoples’ throats. Strong Guy, a recently de-powered Rictor, the ever better-than-thou M, and potential love interest Siryn round out the team. Not everything is pitch perfect in the book. I am not a fan of David’s take on M, who comes across a little too shrill in the book.

“I’m the fly in the ointment. The spanner in the works. I’m unpredictable.� --Jamie Madrox, the (evil) Multiple Man

Life equals mystery. There’s no getting around it. Life is an X-Factor, we are besieged by X-Factors. Despite the Sam Spade redux trappings, Jamie Madrox is a man on a journey who simply has the opportunity to try all paths simultaneously. He doesn’t have a crossroads to speak of because at any given fork in the road, he can take both paths. While he has placed himself in a context of solving mysteries, the fact of the matter is that mystery is very much a part of his walk. One that he’s embraced as part of his journey. While answers are nice, it is the journey that forms us - the continual quest for truth.

You have to wonder how many times Marvel is going to go the mutant book well. With his trademark humor, despite the darker tone of the book, Peter David deftly juggles a cast of characters easily making X-Factor–along with The Astonishing X-Men–the best X-books going. If Peter David’s trend of continuing his repeat runs on books he departed, I can only hope a return to Aquaman isn’t impossible.

Chocolat

With the Lenten season upon us, I thought it would be interesting to re-visit a movie that takes place during the season. Since so many folks in my circles were giving up chocolate for Lent, (either I’m clever or cruel, the jury is still out) I thought it apropos to review Chocolat (2000). Chocolat is one of those light romantic movies that is neither a romance nor a chick flick, though it often seems to masquerade as one. Yet, I couldn’t think of a better movie to illustrate what it means to be the church, to be missional in one’s life, and featuring a hero(ine) molded so perfectly in the image of Christ.

The movie has a fable quality about it, sort of a “once upon a time� setting. Have you ever had the feeling that life is gray? Like somehow all the joy and color you expect to be there has been drained or never quite come to full light in your life? So many of us wander through our lives in just that very state; some of us, sadly, thinking that we have actually arrived at where we are supposed to be. Such was the condition of a small French village when a mother and daughter, like missionaries, enter the town - like a clever north wind blowing into people’s lives. The pair immediately set up shop, a chocolatarie to be precise, dispensing ancient kawkaw remedies and offering healing. The movie almost seems to want to set up this battle between a pagan, earth priestess and an over- church-ified town, but I thought that was the wrong way to look at this movie.

Vianne Rocher (Juliette Binoche) and Anouk Rocher (Victoire Thivisol) are not perfect, mind you. Vianne is a bit of a slave to her own restless spirit and Anouk had an imaginary friend–her kangaroo, Pontouf–who had a hurt leg (representing her own wound that needed healing). Vianne is strong, self-reliant, and independent - characteristics frowned upon in a “fallen� woman. And yet, broken vessel that she is, Vianne has chosen to adopt Christ’s mission to be a blessing to others. She challenges the (empty) traditions of the town, their way of life and doing things.

Opening a chocolaterie during Lent, their holy time, was the equivalent of doing “work� on the Sabbath, the holy day, the sin Jesus was often accused of committing. It is the idea of the message of the chocolate that fascinates me. As Harry Knowles, of Ain’t It Cool News, put it: How many times are we told that Chocolate is an instrument of the devil? We describe its taste as being sinful. Why? Is something so good automatically a pull-string to hell? If so, why be a part of a religion that preaches such rhetoric. Seriously, who wants to go to a heaven where Elvis and Chocolate are not allowed? The thing is, while chocolate could very easily be a metaphor for sin and the forbidden, I actually thought it stood for the exact opposite: the Gospel. Chocolate symbolizes the Good News - a message of liberation; a renewal of their minds and lives; transformation to their true selves.

“If you lived in the village, you knew what was expected of you. You knew your place in the scheme of things. And if you were to forget, someone would remind you.� –Anouk Rocher

The town, like so many of us, was all about surface matters, the pursuit of appearances: looking good–spiritually and otherwise. It’s no wonder that the Bible ends up saying of the religious leaders of its day, the Pharisees, “They honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.� Faith doesn’t look like duty; no one wants duty, not even God. The Comte Paul de Reynaud (Alfred Molina, Spider-Man 2), the mayor of the city, was also its chief Pharisee. He extolled hard work, modesty, self-discipline, almost for their own sake rather than for any greater purpose. His gospel was one of legalized morality, with morality apparently being its own end. In his campaign against this trouble-maker, Vianne, the more he felt his power slipping, the more extreme he became in order to retain his influence. For example, he began launching boycotts against immorality.

In contrast to the religious folk, Vianne provided a much clearer picture of what the church looks like. You see, when institutions fail to do what the were created to do, to be what they were supposed to be about, other places–not often looking like what one expects–will spring up to do their job. Where once there was a church, now there is a chocolatarie and Vianne shows the kindness, acceptance and love so lacking in the town and their professed faith.

“What idea are you selling?� Roux (Johnny Depp)

The people believed in tranquility and tradition. They had become comfortable with their way of doing things, even if their way was no longer relevant or reaching or transforming the people. They had become closed off, repressed - forgetting that God’s creation is good. That there is room for sensuality and responsible balance, just as there is room for mysticism and a love of creation. We were created to enjoy the pleasures of this world. Enjoying it in its proper context, without over indulgence; but some people can’t handle that sort of freedom. So they cling to a narrow set of dos and don’ts, making their faith about rules and regulations, and, inadvertently, God the cosmic killjoy of their lives.

The thing that the Comte had to learn was that spiritual practices without the heart are just empty rituals. When he finally partakes of the Good News (the chocolate), it nearly breaks him. He finds himself, literally, wallowing in chocolate, his hypocrisy exposed. For Vianne, sharing her Good News is done through her actions and through her lifestyle, not by making a sales pitch for a better way of living. Before the Comte could even apologize, she was there offering him (living) water, and sometimes she does have to use words (“Drink this. You’ll be refreshed.�)

“It’s not easy being different.� Vianne Rocher

Vianne very much mirrors Christ. You can tell that by how she is talked about by the town’s people: “Some kind of radical.� Indecent. A bad influence. She hung around with the sinners of her day, the outcasts: scorned women, river rats (the lepers of their town). She even forms her own band of disciples: Luc Clairmont (Aurelien Parent Koenig)–whose mother, Caroline Clairmont (Carrie-Anne Moss, from The Matrix Trilogy and Memento) barely lets out of her over-protective sight; Armande Voizin (Judi Dench), Josephine Muscat (Lena Olin, from television’s Alias). Vianne took in the battered and invited people to walk alongside her in her journey, challenging people’s comfort zones.

Because she was not about forcing her faith, her beliefs on others, she had her moment of doubt, her crisis of faith. While some people respond to her message, some didn’t - and those that didn’t cause all manner of grief, hardships, and hostility. Still, she felt called to love and serve, be a blessing to others, even when they resist. And continue to love any way. Because there was something that both Vianne and the town needed.

“I’d rather talk about his humanity ... how he lived his life here on Earth. His kindness. His tolerance. I think we can’t go around measuring out goodness by what we don’t do. By what we deny ourselves, what we resist, and who we exclude. I think we’ve got to measure goodness by what we embrace, what we create, and who we include.� –Pere Henri (Hugh O’Conor)

On Easter, there was a miracle of transformation. A “lightening of the spirit� filled the town as the people were freed from tranquility. Partly, this was symbolized by Vianne herself. She had carried around her mother’s ashes as part of her wanderer’s legacy, much like the story of the Israelites carrying the remains of their father until they reached their promised land (Exodus 13:19). The release of her mother’s ashes was almost like Christ sending the Holy Spirit to complete/carry on His mission.

Christ’s good news was that the kingdom of heaven was now, and we can join him in being a blessing to others. One of the traps that we are prone to falling into is one of judging where we have no business judging. Christ threatened people with inclusion. The ones that you think are out, are in. The ones you think are in are further out than you think. He came to give life, full and rich life, full of joy and color.

Sometimes it’s hard to get a vision of what it means to lead missional and intentional lives - to join in with Christ’s redemptive mission. That’s why I love movies that can paint such a vivid portrait of what it can look like. Movies like Chocolat.

Infinite Crisis

Writer: Geoff Johns
Artist: Phil Jiminez
Publisher: DC Comics

Normally, comic book mega events leave me dissatisfied—more exercises in marketing (no, I haven’t forgiven Marvel for Secret Wars II) than triumphs of story-telling. The comic book companies knew they had burned out their readership with endless useless tie-ins and sprawling storylines. So naturally, I approached Infinite Crisis with skepticism (as well as my inner fanboy longing that it actually be a comic and story worth investing in).

The buildup for Infinite Crisis began a decade ago in Crisis on Infinite Earths. For the uninitiated, the DC universe likes to have the occasional comic book that serves as a sort of reset for their characters and as a springboard for new ideas, characters, and situations. Crisis on Infinite Earths. Zero Hour. Kingdom. The DC universe was a confusing multiverse caused by one man’s actions “and his blasphemous actions corrupted the innate nature of the cosmos.� During Crisis on Infinite Earths, the universes were merged into one, consolidating the histories of the characters and their various incarnations.

While Infinite Crisis is a sequel of sorts to Crisis on Infinite Earths, it also springs from some of the events and revelations from Identity Crisis. How big an event is Infinite Crisis? To fully appreciate the build up for Infinite Crisis, one might want to pick up Prelude to Infinite Crisis. The story then picks up in earnest with Countdown to Infinite Crisis. Day of Vengeance (a story involving the mystical characters of the DC universe, because the grand story works on a physical and metaphysical level), Villains United (a close second place finish in the race of the best of these minis-series—half character study and a behind the scenes look at the community of villains), Rann-Thanagar War (a mess of a series that requires knowledge of the various alien races and agendas of the DC universe that was hard to keep together), and The O.M.A.C. Project (the most gripping and most directly relevant of the various mini-series, about the spying satellite project designed by Batman corrupted for an attempt to wipe out all metahumans).

All the major comic books of the DC Universe tie into or draw from Infinite Crisis. I can’t begin to comprehend the amount of effort it takes to coordinate something on this scale. Geoff Johns proves himself a master of story-telling and dialogue (DC’s answer to Brian Michael Bendis). Phil Jiminez’s George Perez-inspired brand of detailed artwork must make it tough to squeeze in dialogue for fear of crowding out the pretty pictures. All of this makes for a project that takes on the power of myth making, a story for the ages.

Wonder Woman: Look at what’s going on across the globe, Bruce. Do you really believe humanity’s going to rise above it themselves?

Batman: You’ve lost faith.

Wonder Woman: The world is not as black and white as you and Kal see it.

Batman: Diana... you should’ve stayed in paradise.

Wonder Woman: And you should stop judging everyone but yourself. You’ve lost your way.

Superman: And you’ve lost yours.

Even the pillars of the super hero pantheon have trouble working together at this point. Batman, the pinnacle of human achievement, the self-made man, realizes his limitations. His way doesn’t offer hope of something greater than himself. An Ideal, a greater Reality. Superman seems to have forgotten his role, not just as a hero, a hero’s hero, but as inspiration. Wonder Woman, the warrior princess, had come to see the failure of her mission as ambassador of peace. People had forgotten the warrior side of her persona. In addition to being royalty from a warrior culture (Amazons), this daughter of Greek myth played by a different set of rules. People were reminded as footage of her killing the man behind the corruption of the O.M.A.C. Project had been broadcast around the world. Making people afraid of their heroes.

Mining territory similarly explored in John Byrne’s Legends, Infinite Crisis explores a simple premise: what happens when our icons fail us? It leads to a crisis of faith. The God-sized hole that Augustine speaks of that resides in all of us is an infinite crisis. Even the pillars of the super hero community must endure this dark night of the soul.

“This is what the world does to legends. It corrupts them. Or it destroys them.�

–Superman

Many people have commented on how the deconstruction of the idea of the hero has led to a dark age in comics—an idea that Alan Moore explored in Image Comics’ Judgment Day, how writers have often confused dark and gritty for gritty’s sake (to create the semblance of modern day sensibilities and relevance) with genuine story telling. Now DC is holding a mirror up to its stories. The bad guys seem more brutal; the heroes less heroic and more vengeful. The violence has been upped a few notches. With so many characters dying in Infinite Crisis, it’s hard for any to have much emotional resonance (even in a world where “deadâ€� doesn’t mean... dead).

Part commentary on the dark turn that the DC Universe (and comics in general) have taken, Infinite Crisis appears to be saying enough is enough: heroes should act heroic. Often there is a lament for the world of the classic (more heroic? more innocent?) heroes, fearing that it is forever gone. This is a new world (darker? postmodern?) in which the heroes have to figure out how to operate. The characters sense that things aren’t as they should be, that creation, the world around them and the people that inhabit it, isn’t as it should be: that they were created to be something else, yet somewhere along the line, things had gone awry. The problem was that darkness (what some might label sin) entered the world. It spread, warping people’s lives. It took Superman’s blood before redemption of creation can be found. In many ways, Infinite Crisis is a quest for new heavens and a new earth.

Infinite Crisis is as self-contained a story as Identity Crisis, meaning that the bait-and-switch feeling you may be experiencing is because this story is also part of an larger on-going story setting up the next big event, 52. Still, it is full of great comic book moments (Nightwing/Batman, the Flashes, Superman, Luthor) and new characters developing (the Spectre, Blue Beetle). Is this a reflection of society? Maybe. Is the idealism of the past laudable, however simpler times are long dead? Maybe. Do dark times require dark heroes? Maybe. O ... do we not have to accept any of that? Hopefully. The heroes want to bring back joy to humanity. To super hero adventures. To comic book stories.

And I can’t wait.

Fallen Angel

Writer: Peter David
Artist: J.K. Woodward
Publisher: IDW Publishing

The Story Thus Far:
“Welcome to the enigmatic city of Bete Noire. In its shadow resides the Fallen Angel, whose origin has long been a mystery... until now. Much time has passed since we last saw her, and now, dreams of er long-suppressed past are surfacing and making her life even more torturous than it already is. Dreams that anticipate the return of someone from her past who may hold the key to her fortune...�

So begins Peter David’s reintroduction of the character Fallen Angel. Much time has indeed passed—twenty years in Fallen Angel’s world and a switch of publishing companies for the comic book itself. The first incarnation of the Fallen Angel series was published (and cancelled) by DC Comics. The series, after a hiatus, has been picked up by IDW Publishing. Odd as this may sound, cancellation may have been the best thing to happen to the book.

Fallen Angel takes place in Bete Noire–“the city that shapes the world�–or as Peter David described it, “Casablanca in ‘The Twilight Zone.’� The name translates into “black beast� and like everything else about the comic book, the city works on a physical as well as metaphysical level. “Think of the world as a vast pond, and Bete Noire as a source of pebbles thrown into that pond. Pebbles causing ripples that affect all they touch.� This city is the anti-Eden.


Enter Fallen Angel.

Fallen Angel (Lee, as she is called by the few people who know her) is a school teacher by day and a guardian angel by night. Peter David loves the idea of angels. He toyed with them in his run on Supergirl and Fallen Angel, while at DC, and always operated under this vague cloud of ambiguity that Lee/Fallen Angel was, in fact, the Linda Danvers character from his run on Supergirl. Lee/Fallen Angel helps those who seek her out, though only as much as she judges they deserve her help. She’s a regular at the local watering hole, Furor’s, run by her only true friend, Dolf. Bete Noire is chock full of eccentric characters, chief among them being Dr. Juris, Bete Noire’s magistrate and some time love interest for Lee.

Again, cancellation maybe the best thing to happen to this book. Besides shedding the Linda Danvers baggage, Peter David seems to have stripped down the story, cutting right to the heart of the mystery as if fearing the story won’t be told before it gets cancelled again. People have often complained about his style of often breaking the mood of a moment with inappropriate puns or one-liners (a charge that could equally be levied at Joss Whedon), when those very things define a David (or Whedon) work—however, frustrating it can be. Cancellation also gave the book the opportunity to pick up JK Woodward as it’s artist, whose gorgeous painting perfectly captures the moodiness of the character and the story.

Lee/Fallen Angel is a sometimes charming, sometimes dark, not always likeable, always enigmatic... I don’t know if heroine is the right word to describe her, but she certainly is on a hero’s journey of sorts. While the comic book teased us as being little more than a quirky super hero book in its previous incarnation, this second go around fleshes out our Fallen Angel’s tortured character and painful past. The comic book is rife with symbolism: even her costume is more Judeo-Christian vestments than anything typical of the spandex set. As with everything else about Bete Noire, appearances can be deceiving as the truth usually lies somewhere beneath the surface. Everyone is more than they seem. Fallen Angel’s story itself is both mystery and metaphor.

The phrase “fallen angel� alludes to Lucifer and the angels who rebelled against God and were cast out of heaven. Yet it also speaks to her dual nature: fallen, though still trying to do the right thing. Lee searches for redemption, all the while not thinking about what to do with it should she find it. As a fallen guardian angel, she can’t help but do what she was created to be and do. She lives her life, an echo, a shadow of her true self. This is the same place we all find ourselves in as we seek to navigate through this world. The thing is, our fallen-ness doesn’t land us past the point of redemption, despite how we think it might. It reminds me of what Michael Yaconelli wrote in his book, Messy Spirituality, about the woman at the well:

All of the cards are stacked against the woman at the well. Looking at her long string of bad choices, many would consider her unredeemable, unsalvageable, unteachable, and beyond help. She hasn't just made a few mistakes; she has lived a lifetime of mistakes, enough to cause most to conclude her life is scarred beyond hope. She comes to the well at the middle of the day because respectable women come in the morning and she understands that she is no respectable woman.

But Jesus respects her. Jesus doesn't see what everyone else sees.

As far as Jesus is concerned, this woman is salvageable, teachable and redeemable. As far as Jesus is concerned, the woman with no future has a future; the woman with a string of failures is about to have the string broken. Jesus sees her present desire, which makes her past irrelevant.

You don't suppose, do you, the same could be true for you and me? Our mistakes, our strings of failures, and what everyone else labels unredeemable may actually be redeemable? You don't suppose the mess we've made of our lives can be the place where we meet Jesus? Do you?

Like the woman at the well and like Lee, we also have to learn that it’s not the stumbling that marks our walks. It’s not the bruises and scars that we collect along our spiritual journey, or any part of our life really. It’s the getting back up and continuing the walk of redemption. The walk may not always look pretty and we’re not always going to know the right thing to do. It can often be quite messy, but it is as valid a walk as any other. No matter what we can do, no matter what we say, we can’t fall far enough to separate us from grace, love and most importantly, redemption of God. Not our past, not our sins, not the secrets we keep from others, not our true selves we hide for fear of rejection. Jesus’ message was simple and direct to the adulterous woman. “Go and sin no more.�

It’s never too late to turn your life around.

Having been a long-time fan of Peter David, from his twelve year run on The Incredible Hulk to his version of Aquaman, I find that Fallen Angel continues the kind of engaging, morally ambiguous character exploration stories that have made David popular. I can’t wait to continue to follow her journey.

[For matters of complete disclosure: my story “In the Shadows of Meido� appears as a supplement in issue #1.]