Reviews

The Fisher King: Loving Our Neighbor As Ourself #TBT

June 25, 2015 by Jacob Sahms Leave a Comment

On the surface, this is a strange Terry Gilliam movie. Now, many Gilliam movies (The Brothers Grimm, 12 Monkeys) are strange, but this one appears to be shockingly normal… at first.

A shock jock, Jack Lucas (Jeff Bridges), sports the Howard Stern lifestyle, shouting out his misanthropic bile on the radio waves, until one day his ‘advice’ sends a lonely man into a rage that leaves several people at a New York restaurant murdered. Years later, Lucas is barely able to keep his sanity, unable to manage life without step-by-step directions by his girlfriend, Anne (Mercedes Ruehl). But one night, out late and mistaken for a homeless man, he’s rescued and befriended by a delusional man named Parry (Robin Williams), who fends off several mugger/thug types.

Parry shares his own understandings of what his ‘quest’ is with Lucas, and Lucas thinks him crazy. Then, he discovers that Parry’s mind snapped when a man shot and killed Parry’s wife in a New York restaurant… and Lucas feels responsible.

Their friendship is the meat of Gilliam’s film, but it hinges on a fantastic adventure that is part- Don Quixote and part-Arthurian legend. This is where the “Gilliam fantasy” plays out, delivered in beautiful high definition today by the Criterion Collection mastery. This is the material you need to know – the background for this parable of how we treat our neighbor, tied into the legends of old, the legends of King Arthur.

In the legends of King Arthur and his Round Table, there is a Fisher King (or a Wounded King, or both) who are responsible for protecting the Holy Grail, that is the cup that Jesus drank from at the Last Supper. The Fisher King is unable to have children himself – his impotence renders him unable to continue the line of men who will protect the Grail. But he is joined (and healed) by others who come to accept the task, namely Galahad and Bors who join Percival in the quest. Some versions even find that there are two of these kings who work together, of varying relatedness, with one called “The Wounded King,” and one called “The Fisher King.” (No, I didn’t know that all off the top of my head. Thanks to Wikipedia, I could present all that at least somewhat succinctly!)

The Criterion treatment means you get a written essay that speaks to the heart of the film, plus special video features (Bridges trains as Stern!) and interviews with various players, like the recently-departed Williams. It’s odd watching Williams play a mentally-disturbed man, as he often did, knowing that he struggled with depression and anguish himself. It’s a strange case of art imitating life imitating art.

Ultimately, I find the film fascinating because the two men, both broken and hurting but unable to see it for themselves, heal each other. They bind each others’ wounds up so to speak; they carry each other’s burdens. Unlike so many films like this where it’s “too far gone, too late, so sorry,” The Fisher King mystically shows what happens when someone is willing to take on the other’s burdens, lay down his life for a friend – even a friend who seemed like “the other,” distant, and unworthy.

Even more multi-dimensional is the power of ‘word’ set out in the form. As someone whose career, calling, and work (whichever one works best for you) as a pastor, teacher, and writer relies on words, I was struck by the lesson in the rise and fall of Lucas. His words are what draw people in, what earned him paychecks and fame and fortune. His anger and bitter perspective is what the media and advertisers sought… until those same, mean spirited words caused a mass murder. James 3:6 states, “The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell.” Yikes!

James continues in verse 9, “With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness. ” It’s a terrible thing what Lucas does, what he drives, inspires, or encourages that man to do in the restaurant. It’s a warning to all of us that our words have the power to kill and to scar, but… they also have the power to heal.

Lucas thinks he owes Parry, that he can help heal Parry. It’s weird, but Parry might not be the one who needs (the most) healing. Maybe it’s Lucas. Maybe it’s the serving, the binding up, the words of comfort and encouragement that Lucas says that undo all of those words of anger he shared. Maybe by sharing some of himself with another, he actually becomes human, even Christ-like.

Maybe this is what penance looks like, or redemption, or renewal. No matter what you call it, it’s beautiful.

My Bloody Valentine: The Trappings Of Conformity (ScreamFish)

June 19, 2015 by Jason Norton Leave a Comment

Cupid. Hearts. Coal-mining-pick-axe-wielding-serial-killers. Chocolates.
One of these things is not like the others. One of these things just doesn’t belong.

Oh, contraire.

Because if you’ve ever enjoyed the sheer deliciousness of this week’s feature, you’ll know not since the odd coupling of chocolate and peanut butter have two great tastes tasted so great together.

That’s right kids: today, we tear into the heart-shaped horror of My Bloody Valentine.

It’s got something for everyone: romance, intrigue, pageantry, enough beer to drown a giraffe, impalement, dueling harmonicas. And if we dig deep enough, there may even be a few lessons from the Good Book in there somewhere.

What’s not to love?

The collective whole of the horror movie industry should send a thank-you note to whoever determines holidays. Because of that shadowy celebratory committee (Editor’s note: the usual shadowy committee, Congress, is only responsible for naming Federal holidays, it turns out), there is certain to never be a shortage of source material for slasher flicks.

Following the meteoric success of John Carpenter’s classic Halloween in 1978, large and small studios alike tried to cash in on the holiday (in the broadest sense of the term) revenge-killer theme. Some enjoyed a decades-spanning longevity (Friday the 13th) while others only achieved one-hit-wonder (again, a broad term) status (April Fool’s Day). From Christmas (Black Christmas) to Mother’s Day (in the even more unoriginally named, Mother’s Day), no holiday seemed sacred to producers.

The vacances du jour for 1981 was Valentine’s Day. But in a non-sequitur curveball, Canadian offering, My Bloody Valentine, featured not a sadistic bow-hunting Cupid, but a…pick-wielding coal miner?

The story opens on February 12 as the sleepy little mining town of Valentine Bluffs is preparing for its first public Valentine Dance in twenty years. That’s because two decades prior, a pair of murders derailed the dance following a horrific mining accident. Two foremen had left the mine early to attend the dance, forgetting the group of miners still working down below. An explosion claimed the lives of all the men in the mine, except one—Harry Warden—who survived by cannibalizing his co-workers before spending a year afterward in a psych ward. Harry came back a year later, and took his revenge by murdering the foremen, leaving their hearts in Valentine’s candy boxes at the dance. Harry warned the town never again to hold a Valentine’s Dance, but once the memory of the killings began to lose their edge, local laundromat owner Mabel Osborne (Patricia Hamilton) re-organizes the once-proud tradition to help the town move on.

As the current group of young folk (all the boys, miners themselves) prepares to enjoy the first swell dance of their lives, things start getting sinister. When Mayor Hanniger (Larry Reynolds) and Police Chief Jake Newby (Don Francks) stop by the dance hall to see how the decorations are coming along, one of the kids hands the mayor a box of Valentine candy that had been left on a table for him. Attached is an anonymous note. As he rides away with the sheriff, the mayor opens the note, finding a chilling rhyme alluding to the decades’-old murders. When he opens the box, instead of chocolate hearts, he finds a human one, dismembered and bloody. When Mabel is found butchered and steamy-fresh in her shop later that evening (thanks to a gas-masked, pick-axe-wielding miner who looks like West Virginia’s answer to Darth Vader) the mayor calls off the dance. It appears Harry Warden has returned to Valentine Bluffs.

Meanwhile, tensions heat in a sordid love triangle. After an unexpected year-long hiatus, the mayor’s son, T.J. (Paul Kelman), has just returned to town and has gone back to his job in the mines. T.J. is more than just a little put-off by the fact that his former girlfriend, Sarah (Laurie Hallier), is now dating fellow miner Axl Palmer (Neil Affleck). Sarah can’t decide which dust-faced lothario she prefers as both men vie for her affections.

Undeterred by the mayor’s kibosh, the meddling kids decide to host their own Valentine’s party. And what better place to kindle romance, they reason, than down at the mine (does anyone else see how this will end?). While planning the soiree at the local watering hole, Happy (Jack Van Evera), the crotchety old barkeep, warns them to cancel the party and avoid the mine. But the headstrong younguns will have none of it, mocking poor Happy as they continue to booze it up and plot holiday shenanigans.

Like the Biblical prophet Jeremiah, Happy’s words are rejected by his intended audience. Undeterred, he devises a plan to convince them to heed his words. Hoping to scare some sense into the brazen kids, Happy rigs up a fake Harry Warden out back of the bar once they leave. But when the “real” Harry shows up, he’s not exactly flattered by the likeness. Poor Happy dies as he lived—with an ironic scowl—when he gets some unscheduled pick-axed oral surgery.

At the big party the following night, T.J. and Axel come to blows over Sarah. Meanwhile, “Harry” starts picking off the other revelers one by one, though no one else seems to notice. They’re oblivious to the tangy face-flavor of the hot dogs, after Harry gives a bit character an Oscar Meyer Swirly in the boiling cook pot prior to chilling his corpse in the fridge. They even miss him there when they reach in for beer. (Sidebar: if you’re said actor, do you include that stellar role of insignificance on your résumé?)

When the party starts getting dull, one group of revelers decide to take a quick jaunt down into the heart of the mine for coal car rides (because entertainment in Valentine Bluff is apparently quite lacking). Meanwhile, someone finally notices poor What’s-His-Name in the freezer and assumes the role of town crier. T.J., Axel and Sarah head into the mine to get their friends to safety, figuring Harry has returned. They get their confirmation when Harry shows up and starts swinging his pick like he was back on second shift.

A messy game of cat and tunnel rat ensues as our heroes try to climb out of the veritable hell they’ve wandered into. It’s the age-old formulaic morality lesson of slasher films: engage in a little debauchery, suffer violent justice at the hands of a murderous, avenging angel. Usually the most righteous character is delivered unto salvation by being the sole survivor, but not before they serve a little penance for their immoral complicity.

Sarah is the prime example in My Bloody Valentine (spoiler alert, she makes it out—as if there haven’t been enough revelations thus far). Even though she seems to have the best head on her shoulders of anyone in the group; even though she seems to know better, she goes along with them and with all the drinking and unmarried sex that invariably crops up in any horror movie worth its weight in…well, drinking and unmarried sex.

As believers, too often we fall into the same trap—ending up in a cold, dark hell by going along with the crowd instead of standing up or speaking out. Scripture warns us of the dangers of conformity in 1 John:
“Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world. And the world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever.” (1 John 2: 15-17).

And the danger of tolerance not only threatens us as individuals, but, (as in Sarah’s case in MBV) the larger group as a whole (i.e. society). In the book of Judges, the Israelites’ tolerance and subsequent conformity to the culture of the Canaanites brings down God’s wrath and stifling oppression from other nations. It is only when they heed the Judges’ God-given orders, reject the wicked Canaanite practices and turn back to God that they find peace.

Though likely hard-pressed to be considered a classic of the genre, My Bloody Valentine was beloved enough to be remade in 2009. The original is light on the scares, and the gore is not overpowering (thanks to censors, who forced producers to cut eight minutes of footage to avoid an X-rating). The faith overtones don’t hit you over the head like a pick-axe, but you can find a few nuggets if you dig deep enough. And did I mention a guy gets murdered with a pot of hot dogs?

Oh, you bloody Valentine.

Be mine, indeed.

Jurassic World: A Whole New ‘World’?

June 19, 2015 by Steve Norton Leave a Comment

$208.8 million dollars.

Let’s just let that number sit there for a minute.

While it was no surprise that it took top spot at the box office, the fact that Jurassic World has literally shattered every box office record in its opening weekend is nothing short of staggering. While there was high anticipation for the first Jurassic Park sequel in fourteen years (and, arguably, the first good one since the original), no one expected the response that this film has received.

But does popularity also necessarily mean that the film has anything to say?

In this case, maybe.

Directed by Colin Trevorrow (Safety Not Guaranteed), Jurassic World returns us to Isla Nublar, the site of the original Jurassic Park. Now a fully operational theme park with over 20 000 visitors a day, Jurassic World has become an incredible success. Although, due to the fact that it has become so accessible to the public, the dinosaurs have become commonplace as attractions. As a result, the park’s operations manager Claire Dearing (Bryce Dallas Howard) ambitiously seeks to create excitement by developing the Indomitus Rex, a new hybrid dinosaur, to terrify and delight new visitors. However, when the Indomitus eventually escapes from its pen—an ‘inevitability’ claims the park’s CEO, Simon Masrani (Irrfan Khan)—Claire must enlist the help of rugged raptor trainer, Owen Grady (Chris Pratt) to prevent the rampaging beast from killing innocent park patrons.

While far from a perfect film, World finally delivers the sequel that the franchise has needed, offering the right balance of new direction and nostalgia that has been lacking from previous entries. At long last, the raptors are both dangerous and have a purpose in the story. Once again, the narrative seems to have something to say about our current culture. Even the decision to return to Isla Nublar deliberately signaled a desire to return to the magic of the original film. (What’s more, if Guardians of the Galaxy wasn’t enough proof, Jurassic World fully establishes Chris Pratt as this generation’s lovable action hero. And yes, if the rumors are true, I am fully onboard with him taking on the whip and fedora in the inevitable Indiana Jones reboot.)

Produced by Spielberg through his Amblin label, Jurassic World very mucy feels like a throwback to the adventure films of the 80s and 90s, a fact which both plays out as a strength and a weakness. As a strength, it reveals a sense of light-heartedness and pure adventure that is often missing from today’s darker, more brooding tones. However, as a weakness, it has been argued that the character development plays out in a sexist manner; a charge that I feel isn’t fully accurate. While it is true that Owen’s character plays hero to Claire most of the film, the power dynamics have balanced out by the end. (Even if Claire’s character may not have the fearlessness of someone like Furiosa in Mad Mad: Fury Road, she’s also far from ‘weak’.)

Thematically, a lot has changed in the past twenty-two years as well. Whereas Jurassic Park stemmed from a culture just breaking the science of DNA, Jurassic World is born out of an era where people have grown accustomed to these sorts of technological advancements. Gone is the overall sense of wonder in the first film, replaced with a feeling of general malaise. Though, this is where the film dips its toe into theological territory. While Park asks whether or not man should attempt to play God, World begs the question of what happens when man gets bored of doing so? In other words, in a culture where human scientific achievement has become an everyday occurrence, Jurassic World reminds us that there is something wondrous about the very nature of life itself. In this film, the moral dilemma of the science isn’t the core problem.

The real issue is that they are no longer impressed by it.

By arguing that their ‘triceratops is seen the same [by kids] as an elephant’, Claire constantly pushes her team to invent something new. However, in the process, she also loses sight of the astonishing nature of what they’ve accomplished, a theme that echoes our own culture of self-satisfaction and entertainment. Frequently losing sight of the miraculous and emptying our world of a spiritual connection to God’s creation, too often we break down the nature of life into one giant scientific equation. As a result, by subtracting the Divine aspect to science, we are left with little view of anything larger than ourselves. (Incidentally, Jurassic World counters this error in self-absorption through the character of Owen who recognizes that these dinosaurs ‘don’t know [they were created in a lab]’ and acknowledges that they fact that they are alive makes them more than mere experiments.)

In the end, Jurassic World delivers what it promises – a fun ride with a nostalgic feel. Most surprisingly though is the fact that it also has something new to say in a franchise that had seemed to run its course over a decade ago.

Despite the fact that we may not have learned from our mistakes, it really is a whole new World.

Inside Out: Surprised by Joy (and Sadness)

June 19, 2015 by J. Alan Sharrer 2 Comments

Let’s go ahead and get this out of the way now: you should run—not walk—to your nearest movie theater and go see Pixar’s latest film, Inside Out. It’s a unique and powerful tale that thrusts emotions and feelings into the spotlight, where they shine (in some cases literally) for the world to see.

The premise for the movie is a fairly simple yet challenging one: What are the voices in a person’s head like? What do they do? How do we react as a result?

We get to see the answers to these questions played out in the form of an 11 year-old girl named Riley Anderson. As a baby, the only character that exists in her life is Joy (voice of Amy Poehler), who manages a central control center inside her head. There’s only one button to push on the console, and it’s uniquely satisfying to see Joy push it and see Riley smile and coo. Sadness (voice of Phyllis Smith) soon joins the party (33 seconds later, according to Joy), and when she touches the console, Riley starts crying. Joy’s goal is to create and collect happy memories (denoted as colored spheres) while keeping Sadness from adding any on her part. Sadness wants to be a help, but when she touches a memory, it transforms to her color (blue) and changes to a sad one. Sometimes, there are memories that are so ingrained in Riley’s life that they become Core Memories and are saved in a special vault. These memories eventually form islands (or components) of Riley’s personality—Family, Honesty, Goofiness, Hockey, and Friendship. As a result, the console gets larger and a few more characters join the action—Fear (voice of Bill Hader), Disgust (voice of Mindy Kaling), and Anger (voice of Lewis Black), who has fire shoot out of the top of his head when he’s sufficiently agitated.

Thankfully, Riley’s memories are joyful ones for the early part of her life. Then something changes—specifically, a move by her family from Minnesota to San Francisco when she’s eleven years old. What was a joyful existence is suddenly rocked to its core with unfulfilled dreams of what the new home will be like and change around every corner. Riley’s parents want her to stay happy, but she soon finds Dad spending less time with her and a moving company that makes settling in very difficult. School provides a major test for Riley—and the voices–when she’s asked to introduce herself. Sadness jumps in and messes with the core memories, changing them and bringing the little girl to tears in her class. This sets off a chain reaction where Joy and Sadness get sucked into Long Term Memory (think of the door sequence in Monsters Inc, but on steroids). Disgust, Fear, and Anger attempt to handle the situation in the meantime, with predictable results. They try a last-ditch solution that causes Joy and Sadness to attempt to rush back to headquarters before Riley loses who she is.

There’s a lot more to this (including an appearance by Bing-Bong, a pink elephant representing Riley’s imagination), but it’s impossible to explain in a short review. Trust me that it all makes sense by the end of the film, which provides a powerful emotional punch that will likely leave you choked up or reaching for some tissues.

Thankfully, there’s also a heaping helping of inventiveness and humor included with Inside Out. Dream Productions and the Land of Imagination are two such examples. And I hope you like clowns . . .

The voice casting works wonderfully, as does the bluesy music throughout the film. Of course, the graphics are what one has come to expect from Pixar—bright and full of color, yet able to convey dreariness when necessary. But, as is the norm with Pixar, the story drives everything–and Pete Docter and his crew did an excellent job with it. If there’s anything I would’ve loved to see more of, it would’ve been a deeper probe into the parent’s individual voices (though you still get an appropriate taste of their personalities—and a few additional people when the credits roll). However, Riley is the focus—and that’s a good thing. She’s going to be the center of someone’s Ph.D. dissertation one day.

One part of Inside Out that deserves mentioning is the interplay between Joy and Sadness. The two aren’t enemies, but Joy is the leader of Riley’s voices and does whatever is necessary to keep Sadness out of her life. Sadness, for her part, mopes around and recalls the sad times. When the two are sucked into Long Term Memory, Riley begins to spiral out of control and darkness begins to take over her life. As a result of this, Joy has to let go and allow Sadness to play a role in restoring Riley. This is just like those times in our life that are painful and sad–often, we don’t feel like going any further and would rather quit or stew in misery. But as Joy notes, “There’s always a way to change things around.” When we allow God to heal and change us, He is able to transform a thing of depressing sadness into incredible beauty. Or, to put it in biblical terms, He will comfort “and turn . . . sorrow into happiness” (Jeremiah 31:13 [CEV]). In the end, we become better people for the experience.

Inside Out is a film that will simultaneously convict and challenge you to examine the voices in your head. What will you find inside as a result?

Mississippi Burning: Taking Action #TBT

June 18, 2015 by Jacob Sahms Leave a Comment

Recently released on Blu-ray by Twilight Time, Mississippi Burning has always been one of my favorite films. Where Selma took the inside track with Martin Luther King Jr.’s inner circle and avoided the violence of the era (mostly), Mississippi Burning shows us the regular violence dispensed by the Klu Klux Klan to African Americans in Jessup County, MS, as well as those who might oppose them. When three civil rights workers, one black and two white, go missing, the FBI sends agents Ward (Willem Dafoe) and Anderson (Gene Hackman) to investigate. Their arrival does nothing to appease the situation on either side, but Ward’s determination to find out what happened to the three young men leads to explosive conclusions.

Ward is the by-the-book idealist while Anderson is the rule-breaking agent who figures that the two of them can’t make any kind of lasting difference. It’s one of the powerful dichotomies of the film: it’s not that one of them condones what the KKK is doing, but Anderson thinks that they will just aggravate the situation. In some ways, he’s right. People pay for their investigation with their lives, health, and happiness. But in the end, have they solved the problem?

Peppering the film are people you’ve certainly seen before, but possibly not this young. Brad Dourif (One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest) plays Deputy Pell, one of the key Klansmen who perpetrates violence on whites and blacks alike; Frances McDormand (Blood Simple, Fargo) plays his wife, one of the women who knows too much but is feels powerless to stop it. Stephen Tobolowsky (Deadwood, Heroes) plays a leading Klansman and Michael Rooker (Walking Dead, Guardians of the Galaxy) plays another cop who is also a white supremacist. Badja Djola plays an FBI agent in a pivotal role that stirs the pot, Frankie Faison (The Wire, Banshee) plays a MLK character, Tobin Bell (Saw) plays another FBI agent, and R. Lee Ermey (Full Metal Jacket) plays the corrupt mayor. It’s a testament to their acting chops that collaboratively they produced such a masterpiece.

Chris Gerolmo’s script still stirs my soul when I watch it. I’m not going to lie, watching Mississippi Burning or The Power of One make me angry. As I watched this latest time, appreciating the clarity of the Blu-ray transfer, I found myself saddened by the prospect that things … might not be that different today. Whether we like to identify things this way or not, there’s a widespread series of examples where white authority figures are responsible for the death of black men. Set aside the records or previous guilt of those men and consider how many of them died unnecessarily, and unprovoked. Mississippi Burning highlights that racial divide in our country, and asks us what is justice and what we’re going to do about it.

In one of the final scenes, a man is found hanging in his basement, consumed by guilt. He wasn’t directly responsible for any of the deaths, by the characters discuss how his guilt drove him to suicide. “Maybe we’re all guilty,” one remarks, as they cut his body down. Moments later, an FBI agent greets a woman from the town who has become friendly with, unwittingly putting her in harms way. One tried to do good; one avoided doing evil. But both bear the results of their actions and inaction that they will carry with them indefinitely.

Too often, we can throw our hands up in the air and decry the sins of others. The truth is that we should be considering how what we buy, where we spend our money, who we endorse politically, and how we treat the people we know has an impact on the world we live in. If we are growing to be the kingdom of God, then we have to take active, participatory responsibility. It’s not enough to say, “look, there’s evil over there,” and then avoid it. We must be engaged in making all things new, for those we love and even those we don’t.

Editor’s Note: Weeks after I wrote this, a white man shot and killed nine black churchgoers in the midst of a prayer meeting. The Civil Rights “movement” may be over, but our country has a long way to go in eradicating hate. And only love can do that.

The Best Of Pixar: How 4 Films Changed The Way We Watch

June 15, 2015 by Jacob Sahms Leave a Comment

What if we had never met Dory? Or if Buzz and Woody had never become friends? Would our world be different?

Most of us think that Pixar burst onto the scene with the release of its first feature film in 1995, Toy Story, noting its fifteen Academy Awards coinciding with the partnership with Walt Disney Studios. But the real Pixar Animation Studios originated sixteen years earlier as a division of Lucasfilm, aiding in the special effects for The Wrath of Khan, Young Sherlock Holmes, and others. But when we reflect of the legacy of Pixar, we do so with an eye toward the fourteen feature-length films and its wealth of awards. But what makes these films rise above any others in the animated genre?

With the release of Inside/Out on Friday, a film receiving rave reviews from advance screenings, we should recognize that PIXAR has changed animation, and our expectations for how good a ‘toon’ might look. No more are we stuck with the flat objects on screen, moving around in jerky motions (like those flip books we used to make in elementary school). No, we have real-life motion with toys, bugs, and rats! The thing is though, while we can get caught up in the visual wonders (and there are plenty of those!) that the minds at PIXAR bestow on us, there’s more to this brand of storytelling than the “average animated movie.”

Let’s look at a few of the films that shouldn’t be missed. With apologies to the others (quite honestly, Monsters Inc. is my favorite), here are the five deep PIXAR movies that visually wow us but have more going on under the hood.

Toy Story (1995)

When we’re introduced to Woody (Tom Hanks) and Buzz (Tim Allen), we meet a pair of toys, one old and one new, owned by a six-year-old boy named Andy. Over time, and I’ll cheat a little here by incorporating all three movies, the two foil a bully who destroys toys for fun, a collector who steals Woody, and each other, but it’s their friendship (and bickering) that add much of the fun to the films. We (adults, that is) see something of our own childhoods, recognizing that there’s a time and a place for play, and probably feel a desire to nurture that in our own children (a la The Lego Movie). While other real-life films like The Sandlot or The Goonies might also provide the same sense, there’s a certain amount of magic that the PIXAR crew bottled up here.

For me, the “you had me at hello” moment is in Toy Story 2, when Buzz comes to rescue Woody. Woody has been sort of brainwashed into thinking that being a collectible is all there is to life; he’s forgotten his purpose as a toy to entertain Andy and to be loved. Buzz reminds him that there’s more to the world, and in a moment of clarity, Woody wipes off the new paint from his boot, revealing “ANDY” scrawled across his foot. Like Woody, we can get deluded into believing that “this is all there is,” or that we don’t matter. It often takes an outside force, or someone who God uses, to break through and remind us that we are loved by the God of the universe, that God’s name is written on our hearts and in our DNA.

Finding Nemo (2003)

It’s amazing who you meet on a cross-ocean journey, and better still when that journey is animated by some of the best in the business. While Finding Nemo has some of the typical Disney sadness (Nemo’s mom), there’s still a sense of love, community, and recovery that’s greater than the average two-dimensional animated flick.

While some might say that Dory’s (Ellen DeGeneres) “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming” is the best life advice they’ve ever received from an animated flick, I’ll again refer to the more Biblical tones the story reverberates with: The Parable of the Prodigal Son. Our friend Nemo (Alexander Gould) strays from the safe confines that his father (Albert Brooks) set up for him and ends up netted, transported, and dropped in the dentist’s tank. But his father doesn’t stop searching for Nemo. He just keeps going and going and going, until he’s able to save him. That’s pretty consistent with my understanding of God’s love for us: even when we’re in a mess all on our own, God won’t give up on us.

WALL-E (2008)

Stanton (who also did A Bug’s Life) directs a film I’ll never forget. With a few hours to kill before officiating the wedding of a good friend (who happens to be our site manager here at ScreenFish), my wife and I tripped into the least family-friendly animated flick I’d seen at that point: Wall-E. [Editor’s note: this was before seeing the animated Watership Down…] But the “Waste Allocation Load Lifter – Earth-class,” who sounds a bit like Johnny 5 from Short Circuit, had a profound thing or two to say about childlike wonder, believing in the best of humanity, and never, ever giving up.

Before Tomorrowland and Mad Max: Fury Road proposed that we needed to rejuvenate the community we’re in (and to some extent, the Earth) instead of bolting for some better promised land, Wall-E proposed that the Earth could be cared for if we would all waste less, recycle more, and care about each other. Less jettisoning lifeboat and more life-restoring ark, Wall-E is still not really a kid movie, even if it masquerades behind a wall of eye-popping animation.

Up (2009)

Russell (Jordan Naga), an earnest “Boy Scout” type, and his grumpy, elderly neighbor, Carl Fredricksen (Ed Asner), end up taking a ride via lots of balloons and … a house. While there’s plenty of amusing stuff going on here, this is another film that seems more for the adults than for the kids. Sure, the excitement is worth diving into but there’s plenty of social/psychological commentary going on here.

Carl never lived out his dream because death got in the way; he’s being marginalized and diminished by the people making decisions all around him because of his old age. The overall vibe moves toward the positive, but the power in the story is recognizing the ways that we push people to the side when we think they’ve outlived their usefulness or we don’t understand their pain. What Up pushes us to consider is that we can still learn from our elders even if we think they move too slow or don’t like the new things that we’re into technologically or socially. In fact, we might even propose that understanding our “cloud of witnesses” and embracing mentorship is strongly on the minds of those who created Up.

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So, there you have it. Four movies. Four stories of faith and family, of powerful characters with big challenges, who live out stories that are true to our human experience. “Cartoons?” These are narratives, moving pictures that are bigger than just a throwaway afternoon of entertainment, movies that move us and make us dream, think, and love.

Can Inside/Out join the pantheon of the greats?

I know you won’t all agree. That’s what the comment section is for. What did I miss about your favorite PIXAR film? Show me the error of my ways with your response below!

Hellraiser: Truth In Consequences (ScreamFish)

June 12, 2015 by Jason Norton Leave a Comment

ScreamFish Rule for Living #144: Never Open the Box.

From myth to movie; from Pandora to Rand Peltzer (and we won’t even talk about Detective David Mills–ouch), bungling with boxes always ends badly.

And if you don’t believe me, just go and ask Frank Cotton. He succumbs to the temptation to toy with a box in this week’s feature, Hellraiser, and loses a lot more than just the skin off his nose.

With less turns than a runway model, Frank solves a puzzle box that literally unleashes hell on earth. But your humble narrator has the tough job: he’s got to find a little piece of Heaven in the middle of it all. Can it be done? Stick around to see. It will take some thinking outside of the box, for sure.

Hell.

Since the Middle Ages, the very mention of the word has stirred a common image of fire and brimstone. Due, in large part, to Dante’s vision (and the broad palette of artists who attempted to depict it), the common conception of infinite damnation has been a smorgasbord of flame-broiled torments with n’ere a hint of central air in sight.

In the fall of 1987, horror scribe Clive Barker brought his interpretation of that damnable forever to the silver screen with his first feature film, Hellraiser. And suddenly, an eternity of thousand-degree burns didn’t seem quite so bad.

Based upon his novella, The Hellbound Heart, Barker’s hell-dimension (as it is never really referred to as Hell proper) is decidedly bereft of flame. Instead, there is no spark—no light—at all. If not for the efforts of the cinematographer and lighting team, it would be tough to even see the fun that awaits the damned. The sparsity is only punctuated by one anatomically-inverted globular gatekeeper and a series of chain-wrapped spinning columns, spackled in human flesh.
And then there are the Cenobites.

Led by the aptly named Pinhead (Doug Bradley)–a pasty demonic priest with a noggin that looks like OSHA’s scariest training video–the Cenobites are Hell’s numero uno bounty hunters.

World-hopping womanizer Frank Cotton (Sean Chapman) inadvertently summons Pinhead and his buddies when he solves a Chinese puzzle box he purchased from a shady peddler. Believing the box to be the key to a dimension of unlimited sensual pleasures, pretty boy Frank gets a rude awakening. When he opens the box, the aforementioned hook-chains burst out of it, and rip Frank’s skin from his body. A black-cloaked figure (later revealed as Pinhead) then picks up the box, and clicks it back—Rubik’s Cube-like—to its original shape. Immediately, the carnage in the room disappears.

Frank’s brother, Larry (Andrew Robinson), decides to move back to the family home in the hopes of bettering his marriage to his second wife, Julia (Clare Higgins), and restoring his relationship with his college-age daughter, Kirsty (Ashley Laurence), who has moved in with a friend in order to avoid interaction with Julia. When Larry and Julia arrive at the old homeplace, they find a scattered collection of religious artifacts the Frank has left behind. Frank, of course, is nowhere to be found, but Larry believes his brother is still alive and on the run from the cops. Unbeknownst to Larry, Julia and Frank have enjoyed a torrid affair behind his back.

During the move-in, Larry cuts his hand. He calls out to Julia for help, finding her in the room where Frank died. When Larry’s blood drips onto the floor, it resurrects a skinless Frank (not unlike a Nathan’s hot dog) who bides his time, and shows up when Julia returns to the room alone. He tells her that he was able to escape hell and that by consuming blood, he can be made whole again on the mortal plane. He convinces her to lure men to the house that she later murders, and promises her that they can run away for good once he is fully restored. Little by little, the victims’ blood helps to stitch Frank back together.

Kirsty suspects Julia is having an affair, but gets a bigger surprise when a re-composing Frank attacks. During the skirmish, Kirsty ends up with the box and eventually solves it. When the Cenobites show up, Kirsty tells them that she knows where they can find fugitive Frank and they spare her in order to pursue the bigger bait. But once they bring down some hellish justice on Frank (after he kills not only Larry but Julia, too—don’t ask), Kirsty turns the tables, resetting the box, and sends Pinhead and company back to hell.

There’s no question that Pinhead is the star of Hellraiser, despite the fact that he has much less screen time than his costars. He became the iconic poster boy for the nine-film series (Literally; he is the only figure to grace all of the series’ posters save one, and he’s still the focal point of that one, too). But the real story of the first film is not about Pinhead; it’s about Frank.

Frank’s story is one, not of redemption, but of destruction. And despite the gory creepiness, it is truly a sad allegory about the dangers of a life lived apart from God. Frank has been around the world; he’s seen and tasted all it has had to offer but he still wants more. He continues to feel unfulfilled, but instead of trying to find a better way out, he keeps spiraling further down into the depths of his own private hell.

In Mark 10: 17-27, Jesus is confronted by a wealthy young man demanding to know what he must do to achieve eternal life. When the man says he has fulfilled all the Commandments, Jesus tells him that the secret then, is to give away all he has to the poor. King James tells us that the young man “was sad at that saying, and went away grieved: for he had great possessions.” (Matthew 10: 22) While Frank isn’t looking for eternal life (at least not that he is aware of it), he struggles to fill an insatiable void inside himself. But much like the rich young ruler, he’s unwilling to give up the lifestyle he has become so accustomed to in order to achieve wholeness.

The religious paraphernalia Frank leaves behind in the house indicates that he may have been seeking a higher power, but it is a deathbed confessional defense system. Apparently, Frank didn’t have enough faith in those creations or the Creator to do battle with Pinhead’s cronies. As a stranger in his house, you’d think he was a believer, but Jesus had something to say about that, too.
In Matthew 7: 21-23, Jesus said, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’

Little by little, Frank withers away, becoming a new creation, but not a holy one. Even in death, he is tormented into an unrecognizable monster, devolving further and further away from the beautiful creation he’d once been. And because of his intentional rejection of the straight and narrow, his damnation is unending.

There’s no real happy ending in Hellraiser, nor are there any real heroes or winners per se. But despite the fictitious demons that couldn’t possibly show up in our reality (they couldn’t right?), Hellraiser is a blatantly honest, FX-laden altar call: our actions have consequences, and unless we turn from our wicked ways, we are in for one hell of an eternity.

The Goonies #tbt: Lessons from One-eyed Willie

June 11, 2015 by J. Alan Sharrer Leave a Comment

I mentioned on Facebook a few days ago that The Goonies, one of my favorite films of all time, was about to turn thirty. It seemed to surprise a few people while reminding them of how old they were. Quality movies have a way of acting as friends who we stroll with through life. We quote the lines, we envision the scenes playing out in reality (take the recent escape of two prisoners in New York being likened to The Shawshank Redemption by the media), and we develop a fondness of certain characters—quirks and all.

The Goonies is no different in this case.

You probably know the plot already, but here’s a quick synopsis: In the town of Astoria, there are a rather eclectic bunch of kids who wonder what the future holds for them and their families. One rainy day, Mikey is at home with his friends Mouth (a jokester fluent in Spanish—just ask Rosalinda), Data (inventor of wacky contraptions that work irregularly), and Chunk (a certifiable klutz often harassed by Mouth). Since the house is about to be razed to make room for a golf course, they decide to take a look inside Mikey’s attic and discover a bunch of ancient artifacts of the town and a treasure map. When the guys want to try to find out if the map is real or not, Mikey’s brother, Brand, tries to shut the operation down, but to no avail. He later finds himself (along with Andy and Stef) caught up in the search for One-Eyed Willie’s ‘rich stuff’ while trying to avoid a trio of chronic criminals known as the Fratellis. Throw in some Indiana Jones-esque booby traps (after all, Steven Spielberg had a hand in the film), Sloth, and a pirate ship, and you’ve got the makings for a film that has withstood the test of time.

I rewatched The Goonies last weekend with my teenage daughter and realized that a good story trumps cinematography tricks and fancy CGI any day. This film was pretty cutting-edge at the time with a pirate ship, skeleton organ, waterslide tunnel, and music video that helped to propel Cyndi Lauper to stardom. Now…not so much. Thankfully, director Richard Donner decided to cut the octopus scene, as the special effects are laughable–though Data refers to it at the end of the story. But the kids’ life-changing journey is still pretty harrowing (just ask Chunk about the blender) and holds many things that we can take and apply to real life.

In the DVD commentary, which I highly recommend, it’s revealed that Donner wanted to make sure he got the best possible reaction from the kids at all times—even if it meant handling the script in an unorthodox manner. After Andy plays the bones, the group slides down an incredible waterslide and lands in an underground lake. Only at that point were the actors and actresses allowed to see the pirate ship for the first time. The cameras were rolling for their reaction: one that was genuine, unreleased, and what the audience sees in the film. To this end, there are many situations we face in life where we’re unable to see the final outcome immediately. We have to trust, with a measure of faith (see Hebrews 11:1), that God knows better than our finite minds and plans. On many occasions, the end result can leave us amazed and awed at how much better His ways are than ours (see Isaiah 55:8-9). We just have to be willing to wait and be patient.

The concept of temptation is brought to life by the film through the wishing well scene. The crew is given the option by Troy, a high school jock trying to make it big with Andy, to end the quest by riding up the bucket he lowers to them. After Mikey gives his “Our Time” speech (See? The film is so old that I’m even giving speeches titles!), Andy chooses to send up Troy’s jacket instead.

There are many times in life where we have the chance to give up on something incredible by stopping the journey too soon. Perhaps we’re in the middle of something that we know we’re supposed to be doing, but something unforeseen steps in the way, threatening to divert us from the goal lying ahead. This is when it’s important to remember that nothing has tempted us that hasn’t tempted someone else at some point in time. Besides, God is faithful to not let you deal with stuff you can’t handle (see 1 Corinthians 10:13). The goal is to keep focusing on the eventual reward and not allow oneself to succumb to immediate gratifications, no matter how enticing or enthralling they may seem. Remember that Jesus overcame every temptation thrown His way—yet did it without sin. This provided us a way–through His life, death, and resurrection–to be reunited with God forever (see Hebrews 4:14-16).

A third point of discussion comes in the area of greed. The Goonies were the first to get to One-Eyed Willie’s riches and began acquiring as much loot as they could carry. Data saw a scale filled with coins and grabbed a few, only to have Mikey tell him that gold was for Willie and to leave it. Later on, the Fratellis plunder the same room–only this time, Mama lifts the scale and sets off a booby trap that causes the ship to set sail one last time.

It’s easy to see why people want as much as they can—after all, some people just seem to be born with whatever they want, whenever and however they want it. Sometimes this involves money, but it can also involve houses, cars, attention, status, power, number of Twitter followers, and the list goes on and on. Yet Jesus gave His disciples a specific warning about this in Luke 12:15 (NIV): “’Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possessions.’” We don’t get to keep anything gained on earth when this life is over—even if we’re an A-List celebrity. The happiest people are often those who are simply content with what they have and nothing more. Our star-struck society needs to learn this lesson sooner rather than later.

If you have access to a copy of The Goonies, you should watch it soon. The rich lessons you see on screen will help to make you a better person in real life.

Nobody can take that away from you–even the Fratellis.

Jurassic Park III: When the Magic is (Almost) Missing

June 9, 2015 by Steve Norton Leave a Comment

“With the best intentions? Some of the worst things imaginable were done with the best intentions.” – Dr. Alan Grant

After years of panning from critics and fans, there are many who would argue that the above quote best sums up the entirety of Jurassic Park III.

I am not one of them.

Personally, I have always found Jurassic Park III to be an enjoyable sequel that seeks earnestly to recapture the thrills and wonder of the original film.

Well, mostly…

With Spielberg relegated to the executive producer’s chair, Jurassic Park III was directed by Joe Johnston (Captain America: The First Avenger) and sees the return of Dr. Alan Grant (Sam Neill). Having put the events of the first film behind him, Alan happily declares that nothing could ever get him to return. Nothing, that is, until he is tricked into leading a guided tour of Isla Sorna—the second island—by Paul and Amanda Kirby. Soon after they land, Alan realizes that he is not leading an exotic expedition but rather a search-and-rescue operation on an island that he has never seen before.

In a lot of ways, Jurassic Park III feels like the movie that should have been made instead of The Lost World. Within it, there’s little question that every effort was made to reclaim the magic of the first film. Relegated to brief predators in The Lost World, the raptors are relevant again. They manage to create a new menace in the Spinosaurus. Alan’s return gives the film a much-needed balance between professionalism and protector that (bless his heart) is missing from Goldblum’s erratic chaos theorist. Even the pterodactyls finally make an appearance, after their tease at the end of Jurassic Park. Yes, it’s hardly the perfect film. Still, JPIII does seem to undo some of the damage done by the first sequel and at least rekindles some of the magic that was missing from the franchise.

However, my primary issue with the film isn’t with the special effects, the plot, or the sense of adventure that it offers. JPIII does bring what’s necessary to give you a fun ride. I feel the film is lacking in its lack of soul. While the first film grappled with what happens when man tries to play God and the second film attempted (ultimately failing… but attempted) to examine some issues of oppression, Jurassic Park III lacks any real effort to bring us something more. While it does manage to link the theme of parenting between the Kirbys and the raptors themselves, there isn’t much further exploration into any specific idea or theme.

How interesting would it have been to really explore and compare the idea of relationships amongst humans and their similarities to other species? Or what about the sacrifices that one is willing to do as a parent in the name of love? These themes, amongst many others, were ripe for exploring and would have invited some fascinating spiritual conversation… yet JPIII falls short in this area. (Incidentally, this is also the only film in the series to include a number in the title, something that I believe is significant by revealing that it may not be much more than a sequel.)

With this in mind, though I do have a special place in my heart for Jurassic Park III, it did signify that Universal really didn’t know where else to take this franchise at the time. While still a fun ride that doesn’t deserve the flack that it often gets, the film doesn’t really offer much more that sits with you after the credits have rolled.

Even if it was made with the best of intentions.

Project Almanac: Be Present Today

June 9, 2015 by Jason Stanley Leave a Comment

Project Almanac has the vibe of a Blair Witch Project or Cloverfield film. Most of the film is from the perspective of a handheld video camera, smart phone, or GoPro. This time, the sci-fi genre adds time travel to the mix.

David (Jonny Weston) is a smart, clean-cut high school student, complete with the Harry Potter-glasses. Achieving his goal of getting accepted to MIT, David, along with his friends and sister (Ginny Gardner) decide to conduct an experiment in film, hoping to win a scholarship. They discover some old documents from David’s deceased father, who was a scientist, along with an old, vintage camcorder . . . . from 2004.

The camcorder holds video of David’s seventh birthday party at his home. It’s the same day that his father dies in a car accident. David discovers that his current, seventeen-year-old self can be seen in a mirror. This sends David and his friends, Adam (Allen Evangelista) and Quinn (Sam Lerner), to the basement where they find instructions – Project Almanac – to build a time machine.

They build the time machine and after a series of failed trials, it works. What follows is a bit predictable. The teens use this new found ability to travel back and forth through time to score higher grades on assignments, win the lottery, and more.

First-time director Dean Israelite does a decent job, though the film would have been just as good, maybe better, without the found footage format. It is not choppy like other found footage films. It lacks full, first-person perspective. Not to mention that it is seemingly impossible that every aspect of this film was . . .filmed. Take when David travels through time by himself. It’s possible/believable that he is filming what he sees. But when the perspective shifts, for example, in the high school storage room right before he time jumps again, who is holding the camera then?

It doesn’t need the first-person, character camera-holding to make the film. The film stands alone without all that. Not to mention the touches most likely influenced by one of its producers – Michael Bay. Bay manages to add his own touch to the film as a producer. The only thing it lacked was an appearance by Megan Fox.

With all the time travel that the teens do, present day events end up changing. David goes from high school nerd to mad scientist. He travels through time on his own for purely selfish reasons, impacting his community and the world in ways he never imagined. They have to go back in time to fix the things they did so the present would not be affected.

David comes to realize that perhaps the time machine is not a gift. When in back in time, he tells his father they “shouldn’t play God.” David destroys the heart of the time machine to remove the temptation to change what was or what will be for selfish gain.

How often do we find ourselves clinging to the past or longing to go back in time? Perhaps things were simpler back then, calmer, less chaotic, and easier to deal with. Perhaps the past is where all the answers lie. Perhaps. But we are in the present. And the present is a gift from God.

We cannot go back in time, but we can be present in the present. I think H. G. Wells would approve.

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Mississippi Burning: Taking Action #TBT

The Best Of Pixar: How 4 Films Changed The Way We Watch

Hellraiser: Truth In Consequences (ScreamFish)

The Goonies #tbt: Lessons from One-eyed Willie

Jurassic Park III: When the Magic is (Almost) Missing

Project Almanac: Be Present Today

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