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Ethan Hawke

The Black Phone: Answering the Call to Fight Back

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Set in a suburban town in Colorado back in 1978, The Black Phone begins as five children go missing. A mysterious (and presumed) serial killer that targets children–who the media calls ‘The Grabber’–is on the loose and abducting children one-by-one in the area. For his 6th victim, The Grabber abducts Finney Shaw, a clever but weak 13-year-old that’s frequently bullied. Trapped in a sound proof basement by the sociopathic lunatic, Finney needs to get out of his prison as quickly as possible. However, when a seemingly disconnected black phone keeps calling him, he learns that the mysterious callers are, in fact, the Grabbers previous captives with a plan to help him escape.

(from left) The Grabber (Ethan Hawke) and Finney Shaw (Mason Thames) in The Black Phone, directed by Scott Derrickson.

Directed by Scott Derrickson, The Black Phone presents itself as a horror movie with an interesting premise but it’s really about overcoming your fears and standing up for yourself. Constantly getting beat up throughout the film, Finney always takes the abuse without fighting back. (In fact, his friend and even his little sister have to be the ones that fight his battles for him.) As a representation of the ultimate bully, The Grabber only picks on those who are much weaker than him to be his victims, tormenting them for his amusement. When the time comes, Finney has no other option but to stand up to The Grabber. However, in order to fight back, he must use all of the tools and knowledge of the previous victims to defeat his bully and set himself free.

Mason Thames as Finney Shaw in The Black Phone, directed by Scott Derrickson.

Personally, I really loved how they went about the horror and premise of the movie. By using a lunatic abductor as the villain, Derrickson gives a sense of realism to the film as this could easily happen to anyone. Trapped in a small confined space, the film has maintains an eerie claustrophobic feel. (A sense that’s further emphasized by Finney’s reliance on the Grabber for food.) What’s most shocking about the film is the effectiveness of its fight scenes. Inspired by The Karate Kid, the hits are surprisingly heavy with a lot of weight to them, allowing the violence to feel satisfying in the end.

At the same time, although the film seems grounded, The Black Phone also has a supernatural influence to it that should engage horror fans. With each call from those who died at the hand of the Grabber, Finney taps into their power and influence. As a result, the film feel feels almost as though The Grabber is the final boss in a video game and Finney is using tips from the other dead children to ‘level up’.

(from left) Vance Hopper (Brady Hepner) and Finney Shaw (Mason Thames) in The Black Phone, directed by Scott Derrickson.

In many ways, Black Phone becomes really inspirational as it gives anyone who’s ever been bullied the motivation to fight back. As the film builds to its cathartic finale, it’s hard not to empathize with (or even relate to) Finney. One cannot help but put themselves in his shoes as he finds the strength to stand up to his kidnapper.

Derrickson has always been a master of horror and it shows here. Balancing both ‘realistic’ and ‘supernatural’ horror, The Black Phone proves to be a solid horror film with a satisfying ending. In short, this is definitely one scare-fest that will Grab you.

The Black Phone is available in theatres on Friday, June 24th, 2022.

Moon Knight: Marvel’s Wildest Experiment… and it Works

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Once again, Marvel has proven that they aren’t the most successful franchise in history by accident. With each entry into their massive (and ever-expanding) canon, they continue to flex their influence by releasing increasingly risky characters and stories that somehow still fit their brand.

A world entirely translated by generations of television.

Multiple Spider-Men from the past 20 years of film franchises.

A giant purple titan who wields an all-powerful gauntlet.

No matter how (doctor) strange their continuity becomes, Marvel somehow manages to make it work. (Yes, there are franchises that are better than others… but the percentage of quality in their cinematic storytelling is surprisingly high, especially considering how long they’ve been doing this.)

Now, here comes what is arguably the most insane story of all: Moon Knight.

Streaming on Disney+, Moon Knight tells the story of Steven Grant, a mild-mannered gift shop employee who is struggling with bizarre dreams. Every night, he fears falling asleep as he finds himself transported to exotic locations and dangerous situations. As his dreams begin to blur with reality, Steven discovers his inner mercenary (literally) as an alternate persona known as Marc Spector battles for control of his body. Fierce and ferocious, Spector is under the servitude of the Egyptian god, Khonshu, who demands that he fight on his behalf. As Steven/Marc begin to unravel their complicated relationship, so too must they defend themselves against a mysterious Arthur Harrow (Ethan Hawke), an acolye of the goddess Ammit.

Moon Knight is ridiculous on almost every level… but it’s also ridiculously fun

Spearheaded by Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead, Moon Knight is stylish and well-executed. Billed as a ‘horror comedy’, the series is a wild blend of the terrifying and goofy. Known for their work on Synchronic and She Dies Tomorrow, Moorehead and Benson have a background in psychological horror and the put those talents to work here. Flashing hallways, demonic jackals and psychological breakdowns all work together create an unsettling atmosphere of terror. However, the best example of their horror influence comes through the depiction of Khonshu. Voiced by F. Murray Abraham, Khonshu’s bird skull and long, bony physique pushes the boundaries of what Marvel has offered by creating an intimating ghostly figure that ominously follows Spector/Grant. (Note to parents, while it keeps to its PG rating, this image may intimidate younger ones so use caution.)

At the same time though, Knight is also genuinely funny. Although the series features Marvel’s trademark silliness (such as a car chase in a cupcake truck), much of the credit here falls on a stellar performance by Isaac who is absolutely erratic as the psychologically-divided hero. From the Coen Brothers to Star Wars, Isaacs has always been willing to balance his independent work with big franchises. 

But his performance in Moon Knight is truly unique.

As Marc Spector, Isaac is allow to engage his dark side. A mercenary indebted to Khonshu, Spector remains calm, collected and often brutal. However, as Steven Grant, Isaac is practically bouncing off the walls with erratic energy. Armed with a British accent and high anxiety, Grant is constantly in motion as he attempts to figure out what’s taking place around—and within—him. Together, Spector/Grant have a tension reminiscent of the Hulk & Banner as both men battle for control of the same person. When you add in the demanding demonic voice of Khonshu, Disney has invariably created an ‘Odd Throuple’ with each persona attempting to dominate the other. (In fact, the relationship between these characters echoes Sony’s recent rom-com superhero franchise Venom which features a similar silliness between Eddie Brock and his alien symbiote.)

At its heart, Moon Knight feels interested in addressing the nature of justice. Whereas Spector is more than prepared to exact vengeance and violence when called upon, Grant has a gentler approach. To Grant, violence is never the answer and there is always a better way to solve his problems. However, Spector’s strength is often required in order to defeat the baddies that go bump in the night. There is a tension between their styles that creates some interesting conversations about the definition of justice and what sorts of methods are required. (Admittedly, Knight often favours Spector’s brutality as necessary yet, as the series progresses, one gets the sense that Grant’s humility will become important to Spector’s growth.)

Held in juxtaposition to this internal battle is the villainous Harrow who believes that the sins of man require judgment. Committed to the goddess Ammit, Harrow believes that humanity can be judged for actions that they haven’t yet been committed if there is darkness in their hearts. Whether it’s an elderly woman or infants, Harrow is relentless in his belief that those who (may) create suffering should be eliminated before they have the chance to do so. 

When held up against Spector/Grant, the series creates some space for what it truly means to create a safe space for others. To Harrow, man’s sins are inevitable and therefore justifiably erased. For Grant, man cannot be blamed until the actions come to life and then invited to change. Finally, Spector argues that those who threaten peace are justifiably stopped by any means necessary. Between the three of voices, the series highlights the breadth of opinions on justice and tries to hold them all in tension together.

How Moon Knight fits in with Marvel continuity is not yet known. Set in its own space and time, Knight very much feels like a standalone series. (Although, it’s fair to say that we know that’s not the case. Nothing in Marvel ever exits on its own.) However, anchored by a phenomenal performance by Isaac, Knight manages to carve itself its own corner of the Marvel Universe. Once again, Marvel has taken an insane premise and created something infinitely watchable and engaging.

Somehow, they’ve managed to let this Knight shine.

Moon Knight begins streaming on Disney+ on Thursday, March 31st, 2022.

Zeros and Ones: Ethan Hawke is Seeing Double

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In Zeros and Ones, a movie about a terrorist plot that the audience never quite catches up to, Ethan Hawke plays JJ, a soldier trying to stop said plot, and Justin, JJ’s twin brother who seems to be behind the plot. But in Abel Ferrara’s film, which he wrote and directed, the mood is more important than the details, and the journey is definitely supposed to be more important than the outcome.

Through a darkened, unsteady lens, the audience watches JJ explore Rome, visit a nearly deserted Vatican, and experience life in the midst of a pandemic (although COVID is not named). But the exploration of the terrorist plot isn’t linear. Somehow, JJ ends up with prostitutes who get … involved, and then he’s forced to have sex with a woman while held at gunpoint. (Do these things really happen? It seems like Ferrara is just aimed at ridiculous smuttiness.)

While I’ll openly admit that I’m not sure either where we went or where we ended up, it’s helpful to know that this is the first film where a star recorded a message to the audience before and after, admitting it’s confusing, praising the director, and genuinely seeming to ask the audience to like the film. I like Hawke’s films mostly, but not this one. Honestly, I’m still not sure what to think of it, other than to realize it was made with a blurring of reality in the middle of a pandemic.

Maybe it’s supposed to be funny, or insightful. Maybe that’s why JJ uses hand sanitizer but gets exposed to STDs. Maybe it’s not supposed to make any sense at all. But the end result seems more art house than entertaining, more private insider joke than an invitation to go along for a ride.

Either way, seeing two Hawkes on screen doesn’t mean it’s twice as good.

Zeros and Ones is now available on VOD.

Cut Throat City: Breaking Free from a Broken System

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Set in the Lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans, Cut Throat City follows the young artist, Blink (Shameik Moore). Newly married and with an ambitious future, Blink is excited to start a new life. However, after Hurricane Katrina reduced their city to nothing, Blink and his friends are struggling to look for answers. With no employment opportunities and muddled government assistance, Blink and his crew turn to a local gangster (Tip ‘T.I.’ Harris) who gives them a chance to turn their fortunes around by pulling of a dangerous heist. When the job turns sour, the four young men are forced to run for their lives, yearning to return home while being pursued by both police and an angry criminal warlord.

Featuring a cast that includes Terrance Howard, Ethan Hawke, Isaiah Washington and an almost unrecognizable Wesley Snipes, Cut Throat City has some impressive names in the marquis to help market the film. Ultimately, however, the success of Cut Throat lies at the feet of its young four stars, especially that of relative newcomer Shameik Moore who shines. As Blink, Moore carries much of the emotional weight of the film on his shoulders and he rises to the occasion in his performance. 

What’s more, while RZA has spent the majority of his career in front of the camera, he shows some particularly confident work in the director’s chair here by letting his cast take the stage. With a film this gritty and unrelenting, the temptation would be to portray the rage-fueled culture by highlighting the violence onscreen. However, rather than overwhelm the audience with over-the-top action pieces, RZA’s mostly economical use of the camera allows the characters to step out in front, leading to more effective story-telling overall. 

Feeding the drama of Cut Throat is its poignant story about the underlying effects of Hurricane Katrina on the population of New Orleans. Like the people within its borders, New Orleans was (and is) a city that has never recovered from the devastating effects of the infamous hurricane. Although the US government pledged help to those who were suffering as a result of the disaster, their efforts simply were not enough to prevent the criminal underworld from taking hold of the decimation. Caught between lack of jobs and bureaucratic red tape, low income survivors such as Blink found themselves torn between criminal activity and starving to death. While characters yearn for the ‘new New Orleans’ like some renewed vision of the American Dream, the reality for families in the Lower Ninth district is that that many of them felt abandoned by a government that remained too far removed from the situation to make any real difference. As a result, while Blink may have turned to a life of criminal activity, Cut Throat also views his journey with eyes of sympathy and grace.

With that in mind, there is a potentially redemptive storyline within Cut Throat that highlights the value of young men like Blink. Viewed as a ‘good young man’, there are many who reach out to help him, despite the overwhelming odds against him. Even so, despite the value that others see in him, the most heart-wrenching aspect of the film is that it recognizes the difficulty of breaking out of the cycle of violence, especially when the system itself remains unchanged. In this way, Cut Throat acknowledges that the systems set up to help often reinforce the very problems they seek to eliminate. While organizations such as FEMA were created to offer help to the people suffering on the ground, they also often make things more difficult for the population along the way. Fighting to break free from an unjust system, Blink’s tragic journey becomes an example of the plight of so many who remain affected by not only Katrina but any widespread social trauma.

Though Cut Throat City isn’t a film that you’ll likely hear about in wide release, that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth your time. By taking us into the vicious underworld of New Orleans, RZA also spins a narrative that feels important. By calling for justice in the midst of social pain, Cut Throat City serves as a reminder that, sometimes, hope simply feels unreachable in the face of a cruel system.

Cut Throat City is available on demand. 

Tesla: Alternating History

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As one of the more iconic voices in scientific history, the impact of the work of Nikola Tesla has been felt for generations. Without question, his discovery of alternating current and the connection between energy and matter were far ahead of their time. As a result, the mere mention of his name seems to suggest creativity and innovation.

But how well do you really know him?

In Tesla, Ethan Hawke plays the visionary 19th Century inventor, Nikola Tesla. After having first discovered electricity by petting his cat as a young boy, Tesla sought to reinvent the way that we understand electric current. Initially working with Edison himself (Kyle MacLachlan), Tesla’s views caused tension between them, eventually leading to their parting ways and competing against one another. As Tesla’s notoriety grew, he continued to push the boundaries of science on a never-ending quest to create worldwide wireless energy. However, in doing so, he also puts himself into serious financial difficulty and created more conflict with the scientific community along the way.

Written and directed by Michael Almereyda, the film feels like somewhat of a fever dream, blending fantastical and theatrical elements into their vision of reality. As a historical figure, Tesla remains someone of a mythic presence with very little specifics known about him. (The film notes that, by Googling him, you’ll likely only find three pictures repeated over and over.) As such, Almereyda’s use of non-traditional cinematic devices shroud the man in mystery. Standing rather obviously in front of a green screen removes him from reality yet furthers the narrative. In addition, by bathing him in colour (or shadow), Almereyda places his subject in an alternate reality. Whether Tesla is having an ice cream fight with Thomas Edison or bursts out into a performance of Tears for Fears’ ‘Everybody Wants to Rule the World’, Almereyda is unafraid to push the boundaries of historical biographies in an effort to blur the lines between fact and fiction.

In doing so, Tesla can be a jarring experience that never allows you to get too comfortable within the story. Even so, it can also be fascinating to watch, primarily due to Hawke himself. As with every role he takes on, Hawke immerses himself in Tesla, imbuing the character with quiet energy. Amidst Almereyda’s wild images, Hawke portrays the wild visionary as a man out of time. Though he would affect the future, he was not always able to interact well with the present. Despite the fact that he was far from a recluse, Hawke highlights the obsessive nature of his personality in such a way that he seems unable to fully connect with those around, always thinking about his research in the back of his mind.

As it unravels (or reinforces) the mystery that is Nikola Telsa, Almereyda’s film also speaks to the flawed ways that we tell our stories. Told primarily through the perspective of Tesla’s ex-paramour, Anne Morgan, the viewer understands that her experience of him shapes her re-telling of history. Though there are moments where he is held in high regard, Tesla’s flaws are also exposed in such a way that we know that both have been shaped by her attempts to understand him. 

Similarly, Tesla takes the story of its subject and recognizes that our view of history is always filtered by our perspectives. Without more information or personal experience, Tesla himself will always remain somewhat of an enigma in our minds, filtered through our view of him as either innovator or madman. Should Tesla be known as the man who revolutionized the scientific world? Is he the eccentric that believed he’d spoken with people from Mars? Or a messy combination of both? Regardless of our position, our personal biases will filter our opinion of him.

Though I would be hard-pressed to say that Tesla is electrifying, Hawke’s performance is suitably charged up enough to maintain your interest. Through his use of unexpected cinematic devices, Almereyda’s film is as unique as Tesla himself, playing with reality as much as it wants to share the truth with you. This is a film that seeks not to dispel the legends of a mysterious man but to allow that mythology to shape your understanding of his life and impact.

Tesla is available on VOD now.

Saturday at AFI Fest 2019

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The second day of AFI Fest Presented by Audi, was another day filled with interesting and powerful films. The odd thing about being at Hollywood and Highland this year is that since the Egyptian Theater down the street isn’t being used this year, I have no reason (or desire) to descend to street level and the mass of tourists and hawkers on Hollywood Boulevard. I’m up two floors higher where I can look down from my own little world (or perhaps it’s an ivory tower).

Hirokazu Kore-eda is one of my favorite directors. His hallmark is films about relationships—especially family relationships. The Truth is his first film made outside of Japan. That gave me some worries that he might have trouble portraying a different culture, but he’s done a wonderful job. Fabienne (Catherine Deneuve), an aging actress, has just published her memoir. Her daughter Lumir (Juliette Binoche) has returned with her family (including her husband Hank [Ethan Hawke]) after many years in America to celebrate her book—but also to criticize her mother for the falsehoods about their relationship, which was pretty non-existent. A recurring line is “Memory can’t be trusted.” When Fabienne’s major domo suddenly quits after years of being taken for granted, he convinces Lumir to stay around through the next film Fabienne is making—a story of a mother and daughter who rarely see each other. It is a story of memories—real and imagined. It is also a story that delves into the parent/child relationship in the unique way Kore-eda has of exposing love that may not be what we expect.

Kazik Radwanski’s Anne at 13,000 Ft is a very up-close look at a young woman struggling to understand who she is. Anne (Deragh Campbell) is a daycare teacher in Toronto who is hardly more mature or responsible than the children she oversees. After going skydiving (a tandem jump) on a bachelorette party, she wants more than anything to get to where she can do it solo. But as we watch her at work, or in various relationships, we see not only childishness, but also perhaps a bit of bi-polar style personality problems. As the film moves along, we see her less as someone we are comfortable with and more someone we know is at a breaking point. Will skydiving give her the freedom and control she desires or will it be too much for her to handle?

In Song Without a Name (Canción Sin Nombre) from director Melina León, Georgina (Pamela Mendoza),a young indigenous woman in 1988 Peru, is lured to a clinic with the offer of free maternity care. But after she delivers her daughter, the child disappears. Itinerant clinic would steal the babies of poor women to sell for adoption abroad. The police are unresponsive, in part because the poor women are seen as worthless. (When Georgina first goes to the clinic there are children jumping rope to the chant “Singled, married, widowed, divorced. Mother or not, you are worthless.”) In desperations she turns to a journalist to investigate in hopes of having her child returned. The start black and white cinematography emphasizes the dreariness of the story and of Georgina’s life. Her life is visualized on screen by hills and stairs—she is always struggling to get anywhere, but she must persist.

Juliet, Naked: Running from Grace

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Directed by Jesse Peretz (Our Idiot Brother, Girls), Juliet, Naked tells the story of Annie (Rose Byrne), a young woman stuck in a dead-end, long-term relationship with an obsessive fan of obscure rocker Tucker Crowe (Ethan Hawke). When the acoustic demo of Tucker’s hit record from 25 years ago surfaces, its release leads Annie to a life-changing encounter with the elusive rocker himself.

Based on the book by Nick Hornby, Juliet, Naked fits well into his repertoire by discovering the film’s soul within the heart of music. Like other entries into his canon such as About a Boy or High Fidelity, Juliet searches for life’s meaning through the relationship between love and song. Somewhat ironically, while the film’s title stems from the name of Crowe’s acoustic album, the film features very little music but, rather, puts the focus on the meaning behind the artist more than his art.

While performances by Rose Byrne and the entire cast are strong, the standout of the film remains Hawke as the mysteriously malfunctioning Crowe. Burnt out and broken, Crowe is a man who struggles to accept responsibility as he floats somewhat aimlessly through his life. In many ways, Crowe could be the modern-day vision of Hawke’s iconic Troy Dyer from 1994’s Reality Bites as he looks back on his recklessness with regret and pain. However, like Dyer, Crowe is also charismatic, despite his flaws. With Hawke’s ability to imbue even the most damaged characters with empathy, Crowe is both charming and elusive. He is broken but we view him with hope.

Interestingly, one of the key elements to Crowe’s backstory lies in the identity of Grace, a shadowy woman from his past. At the mere mention of her name, Crowe bristles with anxiety, revealing a pain deeper than the rest. Is she a former lover? A long-lost family member? Until her identity is eventually revealed, the audience watches as Crowe does everything in his power to forget her and move on. Despite his many mistakes and broken relationships that he has left in his wake, hers is the name that terrifies him the most.

As a result, the identity of this stranger leads to a beautiful conflict within Crowe. As he seeks to avoid confronting Grace, we also recognize that her name has thematic significance as well. For Crowe, redemption and healing are out of reach. To him, his life has yet to experience the concept of grace in a way that carries any meaning for him. Even more so, just like Grace herself, he continues to run from it. Although Annie recognizes his value stems from more than his music, Crowe struggles to accept the one thing that he fears the most… grace itself. In other words, Crowe’s inability to face his past (or himself) appears to stem from the idea that he somehow does not deserve forgiveness from his indiscretions. Like many of us, his hurt feels overwhelming with grace unable to tip the balance. (Though, isn’t that the very nature of Divine grace? That we are worthy to be loved despite our brokenness?)

It should be noted that, despite these explorations of Crowe’s brokenness, Juliet, Naked is actually fairly light-hearted in tone. While the film does paint a portrait of a man in desperate need of healing, Hawke’s charm, Byrne’s endearing nature and some solid laughs from supporting characters give the film the energy it needs. In the end, however, the soul of the film lies in a man who is running from grace.

Juliet, Naked is in theatres on Friday, August 31st, 2018.

First Reformed – A Pastor’s Dark Night of the Soul

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“Will God forgive us?”

A pastor’s grief, guilt, and growing crisis of faith gives rise to First Reformed, from writer-director Paul Schrader. Schrader has delved into faith before in films like Hardcore and The Last Temptation of Christ (for which he wrote the screenplay). He has also sought to plumb the dark places of life with scripts such as Taxi Driver and Raging Bull. In First Reformed all of this comes together.

Ernst Toller (Ethan Hawke) is the pastor of a historic church in upstate New York. It is now little more than a tourist stop with a very small congregation. The church operates under the auspices of a nearby megachurch, Abundant Life. After church one Sunday, Mary (Amanda Seyfried), asks Toller to counsel her husband Michael (Philip Ettinger) who is severely depressed over environmental issues. Although Toller tries to lead Michael to see hope, eventually Michael succumbs to his despair. This adds to Toller’s already dark mood.

Toller had been a military chaplain and had encouraged his son to go into the military as well. After his son was killed in Iraq, Toller has lived with guilt and seems to be trying to live a life of penance. He lives a Spartan existence and seems to put off any who would seek to care for him—especially the choir director at Abundant Live (Victoria Hill) who carries a torch for him. The only person he can find any connection with in his world of darkness is Mary. As Toller’s mood continues to spiral down and his health seems to be failing as well, he decides to take a drastic action to bring attention to the environmental issues that concerned Michael.

At one level, First Reformed is a study of a crisis in faith faced by an individual. Toller’s struggle with guilt over his son, a pessimism about where the world is headed, and his failure to find happiness in life seems to have cut Toller off from any sense of God. As he journals (which we often hear in voice over) Toller says the things he writes are much like the things he says to God “when he is listening.” Through all this he must continue to serve the church week after week.

But this film also raises the question of how is the church to act faithfully in a world facing crises. Toller’s little church is about to celebrate its 250th anniversary and Abundant Life is planning a big event. One of the biggest donors is Edward Balq, an industrialist who doesn’t want global warming or the environment talked about. He wants to make sure politics are avoided in the anniversary celebration. Toller is beginning to question how the church cannot be involved in such issues. It falls on Abundant Life senior pastor, Pastor Jeffers (Cedric Kyles) to try to keep Toller in line.

What of the question of political issues in church? It should be noted that First Reformed was a waystation on the Underground Railroad. Obviously political issues have mattered here in the past. But Jeffers, although appreciating where Toller is coming from, must also try to appease those who give generously to the church. This can often be a struggle for those who believe that God’s message speaks to many of the woes that face the world. There are always those who do not want the prophetic voice of the church to be heard.

Pastor Toller’s spiritual anguish, I think, is an exaggeration of a malaise that afflicts much of the church and society. It is not a lack of faith (either for Toller or the church at large). We become so overwhelmed by the griefs and pains of life that we feel paralyzed to address the deep needs of the world around us. After all, we can barely deal with our own problems as we watch the church seeming to be in a death spiral of its own and society falling apart in anger, crudeness, and incivility. This film speaks to the struggle of how to live out the faith we hold to in a time that challenges our faith and values.

Photos courtesy of A24

The Broken Church: 1on1 with Cedric the Entertainer (FIRST REFORMED)

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First Reformed tells the story of Toller (Ethan Hawke), a former military veteran and pastor of the First Reformed Church.  Preparing to celebrate their 250th anniversary, the church has become largely ceremonial, with most parishioners having moved over to the local megachurch, led by charismatic Pastor Jeffers (Cedric the Entertainer). When tragedy strikes, Toller finds himself torn between counseling the victim’s grieving widow (Amanda Seyfried) and his own creeping personal issues. Although he’s most frequently viewed as a comedian, veteran actor Cedric the Entertainer handles the role of Pastor Jeffers with strength and humanity. When asked what interested him in this role, he insists that it was opportunity to explore his dramatic side and, more importantly, to work with legendary writer/director Paul Schrader that led him to the film.

“For me, it was the opportunity to work with such a legendary writer and director in Paul Schrader,” he starts. “[Also], when someone asks to cast me out of a comedy movie–and it’s not a comedy, you know, it’s a dramatic role–it’s always something because I have a theatrical background, even though I built my brand as this comedian. I love to get on the screen and find things and really dig into a character. So, this was a break to be able to work with Ethan Hawke and then with Paul as well. I didn’t have any scenes with Amanda, but she was there.”

In fact, what most excited Cedric about the chance to work with the legendary director was Schrader’s ability to find depth in the humanity of his characters.

“In this particular script, it is the kind of empathy that he’s able to find in the despair and discovery that people have as human beings,” he reflects. “Right when we’re the most confident, we’re also the most vulnerable. Right when we should be at our greatest, we can easily on the turn of a dime be at our lowest. There was something about this [film] where…  religion in this movie was the main backdrop–the spiritual life–yet he kind of pulled the layer back, even [in] Ethan Hawke’s character, who’s going through a lot. But my character [is] playing a pastor of a big megachurch, where we got thirty thousand followers, and church is being held at the old basketball theater. Why is that necessary for my spiritual existence, right?”

“And now to see [Toller and say], I believe in this guy, trust this guy and put my faith in him. Then I kind of pull back the layer and remind him that it’s a business. [My character]’s got corporate donors and he’s listening to them over what we want to do. That’s really real and that’s when you do question all of these things that we have to live within the world that are these kind of big tent poles of religion or politics, education and medicine. We kind of just follow along them, knowing that we’re kind of being guided by this big corporate idea of what it is and we tell you what you believe. That was an interesting thing to play.”

In Reformed, Cedric plays Pastor Jeffers, the jovial but burdened minister at the Abundant Life megachurch. In preparation for the role, Cedric went to speak with several well-known megachurch pastors in order to find out how they manage the balance between spiritual leader and corporate figurehead.

“I’m friends with Bishop TD Jakes, who has a huge church with a big following, and also great friends with another minister in St Louis, Freddy Clark. We would sit and just kind of talk about his world. What’s it like? It is this thing where you are the spiritual leader. You do have all these people that come to you from all walks of life because of family circumstances and look at you from the pulpit on Sunday morning as the person with all the answers, right? They assume you have every answer to their life and that, in that Bible or text that you’re going to say, you’re going to give them a bit of knowledge that’s going to solve it all for them… Yet, once you close the hymnals and you say, ‘Amen’, now [Jeffers has] to run this big building. I’ve got a staff. I’ve got land. I’ve got real estate taxes. I’ve got things that are just as important to me as your soul, because in order to have all of this, we had to raise a certain amount of money. We have to provide these programs. So, it was interesting to see someone have to do that and still be a human and at the end, and have frailties and faults… and things that, if everybody saw them, it would be like seeing the Wizard [of Oz]. Like, they’d say ‘Oh wow, you’re just a person.’”

By placing Toller and Jeffers up against one another, Schrader creates a fascinating tension between the two men and their opposing values. However, Cedric believes that much of their differences are a result of the communities around them.

“Toller needs to suffer. He takes it all on… He’s a minister in a kind of a church that doesn’t really have parishioners. It’s kind of a ceremonial kind of place. It’s been around 250 years. So, he spends a lot of time alone and even though he’s supposed to be a leader of people and one that helps, it’s in that loneliness that one finds that they can jump into the despair of their own existence and decide that they haven’t suffered enough. That’s the difference. I think that, because [Jeffers] is in a big organization, I’m constantly being protected or being driven to have to be something on a daily basis.” 

In one of the more interesting (and unexpected) aspects of the film, Schrader inserts a conversation regarding the environment and the responsibility of the church within the narrative that forces Jeffers to make some difficult decisions. Even so, Cedric feels that his character is torn between caring for Toller’s humanity and maintaining his church financially.

Says Cedric, “I think from the point of view of the megachurch, you try to look at things in a bigger picture and not so much in the micro. So, I think that, even when dealing with the character Ed Balq who was the big industrialist in the movie and he’s a big donor for me. [At one moment,] I have to kind of bark at Toller and I want to defend him. It was a thing that Paul didn’t necessarily want because he wanted that he needed Ed to challenge him. But if you listen very briefly, I tell him, ‘Ed…’ I just say his name, [as if to tell him to] bring it down. I felt like that’s the part that you don’t get about Jeffers is that [he] understands what [Ed does] for [him] but, as a human, [he] understands [Toller] too. So, he would accept your donation from this organization, so I can accept the fact that you’re going to maybe kill a few people but, with that sacrifice, I may have the opportunity to save thousands. That’s what Jefferies looks at.

While Toller and Jeffers’ relationship remains strained at times throughout the film, Cedric also believes that there is a genuine friendship between the two characters.

“Imagine being an administrator of one of these kind of big churches where you’re the head honcho and to have someone that you are passionate about as a human… and they make you have to deal with your humanity,” he reflects. “They raise a question that you haven’t had an answer in a long time. The fact that he would even challenge Ed Balq [shows that Toller] is a person that puts some energy back into you… That is a friendship that I need. Right? Because that’s a person that makes you ask a question when you don’t have to have questions. All you give away as answers (in your opinion) because you’re the king. And that is something that me and Ethan, in our couple of our rehearsal days, we discovered a relationship where we knew each other and that there was a real friendship there, even though I’m communicating like boss to subordinate. It’s this thing that we wanted to make sure that people felt like they actually could be better friends. They probably are friends.”

In light of his financial dealings, it would not be difficult to judge Jeffers for his actions. Nevertheless, Cedric still believes that his character is a good man, despite his compromises.

“I would say yes, to the degree that he is a man that’s trying to do good,” he begins. “In the process of that, do I have to do some bad things? Maybe. But, overall, Jeffers is trying to do good, even when he speaks to Toller and he’s trying to get him to understand that [he’s] always living in the garden. [He tells him that he’s] always where the despair is… When you do that, you make the choice sometimes to leave people behind. You make the choice that maybe you will have an extra glass of communion wine, but it doesn’t make you a bad guy. I found that with some of the guys I studied. We met at a cigar lounge and you go, ‘Well, do you smoke cigars? Is that right or wrong?’ Yeah, I’ll have a cigar. I have a glass of wine… I may even use language amongst certain friends, you know. But again, this is all in that part of being a human as opposed to literally try to live on the pedestal that people put you on.”

Despite the film’s controversial exploration of modern day religion, Cedric was still surprised at some of the backlash that he experienced during the film’s production.

“Early on, as we were scouting locations, we had to speak with several pastors and it was the question of the subject matter that made one of the bigger churches [nervous],” he remembers. “I was friends with them. I called them personally and they made this choice that was very Jeffers, I felt. They made a choice to say ‘No, you can’t shoot this movie here because we think that it may put a blemish on what we sell as a religious belief. We don’t want to sell that. And it was like this is not your church. We just need the location. But for them it felt like maybe people would see their lead minister as the same kind of guy. It [seemed like they didn’t] want to raise that question. They actually wanted script approval. It got crazy.”

For full audio of our conversation with Cedric the Entertainer, click here.

 First Reformed is in theaters now.

When Film Confronts Faith: 1on1 with Paul Schrader (FIRST REFORMED)

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Written and directed by the legendary Paul Schrader (Taxi Driver, The Last Temptation of Christ), First Reformedtells the story of Reverend Toller (Ethan Hawke), a pastor of a small church in upstate New York. After an encounter with an unstable congregant and his pregnant wife leaves him shaken, Toller finds himself embroiled in an environmental controversy that involves the local megachurch. His faith waning and his body slowly succumbing to illness and addiction, Toller is forced to re-examine all of his beliefs and how they connect in today’s culture. Having grown up within the church setting, Schrader believes that his upbringing has often affected how he interacts with cinema.

“I was raised in the church, a product of Christian school system. So, we didn’t see movies. Those weren’t allowed. So, I got sort of interested in movies at the college level and, [more specifically,] serious movies like European cinema of the sixties, and Bergman. That’s sort of how I got interested. I wrote a book [titled Transcendence in Film] about spirituality in cinema at that time because I was a film critic. Then, I drifted into the commercial cinema and got obsessed with the attractions of action, empathy and psychological realism of sexuality and made movies in that vein and did the devil’s work for many decades.”

Despite his upbringing within the church, Schrader has never been interested in delving into his spiritual history onscreen. However, once his mind was changed, he also felt that the First Reformed came together quite quickly.

“I never thought I would make a spiritual film,” he claims. “I never did. People would ask about it and I said, no, I’m not gonna go there… Now, [though] you can afford to do these kinds of films. In the past, I couldn’t afford to do it. It wouldn’t be cost effective to make this kind of film in America… I knew it was time to turn [my] hand to write a spiritual film. Once I made that decision, then the particulars of the film started coming into my mind. I drew upon the films in the genre that I had known and loved and then sort of glued them together with the glue of Taxi Driver”.

With this in mind, one of Schrader’s deep passions remains the exploration of spirituality in film. While many associate this idea with either basic ‘faith-based’ movies or religious themes within their narratives, he believes that genuine transcendent filmmaking goes much deeper than that by inviting the viewer to meditate upon the moment.

“When you talk about spirituality in film (which is different than religion), you’re talking about withholding devices. You’re talking about devices that come from the field of contemplation and meditation. There is no fast way to meditate. That’s when you start pulling away from the viewer, withholding certain things that they expect, [whether it’s] cutting patterns, music, all of this stuff. [When you do that], you’re inviting them to lean forward. A normal movie is all over you and desperate for your attention. It has its hands all over your body, on your throat, and saying, ‘Love me, love me. Here’s some music. You’ll love this music. There were some cool shots. Here’s a pretty girl. Here’s a fast car. Have an explosion. Love me, love me, love me!’ It’s exhausting and you don’t have to do a thing.”

“Now, you get the opposite kind of feeling with holy film. It’s leaning away from you. It’s saying, ‘I know you think you’re going to see this, but you’re not. I know you think that when a character walks off street, you’re going to see where they go, well, maybe you’re not. Maybe we’re going to just watch the empty room for a while.’ Even when nothing is happening, something is happening because the viewer is watching and it’s something that’s happening inside of the viewer.”

In light of this, Schrader argues that this sense of spiritual challenge to the viewer remains front and center in First Reformed.

“[For example], if you use a classic holding device like when somebody walks out the door, the door closes, breaks down, we go one, two, three now you’re… Your eye never does that. But you’re in a movie theater and the guy says, okay, let’s watch the door for a few seconds before we do something else. Well, what’s going on in your head? So that is how you start playing that passive aggressive game, getting them to lean forward. And the dangerous line you dance on is when you start using these was holding devices. If you are, [the viewer] can do one of two things: he can start to lean in toward you (in which case you’ve got your goal) or he can get up and leave the theater. So, if you look at the way that First Reformedopens, it’s almost saying to you, ‘If you’re not ready for this, would you please leave right now?’If it’s going to be too slow for you, just leave now and let the rest of us stay.”

With Reformed, Schrader’s exploration of spirituality challenges the viewer, not only through its style, but also its themes. For instance, whereas many films about the church opt to place their emphasis in hope through faith, Reformedinstead chooses not to shy away from Toller’s own failing faith and the impact it has on his ministry. According to Schrader, it was this sense of spiritual blockage that he was most interested in exploring throughout the film.

“He has a sickness and it’s a sickness unto death or despair,” he explains. “He tells that kid, ‘The problem is your despair’ but he’s really talking about himself. He can’t communicate with God. He’s trying various things like writing a journal, the rituals of the church, alcohol, prayer and then he picks up this nasty virus. Whether or not he’s actually an eco-warrior, I’m not sure. Maybe he’s just a diseased man who was looking for a cause.”

Of course, given the subject matters pointedness towards the deficiencies of the modern church system in their faith and response to current global issues. When asked whether or not he believes the church is missing something in today’s society, Schrader argues that this is absolutely the case.

“Of course, they are,” he asserts. “There’s a quote from John Lennon that says, ‘I don’t like God much once they get them under a roof.’ That’s the difference between spirituality and religion in the church. The moment you have a building and a membership and dues and uniforms and a hierarchy and organization, you [become] a kind of corporate structure. You have a budget. You have real estate and you have taxes. How do you combine the message of the gospel of Jesus with the obligations of running a corporation? That’s always been the difficulty. You have a big corporation. You have a sponsor, who is a polluter. Sometimes, you have to live in the real world. Geoffrey says ‘You don’t live real world. You’re a pastor of a church no one attends.’”

For full audio of our conversation with Paul Schrader, click here.

First Reformed was released in theatres on Friday, May 18th, 2018.