Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Check out Reviewers Roundtable
Find out the latest about some great new books and movies by checking out the summer edition of Reviewers Roundtable on New Consciousness Review radio, featuring Miriam Knight, Cynthia Sue Larson and yours truly. The one-hour broadcast includes looks at eight new books and my reviews of three terrific films, "Selma," "She's Beautiful When She's Angry" and "Pride." Tune in by clicking here.
Friday, June 19, 2015
‘Me and Earl’ explores finding one’s place in the world
“Me and Earl and the Dying Girl” (2015). Cast: Thomas Mann, RJ Cyler, Olivia Cooke, Nick Offerman, Connie Britton, Molly Shannon, Jon Bernthal, Katherine C. Hughes, Matt Bennett, Masam Holden, Bobb’e J. Thompson, Gavin Dietz, Edward DeBruce III. Director: Alfonso Gomez-Rejon. Screenplay: Jesse Andrews. Book: Jesse Andrews, Me and Earl and the Dying Girl. Web site. Trailer.
Finding one’s place in the world can be a daunting challenge, especially when ideas of how to do so are elusive. But sometimes our inspiration comes from the unlikeliest of circumstances. That’s the scenario that unfolds in the engaging new comedy-drama, “Me and Earl and the Dying Girl.”
High school senior Greg Gaines (Thomas Mann) desperately wants to fit in with his classmates. But, given the many diverse subcultures that make up the student body at Pittsburgh’s Schenley High, he can’t decide which group to call his tribe. As a consequence, he spends most of his time hiding out in a sort of social anonymity, developing only superficial associations with his peers. In fact, about the only person he considers a friend is his longtime buddy Earl Jackson (RJ Cyler), a childhood pal with whom he clandestinely makes short films parodying classic works of cinema. But, even with this creative diversion, Greg’s life generally lacks direction, purpose and a sense of connection – distressing conditions for someone on the brink of adulthood.
Three young friends (from left), Rachel (Olivia Cooke), Greg (Thomas Mann) and Earl (RJ Cyler), face circumstances that force them to grow up faster than expected in the engaging new comedy-drama, “Me and Earl and the Dying Girl.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
Greg’s teenage ennui troubles those who care about him, most notably his hip, tattoo-clad history teacher, Mr. McCarthy (Jon Bernthal), and his loving but kooky parents (Connie Britton, Nick Offerman). They look for ways to shake Greg out of his adolescent funk, most of which have little impact. But that all begins to change when Greg’s mom asks a favor destined to set him on a new path.
When Greg’s mom learns from her friend Denise (Molly Shannon) that her daughter Rachel (Olivia Cooke) has been diagnosed with leukemia, she asks Greg to spend some time with her to lift her spirits. Greg initially balks at the idea, claiming that he barely knows Rachel and has no clue how to cheer her up. But mom has confidence in her son, and, thanks to her gentle persuasion, she eventually coaxes him into paying Rachel a visit.
Greg Gaines (Thomas Mann, left), a high school senior lacking direction, purpose and connection in life, receives an interesting suggestion from his loving but kooky parents (Nick Offerman, center, Connie Britton, right) in “Me and Earl and the Dying Girl.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
The initial meeting between Greg and Rachel is strained, to say the least. However, when Rachel learns about Greg and Earl’s film projects, she’s intrigued. In fact, their silly little movies are one of the few things that make her laugh in the face of her circumstances. Before long, Greg and Rachel, with Earl in tow, become the best of friends. What’s more, Greg slowly begins to find himself and his place in the world. But, as Rachel’s condition worsens, the strength of that bond and of Greg’s emerging sense of self-awareness get seriously tested.
With Rachel’s illness progressing, her health and spirits deteriorate. The same can be said of Greg’s academic standing; while spending more of his time trying to lift Rachel’s mood, he lets his schoolwork lapse. Offering Rachel encouragement increasingly drains him of ideas, too. But, just when he seems to be fresh out of ways to cheer her up, one of Rachel’s friends, Madison (Katherine C. Hughes), comes up with a proposal that draws on one of Greg’s strengths: She suggests that he and Earl make one of their movies just for Rachel.
The challenge of creating a suitable film for someone in Rachel’s condition is understandably trying. That difficulty is compounded by Greg’s conflicted, questioning state of mind. The strain of these circumstances soon becomes apparent, affecting Greg’s attempts to understand it all, not to mention the nature of his relationships with Rachel, with Earl and, most of all, with himself.
Being asked to grow up faster than expected seems patently unfair, both for those witnessing it, as well as those living through it. That’s certainly the case for Rachel and Greg, as well as those who care about them. But, under those dire conditions, how we respond is what truly matters most.
Denise Kushner (Molly Shannon), the boozy single mother of a daughter diagnosed with leukemia, struggles to cope with her circumstances in the engaging new comedy-drama, “Me and Earl and the Dying Girl.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
Under such circumstances, our responses depend on our beliefs, thoughts and intents, the basis of the conscious creation process, which serves to frame the reality we ultimately experience. These powerful forces determine what we draw into our existence to address these (and all of the other) conditions of life. And, given that, one would hope that we choose those beliefs carefully, for they will be faithfully reflected in what materializes around us. This is the law of attraction at work in its most basic expression.
The scenarios that Rachel and Greg have manifested are by no means enviable and certainly full of challenges, but they also offer powerful opportunities for personal growth and life lessons. The protagonists serve as mirrors for one another, too, as they move through their respective ordeals. For example, when the story begins, Greg seems to have all but given up on himself and his future. But, when he befriends Rachel, he finds a purpose. So, when Rachel’s condition begins to slide and she questions the value of continuing her treatment, she seems to give up, something that raises Greg’s ire and represents a complete turnaround from where he began. In her own way, Rachel thus provides the inspiration her friend needs to make something of his life. Witnessing such circumstances is undoubtedly painful, but it’s something Greg needed to experience to get his existence back on track.
Circumstances like these also help to put matters in perspective. At the film’s outset, for instance, Greg worries (i.e., whines) about how to fit in. But, through his friendship with Rachel, he comes to realize how the importance of some beliefs can be vastly overblown. After all, fretting over one’s high school social standing is, arguably, nowhere nearly as traumatizing as experiencing cancer. Rachel’s experience makes that apparent for Greg. And, whenever Greg is tempted to backslide and wallow in his own self-pity, Earl comes along to provide much-needed splashes of cold water to shake up his friend and get him to come back to “reality.”
When Greg Gaines (Thomas Mann, right) is faced with a dearth of ideas on how to cheer up his ill friend, Rachel (Olivia Cooke, left), he receives an interesting proposal from her friend, Madison (Katherine C. Hughes, center), in “Me and Earl and the Dying Girl.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
Perhaps most importantly, though, manifestations like these enable us to face our fears, a crucial aspect of our continued personal growth. It doesn’t really matter that we may even be afraid of these circumstances as we approach them; what matters most is that we form and embrace beliefs to muster up the courage to do so, thereby affording ourselves an opportunity to move through whatever is holding us back in furthering our personal progress. It also allows us to overcome the pitfalls of practices like wishful thinking, which ultimately provide false comfort and can delay (or even derail) our efforts at growing as fully realized beings. After all, if we’re unable to face our fears in getting through life, how might we ever do so to get through death?
“Me and Earl and the Dying Girl” is excellent all the way around, a young adult story that rises above most typical YA fare, with an intriguing, engaging style reminiscent of films like “(500) Days of Summer”. Its emotive screenplay is deeply affecting, evoking a range of moods and viewer reactions, but without ever resorting to cheap, manipulative sentimentality. The ensemble cast features fine performances across the board, especially among the three young leads and their parental counterparts. You’ll want to keep those hankies handy, too, just in case.
Despite the picture’s serious undertone, it provides ample humor, too. It draws upon a variety of means to get laughs, especially in its clips from Greg and Earl’s classic film parodies. Movie buffs will surely appreciate the hilarious snippets featured from productions like “A Sockwork Orange,” “Senior Citizen Kane,” “My Dinner with Andre the Giant” and “Brew Velvet,” among others. Such humor contributed to the accolades the picture earned earlier this year at the Sundance Film Festival, where it captured the event’s Audience Award and Grand Jury Prize.
The quest to fulfill our destiny may be filled with unexpected twists and turns. However, the fulfillment that comes from such a journey may be unattainable by other means, providing us with what we need, even when that outcome doesn’t seem likely. Trusting in ourselves and the reality we create will get us where we need to go, be it in matters of both life and death. And, if that doesn’t make our existence worthwhile in the end, I don’t know what would.
Copyright © 2015, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Finding one’s place in the world can be a daunting challenge, especially when ideas of how to do so are elusive. But sometimes our inspiration comes from the unlikeliest of circumstances. That’s the scenario that unfolds in the engaging new comedy-drama, “Me and Earl and the Dying Girl.”
High school senior Greg Gaines (Thomas Mann) desperately wants to fit in with his classmates. But, given the many diverse subcultures that make up the student body at Pittsburgh’s Schenley High, he can’t decide which group to call his tribe. As a consequence, he spends most of his time hiding out in a sort of social anonymity, developing only superficial associations with his peers. In fact, about the only person he considers a friend is his longtime buddy Earl Jackson (RJ Cyler), a childhood pal with whom he clandestinely makes short films parodying classic works of cinema. But, even with this creative diversion, Greg’s life generally lacks direction, purpose and a sense of connection – distressing conditions for someone on the brink of adulthood.
Greg’s teenage ennui troubles those who care about him, most notably his hip, tattoo-clad history teacher, Mr. McCarthy (Jon Bernthal), and his loving but kooky parents (Connie Britton, Nick Offerman). They look for ways to shake Greg out of his adolescent funk, most of which have little impact. But that all begins to change when Greg’s mom asks a favor destined to set him on a new path.
When Greg’s mom learns from her friend Denise (Molly Shannon) that her daughter Rachel (Olivia Cooke) has been diagnosed with leukemia, she asks Greg to spend some time with her to lift her spirits. Greg initially balks at the idea, claiming that he barely knows Rachel and has no clue how to cheer her up. But mom has confidence in her son, and, thanks to her gentle persuasion, she eventually coaxes him into paying Rachel a visit.
The initial meeting between Greg and Rachel is strained, to say the least. However, when Rachel learns about Greg and Earl’s film projects, she’s intrigued. In fact, their silly little movies are one of the few things that make her laugh in the face of her circumstances. Before long, Greg and Rachel, with Earl in tow, become the best of friends. What’s more, Greg slowly begins to find himself and his place in the world. But, as Rachel’s condition worsens, the strength of that bond and of Greg’s emerging sense of self-awareness get seriously tested.
With Rachel’s illness progressing, her health and spirits deteriorate. The same can be said of Greg’s academic standing; while spending more of his time trying to lift Rachel’s mood, he lets his schoolwork lapse. Offering Rachel encouragement increasingly drains him of ideas, too. But, just when he seems to be fresh out of ways to cheer her up, one of Rachel’s friends, Madison (Katherine C. Hughes), comes up with a proposal that draws on one of Greg’s strengths: She suggests that he and Earl make one of their movies just for Rachel.
The challenge of creating a suitable film for someone in Rachel’s condition is understandably trying. That difficulty is compounded by Greg’s conflicted, questioning state of mind. The strain of these circumstances soon becomes apparent, affecting Greg’s attempts to understand it all, not to mention the nature of his relationships with Rachel, with Earl and, most of all, with himself.
Being asked to grow up faster than expected seems patently unfair, both for those witnessing it, as well as those living through it. That’s certainly the case for Rachel and Greg, as well as those who care about them. But, under those dire conditions, how we respond is what truly matters most.
Under such circumstances, our responses depend on our beliefs, thoughts and intents, the basis of the conscious creation process, which serves to frame the reality we ultimately experience. These powerful forces determine what we draw into our existence to address these (and all of the other) conditions of life. And, given that, one would hope that we choose those beliefs carefully, for they will be faithfully reflected in what materializes around us. This is the law of attraction at work in its most basic expression.
The scenarios that Rachel and Greg have manifested are by no means enviable and certainly full of challenges, but they also offer powerful opportunities for personal growth and life lessons. The protagonists serve as mirrors for one another, too, as they move through their respective ordeals. For example, when the story begins, Greg seems to have all but given up on himself and his future. But, when he befriends Rachel, he finds a purpose. So, when Rachel’s condition begins to slide and she questions the value of continuing her treatment, she seems to give up, something that raises Greg’s ire and represents a complete turnaround from where he began. In her own way, Rachel thus provides the inspiration her friend needs to make something of his life. Witnessing such circumstances is undoubtedly painful, but it’s something Greg needed to experience to get his existence back on track.
Circumstances like these also help to put matters in perspective. At the film’s outset, for instance, Greg worries (i.e., whines) about how to fit in. But, through his friendship with Rachel, he comes to realize how the importance of some beliefs can be vastly overblown. After all, fretting over one’s high school social standing is, arguably, nowhere nearly as traumatizing as experiencing cancer. Rachel’s experience makes that apparent for Greg. And, whenever Greg is tempted to backslide and wallow in his own self-pity, Earl comes along to provide much-needed splashes of cold water to shake up his friend and get him to come back to “reality.”
Perhaps most importantly, though, manifestations like these enable us to face our fears, a crucial aspect of our continued personal growth. It doesn’t really matter that we may even be afraid of these circumstances as we approach them; what matters most is that we form and embrace beliefs to muster up the courage to do so, thereby affording ourselves an opportunity to move through whatever is holding us back in furthering our personal progress. It also allows us to overcome the pitfalls of practices like wishful thinking, which ultimately provide false comfort and can delay (or even derail) our efforts at growing as fully realized beings. After all, if we’re unable to face our fears in getting through life, how might we ever do so to get through death?
“Me and Earl and the Dying Girl” is excellent all the way around, a young adult story that rises above most typical YA fare, with an intriguing, engaging style reminiscent of films like “(500) Days of Summer”. Its emotive screenplay is deeply affecting, evoking a range of moods and viewer reactions, but without ever resorting to cheap, manipulative sentimentality. The ensemble cast features fine performances across the board, especially among the three young leads and their parental counterparts. You’ll want to keep those hankies handy, too, just in case.
Despite the picture’s serious undertone, it provides ample humor, too. It draws upon a variety of means to get laughs, especially in its clips from Greg and Earl’s classic film parodies. Movie buffs will surely appreciate the hilarious snippets featured from productions like “A Sockwork Orange,” “Senior Citizen Kane,” “My Dinner with Andre the Giant” and “Brew Velvet,” among others. Such humor contributed to the accolades the picture earned earlier this year at the Sundance Film Festival, where it captured the event’s Audience Award and Grand Jury Prize.
The quest to fulfill our destiny may be filled with unexpected twists and turns. However, the fulfillment that comes from such a journey may be unattainable by other means, providing us with what we need, even when that outcome doesn’t seem likely. Trusting in ourselves and the reality we create will get us where we need to go, be it in matters of both life and death. And, if that doesn’t make our existence worthwhile in the end, I don’t know what would.
Copyright © 2015, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Thursday, June 11, 2015
‘Love & Mercy’ probes creative discernment
“Love & Mercy” (2014 production, 2015 release). Cast: Paul Dano, John Cusack, Elizabeth Banks, Paul Giamatti, Jake Abel, Kenny Wormald, Brett Davern, Graham Rogers, Max Schneider, Erin Darke, Bill Camp, Johnny Sneed, Diana Maria Riva, Fred Cross, Oliver Pohlad. Director: Bill Pohlad. Screenplay: Oren Moverman and Michael Alan Lerner. Story: The life story of Brian Wilson. Web site. Trailer.
Learning selectivity can be challenging in almost any undertaking. That’s especially true if we lack the means to effectively sort through the many options available to us. In fact, without such a filter, we may quickly find ourselves overwhelmed, circumstances that can have devastating consequences, as seen in the engaging new biopic, “Love & Mercy.”
In the early 1960s, the Beach Boys made a huge splash on the American pop music scene with their distinctive California sound and catchy surfer tunes. The driving force behind the group was founder Brian Wilson (Paul Dano), who assembled the band with his brothers Dennis (Kenny Wormald) and Carl (Brett Davern), cousin Mike Love (Jake Abel), and friend Al Jardine (Graham Rogers). Within a short time, the group’s popularity exploded, quickly becoming a national, and then global, phenomenon.
By 1965, however, things began to change. First, Brian and his brothers fired the group’s manager, their domineering, manipulative father, Murry Wilson (Bill Camp). Then Brian announced that he had tired of touring and wanted to spend more of his time in the studio, working on innovative new sounds. Clearly he was an artist in transition, but his emerging creative sensibilities told only part of the story.
Musically speaking, Brian began work on compositions for a bold new album titled Pet Sounds. He wanted to replace the kitschy surfer songs that had long characterized the band’s repertoire with a more intricate, more sophisticated, more heartfelt sound, as evidenced by pieces like the soulful ballad, “God Only Knows.” What’s more, the tracks on this LP included different instrumentation from previous efforts, such as the rich orchestration of the studio musicians known as the Wrecking Crew, as well as inventive sound effects never before committed to vinyl. The album was a radical departure for the Beach Boys – and for American pop music in general.
However, while Brian thought he was on to something, not everyone agreed. His band mates (especially Mike Love) were skeptical about this new musical direction, a reservation borne out when Pet Sounds flopped commercially (despite critical acclaim and high praise from fellow musicians like the Beatles). Many thus began to wonder about the Beach Boys’ future. But, as quickly became apparent, this concern had to do with more than changes in the music; it also had to do with changes going on with Brian.
The new sounds that Brian had been envisioning seemed to come from out of nowhere. That’s because they flowed into his head effortlessly. While some might have welcomed the gift of such unsolicited genius, it became troubling for Wilson when he found he couldn’t turn it off. Ideas for new songs, as well as ideas for a range of other new projects, flooded his mind continually. That constant barrage of creative input, coupled with the fallout from experimenting with drugs and the impact of a host of other unresolved demons, took their toll on his mental state, leading him into a life of seclusion and a series of breakdowns that went on for years.
By the mid 1980s, a now-older Brian (John Cusack) fought to get his life back on track. He had hopes of reviving his music career, and he sought to re-engage with the everyday world of the living. He even met a new love interest, former model Melinda Ledbetter (Elizabeth Banks), who was full of compassion for the struggling soul.
But, no matter what progress Brian made, it seemed as though he could never quite pull it all together. He was often anxious, sometimes despondent and occasionally paranoid. And, even though he was under the care of well-known Los Angeles psychotherapist Dr. Gene Landy (Paul Giamatti), it became apparent that the “treatment” Brian received was as much a part of the problem as his psychological ills. In fact, over time, it almost seemed as though he was backsliding into the despair that once left him bedridden for over two years. But Brian’s resolve was strong. And now, with a valuable ally at his side, he at last had an opportunity to make it all the way back.
As many artistic types can attest, being creative isn’t always easy. Indeed, as the Roman dramatist and philosopher Seneca the Elder observed, “There is no great genius without some touch of madness.” And, as this film shows, Brian Wilson experienced that firsthand, though some might contend that more than just a “touch” of madness was involved.
So how did this boundless creativity drive him to the brink? In his exuberance to birth something new, Brian left himself open to let the inspiration flow. Others could clearly see this, too, such as Wrecking Crew drummer Hal Blaine (Johnny Sneed), who unabashedly labeled Wilson a genius. However, leaving himself open was also something that Brian did perhaps a little too well. With his artistic source tapped and no apparent filter in place to sort the incoming revelations, Brian became overwhelmed.
Those who practice conscious creation, the philosophy that maintains we create our reality through the power of our thoughts, beliefs and intents, understand the potency of those forces and the need to manage them effectively. This is especially true when it comes to the elements that shape our beliefs, namely, our intuitive and intellectual impulses. Making use of both of these sources in a tempered, balanced fashion allows beliefs to form that serve us well as we manifest our existence (and everything within it). But, if we allow either element to get out of whack, problems are sure to arise, and so it was with Brian.
Given the incessant stream of creative ideas that flowed into Brian’s mind (many of which seemed to appear entirely unsolicited), it’s apparent that he had no trouble accessing his intuitive side. However, with little or no mechanism in place to temper such unrestrained input – a deficiency in his intellect’s screening capabilities – there was nothing to stop or even curtail the constant flood of intuitive impulses. With his mind relentlessly racing from one idea to another, the “voices” in Brian’s head slowly began to overtake him – and his sanity.
Ironically, for most conscious creators, it’s the intellect that’s usually too strong, often easily overpowering the seemingly “less rational” intuition. In many ways, these reversed circumstances made Brian’s situation rather unusual (though the effect was no less debilitating).
Scenarios like this reveal the importance of developing our power of discernment, a key component in honing our conscious creation skills. It helps us sort the deluge of intellectual and intuitive impulses that come our way, helping us strike a balance in forming the beliefs we use to create our respective realities. And it comes in handy in virtually every aspect of the manifestation process, from the works of art we create to the relationships we forge with others and everything in between.
In Brian’s case, his underdeveloped power of discernment is readily apparent, most notably in his compositional efforts. However, it’s also present in other aspects of his life, such as in his relationships with authority figures. It’s obvious, for example, that he had his share of issues with his father, some of which were never resolved (even after he and his brothers fired Murry as their manager). The beliefs associated with the creation of his failure to do so, and his lack of discernment in recognizing their ongoing presence, carried over years later into his relationship with Gene Landy. The association between Brian and his therapist had many of the same dynamics as the one Wilson had with his dad, and the patterns present in his childhood were still in place in adulthood. These circumstances were thus destined to remain firmly entrenched until Brian developed the skill to see them in a different light. His experience in this regard should serve as a powerful cautionary tale to any of us conscious creators who are lacking in the same regard.
Discernment is more than just helping us spot what we don’t need; it helps us identify what we do, too, as long as we recognize its usefulness and how to employ it. For example, a well-developed sense of discernment would have significantly helped Brian realize what he needed to draw into his life to make his existence better. Chief among those needs was compassion, a trait to support him through his travails as he worked them out. But, in the absence of a working command of his discernment skills, instead of compassion he frequently drew criticism, as seen in the comments about his music offered by his father and his cousin and the sometimes-hostile therapy tactics used by Landy. For someone desperately requiring grace and compassion, criticism and abuse are the last things one needs.
This is where Melinda’s involvement proved invaluable. She provided the much-needed empathy to help him turn his life around. She helped trigger his sense of discernment, making it possible for him to begin to realize what he did and didn’t need in his life. But, perhaps most importantly, she helped him see that he was not alone, that he was part of something bigger that binds all of us to one another, a connection that enables us to get by, no matter what challenges may cross our paths. In that sense, she gave Brian what he needed most – love and mercy. If Brian’s experience teaches us nothing else, it should be that we need to develop the capacity for drawing compassion into our lives when we need it most, an invaluable lesson that can help us get through those tough times when everything seems irretrievably stacked against us.
When I first saw the trailer for “Love & Mercy,” I wasn’t especially impressed. Having been only a passing fan of the band’s music and sensing this release to be yet another film celebrating the recovery of a fallen celebrity icon, the impression the preview left on me was lukewarm at best. But, after seeing the picture, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Love & Mercy” is easily the best film of 2015 thus far. Director Bill Pohlad has pulled off a masterful coup with this picture, telling two compelling stories about the same character in one seamlessly interwoven vehicle. In doing so, the filmmaker took a number of chances creatively, such as casting two different leads to portray one protagonist at different points in his life, a risky move that pays off handsomely in the superb performances turned in by Dano and Cusack, each turning in perhaps their best-ever on-screen work. Pohlad also employed innovative tactics in the film’s cinematography, editing and soundtrack, significantly raising the stakes for what a biopic is truly capable of achieving.
The film does a fine job in other regards, too. Its character development is excellent across the board, but not just for the story’s lead. The portrayals of Melinda, Gene and Murry are all sufficiently fleshed out, thanks in large part to the great performances of Banks, Giamatti and Camp. The picture also avoids the temptation to depict its protagonist monodimensionally, showing Brian not only at his most pitiable but also when on top of his game as a consummate artist (exemplified best in the film’s recording studio scenes, where viewers are treated to views of a talented musician working magic with his peers). This combination of attributes makes “Love & Mercy” much more than what it might seem superficially – and a film well worthy of one’s viewing time.
Finding the right mix of elements we need to form the beliefs integral to the creation of our reality can be difficult, even under the best of circumstances. But, when we’re missing some of the components to make the process work, we may quickly find ourselves incapable of carrying on. It’s at times like that when qualities like compassion and discernment can prove invaluable. Let us hope that, if we ever experience such conditions, that we’ll draw to us the love and mercy we need to help us see our way clear.
Copyright © 2015, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Learning selectivity can be challenging in almost any undertaking. That’s especially true if we lack the means to effectively sort through the many options available to us. In fact, without such a filter, we may quickly find ourselves overwhelmed, circumstances that can have devastating consequences, as seen in the engaging new biopic, “Love & Mercy.”
In the early 1960s, the Beach Boys made a huge splash on the American pop music scene with their distinctive California sound and catchy surfer tunes. The driving force behind the group was founder Brian Wilson (Paul Dano), who assembled the band with his brothers Dennis (Kenny Wormald) and Carl (Brett Davern), cousin Mike Love (Jake Abel), and friend Al Jardine (Graham Rogers). Within a short time, the group’s popularity exploded, quickly becoming a national, and then global, phenomenon.
By 1965, however, things began to change. First, Brian and his brothers fired the group’s manager, their domineering, manipulative father, Murry Wilson (Bill Camp). Then Brian announced that he had tired of touring and wanted to spend more of his time in the studio, working on innovative new sounds. Clearly he was an artist in transition, but his emerging creative sensibilities told only part of the story.
Musically speaking, Brian began work on compositions for a bold new album titled Pet Sounds. He wanted to replace the kitschy surfer songs that had long characterized the band’s repertoire with a more intricate, more sophisticated, more heartfelt sound, as evidenced by pieces like the soulful ballad, “God Only Knows.” What’s more, the tracks on this LP included different instrumentation from previous efforts, such as the rich orchestration of the studio musicians known as the Wrecking Crew, as well as inventive sound effects never before committed to vinyl. The album was a radical departure for the Beach Boys – and for American pop music in general.
However, while Brian thought he was on to something, not everyone agreed. His band mates (especially Mike Love) were skeptical about this new musical direction, a reservation borne out when Pet Sounds flopped commercially (despite critical acclaim and high praise from fellow musicians like the Beatles). Many thus began to wonder about the Beach Boys’ future. But, as quickly became apparent, this concern had to do with more than changes in the music; it also had to do with changes going on with Brian.
The new sounds that Brian had been envisioning seemed to come from out of nowhere. That’s because they flowed into his head effortlessly. While some might have welcomed the gift of such unsolicited genius, it became troubling for Wilson when he found he couldn’t turn it off. Ideas for new songs, as well as ideas for a range of other new projects, flooded his mind continually. That constant barrage of creative input, coupled with the fallout from experimenting with drugs and the impact of a host of other unresolved demons, took their toll on his mental state, leading him into a life of seclusion and a series of breakdowns that went on for years.
By the mid 1980s, a now-older Brian (John Cusack) fought to get his life back on track. He had hopes of reviving his music career, and he sought to re-engage with the everyday world of the living. He even met a new love interest, former model Melinda Ledbetter (Elizabeth Banks), who was full of compassion for the struggling soul.
But, no matter what progress Brian made, it seemed as though he could never quite pull it all together. He was often anxious, sometimes despondent and occasionally paranoid. And, even though he was under the care of well-known Los Angeles psychotherapist Dr. Gene Landy (Paul Giamatti), it became apparent that the “treatment” Brian received was as much a part of the problem as his psychological ills. In fact, over time, it almost seemed as though he was backsliding into the despair that once left him bedridden for over two years. But Brian’s resolve was strong. And now, with a valuable ally at his side, he at last had an opportunity to make it all the way back.
As many artistic types can attest, being creative isn’t always easy. Indeed, as the Roman dramatist and philosopher Seneca the Elder observed, “There is no great genius without some touch of madness.” And, as this film shows, Brian Wilson experienced that firsthand, though some might contend that more than just a “touch” of madness was involved.
So how did this boundless creativity drive him to the brink? In his exuberance to birth something new, Brian left himself open to let the inspiration flow. Others could clearly see this, too, such as Wrecking Crew drummer Hal Blaine (Johnny Sneed), who unabashedly labeled Wilson a genius. However, leaving himself open was also something that Brian did perhaps a little too well. With his artistic source tapped and no apparent filter in place to sort the incoming revelations, Brian became overwhelmed.
Those who practice conscious creation, the philosophy that maintains we create our reality through the power of our thoughts, beliefs and intents, understand the potency of those forces and the need to manage them effectively. This is especially true when it comes to the elements that shape our beliefs, namely, our intuitive and intellectual impulses. Making use of both of these sources in a tempered, balanced fashion allows beliefs to form that serve us well as we manifest our existence (and everything within it). But, if we allow either element to get out of whack, problems are sure to arise, and so it was with Brian.
Given the incessant stream of creative ideas that flowed into Brian’s mind (many of which seemed to appear entirely unsolicited), it’s apparent that he had no trouble accessing his intuitive side. However, with little or no mechanism in place to temper such unrestrained input – a deficiency in his intellect’s screening capabilities – there was nothing to stop or even curtail the constant flood of intuitive impulses. With his mind relentlessly racing from one idea to another, the “voices” in Brian’s head slowly began to overtake him – and his sanity.
Ironically, for most conscious creators, it’s the intellect that’s usually too strong, often easily overpowering the seemingly “less rational” intuition. In many ways, these reversed circumstances made Brian’s situation rather unusual (though the effect was no less debilitating).
Scenarios like this reveal the importance of developing our power of discernment, a key component in honing our conscious creation skills. It helps us sort the deluge of intellectual and intuitive impulses that come our way, helping us strike a balance in forming the beliefs we use to create our respective realities. And it comes in handy in virtually every aspect of the manifestation process, from the works of art we create to the relationships we forge with others and everything in between.
In Brian’s case, his underdeveloped power of discernment is readily apparent, most notably in his compositional efforts. However, it’s also present in other aspects of his life, such as in his relationships with authority figures. It’s obvious, for example, that he had his share of issues with his father, some of which were never resolved (even after he and his brothers fired Murry as their manager). The beliefs associated with the creation of his failure to do so, and his lack of discernment in recognizing their ongoing presence, carried over years later into his relationship with Gene Landy. The association between Brian and his therapist had many of the same dynamics as the one Wilson had with his dad, and the patterns present in his childhood were still in place in adulthood. These circumstances were thus destined to remain firmly entrenched until Brian developed the skill to see them in a different light. His experience in this regard should serve as a powerful cautionary tale to any of us conscious creators who are lacking in the same regard.
Discernment is more than just helping us spot what we don’t need; it helps us identify what we do, too, as long as we recognize its usefulness and how to employ it. For example, a well-developed sense of discernment would have significantly helped Brian realize what he needed to draw into his life to make his existence better. Chief among those needs was compassion, a trait to support him through his travails as he worked them out. But, in the absence of a working command of his discernment skills, instead of compassion he frequently drew criticism, as seen in the comments about his music offered by his father and his cousin and the sometimes-hostile therapy tactics used by Landy. For someone desperately requiring grace and compassion, criticism and abuse are the last things one needs.
This is where Melinda’s involvement proved invaluable. She provided the much-needed empathy to help him turn his life around. She helped trigger his sense of discernment, making it possible for him to begin to realize what he did and didn’t need in his life. But, perhaps most importantly, she helped him see that he was not alone, that he was part of something bigger that binds all of us to one another, a connection that enables us to get by, no matter what challenges may cross our paths. In that sense, she gave Brian what he needed most – love and mercy. If Brian’s experience teaches us nothing else, it should be that we need to develop the capacity for drawing compassion into our lives when we need it most, an invaluable lesson that can help us get through those tough times when everything seems irretrievably stacked against us.
When I first saw the trailer for “Love & Mercy,” I wasn’t especially impressed. Having been only a passing fan of the band’s music and sensing this release to be yet another film celebrating the recovery of a fallen celebrity icon, the impression the preview left on me was lukewarm at best. But, after seeing the picture, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Love & Mercy” is easily the best film of 2015 thus far. Director Bill Pohlad has pulled off a masterful coup with this picture, telling two compelling stories about the same character in one seamlessly interwoven vehicle. In doing so, the filmmaker took a number of chances creatively, such as casting two different leads to portray one protagonist at different points in his life, a risky move that pays off handsomely in the superb performances turned in by Dano and Cusack, each turning in perhaps their best-ever on-screen work. Pohlad also employed innovative tactics in the film’s cinematography, editing and soundtrack, significantly raising the stakes for what a biopic is truly capable of achieving.
The film does a fine job in other regards, too. Its character development is excellent across the board, but not just for the story’s lead. The portrayals of Melinda, Gene and Murry are all sufficiently fleshed out, thanks in large part to the great performances of Banks, Giamatti and Camp. The picture also avoids the temptation to depict its protagonist monodimensionally, showing Brian not only at his most pitiable but also when on top of his game as a consummate artist (exemplified best in the film’s recording studio scenes, where viewers are treated to views of a talented musician working magic with his peers). This combination of attributes makes “Love & Mercy” much more than what it might seem superficially – and a film well worthy of one’s viewing time.
Finding the right mix of elements we need to form the beliefs integral to the creation of our reality can be difficult, even under the best of circumstances. But, when we’re missing some of the components to make the process work, we may quickly find ourselves incapable of carrying on. It’s at times like that when qualities like compassion and discernment can prove invaluable. Let us hope that, if we ever experience such conditions, that we’ll draw to us the love and mercy we need to help us see our way clear.
Copyright © 2015, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Thursday, June 4, 2015
Explore 'Cinematic Probabilities'
Check out "Cinematic Probabilities," my latest article about conscious creation and the movies, in the latest edition of New Consciousness Review magazine, available on pp. 52-54, by clicking here.
‘In My Dreams’ assesses matters of perspective
“I’ll See You in My Dreams” (2015). Cast: Blythe Danner, Sam Elliott, June Squibb, Rhea Perlman, Mary Kay Place, Martin Starr, Malin Akerman, Mark Adair-Rios, Max Gail. Director: Brett Haley. Screenplay: Marc Basch and Brett Haley. Web site. Trailer.
Are you happy with your life? Does it bring you the satisfaction and fulfillment you seek? Or does it fall below expectations? If it comes up short, why do you think that’s so? Answers to these thorny questions may be elusive, but, when they reveal themselves, they may be full of surprises, especially when it comes to identifying who’s responsible for the nature of one’s existence. It’s an unlikely subject for exploration in a romantic comedy-drama, but that’s just what happens in the new heartfelt release, “I'll See You in My Dreams.”
Carol Petersen (Blythe Danner) knows a lot about love and loss. Having been widowed 20 years earlier, when her adoring husband was tragically killed in a plane crash, the spry 70-something now spends most of her days on her own, living alone in a small but comfortable home. She has a close circle of card-playing friends who live in a nearby retirement community (June Squibb, Rhea Perlman, Mary Kay Place), and she periodically receives visits from her daughter, Kath (Malin Akerman). But the fear of being hurt again is so strong that she rarely ventures outside her limited daily routine. It’s all very controlled and very safe but also very lonely.
Carol seems resigned to her fate (albeit with an often-forced cheerful resolve). Her friends try to involve her more in life, encouraging her to partake in activities like speed dating and going on group vacations. She appreciates their intentions, and sometimes she even follows their suggestions. For the most part, though, she’s content being a hermit. However, when more losses occur – most notably the passing of her faithful dog, Hazel – she finds she can’t hide from life’s disappointments forever.
Quite unexpectedly, Carol receives several significant nudges encouraging her to become re-engaged with life. First, she develops a chummy drinking buddy relationship with her youthful new pool man, Lloyd (Martin Starr), an aspiring musician in search of himself who feels a nearly constant sense of disappointment when things don’t work out in his career. Having been in the music business herself at one point, Carol identifies with his circumstances. But, more importantly, she feels for Lloyd, believing him to be far too young to be so woefully hopeless. She periodically joins him for drinks and karaoke sessions to prop up his spirits, opportunities for her to hear what he’s got – and through which she can show off what she can still do.
An even bigger surprise comes when she meets Bill Young (Sam Elliott), a handsome, sexy, wealthy retiree who lives in the same community as her bridge partners. The attraction and chemistry between the two is palpable and nearly instantaneous, but Carol shows some hesitation, fearing how she might react if things don’t work out. But, despite such reluctance, she also realizes that she’s still in the world of the living and that, if she wants the remainder of her time to be worthwhile, she had better become involved in it. The question she must ask herself, though, “Is that the right decision?”
Carol’s experience offers an excellent examination of matters of perspective. How does (or should) she respond to the circumstances that present themselves? Is disappointment something that gives us justification to retreat into solitude? Or is it something that’s part and parcel of life that we must learn to live with? Rolling with the punches might not be easy for many of us, but is it proper to let despair define our outlook on our existence? That is what Carol must come to decide.
Working through such circumstances could be considerably easier if we realize that our reactions are based on our beliefs, which, according to conscious creation theory, dictate the nature of the reality we experience. If Carol were to believe, based on what she’s gone through, that life inherently sucks, then she’ll get an existence in line with such thinking. However, if she were to believe that happiness and satisfaction are indeed possible, then it’s just as likely her reality will embody those qualities instead.
Under circumstances like these, it’s also important to understand how those conditions arise in the first place. Like all of us, Carol’s reality is based on her beliefs, which are faithfully reflected in the world around her. That scenario may not always be pleasant, but it does provide her with a valuable opportunity for a significant life lesson associated with the foregoing principles. If she has created those conditions, then there must have been some part of her who wanted to gain that experience, no matter how difficult it is at times.
Realizing that is relevant for two reasons. First, it provides us a better understanding of how physical reality works. It’s inherently filled with highs and lows, and the sooner we come to accept that, the more we’ll be able to glean from the experience. Naïvely embracing viewpoints that life is all positive or all negative doesn’t give us a true picture of how this form of existence operates. We can’t appreciate the sunshine, for example, without also experiencing the rain. The same applies across all of life’s events, and the sooner we understand and accept this, the better off we’ll be to make the most of this expression of reality.
Second, this realization introduces us to the concept of living in the moment. As conscious creation advocate Jane Roberts contended in her writings, the only point in time over which we have any direct control is the present. The past is behind us, and the future is yet to arrive (and could take myriad unforeseen forms). Yet many of us mistakenly try to take up residence in those other time frames, allowing them to skew our perspectives. We may be able to shape the direction in which our life heads, but that will ultimately be based on the beliefs we hold about it, many of which could be influenced by our past. Consequently, if we were to find our prevailing beliefs stuck in the malaise of disappointing circumstances that we experienced previously, it’s not unrealistic to think that we might continue to draw upon them in our present to characterize the future that lies ahead. Is that something we really want to do? As Roberts often observed, the point of power is in the present, so we had better make best use of that principle if we want to realize an existence that’s in line with our wishes.
If Carol wants to make the most of her life, such awareness is crucial. She’s spent much of the past two decades trapped by beliefs that life is typified by loss. First there was giving up her music career, then there was the death of her husband and then the passing of Hazel. But what of the friendship of her card partners? Her loving daughter? Her new drinking buddy? Her health and vitality? And, now, Bill (a name, ironically enough, shared by her deceased husband)? Those elements of her life surely can’t be characterized as “losses,” but do Carol’s beliefs allow her to fully appreciate those manifestations? She’s certainly got something to think about – as do we when it comes to assessing our own circumstances. The lesson may be coming to her rather well on into her life, but, as they say, better late than never.
“I’ll See You in My Dreams” is an emotional, heart-tugging comedy-drama that drives home its points well, even if it does so in an overly talky manner at times. Some well-considered tweaks in the writing and editing would have helped a lot in this regard. To its credit, the film makes effective use of comic relief, showing us the lighter moments we can enjoy in life (provided we allow ourselves to see them that way). The picture also features terrific performances across the board, especially Danner, who is already being looked on as a possible awards season contender. She has a terrific chemistry with the remainder of the ensemble, who turn in some of their best work here as well.
Owning our existence is something we all must do if we’re to understand how the reality we experience arises in our lives. That may not always be easy, but, when we embrace a perspective on life that accurately reflects its true nature, we give ourselves an opportunity to live it to the fullest. Should we do that, we’ll realize a richness of experience that we may have never thought possible, something that’s especially important when our days are waning. But, whether we learn the lesson early or later on in life, what matters most is that we get it, to make all those dreams come true.
Copyright © 2015, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Are you happy with your life? Does it bring you the satisfaction and fulfillment you seek? Or does it fall below expectations? If it comes up short, why do you think that’s so? Answers to these thorny questions may be elusive, but, when they reveal themselves, they may be full of surprises, especially when it comes to identifying who’s responsible for the nature of one’s existence. It’s an unlikely subject for exploration in a romantic comedy-drama, but that’s just what happens in the new heartfelt release, “I'll See You in My Dreams.”
Carol Petersen (Blythe Danner) knows a lot about love and loss. Having been widowed 20 years earlier, when her adoring husband was tragically killed in a plane crash, the spry 70-something now spends most of her days on her own, living alone in a small but comfortable home. She has a close circle of card-playing friends who live in a nearby retirement community (June Squibb, Rhea Perlman, Mary Kay Place), and she periodically receives visits from her daughter, Kath (Malin Akerman). But the fear of being hurt again is so strong that she rarely ventures outside her limited daily routine. It’s all very controlled and very safe but also very lonely.
Carol seems resigned to her fate (albeit with an often-forced cheerful resolve). Her friends try to involve her more in life, encouraging her to partake in activities like speed dating and going on group vacations. She appreciates their intentions, and sometimes she even follows their suggestions. For the most part, though, she’s content being a hermit. However, when more losses occur – most notably the passing of her faithful dog, Hazel – she finds she can’t hide from life’s disappointments forever.
Quite unexpectedly, Carol receives several significant nudges encouraging her to become re-engaged with life. First, she develops a chummy drinking buddy relationship with her youthful new pool man, Lloyd (Martin Starr), an aspiring musician in search of himself who feels a nearly constant sense of disappointment when things don’t work out in his career. Having been in the music business herself at one point, Carol identifies with his circumstances. But, more importantly, she feels for Lloyd, believing him to be far too young to be so woefully hopeless. She periodically joins him for drinks and karaoke sessions to prop up his spirits, opportunities for her to hear what he’s got – and through which she can show off what she can still do.
An even bigger surprise comes when she meets Bill Young (Sam Elliott), a handsome, sexy, wealthy retiree who lives in the same community as her bridge partners. The attraction and chemistry between the two is palpable and nearly instantaneous, but Carol shows some hesitation, fearing how she might react if things don’t work out. But, despite such reluctance, she also realizes that she’s still in the world of the living and that, if she wants the remainder of her time to be worthwhile, she had better become involved in it. The question she must ask herself, though, “Is that the right decision?”
Carol’s experience offers an excellent examination of matters of perspective. How does (or should) she respond to the circumstances that present themselves? Is disappointment something that gives us justification to retreat into solitude? Or is it something that’s part and parcel of life that we must learn to live with? Rolling with the punches might not be easy for many of us, but is it proper to let despair define our outlook on our existence? That is what Carol must come to decide.
Working through such circumstances could be considerably easier if we realize that our reactions are based on our beliefs, which, according to conscious creation theory, dictate the nature of the reality we experience. If Carol were to believe, based on what she’s gone through, that life inherently sucks, then she’ll get an existence in line with such thinking. However, if she were to believe that happiness and satisfaction are indeed possible, then it’s just as likely her reality will embody those qualities instead.
Under circumstances like these, it’s also important to understand how those conditions arise in the first place. Like all of us, Carol’s reality is based on her beliefs, which are faithfully reflected in the world around her. That scenario may not always be pleasant, but it does provide her with a valuable opportunity for a significant life lesson associated with the foregoing principles. If she has created those conditions, then there must have been some part of her who wanted to gain that experience, no matter how difficult it is at times.
Realizing that is relevant for two reasons. First, it provides us a better understanding of how physical reality works. It’s inherently filled with highs and lows, and the sooner we come to accept that, the more we’ll be able to glean from the experience. Naïvely embracing viewpoints that life is all positive or all negative doesn’t give us a true picture of how this form of existence operates. We can’t appreciate the sunshine, for example, without also experiencing the rain. The same applies across all of life’s events, and the sooner we understand and accept this, the better off we’ll be to make the most of this expression of reality.
Second, this realization introduces us to the concept of living in the moment. As conscious creation advocate Jane Roberts contended in her writings, the only point in time over which we have any direct control is the present. The past is behind us, and the future is yet to arrive (and could take myriad unforeseen forms). Yet many of us mistakenly try to take up residence in those other time frames, allowing them to skew our perspectives. We may be able to shape the direction in which our life heads, but that will ultimately be based on the beliefs we hold about it, many of which could be influenced by our past. Consequently, if we were to find our prevailing beliefs stuck in the malaise of disappointing circumstances that we experienced previously, it’s not unrealistic to think that we might continue to draw upon them in our present to characterize the future that lies ahead. Is that something we really want to do? As Roberts often observed, the point of power is in the present, so we had better make best use of that principle if we want to realize an existence that’s in line with our wishes.
If Carol wants to make the most of her life, such awareness is crucial. She’s spent much of the past two decades trapped by beliefs that life is typified by loss. First there was giving up her music career, then there was the death of her husband and then the passing of Hazel. But what of the friendship of her card partners? Her loving daughter? Her new drinking buddy? Her health and vitality? And, now, Bill (a name, ironically enough, shared by her deceased husband)? Those elements of her life surely can’t be characterized as “losses,” but do Carol’s beliefs allow her to fully appreciate those manifestations? She’s certainly got something to think about – as do we when it comes to assessing our own circumstances. The lesson may be coming to her rather well on into her life, but, as they say, better late than never.
“I’ll See You in My Dreams” is an emotional, heart-tugging comedy-drama that drives home its points well, even if it does so in an overly talky manner at times. Some well-considered tweaks in the writing and editing would have helped a lot in this regard. To its credit, the film makes effective use of comic relief, showing us the lighter moments we can enjoy in life (provided we allow ourselves to see them that way). The picture also features terrific performances across the board, especially Danner, who is already being looked on as a possible awards season contender. She has a terrific chemistry with the remainder of the ensemble, who turn in some of their best work here as well.
Owning our existence is something we all must do if we’re to understand how the reality we experience arises in our lives. That may not always be easy, but, when we embrace a perspective on life that accurately reflects its true nature, we give ourselves an opportunity to live it to the fullest. Should we do that, we’ll realize a richness of experience that we may have never thought possible, something that’s especially important when our days are waning. But, whether we learn the lesson early or later on in life, what matters most is that we get it, to make all those dreams come true.
Copyright © 2015, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
‘Tomorrowland’ asks, ‘What kind of world do we want?’
“Tomorrowland” (2015). Cast: George Clooney, Hugh Laurie, Britt Robertson, Raffey Cassidy, Tim McGraw, Kathryn Hahn, Keegan-Michael Key, Chris Bauer, Thomas Robinson, Pierce Gagnon, Shiloh Nelson. Director: Brad Bird. Screenplay: Damon Lindelof and Brad Bird. Story: Damon Lindelof, Brad Bird and Jeff Jensen. Web site. Trailer.
Is the world we live in something that we create, or is it something that’s capriciously thrust upon us? Consequently, should we look upon our circumstances with supreme optimism or eternal pessimism? Indeed, what are we to make of it all? In the end, there are no “right” or “wrong” answers to these questions, for it all ultimately depends on what we believe. And that’s where the story begins in the new summertime action-adventure, “Tomorrowland.”
In 1964, aspiring young inventor Frank Walker (Thomas Robinson) attends the New York World’s Fair in hopes of winning a prize in an inventors’ competition. He stakes his claim on his creation of a personal jetpack, a novel idea that, though fun and whimsical, doesn’t quite work. Even though he makes an impassioned case for the merits of his device, the head of the inventors’ contest, David Nix (Hugh Laurie), summarily dismisses the brainchild of the young Edison.
But, despite the flaws in Frank’s contraption, he and his device are not without fans, most notably a bright-eyed, articulate young girl named Athena (Raffey Cassidy), who seems to have some special sort of influence with Nix. Although she’s unable to secure an appeal for Frank’s case, she does possess the power to offer him something better – an introduction to a magical place where his sort of inspired thinking is celebrated (and where he just might be able to get his jetpack to work). Athena points the way to a special transporter that whisks away Frank to the miracle of Tomorrowland, a sparkling, awe-inspiring world where technologies beyond belief abound and where all of the hopes of a starry-eyed, dream-filled generation are fulfilled.
But is Tomorrowland too good to be true? And what of the world Frank left behind? That’s where the next phase of this story comes in.
Skip ahead to the present day, where a bright, high-spirited teen, Casey Newton (Britt Robertson), sees a world of potential in a world beset by despair. Despite a constant barrage of predictions involving everything from environmental degradation to global war to economic collapse, Casey views a future full of wonder, one where the promise of technology and enlightened thinking can turn around all of the world’s ills, provided its inhabitants make an effort to bring it into being.
In many ways, Casey is very much unlike those around her, especially since she’s one of the few who’s willing to take action to see her dreams come true. This sets her apart from most of her peers and captures the attention of someone who can help her realize her aspirations, a bright-eyed, articulate young girl named (you guessed it) Athena, the same mysterious facilitator who worked her magic 50 years earlier (and who apparently hasn’t aged a day since).
With the aid of a special Tomorrowland lapel pin, Athena provides her newest protégé with a glimpse of this magical place. Casey is initially bewildered but ultimately captivated and wants to see and experience more. Athena is pleased at Casey’s response, but this time there’s more at stake than just nurturing a prodigy’s scientific curiosity. The fate of two worlds hangs in the balance, and Casey holds the key to solving the problems of each. The question is, will she get an opportunity to prove herself?
To complicate matters, getting into Tomorrowland is considerably more difficult now than it was in 1964. Attaining this goal won’t be easy; in fact, it’s an undertaking that requires the technical expertise of someone who knows how to break through the seemingly impenetrable barrier between the worlds. That’s where the help of a now-grown up former visitor, Frank Walker (George Clooney), comes into play.
Convincing Frank to return to Tomorrowland may be easier said than done, however. His experience didn’t quite turn out as hoped for. With the promise of Tomorrowland falling short of expectations, he was forced to return to the world from which he came. And, with his view now sufficiently jaded, he has little desire to go back. But, when his own existence becomes threatened, he has no place to hide and no choice but to return. And so, before long, Frank, Athena and Casey are on their way to an appointment with destiny – and with an old nemesis, David Nix – an encounter with implications far beyond anything that any of them can believe. But, ironically enough, it’s their beliefs that may well prove to be their – and everyone else’s – salvation.
Most of us are no doubt familiar with the expression “Life is what you make of it.” That sentiment is, in essence, a simplified way of explaining the functioning of the practice of conscious creation, the philosophy that maintains we manifest our existence based on our thoughts, beliefs and intents. It’s a concept that works both individually, with regard to the materialization of our personal realities, and collectively, when it comes to the creation of our shared experiences. And, when the philosophy is understood in these terms, it’s easy to see where the central narrative of “Tomorrowland” is coming from.
In a nutshell, the film asks us, “What kind of a world do we want to create for ourselves?” We clearly have a choice in the matter. We can either choose to manifest one in which we saddle ourselves with seemingly unsolvable challenges, or we can create one in each we take action to address our problems and see our most cherished dreams realized. So which one will it be? The answer rests with us. But, whichever option we select, we will get the reality we concentrate on – and the one we deserve.
Some might take issue with this idea, insisting that there are elements outside of our control. But, as one of the film’s principals so astutely points out, our beliefs dictate the reality that arises, no matter what form it may take. This is even true for those who believe they have no say in the matter, and, though they may attempt to absolve themselves from the process of how their existence arises, they ultimately can’t. A reality characterized by seemingly unsolvable challenges inherently stems from beliefs that make such an existence possible, regardless of whether or not we choose to accept or deny the veracity of that notion.
One could legitimately ask why anyone would want to manifest an existence that operates along those lines. While a number of answers are possible, it most likely has to do with learning a valuable life lesson, one associated with the concept of responsibility. Indeed, when the deck seems irretrievably stacked against us, it’s easy to roll over and say, “There’s nothing I can do to fix this.” But a disavowal like this, no matter how strongly felt, fails to acknowledge who manifested this reality in the first place. And, when anyone who attempts to deny such involvement comes to realize otherwise, it’s quite an eye-opening experience. With responsibility suddenly staring us squarely in the face, we’re forced into changing our outlook (and, one would hope, our manifesting beliefs) to correct the problem before it’s too late.
That can be a very hard, but highly significant, lesson, one that can set us on a more beneficial path for the future. One would hope that such an enlightened awareness would not only help us fix the problems at hand, but also prompt us into not creating those issues in the first place.
“Tomorrowland” drives home that point loud and clear. When we look at our own world through the lens of its depiction in this film, it’s easy to see how we’ve allowed our beliefs to paint us into the corner in which we now find ourselves. It’s a perspective that’s continually reinforced, too, through our media reports, our government pronouncements and even our entertainment vehicles. If we realize that, then the question for us is, “Do we want to keep doing that?” If so, as stated before, we get a reality based on what we concentrate on. But, if not, then perhaps following another path would be preferable, one in which the concept of solution, not surrender, is celebrated. In either case, though, whatever we experience originates with us and our beliefs.
Surrender poses other problems, too. By engaging in this practice, we give away our power and thus run the risk of allowing others to take advantage of the situation. They’re free to further their own belief agendas, potentially placing us in even further jeopardy, perhaps under an accelerated timetable. Such a scenario reveals itself in “Tomorowland,” strongly cautioning us to take back our power while we still have the chance.
In the end, we need to ask ourselves, “Is the glass half-full or half-empty?” Whatever answer we come up with will determine the results we get when it comes to our manifestation efforts. And, for its part, “Tomorrowland” nudges us in the ribs to clue us in to the correct response.
If it sounds like “Tomorrowland” is all heavy-handed moralizing, don’t be misled; it’s not. In addition to its insightful message, the film provides a fun-filled romp from start to finish, with lots of subtle and laugh-out-loud humor. It also sports superb special effects, surprisingly good acting for an action-adventure movie and great period reproductions, especially in its faithful re-creation of the 1964 World’s Fair. The overall package is very much in the tradition of old live action Disney films, and it’s refreshing to see the studio getting back to doing something it once did so exceptionally well.
The film is currently in wide distribution, including in a number of IMAX® theaters. If you have an opportunity to see it in this format, do so. The mammoth screen and surround sound system make this picture pop, greatly enhancing the moviegoing experience. It engenders the kind of wide-eyed wonder that its subject matter so effectively embodies, making it possible for even the most mature among us to leave the theater feeling like giddy little kids again. What fun!
As someone who attended the World’s Fair depicted in the film, I clearly recall the sense of hope and optimism that pervaded the exhibition. It was a time when nearly everyone looked forward to the future with a sense of infinite possibilities. But, somewhere along the line since then, many of us seem to have lost our way, gradually descending into an ever-widening chasm of despair and cynicism. Our previous experience, though, aptly demonstrates that it need not be that way. No matter what we may decide, it all comes down to our beliefs and what we do with them. We can manifest a destiny that will assuredly dash all our dreams. Or we can create a future full of whatever promise we imbue it with. Take your pick. But, for my money, I know what I want to experience, and “Tomorrowland” does much to help light the way.
Copyright © 2015, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Is the world we live in something that we create, or is it something that’s capriciously thrust upon us? Consequently, should we look upon our circumstances with supreme optimism or eternal pessimism? Indeed, what are we to make of it all? In the end, there are no “right” or “wrong” answers to these questions, for it all ultimately depends on what we believe. And that’s where the story begins in the new summertime action-adventure, “Tomorrowland.”
In 1964, aspiring young inventor Frank Walker (Thomas Robinson) attends the New York World’s Fair in hopes of winning a prize in an inventors’ competition. He stakes his claim on his creation of a personal jetpack, a novel idea that, though fun and whimsical, doesn’t quite work. Even though he makes an impassioned case for the merits of his device, the head of the inventors’ contest, David Nix (Hugh Laurie), summarily dismisses the brainchild of the young Edison.
But, despite the flaws in Frank’s contraption, he and his device are not without fans, most notably a bright-eyed, articulate young girl named Athena (Raffey Cassidy), who seems to have some special sort of influence with Nix. Although she’s unable to secure an appeal for Frank’s case, she does possess the power to offer him something better – an introduction to a magical place where his sort of inspired thinking is celebrated (and where he just might be able to get his jetpack to work). Athena points the way to a special transporter that whisks away Frank to the miracle of Tomorrowland, a sparkling, awe-inspiring world where technologies beyond belief abound and where all of the hopes of a starry-eyed, dream-filled generation are fulfilled.
But is Tomorrowland too good to be true? And what of the world Frank left behind? That’s where the next phase of this story comes in.
Skip ahead to the present day, where a bright, high-spirited teen, Casey Newton (Britt Robertson), sees a world of potential in a world beset by despair. Despite a constant barrage of predictions involving everything from environmental degradation to global war to economic collapse, Casey views a future full of wonder, one where the promise of technology and enlightened thinking can turn around all of the world’s ills, provided its inhabitants make an effort to bring it into being.
In many ways, Casey is very much unlike those around her, especially since she’s one of the few who’s willing to take action to see her dreams come true. This sets her apart from most of her peers and captures the attention of someone who can help her realize her aspirations, a bright-eyed, articulate young girl named (you guessed it) Athena, the same mysterious facilitator who worked her magic 50 years earlier (and who apparently hasn’t aged a day since).
With the aid of a special Tomorrowland lapel pin, Athena provides her newest protégé with a glimpse of this magical place. Casey is initially bewildered but ultimately captivated and wants to see and experience more. Athena is pleased at Casey’s response, but this time there’s more at stake than just nurturing a prodigy’s scientific curiosity. The fate of two worlds hangs in the balance, and Casey holds the key to solving the problems of each. The question is, will she get an opportunity to prove herself?
To complicate matters, getting into Tomorrowland is considerably more difficult now than it was in 1964. Attaining this goal won’t be easy; in fact, it’s an undertaking that requires the technical expertise of someone who knows how to break through the seemingly impenetrable barrier between the worlds. That’s where the help of a now-grown up former visitor, Frank Walker (George Clooney), comes into play.
Convincing Frank to return to Tomorrowland may be easier said than done, however. His experience didn’t quite turn out as hoped for. With the promise of Tomorrowland falling short of expectations, he was forced to return to the world from which he came. And, with his view now sufficiently jaded, he has little desire to go back. But, when his own existence becomes threatened, he has no place to hide and no choice but to return. And so, before long, Frank, Athena and Casey are on their way to an appointment with destiny – and with an old nemesis, David Nix – an encounter with implications far beyond anything that any of them can believe. But, ironically enough, it’s their beliefs that may well prove to be their – and everyone else’s – salvation.
Most of us are no doubt familiar with the expression “Life is what you make of it.” That sentiment is, in essence, a simplified way of explaining the functioning of the practice of conscious creation, the philosophy that maintains we manifest our existence based on our thoughts, beliefs and intents. It’s a concept that works both individually, with regard to the materialization of our personal realities, and collectively, when it comes to the creation of our shared experiences. And, when the philosophy is understood in these terms, it’s easy to see where the central narrative of “Tomorrowland” is coming from.
In a nutshell, the film asks us, “What kind of a world do we want to create for ourselves?” We clearly have a choice in the matter. We can either choose to manifest one in which we saddle ourselves with seemingly unsolvable challenges, or we can create one in each we take action to address our problems and see our most cherished dreams realized. So which one will it be? The answer rests with us. But, whichever option we select, we will get the reality we concentrate on – and the one we deserve.
Some might take issue with this idea, insisting that there are elements outside of our control. But, as one of the film’s principals so astutely points out, our beliefs dictate the reality that arises, no matter what form it may take. This is even true for those who believe they have no say in the matter, and, though they may attempt to absolve themselves from the process of how their existence arises, they ultimately can’t. A reality characterized by seemingly unsolvable challenges inherently stems from beliefs that make such an existence possible, regardless of whether or not we choose to accept or deny the veracity of that notion.
One could legitimately ask why anyone would want to manifest an existence that operates along those lines. While a number of answers are possible, it most likely has to do with learning a valuable life lesson, one associated with the concept of responsibility. Indeed, when the deck seems irretrievably stacked against us, it’s easy to roll over and say, “There’s nothing I can do to fix this.” But a disavowal like this, no matter how strongly felt, fails to acknowledge who manifested this reality in the first place. And, when anyone who attempts to deny such involvement comes to realize otherwise, it’s quite an eye-opening experience. With responsibility suddenly staring us squarely in the face, we’re forced into changing our outlook (and, one would hope, our manifesting beliefs) to correct the problem before it’s too late.
That can be a very hard, but highly significant, lesson, one that can set us on a more beneficial path for the future. One would hope that such an enlightened awareness would not only help us fix the problems at hand, but also prompt us into not creating those issues in the first place.
“Tomorrowland” drives home that point loud and clear. When we look at our own world through the lens of its depiction in this film, it’s easy to see how we’ve allowed our beliefs to paint us into the corner in which we now find ourselves. It’s a perspective that’s continually reinforced, too, through our media reports, our government pronouncements and even our entertainment vehicles. If we realize that, then the question for us is, “Do we want to keep doing that?” If so, as stated before, we get a reality based on what we concentrate on. But, if not, then perhaps following another path would be preferable, one in which the concept of solution, not surrender, is celebrated. In either case, though, whatever we experience originates with us and our beliefs.
Surrender poses other problems, too. By engaging in this practice, we give away our power and thus run the risk of allowing others to take advantage of the situation. They’re free to further their own belief agendas, potentially placing us in even further jeopardy, perhaps under an accelerated timetable. Such a scenario reveals itself in “Tomorowland,” strongly cautioning us to take back our power while we still have the chance.
In the end, we need to ask ourselves, “Is the glass half-full or half-empty?” Whatever answer we come up with will determine the results we get when it comes to our manifestation efforts. And, for its part, “Tomorrowland” nudges us in the ribs to clue us in to the correct response.
If it sounds like “Tomorrowland” is all heavy-handed moralizing, don’t be misled; it’s not. In addition to its insightful message, the film provides a fun-filled romp from start to finish, with lots of subtle and laugh-out-loud humor. It also sports superb special effects, surprisingly good acting for an action-adventure movie and great period reproductions, especially in its faithful re-creation of the 1964 World’s Fair. The overall package is very much in the tradition of old live action Disney films, and it’s refreshing to see the studio getting back to doing something it once did so exceptionally well.
The film is currently in wide distribution, including in a number of IMAX® theaters. If you have an opportunity to see it in this format, do so. The mammoth screen and surround sound system make this picture pop, greatly enhancing the moviegoing experience. It engenders the kind of wide-eyed wonder that its subject matter so effectively embodies, making it possible for even the most mature among us to leave the theater feeling like giddy little kids again. What fun!
As someone who attended the World’s Fair depicted in the film, I clearly recall the sense of hope and optimism that pervaded the exhibition. It was a time when nearly everyone looked forward to the future with a sense of infinite possibilities. But, somewhere along the line since then, many of us seem to have lost our way, gradually descending into an ever-widening chasm of despair and cynicism. Our previous experience, though, aptly demonstrates that it need not be that way. No matter what we may decide, it all comes down to our beliefs and what we do with them. We can manifest a destiny that will assuredly dash all our dreams. Or we can create a future full of whatever promise we imbue it with. Take your pick. But, for my money, I know what I want to experience, and “Tomorrowland” does much to help light the way.
Copyright © 2015, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Thursday, May 21, 2015
‘Madding Crowd’ celebrates choice, independence, discernment
“Far from the Madding Crowd” (2015). Cast: Carey Mulligan, Michael Sheen, Matthias Schoenaerts, Tom Sturridge, Juno Temple, Jessica Barden. Director: Thomas Vinterberg. Screenplay: David Nicholls. Book: Thomas Hardy, Far from the Madding Crowd. Web site. Trailer.
Many of us are favorably impressed by those savvy individuals who exude confidence and have a knack for self-assuredness. Their independent spirits make them objects of emulation. Indeed, who wouldn’t want to be like them? Regrettably, a good many of us look upon them in intimidation or envy, wishing we could follow their leads (and frequently believing that we can’t). But looking to their experiences is exactly what we should do if we ever hope to change our own circumstances. One particularly inspiring example is more than amply set by the Victorian heroine in the classic Thomas Hardy novel, “Far from the Madding Crowd,” recently released in a beautiful new cinematic adaptation.
Anyone who thinks they can “tame” Bathsheba Everdene (Carey Mulligan) is in for a rude awakening. Even though the independent, self-confident, charismatic young woman’s approach to life is rather uncommon for 19th Century England, she makes it perfectly clear that she will do as she will, no matter what others may say or think (especially men). She particularly enjoys challenges, and, when she inherits a sizable though somewhat-rundown farm from her uncle, she gets her chance to prove to everyone just what she can do. As the mistress of her estate, she vows to reverse the farm’s fortunes – and to expand upon those she’s already amassed.
Bathsheba Everdene (Carey Mulligan, right), mistress of a large though somewhat-rundown farm, seeks to reverse the manor’s fortunes with the aid of her trusted confidante, Liddy (Jessica Barden, left), in the latest cinematic adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s classic Victorian novel, “Far from the Madding Crowd.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
But, even with that said, there are those who would like to see Bathsheba bend to their charms (if not their wills). Gabriel Oak (Matthias Schoenaerts), a kindly, albeit socially awkward neighboring farmer who comes to work on Miss Everdene’s manor, would welcome the opportunity to make Bathsheba his wife. However, Mr. Oak is not without competition in this pursuit. William Boldwood (Michael Sheen), the reserved, middle-aged owner of a prosperous neighboring estate, also seeks Miss Everdene’s hand, though he mostly winds up frustrated, quietly pining for her from afar. And then there is Sgt. Francis Troy (Tom Sturridge), a handsome but somewhat reckless young soldier who believes he was jilted by his fiancée, Fanny Robbin (Juno Temple), who, because of a miscommunication, accidently left him standing at the altar; he now seeks a new path in life and believes he’s found it through a seemingly chance encounter with Miss Everdene.
Estate owner Bathsheba Everdene (Carey Mulligan, left) routinely seeks the advice of farmhand and would-be suitor Gabriel Oak (Matthias Schoenaerts, right) in director Thomas Vinterberg’s “Far from the Madding Crowd.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
Bathsheba is quite taken with all the attention, and, to some degree, she seems to relish the flattery. She’s also quietly pleased to have so many courtship choices available to her. But then there’s the matter of preserving her independence, which she values tremendously. She often wonders what would happen to that if she were to take a husband. Would marrying be worth it? Would she have to subvert her natural tendencies and sacrifice her freedom simply because she’s become someone’s wife? What should she do?
As Bathsheba attempts to sort out her options, she seeks the advice of others, most notably her trusted confidante, Liddy (Jessica Barden). But, ironically enough, she also finds herself increasingly consulting Mr. Oak, whom she discreetly comes to regard as much a friend as a potential spouse. At the same time, Gabriel grows more at ease in his dealings with Bathsheba, which allows him to become more comfortable in freely speaking his mind, letting her know what he really thinks, whether in matters of farm management or in those of the heart.
Mr. Oak’s candor occasionally strikes a nerve with Bathsheba, causing her to become uncharacteristically defensive, revealing a hitherto unseen vulnerability. And, when she informs him that her romantic inclinations are veering in other directions, their relationship turns decidedly tense, even confrontational. But, to her credit, Miss Everdene also recognizes the sincerity of Gabriel’s advice, prompting her to carefully consider it when making decisions and taking action (sometimes in the moment but at other times in hindsight), all of which carry profound implications for her future. What will she do?
Estate owner William Boldwood (Michael Sheen, right) warily courts the favor of the owner of a neighboring manor, Bathsheba Everdene (Carey Mulligan, left), in “Far from the Madding Crowd.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
Thankfully, Bathsheba has a strong sense of self. She has a firm handle on what she believes about herself, which stands her in good stead when it comes to exercising her conscious creation skills, the means by which she manifests the reality she experiences. Indeed, knowing oneself in this way is crucial for mastering one’s personal power, which is essential for creating an existence sufficiently in line with one’s hopes, wishes and dreams.
Knowing ourselves also means knowing that we have the power of choice at our disposal at any given time. Bathsheba unreservedly exercises that power, too, as evidenced by the arrays of options she routinely draws into her reality. For instance, she has three would-be suitors vying for her hand, and she could easily choose any of them – or none of them – depending on what she believes ultimately best suits her. We should all be so fortunate to possess such prescience (especially given how many of us fail to recognize these fundamental capabilities in the first place).
However, even with an awareness of the foregoing, we may also allow our beliefs to become inflexible, perhaps even dogmatic. This could easily interfere with our sense of discernment in evaluating the possibilities available to us. That can even happen to someone as self-aware as Bathsheba, who is so invested in her sense of independence that it might blind her to some of her options. She thus runs the risk of summarily ruling out opportunities that involve interaction with others that may well work to her benefit. In circumstances like this, knowing when to distinguish one’s beliefs from one’s dogma is critical in finding one’s destiny.
Sgt. Francis Troy (Tom Sturridge, right), a young soldier who believes he was jilted by his fiancée, seeks a new start in life by wooing the fair Bathsheba Everdene (Carey Mulligan, left) during a chance encounter in the latest cinematic remake of the classic Thomas Hardy novel, “Far from the Madding Crowd.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
Fortunately, Bathsheba has the good sense to seek counsel when the need arises. She might not always like what she hears, but she at least allows herself to be open to the advice. Whether she acts upon such guidance – by incorporating it into her existing beliefs – is another matter, however, and one that’s obviously up to her. But, as an adept conscious creator, she’s well aware that, to achieve the results she wants – those that further her sense of personal well-being – she must assess all of the intellectual and intuitive input available to her to formulate suitable beliefs with that goal in mind.
For someone as headstrong as Bathsheba, some might view her reliance on such “outside” advice as a weakness, a deficiency in her capability to make her own decisions. But, as anyone who truly leads a life as a self-actualized conscious creator knows, being able to admit that we do not have all the answers, and leaving ourselves open to all available information to make astute decisions, is actually a sign of personal strength. The capability to honestly acknowledge the strength (and extent) of our self-awareness ultimately allows us to more effectively pursue our sense of personal happiness and satisfaction. If you need proof, just ask Bathsheba.
This latest adaptation of “Far from the Madding Crowd” (having previously been made as a theatrical release in 1967, a silent film in 1915 and a made-for-TV movie in 1998) is a sumptuously beautiful production. The picture features excellent period piece production values, fine acting, a grand, swirling soundtrack, and exquisite cinematography (though, admittedly, there is some peculiar camera work in several sequences). The story is generally faithful to the source material, with only minor variations that do not substantially alter the original narrative. All in all, this release is yet another fine offering from director Thomas Vinterberg, who consistently proves himself time and again to be one of today’s most skilled (and underrated) filmmakers.
Fanny Robbin (Juno Temple), the fiancée of a handsome young soldier, meets an unexpected fate on her way to the altar in “Far from the Madding Crowd.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
Even though awards season is still months away, it’s not too early to start looking at contenders for possible consideration, and “Far from the Madding Crowd” presents multiple possibilities in that regard, particularly in the technical categories. However, its performances are also worthy of note, especially Mulligan, who easily gives one of the best female lead portrayals so far this year, and Sheen, whose subtle depiction of the lovelorn Mr. Boldwood is full of nuance and emotional power. Here’s hoping these performances are not forgotten when the nominating ballots are mailed out.
In William Shakespeare’s classic opus Hamlet, wise old Polonius counsels “To thine own self be true.” That is undoubtedly astute advice, and it’s particularly relevant when we engage our conscious creation skills. By keenly scrutinizing our sense of self, judiciously exercising our power of choice and robustly employing our discernment skills, we have an opportunity to manifest an existence that brings us the satisfaction and contentment we so earnestly desire. This film beautifully illustrates how such conditions arise, showing us the way to live lives that place us in circumstances that foster and nurture our personal growth and well-being – and that take us far from the madding crowd.
Copyright © 2015, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Many of us are favorably impressed by those savvy individuals who exude confidence and have a knack for self-assuredness. Their independent spirits make them objects of emulation. Indeed, who wouldn’t want to be like them? Regrettably, a good many of us look upon them in intimidation or envy, wishing we could follow their leads (and frequently believing that we can’t). But looking to their experiences is exactly what we should do if we ever hope to change our own circumstances. One particularly inspiring example is more than amply set by the Victorian heroine in the classic Thomas Hardy novel, “Far from the Madding Crowd,” recently released in a beautiful new cinematic adaptation.
Anyone who thinks they can “tame” Bathsheba Everdene (Carey Mulligan) is in for a rude awakening. Even though the independent, self-confident, charismatic young woman’s approach to life is rather uncommon for 19th Century England, she makes it perfectly clear that she will do as she will, no matter what others may say or think (especially men). She particularly enjoys challenges, and, when she inherits a sizable though somewhat-rundown farm from her uncle, she gets her chance to prove to everyone just what she can do. As the mistress of her estate, she vows to reverse the farm’s fortunes – and to expand upon those she’s already amassed.
But, even with that said, there are those who would like to see Bathsheba bend to their charms (if not their wills). Gabriel Oak (Matthias Schoenaerts), a kindly, albeit socially awkward neighboring farmer who comes to work on Miss Everdene’s manor, would welcome the opportunity to make Bathsheba his wife. However, Mr. Oak is not without competition in this pursuit. William Boldwood (Michael Sheen), the reserved, middle-aged owner of a prosperous neighboring estate, also seeks Miss Everdene’s hand, though he mostly winds up frustrated, quietly pining for her from afar. And then there is Sgt. Francis Troy (Tom Sturridge), a handsome but somewhat reckless young soldier who believes he was jilted by his fiancée, Fanny Robbin (Juno Temple), who, because of a miscommunication, accidently left him standing at the altar; he now seeks a new path in life and believes he’s found it through a seemingly chance encounter with Miss Everdene.
Bathsheba is quite taken with all the attention, and, to some degree, she seems to relish the flattery. She’s also quietly pleased to have so many courtship choices available to her. But then there’s the matter of preserving her independence, which she values tremendously. She often wonders what would happen to that if she were to take a husband. Would marrying be worth it? Would she have to subvert her natural tendencies and sacrifice her freedom simply because she’s become someone’s wife? What should she do?
As Bathsheba attempts to sort out her options, she seeks the advice of others, most notably her trusted confidante, Liddy (Jessica Barden). But, ironically enough, she also finds herself increasingly consulting Mr. Oak, whom she discreetly comes to regard as much a friend as a potential spouse. At the same time, Gabriel grows more at ease in his dealings with Bathsheba, which allows him to become more comfortable in freely speaking his mind, letting her know what he really thinks, whether in matters of farm management or in those of the heart.
Mr. Oak’s candor occasionally strikes a nerve with Bathsheba, causing her to become uncharacteristically defensive, revealing a hitherto unseen vulnerability. And, when she informs him that her romantic inclinations are veering in other directions, their relationship turns decidedly tense, even confrontational. But, to her credit, Miss Everdene also recognizes the sincerity of Gabriel’s advice, prompting her to carefully consider it when making decisions and taking action (sometimes in the moment but at other times in hindsight), all of which carry profound implications for her future. What will she do?
Thankfully, Bathsheba has a strong sense of self. She has a firm handle on what she believes about herself, which stands her in good stead when it comes to exercising her conscious creation skills, the means by which she manifests the reality she experiences. Indeed, knowing oneself in this way is crucial for mastering one’s personal power, which is essential for creating an existence sufficiently in line with one’s hopes, wishes and dreams.
Knowing ourselves also means knowing that we have the power of choice at our disposal at any given time. Bathsheba unreservedly exercises that power, too, as evidenced by the arrays of options she routinely draws into her reality. For instance, she has three would-be suitors vying for her hand, and she could easily choose any of them – or none of them – depending on what she believes ultimately best suits her. We should all be so fortunate to possess such prescience (especially given how many of us fail to recognize these fundamental capabilities in the first place).
However, even with an awareness of the foregoing, we may also allow our beliefs to become inflexible, perhaps even dogmatic. This could easily interfere with our sense of discernment in evaluating the possibilities available to us. That can even happen to someone as self-aware as Bathsheba, who is so invested in her sense of independence that it might blind her to some of her options. She thus runs the risk of summarily ruling out opportunities that involve interaction with others that may well work to her benefit. In circumstances like this, knowing when to distinguish one’s beliefs from one’s dogma is critical in finding one’s destiny.
Fortunately, Bathsheba has the good sense to seek counsel when the need arises. She might not always like what she hears, but she at least allows herself to be open to the advice. Whether she acts upon such guidance – by incorporating it into her existing beliefs – is another matter, however, and one that’s obviously up to her. But, as an adept conscious creator, she’s well aware that, to achieve the results she wants – those that further her sense of personal well-being – she must assess all of the intellectual and intuitive input available to her to formulate suitable beliefs with that goal in mind.
For someone as headstrong as Bathsheba, some might view her reliance on such “outside” advice as a weakness, a deficiency in her capability to make her own decisions. But, as anyone who truly leads a life as a self-actualized conscious creator knows, being able to admit that we do not have all the answers, and leaving ourselves open to all available information to make astute decisions, is actually a sign of personal strength. The capability to honestly acknowledge the strength (and extent) of our self-awareness ultimately allows us to more effectively pursue our sense of personal happiness and satisfaction. If you need proof, just ask Bathsheba.
This latest adaptation of “Far from the Madding Crowd” (having previously been made as a theatrical release in 1967, a silent film in 1915 and a made-for-TV movie in 1998) is a sumptuously beautiful production. The picture features excellent period piece production values, fine acting, a grand, swirling soundtrack, and exquisite cinematography (though, admittedly, there is some peculiar camera work in several sequences). The story is generally faithful to the source material, with only minor variations that do not substantially alter the original narrative. All in all, this release is yet another fine offering from director Thomas Vinterberg, who consistently proves himself time and again to be one of today’s most skilled (and underrated) filmmakers.
Even though awards season is still months away, it’s not too early to start looking at contenders for possible consideration, and “Far from the Madding Crowd” presents multiple possibilities in that regard, particularly in the technical categories. However, its performances are also worthy of note, especially Mulligan, who easily gives one of the best female lead portrayals so far this year, and Sheen, whose subtle depiction of the lovelorn Mr. Boldwood is full of nuance and emotional power. Here’s hoping these performances are not forgotten when the nominating ballots are mailed out.
In William Shakespeare’s classic opus Hamlet, wise old Polonius counsels “To thine own self be true.” That is undoubtedly astute advice, and it’s particularly relevant when we engage our conscious creation skills. By keenly scrutinizing our sense of self, judiciously exercising our power of choice and robustly employing our discernment skills, we have an opportunity to manifest an existence that brings us the satisfaction and contentment we so earnestly desire. This film beautifully illustrates how such conditions arise, showing us the way to live lives that place us in circumstances that foster and nurture our personal growth and well-being – and that take us far from the madding crowd.
Copyright © 2015, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
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