These circumstances were difficult to reconcile for many conflicted community members, such as Jean Newman (Rosy McEwen), a fictional phys ed teacher at an English secondary school. The divorced educator started a new life after leaving her husband, exploring her feelings for women and becoming involved in a passionate relationship with Viv (Kerrie Hayes), an outspoken advocate for LGBTQ+ rights. However, despite this blossoming romance, Jean has kept quiet about her status, especially at her job, the type of highly visible position that has become an easy target for those seeking to rein in gay and lesbian individuals, all in hopes that their sanctimonious efforts will curtail the potentially compromising and “promiscuous” behavior of these alleged social deviants. Jean would like to be more open about herself, but she knows that doing so could jeopardize her career, particularly with the Thatcher government’s initiative to pass Section 28, legislation aimed at prohibiting activities openly promoting homosexuality, a bill carrying wide-sweeping implications for the LGBTQ+ community. At the same time, however, laying low is also straining relations with Viv, given that she’s uninhibited about openly being herself – and wishes that Jean would be, too.
Jean is constantly reminded of her circumstances, too. In addition to the challenges of maintaining a low profile at work, she also struggles to do the same in her relations with relatives, such as her sister, Sasha (Aoife Kennan), her brother-in-law, Tim (Scott Turnbull), and her young nephew, Sammy (Dexter Heads). She’s often asked about why she divorced, as well as if there are any new men in her life, questions that she’s increasingly having trouble deflecting. But these issues are nothing compared to what she’s about to face.
When a transfer student arrives at Jean’s school, she has her suspicions about the new pupil. That speculation is soon confirmed when she spots the young woman, Lois (Lucy Halliday), at a gay bar one evening. Even though Lois is clearly under age, she nevertheless manages to pass for being old enough and fits right into the pub’s lively crowd. And, when Lois begins to behave in a flamboyant manner, Jean grows concerned. Despite efforts to maintain her distance, Jean pulls Lois aside and advises her to tone things down, fearing that she’ll become a target for the kind of scorn that’s surfacing more prevalently in British society. In doing this, however, Viv spies Jean’s actions and grows seriously upset. At first, Viv erroneously suspects that Jean is hitting on Lois, a prospect that hurts her feelings. But, when she finds out the real reason behind Jean’s behavior – that she’s actively encouraging Lois to hide her true self – Viv is even more disappointed, given that her partner is openly urging the young woman to deny her true feelings to herself, something that genuinely offends the activist’s sensibilities.
High school phys ed teacher Jean Newman (Rosy McEwen, center right) enjoys a night out with her partner, Viv (Kerrie Hayes, center left), and friends at a local gay night spot in writer-director Georgia Oakley’s debut feature, “Blue Jean,” available for streaming online. Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.
And this is just the beginning. Circumstances get further out of hand at school when Siobhan (Lydia Page), one of Lois’s mean-spirited classmates, skillfully attempts to entrap her in an alleged act of sexual assault in the girls’ locker room, an incident that Jean clandestinely witnesses – and about which she knows the truth. The event subsequently puts Jean in yet another dicey situation: How is she supposed to testify about what she saw when the girls are brought in for questioning by school authorities? She wants to protect Lois, but what is she supposed to say? Should she tell the truth, risking the reputations of both students? Or should she take a “protective” stance similar to what she advocated at the bar several nights before? But, more importantly, what will Jean’s actions in this case say about her strength of character and willingness to be herself? Both options represent potentially perilous paths, but what will she do? But, even more so, what should she do? And what will that mean for the future of her relationship with her family, her partnership with Viv and her employability as a teacher in an increasingly less tolerant society?
Circumstances like these have long hampered the growth and freedom of those in the LGBTQ+ community. That’s been especially true when society’s powerful elements have sought to hold back such individuals with the force of law and social ostracism, regardless of how unscrupulous and patently unfair such practices might be. But, by the 1980s, many of the community’s constituents began to fight back, efforts that brought about some initial reforms. At the same time, though, these efforts also generated a reactionary response among those seeking to preserve the status quo, as evidenced in this story.
Given these conditions, where is one supposed to stand? That all depends on one’s beliefs, and they’re important considering the role they play in the manifestation of one’s existence, a product of the conscious creation process, the philosophy that maintains these intangible resources are responsible for the reality we experience. It’s unclear how many of us are aware of this school of thought, but, in reviewing the evidence with regard to its viability, it becomes fairly clear that there’s an undeniable connection between the two.
This situation, however, poses a particularly powerful conundrum: Considering the forces at work here, what is one supposed to believe? It’s only natural to want to be yourself, but what if acting on that belief could get you fired from your job, disowned by your family, and/or shunned or ridiculed by society? Many would legitimately see those possible outcomes as powerful incentives to intentionally maintain a low profile.
But isn’t such an attitude giving license to a willfully exclusionary and discriminatory practice? Doesn’t it represent a fundamental compromise of one’s values? And doesn’t it undermine whatever progress has been made toward implementing needed reform and equalizing the prevailing circumstances? That’s certainly what many LGBTQ+ activists quietly believed for a long time – and what they were railing against when countermeasures were being effected to reverse the gains that the community had made at the time.
High school student Lois Jackson (Lucy Halliday) explores her emerging lesbian sensibilities in 1980s England in writer-director Georgia Oakley’s debut feature, “Blue Jean,” available for streaming online. Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.
While Jean’s outlook is admittedly understandable, consider the costs of maintaining it. To begin with, it means upholding a fabricated façade that doesn’t represent her true self, putting forth a false reflection of her innate character. Then it carries potentially serious consequences for her relationship with Viv, given that there would be a fundamental disconnect between them and their respective beliefs about their lives and themselves. Keeping up such a front and sustaining a partnership that’s inherently unbalanced takes a lot of work. Is that something Jean could realistically do for the long term? And, even if she could, how happy could she be with such an arrangement? At some point, she’s bound to tire of having to artificially force such beliefs upon herself, and where would that leave her? Indeed, where would she stand in connection with her sense of personal integrity?
Ultimately, scenarios like this come down to a matter of choice when it comes to the beliefs to which we adhere. Granted, the choices involved may indeed be difficult, but we must nevertheless decide what we can live with and what would suit us best. Living a lie is rarely a workable option, something that Jean comes to see in rather short order in light of the fallout she experiences because of her choices. So it’s at that point where she has to ask herself, “Can I do this for the long run?” In cases like this, it often doesn’t take long to see how honesty really is the best policy, particularly when it comes to making decisions for ourselves, our lives and our future.
For the record, despite strong opposition by the UK’s LGBTQ+ community, Section 28 was successfully passed and implemented by the Thatcher government in 1988, forcing many organizations like student support groups to significantly curtail or cease operations at the time. However, with changing fortunes (and beliefs!) in the community and society at large in subsequent years, it was eventually repealed in Scotland in 2000 and in England and Wales in 2003. Overturning the law was a major victory for the LGBTQ+ community, proving that inspired beliefs, backed by zealous actions, can yield noble and noteworthy results. It opened the door for further LGBTQ+ reforms both in the UK and elsewhere. However, this sad chapter in the community’s history also serves as a cautionary tale to those who might be tempted to let their guard down, as evidenced by the emergence of pending anti-gay legislation in a number of US states. The LGBTQ+ community’s belief work must thus remain vigilant to avoid return trips down those outmoded paths, and this film provides a potent reminder of that.
It wasn’t all that long ago when the LGBTQ+ community not only didn’t have legal protections for its rights, but also faced blatant discrimination against its constituents. As “Blue Jean” illustrates, this was true even in supposedly “civilized” and “progressive” societies like those found in North America and Europe. Writer-director Georgia Oakley’s debut feature does a fine (if at times somewhat predictable) job of depicting the effects these conditions had on both the public and personal lives of these individuals, an effort that earned the film a 2022 BAFTA Award nomination for Best Debut by a British Writer, Director or Producer. Admittedly, the picture’s opening act meanders a bit, but, once it gets on track, when the emergence of various damning revelations threatens to blow things wide open, it steadily grows more powerful and heartfelt. These attributes are supported by the fine performances of the cast, solid writing, and its skillfully crafted cinematography and production design, fittingly enhanced by its ubiquitous atmospheric azure tones. It effectively shows us how Jean became so blue – and how we should seek to prevent the same from happening to the rest of us. The film is available for streaming online. Sensitive viewers should be cautioned about some strong sexual content.
“Afire” (“Roter Himmel”) (2023). Cast: Thomas Schubert, Paula Beer, Langston Uibel, Enno Trebs, Matthias Brandt. Director: Christian Petzold. Screenplay: Christian Petzold. Web site. Trailer.
Leon seeks to put the finishing touches on his second novel, a book with which he’s rather dissatisfied, an effort that comes up short of his expectations, not to mention the quality of his first title. He’s anxious about wrapping up the project, especially since he senses that his publisher, Helmut (Matthias Brandt), feels the same way he does about the book. Consequently, he dreads what he has to get done before an upcoming meeting with Helmut, a task he’s not sure he can complete on time or in good order. It’s a tremendous source of stress, preoccupying his thoughts and keeping him from thinking about virtually anything else (like enjoying the prospect of spending some time relaxing).
As for Felix, he needs to work on creating a portfolio as part of his art school application. He’s unclear on what he wants to do, and he hasn’t made much progress on assembling it, even though he, like Leon, is facing a looming deadline. Unlike Leon, however, he’s not sweating what he’s up against; he’s confident that he’ll finish the work on time and that it will turn out fine. In the meantime, he remains optimistic and enthusiastic. And, no matter what, he’s not going to let the pressure get the better of him – or spoil his summer vacation.
An unlikely quartet of old and new friends (from left, Thomas Schubert, Paula Beer, Langston Uibel, Enno Trebs) gathers at a German summer house located in the path of an encroaching forest fire, as depicted in the new comedy-drama, “Afire” (“Roter Himmel”). Photo courtesy of Janus Films.
Upon arrival at the vacation house, however, conditions aren’t exactly what Leon and Felix expected. As it turns out, Felix’s mother lost track of the date of their arrival and rented out one of the bedrooms to a young, beautiful, enigmatic woman, Nadja (Paula Beer), a soft-spoken, laconic sort who makes up for this subdued attribute with a series of frequent noisy nighttime visitations.
As one might expect, Leon and Felix each have their own predictable reactions to this surprise house guest. Leon sees Nadja’s presence as annoying and intrusive, an insidious (if somewhat overblown) inconvenience with respect to rooming arrangements, not to mention the overnight sound levels in a small house with thin walls. He also firmly believes that she’ll prove to be a significant disruption to getting his work done. By contrast, Felix finds Nadja delightful and is eager to get to know her, particularly when she introduces him to one of her nighttime visitors, Devid (Enno Trebs), a hunky bisexual lifeguard who Felix is even more anxious to get to know. And, with this eclectic foursome in place, the summer is about to begin.
As the days pass, Nadja, Felix and Devid all become good friends, frequently enjoying one another’s company, while Leon sits on the sidelines and sulks. He rarely and only reluctantly joins in on any group social events, often citing his “need to work” as an excuse for bowing out. The only problem with that is that Leon doesn’t actually do much work, even with his recurring protestations and a supposedly pressing deadline looming. To complicate matters, Leon’s lack of progress on his book is drawn into sharp contrast to the growing number of personal and professional accomplishments of the others, such as the unveiling of Felix’s portfolio idea. Leon’s missing out on a lot of fun, too, with his stick-in-the-mud ways. His attitude keeps getting in the way, most notably where his quietly simmering attraction to Nadja begins to grow, even if these feelings go virtually unexpressed.
Needless to say, the emotional tension in the household mounts as everyone seems to be happy and productive except Leon. And, as this condition steadily escalates, it’s reflected back to the house guests in the nature of their surroundings, most notably the encroachment of a devastating forest fire creeping ever closer to the nearby woods, as evidenced by an ominous nighttime glow in the sky and the increased presence of firefighting helicopters buzzing overhead. Winds off the water have kept the conflagration at bay for some time, but, with the rise in the fiery mood at the vacation house, there’s a corresponding change in the path of the blaze, steering it ever closer toward it.
Ash falling from the sky from a nearby forest fire casts an ominous pall over the safety and security of vacation house guests like Nadja (Paula Beer) in the new German comedy-drama, “Afire” (“Roter Himmel”), now playing theatrically. Photo courtesy of Janus Films.
Circumstances reach a fever pitch when Leon musters up the courage to ask Nadja if she’d like to read his novel. She agrees and proceeds to give him her honest evaluation of the book, one that matches his own dismal assessment. That sentiment is, in turn, echoed back shortly thereafter when Helmut visits. He presents Leon with a heavily edited version of the work, one that still reads awkwardly, even after having had a heavy-handed red pencil taken to it. On top of that, during Helmut’s visit, he takes a liking to the other house guests, showering them with compliments on their achievements and hospitality, rendering Leon virtually irrelevant and invisible. Talk about turning up the heat.
With relations in the house strained and the surroundings threatening to go up in flames, the hoped-for summer vacation turns out to be anything but a fun and relaxing time, at least where Leon is concerned. But, with the winds of change poised to sweep over the area, what’s happened so far is only a glimmer of what’s yet to come – and what will emerge out of it.
This requires us to take a good, hard look at our thoughts, beliefs and intents, and that’s important given the roles that they play in the manifestation of our existence, a product of the conscious creation process, the philosophy that maintains these resources underlie the reality we experience. Some of us are no doubt familiar with this thinking, but, for others, it can be a difficult realization to grasp and accept. Nevertheless, if we find that our lives aren’t working in certain respects, we need to look inward to find out why, and this is as good a place as any to start. By scrutinizing our beliefs, rewriting them as necessary and chopping out any burdensome dead wood, we have an opportunity to start over and move in a new direction toward greater satisfaction and fulfillment.
To a certain extent, this is true of all the principal characters in this film, but it’s especially the case for poor Leon. It’s obvious he needs to get down to business in this regard. What’s worse, though, is that he doesn’t even recognize the need for this. He plods along, continuing to do whatever it is that he has apparently been doing for a long time, remaining mired in his relentless funk and never questioning the need or possibility of doing anything different. He’s plainly tired of and dissatisfied with this routine, too, forever sitting back and complaining yet making no effort to shift gears. In fact, as this story plays out, he’d rather procrastinate than take any action to rectify his situation. Talk about a need for intervention.
Leon (Thomas Schubert), an aspiring author disappointed with the progress on his second novel, tries to figure out how to salvage it while on retreat at a summer vacation house on the Baltic Sea coast in writer-director Christian Petzold’s latest feature, “Afire” (“Roter Himmel”). Photo courtesy of Janus Films.
That’s where this summer retreat comes into play. Leon desperately needs to move on from where he’s at (and apparently from where he’s been for a long time). And, on a subconscious level, there’s a part of him that must understand that, as seen in the many elements of his existence that have tried to shake him out of his complacency, no matter how much he’d rather not do so, at least outwardly speaking. Consider the evidence: The people around him approach life from a more joyful standpoint, attitudes he often finds annoying and frivolous; unexpected developments, such as Nadja’s presence and the encroaching forest fire, throw him curves that urge him to implement a more malleable approach toward life and his various pursuits, both personally and professionally; frequent though admittedly exaggerated distractions keep him from getting his work done (or so he thinks), despite the fact that it’s work he really doesn’t want to do in the first place; and the frank criticisms of his book by Helmut and Nadja are less-than-subtle wake-up calls that maybe he should be putting aside his current writing project in favor of something new and different with better literary potential. But the key question in this is, “Does he see things that way (or, perhaps more precisely, does he really want to see things that way)?”
This is particularly true when it comes to how Leon views life in general: Is it meant to be something enjoyed or something endured? In a videotaped interview with writer-director Christian Petzold, the filmmaker states that this is one of the objectives behind this story. So many people, he says, are so preoccupied with work, their careers and their professional achievements that they lose sight of many of the joys that life has to offer (an observation that probably accounts for the inclusion of more humor in this film than in most of Petzold’s previous releases, an attempt to metaphorically lighten things up). Just look at Leon’s case: he’s in a beautiful vacation setting, with ample opportunities for recreation and enjoyment, and in the presence of a possible romantic interest, yet he’d rather play the curmudgeon, ever complaining, missing out on a chance for a good time and spinning his wheels trying to resuscitate a dreadful book that probably can’t be salvaged. Where’s the perspective in all that? Is that life serving him? And, if not, why isn’t he making an effort to change it to something more suitable? The clues for how to improve upon his lot in life are all around him, too, but can he – or will he – see them?
Leon only need look to the examples set by his companions: Felix is thrilled when he finally hits on an idea for his portfolio (especially when he receives a ringing endorsement from Helmut when he shows it to him during his visit). Felix is also ecstatic when his relationship with Devid grows and blossoms, filling them both with tremendous joy. And both Devid and Nadja are content with the summertime jobs they’ve taken, he as a lifeguard and she as a purveyor of ice cream cones to tourists along Ahrenshoop’s waterfront boardwalk. Those may seem like comparatively simple pleasures and ventures, but look at how much happiness they provide. How can Leon top that?
So why isn’t Leon shifting gears? Perhaps it’s because he’s unaware of – or maybe even afraid of – the power of choice available to him. He’d rather surround himself with the familiar than strike out in a new (but potentially scary) direction. But, as circumstances unfold here, he may not be able to fall back on that option for much longer. With conditions changing all around him (conditions that he has unwittingly drawn into his realm of existence), he might soon be forced to adapt to what’s transpiring. He may have long been comfortable with “the devil you know rather than the devil you don’t,” but, as the devil he knows is steadily vanishing, he may soon be forced to deal with a strange new demon, no matter how much he may try to resist it. With the prospect of the slate being swept clean, he might have to contend with bottoming out and losing everything.
Aspiring author Leon (Thomas Schubert, left) develops a veiled crush on Nadja (Paula Beer, right), an unexpected house guest at the summer house where he’s staying, in the new German comedy-drama, “Afire” (“Roter Himmel”), now playing theatrically. Photo courtesy of Janus Films.
But is that possibility necessarily a bad thing? From both a literal and metaphorical standpoint, fire is a force that can destroy and devastate, but it’s also one that can cleanse, clearing away anything of questionable value to make room for robust, vigorous, valuable new growth. And, sometimes, it can do both simultaneously. Maybe it would be in Leon’s best interests to embrace what’s on its way, to make friends with change and the possibilities it may afford. Such scenarios might involve going out in a blaze of glory while clearing a path to something even grander, enabling us to bask in the glow of something eminently more rewarding. For Leon, that might prevent him from becoming a has-been author doing mediocre work with little fulfillment. Indeed, sometimes it takes burning a supposedly treasured resource to generate some light and heat, but where would we be without those things?
“Afire” is an engaging slowburn in every sense of the word, one that grows progressively more captivating as its enigmatic narrative plays out. The outset may come across as somewhat cryptic, even meandering at times, but the opening act sets the stage for what’s to follow in the back half. The picture subsequently presents a witty but profoundly insightful examination of what makes us who we are, how much we enjoy or endure our lives, and what we can do to make it better for ourselves when we eliminate what no longer serves us. The film’s subdued humor is deceptively gentle, imbued with a quietly biting underlying edge delivered with well-mannered precision and dexterity. That’s particularly apparent during Helmut’s reading of Leon’s reworked manuscript, an excellent example of truly awful but stunningly hilarious writing brought to life. In many respects, this wry offering is probably not what most viewers will expect, but, then, that’s a huge part of its appeal, a refreshing look at life and what we make of it. It’s a valuable exercise given how abruptly it can all be taken away, leaving us to ask ourselves, “What did we do with the time we had, and was it indeed worth it in the end?” Give this one sufficient time to unfold, and let it gradually sink in. It offers a lesson that may help us realize and understand more about ourselves than we can possibly imagine. The film is currently playing theatrically.
When it comes to fire, it can leave us warmed up or seriously burned. The question is, “Which of those options do we wish to embrace?” That all depends on how we view it, which, in turn, is rooted in the beliefs we hold about it. It will leave an impact on us no matter which view we take. In either case, though, the choice is ours – as is what it leaves us with.
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Reviews of "Oppenheimer," "Rock Hudson: All That Heaven Allowed" and "Godland," along with a podcast preview, are all in the latest Movies with Meaning post on the web site of The Good Media Network, available by clicking here.
Fr. Lucas soon discovers that the moniker “Godland” is a fitting name for his new home, at least as God is described above. In many ways, the unrestrained nature of the Icelandic landscape is more than he bargained for. As the cleric crosses the island with his translator (Hilmar Guðjónsson) and guide, Ragnar (Ingvar Sigurðsson), he soon finds that the diverse, challenging terrain and environmental conditions test his endurance and resolve. In his experience of nature (i.e., “God”) in its unleashed state, he finds that the wild character of this place is far different from the more genteel way of life that he had grown accustomed to in Denmark. In his arrogance, he also soon learns that life in Iceland can’t be “tamed” in the same way as back home; in Godland, the unconstrained will of the divine can’t be made to bow to man’s whims in the same way as it may be within the civil confines of a lavish parish on the European mainland, sometimes with dramatic or even tragic consequences.
Idealistic young Lutheran minister Fr. Lucas (Elliott Crosset Hove) arrives on the southeastern seacoast of Iceland after sailing from his native Denmark, embarking on an adventure to build a church for Danish settlers on the island, as seen in writer-director Hlynur Pálmason’s latest feature, “Godland” (“Vanskabte Land”/“Volada Land”), now available for streaming online. Photo courtesy of Janus Films.
In addition to the environmental conditions, Lucas soon finds that the residents aren’t quite what he expected, either. While some are genuinely friendly, caring and compassionate under trying conditions (especially the women), many of the men are cold, gruff, and not especially sensitive to the preacher’s needs and more worldly outlooks. In large part, this attitude is attributable to the Icelandic way of life, one in which the residents’ resilience and fortitude is frequently tested by the challenges of everyday life. Fr. Lucas also soon learns that the Icelandic natives aren’t particularly fond of being under the thumb of Danish colonialists. They’re reluctant to embrace Danish culture and often deliberately and defiantly speak in their own tongue to keep settlers in the dark as to what they’re saying. Needless to say, it’s not the warm welcome the minister expected.
Crossing the island proves to be more challenging than Lucas ever expected. In fact, by the time he arrives at his destination, he’s in a seriously depleted and sickly state. He’s taken in by one of the settlers, Carl (Jacob Hauberg Lohmann), who lives in a comfortable farmhouse with his two daughters, Anna (Vic Carmen Sonne), an unmarried young woman who serves as a sort of surrogate wife and mother, and Ida (Ida Mekkin Hlynsdóttir), a teen who attends to many of the farm chores and is an aspiring amateur musician. The family attends to the minister’s needs, nursing him back to health so that he can get on with the business of building his church.
But, as Lucas heals and regains his strength, it soon becomes apparent that he’s begun to experience the effects of living in Godland. The preacher’s demeanor begins to change, showing signs of coming under the influence of the wild, untamed nature of the divine in this unrestrained and often-unforgiving land. He’s more prone to giving in to his emotions, something he was once far more reluctant to do. And, as feelings begin to emerge that he’s unaccustomed to, he finds himself torn in terms of trying to understand himself and this new expression of God that has begun to take over his life. It’s something with which he’s obviously uncomfortable, probably because it’s so unfamiliar to him, testing his faith in ways he’s never experienced. He’s unsure how far he should let himself go: Should he hold on to what he knows, or should he give in to this previously unexplored aspect of God that’s apparently an accepted way of existence in Iceland? Indeed, when in Godland, should he do as the Godlanders do? It’s a spiritually evolutionary journey for which he was unprepared, and now he must decide what to do about it.
Icelandic wilderness guide Ragnar (Ingvar Sigurðsson, left) poses with his crew for a photo taken by a new arrival to the island, as depicted in the new religious drama/ecclesiastical travelogue, “Godland” (“Vanskabte Land”/“Volada Land”), available for streaming online. Photo courtesy of Janus Films.
This represents a fundamental distinction in the beliefs held by the locals and the colonists. The Icelanders understand that their God is a wild, untamed force, one filled with an infinite number of possibilities available to it for helping mankind work out its challenges and aspirations. The solutions may not always be easy, as evidenced by the Icelandic way of life, but the residents are confident that things will work out in the end. They have faith in the process. And, by viewing this relationship as a partnership, they see it as a means for cooperation and collaboration.
This is one of the key principles driving the conscious creation process, the philosophy that maintains we draw upon our thoughts, beliefs and intents in conjunction with the power of God/the Universe/All That Is in manifesting the reality we experience. The locals may not be fully conscious of this way of thinking, but it seems that they accept it as an underlying assumption about how life works and how they relate to the divine (and vice versa).
Fr. Lucas and his immigrant countrymen, by contrast, have yet to fully understand and embrace such thinking. And, in their supposed desire to learn more about the outlooks of the locals, they tend to be somewhat dismissive of these “simpler” views. (After all, how could those perspectives be valid for a people who don’t even have churches and other religious trappings to define their spiritual existence?) In that sense, their arrogance and allegedly “superior” mindset prompts them to discreetly look down their noses at the island’s native residents. This becomes apparent, for instance, in one scene when the usually-crusty Ragnar – typically a man of few words, especially those of a personal nature – seeks to confess his failings to Lucas, who pays him little mind and even tries to silence this obviously “inferior” individual.
However, accepting this alternative spiritual view is at the heart of what’s playing out in this story. Fr. Lucas, like many of his fellow colonists, is learning how to view God in this same new light, a cornerstone of his spiritual evolution, one in which the divine is an integral, incorporated element of daily life and not something exclusively reserved for Sunday mornings. It’s about how someone lives his or her life every day, an integration of the divine and the terrestrial in harmony on an ongoing basis.
To fully grasp this, there are several key principles these new disciples need to understand. To begin with, the Universe cooperatively helps make everything possible, for better or worse. The seeds of every conceivable possibility are contained within its makeup, and we have access to all of those resources, without limitation, in determining how things ultimately unfold. What we do with what we’re provided plays an important role in this, given that the divine supplies us with the means to achieve our goals, whether or not we recognize (and embrace) them as such.
Residents of a 19th Century Danish settlement in Iceland pose with their community’s latest addition, a new Lutheran church being built by a young minister sent from Denmark, in writer-director Hlynur Pálmason’s latest feature, “Godland” (“Vanskabte Land”/“Volada Land”). Photo courtesy of Janus Films.
These are key principles for Fr. Lucas to examine. It often proves difficult, however, given that he comes from a “sophisticated” and “civilized” society, one that has grown impressed with itself and its accomplishments, most of which have come to be perceived exclusively as the result of mankind’s own handiwork. In adopting that attitude, however, the minister and his peers have lost sight of how these manifestations actually came into being as divine/human collaborations, a perspective the islanders have retained.
As a result, when things don’t seem to work out, Lucas often tries to force results into existence, often with less-than-satisfying results. This is known as “pushing the Universe,” and it seldom works out as hoped for. In the fulfillment of our ambitions, God (as viewed in Icelandic terms) may appear to have thrown us some curve balls on the way to reaching our destination, developments that might be easily dismissed. However, there may be elements imbedded within those twists and turns aimed at taking us where we want to go – provided we have faith in those notions and are willing to follow through on them to see where they lead us. Human arrogance can indeed thwart the divine’s plans to help bring us what we’ve asked for, and those unwilling to take this to heart may pay a high price for such conceit.
Applying culturally and environmentally based considerations can have a tremendous impact in these situations, too. For example, the differences between Iceland and Denmark in these areas are considerable. In some respects, the Icelanders live lives more tied to their surroundings. In some ways, this has left them more open-minded (and, consequently, somewhat more liberated) than their Danish counterparts in such areas as romantic relationships. As Lucas assimilates into the island culture, he finds himself increasingly drawn to Anna, something he resists as it represents what he believes to be falling prey to the temptations of the flesh, inappropriate behavior for a cleric. Meanwhile, Anna – even though Danish by background – has had some time to fit in and has grown more comfortable with the local culture, including a more relaxed view of romantic matters, even with a supposedly forbidden prospect like a priest. Accordingly, relationships in the Icelandic view are seen as a natural part of life, one of the joyous and wholly acceptable gifts bestowed by the Universe, so why not pursue them when the opportunity arises? Anna thus feels free to engage in something that’s assumed to be perfectly natural while Lucas struggles with the cultural baggage he’s brought along with him from home. This, of course, raises the question, “Does God really want one of His own children to needlessly suffer the pain of loneliness, or does the divine truly want us to experience the joy of love and companionship?” (I’ll go with the Icelandic view on this one.)
While falling under the influences of the wild, untamed nature of Iceland, idealistic young minister Fr. Lucas (Elliott Crosset Hove, left) finds himself drawn to Anna (Vic Carmen Sonne, right), a young unmarried woman living on a farm in a 19th Century Danish settlement in Iceland, in “Godland” (“Vanskabte Land”/“Volada Land”). Photo courtesy of Janus Films.
Lucas also needs to understand – as the Icelanders apparently do – that life is meant to be lived in the moment, that the point of power is in the present, not some past that’s already gone or a future that’s yet to arrive. The local residents, for example, realize that it’s fruitless to think about tomorrow when confronted with solving a problem that’s at hand in the present. Worrying about what might happen in the afterlife when faced with figuring out how to traverse a mountain peak or avoid an erupting volcano (with the divine’s guidance, of course) is comparatively trivial when such present challenges arise.
Similarly, it’s important to recognize that the present is a fleeting moment, one that goes almost as quickly as it comes and one that’s impossible to capture forever. Lucas seems to have some difficulty with this, too, as evidenced, somewhat ironically, by his passion for photography. As admirable as this pursuit may be, it needs to be properly tempered. In some ways, his interest in this subject almost seems to be based on the idea of wanting to create an enduring record of the moment, freezing it as if it will somehow last for eternity. But will it? The photo may live on, but the moment won’t, and the distinction between the two needs to be recognized. Again, this is another lesson that Lucas could learn from the locals.
All of the foregoing notions are meant to provide the young minister with an experience of spiritual evolution, learning how to engage in an existence with a practical, accommodating partner, not a remote abstract concept, one that is a wholly integrated part of everyday life. It’s about learning how to let go of human hubris and to become a full-fledged collaborator with the divine that allows us both to come to know ourselves, an equal partner in the grand experiment of reality creation. In essence, it’s all about seeing God in a new light. It would indeed be in Lucas’s best interests if he could come to see the difference between this option and the one he has long known and followed. For my money, if given the choice between a joyful, fulfilling experience and one riddled with limitations and perceived capriciousness, it’s not too hard to figure out which one I’d choose. For his sake, let’s hope Lucas does the same.
Idealistic young Lutheran minister Fr. Lucas (Elliott Crosset Hove) sees his journey to Iceland as an opportunity to practice his hand at his personal passion, photography, in writer-director Hlynur Pálmason’s latest feature, “Godland” (“Vanskabte Land”/“Volada Land”), now available for streaming online. Photo courtesy of Janus Films.
What is God? Is it a reasoned, rational civilized entity or a wild, untamed force full of unbridled power in search of becoming a willing collaborator with us? And, in light of that, then, what kind of relationship are we supposed to have with this elusive divine enigma? That’s one of many unexpected challenges raised in this fact-based story from 19th Century Iceland. Life in a new land composed of unfamiliar elements tests the wits, patience, and, above all, faith of a young, idealistic immigrant cleric as events unfold in unforeseen and potentially disturbing ways. It’s an evolutionary journey for which he’s unprepared and often unable to fathom, prompting him to question much of what he believes and how he conducts himself. The result is a thoughtful meditation on these issues, featuring positively stunning cinematography, fine performances and superb production values. The pacing is surprisingly well balanced, too, especially for a film with a 2:23:00 runtime (though some of the picture’s montages – as beautiful as they are – probably could have been dialed back somewhat without significantly impacting the finished product). Writer-director Hlynur Pálmason’s latest is arguably his best work to date, but be sure to give this one the time that it deserves to develop in order to thoroughly appreciate and enjoy it, both for its sheer beauty and for everything it has to say about the divine and the place it occupies in our lives.
“Godland” has been showered with numerous accolades at various film festivals, receiving multiple awards and nominations in myriad categories. Most notably, the film captured an Un Certain Regard award nomination at the 2022 Cannes Film Festival. In addition, at the 2022 Chicago International Film Festival, this release received the Gold Hugo Award for best feature and the Silver Hugo Award for best cinematography. And, thankfully, even though this offering has primarily played the festival circuit, it’s now available for streaming online.
While our impressions of and relationship with the divine is ultimately a highly personal matter, it’s comforting to know that we have a huge array of options available to us in determining what forms those issues will take. We can follow conventional interpretations that have been prefabricated for us in terms of beliefs, liturgies, dogma and strictures, and that may genuinely be enough for some of us. But, for those who are captivated by the wonder of existence, it’s possible to embrace a limitless view, one in which restrictions have been removed, leaving us to determine for ourselves what best suits our innate sensibilities. Getting to that point often involves a spiritual journey, one that grows and evolves over time but that offers the potential of enhanced satisfaction and fulfillment. That’s something to behold – and something even greater to experience.
“Oppenheimer” (2023). Cast: Cillian Murphy, Robert Downey Jr., Emily Blunt, Matt Damon, Florence Pugh, Kenneth Branagh, Rami Malek, Gary Oldman, Tom Conti, Benny Safdie, Josh Hartnett, Casey Affleck, Matthew Modine, Jason Clarke, Alden Ehrenreich, James D’Arcy, David Krumholtz, Macon Blair, Josh Zuckerman, Jefferson Hall, Dane DeHaan, Dylan Arnold, David Dastmalchian, Emma Dumont, Matthias Schweighöfer, James Remar, Christopher Denham, Danny Deferrari. Director: Christopher Nolan. Screenplay: Christopher Nolan. Book: Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin, American Prometheus. Web site. Trailer.
While writer-director Christopher Nolan’s biographical opus chronicles the events that were part of this epic venture, it goes much deeper, exploring the complex character of the man who led it. The film not only details the work of a brilliant scientist, but it also examines the complicated views of the man who was seriously torn about what he was doing. Oppenheimer understood the need to develop the bomb, given that Nazi Germany was already doing the same and that he couldn’t bear the thought of what might happen if an enemy as perversely evil as the Third Reich got its hands on such a weapon first (feelings no doubt stirred by his own Jewish heritage). At the same time, though, he was also cognizant of the massive destructive power that could be unleashed on humanity if the device were to be used as part of an active combat engagement, raining death and devastation down upon both military forces and innocent civilians. That left him with a profound quandary: How do I resolve these feelings for myself?
To understand where these sentiments came from, the film opens by exploring Oppenheimer’s background, revealing him to be a multifaceted thoughtful humanitarian. His interest in science was undeniable, having extensively studied the work of celebrated peers like Albert Einstein (Tom Conti), Niels Bohr (Kennth Branagh) and Werner Heisenberg (Matthias Schweighöfer), particularly with regard to such cutting-edge subjects as quantum theory and the nature of black holes. But Oppenheimer also had a significant philosophical side, especially when it came to using one’s talents to make things better for mankind, an initiative he believed was not limited to technological advances and the use of scientific principles and practices. This inclination inspired a strong interest in what he saw as progressive politics and social movements, such as the work of labor unions and the American Communist Party. He was also an unapologetic donor to the left-wing rebel forces who fought in the Spanish Civil War.
While heading up the Manhattan Project, Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy, right) conferred with celebrated physicists like Edward Teller (Benny Safdie, left) on the design and construction of the atomic bomb at the Los Alamos Laboratory in New Mexico, as seen in writer-director Christopher Nolan’s latest opus, “Oppenheimer.” Photo by Melinda Sue Gordon, courtesy of Universal Pictures.While heading up the Manhattan Project, Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy, right) conferred with military figures like Gen. Leslie Groves (Matt Damon, left) on the design and construction of the atomic bomb at the Los Alamos Laboratory in New Mexico, as seen in writer-director Christopher Nolan’s latest opus, “Oppenheimer.” Photo by Melinda Sue Gordon, courtesy of Universal Pictures.
Because of these somewhat unconventional and contradictory leanings (for the time), Oppenheimer was often seen as an enigma, a wild card who officialdom didn’t feel it could completely trust. This suspicion was fueled not only by his political and social views, but also by the fact that he studied overseas in the 1920s, earning his doctorate at Germany’s University of Göttingen, and by his circle of associates, including Communist Party member Jean Tatlock (Florence Pugh), with whom he was having an indiscreet affair while still married to his wife, Kitty (Emily Blunt).
Nevertheless, despite the doubts that swirled around him, Oppenheimer developed quite a reputation for his expertise, especially at the University of California, Berkeley, where his theoretical physics work attracted considerable widespread attention and a full professorship in 1936. This pedigree made him the leading candidate to head the Manhattan Project when it was launched in 1942. But, given his background, he was placed on a short leash by the military under the auspices of Gen. Leslie Groves (Matt Damon), a no-nonsense commander who was responsible for the construction of the Pentagon. Groves was seen as someone who could keep Oppenheimer on track and under surveillance, fully aware of the physicist’s questionable background.
As Oppenheimer launched into this venture, he surrounded himself with many of the brightest minds in the physics community, such as Ernest Lawrence (Josh Hartnett), Isidor Rabi (David Krumholtz) and Edward Teller (Benny Safdie). He was given relatively free reign to explore various possibilities at the Los Alamos Laboratory in New Mexico, the principal research and development facility for the Manhattan Project. But, as work proceeded, he began to have doubts about the implications of his efforts. He was also skeptical about certain areas of research, such as Teller’s advocacy for the development of the hydrogen bomb, a weapon believed to be many times more powerful than the uranium- and plutonium-based devices that were being built at the time.
Needless to say, Oppenheimer’s mixed feelings caught the attention of government and military officials, prompting Groves to crack down on the project leader. In turn, Oppenheimer made his feelings known to the General, suggesting alternative proposals, such as conducting a demonstration of the weapon’s power on a neutral target, one specifically aimed at sparing the lives of military figures and civilians. And, later, as the war in Europe began drawing to a close, he even suggested not using the bomb at all, given that there would no longer be a need for it. But Oppenheimer’s reservations fell on deaf ears; after all of the money that had been spent on the bomb’s development and the desire of the US to become the world’s leading military force in the post-war era, the powers that be wanted to proceed as planned, using the weapon to end the war in the Pacific by dropping it on the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Oppenheimer was particularly troubled by this decision, given that Japan had no nuclear ambitions or corresponding weapons programs in place, making the use of the bomb there little more than a case of military-based premeditated murder, regardless of the fact that such a move would assuredly bring an end to the war.
Throughout his career, theoretical physicist Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy, right) consulted with many noteworthy figures active in the scientific community, including celebrated scientist and philosopher Albert Einstein (Tom Conti, left), as depicted in the new biographical blockbuster, “Oppenheimer,” now playing theatrically. Photo by Melinda Sue Gordon, courtesy of Universal Pictures.Throughout his career, theoretical physicist Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy, left) consulted with many noteworthy figures active in government and academia, including Lewis Strauss (Robert Downey Jr., right), as depicted in the new biographical blockbuster, “Oppenheimer,” now playing theatrically. Photo by Melinda Sue Gordon, courtesy of Universal Pictures.
Despite being hailed as a hero for his accomplishment, Oppenheimer was uneasy with the emergence of the new nuclear age. He actively advocated for international cooperation in the regulation of this new technology, especially in military applications, hoping that such mutual efforts would help to curtail nuclear proliferation and the beginning of an arms race, especially with the Soviet Union. But those hopes were dashed as the USSR developed its own weapon and the US proceeded with its plans for building the hydrogen bomb. He hoped to counter these developments by becoming director of the Institute for Advanced Study at Princeton University and by being named to the General Advisory Committee of the newly created Atomic Energy Commission.
Through these new positions, Oppenheimer became acquainted with Lewis Strauss (Robert Downey Jr.), a relationship that started out well but became strained in the early 1950s. Because his views about nuclear technology ran afoul of official sentiments during the rise of the Cold War, combined with his past associations with “radical” political and social movements, Oppenheimer came under increasing scrutiny, even raising questions about his patriotic loyalty and whether he was entitled to retain his government security clearance. He was subjected to intense interrogation by an investigatory committee, enduring hours of unceremonious grilling by “prosecutor” Roger Robb (Jason Clarke) while desperately being defended by attorney Lloyd Garrison (Macon Blair).
The hero celebrated for bringing an end to World War II thus suffered a devastating fall from grace. And, as this process was playing out, Oppenheimer’s colleague Strauss was undergoing a Congressional confirmation hearing with respect to his proposed Cabinet posting as Secretary of Commerce in the new Eisenhower Administration. Ironically enough, these two proceedings soon collided with one another, revealing an array of dirty little secrets about how that fall from grace came about – and how one man’s conscience was distorted all out of proportion simply because he adhered to views that were publicly out of favor at the time.
Despite all of the foregoing, in the end, Oppenheimer still had to wrestle with his ghosts, thoughts that were never far removed from his everyday life. They lingered like a haze that would never lift, no matter how his fortunes ebbed and flowed for better or worse. He had significantly changed the course of history, forever haunted by the chilling words of a passage from the Hindu scripture Bhagavad Gita, “Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.” Those words have echoed in the global consciousness since 1945, when the bombs were dropped on Japan. And, with the nuclear genie now out of the bottle, threats to the safety and security of the globe escalated, leaving us all on the precipice of annihilation at any given time. Oppenheimer felt responsible for this, and it was a concern that he could never shake. Like Prometheus giving mankind the gift of fire, Oppenheimer, too, was comparably tortured for the deed he carried out, tormented every day for the rest of his life – only this time, the punishment doled out to him was not that of a divine being but by that of his own hand.
Women played a pivotal role in the life and career of celebrated scientist Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy, right), including his wife, Kitty, as seen in writer-director Christopher Nolan’s “Oppenheimer,” now playing theatrically. Photo by Melinda Sue Gordon, courtesy of Universal Pictures.Women played a pivotal role in the life, career and reputation of celebrated scientist and director of the top secret Manhattan Project Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy, right), including his mistress (and suspected security risk), Jean Tatlock (Florence Pugh, left), an openly avowed member of the American Community Party, as seen in writer-director Christopher Nolan’s latest feature presentation, the superb biographical drama, “Oppenheimer,” now playing theatrically. Photo courtesy of Universal Pictures.
Like virtually every American at the time, Oppenheimer wanted to see an end to the war. Simultaneously, though, he also had to ask himself, “At what cost?” Use of the weapon would undoubtedly bring the conflict to a close, but what consequences would that carry? How many would die? In particular, how many innocents would be killed? And what about afterward – would the bomb’s deployment set off a chain reaction prompting further use of nuclear weapons by the US and the development of comparable devices by other nations, both friends and foes? There were also chilling doubts that lingered during the prototype’s development, such as the possibility that some theoretical calculations showed a nuclear explosion might lead to an unending, uncontrollable reaction capable of burning off the earth’s atmosphere, leaving the world with a cure more deadly than the disease it was meant to treat.
To resolve this conundrum, Oppenheimer had to engage in some profound soul searching, examining his heartfelt beliefs to devise a solution. That’s crucial given that our thoughts, beliefs and intents play a crucial role in the conscious creation process, the philosophy that maintains we draw upon these resources in the manifestation of our existence. It’s not clear whether or not Oppenheimer was aware of this school of thought, but, considering his in-depth knowledge of related scientific subjects like quantum physics and his familiarity with analogous metaphysical studies like those found in ancient Hinduism, there’s a good chance he might have been cognizant of this discipline’s principles and their implications.
If that were the case, then why did he struggle so much with his conflicted feelings? There are several possibilities that come to mind. To begin with, Oppenheimer was genuinely attempting to reconcile contradictory beliefs, and that’s important to remember, given that such paradoxes are one of most significant impediments to our creations materializing as desired. Contradiction can cause our desired manifestations from being realized in their hoped-for forms (frequently tainted by unexpected and often-devastating side effects), or it can even prevent those creations from appearing at all.
While directing the Manhattan Project in the New Mexico desert during World War II, theoretical physicist Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy) inspects the tower on which the first atomic bomb was positioned prior to the device’s initial test blast in July 1945, as seen in “Oppenheimer,” now playing theatrically. Photo courtesy of Universal Pictures.While directing the Manhattan Project in the New Mexico desert during World War II, theoretical physicist Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy) inspects “the gadget” (as it was called) prior to the device’s initial test blast in July 1945, as seen in “Oppenheimer,” now playing theatrically. Photo courtesy of Universal Pictures.
On top of that, Oppenheimer had to contend with the fact that this undertaking was a joint effort, an act of co-creation in which all of the participants had a stake in how things turned out, each of them seeking the fulfillment of their own respective agendas. Even though Oppenheimer headed the Manhattan Project, there were thousands of collaborators working under him, most of whom were unaware of what their peers were doing, a product of the rigid compartmentalization that had been implemented to maintain the secrecy of the endeavor. Then there were the “outsiders” who had a vested stake in the project – those who made up the emerging US military industrial complex, most of whom already had their sights set on how they could benefit from the development of nuclear technology after the war, even before the current conflict was over.
Despite Oppenheimer’s considerable influence, he was only one voice in this chorus. What’s more, he had his past clinging to him like a millstone, something that those with agendas could use as a weapon against him if necessary. He thus often found himself manipulated into making compromises – despite what his conscience was telling him – in order to stay in the game in hopes that he could make his views known and, in turn, a difference.
But, as Oppenheimer’s story played out, as this film shows, he continually had to wrestle with the many challenges that arose out of this scenario, often manifesting in ways that went against his fundamental humanitarian views, especially during the Red Scare and Cold War of the 1950s and ’60s. It was an unenviable position, to be sure, one that truly mirrored the story of Prometheus (and, in some ways, that of Sisyphus, too). His odyssey could thus be seen as simultaneously heroic and tragic. He gave the world his own version of the gift of fire, but this one was – as the Irish rock band U2 once wrote – truly unforgettable.
With the detonation of the atomic bomb over the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagaski, World War II was brought to an end, and the credit for this was given to celebrated scientist Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy, center), who was hailed as a hero, a label with which he was noticeably uncomfortable, as seen in “Oppenheimer.” Photo by Melinda Sue Gordon, courtesy of Universal Pictures.
Telling the story of a larger-than-life individual truly calls for a larger-than-life film, and that’s precisely what writer-director Christopher Nolan has come up with in his latest feature outing, handily the best work of his career. Nolan’s three-hour opus provides viewers with a comprehensive biography of this brilliant and thoughtful yet often-inscrutable and surprisingly naïve physicist who took on a patently dangerous venture that left him morally conflicted about the nature of his creation. The story, which spans several decades of the scientist’s life, chronicles his development of “the gadget” (as it was called) and the fallout he suffered as a consequence of his left-wing pacifist political leanings and his efforts to keep the released nuclear genie from getting out of control. The film is admittedly a little overlong and probably could have used some editing in the opening and final hour, but, in the interest of telling the whole story of Oppenheimer’s journey, its length is understandable (and, consequently, justifiable).
The picture’s production values are all top shelf, especially its brilliant cinematography, stirring original score and superb sound quality, an element that truly leaves audiences with a bona fide visceral experience. Moreover, the narrative is skillfully and eloquently brought to life by this offering’s outstanding ensemble cast, including Murphy, Damon, Conti, Safdie, Blunt, Pugh, and, especially, Downey, who delivers a stellar, award-worthy supporting performance showing acting chops that I never knew he possessed. “Oppenheimer” is easily the best film of the summer movie season, if not all of 2023 thus far. It packs a potent punch and delivers a message that we can all never hear too often, poignantly reminding us all of the importance of not falling prey to the same Promethean burden that Oppenheimer was forced to shoulder.
Oppenheimer’s circumstances could readily be looked upon as intolerable, a task that virtually all of us might have been unwilling to take on, and it certainly took a toll on him, especially when his voice was effectively drowned out. However, despite these difficulties, perhaps his efforts were meant to get the ball rolling on a larger, long-term discussion that has carried on to this day – the dangers of mankind’s reckless inclination toward wanting to destroy itself. Throughout history, we as a species have often blindly allowed ourselves to head down a variety of self-destructive paths, all of which we’ve managed to successfully stave off thus far. But how many times must we continue doing this? When are we ever going to stop? And what will it take for us to come to that realization? Perhaps the potency of the nuclear threat may finally end up being the last straw in this regard. But, to reach that conclusion, we must first be collectively convinced of the deadly ramifications of pursuing this possibility so that we can at last dispense with the prospect of self-annihilation as a viable path to follow. For his efforts, it could be argued that Oppenheimer got that ball rolling, even if it came at a terrible cost to himself. But, if it eventually achieves the sought-after result, then perhaps it can viewed as worth it in the end. Let’s just hope it’s the end we need and not the one we’re trying to avoid.
