Tuesday, May 31, 2016
This Week in Movies with Meaning
Reviews of "X-men: Apocalypse," "Vaxxed: From Cover-Up to Catastrophe" and "The 33" are all available in my latest Movies with Meaning post on the Blog Page of The Good Radio Network, available by clicking here.
Apocalypse (Oscar Isaac), an omnipotent resurrected being, seeks to bring about his namesake as a devastating worldwide event, in “X-men: Apocalypse.” Photo courtesy of Twentieth Century Fox.
Sunday, May 29, 2016
‘Vaxxed’ provides food for thought
“Vaxxed: From Cover-Up to Catastrophe” (2016). Cast: Andrew Wakefield, Del Matthew Bigtree, Brian Hooker, Doreen Granpeesheh, Polly Tommey, Jonathan Tommey, Sheila Ealey, Temple Ealey, Rachael Ross. Director: Andrew Wakefield. Screenplay: Del Matthew Bigtree and Andrew Wakefield. Web site. Trailer.
Despite concerted efforts to discredit the film and its director, the controversial documentary “Vaxxed: From Cover-Up to Catastrophe” offers a rather damning indictment of the US government agencies that appear to have seriously and deliberately misled the public about the safety of the pediatric MMR vaccine. This combination product, used to protect youngsters against measles, mumps and rubella, has potentially been linked to a skyrocketing rise in autism, especially among boys and, particularly, those of African-American descent. It provides ample food for thought for parents who are assessing the decision of whether or not to vaccinate their children.
Through the recorded confessions of Centers for Disease Control and Prevention whistleblower William Thompson and an impressive (and cogently explained) dossier of supporting data, filmmaker Andrew Wakefield has compiled a convincing case against the MMR vaccine in its current form and usage. But it’s important to note that, unlike what some reviewers have incorrectly contended, this is not a blanket rejection of all vaccines, nor is it a conspiracy theory diatribe run amok. The film clearly states, for example, that the individual vaccines used against measles, mumps and rubella appear to be safe, despite the alleged problems with the combination product. Instead, the film is a reasoned assessment of information about the combination vaccine that appears to have been intentionally deleted, tweaked or covered up to suit the needs of those who benefit from such acts. Whether comparable conditions exist for other vaccines is open to debate, but, since no evidence is presented making such claims, no definitive contentions to that effect have been asserted here.
So why does this film matter? Despite emphatic claims from official sources that the MMR vaccine is safe, there are countless anecdotal incidents that contradict such claims. And, when combined with the whistleblower’s statements, there would seem to be something here that’s worthy of further investigation and not blanket dismissal because of inconvenient facts.
The foregoing was borne out in part during the special screening I attended, which included a question and answer session with Wakefield, co-writer Del Bigtree and several other activists. At the start of the Q&A, the speakers asked how many people in the audience had family members who have been affected by the vaccine-autism link. It was shocking to see half of the theater stand up. This, it would seem, is more than just paranoia or conspiracy theory me-toosim. Something is going on that at least merits thorough, unbiased scrutiny and not dismissiveness out of hand.
Earlier this year, the film became the subject of controversy when it was withdrawn from New York’s prestigious Tribeca Film Festival not long before its scheduled screening. There was considerable hue and cry over the decision, which many saw as capitulation to special interests. That cancellation, however, proved to be a boon; the uproar created so much interest in the film that it was suddenly in demand for other festivals and special showings. (Who now doubts the notion that there’s no such thing as bad publicity?)
Admittedly, the picture gets a little bogged down in experimental design jargon at times. But this minor shortcoming is offset by concise explanations of effects and implications, punctuated by heartbreaking case studies that, unfortunately, could be a preview of what’s to come if actions to explore the matter definitively aren’t taken soon. With the possibility that one in two children and 80 percent of boys could be diagnosed as autistic by 2032 if this regimen of vaccinations continues, it would seem only prudent to give this issue another look.
To find out how to take action – and which specific actions to take – regarding this issue, watch the film and then visit its web site.
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
‘The Lobster’ wrangles with conformity, individuality, personal power
“The Lobster” (2015 production, 2016 release). Cast: Colin Farrell, Rachel Weisz, John C. Reilly, Ben Whishaw, Olivia Colman, Léa Seydoux, Jessica Barden, Ashley Jensen, Angeliki Papoulia, Ariane Labed, Garry Mountaine, Anthony Dougall, Emma O’Shea, Michael Smiley. Director: Yorgos Lanthimos. Screenplay: Yorgos Lanthimos and Efthymis Filippou. Web site. Trailer.
Courting rituals in the 21st Century certainly aren’t what they used to be, but they could be a lot worse. What if being coupled were mandatory, regardless of one’s desire for it, putting pressure on singles to become partnered at all costs? To facilitate this, what if the unattached were encouraged to seek compatibility with others based on the most superficial of qualities? But what would the imposition of such conditions mean for issues like conformity, individuality and the employment of personal power? And, under such compulsory circumstances, what would it mean to love someone (if that were even possible)? Those are just some of the questions raised in the new offbeat, thought-provoking comedy-drama, “The Lobster.”
When a middle-aged architect (Colin Farrell) suddenly finds himself single, he’s whisked off to a special “hotel” where he’s given 45 days to find a new mate from among the other guests. The circumstances are far from ideal, mainly because the guests are largely dispassionate, mechanically going through the motions of dating, looking for anything to latch onto that might hint at potential instant compatibility. Singles who mutually possess seemingly insignificant traits, like walking with a limp (Ben Whishaw), an affinity for breakfast biscuits (Ashley Jensen), lisping (John C. Reilly) or being prone to spontaneous nosebleeds (Jessica Barden), gleefully view these mundane attributes as possible foundations for romantic kismet.
Finding that amorous magic is important, too, considering that the price of failure is being turned into an animal (of the guest’s choice, of course). The thinking is that, if people can’t find love as humans, then they’ll at least have an opportunity to do so in a new set of skin. And, from the film’s title, viewers can probably guess which animal the architect has chosen for himself should he fail in his mating quest.
If all that weren’t bad enough, hotel guests must be particularly careful not to do anything that smacks of individuality for fear of being labeled “loners,” relationship scofflaws who militantly lead lives on their own in the wilds of nature but who also run the risk of being hunted down (literally) for their antisocial lifestyle. Guests who engage in even the simplest expressions of individuality, like acts of self-love, risk harsh reprimands for such heinous crimes, their punishments coldly and methodically doled out by the hotel’s staff, including the facility’s icy manager (Olivia Colman) and her perfunctory minions (Ariane Labed, Garry Mountaine, Anthony Dougall).
With his days running short and his prospects of finding a mate dwindling, the architect desperately attempts coupling with a woman who has a reputation for being heartless (Angeliki Papoulia). But, when that doomed arrangement doesn’t work out, he makes his escape from the hotel, finding his way to a loosely organized community of loners who live in the nearby woods. Once there, however, he finds life among these radical individualists almost as dogmatic as what he fled, with community members forced into obeying the dictates of the group’s Napoleonic leader (Léa Seydoux). Anything that even remotely hints at being coupled is severely punished, a circumstance that becomes quite problematic for the architect when he meets a fellow loner who proves to be a genuine romantic interest (Rachel Weisz). In attempting to navigate these two polarized worlds, he’s increasingly faced with a dilemma of “damned if you do, and damned if you do.”
As we seek our place in the world, one of the fundamental issues we often face concerns the question of conformity versus individuality. When do we assert one of these notions over the other? Is one of them inherently preferable? Or is a well-considered balance of the two what we should strive for? And, if so, how do we achieve that? As in any undertaking we tackle in life, it comes down to our beliefs, the foundation of the conscious creation process, the means by which we manifest the reality we experience.
Conformity and individuality are clearly put on trial in this film, but each definitely has its place. Conformity, for example, is integral to the smooth functioning of an organized, mutually beneficial society. When it incorporates elements and calls for behaviors that are reasonable, most will concur that conformity is a worthwhile proposition. Indeed, there’s much to be said for an agreeably conceived, harmoniously functioning co-created mass materialization such as this.
But how far should we take it? At what point does the push for conformity become overly intrusive? What happens to concepts like choice, free will and personal liberty? Pressuring individuals to follow spurious rules – especially those set down by a select few for the alleged benefit of the many – can have seriously deleterious effects, a variety of which are depicted here: social tyranny, capitulation and apathy, as well as the contrary responses they sometimes spawn, such as rebelliousness, violence and even anarchy.
Individuality, by contrast, is what makes each of us who we are, what distinguishes each of us as readily identifiable beings. It plays a huge role in personal satisfaction and fulfillment, even what makes life worth living. When tempered by such considerations as concern for others, respect of individual sovereignty and the well-being of the collective, it enables meaningful self-expression while protecting the welfare of the masses.
But, again, how far should we take it? When does the push for unrestrained individuality undercut the mutual concerns of the group? What happens to notions like cooperation, social harmony and joint ventures? Unreasonably imposing the wants of the individual on the concordance of the collective threatens to derail the efficient functioning of such well-crafted co-creations. When allowed to get out of hand, it can lead to the rise of self-centeredness, a lack of concern for others and callousness, which, in turn, can provoke chaos and discord, qualities that can subsequently prompt such overwrought reactions as intolerance, oppression and despotism in an effort to get things back on track.
So what’s the answer? This is where striking a balance comes into play. But that won’t happen unless carefully considered beliefs supporting it are put into place. And, given that a mutually acceptable solution requires the belief input of the masses, everyone involved must cooperate to reach the necessary concurrence.
“The Lobster” aptly illustrates what happens when that balance is lost and matters get out of hand on both ends of the spectrum. The hotel guests, for instance, have generally bought into conformity without reservation: They’ve gone along with the mandatory partnering requirement, embraced the rules, sanctions and trappings of the hotel (right down to the unimaginative, outdated, standardized clothing supplied to them), and willingly subjected themselves to the transformation process for failure to find a mate. They barely even identify with their own names, instead recognizing one another by their distinguishing physical traits, personal habits or behavioral quirks. In many ways, they’re barely a cut above walking zombies (only without the cravings for human flesh).
The loners, by comparison, have embraced individuality to such an extent that they rarely care about anyone else except when their dogma is being violated. Their acts of defiance against socially sanctioned partnering have led to narcissism on steroids. Self-preservation and self-service are paramount in virtually everything they do. Loners are even free to masturbate whenever and wherever they want, but they don’t dare consider intercourse out of fear of an unimaginable punishment for such an unthinkable transgression. They’re walking embodiments of self-importance and conceit, unconcerned with the needs and welfare of others except for what it gets them in the end.
The architect, meanwhile, sees each community for what it is and does whatever he can to mitigate their respective pitfalls. His escape from the hotel shows his disdain for mainstream society, while his pursuit of romance with a fellow loner reflects his rejection of the individualists’ manifesto. He thus seeks to strike his own form of balance in the face of the oppressive conditions confronting him from both sides. He accomplishes this by employing manifesting beliefs that make it possible, specifically those associated with asserting his personal power. He rejects the nanny state run amok imposed by mainstream society and the dictates of the self-absorbed anarchists who surround him. He has managed to retain a semblance of self-awareness that others in both camps have abandoned, forgotten or lost sight of. His existence may not be an easy one, but at least it’s one where he calls the shots. He stays true to his own self and his own brand of personal integrity to stay afloat.
The empowerment the architect exercises serves as an inspiring example to anyone who needs to find or to rediscover this capability, one of our basic birthrights. That’s important, because it carries implications related to such matters as our power of choice and our ability to change, fundamental elements that factor into the healthy functioning of the conscious creation process. His peers in both camps no longer make use of this ability, because they’ve allowed themselves to be dumbed down and/or numbed by their circumstances, which, in turn, has prompted them to forsake this personal attribute (and even to formulate the beliefs required to make use of it). The hotel guests in particular have abrogated their awareness and deployment of this trait to such a degree that they diligently attend (and blindly heed the advice of) ludicrously simplistic workshops heralding the benefits of being coupled versus being single (sessions laughably similar to those depicted in the over-the-top comedy “But I’m a Cheerleader” (1999) in which gay teens go through a structured deprogramming regimen in an attempt to “restore” them to the heterosexual lifestyle).
Giving away our personal power in this way has devastating consequences, as evidenced by the prevailing ways of life apparent in this film. In addition to surrendering our ability to balance collective cooperation and personal individuality, we allow those setting up the prevalent paradigms to call the shots – and to run roughshod over us. This becomes evident in the behavioral hypocrisy exhibited by the leadership of the two dominant camps, who freely exercise rights denied to those they oversee. One might rightly ask why they get away with it; and the answer is “Because we let them,” mainly by holding fast to beliefs that give them carte blanche to do as they want while we kowtow to their whims.
In light of this, the narrative of “The Lobster” can be seen as an allegory for contemporary society and its various institutions, especially those related to religion, politics and even sacred cows like political correctness, regardless of which end of the ideological spectrum one adheres to. It also shows us that, even when we’re willing to forego one viewpoint in favor of an alternative, we’re just as likely to fall prey to equally intolerant attitudes and outlooks by switching sides. Changing tribes doesn’t mean we’re able to escape tribal mentality; it just means setting ourselves up for a different form of mentality (something to bear in mind with regard to highly charged events, such as this year’s hotly contested US presidential race).
In a similarly symbolic way, the story line painfully portrays the effects of personal detachment, something that has, unfortunately, run rampant in today’s society, especially when it comes to matters of emotional engagement. All too often, we limit ourselves to contemplating mere surface considerations, never going deeper to anything more meaningful. Again, because we’ve allowed ourselves to become dumbed and numbed, we’ve bought into beliefs that support such woefully shallow conditions, keeping us more removed from one another than ever before (an amazing irony given the heavy-handed emphasis placed on sanctioned coupling in the film’s narrative).
Only when we assert our personal power – and formulate beliefs that support it – can we avoid becoming ideological automatons. This is especially crucial for striking the aforementioned balance required to square the needs of society and the individual. Let’s hope we figure that out before we find ourselves headed for a pot of boiling water and a cup of drawn butter.
“The Lobster” is one of the most unusual – and most provocative – films to come along in quite a while. Its decidedly bizarre humor and wry symbolism work wonders in skewering everything from contemporary courting rituals to relationship dynamics to social institutions. The picture regrettably becomes a little bogged down in the second hour, going off on several tangents that could have easily been deleted. On balance, however, “The Lobster” offers a thoughtful, satirical look at where we stand as a society – and, one hopes, where we’ll resist the temptation to go.
Even though the picture is just now being released in North America, director Yorgos Lanthimos’s offering debuted overseas in 2015 and racked up an impressive dossier of film awards and nominations. Among its many honors, “The Lobster” captured three awards at the 2015 Cannes Film Festival, including the Jury Prize, and it was a Palme d’Or nominee, the event’s highest honor. It also earned a nomination for best British film production in the BAFTA Awards program, the UK’s equivalent of the Oscars.
Striking the right balance between conformity and individuality may be one of the most daunting ventures we’ll undertake in our lives, and finding the right mix may take a lot of effort. But, if we look into our hearts and minds to identify our true selves, and then formulate manifesting beliefs in line with our authentic being, we can materialize an existence that harmonizes the aforementioned attributes, offering us a chance at lives truly worth living on all fronts, both for ourselves and for those with whom we share it.
A Postscript: If you were faced with having to decide which animal you would become, what would you choose? Find out by taking a quiz on the movie’s web site to see which creatures might best suit you.
Copyright © 2016, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Courting rituals in the 21st Century certainly aren’t what they used to be, but they could be a lot worse. What if being coupled were mandatory, regardless of one’s desire for it, putting pressure on singles to become partnered at all costs? To facilitate this, what if the unattached were encouraged to seek compatibility with others based on the most superficial of qualities? But what would the imposition of such conditions mean for issues like conformity, individuality and the employment of personal power? And, under such compulsory circumstances, what would it mean to love someone (if that were even possible)? Those are just some of the questions raised in the new offbeat, thought-provoking comedy-drama, “The Lobster.”
When a middle-aged architect (Colin Farrell) suddenly finds himself single, he’s whisked off to a special “hotel” where he’s given 45 days to find a new mate from among the other guests. The circumstances are far from ideal, mainly because the guests are largely dispassionate, mechanically going through the motions of dating, looking for anything to latch onto that might hint at potential instant compatibility. Singles who mutually possess seemingly insignificant traits, like walking with a limp (Ben Whishaw), an affinity for breakfast biscuits (Ashley Jensen), lisping (John C. Reilly) or being prone to spontaneous nosebleeds (Jessica Barden), gleefully view these mundane attributes as possible foundations for romantic kismet.
Finding that amorous magic is important, too, considering that the price of failure is being turned into an animal (of the guest’s choice, of course). The thinking is that, if people can’t find love as humans, then they’ll at least have an opportunity to do so in a new set of skin. And, from the film’s title, viewers can probably guess which animal the architect has chosen for himself should he fail in his mating quest.
If all that weren’t bad enough, hotel guests must be particularly careful not to do anything that smacks of individuality for fear of being labeled “loners,” relationship scofflaws who militantly lead lives on their own in the wilds of nature but who also run the risk of being hunted down (literally) for their antisocial lifestyle. Guests who engage in even the simplest expressions of individuality, like acts of self-love, risk harsh reprimands for such heinous crimes, their punishments coldly and methodically doled out by the hotel’s staff, including the facility’s icy manager (Olivia Colman) and her perfunctory minions (Ariane Labed, Garry Mountaine, Anthony Dougall).
With his days running short and his prospects of finding a mate dwindling, the architect desperately attempts coupling with a woman who has a reputation for being heartless (Angeliki Papoulia). But, when that doomed arrangement doesn’t work out, he makes his escape from the hotel, finding his way to a loosely organized community of loners who live in the nearby woods. Once there, however, he finds life among these radical individualists almost as dogmatic as what he fled, with community members forced into obeying the dictates of the group’s Napoleonic leader (Léa Seydoux). Anything that even remotely hints at being coupled is severely punished, a circumstance that becomes quite problematic for the architect when he meets a fellow loner who proves to be a genuine romantic interest (Rachel Weisz). In attempting to navigate these two polarized worlds, he’s increasingly faced with a dilemma of “damned if you do, and damned if you do.”
As we seek our place in the world, one of the fundamental issues we often face concerns the question of conformity versus individuality. When do we assert one of these notions over the other? Is one of them inherently preferable? Or is a well-considered balance of the two what we should strive for? And, if so, how do we achieve that? As in any undertaking we tackle in life, it comes down to our beliefs, the foundation of the conscious creation process, the means by which we manifest the reality we experience.
Conformity and individuality are clearly put on trial in this film, but each definitely has its place. Conformity, for example, is integral to the smooth functioning of an organized, mutually beneficial society. When it incorporates elements and calls for behaviors that are reasonable, most will concur that conformity is a worthwhile proposition. Indeed, there’s much to be said for an agreeably conceived, harmoniously functioning co-created mass materialization such as this.
But how far should we take it? At what point does the push for conformity become overly intrusive? What happens to concepts like choice, free will and personal liberty? Pressuring individuals to follow spurious rules – especially those set down by a select few for the alleged benefit of the many – can have seriously deleterious effects, a variety of which are depicted here: social tyranny, capitulation and apathy, as well as the contrary responses they sometimes spawn, such as rebelliousness, violence and even anarchy.
Individuality, by contrast, is what makes each of us who we are, what distinguishes each of us as readily identifiable beings. It plays a huge role in personal satisfaction and fulfillment, even what makes life worth living. When tempered by such considerations as concern for others, respect of individual sovereignty and the well-being of the collective, it enables meaningful self-expression while protecting the welfare of the masses.
But, again, how far should we take it? When does the push for unrestrained individuality undercut the mutual concerns of the group? What happens to notions like cooperation, social harmony and joint ventures? Unreasonably imposing the wants of the individual on the concordance of the collective threatens to derail the efficient functioning of such well-crafted co-creations. When allowed to get out of hand, it can lead to the rise of self-centeredness, a lack of concern for others and callousness, which, in turn, can provoke chaos and discord, qualities that can subsequently prompt such overwrought reactions as intolerance, oppression and despotism in an effort to get things back on track.
So what’s the answer? This is where striking a balance comes into play. But that won’t happen unless carefully considered beliefs supporting it are put into place. And, given that a mutually acceptable solution requires the belief input of the masses, everyone involved must cooperate to reach the necessary concurrence.
“The Lobster” aptly illustrates what happens when that balance is lost and matters get out of hand on both ends of the spectrum. The hotel guests, for instance, have generally bought into conformity without reservation: They’ve gone along with the mandatory partnering requirement, embraced the rules, sanctions and trappings of the hotel (right down to the unimaginative, outdated, standardized clothing supplied to them), and willingly subjected themselves to the transformation process for failure to find a mate. They barely even identify with their own names, instead recognizing one another by their distinguishing physical traits, personal habits or behavioral quirks. In many ways, they’re barely a cut above walking zombies (only without the cravings for human flesh).
The loners, by comparison, have embraced individuality to such an extent that they rarely care about anyone else except when their dogma is being violated. Their acts of defiance against socially sanctioned partnering have led to narcissism on steroids. Self-preservation and self-service are paramount in virtually everything they do. Loners are even free to masturbate whenever and wherever they want, but they don’t dare consider intercourse out of fear of an unimaginable punishment for such an unthinkable transgression. They’re walking embodiments of self-importance and conceit, unconcerned with the needs and welfare of others except for what it gets them in the end.
The architect, meanwhile, sees each community for what it is and does whatever he can to mitigate their respective pitfalls. His escape from the hotel shows his disdain for mainstream society, while his pursuit of romance with a fellow loner reflects his rejection of the individualists’ manifesto. He thus seeks to strike his own form of balance in the face of the oppressive conditions confronting him from both sides. He accomplishes this by employing manifesting beliefs that make it possible, specifically those associated with asserting his personal power. He rejects the nanny state run amok imposed by mainstream society and the dictates of the self-absorbed anarchists who surround him. He has managed to retain a semblance of self-awareness that others in both camps have abandoned, forgotten or lost sight of. His existence may not be an easy one, but at least it’s one where he calls the shots. He stays true to his own self and his own brand of personal integrity to stay afloat.
The empowerment the architect exercises serves as an inspiring example to anyone who needs to find or to rediscover this capability, one of our basic birthrights. That’s important, because it carries implications related to such matters as our power of choice and our ability to change, fundamental elements that factor into the healthy functioning of the conscious creation process. His peers in both camps no longer make use of this ability, because they’ve allowed themselves to be dumbed down and/or numbed by their circumstances, which, in turn, has prompted them to forsake this personal attribute (and even to formulate the beliefs required to make use of it). The hotel guests in particular have abrogated their awareness and deployment of this trait to such a degree that they diligently attend (and blindly heed the advice of) ludicrously simplistic workshops heralding the benefits of being coupled versus being single (sessions laughably similar to those depicted in the over-the-top comedy “But I’m a Cheerleader” (1999) in which gay teens go through a structured deprogramming regimen in an attempt to “restore” them to the heterosexual lifestyle).
Giving away our personal power in this way has devastating consequences, as evidenced by the prevailing ways of life apparent in this film. In addition to surrendering our ability to balance collective cooperation and personal individuality, we allow those setting up the prevalent paradigms to call the shots – and to run roughshod over us. This becomes evident in the behavioral hypocrisy exhibited by the leadership of the two dominant camps, who freely exercise rights denied to those they oversee. One might rightly ask why they get away with it; and the answer is “Because we let them,” mainly by holding fast to beliefs that give them carte blanche to do as they want while we kowtow to their whims.
In light of this, the narrative of “The Lobster” can be seen as an allegory for contemporary society and its various institutions, especially those related to religion, politics and even sacred cows like political correctness, regardless of which end of the ideological spectrum one adheres to. It also shows us that, even when we’re willing to forego one viewpoint in favor of an alternative, we’re just as likely to fall prey to equally intolerant attitudes and outlooks by switching sides. Changing tribes doesn’t mean we’re able to escape tribal mentality; it just means setting ourselves up for a different form of mentality (something to bear in mind with regard to highly charged events, such as this year’s hotly contested US presidential race).
In a similarly symbolic way, the story line painfully portrays the effects of personal detachment, something that has, unfortunately, run rampant in today’s society, especially when it comes to matters of emotional engagement. All too often, we limit ourselves to contemplating mere surface considerations, never going deeper to anything more meaningful. Again, because we’ve allowed ourselves to become dumbed and numbed, we’ve bought into beliefs that support such woefully shallow conditions, keeping us more removed from one another than ever before (an amazing irony given the heavy-handed emphasis placed on sanctioned coupling in the film’s narrative).
Only when we assert our personal power – and formulate beliefs that support it – can we avoid becoming ideological automatons. This is especially crucial for striking the aforementioned balance required to square the needs of society and the individual. Let’s hope we figure that out before we find ourselves headed for a pot of boiling water and a cup of drawn butter.
“The Lobster” is one of the most unusual – and most provocative – films to come along in quite a while. Its decidedly bizarre humor and wry symbolism work wonders in skewering everything from contemporary courting rituals to relationship dynamics to social institutions. The picture regrettably becomes a little bogged down in the second hour, going off on several tangents that could have easily been deleted. On balance, however, “The Lobster” offers a thoughtful, satirical look at where we stand as a society – and, one hopes, where we’ll resist the temptation to go.
Even though the picture is just now being released in North America, director Yorgos Lanthimos’s offering debuted overseas in 2015 and racked up an impressive dossier of film awards and nominations. Among its many honors, “The Lobster” captured three awards at the 2015 Cannes Film Festival, including the Jury Prize, and it was a Palme d’Or nominee, the event’s highest honor. It also earned a nomination for best British film production in the BAFTA Awards program, the UK’s equivalent of the Oscars.
Striking the right balance between conformity and individuality may be one of the most daunting ventures we’ll undertake in our lives, and finding the right mix may take a lot of effort. But, if we look into our hearts and minds to identify our true selves, and then formulate manifesting beliefs in line with our authentic being, we can materialize an existence that harmonizes the aforementioned attributes, offering us a chance at lives truly worth living on all fronts, both for ourselves and for those with whom we share it.
A Postscript: If you were faced with having to decide which animal you would become, what would you choose? Find out by taking a quiz on the movie’s web site to see which creatures might best suit you.
Copyright © 2016, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Monday, May 23, 2016
This Week in Movies with Meaning
Reviews of "Money Monster" and "The Lobster" and a summer movie preview are all in the latest Movies with Meaning post on the Blog Page of The Good Radio Network, available by clicking here.
Lee Gates (George Clooney) hosts the colorful financial news show Money Monster in director Jodie Foster’s gripping new thriller, “Money Monster.” Photo by Atsushi Nishijima, courtesy © 2016 CTMG, Inc.
Looking for love in a world bereft of meaningful emotion poses quite a challenge for a pair of loners (Colin Farrell, left, and Rachel Weisz, right) in the unusual and moving new satirical comedy-drama, “The Lobster.” Photo courtesy of A24.
A Summer Movie Preview
If you missed my metaphysical summer movie preview on The CoffeeCast with host Tom Cheevers, you can now catch the podcast by clicking here.
Sunday, May 22, 2016
‘Viva’ urges us to find our voice
“Viva” (2015 production, 2016 release). Cast: Héctor Medina, Jorge Perugorría, Luis Alberto García, Renata Maikel Machin Blanco, Luis Manuel Alvarez, Paula Andrea Ali Rivera, Laura Alemán, Oscar Ibarra Napoles, Luis Angel Batista Bruzón, Jorge Eduardo Acosta Ordonez. Web site. Trailer.
Identifying our own form of self-expression can be a challenging process, but, once we find it, we generally want to move forward with it enthusiastically and unimpeded. However, despite such fervor, sometimes we encounter hindrances that keep us from proceeding, frustrating our progress. We often wonder why this happens, but many times we eventually come to discover that they serve a purpose, one that we fail to understand at the time they unfold. Such is the case in the heartfelt new drama, “Viva.”
Jesus Gutierrez (Héctor Medina) struggles to get by in the slums of Havana, Cuba. The young hairdresser has no family, but his friends (Laura Alemán, Paula Andre Ali Rivera, Luis Angel Batista Bruzón) and customers do what they can to look after him. In addition to his small pool of regular clients, Jesus coifs the wigs of the performers at a local drag club. But, when those efforts don’t generate enough income, he takes to the streets as a hustler, servicing the needs of visiting tourists and assorted locals. Turning tricks is not something he’d rather do, though, so he seeks another option, one that he finds right under his nose – trying his hand at being a drag queen.
With the somewhat tepid support of the club’s owner, Mama (Luis Alberto García), Jesus takes to the stage under the performing name Viva. His initial outing leaves much to be desired, but Mama agrees to give him another shot. With pointers from fellow performers (Luis Manuel Alvarez, Renata Maikel Machin Blanco), he learns how to improve his stage presence. They also show him how to coax money from audience members. But that suggestion backfires when Jesus is slugged while soliciting tips from a middle-aged patron who proves to be an angry, homophobic drunk – a man who also turns out to be his long-estranged father, Angel (Jorge Perugorría), a one-time boxing contender jailed for murder.
Angel informs Jesus that he’s returned to take back the life that he believes was taken from him. He moves in with his son and quickly proceeds to start dictating to him how he’ll live his life – including giving up drag. Just when Jesus thinks he’s found his calling, he has the rug pulled out from underneath him.
Jesus refuses to be deterred, though. He does his best to cope with Angel’s return, taking whatever steps are necessary to support them both while quietly keeping his own dream alive. It’s an exercise in learning what it means to build his own inner strength, much of which, interestingly enough, comes from the power of forgiveness. Through his stormy, gut-wrenchingly emotional relationship with Angel, the would-be drag queen truly learns what it means to be fierce.
Jesus Gutierrez (Héctor Medina), an aspiring drag queen who performs under the stage name Viva, seeks to find his own voice in “Viva.” Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.
Fighting for our goals takes tremendous fortitude, but, even with the best of intentions, we’re often faced with having to ask ourselves if we have enough of what it takes. In many instances, this is where the power of belief (specifically, our belief in ourselves) comes into play. And this is crucial, since our beliefs, along with our thoughts, emotions and intents, form the cornerstone of the conscious creation process, the means by which we manifest the reality we experience.
To a certain extent, the degree of stock we put into our beliefs makes a difference. When we give ourselves lukewarm support, we may prevail in materializing our dreams, but we may not, either, especially if the undertaking involves a substantial aspiration. So, the more fervor we pour into our beliefs, the greater our chances of seeing our objectives fulfilled. This, in essence, is the nature of faith.
For his part, Jesus has tremendous faith in his abilities, even if he’s initially lacking in practice and poise. However, he knows he can pull off his drag act, and he grows ever more confident and convinced of that as time passes. What’s more, the more he sheds conflicting beliefs that undercut his efforts – particularly those related to fear and self-doubt – the more grounded he becomes in his convictions. He thus sets an inspiring example for us all to follow, no matter what we may be pursuing in our lives.
Ironically, Jesus draws some of his inspiration from Angel, someone who literally once fought for his dreams. However, what separates Jesus from his father is his faith in himself. He’s willing to hold fast to his goal, despite whatever obstacles appear in his path.
Angel, by contrast, apparently gave up on his goal of becoming a boxing contender by falling into a life of crime, drinking and, eventually, failing health. Unlike his son, he lacked the degree of faith in himself that he needed to see things through, succumbing to influences that sabotaged his dreams. And, even though his release from prison renewed his ambition of getting back into the game (by becoming a boxing coach), he still struggles with mustering the conviction he needs to realize that goal, especially now that his life has become dominated by daily alcoholic binges.
Angel Gutierrez (Jorge Perugorría, left), a one-time boxing contender jailed for murder, returns home to his estranged son, Jesus (Héctor Medina, right), an aspiring drag queen, in an attempt to get his life back in the engaging new drama, “Viva.” Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.
Still, ironically enough, the boxer ends up teaching the drag queen how to fight for his voice. In this way, Angel looks to turn things around for himself, even if his methods are somewhat backhanded and unconscious. In doing so, he thus avails himself of one of conscious creation’s greatest (and often most overlooked) blessings – an opportunity for redemption. While this may not enable Angel to undo his past, it nevertheless gives him a chance to make amends for it, to give a gift to himself and to the son he abandoned, to accomplish something meaningful and contributory while he’s still able to.
At the same time, Angel’s actions benefit Jesus by showing him the way toward gratitude and forgiveness (and everything that comes from them). These qualities make it possible for Jesus to appreciate what his father has given him, even if those gifts have come to him in a roundabout manner. They further bolster his beliefs in himself and his talents, which may not have materialized to the same extent were it not for his father’s influence. Such self-awareness, in turn, allows Jesus to galvanize himself in his beliefs, planting the seeds for his career and a promising future. Having endured his circumstances and identified the silver lining in them, Jesus finds the inner strength needed to rise to his own greatness.
While the narrative of “Viva” is somewhat formulaic, the picture’s unique setting and characters help to distinguish it from other similar dramas. This touching, sometimes-humorous, sometimes-gritty film explores what it means to find one’s voice while simultaneously plumbing the depths of concepts like forgiveness and redemption. It’s also refreshing that the picture doesn’t rely on an endless repertoire of musical numbers to carry the story, despite the importance of drag to the film’s story. Admittedly, the pacing slows a bit too much in the final half hour, but “Viva” comes through on all other fronts, delivering a tremendously powerful punch.
Expressing ourselves is something we all seek to do to make our mark on the world, to bring forth our inner self into tangible being. It’s often a struggle, even when we have a sense of what it entails. But it’s also an undeniable passion, one that’s not easily silenced or squelched, especially when fueled by our personal fervor and faith in ourselves. Finding a way to see it made manifest is the calling we must all address, and, if we’re fortunate enough to succeed, we’re able to live out the destiny we were intended to fulfill.
Copyright © 2016, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Identifying our own form of self-expression can be a challenging process, but, once we find it, we generally want to move forward with it enthusiastically and unimpeded. However, despite such fervor, sometimes we encounter hindrances that keep us from proceeding, frustrating our progress. We often wonder why this happens, but many times we eventually come to discover that they serve a purpose, one that we fail to understand at the time they unfold. Such is the case in the heartfelt new drama, “Viva.”
Jesus Gutierrez (Héctor Medina) struggles to get by in the slums of Havana, Cuba. The young hairdresser has no family, but his friends (Laura Alemán, Paula Andre Ali Rivera, Luis Angel Batista Bruzón) and customers do what they can to look after him. In addition to his small pool of regular clients, Jesus coifs the wigs of the performers at a local drag club. But, when those efforts don’t generate enough income, he takes to the streets as a hustler, servicing the needs of visiting tourists and assorted locals. Turning tricks is not something he’d rather do, though, so he seeks another option, one that he finds right under his nose – trying his hand at being a drag queen.
With the somewhat tepid support of the club’s owner, Mama (Luis Alberto García), Jesus takes to the stage under the performing name Viva. His initial outing leaves much to be desired, but Mama agrees to give him another shot. With pointers from fellow performers (Luis Manuel Alvarez, Renata Maikel Machin Blanco), he learns how to improve his stage presence. They also show him how to coax money from audience members. But that suggestion backfires when Jesus is slugged while soliciting tips from a middle-aged patron who proves to be an angry, homophobic drunk – a man who also turns out to be his long-estranged father, Angel (Jorge Perugorría), a one-time boxing contender jailed for murder.
Angel informs Jesus that he’s returned to take back the life that he believes was taken from him. He moves in with his son and quickly proceeds to start dictating to him how he’ll live his life – including giving up drag. Just when Jesus thinks he’s found his calling, he has the rug pulled out from underneath him.
Jesus refuses to be deterred, though. He does his best to cope with Angel’s return, taking whatever steps are necessary to support them both while quietly keeping his own dream alive. It’s an exercise in learning what it means to build his own inner strength, much of which, interestingly enough, comes from the power of forgiveness. Through his stormy, gut-wrenchingly emotional relationship with Angel, the would-be drag queen truly learns what it means to be fierce.
Fighting for our goals takes tremendous fortitude, but, even with the best of intentions, we’re often faced with having to ask ourselves if we have enough of what it takes. In many instances, this is where the power of belief (specifically, our belief in ourselves) comes into play. And this is crucial, since our beliefs, along with our thoughts, emotions and intents, form the cornerstone of the conscious creation process, the means by which we manifest the reality we experience.
To a certain extent, the degree of stock we put into our beliefs makes a difference. When we give ourselves lukewarm support, we may prevail in materializing our dreams, but we may not, either, especially if the undertaking involves a substantial aspiration. So, the more fervor we pour into our beliefs, the greater our chances of seeing our objectives fulfilled. This, in essence, is the nature of faith.
For his part, Jesus has tremendous faith in his abilities, even if he’s initially lacking in practice and poise. However, he knows he can pull off his drag act, and he grows ever more confident and convinced of that as time passes. What’s more, the more he sheds conflicting beliefs that undercut his efforts – particularly those related to fear and self-doubt – the more grounded he becomes in his convictions. He thus sets an inspiring example for us all to follow, no matter what we may be pursuing in our lives.
Ironically, Jesus draws some of his inspiration from Angel, someone who literally once fought for his dreams. However, what separates Jesus from his father is his faith in himself. He’s willing to hold fast to his goal, despite whatever obstacles appear in his path.
Angel, by contrast, apparently gave up on his goal of becoming a boxing contender by falling into a life of crime, drinking and, eventually, failing health. Unlike his son, he lacked the degree of faith in himself that he needed to see things through, succumbing to influences that sabotaged his dreams. And, even though his release from prison renewed his ambition of getting back into the game (by becoming a boxing coach), he still struggles with mustering the conviction he needs to realize that goal, especially now that his life has become dominated by daily alcoholic binges.
Still, ironically enough, the boxer ends up teaching the drag queen how to fight for his voice. In this way, Angel looks to turn things around for himself, even if his methods are somewhat backhanded and unconscious. In doing so, he thus avails himself of one of conscious creation’s greatest (and often most overlooked) blessings – an opportunity for redemption. While this may not enable Angel to undo his past, it nevertheless gives him a chance to make amends for it, to give a gift to himself and to the son he abandoned, to accomplish something meaningful and contributory while he’s still able to.
At the same time, Angel’s actions benefit Jesus by showing him the way toward gratitude and forgiveness (and everything that comes from them). These qualities make it possible for Jesus to appreciate what his father has given him, even if those gifts have come to him in a roundabout manner. They further bolster his beliefs in himself and his talents, which may not have materialized to the same extent were it not for his father’s influence. Such self-awareness, in turn, allows Jesus to galvanize himself in his beliefs, planting the seeds for his career and a promising future. Having endured his circumstances and identified the silver lining in them, Jesus finds the inner strength needed to rise to his own greatness.
While the narrative of “Viva” is somewhat formulaic, the picture’s unique setting and characters help to distinguish it from other similar dramas. This touching, sometimes-humorous, sometimes-gritty film explores what it means to find one’s voice while simultaneously plumbing the depths of concepts like forgiveness and redemption. It’s also refreshing that the picture doesn’t rely on an endless repertoire of musical numbers to carry the story, despite the importance of drag to the film’s story. Admittedly, the pacing slows a bit too much in the final half hour, but “Viva” comes through on all other fronts, delivering a tremendously powerful punch.
Expressing ourselves is something we all seek to do to make our mark on the world, to bring forth our inner self into tangible being. It’s often a struggle, even when we have a sense of what it entails. But it’s also an undeniable passion, one that’s not easily silenced or squelched, especially when fueled by our personal fervor and faith in ourselves. Finding a way to see it made manifest is the calling we must all address, and, if we’re fortunate enough to succeed, we’re able to live out the destiny we were intended to fulfill.
Copyright © 2016, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Saturday, May 21, 2016
Check out Today's CoffeeCast
Whats coming to the movies this summer? Check out my metaphysical cinema preview on The CoffeeCast with host Tom Cheevers, today at 1 pm ET/10 am PT on Netroots Radio, by clicking here.
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