“Elysium” (2013). Cast: Matt Damon, Jodie Foster, Sharlto Copley, Alice Braga, William Fichtner, Diego Luna, Wagner Moura, Faran Tahir, Brandon Auret, Josh Blacker, Jose Pablo Cantillo, Adrian Holmes, Emma Tremblay, Maxwell Perry Cotton, Valentina Giron, Yolanda Abbud L. Director: Neill Blomkamp. Screenplay: Neill Blomkamp. Web site. Trailer.
Envisioning the fulfillment of our dreams is something many of us hope to achieve in our lives. But the manifestation process can be a dual-edged sword, depending on what we do with it in birthing the reality we ultimately experience. Such is the lot faced by the characters from two very different worlds in this summer’s latest big-budget, sci-fi blockbuster, “Elysium.”
If you think life is hard now, consider what it’s like in 2154 (at least as depicted in this film). The Earth has become seriously overpopulated and environmentally devastated, overridden with disease, crime, pollution, corruption and cynicism. Control of a perpetually unruly population is managed by brutal robotic droids, highly intrusive surveillance drones and freely dispensed tranquilizers. Even the slightest transgressions, like using sarcasm in addressing authority figures, is treated harshly. It’s such an unimaginably horrible existence that one can’t help but wonder why anyone would want to hang around.
Elysium, a giant space station orbiting the Earth, serves as the beautiful – and intentionally segregated – home of the planet’s wealthy and privileged in director Neill Blomkamp’s disturbing new futurist tale, “Elysium.” Photo © 2012 Columbia TriStar Marketing Group Inc., courtesy of Sony Pictures Entertainment.
In fact, it’s that very logic that drove the planet’s wealthy and privileged to flee the Earth and resettle on Elysium, an enormous orbital space station, where all of life’s finery has been re-created and where all of the world’s ills, such as poverty and disease, have been virtually obliterated. Of course, to preserve and successfully manage that way of life, Elysium’s leadership has instituted strict measures to keep out the great unwashed masses. Access is seriously restricted, and anyone who attempts to do an end run around Elysium’s elaborate security systems is dealt with severely, thanks to the strong-arm tactics of Defense Secretary Delacourt (Jodie Foster). Some of Delacourt’s measures are so stringent, in fact, that it worries Elysium’s ruling council, including President Patel (Faran Tahir). Nevertheless, despite these concerns, the “threat” of the volatility that might erupt if the two worlds were to cross paths is seen as so great that almost anything is tolerated to maintain order, as well as the self-imposed segregation. However, given these precarious circumstances, it’s only a matter of time before someone from the world below figures out how to successfully dodge the system and infiltrate Elysium’s supposedly impenetrable defenses.
Elysium’s hawkish Defense Secretary Delacourt (Jodie Foster) resorts to whatever tactics are necessary to preserve the privileged way of life on an orbiting space station reserved for the wealthy in the new summer blockbuster, “Elysium.” Photo by Kimberley French, © 2012 Columbia TriStar Marketing Group Inc., courtesy of Sony Pictures Entertainment.
That possibility surfaces when Max (Matt Damon), an ex-convict turned factory worker sincerely attempting to go straight, is injured on the job. Having been exposed to a lethal dose of radiation and with only days to live, he’s desperate to get to Elysium to access its regenerative healing technology. He turns to Spider (Wagner Moura), a one-time partner-in-crime whose nefarious activities include the smuggling of unauthorized would-be Elysium émigrés. He agrees to help Max in exchange for a favor, namely, obtaining classified computer information – by way of a high-tech direct cerebral download – from a high-profile target, John Carlyle (William Fichtner), one of Elysium’s prominent residents and the owner of the company where Max was injured.
With nothing to lose, Max agrees to Spider’s proposal, but, in doing so, he unwittingly unleashes a chain of events with implications far greater than he or anyone else on either world could have envisioned. Before long, a newly armored Max becomes embroiled in a high-stakes conflict centered on possession of the download data, which proves to be far more significant than anyone realized. Along the way he does battle with a ruthless mercenary named Kruger (Sharlto Copley) and reconnects his childhood friend Frey (Alice Braga) and her terminally ill daughter (Emma Tremblay), all leading up to a conclusion that has far-reaching ramifications for Elysium and Earth alike.
Desperate to access the regenerative healing technology available on a space station reserved for the wealthy and privileged, terminally ill ex-convict Max (Matt Damon, center), aided by his friend Julio (Diego Luna, left), seeks the help of a onetime partner-in-crime, Spider (Wagner Moura, right), in “Elysium.” Photo by Kimberley French, © 2012 Columbia TriStar Marketing Group Inc., courtesy of Sony Pictures Entertainment.
When we engage in the practice of conscious creation, we create the reality that surrounds us through the power of our beliefs. Naturally, then, whatever results depends on where we put our focus, for we indeed get what we concentrate upon. And understanding that is crucial to appreciate how the narrative of “Elysium” plays out.
For example, the residents of the city in the sky are so preoccupied with preserving the sanctity of their environment against the encroachment of outsiders that they’ll go to almost any lengths to keep them out. Yet, for all their sweeping protective efforts, they’re still routinely besieged by those who audaciously attempt to penetrate Elysium’s defense perimeter (thanks to the smuggling operations of illegal immigration traffickers like Spider). Ironically, though, the Elysians’ obsession with keeping out the unwanted leads to continuing onslaughts by the disenfranchised seeking to gain entry at any cost. Thus, by putting their attention on what they don’t want, the Elysians “unintentionally” end up attracting precisely that. This explains why the conscious creation process is sometimes referred to as the law of attraction, for it operates, with uncanny reliability, to draw to us exactly what we concentrate on, consciously or subconsciously and for better or worse, as a result of the beliefs we put out to the world.
This principle is apparent in other ways in the film as well. For instance, from the time Max was a boy (Maxwell Perry Cotton), the young orphan dreamed that he and his childhood pal Frey (Valentine Giron) would one day find themselves on Elysium. Little did he know that the conviction of his beliefs would eventually make that happen (even if he didn’t end up there in quite the way he thought he would). Max’s improbable odyssey thus illustrates how faithfully this process works.
If it seems as though there’s an element of “destiny” in this, you’d be right, even if the outcome arises more purposely than serendipitously, with intent playing as much, if not a greater, part than “fate” in such a scenario. That’s because probabilities like this often unfold as a result of the concept of value fulfillment, the conscious creation principle related to living out our lives in line with being our best, truest selves for our own betterment, as well as that of those around us.
At first glance, Max might not seem like someone particularly concerned with such a lofty notion as this. Having lived a difficult life, and despite his recent efforts to improve his circumstances, he nevertheless comes across as someone who readily does whatever it takes to get by. But, no matter what “flaws” he may possess or whatever transgressions he may have committed, at heart he’s a good man, one who’s concerned with issues like fairness and justice. In fact, while he was growing up in the orphanage, a kindly nun (Yolanda Abbud L.) recognized these qualities in Max, telling him that he was destined for accomplishing something great one day. The sister obviously saw the value fulfillment aspect of his character, even if Max didn’t see it for himself at the time (or even much later on for that matter). Yet, despite his lack of conscious recognition of the beliefs that give rise to his value fulfillment, they make their presence felt in the reality he materializes. They serve to manifest an existence in line with their intrinsic nature, indisputably illustrating the inherent power associated with them.
Kruger (Sharlto Copley), a brutal mercenary, is one of the many weapons in the defense arsenal of a space station strictly reserved for the privileged in Neill Blomkamp’s “Elysium.” Photo by Kimberley French, © 2012 Columbia TriStar Marketing Group Inc., courtesy of Sony Pictures Entertainment.
Value fulfillment tends to play an integral role where beliefs related to implementing change are involved, and, given the disparate state of affairs on Earth and Elysium, it’s obvious that reform is long overdue. The challenges involved in evoking meaningful change are indeed daunting under circumstances like these, which, of course, increases the relevance of value fulfillment in bringing new conditions into being. And having someone like Max to champion such a cause significantly boosts the likelihood of seeing an initiative like this ultimately bear fruit. Witnessing the blossoming of such a scenario proves quite inspiring, too, for those both on and off the screen.
On balance, “Elysium” is a good, though not outstanding, film. Its excellent special effects, well-handled action sequences, capable writing and generally fine performances (except for Foster’s stilted, over-the-top portrayal) make for enjoyable viewing, even if the overall narrative is ultimately fairly predictable as both a cautionary tale and heroic saga. Its sociopolitical and religious/spiritual allusions cover their territory well, despite their sometimes less-than-subtle (if not downright heavy-handed) treatment. Despite these strengths, however, a little more attention to character development (especially in the area of motivations) would have gone a long way toward overcoming the picture’s tendency toward depicting the protagonists as monodimensional archetypes.
It’s also a little disconcerting that many of the movie’s attributes recall director Neill Blompkamp’s most recent offering, “District 9” (2009), only with a bigger budget and slightly rearranged plot elements. Given his artistic track record, we now know that the filmmaker is truly adept at probing the kinds of themes common to both pictures, but it would have been eminently more satisfying to see him attempt to stretch a bit more in this latest effort (something I sincerely hope he takes to heart in his next work).
The shortage of originality in the overall production can be seen in some of the film’s specific elements, too, such as the art direction, set design and costuming. Again, while these aspects are generally capably handled, they’re also all a little too familiar, reminiscent of such releases as “Blade Runner” (1982), “Total Recall” (2012), “THX 1138” (1971) and the “Mad Max” films (1979, 1981, 1985). Regrettably, as any good cook knows, warming over leftovers may make them tasty, but it doesn’t make them any fresher.
As any Bible student or conscious creation practitioner knows, we truly reap what we sow, so it would behoove us to select our seeds carefully. “Elysium” shows us the different kinds of harvests that can result from the belief choices we make and the nurturing we give to them. So, to realize the bounty we seek, we had better tend to our intents carefully – or be prepared to deal with the consequences.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Thursday, August 8, 2013
‘Still Mine’ unmasks the hazards of creative limitation
“Still Mine” (2012 production, 2013 release). Cast: James Cromwell, Geneviève Bujold, Campbell Scott, Julie Stewart, Rick Roberts, Jonathan Potts, George R. Robertson, Barbara Gordon, Ronan Rees, Zachary Bennett, Chuck Shamata, Verlyn Plowman. Director: Michael McGowan. Screenplay: Michael McGowan. Web site. Trailer.
The power of creation is one of our essential birthrights, one that enables us to manifest any of a number of infinite possibilities. But, when our efforts become unduly stifled by limitations, such hindrances can make for difficult times. The perils of these restrictions can lead to frustration and heartache, challenges that are clearly depicted in the new, fact-based drama, “Still Mine.”
New Brunswick farm couple Craig and Irene Morrison (James Cromwell, Geneviève Bujold) have lived a long, happy, love-filled life together. They’ve spent many a productive year in Maritime Canada, herding cows, growing strawberries and raising seven children, including their daughter Ruth (Julie Stewart) and son John (Rick Roberts). But, for all their sweat equity, they don’t have much to show for their efforts, at least financially speaking. Under typical conditions, they’ve managed to get by, but, now that the infirmities of age have set in, the shortage of funds has become something of a problem (universal health care notwithstanding).
New Brunswick farm couple Craig and Irene Morrison (James Cromwell, left, and Geneviève Bujold, right) gaze out upon an uncertain future in the heartwarming new release, “Still Mine.” Photo by Ken Woroner, courtesy of Samuel Goldwyn Films.
The biggest challenge the couple faces is Irene’s failing memory and declining motor skills. Try as she might to keep up her regular routine, she’s unfortunately succumbing to the ravages of time. Those problems are exacerbated by the ramshackle state of their two-story farmhouse, which is becoming difficult to maneuver about and hard to keep heated in winter. A new living space – one capable of accommodating Irene’s emerging special needs – is clearly in order. However, renovating the structure wouldn’t be practical, and, given its decrepit condition, the couple is unlikely to get much money for it if they attempted to sell it and buy something new. What are they to do?
While mulling over their options, Craig comes up with a novel idea. The two things the Morrisons have in ample supply are land and timber, so Craig proposes building something new – with his own hands. He envisions a smaller, one-story structure, one that would be easier to manage, less costly to keep warm and more accessible for Irene. And, since he would be doing the work himself, it would be eminently affordable, too. Irene likes the idea, so Craig decides to move ahead with his plan.
Would-be home builder Craig Morrison (James Cromwell) seeks to construct a new residence for himself and his memory-challenged wife in director Michael McGowan’s engaging new film, “Still Mine.” Photo by Ken Woroner, courtesy of Samuel Goldwyn Films.
Everything seems to be going well until the outside world begins to make its presence felt. The trouble starts when Craig applies for a construction permit from the local housing authority, where one of its officials, Rick Daigle (Jonathan Potts), begins quoting rules and regulations on everything from building plans to material quality certifications. And, despite Craig’s subsequent good faith efforts to comply, he’s thwarted at every turn. Faced with a stop work order, he’s forced into hiring an attorney, Gary Fulton (Campbell Scott), to plead his case and demonstrate compliance. But, even though Craig moves forward with determination, he’s in a race against time; as the construction delays pile up, Irene’s condition continues to deteriorate, necessitating drastic adjustments to their current living space and life-style.
Over time, the housing authority’s interference with Craig’s efforts intensifies, resulting in ever-increasing frustration. In fact, the government’s scrutiny grows so severe that it seems to move beyond merely enforcing building code considerations, tacitly becoming a sort of personal vendetta. With the breaking point reached, Craig resorts to extreme measures to further his plans. The question is, will he go too far? What implications are involved in his actions? Will the new house ever get finished? And what of Irene – will her needs be adequately met? It’s a lot for the octogenarian to handle, but, with determination and principle on his side, Craig forges ahead, no matter what consequences may await him.
Faced with the challenges of memory impairment and reduced motor skills, farm wife Irene Morrison (Geneviève Bujold) struggles to get by in the compelling new drama, “Still Mine.” Photo by Ken Woroner, courtesy of Samuel Goldwyn Films.
One of the inherent qualities characterizing conscious creation is, of course, the act of creation. Indeed, as innately creative beings, engaging in such acts is what we do. In fact, one of the primary purposes of our existence is to explore the creative possibilities of physical existence, a process that, ideally, works best when we’re able to pursue it unfettered, without undue limitation or interference.
So, given Craig’s circumstances, it should come as no surprise why he experiences such mounting frustration. As someone who’s obviously quite capable of accomplishing what he’s set out to do, it has to be incomprehensibly vexing to encounter the incessant interruptions foisted upon him. His exasperation is no doubt compounded by the fact that the true agenda behind the housing authority’s resistance is not always made clear. Are the petty bureaucrats he deals with purely interested in safety concerns, or is there something else going on? While nothing definitive is ever stated, there are definite suggestions that there may well be more afoot than the authority’s stated concerns.
Of course, when we create our reality, we create the totality of it, too. So, as much as Craig is attempting to manifest a new house, he has also materialized the circumstances he’s encountering, including the frustrations he experiences with government officials. But why?
When hounded by government officials over the propriety of his home building efforts, farmer Craig Morrison (James Cromwell, right) hires attorney Gary Fulton (Campbell Scott, left) to represent him in the touching new fact-based film, “Still Mine.” Photo by Ken Woroner, courtesy of Samuel Goldwyn Films.
As Craig’s story plays out, it begins to attract public attention, including through the reporting of a local journalist, Marty Klinkenberg (Verlyn Plowman). The reporter’s articles help to make the local community aware of what’s going on, not only of the particulars of Craig’s situation, but also, by way of implication, of several larger issues.
Most notably, Craig’s actions (and Marty’s reporting of them) help to shed light on the significant effects that interference and limitation can have on the exercise of creative expression, hindrances that can curtail whatever one seeks to create, whether it’s an oil painting, a work of poetry or even a new house. In that respect, then, Craig serves as a sort of metaphysical standard bearer to champion this cause and remind the world at large about it, even if others have lost sight of it. This is particularly important for encouraging the efforts of those who are truly gifted at transforming their visions into materialized expressions of physical reality. Those who are skilled at conceiving such creations and then bringing them into being (especially those who operate from a position of integrity and do so with supreme self-confidence) should be cheered on for their efforts. Moreover, those who would deliberately set up roadblocks to impede their initiatives should be called out for their actions, no matter what their motivations might be. On all of these fronts, Craig’s efforts serve to shine a much-needed light on them.
Craig’s story also illustrates how collaborative actions can work wonders in achieving desired results. The power of co-creation is truly an awesome force and can result in miraculous outcomes when allowed to play out. With the energy and support of his family, friends and the public, Craig just might accomplish what he set out to do. Again, he and his co-creators serve as an example of this principle, providing inspiration for those seeking to realize desired outcomes through collective effort.
This little-known independent release is easily one of the year’s best pictures thus far (and I sincerely hope it doesn’t get forgotten during awards season). It features excellent lead performances by Cromwell and Bujold (the best that they’ve each turned in for quite some time), as well as Potts as the petty bureaucrat. The picture is generally well written, evoking genuine heartfelt emotion without becoming schmaltzy or overly sentimental, despite a narrative that could have easily led to that. It’s also gorgeously filmed, showing off Atlantic Canada in a beautiful light. Writer-director Michael McGowan has truly come up with a winner in this picture.
In an age when our actions seem to be increasingly restricted by the whims and dictates of those in positions of “authority,” it helps to be reminded of who actually has domain over our power, particularly where the power to create is concerned. To that end, “Still Mine” serves a valuable purpose, prompting us to recall – and, when needed, act upon – our inherently creative nature. And, if we hope to avoid the perils that arise when we allow limitation to be imposed upon us, we had better pay attention.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
The power of creation is one of our essential birthrights, one that enables us to manifest any of a number of infinite possibilities. But, when our efforts become unduly stifled by limitations, such hindrances can make for difficult times. The perils of these restrictions can lead to frustration and heartache, challenges that are clearly depicted in the new, fact-based drama, “Still Mine.”
New Brunswick farm couple Craig and Irene Morrison (James Cromwell, Geneviève Bujold) have lived a long, happy, love-filled life together. They’ve spent many a productive year in Maritime Canada, herding cows, growing strawberries and raising seven children, including their daughter Ruth (Julie Stewart) and son John (Rick Roberts). But, for all their sweat equity, they don’t have much to show for their efforts, at least financially speaking. Under typical conditions, they’ve managed to get by, but, now that the infirmities of age have set in, the shortage of funds has become something of a problem (universal health care notwithstanding).
New Brunswick farm couple Craig and Irene Morrison (James Cromwell, left, and Geneviève Bujold, right) gaze out upon an uncertain future in the heartwarming new release, “Still Mine.” Photo by Ken Woroner, courtesy of Samuel Goldwyn Films.
The biggest challenge the couple faces is Irene’s failing memory and declining motor skills. Try as she might to keep up her regular routine, she’s unfortunately succumbing to the ravages of time. Those problems are exacerbated by the ramshackle state of their two-story farmhouse, which is becoming difficult to maneuver about and hard to keep heated in winter. A new living space – one capable of accommodating Irene’s emerging special needs – is clearly in order. However, renovating the structure wouldn’t be practical, and, given its decrepit condition, the couple is unlikely to get much money for it if they attempted to sell it and buy something new. What are they to do?
While mulling over their options, Craig comes up with a novel idea. The two things the Morrisons have in ample supply are land and timber, so Craig proposes building something new – with his own hands. He envisions a smaller, one-story structure, one that would be easier to manage, less costly to keep warm and more accessible for Irene. And, since he would be doing the work himself, it would be eminently affordable, too. Irene likes the idea, so Craig decides to move ahead with his plan.
Would-be home builder Craig Morrison (James Cromwell) seeks to construct a new residence for himself and his memory-challenged wife in director Michael McGowan’s engaging new film, “Still Mine.” Photo by Ken Woroner, courtesy of Samuel Goldwyn Films.
Everything seems to be going well until the outside world begins to make its presence felt. The trouble starts when Craig applies for a construction permit from the local housing authority, where one of its officials, Rick Daigle (Jonathan Potts), begins quoting rules and regulations on everything from building plans to material quality certifications. And, despite Craig’s subsequent good faith efforts to comply, he’s thwarted at every turn. Faced with a stop work order, he’s forced into hiring an attorney, Gary Fulton (Campbell Scott), to plead his case and demonstrate compliance. But, even though Craig moves forward with determination, he’s in a race against time; as the construction delays pile up, Irene’s condition continues to deteriorate, necessitating drastic adjustments to their current living space and life-style.
Over time, the housing authority’s interference with Craig’s efforts intensifies, resulting in ever-increasing frustration. In fact, the government’s scrutiny grows so severe that it seems to move beyond merely enforcing building code considerations, tacitly becoming a sort of personal vendetta. With the breaking point reached, Craig resorts to extreme measures to further his plans. The question is, will he go too far? What implications are involved in his actions? Will the new house ever get finished? And what of Irene – will her needs be adequately met? It’s a lot for the octogenarian to handle, but, with determination and principle on his side, Craig forges ahead, no matter what consequences may await him.
Faced with the challenges of memory impairment and reduced motor skills, farm wife Irene Morrison (Geneviève Bujold) struggles to get by in the compelling new drama, “Still Mine.” Photo by Ken Woroner, courtesy of Samuel Goldwyn Films.
One of the inherent qualities characterizing conscious creation is, of course, the act of creation. Indeed, as innately creative beings, engaging in such acts is what we do. In fact, one of the primary purposes of our existence is to explore the creative possibilities of physical existence, a process that, ideally, works best when we’re able to pursue it unfettered, without undue limitation or interference.
So, given Craig’s circumstances, it should come as no surprise why he experiences such mounting frustration. As someone who’s obviously quite capable of accomplishing what he’s set out to do, it has to be incomprehensibly vexing to encounter the incessant interruptions foisted upon him. His exasperation is no doubt compounded by the fact that the true agenda behind the housing authority’s resistance is not always made clear. Are the petty bureaucrats he deals with purely interested in safety concerns, or is there something else going on? While nothing definitive is ever stated, there are definite suggestions that there may well be more afoot than the authority’s stated concerns.
Of course, when we create our reality, we create the totality of it, too. So, as much as Craig is attempting to manifest a new house, he has also materialized the circumstances he’s encountering, including the frustrations he experiences with government officials. But why?
When hounded by government officials over the propriety of his home building efforts, farmer Craig Morrison (James Cromwell, right) hires attorney Gary Fulton (Campbell Scott, left) to represent him in the touching new fact-based film, “Still Mine.” Photo by Ken Woroner, courtesy of Samuel Goldwyn Films.
As Craig’s story plays out, it begins to attract public attention, including through the reporting of a local journalist, Marty Klinkenberg (Verlyn Plowman). The reporter’s articles help to make the local community aware of what’s going on, not only of the particulars of Craig’s situation, but also, by way of implication, of several larger issues.
Most notably, Craig’s actions (and Marty’s reporting of them) help to shed light on the significant effects that interference and limitation can have on the exercise of creative expression, hindrances that can curtail whatever one seeks to create, whether it’s an oil painting, a work of poetry or even a new house. In that respect, then, Craig serves as a sort of metaphysical standard bearer to champion this cause and remind the world at large about it, even if others have lost sight of it. This is particularly important for encouraging the efforts of those who are truly gifted at transforming their visions into materialized expressions of physical reality. Those who are skilled at conceiving such creations and then bringing them into being (especially those who operate from a position of integrity and do so with supreme self-confidence) should be cheered on for their efforts. Moreover, those who would deliberately set up roadblocks to impede their initiatives should be called out for their actions, no matter what their motivations might be. On all of these fronts, Craig’s efforts serve to shine a much-needed light on them.
Craig’s story also illustrates how collaborative actions can work wonders in achieving desired results. The power of co-creation is truly an awesome force and can result in miraculous outcomes when allowed to play out. With the energy and support of his family, friends and the public, Craig just might accomplish what he set out to do. Again, he and his co-creators serve as an example of this principle, providing inspiration for those seeking to realize desired outcomes through collective effort.
This little-known independent release is easily one of the year’s best pictures thus far (and I sincerely hope it doesn’t get forgotten during awards season). It features excellent lead performances by Cromwell and Bujold (the best that they’ve each turned in for quite some time), as well as Potts as the petty bureaucrat. The picture is generally well written, evoking genuine heartfelt emotion without becoming schmaltzy or overly sentimental, despite a narrative that could have easily led to that. It’s also gorgeously filmed, showing off Atlantic Canada in a beautiful light. Writer-director Michael McGowan has truly come up with a winner in this picture.
In an age when our actions seem to be increasingly restricted by the whims and dictates of those in positions of “authority,” it helps to be reminded of who actually has domain over our power, particularly where the power to create is concerned. To that end, “Still Mine” serves a valuable purpose, prompting us to recall – and, when needed, act upon – our inherently creative nature. And, if we hope to avoid the perils that arise when we allow limitation to be imposed upon us, we had better pay attention.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
‘Blackfish’ reveals the high cost of captivity
“Blackfish” (2013). Featured Interviews: Samantha Berg, John Hargrove, John Jett, Carol Ray, Jeffrey Ventre, Dean Gomersall, Dr. Dave Duffus. Archive Footage: Dawn Brancheau. Director: Gabriela Cowperthwaite. Writers: Gabriela Cowperthwaite and Eli B. Despres. Web site. Trailer.
Every year, thousands of tourists flock to marine theme parks around the globe to see performances featuring large sea mammals like bottlenose dolphins and, especially, killer whales. Facilities like the SeaWorld parks feature heavily promoted, high-profile orca shows that generate billions of dollars annually from sales of tickets, stuffed animals and other souvenirs. But those prolific profits come at a high cost, as the new documentary, “Blackfish,” articulately illustrates.
So what, exactly, are the costs involved? As the film clearly shows, it involves more than just money.
Tilikum, a male killer whale linked to the death of SeaWorld Orlando trainer Dawn Brancheau in February 2010, performs for the crowds in the riveting new documentary, “Blackfish.” Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.
According to the experts interviewed for this picture, virtually all of the marine mammals in captivity are psychologically damaged in one way or another. This is especially true for killer whales, creatures who are known for being intelligent, highly social beings who live long lives in well-developed family groups in the wild. When held in captivity, however, they’re subjected to highly unnatural conditions for their species, generally confined to spaces far smaller than what they’re typically accustomed to and living out their days with whales who are seldom part of their native pods. But, if that weren’t bad enough, the offspring who are born in captivity are often taken away from their parents and transferred to other theme parks to meet marketplace demands, creating serious separation anxiety that exacerbates whatever other psychological ills these creatures may already be experiencing. (Think of what it might be like if your adoring two-year-old were suddenly snatched away from your loving arms and given to another parent in “need” of a child, and you get an idea what the whales go through, an emotional tragedy painfully depicted in the film.)
A pod of orcas swimming in the wild reveals the majestic beauty of these noble creatures, as shown in the powerful new documentary, “Blackfish.” Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.
Despite the parks’ claims that these creatures are better off in captivity than they are in the wild, the experts contend the exact opposite is true. They argue that captive orcas suffer from more health problems, social conflicts and behavioral issues than their wild counterparts, ultimately living much shorter and more stress-filled lives than they would in the open ocean. As one interview subject succinctly puts it, wouldn’t each of us go a little crazy if we were forced to spend 25 years in a bathtub?
But the whales aren’t the only victims in this scenario; the trainers who work with these animals are in potential peril as well. This became tragically apparent on February 24, 2010, when SeaWorld Orlando trainer Dawn Brancheau was killed in an incident involving a whale named Tilikum, a male orca with a history of unpredictable behavior and who was linked to other incidents that were quietly kept under wraps. What’s more, Tilikum’s unfortunate exploits are not isolated occurrences, either; other captive whales (some of whose genetic makeup includes Tilikum’s DNA) have been implicated in other incidents of violence against humans, something that has never been known to occur among orcas in the wild. Indeed, the fact that Tilikum’s DNA is in the genes of many orcas bred in captivity around the globe should give trainers worldwide cause for legitimate concern.
Knowing all this, then, one can’t help but ask how we can possibly sanction such activities in all good conscience. Isn’t such treatment unduly cruel, if not downright barbaric? And how would we feel if the roles were reversed? Wouldn’t we be pleading for our liberation as well? Moreover, is the pursuit of profit worth placing the lives of park staff members in perpetual jeopardy thanks to the whales’ erratic behavior? “Blackfish” addresses all of these questions, and it does so with unflinching candor.
SeaWorld Orlando killer whale Tilikum lives a life in captivity far different from his wild counterparts, as depicted in director Gabriela Cowperthwaite’s powerful new documentary, “Blackfish.” Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.
The film also says a lot metaphysically, at least by implication. As conscious creation practitioners are well aware, we each create our own realities through the power of our beliefs working in conjunction with the power of the Universe. Yet, despite the outcomes that arise from our individual efforts, we also work collectively to manifest co-created mass events, thanks to the intrinsic connectedness that binds everything in the Universe.
So how do these notions relate to the plight of captive killer whales? Our materialization of popular marine parks like those showcased in the film is an example of a mass event that’s designed, arguably, to draw our attention to (and thereby make us aware of) how we treat the other creatures who are part of our collective connected existence. At its heart, a co-creation such as this provides us with a much-needed lesson about ourselves. It essentially holds up a mirror that allows us to see ourselves in a light that we might not readily recognize otherwise. It prompts us to look at our nature, our beliefs and our behavior, some of which may be in serious need of significant re-examination. It forces us to ask ourselves questions like, knowing what we do, how can we allow this to go on? Are we really honoring our fellow earth creatures by keeping them captive and compelling them to perform inane stunts just to get fed? At bottom, are we really so superficial, self-centered and uncaring that we’ll go to such lengths for the sake of mere entertainment value?
Ideally, most of us would probably like to think we should be readily aware of the answers to such questions. But, if we’re indeed so oblivious about our actions that we can’t see the errors of our ways, then maybe we need to materialize creations like this – disturbing though they may be – to make the answers painfully obvious. Pointing out the folly of our ways, one would hope, would help to keep us from repeating them. What’s more, experiences like this should also help to enlighten us about the sacrifices the whales are making to further our maturation and education. By becoming aware of all this, we might be more likely to treat not only whales but all of our fellow earth dwellers more humanely (just imagine what a reality embodying that principle might be like!).
Whales are appropriate teachers for this, too. As pointed out in the film, their brains appear to be more developed than our own, suggesting that they may well possess an intelligence that exceeds ours, one that naturally, even matter-of-factly, recognizes the collective consciousness that binds all the members of their species. Such a heightened awareness enables them to act in concert with one another when the need arises, actions that are demonstrated repeatedly throughout the film, especially among orcas in the wild who are part of their native pods. This natural sense of collaboration allows them to accomplish things that serve the best interests of the collective. Indeed, by cooperating rather than competing, they can achieve much. They thus provide a shining example to follow, enlightening us to aspects of connectedness that right now we can hardly begin to fathom and thus encouraging our evolution as a species. However, it’s not realistic to assume they can teach us much of anything if we treat them unnaturally, subjecting them to harsh conditions for the sake of performing circus tricks.
Former SeaWorld trainers (from left) Samantha Berg, Dean Gomersall, Carol Ray and Jeffrey Ventre admire the majesty of killer whales in the wild in the new documentary, “Blackfish.” Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.
“Blackfish” is a powerful documentary, technically brilliant and emotionally stirring. Its superb combination of whale footage, interviews with former trainers and marine experts, and media report segments is well packaged, skillfully edited, taut and to the point, without filler or padding. Its full disclosure of SeaWorld’s unwillingness to respond on-camera to the contentions raised in the picture lends credibility to the integrity of the reporting, too, demonstrating the filmmakers’ sincere desire for journalistic fairness, an effort that’s truly to be commended. Keep your eye on this film come awards season, as it stands a good chance to capture some well-deserved feature documentary honors.
Sometimes it takes “a dumb animal” to teach us some of our most valuable lessons, but, as “Blackfish” reveals, killer whales are anything but dense. In fact, they have the potential to show us much about ourselves, as well as who we’re capable of becoming. And, since conscious creators know that we’re all in a constant state of becoming, it truly helps to have mentors to help show us the way in that regard. “Blackfish” makes us aware of who some of those teachers are; now, if only we’ll let loose the shackles that bind them – and let them do their jobs.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Every year, thousands of tourists flock to marine theme parks around the globe to see performances featuring large sea mammals like bottlenose dolphins and, especially, killer whales. Facilities like the SeaWorld parks feature heavily promoted, high-profile orca shows that generate billions of dollars annually from sales of tickets, stuffed animals and other souvenirs. But those prolific profits come at a high cost, as the new documentary, “Blackfish,” articulately illustrates.
So what, exactly, are the costs involved? As the film clearly shows, it involves more than just money.
Tilikum, a male killer whale linked to the death of SeaWorld Orlando trainer Dawn Brancheau in February 2010, performs for the crowds in the riveting new documentary, “Blackfish.” Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.
According to the experts interviewed for this picture, virtually all of the marine mammals in captivity are psychologically damaged in one way or another. This is especially true for killer whales, creatures who are known for being intelligent, highly social beings who live long lives in well-developed family groups in the wild. When held in captivity, however, they’re subjected to highly unnatural conditions for their species, generally confined to spaces far smaller than what they’re typically accustomed to and living out their days with whales who are seldom part of their native pods. But, if that weren’t bad enough, the offspring who are born in captivity are often taken away from their parents and transferred to other theme parks to meet marketplace demands, creating serious separation anxiety that exacerbates whatever other psychological ills these creatures may already be experiencing. (Think of what it might be like if your adoring two-year-old were suddenly snatched away from your loving arms and given to another parent in “need” of a child, and you get an idea what the whales go through, an emotional tragedy painfully depicted in the film.)
A pod of orcas swimming in the wild reveals the majestic beauty of these noble creatures, as shown in the powerful new documentary, “Blackfish.” Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.
Despite the parks’ claims that these creatures are better off in captivity than they are in the wild, the experts contend the exact opposite is true. They argue that captive orcas suffer from more health problems, social conflicts and behavioral issues than their wild counterparts, ultimately living much shorter and more stress-filled lives than they would in the open ocean. As one interview subject succinctly puts it, wouldn’t each of us go a little crazy if we were forced to spend 25 years in a bathtub?
But the whales aren’t the only victims in this scenario; the trainers who work with these animals are in potential peril as well. This became tragically apparent on February 24, 2010, when SeaWorld Orlando trainer Dawn Brancheau was killed in an incident involving a whale named Tilikum, a male orca with a history of unpredictable behavior and who was linked to other incidents that were quietly kept under wraps. What’s more, Tilikum’s unfortunate exploits are not isolated occurrences, either; other captive whales (some of whose genetic makeup includes Tilikum’s DNA) have been implicated in other incidents of violence against humans, something that has never been known to occur among orcas in the wild. Indeed, the fact that Tilikum’s DNA is in the genes of many orcas bred in captivity around the globe should give trainers worldwide cause for legitimate concern.
Knowing all this, then, one can’t help but ask how we can possibly sanction such activities in all good conscience. Isn’t such treatment unduly cruel, if not downright barbaric? And how would we feel if the roles were reversed? Wouldn’t we be pleading for our liberation as well? Moreover, is the pursuit of profit worth placing the lives of park staff members in perpetual jeopardy thanks to the whales’ erratic behavior? “Blackfish” addresses all of these questions, and it does so with unflinching candor.
SeaWorld Orlando killer whale Tilikum lives a life in captivity far different from his wild counterparts, as depicted in director Gabriela Cowperthwaite’s powerful new documentary, “Blackfish.” Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.
The film also says a lot metaphysically, at least by implication. As conscious creation practitioners are well aware, we each create our own realities through the power of our beliefs working in conjunction with the power of the Universe. Yet, despite the outcomes that arise from our individual efforts, we also work collectively to manifest co-created mass events, thanks to the intrinsic connectedness that binds everything in the Universe.
So how do these notions relate to the plight of captive killer whales? Our materialization of popular marine parks like those showcased in the film is an example of a mass event that’s designed, arguably, to draw our attention to (and thereby make us aware of) how we treat the other creatures who are part of our collective connected existence. At its heart, a co-creation such as this provides us with a much-needed lesson about ourselves. It essentially holds up a mirror that allows us to see ourselves in a light that we might not readily recognize otherwise. It prompts us to look at our nature, our beliefs and our behavior, some of which may be in serious need of significant re-examination. It forces us to ask ourselves questions like, knowing what we do, how can we allow this to go on? Are we really honoring our fellow earth creatures by keeping them captive and compelling them to perform inane stunts just to get fed? At bottom, are we really so superficial, self-centered and uncaring that we’ll go to such lengths for the sake of mere entertainment value?
Ideally, most of us would probably like to think we should be readily aware of the answers to such questions. But, if we’re indeed so oblivious about our actions that we can’t see the errors of our ways, then maybe we need to materialize creations like this – disturbing though they may be – to make the answers painfully obvious. Pointing out the folly of our ways, one would hope, would help to keep us from repeating them. What’s more, experiences like this should also help to enlighten us about the sacrifices the whales are making to further our maturation and education. By becoming aware of all this, we might be more likely to treat not only whales but all of our fellow earth dwellers more humanely (just imagine what a reality embodying that principle might be like!).
Whales are appropriate teachers for this, too. As pointed out in the film, their brains appear to be more developed than our own, suggesting that they may well possess an intelligence that exceeds ours, one that naturally, even matter-of-factly, recognizes the collective consciousness that binds all the members of their species. Such a heightened awareness enables them to act in concert with one another when the need arises, actions that are demonstrated repeatedly throughout the film, especially among orcas in the wild who are part of their native pods. This natural sense of collaboration allows them to accomplish things that serve the best interests of the collective. Indeed, by cooperating rather than competing, they can achieve much. They thus provide a shining example to follow, enlightening us to aspects of connectedness that right now we can hardly begin to fathom and thus encouraging our evolution as a species. However, it’s not realistic to assume they can teach us much of anything if we treat them unnaturally, subjecting them to harsh conditions for the sake of performing circus tricks.
Former SeaWorld trainers (from left) Samantha Berg, Dean Gomersall, Carol Ray and Jeffrey Ventre admire the majesty of killer whales in the wild in the new documentary, “Blackfish.” Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.
“Blackfish” is a powerful documentary, technically brilliant and emotionally stirring. Its superb combination of whale footage, interviews with former trainers and marine experts, and media report segments is well packaged, skillfully edited, taut and to the point, without filler or padding. Its full disclosure of SeaWorld’s unwillingness to respond on-camera to the contentions raised in the picture lends credibility to the integrity of the reporting, too, demonstrating the filmmakers’ sincere desire for journalistic fairness, an effort that’s truly to be commended. Keep your eye on this film come awards season, as it stands a good chance to capture some well-deserved feature documentary honors.
Sometimes it takes “a dumb animal” to teach us some of our most valuable lessons, but, as “Blackfish” reveals, killer whales are anything but dense. In fact, they have the potential to show us much about ourselves, as well as who we’re capable of becoming. And, since conscious creators know that we’re all in a constant state of becoming, it truly helps to have mentors to help show us the way in that regard. “Blackfish” makes us aware of who some of those teachers are; now, if only we’ll let loose the shackles that bind them – and let them do their jobs.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Sunday, August 4, 2013
‘Blue Jasmine’ proves ignorance isn’t bliss
“Blue Jasmine” (2013). Cast: Cate Blanchett, Alec Baldwin, Sally Hawkins, Andrew Dice Clay, Bobby Cannavale, Peter Sarsgaard, Louis C.K., Michael Stuhlbarg, Max Casella, Alden Ehrenreich, Charlie Tahan, Kathy Tong, Ali Fedotowsky, Emily Hsu, Tammy Blanchard, Annie McNamara, Sharon Finn, Daniel Jenks, Max Rutherford. Director: Woody Allen. Screenplay: Woody Allen. Web site. Trailer.
Being willing to face the truth of our lives can be a difficult and painful lesson at times. Under such circumstances, it may be tempting to look away in hopes that the difficulties will somehow just evaporate. But such wishful thinking seldom pans out as hoped for, leaving us with problems that are even larger to contend with, as becomes all too apparent in the new Woody Allen comedy-drama, “Blue Jasmine.”
Fifth Avenue socialite Jasmine (Cate Blanchett) has taken a very hard fall. Having once been married to Hal (Alec Baldwin), one of New York’s most successful financial wizards, she experiences quite a come-down when he’s indicted and convicted on a range of illegal activities. Her implicit trust in her crooked husband leaves her financially destitute. But, if that weren’t bad enough, she also learns that he’s been cheating on her for years with one of her best friends (Kathy Tong), their personal trainer (Ali Fedotowsky) and his lawyer (Emily Hsu). So, in addition to being fiscally broke, she’s emotionally ravaged, her outwardly cheerful façade shakily propped up by a combination of antidepressants, alcohol, therapy and, most of all, unbridled denial. One can’t help but wonder how she goes on.
After a hard fall, Jasmine (Cate Blanchett) seeks to put her life back together in writer-director Woody Allen’s latest offering, “Blue Jasmine.” Photo by Merrick Morton © 2013 Gravier Productions, courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.
Faced with few options for getting by, Jasmine moves to San Francisco to live with her sister, Ginger (Sally Hawkins). Ginger’s considerably more modest life-style is quite a shock to someone accustomed to the finest things in life being served up on demand, but Jasmine is nevertheless forced to adjust. In conversations between the sisters, it becomes apparent that Jasmine let her circumstances happen to her, having turned a blind eye to all of Hal’s indiscretions, but such behavior has now left her ill-equipped to handle even the most basic challenges and responsibilities of everyday life. Through a series of flashbacks, viewers witness Jasmine’s gradual fall from grace, most notably how she essentially painted herself into her own corner.
Meanwhile, Jasmine seeks to get on with her life. She takes a job as a receptionist in the office of a leering dentist (Michael Stuhlbarg) and attempts to study interior design online. She also seeks to smooth over her sometimes-contentious relationship with Ginger, though past strains – such as the dissolution of Ginger’s marriage to Augie (Andrew Dice Clay) after Hal embezzled the couple’s money – still linger and color the sisters’ current connection. In addition, Jasmine struggles to get along with Ginger’s new beau, Chili (Bobby Cannavale), who sees Jasmine for the irresponsible phony she often is, circumstances that produce considerable tension in the couple’s budding relationship and even prompt Ginger to pursue a fling with a competing admirer, Al (Louis C.K.).
In happier times, New York socialite Jasmine (Cate Blanchett, left) enjoys life at her summer house with husband Hal (Alec Baldwin, right) in the melancholy comedy, “Blue Jasmine.” Photo by Jessica Miglio © 2013 Gravier Productions, courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.
After long being stuck in a rut, Jasmine finally appears to catch a break when she attends a party and meets Dwight (Peter Sarsgaard), a career diplomat seeking to break into politics. The prospect of a romance with this would-be suitor holds much promise for both parties; Dwight would get the ideal politician’s wife, and Jasmine would be able to return to the opulent life-style to which she’s accustomed. The question is, will she take advantage of the opportunity, or will she sabotage herself as she did once before? Ultimately it’s all up to Jasmine – and what she decides to do with her life.
Anyone versed in conscious creation can spot Jasmine’s mistake at the drop of a hat – she’s mired in the practice of creation by default, letting life happen to her without making any effort to take charge of it. She willingly abrogates her responsibility for virtually everything in the belief that Hal will take care of her needs, no matter what. She openly admits to knowing nothing about his dealings or how to handle herself financially, as if she couldn’t be bothered with such trivial matters. She’s also the only one in their circle of friends who’s oblivious to her husband’s unabashed philandering. Such blissful ignorance may make her life “easier” initially, but this attitude comes back to bite her in the posterior in a very big way once all of Hal’s secrets are revealed.
A happily married couple, Ginger (Sally Hawkins, left) and Augie (Andrew Dice Clay, right), gets blindsided by the hardships of financial ruin in “Blue Jasmine.” Photo by Jessica Miglio © 2013 Gravier Productions, courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.
What’s worse is that, despite being a college dropout, Jasmine is by no means stupid; she clearly possesses the intelligence to see what’s going on if only she’ll allow herself to do so. Indeed, on an intuitive level, she truly seems to know better, yet she willfully chooses to look the other way, a choice that makes her eventual decline that much more painful to endure. This failing not only leaves her unprepared for dealing with the specific circumstances that arise in her life, but it also leaves her without the fundamental skill of how to create (or correct) her reality. She’s metaphysically helpless, having to fend for herself without even the most basic ability to figure out how to shape her destiny. And, unfortunately, these conditions set the pattern she’ll face as she attempts to move forward, circumstances that will continue until such time as she chooses to take the necessary steps to wake up and take control of her life.
Unfortunately, this approach to life does little to serve her. Jasmine generally follows the path of least resistance, selecting whichever option seems most convenient and expedient at the moment. This attitude makes it very easy for her to put on airs, to feign knowledge of certain subjects or even to lie if it gets her what she wants – that is, as long as others don’t see through her ruses, something that proves to be a major source of conflict in her dealings with Chili, for instance. And, when the reality of being found out comes home to roost, it may prove to be more than she can handle. Clearly, ignorance isn’t as blissful as it might seem at first glance.
With the arrival of an overbearing house guest, Ginger (Sally Hawkins, left) struggles to hold together her relationship with her new beau, Chili (Bobby Cannavale, right), in Woody Allen’s “Blue Jasmine.” Photo by Merrick Morton © 2013 Gravier Productions, courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.
Like “Midnight in Paris” (2011), “Blue Jasmine” is one of writer-director Woody Allen’s better efforts in recent years. It features an awards-worthy performance by Blanchett, who skillfully captures the many sides of a complex character and makes it look effortless. The supporting cast backs up their leading lady well, especially Hawkins, Clay, Baldwin and Cannavale, all of whom turn in fine efforts in their respective roles. The writing, though not as crisp as when Allen was at the peak of his career, is nonetheless generally solid, serving up ample laughs along with a healthy dose of wistful melancholy.
Perhaps my only major complaint with this film has nothing to do with the picture itself but, rather, with the trailer being used to market it. Like many other films in recent years, the trailer is somewhat misleading, portraying the picture as more of a comedy than it really is. To be sure, “Blue Jasmine” has more than its share of laughs, but it also has a more serious side that the trailer fails to bring out. Depression and mental health issues are subjects that are no laughing matter, and, while the film handles them sensitively, its trailer glibly glosses over them. While I realize the purpose of a trailer is to get viewers into theaters, this marketing tactic doesn’t serve potential viewers well when it neglects an integral aspect of the picture, as is very much the case here.
Living life in oblivion is a potentially treacherous prospect, no matter how seemingly benign the practice might initially appear. “Blue Jasmine” makes that point abundantly clear, providing viewers with a cautionary tale about how we view and subsequently create our reality and what happens when we eschew knowledge of that ability. Anyone tempted to look the other way – especially when he or she obviously knows better – would be wise to screen this film to avoid the consequences that come from conscious denial, as well as to discover just what made Jasmine so blue.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Being willing to face the truth of our lives can be a difficult and painful lesson at times. Under such circumstances, it may be tempting to look away in hopes that the difficulties will somehow just evaporate. But such wishful thinking seldom pans out as hoped for, leaving us with problems that are even larger to contend with, as becomes all too apparent in the new Woody Allen comedy-drama, “Blue Jasmine.”
Fifth Avenue socialite Jasmine (Cate Blanchett) has taken a very hard fall. Having once been married to Hal (Alec Baldwin), one of New York’s most successful financial wizards, she experiences quite a come-down when he’s indicted and convicted on a range of illegal activities. Her implicit trust in her crooked husband leaves her financially destitute. But, if that weren’t bad enough, she also learns that he’s been cheating on her for years with one of her best friends (Kathy Tong), their personal trainer (Ali Fedotowsky) and his lawyer (Emily Hsu). So, in addition to being fiscally broke, she’s emotionally ravaged, her outwardly cheerful façade shakily propped up by a combination of antidepressants, alcohol, therapy and, most of all, unbridled denial. One can’t help but wonder how she goes on.
After a hard fall, Jasmine (Cate Blanchett) seeks to put her life back together in writer-director Woody Allen’s latest offering, “Blue Jasmine.” Photo by Merrick Morton © 2013 Gravier Productions, courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.
Faced with few options for getting by, Jasmine moves to San Francisco to live with her sister, Ginger (Sally Hawkins). Ginger’s considerably more modest life-style is quite a shock to someone accustomed to the finest things in life being served up on demand, but Jasmine is nevertheless forced to adjust. In conversations between the sisters, it becomes apparent that Jasmine let her circumstances happen to her, having turned a blind eye to all of Hal’s indiscretions, but such behavior has now left her ill-equipped to handle even the most basic challenges and responsibilities of everyday life. Through a series of flashbacks, viewers witness Jasmine’s gradual fall from grace, most notably how she essentially painted herself into her own corner.
Meanwhile, Jasmine seeks to get on with her life. She takes a job as a receptionist in the office of a leering dentist (Michael Stuhlbarg) and attempts to study interior design online. She also seeks to smooth over her sometimes-contentious relationship with Ginger, though past strains – such as the dissolution of Ginger’s marriage to Augie (Andrew Dice Clay) after Hal embezzled the couple’s money – still linger and color the sisters’ current connection. In addition, Jasmine struggles to get along with Ginger’s new beau, Chili (Bobby Cannavale), who sees Jasmine for the irresponsible phony she often is, circumstances that produce considerable tension in the couple’s budding relationship and even prompt Ginger to pursue a fling with a competing admirer, Al (Louis C.K.).
In happier times, New York socialite Jasmine (Cate Blanchett, left) enjoys life at her summer house with husband Hal (Alec Baldwin, right) in the melancholy comedy, “Blue Jasmine.” Photo by Jessica Miglio © 2013 Gravier Productions, courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.
After long being stuck in a rut, Jasmine finally appears to catch a break when she attends a party and meets Dwight (Peter Sarsgaard), a career diplomat seeking to break into politics. The prospect of a romance with this would-be suitor holds much promise for both parties; Dwight would get the ideal politician’s wife, and Jasmine would be able to return to the opulent life-style to which she’s accustomed. The question is, will she take advantage of the opportunity, or will she sabotage herself as she did once before? Ultimately it’s all up to Jasmine – and what she decides to do with her life.
Anyone versed in conscious creation can spot Jasmine’s mistake at the drop of a hat – she’s mired in the practice of creation by default, letting life happen to her without making any effort to take charge of it. She willingly abrogates her responsibility for virtually everything in the belief that Hal will take care of her needs, no matter what. She openly admits to knowing nothing about his dealings or how to handle herself financially, as if she couldn’t be bothered with such trivial matters. She’s also the only one in their circle of friends who’s oblivious to her husband’s unabashed philandering. Such blissful ignorance may make her life “easier” initially, but this attitude comes back to bite her in the posterior in a very big way once all of Hal’s secrets are revealed.
A happily married couple, Ginger (Sally Hawkins, left) and Augie (Andrew Dice Clay, right), gets blindsided by the hardships of financial ruin in “Blue Jasmine.” Photo by Jessica Miglio © 2013 Gravier Productions, courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.
What’s worse is that, despite being a college dropout, Jasmine is by no means stupid; she clearly possesses the intelligence to see what’s going on if only she’ll allow herself to do so. Indeed, on an intuitive level, she truly seems to know better, yet she willfully chooses to look the other way, a choice that makes her eventual decline that much more painful to endure. This failing not only leaves her unprepared for dealing with the specific circumstances that arise in her life, but it also leaves her without the fundamental skill of how to create (or correct) her reality. She’s metaphysically helpless, having to fend for herself without even the most basic ability to figure out how to shape her destiny. And, unfortunately, these conditions set the pattern she’ll face as she attempts to move forward, circumstances that will continue until such time as she chooses to take the necessary steps to wake up and take control of her life.
Unfortunately, this approach to life does little to serve her. Jasmine generally follows the path of least resistance, selecting whichever option seems most convenient and expedient at the moment. This attitude makes it very easy for her to put on airs, to feign knowledge of certain subjects or even to lie if it gets her what she wants – that is, as long as others don’t see through her ruses, something that proves to be a major source of conflict in her dealings with Chili, for instance. And, when the reality of being found out comes home to roost, it may prove to be more than she can handle. Clearly, ignorance isn’t as blissful as it might seem at first glance.
With the arrival of an overbearing house guest, Ginger (Sally Hawkins, left) struggles to hold together her relationship with her new beau, Chili (Bobby Cannavale, right), in Woody Allen’s “Blue Jasmine.” Photo by Merrick Morton © 2013 Gravier Productions, courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.
Like “Midnight in Paris” (2011), “Blue Jasmine” is one of writer-director Woody Allen’s better efforts in recent years. It features an awards-worthy performance by Blanchett, who skillfully captures the many sides of a complex character and makes it look effortless. The supporting cast backs up their leading lady well, especially Hawkins, Clay, Baldwin and Cannavale, all of whom turn in fine efforts in their respective roles. The writing, though not as crisp as when Allen was at the peak of his career, is nonetheless generally solid, serving up ample laughs along with a healthy dose of wistful melancholy.
Perhaps my only major complaint with this film has nothing to do with the picture itself but, rather, with the trailer being used to market it. Like many other films in recent years, the trailer is somewhat misleading, portraying the picture as more of a comedy than it really is. To be sure, “Blue Jasmine” has more than its share of laughs, but it also has a more serious side that the trailer fails to bring out. Depression and mental health issues are subjects that are no laughing matter, and, while the film handles them sensitively, its trailer glibly glosses over them. While I realize the purpose of a trailer is to get viewers into theaters, this marketing tactic doesn’t serve potential viewers well when it neglects an integral aspect of the picture, as is very much the case here.
Living life in oblivion is a potentially treacherous prospect, no matter how seemingly benign the practice might initially appear. “Blue Jasmine” makes that point abundantly clear, providing viewers with a cautionary tale about how we view and subsequently create our reality and what happens when we eschew knowledge of that ability. Anyone tempted to look the other way – especially when he or she obviously knows better – would be wise to screen this film to avoid the consequences that come from conscious denial, as well as to discover just what made Jasmine so blue.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
‘20 Feet From Stardom’ chronicles the path to the limelight
“20 Feet From Stardom” (2013). Cast: Darlene Love, Merry Clayton, Lisa Fischer, Judith Hill, Bruce Springsteen, Mick Jagger, Stevie Wonder, Sting, Bette Midler, Sheryl Crow, Lou Adler, Dr. Mabel John, Claudia Lennear, Táta Vega, Lynn Mabry, Jo Lowry, Stevvi Alexander, Patti Austin, Janice Pendarvis, Chris Botti, Bill Maxwell. Archive Footage: David Bowie, Ray Charles, Luther Vandross, Ike and Tina Turner Review, Talking Heads, George Harrison, Michael Jackson, Phil Spector. Director: Morgan Neville. Web site. Trailer.
Stepping to the front of the line in any field of endeavor is often a challenging task for anyone seeking to get ahead. The path is riddled with obstacles and calls for hard work, and success is far from guaranteed. Such is the lot of those who ardently seek to rise to the top in the engaging new documentary, “20 Feet From Stardom.”
Backup singers occupy a unique position in the music world. They’re easily overlooked, but they’d definitely be missed if they were absent. In musical arrangements, they provide “completion” to the pieces in which their voices appear. In concert appearances, they’re an integral part in the performance landscape, contributing both visually and harmonically. And, in studio recordings, their input often helps make songs memorable. Indeed, where would we be without them? “20 Feet From Stardom” spotlights the role they play, making their significance apparent for all to see.
The film chronicles the history of backup singers from their gospel music roots to their early studio performance days to their rich and diverse present. It then goes on to focus on the lives and careers of a number of supporting performers, including Darlene Love, Merry Clayton, Claudia Lennear, Lisa Fischer and Judith Hill. In doing so, the documentary examines the trials and tribulations of performing in the background and of attempting to make that physically short but metaphorically long walk to the front of the stage. It’s a journey that results in success for some and disappointment for others, and the outcomes are often based on factors other than talent, as noted in interviews with the would-be stars and with such recording industry luminaries as Bruce Springsteen, Mick Jagger, Stevie Wonder, Sting, Bette Midler, Sheryl Crow and legendary producer Lou Adler.
So why does success come to some and not to others? As in anything we undertake as conscious creators, the results depend on the beliefs – all of the beliefs – we hold going into the process. Becoming successful in any of the arts, for instance, requires the implementation of a combination of beliefs to make the viability of such a pursuit possible. For a backup singer seeking to step out of the shadows and become a lead artist, for example, it takes more than beliefs that support one’s talent; it also calls for beliefs associated with such other elements as successful self-promotion, ambition, charisma, stage presence, effective collaboration with fellow professionals and creating the right opportunities, to name a few. If any of those belief components is missing, the results one attains will surely reflect their noticeable absence.
For instance, for backup singer Claudia Lennear, who successfully managed to move up through the ranks and earn a solo recording contract, fame proved elusive, even though she was recognized throughout the industry as an outstanding talent; despite having seemingly “made it,” she inexplicably never realized the success she so earnestly sought. Likewise, for Judith Hill, success appeared to be right around the corner when she landed a gig as a backup singer with Michael Jackson, who was a major backer of her emerging career; unfortunately, that opportunity evaporated with the King of Pop’s unexpected and untimely death.
It’s hard to say exactly why these singers’ careers didn’t pan out as hoped for, but, from a metaphysical standpoint, it likely has something to do with elements missing from their belief mix, frustrating though that may be. Indeed, as Pastor Dr. Mabel John, a former backup singer for Ray Charles, observes in the film, becoming a success requires more than just having the gift of a great voice; it depends on what one does with that gift in bringing it forth to the attention of the world, and that’s where the promulgation of those essential associated beliefs comes in.
But is seeking success as a lead artist the only option to which a backup singer should aspire? Not necessarily, and some of the alternative probabilities to that goal are examined in the film. Lisa Fischer, for example, had a long and illustrious career as a backup singer for artists like the Rolling Stones, Tina Turner and Luther Vandross. Her mesmerizing vocals even earned her a solo artist contract and a coveted Grammy Award with the release of her first album. After that, however, her solo career mysteriously fizzled. One might wonder, as she did, why. But, as Fischer herself notes in the film, she came to discover over the years that she’s happiest when she’s just singing for its own sake; the art itself is its own reward, and that’s enough for her. Continuing to perform in the background may not produce the same notoriety as being out front, but, then, sometimes playing a valued supporting role – and forming the beliefs that make that aspiration possible – may be enough, especially if it’s just what one wants to begin with.
Backup singers who truly enjoy the role they play are obviously well acquainted with the concept of successful co-creation, the realization of magical manifestations that arise from the process of collective materialization. Such collaborations are a beauty to behold and a joy to participate in. Many backups are genuinely content to contribute in this way, and they have built successful careers doing just that. They provide a great example to show us what’s creatively possible when we embrace the qualities of – and beliefs associated with – cooperation and connection.
Still, there are those for whom being out front is the ultimate goal, and they’re determined to get there one way or another. Just ask Darlene Love. As someone who began singing backup in her teens, she finally managed to attain success as a lead artist at age 40. Her 30-year solo career since then has brought her widespread acclaim, including induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. In getting there, however, she had to overcome many challenges, such as having her work relabeled as the recordings of other artists and wrestling with capricious producers who held her back. Her beliefs related to persistence and determination got her through those tough times and allowed her to eventually shine. And her experience serves as an inspiration for anyone seeking to become a genuine success at what they truly love.
“20 Feet From Stardom” is a real gem of a film, one that’s sure to receive serious consideration as the year’s best feature documentary. Its on-camera interviews are sharply insightful and to the point, successfully avoiding the pitfalls of padding or irrelevancy that often hamper many documentary efforts. It successfully draws attention to its metaphysical aspects without hammering home its points in the process, not an easy feat but one that’s handled here with tremendous skill, especially in the film’s editing. And the wealth of performance and archival footage makes for great viewing. Seeing the history of pop music play out from this truly unique perspective is something really worth watching.
Finding our place in the world is an odyssey of discovery for all of us. What we find we want may not always be what we thought we wanted, too. But, as in any undertaking, it’s the journey and not the destination that makes the trip worthwhile. As long as we create with sincerity, the outcome we realize should prove eminently fulfilling, no matter what role we end up playing.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Stepping to the front of the line in any field of endeavor is often a challenging task for anyone seeking to get ahead. The path is riddled with obstacles and calls for hard work, and success is far from guaranteed. Such is the lot of those who ardently seek to rise to the top in the engaging new documentary, “20 Feet From Stardom.”
Backup singers occupy a unique position in the music world. They’re easily overlooked, but they’d definitely be missed if they were absent. In musical arrangements, they provide “completion” to the pieces in which their voices appear. In concert appearances, they’re an integral part in the performance landscape, contributing both visually and harmonically. And, in studio recordings, their input often helps make songs memorable. Indeed, where would we be without them? “20 Feet From Stardom” spotlights the role they play, making their significance apparent for all to see.
The film chronicles the history of backup singers from their gospel music roots to their early studio performance days to their rich and diverse present. It then goes on to focus on the lives and careers of a number of supporting performers, including Darlene Love, Merry Clayton, Claudia Lennear, Lisa Fischer and Judith Hill. In doing so, the documentary examines the trials and tribulations of performing in the background and of attempting to make that physically short but metaphorically long walk to the front of the stage. It’s a journey that results in success for some and disappointment for others, and the outcomes are often based on factors other than talent, as noted in interviews with the would-be stars and with such recording industry luminaries as Bruce Springsteen, Mick Jagger, Stevie Wonder, Sting, Bette Midler, Sheryl Crow and legendary producer Lou Adler.
So why does success come to some and not to others? As in anything we undertake as conscious creators, the results depend on the beliefs – all of the beliefs – we hold going into the process. Becoming successful in any of the arts, for instance, requires the implementation of a combination of beliefs to make the viability of such a pursuit possible. For a backup singer seeking to step out of the shadows and become a lead artist, for example, it takes more than beliefs that support one’s talent; it also calls for beliefs associated with such other elements as successful self-promotion, ambition, charisma, stage presence, effective collaboration with fellow professionals and creating the right opportunities, to name a few. If any of those belief components is missing, the results one attains will surely reflect their noticeable absence.
For instance, for backup singer Claudia Lennear, who successfully managed to move up through the ranks and earn a solo recording contract, fame proved elusive, even though she was recognized throughout the industry as an outstanding talent; despite having seemingly “made it,” she inexplicably never realized the success she so earnestly sought. Likewise, for Judith Hill, success appeared to be right around the corner when she landed a gig as a backup singer with Michael Jackson, who was a major backer of her emerging career; unfortunately, that opportunity evaporated with the King of Pop’s unexpected and untimely death.
It’s hard to say exactly why these singers’ careers didn’t pan out as hoped for, but, from a metaphysical standpoint, it likely has something to do with elements missing from their belief mix, frustrating though that may be. Indeed, as Pastor Dr. Mabel John, a former backup singer for Ray Charles, observes in the film, becoming a success requires more than just having the gift of a great voice; it depends on what one does with that gift in bringing it forth to the attention of the world, and that’s where the promulgation of those essential associated beliefs comes in.
But is seeking success as a lead artist the only option to which a backup singer should aspire? Not necessarily, and some of the alternative probabilities to that goal are examined in the film. Lisa Fischer, for example, had a long and illustrious career as a backup singer for artists like the Rolling Stones, Tina Turner and Luther Vandross. Her mesmerizing vocals even earned her a solo artist contract and a coveted Grammy Award with the release of her first album. After that, however, her solo career mysteriously fizzled. One might wonder, as she did, why. But, as Fischer herself notes in the film, she came to discover over the years that she’s happiest when she’s just singing for its own sake; the art itself is its own reward, and that’s enough for her. Continuing to perform in the background may not produce the same notoriety as being out front, but, then, sometimes playing a valued supporting role – and forming the beliefs that make that aspiration possible – may be enough, especially if it’s just what one wants to begin with.
Backup singers who truly enjoy the role they play are obviously well acquainted with the concept of successful co-creation, the realization of magical manifestations that arise from the process of collective materialization. Such collaborations are a beauty to behold and a joy to participate in. Many backups are genuinely content to contribute in this way, and they have built successful careers doing just that. They provide a great example to show us what’s creatively possible when we embrace the qualities of – and beliefs associated with – cooperation and connection.
Still, there are those for whom being out front is the ultimate goal, and they’re determined to get there one way or another. Just ask Darlene Love. As someone who began singing backup in her teens, she finally managed to attain success as a lead artist at age 40. Her 30-year solo career since then has brought her widespread acclaim, including induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. In getting there, however, she had to overcome many challenges, such as having her work relabeled as the recordings of other artists and wrestling with capricious producers who held her back. Her beliefs related to persistence and determination got her through those tough times and allowed her to eventually shine. And her experience serves as an inspiration for anyone seeking to become a genuine success at what they truly love.
“20 Feet From Stardom” is a real gem of a film, one that’s sure to receive serious consideration as the year’s best feature documentary. Its on-camera interviews are sharply insightful and to the point, successfully avoiding the pitfalls of padding or irrelevancy that often hamper many documentary efforts. It successfully draws attention to its metaphysical aspects without hammering home its points in the process, not an easy feat but one that’s handled here with tremendous skill, especially in the film’s editing. And the wealth of performance and archival footage makes for great viewing. Seeing the history of pop music play out from this truly unique perspective is something really worth watching.
Finding our place in the world is an odyssey of discovery for all of us. What we find we want may not always be what we thought we wanted, too. But, as in any undertaking, it’s the journey and not the destination that makes the trip worthwhile. As long as we create with sincerity, the outcome we realize should prove eminently fulfilling, no matter what role we end up playing.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
‘Way, Way Back’ offers a roadmap for those difficult years
“The Way, Way Back” (2013). Cast: Steve Carell, Toni Collette, Liam James, Allison Janney, Sam Rockwell, Maya Rudolph, Amanda Peet, Rob Corddry, Nat Faxon, Jim Rash, Zoe Levin, AnnaSophia Robb, River Alexander, Jake Picking, Jeffrey Ryan, Adam Riegler, Jeremy Weaver, Robert Banfield Capron. Directors: Nat Faxon and Jim Rash. Screenplay: Nat Faxon and Jim Rash. Web site. Trailer.
Growing up is hard to do. The harder we try to fit in, the more awkward we often feel. But, at some point, things start to click. We find our legs or our voice, and life starts to make sense. The more we understand about this – especially the role that we play in shaping how events pan out – the better off we’ll be. This is particularly crucial for those who feel like they’re under the thumb of others who would intentionally or unwittingly hold them back, circumstances not unlike those depicted in the hilarious new summertime comedy, “The Way, Way Back.”
Fourteen-year-old Duncan (Liam James) dreads his upcoming summer vacation in the hilarious new comedy, “The Way, Way Back.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
Spending the summer at the seashore may seem like a dream come true for many youngsters, but not for 14-year-old Duncan (Liam James). The prospect of vacationing with his divorced mother, Pam (Toni Collette), her overbearing boyfriend, Trent (Steve Carell), and his self-absorbed daughter, Steph (Zoe Levin), at Trent’s family beach house fills Duncan with dread. Besides there being little to do and no one his own age to hang with, Duncan has to contend with Trent’s unruly friends, Joan (Amanda Peet) and Kip (Rob Corddry), and his wacky, tactless neighbor, Betty (Allison Janney), all of whom epitomize the notion of “grown-ups behaving badly.” Pam tries to assuage her son’s feelings and smooth over his often-contentious relationship with Trent, but, if Duncan had it his way, he’d much rather be spending the summer with his father in San Diego.
To alleviate the tedium, Duncan goes exploring on his own. He ends up at the Water Wizz theme park, where he befriends Owen (Sam Rockwell), the park’s manager and resident cut-up, and his staff, Caitlin (Maya Rudolph), Roddy (Nat Faxon) and Lewis (Jim Rash). Owen takes the long-faced teen under his wing, showing him how to have fun and filling him with a sense of self-esteem, a quality frequently undercut by the adults in his life. He even offers Duncan a job, an opportunity he jumps at.
Spending the summer with mom (Toni Collette, second from right), her overbearing boyfriend (Steve Carell, far right) and his boorish friends (Rob Corddry, far left, and Amanda Peet, second from left) is not teenager Duncan’s (Liam James, center) idea of a fun vacation, as seen in the insightful seasonal comedy, “The Way, Way Back.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
Before long, Duncan actually starts to enjoy his summer. Besides making new friends at work, he begins spending time with Betty’s teenage daughter, Susanna (AnnaSophia Robb), who provides a nice diversion from the increasingly irresponsible and sometimes-hypocritical behavior of the adults at home. He even grows confident enough to call them on their bullshit, an empowering experience for him and an eye-opening revelation for everyone else. By vacation’s end, the once-confused teen finds personal clarity.
The coming of age story is a long-established film formula, and “The Way, Way Back” is the latest embodiment of it. In that respect, the movie’s premise isn’t particularly original, but, then again, it never hurts to have cinematic examples that effectively remind us of the personal empowerment themes that characterize this genre, especially as they apply to conscious creation matters.
Finding friendship while working at a water park helps 14-year-old Duncan (Liam James, second from right) cope with an otherwise-dreary summer vacation, thanks to the camaraderie of the park’s manager (Sam Rockwell, second from left) and his staff (Nat Faxon, far left, and Maya Rudolph, far right), in the delightful coming of age comedy, “The Way, Way Back.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
As obvious as it might seem, creating a reality that fulfills and satisfies us depends on doing so truthfully, with a clear sense of personal integrity. But such an undertaking may be difficult if we lack the requisite trust and belief in ourselves. As any conscious creator knows, beliefs are everything in making the process work, but a belief in oneself is perhaps the most crucial of all of the intents we draw upon in manifesting the existence we experience; without it, we’re essentially dead in the water (or, in Duncan’s case, in the wave pool).
Having sources of inspiration available to us is invaluable for generating the beliefs we need to build personal confidence and self-esteem, the elements that enable us to believe in ourselves. Thankfully, Duncan has access to such inspiration through the examples set by his Water Wizz colleagues and by Susanna. They help to imbue their friend with the attributes he needs to become himself. In fact, the examples they set enable him to become an example for others (such as the adults in his life) to follow.
In developing a sense of personal integrity, it’s critical that we follow the wisdom of our intuition, that inner voice that helps guide us in the beliefs we establish, the actions we take and the realities we materialize. Duncan learns this as he comes to believe in himself, faithfully following the inner guidance that steers him in the right direction. He gradually sheds the awkward, geeky attitude that characterizes him at the film’s outset, prompting changes that allow him to grow into the responsible, upstanding young man he ultimately becomes.
It’s ironic that Duncan evolves into a symbol of responsibility as the film progresses considering how often he’s initially criticized for even the smallest personality quirks or behavioral “transgressions” by the adults in his life, particularly Trent. They frequently blow Duncan’s actions completely out of proportion in demonstrable fits of exasperation, citing lofty platitudes to rationalize their comments. But, even though such criticisms are patently unjustified, is it any surprise that these incidents occur, especially in light of their own behavior? The irresponsible examples they set, which result from their actions (which Susanna characterizes as “spring break for adults”) and the beliefs that manifest them, are merely being reflected back to them through what they perceive as Duncan’s “reckless” behavior; he’s simply holding himself up as a mirror for them to use for assessing their own materializations, regardless of whether or not they acknowledge or approve of such actions or are willing to accept responsibility for them. Moreover, the changes in Duncan’s behavior eventually draw even more attention to their foibles, spotlighting just how immature and inconsiderate these grown-ups really can be.
The companionship of fellow teen Susanna (AnnaSophia Robb, left) helps angst-ridden Duncan (Liam James, right) get over his plight in “The Way, Way Back.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
This is not to suggest that Duncan becomes a joyless stick in the mud, either; far from it. However, he learns, through his interaction with Owen and the other adults in his life, how to distinguish between playfulness and recklessness. Owen is clearly a fun-loving guy who enjoys his life with a playful exuberance, but he’s always careful to avoid engaging in any behavior that would purposely harm others. The other adults, however, can’t say the same. Betty, for example, never hesitates to speak her mind in candidly colorful ways, but she sometimes fails to consider the impact her spontaneous utterances have on others. Likewise, Trent likes to play hard, but sometimes he fails to account for the pain his self-serving actions may inflict on even those closest to him. Duncan sees these distinctions and consequently develops beliefs for how he conducts himself that reflect this level of discernment. The grown-ups could learn a lot from him.
As noted earlier, the premise of “The Way, Way Back” may not be especially original, but what it lacks in originality it makes up for in skillful execution. This is one of the funniest, most articulate, most smartly written comedies I’ve seen in a long time, providing big laughs consistently throughout. It features an excellent cast, who flesh out their characters effectively, especially in the supporting ranks (give particularly high marks to Janney and to the many talented young actors in this picture). In fact, it’s regrettable that the film’s trailer really doesn’t do the movie justice; given the rave reviews and warm reception it has received thus far, this picture could be well on its way to becoming the sleeper hit of the summer, especially if word of mouth recommendations build a case for it as happened with such past surprise hits as “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” (2002) and “The Full Monty” (1997).
At some point in our adolescence, in the midst of what probably seemed like incessant confusion, we were all likely cryptically told by our elders that “someday you'll understand.” The fortunate among us were able to figure that out sooner rather than later, though others of us no doubt reached middle age without a whiff of any greater clarity. So the sooner (and more thoroughly) we come to understand ourselves (especially our beliefs), the better off we’ll be at creating our reality and manifesting a more fulfilling life. “The Way, Way Back” provides valuable clues on how to go about this, offering tips that, one would hope, teens (and late-blooming adults) can grasp and embrace to make their lives at least more tolerable, if not downright enjoyable.
Now how rad is that?
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Growing up is hard to do. The harder we try to fit in, the more awkward we often feel. But, at some point, things start to click. We find our legs or our voice, and life starts to make sense. The more we understand about this – especially the role that we play in shaping how events pan out – the better off we’ll be. This is particularly crucial for those who feel like they’re under the thumb of others who would intentionally or unwittingly hold them back, circumstances not unlike those depicted in the hilarious new summertime comedy, “The Way, Way Back.”
Fourteen-year-old Duncan (Liam James) dreads his upcoming summer vacation in the hilarious new comedy, “The Way, Way Back.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
Spending the summer at the seashore may seem like a dream come true for many youngsters, but not for 14-year-old Duncan (Liam James). The prospect of vacationing with his divorced mother, Pam (Toni Collette), her overbearing boyfriend, Trent (Steve Carell), and his self-absorbed daughter, Steph (Zoe Levin), at Trent’s family beach house fills Duncan with dread. Besides there being little to do and no one his own age to hang with, Duncan has to contend with Trent’s unruly friends, Joan (Amanda Peet) and Kip (Rob Corddry), and his wacky, tactless neighbor, Betty (Allison Janney), all of whom epitomize the notion of “grown-ups behaving badly.” Pam tries to assuage her son’s feelings and smooth over his often-contentious relationship with Trent, but, if Duncan had it his way, he’d much rather be spending the summer with his father in San Diego.
To alleviate the tedium, Duncan goes exploring on his own. He ends up at the Water Wizz theme park, where he befriends Owen (Sam Rockwell), the park’s manager and resident cut-up, and his staff, Caitlin (Maya Rudolph), Roddy (Nat Faxon) and Lewis (Jim Rash). Owen takes the long-faced teen under his wing, showing him how to have fun and filling him with a sense of self-esteem, a quality frequently undercut by the adults in his life. He even offers Duncan a job, an opportunity he jumps at.
Spending the summer with mom (Toni Collette, second from right), her overbearing boyfriend (Steve Carell, far right) and his boorish friends (Rob Corddry, far left, and Amanda Peet, second from left) is not teenager Duncan’s (Liam James, center) idea of a fun vacation, as seen in the insightful seasonal comedy, “The Way, Way Back.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
Before long, Duncan actually starts to enjoy his summer. Besides making new friends at work, he begins spending time with Betty’s teenage daughter, Susanna (AnnaSophia Robb), who provides a nice diversion from the increasingly irresponsible and sometimes-hypocritical behavior of the adults at home. He even grows confident enough to call them on their bullshit, an empowering experience for him and an eye-opening revelation for everyone else. By vacation’s end, the once-confused teen finds personal clarity.
The coming of age story is a long-established film formula, and “The Way, Way Back” is the latest embodiment of it. In that respect, the movie’s premise isn’t particularly original, but, then again, it never hurts to have cinematic examples that effectively remind us of the personal empowerment themes that characterize this genre, especially as they apply to conscious creation matters.
Finding friendship while working at a water park helps 14-year-old Duncan (Liam James, second from right) cope with an otherwise-dreary summer vacation, thanks to the camaraderie of the park’s manager (Sam Rockwell, second from left) and his staff (Nat Faxon, far left, and Maya Rudolph, far right), in the delightful coming of age comedy, “The Way, Way Back.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
As obvious as it might seem, creating a reality that fulfills and satisfies us depends on doing so truthfully, with a clear sense of personal integrity. But such an undertaking may be difficult if we lack the requisite trust and belief in ourselves. As any conscious creator knows, beliefs are everything in making the process work, but a belief in oneself is perhaps the most crucial of all of the intents we draw upon in manifesting the existence we experience; without it, we’re essentially dead in the water (or, in Duncan’s case, in the wave pool).
Having sources of inspiration available to us is invaluable for generating the beliefs we need to build personal confidence and self-esteem, the elements that enable us to believe in ourselves. Thankfully, Duncan has access to such inspiration through the examples set by his Water Wizz colleagues and by Susanna. They help to imbue their friend with the attributes he needs to become himself. In fact, the examples they set enable him to become an example for others (such as the adults in his life) to follow.
In developing a sense of personal integrity, it’s critical that we follow the wisdom of our intuition, that inner voice that helps guide us in the beliefs we establish, the actions we take and the realities we materialize. Duncan learns this as he comes to believe in himself, faithfully following the inner guidance that steers him in the right direction. He gradually sheds the awkward, geeky attitude that characterizes him at the film’s outset, prompting changes that allow him to grow into the responsible, upstanding young man he ultimately becomes.
It’s ironic that Duncan evolves into a symbol of responsibility as the film progresses considering how often he’s initially criticized for even the smallest personality quirks or behavioral “transgressions” by the adults in his life, particularly Trent. They frequently blow Duncan’s actions completely out of proportion in demonstrable fits of exasperation, citing lofty platitudes to rationalize their comments. But, even though such criticisms are patently unjustified, is it any surprise that these incidents occur, especially in light of their own behavior? The irresponsible examples they set, which result from their actions (which Susanna characterizes as “spring break for adults”) and the beliefs that manifest them, are merely being reflected back to them through what they perceive as Duncan’s “reckless” behavior; he’s simply holding himself up as a mirror for them to use for assessing their own materializations, regardless of whether or not they acknowledge or approve of such actions or are willing to accept responsibility for them. Moreover, the changes in Duncan’s behavior eventually draw even more attention to their foibles, spotlighting just how immature and inconsiderate these grown-ups really can be.
The companionship of fellow teen Susanna (AnnaSophia Robb, left) helps angst-ridden Duncan (Liam James, right) get over his plight in “The Way, Way Back.” Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
This is not to suggest that Duncan becomes a joyless stick in the mud, either; far from it. However, he learns, through his interaction with Owen and the other adults in his life, how to distinguish between playfulness and recklessness. Owen is clearly a fun-loving guy who enjoys his life with a playful exuberance, but he’s always careful to avoid engaging in any behavior that would purposely harm others. The other adults, however, can’t say the same. Betty, for example, never hesitates to speak her mind in candidly colorful ways, but she sometimes fails to consider the impact her spontaneous utterances have on others. Likewise, Trent likes to play hard, but sometimes he fails to account for the pain his self-serving actions may inflict on even those closest to him. Duncan sees these distinctions and consequently develops beliefs for how he conducts himself that reflect this level of discernment. The grown-ups could learn a lot from him.
As noted earlier, the premise of “The Way, Way Back” may not be especially original, but what it lacks in originality it makes up for in skillful execution. This is one of the funniest, most articulate, most smartly written comedies I’ve seen in a long time, providing big laughs consistently throughout. It features an excellent cast, who flesh out their characters effectively, especially in the supporting ranks (give particularly high marks to Janney and to the many talented young actors in this picture). In fact, it’s regrettable that the film’s trailer really doesn’t do the movie justice; given the rave reviews and warm reception it has received thus far, this picture could be well on its way to becoming the sleeper hit of the summer, especially if word of mouth recommendations build a case for it as happened with such past surprise hits as “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” (2002) and “The Full Monty” (1997).
At some point in our adolescence, in the midst of what probably seemed like incessant confusion, we were all likely cryptically told by our elders that “someday you'll understand.” The fortunate among us were able to figure that out sooner rather than later, though others of us no doubt reached middle age without a whiff of any greater clarity. So the sooner (and more thoroughly) we come to understand ourselves (especially our beliefs), the better off we’ll be at creating our reality and manifesting a more fulfilling life. “The Way, Way Back” provides valuable clues on how to go about this, offering tips that, one would hope, teens (and late-blooming adults) can grasp and embrace to make their lives at least more tolerable, if not downright enjoyable.
Now how rad is that?
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Friday, July 5, 2013
‘Unfinished Song’ examines changing one’s tune
“Unfinished Song” (2012 production, 2013 release). Cast: Terence Stamp, Vanessa Redgrave, Gemma Arterton, Christopher Eccleston, Orla Hill, Barry Martin, Taru Devani, Anne Reid, Elizabeth Counsell, Ram John Holder, Denise Rubens, Arthur Nightingale, Jumayn Hunter, Alan Ruscoe. Director: Paul Andrew Williams. Screenplay: Paul Andrew Williams. Web site. Trailer.
When life doesn’t turn out as hoped for, it’s easy to slip into despair. But, if we adhere to the principles of conscious creation, we must also realize that, however our existence unfolds, the results ultimately originate with us. How we respond to those outcomes is what makes the difference in terms of how much fulfillment we get out of the experience and how we might change our circumstances if need be. These are some of the significant themes that characterize the story in the charming new comedy-drama, “Unfinished Song.”
If anyone ever epitomized the persona of a “curmudgeon,” it would be Arthur Harris (Terence Stamp). The crusty, middle class British retiree complains about virtually everything from indoor smoking restrictions to the well-meaning gestures of others to the life led by his son, James (Christopher Eccleston), a blue collar divorced father who works hard to help his parents and support his daughter, Jennifer (Orla Hill). In fact, about the only thing Arthur doesn’t complain about is his beloved wife, Marion (Vanessa Redgrave), whom he truly adores. But, as insufferably grumpy as Arthur appears on the outside, Marion knows that his allegedly sour demeanor is mostly benign. She’s well aware that, deep down inside, he possesses the disposition of a pussycat; she just wishes that he’d let it out for everyone else to see.
Long-time married couple Marion and Arthur Harris (from left, Vanessa Redgrave, Terence Stamp) face an uncertain future due to Marion’s impending demise in the charming new comedy-drama, “Unfinished Song.” Photo courtesy of The Weinstein Co.
Marion's wish, as heartfelt as it is, however, may also be one of her last. She’s rapidly succumbing to an aggressive form of cancer that leaves her quite debilitated much of the time. But, as someone whose personality is the antithesis of Arthur’s, she refuses to let her illness deter her from enjoying what time she has left. Marion spends much of that time singing with a seniors’ choral group (the OAPz) at a nearby community center. Leading the chorus of spry septuagenarians is Elizabeth (Gemma Arteron), a spunky young music director who conducts her crooners in a selection of pieces not typical of their age group, including works by the likes of Stevie Wonder, Cyndi Lauper, the B-52s and Salt-n-Pepa.
True to form, Arthur thinks the OAPz are making fools of themselves. Marion, by contrast, is having a blast. And, by intentionally selecting music not typical of her performers’ generation, Elizabeth believes she’s helping to keep the seniors youthful and vital compared to others their age. Marion and Elizabeth hold out hope that Arthur will come to see the joy their music brings them. But, as one who’s content to wallow in dour self-absorption, not to mention agonizing over his wife’s impending demise, Arthur won’t allow himself – as Cyndi Lauper’s hopeful lyrics earnestly implore – to “let [his] true colors come shining through.” And, as one who’s anxiously watching time run out, Marion prays that her husband comes to this realization for himself before it’s too late.
While singing to her curmudgeonly husband, Arthur, terminally ill songstress Marion Harris (Vanessa Redgrave) attempts to demonstrate how much enjoyment and fulfillment can come from creating for its own sake in director Paul Andrew Williams’s delightful new release, “Unfinished Song.” Photo by Nick Wall, courtesy of The Weinstein Co.
Anyone who actively engages in conscious creation realizes that we create our reality through the thoughts, beliefs and intents we hold. The existence we experience is thus a direct reflection of what we believe, mirroring that outlook back to us with remarkable fidelity. So, given Arthur’s gloomy mindset, is it any surprise that his reality ostensibly reflects what thoughts he’s putting out? Having apparently bought into the idea that “life always disappoints,” he thus experiences an existence seemingly in line with that belief.
However, it should be noted that the emphasis here is on the word “seemingly.” As Marion so astutely observes, Arthur’s true demeanor is unlike the disposition he appears to put out. She’s without doubt that much of his attitude is mere bluster, that he’s truly a warm, compassionate soul on the inside – and she should know, having been the direct beneficiary of his innate kindness for all the years of their marriage. She’s convinced, even if Arthur isn’t, that he’ll get much more satisfaction out of life if he’ll only let that side of himself surface. That concerns her, too, given that her departure from his world is looming; she sincerely hopes that he’ll find a way to enjoy what remains of his life once she’s gone, especially since she’s apparently been his sole source of pleasure for a very long time.
To turn things around, all Arthur need do is rewrite the beliefs he employs to create his reality. However, that may not be as easy as it sounds, especially since he’s spent years building a façade made up of disappointment-based beliefs, despite whatever his authentic self might really be like. If only he’d make the effort to take a closer look at his life, he just might find that it’s not so bad after all, that many elements of it are right in line with the uplifting nature at the core of his being. This is particularly important for two areas of his life – the joy that music provides and the relationship he has with his son. If Arthur were to see these aspects of his existence with greater clarity, he just might reassess them and consequently discover that his life is much more worth living than he’s typically believed.
Self-professed sourpuss Arthur Harris (Terence Stamp, right) learns the joys that come from singing from Elizabeth (Gemma Arterton, left), a spunky choral director in charge of a seniors’ singing group, in the heart-warming new release, “Unfinished Song.” Photo by Nick Wall, courtesy of The Weinstein Co.
To that end, the film strongly encourages all of us to consider the merits of creation for its own sake, no matter how the process is applied or how “well” any of its manifestations might turn out. A song sung with joy for the sake of its mere expression is intrinsically beautiful, whether it’s performed with superior artistry or entirely off-key. Marion and her choral peers understand this, and, even though they’re not the best singers, they always seek to get better (but don’t really care if they do). The joy that comes from the act of creating is reward enough. That’s part of our birthright as beings who have chosen to explore what characterizes the experience of physical existence, for better or worse. Now if only the rest of us could see that….
“Unfinished Song” is an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon at the movies. It’s admittedly somewhat predictable and manipulative, but its predictability and manipulation are so well handled – thanks to fine writing and the superb performances of Stamp and Redgrave – that it’s easy to overlook these shortcomings. The film features a wealth of great laughs, as well as a number of very touching moments, all skillfully handled by director Paul Andrew Williams. Arthur’s back story is a little underdeveloped (we never get clear explanations about the source of his pervasive bitterness or his disappointment with James), so some strengthening in this area would have done much to improve the overall narrative.
“Unfinished Song” shows us that it’s never too late to change our tune – as long as we allow it to happen. By living with integrity, honoring the nature of our true selves and paying attention to the inherent character of our reality, we can alter our circumstances to our liking, providing us with lives of greater satisfaction and fulfillment. Indeed, if Marion can do this for herself, considering her experience, we’d be wise to follow her lead.
Maybe there’s hope for us yet.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
When life doesn’t turn out as hoped for, it’s easy to slip into despair. But, if we adhere to the principles of conscious creation, we must also realize that, however our existence unfolds, the results ultimately originate with us. How we respond to those outcomes is what makes the difference in terms of how much fulfillment we get out of the experience and how we might change our circumstances if need be. These are some of the significant themes that characterize the story in the charming new comedy-drama, “Unfinished Song.”
If anyone ever epitomized the persona of a “curmudgeon,” it would be Arthur Harris (Terence Stamp). The crusty, middle class British retiree complains about virtually everything from indoor smoking restrictions to the well-meaning gestures of others to the life led by his son, James (Christopher Eccleston), a blue collar divorced father who works hard to help his parents and support his daughter, Jennifer (Orla Hill). In fact, about the only thing Arthur doesn’t complain about is his beloved wife, Marion (Vanessa Redgrave), whom he truly adores. But, as insufferably grumpy as Arthur appears on the outside, Marion knows that his allegedly sour demeanor is mostly benign. She’s well aware that, deep down inside, he possesses the disposition of a pussycat; she just wishes that he’d let it out for everyone else to see.
Long-time married couple Marion and Arthur Harris (from left, Vanessa Redgrave, Terence Stamp) face an uncertain future due to Marion’s impending demise in the charming new comedy-drama, “Unfinished Song.” Photo courtesy of The Weinstein Co.
Marion's wish, as heartfelt as it is, however, may also be one of her last. She’s rapidly succumbing to an aggressive form of cancer that leaves her quite debilitated much of the time. But, as someone whose personality is the antithesis of Arthur’s, she refuses to let her illness deter her from enjoying what time she has left. Marion spends much of that time singing with a seniors’ choral group (the OAPz) at a nearby community center. Leading the chorus of spry septuagenarians is Elizabeth (Gemma Arteron), a spunky young music director who conducts her crooners in a selection of pieces not typical of their age group, including works by the likes of Stevie Wonder, Cyndi Lauper, the B-52s and Salt-n-Pepa.
True to form, Arthur thinks the OAPz are making fools of themselves. Marion, by contrast, is having a blast. And, by intentionally selecting music not typical of her performers’ generation, Elizabeth believes she’s helping to keep the seniors youthful and vital compared to others their age. Marion and Elizabeth hold out hope that Arthur will come to see the joy their music brings them. But, as one who’s content to wallow in dour self-absorption, not to mention agonizing over his wife’s impending demise, Arthur won’t allow himself – as Cyndi Lauper’s hopeful lyrics earnestly implore – to “let [his] true colors come shining through.” And, as one who’s anxiously watching time run out, Marion prays that her husband comes to this realization for himself before it’s too late.
While singing to her curmudgeonly husband, Arthur, terminally ill songstress Marion Harris (Vanessa Redgrave) attempts to demonstrate how much enjoyment and fulfillment can come from creating for its own sake in director Paul Andrew Williams’s delightful new release, “Unfinished Song.” Photo by Nick Wall, courtesy of The Weinstein Co.
Anyone who actively engages in conscious creation realizes that we create our reality through the thoughts, beliefs and intents we hold. The existence we experience is thus a direct reflection of what we believe, mirroring that outlook back to us with remarkable fidelity. So, given Arthur’s gloomy mindset, is it any surprise that his reality ostensibly reflects what thoughts he’s putting out? Having apparently bought into the idea that “life always disappoints,” he thus experiences an existence seemingly in line with that belief.
However, it should be noted that the emphasis here is on the word “seemingly.” As Marion so astutely observes, Arthur’s true demeanor is unlike the disposition he appears to put out. She’s without doubt that much of his attitude is mere bluster, that he’s truly a warm, compassionate soul on the inside – and she should know, having been the direct beneficiary of his innate kindness for all the years of their marriage. She’s convinced, even if Arthur isn’t, that he’ll get much more satisfaction out of life if he’ll only let that side of himself surface. That concerns her, too, given that her departure from his world is looming; she sincerely hopes that he’ll find a way to enjoy what remains of his life once she’s gone, especially since she’s apparently been his sole source of pleasure for a very long time.
To turn things around, all Arthur need do is rewrite the beliefs he employs to create his reality. However, that may not be as easy as it sounds, especially since he’s spent years building a façade made up of disappointment-based beliefs, despite whatever his authentic self might really be like. If only he’d make the effort to take a closer look at his life, he just might find that it’s not so bad after all, that many elements of it are right in line with the uplifting nature at the core of his being. This is particularly important for two areas of his life – the joy that music provides and the relationship he has with his son. If Arthur were to see these aspects of his existence with greater clarity, he just might reassess them and consequently discover that his life is much more worth living than he’s typically believed.
Self-professed sourpuss Arthur Harris (Terence Stamp, right) learns the joys that come from singing from Elizabeth (Gemma Arterton, left), a spunky choral director in charge of a seniors’ singing group, in the heart-warming new release, “Unfinished Song.” Photo by Nick Wall, courtesy of The Weinstein Co.
To that end, the film strongly encourages all of us to consider the merits of creation for its own sake, no matter how the process is applied or how “well” any of its manifestations might turn out. A song sung with joy for the sake of its mere expression is intrinsically beautiful, whether it’s performed with superior artistry or entirely off-key. Marion and her choral peers understand this, and, even though they’re not the best singers, they always seek to get better (but don’t really care if they do). The joy that comes from the act of creating is reward enough. That’s part of our birthright as beings who have chosen to explore what characterizes the experience of physical existence, for better or worse. Now if only the rest of us could see that….
“Unfinished Song” is an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon at the movies. It’s admittedly somewhat predictable and manipulative, but its predictability and manipulation are so well handled – thanks to fine writing and the superb performances of Stamp and Redgrave – that it’s easy to overlook these shortcomings. The film features a wealth of great laughs, as well as a number of very touching moments, all skillfully handled by director Paul Andrew Williams. Arthur’s back story is a little underdeveloped (we never get clear explanations about the source of his pervasive bitterness or his disappointment with James), so some strengthening in this area would have done much to improve the overall narrative.
“Unfinished Song” shows us that it’s never too late to change our tune – as long as we allow it to happen. By living with integrity, honoring the nature of our true selves and paying attention to the inherent character of our reality, we can alter our circumstances to our liking, providing us with lives of greater satisfaction and fulfillment. Indeed, if Marion can do this for herself, considering her experience, we’d be wise to follow her lead.
Maybe there’s hope for us yet.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
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