“Inside Llewyn Davis” (2013). Cast: Oscar Isaac, Carey Mulligan, Justin Timberlake, John Goodman, Garrett Hedlund, F. Murray Abraham, Ethan Phillips, Robin Bartlett, Max Casella, Jerry Grayson, Sylvia Kauders, Ian Jarvis, Adam Driver, Stark Sands, Jeanine Serralles, Stan Carp. Directors: Ethan Coen and Joel Coen. Screenplay: Joel Coen and Ethan Coen. Web site. Trailer.
Getting out of our own way is often one of the biggest challenges we face in attaining success. For whatever reason, we often become stymied by various fixations, blind spots and pet peeves that hold us back from fulfilling our aspirations – and our potential. That’s a problem illustrated through the experiences of a beleaguered musician in the Coen Brothers’ new period piece film, “Inside Llewyn Davis.”
Folk singer Llewyn Davis (Oscar Isaac) leads a pretty unenviable life. The struggling artist desperately scrapes by while attempting to make a name for himself in the emerging folk music community of New York’s Greenwich Village in 1961. But, no matter what he does, he invariably winds up shooting himself in the foot, giving new meaning to the notion of “one step forward, ten steps back.”
Why all the trouble? Well, for starters, he’s seeking to build a career as a solo act, his former singing partner having inexplicably taken a suicidal leap off the George Washington Bridge. Then there’s his doddering, clueless record label owner, Mel Novikoff (Jerry Grayson), an aging, small-time producer whose grasp on reality diminishes with each passing day. And, with copies of his debut solo album, Inside Llewyn Davis, amassing piles of dust, the artist’s prospects seem limited to little more than occasional live appearances at the Village’s Gaslight Cafe.
But the biggest source of Llewyn’s troubles is Llewyn himself. Despite his capabilities for penning heartfelt compositions and delivering emotive performances, he just never seems to be able to get his act together, literally or figuratively. He bounces from temporary living arrangement to temporary living arrangement, mostly crashing on the nearest available living room couch. He’s perpetually broke, squandering his scant, hard-earned cash on things like paying for a clandestine abortion for Jean Berkey (Carey Mulligan), a fellow folk singer who he got pregnant during a casual fling (the second time he’s become embroiled in circumstances like this, too). And, even when promising opportunities present themselves, Llewyn inevitably finds a way to foul up (mostly with his surly attitude); such is the case, for example, during an impromptu audition for Bud Grossman (F. Murray Abraham), owner of the Gate of Horn, an iconic Chicago folk music mecca to which Llewyn makes a pilgrimage in a desperate attempt to land a gig.
If all that weren’t bad enough, Llewyn surrounds himself with a largely unhealthy circle of peers, such as Jean, whose relentlessly shrill tone frequently works his last nerve. The same can be said of Llewyn’s sister Joy (Jeanine Serralles), whose perpetually hypercritical attitude routinely undercuts any enthusiasm he attempts to generate for himself. He even gets grief from an enigmatic pair of road trip companions, eccentric jazz musician Roland Turner (John Goodman) and his equally odd cohort, Johnny Five (Garrett Hedlund). And, when it comes to the few backers who are willing to get behind Llewyn, such as his friend and fellow musician Jim Berkey (Justin Timberlake) (who also happens to be Jean’s husband), Gaslight Cafe owner Pappi Corsicato (Max Casella), and ardent folk music fans Mitch and Lillian Gorfein (Ethan Phillips, Robin Bartlett), he takes their friendship and support for granted, treating them disrespectfully, seriously overreacting to the slightest of offenses and generally behaving badly.
Considering the foregoing, it’s not difficult to imagine what direction Llewyn’s life will take. But, that obvious inevitability aside, one still can’t help but wonder, why? Even Llewyn doesn’t seem to be able to figure that out. However, with his career and his very survival on the line, he’d better come up with some answers – and fast.
Metaphysically speaking, one might justifiably wonder what Llewyn is thinking. From a conscious creation perspective, it’s hard to imagine why anyone would want to manifest the kind of wholly unsatisfying reality he’s materialized. Indeed, as Jean observes, he’s the antithesis of King Midas, one who manages to turn everything he touches into something far removed from gold. So what’s behind this?
While Llewyn’s motivations are never made completely clear, there are some hints. He seems determined, for example, to create his art his way, and compromise is out of the question. He takes his music seriously, and that’s apparent in his compositions and his performances. However, with the emergence of folk music as an increasingly popular art form, with a growing number of performers vying for attention, many of those artists turn to various contrivances – some of them rather gimmicky – as a means to distinguish themselves, but that’s something Llewyn is loath to do. As a consequence, no matter how beautiful his music might be, he doesn’t stand out from the pack, and, when people don’t readily respond as he hopes, he grows discouraged and embittered, sometimes even lashing out at the few loyal fans he has.
From a conscious creation perspective, this is a classic case of un-conscious creation or creation by default, the practice whereby we employ single-minded beliefs to manifest a desired outcome regardless of the associated consequences. In doing so, Llewyn behaves like the proverbial little kid who doesn’t get his way, one who opts to take his guitar and go home if audiences won’t accept his art on his terms. This is not to suggest that he should abandon his goals and dreams; remaining true to oneself, operating from a perspective of personal integrity, usually yields the most optimum results in the long run. But, by donning blinders and copping an attitude when outcomes don’t live up to expectations, one invariably ends up paying the price, as Llewyn finds out the hard way – over and over again.
As unfulfilling as this course of action might ultimately be, it can also be a significant life lesson that most of us need to experience at some point, and the frustrating, sometimes-painful consequences that go along with this is part of our learning curve. It forces us to assess, and possibly reconsider, our beliefs and motivations, giving thought to what we’re seeking to materialize, as well as to whatever potential fallout might come along for the ride. Such introspection can prove quite valuable, spotlighting aspects of our intents and our being that need to be altered. In this regard, it can be especially helpful at getting in touch with the role and impact of what author Caroline Myss refers to as “our inner saboteur” in creating the existence we experience, an exercise Llewyn would serve himself well to concertedly engage in.
In the end, all of the foregoing illuminates the tremendous power that can be unleashed through the conscious creation process. And this, in turn, sheds light on the responsibility inherent in managing this power. When handled properly, this creative force can yield miraculous results, but, when wielded recklessly, the outcomes can be disastrous. For his part, Llewyn needs to learn the difference.
“Inside Llewyn Davis” is a well-crafted period piece with a very distinctive look, mood and feel featuring solid performances, both musically and in the acting. However, it suffers from a number of shortcomings, such as underdeveloped characters (probably due to a lack of a sufficient back story), an unfocused storyline and tedious pacing, all of which undermine the film’s strengths. Moreover, the Coen Brothers’ signature style of humor isn’t fleshed out here as well as in their many other fine works, which is indeed unfortunate.
I’m not sure if the filmmakers have assumed that viewers are intimately familiar with the 1960s New York folk music scene (particularly the life of singer-songwriter Dave Von Ronk, the artist on whom Llewyn’s character is supposedly based), but the end product certainly comes across that way. It seems as though there’s a lot left unexplained that’s assumed as inherently understood. The result is a slice of life piece with too few laughs, too many left-field quirks and not enough satisfactory explanations, all of which muddy the waters of the plot and cloud the messages the film is attempting to convey. Fault the writing for this, something that seldom misses the mark in Coen Brothers productions.
In spite of its weaknesses, the film has nevertheless earned quite a few honors, including three Golden Globe Award nominations, with nods for best musical/comedy picture and best musical/comedy actor (for Oscar Isaac); three Independent Spirit Award nominations, including best feature and best lead actor; and four Critics Choice Award nominations, including best picture and best screenplay. The picture also won the Grand Prize of the Jury and captured a Palme d’Or nomination at the 2013 Cannes Film Festival. However, the film’s performance in the Oscar nominations turned out to be rather anemic, having been surprisingly passed over in the music categories and picking up only two nods in technical areas.
When we insist on fighting against ourselves, we’re the ones who invariably get beat up in the end. That’s a realization many of us need to embrace if we ever hope to move ahead toward the achievement of our objectives. “Inside Llewyn Davis” provides us with a cautionary tale in this regard, offering advice that could ultimately prove valuable – as long as we listen to it.
Copyright © 2013-2014, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Friday, January 17, 2014
Sunday, January 12, 2014
'Consciously Created Cinema' Is on the Way!
After several years' work (and many hours in front of the silver screen), I'm very pleased to announce the upcoming release of my second book, Consciously Created Cinema: The Movie Lover's Guide to the Law of Attraction. This new title, a followup to my first book, Get the Picture: Conscious Creation Goes to the Movies, will be available in ebook and print-on-demand softcover formats, with a launch projected for the second half of February. I'm very excited about this new release!
Like its predecessor, Consciously Created Cinema examines how movies illustrate the principles of conscious creation (also known as the law of attraction). The book explores some of the concepts first raised in Get the Picture and introduces some new principles not examined before. And, as a followup book, Consciously Created Cinema does this by focusing on titles released during the time since the debut of its predecessor, from 2006 to the end of the 2012 movie awards season. Nearly all movie genres are featured, too, from comedy to drama to science fiction and even documentaries. It presents a delicious buffet of cinematic offerings, something sure to suit every taste!
In the coming weeks, keep an eye out for further developments on the book's release. Look for new pages about the book to be set up on Facebook and Google+, as well as ongoing announcements on LinkedIn and Twitter. You'll be able to see when the book will be available and from which sellers, notices of upcoming media events about the book (such as radio interviews) and what others are saying about the book, including luminaries in the field of metaphysics and experts in the movie industry! And that's just the beginning!
Cover design by Paul L. Clark, www.inspirtainment.com
I'm sure you'll be pleased with this new release (I am!). So keep an eye on the aforementioned social media sites in the coming weeks to find out more. And, in the meantime, enjoy the show!
Like its predecessor, Consciously Created Cinema examines how movies illustrate the principles of conscious creation (also known as the law of attraction). The book explores some of the concepts first raised in Get the Picture and introduces some new principles not examined before. And, as a followup book, Consciously Created Cinema does this by focusing on titles released during the time since the debut of its predecessor, from 2006 to the end of the 2012 movie awards season. Nearly all movie genres are featured, too, from comedy to drama to science fiction and even documentaries. It presents a delicious buffet of cinematic offerings, something sure to suit every taste!
In the coming weeks, keep an eye out for further developments on the book's release. Look for new pages about the book to be set up on Facebook and Google+, as well as ongoing announcements on LinkedIn and Twitter. You'll be able to see when the book will be available and from which sellers, notices of upcoming media events about the book (such as radio interviews) and what others are saying about the book, including luminaries in the field of metaphysics and experts in the movie industry! And that's just the beginning!
I'm sure you'll be pleased with this new release (I am!). So keep an eye on the aforementioned social media sites in the coming weeks to find out more. And, in the meantime, enjoy the show!
Friday, January 10, 2014
‘Mandela’ celebrates the triumph of the human spirit
“Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom” (2013). Cast: Idris Elba, Naomie Harris, Tony Kgoroge, Riaad Moosa, Thapelo Mokoena, Terry Pheto, Gys de Villiers, Jamie Bartlett, David Butler, Zolani Mkiva, Simo Mogwaza, Fana Mokoena, Zikhona Zidlaka. Director: Justin Chadwick. Screenplay: William Nicholson. Book: Nelson Mandela, Long Walk to Freedom. Web site. Trailer.
Life can toss us some extremely trying challenges, but, no matter how difficult those tasks may be, we always have the power to overcome them if we put our minds to it. Such is the power of the human spirit, a quality of our character showcased in the inspiring new biopic, “Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom.”
The struggle to achieve racial equality and social justice in South Africa was a decades-long ordeal that involved considerable strife and suffering. Under the auspices of apartheid, the nation’s legally sanctioned policy of institutionalized racial separation that was designed to preserve the leadership of a white minority over a black majority at almost any cost, South Africa was nearly torn apart from within. What’s more, over time, the country was severely ostracized, increasingly isolated from the rest of the world, especially when its harsh practices become more widely known around the globe. And one man at the heart the struggle became the symbol of that cause, Nelson Mandela (1918-2013) (Idris Elba).
The film follows the life of this iconic figure through six decades of his remarkable odyssey. Beginning with his early days as a lawyer, the picture then charts his emerging activist efforts through his involvement with the African National Congress, a banned but formidable organization that pushed for the rights of the country’s black majority. What began as a largely nonviolent effort, however, eventually turned confrontational, especially when South African authorities began stepping up the brutality of their tactics, even at protests that, although vocal, were otherwise peaceful. In response, Mandela led his followers down a new path, one that included acts that might arguably be considered terrorist incidents but that he and the ANC considered necessary measures to make their voices heard.
For his efforts, Mandela earned the reputation of a hero among his peers and of a criminal among South African authorities. And, even though he was able to evade capture for some time, he was eventually caught, tried and convicted of acts of insurgency, crimes for which he and a group of his associates were sentenced to life in prison. However, despite being behind bars, Mandela’s legacy lived on, thanks in large part to the campaigns to secure his freedom spearheaded by his children and his wife, Winnie (Naomie Harris). Winnie’s activism brought her under scrutiny as well, resulting in her own incarceration but simultaneously prompting the rise of her own brand of militancy.
As the years passed and international pressure began marginalizing the African nation, authorities realized they needed to take steps to preserve the country’s very existence. But, to do that, they also knew they needed to address the concerns of the black majority. And, despite his criminal record, Mandela was seen as a bridge to that community, one that the government hoped to court to achieve an amenable solution. However, when approached, Mandela held firm to his convictions of justice and equality for the nation’s black population, a prospect the white ruling elite railed against. With their backs against the wall, though, the leadership slowly came to realize that it needed to compromise if the nation were to survive. And so, to calm growing pressures and to preserve order, under the direction of President F.W. de Klerk (Gys de Villiers), Mandela was released from prison and his demands were addressed, developments that opened the door to what would be his greatest accomplishment of all – his election as South Africa’s first democratically elected black president.
If nothing else, “Mandela” makes clear the importance of being true to oneself and one’s beliefs, no matter how difficult that may be. In the long run, doing so is the only way to materialize the reality we seek to manifest through the conscious creation process. To that end, we must take the essential steps of embracing integrity and overcoming fear to achieve the desired outcomes. Mandela embodied those qualities, and he saw them through to completion to realize the vision he held for his people and his country.
In the process, however, he also became acutely aware that we get back what we put out. So, even though he followed a violent path during part of his journey, he eventually realized that was not the path that would bring him the results he sought. He came to see how we reap what we sow, that violence only begets violence. Despite the injustices inflicted upon him, his family and his people, he knew he had to change his beliefs if he ever wanted to achieve a different outcome. He came to understand that peace begets peace, and he needed to adjust his thinking accordingly to see that goal realized. Through his struggle, he transcended his prior thinking, making his dissatisfaction known but through peaceful means, a shift in outlook that ultimately made his dream possible.
To be sure, taking this approach came at a high price. Mandela spent over 27 years in prison, and his incarceration took a heavy toll on his marriage, not just because of the separation from Winnie, but also because of the very different political stance she took during his time in jail and thereafter. Their differences led to their eventual divorce, a painful experience on top of all of the other sacrifices he made.
Yet, in spite of his personal travails, Mandela came to see the tremendous power inherent in forgiveness, a force capable of yielding incalculable rewards. Given what happened to him, it would have been easy for Mandela to become embittered and vengeful, and few probably would have faulted him for such a response. But, as Albert Einstein observed, “We can’t solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them,” and Mandela employed this notion in the solutions he came up with. And, as unlikely as his response may have seemed, it worked, ushering in a new future for the nation to which he devoted his life.
On balance, “Mandela” presents a fair, respectful treatment of its subject’s life, with phenomenal performances by Elba and Harris. It ambitiously attempts to cover a lot of ground in its 2:21 runtime, and it succeeds for the most part, although Mandela’s early days tend to get short shrift, the time when his activism was taking root. Much like another 2013 civil rights release, “The Butler,” the film might have benefited tremendously from a more thorough treatment of its protagonist’s life. It would have made for a longer picture, but it would have also resulted in a better movie.
“Mandela” is also good at telling a “triumph of the human spirit” story – far better than the much more celebrated “12 Years a Slave.” It’s true to this theme without resorting to repeated depictions of unbridled brutality to make its point. In doing so, the film is also careful not to depict Mandela as someone who walked on water, either. It takes a balanced approach in portraying him as an iconic figure who was also human, with all our faults and shortcomings, no matter what accomplishments we might achieve. The film also presents an excellent depiction of South African culture, especially its music and indigenous spiritual beliefs. The picture has been nominated for three Golden Globe Awards, including best dramatic actor, and one Critics Choice Award.
South Africa – and the world – are better places for having had Nelson Mandela in their presence. His recent passing was a great loss, but his contributions to our planet are a lasting legacy that celebrates the man and the ideals for which he stood. The example he set is one to follow for anyone who cherishes freedom and all that comes with it, regardless of where or when we live. And, for that, we should all be grateful for the inspiration he provided us.
Copyright © 2014, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Life can toss us some extremely trying challenges, but, no matter how difficult those tasks may be, we always have the power to overcome them if we put our minds to it. Such is the power of the human spirit, a quality of our character showcased in the inspiring new biopic, “Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom.”
The struggle to achieve racial equality and social justice in South Africa was a decades-long ordeal that involved considerable strife and suffering. Under the auspices of apartheid, the nation’s legally sanctioned policy of institutionalized racial separation that was designed to preserve the leadership of a white minority over a black majority at almost any cost, South Africa was nearly torn apart from within. What’s more, over time, the country was severely ostracized, increasingly isolated from the rest of the world, especially when its harsh practices become more widely known around the globe. And one man at the heart the struggle became the symbol of that cause, Nelson Mandela (1918-2013) (Idris Elba).
The film follows the life of this iconic figure through six decades of his remarkable odyssey. Beginning with his early days as a lawyer, the picture then charts his emerging activist efforts through his involvement with the African National Congress, a banned but formidable organization that pushed for the rights of the country’s black majority. What began as a largely nonviolent effort, however, eventually turned confrontational, especially when South African authorities began stepping up the brutality of their tactics, even at protests that, although vocal, were otherwise peaceful. In response, Mandela led his followers down a new path, one that included acts that might arguably be considered terrorist incidents but that he and the ANC considered necessary measures to make their voices heard.
For his efforts, Mandela earned the reputation of a hero among his peers and of a criminal among South African authorities. And, even though he was able to evade capture for some time, he was eventually caught, tried and convicted of acts of insurgency, crimes for which he and a group of his associates were sentenced to life in prison. However, despite being behind bars, Mandela’s legacy lived on, thanks in large part to the campaigns to secure his freedom spearheaded by his children and his wife, Winnie (Naomie Harris). Winnie’s activism brought her under scrutiny as well, resulting in her own incarceration but simultaneously prompting the rise of her own brand of militancy.
As the years passed and international pressure began marginalizing the African nation, authorities realized they needed to take steps to preserve the country’s very existence. But, to do that, they also knew they needed to address the concerns of the black majority. And, despite his criminal record, Mandela was seen as a bridge to that community, one that the government hoped to court to achieve an amenable solution. However, when approached, Mandela held firm to his convictions of justice and equality for the nation’s black population, a prospect the white ruling elite railed against. With their backs against the wall, though, the leadership slowly came to realize that it needed to compromise if the nation were to survive. And so, to calm growing pressures and to preserve order, under the direction of President F.W. de Klerk (Gys de Villiers), Mandela was released from prison and his demands were addressed, developments that opened the door to what would be his greatest accomplishment of all – his election as South Africa’s first democratically elected black president.
If nothing else, “Mandela” makes clear the importance of being true to oneself and one’s beliefs, no matter how difficult that may be. In the long run, doing so is the only way to materialize the reality we seek to manifest through the conscious creation process. To that end, we must take the essential steps of embracing integrity and overcoming fear to achieve the desired outcomes. Mandela embodied those qualities, and he saw them through to completion to realize the vision he held for his people and his country.
In the process, however, he also became acutely aware that we get back what we put out. So, even though he followed a violent path during part of his journey, he eventually realized that was not the path that would bring him the results he sought. He came to see how we reap what we sow, that violence only begets violence. Despite the injustices inflicted upon him, his family and his people, he knew he had to change his beliefs if he ever wanted to achieve a different outcome. He came to understand that peace begets peace, and he needed to adjust his thinking accordingly to see that goal realized. Through his struggle, he transcended his prior thinking, making his dissatisfaction known but through peaceful means, a shift in outlook that ultimately made his dream possible.
To be sure, taking this approach came at a high price. Mandela spent over 27 years in prison, and his incarceration took a heavy toll on his marriage, not just because of the separation from Winnie, but also because of the very different political stance she took during his time in jail and thereafter. Their differences led to their eventual divorce, a painful experience on top of all of the other sacrifices he made.
Yet, in spite of his personal travails, Mandela came to see the tremendous power inherent in forgiveness, a force capable of yielding incalculable rewards. Given what happened to him, it would have been easy for Mandela to become embittered and vengeful, and few probably would have faulted him for such a response. But, as Albert Einstein observed, “We can’t solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them,” and Mandela employed this notion in the solutions he came up with. And, as unlikely as his response may have seemed, it worked, ushering in a new future for the nation to which he devoted his life.
On balance, “Mandela” presents a fair, respectful treatment of its subject’s life, with phenomenal performances by Elba and Harris. It ambitiously attempts to cover a lot of ground in its 2:21 runtime, and it succeeds for the most part, although Mandela’s early days tend to get short shrift, the time when his activism was taking root. Much like another 2013 civil rights release, “The Butler,” the film might have benefited tremendously from a more thorough treatment of its protagonist’s life. It would have made for a longer picture, but it would have also resulted in a better movie.
“Mandela” is also good at telling a “triumph of the human spirit” story – far better than the much more celebrated “12 Years a Slave.” It’s true to this theme without resorting to repeated depictions of unbridled brutality to make its point. In doing so, the film is also careful not to depict Mandela as someone who walked on water, either. It takes a balanced approach in portraying him as an iconic figure who was also human, with all our faults and shortcomings, no matter what accomplishments we might achieve. The film also presents an excellent depiction of South African culture, especially its music and indigenous spiritual beliefs. The picture has been nominated for three Golden Globe Awards, including best dramatic actor, and one Critics Choice Award.
South Africa – and the world – are better places for having had Nelson Mandela in their presence. His recent passing was a great loss, but his contributions to our planet are a lasting legacy that celebrates the man and the ideals for which he stood. The example he set is one to follow for anyone who cherishes freedom and all that comes with it, regardless of where or when we live. And, for that, we should all be grateful for the inspiration he provided us.
Copyright © 2014, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Friday, January 3, 2014
‘Walter Mitty’ proclaims ‘Live your life!’
“The Secret Life of Walter Mitty” (2013). Cast: Ben Stiller, Kristen Wiig, Sean Penn, Shirley MacLaine, Patton Oswalt, Kathryn Hahn, Adam Scott, Adrian Martinez, Ólaf Darri Ólafsson, Marcus Antturi. Director: Ben Stiller. Screenplay: Steve Conrad. Story: James Thurber, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, The New Yorker magazine, 1939. Web site. Trailer.
The allure of living a larger-than-life existence holds an undeniable appeal for many of us. Our conception of such a life can indeed inspire and propel us into a richer, more rewarding, more fulfilling way of being – that is, as long as we actively seek to bring it into realization. By failing to move past a purely hypothetical view of said reality, we run the risk of cheating ourselves out of fully embracing the experience that is physical existence, a point made clear in the entertaining new whimsical comedy, “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty.”
Walter Mitty (Ben Stiller) seriously needs to get a life. The mild-mannered, somewhat geeky bachelor leads a quiet, rather Spartan existence. He spends his days working as a photo editor (or, more precisely, “negative asset manager”) for LIFE magazine, meticulously overseeing the periodical’s library of memorable, magnificent images. But, despite the crucial role he plays in connecting the magazine’s readers with the richness of life’s wonders, he’s personally reconciled himself to an existence on the sidelines of reality, one not really connected to the world he so brilliantly showcases to others through the photos he selects to publish.
Interestingly enough, Walter has compensated for this lack of engagement through the development of a very active and extremely vivid daydreaming life. He routinely zones out, losing himself in elaborate fantasies, heroic adventures in which he envisions himself far differently from the Walter who plods through everyday existence. But, no matter how colorful these escapes may be, they ultimately prove less than satisfying. Thus the challenge for our long-suffering hero is to figure out how to bring those escapades to life – for real. On some level, Walter knows he needs to do this, too. He’s grown discontented with living his life vicariously, be it in his vocation, his daily routine and even his romantic life. But how does he go about implementing the necessary changes to make his life more genuinely fulfilling?
Walter’s opportunity comes when he learns that LIFE is making the switch from a print publication to an online periodical. In preparation for the magazine’s last print edition, he’s charged with ensuring that the final issue’s cover photo is safely processed for publication. The image in question was shot by one of LIFE’s longtime iconic photographers, Sean O’Connell (Sean Penn), a reclusive, globe-trotting shutterbug who has always been one of Walter’s idols. Walter looks forward to working with Sean one last time, and, at least initially, everything seems to be going well – that is, until the negative ends up missing. Now what?
Under considerable pressure from higher-ups to deliver the image, Walter realizes he must find the missing photo. But, to do that, he must first find the elusive photographer, a quest that forces him to embark on an adventure like the ones his idol partakes of on a daily basis. In other words, Walter must at last get a life of his own.
It’s a daunting prospect to someone so unaccustomed to these sorts of grand exploits, but, with such a critical task to carry out, Walter realizes he must do what it takes, no matter what the cost. His remarkable odyssey will ultimately take him to Greenland, Iceland and Afghanistan, and it will bring him into contact with people and places he had once only dreamed of. It’s a lot to go through to find a photo, but, in the process, it also affords Walter an even greater reward – the opportunity to find himself.
Walter’s chief lesson in all this is rather obvious – that he needs to learn how to live his life, not just daydream about it. Getting to that point, however, requires making some necessary adjustments.
For example, facing down one’s fears is essential, for we’ll never get to know what it’s like to participate in certain aspects of life unless we’re willing to move past our apprehensions of trying them out. As he’s depicted in the film, Walter isn’t an especially fretful soul, but, as someone who has rarely given himself permission to engage in life’s adventures, he lacks the experience necessary to routinely engage in such behavior. He must develop the courage to push past that self-imposed barrier to become more fully involved in the manifestation of his existence. When you think about it, that’s pretty ironic for someone who works for a publication named LIFE. But that also probably explains why he’s a photo editor holed up in an office and not a photographer working in the field; through this choice of vocation, he immerses himself in life’s reflections but not in its experiences.
If Walter is ever going to change, he also needs to alter his beliefs, the internal means by which he manifests the external reality he experiences through the conscious creation process. At first glance, this might seem like a challenging task, but, when one considers the breadth of his creativity (as seen in the fantasy sequences portraying his daydreams), he clearly possesses quite an extensive palette of imagination to draw upon – if only he’ll allow himself to avail himself of it.
Some might question the maturity (or even the sanity) of someone who so routinely escapes into a world of fantasy, and those arguments certainly have merit. However, such flights of fancy also illustrate a remarkable capacity to stretch creatively, to push the limits of one’s beliefs, qualities that help to illuminate the range of one’s manifestation skills and all that they make possible. In that sense, then, Walter’s daydreaming sessions could be looked upon as a sort of metaphysical training ground, spotlighting the means by which he envisions creative possibilities before actually attempting to materialize them. Indeed, there is something to be said for practice – provided we don’t stay stuck in that routine forever. After all, life is meant to be lived, not just imagined.
When we lack practical, hands-on experience in creating our reality, we may find it challenging, even perplexing, to engage in the practice when we finally attempt to do so consciously. But that need not be the case. Since our outer reality is a mirror of our inner, belief-driven world, we can draw upon externalized clues that reflect our intents, manifestations that help to make us aware of what we’re creating, perhaps even validating that we’re on the right track.
For instance, such signs can take the form of synchronicities, those little, fortuitously timed “coincidences” that seem too fitting to be characterized as purely random. Walter repeatedly encounters these hints in dealings with his sister (Kathryn Hahn) and his mother (Shirley MacLaine), as well as in his review of photographic clues designed to lead him to his missing idol. Further “evidence” of conscious creation at work can come in the form of pronouncements from muses. Their often-unexpected statements ring true with sparkling clarity, providing insights that are precisely what we need to hear in moments of crisis or when potentially life-changing decisions are called for. In Walter’s case, they frequently come through when he needs their advice most. Some of his muses are people he already knows and admires, like Sean. But others take wholly unanticipated forms, such as an online dating customer service representative (Patton Oswalt) who counsels Walter on ways to court Cheryl, a co-worker and potential new romantic interest (Kristen Wiig). But, regardless of how our intents are reflected back to us, we’d serve ourselves well to pay attention to them, for they often prove invaluable in helping us get a life. Just ask Walter.
On balance, “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty” is a thoughtful, engaging comedy. Its visually stunning cinematography (especially in its sweeping landscape shots) and inventive fantasy sequences are quite enjoyable. The film’s clever editing leads viewers out of Walter’s everyday life and into his daydreams with a seamless proficiency that I’ve rarely seen in movies attempting comparable feats.
However, despite these strengths, the picture also suffers from some serious pacing issues, especially in the sequences falling between Walter’s daydreams and between his real-life adventures. Those transitional segments – most of which involve Walter’s painfully dull conversations with Cheryl and his tediously repetitive confrontations with his boss (Adam Scott) – lack energy (in large part due to Wiig’s miscasting) and would benefit from some judicious snipping. The film also includes far too much blatant product placement, making some scenes look more like commercials than entertainment.
Still, in spite of these shortcomings, “Walter Mitty” expresses some nice sentiments, and it does so rather skillfully. That’s particularly true of its exploration of living on the fringes of life as spectators rather than as actively engaged participants. Walter’s evolution sets a good example to follow, especially for anyone who feels a need to leave behind a secret life for one that’s on full view for all to see – especially ourselves.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
The allure of living a larger-than-life existence holds an undeniable appeal for many of us. Our conception of such a life can indeed inspire and propel us into a richer, more rewarding, more fulfilling way of being – that is, as long as we actively seek to bring it into realization. By failing to move past a purely hypothetical view of said reality, we run the risk of cheating ourselves out of fully embracing the experience that is physical existence, a point made clear in the entertaining new whimsical comedy, “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty.”
Walter Mitty (Ben Stiller) seriously needs to get a life. The mild-mannered, somewhat geeky bachelor leads a quiet, rather Spartan existence. He spends his days working as a photo editor (or, more precisely, “negative asset manager”) for LIFE magazine, meticulously overseeing the periodical’s library of memorable, magnificent images. But, despite the crucial role he plays in connecting the magazine’s readers with the richness of life’s wonders, he’s personally reconciled himself to an existence on the sidelines of reality, one not really connected to the world he so brilliantly showcases to others through the photos he selects to publish.
Interestingly enough, Walter has compensated for this lack of engagement through the development of a very active and extremely vivid daydreaming life. He routinely zones out, losing himself in elaborate fantasies, heroic adventures in which he envisions himself far differently from the Walter who plods through everyday existence. But, no matter how colorful these escapes may be, they ultimately prove less than satisfying. Thus the challenge for our long-suffering hero is to figure out how to bring those escapades to life – for real. On some level, Walter knows he needs to do this, too. He’s grown discontented with living his life vicariously, be it in his vocation, his daily routine and even his romantic life. But how does he go about implementing the necessary changes to make his life more genuinely fulfilling?
Walter’s opportunity comes when he learns that LIFE is making the switch from a print publication to an online periodical. In preparation for the magazine’s last print edition, he’s charged with ensuring that the final issue’s cover photo is safely processed for publication. The image in question was shot by one of LIFE’s longtime iconic photographers, Sean O’Connell (Sean Penn), a reclusive, globe-trotting shutterbug who has always been one of Walter’s idols. Walter looks forward to working with Sean one last time, and, at least initially, everything seems to be going well – that is, until the negative ends up missing. Now what?
Under considerable pressure from higher-ups to deliver the image, Walter realizes he must find the missing photo. But, to do that, he must first find the elusive photographer, a quest that forces him to embark on an adventure like the ones his idol partakes of on a daily basis. In other words, Walter must at last get a life of his own.
It’s a daunting prospect to someone so unaccustomed to these sorts of grand exploits, but, with such a critical task to carry out, Walter realizes he must do what it takes, no matter what the cost. His remarkable odyssey will ultimately take him to Greenland, Iceland and Afghanistan, and it will bring him into contact with people and places he had once only dreamed of. It’s a lot to go through to find a photo, but, in the process, it also affords Walter an even greater reward – the opportunity to find himself.
Walter’s chief lesson in all this is rather obvious – that he needs to learn how to live his life, not just daydream about it. Getting to that point, however, requires making some necessary adjustments.
For example, facing down one’s fears is essential, for we’ll never get to know what it’s like to participate in certain aspects of life unless we’re willing to move past our apprehensions of trying them out. As he’s depicted in the film, Walter isn’t an especially fretful soul, but, as someone who has rarely given himself permission to engage in life’s adventures, he lacks the experience necessary to routinely engage in such behavior. He must develop the courage to push past that self-imposed barrier to become more fully involved in the manifestation of his existence. When you think about it, that’s pretty ironic for someone who works for a publication named LIFE. But that also probably explains why he’s a photo editor holed up in an office and not a photographer working in the field; through this choice of vocation, he immerses himself in life’s reflections but not in its experiences.
If Walter is ever going to change, he also needs to alter his beliefs, the internal means by which he manifests the external reality he experiences through the conscious creation process. At first glance, this might seem like a challenging task, but, when one considers the breadth of his creativity (as seen in the fantasy sequences portraying his daydreams), he clearly possesses quite an extensive palette of imagination to draw upon – if only he’ll allow himself to avail himself of it.
Some might question the maturity (or even the sanity) of someone who so routinely escapes into a world of fantasy, and those arguments certainly have merit. However, such flights of fancy also illustrate a remarkable capacity to stretch creatively, to push the limits of one’s beliefs, qualities that help to illuminate the range of one’s manifestation skills and all that they make possible. In that sense, then, Walter’s daydreaming sessions could be looked upon as a sort of metaphysical training ground, spotlighting the means by which he envisions creative possibilities before actually attempting to materialize them. Indeed, there is something to be said for practice – provided we don’t stay stuck in that routine forever. After all, life is meant to be lived, not just imagined.
When we lack practical, hands-on experience in creating our reality, we may find it challenging, even perplexing, to engage in the practice when we finally attempt to do so consciously. But that need not be the case. Since our outer reality is a mirror of our inner, belief-driven world, we can draw upon externalized clues that reflect our intents, manifestations that help to make us aware of what we’re creating, perhaps even validating that we’re on the right track.
For instance, such signs can take the form of synchronicities, those little, fortuitously timed “coincidences” that seem too fitting to be characterized as purely random. Walter repeatedly encounters these hints in dealings with his sister (Kathryn Hahn) and his mother (Shirley MacLaine), as well as in his review of photographic clues designed to lead him to his missing idol. Further “evidence” of conscious creation at work can come in the form of pronouncements from muses. Their often-unexpected statements ring true with sparkling clarity, providing insights that are precisely what we need to hear in moments of crisis or when potentially life-changing decisions are called for. In Walter’s case, they frequently come through when he needs their advice most. Some of his muses are people he already knows and admires, like Sean. But others take wholly unanticipated forms, such as an online dating customer service representative (Patton Oswalt) who counsels Walter on ways to court Cheryl, a co-worker and potential new romantic interest (Kristen Wiig). But, regardless of how our intents are reflected back to us, we’d serve ourselves well to pay attention to them, for they often prove invaluable in helping us get a life. Just ask Walter.
On balance, “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty” is a thoughtful, engaging comedy. Its visually stunning cinematography (especially in its sweeping landscape shots) and inventive fantasy sequences are quite enjoyable. The film’s clever editing leads viewers out of Walter’s everyday life and into his daydreams with a seamless proficiency that I’ve rarely seen in movies attempting comparable feats.
However, despite these strengths, the picture also suffers from some serious pacing issues, especially in the sequences falling between Walter’s daydreams and between his real-life adventures. Those transitional segments – most of which involve Walter’s painfully dull conversations with Cheryl and his tediously repetitive confrontations with his boss (Adam Scott) – lack energy (in large part due to Wiig’s miscasting) and would benefit from some judicious snipping. The film also includes far too much blatant product placement, making some scenes look more like commercials than entertainment.
Still, in spite of these shortcomings, “Walter Mitty” expresses some nice sentiments, and it does so rather skillfully. That’s particularly true of its exploration of living on the fringes of life as spectators rather than as actively engaged participants. Walter’s evolution sets a good example to follow, especially for anyone who feels a need to leave behind a secret life for one that’s on full view for all to see – especially ourselves.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
New Year's Resolutions
Considering a New Year's resolution? You might want to think about that before you make it. Read more about it in "Be It Resolved: Making Every Day New Year's Day," my latest blog post at www.smartwomensempowerment.org.
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Intent, integrity get put on trial in ‘American Hustle’
“American Hustle” (2013). Cast: Christian Bale, Bradley Cooper, Amy Adams, Jeremy Renner, Jennifer Lawrence, Louis C.K., Jack Huston, Michael Peña, Shea Whigham, Alessandro Nivola, Elisabeth Röhm, Paul Herman, Danny Corbo, Sonny Corbo, Robert DeNiro (uncredited). Director: David O. Russell. Screenplay: Eric Singer and David O. Russell. Web site. Trailer.
Getting what we want out of life often takes considerable moxie. But all the chutzpah in the world won’t matter a damn if it’s not properly backed up with traits like personal integrity and sound intent. That can be a difficult lesson to learn, too, as a coterie of colorful characters finds out all too well in the new, fact-based, period piece comedy, “American Hustle.”
The plot of “American Hustle” is rather complicated, and revealing it in detail would give away too much of the story. In a nutshell, however, the picture is loosely based on the 1978 covert FBI operation known as Abscam, which sought to expose corruption among political power brokers, including members of the House of Representatives and a U.S. Senator, with the aid of professional con artists.
In this fictionalized account, the film follows the exploits of con man Irving Rosenfeld (Christian Bale) and his partner-in-crime/sometimes-lover Sydney Prosser (Amy Adams). Together they routinely and convincingly scam desperate borrowers in search of hard-to-find cash. Their racket is quite successful, too, until they cross paths with FBI agent Richie DiMaso (Bradley Cooper), who nabs the duo in an undercover sting. DiMaso makes them an interesting offer, however; he’s willing to trade jail time for their assistance as consultants on a high-profile white collar crime operation he’s planning. Irving and Sydney agree to the overzealous, opportunistic agent’s offer, but, as things get under way, none of them can possibly envision what awaits them – especially when the stakes spiral wildly out of control.
What ensues is an elaborate con game in which everyone hustles everyone else, both in “business” matters and in romantic dealings. This applies not only to the scheme’s three principals but also to virtually everyone else connected with it. This tawdry cast of supporting characters includes Irving’s brassy, loud-mouthed, neurotic wife, Rosalyn (Jennifer Lawrence); the well-meaning and well-connected but woefully naïve mayor of Camden, New Jersey, Carmine Polito (Jeremy Renner); DiMaso’s mild-mannered but overly officious boss, Stoddard Thorson (Louis C.K.); a politically ambitious federal prosecutor, Anthony Amado (Alessandro Nivola); a Latino FBI agent, Paco Hernandez, who feebly poses as a phony Middle Eastern sheikh (Michael Peña); a pair of mob-connected casino operators (Robert DeNiro, Jack Huston) and their crooked attorney (Paul Herman); and an array of Congressmen eager to grant political favors in exchange for generous “campaign contributions.” And, as events unfold and plans go wildly astray, the results give new meaning to concept of “the best laid plans of mice and men.”
The conscious creation experiences of this film’s characters shine a very bright light on the notion of intent and what underlies our manifestation efforts. The beliefs we employ in materializing our existence get reflected back to us with sparkling clarity, even if we’re not always clear about what those beliefs inherently involve. So, if we willfully engage in intentional acts of deception, as Irving, Sydney and, ultimately, Richie do, it shouldn’t come as any surprise that the results we realize are in line with that thinking, the outcomes often containing elements where the deceivers themselves wind up deceived. The aftermath of that can make for some rather bitter medicine to swallow.
These circumstances thus lend considerable credence to the importance of integrity in our creative efforts, particularly when it comes to striving for the results we desire. If we fudge the essence of our beliefs, for example, we’ll attain outcomes commensurate with such obfuscation, for better or worse. And, if we’re truly honest with ourselves, this really shouldn’t come as any surprise, either, yet it’s amazing how often we’re shocked when we get precisely what we put forth. Nevertheless, as consciousness pioneer Jane Roberts often wrote, we get what we concentrate upon. That’s frequently a painful lesson for the film’s protagonists, but it’s especially devastating for Carmine, who periodically engages in willful wrongdoings, even when he knows better, because he assumes such acts are just part of how things get done. He justifies his conduct by holding fast to the belief that it’s sincerely intended to serve an allegedly higher purpose, but these actions still raise all sorts of thorny questions about the ends justifying the means.
By contrast, the one character in the film who’s unabashedly truthful to herself is Rosalyn. She knows what she wants and doesn’t hesitate to make her wishes known, no matter how embarrassing, inconvenient or undermining the expression of her intents may be to others. She knows she’s in touch with this notion, too, even going so far as to brag about having read a book on the subject written by Wayne Dyer (a fan I’m sure he never knew he had!). And, in Rosalyn’s efforts to operate from her own sense of integrity, she keeps everyone else honest, whether they want to be or not.
It’s ironic that these issues come up so pointedly for these characters, especially since, on some level, most of them are legitimately seeking to reinvent themselves. However, the act of genuine reinvention requires sincerity and truthfulness, personal qualities these players seriously lack. With little or no experience in this area, their attempts at making such changes ultimately represent major life lessons for them. And, in that regard, one probably can’t fault them for any of their efforts that go awry since such foibles are an intrinsic part of their learning curves. For their sake, though, one can only hope that they learn from their missteps and make real forward progress.
All of the foregoing considerations make clear just how important it is for us to get in touch with the tools available to us to aid in our personal evolution, particularly our intuition. Not only does it help guide us in our own belief formation and manifestation efforts, but it can also provide a valuable hedge against potentially disastrous pitfalls. I’m sure all of the victims of Irving’s scams wish they would have tapped into it before they got taken to the cleaners. But, then again, I’m sure Irving wishes he’d drawn upon it, too, before his plans, fittingly enough, came back to bite his own posterior. (Would-be scammers take note.)
In my view, “American Hustle” is easily the best picture I’ve seen so far this year. Not only does it make its metaphysical points well, but it’s also an expertly crafted film in virtually every regard. The ensemble of performers is one of the best assembled casts I’ve seen in years, and everybody is terrific in their respective roles (it’s hard to single out anyone in particular, but Bale and Lawrence are especially noteworthy). These stellar portrayals are made possible by the superb writing and the excellent direction of filmmaker David O. Russell, who has arguably turned out his best work in this picture. But, as remarkable as these attributes are, the movie positively nails its take on the ʼ70s in everything from its evocative soundtrack to its tacky clothes and, especially, its hideous hairstyles. The result is a campy, kitschy, nostalgic romp that provides as many laughs through its visuals and its attitude as it does through its many hilarious one-liners. Indeed, as Irving routinely explains to his initiates, “success is in the details,” and that principle is aptly reflected in the filmmaking on display here.
This picture deserves every bit of praise that it earns, and that’s apparent in the many accolades that have already been generously heaped upon it. The film has captured 7 Golden Globe Award nominations, 2 Screen Actors Guild Award nominations and a whopping 13 Critics Choice Award nominations, many of which involve honors for best picture, best director, best screenplay, best acting ensemble, and individual acting nominations for all of the principals, particularly Bale and Lawrence. But, considering the quality involved, it’s easy to see why.
Qualities like integrity and truthfulness are often the first casualties in manifestation efforts governed by self-serving expediency, even when veiled in fabricated attitudes that seemingly espouse the contrary. However, if we’re ever to attain what we truly say we desire, those absent traits must be put into place. Failing on this front can carry grave consequences, as the Abscam offenders painfully found out for themselves. And so, to that end, then, as anyone who grew up in the disco era of the ʼ70s well knows, “hustling” is something best left for the dance floor, not the dance of life.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Getting what we want out of life often takes considerable moxie. But all the chutzpah in the world won’t matter a damn if it’s not properly backed up with traits like personal integrity and sound intent. That can be a difficult lesson to learn, too, as a coterie of colorful characters finds out all too well in the new, fact-based, period piece comedy, “American Hustle.”
The plot of “American Hustle” is rather complicated, and revealing it in detail would give away too much of the story. In a nutshell, however, the picture is loosely based on the 1978 covert FBI operation known as Abscam, which sought to expose corruption among political power brokers, including members of the House of Representatives and a U.S. Senator, with the aid of professional con artists.
In this fictionalized account, the film follows the exploits of con man Irving Rosenfeld (Christian Bale) and his partner-in-crime/sometimes-lover Sydney Prosser (Amy Adams). Together they routinely and convincingly scam desperate borrowers in search of hard-to-find cash. Their racket is quite successful, too, until they cross paths with FBI agent Richie DiMaso (Bradley Cooper), who nabs the duo in an undercover sting. DiMaso makes them an interesting offer, however; he’s willing to trade jail time for their assistance as consultants on a high-profile white collar crime operation he’s planning. Irving and Sydney agree to the overzealous, opportunistic agent’s offer, but, as things get under way, none of them can possibly envision what awaits them – especially when the stakes spiral wildly out of control.
What ensues is an elaborate con game in which everyone hustles everyone else, both in “business” matters and in romantic dealings. This applies not only to the scheme’s three principals but also to virtually everyone else connected with it. This tawdry cast of supporting characters includes Irving’s brassy, loud-mouthed, neurotic wife, Rosalyn (Jennifer Lawrence); the well-meaning and well-connected but woefully naïve mayor of Camden, New Jersey, Carmine Polito (Jeremy Renner); DiMaso’s mild-mannered but overly officious boss, Stoddard Thorson (Louis C.K.); a politically ambitious federal prosecutor, Anthony Amado (Alessandro Nivola); a Latino FBI agent, Paco Hernandez, who feebly poses as a phony Middle Eastern sheikh (Michael Peña); a pair of mob-connected casino operators (Robert DeNiro, Jack Huston) and their crooked attorney (Paul Herman); and an array of Congressmen eager to grant political favors in exchange for generous “campaign contributions.” And, as events unfold and plans go wildly astray, the results give new meaning to concept of “the best laid plans of mice and men.”
The conscious creation experiences of this film’s characters shine a very bright light on the notion of intent and what underlies our manifestation efforts. The beliefs we employ in materializing our existence get reflected back to us with sparkling clarity, even if we’re not always clear about what those beliefs inherently involve. So, if we willfully engage in intentional acts of deception, as Irving, Sydney and, ultimately, Richie do, it shouldn’t come as any surprise that the results we realize are in line with that thinking, the outcomes often containing elements where the deceivers themselves wind up deceived. The aftermath of that can make for some rather bitter medicine to swallow.
These circumstances thus lend considerable credence to the importance of integrity in our creative efforts, particularly when it comes to striving for the results we desire. If we fudge the essence of our beliefs, for example, we’ll attain outcomes commensurate with such obfuscation, for better or worse. And, if we’re truly honest with ourselves, this really shouldn’t come as any surprise, either, yet it’s amazing how often we’re shocked when we get precisely what we put forth. Nevertheless, as consciousness pioneer Jane Roberts often wrote, we get what we concentrate upon. That’s frequently a painful lesson for the film’s protagonists, but it’s especially devastating for Carmine, who periodically engages in willful wrongdoings, even when he knows better, because he assumes such acts are just part of how things get done. He justifies his conduct by holding fast to the belief that it’s sincerely intended to serve an allegedly higher purpose, but these actions still raise all sorts of thorny questions about the ends justifying the means.
By contrast, the one character in the film who’s unabashedly truthful to herself is Rosalyn. She knows what she wants and doesn’t hesitate to make her wishes known, no matter how embarrassing, inconvenient or undermining the expression of her intents may be to others. She knows she’s in touch with this notion, too, even going so far as to brag about having read a book on the subject written by Wayne Dyer (a fan I’m sure he never knew he had!). And, in Rosalyn’s efforts to operate from her own sense of integrity, she keeps everyone else honest, whether they want to be or not.
It’s ironic that these issues come up so pointedly for these characters, especially since, on some level, most of them are legitimately seeking to reinvent themselves. However, the act of genuine reinvention requires sincerity and truthfulness, personal qualities these players seriously lack. With little or no experience in this area, their attempts at making such changes ultimately represent major life lessons for them. And, in that regard, one probably can’t fault them for any of their efforts that go awry since such foibles are an intrinsic part of their learning curves. For their sake, though, one can only hope that they learn from their missteps and make real forward progress.
All of the foregoing considerations make clear just how important it is for us to get in touch with the tools available to us to aid in our personal evolution, particularly our intuition. Not only does it help guide us in our own belief formation and manifestation efforts, but it can also provide a valuable hedge against potentially disastrous pitfalls. I’m sure all of the victims of Irving’s scams wish they would have tapped into it before they got taken to the cleaners. But, then again, I’m sure Irving wishes he’d drawn upon it, too, before his plans, fittingly enough, came back to bite his own posterior. (Would-be scammers take note.)
In my view, “American Hustle” is easily the best picture I’ve seen so far this year. Not only does it make its metaphysical points well, but it’s also an expertly crafted film in virtually every regard. The ensemble of performers is one of the best assembled casts I’ve seen in years, and everybody is terrific in their respective roles (it’s hard to single out anyone in particular, but Bale and Lawrence are especially noteworthy). These stellar portrayals are made possible by the superb writing and the excellent direction of filmmaker David O. Russell, who has arguably turned out his best work in this picture. But, as remarkable as these attributes are, the movie positively nails its take on the ʼ70s in everything from its evocative soundtrack to its tacky clothes and, especially, its hideous hairstyles. The result is a campy, kitschy, nostalgic romp that provides as many laughs through its visuals and its attitude as it does through its many hilarious one-liners. Indeed, as Irving routinely explains to his initiates, “success is in the details,” and that principle is aptly reflected in the filmmaking on display here.
This picture deserves every bit of praise that it earns, and that’s apparent in the many accolades that have already been generously heaped upon it. The film has captured 7 Golden Globe Award nominations, 2 Screen Actors Guild Award nominations and a whopping 13 Critics Choice Award nominations, many of which involve honors for best picture, best director, best screenplay, best acting ensemble, and individual acting nominations for all of the principals, particularly Bale and Lawrence. But, considering the quality involved, it’s easy to see why.
Qualities like integrity and truthfulness are often the first casualties in manifestation efforts governed by self-serving expediency, even when veiled in fabricated attitudes that seemingly espouse the contrary. However, if we’re ever to attain what we truly say we desire, those absent traits must be put into place. Failing on this front can carry grave consequences, as the Abscam offenders painfully found out for themselves. And so, to that end, then, as anyone who grew up in the disco era of the ʼ70s well knows, “hustling” is something best left for the dance floor, not the dance of life.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Friday, December 20, 2013
‘Saving Mr. Banks’ celebrates the magical nature of our personal reality
“Saving Mr. Banks” (2013). Cast: Emma Thompson, Tom Hanks, Colin Farrell, Paul Giamatti, Rachel Griffiths, Annie Rose Buckley, Ruth Wilson, Bradley Whitford, Jason Schwartzman, B.J. Novak, Kathy Baker, Melanie Paxson, Andy McPhee. Director: John Lee Hancock. Screenplay: Kelly Marcel and Sue Smith. Web site. Trailer.
Have you ever looked at something one way only to find that everyone else sees it completely differently? That might seem improbable to some, but, if we accept the notion that we each create our own reality, the idea doesn’t seem quite so far-fetched. In fact, it might even be seen as downright magical. However, if we’re unable or unwilling to recognize the existence of such personal distinctions, we set ourselves up for trouble, as illustrated by the new, fact-based docudrama, “Saving Mr. Banks,” a chronicle of the back story behind the making of the beloved children’s film, “Mary Poppins” (1964).
In 1961, children’s author P.L. Travers (Emma Thompson) faced a serious dilemma: She was broke. Despite having published a number of best-selling titles (most notably the Mary Poppins books, the endearing adventures of the Banks family and their magical nanny), revenues and royalties from those works had dried up. Confronted with the prospect of losing her London home, Travers’ situation had become quite dire. But, in spite of this looming misfortune, she had a way out – if she chose to make use of it. Availing herself of this safety net was easier said than done, however, because it involved a decision that pained her greatly.
World-renowned movie producer Walt Disney (Tom Hanks) had been a fan of Travers for over 20 years. In fact, he was so taken with the Mary Poppins books and the favorable impact they had on his daughters that he promised them he would one day make a picture based on those enchanting works. To that end, he aggressively sought to obtain the movie rights to the books, and, as someone accustomed to getting his way, he was confident he could achieve that goal. There was just one hitch – Travers hated Disney’s movies and was loath to sell him the rights to her works.
Travers thought most of Disney’s films (especially the animated ones) were little more than inane, overly sentimental, saccharin-encrusted pap. She felt their simplistic, unrealistic narratives did a grave disservice to their audiences, leaving the hordes of children who watched them ill-prepared for the harsh realities of everyday life, and she wanted no part of that. However, Disney was willing to pay handsomely to secure the movie rights, enough to solve Travers’ financial woes. So, with her back to the fiscal wall, she reluctantly made a trip to Hollywood to discuss Disney’s proposal, holding her nose the entire way.
Despite a warm and accommodating welcome from Disney and his staff, Travers had her guard up from the moment she arrived. She agreed to discuss a movie project in principle, but she was unwilling to sign over the rights until she knew exactly what Walt had in mind. She met with script writer Don DaGradi (Bradley Whitford) and songwriters Robert and Richard Sherman (B.J. Novak, Jason Schwartzman), but she was adversarial from the outset, insisting on approval of every detail. In fact, she was so mistrustful of her would-be collaborators that she required all of their sessions together to be tape-recorded as a hedge against any misunderstandings.
To make matters worse, Travers was exceedingly belligerent and condescending in her objections, which ran the gamut from major issues, such as a prohibition against the use of animation, to the smallest of minutiae, such as one of the characters being given a previously nonexistent mustache. At one point, she even went so far as to express her dislike of the color red, insisting that it not be used anywhere in the film. Such unreasonable and unrealistic demands finally prompted the mild-mannered Disney to step in to find out what was really going on.
Through discussions with Walt and her collaborators, Travers gradually revealed that she was reluctant to subject her beloved characters to Disney’s proposed treatment, mainly because it didn’t accurately reflect the image she had long held of her cherished creations. And the reason for this was that Mary Poppins and the Banks family were based on Travers’ own childhood experiences. Thus the war of wills between Travers and Disney was not one based on creative differences; it was personal.
To gain Travers’ support, Disney and company needed to engage in what essentially amounted to some impromptu counseling. They needed to understand where Travers was coming from to get a better handle on the nature of her objections. Viewers of this film become aware of that through a series of intercut flashbacks to Travers’ childhood in rural Australia, most notably episodes depicting the bittersweet relationship between her younger self (Annie Rose Buckley) and her kindly but alcoholic father (Colin Farrell). The challenges associated with those difficult daily living conditions eventually prompted her overwhelmed mother (Ruth Wilson) to seek outside help to bring order to the household. That assistance was provided by Travers’ Aunt Ellie (Rachel Griffiths), a stern but loving woman who provided the necessary stability – and who would one day become the inspiration for Mary Poppins.
As Travers revealed more about her personal story, Disney and his creative team also came to see that they had misunderstood the intent underlying the narratives of the Mary Poppins books: They had innocently, but mistakenly, believed that the title character showed up in the lives of the Banks family to help out with the children. However, as Travers gradually and painfully made clear, Mary Poppins’ arrival was instead predicated on saving Mr. Banks, a fictionalized version of her father, and it’s that storyline that she insisted the film must depict. Thus began an intense, heartfelt process that would transform the movie project, not to mention Travers herself.
The central misunderstanding at the core of this story, ironically enough, is very telling about the nature of the conscious creation process, the philosophy that maintains we create our own reality through our thoughts, beliefs and intents. Travers was troubled (and, arguably, somewhat justifiably so) that her beloved characters were being unacceptably misrepresented. But, then, that’s understandable, because she created them based on her beliefs – impressions that, quite obviously, differed markedly from those of her readers and of the Disney staff, who created their own visions of Mary and the Bankses based on their own beliefs. And, because Travers’ creations arose from beliefs based on such personally touching experiences, their proposed alterations were difficult for her to fathom.
As unintentionally inoffensive as those alternate interpretations may have been, they were nevertheless painful for Travers to contemplate, especially since many of the conflicted feelings associated with the beliefs and experiences that gave rise to her creations remained unresolved, even after all those years. In fact, the author was so clear in her own mind about her vision for the characters (and unaware of the discrepancies between that and the views of others) that it never even occurred to her that Mary Poppins and the Banks family could be seen in any other light than the one she had intended for them (hence, her resistance and antagonism).
This, in turn, points out one of the potential pitfalls that can come with conscious creation – the possibility of developing tunnel vision with regard to our beliefs. Our focus can become so one-directional that we lose sight of the myriad other options the philosophy makes possible. We thus run the risk of falling prey to the practice of creation by default, or un-conscious creation, wherein we become locked into one way of thinking (and creating), one that keeps us from seeing other equally viable possibilities.
Travers’ experience with Disney and his associates thus helps to open her eyes to never-before-considered options. In that respect, then, she has her horizons broadened in much the same way that Mary Poppins helps expand the vistas of those she touches. In particular, this experience teaches Travers that she, like all of us, must learn how to let go of outmoded beliefs and creations when they no longer serve our interests.
For instance, the difficulties of Travers’ childhood, which helped give shape to her writings, also helped frame the course of her own adult life. The tampering that Disney and company proposed for her characters and narratives represented a symbolic threat to the beliefs she had employed all of her life in creating the reality she experienced, and, in her view, changing the means by which her existence arose – no matter how unfulfilling or even detrimental that reality may have been at times – was not an acceptable option. On some level, however, Travers also knew she needed to change her beliefs to change her reality. As a student of Buddhism and Gurdjieff, she was clearly in search of answers, but nothing she investigated seemed to work.
That’s where Disney’s involvement proved invaluable. Specifically, Walt and his colleagues showed the author that it was okay to embrace beliefs about being happy, that life needn’t always be seen as being full of despair. They employed this tactic on several levels, too, including everything from how they respectfully intended to portray her characters to how they treated her as a person (thanks in large part to the courtesies extended her by Ralph (Paul Giamatti), the affable chauffeur Disney assigned to Travers during her stay in Hollywood). In this way, Disney did justice not only to her characters, but also to their creator herself.
The film adaptation of “Mary Poppins” went on to become one of the most endearing children’s films of all time, winning 5 Oscars on 13 nominations and 1 Golden Globe Award on 4 nominations. Even if Travers wasn’t entirely pleased with the finished product, the experience helped change her life and the beliefs she drew upon in creating her existence. And all it took was a little metaphysical magic, the kind that her brainchild routinely employed in transforming the lives of those with whom she interacted. In that sense, Travers’ experience went full circle, creating a character who helped change the lives of others and whose influence, in turn, helped change the life of the one who created her. Given that, then, “Saving Mr. Banks” could just as easily have been titled “Saving Mrs. Travers.” In either instance, the designation would have been just as appropriate.
I’ll admit to having had some strong reservations about this film going in. Based on its trailer, the picture struck me as a lightweight, self-congratulatory piece of fluff, but that impression, thankfully, is far from the truth.
“Saving Mr. Banks” is an excellent movie in virtually every regard. It’s surprisingly substantive for a Disney release, one that honors the subject matter on which it’s based but that successfully avoids slipping into an exercise in studio propaganda. It’s a superb period piece, effectively capturing the look and feel of both 1960s Hollywood and turn-of-the-century Australia. Its razor-sharp writing is spot-on, especially in the incisive barbs casually tossed about by Travers and in its more emotional moments, evoking feelings without being manipulative. But, most of all, this picture is an actors’ showcase, featuring tremendous performances across the board, particularly by Thompson, who has richly earned best actress nominations in the upcoming Critics Choice, Golden Globe and Screen Actors Guild Award competitions. The film itself picked up three additional Critics Choice Award nominations, including best picture.
Our awareness of how and why we create our reality as we do is one of our most precious metaphysical birthrights, and we’d serve ourselves well never to lose sight of that. “Saving Mr. Banks” shows us what can occur when that happens, as well as what it takes to get it back. But, even more importantly, the film celebrates the boundless joy that comes from creating our personal reality. And that’s pretty magical if you ask me.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Have you ever looked at something one way only to find that everyone else sees it completely differently? That might seem improbable to some, but, if we accept the notion that we each create our own reality, the idea doesn’t seem quite so far-fetched. In fact, it might even be seen as downright magical. However, if we’re unable or unwilling to recognize the existence of such personal distinctions, we set ourselves up for trouble, as illustrated by the new, fact-based docudrama, “Saving Mr. Banks,” a chronicle of the back story behind the making of the beloved children’s film, “Mary Poppins” (1964).
In 1961, children’s author P.L. Travers (Emma Thompson) faced a serious dilemma: She was broke. Despite having published a number of best-selling titles (most notably the Mary Poppins books, the endearing adventures of the Banks family and their magical nanny), revenues and royalties from those works had dried up. Confronted with the prospect of losing her London home, Travers’ situation had become quite dire. But, in spite of this looming misfortune, she had a way out – if she chose to make use of it. Availing herself of this safety net was easier said than done, however, because it involved a decision that pained her greatly.
World-renowned movie producer Walt Disney (Tom Hanks) had been a fan of Travers for over 20 years. In fact, he was so taken with the Mary Poppins books and the favorable impact they had on his daughters that he promised them he would one day make a picture based on those enchanting works. To that end, he aggressively sought to obtain the movie rights to the books, and, as someone accustomed to getting his way, he was confident he could achieve that goal. There was just one hitch – Travers hated Disney’s movies and was loath to sell him the rights to her works.
Travers thought most of Disney’s films (especially the animated ones) were little more than inane, overly sentimental, saccharin-encrusted pap. She felt their simplistic, unrealistic narratives did a grave disservice to their audiences, leaving the hordes of children who watched them ill-prepared for the harsh realities of everyday life, and she wanted no part of that. However, Disney was willing to pay handsomely to secure the movie rights, enough to solve Travers’ financial woes. So, with her back to the fiscal wall, she reluctantly made a trip to Hollywood to discuss Disney’s proposal, holding her nose the entire way.
Despite a warm and accommodating welcome from Disney and his staff, Travers had her guard up from the moment she arrived. She agreed to discuss a movie project in principle, but she was unwilling to sign over the rights until she knew exactly what Walt had in mind. She met with script writer Don DaGradi (Bradley Whitford) and songwriters Robert and Richard Sherman (B.J. Novak, Jason Schwartzman), but she was adversarial from the outset, insisting on approval of every detail. In fact, she was so mistrustful of her would-be collaborators that she required all of their sessions together to be tape-recorded as a hedge against any misunderstandings.
To make matters worse, Travers was exceedingly belligerent and condescending in her objections, which ran the gamut from major issues, such as a prohibition against the use of animation, to the smallest of minutiae, such as one of the characters being given a previously nonexistent mustache. At one point, she even went so far as to express her dislike of the color red, insisting that it not be used anywhere in the film. Such unreasonable and unrealistic demands finally prompted the mild-mannered Disney to step in to find out what was really going on.
Through discussions with Walt and her collaborators, Travers gradually revealed that she was reluctant to subject her beloved characters to Disney’s proposed treatment, mainly because it didn’t accurately reflect the image she had long held of her cherished creations. And the reason for this was that Mary Poppins and the Banks family were based on Travers’ own childhood experiences. Thus the war of wills between Travers and Disney was not one based on creative differences; it was personal.
To gain Travers’ support, Disney and company needed to engage in what essentially amounted to some impromptu counseling. They needed to understand where Travers was coming from to get a better handle on the nature of her objections. Viewers of this film become aware of that through a series of intercut flashbacks to Travers’ childhood in rural Australia, most notably episodes depicting the bittersweet relationship between her younger self (Annie Rose Buckley) and her kindly but alcoholic father (Colin Farrell). The challenges associated with those difficult daily living conditions eventually prompted her overwhelmed mother (Ruth Wilson) to seek outside help to bring order to the household. That assistance was provided by Travers’ Aunt Ellie (Rachel Griffiths), a stern but loving woman who provided the necessary stability – and who would one day become the inspiration for Mary Poppins.
As Travers revealed more about her personal story, Disney and his creative team also came to see that they had misunderstood the intent underlying the narratives of the Mary Poppins books: They had innocently, but mistakenly, believed that the title character showed up in the lives of the Banks family to help out with the children. However, as Travers gradually and painfully made clear, Mary Poppins’ arrival was instead predicated on saving Mr. Banks, a fictionalized version of her father, and it’s that storyline that she insisted the film must depict. Thus began an intense, heartfelt process that would transform the movie project, not to mention Travers herself.
The central misunderstanding at the core of this story, ironically enough, is very telling about the nature of the conscious creation process, the philosophy that maintains we create our own reality through our thoughts, beliefs and intents. Travers was troubled (and, arguably, somewhat justifiably so) that her beloved characters were being unacceptably misrepresented. But, then, that’s understandable, because she created them based on her beliefs – impressions that, quite obviously, differed markedly from those of her readers and of the Disney staff, who created their own visions of Mary and the Bankses based on their own beliefs. And, because Travers’ creations arose from beliefs based on such personally touching experiences, their proposed alterations were difficult for her to fathom.
As unintentionally inoffensive as those alternate interpretations may have been, they were nevertheless painful for Travers to contemplate, especially since many of the conflicted feelings associated with the beliefs and experiences that gave rise to her creations remained unresolved, even after all those years. In fact, the author was so clear in her own mind about her vision for the characters (and unaware of the discrepancies between that and the views of others) that it never even occurred to her that Mary Poppins and the Banks family could be seen in any other light than the one she had intended for them (hence, her resistance and antagonism).
This, in turn, points out one of the potential pitfalls that can come with conscious creation – the possibility of developing tunnel vision with regard to our beliefs. Our focus can become so one-directional that we lose sight of the myriad other options the philosophy makes possible. We thus run the risk of falling prey to the practice of creation by default, or un-conscious creation, wherein we become locked into one way of thinking (and creating), one that keeps us from seeing other equally viable possibilities.
Travers’ experience with Disney and his associates thus helps to open her eyes to never-before-considered options. In that respect, then, she has her horizons broadened in much the same way that Mary Poppins helps expand the vistas of those she touches. In particular, this experience teaches Travers that she, like all of us, must learn how to let go of outmoded beliefs and creations when they no longer serve our interests.
For instance, the difficulties of Travers’ childhood, which helped give shape to her writings, also helped frame the course of her own adult life. The tampering that Disney and company proposed for her characters and narratives represented a symbolic threat to the beliefs she had employed all of her life in creating the reality she experienced, and, in her view, changing the means by which her existence arose – no matter how unfulfilling or even detrimental that reality may have been at times – was not an acceptable option. On some level, however, Travers also knew she needed to change her beliefs to change her reality. As a student of Buddhism and Gurdjieff, she was clearly in search of answers, but nothing she investigated seemed to work.
That’s where Disney’s involvement proved invaluable. Specifically, Walt and his colleagues showed the author that it was okay to embrace beliefs about being happy, that life needn’t always be seen as being full of despair. They employed this tactic on several levels, too, including everything from how they respectfully intended to portray her characters to how they treated her as a person (thanks in large part to the courtesies extended her by Ralph (Paul Giamatti), the affable chauffeur Disney assigned to Travers during her stay in Hollywood). In this way, Disney did justice not only to her characters, but also to their creator herself.
The film adaptation of “Mary Poppins” went on to become one of the most endearing children’s films of all time, winning 5 Oscars on 13 nominations and 1 Golden Globe Award on 4 nominations. Even if Travers wasn’t entirely pleased with the finished product, the experience helped change her life and the beliefs she drew upon in creating her existence. And all it took was a little metaphysical magic, the kind that her brainchild routinely employed in transforming the lives of those with whom she interacted. In that sense, Travers’ experience went full circle, creating a character who helped change the lives of others and whose influence, in turn, helped change the life of the one who created her. Given that, then, “Saving Mr. Banks” could just as easily have been titled “Saving Mrs. Travers.” In either instance, the designation would have been just as appropriate.
I’ll admit to having had some strong reservations about this film going in. Based on its trailer, the picture struck me as a lightweight, self-congratulatory piece of fluff, but that impression, thankfully, is far from the truth.
“Saving Mr. Banks” is an excellent movie in virtually every regard. It’s surprisingly substantive for a Disney release, one that honors the subject matter on which it’s based but that successfully avoids slipping into an exercise in studio propaganda. It’s a superb period piece, effectively capturing the look and feel of both 1960s Hollywood and turn-of-the-century Australia. Its razor-sharp writing is spot-on, especially in the incisive barbs casually tossed about by Travers and in its more emotional moments, evoking feelings without being manipulative. But, most of all, this picture is an actors’ showcase, featuring tremendous performances across the board, particularly by Thompson, who has richly earned best actress nominations in the upcoming Critics Choice, Golden Globe and Screen Actors Guild Award competitions. The film itself picked up three additional Critics Choice Award nominations, including best picture.
Our awareness of how and why we create our reality as we do is one of our most precious metaphysical birthrights, and we’d serve ourselves well never to lose sight of that. “Saving Mr. Banks” shows us what can occur when that happens, as well as what it takes to get it back. But, even more importantly, the film celebrates the boundless joy that comes from creating our personal reality. And that’s pretty magical if you ask me.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
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