“The Other Dream Team” (2012). Featured Interviews: Arvydas Sabonis, Šarūnas Marčiulionis, Rimas Kurtinaitis, Jonas Valanciunas, Vytautas Landsbergis, Jim Lampley, Alexander Wolff, David Remnick, Bill Walton, David Stern, Chris Mullin, Donnie Nelson, Mickey Hart, Greg Speirs. Director: Marius A. Markevicius. Writers: Jon Weinbach and Marius A. Markevicius. http://otherdreamteam.thefilmarcade.com/
Movies with sports themes are often some of the corniest, most predictable and yet also most inspiring films that find their way into release. Their outcomes seldom come as any surprise, but we watch them all the way through, if for no other reason than the ample good feelings they fill us with. Those that recognize the efforts of underdogs, like “Hoosiers” (1986), “Cool Runnings” (1993), “Breaking Away” (1979) and “Secretariat” (2010), easily get our attention. But those that celebrate unlikely champions competing under extraordinary extenuating circumstances, such as “Glory Road” (2006), “The Express” (2008), “A League of Their Own” (1992), “Miracle” (2004) and “The Blind Side” (2009), captivate us. Such is the case with the recently released documentary, “The Other Dream Team.”
The world was a rapidly changing place in 1992. The Cold War had recently ended, the Berlin Wall had just fallen and the U.S.S.R. was in the process of breaking up. Several once-occupied nations, such as the Baltic states of Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia, had declared their independence and emerged from Soviet domination. Indeed, the global geopolitical stage was shifting in ways no one would have thought conceivable just a few years before.
The implications of these changes were seen in many aspects of life. One of the most visible areas was in the world of sports. This became most apparent at the 1992 Summer Olympics in Barcelona, Spain, where a number of new nations competed for the first time or after protracted absences. Among the new entrants were the aforementioned Baltic states, countries that, although small in size, were formidable as competitors. This was particularly true for Lithuania in the sport of basketball.
Lithuanians have long loved basketball, and the tiny nation had been a powerhouse in the sport in European tournaments as far back as the 1930s. However, when Lithuania was annexed by the Soviet Union in 1944 and vanished as a sovereign state, so did much of the world’s awareness of the country, its culture and its traditions, including in the world of sport. What’s more, because of this loss of independence, Lithuanian athletes were prohibited from competing internationally under their own flag; they now had to do so under the Soviet banner.
Lithuanians contributed significantly to Soviet sports accomplishments in the five decades that they competed for the U.S.S.R. This was perhaps most obvious in the basketball tournament at the 1988 Summer Olympics in Seoul, South Korea, when the Soviets beat the heavily favored U.S. team on their way to winning the Gold Medal, and they did so by fielding a team on which four of the five starters were Lithuanians. However, despite such success, Lithuanian competitors resented having to represent themselves as “Soviets” rather than as “Lithuanians.” They grew especially irate when erroneously referred to as “Russians,” particularly since only two members of the 1988 medal-winning team actually fit that cultural label.
When Lithuania gained its autonomy, its athletes were anxious to compete under their own flag at the Barcelona Olympics. They wanted to show the world what they could do. They were also anxious to settle scores with representatives of their former occupiers on a leveled playing field. But getting to the Olympics took money, something the bankrupt fledgling state seriously lacked. Raising funds to pursue this goal thus became a priority.
After achieving only meager results in its initial fundraising efforts, the team got a big boost from a very unlikely source, the American rock band, the Grateful Dead. The band members were big fans of both basketball and underdogs, so when they heard about the team’s struggles, they wrote a huge check to support its efforts. They also supplied the players with tie-dyed tee shirts featuring the band’s infamous skeleton logo and printed in the colors of the Lithuanian flag. Grateful for the Dead’s support, the team enthusiastically embraced the band’s assistance, ubiquitously sporting their donated gear both before and during the Olympics.
As colorful as the Lithuanians’ odyssey had been, however, the overarching story of the Barcelona tournament was the U.S. team. The 1992 Olympics marked the first time that professional players were allowed to compete, and so the Americans assembled a team featuring such NBA all-stars as Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, Charles Barkley and David Robinson, a lineup that became better known as “the Dream Team.” It was a team that lived up to every bit of its billing, too, handily defeating all of its opponents (including the Lithuanians in a semifinal game) on its way to nabbing the Gold Medal.
But the Lithuanians were not to be denied their moment of glory. Despite their loss to the Americans (which honestly came as no surprise), the Lithuanians, as one of the tournament’s final four teams, qualified to compete in the Bronze Medal game against the Unified Team, a squad made up of players from the remaining Soviet republics at the time. The Lithuanians would thus get an opportunity to redeem themselves against representatives of their nation’s former occupiers, an event whose ramifications clearly went beyond just sports.
The story of the Lithuanian basketball team was one of more than just its proficiency on the court. It was a tale of personal and national pride, the significance of which becomes apparent in the film’s back story about life in Lithuania under 50 years of Soviet domination. The picture presents detailed documentation of everyday life, as well as the rigidly regimented routines imposed on Lithuanian members of the Soviet national team, during that period. It’s easy to see how such pervasive oppression took its toll – and how anxious Lithuanians, from all walks of life, were to pursue the dream of freedom when the opportunity finally presented itself.
Viewers are thus treated to a moving tale of courage, character, justice and inspiration, as well as the inherent power of beliefs. We witness the resolve of a team – and a nation – that knows what each is truly capable of manifesting for itself, a hallmark of conscious creation expertise. The film also documents the lasting legacy of such valor on contemporary Lithuanians, as told through the experience of Jonas Valanciunas, an aspiring basketball phenomenon and NBA prospect born in 1992 who grew up with the legend of his national team’s Olympic success.
“The Other Dream Team” is an engaging documentary from start to finish, conveying its material with heartfelt emotion and uplifting vision in both its political and sports-related narratives. It successfully avoids the temptation of getting too technical, presenting clear, concise explanations without resorting to superficiality or empty platitudes. It incorporates a wealth of archival footage and a wide variety of recent interviews, including team members Arvydas Sabonis, Šarūnas Marčiulionis and Rimas Kurtinaitis, as well as sports journalists Jim Lampley and Alexander Wolff, basketball analyst Bill Walton, Dream Team member Chris Mullin, NBA commissioner David Stern, former Lithuanian head of state Vytautas Landsbergis, Mickey Hart of the Grateful Dead, and tee shirt designer Greg Speirs.
On the surface, a documentary about a basketball team from a little-known European nation might not sound like an especially noteworthy topic for a feature-length movie, but “The Other Dream Team” defies such thinking. It shows us how one need not be famous to be a superstar, that greatness is something we’re each capable of achieving – as long as we believe we can.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Truth and deceit take center stage in ‘Argo’
“Argo” (2012). Cast: Ben Affleck, Bryan Cranston, Alan Arkin, John Goodman, Victor Garber, Tate Donovan, Clea DuVall, Christopher Denham, Scoot McNairy, Kerry Bishé, Rory Cochrane, Chris Messina, Kyle Chandler, Željko Ivanek, Bob Gunton, Page Leong, Sheila Vand. Director: Ben Affleck. Screenplay: Chris Terrio. Source Materials: “The Great Escape: How the CIA Used a Fake Science Fiction Film To Sneak Six Americans Out of Revolutionary Iran,” by Joshuah Bearman, Wired magazine, and The Master of Disguise, by Antonio J. Mendez. http://argothemovie.warnerbros.com
Truth can be an elusive commodity, especially when intentionally tainted with deceit. It can be even more nebulous when the underlying intentions are being directed toward the fulfillment of a noble cause. Navigating the minefield of truth and deception is one of the tasks put to the characters in – and the audiences of – one of this year’s most anticipated new releases, director Ben Affleck’s historical thriller, “Argo.”
In November 1979, militants protesting the ongoing American presence in Iran seized the U.S, embassy in Tehran, an act in support of their country’s recent Islamic Revolution and in retribution for various grievances with their Western foe, some of which had been smoldering for decades. The protestors took 66 Americans hostage, 52 of whom would end up being held captive for 444 days. Their actions thus sparked a protracted, volatile diplomatic exchange between the two countries, one whose ramifications were wide-ranging (and whose impact has been felt ever since).
While the world’s attention was focused on events at the embassy, however, another incident involving Americans was quietly playing out in the shadows of Tehran. And, although this second crisis was smaller in scale, it nevertheless carried implications potentially as significant as those unfolding at the captured diplomatic compound.
At the time the embassy was overrun, six Americans managed to elude the protestors by escaping through a back entrance. They eventually made their way to the home of Canadian ambassador Ken Taylor (Victor Garber), who agreed to take them in while plans for their escape from Iran were developed. But, after weeks in hiding, and with growing concerns about the Americans’ continued safety (not to mention that of their Canadian hosts), Taylor contacted U.S. government officials for help.
Intelligence officials in the U.S. debated a number of options, all of which proved unworkable. It became apparent that getting the six Americans out of Iran would take a miracle, a rescue plan that would clearly involve thinking outside of the box. That’s where CIA “exfiltration” expert Tony Mendez (Ben Affleck) came into play. As a specialist proficient in hatching deceptive schemes to extricate individuals from dangerous situations, Mendez was charged with developing a convincing ruse for safely and clandestinely escorting the Americans out of Iran. His plan was, to say the least, unique.
Mendez proposed that he visit Iran posing as a producer from a Canadian film production company that was scouting locations for a science fiction movie, titled “Argo,” to be shot in Tehran and its surroundings. While in country, he would meet with the Americans, provide them with fabricated Canadian identities and professional dossiers (as members of a fictitious film production crew), and then quietly usher them out of Iran on a flight bound for Zürich, Switzerland.
But to make the plan work, it had to appear credible in case anyone decided to investigate the cover story. And so, in advance of his trip to Iran, Mendez worked with Hollywood professionals to set up a phony production company for the bogus film and to generate publicity for it. Mendez tapped one of his longtime associates, Oscar-winning makeup artist John Chambers (John Goodman), and veteran producer Lester Siegel (Alan Arkin) to head up the newly created Studio Six Productions, giving the project an air of seeming legitimacy. With the dummy company in place (and the Hollywood press buying every word of its trumped-up promotion), and with the official (but secret) blessings of both the U.S. and Canadian governments, the stage was set for Mendez to embark on his journey, one that was fraught with twists, turns and perils right up until the time of the Americans’ flight to freedom.
Questions of truth and deceit, to a great degree, rest on the issue of believability, the driving force in conscious creation, and those considerations certainly take center stage in “Argo” in numerous ways. For instance, those behind the rescue plan – most notably Mendez, Siegel, Chambers and Mendez’s boss (Bryan Cranston) – understand what’s at stake and what’s needed to carry it out successfully. And even though an intentional deception may be involved, it’s an integral part of the plan, one necessary to formulate the beliefs required for manifesting the trapped Americans’ safe return.
Indeed, the very workability of the plan depends on the Iranians believing as truth the deceit being put forth by Mendez and company. For that to happen, the participants in the deception need to accept its validity just as fervently as those being fooled. The trapped American embassy workers ultimately must follow Mendez’s lead in thoroughly buying into their contrived identities as Canadian nationals employed by a film production company. To do less would place them in jeopardy, especially in light of the intense scrutiny that Westerners leaving the country were subjected to by Iranian security officials.
The inherent difficulty in this should be obvious, especially for those who genuinely embrace the role of integrity in belief formation and reality creation. This becomes most apparent in the doubts expressed by Joe Stafford (Scoot McNairy), one of the six Mendez is charged with rescuing. He’s initially convinced he won’t be able to pull it off. But Stafford’s attitude quickly changes when Mendez reminds him that his life depends on being able to carry out the deception. When faced with the virtual certainty of execution if caught and captured by the Iranians, Stafford goes along with the plan, the painful “truth” of the inevitable alternative outweighing whatever belief compromises he must make in carrying out the ruse. When the continued viability of one’s existence is threatened, it can become remarkably easy to adjust one’s beliefs to accommodate the prevailing circumstances.
Of course, truth and deceit figure into this film in ways other than just its narrative. They play a significant role in the picture’s historical accuracy, and it’s on this point where “Argo” lets its viewers down. This film brings new meaning to the phrase “based on a true story,” mainly because of its glaring deviations from how events were said to have unfolded. Several events are presented out of historical sequence, Siegel’s character is a fictitious composite and the film’s concluding segment, when viewed in light of the Wired magazine article upon which the screenplay is based, is a complete fabrication.
While I understand that “Argo” is meant to be entertainment and not a documentary, I nevertheless object to the filmmakers taking such license with the facts. As one who spent years studying and working in the fields of journalism and history, it’s troubling that the picture’s creators felt the need to alter the historical account to such a degree just to sell movie tickets. To be fair, this film does give due credit to the previously unrecognized American heroes who participated in this endeavor. That’s important because, for years after the rescue, CIA involvement in the affair was classified, and all of the accolades went to the brave Canadians who sheltered the trapped Americans (as was widely depicted in press reports at the time and in a 1981 made-for-Canadian-TV movie, “Escape From Iran: The Canadian Caper.”) However, such overdue recognition, in my opinion, has been unduly tarnished by the embellished treatment given to the American heroes’ story.
So what’s the bottom line for this film? In my view, it depends on what you hope to get out of it. If you’re looking for an entertaining thriller, go see it; you won’t be disappointed by its taut level of suspense and its well-crafted action sequences. The performances by its ensemble cast are stellar, too, especially those of Arkin, who turns in some of his best work as the wise-cracking producer, and Affleck, who successfully resists his usual temptation to mug for the camera and gives one of the most mature portrayals of his career.
However, if, like me, you’re a stickler for authenticity, you’ll likely come away from this film disappointed. In addition to its historical narrative problems, “Argo” also suffers from extreme mood changes that don’t mesh well with one another. The tension generated by the dramatic segments set in Tehran and Washington contrasts sharply with the more light-hearted humorous sequences shot in Hollywood. Each is done well by itself, but, regrettably, they don’t integrate effectively. Admittedly, successfully fusing life in two very different worlds is a challenging undertaking, but it can be done, as was the case, for example, in “The Crying Game” (1992). “Argo,” unfortunately, doesn’t measure up in this regard.
Most critics have been favorably impressed with this offering, and the picture has received considerable awards season buzz. But, considering both the film’s strengths and shortcomings, it’s hard to say exactly how truly deserving it is of the praise it has received. In the end, it all probably depends on one’s expectations. And that’s the truth.
Truth can be an elusive commodity, especially when intentionally tainted with deceit. It can be even more nebulous when the underlying intentions are being directed toward the fulfillment of a noble cause. Navigating the minefield of truth and deception is one of the tasks put to the characters in – and the audiences of – one of this year’s most anticipated new releases, director Ben Affleck’s historical thriller, “Argo.”
In November 1979, militants protesting the ongoing American presence in Iran seized the U.S, embassy in Tehran, an act in support of their country’s recent Islamic Revolution and in retribution for various grievances with their Western foe, some of which had been smoldering for decades. The protestors took 66 Americans hostage, 52 of whom would end up being held captive for 444 days. Their actions thus sparked a protracted, volatile diplomatic exchange between the two countries, one whose ramifications were wide-ranging (and whose impact has been felt ever since).
While the world’s attention was focused on events at the embassy, however, another incident involving Americans was quietly playing out in the shadows of Tehran. And, although this second crisis was smaller in scale, it nevertheless carried implications potentially as significant as those unfolding at the captured diplomatic compound.
At the time the embassy was overrun, six Americans managed to elude the protestors by escaping through a back entrance. They eventually made their way to the home of Canadian ambassador Ken Taylor (Victor Garber), who agreed to take them in while plans for their escape from Iran were developed. But, after weeks in hiding, and with growing concerns about the Americans’ continued safety (not to mention that of their Canadian hosts), Taylor contacted U.S. government officials for help.
Intelligence officials in the U.S. debated a number of options, all of which proved unworkable. It became apparent that getting the six Americans out of Iran would take a miracle, a rescue plan that would clearly involve thinking outside of the box. That’s where CIA “exfiltration” expert Tony Mendez (Ben Affleck) came into play. As a specialist proficient in hatching deceptive schemes to extricate individuals from dangerous situations, Mendez was charged with developing a convincing ruse for safely and clandestinely escorting the Americans out of Iran. His plan was, to say the least, unique.
Mendez proposed that he visit Iran posing as a producer from a Canadian film production company that was scouting locations for a science fiction movie, titled “Argo,” to be shot in Tehran and its surroundings. While in country, he would meet with the Americans, provide them with fabricated Canadian identities and professional dossiers (as members of a fictitious film production crew), and then quietly usher them out of Iran on a flight bound for Zürich, Switzerland.
But to make the plan work, it had to appear credible in case anyone decided to investigate the cover story. And so, in advance of his trip to Iran, Mendez worked with Hollywood professionals to set up a phony production company for the bogus film and to generate publicity for it. Mendez tapped one of his longtime associates, Oscar-winning makeup artist John Chambers (John Goodman), and veteran producer Lester Siegel (Alan Arkin) to head up the newly created Studio Six Productions, giving the project an air of seeming legitimacy. With the dummy company in place (and the Hollywood press buying every word of its trumped-up promotion), and with the official (but secret) blessings of both the U.S. and Canadian governments, the stage was set for Mendez to embark on his journey, one that was fraught with twists, turns and perils right up until the time of the Americans’ flight to freedom.
Questions of truth and deceit, to a great degree, rest on the issue of believability, the driving force in conscious creation, and those considerations certainly take center stage in “Argo” in numerous ways. For instance, those behind the rescue plan – most notably Mendez, Siegel, Chambers and Mendez’s boss (Bryan Cranston) – understand what’s at stake and what’s needed to carry it out successfully. And even though an intentional deception may be involved, it’s an integral part of the plan, one necessary to formulate the beliefs required for manifesting the trapped Americans’ safe return.
Indeed, the very workability of the plan depends on the Iranians believing as truth the deceit being put forth by Mendez and company. For that to happen, the participants in the deception need to accept its validity just as fervently as those being fooled. The trapped American embassy workers ultimately must follow Mendez’s lead in thoroughly buying into their contrived identities as Canadian nationals employed by a film production company. To do less would place them in jeopardy, especially in light of the intense scrutiny that Westerners leaving the country were subjected to by Iranian security officials.
The inherent difficulty in this should be obvious, especially for those who genuinely embrace the role of integrity in belief formation and reality creation. This becomes most apparent in the doubts expressed by Joe Stafford (Scoot McNairy), one of the six Mendez is charged with rescuing. He’s initially convinced he won’t be able to pull it off. But Stafford’s attitude quickly changes when Mendez reminds him that his life depends on being able to carry out the deception. When faced with the virtual certainty of execution if caught and captured by the Iranians, Stafford goes along with the plan, the painful “truth” of the inevitable alternative outweighing whatever belief compromises he must make in carrying out the ruse. When the continued viability of one’s existence is threatened, it can become remarkably easy to adjust one’s beliefs to accommodate the prevailing circumstances.
Of course, truth and deceit figure into this film in ways other than just its narrative. They play a significant role in the picture’s historical accuracy, and it’s on this point where “Argo” lets its viewers down. This film brings new meaning to the phrase “based on a true story,” mainly because of its glaring deviations from how events were said to have unfolded. Several events are presented out of historical sequence, Siegel’s character is a fictitious composite and the film’s concluding segment, when viewed in light of the Wired magazine article upon which the screenplay is based, is a complete fabrication.
While I understand that “Argo” is meant to be entertainment and not a documentary, I nevertheless object to the filmmakers taking such license with the facts. As one who spent years studying and working in the fields of journalism and history, it’s troubling that the picture’s creators felt the need to alter the historical account to such a degree just to sell movie tickets. To be fair, this film does give due credit to the previously unrecognized American heroes who participated in this endeavor. That’s important because, for years after the rescue, CIA involvement in the affair was classified, and all of the accolades went to the brave Canadians who sheltered the trapped Americans (as was widely depicted in press reports at the time and in a 1981 made-for-Canadian-TV movie, “Escape From Iran: The Canadian Caper.”) However, such overdue recognition, in my opinion, has been unduly tarnished by the embellished treatment given to the American heroes’ story.
So what’s the bottom line for this film? In my view, it depends on what you hope to get out of it. If you’re looking for an entertaining thriller, go see it; you won’t be disappointed by its taut level of suspense and its well-crafted action sequences. The performances by its ensemble cast are stellar, too, especially those of Arkin, who turns in some of his best work as the wise-cracking producer, and Affleck, who successfully resists his usual temptation to mug for the camera and gives one of the most mature portrayals of his career.
However, if, like me, you’re a stickler for authenticity, you’ll likely come away from this film disappointed. In addition to its historical narrative problems, “Argo” also suffers from extreme mood changes that don’t mesh well with one another. The tension generated by the dramatic segments set in Tehran and Washington contrasts sharply with the more light-hearted humorous sequences shot in Hollywood. Each is done well by itself, but, regrettably, they don’t integrate effectively. Admittedly, successfully fusing life in two very different worlds is a challenging undertaking, but it can be done, as was the case, for example, in “The Crying Game” (1992). “Argo,” unfortunately, doesn’t measure up in this regard.
Most critics have been favorably impressed with this offering, and the picture has received considerable awards season buzz. But, considering both the film’s strengths and shortcomings, it’s hard to say exactly how truly deserving it is of the praise it has received. In the end, it all probably depends on one’s expectations. And that’s the truth.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Creation's Yardstick
What's the true measure of our success? Find out by reading my latest Master Heart Magazine post, Abundance: Creation's Yardstick, available by clicking here.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Ambitious but mediocre ‘Master’ leaves viewers wanting
“The Master” (2012). Cast: Joaquin Phoenix, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Adams, Laura Dern, Jesse Plemons, Ambyr Childers, Rami Malek, Madisen Beaty, Kevin J. O’Connor, Patty McCormack, Christopher Evan Welch. Director: Paul Thomas Anderson. Screenplay: Paul Thomas Anderson. www.themasterfilm.com/
Getting a handle on that which does not serve us is one of the greatest personal growth challenges that many of us will face in life. Achieving control over such matters often pushes us to take steps we never thought ourselves capable of, a journey that often includes both victories and setbacks on our way to attaining proficiency. One man’s search for that goal is the subject of one of this year’s most anticipated releases, director Paul Thomas Anderson’s “The Master.”
Navy veteran Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) has many challenges upon returning home from World War II. While the specifics of his military service go undisclosed, it becomes apparent during his reorientation sessions with Veterans Administration psychiatrists that he witnessed some gruesome sights that seriously affected his mental state. Of course, Freddie’s psyche wasn’t in the greatest shape when he went off to war; his childhood was characterized by an absent father and an institutionalized mother, and as an adult he was infatuated with a bright but underage romantic interest (Madisen Beaty). This combination of experiences has led to Freddie becoming something of a social misfit, one who routinely partakes in excessive drinking (including concoctions that contain alcohol mixed with various industrial chemicals), inappropriate sexual advances and unprovoked violent outbursts. He also drifts from job to job, doing stints as a department store portrait photographer and as a seasonal farm worker, positions that invariably end in failure.
Freddie’s life takes an unusual and unexpected turn, however, when, upon fleeing one of his failed jobs, he inadvertently winds up as a stowaway aboard a ship carrying the followers of an enigmatic religious movement known as “the Cause.” Heading up this band of latter-day disciples is its charismatic leader, writer/philosopher/physicist Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman), who is more fondly known as “the Master.” Despite Freddie’s stowaway status, the Master is quite taken by his mysterious uninvited passenger, particularly for the inebriating potions he creates, a talent that keeps Freddie in his host’s good graces.
Of course, Freddie’s pardon comes at a cost; he becomes an unwitting apostle of the Cause, a belief system that incorporates a wide array of concepts and philosophies (many of them cryptic) that only the Master and his quietly controlling wife, Peggy (Amy Adams), seem to fully understand. But then that shouldn’t really come as a surprise, mainly because the movement’s teachings, as implemented, are aimed more at manipulating followers than offering them genuine salvation, circumstances that make gullible or challenged aspirants, like Freddie, easy targets for exploitation.
As time passes, however, the Cause experiences its own share of problems – accusations of embezzlement and mind control, as well as allegations of intimidation and strong-arm retaliation against its detractors (facilitated by goon squads led by blinded followers like Freddie, who willingly volunteer for such tasks, and even initiate such behavior, to stay in favor with the Master). With the world seemingly closing in on them, the movement’s leaders take to the road, in part to spread the word to the uninitiated but also in hopes of avoiding prosecution, a journey that takes them to New York, Philadelphia, Phoenix and England. But, as the Cause comes under increased scrutiny and once-loyal parishioners (Patty McCormack, Laura Dern) begin to abandon their faith, its leadership and doctrines grow progressively inflexible, even dogmatic. Eventually even Freddie falls victim to the tactics that the Cause employs to silence its critics and that the Master uses to get his way.
Will Freddie succumb, or will he rise above the ordeals inflicted upon him? But, perhaps even more importantly, will he at last become the master of his own destiny, or will he allow his personal demons and their minions to continue ravaging his mind, body and soul?
As movies go, “The Master” is quite an ambitious undertaking. In addition to telling its story, the film attempts to cover a lot of metaphysical territory through its narrative. For instance, one of core teachings of the Cause is that we are all imperfect beings capable of rising up above our animal natures by getting clear about ourselves and our beliefs and taking actions that help us overcome personal limitations, thereby enabling personal growth. The Cause further maintains that many of these personal hindrances stem from reincarnational baggage that we carry with us from lifetime to lifetime and that their resolution inevitably permits our forward progress.
Those who have studied conscious creation will no doubt recognize the parallels between this philosophy and the core principle of the Cause, that rewriting our beliefs is key to transcending our personal limitations. What’s more, anyone who has examined the doctrines of Eastern religions or the works of Edgar Cayce will see the karmic past life parallels between those disciplines and comparable teachings of the Cause. And both of these notions, when considered on a rudimentary level, certainly seem reasonable enough to lend credence to the principles behind the Cause.
However, as in any belief system, when the core concepts become wrapped up in scripture, ritual and protocol, the central message tends to become lost amidst the trappings of the structures built up around it. What arguably began with the best of intentions evolves into an institution more preoccupied with its own self-preservation than with offering meaningful, helpful advice to its followers. Dogma sets in, and, when allowed to run unchecked, the institution deteriorates into a cult, where its members are kept in line with threats, coercion and intimidation.
To that end, “The Master” does an excellent job in portraying the danger inherent in this. When a philosophical/spiritual system allows its followers the freedom to make their own choices, it serves to empower them and enable personal growth. But when it degenerates into a rigid institution driven by considerations of personality, protocol and self-perpetuation, it becomes a potentially grave influence, a serious threat to one’s own self-determination and well-being.
Of course, as conscious creators readily maintain, we each create our own reality, for better or worse, so, if one materializes such circumstances in one’s life, it’s a manifestation that arises from one’s own hand (or, more accurately, from one’s own mind). Why someone might do so would seem to defy logic, reason or even prudent judgment, but then we all have our own personal reasons for why we manifest what we do. The challenge for us is recognizing the underlying basis for doing so and determining what to do about it going forward. Such thinking, at a core level, is once again in line with the teachings of the Cause. But when that thinking becomes obscured by the dogmatic fog typically associated with a cult (as depicted here), we run the risk of the revelations about our personal manifestations remaining hidden, either longer than necessary or perhaps even indefinitely.
One plausible explanation why outcasts like Freddie would create the difficult circumstances they experience is the need to learn lessons in mastery and control (especially self-control). Freddie’s example, for instance, effectively illustrates an individual’s creation of conditions that make it possible to acquire skills in mastering and controlling one’s urges (which, in Freddie’s case, take many forms). It’s also understandable, under such circumstances, how he would be drawn to an organization and a mentor who embody the journey involved in fulfilling those aspirations. His manifestation may not be without its added challenges (such as the Cause’s coercive and manipulative mind control tactics), but then that could all be part of what Freddie is ultimately seeking to achieve – mastery and control over his existence that comes from his own efforts and not the prescribed insistence of others.
In this regard, Freddie’s hoped-for goals must originate with him, not with some “outside” influence, be it an individual, organization or philosophy. It’s easy to see how he might be drawn to such influences, given his traumatic childhood (he’s obviously looking for the “family” he never had, a theme common in many of Anderson’s films) and the disturbing wartime events he recently witnessed (travesties that no doubt prompted a personal search for meaning, the kind that one might hope to find through an institution like a religious organization). But, no matter what semblance of assistance these influences might appear to provide, they ultimately fall short of the target. (Freddie even receives clues about this, such as through comments about the Cause from the Master’s son, Val (Jesse Plemons), who freely observes that his father “is making it all up as he goes along.”) In the end, then, Freddie’s search for gaining control over his life ultimately rests with him; he must assert his own individuality and do his own work, no matter how difficult that may prove to be.
From the foregoing, one might be led to believe that “The Master” is a treasure trove of metaphysical wisdom in both enlightening and cautionary ways. And, given the considerable early awards season buzz it has been receiving (thanks to lavish critical praise and film festival wins), one might think it to be epic cinema. However, for all its noble intents, the film, unfortunately, comes up short, and that’s mainly due to its writing. The picture’s nuggets of insight (and there are many of them) are often eclipsed by a meandering screenplay and a number of underdeveloped subplots, such as the struggle between Freddie and the Master for dominance in their relationship (one that incorporates elements running the gamut from father-son dynamics to unexplored homoeroticism) and Peggy’s control freak tendencies in both marital and institutional affairs. Events tend to become repetitive, too (one can only watch Freddie’s unpredictable tirades so many times before they begin to lose their impact). There are also many less-than-veiled allusions to the back story supposedly behind the establishment of a contemporary religious movement, many of which arise seemingly inexplicably and only serve to blur the script’s focus even further.
Nevertheless, in spite of these shortcomings, the film features a number of superb performances (especially Hoffman and Adams), as well as visually stunning cinematography and a hauntingly beautiful soundtrack. It also brilliantly captures the look and feel of early 1950s America through its top-notch art direction, set design and costuming.
In all fairness, “The Master” is an impressive piece of filmmaking, even if its execution could have been handled better. Some have even contended that its “scattered” approach is intentional, reinforcing its message of the need for each of us to find our own path in learning how to achieve mastery and control in our lives. I suppose there’s some merit to that, though, to me, that sounds more like rationalization than rationale. Had the filmmakers focused their efforts more effectively, they might have ended up with a picture that genuinely lived up to its billing – and its title.
Copyright © 2012, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Getting a handle on that which does not serve us is one of the greatest personal growth challenges that many of us will face in life. Achieving control over such matters often pushes us to take steps we never thought ourselves capable of, a journey that often includes both victories and setbacks on our way to attaining proficiency. One man’s search for that goal is the subject of one of this year’s most anticipated releases, director Paul Thomas Anderson’s “The Master.”
Navy veteran Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) has many challenges upon returning home from World War II. While the specifics of his military service go undisclosed, it becomes apparent during his reorientation sessions with Veterans Administration psychiatrists that he witnessed some gruesome sights that seriously affected his mental state. Of course, Freddie’s psyche wasn’t in the greatest shape when he went off to war; his childhood was characterized by an absent father and an institutionalized mother, and as an adult he was infatuated with a bright but underage romantic interest (Madisen Beaty). This combination of experiences has led to Freddie becoming something of a social misfit, one who routinely partakes in excessive drinking (including concoctions that contain alcohol mixed with various industrial chemicals), inappropriate sexual advances and unprovoked violent outbursts. He also drifts from job to job, doing stints as a department store portrait photographer and as a seasonal farm worker, positions that invariably end in failure.
Freddie’s life takes an unusual and unexpected turn, however, when, upon fleeing one of his failed jobs, he inadvertently winds up as a stowaway aboard a ship carrying the followers of an enigmatic religious movement known as “the Cause.” Heading up this band of latter-day disciples is its charismatic leader, writer/philosopher/physicist Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman), who is more fondly known as “the Master.” Despite Freddie’s stowaway status, the Master is quite taken by his mysterious uninvited passenger, particularly for the inebriating potions he creates, a talent that keeps Freddie in his host’s good graces.
Of course, Freddie’s pardon comes at a cost; he becomes an unwitting apostle of the Cause, a belief system that incorporates a wide array of concepts and philosophies (many of them cryptic) that only the Master and his quietly controlling wife, Peggy (Amy Adams), seem to fully understand. But then that shouldn’t really come as a surprise, mainly because the movement’s teachings, as implemented, are aimed more at manipulating followers than offering them genuine salvation, circumstances that make gullible or challenged aspirants, like Freddie, easy targets for exploitation.
As time passes, however, the Cause experiences its own share of problems – accusations of embezzlement and mind control, as well as allegations of intimidation and strong-arm retaliation against its detractors (facilitated by goon squads led by blinded followers like Freddie, who willingly volunteer for such tasks, and even initiate such behavior, to stay in favor with the Master). With the world seemingly closing in on them, the movement’s leaders take to the road, in part to spread the word to the uninitiated but also in hopes of avoiding prosecution, a journey that takes them to New York, Philadelphia, Phoenix and England. But, as the Cause comes under increased scrutiny and once-loyal parishioners (Patty McCormack, Laura Dern) begin to abandon their faith, its leadership and doctrines grow progressively inflexible, even dogmatic. Eventually even Freddie falls victim to the tactics that the Cause employs to silence its critics and that the Master uses to get his way.
Will Freddie succumb, or will he rise above the ordeals inflicted upon him? But, perhaps even more importantly, will he at last become the master of his own destiny, or will he allow his personal demons and their minions to continue ravaging his mind, body and soul?
As movies go, “The Master” is quite an ambitious undertaking. In addition to telling its story, the film attempts to cover a lot of metaphysical territory through its narrative. For instance, one of core teachings of the Cause is that we are all imperfect beings capable of rising up above our animal natures by getting clear about ourselves and our beliefs and taking actions that help us overcome personal limitations, thereby enabling personal growth. The Cause further maintains that many of these personal hindrances stem from reincarnational baggage that we carry with us from lifetime to lifetime and that their resolution inevitably permits our forward progress.
Those who have studied conscious creation will no doubt recognize the parallels between this philosophy and the core principle of the Cause, that rewriting our beliefs is key to transcending our personal limitations. What’s more, anyone who has examined the doctrines of Eastern religions or the works of Edgar Cayce will see the karmic past life parallels between those disciplines and comparable teachings of the Cause. And both of these notions, when considered on a rudimentary level, certainly seem reasonable enough to lend credence to the principles behind the Cause.
However, as in any belief system, when the core concepts become wrapped up in scripture, ritual and protocol, the central message tends to become lost amidst the trappings of the structures built up around it. What arguably began with the best of intentions evolves into an institution more preoccupied with its own self-preservation than with offering meaningful, helpful advice to its followers. Dogma sets in, and, when allowed to run unchecked, the institution deteriorates into a cult, where its members are kept in line with threats, coercion and intimidation.
To that end, “The Master” does an excellent job in portraying the danger inherent in this. When a philosophical/spiritual system allows its followers the freedom to make their own choices, it serves to empower them and enable personal growth. But when it degenerates into a rigid institution driven by considerations of personality, protocol and self-perpetuation, it becomes a potentially grave influence, a serious threat to one’s own self-determination and well-being.
Of course, as conscious creators readily maintain, we each create our own reality, for better or worse, so, if one materializes such circumstances in one’s life, it’s a manifestation that arises from one’s own hand (or, more accurately, from one’s own mind). Why someone might do so would seem to defy logic, reason or even prudent judgment, but then we all have our own personal reasons for why we manifest what we do. The challenge for us is recognizing the underlying basis for doing so and determining what to do about it going forward. Such thinking, at a core level, is once again in line with the teachings of the Cause. But when that thinking becomes obscured by the dogmatic fog typically associated with a cult (as depicted here), we run the risk of the revelations about our personal manifestations remaining hidden, either longer than necessary or perhaps even indefinitely.
One plausible explanation why outcasts like Freddie would create the difficult circumstances they experience is the need to learn lessons in mastery and control (especially self-control). Freddie’s example, for instance, effectively illustrates an individual’s creation of conditions that make it possible to acquire skills in mastering and controlling one’s urges (which, in Freddie’s case, take many forms). It’s also understandable, under such circumstances, how he would be drawn to an organization and a mentor who embody the journey involved in fulfilling those aspirations. His manifestation may not be without its added challenges (such as the Cause’s coercive and manipulative mind control tactics), but then that could all be part of what Freddie is ultimately seeking to achieve – mastery and control over his existence that comes from his own efforts and not the prescribed insistence of others.
In this regard, Freddie’s hoped-for goals must originate with him, not with some “outside” influence, be it an individual, organization or philosophy. It’s easy to see how he might be drawn to such influences, given his traumatic childhood (he’s obviously looking for the “family” he never had, a theme common in many of Anderson’s films) and the disturbing wartime events he recently witnessed (travesties that no doubt prompted a personal search for meaning, the kind that one might hope to find through an institution like a religious organization). But, no matter what semblance of assistance these influences might appear to provide, they ultimately fall short of the target. (Freddie even receives clues about this, such as through comments about the Cause from the Master’s son, Val (Jesse Plemons), who freely observes that his father “is making it all up as he goes along.”) In the end, then, Freddie’s search for gaining control over his life ultimately rests with him; he must assert his own individuality and do his own work, no matter how difficult that may prove to be.
From the foregoing, one might be led to believe that “The Master” is a treasure trove of metaphysical wisdom in both enlightening and cautionary ways. And, given the considerable early awards season buzz it has been receiving (thanks to lavish critical praise and film festival wins), one might think it to be epic cinema. However, for all its noble intents, the film, unfortunately, comes up short, and that’s mainly due to its writing. The picture’s nuggets of insight (and there are many of them) are often eclipsed by a meandering screenplay and a number of underdeveloped subplots, such as the struggle between Freddie and the Master for dominance in their relationship (one that incorporates elements running the gamut from father-son dynamics to unexplored homoeroticism) and Peggy’s control freak tendencies in both marital and institutional affairs. Events tend to become repetitive, too (one can only watch Freddie’s unpredictable tirades so many times before they begin to lose their impact). There are also many less-than-veiled allusions to the back story supposedly behind the establishment of a contemporary religious movement, many of which arise seemingly inexplicably and only serve to blur the script’s focus even further.
Nevertheless, in spite of these shortcomings, the film features a number of superb performances (especially Hoffman and Adams), as well as visually stunning cinematography and a hauntingly beautiful soundtrack. It also brilliantly captures the look and feel of early 1950s America through its top-notch art direction, set design and costuming.
In all fairness, “The Master” is an impressive piece of filmmaking, even if its execution could have been handled better. Some have even contended that its “scattered” approach is intentional, reinforcing its message of the need for each of us to find our own path in learning how to achieve mastery and control in our lives. I suppose there’s some merit to that, though, to me, that sounds more like rationalization than rationale. Had the filmmakers focused their efforts more effectively, they might have ended up with a picture that genuinely lived up to its billing – and its title.
Copyright © 2012, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Worthiness Begins at Home
What do you feel you deserve out of life? Ultimately, it comes down to what each of us believes about that. To find out more, read Worthiness Begins at Home, my latest Master Heart Magazine post, available by clicking here.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Beauty, Power and Glory
What a wonderful world we live in! Read more about it in 'Samsara' celebrates the beauty, power, glory of creation, my latest VividLife post, available by clicking here. And to find out more about the film, click here.
Photo courtesy of Oscilloscope Laboratories.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Trust and Sentience
What, exactly, constitutes sentience? And can we "trust" it? Those are some of the issues raised in my latest VividLife post, 'Robot & Frank" explores memory, consciousness, available by clicking here. And to find out more about the movie, click here.
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