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.
Friday, December 13, 2013
Beliefs, self-discovery take center stage in ‘Philomena’
“Philomena” (2013). Cast: Judi Dench, Steve Coogan, Sophie Kennedy Clark, Mare Winningham, Barbara Jefford, Ruth McCabe, Peter Hermann, Sean Mahon, Anna Maxwell Martin, Michelle Fairley, Charlie Murphy, Cathy Belton, Wunmi Mosaku, Kate Fleetwood, Tadhg Bowen, Saoirse Bowen. Director: Stephen Frears. Screenplay: Steve Coogan and Jeff Pope. Book: Martin Sixsmith, The Lost Child of Philomena Lee. Web site. Trailer.
When we go looking for something, sometimes we find more than we anticipated. Searches driven by heartfelt, introspective concerns in particular often lead us to unexpected revelations and discoveries. Such is the case for an unlikely duo in the touching, fact-based comedy-drama, “Philomena.”
Philomena Lee (Judi Dench), a retired nurse living in London, harbors a painful secret, and she desperately desires to unburden herself. That opportunity finally comes on what would have been the 50th anniversary of a significant, though closely guarded event in her life – the birth of her son out of wedlock in the seclusion of an Irish convent. It was an incident that, at the time, was looked upon as nothing short of an eternal damnation sentence, at least in the eyes of the Church and its sanctimonious minions, most notably Mother Barbara (Ruth McCabe) and her relentless attack dog, Sister Hildegarde (Kate Fleetwood).
As penance for her “sin” (and in reparation for the discreet care she received from the Sisters), the young Philomena (Sophie Kennedy Clark) was required to spend four years working at the convent, performing chores for no money under the ever-watchful eye of the nuns. She had few pleasures in her life and even fewer allies, though she could always count on the support of her best friend, Kathleen (Charlie Murphy). She also took great pleasure in being able to spend a little time each day with her son, Anthony (Tadhg Bowen), a happy little lad who was highly protective of, and virtually inseparable from, Kathleen’s young daughter, Mary (Saoirse Bowen).
But, despite these small joys, Philomena, Kathleen and the other unwed mothers all had a perpetual threat hanging over them – the prospect that their children could be taken away at any time by would-be adoptive parents with deep pockets. When that fate unexpectedly befell Philomena, she was devastated. Her only remembrance of Anthony was a single photograph that had been clandestinely slipped to her by one of the more compassionate Sisters. And it was all she would ever have, even 50 years later.
Philomena long wondered what happened to her little boy. When she finally works up the nerve to reveal her secret to her adult daughter, Jane (Anna Maxwell Martin), she explains how desperate she is to know that Anthony grew up safe and sound. She even expresses hope that she might meet him somehow, despite the odds against that. As a concerned daughter, Jane wants to help her mother in any way that she can, and, fortunately, a highly fortuitous synchronicity presents itself shortly thereafter.
While attending a cocktail party, Jane meets Martin Sixsmith (Steve Coogan), a one-time BBC reporter and former government communications director who left office after becoming embroiled in a scandal involving a very public (and very embarrassing) news leak. With no job and no clear career path, Martin has been floundering about, futilely searching for his next journalism gig. That soon changes, however, when Jane and Martin cross paths. She pitches him on the idea of writing a story about her mother’s plight. As a former foreign affairs correspondent, he’s initially reluctant, claiming he doesn’t write human interest stories. But, once he’s introduced to another party guest, Sally Mitchell (Michelle Fairley), an editor always on the lookout for noteworthy stories to publish (especially from writers with high-profile pedigrees), Jane’s proposal suddenly doesn’t seem quite so far-fetched.
Before long, Jane arranges a meeting between Philomena and Martin. The unlikely duo seems a decidedly mismatched pair to embark on such an ambitious undertaking, especially since Philomena has precious little to offer Martin in helping him find her son. But, given that he’s in need of a job and having been effectively swayed by his subject’s touching story, Martin decides to forge ahead with the assignment. Thus begins the saga of an intrepid reporter and a heartbroken mother to locate her long-lost son, an odyssey that ends up spanning two continents and taking the determined investigators on a journey filled with numerous twists and turns.
Thematically speaking, the film’s greatest strength rests with its exploration of our ability to control our beliefs – or to let them control us. Whichever of these choices we make subsequently affects the nature of the reality we experience as conscious creators. This is particularly true with religious-based beliefs and how we allow them (or don’t allow them) to help shape the manifestations that comprise our everyday lives.
It’s especially interesting to see how this plays out with the two protagonists, both of whom were raised Roman Catholic. For Martin, a recovering practitioner, he’ll have no part of the Church’s seemingly arbitrary and capricious dictates about how we must live our daily lives. He wants nothing to do with the subjective commandments that it routinely and dogmatically passes off as unquestionable, absolute truths. Consequently, he frames his thoughts and creates a reality based on beliefs driven by rational, logical notions, those that can be “proven” only with substantive, evidentiary facts. In doing this, however, he also tends to throw out the baby with the bath water, giving short shrift to whatever beneficial teachings the Church might have to offer, something about which he periodically needs to be reminded.
Philomena, by contrast, was raised a good Catholic girl, one who dutifully abided by its decrees, even if they caused her personal anguish, pain and suffering. However, she also couldn’t help but quietly question much of what she was taught to believe. For instance, the Church made it abundantly clear that sex was something dirty and sinful, yet Philomena pondered why God would give us something so eminently pleasurable if it was meant to be viewed in such a wholly negative light. And, if the Church could get something like that wrong, she wondered, what else might it have erred about? For example, was it really necessary for Anthony’s disposition to be handled as it was? Or were other, equally viable options available that weren’t offered to her? But, whenever such radical thoughts would arise, the beliefs premised on all those threatening old lessons would come racing back to her, quickly quelling such upstart, “unacceptable” notions.
The net effect of all this was to leave Philomena perpetually conflicted. Did she do the right thing by letting the Sisters handle Anthony’s circumstances as they did? Or should she have cast aside those beliefs and taken a more proactive approach to things? The doubt that lingered for half a century tortured her terribly, which is why she eventually had to find out what happened to her son if she were ever to have any peace of mind – not only with regard to how she handled herself, but also with respect to her feelings about those who handled matters for her.
Of course, Philomena’s story also shines a light on the intents behind the beliefs being put forth by the Church, both as teachings to its followers and as the means of creating the institution’s reality. One can’t help but ask why did the Sisters do what they did? Were their beliefs driven by compassion and the well-being of those they cared for, or was there something more self-serving involved? That’s something Martin and Philomena must wrestle with as their investigation unfolds, both in terms of what actually happened and how those events are to be reconciled with their personal beliefs.
In reaching the answers they seek, Philomena and Martin frequently find themselves following hunches, those intuitive flashes that sometimes seem illogical but that often lead to remarkable revelations and starling synchronicities. For Philomena, a woman of faith, this isn’t as much of a stretch as it is for Martin, a man of reason, who is nearly always astounded whenever such discoveries make themselves apparent. By readily drawing upon this faculty, both protagonists are able to sharpen the clarity of their beliefs and the effectiveness of their conscious creation skills to reach the objectives they seek to fulfill. It’s an example we’d be wise to follow, too, especially for those of us seeking to improve our manifestation proficiency.
Through their amazing odyssey together, Philomena and Martin eventually reach their goal, but what they find may not be what they (or audiences) had envisioned at the outset of their journey. In arriving at what they’re looking for, they discover much more than the specific answers they initially sought; they also discover parts of themselves they never knew existed. In that sense, the journey to find Anthony is just as much a journey for them to find Philomena and Martin as well. It’s quite astounding how the quest for fulfilling a particular objective ends up revealing others that we never knew we were meant to go looking for. But a process such as this often brings us face to face with the beliefs that not only created the circumstances in question but that also helped to shape our overall existence and being – including those parts of ourselves that we never knew existed but were ultimately meant to find.
On its surface, “Philomena” might seem like a formula feel-good movie, but it’s much more than that. In many ways it’s a mystery, a road trip story and an unconventional buddy flick, one that’s delightfully warm and touching but filled with a delicious sense of unpredictability. Credit director Stephen Frears for a deft touch in his handling of the material and the superb writing of screenwriters Coogan and Jeff Pope for delivering an affecting, humorous, heartfelt script. But, most of all, give major kudos to the superb performances of Dench and Coogan, who are terrific individually and together. Dench’s portrayal is already chalking up considerable awards season buzz, and she’s deserving of every bit of attention she receives, including her recent nominations as best lead actress in the Golden Globe and Screen Actors Guild Award competitions. The film has also received Golden Globe nominations for best dramatic picture and best screenplay.
It’s been said that, in finding others, we find ourselves. Given their journey together, Philomena and Martin can certainly attest to the truth of that, and the film that tells their story brings it to life for all to see. May we all one day be so fortunate to have such an enlightening experience.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
When we go looking for something, sometimes we find more than we anticipated. Searches driven by heartfelt, introspective concerns in particular often lead us to unexpected revelations and discoveries. Such is the case for an unlikely duo in the touching, fact-based comedy-drama, “Philomena.”
Philomena Lee (Judi Dench), a retired nurse living in London, harbors a painful secret, and she desperately desires to unburden herself. That opportunity finally comes on what would have been the 50th anniversary of a significant, though closely guarded event in her life – the birth of her son out of wedlock in the seclusion of an Irish convent. It was an incident that, at the time, was looked upon as nothing short of an eternal damnation sentence, at least in the eyes of the Church and its sanctimonious minions, most notably Mother Barbara (Ruth McCabe) and her relentless attack dog, Sister Hildegarde (Kate Fleetwood).
As penance for her “sin” (and in reparation for the discreet care she received from the Sisters), the young Philomena (Sophie Kennedy Clark) was required to spend four years working at the convent, performing chores for no money under the ever-watchful eye of the nuns. She had few pleasures in her life and even fewer allies, though she could always count on the support of her best friend, Kathleen (Charlie Murphy). She also took great pleasure in being able to spend a little time each day with her son, Anthony (Tadhg Bowen), a happy little lad who was highly protective of, and virtually inseparable from, Kathleen’s young daughter, Mary (Saoirse Bowen).
But, despite these small joys, Philomena, Kathleen and the other unwed mothers all had a perpetual threat hanging over them – the prospect that their children could be taken away at any time by would-be adoptive parents with deep pockets. When that fate unexpectedly befell Philomena, she was devastated. Her only remembrance of Anthony was a single photograph that had been clandestinely slipped to her by one of the more compassionate Sisters. And it was all she would ever have, even 50 years later.
Philomena long wondered what happened to her little boy. When she finally works up the nerve to reveal her secret to her adult daughter, Jane (Anna Maxwell Martin), she explains how desperate she is to know that Anthony grew up safe and sound. She even expresses hope that she might meet him somehow, despite the odds against that. As a concerned daughter, Jane wants to help her mother in any way that she can, and, fortunately, a highly fortuitous synchronicity presents itself shortly thereafter.
While attending a cocktail party, Jane meets Martin Sixsmith (Steve Coogan), a one-time BBC reporter and former government communications director who left office after becoming embroiled in a scandal involving a very public (and very embarrassing) news leak. With no job and no clear career path, Martin has been floundering about, futilely searching for his next journalism gig. That soon changes, however, when Jane and Martin cross paths. She pitches him on the idea of writing a story about her mother’s plight. As a former foreign affairs correspondent, he’s initially reluctant, claiming he doesn’t write human interest stories. But, once he’s introduced to another party guest, Sally Mitchell (Michelle Fairley), an editor always on the lookout for noteworthy stories to publish (especially from writers with high-profile pedigrees), Jane’s proposal suddenly doesn’t seem quite so far-fetched.
Before long, Jane arranges a meeting between Philomena and Martin. The unlikely duo seems a decidedly mismatched pair to embark on such an ambitious undertaking, especially since Philomena has precious little to offer Martin in helping him find her son. But, given that he’s in need of a job and having been effectively swayed by his subject’s touching story, Martin decides to forge ahead with the assignment. Thus begins the saga of an intrepid reporter and a heartbroken mother to locate her long-lost son, an odyssey that ends up spanning two continents and taking the determined investigators on a journey filled with numerous twists and turns.
Thematically speaking, the film’s greatest strength rests with its exploration of our ability to control our beliefs – or to let them control us. Whichever of these choices we make subsequently affects the nature of the reality we experience as conscious creators. This is particularly true with religious-based beliefs and how we allow them (or don’t allow them) to help shape the manifestations that comprise our everyday lives.
It’s especially interesting to see how this plays out with the two protagonists, both of whom were raised Roman Catholic. For Martin, a recovering practitioner, he’ll have no part of the Church’s seemingly arbitrary and capricious dictates about how we must live our daily lives. He wants nothing to do with the subjective commandments that it routinely and dogmatically passes off as unquestionable, absolute truths. Consequently, he frames his thoughts and creates a reality based on beliefs driven by rational, logical notions, those that can be “proven” only with substantive, evidentiary facts. In doing this, however, he also tends to throw out the baby with the bath water, giving short shrift to whatever beneficial teachings the Church might have to offer, something about which he periodically needs to be reminded.
Philomena, by contrast, was raised a good Catholic girl, one who dutifully abided by its decrees, even if they caused her personal anguish, pain and suffering. However, she also couldn’t help but quietly question much of what she was taught to believe. For instance, the Church made it abundantly clear that sex was something dirty and sinful, yet Philomena pondered why God would give us something so eminently pleasurable if it was meant to be viewed in such a wholly negative light. And, if the Church could get something like that wrong, she wondered, what else might it have erred about? For example, was it really necessary for Anthony’s disposition to be handled as it was? Or were other, equally viable options available that weren’t offered to her? But, whenever such radical thoughts would arise, the beliefs premised on all those threatening old lessons would come racing back to her, quickly quelling such upstart, “unacceptable” notions.
The net effect of all this was to leave Philomena perpetually conflicted. Did she do the right thing by letting the Sisters handle Anthony’s circumstances as they did? Or should she have cast aside those beliefs and taken a more proactive approach to things? The doubt that lingered for half a century tortured her terribly, which is why she eventually had to find out what happened to her son if she were ever to have any peace of mind – not only with regard to how she handled herself, but also with respect to her feelings about those who handled matters for her.
Of course, Philomena’s story also shines a light on the intents behind the beliefs being put forth by the Church, both as teachings to its followers and as the means of creating the institution’s reality. One can’t help but ask why did the Sisters do what they did? Were their beliefs driven by compassion and the well-being of those they cared for, or was there something more self-serving involved? That’s something Martin and Philomena must wrestle with as their investigation unfolds, both in terms of what actually happened and how those events are to be reconciled with their personal beliefs.
In reaching the answers they seek, Philomena and Martin frequently find themselves following hunches, those intuitive flashes that sometimes seem illogical but that often lead to remarkable revelations and starling synchronicities. For Philomena, a woman of faith, this isn’t as much of a stretch as it is for Martin, a man of reason, who is nearly always astounded whenever such discoveries make themselves apparent. By readily drawing upon this faculty, both protagonists are able to sharpen the clarity of their beliefs and the effectiveness of their conscious creation skills to reach the objectives they seek to fulfill. It’s an example we’d be wise to follow, too, especially for those of us seeking to improve our manifestation proficiency.
Through their amazing odyssey together, Philomena and Martin eventually reach their goal, but what they find may not be what they (or audiences) had envisioned at the outset of their journey. In arriving at what they’re looking for, they discover much more than the specific answers they initially sought; they also discover parts of themselves they never knew existed. In that sense, the journey to find Anthony is just as much a journey for them to find Philomena and Martin as well. It’s quite astounding how the quest for fulfilling a particular objective ends up revealing others that we never knew we were meant to go looking for. But a process such as this often brings us face to face with the beliefs that not only created the circumstances in question but that also helped to shape our overall existence and being – including those parts of ourselves that we never knew existed but were ultimately meant to find.
On its surface, “Philomena” might seem like a formula feel-good movie, but it’s much more than that. In many ways it’s a mystery, a road trip story and an unconventional buddy flick, one that’s delightfully warm and touching but filled with a delicious sense of unpredictability. Credit director Stephen Frears for a deft touch in his handling of the material and the superb writing of screenwriters Coogan and Jeff Pope for delivering an affecting, humorous, heartfelt script. But, most of all, give major kudos to the superb performances of Dench and Coogan, who are terrific individually and together. Dench’s portrayal is already chalking up considerable awards season buzz, and she’s deserving of every bit of attention she receives, including her recent nominations as best lead actress in the Golden Globe and Screen Actors Guild Award competitions. The film has also received Golden Globe nominations for best dramatic picture and best screenplay.
It’s been said that, in finding others, we find ourselves. Given their journey together, Philomena and Martin can certainly attest to the truth of that, and the film that tells their story brings it to life for all to see. May we all one day be so fortunate to have such an enlightening experience.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Thursday, December 12, 2013
An Additional Web Site for My Work!
I'm pleased to announce an addition to the family of web sites featuring my online writings. You can now find my works posted to the web site of the Smart Women's Empowerment program, available at www.smartwomensempowerment.org. The first of my contributions has been posted, and others will follow soon. Stop by and give a look to my posts, as well as those of the many other fine experts featured there!
Friday, November 29, 2013
‘Nebraska’ urges us to honor our connections
“Nebraska” (2013). Cast: Bruce Dern, Will Forte, June Squibb, Bob Odenkirk, Stacy Keach, Mary Louise Wilson, Rance Howard, Tim Driscoll, Devin Ratray, Angela McEwan. Director: Alexander Payne. Screenplay: Bob Nelson. Web site. Trailer.
It’s easy to take our world for granted. In fact, sometimes we can even lose sight of what connects us to it and everything that makes up its being. But what do we lose when we embrace such an aloof, disconnected outlook? Arguably, it could be far more than we realize, and getting it back may be more difficult than we can imagine. Such is the challenge put to the protagonists in the offbeat new comedy-drama, “Nebraska.”
Woody Grant (Bruce Dern) is a man on a mission. The retired septuagenarian auto mechanic is determined, one way or another, to make his way from his home in Billings, Montana to Lincoln, Nebraska. The reason? Thanks to a promotional mailing he received, Woody’s convinced he’s won $1 million in a sweepstakes sponsored by a magazine sales company. And, since he doesn’t trust the U.S. Postal Service to promptly deliver his reply form, he’s resolved to collect his money in person – even if it means walking all the way there. Woody believes there’s too much at stake to leave matters to chance.
Woody’s family, meanwhile, is justifiably concerned. His wife, Kate (June Squibb), and his sons, David (Will Forte) and Ross (Bob Odenkirk), worry about their stubborn relation. Woody’s alcoholic tendencies, coupled with intermittent bouts of dementia and periodic mobility issues, make him a disaster waiting to happen when left to his own devices. And then there’s Woody’s naïveté about the sweepstakes; Kate and the boys believe Woody will be crushed when he discovers the truth about its misleading nature. But, no matter what they do to keep him in line, there’s simply no deterring Woody from fulfilling his quest.
Woody is so headstrong about his objective that he’s even made plans for how to spend the money. He wants to buy a new pickup truck (even though he no longer drives) and a new auto body painting compressor to replace the one that he believes his former business partner, Ed Pegram (Stacy Keach), stole from him years before (even though they’re no longer in business together). And, even though Kate, David and Ross fail to understand the importance of these seemingly trivial material possessions, they nevertheless matter to Woody, and he’s hell-bent on getting them, regardless of what it takes.
To assuage the old man’s feelings (and to keep him from hurting himself), David agrees to drive Woody from Billings to Lincoln. But, given Woody’s obstinate behavior, their journey together proves to be almost as challenging as if the family had let him go on his own. David hopes that will change, however, when he and Woody make a stopover in dad’s hometown of Hawthorne, Nebraska. David crosses his fingers that the once-familiar surroundings and a reunion with long-unseen relatives will put his father’s mind at ease, quelling thoughts about his foolish obsession. But, when they arrive at Woody’s old haunts, nothing could be further from the truth.
When word of Woody’s alleged fortune spreads throughout Hawthorne, anyone who ever knew him tries to cash in on his supposed new wealth. David is appalled that everyone (including family members) would try to unabashedly take advantage of a feeble, mentally challenged old man. And, for his part, Woody is so clueless about the intentions of the circling vultures that he even expresses an interest in helping them out. With matters quickly spinning out of control, the inevitable disappointment awaiting Woody and David in Lincoln suddenly seems far preferable by comparison.
It’s painfully obvious that Woody is a disconnected soul. He’s quite comfortable being a recluse, frequently venturing off on his own, routinely losing himself in drink and often tuning out others, even when they’re in his presence. Some might easily think such gestures make him the embodiment of antisocial behavior.
But, given the quality of his life, it’s also understandable why Woody might act as he does. He grew up in a desolate small town where there was precious little to do, surrounded by self-serving, equally disinterested family members. He fought in Korea at a tender young age, an experience that he never speaks of but that obviously had quite a profound effect on him. He partnered with an untrustworthy businessman, one who wouldn’t hesitate to shaft Woody at every turn. And, to top it all off, he married a shrew of a wife who thinks mostly of herself, perpetually henpecking her husband into submission – and withdrawal.
Considering these circumstances, it’s easy to see why Woody would seek to unplug from life. Yet, despite the often-untethered nature of his existence, connection is really what he craves most. On some level, he knows, as all conscious creators do, that there’s an inherent connectedness that binds all aspects of reality. It’s something that he wants but that’s noticeably absent from his reality. In fact, it’s so far removed that he doesn’t even know how to look for it anymore. He’s incapable of birthing suitable beliefs to make such a lofty goal possible, so he settles for pale substitutes, like drinking, an illusory financial windfall and the prospect of owning a new pickup truck.
What’s perhaps even more troubling, however, is that David sees himself heading down a similar path. He’s still young and vital, but he’s had connection issues of his own. Having once battled the bottle as well, he now finds himself living a solitary existence and stuck in a dead-end job. He’s justifiably concerned that he may one day end up like Woody – someone who desires the same kind of meaningful connection that’s lacking in his old man’s life. In fact, it’s those very circumstances that prompt David to embark on the road trip to Lincoln. He’s hoping that the time spent with Woody will help to forge the kind of bonds – to one another and to life in general – that each of them so desperately seeks. And, with the formation of appropriate beliefs and some concerted action on their part, they just might be able to achieve it.
Still, given the foregoing, one probably can’t help but wonder why Woody and David would go to the extreme of creating such conspicuous disconnection as a means to manifest meaningful connection. Indeed, why go to all that needlessly contradictory trouble?
As strange as it may seem, sometimes materializing the absence of what we seek serves to fuel our passion for making our dreams happen. We so desperately wish to experience what’s missing that we’ll create the exact opposite of what we say we want to help us intently focus our beliefs in the direction of what we seek to manifest. One would hope after a lesson like this that it’s far simpler to just concentrate on what we do want, but sometimes we need the experience of taking the long way around to find the shortest path to realizing our aspirations.
To that end, “Nebraska” also inspires us to never give up on our dreams, no matter how simple or elaborate they may be. Having faith in the beliefs that underlie their materialization is crucial to see them realized, again, regardless of their scope or the means by which they’re made manifest. Sometimes it’s quite possible to see even the seemingly impossible come to fruition if we hold fast to the outcome, rather than the means by which it’s hatched, no matter what the objective is. By holding on to that idea, Woody and David just might see all of their hoped-for expectations come true.
None of this is meant to suggest that “Nebraska” is a dour, plodding exercise in endless despair and exasperating hand-wringing. It’s actually chock full of laugh-out-loud humor, as well as many heartfelt, touching moments, providing an effective mix of comedy and drama. Director Alexander Payne has stepped up his game considerably since his last outing, “The Descendents” (2011), a much-acclaimed though often-unsatisfying effort that pales compared to what he has achieved here. The picture’s exquisite black-and-white cinematography effectively captures the look and feel of the American heartland, recalling such Peter Bogdanovich films as “Paper Moon” (1973) and “The Last Picture Show” (1971). Its excellent script calls to mind the gentle humor and simple, homespun folksiness embodied in Coen Brothers offerings like “Fargo” (1996) and “Raising Arizona” (1987). And its superb performances by Dern, Keach and, especially, Squibb make this film a real treat to watch.
Despite its initial limited release, “Nebraska” is already garnering considerable awards season buzz. In fact, the film has already chalked up some impressive honors, earning notable accolades at the Cannes Film Festival earlier this year. Dern’s performance captured the award for best actor, and the film was a Palme d’Or nominee, the Festival’s highest honor. Look for more such praise to be forthcoming as awards season progresses.
Connecting – or reconnecting – to life can prove to be one of our most rewarding experiences. But recognizing the absence of our connectedness and taking steps to restore it are essential if we ever hope to see this goal realized. One can only hope that we succeed at this before the clock runs out, while we still have the chance to appreciate all it has to offer – pickup trucks notwithstanding.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
It’s easy to take our world for granted. In fact, sometimes we can even lose sight of what connects us to it and everything that makes up its being. But what do we lose when we embrace such an aloof, disconnected outlook? Arguably, it could be far more than we realize, and getting it back may be more difficult than we can imagine. Such is the challenge put to the protagonists in the offbeat new comedy-drama, “Nebraska.”
Woody Grant (Bruce Dern) is a man on a mission. The retired septuagenarian auto mechanic is determined, one way or another, to make his way from his home in Billings, Montana to Lincoln, Nebraska. The reason? Thanks to a promotional mailing he received, Woody’s convinced he’s won $1 million in a sweepstakes sponsored by a magazine sales company. And, since he doesn’t trust the U.S. Postal Service to promptly deliver his reply form, he’s resolved to collect his money in person – even if it means walking all the way there. Woody believes there’s too much at stake to leave matters to chance.
Woody’s family, meanwhile, is justifiably concerned. His wife, Kate (June Squibb), and his sons, David (Will Forte) and Ross (Bob Odenkirk), worry about their stubborn relation. Woody’s alcoholic tendencies, coupled with intermittent bouts of dementia and periodic mobility issues, make him a disaster waiting to happen when left to his own devices. And then there’s Woody’s naïveté about the sweepstakes; Kate and the boys believe Woody will be crushed when he discovers the truth about its misleading nature. But, no matter what they do to keep him in line, there’s simply no deterring Woody from fulfilling his quest.
Woody is so headstrong about his objective that he’s even made plans for how to spend the money. He wants to buy a new pickup truck (even though he no longer drives) and a new auto body painting compressor to replace the one that he believes his former business partner, Ed Pegram (Stacy Keach), stole from him years before (even though they’re no longer in business together). And, even though Kate, David and Ross fail to understand the importance of these seemingly trivial material possessions, they nevertheless matter to Woody, and he’s hell-bent on getting them, regardless of what it takes.
To assuage the old man’s feelings (and to keep him from hurting himself), David agrees to drive Woody from Billings to Lincoln. But, given Woody’s obstinate behavior, their journey together proves to be almost as challenging as if the family had let him go on his own. David hopes that will change, however, when he and Woody make a stopover in dad’s hometown of Hawthorne, Nebraska. David crosses his fingers that the once-familiar surroundings and a reunion with long-unseen relatives will put his father’s mind at ease, quelling thoughts about his foolish obsession. But, when they arrive at Woody’s old haunts, nothing could be further from the truth.
When word of Woody’s alleged fortune spreads throughout Hawthorne, anyone who ever knew him tries to cash in on his supposed new wealth. David is appalled that everyone (including family members) would try to unabashedly take advantage of a feeble, mentally challenged old man. And, for his part, Woody is so clueless about the intentions of the circling vultures that he even expresses an interest in helping them out. With matters quickly spinning out of control, the inevitable disappointment awaiting Woody and David in Lincoln suddenly seems far preferable by comparison.
It’s painfully obvious that Woody is a disconnected soul. He’s quite comfortable being a recluse, frequently venturing off on his own, routinely losing himself in drink and often tuning out others, even when they’re in his presence. Some might easily think such gestures make him the embodiment of antisocial behavior.
But, given the quality of his life, it’s also understandable why Woody might act as he does. He grew up in a desolate small town where there was precious little to do, surrounded by self-serving, equally disinterested family members. He fought in Korea at a tender young age, an experience that he never speaks of but that obviously had quite a profound effect on him. He partnered with an untrustworthy businessman, one who wouldn’t hesitate to shaft Woody at every turn. And, to top it all off, he married a shrew of a wife who thinks mostly of herself, perpetually henpecking her husband into submission – and withdrawal.
Considering these circumstances, it’s easy to see why Woody would seek to unplug from life. Yet, despite the often-untethered nature of his existence, connection is really what he craves most. On some level, he knows, as all conscious creators do, that there’s an inherent connectedness that binds all aspects of reality. It’s something that he wants but that’s noticeably absent from his reality. In fact, it’s so far removed that he doesn’t even know how to look for it anymore. He’s incapable of birthing suitable beliefs to make such a lofty goal possible, so he settles for pale substitutes, like drinking, an illusory financial windfall and the prospect of owning a new pickup truck.
What’s perhaps even more troubling, however, is that David sees himself heading down a similar path. He’s still young and vital, but he’s had connection issues of his own. Having once battled the bottle as well, he now finds himself living a solitary existence and stuck in a dead-end job. He’s justifiably concerned that he may one day end up like Woody – someone who desires the same kind of meaningful connection that’s lacking in his old man’s life. In fact, it’s those very circumstances that prompt David to embark on the road trip to Lincoln. He’s hoping that the time spent with Woody will help to forge the kind of bonds – to one another and to life in general – that each of them so desperately seeks. And, with the formation of appropriate beliefs and some concerted action on their part, they just might be able to achieve it.
Still, given the foregoing, one probably can’t help but wonder why Woody and David would go to the extreme of creating such conspicuous disconnection as a means to manifest meaningful connection. Indeed, why go to all that needlessly contradictory trouble?
As strange as it may seem, sometimes materializing the absence of what we seek serves to fuel our passion for making our dreams happen. We so desperately wish to experience what’s missing that we’ll create the exact opposite of what we say we want to help us intently focus our beliefs in the direction of what we seek to manifest. One would hope after a lesson like this that it’s far simpler to just concentrate on what we do want, but sometimes we need the experience of taking the long way around to find the shortest path to realizing our aspirations.
To that end, “Nebraska” also inspires us to never give up on our dreams, no matter how simple or elaborate they may be. Having faith in the beliefs that underlie their materialization is crucial to see them realized, again, regardless of their scope or the means by which they’re made manifest. Sometimes it’s quite possible to see even the seemingly impossible come to fruition if we hold fast to the outcome, rather than the means by which it’s hatched, no matter what the objective is. By holding on to that idea, Woody and David just might see all of their hoped-for expectations come true.
None of this is meant to suggest that “Nebraska” is a dour, plodding exercise in endless despair and exasperating hand-wringing. It’s actually chock full of laugh-out-loud humor, as well as many heartfelt, touching moments, providing an effective mix of comedy and drama. Director Alexander Payne has stepped up his game considerably since his last outing, “The Descendents” (2011), a much-acclaimed though often-unsatisfying effort that pales compared to what he has achieved here. The picture’s exquisite black-and-white cinematography effectively captures the look and feel of the American heartland, recalling such Peter Bogdanovich films as “Paper Moon” (1973) and “The Last Picture Show” (1971). Its excellent script calls to mind the gentle humor and simple, homespun folksiness embodied in Coen Brothers offerings like “Fargo” (1996) and “Raising Arizona” (1987). And its superb performances by Dern, Keach and, especially, Squibb make this film a real treat to watch.
Despite its initial limited release, “Nebraska” is already garnering considerable awards season buzz. In fact, the film has already chalked up some impressive honors, earning notable accolades at the Cannes Film Festival earlier this year. Dern’s performance captured the award for best actor, and the film was a Palme d’Or nominee, the Festival’s highest honor. Look for more such praise to be forthcoming as awards season progresses.
Connecting – or reconnecting – to life can prove to be one of our most rewarding experiences. But recognizing the absence of our connectedness and taking steps to restore it are essential if we ever hope to see this goal realized. One can only hope that we succeed at this before the clock runs out, while we still have the chance to appreciate all it has to offer – pickup trucks notwithstanding.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Friday, November 22, 2013
‘Dallas Buyers Club’ celebrates the power of transformation
“Dallas Buyers Club” (2013). Cast: Matthew McConaughey, Jared Leto, Jennifer Garner, Denis O’Hare, Dallas Roberts, Steve Zahn, Kevin Rankin, Griffin Dunne, Michael O’Neill, Deneen Tyler, Scott Takeda, Martin Covert, Ian Casselberry, Bradford Cox. Director: Jean-Marc Vallée. Screenplay: Craig Borten and Melissa Wallack. Web site. Trailer.
When we meet those who are set in their ways, we’re often tempted to think they’ll never change. We frequently assume they’re so entrenched in their beliefs that they’ll always be as they are. But is that really the case? What if dramatically new circumstances arise that significantly affect their realities? What then? That very scenario provides the basis for the storyline of the new, fact-based drama, “Dallas Buyers Club.”
Rodeo cowboy Ron Woodroof (Matthew McConaughey) loves to party. The hard-drinking, fast-living good ole boy likes his liquor and the ladies, and he looks to cut loose whenever he can, usually with his running mate, T.J. (Kevin Rankin). But Ron’s wild man lifestyle eventually catches up with him; after years of uninhibited sexual exploits and relentless drug use, he collapses and ends up in the hospital, where he’s diagnosed with AIDS. His physicians, Dr. Sevard (Denis O’Hare) and Dr. Saks (Jennifer Garner), deliver the sobering news, telling their patient that he has only 30 days left to live. And, given that it’s 1985 and in the early days of the epidemic, there are no approved treatments available. He’s advised to get his affairs in order with what time he has left.
As someone who has always seen himself as indestructible, Ron can’t believe what he hears. He’s especially shocked at the AIDS diagnosis, an affliction predominant in the gay community. As an avowed heterosexual (and card-carrying homophobe), he’s in denial at the prospect of having contracted such an illness. And, given his tough guy persona, he refuses to accept the fate his doctors are attempting to saddle him with. He walks out of the hospital, vowing to live.
Ron quickly discovers, though, that his new challenges involve more than his health. All of his one-time “friends” abandon him, contending that he’s been a closet case all along and that he’s now been justifiably subjected to the death sentence that those of his “deviant” lifestyle deserve. No amount of convincing can change their minds, either. So, with plenty of time on his hands, he turns his attention to more pressing matters – like figuring out how to stay alive.
In researching his options, Ron learns that the hospital to which he had been admitted is about to begin clinical trials with AZT, the first drug to be evaluated as an AIDS treatment in the U.S. He meets with Dr. Saks and begs to purchase some of the medication, but she explains that’s not how clinical trials work. She tells him that, even if he were accepted into the testing program, he couldn’t be guaranteed that he’d even receive the drug, that he’s just as likely to receive a placebo. Those terms aren’t good enough for him, so, with his life on the line, he decides to pursue other options.
At first he obtains AZT by clandestine means, but his health soon worsens, landing him back in the hospital. While there, he learns that he’s probably been taking the drug at a dosage that’s too high, causing a toxic reaction that kills healthy cells in the course of battling the disease. He realizes that more drastic – but safer – measures are warranted. He travels to Mexico to meet with an alternative medical practitioner, Dr. Vass (Griffin Dunne), who treats his AIDS patients with vitamins, minerals, supplements, injectable proteins and other, less toxic drugs. And, remarkably, when Ron tries these remedies, his health starts to improve.
Needless to say, Ron is pleased with the results. He’s also convinced that the good doctor could make a fortune with his treatments in the U.S. with the right distribution channels. Faced with their respective needs to raise cash to stay solvent and to keep the clinic open, Ron and Dr. Vass agree to partner in setting up a domestic dispensary network. By drawing upon legal loopholes, the cowboy entrepreneur justifies his operation’s legitimacy by claiming that he’s importing unapproved, though not illegal, drugs, making it possible to launch the new venture. With the valued assistance of Rayon (Jared Leto), a transsexual AIDS patient who Ron met during his second hospital stay, the network takes off, with demand far outstripping expectations. To keep the venture afloat and to accommodate the expanding client base, Ron and Rayon establish the Dallas Buyers Club, an operation through which patients purchase memberships that entitle them to stocks of the medications.
The club’s phenomenal success attracts widespread attention, prompting Ron to circle the globe in search of additional sources of supply to keep up with rising demand. However, his operation also draws the scrutiny of the pharmaceutical industry and its government lapdogs at the Food & Drug Administration. Concerned that the DBC is cutting into their market (especially given that the products it distributes appear more effective than those offered through official channels), the powers-that-be do all that they can to shut it down. But their retaliatory tactics are hampered when the DBC receives the support of an unlikely ally, Dr. Saks, who comes to share the same conclusions that Ron and his clients have discovered for themselves. These circumstances eventually lead to a showdown in which the needs of sick, desperate people come squarely into conflict with the aims of an industry and a bureaucracy seeking to maintain the status quo, one that’s more concerned with serving their own needs than those of their constituents. It’s unclear how things will shake out, but at least the oppressed have a committed hell-raiser in their corner to make their case and help them get their needs met.
The conscious creation lessons the protagonist seeks to learn should be fairly obvious, particularly those related to thinking outside the box to overcome hindering limitations. With virtually no officially sanctioned options available to him, Ron must get creative to come up with envelope-pushing solutions to address his circumstances. It’s especially important for someone with his condition, which, at its core, is an affliction that embodies the perils that come from personal disempowerment (if you doubt that, look at the nature of the debilitating physical effects this disease causes and the constituencies it initially affected). By refusing to buy into the beliefs associated with the prognosis offered up by the “experts,” Ron confidently chooses to chart his own course. He forms beliefs in line with that thinking to manifest a different outcome, one intended to bolster his well-being.
In doing so, Ron also creates the conditions required to live out his value fulfillment, the conscious creation concept having to do with us becoming our best, truest selves for our own satisfaction and the betterment of those around us. In addition to addressing his own health concerns, he helps many others experiencing comparable challenges, improving their health and restoring their sense of personal empowerment. It’s an unlikely outcome fostered by an unlikely advocate, but, on some level, he obviously recognized his reason for being and didn’t hesitate to act upon it.
It’s particularly ironic that someone so homophobic could find his calling by being of service to those of whom he was once so critical. By becoming subjected to the same sort of discrimination, hostility and disempowerment that he once so freely dished out, he discovers what it’s like to walk in the shoes of those he mercilessly scorned. His outer world reflects back to him the beliefs that he had been holding on the inside, providing him, fittingly enough, with a potent taste of his own medicine. And, fortunately for his sake, he has the presence of mind to realize what he had been doing all along, making it possible to change his ways. That’s truly a prime example of someone being able to overcome acutely limited thinking and attain a previously unenvisioned degree of personal transformation.
Ron’s metamorphosis also illustrates why we sometimes create circumstances of a “negative” nature. At first glance, one might wonder why anyone would intentionally manifest such a horrific scenario for oneself. But gaining the wisdom and experience that come from these kinds of conditions is often essential to be able to transcend such situations, to move past the self-imposed restrictions and become aware that we truly possess reserves of personal power beyond measure. Many of us would probably like to think that we shouldn’t have to resort to such extreme tactics to realize such goals, but sometimes there may be no other way to do so to achieve the sought-after degree of success. As in most situations like this, the greater the risk, the greater the reward, not only for the creators of such circumstances, but also for those who benefit from them.
The inspiration afforded by examples like this is indeed impressive. It shines a spotlight on conditions in need of change, particularly those that are seen as patently unfair or unduly unrealistic. With hordes of deathly ill patients desperately seeking help to ward off the inevitable, concerted action is needed to address their needs. Sympathetic lip service from those in a position to help does little to alleviate suffering, as Ron and his clients discover for themselves. Thankfully, his outspoken, impassioned attitude, backed up by bold gestures, do much to raise public awareness of the need to pursue and develop alternatives that go beyond the limited offerings being made available. Such calls to action can work wonders, fueling the formation of beliefs that lead to manifestations capable of implementing significant, meaningful, effective change.
“Dallas Buyers Club” is a top-notch production all the way around, excellent in virtually every regard. Its greatest strength lies in its performances, especially McConaughey and Leto, both of whom went to the extremes of losing upwards of 30 pounds for their roles (and who have undeniable locks on consideration for awards season honors), as well as Garner, who has significantly upped her game from her more typical lightweight portrayals. The pacing sometimes drags a bit in the second hour, but that’s more than offset by all of the movie’s many other fine attributes. Look for this release to receive a wide range of accolades as the film year draws to a close.
Even under the direst of circumstances, there’s always a way out. Indeed, change is always possible, and “Dallas Buyers Club” drives home that point with remarkable clarity. So the next time you think your life offers you no choices, consider what Ron and his peers went through, and you’ll see that solutions are always at hand, even if not readily apparent at first glance. Under those conditions, don’t be afraid to leave yourself open to the possibilities; after all, your life may depend on it.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
When we meet those who are set in their ways, we’re often tempted to think they’ll never change. We frequently assume they’re so entrenched in their beliefs that they’ll always be as they are. But is that really the case? What if dramatically new circumstances arise that significantly affect their realities? What then? That very scenario provides the basis for the storyline of the new, fact-based drama, “Dallas Buyers Club.”
Rodeo cowboy Ron Woodroof (Matthew McConaughey) loves to party. The hard-drinking, fast-living good ole boy likes his liquor and the ladies, and he looks to cut loose whenever he can, usually with his running mate, T.J. (Kevin Rankin). But Ron’s wild man lifestyle eventually catches up with him; after years of uninhibited sexual exploits and relentless drug use, he collapses and ends up in the hospital, where he’s diagnosed with AIDS. His physicians, Dr. Sevard (Denis O’Hare) and Dr. Saks (Jennifer Garner), deliver the sobering news, telling their patient that he has only 30 days left to live. And, given that it’s 1985 and in the early days of the epidemic, there are no approved treatments available. He’s advised to get his affairs in order with what time he has left.
As someone who has always seen himself as indestructible, Ron can’t believe what he hears. He’s especially shocked at the AIDS diagnosis, an affliction predominant in the gay community. As an avowed heterosexual (and card-carrying homophobe), he’s in denial at the prospect of having contracted such an illness. And, given his tough guy persona, he refuses to accept the fate his doctors are attempting to saddle him with. He walks out of the hospital, vowing to live.
Ron quickly discovers, though, that his new challenges involve more than his health. All of his one-time “friends” abandon him, contending that he’s been a closet case all along and that he’s now been justifiably subjected to the death sentence that those of his “deviant” lifestyle deserve. No amount of convincing can change their minds, either. So, with plenty of time on his hands, he turns his attention to more pressing matters – like figuring out how to stay alive.
In researching his options, Ron learns that the hospital to which he had been admitted is about to begin clinical trials with AZT, the first drug to be evaluated as an AIDS treatment in the U.S. He meets with Dr. Saks and begs to purchase some of the medication, but she explains that’s not how clinical trials work. She tells him that, even if he were accepted into the testing program, he couldn’t be guaranteed that he’d even receive the drug, that he’s just as likely to receive a placebo. Those terms aren’t good enough for him, so, with his life on the line, he decides to pursue other options.
At first he obtains AZT by clandestine means, but his health soon worsens, landing him back in the hospital. While there, he learns that he’s probably been taking the drug at a dosage that’s too high, causing a toxic reaction that kills healthy cells in the course of battling the disease. He realizes that more drastic – but safer – measures are warranted. He travels to Mexico to meet with an alternative medical practitioner, Dr. Vass (Griffin Dunne), who treats his AIDS patients with vitamins, minerals, supplements, injectable proteins and other, less toxic drugs. And, remarkably, when Ron tries these remedies, his health starts to improve.
Needless to say, Ron is pleased with the results. He’s also convinced that the good doctor could make a fortune with his treatments in the U.S. with the right distribution channels. Faced with their respective needs to raise cash to stay solvent and to keep the clinic open, Ron and Dr. Vass agree to partner in setting up a domestic dispensary network. By drawing upon legal loopholes, the cowboy entrepreneur justifies his operation’s legitimacy by claiming that he’s importing unapproved, though not illegal, drugs, making it possible to launch the new venture. With the valued assistance of Rayon (Jared Leto), a transsexual AIDS patient who Ron met during his second hospital stay, the network takes off, with demand far outstripping expectations. To keep the venture afloat and to accommodate the expanding client base, Ron and Rayon establish the Dallas Buyers Club, an operation through which patients purchase memberships that entitle them to stocks of the medications.
The club’s phenomenal success attracts widespread attention, prompting Ron to circle the globe in search of additional sources of supply to keep up with rising demand. However, his operation also draws the scrutiny of the pharmaceutical industry and its government lapdogs at the Food & Drug Administration. Concerned that the DBC is cutting into their market (especially given that the products it distributes appear more effective than those offered through official channels), the powers-that-be do all that they can to shut it down. But their retaliatory tactics are hampered when the DBC receives the support of an unlikely ally, Dr. Saks, who comes to share the same conclusions that Ron and his clients have discovered for themselves. These circumstances eventually lead to a showdown in which the needs of sick, desperate people come squarely into conflict with the aims of an industry and a bureaucracy seeking to maintain the status quo, one that’s more concerned with serving their own needs than those of their constituents. It’s unclear how things will shake out, but at least the oppressed have a committed hell-raiser in their corner to make their case and help them get their needs met.
The conscious creation lessons the protagonist seeks to learn should be fairly obvious, particularly those related to thinking outside the box to overcome hindering limitations. With virtually no officially sanctioned options available to him, Ron must get creative to come up with envelope-pushing solutions to address his circumstances. It’s especially important for someone with his condition, which, at its core, is an affliction that embodies the perils that come from personal disempowerment (if you doubt that, look at the nature of the debilitating physical effects this disease causes and the constituencies it initially affected). By refusing to buy into the beliefs associated with the prognosis offered up by the “experts,” Ron confidently chooses to chart his own course. He forms beliefs in line with that thinking to manifest a different outcome, one intended to bolster his well-being.
In doing so, Ron also creates the conditions required to live out his value fulfillment, the conscious creation concept having to do with us becoming our best, truest selves for our own satisfaction and the betterment of those around us. In addition to addressing his own health concerns, he helps many others experiencing comparable challenges, improving their health and restoring their sense of personal empowerment. It’s an unlikely outcome fostered by an unlikely advocate, but, on some level, he obviously recognized his reason for being and didn’t hesitate to act upon it.
It’s particularly ironic that someone so homophobic could find his calling by being of service to those of whom he was once so critical. By becoming subjected to the same sort of discrimination, hostility and disempowerment that he once so freely dished out, he discovers what it’s like to walk in the shoes of those he mercilessly scorned. His outer world reflects back to him the beliefs that he had been holding on the inside, providing him, fittingly enough, with a potent taste of his own medicine. And, fortunately for his sake, he has the presence of mind to realize what he had been doing all along, making it possible to change his ways. That’s truly a prime example of someone being able to overcome acutely limited thinking and attain a previously unenvisioned degree of personal transformation.
Ron’s metamorphosis also illustrates why we sometimes create circumstances of a “negative” nature. At first glance, one might wonder why anyone would intentionally manifest such a horrific scenario for oneself. But gaining the wisdom and experience that come from these kinds of conditions is often essential to be able to transcend such situations, to move past the self-imposed restrictions and become aware that we truly possess reserves of personal power beyond measure. Many of us would probably like to think that we shouldn’t have to resort to such extreme tactics to realize such goals, but sometimes there may be no other way to do so to achieve the sought-after degree of success. As in most situations like this, the greater the risk, the greater the reward, not only for the creators of such circumstances, but also for those who benefit from them.
The inspiration afforded by examples like this is indeed impressive. It shines a spotlight on conditions in need of change, particularly those that are seen as patently unfair or unduly unrealistic. With hordes of deathly ill patients desperately seeking help to ward off the inevitable, concerted action is needed to address their needs. Sympathetic lip service from those in a position to help does little to alleviate suffering, as Ron and his clients discover for themselves. Thankfully, his outspoken, impassioned attitude, backed up by bold gestures, do much to raise public awareness of the need to pursue and develop alternatives that go beyond the limited offerings being made available. Such calls to action can work wonders, fueling the formation of beliefs that lead to manifestations capable of implementing significant, meaningful, effective change.
“Dallas Buyers Club” is a top-notch production all the way around, excellent in virtually every regard. Its greatest strength lies in its performances, especially McConaughey and Leto, both of whom went to the extremes of losing upwards of 30 pounds for their roles (and who have undeniable locks on consideration for awards season honors), as well as Garner, who has significantly upped her game from her more typical lightweight portrayals. The pacing sometimes drags a bit in the second hour, but that’s more than offset by all of the movie’s many other fine attributes. Look for this release to receive a wide range of accolades as the film year draws to a close.
Even under the direst of circumstances, there’s always a way out. Indeed, change is always possible, and “Dallas Buyers Club” drives home that point with remarkable clarity. So the next time you think your life offers you no choices, consider what Ron and his peers went through, and you’ll see that solutions are always at hand, even if not readily apparent at first glance. Under those conditions, don’t be afraid to leave yourself open to the possibilities; after all, your life may depend on it.
Copyright © 2013, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)