Pray the Devil Back to Hell

Providing coordinated snapshots of the movement that led to the end of Liberia's second civil war, Gini Reticker's Pray the Devil Back to Hell distills and memorializes an exceptional postmodern promotion of peace. Interviewing many of the principal participants, Reticker offers personal histories and general statistics to frame and conceptualize her portrait. Her depiction of the civil war modestly evidences the daily atrocities, only graphically referring to one barbaric situation, which highlights the brutality without sensationalizing it, thereby providing her with more time to focus on the movement. The Women of Liberia, Christian and Muslims working together, were basically tired of the civil war and decided to launch a peaceful protest demanding that Charles Taylor's corrupt regime meet with Liberia's rebellious warlords to come to a peaceful agreement. Eventually attracting international attention, they tenaciously and ingeniously held their ground until their goals were met.

Seemingly up against insurmountable odds, the Women of Liberia uprightly stand as a shining beacon of dedicated grassroots political action (Charles Taylor is being tried for war crimes in the Hague). Hopefully their example, brilliantly upheld in Pray the Devil Back to Hell, continues to globally inspire the bold and the oppressed.

The Meaning of Life

Hugh Brody's The Meaning of Life introduces us to several inmates of the Kwìkwèxwelhp minimum security correctional facility (The Kwìkwèxwelhp Healing Village), located on Chehalis First Nations territory in British Columbia. Providing several of them with the opportunity to speak, a vicious cycle of abuse and violent crime is showcased. The residents, having been sentenced to life in prison, recognize that the crimes they committed were heinous and deplorable, the kinds of acts that aren't easily forgiven. Wishing they had taken a different path while making the most of the one they're on, many of them occupy their time with various productive tasks, often producing venerable works of art. The healing village's operation is guided by First Nations's spirituality, and its focus provides the inmates with a high degree of dignity. It is certain that they committed brutal crimes for which one must be locked up as a consequence. But what becomes clear is that most of them were the extreme victims of abuse themselves, many of them Natives who suffered under the Residential School System, and wherever they went prior to committing their crimes, there were few people if anyone willing to try and understand their situation, who weren't selling drugs and/or alcohol. What The Meaning of Life poetically captures is the beauty remaining within these victims, as well as the fact that serving time can have enormously beneficial spiritual affects, especially when that time is served within an institution that respects its subjects. There are certainly no easy answers when it comes to political and ethical viewpoints regarding the nature of discipline and punishment, but people and institutions which attempt to understand the historical, social, and psychological reasons why something occurred, rather than simply judging the fact that it did, are moving in the right direction in my books, dynamically examining multidimensional big picture questions through the productive lens of compassion and culture.

Shopping

I couldn't figure out if it was one of those eager requests to assist which you're supposed to ignore, or a genuine display of concern requiring a response. Follow-up questions added to the confusion for all the answers sounded like double-entendres.

If I was setting up a booth at a conference, I'd place it somewhere in the middle of the pack, based solely on my own preferences, for upon entering conferences I prefer to move quickly past the booths in front, unless snacks are provided in their vicinity, in order to discover snacks, then booths situated in the middle, after which I'll proceed from right to left, then back to front, until I've absorbed it all.

All it took was patience and tact guided by a discerning critical intuition which could precisely delineate the attributes of an indescribable topic, week after week, in order to generate no direct response.

I didn't see the trap at first but then it occurred to me. They were cognizant of the fact that I was there by myself and wanted to play a game. The female would ask me questions the answers to which I couldn't possibly know, in a sweet voice, and I would blush and express my ignorance (gathering). The male would then confidently answer the question which related to his area of expertise and his ego would inflate (hunting), thereby increasing his attraction to the female. Don't mean to be gender specific, have simply presented the genders as they related to one another during the social interaction in question.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part I

Know then that Harry Potter is back once more in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part I, wherein he battles death eaters and fascists and feelings all the while coming of age. Most of the regular cast is also back for a scene or two and since the book has been cut in two even more depth than that found in The Order of the Phoenix is presented. Which doesn't mean many of the scenes aren't still curt and melodramatic full of noises and exclamations the kitschy insertion of which is supposed to tap into our preprogrammed dispositions and produce one of a variety of emotional responses. Short and to the point most of the time, yet supposedly exceptional due to the hype and reputations of the cast, the scene where Harry dances with Hermione still adds a nice touch. It's not that I didn't like the film, I certainly did. It's just as entertaining as any of the others, in fact, even more so, because it strays from the typical Hogwarts-and-they're-a-year-older-now format. It's just very rushed. A couple more extended scenes like that where Harry dances with Hermione would have been worth their weight in transitionary gold, or galleons, or something (why did they even include the Dursley's?). I'd really like to see an auteur like Werner Herzog or David Lynch take an aspect of one of these novels and transfer it to another setting within which its character is reconstituted yet traditionalized in order to provide it with more artistic depth. Or perhaps one of them could simply direct the Battle of Hogwarts. Could you imagine how amazing it would be if David Lynch directed the Battle of Hogwarts?

It would be amazing.

The Town

Ben Affleck's The Town is your classic intergenerational flick. You can rent it with an eclectic bunch including your parents and although few will likely be seriously impressed, many will accept its better than average character. It's subdued yet poignant, frank yet thoughtful, situated in an inner-city small town. Sort of cool how Affleck (Doug MacRay) falls for the girl he kidnaps after setting her free (Rebecca Hall as Claire Keesey). Liked the ways in which it cryptically and ambiguously emphasizes how people accidentally suffocate one another as circumstances dictate that they 'must' engage in certain actions, whether they're decent cops or Robin Hood, even if such an emphasis is paranoid and cynical (the internal consistency works). Affleck pulls off the classic complacent comeback performance, successfully portraying a character who never has to display much emotion, which makes it easier for him to appear accomplished since he doesn't have to take any risks. Jeremy Renner (James Coughlin) is provided with more of an opportunity to display his talent than he was in The Hurt Locker, and it looks like he may be around for awhile. Entertaining. The film subtly uses clichés successfully to present an appealing middle-of-the-road entertaining distraction, the kind of film you can hope that your friend with bad taste picks when it's his or her turn to choose a movie. A long ways from Good Will Hunting, but worth a forty minute walk on a cold, dark, typical weeknight.

And there I was, waiting in line at the grocery store, then placing my chosen items upon the belt of conveyance. At that moment, what I wished more than anything was for the divider, the stick separating my groceries from those picked by the individuals occupying the space behind me, to remain stationary, not to move as my food and beverage choices pressed onwards. But low and behold, as if Satan had descended upon _______ in order to gleefully thwart my superlative passion, the divider moved a fraction of an inch as the cashier pushed her motivational button. Distraught, I then did my best to maintain my composure as I exchanged funds for the goods in question. And the gummy worms I had purchased, sublime representatives of truth and prosperity, emanating earthen warmth and squiggly justice, making unreasonable demands, adding stipulations and salutations the likes of which I had never thought could be the product of joy, slithered their way into my pocket, and as I lamented the movement, the lack of a concrete resolution, I could only sigh and shake my head, for I new that never again would I be able to watch as that specific divider at that particular moment remained stable, for during the period in question it had moved, and therefore would also move, within my memory, forever.

Age comes when you recognize your faults.
Maturity comes when you start trying to correct them.
Wisdom comes when you realize that no matter how hard you try, many of your faults will remain.
Contentment comes when you find someone who loves them.
Someone with a huge rack.

Everything related to the next year and half's future rests upon the social outcomes of tonight's activities, for they have been advertised by representatives of diverse groups without the assistance of coordination, meaning that I must be on my best behaviour or risk being cast into oblivion. Methinks it's time for a six pack.

When a particular point, one of many possibilities, full of reason and certitude, prosperity and diligence, is suddenly elevated to the status of a universal, and everyone is talking about it, you need to do your best to adapt, even if your collegial skill set does not naturally and easily reflect its wisdom, until such a time when it has been replaced by something which makes a smooth psychological fit, if there's nowhere to hide.

If I had met her in a cold small town, and we had fallen for each other to shake it off, upon leaving, when she turned to me and said "I think we'll have to break up in order to stop thinking about it," I would have looked at her and for the first time stated, "I love you," before whispering "you're probably right" in her ear.

Trucks

Licensed powerful
machines driving across countries
with goods to exchange.

Puke

Inconsequential
solution diluted plastic
victory flowers.

If Not for You

Wild animal magnetism
prudently chides
discreet mischievous charm.

Wish the Broncos were having a better season. At least their playoff hopes aren't high this year.

Baseline

Oddly situated
diagonal lattice clockwork
eclectic figure.

Has God given great film directors the ability to intuit absolute cultural codes, applying only to specific dispositions within particularized epochs, which they then unconsciously embed within their texts, leaving critics the task of deciphering them in order to better understand the divine content of the human condition?

It takes a special kind of man to write books about women of virtue while treating his partner with absolute disrespect. But it takes an angel to enjoy and accept her partner's disrespect because she loves the virtuous books he creates.

For the first time today, I was politely asked to leave my apartment for an hour in order to accommodate a roommate's (foiled) assignation. Got to take his jeep for a drive.

I think the next time he reminds me that I left my shampoo bottle in the wrong place in the shower I'm going to call him a filthy adulterer.

Fool for Love

Robert Altman's Fool for Love is one of those dark sombre romances that's almost more fun to write about than watch. The basic plot is traditional. A gorgeous woman (Kim Basinger as May) is in love and has been in love with a cowboy (Sam Shepard as Eddie) whose no good for her for over a decade. She tries to overcome her desire by dating someone less bold (Randy Quaid as Martin). When the two subjects of desire meet, an otherwise viscid, enigmatic, nocturnal love story suddenly has all of its secrets revealed, candidly, confidently, and non-chalently, a shocking synthesis of opposites cheerfully and disconcertingly materialized. This portion of Fool for Love's script, by clarifying the details the rest of the film has so cleverly hidden, carnal forbidden details forged by desire's twisted and recalcitrant whims, seems to be saying that if a polar synthesis is unleashed in order to explain two sets of taboo miscalculations (one the direct result of the other), while order will be briefly restored, that order's chaos will not be able to withstand externalized vindications. Hence, while the love remains, the situation becomes even more surreal.

I allowed myself to believe that what she had said was true for 15 minutes.

Habit

Pent up nothing just
constant routine desire one
smoke two smokes smoking.

Rar rar rar.

Due Date

As you enter your fourth decade, you may find getting along with people difficult, especially if you're not interested in fucking people over, or, are very interested in fucking people over. If you're interested in fucking people over, you'll get along well with your brethren, but any sort of genuine affection is always mitigated and diluted by an underlying creeping sense of dread, which can lead to misery if not alleviated by church on Sunday (or a weekly chat with a psychiatrist). If you're not interested in fucking people over, you'll seem odd, and the ways in which you interact with others will be judged as suspect and counterproductive, as if you don't want a three storey house, although there will be an unspoken respect for your good nature that underlies your social interactions. Todd Phillips's Due Date takes a representative from both of these categories and sticks them on a road trip together from Atlanta to Los Angeles. Peter Highman (Robert Downey Jr.) simply wants to make it back to L.A. for the birth of his first child while Ethan Tremblay (Zach Galifianakis) has a meeting with an agent in Hollywood. The relationship between their personalities is very Plains, Trains and Automobiles, although the consistently awkward and ridiculous scenarios have been crafted for a 21st century audience (like the difference between Back to the Future and Hot Tub Time Machine or Growing Pains and Family Guy). It's sort of like high-strung lackadaisical perseverance meets care-free trusting tactless generosity while co-ordinating various provocatively inane exchanges on an uplifting heroic comedic adventure. Will an enduring friendship be the result and will Ethan and Peter learn to fuck each other over productively by openly caring for one another? My favourite Todd Phillips's film to date.

Novocaine

While growing up in the 80s I was a huge Steve Martin fan, so I decided to give Novocaine a shot recently even though its reviews are predominantly negative. And it's obvious that those reviews are negative because Novocaine is simply to smart for its own good. It's well written insofar as its melodramatic presentations and pronouncements are consistently subverted by ridiculous subject matter that simultaneously lambastes and reconstructs several film noir 'motifs' in order to ironically elevate the whole kitschy kit and kaboodle. It's like director David Atkins is giving Martin the chance to make fun of the ways in which Steve Martin films were typecast during the 90s by allowing him to return to a more atypical role, like those from Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid or The Man with Two Brains. In fact, Atkins plays with mass conventions and characterizations within in order to reinvent and reinvigorate filmic constructions, notably with his police officers and femme fatales, thereby providing an unpredictable treat for the conditioned status quo, by destabilizing the manufactured organic link between characters and occupations. Which opens up the comedic spectrum and explains the vituperation.

Kevin Bacon's first scene is outstanding.

Tsotsi

Gang leader David (Presley Chweneyagae) has a bizarre crisis of conscience after stealing an automobile in the first twenty minutes of Gavin Hood's Tsotsi. Used to spending his time organizing petty robberies with the help of his friends, David suddenly steals a car on his own only to find a baby nestled in the back seat. Horrific and haunting childhood memories demand that he care for the child in order to make amends for his father's abuse. In the meantime, the child's parents use their power and influence to vigilantly search for their offspring.

Tilling complicated ethical ground, Tsotsi illustrates how a troubled individual uses the rewards gained from criminal activities to transform his attitude regarding community living. Hood is clear to point out that the opportunities in David's neighbourhood are slim and a life of crime one of the only options. As David learns more about the art of parenting, his personality changes and he develops a more inclusive set of social principles. And then he is arrested, but on his own terms.

If you take someone who is relaxed seriously you may lighten up.