Classic Review: Poltergeist

Stars: ★★★★

Summary:  A distinctly Spielbergian piece of childlike terror and awe.

Review:  I’ve always been a paranormal enthusiast.  My instincts tell me that the world around us, especially popular media’s edited view of the world, is not all there is.  There are still unfathomable mysteries.  Not everything’s explained by bouncing particles together and making educated guesses.  It proves my geekhood, but when I consider how I approach the world, I immediately think of the Vulcans from ‘Star Trek’ and their philosophy IDIC, that is, Infinite Diversity (in) Infinite Combinations.  There are too many possible answers for every question.

Which brings me to a recent cinematic experience I had, Steven Spielberg’s story ‘Poltergeist’, a movie that’s equal parts wonder and horror.  The filmmakers wisely spent most of their time showing the unfolding supernatural events from a child’s point-of-view.  Children, of course, believe in IDIC.  They’re natural poets.  A rainstorm is more than part of a cycle, unfolding since the Earth’s beginning; it’s a harbinger of doom.  A tree isn’t a passive factory of useful materials; it’s a pensive, devious, patient monster.  A clown doll sitting at the foot of the bed isn’t a fun toy; at night, it transforms into a demon, waiting for you to fall asleep.  It’s the imagination’s dark side in full force.

What ‘Poltergeist’ does is it takes childhood fears — that your home is the devil’s playground — and brings them into the adult world.  Unlike most cinematic families, the family in ‘Poltergeist’ is unified, loving, and three-dimensional.  It’s the family every kid wants and deserves.  When the kids’ fears prove real — and ghosts kidnap the little girl — the parents don’t react with skepticism.  To combat a supernatural enemy, they need the same imagination and faith their children have.  This is what Jesus is talking about when He says, “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”  Not an impossible demand or a threat; a plea for open minds.

‘Poltergeist’ is indeed scary, but because it originated in Spielberg’s mind, it has the same sense of adventure and awe as ‘Jaws’ and ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’.  If you’ve got a stomach for horror, ‘Poltergeist’ is incredibly fun, and even inspiring.  Watching the father, played by Craig T. Nelson, interact with the kids, well, it made me want to be a Dad.  It’s increasingly rare that we get to see a purely positive role model.

I’ve referred to this as a Spielberg film, and it’s not because I have any illusions about who directed it.  That was Tobe Hooper.  The auteur is not always the director; its how we ought to pinpoint the chief creative force behind any project, no matter their role.  Here, it was certainly the co-writer and producer, Steven Spielberg, as the narrative is certainly his and every shot screams out his influence.

‘Poltergeist’ is my favorite horror film of all time.  It’s an experience akin to ‘Jaws’, ‘Close Encounters of the Third Kind’ and the ‘Indiana Jones’ pictures.  I’ll be returning to that haunted house again.

Classic Review: The Silence Of The Lambs

Stars: ★★★★

Summary:  The only horror film to win Best Picture, ‘The Silence Of The Lambs’ is terrifying because it’s truthful.

Review:  There’s “theme park” scary movies and then there’s true horror. ‘The Silence Of The Lambs’, the only horror film to ever win Best Picture, defines the latter class. It originates from the same real-life story as Hitchcock’s ‘Psycho’. Instead of establishing distance from the psychopath, however, ‘The Silence Of The Lambs’ takes us up close and personal with not one, but two dangerous and terrifyingly realistic villains.

The most famous is Dr. Hannibal “The Cannibal” Lecter, a brilliant and seductive psychopathic psychologist played by Anthony Hopkins. He’s the most vile and convincing villain I have ever seen on film. FBI Agent Clarice Starling, excellently played by Jodie Foster, has to consult with the incarcerated monster to see if she can discover how to find a serial killer known as Buffalo Bill. Their interactions are not only the highlight of the movie, but some of the few perfect moments in cinematic history.

This is a brutal experience.  It is a descent into the darkest dungeons in the human spirit, into Tartarus.  It is a challenging picture that requires viewers of strong constitutions.  By not flinching, the filmmakers are putting us in absolute sympathy with Clarice; she’s vulnerable, naïve, and though she has an idea of where her journey will take her, it’s a horrifying ride that leaves her shaken.  Director Jonathan Demme takes the Hitchcockian ideal to its absolute limit, lets us chew through our nails and grind our teeth until the last logical moment, which results in a fantastic catharsis.  This isn’t a film for the faint of heart, and the weight of the thing goes beyond simple thrills.  Psychologically and philosophically, it sticks with you.  Every major religion has a theme of the descent into darkness and pain.  Consider the challenge of Christianity, as made by St. Paul, for believers to “crucify their flesh” — to endure the greatest suffering for the greatest reward.  ’The Silence Of The Lambs’ is a filmic exploration of that challenge, both as a narrative (Clarice’s pursuit of Buffalo Bill) and as an experience.  Provided that viewers know what they’re after, ‘The Silence Of The Lambs’ is a uniquely rewarding film.

The philosophical theme of ‘The Silence Of The Lambs’ is that yes, indeed, monsters do exist, and to our horror, they’re people like us.  There’s something convenient about supernatural horror that separates the man from the monster, allows us the comfort given a victim, that when all’s said and done, history takes pity on the innocent.  Here, there’s no such comfort.  Instead, Clarice Starling discovers the bitter truth of how similar Hannibal Lecter and Buffalo Bill really are to “normal” people.  Being human is a dangerous idea.  Within each of us, there’s a devilish potential that we only think we’ve successfully sublimated.  Inside our private hells, we keep monsters locked away, but what about the ones that seem so attractive that they can lure us in to their homes for some fava beans and a bottle of nice Chianti?

In an interesting contrast, let’s compare Stanley Kubrick’s masterpiece, ’2001: A Space Odyssey’ with Jonathan Demme’s ‘The Silence Of The Lambs’.  ’2001′ is a film about, literally, heaven, space, evolution and the divine potential of humankind.  It’s a hopeful journey through time with a strangely (for Kubrick) optimistic point-of-view.   ‘Silence’, however, is about Earth and things underneath it, like basements and pits and darkened rooms.  It’s about devolution, complex, civilized man’s disintegration into a cannibalistic hunter, the diabolical potential of humankind.  Perhaps this Halloween, for a unique double feature, you ought to watch both.

Iron Man

Stars:  ★★★☆

Summary:  A fantastic and dramatically credible way to set up Marvel’s ironclad hero.

Review:  The superhero genre on film seems to be in the middle of a Renaissance.  Rival companies Marvel and DC, both plagued by bad renditions of their characters, seem to be trying harder and mustering greater creative forces to realize their iconography on screen.  ‘Iron Man’ could be considered, after a mixed third ‘Spider-Man’ and two disliked ‘X-Men’ installments, to be Marvel’s comeback.  It has invigorated mainstream interest into Marvel’s great selection of “unknown” characters, and is the first in a series of films to set up 2012′s destruction of the world via Joss Whedon crossover extravaganza ‘The Avengers’.

So here’s why it works.  The heart of it is a redemption story.  Billionaire genius Tony Stark, played with originality by Robert Downey, Jr. in a comeback role, is a real jerkass who follows a mythic story arc into a modern hell — a cave in Afghanistan — where he is confronted with the knowledge that his company’s weapons are being used by terrorists.  They try to force him to build them a WMD, but he instead builds himself a suit of armor and escapes with extreme prejudice.  Because of his ordeal, he is being kept alive by a power core, which is analogous to his new heart.  His new appreciation for life and sense of responsibility clash with his company’s double-dealing.  The classic path into hell and subsequent rebirth is a story as old as humanity.  A confrontation with suffering, one’s own sins, and a need for empathy is setup for a successful hero, both in fiction and in true life.  The film never loses steam, per se, but the strength of the picture is in Stark’s metaphorical resurrection as a hero, and when it diverts from this in the second and third acts it loses some of its punch.

From an Orthodox Christian perspective, the film works brilliantly because it taps into the redemptive relationship between God and man.  Contrary to popular and misguided opinion in Christian circles, the point of the faith is not to escape hell, but to confront it directly.  The human race is inexorably tied into an ontological relationship with Christ.  By this I mean, where He goes, we ought to go.  This is what Christians (should) mean when they say salvation is in Christ.  It’s not only in His name, like “Here’s your membership card with Christ’s signature on it”, but directly united with His specific actions.  Namely, death and resurrection.  Through and after his ordeal, Tony Stark acts as, in the best sense of the word, a Christian.  Like the Christ.  That’s not to say he’s a perfect character — that was never the question.  The question was whether he would go through hell and emerge a different man.  In a broad sense, we all go through the fire, and we all have a choice: Refuse it and be destroyed, or accept it and change it into a vehicle of metamorphosis.

A great film with a few weak points.  Here’s to Marvel’s Renaissance.

Classic Review: 2001: A Space Odyssey

Stars:  **** out of 4

Summary:  Breathtaking.  Visionary.  Unequaled.  Terrifying.  Different.  Dfdndononcmnieowidnosjnd.  What?

Dude... don't touch the monoliths, man, they turn you into, like, a space baby.

Review:  Hey, look, I’m reviewing another “Best Movie Of All Time”.  I guess it’s unavoidable.  I went into the late night experience of watching ’2001′ with a healthy amount of skepticism.  I’m not much for judging a movie solely on its reputation, I mean, that just takes the art out of the whole thing.  I’ve known the plot and the details for a long time, and that fueled my early criticism, as it didn’t grab me on paper.  I hoped, truly, that the film would far exceed my expectations, and I was pleased to see that it did.  I also hate it.

klndklnfknkdnfonsiondo!  What’s that, you ask?  Oh, that’s art.  Don’t ask me to explain it. Create your own interpretation.

I love this movie, but woe to the monkey-ness at the beginning.  Seriously, it opens with twenty minutes of people in monkey suits, with the excuse that it is “The Dawn Of Man”.  Very well, then, I’ll buy that for a dollar, and I’ll buy the set up with the black monolith and influenced evolution, but did it really have to drag on for so long, Mr. Kubrick?  Naturally, I have to remind myself that I’m looking at this late ’60s motion picture with 21st century eyes, but I grew up on ‘Ben-Hur’.  I think I have a sense of patience when it comes to movies, and the monkeys were really pushing it.  But, all bad things must come to an end, and when the monkeys are gone, then the good stuff starts.  I really, really don’t want to get in-depth in ’2001′, I’m sorry, reader, but I can’t do that.  You have to watch the film and experience it.  You may find yourself strangely captivated.  The special effects, for instance, look real.  Forget the hubub about James Cameron’s ‘Avatar’.  That’s a cartoon (but kudos to the artists behind it, because they’re swell!).  This stuff is real.  A good chunk of it I have no idea how in the world they accomplished, much less in the ’60s, and there’s no kidding about it holding up today.  It doesn’t just hold up, it surpasses, because of its elegance and simple photo-reality.  Of course, I would be amiss if I didn’t take time to laud the amazing use of music.  Since space is silent, and too much dialog would detract from the mysterious atmosphere, classical music plays over a large portion of the film, to great effect.  In fact, it seems to me that the space travel scenes are constructed in a similar way to the music accompanying them, giving a sense that humanity is in some kind of gorgeous, patient dance through space.  You bet I dig it.  The slow, almost real-time pacing on some portions of the film works to its great advantage, I’m glad to say, and Mr. Kubrick’s reputation is officially lived-up-to, in my book.  The sequences with HAL 9000 are warming, chilling and unforgettable, thanks to some great voice work by Douglas Rain and an emotionless red “eye”.  Gary Lockwood and Keir Dullea play two astronauts, whose encounter with the apparently insane computer changes them both forever, for better or worse.  Earlier on, William Sylvester gives us necessary humanity and warmth in the form of Dr. Heywood Floyd, who’s dispatched to help deal with the discovery of an alien artifact on the moon.  He’s a big part of why you stay watching the movie, especially after the debacle with the monkeys.  Unfortunately, after the HAL 9000 scenes draw to their end, the film goes all psychedelic for like, another twenty dragging minutes, and an astronaut ages in a kind of unreal room, dies, and gets reborn as a Star-Child, or space baby, if you will.  It’s all wonderfully unexplained (through dialog, that is), even though it is pretty obvious that it has something to do with an ever-watchful alien race assisting with the evolution of humanity, which the Star-Child appears to represent as the first new member of a higher human race.  It’s not too terribly cryptic, actually, which makes the ridiculously long psychedelia segment, which is basically content-less except for cool special effects, kind of pointless.  Kubrick could have realistically shortened it, considerably, as he could have with the opening ‘Dawn Of Man’.

But let’s have a go at ’2001′ from a philosophical/theological angle, shall we?  The central theme appears to be that humanity is part of a grander scheme in the universe, being guided ever higher, progressively, by powers they can not possibly understand.  Yet humanity must also, in synergy, respond, and reach out.  The monoliths, the faceless symbols of the alien powers, react to human touch, and every time they are interacted with, something greatly powerful happens.  One could argue, from a religious perspective, that the film’s underlying assumptions are godless, but I would argue the exact opposite.  They perhaps unwittingly express a very real desire to connect with the Divine, and to enter into the unfathomable mystery that exists “out there”.  It used to be in popular imagination that heaven, that is, the sky, was the place of the Divine, but it seems to me that this has lost its power over the imagination of a post-moon landing world (I don’t suggest, however, that in Christianity that it be changed).  Now, as in the final segment of ’2001′, we are constantly reaching and searching ‘Beyond The Infinite’, to where we sense we can evolve — by which, we mean we can become more human.  So humanity, as long as it is practical and taught in schools, will look to space in its search for God.  It’s the final frontier, according to ‘Star Trek’, but ’2001′ disagrees.  There’s always something beyond.  In all this, I see orthodox Christianity reflected beautifully.  Humanity, even before the much-contested idea of macroevolution entered the philosophical scene, has always understood that it must grow up.  Christianity in particular sees humanity as the image of the Infinite, and as such we will always be developing and changing and growing and reaching out.  As with the monoliths, this requires synergy, a combined effort of the Divine power and our own curiosity and willingness to, well, evolve.  Yet unlike the black, impersonal monoliths, in Christianity, God has become man, so that man may become god, that is, fully human, whatever that will look like (hopefully not as terrifying as ’2001′s Star-Child!).  In Christ, we touch God Himself, and we are taken beyond the created order into the energies of God, where our dark, corrupted nature dies and we are reborn as the new humanity.  So ’2001: A Space Odyssey’ has got my interpretation, now, and I hope you like it, Mr. Kubrick, wherever you are.

All things considered, though, ’2001: A Space Odyssey’ is quite a trip.  What it lacks in overall coherency and clarity in makes up in beauty, simplicity, tension, drama, and just plain real art.

Batman Begins

Stars:  ***1/2 out of 4

Summary:  A splendidly dark little picture, which, like all good movies, led to a whole lotta imitators and the latest craze of rebooting everything.  Gee, thanks Chris.

Holy Batman, Batman!

Review:  The man in the batsuit had experienced some crummy luck in the cinema.  The ’80s and ’90s ‘Batman’ series had a promising start, but quickly fell into unentertaining garbage, leaving a bad taste in the mouths of comic book fans, cinephiles and the general movie-going public.  And even worse than being boring, the cinematic Batman was shallow.  No longer would the Bat-fans accept a simple hero in tights, no, they demanded the complexity and incredible writing that Alan Moore, Frank Miller and others had poured into the comic books.  Thankfully, the Bat-fans had an advocate in the ‘Wood who felt exactly the same way.  Enter Christopher Nolan — and let’s not forget David Goyer and Chris’ brother, Jonathan.  The Nolans were rising stars, having blown minds via their disturbing and visionary movie, ‘Memento’, and they now had the clout to do something about the state of Batman. Thank God that Warner Bros. had the wisdom to hire them.

‘Batman Begins’ pressed the restart button on the franchise, even disregarding the much-loved Burton’s ‘Batman’ from ’89.  This gave them the freedom to do whatever they wanted to do with the character and the series, and they milked it for all it was worth.  Christopher Nolan drew influence from one of the best dark sci-fi films in existence, ‘Blade Runner’, to construct the new Gotham and its accompanying tone.  Appropriately, then, ‘Begins’ feels downright dystopian, and could just as easily be set sometime in the far, apocalyptic future.  Though we are given clear indications that Gotham is part of the present day world that you and I know, at times it seems that the city could be an oasis in the middle of a destroyed America.  In contrast, Burton’s Gotham from ’89 and ’92 seemed more fantastical and gothic, almost storybook in quality.  For the ultragritty, post-modern Batman, the ‘Blade Runner’-esque anarchic structure works quite beautifully.  This structure isn’t just part of the set design.  It’s part of the psychology of Bruce Wayne and the story itself, harkening back to Nolan’s ‘Memento’, which was all about that same cinematic interplay.  But while ‘Memento’ was played almost entirely in chronological reverse, which mirrored the mental defects and self-deception of its protagonist, ‘Begins’ is fragmented, with Bruce’s tragedies, bittersweet memories, and journey towards creating his famous caped persona all slowly being put together until they become present.  He’s been shattered, and in picking up the pieces he overcomes himself and becomes the hero.  Brilliant stuff, that.

Christian Bale fills the role perfectly.  There are times I wished he’d shown more of Batman’s trademark maturity and inventiveness, but seeing that this is Batman, you know, beginning, it’s all right that those elements can be growing.  Michael Caine’s Alfred is great, of course.  There have been some complaints about how well Katie Holmes’ Rachel Dawes may or may not work in the movie, but I found her character performance really wasn’t lacking.  She’s a good romantic character and makes Bale’s Bruce feel more at home in Gotham.  The villains, unfortunately, were a bit weak, though not unmemorable or lacking in good qualities.  Because Nolan insisted on putting more emphasis on Batman this time ’round (again, contrast with Burton’s movie), he ended up putting the main villain, Ra’s Al Ghul, more in the background, so even though the bad guy’s played by the always kickass Liam Neeson, he doesn’t turn out as strong as, say, Nicholson’s Joker, or even DeVito’s abominable Penguin.

Now, onto the philosophy.  The Nolans do love their brainteasers and soul searchers, thankfully, and they more than happily filled the need for complexity.  The sum of the movie’s themes is (taking a deep breath, now!) that humanity has inestimable value even in the midst of moral degradation and chaos, and this value extends even to those playing the role of villain, therefore mercy is more powerful than vengeance, and true fairness and justice serve rather than manipulate.  Okay, breathing normally again.  So Batman, even though he uses fear and intimidation against the darker denizens of Gotham, shows surprising compassion and mercy throughout the narrative.  Early on, he refuses to kill a murderer while under the tutelage of Ra’s Al Ghul, and ends up having to betray the villain’s League of Shadows to keep his integrity (by blowing stuff up) when he learns of Ra’s plans to destroy Gotham.  On top of that, while turning against the villain, he ends up saving his life, even though he didn’t know it was him (watch the movie, it makes sense).  Ra’s later chides him for this, expecting better from a pupil of his.  This comes back to bite the villain in a big way, later, as Batman grants his wish to not be saved and lets him die in a train wreck.  Not only does this stay in line with Batman’s classic code of no-killing, it makes a pretty good point, even theologically.  According to Christ, Ra’s behavior is a good way to be self-damned. By refusing to embrace mercy and to show it, some people refuse it for themselves and end up destroying themselves.  “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.”  The inverse, unfortunately, is also true.

‘Batman Begins’, of course, was a hit.  It is dark, gritty, dystopian, philosophical, and it is still pulpy fun.  If you’re among the aforementioned Bat-fans, this deserves your notice, and it certainly deserves to be on your movie shelf, and regularly spinning in the player of your choice.

Classic Review: Forbidden Planet

Stars: **** out of Four

Summary:  A masterpiece of tension and atmosphere!  With slick special effects, too!  You won’t believe your eyes and ears as MGM transports you to another world, 1950s style!

That says it all. Even if that scene doesn't happen in the movie.

Review:  The 1956 science fiction classic, ‘Forbidden Planet’, is a good movie.  I’m not sure I should say anymore, except that’s it’s really, really awesome.  No, I think what I should say is, it succeeds in being better than it has any rights to be.

Okay, seriously, I’m going to review this movie.  Here’s what makes it great.

This film is the perfect midnight fare.  I highly suggest a viewing experience with a large television, surround sound, and absolutely no lights, in the dead of night.  Try not to talk during the film, either.  ‘Forbidden Planet’ is so atmospheric that it’d be a shame to not dive in.  It’s like MGM Studios was kind enough to fill a hot tub with fresh, hot water and some sort of weird but healthful Italian herbs, spices, and soaps.  Sure, you’ll have to adjust to the weirdness, but that’s what makes it a singular and unforgettable experience.  Just soak it in.  One of the coolest features of this particular experience is the music, which is credited as ‘electronic tonalities’, because apparently the musician’s union at the time didn’t think it qualified as music (or so I heard) — I mean, this was the first film ever to have a completely electronic score.  In any case, these strange, otherworldly sounds definitely fulfill the old maxim that “sound is half the picture”.  Without this score, the film wouldn’t have near the sense of mystery that it needs to succeed.

The technology, though stylized and sometimes already a bit run over by the actual science of our day, looks beautiful and functional.  The set-design is superb, with gorgeous matte paintings substituting for an alien sky.  All in all, the special effects are ahead of their time, surpassing similar concept films of the same era with ease.  Particularly impressive is the landing sequence of a flying saucer and the combat scene between the ship’s crew and a giant, invisible monster, which stops in a force field and is unveiled in its grotesque glory.  I would be amiss to not mention the incredible artwork put into rendering the ancient Krell city, however, which gives us a fantastic sense of scale and complexity.

The story, well, I’m sure you’ve heard.  An earth ship lands on an alien world, to investigate the status of a science vessel that arrived there 20 years ago.  Only one survivor and his young daughter remain, however, and things get sinister quickly as it is revealed that the stranded scientist is not telling everything he knows about the horrible disaster which overcame his colleagues.  It is slow in pace, which is great for creating real tension and fleshing out the characters.

Philosophically, the issue is the inherent badness of human beings.  Buried deep in our “id”, our subconscious self, is what the film calls “the mindless primitive”, and what St. Paul calls “the flesh”.  Whatever you call it, the message of the movie is that humanity can never afford to be without caution in however much power it attains.  Without something keeping the dangerous, bestial side in check, humanity’s advances in technology will only lead to the most destructive outlet for the “monsters from the id”.  We may well destroy ourselves, as the ancient Krell did in ‘Forbidden Planet’.  The way I look at it, with this in mind, the classic warning that “Absolute power corrupts absolutely” is something of a misnomer.  It is not absolute power which corrupts; it only amplifies that which already exists within a person, for good or ill, and universally, humanity has a lot of ill will.  As the film concluded, “We are, after all, not God.”  And even then, orthodox Christianity teaches that God willingly humbles Himself and refuses to abuse His power, and sometimes even to use it without being asked directly.

Well, anyway, the film is great.  Don’t rent it.  Buy it.  Or better yet, find a way to see it on the silver screen.  I’m sure somebody out there has a print of it.  It’d be worth the sacrifice just to go for a walk on the ‘Forbidden Planet’.

Classic Review: The Secret of NIMH

Stars: **** out of Four

Summary:  A staggering (and under-appreciated) achievement in animated movies, and a serious and seriously good morality tale.

An uncommonly good poster for a movie of equal value.

Review:  I had seen Don Bluth’s adaptation of ‘Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH’ about, I don’t know, 7 or 8 years ago.  At the time, it seemed too dense, dark, and scary to make much sense to me, let alone leave a lasting impression beyond bewilderment.  Recently, I got into watching fellow reviewer Doug “The Nostalgia Critic” Walker’s material online, and he pointed out in his top ten favorite animated films ‘The Secret of NIMH’, which I had all but forgotten.  Intrigued by his very positive take on the movie, I made a mental note to see it again, but hadn’t gotten around to it.  Thank Jesus for Hulu.com, however, as I was pleased to find it in their library, and watched it immediately.

The first thing that struck me was how fast they set the tone.  In some movies, the tone is so confused or varied that it is very difficult to tell just what kind of movie you are watching from the get-go.  Not so here, as death, struggle, mysterious plans, friendship, and magic are all introduced in the first few lines.  Now, instead of going through the individual aspects of the film, such as voice acting, music, art, etc., which are all marvelous, I’m most attracted to the themes.  I should say, before going on, that this is not really a children’s film, though mature kids will get a lot out of it, I think.  It’s actually pretty scary and violent, though funny and heartwarming, too.

Mystery in the midst of crisis is the very essence of the story, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was watching a part of a very much bigger epic, which is a kind of shadow that looms over the works of Lewis, Tolkien, and other great fantasy writers.  I believe G.K. Chesterton would have aptly pointed out, as he does in his famous ‘Orthodoxy’, that this fairy tale quality is an essential element of the Christian faith, and indeed of all stories of magic.  In fact, I observed that the action of the magical elements was sacramental.  In ancient Christianity, sacraments are ordinary objects that by the power of God mysteriously (sacrament is actually synonymous with mystery) become something more.  Suddenly, bread and wine become Christ’s body and blood, oil becomes the healing power of the Holy Spirit, water becomes the agent of regeneration, and similarly, in ‘The Secret of NIMH’, a courageous heart and a simple jeweled amulet together can unleash unimaginable power.  I point out all this to show that this pervading belief in a kind of magic enigmatically invested in common objects is universally human, and makes for great storytelling, when played with the proper sense of awe, a kind of holiness.

Particularly interesting is the presence of mystery in the midst of such a dangerous and climatic environment as ‘The Secret of NIMH’ presents us with.  There are constant threats, and as the tension mounts throughout the story, so does the presence of magic.  “Where sin abounded, so did grace much more abound,” St. Paul said, though I am paraphrasing a little.  I like to think he wasn’t talking about the legal terms of sin and grace, but something closer to what happens in this movie.  Magic is a redemptive force here, and works in tandem with science.  In fact, in ‘The Secret of NIMH’, we’re never quite told if there is any distinction between the two, though I think I could draw one.  Electrical power, and the intelligence of the rats, are both fruits of science, and the narrative makes clear they can be abused, which creates conflict among the rats.  The character of Nicodemus, the leader of the rats and the most intelligent, is also some kind of magician, a benevolent sorcerer or something, and he seems to be able to tap into a power beyond the fruits of innovation.  The power he draws on, it seems, cannot be abused, because it works in synergy with the one who uses it.  This seems to imply that magic has a will, which is, incidentally, what distinguishes sacraments from other kinds of magical objects, as a sacrament is a meeting place of God’s energies and mankind.  Synergism is key to the sacramental.  Though we never get a chance to see what would happen if the villain of the story, Jenner, had been able to try to use the amulet McGuffin, I wouldn’t be surprised if it had an effect on him similar to opening the Ark of the Covenant, face-melting and all.

Which leads me to the next interesting tidbit.  The rats are sentient, you see, if you hadn’t guessed already, and even though they live in a world populated by your typical cartoon anthropomorphic animals, they’ve been given the privilege of true human-like intelligence, which evolves.  The big moral message of the story is about the struggle between the rats’ inherent animal nature and their gift of higher spirit, which they have to choose to pursue and nurture.  As rats, they would steal, including the electricity they use to power their under-rosebush city, but as rats reborn, they know such behavior is beneath them, that they can’t steal or be self-seeking anymore.  This, of course, is humanity’s struggle transposed.  We battle with our selfishness, our raw survival instinct, to pursue a higher ideal, to become better and to better everybody around us.  Once again, it’s a theme that Christianity has captured quite well, and watching this film I was able to muse on it.  Therein lies its brilliance.  Despite the gorgeous art and everything else that’s so great about it, ‘The Secret of NIMH’ is truly great because, well, it manages to be something of a sacrament itself.  It goes beyond just being an animated film and becomes a timeless gem of spiritual insight, by a power not its own.

Oh, and did I mention there’s a killer swordfight in it?  This movie ROCKS!

Terminator Salvation

Stars: **1/2 out of Four

Summary:  Though it feels like a forced fan production at times, ‘Salvation’ manages to provide solid action sequences and some decent character development.  All in all, a good prequel/sequel, but a bad stand-alone film.

This could either be a really good or a really really bad thing.

Review:  It seems like the ‘Terminator’ franchise has taken a huge dive off a cliff.  Going from the visionary James Cameron to whoever-it-was that did ‘T3′ to McG (and no Arnold in the starring role) seems like it should doom the series.

Well, maybe not, because ‘TS’ isn’t half-bad, it’s just a little bit under 3/4 good.  It thrives on familiarity — as with all films made without taking creative risks — but doesn’t let the trappings of the past keep it down too long.  The beginning, meaning, oh, say, Act 1, feels lazy, forced, pedestrian.  Once a critical character — Marcus Wright, this time, holding the titular role — is revealed to have a very fascinating, and, at this point in the franchise, unexplored nature, it starts to pick up.  Christian Bale as John Conner starts emoting, things get more complicated, the action feels fresher, and it finally feels more like The Sequel We’ve All Been Waiting For.  Really, it manages to strike a tone (in the latter half) that feels very, very much like T2, which is commonly hailed as the best movie in the series, so it’s got that goin’ for it.  Oh, and Arnold is actually in this movie, but digitally composited — very, very convincingly I might, and do, add — onto a double’s body.  His brief role as a freshly built (and naked) T-800 seemed to make the more rambunctious folks in the theater sit up and pay attention, and with pretty good reason.  Since he’s digital, he looks very much like the T-800 from the first one, and we get a couple great close-ups of his face in all its stoic awesomeness.  Seeing adult John Conner ambushed by this badass effigy of the past was surreal, though not really the most nostalgic thing I’m seen (the entirety of ‘Star Trek’ takes that cake and bakes it for me).  The biggest weakness McG’s received baton has is a lack of focus and freshness in the writing.  The creators were playing it safe, like an aging football team that doesn’t want to break some bones on the road to victory.  That’s my most, I don’t know, obvious criticism.  I just needed to see ‘em break some bones, take some risks, put more heart and emotion into the characters.  I understand, it’s post-apocalyptic, but does everybody need to stay so… flat?  Not everybody is, you understand, and it’s not like there’s no humor, it’s just… especially after seeing ‘Star Trek’, I needed to see more humanity, more dimension.  ‘Star Trek’ made me hopeful, its characters were full of vitality.  I guess it’s unfair to expect the same from ‘TS’, but it would’ve been cool.  The writing in ‘T2′ was much more vibrant.  Maybe the next time around, we’ll see some of that.  Anyway, another thing that would’ve been cool is if, against all studio wishes, it had been rated R.  Warner Brothers was really hesitant to release another R-rated blockbuster after ‘Watchmen’ failed to meet their best hopes, but that film was ridiculous.  And it’s not like R-rated action movies haven’t been successful in the past, heck, Warner’s own ’300′ proves that!  All the previous ‘Terminator’ turns have been given the ol’ roughsound as well.  ‘Terminator’ isn’t ‘Transformers’, it isn’t fun for all ages, it’s a very adult franchise, gritty sci-fi pulp.  When you establish a tone, you should follow it through with the next installments, to stay true to the spirit of the original idea.  ‘TS’ stayed true, but barely.  There were some very obvious cuts of scenes that would’ve made it more like T2, and it would’ve felt more… hmm, post-apocalyptic.  And there’s this one other scene I heard they cut that…

Well, where were we?  At the end of the movie, the emotions do seem to come through.  Connor’s stoicism is broken by Marcus’ efforts to save him, and Marcus himself becomes a Truly Good Guy.  It ends on a cliffhanger for the next film, which caused me to (mentally) facepalm.  I thought they didn’t want to take risks?  First you keep it from moving creatively into completely unknown territory, next you make it PG-13, and then… your ending banks on a sequel that may never come!?  Whaaaaat!?  Can’t they see IT’S A TRAP!? Ah, hazelnut.  At least they finished Marcus’ character arc — and since this is an, er, interesting prequel, they can just let it end here, I guess.  But we still haven’t seen the full breadth and depth of John Connor’s supposed awesome-coolness of excellence, which we DID! get a glimpse of this time.  You know what my ideal ‘Terminator’ finale would be?  Showing John Connor save the world, by making peace with the machines, which offer to give humanity comfort in the absence of the green, living world they knew… by plugging them into ‘The Matrix’.

Until next week, syanara.  And don’t unbuckle your seat belt just yet, I’m getting ready to introduce y’all to… The Silver Mirror: The Beginning.  (With an all new cast! Well, okay, I’m casting myself and Patrick.  And no one else.  But we’re new at heart.  Yeah!)