For the first time since the Wall fell, nuclear horror is weighing on my mind.

I have no idea how many read this or know who I am, but for the uninformed: I grew up during the latter days of the Cold War.

Part of my mental architecture from those years are these pop culture markers: 

A Canticle for Leibowitz, Gamma World, World War III (the NBC miniseries), The Day After, Threads, Hackett's Third World War, Alas Babylon, On The Beach, The Last Ship, 99 Luftballons, The Horseclans, Snowbrother, Down to a Sunless Sea (very underrated), Testament, The Pelbar Cycle, The Survivalist, Miracle Mile, This Is The Way The World Ends...

[References to the above can be found on this solid list here.]

And they have remained there, despite receding quite a bit in the wind of change. 

But now those old feelings are back. I'm not sure what the strategy is behind this sort of tough-guy posturing, especially with the repeated hints regarding the grim change in Putin's headspace. The latter of which seems to be borne out by his speeches and forced resettlement of Ukrainians. 

But sure, why not?  

In the meantime, I've carefully avoided any use of the N[uclear]-word around the children. The pandemic already left enough to deal with. 

And yet, I'm going to have to address it sooner or later. What a time to be alive.

I saw two Oscar-nominated films over the past year.

Which is more than in most years.

As the song says...

I have seen Belfast and Encanto. I previously raved about the former, and now can put in a few good words for the latter.

Encanto is a "small" Disney movie, focusing on family dynamics instead of overblown themes, and is welcome for it. It features the Madrigal family, guardians and beneficiaries of the bequests of a magic candle that has created a safehold for refugees in the mountains of Columbia. Each member of the family is gifted with a magical power by the candle--except for Maribel Madrigal, who was denied (seemingly) such a power. 

The effects of the powers and lack thereof on the family members are explored with a light but knowing touch: no one likes feeling like an outsider in one's own family, and the burdens of guiding and protecting the family are heavy and leave their own scars. With a lively score by Lin Manuel Miranda, it's worthwhile. 

Warning for parents: while your kids may not talk about Bruno, I can gare-own-tee they will sing about him. 

Incessantly. It's the new "Let It Go."

 

Rest in Peace, Sir Sidney Poitier.

The ground-breaking star has left us at age 94. As with Jackie Robinson, he had to walk a fine, clean-cut line. 

But like Robinson, he was a thunderbolt who blew open the doors.

Although often simmering with repressed anger, his characters responded to injustice with quiet determination. They met hatred with reason and forgiveness, sending a reassuring message to white audiences and exposing Mr. Poitier to attack as an Uncle Tom when the civil rights movement took a more militant turn in the late 1960s.

Mr. Poitier with, from left, Katharine Houghton, Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy in “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” (1967). He played a doctor whose race tests the liberal principles of his prospective in-laws.Credit...Columbia Pictures

“It’s a choice, a clear choice,” Mr. Poitier said of his film parts in a 1967 interview. “If the fabric of the society were different, I would scream to high heaven to play villains and to deal with different images of Negro life that would be more dimensional. But I’ll be damned if I do that at this stage of the game.”

At the time, Mr. Poitier was one of the highest-paid actors in Hollywood and a top box-office draw, ranked fifth among male actors in Box Office magazine’s poll of theater owners and critics; he was behind only Richard Burton, Paul Newman, Lee Marvin and John Wayne. Yet racial squeamishness would not allow Hollywood to cast him as a romantic lead, despite his good looks.

“To think of the American Negro male in romantic social-sexual circumstances is difficult, you know,” he told an interviewer. “And the reasons why are legion and too many to go into.”

Mr. Poitier often found himself in limiting, saintly roles that nevertheless represented an important advance on the demeaning parts offered by Hollywood in the past. In “No Way Out” (1950), his first substantial film role, he played a doctor persecuted by a racist patient, and in “Cry, the Beloved Country” (1952), based on the Alan Paton novel about racism in South Africa, he appeared as a young priest. His character in “Blackboard Jungle” (1955), a troubled student at a tough New York City public school, sees the light and eventually sides with Glenn Ford, the teacher who tries to reach him. 

May God rest his soul.

Welp.

 

"Yeah, that might as well happen."

Someone finally solves the "Is Die Hard a Christmas movie?" argument.

And that someone is me.

The answer is: "No, of course not."

My reasoning:

“Set at Christmas” does not "a Christmas movie” make.

Look at it this way: if you remove the Christmas setting or framework of a film involving the holiday, do you still have basically the same movie or do you have something different?

If the answer is “different,” then it’s a Christmas movie.

Debate resolved!

I’ll fling a controversy grenade on my way out: 

Using the same rationale, It’s a Wonderful Life is not a Christmas movie, either.

My Much Better Half and I saw our first movie in a theatre in more than two years.

 

But it seemed longer. Heather and I didn't get to the theatre much before the apocalypse, as being the shuttle drivers for the various activities of our unsocialized homeschoolers limited our options and frankly, energy, for Yet Another Drive. 

Yet, when Amy said Branagh's look at growing up in Belfast during the beginning of The Troubles was worthwhile, I thought: "Why not? We liked going way back when." So we did--after our shuttling duties and other commitments ended at 9pm.

We had the whole place to ourselves.

I have liked Kenneth Branagh since I popped Henry V into the VCR back in 1990. Whether in front of the camera (the underrated noir homage Dead Again), or behind it (Cinderella and--yes--Thor), he produces. One of these sets of days, I'm going to watch his four-hour Hamlet.

See above comments re: shuttle runs. It is possible--we managed to watch Lonesome Dove over the course of a month a while back.

In Belfast, Branagh remembers life in a mixed neighborhood of the titular capital of Northern Ireland from August 1969 through Easter 1970. It starts off idyllic, with the eight-year-old Buddy Branagh slaying dragons with a wooden sword and trashcan shield, and then chatting with all his neighbors as he responds to the relayed call from Ma to come home.

Then the pogrom begins. The windows of their Catholic neighbors' homes are broken out by a rampaging mob of "fellow" Protestants who finish the rampage by detonating a car.

I use "fellow" advisedly, as it is clear that Ma and Pa are only culturally Protestant and not hatemonger material. Nor are Buddy's more observant paternal grandparents, played to perfection by Judi Dench and Ciarán Hinds, inclined to hate beadsqueezers. Indeed, even the fire-and-brimstone preacher Buddy and his brother Will hear one Sunday inveighs sweatily against damnation in general terms, leaving the papists out of it.

I mean, in the reverend's circles it's presumed that practitioners of popery have punched their passes to perdition.

And yet, the fact the reverend hammers the congregation for its own sins and does not even mention Catholics after The Troubles erupt is probably more noteworthy than I originally thought. He even gets a great line at the end about remembering a deceased family member.

The Troubles strike as the Branagh family faces its own troubles: a nearly-unpayable tax debt forces Pa to work (sporadically) in England as a tradesman, straining the marriage as the two Branagh boys become unruly. Pa increasingly wants to move the family to England because of better economic opportunity, which slowly materializes as he impresses his English employer. 

As the neighborhood turns into a walled enclave, Pa also wants to get out for reasons of safety. A pair of local Protestant slobs radicalize into UVF types and start threatening the moderate Protestants as well as Catholics. Pa has no truck with them, threatening to kill their leader after he tries to extort Pa. But it becomes clear the UVEffers are becoming ascendant, with all that entails.

Nevertheless, Ma repeatedly balks against the very thought of leaving for any reason. She is rooted in this Belfast neighborhood. It is home and nowhere else is. And she is right, and quite persuasive.

That is, until it no longer is home--not any more. No matter how much you wish it were otherwise.

For Buddy and the family, the theatre (stage and screen) is an escape, and Branagh films the theatrical depictions in color: Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang, One Million Years B.C. (which annoys Ma considerably, for some reason), A Christmas Carol. Everything else--including the TV--is black and white. 

It mostly works, though the reference to High Noon (which Buddy watches on TV) is a bit too heavy-handed in a later scene.

But the odd moment or two aside, Belfast hangs together beautifully. Branagh conveys a sense of place, of roots, of a neighborhood where the commonalities outweigh sectarian differences--right down to betting the horses and waking deceased loved ones in the home. They're all Belfast Irish, Protestant or Catholic. It does not matter.

Until, one horrible summer, it did--and the old neighborhood slowly died.

All of the main players--newcomer Jude Hill, Jamie Dornan, Caitriona Balfe, the aforementioned Dench and Hinds--are superb. And yes, my fellow Americans, the Ulster accent, while not Glaswegian, takes some getting used to. However, you will understand everyone after some exposure.

The film ends with a dedication to all of Belfast--those who left, those who stayed, and those who were lost. Go see it--it is well worth whatever you spend to see it on the big screen. The theatre will certainly be happy to see you, too.

Afterwards, make sure to appreciate your own neighborhoods. 

And then imagine what they might look like after another couple decades of polarization.

My preferred metaphor for our moment.

Arrogance. 

Corruption.

Failure.

Catastrophe. 

But also glints of virtue: Duty. Heroism.

Still, the roentgen count is looking grim, no matter where you want to apply the metaphor. 

 

Need to see this one again.

"So now you give the Devil the benefit of law!"

"Yes! What would you do? Cut a great road through the law to get after the Devil?"

"Yes, I'd cut down every law in England to do that!"

"Oh? And when the last law was down, and the Devil turned 'round on you, where would you hide, Roper, the laws all being flat? This country is planted thick with laws, from coast to coast, Man's laws, not God's! And if you cut them down--and you're just the man to do it--do you really think you could stand upright in the winds that would blow then? Yes, I'd give the Devil benefit of law--for my own safety's sake!"

 

Film Review.

I am morally certain it was Nate Winchester who referred me to a snippet from the film being reviewed today--for which, many thanks.

Along With The Gods: The Two Worlds is a recent (2017) Korean film, and the Blu-Ray only offers English subtitles, no dubs. So if that bothers you, alas.

For those who are more amenable, AWTG is an old-school crowd-pleaser that offers plenty of Matrix-like action, humor and jerking of tears.

The film is the story of a young South Korean fireman, Kim Ja-hong, who dies in the line of duty. He is then escorted through what is asserted to be the Buddhist afterlife, with his conduct and sins judged by the various gods of the Buddhist hells.

Now, what I know about Buddhism can fit into an authoritative-sounding paragraph, so I am in no position to assess whether the Buddhist Last Things are accurately depicted. However, given (1) East Asia's tendency to smorgasbord the big religions (Buddhism, Taoism, Confucianism) and (2) the proclivity of movie studios worldwide for cack-handling of matters religious, I suspect it should not be relied upon as a careful canonical depiction.

In any event, the story works well enough on its own terms.

After he dies, Kim Ja-hong is greeted by his three guardians, who are to escort him through the stations of judgment in the afterlife. He is believed by all three to be a paragon, whose moral rectitude warrants his immediate reincarnation. But he will have to pass the judgement of the Gods of the Hells first--and there are two giddy devil's advocates (to borrow from the Catholic tradition) who are all too enthusiastic about undercutting Ja-hong's alleged sanctity to send him to any of the very-Christian-like Hells.

[Mild spoiler-y warning.]

Along the way, it turns out that the efforts to undercut Ja-hong are thwarted by the determined efforts of his guardians, who manage to show what Paul Harvey fans recognize as The Rest of the Story. 

And the guardians are extremely well motivated, as they will be seriously punished if they try to pass off a fraud as a paragon.

And so it proceeds until Ja-hong faces the last test before the Hell of Filial Impiety.

Here is where things become complicated: Ja-hong's family life was unhappy. His father was absent, his mother is deaf and mute, and his surviving brother loathes him.

A shocking incident is shown, horrifying the Guardians, appalling the final judge, King Yeomra, and making the devil's advocates rejoice.

What happens throughout this portion of the film has to be seen to appreciate it.

So I will give you no spoilers.

From a technical aspect, the film is very solid. The main players--especially the guardians--are excellent. And one of the side characters is not only not exactly what the character appears to be, it is strongly suggested the character is God. Doing what the Almighty does, making sure the scales are just and intervening with nudges to ensure that justice is done. 

It is a worthwhile film, if not flawless. The moving to a side story involving Ja-hong's brother is somewhat clumsily-handled, disrupting the narrative flow. And it tries a little too hard and too often to offer humor where it could have been avoided. Then again, when the humor works, it works well. Finally, there's an interesting look and sin and forgiveness, with Yeomra making sure all and sundry know about the effect of the latter.

Overall, I was pleased to discover it and am happy to recommend it.

 

"As Good As It Gets" is one of my favorites.

Because the writing is brilliant and each of the main performers is up to the task. This is from one of the many scenes that have stuck with me.

Carol Connelly: We all have these terrible stories to get over, and you...

Melvin Udall: It's not true. Some of us have great stories, pretty stories that take place at lakes with boats and friends and noodle salad. Just no one in this car. But a lot of people, that's their story. Good times, noodle salad. What makes it so hard is not that you had it bad, but that you're that pissed that so many others had it good.

[pause]

Carol Connelly: No. I don't think so.

Simon Bishop: Not it at all, really.

Melvin Udall: "Not it at all," huh? OK.

New Batman v. Superman Teaser Trailer.

Color me intrigued.

Not for the Staring Contest part, but for the way Batman's captors kneel before Kal-El as he comes down the hallway. Remember Jor-El's line to his wife as they prepared to launch their only child to the stars?

"He will be a god to them."

Apparently, Zach Snyder didn't mean that as a throwaway.

I liked Man of Steel, even if it needed some editing down--after a while, it was just way too much mayhem. 

This might be a quieter movie, and thus all the better for it. 

A preview of coming attractions.

In our post-Christian world, we have forgotten certain things. Such as the fact that, throughout much of its bloody history, mankind has worshiped some horrific beings, gods of death and destruction with ghastly, grisly rites. Suppressed, thankfully, by the triumph of Christendom. Though the pagan Romans deserve a little credit for ending the rites of Carthage. Alas, that they duplicated those rites in their own way...

The post-Christian world thinks it has said goodbye to both Christianity and its predecessors. Don't be so sure. Supernature abhors a vacuum, too.

It's also worthwhile to ponder the reaction of the website to this horrid crime. Note the annoyance of one of the website's contributors, who seems peeved to even have to address the thing. There's a contractual obligation note of condolence, at the end, but it's otherwise a cold defense of the site. Not a hint of soul searching, suggesting the writer's might be shriveled a bit.

I guess I need to address this because it is now relevant. If you haven't heard already, two 12-year-old Wisconsin girls attempted to murder one of their classmates because they were inspired by the Slenderman mythology. I won't go much into details, so here is the article of the story. 

According to the story, the girls read about Slenderman here on this wiki, and of course the usual response lead to hostility and blaming towards the wiki by some "very concerned parents". Some calling for the censorship and shutdown of the wiki.

Will these people succeed on their quest? Most likely not. These are the same people who think violent video games help create mass murderers, because it is convenient to blame and point fingers.

Besides the backlash, this incident shows what happens when the line of fiction and reality ceases to exist. When a person truly believes that Internet short stories are cold hard facts. When a person attempts to replicate works of fiction to the point others are harmed. And for this, I'm going to make myself loud and clear: 

ALL WORKS PRESENTED ON THIS WIKI AND OTHER SITES (INCLUDING SLENDERMAN, JEFF THE KILLER, BEN, SONIC.EXE, ETC) ARE FICTIONAL STORIES AND CHARACTERS
 
Of course, only a small minority of people (mostly newcomers) on the wiki (and the Internet) truly believe what they read here. And for most people, they will not attempt replicate atrocities presented in some of the literature on the wiki. Something like this was bound to happen, considering the size of the Creepypasta community. All it takes is one person to do something insane and radical in the name of someone or something. 

This is an isolated incident, and does not represent or attribute the Creepypasta community as a whole. This wiki does not endorse or advocate for the killing, worship, and otherwise replication of rituals of fictional works. There is a line of between fiction and reality, and it is up to you to realize where the line is. We are a literature site, not a crazy satanic cult.

For most of you reading this, you're probably thinking this is a no-brainier that stories here are mere fiction and know that they are just mere fiction. This blog addresses to newcomers and "die-hard believers", who will otherwise, likely to believe in these stories.
Hopefully, the gruesome crime that happened in Wisconsin will not repeat itself again, and our hearts go out to the families affected by this crime.

Translation? "Somebody else's problem." Feel the solidarity. 

Hey, at least individual creativity is upheld, dude. Ah, nihilism (language warning):

It's still a wonderful life.

But Sean Dailey points out in a fine piece that it's not as simple as it appears:

Such an analysis may strike fans of the movie as a bit off, given that, on a certain level, it is a cornball movie. It’s a Wonderful Life has corny dialogue, corny humor, slapstick, hijinks and low-jinks. But beneath all that, it also is a very dark film. Opening with George’s friends praying that he can be found before he does the unthinkable, death hangs over it, and each death, even the deaths George prevents, sends him in directions he does not want to go, pulling him further and further from his dreams and ambitions, turning him into every bit the “warped, frustrated young man” that Mr. Potter says he is.

Read it all.

Quick DVD review.

I had a chance to watch Cloverfield over the weekend.

Short take: it's very good. I didn't have a problem with the shaky camera, but that's probably because I didn't see it in the theatre. The editing is crucial, as it is what keeps it fresh and moving--you have a sense of "real time" immediacy, but the film covers just shy of seven hours chronologically (in 80 minutes of film time).

Despite the violent subject matter--monster emerges from the sea and decides to trash Manhattan--the film is not gory and keeps the worst matter offscreen or tastefully obscured.

Yes, it owes an obvious debt to Godzilla (the hero of the film just misses going to Japan to avoid the monster, nudgenudge) and plays like that at times. It also strongly reminded me of the sadly-neglected Miracle Mile, which has a similar plot. There are also inescapable nods to 9/11, especially with the destruction of the Woolworth Building and the shockwave of dust which follows. In fact, one of the commentaries admits that Youtubes of 9/11 personal home videos guided the project.

The characters are more types than people: the hero, the damsel in distress, the genuinely funny sidekick, the mother hen, the loner. But they are likeable enough, and the scene where the hero decides to venture into the war zone to rescue his lady love is very well done. The military is depicted as brave and competent, if outmatched, and there's no suggestion of X-Filesish conspiracy here (except in one supposition by the funny sidekick who admits he just wants to hear himself talk).

Well worth a rent.

Cinderella.

If you haven't seen Cinderella Man, see it. As in, right now.

All right--quick summary:

CM is the improbable comeback story of boxer James J. Braddock, the heavyweight champion right before Joe Louis. Braddock was a contender in the late 20s until he broke his left hand. His savings wiped out by the Great Depression, he ended up moving into a basement apartment with his wife and three kids. He was lucky enough to get work on the docks, which forced him to use his left hand, progressively strengthening it. He gets a chump match at the last minute at Madison Square Garden and scores a titanic upset of the No. 2 heavyweight, his now hammer-like left hand helping to knock out his stunned opponent before an even more stunned audience.

I think the pivotal scene in Cinderella Man is not the heavyweight match with Max Baer (who was done an injustice by the film, not so BTW), as impressive a bit of sports cinema as it is. No, the crucial scene is Braddock's fight with the No. 1 contender, Art Lasky, the last step before facing Baer. Frankly, Lasky mauls Braddock, breaking a rib and battering him from one end of the ring to the other. Finally, Lasky throws his best shot, a titanic right hook, smashing Braddock to the canvas and knocking his mouth guard out. The count begins, and Braddock is seeing double.

Then he starts flashing back to his family in poverty, being reduced to nothing, and he pulls himself to his feet. Not even wobbling, he smiles at Lasky and walks over to pick up his mouth guard, still smiling. A smile that says, louder than any speech, "Kid, you'd better pray to God that wasn't the best you got."



Alas for Lasky, it was, and the scene shows him watching Braddock in disbelief as the latter takes up residence in his head, shortly before turning the tables and beating the snot out of him.

That's what happened last night. No, not to Biden, but rather to all of Gov. Palin's detractors. Sure, she's had an awful stretch--no one watching the Couric interview could do anything but wince.

But last night she got back off the canvas with a smile after having taken the worst pummeling in modern political history, and sent her detractors to the mat for a ten count. Regardless of what happens this year (and the odds aren't great and haven't been), she's here to stay.

I haven't seen the movie yet and this is still hilarious.

Thanks to Victor for his review of "Kit Kittredge."

It inspired us to see a morning screening of the film as a family on Sunday.

Really, if you have a chance, go see it. Kit is excellent family entertainment in the old-school sense. And I admit to absolute bafflement about some critics' product placement critique--it's nonsensical to the extreme. Going to be hard for me to find a '32 Buick, for starters. There isn't a whiff of the pushing of the American Girl franchise, either.

It was good, with fine acting (including a nice bit part by one of my favorite comic actors, Colin Mochrie) and good writing. A touch sentimental, yes, but it conveyed the shock of the Great Depression at a very good level for kids. There isn't an objectionable moment in the whole thing, and Victor's right: if we don't support quality family entertainment, we aren't going to get more of it.

Take. See.

Awakenings, Robots, the Human Spirit and Other Trifles.

I think Rod has pegged Wall-E very well--read it all. But 'ware the spoilers, which are extensive. And this commentary is ever-so-slightly spoilery, too.

It is a great film, and, like Ratatouille, a risky one. As with all things Pixar, it is technically flawless, a film that repays multiple viewings just for the artistry alone.

On to themes.

It is a movie about tradition, connecting with others, being distracted by Things, the human spirit, love, using technology rightly (as opposed to casting it aside altogether) and the indispensibility of the natural world.

And it does so with less dialogue than any other film you will see this year.

To dismiss it as kiddie-friendly environmentalist propaganda only--and ironically--proves how disconnected some people have gotten, especially those who identify themselves as conservatives.

If conservative "thought" requires you to kick the film away with a knee-jerk, then you are welcome to it. Enjoy life in the solipsodome.

Such as it is.

Let me just add, in my patented Certainly Reading WAAAAY Too Much Into It Review Mode that I think that Wall-E also makes two other subtle nods.

First, to the importance of both Moms and Dads in making things work. Both Wall-E and EVE have to protect the plant, and without both, all would have been lost. I don't think that one goes too far afield.

Second--and all aboard for Conjectureville--I think there is a Jesus/baptism metaphor in Wall-E's encounters with Mary and John, both of whom the robot wakes from their waking, disconnected slumber.

"We have a pool?"

They go to the pool and are changed. They feel real joy for the first time in their lives. They ignore the "no splashing" command from the robot supervisor. They rescue the falling children when the Axiom tilts. In other words, after going to the pool, the two of them stay in Reality--the True, the Good and the Beautiful--and never return Plato's cave (to homogenize my metaphors). Siloam, anyone?

Yeah, ok--I'm the guy who can read a "Peter vs. Judas" subtext into Falling Down. Still....

Do not let my hallucinatory Christianist godbothering deter you from seeing it. The film has something for anyone of good will.

Best Forgotten Teen Flicks of the 80s.

MSN offers its list and a better poll here.

Of their list, I saw only The Last American Virgin--and I rather liked it, including the ending. Much more realistic than most. Then again, I was an oft-bitter, dateless nerd in high school, so YMMV.

The poll is better, and I saw three of those:

Real Genius, which my Much Better Half regards as the Citizen Kane of the 80s;

Lucas; and

Three O'Clock High.

I liked the other two well enough, but the last was a classic, High Noon for the Ferris Buehler set. The opposite in resolution from TLAV, it's just one of those great nerd underdog flicks. If you haven't seen it, see it. Unjustly forgotten.

In a manner reminiscent of Jenghis Khan...

I want to see this: Mongol, the first in a trilogy about the life of Genghis Khan. If Roger Ebert gives his imprimatur, I'm willing to truck off to see it. Victor?

One of the epochal figures in human history, Genghis unleashed a typhoon upon the world. Some parts of the world have never recovered from what he wrought, and some only partially. Actually beating the Mongols in battle was something to boast about for approximately ever, and only a handful did before the 15th Century (the Egyptian Mamluks, the Russians). And their enemies were well-advised to defeat them or surrender without a fight because the alternative was a Carthaginian peace. What saved their enemies more often was the practice of recalling all of the subordinate leaders of the Great Khan to Mongolia upon the death of the Khan. That's almost certainly what saved central Europe from devastation in the 1240s.