An Interview with A Ghost Story Director David Lowery

The movie I was most excited to see last year was David Lowery’s highly acclaimed little indie film A GHOST STORY. The problem is that highly acclaimed indie films tend to arrive in Calgary months after everyone else gets them.

Then one Friday evening in early summer I got an email from my editor at Mockingbird. “We’ve been given access to a screener for A GHOST STORY and the option to interview the director. Would you be interested?”

I watched the movie. I watched endless interviews of David. I reached out to writer friends for advice. I wrote scores of questions and ran them past my editor. Then I had 20 minutes on the phone with David and it went really well. It was an open dialogue about the issues that challenge both of us. I’m rather proud of the result and I hope you head over to Mockingbird to read the full thing.

The Pursuit of Gorgeous Cardboard: A Conversation with John Charles Meyer of Dave Made a Maze

This interview is part of an ongoing series covering films appearing in the 2017 Calgary Underground Film Festival, published simultaneously with Reel World Theology.

Dave Made a Maze is your average story of a frustrated creative who builds a giant maze in his leaving room that comes alive and takes on a life of it's own. If you watch it, you'll be blown away by perhaps the more truly inventive set design we've see in a long time. To learn more about the production of the film, I spoke on the phone with the film's producer, John Charles Meyer. He had plenty of stories to share.

The project required a lot of cardboard.

Initially they were asking their friends to save scraps, which were "grease stained and folded in weird ways." So when they found a donor who gave them "an entire 14 foot box truck full to the ceiling of uniform cardboard that was going to be discarded," John was thrilled. This cardboard was "gorgeous stuff" and "we thought there was no way in hell we were going to need more than that." But a mere three weeks into production, the art director confronted John. They had run out of cardboard. So John started knocking on neighbourhood doors. "Right next door to where we were shooting [was] Eon Musk's company Solar City. I stuck my head in and said... "I'm shooting a movie next door and we need cardboard. Any chance that you throw out large quantities of cardboard?" They showed John a massive dumpster out back filled with nothing but cardboard for recycling and told him we was welcome to it any day. "For the rest of the production, every single day of mine started with me dumpster diving at Solar City for additional cardboard for my art department."

An unusual cardboard donation inspired one of their most beautiful scenes.

The script described the rooms in detail. From there, the art department "put together a production bible of sketches, filled with images of each room and the different ways that light might enter each room." But one day they received a large stack of cardboard sheets perforated with holes. "Originally we looked at it and thought, "What the hell are we going to use cardboard with holes for?" You can't make walls out of it and you can see through it." But that limitation inspired them to create a beautifully lit hexagonal corridor, which "we affectionately refer to as the Kubrick Corridor. It's really one of the most gorgeous shots in the film and is used in a lot of the publicity."

The vision was always to create something with a hand-built, tactical feel.

The film's director, Bill Watterson, has said that they wanted a "team of artists whose hands would be apparent through the process." As John describe it, "this is a story about a guy creating things with his hands. So trying to make the movie any other way - using CGI and VFX - would not only be wrong, but an insult to the intelligence of the audience." As a result, the film relies on stop-motion photography, puppets, optical illusions, and a fully working zoetrope. What's a zoetrope? They are Victorian-area mechanical barrels with slits that would be spun to create the effect of animation. Two of these were required for the movie's climatic scene, but since they had no idea how to make they kept putting it off. The deadline arrived when they were accepted into their first film festival. "Well, we thought, now it's time to figure it out so we can finish the movie." The final product "worked very well, but what I loved about it was that, just like the rest of the film, it was very handmade looking and a little bit wobbly."

The movie's 26 sets were in constant rotation.

Typical indie productions don't require much set up or take down. But a story of a giant cardboard maze required 26 unique sets. Only they just had space enough for two to be assembled at one time. "The art department would be working on one set in half of the room, while the camera team would be shooting on a different set in another half of the room. The instant the camera team finished on one set, the two teams would switch sides." The finished set would be torn down "and all manner of hammers, saws, and glue guns" would be at work again. Throughout the entire shoot, John was trying to keep the art department ahead of the camera's schedule. "It caused me a lot of grey hairs."

John Charles Meyer on set 

This film was a passion project that took 6 years to make.

The first three years were mostly spent trying to scrape enough money together, and then going back to investors, "hat in hand," begging for an extension. "When your first investor's money landed in the production's bank account four years before the film was shot, that says something. Not only [about] the faith of those investors, but also the hand-wringing amongst our team over whether or not we were ever going to pull this off." But John and his team pushed through. He took on such an extreme project because, "I didn't want to be bored out of my mind by whatever movie I took on." Despite all of the paper cuts and frustration, six years in John is still enjoying himself. "I love this story and I love what we've made it into. What kept me going was the fact that this was a unique, weird, fun project unlike anything else I had ever seen. I knew that if we pulled it off, it would be something special."

The film's story of frustrated creativity resulted in lots of participation.

John credits much of the film's success to a unique script so different from every other independent film. "We could have made a $40,000, three apartment, relationship triangle film and it would have taken two years." But the creative screenplay attracted other creative people. "A lot of artists who worked on this film did so for a 3rd, a 4th, or even a 10th of what they would have normally been paid. But there was a real sense of excitement on the set." Artists were happy to be there. As news of this story spread and others demanded to be involved, they gathered enough talent to complete the job. "This film is one giant metaphor for the creative process and the failures you have to overcome again and again." The cast and crew of Dave Made a Maze persevered. In the story their film tells, "the artist is finally inspired to finish something, getting to a point that has never happened before. If you can walk away and feel similarly inspired, then we've accomplished something."

 Director Bill Watterson, Co-Writer Steven Sears, and Producer John Charles Meyer

Thanks to John's work and the dedication of the entire team of artists, we can now be inspired this outrageous story. Dave Made a Maze plays at the Globe Cinema on Saturday April 22nd at 9:00 pm and Sunday, April 23rd at 9:45 pm and John himself will be in attendance. You can learn more about the movie by reading my capsule review, and you can buy tickets here.

Early Breaks and 'Regulate': A Conversation with G-Funk Director Karam Gill

This interview is part of an ongoing series covering films appearing in the 2017 Calgary Underground Film Festival, published simultaneously with Reel World Theology.

Karam Gill is the director of the SXSW documentary G-Funk. The film's a laid back and enjoyable chronicle of the early days of West Coast hip-hop, featuring and produced by some of the genre's most famous luminaries. The story revolves around the the career of Warren G., who was there at the beginning of the rise of the influential sub-genre. The film will have its international premier this week at the 2017 Calgary Underground Film Festival, so to learn more about the creation of this documentary, I reached out by phone to Karam. Here are six insights from that conversation.

Director Karam Gill .

 1. Karam was remarkably young when this opportunity fell into his lap.

Karam just turned 23 on April 8th. He began his career playing college soccer before tearing his knee. "My buddy was like "hey dude, you need to stop [playing] and get your life together again."" This friend was an artist working his way up and told Karam he was opening for Warren G at a small venue. This friend had "always known that I shot photos and videos and said, "If you want to come shoot photos, I'll get you backstage." Karam agreed to give it a shot and while backstage he bumped into Warren G. "I had the camera around my neck and he was like "what do you do?" I was like "I shoot photos and video, can I shoot your show?" He said "yeah," so I shot a bunch of videos and used them to cut up this little promo video." Karam sent this video to Warren the next day and the rapper responded. "He's like, "Wow man, this is awesome. Can you do this for me all the time?" So over the next few months I ended up becoming his creative director, handling a lot of his branding content, as well as helping design album covers, doing everything for his brand, and flying to New York with him." 

2. Other filmmakers wanted to tell this story, but Warren G. said no.

Warren's wanted to tell this story for a long time, but he was never satisfied with the creative visions proposed to him. "He told me there were so many people out there who wanted to shape it a certain way, or create... all these controversies in Warren's personal life that just weren't there." Karam on the other hand, first heard the story "while on these trips. We were around Snoop Dog and 50 Cent and all these huge artists. They would always have the utmost respect for Warren. I would always hear these little stories and anecdotes of their lives." Six or seven months in, Karam confronted Warren. "I was like, "Hey, you have the most incredible story... and nobody knows what you went through. So I'm going to write your life story." It took almost two years, but Karam eventually presented the script to Warren with a mandate. "We need to make this into a movie."

3. Another reason this took so long was Warren G.'s humble personality.

There have been many other hip-hop documentaries, but Warren's "never pushed to make this happen. He's just been like, "Yeah, it could happen." He's just a very, very down to earth, mellow dude. He'll be never be flexing his ego. I've learned a lot from him about how to be in the entertainment world." Unlike the other filmmakers, Karam wanted it to be organic. "It's all about staying true to what the story actually is. I didn't want to force anything; it's an interesting enough story without me forcefully making stuff up."

Karam and Warren discussing their new film. 

 4. Warren distanced himself from the production.

Since Warren G. is listed as the film's producer, I wondered if his involvement influenced the story that was told. But Karam told me it exactly the opposite. "His role was [primarily] to set up the interviews. He was able to make a call to Snoop and say, "Hey, I need you to be here, at this time" and [Snoop will say], "No problem!" Or he can tell Russel Simmons, or Dion Sanders to do the interview and they would do it. That was his role because they have respect for him." But Warren purposefully distanced himself from the interviews and the majority of the editing sessions. "He wanted the story to emerge without him being there over everyone's shoulder, pressuring everyone to say something."

5. Telling the story took a crazy amount of preparation.

The story was "very, very mapped out. I had these two big six-foot cork boards where I mapped out every single story beat and what we needed to get that story across." This made interviewing these infamous rappers much less stressful. "We were prepared, knowing exactly where I wanted them to fit into the story" which allowed the celebrities to "give us enough time to ask the questions." As a result, Karam was able to relax in front of these hip-hop super stars. "When they were getting their makeup done, or while the lighting is being set, it was cool to just sit and talk with them, and see who these people really are." At one point, Karam was interviewing Ice-T in the rapper's house in Arizona "and we ended up talking to him for about 45 minutes about life and how traveling is so important. Just all these random things. I'm sitting there and half-way through [I realize], "Wow, I'm really talking to Ice-T about this obscure subject!""

Karam and his debut feature film. 

 6. Despite his early start in the industry, Karam still wishes he had entered sooner.

His advice to other want-to-be creatives is "start sooner. With these things you gotta just go and do it. A lot of people psych themselves out and they are like "this might not happen, and that might not happen." You are your own road block. There's no reason for not going for it right away. Just go ahead and do it."

Thanks to Karam's work and Warren's incredible story, we can now enjoy this triumphant documentary. It plays at the Globe Cinema on Friday, April 21st at 7:15 p.m. and Karam himself will be in attendance. You can learn more about the movie by reading my full review, and you can buy tickets here.

Oh, the Horror!: Assumptions Season One, Episode 3

Daniel argues that many horror films deal blatantly with the existence of evil and often have strong religious themes. So why are they so popular amongst our secular culture? And why do most evangelical Christians avoid them like a curse of Satan? Does Kyle even believe in ghosts? 

Daniel argues that many horror films deal blatantly with the existence of evil and often have strong religious themes. So why are they so popular amongst our secular culture? And why do most evangelical Christians avoid them like a curse of Satan? Does Kyle believe in ghosts anyways?   Links to Media Discussed: The 1990 TV mini-series It (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099864/) and the original 1986 horror novel by Stephen King (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/It_(novel)). The 1960 film Psycho (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0054215/), directed by Alfred Hitchcock. The poem that Kyle struggled to remember was "The Charge of the Light Brigade" (https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charge_of_the_Light_Brigade) by Lord Alfred Tennyson. The character "Leatherface" from the 1974 film The Texas Chainsaw Massacre(http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0072271/), directed by Tobe Hooper. The film 2014 It Follows (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3235888/), directed by David Robert Mitchell. The 2016 film The Witch (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt4263482/), directed by Robert Eggert. Kyle mentions Book of Thoth (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Book_of_Thoth), an ancient Egyptian text of magic spells. The 1974 film The Exorcist (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0070047/), directed by William Friedkin. The 1984 film A Nightmare on Elm Street (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0087800/), directed by Wes Craven (who graduated from the prestigious Evangelical school Wheaton College). The TV series Buffy the Vampire Slayer (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0118276/), which ran from 1997-2003 and was created by Joss Whedon. We discuss the work of director Scott Derrikson (http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0220600/), who directed the horror films The Exorcism of Emily Rose (2005), Sinister (2012), and Deliver Us from Evil (2014), along with the recent Marvel film Doctor Strange (2016). He is a committed Christian (http://archives.relevantmagazine.com/culture/film/director-strange) and has frequently talked about why he thinks horror is the perfect genre for Christians (http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2014/june-web-only/prayer-dark-mysticism-and-flannery-conversation-with-scott-.html). Daniel quoted from an interview with Christianity Today (http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2005/augustweb-only/scottderrickson.html?start=1), which is behind a paywall. Here is the entire quote: "In my opinion, the horror genre is a perfect genre for Christians to be involved with. I think the more compelling question is, Why do so many Christians find it odd that a Christian would be working in this genre? To me, this genre deals more overtly with the supernatural than any other genre, it tackles issues of good and evil more than any other genre, it distinguishes and articulates the essence of good and evil better than any other genre, and my feeling is that a lot of Christians are wary of this genre simply because it's unpleasant. The genre is not about making you feel good, it is about making you face your fears. And in my experience, that's something that a lot of Christians don't want to do. To me, the horror genre is the genre of non-denial. It's about admitting that there is evil in the world, and recognizing that there is evil within us, and that we're not in control, and that the things that we are afraid of must be confronted in order for us to relinquish that fear. And I think that the horror genre serves a great purpose in bolstering our understanding of what is evil and therefore better defining what is good. And of course I'm talking about, really, the potential of the horror genre, because there are a lot of horror films that don't do these things. It is a genre that's full of exploitation, but the better films in the genre certainly accomplish, I think, very noble things." The book The Secular Age (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Secular_Age) by McGill philosopher Charles Taylor. The 1978 film Halloween (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0077651/), directed by John Carpenter. Daniel briefly...

Links to Media Discussed:

The 1990 TV mini-series It and the original 1986 horror novel by Stephen King .

The 1960 film Psycho, directed by Alfred Hitchcock. 

The poem that Kyle struggled to remember was "The Charge of the Light Brigade"  by Lord Alfred Tennyson.

The character "Leatherface" from the 1974 film The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, directed by Tobe Hooper.

The film 2014 It Follows, directed by David Robert Mitchell.

The 2016 film The Witch, directed by Robert Eggert.

Kyle mentions Book of Thoth, an ancient Egyptian text of magic spells. 

The 1974 film The Exorcist, directed by William Friedkin.

The 1984 film A Nightmare on Elm Street, directed by Wes Craven (who graduated from the prestigious Evangelical school Wheaton College).

The TV series Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which ran from 1997-2003 and was created by Joss Whedon.

We discuss the work of director Scott Derrikson, who directed the horror films The Exorcism of Emily Rose (2005), Sinister (2012), and Deliver Us from Evil (2014), along with the recent Marvel film Doctor Strange (2016). He is a committed Christian and has frequently talked about why he thinks horror is the perfect genre for Christians. Daniel quoted from an interview with Christianity Today, which is behind a paywall. Here is the entire quote:

"In my opinion, the horror genre is a perfect genre for Christians to be involved with. I think the more compelling question is, Why do so many Christians find it odd that a Christian would be working in this genre? To me, this genre deals more overtly with the supernatural than any other genre, it tackles issues of good and evil more than any other genre, it distinguishes and articulates the essence of good and evil better than any other genre, and my feeling is that a lot of Christians are wary of this genre simply because it's unpleasant. The genre is not about making you feel good, it is about making you face your fears. And in my experience, that's something that a lot of Christians don't want to do.

To me, the horror genre is the genre of non-denial. It's about admitting that there is evil in the world, and recognizing that there is evil within us, and that we're not in control, and that the things that we are afraid of must be confronted in order for us to relinquish that fear. And I think that the horror genre serves a great purpose in bolstering our understanding of what is evil and therefore better defining what is good. And of course I'm talking about, really, the potential of the horror genre, because there are a lot of horror films that don't do these things. It is a genre that's full of exploitation, but the better films in the genre certainly accomplish, I think, very noble things."

The book The Secular Age by McGill philosopher Charles Taylor. 

The 1978 film Halloween, directed by John Carpenter.

Daniel briefly references the biblical figure of Lazarus, whom Jesus raises from the dead in the Gospel of John (chapter 11). 

The 2013 film Ida, directed by Pawel Pawlikowski. 

Further Reading: 

Vice.com published a piece last year called "Why Are So Many Films Christian Propaganda?". The author's perspective is antagonistic to the Christian faith and he cautions readers to be cautious watching horror flicks lest by so doing they promote Christian beliefs.

Film critic Josh Larson of Filmspotting argues "a Christian defence of horror" in this short piece.

Lauren Wilford has a long piece on how the director of The Witch is a master of his craft and why the movie works so well on its own, without the feminist and Satanist controversy.

Credits:

Assumptions is written and produced by Daniel Melvill Jones and Kyle Marshall.

This episode edited by Kyle Marshall.

Our soundtrack comes from The Parson Red Heads, who have a new album (Blurred Harmony) coming out on June 9th.

Podcast artwork designed by Chris Taniguchi 

Photography by Jen Hall

This episode's title was directly inspired by friend of the show Blake I. Collier's column at Reel World Theology (http://www.reelworldtheology.com/category/oh-the-horror/).

Subscribe on Apple Podcasts, listen on Soundcloud, or look us up wherever you get your podcasts. 

Email feedback or questions at assumptionspod@gmail.com, or drop us a line on Facebook or Twitter. We'd love to hear what you have to say and hope to include it on future episodes. 

Don't forget to rate and review us on Apple Podcasts (that really helps us get the word out), and share and follow us on Facebook or Twitter.

Toni Erdmann

The problem with assigning films for yourself to review is that you have to write about them even if you aren't the biggest fan. That happened last week when I agreed to cover the highly acclaimed German film Toni Erdmann. As usually happens when you force yourself to write, my feelings on it clarified and now you can read about them, if you're so inclined.​

"Toni Erdmann is about the lengths one might go to pursue someone and the ways we mask such a longing for connection under a facade of professional ambition. It’s about the clash that can occur when an eccentric personality plants himself in the company of a formal society. And it’s a nearly three hour German film with an oddly surrealist flavour."​

Paterson

Last week I finally got the chance to see Jim Jarmusch's film Paterson. I loved watching it and it was the movie that I most enjoyed writing about so far this year. I'm pretty happy with the essay. 

This film is about the details of a routine and how the poet notices them and works them into his imagination. It's about the settled routine of a peaceful life and the significance of this routine's variations. It's also about the people in these routines - the strangers we serve through our jobs, the neighbours we bump into and interact with, and the quirks of those with whom we choose to live our lives. It's a gentle, warm hearted wonder of a film, carefully crafted to include incidents that work on multiple levels.

 Head over to Reel World Theology to read the review. Then take the time to seek out the film. It will be well worth your time. 

My First Screener and The Resurrection of Gavin Stone (2017)

In past years I've been so immersed in the independent and prestige film scene, I almost forgot about the strange world of Christian film I grew up around.  I was quite content forgetting, until I got an email inviting me to watch and review the WWE Studios film The Resurrection of Gavin Stone. The film was billed as "a lighthearted, family-friendly Christian comedy" which is exactly not how I wanted to spent 90 minutes of my life. 

After much discussion with my fellow film reviewing friends, where we debated the merits of wasting precious time versus accepting my first screening, I decided that taking the assignment could be way to strengthen my writing and discernment skills. And to jinx my career as a critic by turning down my first screener invite just felt wrong.

Watching a yet-to-be-released film on my iPad in my bedroom via a private screening link was a pretty neat feeling. If only I could access films like Paterson or The Red Turtle this way! One can only dream... But The Resurrection of Gavin Stone was actually entertaining. But it was also flawed, revealing a sad and dangerous picture of church life and what it means to be a Christian. It was a great exercise to think through what it was trying to say. To read more about that, head over to my review at Reel World Theology. 

Let me know what you think! And if you know anyone looking to screen some indie or prestige films, you know where to find me....

Public and Private Grief in Jackie (2016)

Director Pablo Larraín’s new film exploring that infamous week of Jackie Kennedy's life is a highly unusual biopic.  It uses a variety of film stock, shooting styles, and moods to peel away the various images that Jackie created for herself to reach her inner life. It's also a profound film about grief and features a truly remarkable performance by Natalie Portman. 

I caught the film last week and reviewed it for Reel World Theology. I'm really happy with the review and I hope you take the time to read it and to watch this fine movie. 

Finding Courage through Finding Dory: Pixar and My Mental Health

​For a year and a half I've struggled to understand my mental health disability. This weekend I saw a children's film, starring colorful cartoon fish, that confronted exactly what I've had to learn. Finding Dory, which just debuted to the most successful animated opening in history, is focused on a character with a mental disability and how she perseveres through it.

There is lots to love about the film. I enjoyed the relentless creativity that seemed to find its focus when the filmmakers limited themselves to the confines of the Marine Life Institute. The new characters, all with physical or attitude issues, were a constant delight. I admired how it emphasized that both family and close friendships play unique roles in life. But what captivated me was how the story of Dory's memory loss related to my own life.

The film opens on the teeny, adorable, blue blob that is young Dory repeating after her parents, "Hello, my name is Dory and I suffer from short term memory loss." Right from the beginning of both the film and Dory's life, there is a naive acceptance of her disability. Dory will struggle with this for the rest of her life and her parents are preparing her early in how to deal with it.

Dory's task, and the basic story of the film, is to locate her parents;n first within the wide ocean and then within the endless aquariums of the Marine Life Institute. It's a tall order by itself, but with the added complications of her condition, it seems insurmountable.

Seven years ago, the time came for me to learn how to drive. I took the most comprehensive driving course my parent's could find. I practiced and practiced. But I didn't pass. I still don't have my license.

Driving our family Sienna down country roads was easy enough, even enjoyable. But when I arrived at differing intersections, or engaged in complicated lane changes, or tackled at the tight maneuvering of parking, it got dangerous. I recall two separate incidents were I would have had an accident or even been killed, had my co-driver not yelled at me to stop. My brain flips the intersections around. I yield when turning left at a red light because that's what you do when you have to turn right. Or I stop but not look when crossing a highway. It's like there is a blank space in my brain that appears only 10% of the time. It takes over when I least expect it.

It wasn't until I received a formal diagnoses of my disabilities that it became clear why I was struggling so much. I was not just stupid. I was not just lazy. (Although my truck-driving uncles insisted otherwise.) I had a documented problem that was known to effect exactly this skill. So I accepted the frustrations of not being able to drive. I relinquished control and was at peace with the situation.

Just last month, after a year and a half of waiting, I made the decision to master these weaknesses and learn how to drive. The time had come. I was ready. But when I started doing research into how my disorder affects drivers, I panicked. I was confronted again by the reasons for my lack of a license. I wanted to give up.

In the film, Dory is confronted by impossibilities again and again. And she keeps swimming. She acknowledges her limitations, her weaknesses, and her problems. She knows she will need help to get around them. She's humble about this. She's honest, even to strangers. But she does not give up. Because she knows that finding her parents matters. This battle is worth fighting for, right to the very end. Watching her determination renewed my own efforts to learn how to drive.

At one point in the story, young Dory wakes from sleep to her mother sobbing as her father attempts to comfort her. They agonize over her condition. Is it their fault? Will their daughter survive? Have they failed as parents? Dory offers a heartfelt apology to her parents for her condition. Her parents offer their unconditional love and insist this is not her fault. Watching these cartoon fish cry over memory loss reminded me of the heartbreak my parents have gone through wrestling with these very questions.

But the film emphasizes another point, one that has taken me years to learn. Dory requires her friend Marvin's analytical brain to support her. But Dory's unusual, and very different personality is absolutely necessary for the success of her quest. Her out-of-the-box thinking, unique handling of prickly personalities, and enthusiastic outlook seem crazy and often on the verge of falling apart. But in the end, she is a gift to those around her.

It took me 6 months of fighting my disability through medication before I realized that my personality has both strengths and weaknesses*. I was created this way by God and while it will take a lot of work and understanding for me to work well within it, there is also much to enjoy about it. My uniqueness is a gift. It will have consequences both positive and negative. But I need to be quick to thank God for the way he has made me and relish the opportunities it provides.

The bright, jolly cartoon characters of Finding Nemo have been part of our social fabric for 13 years. How brave of Pixar to tackle dealing with disabilities in its long-awaited sequel. What a sign of their artistic integrity to do so in a story that's ultimately joyous, imaginative, and engaging.

*I realize my situation is as unique, just as everyone else's is. I've seen firsthand how medication can make an incredible impact on many people. I have also seen firsthand the pain and confusion it can cause. If you have friends or family on any kind of mental health medication, take the time to understand their needs before pronouncing your opinion. It requires much, much empathy, wisdom, and prayer to maneuver these situations.

Macbeth (2015)

​We humans are still finding unique and beautiful ways to make Shakespeare’s ancient text come alive. This delights me. So when it was announced that Australian director Justin Kurzel was working on a new film of Macbeth, starring two of today' greats - Michael Fassbender and Marion Cotillar - I got excited. When the trailers debuted with their stunning imagery, the film was projected to the top of my must see list.

In fact, I was so thrilled watching a trailer, I took a bunch of screenshots and arranged them into this beautiful grid. I wanted to show the world how breathtaking these shorts were.

I had a lot of free time back when I was sick for a month and a half.

Only the film would not arrive in Calgary’s theatres. The December 4th date listed on IMDB came and went. As each week progressed, my hope to see this on the big screen fell a little lower, until I despaired and stopped checking for listings. It was then that my friend Kyle pointed out that it was showing in one of Calgary’s tiniest theatres.

So, I got to see the film. Then I reviewed it for Reel World Theology. It was a fun film to write about, and I hope you enjoy my review.

Snowpiercer (2013)

The year is 2031. Seventeen years prior a worldwide attempt at cooling the earth to prevent global warning failed, plunging the planet into freezing ice. All infrastructure, culture, and civilization is now lost in an icy expanse, with the exception of a train that continuously circles the globe. In this train are the remains humanity, structured into strict classes where the rich dwell in the train’s front, living off the poor and ratty unfortunates who dwell in the train’s tail. 

Clearly such a story is shot through with allegorical implications. The director, an ever innovative Korean named Joon-ho Bong, acknowledges this by fully embracing the representational world, sweeping us away with the completely realized costumes and detailed grit and grime, all captured by claustrophobic camera work. The people living at the back of the train daily suffer from injustice. As they become more desperate they begin a revolution, breaking out of their guarded tailend, led by a stern faced Chris Evans, a lively and witty Jamie Bell, and a couple of other motley ordinaries on a last-ditch effort to claim the engine and confront the owner of the train. As they proceed up the train and its compartment’s are opened one by one, they are met by the bureaucrats and their armies of axe welding soldiers, commanded by bizarrely costumed but perfectly convincing Tilda Swinton.  The resulting conflicts are brutally violent, blade on flesh and metal on blood, like so much of our civilization’s history. 

The story, like the train, plunges ahead full throttle. It delights in surprising us as compartment after compartment are opened by the rebels revealing deadly twists and surprising turns. Main characters are killed off and minor characters become unexpectedly important. And as the movie hurtles towards its conclusion, we are left on the edge of our seat. How will it end and what vision of the world will it leave us with?

The train itself, containing all this is left of this world, becomes a compelling microcosm of the film’s view of reality. The train, and with it, all life, resides on a fixed track, hurtling along at a breakneck speed making an outside existence impossible. Its inhabitance focus on their misery or the distractions of their life but the few who glimpse the outside of the train see only hopelessness, a canvas bleak, chilling, and inescapable, who's inhabitants are “dead, all dead.” Ever and always the noise of the locomotive can be discerned, a daily reminder of its inhabitants vulnerability, sometimes grinding in the background, sometimes clanging and shaking.

It is a bleak and despairing worldview, but it does take keen interest in its inhabitants, their existence, and their reasons for life. We could argue that the story paints a picture of a cruel God, grinding away at an eternal engine, pushing his cold doctrine through a brainwashed power structure.

But the film’s ending succeeds in surprising us, with both a twist and a heart. Listen closely as the population’s only hope tells a story of his people’s early days. Recognize the sacrifice and personal cost in that story and see how this heart of compassion for the least of these becomes a key to the climax of the film. Compassion, in a world as depraved is what is depicted here, holds a gleam of potential light and with it, hope. 

Tracks (2013)

This review was originally written in June 2014. The images are from the film and are not my own. 

People are conflicting, confounding, and confusing. Our interactions with them reveal a fundamental problem with our very core. Some of us try to ignore confronting this problem by distractions. Others bury it in resentment. A few take a more desperate action, what some might call crazy but what could actually be an honest response to the predicament. Robyn Davidson (Mia Wasikowska) was one of these people, a spirited young Australian who was inspired and driven to do a feat that had everyone shaking their heads. Her goal: walk across the Australian outback by herself, using four camels and accompanied only by her dog.

Of course, a film like this has to be based on a true story, first recorded in a 1978 National Geographic article and later a book by Davidson. And like any episodic travel film, there are challenges that come with such a territory. The film tackles these challenges in a frustrating mixture of half heartedness and visual creativity. The half heartedness came from attempting to check off the boxes we expect in a film about such a wilderness journey; Robyn loosing her compass, or being attached by the wild bull camels, or getting to know the local aboriginals. Another challenge is the recurring scenery, but here the photography prevailed, finding creative ways to show the austerity of the desert, focusing on its shadows, its negative space, its heat and its whiteness.

But even if this territory felt flat, the grace and grit of Mia Wasikowska’s character holds and sustains our interest. Robyn is fascinating. Why would this slender willow of a woman tackle such a harsh landscape, peppered with such harsh people? Wasikowska’s face holds continued appeal as she attempts to read the people and environments she throws herself into. We are aware of every slimmer of loathing and longing that battle within her.

For it is people that she is trying to escape from, almost to prove that she is tough enough to be without those who betrayed her in the past. She tries to avoid those who pry into the curiosity of her journey. She shuns people who follow her, seeking to be alone with her animals But Robyn soon finds that a journey like hers requires the support of people. People to her train her camels, people to guide her during the roughest territory, and people to provide funding. And it is because of their contribution to this funding, National Geographic sends along Rick Smolan, played with a charming awkwardness by Adam Driver. Robyn dislikes him, for genuine reasons. He is pries too much and nearly ruins sections of her journey. He is annoying but can not be ignored.

In the end, when the animals she loves dearest are taken from her, Robyn cracks under the weight of loneliness. The arid, white desert that she wanders through is empty and void of humanity and the few humans she encounters treat her like an oddity. As she continues her solitary quest, a sort of shock sets in. In one scene Robyn sets huddled under the blackness of the outback, her terrified eyes and sunburnt face illuminated only by her fire. Out of the darkness comes a stranger, talking cheerfully yet unceasingly, his face shrouded in a racing helmet, bright as clown’s. “F*ck man, it's cold out here” he drawls, warming his hands by her fire. She is terrified of his harmless appearance and as he leaves his statement rings with truth. This world and its inhabitants are cold.

And yet there is something that can overcome this coldness and loneliness that accompanies it. There is a kindness that breaks through, persistent despite Robyn’s retreat. Strangers, themselves alone in this wilderness, take her in and offer her fellowship. Others, putting their own needs behind, guide her through the toughest sections of her journey. And one in particular goes out of his way to provide for her needs and celebrate her successes. It is this kindness that stands out against the harshness of the world and reveals the glimmer of hope still offered.

Her (2013)

This review was originally published in January 2014. The images are from the film and are not my own.

This isn’t so much a review as it is an attempt to describe my personal reflections upon seeing Spike Jonze’s excellent new film Her. In case anyone wonders after reading reading my thoughts, I do recommend seeing this complex and beautiful analysis of a modern human condition and I plan on returning to it again. 

Arcade Fire’s latest album Reflektor has been playing almost non-stop. I’m a little late getting into it (the album came out just before Christmas music season) but  the timing is perfect, since Arcade Fire also scored Spike Jonze Her. And it turns out that the themes that the album and the film explore are similar, as other reviewers have pointed out. Both wrestle with a modern problem, the challenge of a relationship that is sustained by technology

The film effortlessly realizes a possible not-to-distant future where slick software is built into everyday hardware, and where the auditory is emphasized over the visual, especially in the way we use our computers.  In this world no one minds who talks to their computer while on the crowded subway, in the busy square, or even at work. And this is all captured by a shallow focus and detail rich cinematography that complements beautifully the aesthetics of that world.

The acting is equally effortless. Joaquin Phoenix plays the melancholy Theodore who, despite both his vocation as a letter writer and the long standing friendships he enjoys, finds himself alone at night in his light-filled apartment, sleepless and turning to the pale light of his constant companion, his phone.

As I watched this scene play out, I realized that I must not be the only insomniac who turns to his phone for relief. Mind you, the film was intensely personal to me in many other aspects I shouldn’t be surprised. Like how Theodore enjoys a long-standing, unromantic friendship with his friend Amy and how the person with whom he grew up and shared so many memories with is now distant and hard to reach.

And so we are brought to the central message of this film: real human relationships are much messier then artificial ones, yet satisfy in ways the others never could. Theodore’s relationship with his wife Kathy stretches far into their past, as we are gradually shown through flashbacks and memories. The two grew up together, studied together, and are so intertwined as personalities and friends that their lives became inseparable. So when their marriage finally falls apart, the unraveling is so painful, it takes Theodore “three months to write the letter T on the divorce papers.” The scene where he finally finishes writing his name while she signed hers across the table was painfully real, merging Theodore’s memory with reality and showing the tragedy that is two people so joined together split apart. 

But Theodore was previously reluctant to sign those papers (“we’ve been married so long”). It wasn’t someone who encouraged him to move on, it was something. His new operating system is also his new partner and the realization of the digital relationships that kept him awake at night on his previous phone. Now to be fair, Samantha, his OS, is voiced by Scarlet Johansson, and is a captivating personality. And their chemistry together is so effortlessly realized that I had to constantly remind myself that it was just a performance. On paper too, this concept courts cliche. But on the screen it is realized with a tenderness and poignancy that is beautiful to watch. 

"You’ve always wanted a wife without the challenges of actually dealing with anything real" Theodore’s ex claims. "I’m glad that you’ve found someone." Part of the film’s brilliance is Theodore and Sam’s relationship it is actually more complicated then that. But as captivating and satisfying as Samantha is, in the end she is just a machine. Unlike her claim that humans and computers are both evolved matter and therefore the same, the truth is, humans are distinct and separate. Samantha is a replacement, a replacement that was not meant to be.

The more I think about it, the more I think the anthem for the movie is Arcade Fire’s song Porno. The song explores the temptation that is porn and the damage it causes in relationships and in lives. Porn is a replacement of something good for something that on the surface appears satisfying. “We are only here briefly, and in this moment I want to allow myself joy” a friend of Theodore’s says in the film, but this joy that she is seeking, as layered and alluring as it is, is ultimately artificial. And when Theodore has aural sex with Samantha, it is the culmination of the aural internet sex that he experimented with online earlier, a cheap substitute for the real thing, unnatural and wrong. 

So there something to learn from this masterpiece of a movie. There is superficial matter that is itself beautiful, alluring, and complex, but it can distract us from who we should be focusing on. There are relationships that are romantic as well as long-lasting friends and these will be tested, tugged at, and even torn. But they are worth fighting for and maintaining, even in our digital age. As Arcade Fire sings,

"I know you’re living in my mind

It’s not the same as being alive.

If telling the truth is not polite

Then I guess we’ll have to fight.”

Films of Character in 2013

This post was originally written in January 2014. A list of the top ten 2013 films is forthcoming. Images are posters of the films and are not my own.

This was an unprecedented year of moviegoing for me. Under the guidance of writers like Jeffrey Overstreet and the Letterboxd community, I propelled myself into films that I would previously have never picked up. These were movies of caution, great beauty, patience, and character.  I’m finding now that when I return to films which fascinated or thrilled me years ago, they now seem boring and tired. 

But this also means that I have been introduced to a number of movies from former years that could easily hold their ground on any best of list, so it is a little unfair to add them here. Note too that the line dividing the main list from the honourable mentions is very thin and that this list is in chronological order of watching, not hierarchical order. 

City Lights

Towards the beginning of the year I discovered that almost all of Charlie Chaplin’s films are online. I watched a number of them, some alone and some while the family was gathered round, but City Lights remains my favourite. I returned to it in part for its brilliant humour and classic set design, but mostly for the selfless relationship that the Tramp and the blind flower girl share, particularly in the closing scene, which is rightly called Chaplin’s finest moment of acting. 

Of Gods and Men

One reviewer said “I cannot recall the last film that so wholly, honestly, and movingly explained what it means to be Christian” and I after seeing this twice in 2013 I would have to agree. The men of the Christian monastery in the rural Muslim village, whose daily rhythm is captured so well, felt like brothers by the end. The film explores their decision to either stay in the village and face death in the hands of approaching militants or leave the people they were called to serve. Each man knows that his choice will affect both his brother and the larger community of the village. The village’s reaction to the brothers’ presence had quite the impact on me the first time I watched it and I explained why in my review. 

The Mill and the Cross

A wordless poem, effortlessly capturing Brugal’s painting On the Way to Calvaryin its colours, atmosphere, perspective, and sets. Filled with such  gravity, it grinds its participants with the weight of sin and suffering in the same way the grotesquely shaped mill of the title grinds its wheat. Grace is present, but only on its outskirts, something I would preferred more of. But it does make it the perfect pre-resurrection Good Friday and I plan on watching it annually during Holy Week. 

Breaking Bad

Perhaps the most moral show in television’s history, but I’m not talking about clean content. I’m referring to the tightly wound weight of moral decisions every character makes, decisions clearly grounded in their ordinary day-to-day lives. The show takes its patient time showing the choices unfold as a suburban high school chemistry teacher transforms himself into a drug lord, getting into the characters’ heads so that we can understand why. Yet the impending danger these choices imply haunt every moment like the minor chords that underline its theme music. A character study of Jesse alone would fill a thesis, but Walt pride is the heart of the transformation and going alone for the ride

Gravity

The first time I watched this relatively simple story about disconnect in outer space I was gripping my IMAX seat the whole time and came out of the theatre panting. The second time I was moved to tears by both Ryan Stone’s sorrow at dying without being taught to pray and the film’s powerful closing episode. My only regret is that since I’m unwilling to compromise the experience by watching it on anything other then an IMAX 3D screen,  I don’t expect to re-watch it. Proof that innovation and excellence in cinema is far from over. 

This Is Martin Bonner 

A sparse, simple story of real people struggling for redemption as they live  their ordinary lives. An ex-minster mentors a former inmate as they both work their way out of their cocoons and back into the larger world. Told with patience and grace, elegantly sidestepping any possible cliches, it is an example of the filmmaker’s power to tell stories, paint characters, and encourage the viewer to head back into real life having been reminded what makes it worth telling. 

Inside Llewyn Davis

A Coen Brothers film that follows a folk singer in the 60’s, accompanied by a soundtrack that stands on its own is sure to standout on any list of mine. This is a literary film that favours character development over easy answers and endings, and mixes grace and forgiveness with the bitter uncertainty faced by any young man struggling with his career. I’ve only just seen it, but I know that it will stand up to repeat viewing.

There Will Be Blood, fascinated by the quest for power, featured terrifying acting and grinding cinematography. An important film for Albertans. I admired To The Wonder for the way it effortless captured ordinary beauty, but even more for its wisdom in understanding that  love towards others and God requires work and commitment. The “Before.. Trilogy", Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, and Before Midnight, is simple yet incredibly ambitious. It’s also fascinating for its long term chronicling of the payout of a relationship that is based on our culture’s understanding love. Watching Like Someone in Love was when a foreign film humbled me, teaching me to better appreciate foreigners.Once is a low budged Irish film that knows more about human relationships then any dozen Hollywood films, O Brother, Where Art Thou is the Coen brothers teaching us about grace and power of God to baptize when he chooses. And Almost Famous  graciously balanced the need a young person has for the wisdom of home while honestly portraying the charms and dangers of the wider world.

Be sure to regularly check back to my Letterboxd profile. I’ll also keep this website up-to-date as I find more treasures in the year ahead.