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Googie apocalypse

BERJAYA

As I have my finger on the pulse of pop culture, I watched Wall-E on ABC Family yesterday. There’s an interesting aesthetic choice, which it shares with another 2008 cultural product, Fallout 3: the intro of each introduces the post-apocalyptic landscape accompanied by a soundtrack that recalls the pre rock and roll music of the 50s (actually, Fallout uses an Ink Spots track from the 40s,  while Wall-E uses a song from 60s musical Hello Dolly; the post-war, pre-neoliberalism “long 1950s,” as it were). This inserts us in a future world in which the apocalypse somehow took place in the 50s, or at least, in the aesthetic of the 1950s, as we see in the decaying Googie architecture and atomic-age trash that clutter the landscape in both. Read the rest of this entry »

Posted in film. 6 Comments »

How about the power… to move you: On Inception

I should start by saying that, contrary to this otherwise excellent article, I don’t believe that Inception is intended to be “all a dream.” (Spoilers follow.) Read the rest of this entry »

Cool Hand Luke: An Atheist Apocalypse

Anthony wrote a post on A Prophet a couple months ago in which he called it the “better Cool Hand Luke” (as Lenin was “the better Jesus”), with his analysis of CHL centered on the apocalyptic horizon of the film. What struck me as I rewatched CHL is how it is specifically an atheistic apocalypse. It cuts away the entire transcendent element and leaves only the immanent side of apocalyptic: the utter claustrophobia, the lack of any hope of escape.

In this perspective, the only “hope” he can offer his fellow prisoners is sheer fantasy, as he points out by sending them the doctored magazine photo of him with two women — tellingly, they refuse to believe him when he is returned to jail and reveals the ruse, just as they refuse to help him in any way when the bosses break Luke by making him dig and refill a ditch all weekend. This picture returns as the sidekick relates Luke’s posthumous myth to his fellow prisoners, pasted back together but still bearing a cross-shaped scar from when one of the prisoners ripped it up after Luke was broken. That admitted fantasy image hangs over the prison, but then, curiously, the camera zooms in (skip to about 5:30 on the video):

In the mythical retelling, Luke is already reduced to a series of decontextualized smiles, identified with a staged photograph — and when you look more and more closely, the whole thing eventually becomes meaningless. Hope becomes a coping mechanism, a way of convincing yourself that it’s better to contemplate Luke’s gloriously failed escape than to stage one’s own, and the net effect of actual “subversion” is to make the situation worse. After all, what does Luke concretely achieve other than winning the other prisoner’s money and getting his most loyal sidekick put in shackles? Is Luke anything other than Lucille (see below) in a different key?

Worrying about violence in film

Summer blockbuster season is approaching, and with that comes the inevitable worry about what all this violence in film is doing to us. Last summer, I already spent a significant amount of time dismantling the blog posts of people who want to find some way to square the instincts they were taught in youth group (basically summarized in the classic song “Input Output,” which I cannot find on YouTube currently) with the level of “actually good” culture that they have somehow managed to obtain despite wasting their youth on Christian pop culture.

A more sporting target, however, might be two pillars of the critical community, namely A. O. Scott and Anthony Lane, both of whom are really worried about the violence in Kick-Ass. Read the rest of this entry »

A Prophet, the better Cool Hand Luke

There is a story told, if you are in the right circles, of an eccentric academic who, though himself a Christian theologian, once described Lenin as “the better Jesus”. Now, heretic that I am, I’m inclined to agree with the spirit of this proclamation even if I don’t quite understand what our eccentric academic meant. That spirit works for the French film A Prophet, recent winner of the Grand Prix at the Cannes Film Festival. For A Prophet is a better Cool Hand Luke. I intend for that statement to resonate with the Christo-political statement of our eccentric academic. [Warning: Spoilers below the fold!] Read the rest of this entry »

Augustine and The Big Lebowski

From Confessions XII.25:

But I will not tolerate their contention that Moses meant, not what I say he meant, but only what they say. It appals me, because even if their explanation is the right one, the arbitrary assurance with which they insist upon it springs from presumption, not from knowledge. It is the child of arrogance, not of true vision.

In other words: “You’re not wrong, you’re just an asshole.”

The big blue Jesus: A thought on Avatar

There’s been some discussion recently on the racist logic of the incredibly impressive film Avatar. I completely agree with the critique in Aaron’s post, but I’d like to add something else that jumps out at me as a student of theology: contrary to one of Ross Douthat’s recent absolutely valueless columns, this thing reeks of Christianity, with Jake Sully cast as (an at first reluctant) Jesus.

As one of the “sky people,” Jake takes on a Na’Vi body and becomes literally “one person in two natures” (two sets of DNA). He has his own temptation in the desert, with the devilish sadistic colonel offering him his legs back if only he will turn against his official mission and follow the colonel. When he is unplugged without going to sleep first, he is accused of having a demon. I’m sure there are many more parallels, but those are the ones that jump out at me.

This is a specifically supercessionist version of Christianity, however. The only way to be saved is to renounce one’s human roots, with only a small remnant of humans allowed to participate — the rest are cast off into the darkness, never to return. Recast the human/Na’Vi distinction as Jew/Gentile, and this sounds pretty familiar.

Since it’s the day after Christmas and I just got back from the movie, my ability to take this much further is limited right now — perhaps we can discuss in comments, and maybe the opportunity for a more developed follow-up post will present itself. For now, though, I’d like to suggest that the fact that this film follows both a racist logic (in its romantic mode) and a (supercessionist) Christian logic is no coincidence and that this is something that race-focused critiques of the film need to take into account as well.

A DVD of interest

The Examined Life, directed by Astra Taylor, is now available on DVD. I saw it in the theater with The Girlfriend, and we both enjoyed it. Click here to watch the trailer (automatically starts).

Posted in film. 5 Comments »

Wherein are Éric Rohmer’s “Six Moral Tales” moral?

This weekend, I finished watching Éric Rohmer’s “Six Moral Tales.” They are strangely fascinating films — very slow-paced, even verging on tedious, yet at the same time absorbing. All six follow the same basic pattern: a very cerebral man faces the dilemma of wanting to sleep with a woman and yet feeling he shouldn’t for moral reasons; he eventually sets up a situation such that he can feel good about the fact that he went with morality over desire. They lend themselves to multi-layered analysis, but I’d like to focus on what they are implicitly saying about morality as such.

Read the rest of this entry »

Hot and cold violence

[With his permission, I am posting Bruce Rosenstock's comment on Inglourious Basterds as a fresh post, in the hopes of giving it the attention it deserves.]

It seems to me that when talking about the representation of violence one needs to ask: with what subject position is the viewer being asked to identify with? In Inglorious Bastards, the viewers are being asked to place themselves in the position of the Jewish/Apache squad and they are being asked to cheer (even while being made queesy) the scalpings, the beating, and the machine-gunnings. There is no pity whatever for most of the victims (maybe one exception: the new father). Is there a moral problem with this? Tarantino shows us a Nazi film that shows a sniper, and in the film the audience takes the subject position of the shooter and cheers at the deaths of his victims. Is Tarantino saying his film and the Nazi film are one and the same in their intentions? I think it is significant that Tarantino uses a sniper as the hero of the Nazi film. The sniper is someone who inflicts violence from a distance and precisely does not confront his enemy. Nazi violence is portrayed as hiding its face as it coldly snuffs out victims from afar (in the first instance of it, the victims are not even visible to the perpetrators.) The Jewish/Apache violence is face-to-face and hot. Is this a better way to commit violence? If such face-to-face, hot violence is somehow only possible against an enemy who shoots from a distance and commits cold-blooded murder, if it is revenge against this kind of cold violence, then perhaps it is better. One can argue that Shylock’s violence is of this sort, a protest against the hypocritical violence of the Christians that hides its face behind the mask of justice. When hot violence takes vengeance against cold violence, it arouses our sympathy. But any representation of this vengeance becomes questionable when there is collateral damage, when it becomes blind to whether it is attacking a perpetrator or just someone who looks like a perpetrator. Hot, face-to-face violence must never be blind; it must have the courage to look its enemy in the eye. I think Tarantino is very careful in IB to show us this kind of courageous hot, face-to-face, violence for us to cheer. Are we better off for seeing this movie? I for one think so, precisely because we come to feel what kind of violence is evil and what kind of violence resists evil.