"Why else do we read fiction, anyway? Not to be impressed by somebody’s dazzling language—or at least I hope that’s not our reason. I think that most of us, anyway, read these stories that we know are not “true” because we’re hungry for another kind of truth: The mythic truth about human nature in general, the particular truth about those life-communities that define our own identity, and the most specific truth of all: our own self-story. Fiction, because it is not about somebody who actually lived in the real world, always has the possibility of being about ourself." - Orson Scott Card, Introduction to the Ender's Game
Reading fiction and viewing art in general is an act of self-creation, or better, self-realization. I have been tempted at times to think that reading fiction is a waste of time. But in so thinking I am potentially impoverishing culture. The question remains, though: How does a particular work of art re-create us? How does it form us? To imbibe in art without reflecting on these questions is allow ourselves to be constantly redefined, or worse, redefined in the way that our modern consumeristic culture demands. I haven't read Ender's Game yet, but I'm looking forward to it.
A personal blog, containing reflections, reviews, and rhetorical reveries.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Movies - The Hunger Games
Artistry: High
The Hunger Games is a captivating film. The heart of the film is Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence), who is a toughened, poor, yet courageous participant in the Hunger Games - an annual battle to the death between twenty-four children. It's rare for a film to have such a battle-hardened and yet feminine heroine, but Katniss Everdeen proves to be a character that you support and love. Her co-characters are fascinating in their own right, from a grizzled mentor (Woody Harrelson) to Katniss' eventual love-interest (Josh Hutcherson).
Where the characters succeed, the design and costumes of this futuristic world do so as well. Being grotesque, beautiful, and sad all at once, one cannot help but be immersed in this new world. That being said, the film's artistry is not perfect. The film drags at times, especially during the Games themselves. Moreover, the action sequences are the weakest element. The camera shakes incessantly, making it is difficult to discern what is happening.
Morality: Decent
The film is essentially a survival story and a romance. Katniss Everdeen has had to be a survivor from her impoverished youth, and now she must survive the greatest challenge of all. Yet as the film progresses, it unexpectedly and yet charmingly becomes a romance between her and another boy in the Games. It is a teenage romance, but quite moving nonetheless.
The film's weakness, though, is that it never grapples with the larger issues that the Games suggest. The film shies away from focusing on the grotesque nature of the Games themselves, and turns the Games into a battle between good kids and bad kids. This is a false note. Moreover, the film portrays the ruling class that sponsors the Games as sympathetic, which is odd since they are coldly killing children for their own entertainment and power. While the film's fundamental story is fine, it seems that it could have gone further still.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Children's Games
When I was an adolescent, I was fascinated by the 1963 film version of Lord of the Flies. The film was brutal and disturbing, as it portrayed a group of English schoolboys who rapidly descended into savagery after being abandoned on an island. This theme of children's inherent savagery has long fascinated humanity, and it has taken recent form in the Japenese hit Battle Royale and now the Hunger Games.
It's ironic, perhaps, that we cherish children's innocence and also fear their possible depravity. Are children like animals, apt to descend into violence if they are removed from civilization? I believe the answer is yes, and in this they are unlike adults. Before children reach the age of reason, they are very much like animals (and yet distinct, in that they have the potential for humanity). Parents must train them to be civilized, and without this civilizing influence they might never develop their humanity. That being said, I do not believe that adults are inherently depraved in the same way.
In another film, the Dark Knight, the Joker believed that adults would necessarily descend into violence when given the right set of circumstances. And yet, when the citizens of Gotham were given the choice to kill or be killed, they virtuously chose the path of non-violence. Virtue and love are possible, even though difficult, and we must train our children to so choose. Never forgetting, of course, that without that training and civilizing influence, children might never learn. Where would our civilization be then? Perhaps the Hunger Games might give us a glimpse.
It's ironic, perhaps, that we cherish children's innocence and also fear their possible depravity. Are children like animals, apt to descend into violence if they are removed from civilization? I believe the answer is yes, and in this they are unlike adults. Before children reach the age of reason, they are very much like animals (and yet distinct, in that they have the potential for humanity). Parents must train them to be civilized, and without this civilizing influence they might never develop their humanity. That being said, I do not believe that adults are inherently depraved in the same way.
In another film, the Dark Knight, the Joker believed that adults would necessarily descend into violence when given the right set of circumstances. And yet, when the citizens of Gotham were given the choice to kill or be killed, they virtuously chose the path of non-violence. Virtue and love are possible, even though difficult, and we must train our children to so choose. Never forgetting, of course, that without that training and civilizing influence, children might never learn. Where would our civilization be then? Perhaps the Hunger Games might give us a glimpse.
Monday, March 19, 2012
What do Americans Want?
I recently re-read some of Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics, in which (among other things) he examines the essence of the "chief good." It got me thinking about what Americans most ardently desire. Aristotle describes four possibilities:
1. Pleasure, that is, the satisfaction of the senses and appetite, whether through food, drink, sex, or rest;
2. Wealth, which may be considered as a means to buying pleasurable things, but which may also be identified as a sort of power;
3. Honor, that is, the honest praise of those whom we respect; and
4. Contemplation, which is the consideration of the highest things.
Of course, Aristotle believes that contemplation is the chief good, and this line of thought has been adopted by Christians as well. But what about Americans? A very wise man told me once that if you want to know what someone prizes, look to how he spends his free time. For Americans, free time is spent watching television, and modern television is an orgy of pleasure and money. If we aren't watching another police drama with scintillating hints of sex, then we're viewing endless advertisements remdining us of how we need more money to spend. Ah well, perhaps if Americans read more books we might seek that greatest good of all...
1. Pleasure, that is, the satisfaction of the senses and appetite, whether through food, drink, sex, or rest;
2. Wealth, which may be considered as a means to buying pleasurable things, but which may also be identified as a sort of power;
3. Honor, that is, the honest praise of those whom we respect; and
4. Contemplation, which is the consideration of the highest things.
Of course, Aristotle believes that contemplation is the chief good, and this line of thought has been adopted by Christians as well. But what about Americans? A very wise man told me once that if you want to know what someone prizes, look to how he spends his free time. For Americans, free time is spent watching television, and modern television is an orgy of pleasure and money. If we aren't watching another police drama with scintillating hints of sex, then we're viewing endless advertisements remdining us of how we need more money to spend. Ah well, perhaps if Americans read more books we might seek that greatest good of all...
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Movies - Unleashed
Artistry: Decent
Meet Danny (Jet Li). Danny is a dog. Or rather, he's a man with such a suppressed humanity that when his owner (Bob Hoskins) unlocks his collar, he unleashes a torrent of violence against his enemies. The story is how Danny rediscovers his humanity when a kindly family takes him into their home.
While the film has an interesting premise, it never goes too far. His experiences with his new family are touching and yet somewhat artifical. Moreover, the film never adequately explains how Danny came to be the creature that he is. Despite these flaws, the film is strong in style. The fights are elgantly choreographed, and the editing and music capture your attention. At times the film is over the top, and yet that is what writer Luc Besson (The Professional, La Femme Nikita) does best.
Morality: Decent
The power of family is at the heart of this film. The family he acquires as a youth molds him into a rabid beast; and the family he acquires as an adult reforms him into a sensitive human. As the film makes clear, the bonds of family are strong, so much so that it is difficult for Danny to break from the family that dehumanized him. Yet his new family and the memory of his mother ultimately redeem him. These are good messages, even though somewhat belabored in this movie. There is a few seconds worth of nudity and sex. The film's moral flaw, though, may be that it comes close to gloryfying and sensationalizing the violence it depicts.
Meet Danny (Jet Li). Danny is a dog. Or rather, he's a man with such a suppressed humanity that when his owner (Bob Hoskins) unlocks his collar, he unleashes a torrent of violence against his enemies. The story is how Danny rediscovers his humanity when a kindly family takes him into their home.
While the film has an interesting premise, it never goes too far. His experiences with his new family are touching and yet somewhat artifical. Moreover, the film never adequately explains how Danny came to be the creature that he is. Despite these flaws, the film is strong in style. The fights are elgantly choreographed, and the editing and music capture your attention. At times the film is over the top, and yet that is what writer Luc Besson (The Professional, La Femme Nikita) does best.
Morality: Decent
The power of family is at the heart of this film. The family he acquires as a youth molds him into a rabid beast; and the family he acquires as an adult reforms him into a sensitive human. As the film makes clear, the bonds of family are strong, so much so that it is difficult for Danny to break from the family that dehumanized him. Yet his new family and the memory of his mother ultimately redeem him. These are good messages, even though somewhat belabored in this movie. There is a few seconds worth of nudity and sex. The film's moral flaw, though, may be that it comes close to gloryfying and sensationalizing the violence it depicts.
Movies - IP Man
Artistry: High
The film is set in China, both before and during the Japanese invasion in 1937. Donnie Yen plays an implacable yet peaceful master of Kung Fu called the 'IP man'. He is an honorable man, an almost aristocratic man, and yet he is a Chinaman at heart. Although he has no ambitions for glory, the IP man is repeatedly called upon to redeem China's honor - and he does so by defeating China's oppressors, from Chinese hooligans all the way to a cruel Japanese general at the end.
Donnie Yen's acting is smooth and admirable, but his martial art skills are the focus. The fights are all mesmerizing, even though you know who will win. Moreover, effective cinematography and music effectively enhance the drama of the fights. For a martial arts movie, the artistry is good, and most of the characters are sympathetic or intriguing. The weakest point is Donnie Yen's artificial relationship with his wife, whose protestations of love never seem sincere. And at times, the film is too self-serious.
Morality: Decent
The film is deeply patriotic, as it condemns the Japanese invaders and celebrates the IP Man's symbolic victory over them in a martial arts fight. Towards the end, though, the film's patriotism takes on a tinge of nationalism. Nevertheless, the nationalism is kept subdued, and while the Japanese are clearly villains, they are given at least some self-respect.
However, as with many martial arts movies, the film focuses more intently on the deeper meaning of martial arts, that is, its honor, discipline, and ultimate benevolence. The film's message is by no means profound, but it is conveyed effectively. There is no sex or profanity, and the bloodletting is minimal.
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