Lord of the dance

I was listening recently to Pixie Lott's Boys and Girls on the radio. It got me thinking: why are there so many pop songs about dancing?

I guess at one level there's an easy answer to this question: because a lot of the songs that are popular are played in pubs and clubs where people go to dance. But why is dancing championed in so many songs?

Of course, dancing is fun ('it sure feels good, feels good, yeah, we're gonna lose control'). But there's more too it. Again, as Pixie puts it, 'when the beat kicks in you feel it in your bones.' It's interesting to think that many people feel at their most 'free' and their most 'natural' when they're abandoned from their cares and concerns in dance (at least at the points when they're not worried about what people think of their dancing).

Perhaps we love dancing so much because we yearn to be away from our troubles and be in perfect sync with our surroundings.

District 9

District 9 is the much-hyped movie on current release; the current Number 1 in the UK box office, and reckoned to be pushing Star Trek as the premier science fiction movie of 2009.

One of the strengths of the film is the way in which it immediately engages the watcher. Like other recent films, the use of hand-held cameras and footage apparently CCTV cameras breathlessly grabs the audience's attention. About 30 minutes into the film I found myself surprised at the way in which I was so bothered about the welfare of a group of prawn-shaped aliens!

I had a love-hate relationship with the technical sides of the film. Sharlto Copley, in what I believe is his first, role as Wikus van de Merwe (an official charged with overseeing the forced evacuation from District 9 to the purpose-made District 10) is excellent. The scenes amongst the slums of District 9 have been excellently shot, and the special effects and costumes meant that I sometimes had to remind myself I was watching a science-fiction film. On the downside, the swearing in the film felt gratuitous (adding nothing to either plot or characterisation), Wikus' relationship with his wife wasn't developed enough and there was more gore than was probably necessary. Of the group that I saw the film with, some liked it, others didn't.

I once heard one of my heroes, the film critic Mark Kermode, saying that the best science fiction points beyond itself, where aliens are allegories or metaphors of people. And that's clearly in the mind of the film and script writers. The questions that the film poses are obvious: To whom should 'human rights' apply? Is it ever right to ignore a person's human rights? And what are the dangers when a population are treated as second-class citizens? There are also questions posed regarding the philanthropic intentions of multinational companies.

Above all, the fact that District 9 is set in Johannesburg and that it opens with the re-location of aliens from one township to another means that the movie watcher cannot help but associate the aliens with the black population of South Africa under apartheid. (Interestingly, the film opens in the early 1980s, when the aliens arrive over South Africa when, of course, apartheid was still in full force). Yet the politics of the film is far from a direct allegory of apartheid: there are other scenes that seem to echo the Nazi experiments on Jews during the Second World War, as well as the treatment of African-American slaves whilst away from home.

District 9 is an interesting piece. I, for one, hope that a sequel isn't made. An interesting discussion point with friends might be how they would imagine the loose ends of the film might be tied up, and to then discuss what is said about human nature.

Robbie Williams: Bodies

Robbie Williams makes his long-awaited comeback later this year with an album released in November and his latest song, Bodies, regularly on the radio.

I'm not a massive fan of Robbie's music but there's no doubting that he's something of a cultural icon. His forthcoming album Reality Killed the Video Star is dominating the charts on future release charts. And to his credit, Bodies, his comeback single isn't safe: not a ballad, but a sound that will appeal to a slightly more adult audience.

There's no doubt that spirituality plays an important part in the track. It opens with Gregorian chant and ends with a gospel choir. And whilst the lyrics sometimes feel somewhat forced, there's some interesting mileage in considering their message.

One of the lyrics at the end of the track is 'Jesus didn't die for you / What do you want?' I happened to hear an interview with Robbie on the radio over the weekend and there's no doubt that in part this is an effort to attract headlines through shock. But I wonder if there's more going on in the song.

There are masses of spiritual references: not only to Jesus, but also to the Bodhi tree (where the Buddha apparently received his revelations). In the interview I heard, Robbie confessed that although he'd been raised a Roman Catholic, he no longer knew who to pray to. He joked that the previous night he'd prayed to the Archangel Michael because he liked the look of his muscles, and also intimated that he enjoyed reading atheist writings by Richard Dawkins.

And I wonder if that brings the hearer to the crux of the song. Robbie sings about 'bodies' ('Bodies in the Bodhi tree / bodies making chemistry / bodies on my family...). Yet the song seems to point to a conviction that humans are more than just bodies finding themselves in space and time at a particular point ('Praying for the rapture / Cause it's strange, getting stranger'). Perhaps above all, though, the song represents a fear that the need for Jesus is merely a psychological need that we all have: possibly the need to be accepted as we are ('All we've ever wanted is to look good naked / That someone can take it / God save me rejection from my rejection / I want perfection').

And so the song closes, with Robbie singing that 'Jesus didn't really die for you', whilst a gospel choir sings 'Jesus really died for you'. I wonder: is this an argument that is going on in Robbie's head? Is Jesus merely a projection of our needs?

For more on Jesus being a psychological crutch or wish-fulfilment, click here, or see my post Is God merely a psychological crutch for the weak?

Inside Out: Forum film discussion

I'm hosting a short film discussion at UCCF's Forum conference in September on the track designed to showcase to students how they can use the arts in CU events.

The film I've chosen to show is Inside Out, directed by Tom and Charles Guard.



Here are a first draft of some questions I've come up with for the discussion afterwards. They've been written so that they can be fairly easily transferred to a discussion after pretty much any film:

1. What was your initial reaction to the film? What was it that prompted this reaction?
2. What impressed you most about the film? (e.g. plot, script or screenplay, an acting performance, film making technique, cinematography, soundtrack etc.)
3. Did any part of the film stand out to you as particularly meaningful or powerful in any way? Why?
4. What is the message of the film, or view of life and the world that is presented in the story as it unfolds? (Try to state this in a sentence). How did the film-maker’s technique seek to make this message plausible or compelling?
5. To what extent do you agree with the message of the film?

I'd love to hear anyone's thoughts on my questions... or on the film for that matter!

Inside Out is availableto buy on the excellent Cinema16 collection of short British films.

Star Trek 2009

Linda and I went to watch Star Trek tonight. I hope at some point in the next couple of days to scribble some thoughts I had.

For the time being, here's my brother's review of the film.

The Damned United: the idolatry of ambition

The Damned United concerns Brian Clough's ill-fated 44 day stint as manager of Leeds United. Based on fact but no doubt embellished, the film places the seven weeks Clough spent there as manager in the context of his long-running rivalry with Don Revie.

Michael Sheen is, again, brilliant and Timothy Spall provides excellent support as Clough's number 2, Peter Taylor. There's a good script which highlights Clough's arrogance, wit and pomp. The film is quick moving and held the attention even of my football-tolerating-at-best mother. There's also some beautiful photography work (my favourite scenes were those set in Brighton) which captures what I imagine the spirit of the 1970s to be perfectly.

Clough is portrayed as a flawed genius - to those of us know who anything about the man, no surprise there. His genius and his flaw root from the same place: Clough's great ambition and associated arrogance. Positively, these drive Clough to excellence and brings great hights. Negatively, they are pictured as destroying relationships with friends, family, rivals and colleagues - and lead Clough himself into misery and bitterness. (This is particularly shown in the rollercoaster-type relationship Clough has with Peter Taylor; particularly tragic to those who know how this relationship finished in real life). In short, success becomes Clough's god. He is pictured as willing to do anything in order to achieve it - and cannot live without it.

Success is something which is not wrong to pursue, nor is achievement. But The Damned United reminds the viewer that when these become ultimate, hurt of oneself and others (and regret) are bound to follow.

A tool to help engage with philosophy and pop culture

I've recently come across a series of very useful books for those of us involved in cultural engagement, apologetics and evangelism.

Published by Wiley-Blackwell, the Philosophy and Pop Culture series helps the reader to get their heads around the various philosophies that popular films and television programmes both espouse and reflect. Why is it that we find David Brent so ridiculous? What is the form of philosophy that drives Jack Bauer? These are amongst the questions that the books investigate. As well as 24 and The Office, there are also guides on other series including Battlestar Galatica, Family Guy, Lost, South Park and the Batman films, amongst others. You can view the full list of titles here.

The books aren't easy reads (especially the one I read on 24). It's academic philosophers that have written the chapters. But I found the guides both helpful in illustrating quite abstract philosophical ideas, and in helping me to engage with the ideas these shows present and play around with. I'm hoping that as well as deepening my appreciation of these programmes, the books have armed me with new material for sermons and lunchbars.

Benjamin Button? I'd rather have 2 Corinthians 5

Already nominated for major awards and an Oscar favourite, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is a film that has been pulling in the viewers. And it's no surprise. There's an all-star cast, a great idea, a heart-breaking love story and incredible special effects. It's message is engaging but - as I've hinted in the title to this post - one I have found increasingly unsatisfactory as I've thought more about this film since I saw it.

Benjamin Button is about a man who is born in his eighties and who, over time, grows younger. It is based on the short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald. The story begins in New Orleans at the end of World War I in 1918 and ends in the 21st century. Benjamin's life is characterised in the movie by the people he meets, the places he discovers, the loves he experiences, the many joys of life he knows, and the sadness of losing people he loved.

Cinema-goers have been somewhat polarised by the film. For some, the film is magical and wonderful. For others, it is dull and dreary. For my wife, Linda, it was the latter. Certainly, the film dragged in places and the action took a while to develop. And whilst the special effects and the make-up are brilliant - it's so strange seeing Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett as pensioners - this didn't really capture my attention for the nearly three hour duration of the film.

The most interesting aspect of the film was it's lament - death is lamented, broken relationships are lamented, happy times that have to finish are lamented and bodies that break and become diseased are lamented. Benjamin's increasingly younger body simply reminds Daisy of her increasingly ageing body, heading as it is toward death. And so the movie is characterised from start to finish by recognising the sheer fragility of human life. Indeed, a collection of quotes from the film can be found here, which reflects this point.

Life is presented as 'a series of intersecting lives and incidents, out of anyone's control'. A fate greater than ourselves seems to decide whether we live or die (as shown comedically by the Mr Daws, who's apparently been struck by lightning seven times - who survived, but who has to live with bodily effects of what happened), making life a person's greatest gift. Wallowing in resentment for what has ceased or gone wrong is, according to the film, a waste of time. And so the heroic characters in the film are those who make the best of their lives and experience what they can, despite the unfortunate circumstances that they might have faced - whether that's swimming the English Channel later in life, or dancing. As Benjamin puts it,

'For what it's worth: it's never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you're proud of. If you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.'

And so the film causes the viewer to ask questions in the light of these sad truths: Am I using my time wisely? Are I letting life happen to me, or am I happening to life?

As a Christian, I found a film about what it's like to be continually surrounded by the reality of death both engaging and sad. Engaging, because Hollywood rarely takes on such a subject in a subtle and real way. But I also found it sad - because of the lack of hope that was portrayed. As grateful as the central characters appear for the gift of life they have received, the reality of death punctures it continually. And at most, an elderly Daisy mentions being curious about what happens 'next' after her final breath. This apparent lack of belief in a personal God - or a meaningful afterlife - inevitably leads to sadness. Benjamin and Daisy live to fully experience their lives, but it's as if they are always watching the clock, always aware that 'nothing ever lasts'. I found myself leaving the cinema very grateful for the hope that 2 Corinthians 5 offers me through Christ - a hope of a new body and a life beyond death in the renewed creation: a life of solid joys and lasting pleasures. I can't help but think that this is what the film's writers crave.

Ultimately, I found Benjamin Button's message frustrating. Frustrating because it's sometimes not enough to be told to just be grateful for life and to experience it as best we can. The film hits the nail on the head as it pictures the tyranny of time, a life inevitably heading toward death and the destruction and hardship of a broken world and broken bodies. But we long for more than this - deep down we know that God has set eternity in our hearts and we long for more.

Five questions for Christians to engage with popular music

Pop music - like any other form of art - is made of what Francis Schaeffer called 'glorious ruins', made by people made in the image of God, yet ruined and sinful. How as Christians can we discern what is good in pop music without endorsing what is wrong and sinful?

Here are five questions that you can use to begin to consider these questions:

1. What's sort of response do the song writer and musician want the hearer to make? How successfully is this intention achieved?
2. How technically excellent is this piece of music? (this considers the skill of the composers, musicians and producers)
3. Is the musician being true to their talent and worldview - or are they making their music primarly for fame or for money?
4. What's the content and message of the song? What can we agree with? What do we disagree with?
5. To what extent is the agreement between what's being communicated and how it's being communicated? (Jerry Solomon: ‘The ideal situation occurs when both the medium and the message agree.’).

These questions show that it is entirely possible for a musician to create a song that is creative and technically excellent while its theme is something we can’t agree with (or vice versa). Much of the music we encounter will contain both things we agree with and things we disagree with and it is dishonest to deny the reality of either. When we write off a song or musician because of their lyrics or performance, we deny the God-given talents that they inevitably have. In so doing, we miss much of the way in which God has blessed the people he made with common grace.

Additionally, if we evaluate music based on our personal preferences, we exalt our preference to place of ultimate authority. As Christians we recognize Scripture as the ultimate authority for our belief and practice and we should also root our assessment of an individual piece of art work in the same place.

'Revolutionary Road' and the critique of existentialism

Revolutionary Road is the latest Sam Mendes offering set in suburban America. This time, he tackles the issues of happiness, freedom and their source, tracking the fortunes of married couple Frank and April Wheeler.

Frank and April are a young couple living in a model suburb (spot the similarities with American Beauty). April, played by Kate Winslet, is a failed actress and stay-at-home mother, whilst Frank, played by Leonardo DiCaprio, commutes daily to an office job in New York City.

The film picks Frank and April up as they have stalled into a rut of mundane life. Both characters feel as though they are just 'surviving': Frank in a job that he hates, April in a life she'd had never chosen minding her children. Suddenly, April gets the idea that their lives (and their marriage) can be reinvigorated if they move away from the 'comfort' of their home in Revolutionary Road and move to Paris. There she can work, whilst he works out what his vocation is. Frank eventually agrees to April's plan (he says that he, too, craves 'feeling, really feeling'), much to the consternation of their suburban friends.

Everything changes, though, when April becomes pregant, and a joke at work ends up giving Frank a chance at becoming a corporate hot-shot. With these changes, how will the Wheelers cope? April is driven by the prospects of freedom and true life - she's willing to abort and to carry on with the proposed emigration; Frank, meanwhile, prefers to numb the pain of his unfulfilment through staying busy, through material gain and through cigarettes and booze. The film essentially plays out this clash of worldviews and particularly critiques April's driven existentialism and demand for experiential fulfilment.

What's celebrated is April's zest for life: she longs for truth and a felt reality. She's willing to face up to the facts of her existence. She hates the emptiness and hopelessness of suburban life. She longs to make her life count and craves purpose, something endorsed by the fascinating character John, who has a psychiatric illness and speaks blunt truth. However, April's experience-driven choices are not shown in a completely positive light: she hurts many of those who are closest to her and treats them as objects for her gratification, she ignores her children and she makes some very dubious moral choices. In the end, the viewer can't help wondering whether her driven existentialism is irresponsible, selfish and ultimately unrealistic escapist (sentiments I've shared about existentialism before). But the only alternative given in the film is to ignore the voices that tell us that our lives don't count and numb the pain.

As a Christian, what is very obvious to me is that God is missing from the lives of the characters Revolutionary Road. The Bible speaks of a God who created humans in relationship with him and each other, of a God that judges - showing that lives matter, and a God who gives a purpose to his people. The Christian good news speaks to people like April who long authenticity, freedom and reality. It also speaks to people like Frank, encouraging them to face up to life as it really is, with all its hopelessness and emptiness. True freedom is found in offering all of one's life in joyful submission to Jesus, living life as it was created to be lived.

Frost/Nixon and the search for truth

A film about the making of a TV interview in the 1970s might not immediately seem like a great evening out. There's already some spice added when the interview is the famous meeting of David Frost and Richard Nixon. Add a great screenplay, some brilliant individual performances and it leads to a fascinating piece.

Ron Howard's film has been very well shot. Apparently, the movie is an adaptation of a stage play; however, this isn't obvious. In fact, the strong point of the movie is the detail that comes from close up shots of the two main protagonists' faces. The scene of the final day's filming of the Nixon interview is particularly well shot, using shots of Nixon and Frost's face on the monitor nearby capturing incredibly emotional intensity. The film tracks the emotions and passions of the two men over the period of the interviews, and uses these to tell its story. The acting is superb, and Frank Langhella deserves his Oscar nomination.

Truth is the driving nature of the movie. It is presented as having a redemptive element. Indeed, Frost's crusade to force Nixon to confess his Watergate-related misdemeanors is because it is considered that Nixon never received the justice that he should have rightfully faced. It's a champagne moment when Nixon finally confesses, and has (along with his family and friends) to publicly live with the consequences of his actions. The truth shows Nixon as he really is: neurotic, insecure, arrogant and paranoid.

However, the movie also blurs issues of truth. Firstly, there's a blurring between conventional movie and documentary, which means that in the film itself its difficult to separate truth and creative license. The content of the movie also blurs simple understandings of truth. Cultural theorist Marshall McLuhan wrote in the mid 1960s that 'the medium is the message'; that is, that the type of medium that is used to communicate something affects what is communicated. 'Truth' is 'conditioned' by the medium through which it is communicated. This is a theme that comes through clearly in Frost/Nixon: for instance, there's comment on the famous Nixon-Kennedy debate: while radio audiences thought Nixon won it by a landslide, on television Nixon appeared emaciated, unhealthy, and awkward, while Kennedy appeared handsome, tanned and confident. Meanwhile, throughout the movie, the viewer is shown glimpses of how both Frost and Nixon camps seek to manipulate circumstances in order to produce the 'truth' they crave. This all contributes to what postmodern scholars call 'the hermeneutic of suspicion': the position of scepticism that assumes that one is rarely (or never) being shown the whole truth; but rather a message that is mediated and influenced by power games. Even in the final scene the whole truth is hidden as a 'white lie' is considered kinder and more beneficial.

Perhaps the contemporary popularity on Frost/Nixon is because the movie concerns a politician who has made mistakes: Will he come clean, tell the truth and admit that he made mistakes and acted wrongly? And how might remorse for these actions show itself? In a world that is now moving on from Blair and Bush, these are questions that still echo loudly.

Slumdog Millionaire

After a series of films out over Christmas that I've not exactly been that bothered about seeing, a whole batch of movies are currently out that seem to be worth viewing. Yesterday, I got around to watching the much-hyped Danny Boyle offering Slumdog Millionaire.

I'm always slightly cautious when a film is massively hyped, but Slumdog lived up to its popular billing. The acting is brilliant and the whole movie has a lovely tempo to it. Perhaps the highlight of the film is the cinematography: there are some shots which have been impeccably made, and there are several sequences where the medium of cinema is used to its very best. The chase sequences through the slums and the scenes set at the train station come to mind. Combined with skilful flashback scenes and powerful characterisation, Slumdog Millionaire draws upon all of the senses.

There are a few themes that run through the film (including love, justice and an interesting motif of destiny and/or the sovereignty and providence of God), but its major theme is India itself, in which the film is set. India not only provides the backdrop to the movie but, in many ways, is its prominent topic too. Aspects of Indian life and culture are celebrated, but it's partnered with a kind of lament (which mourns religious tension and extremism, the abuse of the most vulnerable in society and the pressures of poverty, amongst other things). It's interesting that Indian community itself has been quite divided in its reception to Slumdog. Knowing this before viewing the film made me wonder at several points whether certain aspects of Indian culture and life are really shown in a very honest light, or whether they have been exaggerated for a primarily Western audience. You'd have to wonder how the film might have been shot by an Indian director.

Still, at this very early stage of the year, Slumdog Millionaire will surely feature as one of the best. (And excitingly, one of the ones I missed from last year - Waltz with Bashir - is being shown at the independent cinema in Lancaster next week!).

Doctor Who, feminism and Jesus

After the awful Doctor Who Christmas special last year, we were relieved at my in-laws' house that this year's episode was significantly better. The plot was fun, there was plenty of snow and you got the sense that Doctor Who is perhaps the 21st Century equivalent of the pantomime.

I couldn't help noticing, though, that there was more of a politics to the episode than some. The combination of it being Christmastime and these politics had interesting things to say about Christianity, Jesus and feminism.

There were several mentions of and allusions to Jesus throughout the episode. At the grave side of one of the workhouse owner, a vicar rehearsed burial liturgy, surrounded by a group of men. There was a strong link of Jesus (and Christianity) with patriarchy. The villainess, Miss Hartigan, who had worked in one of the workhouses for many years, ended up in partnership with the Cybermen in reaction to the evils that she witnessed as a result of such patriarchy (indeed, this was portrayed as her only escape!). She represented herself as a new suffragette-style hero(ine) that came into the world at Christmas - only now not one that would oppress women. She even used the words, 'Behold, I have risen'. Miss Hartigan was set up as a kind of Christ figure; the implication throughout being that Christianity (even Jesus?) is misogynistic and oppressive.

In the end, however, the Doctor seemed to identify the problem with Miss Hartigan's plans: her ideals, too, were shown to be oppressive. In compassion, the Doctor offered to send Miss Hartigan and her Cybermen to another planet, where they wouldn't need to 'convert' anyone (another backward slap at Christianity?). However, once Miss Hartigan's eyes were 'opened', the horror of her evil meta-narrative convicted her and she imploded.

In the end, perhaps the episode was a critique of patriarchy and feminism. Feminism that become an inflexible meta-narrative is to be rejected as it threatens to become an evil ,oppressive (and Christianity-like) system; yet the tragedy portrayed by the episode is that a real heroine (a character called Rosita, who helps many children to be saved) ends the epsiode merely as a nanny. We're forced to ask... is this right? Is it right that a heroic, bright woman can rise only to this position in a Christianity-influenced (Victorian) patriarchy?

An interesting theme. I wonder what the writers would make of Jesus' encounters with women in the Gospels?

Changeling: Foucault's 'Discipline and Punish' redux

Tonight Linda and I went to see Clint Eastwood's latest film, Changeling. We had both been really moved by Million Dollar Baby and so looked forward to viewing it with anticipation.

Let's make one thing clear: it isn't pretty viewing. The film opens reminding the viewer that it is based on true life, and this is what makes the movie powerfully arresting. In fact, the auditorium was quieter at the end of the film than any other I'd been to since The Passion of the Christ. Whilst there wasn't much gore, the subject matter was such that it leaves you squeaming at many points.

The trailer for Changeling only gave the bare bones of the plot: a boy is abducted, a police search ensues, a boy is found, but the boy's mother Christine Collins (played by the very good Angelina Jolie) insists that the boy returned to her is not her son.

However, perhaps the main issue that the film raises is the matter of madness. After confronting the city authorities, Mrs Collins is branded an unfit mother, branded delusional and sent to a secure psychiatric hospital. Later in the film, another view of madness is presented in one of the other major characters. The movie considers what 'madness' is, who has the right to call someone else 'mad' or delusional, and whether 'madness' ever mitigates one's societal responsibility. And so whilst there are other strong themes (human evil, death, the family, justice and women's rights), it's issues of 'madness' and the role of the institution that is explored most deeply. In this respect, it is very similar to the 'archaeology of knowledge' of the penal system and the hospital presented by the French postmodernist Michel Foucault in his book Discipline and Punish. The movie questions whether two key figures - Mrs Collins and Northcott - might be treated in the same way today (and if not, why not?).

It's true that societal factors are highly influential in governing behaviour. I believe that evangelical Christians (like me) have traditionally underplayed these societal forces. However, part of what Foucualt's philosophy has done has placed us in a society where nobody is ever 'guilty'. We can always blame our mental health, our disposition, our upbringing or our parents. At the end of Changeling, it's worth considering this question: despite all of the guilt and the violence, who is guilty? (The answer might surprise you).

For a second opinion, here's what Nick Pollard of the excellent Damaris organisation made of it:

Top films of 2008

Dave K recently posted his top films of 2008. I don't think there were loads of classics (although we didn't make No Country for Old Men or There Will Be Blood, and I'm still hoping we'll catch Waltz with Bashir), but here's my top 5 so far. I've linked to films I reviewed.

1. The Dark Knight
2. Changeling
3. Wall-E
4. Juno
5. Quantum of Solace

I quite enjoyed bits of Iron Man, Charlie Wilson's War, City of Ember, Burn After Reading and Jumper. Lowest marks of the year would include films like 21, The Duchess and Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull).

Questions to help read and respond a film from a Christian perspective

Today the Relays and I went to watch City of Ember as part of their ongoing discipleship programme (we have a 'culture day' once a term in Relay supervision time). It was the first time that any of them had been encouraged to 'think Christianly' about a film.

We based our discussion afterwards on some of Ted Turnau's suggested questions. I think they're really useful:

1. What was your immediate reaction to the film at its close?
2. What's the story?
3. What sort of 'world' has the film-maker asked me to enter?

(a) What counts as good or bad or beautiful or evil or unacceptable in this world? What makes relationships in this world work or fail?
(b) How has the film-maker built up this world?

• How does the movie's first shot introduce the world? How does the last shot leave us with a lasting impression?
• What were the recurring images or visual motifs?
• What patterns were there in the dialogue? How did characters interact? Were there words or phrases that were repeated?
• How does the film use music to guide you to know how to respond?
• How do characters grow and learn and change? (this is known as a 'character arc' and is a good pointer towards the message that the film maker is seeking to make)

4. What’s true, good and beautiful in this film? Because the film is made by people in God’s image, there will be moments when the truth shines, where beauty is unveiled (what Turnau calls ‘the footprints of God’). What elements of God’s grace do we see?
5. What’s false, ugly and perverse? Where does the movie lie? Film worlds are a mixture of grace and manipulation, truth and lies. A film's lies will betray where its root idolatry is. (Often there is a direct relationship between where common grace is strongest and idolatry e.g. a chick flick celebrates romance, but often presents it as the one thing to live for).
6. How does the gospel apply (or give an answer)? (the gospel provides real answers to desires).

As it goes, we had a great discussion about City of Ember. It's an enjoyable film that has much truth in it: it speaks of how political power can corrupt, and of how religion, banality and busyness can often prevent communities from tackling their problems. Free thinking away from the control of governmental institutions is commended, and there is a real desire for humans to truly engage with the problems around them.

However, we found the solution that City of Ember commends somewhat shortcoming. Essentially human achievement is elevated, and the film implies that youthful people untainted by indoctrination would succeed in building a perfect community, if it were possible to start again on the earth. (Interestingly, the film ends in a kind of 'new creation', with the sun rising and a chance to start from scratch).

Jesus was much more radical in his diagnosis of the human condition. He knew that even if children were placed in a perfect new world, that without being born again, it would be soon ruined. The root problem - the problem of our hearts - needs to be dealt with. That is the promise of the Christian gospel: not that we refuse to engage with the problems around us (like the quasi-religious characters in the film), but that we turn to Jesus as the only one who can give us new hearts. We long for a new creation and a fresh start - but one where 'the former things have passed away'.

Burn after reading: a story of idiocy and incompetence

The Coen Brothers' new film Burn After Reading is now on general release. It's a black comedy that captures how, despite more technological development than ever, human stupidity can throw a spanner into the works of even the best-oiled machine.

A cast full of Hollywood's best known names portrays an unlikely story, where the loss of a CD of a former CIA worker's memoirs has a disastrous domino effect. Whilst many have inevitably compared the film to No Country For Old Men (and many have found this latest offering to fall somewhat short), I thought that the main roles were played well and intelligently, and the film was beautifully shot.

In that respect, it's a wry critique of 21st Century industrialised countries. Contrary to TV programmes like 24 that want to portray US government agencies as smooth-operating automatons, Burn After Reading seeks to be more realistic. Technology isn't always as helpful as we'd like to think, and an accurate view of human nature should make us cautious: human idiocy and eccentricity can destroy even the best made plans. Perhaps this should make us think twice when institutions make big claims for themselves?

Film Review: The Duchess - "compromised freedom"

The Duchess is Keira Knightley's latest offering, telling the story based on truth of an 18th Century woman trapped in a loveless marriage to a Duke only bothered about fathering a male heir.

To be honest, it wasn't a great film - a tired script accompanied by very slow moving action didn't make it a great evening's entertainment!

There are a few thinking points:

- patriarchal societies are viewed very negatively - and whilst women have more rights today, the implication is that experience felt by the lead character is still felt by women today in a man's world;
- there are clear links between the Duchess of Devonshire and her descendant Princess Diana (the more links you look out for, the more you will see);
- the places where freedom is most fully experienced is away from the marital home, Devonshire House.

Rather naively, towards the beginning of the film, the Duchess speaks to a politician about how she cannot envisage partial or compromised freedom. The message of the film is that, although we all long for freedom, everyone (apart from maybe children) experiences compromised freedom (a predicament faced par excellence in the case of Diana). Freedom can be sucked away by social responsibilities, expectations of one in your status or position, marriage, moral demands and family commitments. According to the film, then, true freedom in adult like is found in the odd moments when one can escape these commitments.

All in all a sad film - longing for freedom, looking in the wrong places ... and never finding it.

Wall-E: "I want to stop surviving and start living"

We went tonight to see Wall-E, a film about an inquisitive robot that teaches humans of the future what it means to truly live and to be truly human. (In fact, Wall-E is perhaps the most 'human' of all the characters in the film).

It was an excellent film: beautifully put together and actually very funny in places. Who would have thought a love story about two robots (even two robots that can't really communicate in human language) could be so touching?

There's some excellent reviews already out there by Dave Kirkman and Mark Meynell that I can't really beat. They capture something of the main meaning of the film and think about its pointers to the gospel. (I'd perhaps add that the film gives a brilliant picture of what it means to be alive but simultaneously 'dead' in the most important ways). But before reading their reviews make sure you go and see the film yourself - I don't think you'll regret it.

Film Review: The Dark Knight

Yesterday, I finally got around to watching the latest Batman offering, The Dark Knight, with Linda and my siblings. It's a fantastic film - and this post will probably be full of spoilers, so if you've not yet seen the film, do yourself a favour and see the film before reading this post!

Superhero films tend to struggle to know how to present the cities in which they are set. Should such a setting be realistic or based more in fantasy? Gotham City is presented as being very much in the real world - it's a New York or a Chicago, but sleek and dark, clean and with lots of straight lines. Gotham is a cross between grit and beauty, providing an incredible backdrop for the action within.

The film appears well cast. Christian Bale (who went to my school in Bournemouth!) does well in his role; by day as cocky and suave businessman Bruce Wayne, and by night as the angst-gripped and often guilt-ridden Batman. Heath Ledger is fantastic as the Joker, living up to all of the hype. He owns the screen of the scenes he is in. The Joker is quite terrifying, mixing comedic nihilism with sheer brutality to great effect.

The backdrop and the casting provides the springboard to the big questions that the film poses.

Gotham is presented as a very needy city, where peace is fragile and difficult to maintain. Although in parts the film seems to present goodness as part of human nature (in particular in a scene with two ferries), the overwhelming tide of the film presents human nature and deeply flawed and even evil. The film examines the question of whether we're able to keep to our own moral frameworks, particularly when placed under intense pressure (a tactic that the Joker uses on several occasions). Pressure shows everyone's uncomfortable shortcomings. This reminded me of something that CS Lewis wrote on this theme in Mere Christianity. He wrote that, often, when we let ourselves down somehow, we blame the pressure we found ourselves under. In his own words,

'The excuse that immediately springs to my mind is that the provocation was so sudden and unexpected; I was caught off my guard, I had not time to collect myself. Now that may be an extenuating circumstance as regards those particular acts: they would obviously be worse if they had been deliberate and premeditated. On the other hand, surely what a man does when he is taken off his guard is the best evidence for what sort of a man he is? Surely what pops out before the man has time to put on a disguise is the truth? If there are rats in a cellar you are most likely to see them if you go in very suddenly. But the suddenness does not create the rats: it only prevents them from hiding. In the same way the suddenness of the provocation does not make me an ill-tempered man; it only shows me what an ill-tempered man I am. The rats are always there in the cellar, but if you go in shouting and noisily they will have taken cover before you switch on the light.'

In the film, as the Joker applies the pressure and makes people make snap decisions very different to those they might have made in the cold light of day, we see a different side to various characters. Perhaps we see them as they really are. Perhaps we see darkness in the hearts of each person.

Another theme is the morality of the operation of vigilante characters like Batman who operate outside of the law. As the film opens, Batman is receiving a bad press: although Batman has Gotham's law-breakers on the run, many are saying that Batman should hang up his costume and leave crime fighting to the police authorities. That seems all the more possible when a new District Attorney, Harvey Dent, is appointed. At last it seems that Gotham will be rid of crime through legal means.

Through the introduction of the Joker and his psychotic genius, Batman is drawn out of 'retirement' and back into crime fighting. Yet this is only with a lot of angst on Batman's part: in common with many 'post-modern' superhroes, Batman appears frightened of who he may be, who he may become and personal sacrifices he will have to make. The clues of the film also suggest that Batman fears that his vigilante crime-fighting may have even encouraged criminals to further their games to new levels of danger and risk.

At times, Batman also seems to over-step the line of what is 'acceptable', even as a vigilante crime fighter. In one part of the film, particularly, he seems to infringe the human rights of others in order to be able to perform his role. Yes, this is always with a view to eventually restoring order to the state and its authorities (as it seems that Batman realises that the long-term health of Gotham depends on a fair and judicial legal system), but Batman considers operating outside of their restrictions regrettably necessary in certain situations. On another occasion, Batman considers it necessary to lie to the general public in order to re-establish law and order under the authorities. All of these actions are presented by the film in a sympathetic light. Batman is, after all, and even with all his flaws, the hero. This has led some commentators to wonder whether director Christopher Nolan is offering a sympathetic critique of the real-life 'vigilantes' that are operating as part of the global 'war on terror'.

A sympathetic critique, perhaps, but the film seems to realise that even Batman can't ultimately win in his role as a one-man fighting force in the war on terror in Gotham City. The depressing truth is that no matter how many criminals Batman puts away, we all know that this isn't the end of the story. The corrupt system will either release them, or even more unsavory criminals will replace them. There's a limit to the effectiveness of Batman's violence, whether that is violence employed in conjunction with the government and authorities or outside of it.

Christians believe that there really is only one man to whom we can look in our despair. He was anything but a rule-bending law enforcer, but dealt with violence and crime at its root cause.

My friend Chris Oldfield has written another review of The Dark Knight, which is far more eloquent and thought-provoking! You can read it here.