Violence vs. War
Battle for the Better Meaning

So I'm getting into my regular movie groove now and watched both A History of Violence and Lord of War this weekend. They were both two very well made films, each with very distinct stories and unique styles of direction. Despite these differences, there are many comparisons that can be made, ultimately being the final message left with the audience after each film.

A History of Violence
David Cronenberg's A History of Violence tells the story of Tom Stall (Viggo Mortensen) who saves the day in a small town after brutally killing two criminals who threatened the lives of innocents. With such heroics, naturally he becomes a local hero but also gains the attention of mobsters from the east coast; mobsters who claim to know Tom as a cold-blooded killer; mobsters who forcefully bring back Tom's true history of violence. With their arrival, Tom's seamlessly happy life is threatened as his alternate identity of Joey Cusack comes roaring back to life, releasing a primal anger on those he loves. While it sounds like it could be a typical PG-13 flick, A History of Violence is in no way typical and is in no way PG-13.

Cronenberg kept the film moving at a very steady pace that wasn't afraid of picking up instantly when moments of unexpected climax struck. With these quick spikes in pacing, one could never be sure of where the film would go or what it would, keeping a tight suspense in the theatre. Through this suspense, the film never left you in a comfort zone, especially with its provocative content. The action sequences were some of the goriest scenes I've ever witnessed in a film and even the love scenes were rather long and explicit. This film shows everything and leaves nothing to be imagined or questioned afterwards... except the ending; an ending of emotion, power, and originality that is hard to find these days in Hollywood.

Lord of War
Speaking of rarities in Hollywood, Andrew Niccol's Lord of War is one of the few movies to tell a meaningful story with style, as well as the budget to back it. The film tells the story of a poor man, Yuri Olov (Nicolas Cage) who gains an interest in selling guns and throughout the next twenty years of his life, he goes from a criminal to one of the biggest names in the world of arms dealing. Becoming a sort of used car salesman of weapons, Yuri slowly loses his moral standings in replace of business smarts. In an endless cycle, he becomes so good at what he does that he keeps doing it because he is so good, losing any perspective on how his products are used to end countless lives. He gains everything he ever wanted in the world only to lose it all for his arms business.

Yuri narrates his life's story and the pacing of the film is very quick as it covers a vast amount of time. Different from A History of Violence, Lord of War has a much sleeker and more expensive style to it, which is perfectly appropriate when considering the variety of high scale settings used, as well as Yuri's own life of luxury. Although the film has the classic dry charm and humor of Cage, this light-hearted tone is never afraid to indulge into the dramatics of certain tragic or unpleasant situations and transform this big-budget blockbuster into a vehicle for thought.

Comparing Two
These films could easily be described as character driven stories depicting the protagonists and their influence and reactions to violence. Both Mortensen and Cage were wonderful in playing multi-sided characters with a deep internal conflict tormenting their decisions. With the classic formula for tragedy, an internal conflict was also created in each viewer, as you hope for a happy and clean ending for these characters, while simultaneously wishing they will be caught and punished. The films feature this threatening and inevitable force of universal balance through a cat-and-mouse element, as each character was tracked and chased by an antagonist. These roles were played extremely well by Ed Harris (in AHOV) and Ethan Hawke (in LOW). Although their parts were minor, they utlimately enforced the ideal that no one can commit such acts and get away with it.

This brings us to the most important similarity between the two films: their final message of violence. Both market their films giving the expectation of action, yet neither portray such sequences glamorously. Cronenberg and Niccol cleverly trick you into viewing their films and being forced to absorb these profound messages. But each film obviously sends the message very differently. In brief, A History of Violence graphically shows the acts of violence, while Lord of War depicts the change in morality and lifestyle when ignoring the consequences of violence. So which is more effective?

Off Topic
This last week, the campus seemed to be flooded by diehard proponents of certain religious groups and conservative ideals. While they are of course entitled to advertise any idea they wish, their methods can have negative effects when harshly forced upon their audience. On Friday, a group advertised their stand on abortion by handing out brochures entitled "The Great American Holocaust," which featured horribly disturbing images of unborn babies after removal from the womb.* In fact, if you thought you could avoid the brochures, they had a large truck driving throughout the university's streets with these images greatly enlarged, complete with one of the fetus' graphic faces on the back of the truck displaying the message: "This is the Face of Pro-Choice America."

Back On Topic
Clearly their campaign aims for the "shock" or "gross-out" value to persuade viewers to their side. Yet, while discussed in sociology class, many moderates on the topic admitted to being swayed the other way on the issue of abortion; the campaign ended up being counterproductive! Their over-the-top slap-in-the-face method sacrificed their credibility and respectability, turning off many "potential" supporters.

Despite the artistic elements of the film, incredible cast, and brilliant ending, I felt A History of Violence suffered from its use of the same "gross-out" tactics to overwhelm the audience with the horrors of violence. Somewhere in between the stepping on necks, repeated break-ins of noses, bashing of faces, bloody bloody limbs, and blowing out of skulls and chests it... uhh... I don't even know what I was getting at. Oh right, losing your thoughts when viewing such graphic scenes of violence-- Taste was truly sacrificed to take the brutal way of pounding a message into your head and in the end, confusion, disgust, and maybe even outrage are all to be found for viewing such scenes; the type of outrage that doesn't rally you to their cause.

So in the end, which film was more effective in communicating its message? Of course any concrete guess is impossible to estimate. Yet, I can guarantee more viewers left the showing of A History of Violence than Lord of War before the film was over. Much more.

Of course you may disagree. I'll admit I come from the Hitchcock school of thought, where the most powerful way of communicating to the audience is by tapping into their imagination. But I encourage you to judge for yourself. I send you my highest thumbs up for the very interesting and entertaining Lord of War, as well as my salutes for A History of Violence, yet only for those with a strong focus and stomach.

JL- 10/02/2005

*The fetuses used in the anti-abortion campaign featured the pictures of unborn babies developed well into their third-trimester. Such abortions are extremely rare but let's not get me started on that rant...

Trapped in Society
A Serious Rant

The James Madison life has been very good to me when constantly providing activities that are interesting, entertaining and, dare I say, informative around campus. With the conclusion of the university's international week, I have been the most engaged and inspired by the discussions led by filmmaker Sharon Sopher and cameraman Trust Mashoro.

Sharon Sopher, an emmy winning and oscar nominated producer/director and journalist, was diagnosed with AIDS after filming her documentaries in Africa. Trust Mashoro is not infected with AIDS, yet comes from a country with one of the highest infection rates, Zimbabwe. The two individuals shared how AIDS is handled in each country's culture, and through Ms. Sopher's most recent documentary "HIV Goddesses: Diary of A Filmmaker," there is evidently no room for women infected with HIV in America.

Now maybe it is my appreciation for a well made film, or perhaps my growing interests in sociology, but the excerpt I viewed from her documentary was extremely powerful, informative, and eye-opening. I had absolutely no idea the degree to which women have to hide the fact that they are infected with AIDS to remain socially accepted by their peers. While men seem to have a strong and supportive community for which victims of the disease can console each other and go about their lives, our American culture has not yet made room for such a community for women. Initially, doctors never thought to diagnose Ms. Sopher as HIV positive, despite her obvious symptoms. They viewed Ms. Sopher as a well-off, white women with no past history of drug usage or prostitution; someone who could never possibly contract such a disease. And yet, in 2000, she became the the first woman in the industry to publicly admit her infection of AIDS and ever since then, she has faced hardships.

In Africa, the disease is still looked down upon by the ignorant with a certain amount of disgust, yet women's groups can be found uniting and supporting those infected and informing the general public of the disease and the women who have it. Wouldn't we expect this in America? Yet why does America outcast this disease to such an extreme that women must suffer alone to avoid these social consequences? AIDS is not some dirty disease that only exists in nations of lesser wealth! What they do not know is that AIDS is a significant killer of women in the U.S. and we cannot let ignorance feed such misconceptions to create a world that judges those who are in distress.

The first step is always awareness.

JL- 10/01/2005

The Constant Gardener
The Way a Every Movie Should be Made

"Some very nasty things can be found under rocks, especially in foreign gardens." --Sir Bernard Pellegrin

I'll admit I've been busy. So busy that, dare I say, ranting has become nearly a forgotten art. But today I push aside the workload and overall college life to discuss the breathtaking film: The Constant Gardener.

Now to my surprise, many people seemed confused and somewhat frustrated when I mention the title, for they've never heard of it. If you're one of these individuals, don't panic and listen up: The Constant Gardener is a movie about stopping at nothing to expose the truth. It is about pushing aside life's comforts and taking risks for what is right. It is about undying love.

Tessa Quayle (Rachel Weisz) is a passionate activist who is found murdered in a desolate region of Northern Kenya. The British High Commission in Nairobi assume Tessa's husband, Justin Quayle (Ralph Fiennes), will leave the investigations alone, as he accepts her murder as a "crime of passion." Little do they know that the quiet and unambitious Justin begins to embark on his own quest for the truth. What begins as a search into his wife's rumored infidelities, leads to something much bigger and more horrible than he ever expected. As he travels around the world, risking his own life with every step he takes, Justin Quayle begins to unravel a conspiracy involving a corrupt pharmaceutical company and their experiments on the people of an African village. A conspiracy his wife had died for.

The narrative is nonlinear and creatively outlined and in combination with Fernando Meirelles' clever direction, the film has you constantly making false assumptions and increasing your suspicions. As suspense builds, the thriller leaves you guessing and second-guessing to what extent the conspiracy may reach.

Weisz shows incredible range and through flashbacks, an intricate and passionate relationship is developed between Tessa and Justin, with a brilliant chemistry of emotion between the two actors. Fiennes carries the movie outstandingly well, making his transformation from a mild-mannered government official to a man of determination and revenge fascinating to watch.

Through the cinematography alone, Meirelles captures the natural beauty of the African landscapes with breathtaking awe. The edgy, documentary-like style of the camera also adds to the almost unbearable suspense the film builds all too well. Most importantly, the spirit of the African village and its culture is beautifully portrayed, also displaying its fragile state and vulnerability to foreign powers and abusive corporations. This is where the essence of the film lies, as we naturally question how can such forces can take advantage of these beautiful cultures and these beautiful people?

If you know me, you've heard this before but I must repeat it: a movie is only as good at the message it has to say. And damn, this movie has a lot to say! If you go and watch this movie with just the slightest open-mind, I gaurantee you will be emotionally impacted in some way, shape, or form and will have great difficulties not thinking about the film for the following days to come.

And that's a good thing.

JL- 09/19/2005

Charlie vs. Willy
Battle for Eternal Glory

The day has come where Mr. Wonka donned his trademark hat once more. It wasn’t a sequel. It wasn’t a remake. But it was a [“better”] novel adaptation of Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. And although the filmmakers behind the latest summer blockbuster claimed it in no way overwrites or challenges that of the 1971’s timeless Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, one cannot help but draw comparisons to each film… including myself.

Growing up with the 1971 version with all of Gene Wilder’s undeniable talent and poise, I will admit that I saw the newer Burton version with little hope of enjoyment. But alas, I would be lying if I said that the film was not entertaining. Tim Burton seemed to be the most appropriate choice to adapt another Dahl story (if it just had to be done), equipped with a wonderfully creative mind and original visual style. And so Burton told the tale in a unique manner with visual beauty, along with the claim of a nearly perfect adaptation to the novel. And yet something irritates me about the movie… Wonka.

Now don’t get me wrong; I, along with the rest of the world, am a very big Johnny Depp fan. From What’s Eating Gilbert Grape? To Pirates of the Caribbean, I think he is one of today’s most skilled character actors. Yet his take on the eccentric Willy Wonka confuses me. My friends walk away from the theater saying his portrayal was nothing short of genius. I stay quiet as I look for some element that I missed. There must be something… anything… that went straight over my head, which is the key to my disagreement. And yet, there is nothing. I cannot praise Depp as genius in this role. Here’s why.

Burton and Depp’s approach to Wonka was an obvious one; make him a big kid. It makes perfect sense for Willy Wonka, owner of the world’s greatest candy factory, to be more-or-less an overgrown child and adding back stories throughout the film only emphasized this point. This is a clear, most likely the clearest, distinction between the two movies, for Wilder played a much different candy mastermind. He was an adult who was growing tiresome of the annoying children he makes candy for, allowing for a very sardonic and almost mad-scientist like personality. To me, this makes sense. But Depp’s Wonka does not.

If Wonka was truly a big kid who lacked the proper childhood to mature, why would he despise all other kids, or rather his peers. As a kid, you would expect Wonka to have a better grasp on the mind of a child; that is the clear advantage of thinking and acting like a kid. His rude behavior towards the children only exemplifies how much he does not understand them.

By the end of the movie this nagging parallel plagued my mind. Willy Wonka is the Grinch. They carry that same grinch-like grin of both delight (for his creations) and repulsion (for his ticket-winners). And by the end of the movie, a transformation strikes Wonka after a sudden epiphany. As if his heart grew three times in size, he suddenly understands the world he had hated so much; the world of children. So the film ends with Wonka cutting the seemingly Christmas-branded ham for a full table of new family members.

A bwahh?? It can’t be!
Perhaps it's not … but that’s my rant.

JL- 08/10/2005