Last week, I finished what was certainly one of the most unique books I’ve read this year: Mark Barrowcliffe’s The Elfish Gene. In it, Barrowcliffe shares his memories as a teenager in industrial England in the mid-70’s. Already a bit of a strange kid and a misfit, he discovered a new game, Dungeons and Dragons, and quickly it came to consume his life. He writes with a strong self-disparaging tone, dismissing the person that he was. While he understands that adolescents, and particularly adolescent boys are prone to obsessions, the world of fantasy and role-playing games was a kind of obsession that to his mind worked much destruction on his life. Uncomfortable with the person that he was (and what teenager isn’t) he threw himself into a fantasy world that was for him more real than than the real world.
With an entertainment culture that can’t quite shake the “reality TV” bug, we have seen a number of movies that have served up various levels of reflection on this notion of reality verses fantasy. Bolt stands in this tradition, a kind of Truman Show for kids. In it, we are introduced to our central character, Bolt, a dog who is the centerpiece of a popular television show. He stars as a dog with superpowers, charged each week with fighting evil and typically doing his best to save his owner, Penny. The trick is that the show has been elaborately designed to convince Bolt that he is this superdog, and so every aspect of his life is designed to convey the fiction. This is fine, until a series of events sets him loose in the real world, on a search for Penny, with no knowledge that he is in fact just a normal dog.
Since this is a Truman Show theme aimed for younger audiences, the level of reflection in the film is more muted, but even so, it is driving towards some worthwhile themes. Bolt eventually discovers what he really is, and so he must wrestle with anything of his old life was real, and particularly his relationship with Penny. I’ll leave the plot points aside, but as he goes on his journey in a way that serves up some worthwhile entertainment, we witness his growth in character as he embraces who he is even given his newfound limitations.
Watching it, I couldn’t help but setting the film alongside Barrowcliffe’s reflections in The Elfish Gene. Emerging from years of extreme devotion to roleplaying and fantasy (and trust me, D&Ders, this dude was weird by anyone’s standards!), he eventually carved out a fairly ordinary existence. Years later, he reconnected with one of those old friends, a gamer that he hadn’t seen in decades. As they got to know each other, he learned that after years of hard living, his friend had become a Christian and was now living a very different kind of existence.
As the agnostic Barrowcliffe considered his gamer friend turned believer, he mused on the connection. Perhaps (I paraphrase) the desire to spark the imagination is something needed for one to turn to faith. He writes with an outsider’s perspective, but as he does, I find myself resonating from the insider’s perspective. Indeed, the blessing of faith is largely a blessing of imagination, to conceive that the impossible can be possible, that the supernatural might engage the natural, that are hopes might become real because of a truth that, as Rich Mullins once said, “is too good to be real, but is more real than the air we breathe.”
And so I return to Bolt, who must come down to earth and realize that his life as a superhero was merely an illusion. What is left for him, though, is a kind of heroism that emerges because of a fierce devotion to those he loves, and a willingness to sacrifice himself for others. The marriage of imagination and vital relationship creates a kind of character that is winsome and inviting. For Barrowcliffe, he discovered the one without the other, and it proved destructive. We need both, and Bolt offers an entertaining reminder of that need.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
Quantum of Solace: A Review
“Christ, I miss the Cold War.” - M
I grew up in the Roger Moore era of James Bond. Considered anathema by Connery fans, I knew no better, and so enjoyed Octopussy and A View to a Kill, the latter considered by many to be among the worst of the Bond legacy. Still, the Bond I knew was quirky, with plenty of comedic panache and a lot of innuendo that my 9-year old self never really picked up on. As my Bond horizons broadened over the years, I came to appreciate the different looks that the character has gotten over the years, an evolving character trying to keep pace with the times. Clearly, in movies like Goldeneye, the first for Brosnan’s Bond, it was clear that the creators were concerned that their character was a relic of a time that had past, and have struggled to find a beat for the misogynistic, relationally aloof, arrogant master spy that has been Bond through the years.
And so we turn to Daniel Craig’s sophomore outing as a young and novice Bond. It may be worthy of comment on the creators and their approach to the character, on the marketplace for spy heroes in film, or on the culture itself, and is probably a comment on all three, but we are reminded this time out that this is a Bond for a new day. In Casino Royale, we saw a brilliant interpretation of an arrogant but green Bond, growing into his character and figuring things out. He fought with rawness rather than with the precision of other interpretations. He made mistakes and had to compensate for those mistakes along the way. But the real gift of Royale was the one thing that Bond never had much of: passion.
The love interests of Bond through the years have been fine when they’ve been treated like the playthings that Bond uses them for. Every now and then the films have tried to take some of these interests seriously, and that almost always feel thin. Here, though, we saw Bond falling for Vesper Lynne, showing a real vulnerability and a viable explanation for his approach to women through the years. Her betrayal and death gave him motivation at the end of the film, a motivation that drives him in this film.
The villain here is a secret organization, an international group whose complexity is beyond Bond’s imagination and whose ultimate purpose remains elusive. What they learn at every corner is that their corrupting influence seems to know no bounds, penetrating even the ranks of MI-6, and that they always seem to be working a step behind this group.
I’d like to tell you that the machinations of the organization is fun to watch, but honestly, Quantum of Solace rarely slows down to really explain what’s going on. The film opts instead for movement and action, constant movement and action. This version of Bond should probably pay royalties to Jason Bourne, because he is certainly cut off the same cloth. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, as the Bourne trilogy clearly figured out spy thrillers for a post-Cold War era. But it does mean that the pacing and cutting of the film is frenetic. I expect most will spend the film not sure what’s going on, but knowing that whatever it is it is really tense and exciting.
I’m not sure that any version of Bond has offered much of a positive character worthy of emulation, but this version has his own unique challenges. You still have his low view of women and his arrogance, but this time you get a fierce and unrelenting anger. Constantly he pushes against M and MI-6, not because he is right and they are wrong, but he is personally driven and they have broader concerns. This Bond is a modern-day cowboy, pushing against the system to find his “quantum of solace,” a solace that will only be found in blood-spilling vengeance.
Thus, this Bond is mostly a revenge fantasy, but unlike the Bourne trilogy, which plays with the same themes, the film doesn’t wind up with much of a redemptive voice. This Bond will get his revenge, will feel less than complete from it, but will press on and keep moving. No time for reflection when there’s a chase to run.
All of this is not to say that I didn’t enjoy the film. While this film can’t top Casino Royale, that was a hard one to live up to. Still, as I see this anger played out on screen, I can’t help but thinking of the irony that the Bourne trilogy, which road the coattails of Bond’s success, has in many ways offered us a more substantive reflection on revenge that Bond has. Bond’s pursuit in this film often seem hollow, and its merit found mostly in the fact that his pursuit by happenstance serves the end of his job. As an action movie, it’s a great ride. As a character study, I can’t help but feel that something is missing.
I grew up in the Roger Moore era of James Bond. Considered anathema by Connery fans, I knew no better, and so enjoyed Octopussy and A View to a Kill, the latter considered by many to be among the worst of the Bond legacy. Still, the Bond I knew was quirky, with plenty of comedic panache and a lot of innuendo that my 9-year old self never really picked up on. As my Bond horizons broadened over the years, I came to appreciate the different looks that the character has gotten over the years, an evolving character trying to keep pace with the times. Clearly, in movies like Goldeneye, the first for Brosnan’s Bond, it was clear that the creators were concerned that their character was a relic of a time that had past, and have struggled to find a beat for the misogynistic, relationally aloof, arrogant master spy that has been Bond through the years.
And so we turn to Daniel Craig’s sophomore outing as a young and novice Bond. It may be worthy of comment on the creators and their approach to the character, on the marketplace for spy heroes in film, or on the culture itself, and is probably a comment on all three, but we are reminded this time out that this is a Bond for a new day. In Casino Royale, we saw a brilliant interpretation of an arrogant but green Bond, growing into his character and figuring things out. He fought with rawness rather than with the precision of other interpretations. He made mistakes and had to compensate for those mistakes along the way. But the real gift of Royale was the one thing that Bond never had much of: passion.
The love interests of Bond through the years have been fine when they’ve been treated like the playthings that Bond uses them for. Every now and then the films have tried to take some of these interests seriously, and that almost always feel thin. Here, though, we saw Bond falling for Vesper Lynne, showing a real vulnerability and a viable explanation for his approach to women through the years. Her betrayal and death gave him motivation at the end of the film, a motivation that drives him in this film.
The villain here is a secret organization, an international group whose complexity is beyond Bond’s imagination and whose ultimate purpose remains elusive. What they learn at every corner is that their corrupting influence seems to know no bounds, penetrating even the ranks of MI-6, and that they always seem to be working a step behind this group.
I’d like to tell you that the machinations of the organization is fun to watch, but honestly, Quantum of Solace rarely slows down to really explain what’s going on. The film opts instead for movement and action, constant movement and action. This version of Bond should probably pay royalties to Jason Bourne, because he is certainly cut off the same cloth. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, as the Bourne trilogy clearly figured out spy thrillers for a post-Cold War era. But it does mean that the pacing and cutting of the film is frenetic. I expect most will spend the film not sure what’s going on, but knowing that whatever it is it is really tense and exciting.
I’m not sure that any version of Bond has offered much of a positive character worthy of emulation, but this version has his own unique challenges. You still have his low view of women and his arrogance, but this time you get a fierce and unrelenting anger. Constantly he pushes against M and MI-6, not because he is right and they are wrong, but he is personally driven and they have broader concerns. This Bond is a modern-day cowboy, pushing against the system to find his “quantum of solace,” a solace that will only be found in blood-spilling vengeance.
Thus, this Bond is mostly a revenge fantasy, but unlike the Bourne trilogy, which plays with the same themes, the film doesn’t wind up with much of a redemptive voice. This Bond will get his revenge, will feel less than complete from it, but will press on and keep moving. No time for reflection when there’s a chase to run.
All of this is not to say that I didn’t enjoy the film. While this film can’t top Casino Royale, that was a hard one to live up to. Still, as I see this anger played out on screen, I can’t help but thinking of the irony that the Bourne trilogy, which road the coattails of Bond’s success, has in many ways offered us a more substantive reflection on revenge that Bond has. Bond’s pursuit in this film often seem hollow, and its merit found mostly in the fact that his pursuit by happenstance serves the end of his job. As an action movie, it’s a great ride. As a character study, I can’t help but feel that something is missing.
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