As the credits rolled in Clint Eastwood’s Gran Torino, we hear a quiet piano and the soft voice of Eastwood singing the gentle lyrics - gentle now the tender breeze blows, whispers through my Gran Torino, whistling another tired song. It’s a wonderful, and tender conclusion to an intriguing work from Eastwood. But I had to look the lyrics up, because I just couldn’t hear them over the mass exodus that was going on in the theater. It was a strange experience. Never had I seen a film that obviously was so intent on having you stick around for at least the opening moments of the credits, only to have an audience so soundly reject the invitation.
I chalk it up to a strange, Sunday night crowd at an odd, Charlotte theater, because it’s pretty clear to me that the film earned that moment. It was a fitting finish to a film that took many surprising turns. At the outset, we are introduced to Clint’s Walt Kowalski, a surly old man who is burying his wife. He lives in the same house and Detroit neighborhood that he spent his life in, but it is a neighborhood that is radically changed. What was once a bedroom community for auto workers is now run-down and struggling with gang activity. It is also populated by a large Asian population, something that runs against the grain of this small-minded guy.
In those opening moments, I was bracing myself for a tough adventure. Clint is rarely on screen without offering a broad and over-the-top sneer that echoes his signature characters. His look took me aback, as I couldn’t understand what seemed to be silly overacting coming from this master. It became clear, though, as the plot developed, that Clint knew what he was doing. Walt, a tough, Korean War vet, intervenes when his neighbor’s son is facing tough pressure from a local gang. This moment elevates his status for that house and the neighborhood, and despite his best efforts to be left alone and despise the changes in this community, he is barraged with gifts from those around him. This leads him to a grudging relationship with the neighbor’s daughter, an awkward friendship that undergoes it’s own story when her brother, in an effort to prove his worth with that gang, attempts to steal Walt’s prized possession: his 1972 Gran Torino.
The family requires the son to work for Walt as a way of restoring honor, and in their friendship and in Walt’s friendship with the family, we see something that’s rarely seen in these kinds of films: humor. While his sneer in those opening moments seemed overplayed, it was effective at lightening the mood enough to accept the humorous turn. The humor keeps us engaged and keeps us looking fresh at what could otherwise be standard fare for films on racism and urban life.
As expected, Walt’s views on his neighbors are softened as he gets to know them, and in the relationship with the son, he begins to instill life lessons that show cultural connections between the boy’s family and Walt’s old-school ways. Both Walt and the family’s worlds are facing the pressure of the urban gang and it’s ways of destroying the lives of the young. Again, nothing we haven’t seen before, but the film effectively shows us the ways in which both the young boys and girls can feel trapped by that world.
The film wisely avoids trying to postulate broad solutions for the challenges of urban crime and the destructive force of gangs, but as it tries to find a solution for this kid, it again takes down an interesting road. Without spoiling the plot, I found myself questioning where Walt seemed to be heading. After all, at least as I understood it, Unforgiven was supposed to be Eastwood’s movement away from revenge fantasies. This film wants to be just that kind of fantasy, as the plot moves us to that place. But the turn it offers is something that I think Christians should find resonate with our own story.
Films on racism and urban life are both fairly cliched, and so I found myself walking away from Gran Torino (after the song ended) glad to see a master like Eastwood offer his own voice on both subjects. He was remarkably able to engage those cliches while giving us something different. I am doubtful that he has discovered any deep solutions for these problems, but with ideas in view like forging relationships, sharing values, and living self-sacrificially for our friends, he is pointing to virtues that need to be in play in these and many other problems that we face in our world.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
Slumdog Millionaire: A Review
With Sunday’s Oscar ceremony approaching, there are some races that seem settled. Among these is Best Picture, and if any film other than Slumdog Millionaire walks off with the trophy, it will be an upset that will provide much delight to writer’s everywhere. I admit that, once again, I find myself almost entirely uninterested in the Oscars, and it stretches my imagination to understand a Best Picture conversation that doesn’t even have The Dark Knight on the list. Still, of those that remain, I have no doubt that Slumdog is a worthy recipient.
Given last years’ horse race between No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood, it’s fascinating to see Hollywood’s shizophrenic personality that it has so readily embraced Slumdog. To be clear, Slumdog is as uncynical, positive, and hopeful picture as I’ve seen in awhile. That alone could make it hard to watch (cynic that I am), but the top-to-bottom quality of the film is just so strong, it quickly drew me in. The story centers on Jamal, a young man who is making his way through India’s version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire to setup the chance to be the game’s big winner. The game producers are suspicious, and so we find him being carted away and put through brutal questioning from police about how he has rigged the game. As he explains how he knew the answers to each question, it allows him to tell about his life. Born in the slums, we see him as a survivor from his earliest days. He faces dreadful poverty and all that it entails, including the corrupting influence of those who take advantage of these children. We see him growing up learning to survive, and fiercely looking out for this brother and Prem, a young girl he meets along the way.
As the story moves on, we see Jamal grow up, getting out of the tougher parts of his circumstances, but trying and failing to rescue Prem from her lot. As he ages, his love for her only increases, and we slowly understand this film as an unashamed love story. As this comes clear, we see his journey in the game show from two different perspectives. The nation is gripped by a rags-to-riches story of a boy with the potential to earn extraordinary wealth. Jamal is consumed in the midst of this story with the hope of rescuing his love. How this plays out is better left to the viewing. Suffice it to say, the way the story is told was fun and captivating.
The question that frames the movie is why this would happen. Is he lucky? Is he cheating? The answer the movie gives is simple: “Because it is written.” The linking of ideas of destiny, fate, or providence to a story about a game show contestant could easily come across as trite, but it is Slumdog’s success that it earns the right to make this connection. Still, I had to wonder as I left the theater what it is I should have been rooting for. Even while Jamal was hoping for something deeper than just “getting the girl,” the game show’s viewers were just interested in watching a lottery winner. Does invoking these terms around a story of material success play to the worst aspects of our materialism? Is this an invocation of the God of health and wealth?
Despite this initial trepidation, I eventually made my peace with where the film went. Jamal has a clear eyed understanding that the money was not going to save him. For him, the money was merely a tool for a more worthy pursuit. The film’s hope lies in the promise that there is something or someone at work behind all of the horrors of life that is bringing about something good and worthwhile. That the film remains agnostic about what that something or someone is doesn’t diminish the worthiness of the message.
This is the right movie for a season of uncertainty. Slumdog Millionaire serves as a useful conversation partner for Christians, whose hope lies in the sovereign power and character of a God who is indeed writing “the end from the beginning” and who is working out good even in the midst of the darkest of circumstances. That’s a message that we need reminding of in all seasons.
Given last years’ horse race between No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood, it’s fascinating to see Hollywood’s shizophrenic personality that it has so readily embraced Slumdog. To be clear, Slumdog is as uncynical, positive, and hopeful picture as I’ve seen in awhile. That alone could make it hard to watch (cynic that I am), but the top-to-bottom quality of the film is just so strong, it quickly drew me in. The story centers on Jamal, a young man who is making his way through India’s version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire to setup the chance to be the game’s big winner. The game producers are suspicious, and so we find him being carted away and put through brutal questioning from police about how he has rigged the game. As he explains how he knew the answers to each question, it allows him to tell about his life. Born in the slums, we see him as a survivor from his earliest days. He faces dreadful poverty and all that it entails, including the corrupting influence of those who take advantage of these children. We see him growing up learning to survive, and fiercely looking out for this brother and Prem, a young girl he meets along the way.
As the story moves on, we see Jamal grow up, getting out of the tougher parts of his circumstances, but trying and failing to rescue Prem from her lot. As he ages, his love for her only increases, and we slowly understand this film as an unashamed love story. As this comes clear, we see his journey in the game show from two different perspectives. The nation is gripped by a rags-to-riches story of a boy with the potential to earn extraordinary wealth. Jamal is consumed in the midst of this story with the hope of rescuing his love. How this plays out is better left to the viewing. Suffice it to say, the way the story is told was fun and captivating.
The question that frames the movie is why this would happen. Is he lucky? Is he cheating? The answer the movie gives is simple: “Because it is written.” The linking of ideas of destiny, fate, or providence to a story about a game show contestant could easily come across as trite, but it is Slumdog’s success that it earns the right to make this connection. Still, I had to wonder as I left the theater what it is I should have been rooting for. Even while Jamal was hoping for something deeper than just “getting the girl,” the game show’s viewers were just interested in watching a lottery winner. Does invoking these terms around a story of material success play to the worst aspects of our materialism? Is this an invocation of the God of health and wealth?
Despite this initial trepidation, I eventually made my peace with where the film went. Jamal has a clear eyed understanding that the money was not going to save him. For him, the money was merely a tool for a more worthy pursuit. The film’s hope lies in the promise that there is something or someone at work behind all of the horrors of life that is bringing about something good and worthwhile. That the film remains agnostic about what that something or someone is doesn’t diminish the worthiness of the message.
This is the right movie for a season of uncertainty. Slumdog Millionaire serves as a useful conversation partner for Christians, whose hope lies in the sovereign power and character of a God who is indeed writing “the end from the beginning” and who is working out good even in the midst of the darkest of circumstances. That’s a message that we need reminding of in all seasons.
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