Past Imperfect

Movies: Birth of a Nation

Anyone who keeps up with film culture knows the controversial story behind Nate Parker's passion project, The Birth of a Nation. The film depicts the story of Nat Turner, a slave who led a rebellion in 1831. The film is not entirely accurate to history (more on this below), but the true controversy lies in Parker himself.

Accused of rape in 1999, Parker was acquitted, but his roommate (and co-writer of The Birth of a Nation), Jean McGianni Celestin, was found guilty of rape and spent time in prison. When these charges re-surfaced while Parker promoted the film, he choose not to address them.

Is Parker a rapist? It seems very probable (despite his being acquitted) given the circumstances of the night in question. His accuser was extremely drunk to the point of not being able to consent. But let's say for the sake of argument that Parker didn't touch his accuser and in fact is not guilty of rape--why then, would he still keep the company and share a writing credit with a man (his friend and roommate) who WAS charged with rape? Why would he not address the accusations head on when they arose during the promotion of The Birth of a Nation?

I wasn't there in the room the night Parker and Celestin likely had sex with an unconscious woman, so I don't know with 100% certainty what happened. But given what I do know about rape culture (victims are often ridiculed and rarely see justice served) and the way Parker has acted (as if the rape charges are beneath him--as if he doesn't need to address them in a serious, honest way), I'd say this guy is 1) guilty and 2) an asshole.

So why did I go to see The Birth of a Nation? Well, because I wanted to. I was curious as to what a story of violence and objectification would look like in the hands of a man who likely committed violence and objectification himself. A man who claims that God gave him a vision to bring this story to theaters.

Everyone approaches this issue differently. Some people go out of their way to avoid art created by known (or heavily assumed) rapists/criminals, such as Roman Polanski, Woody Allen, David O. Russell, and Bryan Singer. (And it's not just men. Marion Zimmer Bradley, author of the beloved Mists of Avalon series, was accused by her daughter of sexual abuse). I highly respect people who make an effort to not support work done by people who have been accused of abuse and rape, mostly because I am not as pure as that. Although I haven't seen a Woodly Allen film since Midnight in Paris (mostly b/c his recent work tends to suck), I have watched Roman Polanski films and Michael Fassbender movies (Fassbender was accused of domestic violence in 2010) for the only reason that...well, I wanna. I don't really have an excuse other than I simply want to see these movies.

But everyone has their limits. And here is perhaps a chilling thought: these are only the people *we know* have been accused of rape/violence. What about the almost certainly hundreds or thousands of actors, directors, musicians, and public figures that we admire who have committed similar crimes, which as of yet have not come to light? Or, what about the people we interact with everyday--family, friends, partners--who have committed acts of violence that we simply don't know about?

In any case, maybe I'm just justifying myself. The point is, I saw The Birth of a Nation, and while it is imperfect, it's actually not that bad of a movie.

The film follows Nat Turner, a man born into slavery in Southampton Country, Virginia. Turner was taught to read by the wife of his owner, and he grew up to be a preacher among his fellow slaves. The film depicts Turner's life on the Turner plantation (his owner was Benjamin Turner, who eventually died and left everything to his son, Samuel) as relatively pleasant and non-violent. Turner even married an enslaved woman who lived a few miles down the road and the two had a baby together. But when Samuel Turner started taking Nat to other plantations to preach to slaves, Nat began to see how the lives of other slaves were filled with wretchedness and violence. Seeing this led him to plan and carry out a rebellion in 1831 in which a group of 70 or so rebel slaves and free men of color killed around 60 men, women, and children. The rebellion was quickly squashed and Nat Turner was hanged for his crimes.

I'm not a history major, so I know fuck-all about Nat Turner expect for the fact that he led a rebellion. Turner's history, it turns out, is difficult to tease out since the historical accounts are shaky and marred by propaganda and hearsay. This article goes into more detail about Nat Turner's story vs. what is depicted in The Birth of a Nation.

The film itself is quite good. Parker plays Nat Turner with a zealous conviction. It's interesting to ponder how Parker wanted to portray him--Turner believed he had a mandate from God to engage in a violent rebellion, and in the film you see him go from conflicted preacher to, well, kind of a crazy man with a wild look in his eyes and the kind of fiery conviction needed to lead dozens of men to almost sure death. Did Parker intend to play Turner this way, or did Parker's own convictions and supposed vision from God to make this film blind him to Turner's own faults and weaknesses?

The film contains historical inaccuracies and cleaning up of the Turner legend. For example, Turner is spurred on to rebellion after the gang rape of his wife, an event that apparently did not occur (although maybe it did! Female slaves were raped all the damn time in the Antebellum South). Also, when the rebellion occurs, you see Turner and his fellow rebels kill men. Evil, slave-owning men. What you don't see is that they also killed the slave owners' wives and children--including infants.

The long and short of it: Parker re-wrote history to make the Turner Rebellion appear more "clean" than it actually was. Now, here's the thing--filmmakers re-write history all the time. But there is something especially icky about a man accused of rape re-writing history to suit his own needs. Art imitating life a little too closely.

The acting in The Birth of a Nation is undeniably good. Parker gives a great performance, as does Armie Hammer as Samuel Turner--a man who grew up with Nat and was his childhood friend...until he became master of his father's plantation and a virulent alcoholic. Penelope Ann Miller has a great role as Elizabeth Turner, the mistress of the plantation who teaches young Nat to read, thus setting in motion everything to come.

The film is appropriately violent without being sensational. Multiple rapes of enslaved women happen off screen. Additionally, Nat sees the brutality of other plantation owners, particularly in a devastating scene where a slave on a neighboring plantation who refuses to eat has his teeth knocked out and a funnel shoved into his mouth and is force-fed gruel. It's a fucking gruesome scene, but it serves to awaken Nat to the hell that other slaves experienced.

If someone were to ask me "should I see this movie", I would say no, you don't have to. Other films--12 Years a Slave comes to mind--do what this film does, only better and with fewer rapists involved.

That said, The Birth of a Nation itself is not a bad film. It's also not great. What it is is a decent film tainted by its creator, whose "magical thinking" not only adds to the dishonesty inherent in this film, but to the dishonesty inherent in his own life.

Grade: B- 

Woman on the Verge

Movies: The Girl on the Train

Last summer I reviewed Paula Hawkins' best-selling novel The Girl on the Train and said that while I appreciated that Hawkins allowed her female characters to be incredibly unlikeable, and never glamorized alcoholism (alcoholism plays a central role in the film and the book), The Girl on the Train is no Gone Girl. I get that books and movies should be judged on their own merits and not in comparison to other books and movies,  but it's really hard to separate The Girl on the Train from Gone Girl since the two are both wildly popular crime/mystery novels with unreliable narrators, flawed protagonists, deep undercurrents of misogyny and violence, and...well, they both have "girl" in the title.

Be it book or movie, The Girl on the Train wilts in comparison to the superior Gone Girl.

The Girl on the Train follows Rachel Watson (Emily Blunt, an elegant actress who does a great job playing vulnerable and pathetic), an out of work, alcoholic, divorced 30-something basically living out every woman's worst nightmare: she is an object of pity. She is unwanted, not sexy, lonely. And she is unraveling. Even though she lost her job a year before, she still takes the train into New York City every day, spying on the house she used to share with her husband, Tom (Justin Theroux, sexy as hell), who still lives there with his new wife, Anna (Rebecca Ferguson), and their infant daughter.

Consumed with sadness and envy, Rachel also spies on Tom and Anna's sexy, young next door neighbors--she fantasizes that this couple have everything she lost: true, real love. A happy home. A strong bond. So when she sees the female half of the couple kissing another man, it enrages her. She proceeds to get black out drunk at the train station and runs off to confront the woman. She wakes up covered in blood and vomit, with no memory of what happened. When she sees that the young woman, Megan Hipwell (Haley Bennett), has gone missing, Rachel wonders if she saw something that night. Or worse, did something.


The film switches points of view between Rachel, Anna, and Megan. All three women seem to match up with a stereotype of womanhood: Anna is the perfect, beautiful mother who has it all: happy baby, sexy husband, nice home. Megan is the sultry (slutty?) young woman with a talent for using her feminine wiles to manipulate men. And Rachel is the sad loser no man would want. Hollywood apparently didn't have the balls to take Rachel's portrayal in the book the whole nine yards: in the novel, she is overweight in addition to being an alcoholic. While Emily Blunt slums it a bit, she's nowhere near being fat.

You'll notice that all of these women's personalities and dreams require men to be in the picture. Anna is wanted by a man for her beauty and stability; Megan is wanted for her sexuality, but easily discarded after being used. And Rachel isn't wanted by men at all. I believe Hawkins was attempting to subvert these stereotypes in her book, but in my opinion she didn't subvert them enough.

In the end, of course, it's the men in their lives that drive these women insane. It's men--not other women--who hurt them and play them against one another. Who become jealous when they interact with other men. All three women in the book/movie might be flawed, but it's the men who are destructive.

Both the film and the book seem to want to say something deep about relationships and gender roles, but struggle amidst the massive amount of plot going on. With a constantly shifting point of view, flashbacks, unreliable narrators, an numerous twists, turns, and surprises, The Girl on the Train feels overstuffed and pulpy. What I liked about Gone Girl was that it was so ruthlessly, relentlessly bitter. Gone Girl had some inconsistencies and flaws as well, but it was more focused. The Girl on the Train, much like its protagonist Rachel, is sloppy and all over the place: it hits some of the notes and misses many others.

Still, when the final confrontation happens, the visceral thrill of seeing a beaten down woman fight back is as heady as anything. Most viewers will guess what happened to Megan Hipwell long before the final reveal, but the final scenes are still very good (if, again, pulpy).

The Girl on the Train, like the book it's based on, isn't a masterpiece. But it's not bad either. It's a good popcorn flick for a grey, rainy day. Just maybe don't watch it with your boyfriend or husband.

Grade: C+

Movie Dump, pt. 3

Movies: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children, Knock Knock, Holy Hell


Yes, another batch of movie reviews. But if you're into full-length reviews, fear not--I'm seeing The Girl on the Train and The Birth of a Nation later this week and will give them each their own blog entry.



***

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

Based on the novel by Ransom Riggs (which I have not read), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children is an entertaining, yet forgettable fantasy film with beautiful visuals and a confusing, overstuffed plot

Directed by Tim Burton, Miss Peregrine is a step up from some of the director's more recent fare, such as the Alice in Wonderland movies, but it's also not among (or even close to) his best work. At his best, Burton uses his signature quirky storytelling style to help audiences connect emotionally to the characters in his film--think of innocent, yet scary-looking Edward Scissorhands trying to fit into a candy colored suburb, or endlessly optimistic Ed Wood getting his awful movies produced. More recently, Burton used some restraint in his movie Big Eyes and the result was the heartfelt story of a female artist manipulated by her domineering husband. Burton knows how to tell a story and get audiences to care. He has proven it time and again.

At his worst, however, his movies forsake plot and nuance for wacky visuals and cartoonish characters (see: both Alice in Wonderland films). Miss Peregrine is only barely on the "right" side. Visuals are valued above all else, and what visuals they are! In Miss Peregrine, teenager Jake (Asa Butterfield) honors his grandfather's dying words to find Miss Peregrine, the woman who ran the home for children that Jake's grandfather grew up in. According to stories his grandpa told Jake as a child, Miss Peregrine had the power to turn into a bird, and all the children she watched over were "peculiars"--they all had abilities or quirks, such as the girl who was lighter than air and had to wear lead shoes to keep from floating away, or the boy with a hive of bees living in his stomach.

Jake and his disinterested father (Chris O'Dowd in a thankless role) head to the Welsh island where the grandfather grew up. Jake finds Miss Peregrine's home--it's a pile of rubble since the Germans dropped a bomb right on it in 1943. But when he explores the shell of the house, he runs into the peculiars who lure him through a passage and into a "loop"--basically, they live the same say--Sept. 3rd, 1943--over and over, setting back time right before the bomb lands on the house.

From here, the movie brings together a mishmash of fantastical themes: time loops (one can't help compare certain scenes in the movie to Groundhog Day), children with supernatural abilities, evil scientists, and grotesque monsters. While the film is enjoyable enough, it's difficult to 1) follow the plot, especially when the gang of peculiars starts traveling to *different* time loops and 2) really care about any of the characters. There are any number of relationships to be explored in this film: Jake and his beloved grandfather, Jake and his barely-giving-a-shit dad, Jake and his peculiar love interest. But there's not enough time or space in the movie to truly explore these relationships. Too much plot gets in the way.

I can't compare the movie to the book, as I haven't read the book...but books are able to juggle multiple themes over the course of hundreds of pages. In directing a movie adaptation of Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children, Burton may have bitten off more than he (or the audience) could chew.

Grade: C

***

Knock Knock

The Eli Roth film Knock Knock is garbage, plain and simple. It's really just an awful movie on so many levels.

In Knock Knock, Keanu Reeves plays Evan, a 40-something married man with a lovely wife and two adorable children. The artistic family--Evan is an architect and his wife, Karen, is a sculptor--live in a fancy home filled with art, music, and love. But when Karen takes the kids on a beach trip and leaves dad at home for the weekend, temptation strikes.

By temptation, I mean two scantily clad young women, Genesis (Lorenza Izzo) and Bel (Ana de Armas), who knock on Evan's door and beg to be let in from the thunderstorm outside and to use his phone to call an Uber. The two young ladies become increasingly flirtatious with Evan, who behaves like a complete gentleman--avoiding the ladies' flirtatious caresses, turning his head away from their nubile bodies, etc.

Ultimately, the two women practically force themselves on Evan, who succumbs to temptation and has a threesome with them. But what's super gross about all this is that Evan is literally saying "No! Stop!" over and over while Bel and Genesis shove their hands down his pants. What is this, dear readers? The correct answer is, of course, sexual assault. But the movie doesn't see it that way. Instead of presenting the women as fucking rapists, they're presented as naughty nymphs sent to tempt a happily married man. Sure, eventually Evan "participates", but only after saying "no" eleventy-billion times.

When the women don't leave the next day, Evan begins to realize he really is fucked. I won't reveals what happens after the first act of the film, but long story short: Genesis and Bel are psychos hell-bent on destroying this man's life for no reason other than their own amusement. It's misogynist trash that suggests that women--especially young, beautiful women--are crazy bitches who just can't want to destroy men. And men, of course, are totally innocent and weak in the face of feminine wiles.

Knock Knock is labeled as "erotic horror". That's a fucking laugh. There is nothing erotic about this movie, or the women who are INCREDIBLY annoying. Sure, they have nice bodies, but OH MY GOD they are awful in every other way.

My advice is to read the wikipedia article on Knock Knock is you want to know what fate befalls Evan. Don't bother watching the movie, which is an insulting waste of time.

Grade: D+

***

Holy Hell

Yes, it's another cult movie! Unlike The Invitation and The Sacrament, which I reviewed recently, Holy Hell is a documentary about a real life cult. Director Will Allen was in the Buddhafield cult for 22 years before he left (along with many others who had been in the cult since the 1980s) in the mid-2000s.

Led by a bizarre and charismatic man, Michel Rostand, the Buddhafield started out as more of a hippy-dippy commune where young people lived together, worked together, and by all accounts lived happy, healthy lives. Allen interviews a number of ex-cult members who recall wonderful friendships and experiences that came out of being part of Buddhafield.

But as the years went on, Michel, the leader of the cult who claimed to have a direct connection to God (don't they all?), became more and more narcissistic and strange. It became less about searching for God and looking inward and more about worshipping Michel, who was obsessed with his own beauty and ego (he underwent so much plastic surgery he began to look flat-out scary). The ex-cult members recall feeling angry and dissatisfied but unable to leave. Indeed, it was as if Michel was in an abusive, co-dependent relationship with all of them.

The big reveal, which isn't really a surprise if you know anything about cults (or hierarchical religion, for that matter), is that Michel was raping/sexually abusing dozens of the young men in the group for years. They would come to him for "therapy" sessions, he would fuck them against their will (Who can say "no" to a living god, which Michel believed he was), and then make them pay for the sessions. An interview with one of the ex-cult members is particularly distressing as he bitterly recalls being forcibly fucked by Michel weekly for 5 years.

What makes Holy Hell unique is that many of the members ended up leaving the cult (although Michel is still out there with a gang of followers) and now can look back with sober clarity at the years they wasted following a rapist and a fraud. The members, now in their 50s and 60s struggle to find meaning in the two decades they spent in the Buddhafield and realize that their friendships with other members gave meaning to those decades. Allen directs Holy Hell with sensitivity and understanding--he, too, believed in Michel and was raped by Michel. The ex-cult members are not portrayed as foolish weaklings or crazy people, but as complex human beings who see both the positive and negative in their experience with Buddhafield. Although many of them ended up traumatized by the emotional, psychological, and sexual abuse, Holy Hell shows that many of them are now on a path of healing and acceptance.

Grade: B