Authoritative Voice

Movies: Compliance

The film Compliance is deeply, deeply disturbing--all the more so because it is based on actual events. Now, sometimes when a film claims to be based on true events, the "truth" is often twisted to the benefit of the story. The events that occur in Compliance are practically a play-by-play of what actually happened in reality. And in order to explain the movie to you, I pretty much have to give the entire plot away. If you don't want to be spoiled, I urge you to stop reading and watch Compliance when you're in the mood for a film that will destroy your faith in humanity. Maybe this weekend? :) :)


So, in real life, in April of 2004, a man called a McDonald's in Kentucky pretending to be a police officer. He told the manager on duty that an employee--a young female--had been accused of stealing money from a customer earlier that day. The manager, Donna Summers, took the employee, Louise Ogborn, to the back of the store, and under the direction of "Officer Scott", searched her belongs, strip-searched her, and kept her clothes from her. Ogborn was forced to wear apron while they all waited for the police to arrive. Since Summers had to get back to work, she called her fiance, Walter Nix, to come in and watch Ogborn. For the next two hours, Nix forced Ogborn to perform jumping jacks in the nude, he inserted his fingers into her vagina, he spanked her, and he forced her to perform oral sex on him. Yes, he was told to do all this by the supposed Officer.

When the police got involved in the case, they discovered that similar prank phone calls had occurred dozens of times in 30 states. The investigation lead to the arrest of David Stewart. Stewart was eventually acquitted of all charges due to lack of evidence. (Thanks, Wikipedia!)

In Compliance, director Craig Zobel changes the names, the restaurant (it's called "ChickWich" in the film), and some of the details, but the rest of the story remains the same. As Zobel imagines it, these events occurred within a perfect storm: ChickWich's manager, Sandra, is having a terrible day because an employee didn't close the freezer door the night before, resulting in $1500 of spoiled food. Young employee, Becky (Dreama Walker, of Don't Trust the B--- in Apartment 23 fame), gets on Sandra's nerves as she texts instead of working and acts like a typical sassy teenager. When the call from "Officer Daniels" comes in, the man on the other end sounds authoritative and alternatively professional and a little intimidating. He easily convinces Sandra to search Becky's belongs and, eventually, strip search her. Occasionally, Becky talks to the officer, who seems to know all about her drug addict brother, and uses that information to frighten her even more.

It seems bizarre that no one stops and says "Hey, I think this situation is actually illegal!", but with the stress of the situation and the amazing power an authoritative, white man's voice has over...well, all of us, you can kind of understand how Sandra and everyone involved would allow things to escalate.

The shit really hits the fan when Sandra calls in Van, her fiance, to "guard" Becky while Sandra works out front. Van is portrayed as not a very intelligent man, and although he initially resists the "Officer's" directions to strip Becky, make her bend over, expose herself, etc, he is eventually convinced. These events do not occur when Sandra is in the room and, in fact, when she comes in to check on Becky and Van, the two immediately cover Becky back up and separate. Both of them know that what is occurring is fucked up, but Becky is too frightened and vulnerable to fight back and Van is...I suppose mesmerized at the power he is given over a naked young woman--power authorized by another man's voice and nothing more.

Again, the events are unbelievable to me and yet...they happened. Dozens of times. As did the Milgram Obedience to Authority experiments and the Stanford Prison experiment. The combination of respect for authority figures that is instilled in us from childhood, combined with stress and fear, can make people do horrible things that look insane from the outside, but seem to make complete sense to the person who is doing them. One of the best scenes in Compliance is that last one, in which Sandra is interviewed by a news anchor who asks what she thought when she came in to the storeroom and Becky was still naked. Sandra claims "She was never naked. She was always wearing an apron." When they roll the security tape to show Becky, obviously naked and clearly begging Sandra for help, the camera stays on Sandra's face as shock, horror, and ultimately denial cross over it. In the last lines of the film, she makes awkward small talk with the anchor--choosing not to fully accept her part in the horror.

Some reviewers initially argued that Compliance was exploitative and aimed more to titillate the audience than make them feel empathy for Becky. In my opinion, the film desexualizes the events as much as it can. The stark lighting, the ominous music, and the acting--oh, the glorious acting!--make it clear that THIS IS NOT OK when Van spanks Becky and makes her do other things. While there are definitely elements of the pornographic, this film clearly does not condone the violence that occurs.

As I mentioned before, the acting really makes the film. Ann Dowd gives a wonderful and (mostly) sympathetic performance as Sandra--the middle-aged, schoolmarmish manager. She's a woman who genuinely thinks she is just doing the right thing, although it gets ugly when she claims to be a victim just as Becky was at the end. Dreama Walker is perfect and fearless as Becky. She's plays a perfect 19 year old: one moment she's sassy and owning her youth and attractiveness, the next she's angry and frightened at being accused of stealing. Finally, she is--as the title suggests--completely compliant out of fear and exhaustion. Her eyes just go dead. It's horrifying. Even Bill Camp, who plays the dimwitted, predatory Van, gives a great "ugly" performance. In real life, Walter Nix, who raped Louise Ogborn during the McDonald's prank call, was remorseful and served 5 years in prison. It's amazing to me that this man did these things that were so clearly abusive and awful...and then immediately called his friend and said "I did a bad thing". I mean, I guess it shouldn't be amazing...but to me the whole thing is mind blowing.

Compliance is a rare movie that kept me glued to my seat. Despite the fact that I read a lot about the movie before I saw it, I couldn't tear my eyes away. If the film seems exploitative, it's probably because it's about someone who was exploited. And it's an excellent example of how easily we trust (and/or fear) those who claim to have authority over us--even if they're just a voice on the phone.

4.5 out of 5 stars

All the Movies That's Fit to Print!

Movies: Side Effects, Weekend, Evil Dead


Yo! I've been ignoring this blog for a while and it's time to catch up.


Side Effects

Forgive me if I can't recall all the details of this film since it's been about two months since I've seen it. Supposedly, this is Steven Soderbergh's final film (other than his Liberace biopic for HBO). It's not a bad movie, but it's not really that amazing either. While ostensibly about the negative side effects of anti-depressants, including sleep-walking, Side Effects has more twists than a Chubby Checker single. Some of these twists are creepy and ingenious, and others are, eh, a bit overkill.

It all starts when Emily Taylor (Rooney Mara, of Dragon Tattoo fame), goes to the minimum security prison to pick up her white collar criminal husband, Martin (Channing Tatum), who has just finished serving four years for insider trading. Emily, who has a history of depression, begins to sink back into a funk as she helps her husband adjust to life outside the pen.

When Zoloft doesn't work for Emily, her psychiatrist (Jude Law, in a very strong performance) recommends a new drug, Ablixa (cleverly mimicking the ads for the real life drug Abilify), and that's when the shit hits the fan.

Side Effects clever because you're primed to think that it's a film that exploits the love/hate relationship our society has with medication: we're Americans, so we're loathe to admit we need help, especially mental help. But everyone and their brother seems to be on something--and some people don't think twice about offering a Valium or Adderall to a friend in need. However, Side Effects veers off the path of hand-wringing "social message" movie and into bat-shit crazy town pretty quickly.

3.5 out of 5 stars


Weekend

We were going to watch this film in my queer cinema class, but it got bumped out due to lack of space in the schedule. I went ahead and watched it on my own and I'm glad I did. It made me cry.

Weekend is like a more elegant, gay mumblecore movie. Nothing much happens, but it captures some of the intricacies of life and emotion really well. Two British men, Russell and Glen, meet at a gay bar. Russell takes Glen back to his place and they spend the night. What should have been a one-night stand turns into a deeper connection when the two men decide to hang out again that evening. And then Glen reveals that he's moving to America (Portland, actually!)...for two years.

Weekend is both sad and comforting. It's a familiar situation: you meet someone and connect really well, but they're on vacation, or they're moving soon, or they want to date someone else, or they just fade away. I tend to get very interested in people I meet and I feel sad if I don't get to fully know them well. But as someone who has moved a number of times throughout my life, I am aware than many relationships are temporary and few last for a lifetime. It's not about maintaining every friendship or romance you've ever experienced--it's about learning from the people you've met throughout your life. It's about the journey, you guys!! *sniff*

When Russell meets up with Glen at the train station (which will presumably take him to the airport, since you can't take a train from England to America...), it doesn't feel cliche at all. It feels heartbreaking and hopeful. Glen gives Russell a gift and when he opens it, man, my heart exploded.

Weekend isn't really a queer film--not to me anyway--although Glen and Russell discuss coming out and being gay. It's just a movie about two people who form a brief, yet intense connection...and then move on.

4.5 out of 5 stars


Evil Dead

This "remake" of the original Sam Raimi film is a pretty cut and dried horror movie. 5 friends meet in a dilapidated cabin in the woods at the request of Mia, a recovering heroin addict who wants to use the weekend to kick the habit. She's joined by her brother, her brother's girlfriend, and two college friends. When the friends discover rotting cat corpses and a book bound in human skin in the basement, they decide that the best course of action is to STAY IN THE CABIN, thus securing their fate for being stupid.

The blatant stupidity continues as the bookish friend begins to read from the human-skin book and inadvertently summons a demon who possesses Mia and makes her do a bunch of violent, crazy shit that her friends write off as an attempt to escape the cabin and avoid getting clean.

The violence is pleasantly outrageous--my favorite scene involves a chainsaw--and although some critics have claimed that Evil Dead is a comedy, the only funny parts are when Mia's brother keeps telling everyone "It's ok! It's ok!" even after fountains of blood have spurted and it's very clearly not ok.

Evil Dead is an entertaining movie, but it doesn't really have a gimmick to make it original. After seeing Tucker and Dale Versus Evil and The Cabin in the Woods, I think I'm spoiled for these types of horror movies since they seem very paint by numbers.

3 out of 5 stars

Suck the Marrow Out of Life...

Poetry: Favorites

April is National Poetry Month. Now, if you're like me, poetry bores the fuck out of you. It's pretty much just words strung together in such a way that you know there is meaning to those words...you just don't know what. If you're like me, you're a secret philistine when it comes to poetry: you know you *should* like it, the way you *should* like broccoli, but on a day-to-day basis, you tend to ignore poetry's (and broccoli's) existence.

But, as a lover of words, poetry occasionally gets to me. In college, I took a creative writing class that was half devoted to creative fiction (I was terrible at it) and half devoted to poetry. I surprised myself at how much I enjoyed writing poetry. I wrote one poem about Allen Ginsberg that contained the line, "The cocksucking youths who loitered behind the dumpsters of your work." The professor told me my writing was "sensual and intuitive". You can imagine how a compliment like that would go directly to the head of a 21 year old.

Since college I have rarely written poems, far preferring the kind of writing I'm doing now: critical non-fiction. A sort of academic-lite type writing. And, sadly, I rarely go out of my way to read poetry and seek out new poets. But the love of a perfect turn of phrase is still there, in my heart. A heart like an artichoke, weighed down by many wings*

So in honor of April, here are a few of my favorites, along with just a touch of commentary about why I like them.


***

Tornfallet
by Joseph Brodsky

There is a meadow in Sweden

where I lie smitten,

eyes stained with clouds'

white ins and outs.


And about that meadow

roams my widow

plaiting a clover

wreath for her lover.


I took her in marriage

in a granite parish.

The snow lent her whiteness,

a pine was a witness.


She'd swim in the oval

lake whose opal

mirror, framed by bracken,

felt happy, broken.


And at night the stubborn

sun of her auburn

hair shone from my pillow

at post and pillar.


Now in the distance

I hear her descant.

She sings "Blue Swallow,"

but I can't follow.


The evening shadow

robs the meadow

of width and color.

It's getting colder.


As I lie dying

here, I'm eyeing

stars. Here's Venus;

no one between us. 



Joseph Brodsky was a Russian poet who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1987 and was named United States Poet Laureate in 1991. 

I don't know, there's just something about how this poem is broken up--how he rhymes words with other words that don't rhyme perfectly. I take it to be about a man watching his wife from beyond death and feeling equal amounts of ecstatic beauty and crushing loneliness. "Here's Venus; no one between us"--suggesting the complete freedom that comes with death. You get that much closer to the universe. Yet he still can't stop thinking about his wife's red hair. Beautiful.


***

To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time
by Robert Herrick

GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may,
    Old time is still a-flying :
And this same flower that smiles to-day
    To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
    The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
    And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
    When youth and blood are warmer ;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
    Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
    And while ye may go marry :
For having lost but once your prime
    You may for ever tarry.



So basically, this poem is like: Go out there, young ladies, and find a man to have sex and babies with! Now, before you're a hag!


But putting aside the fact that Herrick was probably addressing 14 year old girls, this is a beautiful poem that was, of course, featured in that wonderful love letter to poetry and life: Dead Poets Society. Robin Williams' exhortations to his young charges to "Seize the day!", "Suck the marrow out of life!", and "Gather ye rosebuds" is the kind of advice that appeals to the very same 14 year olds Herrick was addressing. When you are young, before you've made the compromises of adult life, it's natural and good to want to run away and read poetry in a cave. Or to imagine that you will BE SOMETHING in life. CHANGE THE WORLD. Not let your heart die when you grow up.

Being an adult, with responsibilities and the freedom to do any number of things I was forbidden to do a decade ago, is the best. I wouldn't go back to high school for anything. Yet, this poem, like Dead Poets Society, captures an altruism and an innocence of a time when everything felt like a discovery. The world felt fresh.


***

The Garden of Love
by William Blake

I went to the Garden of Love,

And saw what I never had seen:

A Chapel was built in the midst,

Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut,

And Thou shalt not. writ over the door;

So I turn'd to the Garden of Love,

That so many sweet flowers bore. 

And I saw it was filled with graves,

And tomb-stones where flowers should be:

And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,

And binding with briars, my joys & desires.

If William Blake had a hammer, he would be beating you over the head with it: RELIGION DESTROYS LIFE. Religion and faith are great and beautiful, and so much poetry and art (especially older stuff, not Thomas Kincade shit) owes itself to religious belief. But once in a while, it's nice to twist the knife a bit. Blake's problem here, as I see it, is with dogmatic, nature-destroying religion. The kind that "bind[s] with briars, my joys & desires". Religion that says sex is bad, nature is bad, love is bad--the only love worth having is cold piety for the Lord. A medieval view of religion, if you will, versus the more humanistic Renaissance view.


***

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

 This is an obvious choice, but oh what a lovely poem. None of the words in this poem are long, 50 cent words, and yet they completely immerse you. "Between the woods and frozen lake"--I see that lake clear as day, don't you? "Easy wind and downy flake"--I can hear that sound when you're out in a rural area and it's snowing and you can actually hear the snow hitting the ground. "The woods are lovely, dark, and deep"--I see those woods, and they aren't scary. The look like something out of the Grimm fairy tales. It's all so simple, yet so effective.


Not to mention the line "The darkest evening of the year." If you read that literally, perhaps Frost means December 21st, the shortest day of the year and thus the darkest evening. Also, my birthday. I like the think that the reason I have a secret dark side is because I was born on the darkest day. But my dark side is as lovely and deep as Frost's woods--and there's a light, just on the other side of that frozen lake, that's part of me too.

***

Thanks for listening to my completely un-academic pontification. If you have a favorite poem, please post it below!




*Joseph Robinson wrote that.

Dance of the Damned

Movies: The Red Shoes, Fish Tank

This entry is about two films in which a character's passion for dancing is central to the plot. In one film, dancing destroys the character; in the other, it saves her.

The Red Shoes

This technicolor marvel, a clear ancestor and inspiration to Aronofsky's Black Swan, is an intense film about all-consuming passion. A young, ambitious ballerina, Vicky Page (Moira Shearer), becomes caught in the web of Boris Lermontov, the extremely demanding head of a ballet company. Lermontov promises to make Vicky a star--the prima donna ballerina of the world. But in return he demands that her entire life revolve around dance. In fact, he demands that her life be dance.


On the set of a production of The Red Shoes--a ballet based on a fairy tale by Hans Christen Anderson about a girl who falls in love with a pair of red dance shoes, only to find that she cannot remove them and the shoes force her to dance to her death, Vicky meets Julian Craster, a talented composer who Lermontov has also taken under his wing. As time goes by, the two fall in love, which is unacceptable to Lermontov. Despite his interference and attempts to thwart their relationship, Vicky and Julian are married and Vicky leaves the company...

...But The Red Shoes is not a film that shows love triumphant. In fact, it is a film that shows how two men unwittingly destroy a woman by demanding she give up her life for both of them. Julian's work doesn't allow for Vicky to dance--at least not at the level she is capable of. And though Lermontov could help Vicky blossom to full potential, he does not allow her room to follow any other passions--including romantic love.

SPOILERS AHEAD

The climax has the two men attempting to force Vicky to give up one of her passions for the other: Lermontov has offered to let her dance the lead in The Red Shoes once more, if only she will leave Julian. Julian tries to convince her to leave Lermontov's company for good and dance anywhere else. It seems as though Vicky chooses Lermontov: she walks towards the stage, visibly wracked with emotional pain. But her red shoes have another idea, and soon she is running to the balcony and throwing herself into the path of an oncoming train. A bit dramatic, yes, but emotionally effective.

/SPOILERS

Moira Shearer's performance as a woman torn between two men, both who want her body and heart completely, with no regard for the woman herself, is magnificent. Transcendent. The closeup shots of her face, covered in sweat or streaked with tears, make your heart break for her. She has, not surprisingly, an intensely physical performance, and she carries it off beautifully. Her body is less an object and more an instrument that conveys joy, agony, and insanity.

The Red Shoes is a visually stunning and emotionally intense film. In Black Swan, Natalie Portman plays a ballerina who becomes a prisoner of her own mind, with her perfectionism and hallucinations driving her to a mental breakdown. In The Red Shoes, Shearer is a prisoner of both external circumstances (Julian and Lermontov who both must have her) and her own heart.

5 out of 5 stars

Fish Tank

Andrea Arnold's film Fish Tank is equally visually beautiful and emotionally wrenching, but shows dance as an escape and a salvation for the heroine. Filmed in the slums of Essex, England, Fish Tank stars Katie Jarvis (an unknown when she was cast) as Mia, a poor 15 year old girl with an awful home life: Dad isn't in the picture, Mom is an immature drunk with boyfriends who come and go, and Sister is a a cigarette smoking, drinking 11 year old who calls Mia a "cunt". Yet, despite living in these dehumanizing conditions, Mia is a smart girl who qualifies for private boarding school and who has a secret passion...for hip-hop dancing. During the day she steals away to an abandoned apartment and dances to Nas, Ja Rule, and a bunch of other hip hop artists I'm not cool enough to know.

But Mia's life is thrown for a loop when Mom brings home a new guy, Connor (the devilishly sexy Michael Fassbender), who encourages Mia's dancing and acts half like a big brother and half like the really creepy, kinda flirty older man he is.



Fish Tank has two shocks. One you know is coming and the other you have no fucking idea. You can Wikipedia the movie is you want to spoil it, but I recommend just seeing the movie because it's an unbelievably fantastic film.

Through it all, Mia's love for dance allows her to have a focus within the chaos of her life. At the end of the film she makes a decision that potentially changes the course of her life and ends the movie on a hopeful note. Even though this decision doesn't relate directly to dancing, it's clear that this passion she has makes her realize that she is more than her used up mom and her shitty life in the projects. Hip hop dancing gives her something to hold to in less than ideal circumstances.

Fish Tank features many brave performances. Clearly, Michael Fassbender, whose performance as man who both helps a young girl and takes advantage of her, is a risk. My friend and I expressed exasperation at this film since Fassbender, being so damn attractive, is hard to hate even though he does some awful things. But it's that ambiguity--is he a good guy, or a bad guy?--that gives his performance a sense of realism. And Katie Jarvis, who was cast right off the street, has enough anger, and naivete, and passion to fill an entire tenement building.

I implore you, Readers, go out and find Fish Tank. It's not the kind of movie you see everyday.

5 out of 5 stars

My Cherie Amour

Movies: Goodbye First Love

Young love is as stupid and silly as it is hopeful and joyous. When you're 15 years old you have little to no experience coupled with raging hormones and complex, often overwhelming emotions. Rarely does anything feel right or comfortable at 15, including love.

Appropriately named director Mia Hansen-Love and wonderful young actors Lola Creton and Sebastian Urzendowsky give young love the respectful and honest portrayal it deserves in the film Goodbye First Love. Creton plays Camille and Urzendowsky plays Sullivan, two Parisian teenagers who are in the midst of a passionate relationship when Sullivan decides to drop out of high school and travel to South America for the better part of a year. Camille, at age 15, can't fathom Sullivan leaving her for such a long period of time. But Sullivan, at the wise age of 17, knows he is called to travel.



Creton and Urzendowsky play their parts with remarkable realism and empathy. Camille comes off as overbearing and mopey--sobbing at the thought of Sullivan leaving and, in the process, driving Sullivan even further away. Yet she also comes off as very sympathetic because who hasn't been through those feelings? It takes a long time to learn to let the people you care about do what they need to do without clinging to them for dear life. Hell, most adults haven't mastered it!

Sullivan's 10 months in South American turn into years, and Camille begins to move forward with her life: cutting her hair into a cute pixie and going to architecture school. Even as she begins to grow into herself, you can sense an emotional heaviness she continues to carry with her: melancholy defines Creton's lovely face. As the years go by, Camille begins a relationship with her much older professor (like, two decades plus), which makes sense despite being, in my mind, incredibly creepy. Camille clearly wants to grow up and get away from the sad-faced, crying little girl she was before. She is a sophisticated and very intelligent young woman, which makes her naturally drawn to an older, artistic man.

But as Camille's life becomes more stable, a chance encounter with Sullivan's mother brings the young man back into Camille's life--and this time it seems like Sullivan is the mopey, clinging one.

Goodbye First Love was a bit difficult for me to watch because the emotions are so real and potent without being melodramatic. I really understood Camille, with her immaturity and romantic, sensitive heart. And I felt a certain amount of anger at Sullivan who, despite being in the right about chasing after his own life, really jerks Camille around--both before he leaves and after he comes back. But neither Sullivan or Lorenz (the professor) are the center of this film. It's Camille's story and it's an uplifting, beautiful one because even as she messes up and makes questionable choices, you see her grow. The movie ends when she's about 23--still so young, with so much more to learn and with many more chances to have her heart broken and then love again. But it's beautiful because, just as Sullivan went on a physical and geographical journey, you can clearly see that Camille is on her own journey within herself.

4.5 out of 5 stars

We're All In This Together

Movies: Angels in America

In my Queer Cinema class, we're taking two class periods to watch the wonderful HBO miniseries Angels in America.

Based on Tony Kushner's Pulitzer Prize winning play, AiA is a beautiful, epic story that takes place in Reagan-era New York at the start of the AIDS crisis. One of the main characters, Prior Walter, is a gay man recently diagnosed with AIDS. His long time partner, Louis, leaves him because he (Louis) can't handle sickness. Depressed, abandoned, and sick, Prior is visited by an angel who claims that God has abandoned heaven. Although He created both angels and human, God fell deeply in love with His lesser creation--humankind--and their ability to move, travel, explore, and progress (whereas the angels sit around heaven and just have sex all the time--true story). So God leaves heaven and the angels want Prior to serve as a prophet to tell humans to "stop moving"--stop progressing, stop inventing, stop exploring. And maybe God will come back.

Still with me? Meanwhile, Roy Cohn, a real-life ultra-conservative lawyer, is trying to get his protege, squeaky-clean Mormon (and secretly gay) Joe Pitt, to take a position in Washington, DC that might help Roy fight his impending disbarment. As Joe is faced with this predicament--doing a not-so-legal favor for a mentor and friend--he finds his marriage to pill-popping, depressed housewife Harper falling apart. Also, Joe starts seeing Louis--the one who left Prior.

Oh, also Roy Cohn has AIDS. But he's calling it liver cancer because men like him--men with "clout"--don't get AIDS.

Still with me?

The fantastical aspects of the story--Harper's hallucinations and Prior's visits from angels and dead relatives--serve as metaphors for a time when AIDS was a new, terrifying disease. Whereas I was born and grew up in a world in which AIDS was an accepted reality and condom use, for my generation, was as mandatory as seat belt use--you just don't ride without one--people who were born into a world without AIDS had to come to grips with the fact that sex now had the potential to kill in a way not seen since there has been a cure for syphilis.

At first some called it the "gay plague". Gay men and drug users got AIDS in higher numbers than heterosexual people and non-users. How perfect this was for people out there constantly looking for more reasons to hate gay people. It was now God's punishment! Or nature's punishment for so-called deviancy. But as the number of AIDS victims increased and we learned more about the virus, it became clear that we were all in this together. Being straight doesn't protect you from AIDS. Sickness and disease affects all of us, even if we are not sick ourselves.

Back to Kushner's play: Angels in America has a diverse cast. Some characters are black, others are white. There are Jews and Mormons. There are gay people and straight people. There are women and men. The play and the series cast women in some male roles and almost all the main actors play one or more supporting characters as well. This casting emphasizes human interconnectedness and flexibility in gender and race.

I love this play because few pieces of art or writing capture what I feel is my outlook on life so perfectly. One message of the play is that "the world only spins forward", as Prior says. While the play most certainly vilifies Reagan-era conservative politics (and Reagan himself), I think the real demon in AiA is unwillingness to accept change and to move forward. In the play, refusing to move forward is tantamount to death, as Prior discovers. Even Roy Cohn, savior of the Right, berates Joe when he refuses to "play the game" of life (by illegally helping Roy). He says to Joe, "This is the game of being alive. You think you're above being alive? Above being alive is, what? Dead."

As difficult as change is, it's the only reality out there. There are no "good old days" and nor are there "bad old days", There are just days gone by, with good and bad aspects to them. And days to come, and what we can collectively make of them.

The message of interconnectedness is important to me as well. I've attended a number of churches on and off throughout my life (although, honestly, not venturing much beyond mainstream Protestantism. The "Frozen Chosen" as they say), and I am coming to realize that if a religion or any system of belief does not promote empathy and kindness, it is worthless to me. In fact, it is less than worthless--it's harmful. Too often, people use religion (or politics, or social beliefs) to put up barriers and mark lines between themselves and "others". And usually those "others" are the bad guys or, perhaps even worse, the Ones We Pity. The ones we pray for not because we care, but because by doing the praying we are assuring ourselves, "it's good that I'm not that person".

We want to build ourselves up. This is natural. But at the end of the day, we're all in this together. This world of violence and illness and agony--no one is spared in the end. Money can delay death, but it can't buy eternal life. Money doesn't prevent heartbreak. Money doesn't make you better than anyone else. In fact, it often makes you worse. Beauty fades, and can be ripped away in an instant. Youth inevitably goes away--unless you die young. Even relationships and friendships often come to an unwanted end.

So what stays? What is worthwhile to have? Connection. Mercy. Empathy. Love. Generosity. These things build up inside yourself and, when expressed, expand into the world. You can't heal a friend who has cancer, but you can love her. You can't always get a raise you want, or find the perfect partner, or be the perfect child--but you can cultivate a kindness and a character in yourself that no one can take away. And when no one will stand up for you, you will have the tools to stand up for yourself. This isn't something you can buy or be given by someone else.

In Angels in America, no character is perfectly good or perfectly evil. Even the villainous Roy Cohn has moments of dignity and humanity. And even the good or heroic characters screw up. I like this because this is real. People aren't monsters. Even so-called "monsters"--pedophiles, rapists, sociopaths--aren't entirely monsters. They're made of the same stuff as everyone else. And, likewise, heroes always have moments of shame and weakness. It's hard not to judge others--I do it all the time. But consider the context of another's life and history. A person can be just in their assessment of someone else while still acknowledging that person's basic humanity. And don't forget--we're all in this together. It could be you who is in need of understanding or forgiveness someday.

If you know me in real life, you know that I have kind of a mantra of sorts: "Only connect". From a passage in E.M. Forster's novel Howards End, I've used this phrase during job interview presentations and even as a handle on a dating website. Why does this phrase stick with me? I'm not the most extroverted person in the world. I've had few long-term romantic relationships, and I've most definitely had friendships fall by the wayside many times. Why should I speak for the values of connection? I just feel that there's no value in refusing to try to understand the "other". I don't see why and how a person could look at the world and see nothing but black and white, when it's so empirically clear to me that it's almost all gray area.

But we persist in building walls and in categorizing and demonizing. We forget that we aren't any better than the next guy. Or, if we are better, it's only in some specific way--and in some other way, he is better than us. Just like with the AIDS crisis, we want to see people unlike ourselves as dirty or wrong or sick on some level, but we forget that we look dirty and sick and wrong to others.

Let's forget these differences for a while. Let's remember that we're all in this together--no one's getting out alive, so we may as well help each other and care for each other as much as possible through life. Let's connect.

5 out of 5 stars

I'm Not Dead!

Hello readers!

Due to a busy time period in my life and work, I haven't had a chance to review any movies for a while. I promise I will be back soon!

In the mean time, enjoy these mini-reviews of films I've watched in a Queer Cinema class I'm taking:


The Celluloid Closet


This important documentary about homosexuality in the movies is a classic and a fascinating film. Beginning at the turn of the 20th century, The Celluloid Closet covers a time during which homosexuality was only found in subtext and "wink wink" jokes and homosexual characters were veiled or outrageously stereotyped. Films such as Rebecca, Rope, and Cruising are explored, among others.

The Celluloid Closet really deserves a sequel, since the film ends in the 1990's--specifically, with the Tom Hanks film Philadelphia. Queer cinema has come so far in the past two decades, and I would love to see a documentary exploring that.

4 out of 5 stars


***

Gods and Monsters

I saw this film, about homosexual director James Whale, when I was younger and I was a bit disturbed by it. James Whale was the director of Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein, and he was as openly gay as a man could expect to be in the first half of the 20th century (which is to say, not very open). The film details his friendship with his gardener, Clayton Boone, as Whale slips further into dementia. The relationship between the young, (presumably) straight man (played by hunk o' burning love Brendan Fraser) and the older, gay man (played by shriekingly sexy silver fox Ian McKellan) veers from lightly flirtatious to violent to gentle. In an extremely uncomfortable scene near the end (spoilers), Whale comes on to Boone strongly enough to incite a violent reaction in the young man, but Boone finds that he can't hurt his older, fragile friend. It's both touching and, as I mentioned above, disturbing.

4 out of 5 stars


***

The Rocky Horror Picture Show

Well, if I have to explain this one to you, then you clearly don't belong to the club. Rocky Horror, the king (or queen?) of cult films, is about a "sweet transvestite" from Transexual, Transylvania--a distant planet. This mad scientist, Frank N. Furter, lives with his servants in a castle and has created the perfect specimen of manhood as his lover. Two squares, Brad and Janet, end up at his castle when their car breaks down outside it. What happens during their debauched stay will change their lives...forever.

The appeal of Rocky Horror is myriad. It's got lo-budget, sci-fi cheesiness galore, polymorphous eroticism led by a lingerie-clad Tim Curry, and a cult following that includes audience participation, games, and call-backs during live screenings.

There's really nothing not to love...unless you're a square, I guess.

5 out of 5 stars


***

Born in Flames

This extremely low-budget and highly original film by Lizzie Borden (no, not that Lizzie Borden) takes place in a post-revolutionary United States. The US is now officially a socialist democracy and the news media pronounces sexism, racism, and social problems dead. Boy are they wrong. A group of women called the Women's Army, take it upon themselves to perform acts of vigilante justice and culture-jamming (basically, highjacking radio stations and painting on public walls) in order to get their message of queer/racial/female liberation out there.

Led by a cast of multiracial, queer (ish) women, this is an excellent movie to completely freak out your conservative uncle with.

3.5 out of 5 stars


***

Billy Budd

You would think a 2.5 hour long film about law and justice on a naval warship in 1797 would be boring. You'd be wrong. Billy Budd, based on the novella by Herman Melville (the dude who wrote Moby Dick) actually sucks you right into it's world.

Billy Budd has three men at its center: Captain Vere, the truth and law-loving captain of the warship Bellipotent, a handsome and very innocent and good sailor, Billy Budd, and the sadistic, evil master-at-arms, John Claggart. According to some interpretations, Claggart is a repressed gay man whose repression emerges in the form of sadism. As master-at-arms (basically, the chief of police of a ship), Claggart enjoys tormenting the sailors and meting out cruel and arbitrary punishments.

While Billy is so innocent that he sees Claggart as simply a lonely man, Claggart decides to destroy Billy by accusing him of mutiny. The last third of the film is gut-wrenching. Overall, the story is an intriguing meditation on the spirit of the law vs. the letter of the law--and which is more important.

5 out of 5 stars