Monday, July 26, 2010

why M. Night Shyamalan keeps getting better

"The Last Airbender" aside, I want to offer a defense of Shyamalan. He's earned it. In the years since "The Sixth Sense," Shyamalan has directed an impressive body of work, a fact made even more impressive when we consider that many of those films were written by Shyamalan himself. But I want to go back to the film that first made audiences bow in awe before the fabled storyteller. As a master storyteller, Shyamalan has mastered the very surreal element of surprise. With regard to "The Sixth Sense," for example, we didn't sit in our theater seats wondering just how this film was going to wrap up from Bruce Willis's perspective. In fact, we didn't know what to wonder in the first place. We bore witness to a heartbreaking meld of family dynamics, mourning, friendship and love--all very carnal and perpetual elements of the lives of even the youngest of us. And that is the point. As Cole and his earnest psychologist wrestled with stained, untied and even absolutely rent threads, we weren't asked to rely on the supernatural to solve the mystery or even lend some meaning to the stories. Who hasn't experienced the loss of a loved one and wished for one last conversation, one last attempt to gain parental approval, or to make peace with a friend? What was most tear-inducing about the film, at least for me, was the scene between Cole and his mother in the car in which Cole revealed that his grandmother was so proud of her daughter, which ultimately brought peace and gratefulness to Cole's mom--and a little bit of resolution for us. The strength of the story lies not in the revelation that Bruce Willis is struggling to come to terms with the mess that he will leave behind after his death, but that we all will.

A smart filmmaker, a financially savvy one (which Shyamalan has to be, as anyone in The Industry would admit) cannot afford to become cliché. When Shyamalan followed "The Sixth Sense" with (skipping a good Mel Gibson flick) "The Village" (my personal favorite of his canon), he was criticized for the lackluster and arguably predictable ending. Admittedly, the "alternate reality" of 19th-century-Covington-Woods-within-modern-day-America was not the most complex scenario Shyamalan's imagination could have wrought; however, it withdrew a creative space in which the deeply and intrinsically human could operate--and even flourish. The farce of "Those We Don't Speak of" and the moaning sounds from the woods aren't THE EVENT in and of themselves; rather, they create the tense environment in which every action could have far-reaching consequences, and in which bravery always means to venture into the forbidden.

What Shyamalan has done is construct a supernatural aspect that has to be in proportion to the contents of the story. Cole is struggling with interactions with the dead, so the context of Malcolm Crowe's limbo is, while impossible, fitting. As are the circumstances of "The Village." To have fit a similar supernatural element to the characters of Covington Woods would have been laughable--even ridiculous. And that is the absolute beauty of Shyamalan's vision. Even in light of the farce of the red cloaks and alternate reality-esque conditions, it was Ivy and Lucius who necessitated the story's unfolding, who propelled it forward. Shyamalan seems to have a superbly crafted motif in mind behind each of his films. He moves from mourning to faith/family to love to Deep Ecology to purpose to connectedness, and yet we deny him the freedom to care about how we participate in our lives and the lives of those we touch. Shyamalan wants to ensure that we become whole and real, even if he needs to bring in fantasy and the monsters of our imaginations to pound us over the heads with our self-absorption and stuck situations. It is not Shyamalan who has lost his zeal; it is his audience that doesn't like to be challenged and grown by stories that are collectively our own. We are not more discriminating in our tastes; we are in severe denial.

Friday, July 23, 2010

the ACLU is NOT evil.

Recently I've come to understand that despite my deep affiliation with the Christian Church, I am at heart a supporter of civil liberties, and seem to have an easier time than most Christians separating my religious tendencies from what I see as the true role of government--especially a democratic one. I always plan on enduring morally by my understanding of biblical truth, but will hopefully always be able to understand the limits of a national morality--and not despair too dramatically the differences.

I am ALL for separation of Church and State.

So is THIS guy.

Lord, save us from a Christian government. 


"We do not need to get good laws to restrain bad people. We need to get good people to restrain us from bad laws." 
 G.K. Chesterton

Thursday, June 24, 2010

the fulcrum point

Not blindly the decision is made--
tentatively, but it is not necessarily
a bad one. Nor is its alternative,
but that does not matter right now.
What does matter is
this middle ground, the
conversation between right
and right.
To cover with leaves the
agony of indecision--greater than
shame.
It's unavoidable, though,
the dash between dawn and dusk,
and midday offers no sunlit clarity.
Tear off the flimsy leaves, Adam;
they do not conceal your wavering.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

when life hands you waders...

...go fly-fishing in the Manistee River! My time at Au Sable in Mancelona, Michigan proved to be some of the most healing time I've ever had. To be in such a raw and alive place was such a blessing--and a great time of refreshment. Some lessons:




There is a lot you can read in three weeks. Sometimes you even get in an
entire season of LOST! We started every morning at 7:30 with community
breakfast (and rotating dish duty) and would sometimes spend up
to nine hours in the field!




The Michigan Department of Natural Resources
has a lot lot lot to learn about the tenuous
relationships between species--especially
stupid flies and stupider caterpillars. These
things were everywhere, and sometimes when
all else was still and quiet, the only sounds to be
heard were the tiny drops of caterpillar poop
falling through the leaves. GROSS.




All of life's stresses can be solved by viewing
the world from the vantage point of the top
of a glorious dune--especially if getting to the
top involved a race. Even MORE so if you
were the winner of said race.




You will get more excited about a rose-breasted
grosbeak sighting than you ever thought possible.




The Mid-West has some remarkably ethereal
celestial occurrences.




Best friends and rivers are
a winning combination :-).

Saturday, April 24, 2010

teleology

If I could laugh every day until my stomach writhed in pain, I think I would die a deliriously happy girl.