Marcus' World

At the Movies: "No"

Last Thursday afternoon, still quite jetlagged, I watched a matinee screening of No.

It's a fictionalized account of the 1988 election in Chile that ousted Augusto Pinochet after 15 years of autocratic rule.  Pinochet only called the election due to international pressure, without believing he would lose.  Thanks to a clever advertising campaign that gave Chileans a sense of optimism again--or so the story goes in the film--Pinochet loses the election, shocking Chile and the world. 

The critics have been kind. On the other hand, many people who were involved in the campaign against Pinochet have objected strongly that the film is riddled with errors and simplifications.

I don't know, wasn't there.  In 1988 I thought chili was something you ate.

Times have changed.  In 2013, as the person responsible for library and instructional technology at Samuel Merritt University, watching this film was fascinating.  The activists opposed to Pinochet debate fiercely about means vs. ends, and I've been part of many formulations of this age-old debate. 

The debate in No runs thusly: "Sure, catchy ad jingles are cute and everything.  But people are dying on the streets of Santiago, this is no laughing matter."  "Do you want to win this thing or not? You have to make people happy to get them to pay attention."  And so on, and so forth.  Insert whatever specifics you know about the unresolved tensions in your workplace, and No will resonate. 

Had I seen this in 1988, while eating my chili, I would have sided wholely with the idealists.  Back then (at the ripe old age of 11) fashion was shallow and advertising was evil.  In college, I was already much more pragmatic...taking the advertising man's point of view during a similar debate in a social justice course. 

When I became a librarian, my zeal for open access was initially idealistic all the way--who cares about tenure and rewards?? Information should be free!! I still think that's true, but have accepted that tenure/rewards are here to stay. The name of the game is to change the reward system rather than shouting from the soapbox. I still like my line from that college debate: "Do you want to make noise or do want to make change?"

So yes. Go see No.

At the Movies: "Lincoln" and Leadership

We enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving with family near Phoenix last week, as well as a visit with more family in Las Vegas just before that.  This was our third drive to the great Southwest in a little more than two years, prompting our newfound resolve to fly next time.  That said, I'm always intrigued by the water war signage along I-5 and the stark beauty of large stretches of I-10.

Last Saturday, after Ohio State had beaten Michigan and Northwestern had bested Illinois, we were at the movies to watch Lincoln. As advertised, Daniel Day-Lewis is amazing in his characterization of our 16th President. Go see it as soon as you can.

The film focuses on Lincoln's fierce effort to pass the 13th Amendment, banning slavery, at the beginning of 1865. The bloody Civil War is concluding and the Union is winning.  But if it concludes with slavery still allowed in the South, though, Lincoln knows that slavery will not end for a long time to come.  So he moves quickly to bring the 13th Amendment, which had already passed the Senate the year before, to the House floor. Whereas the Emancipation Proclamation was actually a military ploy to get freed slaves in border states into the Union army, this is the real deal.

To get there Lincoln cajoles his reluctant Cabinet to support him. He allows skullduggery and horse-trading in exchange for Congressional votes, and even visits the rapscallions who are lining up those votes. Apropos of nothing he tells charming stories. He argues fiercely with Mrs. Lincoln about whether their son Robert should be allowed to fight for the Union.  He retreats into himself repeatedly, only to emerge with great lucidity when a decisive moment is at hand.

He wins passage of the 13th Amendment on Jan. 31, 1865 and secures peace at Appomattox a few months later. He is killed in April of that same year.

Many commentators, such as an anoymous scribe in The Economist, have noted the parallels between Lincoln (here at the start of his second term) and our own President Obama (who is about to begin his own new term.) President Obama needs to master the cold arts of presidential leadership just as well as Lincoln did, if he wants to secure a commensurate legacy. Our idealists must accept and even embrace their Machavellian selves. It's never easy, as Lincoln attests.  But then and now the ends justify the means.

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NB: Obama has a Secret Service to prevent assassination, unlike Lincoln. The Secret Service was created months after Lincoln's death. 

At the Movies: "The Master"

Last night we went to Oakland's magnificent Grand Lake Theater for a screening of Paul Thomas Anderson's film The Master.  Anderson's previous work includes There Will Be Blood, and David Thomson panned this effort under the awesome headline "There Will be Dud."  But Thomson's is a rare voice of critical dissent; with a Metacritic score of 85%, The Master is riding high.

We counted ourselves among the fans. Set in the early 1950s, The Master tells the story of Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix), a troubled WWII veteran who finds himself under the spell of Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman).  Dodd heads The Cause, a cult that practices analysis of past lives as a means of bringing forth the "future perfect." This is all charlatanism, as Dodd reveals by his boorish and profane behavior whenever challenged.  Freddie serves as his enforcer and goon, the muscle-man who squelches any resistance.  He does this despite Dodd's humiliating engagement of Freddie in numerous "experiments," or Dodd's money-laundering that leads to an arrest by the Philadelphia police. 

Dodd's wife Peggy (Amy Adams) argues that Freddie--a helpless alcoholic--is a blight on The Cause, and asks Dodd to push him away.  But Dodd is magnetically drawn to Freddie, even tracking him down from England after Freddie escapes Dodd's clutches and returns to his hometown. Pi Wen noted the co-dependency; Freddie needs Dodd, but Dodd--the ostensible Master--needs Freddie just as much. Freddie becomes the son who likes his father, unlike Dodd's biological son Val (Jesse Plemons).  Val knows his father is a fraud, making it up as he goes along.

Dodd's charlatanism is obvious, but not always to himself.  He is trapped within the myths of his own devising, far less a master than he claims to be.  As Dodd tells Freddie at the end, "If you ever figure out how to be your own master tell us will you? That will be the first time in human history."  This is a rare and piercing moment of self-awareness, offered just before Dodd slips back inside his self-created jail.

At the Movies: "Midnight in Paris"

Woody Allen--whom I knew in my New York days as a clarinetist who performed concerts at prices too rich for my blood--is in fine fettle with his latest film Midnight in Paris.  Pi Wen and I like it so much we saw it twice! Although, to be honest, the second time was because we had to use a 2-for-1 movie ticket from LivingSocial before it expired. Online daily deals are growing like kudzu, and they bring their own headaches.

Then again, we could have used the 2-for-1 ticket on other movies, since we'd already seen Midnight.  But no Source Code or Thor for us! Give us Woody, especially when he offers a love letter to Paris. 

Owen Wilson plays Gil Pender, an aspiring novelist/current screenwriter on a vacation in Paris with his fiancee Inez (Rachel McAdams).  Their relationship is weak and flat, which is obvious to everyone but Gil.  On a walk one night Gil slips through a wrinkle in time and finds himself transported to 1920s Paris, at a dinner party where Cole Porter sings his own songs and F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald keep him company.

Now that's cool. Gil attempts to transport Inez to this paradise the next night, but it turns out the time wrinkle only unravels at the stroke of midnight; Inez had already gone home.  Eventually Gil is making excuses to leave around midnight every night, ostensibly to gather his thoughts for his novel.  Really it's in order to have his manuscript critiqued by Gertrude Stein and to fall in love with Picasso's fetching mistress Adriana. But it doesn't hurt that 1920s Paris is Gil's favorite historical era.

Midnight reminded me of Zelig, Allen's 1983 film about a man who could change his appearance to resemble whomever he was near.  (I saw Zelig growing up in Columbus, Ohio, on the late night movie series hosted by Fritz the Night Owl on Channel 10.) In Zelig F. Scott Fitzgerald also appears, and the ability to change one's appearance on a moment's notice is as fantastical as the opportunity to slide through time. In both cases Allen is playing to our desire to change our given circumstances, with the belief that just one little tweak will bring happiness.

Of course, it doesn't.  Towards the end of Midnight Gil and Adriana slip through time again, back to the 1890s and the Belle Epoque.  Turns out that this is Adriana's favorite period; for her, the present-day 1920s are boring although they are fantastic from Gil's 2010 perspective.  And so it goes. In theory, everyone could keep hopskotching through time forever, always seeking the era that's just so. But eventually the cares of the world would intervene whenever you live.  So you might as well make the best with whatever time you're born into.

And that's just what Gil does.  SPOILER ALERT!!:  At the end of the film Gil finally accepts that he and Inez are not right for each other, and decides to make his home in Paris.  And in present day Paris to boot.

At the Movies: "Blue Valentine"

Now that Oscar season is upon us, I'm in my usual rush to see many movies.  True Grit? Cool. The Fighter? Interesting. And Blue Valentine?  Absolutely brilliant.

The film premiered at Sundance last year, after a many years journey to raise sufficient cash.  That indie cred shines through in a story that is honest, often funny, and ultimately deeply sad.  There is no way to soften the pain of watching young love fade. 

Michelle Williams plays Cindy and Ryan Gosling plays Dean, two working-class kids who meet by chance and fall in love.  When they meet Dean works for a moving company and takes extra care to make an older man named Walter feel at home when he moves Walter to a nursing home.  In the kindest gesture Dean carefully displays Walter's matchbox collection on one wall of the small room.  Turns out that Cindy's grandmother is living in a room across the hall, and Cindy is visiting as Dean is chatting with Walter.  The two meet and some sparks fly.  They bump into each other randomly again a few months later, and this time the relationship takes off.

But there were always big challenges.  Dean never graduated from high school, a fact Cindy's father draws out when Dean first meets her family.  And Cindy--although she is self-directed and eventually becomes a nurse--becomes pregnant as a teenager (not from Dean, it was before they were together) and has to choose between abortion or becoming a mother.  She almost has the abortion--Dean takes her to the clinic--but decides to have her daughter Frankie.  Dean helps Cindy raise Frankie and treats her as his own daughter. They get married at city hall.

Things unravel as time goes on.  Cindy stays focused while Dean starts drinking, never having steady jobs or finding a creative outlet for his musical gifts. Eventually Dean arranges a romantic tryst that he hopes will jumpstart the marriage, even though it's at a cheesy sex motel and Cindy doesn't want to go.  But the night goes terribly; for one thing, it becomes clear that Dean wants a child of his own even though he and Cindy don't have the money. Cindy has to leave in the middle of the night because she's on call at her clinic, a fact that enrages Dean when he wakes up.  He gets back home and becomes even more belligerent than he was already, and the circle grows more vicious from there.

Very depressing, I know.  But also true, vivid, and real.  Gosling and Williams are both amazing; we know that Dean and Cindy loved each other deeply once, and we know that the memory of the happy days are no longer enough. There is never a false note between them, and all the threads of the story connect. 

Back to Dean and Walter. I loved Dean's great attention to Walter because it shows his caring nature.  And after all, this is a man who had no trouble raising a child who wasn't his.  His eventual drunken rages would be tough to take in any case, but are especially hard here because we know the decency Dean is capable of. Now there's a cautionary tale for all of us. The best movies don't make things easy for us. They make us better.

Pi Wen at the Polls

Today was election day, and I voted from inside the Bay Area bubble.  Looks like we're sending Barbara Boxer back to Washington and Meg Whitman back to her mansion.  Prop 19 is failing, even though pot is less toxic than tobacco and less intoxicating on the road than alcohol.  But, mercifully, Prop 23--which would have gutted California's environmental protections--is failing too.

This morning Pi Wen accompanied me to my polling place, a few blocks away from the apartment. I'd described to her how the Alameda County ballots required completing the arrow next to your selections.  This year was more complicated, with the introduction of ranked choice voting that allows voters to select their top three choices rather than just one.  But still you mark the arrows.

I walked into the polling place, signed my name, received my ballots, and went to my private voting station to make my selections.  Or at least, I thought it was private.  Turns out that Pi Wen--who has never voted in an election--followed me right to my station!  My sanctuary was invaded. :)  I thought it was hilarious, and gently chastised her for being so bold.  But Pi Wen only wanted to see what the fuss was about, and I had made a big fuss by bringing the state and county voters guide with me to show my preparedness (which I never looked at once). It really didn't matter to me that she saw my vote, and I attempted to offer pithy explanations of my seemingly wise selections.

I never knew "going to the polls together" would be so literal, but I liked it!

"Breakfast at Tiffany's" at the Cerrito Theater

Last night I solved two problems at once: a gap in my cultural knowledge since I'd never seen Breakfast at Tiffany's, and a lacuna in my local film house awareness since I'd never seen a movie at the Cerrito Theater.  It's an art deco theater in El Cerrito, with a long history. The Cerrito briefly closed last year, but loyal fans brought it back.  You can have full meals, not just wildly overpriced popcorn (although that's available too.) 

So there we were, enjoying a veggie pizza, chicken and prosciutto sandwich, sweet potato fries, and side salad.  As we consumed this repast Audrey Hepburn and George Peppard enacted their strange and rather sad love affair.  Hepburn is prostitute Holly Golightly and Peppard is writer/male prostitute Paul Varjak.  Mickey Rooney plays Holly's horribly stereotypical Japanese neighbor Mr. Yunioshi.  

The movie appeared in 1961, and is relatively faithful to Truman Capote's 1958 novella.  (A.H. Weiler's Times review of the film's debut is a delight to read. Who knew that live shows prior to movies once featured the New York Naval Shipyard Choir and the Rockettes?)  I found myself missing New York City all over again, especially since most of the action takes place on the Upper East Side.  At least, it seemed like the UES--and Weiler's review confirms that we're looking at a brownstone in the East Seventies.  The street address is 171 East, between 3rd and Lex.  That means Holly lives close to the subway, but she always takes cabs and often finds her way to Tiffany's.

What to make of Holly?  Her real name is Lulamae Barnes, but she left home in Texas long ago.  Part of me admires that sense of adventure, but mostly I'm turned off by her liaisons with various rich and lonely men.   Paul is poor and lonely too, but at least he's published a book that's housed in the New York Public Library.  (Alas, Holly finds the library less captivating than Tiffany's.)  He really has no rational reason to be attracted to Holly, but love isn't rational.  Holly is radiant despite her easy disposal of people (and her unwitting participation in drug trafficking for her benefactor Sally Tomato), and maybe that's what Paul likes about her.

The ending is predictably Hollywood; the two fall in love, when Holly decides not to run off to Brazil on yet another adventure (she'd been pining hopes on marrying a Brazilian millionaire.)  Holly finally realizes that money can't buy love.  But the sad truth is that isn't the kind of realization she's be likely to have, except in the movies.

Being John Malcovich, The Lord of the Rings, and Tuck Everlasting

This week I finally saw Being John Malcovich, one of many "must-see" "cult classic" films I've managed to avoid.  As ever, I thank the United Artists Theater on Shattuck for their flashback flicks each Thursday.

Anyone who still hasn't seen it can easily find a way to do so, or at least read about the plot online.  Suffice it to say that an amazing number of people are willing to pay $200 for the experience of 15 minutes within the head of John Malcovich.  He brushes his teeth, you see it.  He moves other parts of his anatomy, you see that too.  Etc.  Malcovich plays himself, and John Cusack plays a puppeteer who eventually invades Malcovich entirely.  There's a lot more to it than this, but I'm being skimpy on plot so I don't spoil it.

BJM reminded me of both The Lord of the Rings and Tuck Everlasting.  I read Lord avidly as a kid, most often in the upstairs bedroom at my dad's house on the south side of Columbus (he was a fan of the series too.)  As you'll recall, the Ring has the power to make its wearer invisible.  So the ring-wearer has access to the world that nobody else has.  This is intoxicating at first, but ultimately destructive because nobody should have the ability to violate the natural order like this.  It is too much power to be managed well.

Tuck Everlasting is a great children's book.  I read the entire thing in one day in seventh grade, pausing only to eat and get in the car when the family drove to see a movie.  (I watched the movie, but only because it was too dark to keep on reading.)  The Tuck family lives forever, which at first seems magical to ten year old Winnie Foster.   But as she grows to know and love the Tucks, Winnie realizes that death (as painful as it is for those left behind) is a necessary part of the circle of life.  It's the final part of that circle, and knowing that the end will come can serve as an impetus to live the kindest and best life we can today. 

Once again, we shouldn't try to surmount the natural order.

Likewise with Malcovich--as much as we sometimes want to know what makes others "tick,"  we really shouldn't have direct access to another person's brain.  And yet, it would be very hard to resist if the possibility presents itself...just like being invisible...and just like being immortal.  All of that seems liberating but would ultimately be enslaving.  And in the case of Malcovich's head, after people get their 15 minutes they are rudely dropped in the grass beside the New Jersey Turnpike anyway.  That's no fun at all.

At the Movies: "Trainspotting"

One of the small but mighty pleasures of living in Berkeley are the $5 "flashback flicks" that play at the United Artists Theater every Thursday.  Tonight I made it to see Trainspotting for the first time, merely 14 years after it was released. Danny Boyle--later of Slumdog Millionaire fame--directed the film.

It's about heroin addicts and con artists on the margins of Edinburgh society.  Ewan McGregor plays Mark Renton, leader of a gang of misfit "mates."  There is gallows humor aplenty, as well as true tragedy (a baby girl dies because all of her caretakers are so high they forget about her.)  And one of the few friends in the circle who wasn't on heroin eventually succumbs to its lure.

Renton tries several times to put his past behind him, at one point even moving to London to work for a property management firm.  But some of his mates follow, and he eventually gets sucked back into the madness.

This reminded me of my dad, who has battled his own drug of choice (alcohol) for many years.  The hardest part seems to be leaving the old friends, even more than breaking the habit.  But temptation lurks whenever those friends are around.  

So when that evidence of his past comes knocking on Renton's London door, I had a sinking feeling(so did Renton.)  Even though I'd never seen Trainspotting until tonight, I've seen this particular drama before.

At the Movies: "Small Change"

The Red Vic is an SF treasure, where today I saw Francoise Truffaut's classic 1976 film Small Change, about the lives of a group of children in the quaint French village of Thiers.  Thiers is a very cozy village where the main attraction is for everyone to gather every week at the movie house, and where the kids wander safely alone.  Small Change was among the first movies the Red Vic showed when it opened 30 years ago, and as part of the 30th anniversary celebration they showed a new print of the film.

As Vincent Canby noted upon the film's premiere in 1976, and as Mark Pfeiffer echoed in 2005, the great strength of this film is that it shows children as children and not as miniature adults.   The scenes just tumble out.  For example: there's a terrifying sequence in which a very young boy crawls out a window ledge in search of the cat he's let loose, only to fall (safely) many stories to the ground.  (Thank goodness he falls on grass and not cement.)  There are many humorous courtship moments, such as the first kiss between two teenagers at summer camp.  And there's sadness, particularly around the plight of a troubled child who is physically abused by his family.

Through it all there is childhood--the need to tell dirty jokes even if you don't fully understand them; buying roses to give to an adult woman, without thinking that she'll figure they came from your father; playfulness just for the sake of it. The film doesn't really have a plot, opting for gentle gazing on the exploits at hand. In some ways the 2008 French film The Class evokes Small Change, but The Class focuses much more on the concerns of the teachers (including a small but hilarious scene in which a teacher is lobbying for a new coffeemaker in the staff lounge.)  In Small Change the kids rule.

The child-friendly focus is refreshing, but occasionally schmaltzy.  Towards the end of the film a teacher gives a speech in which he argues for children to have the right to vote--the logic is that this will force politicians to pay attention to children's issues.  Really?  Yes, the kids are smart and know more than adults think or want to admit.  But as the movie shows, many adults love children even if they find them exasperating.  Adults need to take care of kids, and kids don't need to go to the ballot box just yet.  We should let them be kids for a while, so that we can have more films like Small Change.