Locker Demons

When I go back through old posts to figure out when and where I said stuff, I'm sure this post's title will be really helpful. But what's done is done (as I refuse to click on the field one inch above where I'm typing to simply change it).

Two short pieces of news:

1. The "Only Good Movies Blog" recently linked to my review of The Pianist in a list of films they called "75 War Movies to See Before You Die." I have no idea how they came accross my humble blog, but there you go. I'm pleased.

2. I started a new blog called "That Hideous Strength." Its purpose is to fulfill my insatiable desire to blog about politics without alienating those of you who would prefer never to think about the subject. I haven't posted in it yet, but when I do, you can put money on my letting you know.

[gonna try these new things called section breaks]

OK, I've seen two movies since my last post.

Angels and Demons was just about as good as I hoped it would be. My hopes weren't outrageously high, but I'd heard good things, such as, "It was way better than Da Vinci Code," and "I really enjoyed this one, as opposed to the first one...what was it called?" and "The Da Vinci Code sucked." The last wasn't really praise for Angels, I recognize, but I included it because as far as word-of-mouth goes, that's about as true as it gets.

I mostly hated the "first" one because it was anti-Catholic propaganda. And while I am not Catholic, I very much respect the church. And I will not tolerate film that is designed to specifically tear down a Church or any other benevolent institution. I hate it when people make and watch anti-Mormon filth, and it would therefore be hypocritical of me to endorse something like the Code.

But Angels and Demons was NOT anti-Catholic, or anti-religious. In fact, it was only with that assurance that I consented to see it. As it turns out, many of the most dignified, respectable, good people in this film are deeply, devoutly religious. The film turned out to be one of the more powerful advocates for the cooperation of religion and science that I've seen. As such, it can't help but win my respect.

But I'll put aside my feverish biases for a moment and focus instead on the quality of the film as a film, and not a piece of propaganda. As entertainment, it also far surpassed its cumbersome predecessor. The acting was better, the characters were richer, but most of all, it was paced FAR better. It wasn't and didn't need to be an adrenaline driven thriller, but it did need to be compelling, and those bones it had in spades.

The plot was servicable. I won't say anything about it because I think that the twists are half the fun. Suffice it to say that nothing really turns out to be what they set it up to be, and they pull it off rather well. If you've read the book, of course there won't be any surprises. But the film stands on its own just fine. I would know--I haven't read the book.

[see, section breaks are super-def-way cool]

Last night, I saw the best film about the war in Iraq that I've seen yet. And, I would bet, the best that's been made up to this point.

The Hurt Locker was not about the politics of the war. Not at all. It was about the war itself. Jeremy Renner played the protagonist, and did it with a style that helps men understand that they'll never be that tough. He's the real deal, the "wild man," hardcore, crazy, unstoppable. Here's his secret: he's addicted to war.

The film was powerful on many levels. On the surface, it was a gripping war movie, with all of the action and suspense any war movie merits. But the deeper you go, the sadder it gets. We all understand, at least academically, that war brings out the best and worst in men. What we don't as often consider (though we also probably understand it), is that it brings out the best and worst in every man. What the Locker shows us in its main character is a man who men instinctively wish they were. Tough, committed, capable, and instinctively generous. He's a leader, and he knows it. He doesn't have to spend time proving it, he just leads.

But he's also deeply flawed. He takes on danger not because he has to, but because he wants to. At the very beginning, the words, "war is a drug" are effectively burned into the minds of the audience. The rest of the film illustrates that principle. By the end, it's almost not about the war in Iraq at all. It's about someone we've come to love succumbing to a destructive addiction.