As I said in the last post, The Secret of Roan Inish is my favorite "take heart!" movie, ever. I thought of putting a photo of little Fiona looking out the window, on my desktop, to remind me to be single-minded and childlike. (It seems to work for a lot of things. I'll get back to you on that one.)
One reason Gess and I decided to call these "movies for life" is because snippets of them play through our daily ups and downs: we find ourselves repeating lines; asking, for example, "What would Fiona do?"--and so on. So I'll set the scene for this film with an image: Fiona is patiently lighting a fire on her first trip to the island, using two flinty rocks and some twirly dry moss.
There are two movies that have tinder-lighting images in them that remind me to take heart when I am overwhelmed. One is, in fact, The Edge, though I didn't mention it, in those posts: Charles Morse builds a fire. The other is The Secret of Roan Inish.
To back up: Fiona makes several trips to the Island of the Seals, and hangs out there by herself, while her uncle and her cousin are delivering mail or setting (crab? lobster?) traps, as the case may be. Never mind that no one in the family's "set foot" on this place of bad memories since "the evacuation"; they seem willing to let the little girl knock about there for half a day or so, while they go about their business. Everyone's got a lot of nostalgia--more algia than nost, as it were--for the place, so maybe they were just waiting to be asked.
Fiona's undaunted by the state of disrepair in which she finds the three cottages. Evidently, when she was younger, she lived in one of them. She pokes around. On the second trip, she heads straight for the one that appears to be inhabited. Sure enough, there's kindling lying about, and all she has to do to build a fire is bump a couple rocks together a few times with her chubby hands. A spark flies; the tinder flares; a fire is built. She curls up for a nap, and has a vision that's more important to the plot than the fire is; however, it's the fire that sticks with me: tiny twigs burning and crisping, lighting other tiny twigs....
Perhaps it's the fact that my life seems to keep returning to 'Start,' that makes this image, and its sister image in The Edge (when the men resign themselves to their fate, and gather crisp moss to start their fire) so powerful. Nowadays, when I'm faced with startup woes, startup resistance, startup angst--I see a spark fly and a fire light. It reminds me that home fires are built one crackling twig at a time.
Tink is at work.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Hurry Up to Grow Up
At the beginning of ATL, Rashad shares something his father used to tell him. "Dreaming is the luxury of children. I should enjoy it." But when Rashad's parents die in a car accident, Rashad's own childhood ends, and he forgets his father's advice.
When we met Rashad, he is dealing with school by day and cleaning offices and stores with his uncle by night. He is also trying to watch out for his younger brother Ant. Rashad is saving his meager wages for Ant's future. He plans to send Ant to college with what he is saving.
At the same time, Rashad is forced to remain a child. He must heed his uncle's rules at home. He must attend school and do well. He is not grown yet.
Rashad's brother Ant doesn't seem to have heard his father's wisdom. He isn't waiting for some undefined future. He is eager to be grown. He wants to get his and now. To Ant, that means getting paid and getting laid. In the early part of the film, Ant approaches several girls and women with no luck. And in one daydream sequence, he swims after floating bills in a pool. He resorts to selling for a drug dealer. It gets him the girls (at least one that we see), but not much money. He gets arrested. And worse, when he doesn't have enough to pay his boss, he gets shot. His rush out of childhood comes at a high cost. In the end, he backpedals to regular teenage life.
Another character in the film who doesn't know Rashad's father's good advice is New New, aka Erin. She is Rashad's pretty, mysterious girlfriend. No one has told New New about childhood and dreaming. She is eager to define herself on her own terms. But she is subject to her parents' terms. She lives two opposing lifestyles at once: upper class glamor with her parents, ghetto fabulousity with her friends. She attends the private academy of her parents' choosing, but plans to attend a Historically Black College or University of her choice instead of the Ivy League school of their choice. She tries to live the "black" heritage her parents now deny. (Though glimpses of her parent's backgrounds seep through. In a heated discussion with Erin, her father yells, "Keep talking to your mother like that and your lips are going to beat you to the hospital!") Eventually, New New's façade of urban culture is revealed and removed. It nearly costs Rashad's love.
Remember your teenage self. How often did you ache to be older, grown, making your own choices? What were your plans? Who were you going to be as an adult? What job were you going to have? Where were you going to live?
Odds are that few, if any, of your plans and dreams came true. It's more likely that you have wished, on occasion, to not be grown just yet. To have your basic needs and more met through no stress, worry, or effort on your part for a day or two. Of course, you can't go back again. But you can remember those days with more fondness than when you were living them. After all, they have made you who you are today.
When we met Rashad, he is dealing with school by day and cleaning offices and stores with his uncle by night. He is also trying to watch out for his younger brother Ant. Rashad is saving his meager wages for Ant's future. He plans to send Ant to college with what he is saving.
At the same time, Rashad is forced to remain a child. He must heed his uncle's rules at home. He must attend school and do well. He is not grown yet.
Rashad's brother Ant doesn't seem to have heard his father's wisdom. He isn't waiting for some undefined future. He is eager to be grown. He wants to get his and now. To Ant, that means getting paid and getting laid. In the early part of the film, Ant approaches several girls and women with no luck. And in one daydream sequence, he swims after floating bills in a pool. He resorts to selling for a drug dealer. It gets him the girls (at least one that we see), but not much money. He gets arrested. And worse, when he doesn't have enough to pay his boss, he gets shot. His rush out of childhood comes at a high cost. In the end, he backpedals to regular teenage life.
Another character in the film who doesn't know Rashad's father's good advice is New New, aka Erin. She is Rashad's pretty, mysterious girlfriend. No one has told New New about childhood and dreaming. She is eager to define herself on her own terms. But she is subject to her parents' terms. She lives two opposing lifestyles at once: upper class glamor with her parents, ghetto fabulousity with her friends. She attends the private academy of her parents' choosing, but plans to attend a Historically Black College or University of her choice instead of the Ivy League school of their choice. She tries to live the "black" heritage her parents now deny. (Though glimpses of her parent's backgrounds seep through. In a heated discussion with Erin, her father yells, "Keep talking to your mother like that and your lips are going to beat you to the hospital!") Eventually, New New's façade of urban culture is revealed and removed. It nearly costs Rashad's love.
Remember your teenage self. How often did you ache to be older, grown, making your own choices? What were your plans? Who were you going to be as an adult? What job were you going to have? Where were you going to live?
Odds are that few, if any, of your plans and dreams came true. It's more likely that you have wished, on occasion, to not be grown just yet. To have your basic needs and more met through no stress, worry, or effort on your part for a day or two. Of course, you can't go back again. But you can remember those days with more fondness than when you were living them. After all, they have made you who you are today.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Living with a Passion
As I said before, Rashad and his friends have worries. They are on the verge of adulthood, and already they are dealing with younger siblings, menial jobs, and an uncertain future. And of course, there are relationship problems, between them and with others (girls, mentors, family). Their one release, and the one passion they share, is skating at Cascade on Sunday nights.
Cascade is a skating rink of a style not very far past that nevertheless many consider bygone. On Sunday nights, it's the place for the teenagers of ATL to be. As Rashad himself shares in an innocent voice over, inside Cascade, "it's like all our problems don't exist. Only place where we all felt like we could be free... School sucks. Rent past due. Your girl left you. On Sunday night, none of that count. You could be whoever you wanted to be."
Skating is their passion. Cascade is the place to be. Especially for Rashad, who explains that even when the rink is full to bursting on Sunday nights, sometimes he feels "like I was out there all by myself floating above it all. No lies. No pain. And no worries about what tomorrow might bring."
That's exactly what a passion should do for you: make you feel like you're all by yourself, floating above all your worries.
What's your passion? I know you have one. Everyone does. It's the thing you're always thinking about, always want to be doing. When you're engaged in it, the whole rest of the world fades away, and the hours pass swiftly. It may be knitting blankets for patients at a children's hospital, or planting in your victory garden. It could be reading all of Jane Austen's works, or restoring vintage muscle cars. What is it?
Have you made time for your passion lately? Are you living it, or putting it off? Daydreaming about it, or acting on it? (If you're not living your passion, maybe a five-week plan will help you make time for it.)
I'm not going to waste time telling you that life is short, and you can sleep when you're dead. I'm only going to say, live your passion. Make time to engage in it. And in those minutes, let all your cares fall away.
A lot of things in life are complicated. But this little lesson is not. Do what you must and what you are passionate about. That way, you'll be a happier you.
Cascade is a skating rink of a style not very far past that nevertheless many consider bygone. On Sunday nights, it's the place for the teenagers of ATL to be. As Rashad himself shares in an innocent voice over, inside Cascade, "it's like all our problems don't exist. Only place where we all felt like we could be free... School sucks. Rent past due. Your girl left you. On Sunday night, none of that count. You could be whoever you wanted to be."
Skating is their passion. Cascade is the place to be. Especially for Rashad, who explains that even when the rink is full to bursting on Sunday nights, sometimes he feels "like I was out there all by myself floating above it all. No lies. No pain. And no worries about what tomorrow might bring."
That's exactly what a passion should do for you: make you feel like you're all by yourself, floating above all your worries.
What's your passion? I know you have one. Everyone does. It's the thing you're always thinking about, always want to be doing. When you're engaged in it, the whole rest of the world fades away, and the hours pass swiftly. It may be knitting blankets for patients at a children's hospital, or planting in your victory garden. It could be reading all of Jane Austen's works, or restoring vintage muscle cars. What is it?
Have you made time for your passion lately? Are you living it, or putting it off? Daydreaming about it, or acting on it? (If you're not living your passion, maybe a five-week plan will help you make time for it.)
I'm not going to waste time telling you that life is short, and you can sleep when you're dead. I'm only going to say, live your passion. Make time to engage in it. And in those minutes, let all your cares fall away.
A lot of things in life are complicated. But this little lesson is not. Do what you must and what you are passionate about. That way, you'll be a happier you.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
New Movie! The Secret of Roan Inish
They say the Irish are storytellers, and this is the story of how a plucky little Irish girl reclaims her heritage after being treated to a series of them--stories, that is--told to her by various relatives on her visit back to rural Ireland. Apparently, Fiona Coneelly is island stock. Her aunt and uncle are renting a cottage with a view out its windows of the land that the Coneellys left, years back, but still own. Fiona's sent to stay with them, and she starts right in asking about the island.
The Secret of Roan Inish is a bit hard to get into, at first. The plot advances a bit slowly; the editing's a bit stiff; the Irish English, a bit, well, impenetrable. I discovered it before I had the luxury of turning on subtitles, and I taught myself its lines, by, well, you know, watching it over and over. Once I'd seen the film enough times that I could understand what the characters were saying, I could pretty much say it along with them, and so many of their lines stuck in my head, in the brogue in which they were delivered.
The Secret of Roan Inish is taken from a children's story. It's magic realism, I guess they'd say; the real-life tale is interspersed with fanciful chapters of the family's history, which appears to be all tied up with the local seals--I do not mean Navy, here!--thanks to the fact that, back generations ago, the Coneellys apparently mixed blood with a Selkie woman. Their mainland neighbors whisper about it, still, making the family wish it could just go back and live on Seal Island (that's what Roan Inish means). Fiona's the catalyst, but first she has to grok the present-day environment; she's spent the last few years living in Dublin with her alcoholic father who's a factory worker, there. They own some pretty cool real estate, for peasant folk. If I owned an island, I'd rattle the cage about it, too; I would!
This is my favorite encouragement film. Fiona's the 'little engine that could,' and in the end she makes things happen. Many of the quotes occur to me “in times of trouble,” and, though I take issue with more details in this story than in the others I’ve reported so far, I love it all the more for what I perceive to be its flaws. (Why does your uncle drop you off on the island the first time you ask him to, when no one else—neither adult nor child—is allowed to go there? Why is your uncle so willing to launch into a maudlin tale about the day the family evacuated the island, right after he declares his reluctance to speak of those events? Why are the little boy’s footprints bigger than his sister’s hand? And so on.)
I’ll attempt the usual five (more) posts about Roan Inish:
1. Arrival, Setting the Scene
2. Fiona’s Heritage
5. Forced Into Action
It’s a sweet film, I think you’ll like it as much as I do!
The Secret of Roan Inish is a bit hard to get into, at first. The plot advances a bit slowly; the editing's a bit stiff; the Irish English, a bit, well, impenetrable. I discovered it before I had the luxury of turning on subtitles, and I taught myself its lines, by, well, you know, watching it over and over. Once I'd seen the film enough times that I could understand what the characters were saying, I could pretty much say it along with them, and so many of their lines stuck in my head, in the brogue in which they were delivered.
The Secret of Roan Inish is taken from a children's story. It's magic realism, I guess they'd say; the real-life tale is interspersed with fanciful chapters of the family's history, which appears to be all tied up with the local seals--I do not mean Navy, here!--thanks to the fact that, back generations ago, the Coneellys apparently mixed blood with a Selkie woman. Their mainland neighbors whisper about it, still, making the family wish it could just go back and live on Seal Island (that's what Roan Inish means). Fiona's the catalyst, but first she has to grok the present-day environment; she's spent the last few years living in Dublin with her alcoholic father who's a factory worker, there. They own some pretty cool real estate, for peasant folk. If I owned an island, I'd rattle the cage about it, too; I would!
This is my favorite encouragement film. Fiona's the 'little engine that could,' and in the end she makes things happen. Many of the quotes occur to me “in times of trouble,” and, though I take issue with more details in this story than in the others I’ve reported so far, I love it all the more for what I perceive to be its flaws. (Why does your uncle drop you off on the island the first time you ask him to, when no one else—neither adult nor child—is allowed to go there? Why is your uncle so willing to launch into a maudlin tale about the day the family evacuated the island, right after he declares his reluctance to speak of those events? Why are the little boy’s footprints bigger than his sister’s hand? And so on.)
I’ll attempt the usual five (more) posts about Roan Inish:
1. Arrival, Setting the Scene
2. Fiona’s Heritage
3. A Plan is Hatched
4. Life Goes On5. Forced Into Action
It’s a sweet film, I think you’ll like it as much as I do!
Sunday, January 30, 2011
The Edge: The Accidental Victor
Something came unravelled when I brought Elle MacPherson's character into such sharp focus in the Faithless Trophy Wife post. I realized how shallow she was, and then I saw why she had to be. The film is not cleverly spare; it is willfully simple-minded. Or, is it? Let's say it is. Let’s say that, to the extent that Mamet draws these characters simply, consistently, he reveals less about the human condition than about himself, his prejudices. It's not that the world of men is like that; it's that Mamet wants it to be like that.
If we decide to question the premise, Hopkins' contribution to the film becomes all the more striking. In his portrayal of Morse and Morse's interactions with the other underdeveloped people, Hopkins treats Mamet's characters with more respect than Mamet does?! I'm breaking new ground, here. It is exhilerating. I guess that’s why we do these, Gess and I. I wish I could see the original screenplay from which this was taken. Suddenly, the ending makes sense to me, where it never has, before:
Charles Morse is finally rescued, and they clamor around him on the dock. The Faithless Trophy Wife stands apart, abashed, her mind a tangle of conflicting emotions. She watches as they unload Bob’s shrouded corpse from the ’copter. Morse is making his way through the throng. First, he passes the innkeeper. Morse turns, gives him a long look, and speaks in reprise: “Why is the rabbit unafraid?” he reminds him.
A look of understanding passes between the two men, and Jenkins grins a crooked, scarfaced grin. “Hmp! Because he’s smarter than the panther!”
Morse, the humble victor, arrives before his spoils. He presses her dead lover’s watch into her palm—a watch with an inscription that belies her faithlessness—in a gesture that makes clear his knowledge of the transgression. She looks down in surprise. Her face collapses.
Gently, now, having dealt this blow, Morse raises a grimy hand against a barrage of reporters’ questions. “We are all put to the test.” He stops. “…but it never comes in the form, or at the…point…we would prefer. Does it?”
“Mr. Morse,” another interjects, “The other men. Your friends.” It is a question.
“My friends,” Morse repeats, without inflection.
“What happened to them, sir?”
Silence.
“How did they die, sir?” prods a female reporter.
“They died,” says Morse, huskily, “saving my life.”
There’s a moment, like Rutger Hauer’s final moment in Bladerunner, when Hopkins blinks, falters. His eyes flicker heavenward. Now: Is Morse acknowledging the unfairness of it all? Or is Hopkins lamenting the paucity of material his fellow actors have been given, to work with?
It’s important for me to take issue with this simplicity, I think.
Ta-DAA!
If we decide to question the premise, Hopkins' contribution to the film becomes all the more striking. In his portrayal of Morse and Morse's interactions with the other underdeveloped people, Hopkins treats Mamet's characters with more respect than Mamet does?! I'm breaking new ground, here. It is exhilerating. I guess that’s why we do these, Gess and I. I wish I could see the original screenplay from which this was taken. Suddenly, the ending makes sense to me, where it never has, before:
Charles Morse is finally rescued, and they clamor around him on the dock. The Faithless Trophy Wife stands apart, abashed, her mind a tangle of conflicting emotions. She watches as they unload Bob’s shrouded corpse from the ’copter. Morse is making his way through the throng. First, he passes the innkeeper. Morse turns, gives him a long look, and speaks in reprise: “Why is the rabbit unafraid?” he reminds him.
A look of understanding passes between the two men, and Jenkins grins a crooked, scarfaced grin. “Hmp! Because he’s smarter than the panther!”
Morse, the humble victor, arrives before his spoils. He presses her dead lover’s watch into her palm—a watch with an inscription that belies her faithlessness—in a gesture that makes clear his knowledge of the transgression. She looks down in surprise. Her face collapses.
Gently, now, having dealt this blow, Morse raises a grimy hand against a barrage of reporters’ questions. “We are all put to the test.” He stops. “…but it never comes in the form, or at the…point…we would prefer. Does it?”
“Mr. Morse,” another interjects, “The other men. Your friends.” It is a question.
“My friends,” Morse repeats, without inflection.
“What happened to them, sir?”
Silence.
“How did they die, sir?” prods a female reporter.
“They died,” says Morse, huskily, “saving my life.”
There’s a moment, like Rutger Hauer’s final moment in Bladerunner, when Hopkins blinks, falters. His eyes flicker heavenward. Now: Is Morse acknowledging the unfairness of it all? Or is Hopkins lamenting the paucity of material his fellow actors have been given, to work with?
It’s important for me to take issue with this simplicity, I think.
Ta-DAA!
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Five Weeks
In ATL, we meet the main characters at a crucial moment in their life: five weeks before the end of the school year, the beginning of summer vacation, and the Skate Wars at their neighborhood hangout. (Other crucial things are happening with side characters, but they are not our concern.) For Rashad, his two high-school-senior friends, and their older buddy Teddy, it is five weeks before adulthood descends abruptly upon them. They will no longer have childhood to shelter them.
Only for Esquire, bound and determined to go to college, will the academic year ever mean anything again. Brooklyn's string of part-time jobs have already given him a taste of his future in menial jobs. So has Teddy's little business selling grills(1) given him a glimpse into the future.
Rashad's story is altogether different. He doesn't have a plan. What he has is a lot of responsibilities.
Rashad has responsibility at school by day (the least of his worries) and cleaning offices and a Value Village store with his uncle by night. (Uncle George does little of the work and keeps most of the money.) Rashad has a responsibility to his younger brother Ant, for whose future Rashad is saving his meager wages. (Ant isn't waiting for some undefined future though. He wants to get his now.) Rashad has a pretty, mysterious new girlfriend, too. (She's really into Rashad, but she's keeping a very big secret from him.) Rashad has a responsibility to his buddies, too, to plan and practice and perfect a winning skating routine for the Skate Wars.
Needless to say, Rashad broods. It doesn't matter that he is a teenager and that there are many more serious things waiting for him in adulthood. He worries, and I think, "I've been there." You've been there, too, with too much to do, to plan, to worry about. Heck, in these days of economic recession and shrinking government budgets, you may be there right now.
Sometimes living in these modern times in this first-world country gives us much to worry and brood about. There are immediate issues, mid term worries, and long term planning. What's for lunch? How am I going to send the kids to college? Will I ever be able to retire? One way to deal with life's issues, questions, and decisions is to look five weeks ahead.
Tempted by fast food? Visualize a healthier you five weeks from now if you don't have that fatty, greasy meal. Planning for your children's future? Take five weeks to research your options and set one in motion. Can't figure out your retirement? Well, start thinking about it five weeks from now.
Simply put: in five weeks' time, you can change the course of your whole life.
(1) Grill (jewelry) In hip hop culture, a grill (also front or golds) is a type of jewelry worn over the teeth. Grills are made of metal and are generally removable. They began to be worn by hip hop artists in the early 1980s, but they became widely popular during the mid-2000s due to the rise of Dirty South rap. Though grills are fitted to the tooth impression of the wearer, whether they are safe for long-term wear is unknown. (From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia)
Only for Esquire, bound and determined to go to college, will the academic year ever mean anything again. Brooklyn's string of part-time jobs have already given him a taste of his future in menial jobs. So has Teddy's little business selling grills(1) given him a glimpse into the future.
Rashad's story is altogether different. He doesn't have a plan. What he has is a lot of responsibilities.
Rashad has responsibility at school by day (the least of his worries) and cleaning offices and a Value Village store with his uncle by night. (Uncle George does little of the work and keeps most of the money.) Rashad has a responsibility to his younger brother Ant, for whose future Rashad is saving his meager wages. (Ant isn't waiting for some undefined future though. He wants to get his now.) Rashad has a pretty, mysterious new girlfriend, too. (She's really into Rashad, but she's keeping a very big secret from him.) Rashad has a responsibility to his buddies, too, to plan and practice and perfect a winning skating routine for the Skate Wars.
Needless to say, Rashad broods. It doesn't matter that he is a teenager and that there are many more serious things waiting for him in adulthood. He worries, and I think, "I've been there." You've been there, too, with too much to do, to plan, to worry about. Heck, in these days of economic recession and shrinking government budgets, you may be there right now.
Sometimes living in these modern times in this first-world country gives us much to worry and brood about. There are immediate issues, mid term worries, and long term planning. What's for lunch? How am I going to send the kids to college? Will I ever be able to retire? One way to deal with life's issues, questions, and decisions is to look five weeks ahead.
Tempted by fast food? Visualize a healthier you five weeks from now if you don't have that fatty, greasy meal. Planning for your children's future? Take five weeks to research your options and set one in motion. Can't figure out your retirement? Well, start thinking about it five weeks from now.
Simply put: in five weeks' time, you can change the course of your whole life.
(1) Grill (jewelry) In hip hop culture, a grill (also front or golds) is a type of jewelry worn over the teeth. Grills are made of metal and are generally removable. They began to be worn by hip hop artists in the early 1980s, but they became widely popular during the mid-2000s due to the rise of Dirty South rap. Though grills are fitted to the tooth impression of the wearer, whether they are safe for long-term wear is unknown. (From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia)
Saturday, January 15, 2011
The Edge, Antibonding: More Quotable Lines
I've not really moved this plot forward much for you readers, have I? It's because, in my memory, the plot is not my focus. "There's a plane crash, and then there's a series of bear chases. And then there's a moment of bonding, followed by a moment of confrontation--then home." For me, that's the plot. The things I carry with me, from state to state to state, about this movie, are the lines: moments of humor or connection between the men (they start out as three); barbed comments; sudden discovery; triumph--it's all there. As with No Country, I am wont to insert these bits in places in my own life, when it's appropriate. I have tried to limit this practice to my journals, however; people tend to eye me with suspicion, otherwise.
Here are a few quotes that I remember:
Exhorting:
1. After a big disappointment, a mistake in navigation that puts them back at Square One, the men begin lashing out at one another. Morse reminds them not to give up:
"Shall we lay down and die, Bob? [shouting] Shall we lay down and die?"
Bonding:
2. Bob and Charles are scanning the horizon after making camp for their wounded comrade, Steven (a non-character in his own right). "Puts things in perspective, doesn’t is?," says Bob, smoking.
“What’s that?” says Morse.
"Out here. Little different from the fashion world. Little different from snorting coke off the girls’ hip bones.”
“In what way?” says Charles, smiling at his little joke.
Humor:
3. Bob and Charles are relaxing on a log, roasting bear meat after the great triumph. "You see, Charles, that’s why they call it personal growth. A month ago, old Smokey here woulda reared up, you probably woulda called your lawyer!"
"No, " says Morse, slowly, "I wouldn't do that to an animal."
This camaraderie is short-lived. Once it seems they'll in fact make it back to civilization, Bob's old envy returns like a drug habit, like the snake in the fable: “because it’s in my nature!” The moment is recorded in a facial gesture. Bob begins to plot. He plots, and fails. He connives, and loses. Morse uses Bob's own weaknesses--his weight, as it were--to kill him. On the principle of the deadfall. And then, he scoops him up and rushes him back to the modern world, tries to save his life. Sort of like, "You had to mess with me! You know I have to defeat you, when you mess with me! But, I didn't want to have to defeat you! You made me!!"
I am thinking Mamet's original tale is much more smug and nasty, on both men's parts. Hopkins’ Morse is older, gentler, and, yet, some people really are that foolish. I'm coming to grips with the fact that maybe this movie is just about some stupid people. It almost doesn't matter whether or not their author is stupid right along with them.
Here are a few quotes that I remember:
Exhorting:
1. After a big disappointment, a mistake in navigation that puts them back at Square One, the men begin lashing out at one another. Morse reminds them not to give up:
"Shall we lay down and die, Bob? [shouting] Shall we lay down and die?"
Bonding:
2. Bob and Charles are scanning the horizon after making camp for their wounded comrade, Steven (a non-character in his own right). "Puts things in perspective, doesn’t is?," says Bob, smoking.
“What’s that?” says Morse.
"Out here. Little different from the fashion world. Little different from snorting coke off the girls’ hip bones.”
“In what way?” says Charles, smiling at his little joke.
Humor:
3. Bob and Charles are relaxing on a log, roasting bear meat after the great triumph. "You see, Charles, that’s why they call it personal growth. A month ago, old Smokey here woulda reared up, you probably woulda called your lawyer!"
This camaraderie is short-lived. Once it seems they'll in fact make it back to civilization, Bob's old envy returns like a drug habit, like the snake in the fable: “because it’s in my nature!” The moment is recorded in a facial gesture. Bob begins to plot. He plots, and fails. He connives, and loses. Morse uses Bob's own weaknesses--his weight, as it were--to kill him. On the principle of the deadfall. And then, he scoops him up and rushes him back to the modern world, tries to save his life. Sort of like, "You had to mess with me! You know I have to defeat you, when you mess with me! But, I didn't want to have to defeat you! You made me!!"
I am thinking Mamet's original tale is much more smug and nasty, on both men's parts. Hopkins’ Morse is older, gentler, and, yet, some people really are that foolish. I'm coming to grips with the fact that maybe this movie is just about some stupid people. It almost doesn't matter whether or not their author is stupid right along with them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)