movies | dual personalities

March 14, 2017

“Well, sister, the time has come for me to ride hard and fast.”*

by chuckofish

Another of my old work friends has passed away. Sigh.

Jane and I hit it off right away when we met fifteen years ago. She was the film guru at our flyover institute and led the Wednesday afternoon movie class for as long as I knew her without a break.

She was from an old flyover family

and knew everybody and how things worked in our town. We shared many a wink-wink moment. And, of course, she knew a lot about movies and we could talk and talk about our old favorites and more recent ones too. We both loved Paul Newman and John Wayne. We didn’t always agree (she was a fan of Martin Scorcese) but we respected each other’s opinion.

Her movie classes usually had a theme, like Biographies of the Creative Genius or Surprise Endings or Handsome Hunks of Hollywood’s Heyday. Not surprisingly, her courses were very popular. Last summer she finally offered a course entitled “Jane’s Faves” in which she showed her favorite films in four genres: Red River (1948) (Western), 2001: A Space Odyssey (Sci-Fi), A Star is Born (1954) (Musical), and Dr. Zhivago (1965) (Romance). Her last class was a retrospective of Ingrid Bergman’s career and we chose the movies together.

Tall and willowy and beautiful, Jane became weaker over the years, relying on an oxygen tank, and finally she rode around on a motorized scooter. She never gave up until the very end. When she couldn’t give her class anymore, much less leave her house, she cashed in her chips. A lapsed Episcopalian, she had lost her faith along the way and had decided that there was nothing waiting for her after death–just nothingness, the end. I’m glad her family is going to have a service for her, even if it is at the Ethical Society.

Tonight I will toast Jane and watch Red River in her memory. I remember telling her how smart I thought Montgomery Clift was in it, standing back and never trying to steal a scene from John Wayne, and how, ironically, you can’t keep your eyes off him in that movie. “Yes! Yes!” she said in her raspy voice, her eyes shining.

Into paradise may the angels lead thee, Jane, and at thy coming may the martyrs receive thee, and bring thee into the holy city Jerusalem.

*Rooster Cogburn in True Grit (1969)

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February 6, 2017

Teach me, my God and King, in all things thee to see*

by chuckofish

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Got to hold this little nugget this weekend. It felt real good.

I also gabbed on the phone with my dual personality and two daughters. I got my hair cut and put together two Valentine boxes to mail to the aforementioned daughters. I worked in the yard on Sunday when the temperatures soared into the fifties.

The boy came over and helped me take down one twin bed in his old room and haul it and the mattress down to the basement. Then, after carrying the pieces upstairs, he put together the antique double bed I bought at an estate sale last fall (remember?). He is one busy boy and I appreciate his coming over to help his old mother. We didn’t even give him dinner; he was headed somewhere afterwards.

I continued to read The Transit of Venus by Shirley Hazzard–really such a treat.

The cicatrice of stitching on her gloves was an imprint on his brain. Earrings of pearl stared, white-eyed as fish. There was a streak of flowered scarf, inane, and the collar blue. Grief had a painter’s eye, assigning arbitrary meaning at random–like God.

We watched two movies that are practically antiques–The Scarlet Pimpernel (1934) and Captain Blood (1935)–but which, in all the years since they were made, have never been surpassed on so many levels of cinematic effort. We watched a bit of the Super Bowl because the OM wanted to. Truly, I haven’t cared about football since Kurt Warner was traded to Arizona. (Except for Peyton Manning and he retired.)

I felt very happy sitting in church on Sunday. Nothing/no one annoyed me. I will try to hold on to this feeling and carry it into the work week.

Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.

*George Herbert, hymn #592

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January 16, 2017

Day by day

by chuckofish

Happy MLK Day and, if you are lucky enough to be home like I am, I hope you are enjoying your day off.

That’s ice on the trees…

In fact, this has turned out to be a very nice four-day weekend for me, because we had a “snow day” on Friday due to the ice storm here in flyover country. I stayed home for two days puttering around and re-organizing drawers and shelves and closets.

By Sunday morning the storm was pretty much over. I went to church and was surprised by how many people were there. The OM said they were probably stir crazy and just wanted to get out of the house. Well, maybe.

After church we went to lunch and then to the hospital to see the wee babes and their parents who were kangarooing as they do every day (even during the ice storm).

We watched Sully (2016) over the weekend and liked it a lot. Tom Hanks was just right as the remarkable pilot who landed the plane on the Hudson River without a single loss of life back in 2009. I think the movie could have used a little more backstory, but I won’t quibble. It was good.

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I cannot say the same for the much heralded Manchester By the Sea (2016) which I did not like.

Bad things happen in life, terrible things, but this movie seems to say that all of life is just a long, sad, hopeless journey and then you die. The characters in this movie are uniformly unable to express their feelings, much less talk without use of the F-word in every sentence. After the movie the OM and I both wondered what the writer/director was trying to say. I just didn’t get this movie.

Well, today I am going to enjoy my day off as the temperatures continue to climb and the ice melts. And I will continue to believe that life has meaning.

The question is not whether the things that happen to you are chance things or God’s things because, of course, they are both at once. There is no chance thing through which God cannot speak — even the walk from the house to the garage that you have walked ten thousand times before, even the moments when you cannot believe there is a God who speaks at all anywhere. He speaks, I believe, and the words he speaks are incarnate in the flesh and blood of our selves and of our own footsore and sacred journeys. We cannot live our lives constantly looking back, listening back, lest we be turned to pillars of longing and regret, but to live without listening at all is to live deaf to the fullness of the music. Sometimes we avoid listening for fear of what we may hear, sometimes for fear that we may hear nothing at all but the empty rattle of our own feet on the pavement. But be not affeard, says Caliban, nor is he the only one to say it. “Be not afraid,” says another, “for lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.” He says he is with us on our journeys. He says he has been with us since each of our journeys began. Listen for him. Listen to the sweet and bitter airs of your present and your past for the sound of him.

–Frederick Buechner, The Sacred Journey

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January 9, 2017

“Memory is a strange thing”*

by chuckofish

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Thirty years ago: the boy, suitably attired in black tie with his Auntie DP at Christmas.

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Yesterday: the boy with little Lottie in the NICU. Ah, sunrise, sunset…

I spent my weekend catching up at home, putting everything back in pre-holiday order. But, without fail, there is always something I cannot find and sure enough, this year was no different. C’est la vie. I am coping.

We also celebrated daughter #3’s Epiphany birthday and had a ~~gourmet~~ meatloaf meal, because she is so easy to please. Then we watched 3 Godfathers. Is she not the best daughter-in-law ever?

The OM and I also watched a couple of other movies this weekend. Our favorite was Hell or High Water (2016) starring Chris Pine and Ben Foster as two modern-day bank-robbing brothers set on saving the family ranch. Jeff Bridges plays the Texas Ranger bent on catching them.

Directed by the unknown-to-me Scotsman David Mackenzie and with a screenplay by actor/writer Taylor Sheridan (he was in Sons of Anarchy), it gets high fives from me. I appreciated its excellent, intelligent screenplay featuring interesting, relatable characters and a plot that kept me guessing. The acting was top-notch. My only complaint was the sound mixing, which like most modern movies, stunk–i.e. it is frequently difficult to understand what people are saying. And what they were saying was worth hearing, for once.

We also saw Arrival (2016), which was also very good and thought-provoking too. It stars Amy Adams and Jeremy Renner. It is science fiction, however, and not really my thing. My DP really liked it though and recommended it highly to me, so I pass that along.

I will also note that we saw La La Land (2016) last week, which has received rave reviews and a lot of hype. Directed by newcomer Damian Chazelle and starring the appealing Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling, it is about two young people struggling to make it in L.A. I didn’t buy any of it.

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Not to be harsh, but I found it amateurish and forgettable in every way. Rent Singin’ In the Rain if you want to see a good musical.

P.S. You can bet that La La Land will win all the Academy Awards this year (as it swept the Golden Globes), and that is why I no longer watch the show.

*Dr. Louise Banks in Arrival

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January 6, 2017

“Winter is coming”*

by chuckofish

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We had our first snow of the season Wednesday night. Of course, the local media had everyone whipped up into a frenzy of anticipation, some schools even closing preemptively the night before.

We received half an inch or so. Most of the heavier snow slid south of our flyover region. Par for the course.

Personally, I was fine with the half inch. I have a lot to do this weekend and it doesn’t all involve staying home and wrapping things in tissue paper as I undeck the halls.

I also intend to spend some more time with the books I received this Christmas and which I have already been enjoying.

I also am reading Just Kids by Patti Smith, which I bought for myself. In this National Book Award-winning memoir, Patti offers a fascinating glimpse into her life and relationship with the controversial artist/photographer Robert Mapplethorpe in the epochal days of New York City and the Chelsea Hotel in the late sixties and seventies.

I always kind of liked Patti Smith and now I know why. She may have been the queen of punk in her day, but she is a deep soul.

“I understood that what matters is the work: the string of words propelled by God becoming a poem, the weave of color and graphite scrawled upon the sheet that magnifies His motion. To achieve within the work a perfect balance of faith and execution. From this state of mind comes a light, life-changed.”

I highly recommend her book.

Here are some more great suggestions for reading material in 2017.

And don’t forget that today is the feast of Epiphany, which means it is time to watch 3 Godfathers (1948), John Ford’s classic film about three men on the lam with a baby in the old West.

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I think we will enjoy it even more than usual this year…

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Have a great weekend!

*George R.R. Martin

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December 7, 2016

Awakening a sleeping giant

by chuckofish

Today is the 75 anniversary of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, that “date that will live in infamy.”

At 7:55 a.m. Hawaii time, a Japanese dive bomber bearing the red symbol of the Rising Sun of Japan on its wings appeared out of the clouds above the island of Oahu. A swarm of 360 Japanese warplanes followed, descending on the U.S. naval base at Pearl Harbor in a ferocious assault. The surprise attack struck a critical blow against the U.S. Pacific fleet and drew the United States irrevocably into WWII. (History.com)

The battleships West Virginia and Tennessee burning

Wheeler Army Air Field under attack

Here are more pictures.

Our parents were, of course, deeply affected by this horrific attack. Our mother was 15 and in high school. She never quite forgave the Japanese for their part in this event and she would be shocked, I know, that we own a Japanese car. Our 19-year-old father dropped out of college and joined the army just like scores of other young men.

ANC III in 1942, Miami Beach

He served throughout the war. I have no doubt that my 41-year old grandfather Bunker would have joined up if the powers that be had let him. Our other grandfather, the newspaper man, spent a good part of the war in London during the Blitz. (My DP probably knows more about what he was actually doing there.)

It was a long and traumatizing war that left its mark on several generations of Americans. Everyone I knew growing up had a father in the war (and a few mothers). As small children we would proudly compare branches of the service in which our fathers served. And, of course, we watched Combat! on television with a certain amount of sophistication.

My favorite character was PFC Kirby who carried the BAR. Yes, I was seven.

Today TCM is honoring the anniversary with a 24-hour tribute. I plan to watch Tora! Tora! Tora! (1970), which I saw with my father when it was first released.

He, of course, found many mistakes in the film, as he always did, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. Among its stars is Jason Robards, who was a radioman, 3rd class, on the USS Northampton, which was about 100 miles off Hawaii at the time of the attack.

TCM is also showing They Were Expendable (1945) starring John Wayne, Donna Reed and Robert Montgomery, which is about American PT Boats (“those high powered canoes”) defending the Philippines in World War II. Directed by “John Ford, Captain U.S.N.R.”, it is blatantly propagandistic, but who cares?

This film is also noteworthy because John Wayne uncharacteristically wears a baseball cap through most of it (and he looks adorable.)

So pick a movie and toast the brave men and women who fought and died on December 7, 1941 and toast again for the rest who joined up shortly after.

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December 5, 2016

Look toward the east, O Jerusalem*

by chuckofish

Call him a stick-in-the-mud, a dinosaur, a fusty throwback, but indeed, jumping into the fray the day after Halloween was akin to hitting, and holding, high C for a couple of months, while a bit of patience saved Christmas for Christmas morning and kept the holy day fresh and new.

I re-read Shepherds Abiding by Jan Karon over the weekend and enjoyed it thoroughly. Although I agree with Father Tim about getting ahead of ourselves in regards to the Christmas season, we did go ahead as usual and buy our trees. They’re not up yet–they’re in the garage for now. I’ll try to get the little one up in the dining room this week, but I’m not going to stress about it. At least I don’t have a bad cat to deal with like the boy does.

In between getting organized for Christmas, doing laundry and sundry household tasks, and going to a baby shower for daughter #3,

I watched Donovan’s Reef (1963)–a film which the New York Times described at the time as “sheer contrivance effected in hearty, fun-loving, truly infectious style.” I would agree with that assessment whole-heartedly.

It takes place at Christmas and includes an amusing Polynesian Christmas pageant, so I count it as a Christmas movie.

Directed by John Ford and starring John Wayne and Lee Marvin, it is heavy-handed in the Irish humor department, but if you’re in the right mood, it can really hit the spot. (Shot in Hawaii, the scenery is beautiful as well.) I was in the mood.

I also went to our Advent Service of Lessons and Carols on Sunday night at church. I read lesson five, from Baruch:

Look toward the east, O Jerusalem, and see the joy that is coming to you from God…

We sang quite a few of my favorite Advent hymns and the choir sang and the bell choir played. Then I went home and ate chili, which the OM had made, and we watched Gregory Peck as King David in the technicolor extravaganza David and Bathsheba (1951).

Despite GP’s awesome presence, it was pretty bad and not surprisingly, as it is based on one of the Bible’s more sordid stories.

So back to Christmas movies already.

*Baruch 4:36

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December 2, 2016

Father of minutes, Father of days*

by chuckofish

Well, the weekend is upon us. Sigh. I intend to check out our Grace Church Holiday Sale, go to a baby shower for daughter #3, and attend our Advent Lessons and Carols service. Maybe I will convince the OM to go with me to buy our Christmas trees…

In between the aforementioned fun activities, I plan to start watching Christmas movies. You know:

Miracle on 34th Street (1947)

The Bishop’s Wife (1947)

or maybe Edward Scissorhands (1990)

There are so many to choose from! Meanwhile, maybe I’ll get started on those Christmas cards!

BTW, don’t forget to set your DVR this month, because TCM is, of course, showing a lot of Christmas classics! Here’s the schedule.

And this Instagram made me laugh:

Enjoy your weekend!

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November 18, 2016

“Dream sweet dreams. Maybe we are both dreaming. Maybe this is all a dream, and in the morning, Mommy will wake us up with milk and cookies.”*

by chuckofish

Earlier in the week I read this interesting blogpost about when God speaks to you directly through a movie. The author says that God spoke to him in Little Boy (2015)

in which an eight-year-old boy (“Little Boy”) is willing to do whatever it takes to end World War II so his father can come home. Of course, I had to see this highly-recommended movie!

God, however, did not speak to me through this movie. (Nor did I expect him to.) It was a good movie, but I found it disappointing and even mildly irritating. A well-meaning priest gives the boy a list of things he must do to prove his faith before he can “move a mountain”. When he completes the list, he actually “moves” the local mountain when there is an earthquake. Then (spoiler alert!) the U.S. drops the “Little Boy” atomic bomb on Hiroshima, which eventually does bring his father home. Well, well. To me, this is marred theology.

But I get it. I totally understand what the author means when he says God spoke to him personally through a movie (any movie) and the blogpost got me thinking about when/if this had been my experience.

For me, the movie that comes immediately to mind is Life Is Beautiful (1997) which was written and directed by Roberto Benigni, who also starred in it.

When I saw that movie, I finally comprehended the absurdity and horror of the Holocaust, and God opened my heart to the Jewish people.

Perhaps that is the key: our frozen hearts can be melted by a film and God speaks to us. Can you think of when this happened to you? Has a movie ever changed you?

Discuss among yourselves.

By the way, if you are in the mood for a “feel good” movie, I recommend Eddie the Eagle (2016) about the British ski jumper and Olympian Eddie Edwards. It actually made me feel good and I enjoyed watching Hugh Jackman as Eddie’s American “Coach” Bronson Peary.

Have a good weekend.

*Guido in Life Is Beautiful (1997)

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November 11, 2016

Filled with wisdom and girded with strength

by chuckofish

Today is Veterans Day when we salute and pay our respects to all those who serve and have served in the military.

O Almighty Lord God, who neither slumberest nor sleepest; Protect and assist, we beseech thee, all those who at home or abroad, by land, by sea, or in the air, are serving this country, that they, being armed with thy defence, may be preserved evermore in all perils; and being filled with wisdom and girded with strength, may do their duty to thy honour and glory; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

This is also the anniversary of the Great Blue Norther of November 11, 1911 (11/11/1911) wherein a cold snap affected the central U.S. Many cities broke record highs, going into the 70s and 80s early that afternoon. By nightfall, cities were dealing with temperatures in the teens and single-digits on the Fahrenheit scale. This is the only day in many flyover cities’ weather bureau jurisdictions where the record highs and lows were broken for the same day. Some cities experienced tornadoes on Saturday and a blizzard on Sunday. The main cause of such a dramatic cold snap was an extremely strong storm system separating warm, humid air from frigid, arctic air. Dramatic cold snaps tend to occur mostly in the month of November, though they can also come in February or March. They are nothing new, as you can see.

Today is also the birthday of Robert Bushnell Ryan (November 11, 1909 – July 11, 1973), film actor and graduate of Dartmouth College. He was never one of my favorite actors, but he did star in one of my favorite movies–you guessed it–The Professionals (1966). I have to admit that, after this week, I am in the mood for this great movie about “some men with guns, going somewhere, to do something dangerous.”