Those who have been reading this blog for a while know that I have a strong interest in 1960's pop culture, especially in regards to that era's popular music. It should come as no surprise then that I can't help but comment on the passing of Charles Manson, one of the most notorious criminals of the last century, who became a symbol for the dark side of the 1960's Dionysian dream. It isn't clear if he ever killed anyone with his own hands, but upon his orders at least nine people were murdered by members of his "family."The most infamous of these killings happened over two nights in August 1969. The most famous victim was actress Sharon Tate, wife of film director Roman Polanski, who was eight months pregnant at the time. Beyond the killings themselves, the most shocking part of the story is that this malevolent figure indeed became associated with '60's pop culture, along side lava lamps and the Beatles. The fact that Manson claimed to be inspired by songs from the White Album didn't help the association. Elements of the underground press at the time championed him as an avatar of the antiestablishment counter culture. It seems funny now that the radical left that once embraced him is now trying to distance itself from his legacy, as we shall see. After he and his followers were convicted and sent to prison for good a morbid fascination with Manson persisted over the decades that followed. It seemed like every few years some TV news show would feature a ratings grab interview of Manson, as if he had anything to really say. Along with a life of crime, he had been an aspiring singer-songwriter, who associated with Dennis Wilson of the Beach Boys. He even got some studio time to cut a couple of demos. Some of these recordings have circulated as bootlegs, and Guns N' Roses and (not coincidentally) Marilyn Manson have recorded his songs. His image has appeared on T-shirts, and he's been the inspiration for fictional, as well non-fictional TV shows, movies and books. But there is nothing inspirational about Charles Manson's story; nothing romantic or profound. Born in Cincinnati, growing up for a time in nearby Norwood, his birth certificate read "no name Maddox." Eventually his 16 year old mother Kathleen replaced the "no name" with Charles Milles, then later married the man who would adopt the child, giving him the moniker he would be known by the rest of his life. Following her lead (Kathleen may or may not have been a prostitute, but did get in some scrapes for stealing) he picked up cash here and there by robbing stores and stealing cars. When not in reform schools or juvenile halls he bounced between relatives in various states because of his mother's similar stints behind bars. He spent most of his adolescence and young adulthood in and out of prison. Once, when he was 32, he begged not to released, since incarceration was the only stability he'd known in his life up to then. By 1967 Manson found himself in San Francisco taking advantage of the free love and readily available drugs. By 1968 he was in the L.A. area, bouncing between remote locations, forming a commune of sorts that he called the Family, by attracting runaway girls and drifters. Some are now arguing that Manson wasn't a product of the 1960's counterculture, but was a backlash to it, and that he had more in common with today's alt-right than with the hippies of yesteryear. The first part of this thesis is plausible, the second two parts are a product of liberal wishful thinking. He may not have been a hippie, but he and his Family were certainly the products of a time and a place. In Slouching Toward Bethlehem, Joan Didion offers an image of the Haight in 1967 that is far from idealistic. We see kids, some as young as 15, run away from home, from parents who are just as happy that they were gone, experienced beyond their years but with none of the wisdom of age. It was from among these lost boys and, especially, girls that Manson drew his followers. He was a racist, yes. But his motivation for killing had as much to do with revenge for the record deal that never materialized as it did with wanting to start some kind of apocalyptic race war. He was a psychologically broken man who never knew a real home life, and was now forming one from the remnants of people more shattered than himself. He may not have been a hippie, but he sure was taking advantage of a world falling apart, and it's arguable that he could have only gathered his Family and mesmerized them in that particular time and place. That said, I would agree that he wasn't the product of the Counterculture, but he was the product of a counterculture. He was the product of neglect and dislocation. He was the product of what happens when the family structure breaks down and the state tries to fill the gap. He was the product of a criminal justice system that takes troubled kids and makes them monsters. He was already in his thirties when he hit Haight - Ashbury and the Summer of Love, so no, the 1960's Counterculture didn't produce him per se, but it was made for him. Take a relatively young man who had experienced too much too soon, and as a result had also acquired a peculiar, twisted wisdom, and release him into a pool of other, weaker, lost souls he could manipulate to his ends. Then throw in the drugs, and the sex and the crazy, half literate philosophy of the hippies, and you get Charles Manson. No, there is nothing romantic about him. Nothing profound. He was neither a counterculture messiah nor a crypto Nazi. He was a twisted soul who had it just together enough to manipulate other twisted souls. He isn't a cultural icon, but a prophetic warning of what can happen when the traditional social guardrails, particularly the familial ones, fail. Don't misunderstand me. He was responsible for his actions: many go through the things he did in his life and don't end up murderers. But few end up stable productive citizens either. This is the part of the obit where I ask you to pray for the deceased. I wasn't sure how I was going to handle it. While I understand the sentiment, I don't like headlines or articles that proclaim that Charles Manson is in hell. That's God's prerogative, and we should never try to grasp at it, even in what may seem like open and shut cases, even if we're being rhetorical. But after reading the news getting myself to pray for him was impossible. All I could think of was Sharon Tate begging for the life of her unborn child, and my blood went hot with rage. Then I saw something about Tates sister, Debra, who "said a prayer, shed a tear, stuck a flower under my cross" when she heard the news. Make no mistake, she has practically made it her life's mission to keep Manson and the other Family members responsible for the murders incarcerated when they come up for parol. But she also knows that hate is useless, and forgiveness the only path to true freedom. I thought, "if she could pray for him, I can too." And I went ahead and prayed three Hail Mary's for the repose of his soul. I ask you to do the same, and to also pray for his victims. Abigail Folger Voytek Frykowski Gary Hinman Leno LaBianca Rosemary LaBianca Stephen Parent Jay Sebring Donald Shea Sharon Tate Eternal rest grant unto them o Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls, and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. AMEN
Father Mike Schmitz is a fast taking, charismatic preacher, with a lot of down to earth insights into the Faith. He's one of his video's on why we venerate the saints.
I've definitely found keeping The AX relevant in the Age of Trump harder than normal. It's always been a challenge for me to stay on top the news, and write on events in real time, which is part of what a blog is all about. If journalism is literature in a hurry, than blogs are journalism on methedrine. At their best they walk in the footsteps of gonzos like Hunter Thompson, or better "New Journalist" like Tom Wolfe, who put themselves in the middle of the story. Thompson was more imaginative, blurring the line between fact and fiction, while Wolfe stuck to what he saw, but with a decidedly subjective glance. Things are moving so fast right now that it's hard to process events quickly, then write about them before they disappear from our collective consciousness. I could site my work load, but then I see Msgr. Charles Pope, a pastor of a busy parish in D.C., with all sorts of other important positions inside his archdiocese and his prolific output. Don Bosco used to stay up nights writing drafts of the Salesian Constitutions, text books of all sorts and articles for the Salesian Bulletin. Then he would still go all day running the Oratory. I may have a loaded plate similar to Msgr. Pope's, but I am not nearly a occupied as Don Bosco, so find a way I must. I can hope for increased output, but relevancy will never be my thing. It just takes me too long to think things through, and I lack the gift of brevity. But I'm introducing a new feature called "Staying Irrelevant." About once or twice a month I'll write on several current topics briefly, whether they happen to be in the latest news cycle or not, as well as set up longer posts that are in process. One Last Thing About Harvey Weinstein and the Latest Hollywood Sex Scandals David Cole over at Taki's Mag wrote a piece a couple of weeks ago basically saying that there are too many self proclaimed experts who've never stepped foot in a movie studio who are talking all sorts of trash about the Weinstein scandal and the proverbial casting couch who have no idea what they're talking about. He doesn't deny Weinstein's actions, but contends that he represents the crudest of Hollywood's crude fringe. Most actors get their roles through a professional process involving casting directors and assistant directors, with not sexual quid pro quo's involved. When it's employed, the real casting couch, Cole continues, is a much more subtle affair allowing for both informed consent and plausible deniability on behalf of the respective parties. The Weinstein's of the industry are a sad, repulsive aberration from the norm. The post made me stop short, because I qualify as one of those would be movie industry experts Cole calls out. True, the closest I've ever come to a Hollywood sound stage is when I was a member of the studio audience for a taping of Jeopardy twenty-five years ago. But I've been haunting movie theaters and multiplexes since 1974, and have observed a lot just by watching, as Yogi would have said. And what I've noticed is that filmmakers like to preach, quite a lot. And as a priest, I know when I'm being preached to. They also take a great deal of pride in it. You could make a killing betting on the Oscar winners each year based on the social causes the nominated films are championing or marginalized minorities the actors are playing. You don't even have to see the movies in question, reading a synopsis will do. I'm not saying the winners are unworthy (I subscribe to the Katherine Hepburn principle that all Oscar winners are deserving, just not necessarily for the part or movie they won for), but I have the creeping feeling that political correctness trumps art, or even commerce, in the minds of the Academy voters.
What the Weinstein, and now Kevin Spacey scandals have exposed is that show business is exactly that, a business run by human beings who can get just as drunk on power and greed as are members of any other large corporation. There are sincere filmmakers who want to use art to make a difference, but mostly its about profits and image, with a smattering moral posing thrown in to fain social credibility. Rumors, long circulating just under the radar, of the abuse of minors are also surfacing. There was a story last week about a possible bombshell exploding over at Nickelodeon, which has yet to ignite. Jim McDermott over at America Magazine offers some sensible advise to the folks in Tinsel Town based on the Church's experiences with the child sex abuse scandal. I'm not sure they're going to take it, though. The Church has a built in moral center that she can recalibrate to when her institutional members go off the right path. What is the film industry's moral true north, especially when so many of its products promote the idea of moral relativism? Also, there was a free and independent press to follow the story up. There are now 6 major conglomerates that control 90% of media outlets in the country. The same corporations that make the movies also run several major newspapers and control network news departments. You might believe that his may not be such a big deal when the target of an investigation is an oil company, the government or the Church. But when it comes to the mass media policing it's own, how does that work? Personally, I'm surprised this much has gotten out at all (I have my own, inexpert opinions on this, that I'll keep to myself). How deep will the reporting be allowed to go if things prove to be really ugly, and big profits are at risk? And did I mention there are journalists getting caught up in the scandals too? No, I'm not an expert. But I have two eyeballs, two ears and a brain, and I know when I'm being preached to by a flagrant hypocrite, and I hope the film industry is humble enough now to stop. Wicca a Go-Go I've stockpiled some articles on the latest trend among millennials: the abandonment of traditional religion in favor paganism and the occult. I'm still sifting through them, and plan a longer post, but just a few thoughts for now. With the rise of the New Atheists after 9/11 the thinking was that young people in the West were abandoning Christianity because they could see now that religion breeds fanaticism and violence. Along with the terrorist attacks perpetrated by Islamic extremists, we had the priest child sex abuse scandals that erupted at the beginning of 2002, further eroding confidence in traditional religious institutions, the Catholic Church in particular. The alternative to religion being offered was atheism rooted in scientific rationalism. Once and for all the medieval superstitions of the past were going to be put to rest since the "God delusion" had been exposed by savage Muslim terrorists and lecherous priests. While these evangelists of nihilism use philosophical and scientific arguments, in reality they rely on the sins of religious people to make their case. As horrible as a religious person using their faith to justify mass murder or a clergyman abusing children are, they do not prove one way or the other the existence of God. It's just simply a non sequitur. It can be emotionally stirring, and people do lose their faith as a result of scandals, but the connection is logically vacant. What might seem logical is the assertion that a rejection of God equals a rejection the spiritual. The New Atheists like Sam Harris and Richard Dawkins aren't proposing a "spiritual but not religious" option, though Harris believes in using meditative techniques, which makes some of his fellow travelers uneasy. They don't believe in a spiritual realm at all. Reality is simply what can be observed and measured. But this won't do for many people, because even though they may not trust religious institutions, there is something innate in all of us that seeks the transcendent, and this is where the new fascination with the occult comes in. Occult practices are perfect for today, because they combine two innate desires that we all have - one is our desire for the transcendent, the other is our desire to control. Belief in Jesus means surrender, and in the relinquishing of our will we become truly free and united with God. But this goes against our desire to control outcomes. This is where the occult comes in. The witch or the shaman is trying to manipulate spiritual forces to achieve a desired end. God asks us to be patient and possibly endure trials on the road to salvation. We are probably not going to get what we want when we pray, but are asked to trust that God knows better than we do about what we really need. The occult offers us spells, potions and incantations that will get us what we want when we want it. In the occult we can get everything we want - to touch the transcendent and satisfy our will, and don't have to worship God. I am now my own god who controls the very spiritual realms. Of course, this is a dead end. Those who try to manipulate "spirits" find our that they are the ones who wind up manipulated, but more on that later. This move to the occult is perfect for today because it fits our post modern sensibilities, which far from embracing science and reason, is a trip down the rabbit hole of self centered subjectivity and the will to power. Postmodernist Blues I have a big blind spot in my philosophical education. Dr. George Pepper, one of my philosophy professors at Iona College, may he rest in peace, had a penchant for switching course topics on a whim. For instance, once I'd signed up for medical ethics - a requirement, and when I showed up he decided that he didn't want to teach that. So we spent the next 15 weeks on political philosophy instead. This was ok as far as I was concerned, I shared Dr. Pepper's interest in the topic. The only problem is that my transcript reflects the course I never took, which caused some confusion when I was trying to get into Seton Hall. I don't remember the particulars, but I had to convince some registrar that I couldn't go on to a second level medical ethics class since I never took the first one. The other quick switch was when we got to contemporary philosophy. This time he didn't want to be bored teaching a survey course, so we did a semester of Hegel. "Hegel is all you really need," he told us, "Everybody since, from Marx to Nietzsche, are simply answering him." As true as this may be, I still feel like there is a big drop off in my comfort level when dealing with latter day thinkers like Nietzsche, or the French existentialist of the 20th century, let alone the fathers of postmodernism like Michel Foucault or Jacques Derrida. To fill this gap I'm reading Explaining Postmodernism: Skepticism and Socialism from Rousseau to Foucault (Expanded Edition) by Stephen R.C. Hicks. I'm early on, but Hicks sets things up in a rather concise way. He reviews Medieval and Enlightenment philosophies, presenting them as a progression from a faith, mysticism based philosophy to the supremacy of reason that led the way for the scientific revolution and modern conceptions of political and economic liberty. Postmodernism discards both, but most troubling for Hicks is the rejection of the Enlightenment. Rather than pure reason being the guiding principle, postmodernists take the old Marxist analysis, but in place class conflict, people are divided by race, gender and sexual orientation into oppressed and oppressors: dominant groups against the subjugated. Rather than people possessing individual rights, they have rights insofar as they are a member of an oppressed or marginalized group. Logic and reason are rejected as tools used by the oppressors to keep the oppressed in their place. Contradictory opinions can be kept with no problem, even if they are contradicted by the physical reality, because what matters is the protection of oppressed groups and, ironically, the radical right of the individual to define "reality" as they see fit without reference to any exterior, empirical supporting evidence. My only critique of Hicks is that he clearly doesn't understand Medieval thought. He makes the classic mistake of missing the Medieval synthesis of faith and reason. He blames Immanuel Kant for separating faith and reason so that he could preserve both, but most especially his faith. This rending actually happened back during the Reformation, when Luther rejected philosophical thought as having any place in religious discussions. Kant, over two hundred years later, was trying to show that you could have both, but just in separate compartments. The Catholic world view is that there is no conflict between faith and reason. If revelation and science seem to contradict, then we have either done the science wrong, or else we've interpreted revelation the wrong way. Otherwise, the book has been pretty eye opening so far, and I'm looking forward to finishing it. The only way to understand political correctness and what is controversially called Cultural Marxism is to understand postmodernism. I owe many debts of gratitude to Dr. Pepper. He was patient with a block head like me during an independent study on Thomas Aquinas that he didn't have to do. I also really don't mind the switcheroo on the medical ethics class (I dig politics much more). But I do wish he had stuck with he contemporary philosophy survey. It might have saved me from having to read this book now.
In D.H. Lawrence's short story, Tickets, Please!, John Thomas Raynor is a tram car inspector in the North of England during World War I. Since so many able bodied men are off fighting in France, women are taking jobs as conductors, among other professions once reserved for men, on a tram line that connects the industrial towns of the North. John Thomas, also known, derisively, as Coddy, is one of the few men left on the home front who isn't either elderly or physically disabled. He capitalizes on his male to female ratio advantage by "walking out" with several of the more attractive women conductors. After he uses them and dumps them, some leave the service in disgrace while others continue as if nothing happened. But one, Annie, will have none of it. It takes a long time for her to succumb to Coddy's charms, and when she finally does, it's love, at least for her. When she presses too hard, trying to get to know who John Thomas really is on the inside, trying to form a more intimate bond, looking for a commitment, he puts her aside like he did all the others.
Instead of quitting her job amid scandalous whispers or keeping calm and carrying on, Annie plots a late night encounter in the tram depot between John Thomas and six more of his erstwhile liaisons. What begins with a benign cup of tea ends with the women beating Coddy within an inch of his life. When forced to choose one of them for a wife, he picks Annie, who now will have nothing to do with him. He leaves, cloths torn, face bloodied, head bowed as the women tidy themselves up. Some are laughing, some are quietly satisfied with their revenge, but Annie still seethes, for out of all of them, his late night kisses and warm embraces meant the most, because she was truly in love.
Harvey Weinstein
I thought of this story as I've been reflecting on the saga of Harvey Weinstein, the movie producer caught up in a sex scandal that is consuming Hollywood, and whose ramifications extend throughout the entertainment industry, and even into politics. The fictional John Thomas and the very real life Harvey Weinstein have very little in common, except for their penchant for using and discarding young attractive women at work. John Thomas is actually handsome and charming. He doesn't exercises brute force to win his conquests, but is patiently seductive. We don't get the sense that he fires women who resist, and the ones who leave the tram service's employ do so only after having given in, out of embarrassment, sometimes their own, sometimes that of their families. Harvey Weinstein, not exactly a prize in the looks department, is, by all reports, a crude bully who, almost as a matter of course, used his position as one of the most powerful men in the film industry to pressure women into sex for work in the movies. I won't go into the gory details, but we're not talking about a roguish gentleman here. While you wouldn't want either man to be the dean of a girls school, I could see having a beer with John Thomas. I'm not sure I'd even want to be in the same bar as Harvey Weinstein, let alone share a drink. What made me think of Tickets, Please! during this scandal is the story's pay off. Actress Rose McGowan, the most vocal of Weinstein's accusers, did't literally lock him in a train car with six other furious actresses for a good old fashioned tail whooping, but she has been the ring leader of a cyber smack down just as vicious. She hasn't been content to just target Weinstein, but has also called out other actors and film executives for acts of misogyny. What motivated McGowan and others to come forward now, and the New York Times to break a story they and others had been sitting on for years, is a mystery, at least to me. But what is not a mystery is her fury. She isn't a jilted lover, but she is a woman taken advantage of by powerful men who allegedly derailed her career when she wouldn't play the Hollywood game. Like Annie, her willingness to come forward empowered others to stand up and confront the bully.
Harry Cohn
For all the press coverage the scandal has received, Harvey Weinstein isn't a unique figure in the history of the motion picture industry. The "casting couch" has been a part of show business as long as actors have had to audition for parts and yes, men and children can be victims of it too. Harry Cohn, the co-founder and head of Colombia Pictures through Hollywood's "golden age" of the 1930's and '40's was notorious for propositioning actresses. Some, like Rita Hayworth and Joan Crawford were established enough that they could tell him where to get off. Others like Marilyn Monroe, as she was trying to break in the business, wasn't so lucky. Like Weinstein, Cohn was known as a crude bully who used fear to get what he wanted. When he died, comedian Red Skelton commented on the large crowd that attended the mogul's funeral by saying, "It proves what Harry always said: give the public what they want and they'll come out for it."
Just because a practice is common and has a long history doesn't make it right, of course, as is the point that we shouldn't blame the victims. If courage came easy this, along with countless other forms of exploitation, wouldn't exist, or at least their occurrence would be very rare. But people are ambitious. They want to move up in the their chosen professions, and show business breeds a particular type of ambition. Aspiring actors and actresses are tempted in ways your average accountant or plumber can't imagine. There is money, fame and pleasure, which are only the beginning. For those who get into directing and producing these allurements are augmented by the grasping for power. For those who are determined there might not be anything they won't do to see their dreams come true. For those who have "made it" the focus becomes keeping the wealth and security they've gained: some do it by keeping quite about misconduct, others use intimidation, lording their power over others. All this makes resisting the indignities of the casting couch difficult, and speaking up about it doubly so. Many do decide that there are some things that they just won't do for fame and fortune. If these resisters are lucky they can settle for a B or C list existence, missing out on bigger parts, not because they lack talent, but because there are limits to how much they'll play the game. Others abandon their careers in show business all together, choosing their dignity over celebrity. There are still others for whom the draw of stardom is just too much, and either give in to or tolerate behavior that is simply beyond the pale. Morally reprehensible? Yes. Shocking? Sadly, no.
Weinstein initially tried to excuse his behavior by saying that he is a child of the '60's Sexual Revolution, when things were looser and certain behaviors weren't simply tolerated but celebrated. I could see him, in perfect George Costanza fashion, stating quite earnestly that if he knew that this type of behavior was frowned upon he never would have done it. This simply isn't true, even if he believes his own words. As we've seen, this type of thing has more to do with the Roaring '20's than the Swinging '60's. The Sexual Revolution was in theory about women taking control of their sex lives, gaining the right to be as promiscuous as a man and not be judged negatively for it. It was a misguided movement, but it was about consensual sex, not sex as power or sex as transaction - which are what the casting couch is all about.
Hugh Hefner
This scandal arrives at an ironic moment, especially in light of Weinstein's particular excuse. Hugh Hefner, Playboy founder and Sexual Revolution popularizer, passed away September 27. In spite of the propaganda, the so called Playboy Philosophy was about men enjoying the good things of life, including sex, especially sex, without limits. Women were "free" to indulge in these pleasures also, of course. The Pill and other forms of artificial contraception made the consequences of intercourse irrelevant. Sex is no longer the reserve of the marriage bed, linked intimately to parenthood and family. It is ideally a sign of some sort of commitment, but really about recreation. Men and women could participate equally, each exploring and indulging their sexuality as a means of self discovery and self fulfillment. The social strictures placed on women, in particular, were simply societal constructs fueled by structural sexism and the accident of biology that has "saddled" women with the burden of childbearing. Hef was all about night clubs, expensive hi-fi stereos, gourmet meals, fine wines, and sex as the the finish to a night on the town, as Kyle Smith put it. All without strings or consequences.
At first feminists played along, but in short order they caught on to the game these low rent Don Juan's were playing. Being used is being used, no matter how someone tries to intellectualize it. To this day there is a conflict within feminism between the "pro-sex wing," supported by the likes of Camille Paglia - who coined the phrase - who see the more promiscuous side of the Sexual Revolution as a positive development, and those have rejected the Playboy Philosophy, seeing the relations between men and women as a "war," while still maintaining a woman's right to sexual autonomy. This, admittedly over simplified, outlook would be represented by the likes of Gloria Steinem. I'm on the record as being an admirer of Ms. Paglia, but I think she is wrong on this point. But at the same time I don't think that the Gloria Steinems of the world know what their talking about either. All the sides in this debate that we've examined so far miss the point because all of them begin with a deprived view of human sexuality - the very thing that they claim to know the best. In Tickets, Please! the women respond so violently to John Thomas when they finally get the chance because there is something inside them that knows instinctively that their dignity had been violated. Annie was in love, but the others had various levels of affection that were somewhat less drastic, nonetheless being used is being used, as I wrote before. On a gut level they knew that sex is more than pleasure, and forges a deeper bond between people. It is the moment when two people are quite literally naked in their vulnerability to one another. Even if it isn't a conscious concern, it is the only human act that can lead directly to a new life. Men are not always actively aware of this little fact. Women are much more attuned to this reality by the very cycles of their body. Men more easily focus on the pleasure component, along with some vague notion of bonding. Women tend to see the bigger picture, guarding their gift more securely. Lawrence wrote this story around 1920 as women were entering into the British workforce in ways similar to how they would later in the United States during World War II. It reflects the social changes that bringing women and men together in this way created, both sexes having to learn new ways of relating with one another. The story also reflects Lawrence's belief that men and women are at war with each other, and his own inability to understand the feminine mystique. While the sexual revolution was still forty years away, mores were already changing, and we can see the pratfalls foreshadowed in this brief tale. Since sex, at least for John Thomas, is unrelated to marriage and family, he (and we can assume the author) can't understand fully why these women react as they do. In some ways, he is the proto-Hefner, who can't understand why these women don't get the fact that they are sexual beings free to enjoy sexual pleasure responsibility free. John Thomas learns the hard way that there is no such thing a free love. Irregardless of half backed "philosophies" or pharmaceutical miracles, there is something in our very being, of men and women, but I believe especially of women, that knows that sex is more than either recreation or a commodity. It is the spark of life, the embrace that forms one flesh out of two. So we have two realities at work here: the long standing practice of powerful men using their status to force vulnerable women into sex, and the more recent development of the Sexual Revolution that sought to make men and women equal, not only in dignity but in the ability to treat their sexual partners in an undignified way. In both cases it's the man who wins, even if his intentions are not to do harm, or the woman believes herself to be empowered. From the contemporary man's stand point there is no reason for the woman not to go along for the ride. Contraception has taken away the danger of pregnancy, and if for some reason the devise or pill fails there's always the abortion clinic. And if you act soon enough there are even pills that will bring it off, as TS Eliot put it. With sex divorced from it's natural consequences all is possible. So why not use it as recreation, or in the case of the movie producer, as a currency? It's only sex, after all; no more significant than going skiing or shaking hands. The answer begins with acknowledging that men and women are certainly equal in dignity, but different in their respective ways of relating with the world and with one another. Traditional social-religious constructs were established, as Mona Charen points out, to curb the darker instincts of men. Can they be taken to unnecessary extremes? Yes they can, but the Vice President's policy, for instance, of not even eating lunch alone with a woman not his wife, in public or private, isn't some puritanical hang up, it's common sense. It's one less question he'll have to answer, one less whisper murmured behind his back and, possibly one less temptation he needs to struggle with. Women have their own ways of using sexuality to their advantage, no doubt about it. But whether it's the promiscuous culture created by the Sexual Revolution or the toxic culture that's held sway in Hollywood for better than a century, women are victimized to a far greater extent than men. Holding on to healthy, sensible boundaries in how men and women socially interact is a passé idea whose time has come. The second thing is to reunite in our collective consciousness the connection between sex, childbearing and family. Sex is only a mystery to us because we have disconnected these three things from one another on both a practical and intellectual level. It's no mystery why we know that sexual assault is repulsive and odious. But my experience as a priest, in the confessional or giving spiritual direction, is that even women in committed, consensual relationships begin to feel used in short order. Even those who otherwise claim to be liberated feel an inner disquiet, to put it mildly, wondering if all their boyfriend or lovers wants from them is their body. These women are unhappy, dissatisfied, trapped in a malaise, but are often slow to acknowledge the connection between their existential angst and extra-matital sex. Sex is only truly freeing when it is reserved for and yes limited by, marriage and family life. The situation in Hollywood is distinct from that of issues connected with the sexual revolution, though they do intersect. That established, powerful men would abuse their position of authority is nothing new. We have examples that go back at least as far as the biblical story of Susana. That this age old trope is mixed with the relative novelty of a promiscuous culture only makes the perpetrators feel more emboldened, as if the victim's giving in is some sort of fait accompli. The solution doesn't reside alone in recapturing the idea of proper social boundaries, or of coming to understand the legitimate differences between men and women. I haven't written about it here, but the proper understanding of original sin wouldn't hurt either (an article for another day). There needs to be concrete reforms, and an entire change in corporate culture. That this is how business has always been done will make it difficult, but not impossible, and I hope it succeeds. I hope it succeeds because I love the cinema. It's been for me an endless source of not just entertainment but, at its very best, of deep meditations on life, a different way of looking at reality. It's the thing that all great art has in common. And yeah, I enjoy movies where things blowed up real good, too. What the film industry needs to do is to get back to what the craft and art of film making is all about. To recapture the deeper reasons why people become actors and directors and writers. As Bette Davis once put it, the fame and the perks are of course the rewards of making it, and should be enjoyed with gratitude. First though an actor has to love to work - to get out on the stage and inhabit a role and make a performance come alive. There is nothing wrong with wanting to make a profit, but first must come the story, the beauty, the art. If Hollywood can reform itself, find its soul, it can be such a great instrument of good, rather than the meat market it has become, and in some ways always has been. While I don't agree that the dramatic arts is the only profession that celebrates what it means to live a life, it is a powerful one. I leave you with Viola Davis' acceptance speech from this year's Oscars. Here she touches upon what values Hollywood needs to find in order to forge lasting reform, and fulfill its important mission.
Tom Petty is quite possibly the most under appreciated figure in late 20th century rock music; not because his music isn't popular, but because it's so taken for granted. He did something very rare: he remained relevant, as far as the music charts went, for better than two decades - an eternity in pop music. He had remained a steady concert draw, even after his hit making days came to an end around the turn of the millennium. He stayed so prominent for so long without chasing trends or fads. He wrote and played, along with his band the Heartbreakers, simple, durable rock and roll in the tradition of the Byrds, the Rolling Stones and the Beatles - but he never seemed to be copying. The influences were there, but the songs were always 100% Tom Petty.
After nearly a decade toiling in obscurity, Petty hit it big in the heart of the disco / post-punk / new wave era of the late '70's, but wasn't punk or new wave, much less disco. He wrote songs of heartbreak, longing and, defiance - probably the thing that he had most in common with the punks - oftentimes sprinkled with a bit of ironic humor. Although he grew disillusioned with the record industry, a frustration that crept into his later songs, I remember and cherish his music for it's deep emotion and life affirming quality. There were flashier acts, more innovative artists, but long after their novelties faded away, there was always Tom Petty - steady, reliable, easy to take for granted. Out side of the Heartbreakers he worked with musicians as diverse as George Harrison, Bob Dylan, the Grateful Dead, Stevie Nicks and Johnny Cash, just to name a few. Dave Grohl made his first appearance after Kurt Cobain's death playing drums behind Petty on Saturday Night Live. But he didn't just mingle with rock royalty. In the 2000's he reformed his first band, the barley remembered Mudcrutch just because he felt like playing good old fashioned country tinged rock with old friends from back home. Petty was obviously influenced by the British Invasion of the 1960's, a movement that saw UK artists take American music and sell it back to the US. It's slightly ironic that he broke in England first, showing them what American music was really all about - reclaiming it, infusing it with American authenticity that those others could only approximate. He wasn't "Country Rock," but he was proud of his Southern roots, and his songs reflected the rebel ethos. He respected his elders, but he wasn't going to be held down by them. As I wrote, he grew frustrated with the music industry, where, as he put it, selling a million units was still seen as a failure. He wrote songs openly contemptuous of the corporate culture that was stifling pop music's creative impulses. Some have suggested that the relative failure of his Last DJ album was an act of revenge by his label that didn't vigorously promote it, and corporate radio that didn't play it. Undaunted, he kept performing to sold out arenas and recorded the music he believed in. Always, we must remember that Tom Petty was a man. He had his ups and downs and personal issues. He was a father and a grandfather, who was looking forward to cutting back on touring to spend time with his family. His last tour ended just this past week, and he figured it would be the last major run around the concert circuit he would take. That he wouldn't have that time to enjoy the fruits of his labor, and the things that really matter in this life, is the saddest part of his death two days ago at age 66. I don't know what Tom Petty's religious views were, but amid the very confused press coverage on the day he died, there was a report that a hospital chaplain was called to his bedside. He was unconscious, by all accounts, but that those close to him thought that this was something he would want is a great comfort to me. I was angry because, as I wrote, the various press outlets, in their haste to want to get the scoop, reported prematurely that he had died. Amid the fake news I hope that this little detail was true. Thomas Earl Petty October 20, 1950 - October 2, 2017 Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul, and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, pest in peace. AMEN
This weekend we celebrate Labor Day, a civil holiday that traditionally marks the unofficial end of summer. Some schools haven’t started their new year yet, and many families are taking one last opportunity to enjoy a camping trip or visit to the beach, as well as getting in one last summer cookout. The point of this observance is to remember that while work is important and good, we should also take time to enjoy the fruits of our labor. For the Christian work is a way that we use our talents and abilities to support our families and to promote the common good of society. Work is a part of God's plan for humanity from the beginning. The Book of Genesis tells us that God didn’t permit the rain to fall until there were humans to till the earth. But Labor Day, much like the Sunday rest we are called to every week, is a reminder that we are called to work, but not be slaves. God created us free people. We are to work hard, but we need to always remember why we work. We work to cooperate with God, who calls us to be stewards of the earth. We work to develop our God given talents for the good of ourselves, our neighbor and society. When we become obsessed with money or things we can either work constantly, neglecting our family and our faith life. On the other side, if we are a business owner or a “boss,” we can exploit workers, forcing them to work on Sundays, for instance, making them have to choose between their legitimate responsibility to support their families and their responsibility to adore God on Sundays. I hope all of you are enjoying your Labor Day weekend. As we observe this civil holiday, may we remember the value of work, and also the importance of taking the time to honor God and enjoying the blessings we have received.
Both these letters, that already appeared in the parish bulletin, are related, so I'm publishing them here together. Sorry for posting them late. August 20th: In the month of August we celebrate three feasts that remind us of the Resurrection of the Lord, and the life of the world to come. The first is the Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord, on August 6, the other two focus on our Blessed Mother; the Assumption on the 15th and the Queenship of Mary a week later on the 22nd. They are reminders to us that the world as we know it is passing away, and that we need to keep our eyes focused the things that last. The feast of the Transfiguration recalls the time that Jesus took Peter, James and John up a tall mountain and revealed himself to them in his glory. He did this to reassure them during a difficult moment. Jesus had told the twelve that he was to go to Jerusalem, be handed over to the authorities and be killed, but on the third day he would rise again. The Apostles didn’t understand what he was saying: they understood death, but the idea of rising again was confusing. When Jesus appeared in his glory, with Moses and Elijah by his side, it was sign that he was the fulfillment of the Old Testament promises, and that his death on the cross would lead to the glory of the resurrection. In the Assumption of Mary on August 15, we remember that Mary was assumed body and soul into heaven, when the course of her earthly life had come to an end. She heard the world of God and lived it day after day, being obedient to God’s plan for her. She said yes to God’s call to be mother of the Redeemer. Just as she was freed from the guilt and consequences of original sin from the moment of her conception, God preserved her from the decay of the tomb. In both of these great graces Mary is a sign of the future resurrection we will all share in. On August 22 we celebrate the Queenship of Mary, when our Blessed Mother was crowned Queen of Heaven.
In these three feasts we are reminded that our destiny is heaven. We pass through trials and tribulation now. We all, one way or another, carry a cross of suffering. It may be family troubles that we are burdened with, or may be some addiction. We may have to live with uncertainties at work. We may have to struggle with illness, be it our own or of a loved one. We are all called to be concerned with the causes of peace and justice, understanding that we have been given to world to care for and protect. But we shouldn’t be discouraged. We have our part to play, but we are only a part of the solution. These struggles will go on long after we are gone. But when we do face God at our judgment he will ask us how we worked to spread his Kingdom of love and peace: not if we completed the task, but did we leave the world a better place than we found it? It is then that we will enter paradise, sharing the glory of Christ gained for us by his passion and death. August 27th: Last week I wrote about three recent feasts that point us to the reality of the resurrection. Recently I noticed that in August we also celebrate a number of martyrs, and I’d like to share a reflection on Christian martyrdom with you now. A martyr is a witness to Christ. While there are many ways we can witness to our faith, martyrs surrender their life rather than deny Christ. Two of the feasts remember martyrs from the early Church, and two commemorate martyrs from the last century. In both cases these Christian witnesses were victims of brutal political systems that believed that the Gospel of Jesus was a threat to their power. Pope St. Sixtus II (August 7) and St. Lawrence the deacon (August 10) were killed by Roman authorities. St. Sixtus, along with four deacons, was beheaded while he offered the Eucharist in the catacombs of Rome. Three days later St. Lawrence was famously roasted to death over a grill after a life of caring for the needs of the poor. St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, whose birth name was Edith Stein (August 9) and Maximillian Kolbe (August 14) both died in Nazi concentration camps during World War II. What all these martyrs have in common is that they could have avoided losing their lives, but chose not to. Pope Sixtus could have hid or escaped the persecution, but instead he went to where the authorities knew he would be, celebrating the Mass, which was forbidden by law. Lawrence could have handed over the sacred chalices and other religious objects, but instead he sold them, giving the money to the poor. When asked to hand over the “treasure of the Church,” Lawrence presented the Roman official with the poor and homeless who had gathered with him. Edith Stein could have used her status as a Carmelite nun to win her freedom from the concentration camp, but chose to stay with her people: a Jew who died witnessing for Christ. Maximilian Kolbe, a Franciscan friar, could have minded his own business, but instead volunteered to take the place of a condemned man, since that man had a wife and family. Each in their own way did not avoid the trial the Lord presented them with, but faced hate with the greatest love of all. We must always remember that we should never seek out martyrdom. It is also true that no one has to die a martyr. If it can be avoided, then we should avoid it. But if we are faced with a situation where avoiding martyrdom would mean publicly denying Jesus, then we should ask for the grace to accept it. Christian martyrdom means accepting violence and hatred, not inflicting it. Someone who kills himself and others in the name of God isn’t a martyr. But the one, who out of love, surrenders his or her life rather than denying the faith is an example for all of us.
It was only in 2015 that our nation concluded its four year observance of the 150th anniversary of the Civil War. While I didn't follow the progression of battle anniversaries with any particular devotion, it was hard for me to remain totally oblivious. One of my Salesian confrere is a Civil War reenactor, complete with officer's uniform, a military hat with plumage and a set of 19th century vestments that he uses while celebrating Mass for the "troops." He even has a sword. (He represents the Union army, in case you're wondering). He didn't get to all the battlefields for their respective commemorations, but it was kind of fun following his comings and goings via Facebook. When he's not ministering to the sons of the Army of the Potomac, he goes to schools, in full regalia, to give a presentation to the children. He even got a few of his fellow reenactors to come to our high school in New York to stage a little skirmish in the parking lot one time. This intense interest in the Civil War may seem like an obsession to some, but Fr. Dave isn't alone in his fascination with this bloodiest of American wars. I've known many men who have made themselves amateur historians on the conflict (I'm sure there are some women too, but I haven't run into any). They can tell you, in detail, the state and county of origin of particular regiments, the movements of the armies, troop strengths, commanding officers, strategies employed and maneuvers that failed, along with casualty numbers, and they often go off on rather detailed narratives of the events. The best ones can fool you into thinking that they were really there, at Manassas, at Antietam, at Gettysburg, during the heat of battle, their command of the information is so great. This dedication to keeping alive the memory of a conflict is only rivaled by some people's interest in World War II. But war was a "simpler" thing in the 1860's. It's much harder, to say the least, to reenact the Battle of Midway, or the D-Day landings than it is to re-stage Pickett's Charge. Getting your hands on a Civil War period rifle isn't easy, but I defy you to get your hands on a Higgins Boat and a couple of aircraft carriers, and then get yourself half way around the world to where the battles were fought. The Civil War was fought right in the continental United States, using technology that can be more easily reproduced or refurbished and obtained. What's more it was a war between American, and the bromide that it was a matter of brother against brother is true. It changed forever how the U.S. views itself. As was pointed out in Ken Burns' land mark documentary, prior to the war people would say, "the United States are," and after we say "the United States is." In other words, it settled the question as to where a citizen's primary loyalty should be directed - to their state or to the Federal Government (or, so it seems). The fact that this was a family war, fought in localities within driving distance to most people in the eastern part of the country; that we can walk the fields where so many lost their lives, and relive, even if in a shadowy way, the events of that time, only increases the sense of intimacy and urgency that devotees feel toward the conflict. In spite of the war ending in 1865, the argument continues, though, as to why the war was fought. As was the case with every good school boy growing up the Northeast in the 1970's, I was taught that it was a war to free the slaves. We were taught not to despise Robert E. Lee, in particular, and while I can't say that the Confederacy was portrayed as evil, they were clearly on the wrong side, defending the evil, oppressive institution of slavery. It was also the time when the TV mini-series Roots appeared on ABC, depicting the horrors of slavery, from capture in Africa, through the Middle Passage and onto the the plantations. It was required viewing for students of all ages. By today's standard it's pretty tame stuff, but in 1977 it was considered shocking. It too pretty much followed the narrative that the war was about freeing slaves. As I don't need to say, most historians today dispute this interpretation of events. They will say that the North was fighting to preserve the Union, and the South was fighting to protect the sovereign rights of the individual states against federal incursion. Lincoln, far from being a die hard abolitionist, said that if liberating the slaves would hold the Union together, he's do it, but if keeping slavery legal accomplished the same ends, he's do that. And if a solution came around that set some slaves free and kept others in bondage, he's go for that, too. On the Confederate side, most people didn't own slaves, and didn't necessarily see it as an issue, apart from the notion that they were Virginians, Alabamans or Georgians first, and the central government needed to stop meddling in the internal affairs of the states. As the most famous, and articulate, amateur historian of the war, the late Shelby Foote, put it, the attitude of the average Confederate soldier toward his Unionist counterpart was, "I'm fighting, because you're down here." I have always had a problem with the "slavery had nothing to do with the Civil War" argument that I sometimes hear (and yes, some people, some otherwise pretty smart people, do speak that way). It's not because it contradicts the narrative of my youth, but that it flies in the face certain realities. Some of the southern states had tried to secede during the time of Andrew Jackson over protective tariffs that hurt their cotton trade with Europe. That movement never really got anywhere. In giving it's reasons for secession in December of 1860, South Carolina's declaration did indeed discuss state's rights, but always in the light of the slave issue. The problem, rooted in slavery's inherent contradiction with the Declaration of Independents' claim the all men are created equal, imbued with certain inalienable rights, particularly life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, had been kicked down the road since the nation's founding. There had been legislative compromises, Supreme Court decisions and even de facto civil wars in the territories leading up to the conflict - all revolving around slavery. Abolitionist John Brown's failed 1859 raid on Harper's Ferry, to steal weapons meant to arm slaves for a rebellion, polarized the country and set the South on edge, convincing many that civil war was inevitable. Yes, the Confederacy appealed to the principle of states rights in making their case for secession, but they weren't citing some vague notions about federal tariffs or over regulation to justify their course of action. It was that their rights to "private property," in the form of human beings held in bondage, was being endangered by the federal government. To say that slavery had nothing to do with the Civil War is sort of like saying a person's cancer had nothing to do with his demise because the death certificate says that he died of septic shock. Well, he wouldn't have gone into shock if he hadn't had cancer, and I doubt the southern states would have been so motivated to secession if slavery, and the immediate economic implications of its abolition, hadn't been in play. What I'm saying is that this is a complicated issue, and as the aforementioned Shelby Foote also said, it's just as foolish to say that slavery had everything to do with the Civil War as it is to say it had nothing to do with it. The world isn't that simple. Here we are, a century and a half later, still fighting over the legacy of the war, what it's symbols mean, and even the nature of what the Union is, and if secession is possible. At the same time progressives are now calling for the removal and destruction of Confederate monuments, and the permanent banishing of the Confederate Battle Flag, others, particularly in California, are calling for secession in light of the election of President Trump. Ironically, these activists are at once condemning the Confederacy while at the same time some in their ranks are seeking to follow the Old South's goals of separation from the federal government. These are, as I've already stated, complicated questions. I agree with those who think that we are in the process of foolishly erasing our history, and we shouldn't be so quick to want to tear down statues and deface monuments. But just as we have to make an honest assessment as to what the causes of the Civil War were, we also have to understand what the symbols of that war meant at the time, and how they may have been later appropriated in such a way as to render them unusable. We are still fighting the American Civil War because, just as the problem of slavery was kicked down the road prior to the war, the process of reconciliation, integration and reparation after the war was botched. On these questions I will opine the next time out
There are many joys and blessings I experience as a priest. From baptizing babies to officiating at weddings the Lord has allowed me to share in special moments of grace in the lives of the families we serve. In the Sacrament of Reconciliation I help reunite a wounded soul with Christ. Even funerals, as sad as they are, allow me to comfort and reassure people who are passing through a dark time, to let them know that the grave is not the end, that Jesus holds out for us the promise of eternal life. But there is one service I and the other Salesians here perform that I find hard to take comfort in, or find joy. It is when we have to offer the funeral rites for a young person killed on the streets of our community. To have to stand by the grave of a 20 or 21 year old, and see the tears of his or her mother, and hear her screams cuts me through my heart. Sometimes the victims are gang members. Sometimes they are friends who get caught in the middle of a dispute. Sometimes, like a young man who I buried out of St. Philomena’s last year, was just walking home from work, targeted for no reason in particular. Being off the street doesn't always insure our safety. We have all read about children and others who are shot by stray bullets while sitting at home. While we live in one of the safer neighborhoods of Chicago we are not immune from this scourge. I find no comfort in the idea that we do fewer of these types of funerals than other parishes. The bitterness of the tears and the sting of a mother’s cries doesn't allow me that consolation. I write this sobering message this week, because as we begin our new catechetical year I would like us to reflect a bit as a community. How are we already helping to form our young people to value life? How are we already instilling in them, both at home and in our parish, the values of respect for others and the need to resolve conflicts peacefully? How are showing them that the life of the gangs leads to death, and that there is another way to live? We need to reflect on how we are doing these things now, and how can we do them better in the future. Cardinal Cupich has recently begun an anti-violence campaign for the archdiocese. Much like we have made great strides in organizing Pro-Life and Pastoral Migratoria initiatives in the parish, we need to join with the Cardinal in his efforts to offer a faith filled response to the problem of street violence we face. I will be speaking with members of the community about forming a new ant-violence group in the parish. We should not think that this is a South Side problem. I know first hand that it isn't. But united in Christ, I have confidence that we can make a difference, and maybe we can keep one more mother from mourning her child.
British soldiers at Dunkirk - Hoping for the best, expecting the worst.
Wonder Woman and her band of brothers
I recently saw the new movie Dunkirk, and earlier in the summer I caught Wonder Woman. Both movies got me thinking about war movies in general, and couple in particular from twenty years ago. Two war movies released in 1998 forever changed the genre in their depictions of the violence, chaos and moral ambiguities of combat. Both set during World War II, Steven Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan and, to a lesser extent, Terrence Malick's Thin Red Line offered sober meditations on the impact of battle on the minds, souls and bodies of the men who were sent to fight. Private Ryan is graphic in its depiction of severed limbs and disemboweled soldiers (I heard stories at the time of D-Day veterans walking out of the theater during the first 20 minutes because the depiction of the Omaha Beach landings hit too close to home), while Thin Red Line focused on the spiritual cost of war, and the corroding loss of both personal and cosmic innocence it brings. Much like Mel Gibson's Passion of the Christ permanently effected how we judge filmed lives of Jesus, these two movies are the contemporary gold standard of war films. Both films pull off a difficult trick: they honor the men who fought, while showing war as an ugly, senseless experience, stripping battle of the glorious romance with which Hollywood often can't help but paint combat. Thin Red Line, based on a James Jones novel, is more openly contemptuous of military leaders and shows how war turns otherwise average, decent men into amoral killers capable of pulling the gold fillings out of an injured belligerent's mouth while he's still alive. Private Ryan only hints at these things, choosing to use the impact of bullets and shells on flesh and bone to drive home war's dehumanizing effect. At this point you may be asking, "What does all this have to do with Dunkirk and, especially, Wonder Woman?" Even without taking into account the cultural impact of the earlier film, It was hard for me to watch Dunkirk and not make comparison's to Private Ryan: both films deal with soldiers trapped on a beach during World War II (though Spielberg's film does eventually break free of the coastline). Both stories are told mainly from the stand point of the "grunt" soldiers who actually shed blood. Both filter historical events through the eyes of fictional characters meant to represent the experiences of the millions who served. Both were filmed in muted, under-saturated color tones which adds to the bleakness of their respective situations - and in Private Ryan's case blunts the excessive gore a bit. But while Dunkirk easily lends itself to surface comparisons with Private Ryan, a closer look also reveals similarities to Thin Red Line. Though Dunkirk runs at a compact 106 minutes compared to Malick's film that sprawls itself over more than 2 and a half hours, it's sparse dialogue and extended silences, much like the earlier movie, lends itself to a more meditative viewing. We see heroism, for sure, but we also see men under pressure, turning on each other as well as their allies. We see desperate men willing to pull any trick they can to get on a boat home. Though the futility of war and the incompetence of the men who run the high command isn't on full display as it is in Thin Red Line, there is frustration felt because of the catch-22 the leaders are trapped in. They don't commit the full force of the navy or air force to the evacuation because they need to prepare for the defense of the home island, yet no significant defense can be mounted without the 400,000 soldiers trapped on the beaches of northers France. Director Christopher Nolan cuts a thin line of his own in how he tells his story. While his film lacks the ultra violence of Spielberg's, it is presented in a realistic style, unlike Malick who used extended static shots to capture the natural beauty of his South Pacific setting, creating an allegory of the Western war machine despoiling the original innocence of the native peoples. That being said, Nolan does use cinematic tricks like playing with the timeline, following three different sets of characters, one group over the course of a week, the other covering a day, and lastly over an hour. We cut back and forth, and events over lap and finally converge, and what could have been confusing in the hands of a lesser film maker is executed perfectly by Nolan. He also utilizes sound quite effectively, differentiating between the noises made by British and "enemy" aircraft to communicate both reassurance or dread as is needed. He also mixes mechanical sounds with music to heighten the sense of menace. He's not presenting an allegory, nor does the film deal in symbols, but Nolan's sparse script makes him utilize other methods of communicating the desperation and horror of the situation the British soldiers find themselves in. I've always been fairly critical of Christopher Nolan's work because I think his ideas aren't nearly as profound as his supporters would have us believe. That the man knows what he's doing with a camera and in the editing room is unquestioned. That he is a master of special effects is also true. I just don't think that films like Inception or Interstellar are as deep as some claim, even if they are undeniably well made, and at times truly thrilling. As for a message, I'm not sure exactly what Nolan is saying here (more on that in due time). All I can say right now is that he made an historical drama, set very much in the real world, when he works mainly in science fiction and super hero fantasy, and pulls it off convincingly. Dunkirk clearly shows the depth of his talent. I will admit that I wasn't thinking of the two 1998 films detailed above while watching Wonder Woman, but after seeing and reflecting on Dunkirk, my mind began thinking of this other film as well, and comparisons to both Private Ryan and Thin Red Line came to me. Wonder Woman is correctly categorized as a comic book movie, but beneath that beats heart a war drama. The film makers transplant the story from the World War II of it's comic book origins to the First World War, for reasons that are not completely clear. It could be that the Second World War has the stench of genocide hanging over it. No matter how hard revisionists try to indite the allied nations of war crimes for the fire bombings of Dresden and Tokyo, not to mention the atomic bombs dropped on Japan, Nazi Germany and the Empire of Japan were the clear aggressors in a war of empire building. The Nazi's guilty of horrors beyond imagining. The plot of Wonder Woman depends of the idea that there really aren't "good guys" or "bad guys," just fallen humanity trapped in a cycle of violence that needs to be broken. It's possible to make this argument with World War I, a conflict whose causes are as mysterious as the origin of Melchizedek of old. We think of the Germans as the enemy because they were our enemy, and they lost. But the Germany of the Kaiser wasn't the Third Reich of Hitler, and trying to make his regime look misguided but well intentioned would be rightly mocked.
In Wonder Woman, much like in Thin Red Line, we have a central character who sees the world with wide eyed wonder. In the older film it's the army private played by Jim Caviezel who observes the innocence of the native South Sea Islanders and the unspoiled nature of their homeland, and through it perceives that there is a deeper reality at work: a spiritual reality that is enduring, if fragile. In Wonder Woman, Diana has spent her life isolated on a mythic island and knows of human nature from books. Her experience of war and violence is the controlled environment of the training ground. When she leaves her native paradise she is at once captivated by what she sees and repulsed by the pollution and squalor, the byproducts of human progress. As she moves closer to the real fighting she sees the consequences of war for the first time: the maimed and the dead, the refugees displaced from their homes. Once she actually engages in fighting she sees first hand the random, uncontrollable brutality of war. Wonder Woman may be a comic book fantasy, but in some ways it makes deeper observations than Dunkirk. Diana is forced to grow, to shed her idealistic, black and white world view. At the same time she doesn't give in to cynicism. She sees humanity's flaws, yet recognizes its divine potentiality. She is faced by a personified evil in the form of the god Ares, but comes to understand that, much like Satan, he only sets the scene, manipulates the situation, whispers in our ears, but in the end it is men and women who make their free choice for good or bad. And taking him out of the equation, while helpful, doesn't always insure that we will make the right decision. Dunkirk, like Private Ryan, is more concerned with the men on the ground doing the fighting and the dying than it is with the big picture of the war or deep philosophical questions (though, in fairness, Spielberg does pepper his film with moral dilemmas). It is a salute to the soldiers, and even more so to the everyday private citizens who came to their rescue at great risk to their own lives. As I mentioned before, it's not an idealized picture: these men are human and at times crack under pressure. In the end Dunkirk shows how a nation united can overcome great adversity. Though muted, it is a great patriotic film that almost makes me sad not to be British. In spite of a very enthusiastic recommendation, like just about all of the Christopher Nolan films I've seen, it left me feeling like something was missing. As I was watching the film I couldn't help but thinking that if an audience member knows nothing about the Dunkirk evacuation, they would be very confused. We are dropped onto the beach at the beginning with very little preparation and almost no exposition. The Nazi forces are only referred to as "the enemy," and that they are Germans is only mentioned during a xenophobic tirade by one of the British soldiers. They are only seen at the end, and then in out of focus shadows. Hints are made about fighting for the survival of the civilized world, but otherwise the stakes build down to the survival of the men pined down on the beach. The characters are never really developed, so I cared because I knew what was going on, not because of any emotional investment in the individual soldiers. My cynical side tells me that they want to be able to sell this movie in Germany, so going too heavy into some pro British jingoistic schmalz would be bad for the Teutonic box-office. More likely we have a case of political correctness, that doesn't believe in drawing moral distinctions between combatants: we're both good, and are both also guilty of atrocities big or small, so we shouldn't demonize the enemy. I think this approach can be validly taken in many situations, like in the case of Wonder Woman. World War I was a failure of both sides. While the Allies in WWII were guilty of atrocities (we shouldn't fool ourselves), to not recognize that the differences between the Allies and the Axis were not just a matter of degrees but essence is moral blindness. It's true that not every German soldier was a genocidal maniac, but, knowingly or not, he was fighting to expand the interest of an imperialistic genocidal maniac. If you can't demonize a demon, the culture is really lost. I don't want to leave you all with the idea that I didn't like Dunkirk or thought that Wonder Woman is a better film. These are two different movies, with two different target audiences (lets just say that I was one of the youngest audience members for Dunkirk, and one of the oldest ones for Wonder Woman). While Dunkirk is the better technical and aesthetic exercise, in someways Wonder Woman asks the deeper questions. Both, in their own ways, follows in the tradition of Saving Private Ryan and Thin Red Line, in presenting the horrors and ambiguities of war while honoring the men and women who served.
