Avatar (2009)

More Art, Less Matter


It would be difficult to miss the hoopla surrounding the new James Cameron feature. The man who re-sunk the Titanic, creating as much buzz as the original trans-Atlantic tragedy, has delivered his chef d’oeuvre: “Avatar” – a vast science fiction epic using the latest and greatest special effects money can buy. And money certainly was spent: $300 million production cost sans advertising. This is ironic, as the era of the HUGE budget special effects feature seemed to be heading the way of the Soap Opera. The success of “Paranormal Activity”, which was produced for less than $100,000 and grossed $150 million, seems to signal the future of the film business. The traditional movie theater is becoming as anachronistic as a newspaper.

It is hard to imagine a studio chief “green lighting” this budget-busting project in light of overall box-office carnage due to the endless small screen entertainment alternatives. The same executives employed this strategy in the 1950s with the advent of another small screen: the television. That decade saw the heretofore-static movie house “improved” with wondrous innovations such as growing screens (cinema-scope, cinarama) and outdoor settings (the studios got behind the Drive-In). There was also the development 3-Dimensional films. Well past is present: Mr. Cameron’s brave new world is delivered in a highly specialized updated version of: 3 D. (Note: I saw the 2 D version). Bigger wasn’t better. Cinamax, a technology rooted in these 1950s innovations, has had some lasting success but it’s impact on the “average” movie theater experience has been negligible. “The plays the thing” would be closer to what has traditionally drawn people to the boxoffice. Good writing, acting and directing ALWAYS trumps technology.

Cameron’s “Avatar” is very impressive. Even in the traditional format the experience is extraordinary. This is a magical world; unfortunately it fails to be a magical film. The disconnect lies in Cameron’s visionary lack of vision in understanding his own strength. This director’s best work “Aliens” and “The Terminator” exhibit co-screenwriter credits. But when the director assumes total control of the screenplay the results are “The Abyss” and “The Titanic”. Cameron should take a cue from Ridley Scott, who directed both “Bladerunner” and “Alien”. These works are the most influential sci-fi blockbusters of the latter half of the 20 century. Scott never pretended to be a writer. He focused his abilities on telling the story in a fashion that literally set standards for decades after the films’ debuts. Ironically Cameron’s sequel to Scott’s “Aliens” is a stronger film… but not as groundbreaking. Cameron egotistical need to be a self-contained “auteur” has weakened the impact of his work. Ironically the mega-hit “The Titanic” assured the money-men that Cameron could handle the task of writing and well as directing. It’s a dangerous thing for artists to judge the impact of their work merely by initial box-office reaction. “Kung Fu Panda” was the third highest grossing feature in 2008…. it is doubtful a sentient mammal would consider it the third best film.

“Avatar”’s story centers around a paraplegic soldier who steps in for his older brother, a scientist, on a complex mission where he will inhabit the body of an alien. The basic idea revolves around identity. Cameron deserves praise for having a wheelchair-bound protagonist. This is certainly a first for the sci-fi action adventure genre. Kudos as well for giving the self-discovery narrative a new dimension: IN ADDITION to wrestling with the ghost of his brother he is finding his way as an alien in another culture. Great start. Unfortunately Cameron’s mastery of spectacle cannibalizes character and storyline. His other world is very familiar in an unintentional way: the multi-million dollar landscape is chockablock with airport novel heroes who would seem more at home on daytime TV. There are the valiant magical colored people attacking evil big-business. The tough kind-hearted female scientist pitched against the ruthless bloodthirsty commander who in turn answers to the feckless corporate lackey. Cameron tries to gloss over the thin dramatic structure by throwing in a few one-liners indicating he honestly believes he’s making a parable about current politics. Anyone old enough to buy a pack of cigarettes would see the irony of a major studio insider spending hundreds of millions to launch a crunchy pro-luddite anti-corporate screed. In listening to him on the promotional tours it would seem he is sincere in believing he is a thinker and a writer. “Avatar” proves otherwise. There was an air of bragging in his revelation that it only took him 3 weeks to create the script. Given the final product, 2 days would have been sufficient (without an all-nighter). A major plot point, greedy anti-environmental interest attacking the sacred holy tree where the good guys live, appears in Wes Anderson’s “The Fabulous Mr. Fox”. Perhaps Cameron was inspired by the source material for Anderson’s work – a Roahld Dahl novel. Actually this in unlikely as Dahl and Anderson seem to possess something completely absent from Cameron’s epic – a sense of humor.

Cameron is a virtuoso with the tech – it is easy to be stricken with vertigo on the mountainscapes or be wowed by the realism of the invented language of the alien race – created by a PhD in linguistics especially for this project. The father of the new tongue was on set, and available to the actors settle questions of grammar and syntax. One wonders if the father of “Avatar” was jealous? There were probably other experts paid vast sums: anthropologists, botanists, programmers, architects, product designers…. How unfortunate the master of the Universe failed to hire a script doctor…. Or an editor. His baby wails for nearly 3 hours. One can feel that it took nearly 15 years for Cameron to bring his creation to the screen, post his 3 weeks of banging out the script. He suffered for his baby – and now you’re gonna. In the end there is a parable unfolding: Great powerful men conspiring to spend vast sums to re-conquer a lost audience. They are employing failed strategies from mid-century. “Shower them the most expensive interconnected, computer-driven extravaganza since Ben Hur!!!!!!” The audience has a limited attention span and is glued to their mini-phone screens. No matter – “stuff the movie houses with a 180 minutes of slicker versions of their video game heroes!!!!!!!” Unfortunately the targets are at home hiding behind their Avatars in a world of their own creation. When will middle-aged men understand that you can’t conquer the world by shock and awe?

Star Trek (2009)

To Boldly Go....


The genius of the original series lay in it's ability to play with
issues of the day while fooling you into thinking you were merely
watching a sci-fi adventure. The commentary on race relations,
Vietnam, hippie movement, battle of sexes... all raged with the
relative safety of being in "the final frontier". Star Trek (the
movie) went where other Trek movies never went before - it was
exciting and entertaining but it left me feeling abit, well, yearning
for the zeitgeist of the original program. There was an unmistakable
pop seriousness in the TV series that went beyond mere legend and
parable. I see what you mean in terms of bringing a "Star Wars"
sensibility to the endeavor. This film was wrapped in the kind of
Arthurian, ancient tales and myths of coming of age and understanding
fate and family.... that fit nicely in the Lukas' framework. But
Rodenberry was a cop, not a mere bed-time storyteller. He wanted it
to be more than fable - he wanted you to look out your window, or at
your neighbor, or at the President, or Iraq, or Darfur, or global
warming... and think STAR TREK. I can only imagine him turning in his
grave with a film that celebrates Cowboy sensibility in the post-Bush
era. I also thought there was too much overt tribute to Star Wars -
Scotty's little green friend, the death star, the sword fight, the
escape from the monsters on the cold planet.... Kirk isn't
Skywalker... but having said all this I must confess to thinking it
the best Trek feature - but maybe that says more about the other
efforts than this one...

PS - I don't think Spock looked 137 - I'd say 326.... glad he didnt
have any accidents on the set.

Richie Havens 2009 performance in Barre Vermont

Back to the Garden

Richie Havens opened Woodstock 40 years ago screaming “Freedom”. That voice epitomized the zeitgeist of a generation where people saw the possibility of up-ending the established order. As Mr. Dylan reminded us back then; “The times they are a-changin’”. And nothing changes faster than those on the cutting edge who come to represent their time. There is a sense of awkwardness in hearing the contemporary Bob Dylan, even though he recently became one of the oldest performers to score a number one hit single. He seems to have morphed into a curmudgeon superstar with a social agenda that sits hazily in the background. He shields himself from being a “sell out” by professing he never really “bought in”. Your problem with Bob is YOUR problem – not his. Havens, on the other hand, has a genuine aura of someone who has dedicated himself to the “counter-culture”. This sounds odd given that Havens was for a time the voice of Amtrak: “Climb Aboard America!”. The spirit of the ‘60s was one of embracing individualism while adopting a communal sense of the greater good. Putting politics and history aside – Havens, the performer, embodies the best of what is meant by being “a hippie”.

It was a few degrees below zero when I entered the Barre Opera house to see the show. The crowd was a mixture of aging hippies, farmers, business people and Vermont “folk”. I was seated in back of the handicapped section and I wondered what the elderly woman was doing during Havens’ famous performance on Max Yasgur’s farm. Something told me that she would have had more in common with the New York dairy farmer than the young African American folkie from Brooklyn. But never the less here we all were – 40 years later. Havens came on stage with a very proficient accompanist Walter Parks – Havens provided the voice and percussive strumming while Parks gave the perfect solos and fill. Havens, at 68, is a towering bald presence with a grey beard which rests gently over his African or Indian tunic – he wore a brown version in ’69. Despite this sounding scruffy and exotic the whole outfit fits him as a grand presence – someone you would take note of in public as being dignified and important. You would never notice his stage partner. Parks, a quiet white hipster, is technically brilliant but there is no mistaking the main attraction – akin to Maury Muehleisen's performances with Jim Croce…. Walter knows that everyone is there to see Richie no matter how much guitar pyrotechnics he performs – but he also is aware that Richie appreciates his ability and doesn’t see him as anything less than himself. I read nothing about these two together – their relationship is revealed in the duets and body language. There is an easy effortlessness to their interactions, which speaks of something more than professionalism amongst colleagues – more akin to master craftsmen at their trade.

That voice. If you read the transcripts of Havens stage patter it would seem incoherent, random and rambling. It might be all those things but the delivery converts the banter into a soothing, restful parable. The stories are disjointed but they seem to rest on the idea that Mr. Havens is celebrating every moment of life and his warm exuberance is all encompassing. There were stories about children, his family, other folkies, aging, dying, living – but all incorporated in the warm fabric of his voice. One has the temptation of leaning back and closing your eyes – not in boredom – just a restful respite. The stage talk fits in with the music. Havens’ strong rumbling guitar has two modes: preaching “truth to power” or caressing like a lover. He can alternate moods with a flick of the wrist – unlike most popular entertainers, he has been at this for a lifetime. Walter is in the background giving the right chord or solo. His consummate studied approach blends perfectly with Haven’s strange thumb figuring bar chords (most players use the pointer finger) and quasi-slide approach to positioning the instrument on his lap – he has BOTH an upper and lower fret-board surrounding the guitar’s sound hole as he frantically strums at a 45 degree angle. The combo is a visual representation of the importance of formal training and street smarts – the sound has an exhilarating cry that has a heart in addition to a head.

Mr. Havens quietly smiles; unlike at Woodstock he now has teeth. He looks out into an audience of cold, very uncool, rural white Vermonters and says: “I’m happy to be here. At this point I’m happy to be anywhere. And we (referring to Walter as well) know that if you weren’t there. We wouldn’t be here”. Within seconds everyone is one their feet cheering on the bearded man with the weird guitar. You might not know what he means – but he means it. In these troubled times it is easy to look back at the sixties’ idealism with scorn. Mr. Havens gentle, firm resilience stands as an answer to Elvis Costello’s song-question “What’s so funny ‘bout peace love and understanding?” The contemporary Mr. Dylan might say “Maybe peace, love and understanding are silly”. Mr. Havens, however, holds firm. When he greets you by saying “peace” you know, as everyone did in Barre, that he really means it.

Harvey Milk (2009)

Milktoast Heroes

My grandmother was born when women were forbidden to vote. I was born when African Americans were legally segregated and exploited. I was a seven years old when the gay community put its foot down at Stonewall. As a middle-aged American I can say, borrowing the tag line from the first smokes broadly marketed to young women: “You’ve come a long way, baby”. Harvey Milk is a name most likely remembered by the same people who can recall “Virginia Slims” cigarettes. It’s unfortunate that Mr. Milk has fallen into obscurity. My theory is that the timing of his assassination unfortunately coincided with one of the most disquieting events in 20th Century American history. Milk was murdered on Nov. 27th 1978. Jim Jones orchestrated the Jonestown massacre on Nov. 18 the same year. To give you an idea the impact the mass suicide had on the news cycle I would note that the Dec. 4 issue of Newsweek featured a cover “special report” on “the cult of death”. Harvey was being pushed out of history before his ashes were scattered.

There is much carping about matching the struggle of the gay rights movement with the battles of the mainstream civil rights advocates. A cursory viewing of the actual black and white film footage of police raids on gay bars, which appears during the opening credits of the feature film “MILK” should put to rest any notion that this movement lacked legitimacy. The pathos of these images is strong enough that only the most hardened bigot would fail to see the inhumanity. There is no doubt that Mr. Milk should be placed alongside Malcolm X and other easily recognizable martyrs for human rights. Mr. Van Sant made the film to correct the record and give Harvey is rightful place in the mainstream collective consciousness of good men fighting for a good cause. Unfortunately the film shares the fate of Spike Lee’s bio-pic “X” in that strong performances cannot overcome poor direction and bad writing.

The paradigm American hero is George Washington, a man very, very aware of his place in history. I doubt there are any schoolchildren familiar with the red haired founding father who had no biological children and owed his wealth and standing to marrying a widow. This does not detract from Washington’s accomplishments but it does give a human touch to a personage who coolly gazes up from the one dollar bills (maybe it was the laudanum – you didn’t know?). Young America, still somewhat awed by European aristocracy, adopted the notion that national heroes need to be heroic beyond their recognized accomplishments. “The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin” is chock-a-block with advice on frugality, humility, hard work, honesty… even tips on bathing… Is it any wonder that a century and half latter two young American boys from immigrant families would create the culmination of the George Washington ideal: SUPERMAN. It is unfortunate that Truth, Justice and the American Way gives us little humanity in our pantheon of national heroes. MLK has become tepid… no room for his attitudes regarding economic egalitarianism, his family difficulties or his short-comings as a scholar…. Once again the truth of MLK’s doesn’t detract from his greatness – in fact I would argue the opposite. Just as the lies Samuel L. Jackson repeated in the pre-inauguration ceremony about Rosa Park’s ordinariness take away from this daring activists role as the spark that ignited the conscious of a nation. She certainly did get on the bus to get arrested AND I SAY BRAVO!

Who was Harvey Milk? I’m sure of few things in life but one of them is that he wasn’t the selfless, affable, earnest, edgeless do-gooder depicted in Mr. Van Sant’s work; despite Sean Penn’s efforts. How could he be? The last person I saw who resembled that person was the leading character in the original production of Godspell. There are hints of something more human in the storyline: the failed relationships, the lover’s suicide, the unbridled ambition and, most interestingly, the taped recording “to be played if I am assassinated”. Now here is someone who possesses our Founding Father’s sense of scripting a place in history. His ability to swap a pony-tale for a three piece suit also gave a hint at something darker – it is difficult in the early 21st century to convey the significance of trimming the locks (see David Crosby’s song “Almost Cut My Hair”). It raises an interesting question about degree of compromising involved in winning. The other aspect, glossed over in the film, was Milk’s war on “being closeted”. I don’t know if Harvey actually “outed” someone without their permission but once again the significance of his stance was pummeled over in the TV movie sensibility of keeping our hero on his journey to martyrdom.

In terms of the writing and direction the closing scene post Harvey’s demise sums up the effort: two of his close aids arrive at a city hall remembrance ceremony soon after the assassinations. It is in the foyer of the solemn marble building and it is sparsely attended - one turns to the other "Doesn't anyone care?" - they leave in disgust..... They walk outside and "discover” a candle-lit parade of 30,000 crying mourners. Guess they missed everyone on the way in? Didn’t hear about the march? I don’t remember the scenes where these two aides were cut out of the loop; ditto from them suffering from severe visual or audio impairment. But I guess that’s “artistic license” – just like the stop action of Harvey locking eyes with the poster of Verde Opera woman as he falls (it was soon over after the fat lady sang). The mainstream stereotype of the gay community is a group obsessed with fashion and style. Mainstream television shamelessly plays on this notion in “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy”. It is weird and ironic that “Milk” is so, well, “straight”. This is blandest most mainstream production of an alternative lifestyle you will ever experience (actually there is the movie “Philiadephia”). It is as if the Walt Disney company created a theme park called Queerworld. In short the film was too “straight”.

Aside of the artistic camp there was a more insidious side to the Milk show. The producers decided that they didn’t want to associate the film with the Prop 8 anti-Gay marriage proposal that was circulating in CA at the time of the film’s scheduled release. This was a conscious decision and had nothing to do with production issues. The irony here is that, if one is to believe the film (a dubious choice) the crowning achievement of Milk’s career was his leading the DEFEAT of the anti-Gay workplace proposition brought forth by Anita Byrant. The director noted in an interview “Harvey would have opened it in October”. Well we can hope the producers had some sort of strategy in mind that didn’t involved soft-peddling the very principles of the principle. Maybe they figured if Prop 8 won the film would garner an even larger stage – Sean Penn will win best actor and I’ve no doubt that the film will garner more statues than the competition. It looks like the plan, if that’s what it was, is working. Maybe it’s a tribute to Harvey’s pragmatic side – let’s not consider the alternative.