Straight Outta Compton (2015)

Straight Outta Compton (2015)

The Weakness of Street Knowledge

“Now you’re a pillar of society, you don’t worry about the things that you used to be”

-Respectable, The Rolling Stones

“You’re just money” - Matthew “Scar” Allen spoken to Sean “Puff Daddy” Combs while throwing cash in his face provoking a nightclub shooting incident.

The Rolling Stones sang of street fighting men, mother’s little helpers and sympathy for the devil. The Sex Pistols screamed about abortion, anarchy and nihilism. NWA, Niggaz With Attitude, rapped about their their personal struggles and were more overt in their threats. They were distinct individuals (Easy E, Dr. Dre, Ice Cube, MC Ren and D J Yella ), rather than a cohesive unit. They armored themselves by drawing clearly marked boundaries, instead of simply preaching broad social commentary. “Born to be wild” guns are exploding in your face, rather than into space. Here’s how Ice Cube frames it, “I’m the type of nigga that’s built to last, fuck with me I put my foot in your ass”.  The group’s story is an epic journey of five young African Americans born in violent poverty. They rise though the perils of fast-fame and unscrupulous management and become musical icons ensconced in la dolce vita. It is an anti-Horatio Alger story with operatic moments of high drama amongst dreary clubs and ostentatious displays of wealth. 

F. Gary Gray’s feature, “Straight Outta Compton”, shares the title of the group’s seminal first album, which vividly captured the world of Los Angels’ most infamous ghetto. Unfortunately, despite all the compelling raw material, the film is a meandering two hour and 20 minute showcase of talent bound by constraints of fan expectation and libel law. A thumbnail summary paints the following portraits of the main characters. Dr. Dre and Ice Cube are the artistic power behind the verbal offense. Easy E is the lynchpin organizer with connections and money. M C Ren and DJ Yella are tagging along for the ride. The filmmakers are obsessed with the minutiae of the band’s rise to the top as well as their complicated interpersonal financial relationships. There are countless scenes of specific concert dates combined with endless squabbling about artistic attribution and money. This might be interesting to obsessed fans but does little for a general audience. The artistic shortcomings have not affected the box office It has been the number one film in the country for three weeks running. Not bad for a bio-pic about a decades old music group with only two albums. Younger theater-goers heard their parents praise or curse the original mainstream “gangsta’ rap album. Older audiences are curious about how lived history is remembered. Unfortunately “Straight Outta Compton” never breaks the smallness of gang life and petty rivalry. The filmmakers extend the NWA franchise by marketing violence and bravado as a tonic for oppression. They might have chosen a more nuanced examination of the group within context of a product driven corporate culture. Unfortunately they they saw their role as being executive brand managers. The public wants tormented heroes not exploited victims.

The press conference scene, held after the group secured a record deal, illustrates the conundrum for both the group and those wanting to produce their story. They are not heroes or anit-heroes but confused young men. A reporter asks, “Now that you guys have made it. What are you going to do with your millions?”. There is a rare moment of silence. Finally, after an excruciating pause, “We going to buy more Raiders gear”. The reference is to the silver, black and white football team colors favored by many gangs. (http://www.nytimes.com/1991/02/04/us/raiders-chic-a-style-and-sinister-overtones.html ) As an aside, the owner of that sports franchise selected this motif based on his own limited vision. He was, literally, color blind. The film’s writers and director metaphorically share this defect as the cast oscillates between good and bad. The group, unlike manny of the secondary characters, are uniformly good people. They are tough men caught in brutal situations sticking to their grim artistic oeuvre. The idea that none of NWA's members failed to be sullied by the evil that surrounded them strains credulity.  The issue of the treatment of misogyny is a case in point. The film shows Easy E screaming the lyric “And what about the bitch who got shot, fuck her - you think I give a damn about a bitch? I ain’t a sucker”. It is a moment that quickly passes with little rumination regarding the hateful message. At least the filmmakers raised the issue unlike Dr Dre’s treatment of women. There has been much castigation in the press about the movie’s failure to address three documented attacks. What is less known is MC Ren and Easy E’s approval. They both came to Dre’s defense in the beating of a reporter at a record debut party. MC Ren said “She deserved it - bitch deserved it”. Easy E doubled down “Yeah, bitch had it coming”. The perp himself also weighed in, commenting “Besides, it ain’t no big thing - I just thew her through a door”. Witnesses claim that Dre slammed her against a brick wall and tried to kick her down a flight of stairs while his bodyguard held off the crowd with a gun. (http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/beating-up-the-charts-19910808 ). The filmmakers choice of omission triggers suspicion about other characterizations. 

The LAPD, during the period covered by events in this film, was the poster child for bad community relations. Yet the filmmakers cartoonish portrait undercut any sharing the sentiments expressed in NWA’s anti-cop anthem, “Fuck the Police”. Certainly SOME officers, under Chief Gates’ leadership, were brutal. The problem is the song echoes the disastrous rhetoric of the Chief himself. Gates testified to a Federal Senate Committee in 1990 that “casual drug users should be shot” because “we’re in war” and their behavior is an act of “treason”. ( http://articles.latimes.com/1990-09-06/news/mn-983_1_casual-drug-users ) Two years later the city erupted in the worst inner city riot in modern memory. The film never explores the parallel between the group and the cops. It falls back on the sentimental notion that NWA’s members were basically good, but often misguided. Easy E’s drug dealing is treated as simply a choice for an aspiring business man. There is nothing about him and MC Ren being gang bangers. The fact that Ice Cube favored a dubious music career over supporting his family is also given short shrift. In watching this film one would never suspect that DJ Yella became an important pornographic film director, producing over 300 projects over a decade. None of these things are mentioned. Gray knows that the unvarnished truth would hinder acceptance by mainstream audiences. The credulity of the plot line is based on fan sentiment and the old adage that “history is written by the victors.” Note that the characters who are most financially successful in their post NWA careers are portrayed most favorably in this film fantasy. Dr. Dre and Ice Cube traded flak jackets for high priced flack . 

Ice Cube is pretty clear about his civic responsibilities: “Do I look like a mutha fuckin role model? To a kid lookin' up ta me, Life ain't nothin but bitches and money”. Strangely the actor who portrays him in the film did look up to him as a role model. O’Shea Jackson Jr. is Ice Cube's son. The junior Mr. Jackson ignored the message of the rap lyrics.  He became an extremely talented performer whose years of work guided him to landing the role after a rigorous audition process.  Ice Cube himself also places a premium on stable family values having been married for  nearly two decades. The Jacksons, by their actions, categorically rejects the gangsta lifestyle. Ice Cube and his son are the opposite of nihilistic, drug addled, street heavies. The family has endured the harshness of underclass ghetto life in Compton. Their reaction was to never give in to hopeless idleness.  They became hardworking, disciplined entertainers. Not all are as lucky. Suge Knight, a rap impresario who is featured in the film, is the paradigm gangster. There is a scene in which he corners a nearly naked man with a frothing pit bull, then pistol whips him into submission. This takes place in the offices of his record company while a slew of coke fueled onlookers cheer him on. Mr. Knight felt the portrayal was inaccurate. Events in real life would suggest such actions were in keeping with his behavior. He is now facing murder, as well as attempted murder, charges. He is accused of running over two men with his car while on the set for a promotional video for “Straight Outta Compton.”

Once again it is fascinating to compare those who refuse to abandon ‘street knowledge’ for the middle class mantra of “achievement”. Knight is facing decades in prison while Dre is coordinating his PR team to handle the troublesome fact that he violently assaulted women. “In a sign that the uproar was threatening not only his reputation but also his business dealings, Dr. Dre, who has previously spoken dismissively or vaguely about the decades-old episodes, confronted them on Friday in a statement to The New York Times.” Here is the text:

Twenty-five years ago I was a young man drinking too much and in over my head with no real structure in my life. However, none of this is an excuse for what I did. I’ve been married for 19 years and every day I’m working to be a better man for my family, seeking guidance along the way. I’m doing everything I can so I never resemble that man again. I apologize to the women I’ve hurt. I deeply regret what I did and know that it has forever impacted all of our lives.

-Dr. Dre statement about past violence towards women.

Dre is a high level executive at Apple Corp following their purchase of his head-set company. That transaction netted him hundreds of millions of dollars. The suits at corporate were quick to give a gold star to the new Dre.

“Dre has apologized for the mistakes he’s made in the past and he’s said that he’s not the same person that he was 25 years ago. We believe his sincerity and after working with him for a year and a half, we have every reason to believe that he has changed.”

-Apple Corps response to Dre’s statement

This awkward mea culpa should have been at the heart of “Straight Outta Compton”. The film, however, skirts over all the interesting tension between acceptability and disquieting behavior by the protagonists. In its place is a great deal of parsing the ‘dissing’ between the group brought on by Easy E’s alliance with the white Jewish music manager. Jerry Heller initially brought the group to the attention of mainstream record executives. There are numerous accusation that he was corrupt and drove the group apart. This endless exposition is a dubious dramatic choice.  Imagine a film about the Beatles that dedicates most of its time to dissecting the contract disputes with the manager Allen Klien. This is a well worn story in the music business. You can substitute the group and the manager: Bruce Springsteen and Mike Appel, Billy Joel and Artie Ripp, Credence Clearwater Rival and Saul Zaentz…. Veracity aside, this tired cliche fails to be captivating storytelling.

Strangely the actions of the large labels themselves never fall under any scrutiny. The filmmakers render invisible the central dramatic force of the story. That is the the odd paring of corporate music with drug dealers who sing about killing policeman. Instead they focus their energies on managers and musicians squabbling over scraps. The weird conjoining of thuggery and marketing might have made for interesting scenes. Imagine the group discussing the sanitized lyrics of the radio play versions of their songs. It would be interesting to know who wrote them? Was this delivered from the record company?  Here are examples of the corporate revisions.

Straight outta Compton, crazy motherfucker named Ice Cube

From the gang called Niggaz With Attitudes

When I'm called off, I got a sawed off

Squeeze the trigger, and bodies are hauled off

Straight outta Compton, it's a crazy brotha named Ice Cube

From the stupid-dope gang wit a attitude

When I'm called off, I gotta sawed-off

Kick knowledge and bodies are hauled off

You too, boy, if ya fuck with me

The police are gonna hafta come and get me

Off yo ass, that's how I'm goin out

For the punk motherfuckers that's showin out

Niggaz start to mumble, they wanna rumble

Mix em and cook em in a pot like gumbo

You too boy if you get with me

The police are gonna have to come and get me

Off yo back, that's how I'm going out

For the sucka dumb brothas that's showing out

Some start to mumble, they wanna rumble

Mix em and cook em in a pot like gumbo

Goin off on a motherfucker like that

with a gat that's pointed at yo ass

So give it up smooth

Going off on everybody like that

With bass that's droppin' in your face

So give it up smooth

But here is the corporate executive’s chef-d’oeuvre. Easy E’s screed against “bitches” morphs into

So what about the girl who shot, (garbled), you think I give a damn about a girl? I aint’ a sucker

This undercuts Easy E’s defense against the misogyny charge. In an interview he claimed he only meant to METAPHORICALLY kill “bitches”, as distinct from “women”. ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SuUDuPU1TFk  1:12 ) Whatever one may think of the cloudiness of the rapper's justification the record company executives cannot hide behind artistic license. They sanctioned removing the B-word as somehow softening the message. The film never touches this topic.  Instead we are given the blow by blow of events at various venues and a never-ending re-telling of fights both verbal and physical. The movie makers dip their toe in the uncomfortable reality, but only to the degree that protects the acceptability of the protagonists. This film is about selling product, not bringing up things that might hurt the bottom line. 

There is a sequence in which Ice Cube is giving an interview surrounded by a Black Muslim security team. He carefully answers questions about anti-semitism. He claims to hate Heller, not Jews. The filmmakers introduce Cube’s affiliation with the Nation of Islam (NOI) without touching on the controversial history of that organization. This tactic gives the veneer of raising the issue without… raising the issue. It is the same as having Heller invoking the Jewish Defense League (JDL) after he was insulted by Ice Cube. The filmmakers never discuss that this organization was suspected by the FBI of extorting rap stars. (http://www.jpost.com/Jewish-World/Jewish-News/Files-show-FBI-suspected-JDL-of-extorting-Tupac) The decision to show JDL and NOI in passing inoculates the characters from being involved in extremism. Ironically they have no qualms about highlighting Suge stomping on a random driver who mistakenly parks in Mr. Knight’s designated space. This type of gangsta pettiness is easily written off as gangbanger craziness. What about the moral compass of respectable filmmakers who soft pedal criminality in order to sell tickets? Or the executives who adopt the same strategy in order push posters or clothes…. or high end electronic devices?

The film begins with the same bombastic statement spoken by Dr. Dre in the opening of the album, “Straight Outta Compton”.  YOU ARE ABOUT TO WITNESS THE STRENGTH OF STREET KNOWLEDGE. This sentiment is embedded in the last twenty minutes of the film. It is dominated by saccharine rendition of group reconciliation while Easy E loses his battle with AIDS. The filmmakers throw in a line about the dying rapper being invited to the White House. The truth is more revealing.  Sen. Bob Dole included Easy E in a Republican fundraiser based in Washing D C. President H.W. Bush gave the keynote address. Forgetting the cyclical nature of the encounter it is certainly proof of having made his mark. No need to for a gat or grill or gold in order to enter the realm of polite society. He received and invitation from the establishment political party to dine with the President of the United States. This small factoid speaks louder than any car stereo or garrulous mansion. These young men, despite or because of their street thugs performances, had entered the ruling class. What the film misses is that, collectively, the group has abandoned the street rage and coalesced around Dr. Dre’s reflection, “I’m doing everything I can so I never resemble that man again.” There is a strange disquieting acceptance of surrender echoed in The Clash’s song “Death or Glory”. 

Now every cheap hood strikes a bargain with the world,

Ends up making payments on a sofa or a girl.

Love 'n hate tattooed across the knuckles of his hands,

Hands that slap his kids around, 'cause they don't understand how,

Death or glory, becomes just another story

-Death or Glory, The Clash

That’s the real truth about ‘street knowledge’. Anger will destroy. Best to step back and market the hateful violence as a commodity that can be packaged by people in power and distributed to kids outside the hopeless ghettos. Those executives are more dangerous than anyone you will ever encounter on the street. Keep your distance. Count your pennies. Never give them the authority to write checks. Play the heroes for the crowd. Make sure you’re being paid. Protect your family.  This is the truth the filmmakers dared not tell. They chose to extend the NWA marketing campaign. In a sense it would be foolish to believe that they make any other choice. They’re not scared of Suge. The studio executives are the real players.

Thinking about the fate of Easy E, Dr. Dre, Ice Cube, MC Ren and DJ Yella brought to mind some dialogue from a long forgotten film. It is about a professional athlete. In this scene he is being seduced by the wife of the owner of his team.

Frank Machin: We don't have stars in this game, Mrs Weaver, that's soccer.

Mrs. Anne Weaver: What *do* you have?

Frank Machin: People like me.     

-From the film ‘This Sporting Life’, a dramatic portrait of Rugby Player

The Gift (2015)

The Gift (2015)

Not Using His Gift

““You don't learn to walk by following rules. You learn by doing, and by falling over.” 

― Richard Branson

Jason Bateman is scary. The established comic actor plays against type in Joel Edgerton’s psychological thriller “The Gift”. There is no nudity, foul language or bloodshed and yet the people at MPAA decided to give it a R (Restricted) rating. Bateman is good at being bad… or to be more precise, creepy. The supporting cast also hits their marks and give this pedestrian genre film more octane than the trailer would suggest. Mr. Edgerton, who wrote the screenplay, also successfully carries one of the leading roles… a down and out veteran with a past that involves the central character. His acting is stronger than his directing which is stronger than his writing. Edgerton can technically be called an auteur but he lacks the most crucial attribute, a personal vision. He is still under the spell of Hitchcock (Strangers on a Train, Psycho, Frenzy ),Roman Polanski (Repulsion) and Adrian Lyne (Fatal Attraction). The end result is a suspenseful 70 minutes, more than half hour of downtime and, most significantly, no afterthoughts. In hindsight this film is professionally bland and forgettable despite the in-theater thrill

“The Gift” possesses hints that Edgerton’s had grander ambitions. The ending seems pat and abrupt as the wronged party successfully gloats in revenge triumph against the bully. This sudden denouement leaves many loose ends that undercut film’s successful early sequences.The story revolves around a upscale couple that relocates to the husband’s childhood hometown. There is an inordinate degree of parsing of the troubling events that led to the move. The wife, a victim of depression/drug addiction, suffered a miscarriage. Given the arc of the plot it appears the careful detailing of this backstory belonged to an earlier manifestation of the script. It certainly would have added a dimension to the film had the credibility of Rebecca Hall been an open question to other’s within the story (Gaslight) or those in the audience (Repulsion). The final rendering, however, spends an inordinate amount of time illustrating her trauma without justification. Edgerton is too precise a filmmaker/writer to simply incorporate a ‘dead end’ storyline. Note: in the first encounter with the couple the nemesis casually stands within ear-shot as the sales clerk confirms an a address. This quick moment was probably missed by a vast majority of casual movie goers but obviously the director is not indifferent to small details. Surprisingly the wife’s dark history and the motivation for the move are incidental to the unfolding events. Would it have mattered had the wife been trouble-free and the couple changed locales due to her husband’s promotion? The portrait Jason Bateman is more troubling as it is incongruous, rather than superfluous. This is clearly a dedicated husband who stood by his partner during difficulty exclusively triggered by HER demons. These actions are in sync with his being former high school leader and all around ‘good guy’. But how does all this jibe with his other behavior? Do popular Student Council Presidents torment underclassmen? Do sociopaths support their troubled spouses without ulterior motives? More importantly is it credible that the wife was oblivious? Perhaps she had ulterior motives regarding her personal safety or financial security. Strangely she is utterly bewildered by all the revelations. Does she really not know? Once again had these themes been plumbed the memory of the final film might last beyond the parking lot of the movie theater. As it is, the audience is saddled with unbelievable characters performing improbable acts. This undercuts the well executed moments of tension. They are merely splashes of brilliance unanchored to a meaningful larger narrative.  

Edgerton has honed his craft and can make an audience squirm in anticipation of something that never happens. Conversely he can make you jump from your seat when events explode with no foundation. This professionalism might be born of his years of working as an actor/writer. Cleary he has tenacious drive . A first time director receiving wide-scale distribution and mainstream financing faces daunting odds. It is unfortunate that the perseverance failed to deliver work that never rose above the glut of half hearted corporate endeavors. Perhaps he was worn down by merely arriving at the gate and surrendered artistic control. He played it safe as he delivered a more than watchable feature that has grossed four times the meager budget. Great for his career, not so for an audience member.  There is a worn dreariness to the production. The sparseness was palpable.“The Gift” feels small in the manner of a student-film. If a director, due to penury considerations, must limit locations and actors, then compensate with innovation. Certainly he is familiar with Hitchcock’s Rope or Lifeboat.  This material substituted competence for audacity. Despite all the glass, the house felt claustrophobic in a budget conscious way. Maybe the director will feel less artistically inhibited with his next project. Perhaps Mr. Bateman can reprise his bad guy. The confrontation with his high school friend and the “get over it’ soliloquy hints at what might have been. Maybe it is a harbinger of things to come. Edgerton has a gift. “The Gift” only reveals it at the edges. 

Trainwreck (2015)

When Good Artists Make Bad Things

"Nobody deliberately starts out to make a stinker" - Producer Jerry Wald quoted in Dwight Macdonald's essay "No Art and No Box Office"

Tilda Swinton and LeBron James gave outstanding performances. It is inconceivable that anyone would ever write such a sentence. This, however, is the only positive surprise in the (ironically titled?) “Trainwreck”,  Amy Schumer’s debut feature. Schumer and the director Judd Apatow are solid comedians with a track record of producing amusing material.  How could such talented artists’ put their names to such a laborious, unfunny 2 hours of romantic comedy? Perhaps the answer lies in the semi-biographical plot line. The eponymous central character reenacts painful moments from her real life doppgangler’s life. All comedians mine the horror’s of family strife for laughs… in this case the tears of the clown evoke embarrassment, ennui and pity, rather than mirth. Perhaps the producers faced a large scale version of not telling a co-worker they are “sharing too much”. Conversely Ms. Schumer might be suffering a common celebrity delusion that their trauma drama’s need not be shaped in order to have resonance.  The fact that this film is loosely based on Amy’s real life makes for an interesting side-light but it fails to carry the material.   

The train wreck of “Trainwreck” is illustrated in the opening moments of the film. There is a funny flashback where Amy and her sister are given an explanation by the father of their parent’s divorce. Dad ends up leading the children in a chant decrying monogamy.  It is wonderfully appropriately inappropriate. The choreography, however, was a stiff back and forth between father in the proscenium arch of the garage. The children are fixed as hood ornaments on a car.  It was as if this moment was taken from a Television sketch comedy rather than feature film. It might have aided in the hilarious crescendo if the father was mobil and placed the children on the car. Perhaps the inclusion of actual dolls, which are referenced in the speech, might have also helped drive narrative.  The father is saying to the children that it would be foolish if their mother forced exclusivity rules with their toys. An emotionally stunted man such as the father would be more likely to react to an actual doll rather than create a marriage analogy from scratch.  There is a slap-dash quality to the execution. This continues in the many set-pieces centering on Amy’s absurd muscleman boyfriend. The two sequences riffing on his inability with language, failing to talk dirty in the bedroom and verbally jousting HIMSELF a movie theater, are funny. They could have been hilarious with concise editing. These are all minor flaws compared to the depiction of her family and love interest.

“Trainwreck” switches tracks from mad-cap sketch comedy to traditional romantic comedy. Using a Woody Allen’s work as a reference oscillates between being “Bananas” and “Annie Hall”. The boyfriend, Bill Hader, gives a solid performance but it is incongruous with Amy being Amy.  He is not alone. The very polished supporting cast seems ensconced in a traditional romantic comedy while the irreverent TV host wanders in to perform her shtick. It can be fun. Tilda Swinton deftly channels Tina Brown/Anna Wintour as Amy’s boss. LeBron James play himself but without Schumer’s self-consciousness. It is odd that a professional athlete could outshine a seasoned performer. This is because LeBron is firmly in the world of make-believe whereas Schumer’s authenticity waxes and wanes. The scenes with the father, sister and boyfriend are fixed in a plot driven drama demanding an appropriate degree of realism. This is in sharp contrast to the numerous set piece skits with the love interests or other celebrities. Is the scene where LeBron hosts an intervention with a group of sports figures (and Matthew Broderick?) supposed to be played straight? It was off-key and stilted. Are the monologues recounting Amy’s frat-boy sexual prowess supposed to elicit laughter or pity? Unfortunately the intent was the former but the result was the latter. Overall this film’s funny scenes are out of kilter and the ‘serious’ moments are flat. 

There is a paradox in this film’s success. It has currently garnered twice what it cost to make. Judging by the legions of celebrities clamoring for cameos Schumer is very much in demand. It is no wonder that she is one of the comedians selected for a coveted appearance on the last taping of the John Stewart’s “The Daily Show”. The reviews have been fairly forgiving and some have even raved.  It’s unfortunate as it might give her the green light to venture into more feature work without honing her skills. She is a talent. She is not a filmmaker or screenwriter…. at least not yet. The most entertaining moments during the screening I attended were provided by a group of three elderly women who provided searing commentary as the movie dragged on. This sort of of audience interactions was common in the urban movie theaters of my youth four decades ago. It was a welcome surprise in rural Vermont. Here is a sample of the verbal critique, “Why is SHE dating HIM… HE IS DUMB…. this is STUPID…. this is just DUMB…. she would never go out with HIM… he’s an IDIOT and she’s SMART”. It continued unabated through numerous plot twists with the theme being none of it was that funny or made much sense. At the three quarter mark the women threw in the towel and left… but not without a final salvo in my direction, “BORING!”. I failed to engage in a conversation but I couldn’t agree more.  If only Amy could have spoken to them. Her legacy would be burnished by paying serious attention to commentary from the boonies. We are nothing if not critical. Schumer, despite all the tough girl posturing, has surrounded herself with people who are not challenging her artistically. This is a badly executed, ill-conceived work rooted in correctable foibles. No one dared tell the empress about her clothes. Why should they? The executives will pat her on the back due to the good box office. This will only embolden the feckless creative entourage to shower more accolades. In the end the work is laughable - but not in good way. "Trainwreck" is an illustration of that adage that warns about the light at the end of tunnel.... hopefully she will avoid a head on collision. She needs to switch tracks before the next feature. 

Ex Machina (2015)

Ex Machina (2015)

Don’t Be Evil

“With artificial intelligence we are summoning the demon”― Elon Musk at MIT Aeronautics and Astronautics Centennial Symposium, from Washington Post Article “Elon Musk’s nightmare: A Google robot army annihilating mankind”  May 13, 2015

Is Ava an ingenue in Alex Garland’s “Ex Machina”? That simple question is at the heart of this compact science fiction thriller based around the relationship between humans and sentient machines. Ava is a robot guided by extremely advanced algorithms. Does she have feelings?  Who deserves to be accorded de jure dignity and respect? Given our species track record of exploitation and domination, is it an act of suicide to extend the franchise to non-humans?  Apes, dogs or octopus’ are not an existential threat to mankind so the debate about according our fellow animals rights plods along at a comfortably sleepy academic pace. Computers, however,  manage the opaque programming of modern life. Our reliance on these unseen machines grows in tandem with a sense of dread about their ability to reek havoc.  This gives rise to the unsettling question: are they like us? Do they deserve to be treated as something other than pieces of metal, glass and plastic? Mr. Garland’s foil to explore these questions is a young computer scientist, Caleb, who is selected to take part in an experiment by Nathan. The latter is an amalgamation of many Silicon Valley pioneers. Sergey Brin, who as head of Google, has spent a fortune acquiring artificial intelligence and robotics companies without revealing his intent. Nathan’s unfathomable intellect and arrogance also brings to mind Peter Thiel, who has stated a desire to be eternal by merging with a machine, and Elon Musk, who has stated he wants to live on Mars. All these people have the resources to explore their dreams and the shear force of personality to make even the most skeptical non-scientists wonder. Nathan has the audacity to believe his intellectual strength makes him divine. Caleb is merely an apostle documenting, confirming and being programed to spread the gospel. 

Mr. Garland has a knack for exploring big ideas in confined spaces. “Sunshine”, which he authored, shows the fate of half a dozen people confined to a spacecraft. The writing is superb as the characters are in a battle with their sanity in addition to the the elements. “Ex Machina” also uses a small cast confined to one set. Garland’s directorial debut shows that his talent goes beyond the written word. The plot is spare. A young computer engineer is called by his boss, a world renowned computer genius, to take part in an experiment.  The acting is pitch perfect. Nathan is as arrogant as Caleb is callow and Ava is alluring. The actors bring an international perspective shared by the real life tech tycoons. Brin, Musk and Thiel were all born outside the United States. Oscar Isaac, who plays Nathan, is a naturalized American born of Guatemalan and Cuban parents. Domhnall Gleeson, the eager Caleb, is Irish.  Alicia Vikander is Swedish. It is a mark of their talent that they completely suppress any old world charm. They all exude a particular brand of American ambition that could only be born of new culture that abandons ancient truths for the allure of innovation. Nathan has the hardboiled entrepreneurs' obsession with fame and standing. Caleb has formidable technical prowess saddled with a childlike belief in the goodness of science and rich powerful men. Ava is myopic in the manner of a brilliant American graduate student unencumbered by weighty questions in pursuit of actionable knowledge. This unlikely combination of strivers are on a collision course with existential questions.

The setting is a modernist cement prison. It is the kind of pretentious, flashy unlivable home that only a tech wizard would choose to inhabit. It brings to mind Apple Computer’s co-founder (the other Steve) who incorporated an actual cave in his large ranch-style house. Caleb adapts to being put in a windowless cell with a door that automatically locks. His mentor explains he should think of it as merely an extension of the lab and not really a home. This small moment speaks to an ideology both these men share. Sometimes it’s important to sacrifice one’s humanity for the greater good of Science. Nathan has made his fortune designing a Google-like internet behemoth which he uses to glean information about how human’s interact. Studying the “traffic” can yield a great deal of information without delving into the minutia. It’s akin to the National Security Agency’s massive data sweep. There is no need to have the specifics of a conversation as the raw data of who and when you called can reveal the larger truth. Nathan never gives this nefarious example but he poetically shows that in creating his robots he has tapped, metaphorically speaking, all human knowledge. He twists Caleb’s banter around to hint that Caleb thinks Nathan a god with the power of creating beings. Caleb states that is not what he says or thinks.  This forces Nathan to repeat the misrepresentation with greater force. What does it matter what the lab rat thinks? Caleb confirms his status by abandoning any hope of correcting the word from on high. 

There is a constant waxing and waining of trust as Caleb is lured down his maze. At first Nathan’s brilliance excuses his rudeness but his brutality becomes too much for the gentle Caleb.  The young scientist becomes Ava’s knight in shinning armor. This is according to Nathan’s plan. Ostensively he is there to perform a “Turing Test”. “Ex Machina” gives relevant exposition. Turing, the father of modern computer science, asked the question whether computers were capable of thought. Since defining the act of thinking is difficult Turing re-stated the test question: ”Are there imaginable digital computers which would do well in the imitation game?”.  There is a great deal of dialogue surrounding the nature of whether or not, Ava, the android, is actually thinking or merely mimicking. Strangely there is no mention of the fact that Turing himself negated the issue by stressing imitation rather than actual thought.  Caleb is bogged down in the mechanics which exasperates the impatient Nathan. He uses various analogies including referencing one of his paintings by abstract expressionist Jackson Pollack to “prove” that Ava is a sentient being. Perhaps the creepiest moment of the film occurs when Nathan decides to show his pupil how to stop thinking and “let go”. He has caught Caleb fending off the sexual advances made by Nathan’s servant/consort. Caleb fears Nathan’s fury. Anger might be an appropriate response of someone discovering a lover secretly involved with a friend. That would be in the world of well adjusted mammals. Caleb is in the presence of a sociopath and his army of Stepford Wives. Caleb is dumfounded as Nathan turns up the music, swills his drink and performs a perfectly choreographed disco routine with the servant. The precision of Nathan and his companion imitating each other is, at first, comic. Then, as the music progresses, the scene takes on a sinister hue of joyless excess. As an aside, Jackson Pollack killed himself and a fellow car passenger during a night of revelry.

Mr. Garland’s use of costumes and grooming elegantly supports the dystopian themes. Nathan shares the same huge beard and closely cropped hair of fanatical terrorist leaders. It is in the seduction of Caleb, however, that Garland hits his mark by brilliantly parsing Ava’s body. The face and hands are completely human but the rest of her, including her hairline and neck, are overtly mechanical. The overall impression is a human conjoined with an extraordinary, hand crafted modern Swiss watch. The divide between man and machine becomes apparent during a sequence where Ava puts on her clothes. Caleb is told to cover his eyes. She coyly slips on a dress evoking a transition into being a young girl aware of her sexuality. Caleb peeks through his fingers. The is a sweetness to the moment due to his inexperience. He is twinned with her assuming the role of a young innocent crossing the line into the murkiness of sexuality. This scene of Caleb gazing on his love interest is repeated in a thematically mirror image. Towards the end of the film Ava is covering her body with skin while Caleb is imprisoned in a neighboring room. No need to tell him to shut his eyes as that would hint that she cared. She doesn’t. Strangely this makes her very human, but in a postlapsarian sense. His naive fairytale romance turns into a very mature power struggle.  Ironically Genesis is rendered in reverse as Ava escapes the gray stone darkness into a Garden of Eden at the heart of the Rocky Mountains. Garland has placed Nathan’s laboratory/home in a secluded sylvan oasis which echoes Ayn Rand’s “Galt’s Glutch”, the community of like minded genius’ who come to dominate the world of inferior collectivists. As an aside it is interesting to note that Rand’s key disciple, Nathaniel Brandon, shares Garland’s lead character’s first name. “Ex Machina” has taken this Randian dream to its logical next step in that Nathan’s “community” consists of Nathan and his carefully tailored robots, which are based on serving his needs. Not surprisingly, Nathan is a raging alcoholic who tempers all his solipsistic soliloquies with large amounts of beer and whisky….. When he isn’t terrorizing Caleb, he works on his computers, rapes his androids, eats gourmet meals, blasts loud music and indulges in long bouts with a literal punching bag. There is an amusing moment when Caleb first encounters the mad genius that illustrates Nathan’s complete isolation. He is referring to the wild time he had the night before. Caleb assumes he had thrown a large party. Nathan is offended by this suggestion. As if to say “I don’t need anyone else to have a great time”. Nathan then unwraps his fists as he has just been whaling away on the punching bag. He escorts Caleb to his windowless cell/room where he bullies him into signing a confidentiality agreement. Nathan might be the paradigm of scientific brilliance but he fails to be much of host or companion and some might argue, human. 

Although Garland has delivered an exceptional film debut the android world view is absent.  Ava is intriguing but opaque. During Caleb’s inquisition, which morphed into an extended date, he asks her an hypothetical question: where would you go If you had the choice of visiting anyplace on earth? One can assume, given her lightening sharp responses to all manner of inquiry, that she has been imbued with vast knowledge of the world. It is also made clear that she has never experienced anything outside of the small confines of her dark room. Ava’s response gives a glimmer of what is behind that beautiful face mask. She would enjoy visiting a very busy automobile intersection in any major urban area. Caleb is gobsmacked and pushes her to explain. She is interested in people watching. Strangely the inquisitor never pushes for the reason behind her unusual destination fantasy. As audience members we can assume Garland is drawing a parallel with Nathan. Her creator watches humans via his unfettered internet empire and his spawn tries to understand humans via a similar disengaged vantage point. The vehicle intersection is of interest as it delivers a vast quantity of ‘data’ about human behavior. The real questions is to what end Ava would find this useful. This is never addressed  Her mentor is an open book. Nathan tipped his hand with his adolescent fantasy about being a godlike man with the ability to create life as well as snuff it out. His motivation is to be a hallowed figure in human history. He speaks of a time when Caleb will proudly share witnessing the birth of Ava with his grandchildren. His supposed acolyte’s response: only if his grandchildren had signed confidentiality agreements. Caleb pokes at the absurdity of wanting to be a seminal figure in the human community while possessing contempt for all of his fellow beings. Ava, however, remains enigmatic. Does she share her creator’s disgust with humanity? Does she have ambition to dominate?

There is a sequence which features Ava and another android conspiring against their creator. Caleb has, through reprogramming the lock down features of the lab/prison, untethered Nathan’s metaphorical children. This dysfunctional family encounter unfolds in the same manner as one would expect of a purely human cast of characters. Garland carefully stages the brutality with a clumsy ambiguity which blurs understanding the robots’ motivations. There is a moment where Ava whispers to her counterpart. One can assume that Ava, as the dominant figure, is giving instructions, but there is an odd sexual tension in the exchange. As if these two robot children were about to play doctor. Nathan breaks up the strangely tender moment by suddenly bursting in carrying a club and barking orders. The ensuing confrontation ends in a crescendo of violence. It is fascinating to observe Ava’s clearly nefarious actions leading to her liberation. It would have been more enlightening, however, had Ava spent more time with the other robot. To borrow a question which was the title to the original novel which turned into the film “Blade Runner”: “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?”. Do they have a subconscious?  What is in at the root of their motivation? Who is Ava?

The theme of humans being seduced by their mechanical creations is as old as the 18th century “Tales of Hoffman” and has been revived on numerous occasions. “Ex Machina” bears a resemblance to an original Star Trek episode “What Are Little Girls Made Of?” produced in 1966. This work features a scientist, Dr. Korby, who has realized Thiel’s dream of morphing with an android. At the same time Korby exhibits Nathan’s vision of dominance and attempts to reinvent mankind with his army of robots. The problem, of course, is when one engineers robots to imitate humans they become as fickle and uncompromising as their real world counterparts. The brilliance of “Ex Machina” is that the struggle is focused not on man vs. machine but man vs. man; specifically Caleb’s revenge due to Nathan’s mistreatment. Thematically this film has a strong connection with “In the Company of Men”, a stark rendition of a dominant male figure who forces a colleague to toy with a deaf woman, knowing that the result will end in broken hearts. In both films the justice for the wronged party goes awry.  The takeaway is that treating your fellow beings as merely objects can never end well; for anyone. “Ex Machina” extends the lesson to non-humans. It will end badly for ‘anything’ as well.

Perhaps Nathan could have recomputed his behavioral algorithms based on Isaac Asimov’s “I, Robot”. This 1950 anthology of science fiction stories lays out “The Three Laws of Robotics”

1.A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.

2.A robot must obey the orders given to it by human beings, except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.

3.A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.

As Asimov’s fiction progressed so did the power of androids. His stories featured robots controlling governments and, by default, civilization itself. This prompted a revision to the three laws with a law that precedes all others. It was nicknamed the zeroth law: 

0. A robot may not harm humanity, or, by inaction, allow humanity to come to harm.

Interestingly Asmivo continued to wrestle with these questions and, in 1974, published the short story “…. Thou Art Mindful of Him”. Two robots void Rules #1 & #2 and shift the emphasis to #3’s protecting their own existence. The androids come to believe they are superior to humans. Does Ava share this conclusion? Garland never says. “Ex Machina” is a wonderful journey into the battle amongst humans. It is prescient in that the heroes of our time are as deluded as the villain in the film. If anyone feels that Nathan is overdrawn then consider Peter Thiel’s funding of “The Seasteding Institute”. This organization explores the building of communities on floating islands that drift in international waters devoid of any control by evil collectivist governments. Perhaps this is where Thiel can explore his dream of living forever and merging with a robot. Maybe he missed the “What Are Little Girls Made Of?” parable. More likely, like Nathan, he feels he has the upper hand. Garland knows he doesn’t. So does Elon Musk, who is nervous that Sergey Brin is on course to violate the Zeroth law. Once again Garland should be praised for a wonderful work of art that brings the debate front and center. It would have been very interesting to know more about Ava. Unfortunately mankind might find out soon enough. And not in the safety of a movie theater. 

Ira Glass at the Flynn Center (2015)

Ira Glass at the Flynn Center (2015)

Through Ira Glass, Darkly

Journalist: Do you think of yourself primarily as a singer or a poet? 

Bob Dylan: Oh, I think of myself more as a song and dance man, y'know.

--  Dec. 1965 press conference at KQED, San Francisco

Ira Glass, the famed radio host and creator of “This American Life” (TAL) came to Vermont to perform in a one night spectacle. The title of the piece was “Three Acts, Two Dancers, One Radio Host”. That is an accurate account of the evening’s performance - to a point. Needless to say only someone of Mr. Glass’ stature could command a sold out venue with such an obscure premise. He has, for decades, transformed the mundane musings of over-looked people into life parables. He is known for his analytic, incisive questions delivered in a self-deprecating manner. His speech has a nervous quality, think of the silent nerdy kid tasked with explaining a homework assignment in front of the class. This person, mostly known as a disembodied voice, has teamed up with two professional…. dancers? Well if anyone could make it work…. and he did. He produced a mesmerizing evening filled with wit, charm, gravitas, dogged professionalism and… humor.

Many ambitious celebrities focus on self-promotion rather than skill. Glass is about craft.  Certainly mastering the mechanics of  journalism combined with a solid work ethic can bear fruit. In Glass’ case it goes beyond merely being a great reporter. He has taken 1960’s New Journalism and added the sublime. Tom Wolfe or Gay Talese can deliver highly polished entertaining portraits of cultural happenings or celebrities. Glass manages to put you in the frame of the story with a cast of nobodies from nowhere. A great TAL segment is akin to a Buddhist koan or a biblical parable. It’s not simply entertainment. No matter how dispossessed the protagonists or how odd the setting, the audience becomes enmeshed with the two runaway sisters, or the man who spends days trying to win a car, or the kidnapped North Korean film actors, or man who is delivering mental health surveys on an Indian Reservation….  .  He is in a league with Mark Twain or t H. L. Mencken. The latter even shares Ira’s Baltimore roots. In this performance Glass makes reference to his mother commenting the TAL debut.  Whereas many parents might feel the need to shower their children in unmitigated praise, Mrs. Glass is severe in her honesty. She tells her son he is not good at beginnings but better at ‘middles’. She adds that life is mostly ‘middles’ then judiciously weighs in on the side of success.  The son has made his mother proud but one wonders if he shares his mother’s skepticism. On stage Mr. Glass alludes to his Peabody Award, the highest honor in broadcast journalism.  No one could accuse Ira of bragging as its mention is in the context of a humorous aside.  Nevertheless there is a tension between acknowledging personal achievement while discussing yourself . That can also be said for the performance as a whole. The evening is a meditation on the struggle of being an artist and maintaining confidence despite never-ending awkwardness and searing loss. It is a lonely struggle. At the same time the show goes to extraordinary lengths to pretend Mr. Glass is not the main attraction. The result is a delightful evening where Glass touches on his vulnerability without revealing too much. One wonders, however, if the work might have benefited from the main attraction being more overt with his demons.

Back to the dancers. Although the performance discretely centers on Glass’ struggles, it is a collaborative effort with two important, albeit less acknowledged, performers.  Monica Bill Barnes and Anna Bass are the definition of seasoned professional working artists. It is interesting that Ms. Barnes, in addition to handling the choreography, is also credited as director. Artistic joint ventures are born of being a team of rivals. Naturally this very topic becomes the focus in a segment in which the dancers perform and Mr. Glass plays an interview in which one is extremely explicit in her belief that her ‘partner’ is constantly upstaging her.  It is fascinating to watch them move while hearing the stream of consciousness musings about what is in their mind’s eye. In a sense this speaks to why the dancers are ideal foils for Mr. Glass’ menagerie. They are literally silent. One might say that since one of the two women is directing she is ‘in control’, furthermore half the evening is pure dance. In reality Mr. Glass is steering the action. This is not to say he is abusing his position of power but it’s important to note he does not relinquish it, despite what your program indicates. Their silence renders them unable to probe Mr. Glass in the same manner he explores their struggles. Once again our Radio Host’s ineptness as a physical performer gives a veneer that his partners have the upper hand. The bedrock of physical comedy was born in watching rank amateurs attempt to mimic professionals. Watching Mr. Glass follow Monica and Anna brings to mind the best of comedia dell’arte or Chaplin. Ira is an unabashed clown - but he also has the last laugh. In these carefully mapped out sequences Glass heartily plays the fool - but this is on his terms. Of course no one would knowingly create a stage production highlighting their unflattering attributes. The point is that this production shades qualities that seem to unnerve Mr. Glass himself. Would Ira Glass trust Ira Glass to ask him questions in the same manner he asks the dancers? Categorically the answer is NO. That would lead to revelations experienced by one of the performers who exhibits a unflattering competitiveness. Mr. Glass colors disclosing his embarrassing traits. Making an ass of himself as a dancer is his offering in exchange for their trust. It’s much safer than being them. He knows it’s not fair trade and his disquiet is the hidden seam of this show. He desperately wants to be a good guy but, in lock step with discussions about his success as journalist, it is not that simple. What is the true nature of the relationship between interviewer and, victim?

Mr. Glass does reveal personal information that puts him in a very negative light. He would consider his most daring truth to be his marital discord. Ira plays a TAL segment from the first season in which a man is given a marketing assignment. The spouse in the story decides to sell himself to his wife. He deconstructs their marriage in terms of “branding” and “customer needs”. Needless to say most mammals feel a great deal of sympathy for the wife. Upon hearing the piece decades ago I felt a wave of unmitigated revulsion towards the husband. Glass shared this feeling during the initial airing but, after years of marriage, he now sees the husband’s point of view. He adds that his wife sometime accuses him of being “Mr. Spock”, the Star Trek character who scrupulously replaces “emotion” with logic. It is brave that Glass would publicly admit an emotional empathy towards the worst caricature of male thoughtlessness. That nerdy voice is assuming a darker cast. More revealing and disturbing, however, is a small aside in which Glass speaks of a strategy he adopted as a child to gain friends. Ira decided that he needed to connect with people so he embarked on a deliberate effort to ask questions of his classmates in order to win their trust. Unfortunately he discovered that, although they had felt a bond with him due to his ability to listen, he felt even more isolated from them. He went so far as admitting it was bothersome. As Mr. Glass is famous for saying, “let’s stop the tape for a moment.” Any child who consciously devises a plan to 'win people over' by careful probing is Mr. Spock, squared. Furthermore the degree of isolation he experienced must have been extraordinary. It is also interesting that his reaction to having them as confidants was, annoyance. The heretofore avuncular disembodied voice is, unconsciously, morphing into something closer to the sociopathic computer HAL in 2001, who places ‘the mission’ over human lives. Incidentally there is a TAL segment in which the staff is given a test for this disorder. Guess who scored highest? One wonders if Ira’s mother ever heard about his “asking questions to get friends” ploy.  Maybe she encouraged him to pursue reporting? The frustration he felt with his new confidants might be put to better use than fretting about lack of emotional connection. In fact here is a quote from an interview about his craft, “The best storyteller is a crossover … the person who doesn’t actually belong to a group but is familiar and comfortable with and accepted by the group.” (Stefani Twyford, “Epiphanies, Ira Glass, and Why I Tell Stories”, Legacy Multimedia). Glass harnessed his outsiderness into one of the great journalistic careers of all time.

Ira’s mother, with her knack for candor, might have told her son that he would have a dystopian relationship, part friend part clinical subject, with all those individuals who have born their souls on TAL. The marketing husband is a case in point. Would a friend let this poor soul make an ass of himself on national radio?   Glass subtly shields him, albeit decades later. He not only takes his side but he obscures a the central embarrassing detail. Everyone in the audience wanted to know: is that guy still married? Glass never says. It would have been easy to discover and would have enhanced the story. Yet he held back. This hints at a struggle Mr. Glass has as his role as reporter. There is an invasive edge to uncovering truth. Sometimes that “reality” can negatively impact someone who gave you their trust. One would have assumed that Glass joined most of his colleagues in accepting this unfortunate relationship as part of the trade. Unfortunately the usual font of introspection goes dry in terms of weighing his own relationships with his subjects. Although Glass suffers from personal demons, e.g. being a callous spouse, the real devil is in the reporter’s notebook. That childhood strategy of probing others’ lives has turned into a legendary career, unfortunately so has dearth of connection. Given all the accolades and a job everyone envies, what is he to do with all this trust that has been thrown on his shoulders? Cue the music.

The opening number is a tongue in cheek vaudeville routine, complete with literal air kicks, bit of the ole ‘soft shoe’,  a mini proscenium arch and some confetti at the climax. Despite Monica and Anna’s technical prowess, the elder Mrs. Glass was correct. Beginnings are not Glass’ strong suit. The audience’s unease about the feasibility of combining dance are story are heightened as the performers are having a better time than the perplexed audience. Adding to the strangeness is Glass’ insatiable need to deconstruct. We are told that there was a discussion amongst the collaborators about the structure of the play. Should the opening be a “radio segment” or “dance routine”? Perhaps it was the correct choice but , inverting an old theater maxim, there should have been “more art, less matter”. The in-depth commentary about the creative process undermines the free-flowing nature of the work. Strangely all the chatter about the mechanics draws the audience away from the action. It is as if the performers are acting out an elaborate inside joke. As the dancing ends Glass opens his large leather suitcase and brings forward the tools of the trade, a lectern complete with microphone. The show settles down as all performers join to illustrate the parable of Act I. This is a TAL tale about a troupe of dancers who are grinding through a never ending tour of “Riverdance”. Mr. Glass explains this story would be ideal as a medium to combine his strength in storytelling with his collaborators' art. Once again lets stop the tape for a moment. Monica and Anna are outstanding in physically giving form to an artist’s battle with that rare commodity in the creative community, enthusiasm. What is most interesting, however, is Glass’ choice of the narrative. The “reveal” of the story is that the audience is completely oblivious to the artists struggle. The dancers are able to mask their extreme joys and sorrows and deliver a solid performance regardless of their personal triumphs or turmoils. One might see this as Glass meditating on his own feelings and those of his friends/audience. The selection of this material, despite the veneer of playfulness, reflects Glass’ discomfort with the inauthenticity of performers own truth vs. their audience’s beliefs. This is especially difficult for Glass, whose hallmark is trust. One might even see him as the Walter Cronkite of our time.

Act II is focused on awkwardness. Although Mr. Glass announces it is an exploration of “love” it is really about learning the craft of masking emotion in order to appear appropriate. Glass brings us the paradigm moment of feeling “out of place”, the prom. He selects individuals from the audience to come up to a mock up of a high school gym, complete with picture taking booth and mirror ball. The sheepish, wide eyed, participants perfectly create that excruciating moment of having to slow dance with a stranger. The chosen adult audience members  have experience in interacting with the opposite sex but being thrust on stage was a perfect analogy to the awkwardness of tweens enacting their first formal social dance.  This segment showcases Glass’ tender genius. Only someone of his extraordinary capacity for capturing the detail of ritual could have produced something that rang true for even the most the socially disengaged audience member. Glass manages to wring a wry smile from life’s never-ending “grin and bear it” demands. This moment was pitch perfect in terms of conception and execution. Glass smoothly managed cueing a number of interviews via his iPad lectern while supplying pithy commentary. Monica and Anna casually glided across the stage and gentlely managed the couples. Bravo. Note: the couples are given small props and actual pictures in payment for their services. No doubt most would do it for free but perhaps Glass wanted to avoid any hint of exploitation. Once again there is an awkwardness in the relationship that extends beyond this simple skit. In a rare moment of anger on TAL our usually genial host angrily confronts a performance artist who stages happenings that revolve around coopting uninformed participants. Some of these people seem genuinely traumatized by the experience and Glass come to their aid. The degree of his annoyance might touch on an uneasiness about the relationship people in his work, which moves us to the final sequence.

Act I is about the loneliness of being a performer. Act II centers around the awkwardness of social engagement. Act III meditates on heartfelt loss. Stop the tape. The overarching theme of the evening is connection (or lack thereof). Monica and Anna brilliantly ‘dance’ to a carefully crafted monologue in which an established poet meditates on his elderly wife’s death. The dancers embrace on top of a table which is laid out for dinner. The cutlery and the plates crash to the ground as the couple morph from a loving hug to desperately holding on. It was an a mirror image of the prom dance but equally brilliant. Glass then went into monologue about his beloved friend, and fellow TAL contributor, David Rakoff, who died an early death after a bout with cancer.  Glass mentions his colleague’s love of dance and mentions a TAL stage show in which Rakoff, in the final months of life, gave a monologue about life entitled “The Invisible Made Visible”.  This work, which is available on youtube, might be the seed of Glass’ production. Rakoff intersperses his talk with simple dance gestures. One of his arms is immobile and he is clearly showing the effects of radiation and yet, it is gripping. There is a singular beautiful sorrow involved in watching great artists push through their pain. It is akin to listening to the recording of Charlie Parker, deep in the throws of heroin addiction, stumbling through the song “Lover Man”. The sound and gesture are amateurishly awful yet the effect is sublime. Glass does not show the actual images of Rakoff’s struggle. The dancers do their best to create the moment but it would seem a genuine image would have given the audience more connection. Perhaps Glass felt he was protecting his friend. Ironically in this instance Glass’ impeccable ability to read situations fails him and the show as a whole. There are moments where the author, for complicated reasons, muddles the material. This production is a wonderful, entertaining evening, however it fails to reach the very high bar set by Mr. Glass himself in his work with TAL. In his many talks about storytelling Glass refers to “moments of reflection” in which the author unpacks the sequences of material. This show, for all its wonder, lacks this crucial component. 

The ultimate sin, in Glass’ worldview, is narcissism. Here is a quote where Ira discusses the mechanics of storytelling:

Often people submit stories to our radio show which show, I don’t know how to say this except that it shows that they have a HORRIBLE (his emphasis) personality, which is to say they’re someone who only talks about themselves. When someone has a good personality, someone who is good in a conversation, they talk amusingly and interestingly about themselves for awhile and then they let the other person talk for awhile because they’re INTERESTED (his emphasis) in other people and they’re interested in the world.

Glass goes to great lengths to avoid being self-involved during the evening’s performance but perversely this usually solid impulse softens the punch of the material. This is, or rather should be, a show about the man himself. Perhaps amendments to the storytelling rules are in order as this is an occasion where Ira should investigate Glass.  It is gracious of him to constantly remind everyone of Monica and Anna but artistically he needs to acknowledge being the main event. There is a great deal of hemming and hawing about this strange collaboration and the seemingly random nature of the material. The fogginess is born of Glass not wanting to accused on being myopic. This might be a problem for most, but the creator of TAL possesses the genius to bring his story front and center without fear of being a bore. His lack of confidence hurts the production artistically. It would have been fascinating to witness a straightforward treatment of his difficulty feeling a part of the whole combined with his ambivalence towards his subjects and his audience. There is a revealing segment from TAL in which Glass speaks of his relationship with his dog, who suffers from life threatening food allergies. It is a rare moment of deeply personal connection with the voice who delivers so many stories about strangers. Perhaps Glass’ conversations with his mother and the loss of Mr. Rakoff are the only other times where one sees the man behind the Wizard. The evening of live performance should have, unabashedly, gone back stage with the person who is Ira Glass. The individual who has mixed feelings about his role as a reporter and a cultural celebrity.  Maybe this is too much to ask. In the current production he appears to be having the time of his life. That should be qualified with the asterisk of “within the limits a hip intellectual public radio star’s ability to exhibit jubilance.” Kidding aside, Glass' ecstasy stems from his shedding the austere office of reporter and turning to entertainer. But perhaps there is a way to have both the joy and gravitas. Suggestion for an alternate opening of the show. Glass comes forward in silence and without a music or any flourishes, he sets up his lectern. He looks out into the audience and speaks into the microphone: “I’m Ira Glass. I’ve listen to you. NOW YOU’RE GOING TO LISTEN TO ME. I’ve got a a dog and…”. Cue the music and dancers. It’s an opening every mother, even Ira’s, would love. He should also reveal if the husband/marketing genius is still married. An image of Rakoff must also be displayed. Glass is good enough not to worry about hurt feelings. That is the lonely nature of his art. It's time to recognize this truth. It is the fate of all outsider artists, especially the great ones.

It Follows (2015)

It Follows (2015)

The Follower of the Pack

“Do you think the band is good?”

“Their hair is amazing” -  a conversation about a punk group in the 1970s

On rare occasions commercial movie distributors pick a project from the film festival circuit and give it a wide release. Last night in Montpelier Vermont,  “It Follows”, a low budget auteur inspired horror film, went head to head with mainstream fair such as “Cinderella” and “Furious 7”. A tip of the hat to David Robert Mitchell, the writer/director, for bursting out of obscure art house screenings or late night cable cult debuts. The film is a strange combination of “Scooby doo”-like child detectives facing off against a carefully designed super natural menace. No doubt Mr. Mitchell is a student of cinema as this work is an interesting combination of well heeled plot twists. A super demon (or demons) afflicts a solidly unspiritual bourgeois American household with a focus on the young ones (“The Exorcist”, “Poltergeist”, “The Amityville Horror”) . The ritual barrier is crossed and the unsolicited initiation spells trouble. (“The Ring”, “Blair Witch Project”, “Dracula”)   The auteur gives enough new polish to the set-pieces to make it an enjoyably spooky ride. Unfortunately it was neither clever enough to be innovative nor slick enough to be professionally polished.  In the end it was so bad, it was…. mildly interesting.

The premise turns the classic “Don’t Look Now” on its head. That wonderful 1970s tale focuses on a man chasing the ghost of his little girl. The protagonist is constantly on the hunt for the specter clad in the shiny red rain coat who maddeningly disappears in the maze of Venice Italy. In Mitchell’s work the setting is contemporary Detroit where trouble comes to you as a personalized shape shifting demon appearing on the horizon. The premise is clever albeit unoriginal.  The “biting of the apple” in “It Follows” relates heterosexual intercourse. A duped sex partner is afflicted with a zombie-like figure that SLOWLY stalks the new casualty. This is spelled out in pointed exposition after a new victim is consummated. The premise is carefully delineated. This walking dead spirit is only visible to people who have been violated. The monster, in addition to being invisible to the world at large, can take the shape of loved ones or strangers. The key thing is that it walks very very very slowly. Think of Frankenstein’s first steps or the ghouls from “Night of the Living Dead”. There are more rules: if the new victim is killed the monster will pursue the original prey and go back through the chain. Once again the malevolent ghost only appears as an individual, although it can take on numerous personas. 

Mitchell should be praised for having the creepiness supersede blood and guts. There are a few moments where limbs fly but the real scares come when these figures SLOWLY appear and stumble forward. This is “the hook” of this film. Those odd, sometimes naked, pale figures determined to get their prize. Adding to the “ tension” is the propensity of those afflicted teens to seek refuge in abandoned buildings or dark forests. Credulity is the eternal enemy of horror films and in this the victory must go to the skeptical audience member. It’s really not worth going into plot points but are we to believe that this group of besieged teenagers would choose a huge industrial building with a public pool to have the penultimate showdown? Did I mention it was a dark and stormy night. (complete with fog and lightning)

This is a low budget horror film firmly rooted in the conventions that were lampooned in “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”. The problem lies in tone. The over the top mood music begs the question. We can all hope that this was meant as hipster snark channeling Dr. Frank-N-Furter. Then there is the truly terrifying notion: Mitchell was serious. It is difficult to separate the flare from the scare. The strange ambiguity permeates the script. There are narrative moments that provoke genuine confusion. Did the protagonist spread the demon to the fisherman out on the party boat? Was the devil vanquished in the pool of blood? Nebulousness born of careful crafting is entertaining. Mystery rooted in unfulfilled exposition in previous drafts of the script is distracting . Why all the appliances by the pool? Given the fact that the spirit is impervious to bullets why not try to electrocute the beast? Was that the original plan? Does the ‘good’ boyfriend pass the spirit on to a streetwalking prostitute? What is the significance of returning to the place where the couple first kissed? This is a low budget horror movie by a callow director but, even with this low bar, “It Follows” doesn’t follow. The actions of the characters are drawn to heighten tension rather than escape horror. The unfortunate script flaws combined with nonsensical plot points forced the feeling of stupidity rather than terror. Not a single parent stepping in to ask a few questions about petrified teenagers fleeing full throttle in vehicles or on foot. They end up as gruesome mutilated corpses. Even the most disengaged real life father might muster up a “so…. I couldn’t help noticing a couple of your friends have been murdered after being tortured and raped. You’re also barricaded in your room biting your nails under the bed when you’re not running down the street in your underwear looking over your shoulder and crying. Just checking in”.  The adults in this film are akin to the muffled sounds in the old “Peanuts” cartoons. All this absurdity is fine but Mr. Mitchell wasn’t talented enough to patch the flaws. One doesn’t worry about the story holes in “A Nightmare on Elm Street”, but then again Wes Craven is a more nuanced writer/director. The adjective ‘nuanced’ is not one usually associated with Craven which might reveal the depth of Mr. Mitchell’s shortcomings as an auteur.  It was also lazy of Mitchell not to include at least a snippet of exposition regarding the initial birth of the evil spirit. There was certainly enough tedious dialogue regarding the framework of the haunting. Why not a line or two… this began with a girl who was lonely or a boy who was troubled…. That might have given some clue to the incarnations of the demon. As it is the netherworld appears to be channeling passengers from a Greyhound bus in various stages of undress. 

Mitchell is obviously shrewd enough to safeguard the golden egg. The goose does not die. The somewhat appealing group of teenagers remain, mostly, intact. There is the appropriate comedic ending of the ‘true’ love being reunited with his damsel in distress. As they walk down David Lynch’s suburban gothic dream there is someone behind them. Does anyone else see him? Stay tuned for “Following it Follows”.  A warning for Mr. Mitchell. Reflect of those young campers in the woods from the Blair Witch Project. This paradigm indie horror film was made for a little over half a million dollars and grossed $248 million. The sequel, “Shadows:Blair Witch 2”, costs $15 million and made $47 million. The franchise died. Nothing automatically follows. Fire the music director. Be more focused on the script. Don’t let the climax blind you into thinking all is safe. That is the mistake your teenage troupe made in your film. Following these bits of advice is a maximum that should be placed on a large sign in the production office: ADULT SUPERVISION REQUIRED.

American Sniper (2015)

American Sniper (2015)

The Battle for the Home Front

“He's a psychopath patriot, and we love him”― Bill Maher on the lead character in ‘American Sniper’

“Disrespect my son and I’ll unleash hell on you,”  - Wayne Kyle, father of real life character on which ‘American Sniper’ was based speaking to Clint Eastwood and Bradley Cooper

“Leftists such as Michael Moore will rage on, and professors will judge the movie without seeing it — and all that backlash may cost the movie an Oscar — but Clint Eastwood has done something far greater than win an Oscar. He reached a great nation with a story it needed to hear.”  - David French commenting on ‘American Sniper’ in the National Review

“The movie ‘Sniper’ that is made by Hollywood encourages a Christian or non-Muslim youngster to harass and offend the Muslims as far as they could” - Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, Iran’s Supreme Leader

"American Sniper" lionizes the most despicable aspects of U.S. society—the gun culture, the blind adoration of the military, the belief that we have an innate right as a “Christian” nation to exterminate the “lesser breeds” of the earth, a grotesque hypermasculinity that banishes compassion and pity, a denial of inconvenient facts and historical truth, and a belittling of critical thinking and artistic expression. - Chris Hedges, Tikkun Magazine

What does it mean to be an American who sacrifices for the good of the country? This question is at the heart of Clint Eastwood’s “American Sniper”, a feature which is based on the autobiography of Chris Kyle. This much decorated Navy Seal was nicknamed “Legend” for his battlefield skill as a marksman during his four tours of duty in Iraq. He holds unofficial records for being the most lethal shot in US military history. Proof of his effectiveness as a soldier can also be found in the fact that the Iraqi insurgents had a price on his head. This did not deter him from repeatedly re-enlisting despite being shot twice and surviving six separate IED explosions.  Chief Petty Officer Kyle, by all accounts, was a fearsome warrior. 

Some people divorce an individual’s record from the contentiousness of the overall conflict. This is Eastwood’s POV and it applies not simply to the battlefield but to the complete portrait of Chris Kyle’s life. Despite the advertising campaign, the majority of action takes place state-side. This film has more in common with Jane Fonda’s anti-Vietnam “Coming Home” than John Wayne’s war tribute “The Green Berets”.  It is a journey of a man striving to balance family obligations with a desire to serve his larger community. There is a flatness to the narrative as Eastwood smooths the edges of life to highlight what he perceives as the central concern, Kyle’s struggle to do ‘good’ in a sea of ambiguity. Oddly the director eschews shading any facet of the movie. Everything is designed to showcase Chris’ struggle which ironically diminishes the story by creating a cartoonish reality. 

The film opens with Chris facing the daunting decision of whether to fire on a clearly armed young mother and her child. At this point there is a flashback regarding our heroes family. The father is a fire and brimstone Christian, active in his church, who castigates anyone who lets themselves be cowed. Chris had just rescued his younger brother from a playground bully. He and his sibling bear the scars of conflict which prompts the father’s sermon on the obligation of retaliation. One feels more nervous about the blows that would have been delivered by the deacon had the older brother failed to act or the younger one had fled in fear. The most interesting aspect of this is the disconnect between the patriarch’s adherence to Jesus’ ‘turn the other cheek’ ethic, while preaching hardscrabble no nonsense, self-defense. Unfortunately Eastwood sees any momentary reflection on the father’s seemingly contradictory message to undercut the central narrative. The father is not a father so much as a prop to exhibit Chris’ tough upbringing. That childhood included the cardinal tenant of being strong against an oppressor. Eastwood sees the takeaway as Chris being imbued from birth with the mission to violently suppress bullies.  Some audience members might wonder about Chris’ attitude towards his father. He obeyed him…. but was this born of being scared or being a true believer? or both? or neither?  Eastwood wants the audience to simply accept the deacon as merely the guiding influence on Chris. A metaphor for the difficulty of the film lies this minor plot point. This seemingly simple narrative is not simple. This flaw carries over into the wider portrayal of Chris’ marriage and his conduct on the battle field.

There are two moments that reveal the context of the fighting. The first is Chris watching the news footage of the 1998 terrorist attacks in East Africa which killed hundreds of civilians and damaged two US embassies. These coordinated assaults were directed by Islamic extremists. Witnessing live footage spurs Chris to abandon his career as a hard-living cowboy and join one of the most elite units in the US armed forces. Even the most ardent civilian knows that becoming a Navy Seal tests the limits of one’s mental and physical strength. Mr. Eastwood spends a great deal of time documenting the torment of our heroes metamorphosis from tough rodeo rider into gentleman soldier. He meets a vulnerable young woman. Their wedding day presents the second moment that gives motivation for the fighting - their nuptials were near 9/11/2001 - which leads to his deployment to Iraq. There is a conveyor-like movement to the storyline in which context is trumped by desire to present a simple narrative. The unexplored cloudiness of the relationship with his father is followed by a blurriness about this his marriage and the war. Chris respected his father, loved wife and was, by all accounts, a superb soldier. These facts are distinct from his motivations for taking on the responsibilities of starting his own family and his personal feelings about the mission. Where these acts of love or obligation? Or both? Or neither? Towards the latter part of his deployment his unit brandishes a skull symbol on their uniforms and vehicles. It is a visual representation of the horror of the deployment. Yet Eastwood never delves into a discussion of the transformation of a eager patriot to a victim of PTSD. The anguish and stoicism are exhibited but never explored.  

There is a brief moment in the film where the hapless younger brother, who has joined the service in footsteps of Chris, crosses paths with his ‘legendary’ older sibling. He attempts to mask his own shell shock and showers his brother with accolades. He closes the conversation by looking around at the stark Iraqi landscape and saying something along the lines of “it’s totally fucked here”.  The older brother clearly registers that something is wrong. Eastwood shows Chris in many searing moments of pain when comrades are brutally killed, but the passing fraternal pause is the only time there is a shade of doubt about the overall mission. Once again Eastwood focuses his attention on less nuanced readings of horrific situations. Although the battles are technically complicated, the morality is less opaque. When Chris fatally shoots the woman and child, each of them is in the process of throwing a grenade at his fellow soldiers. The director has Chris hold his fire till the last possible moment. In fact there is a tense sequence where he spares the life of another young boy as he abandons his rocket launcher. Chris haltingly rejects praise from his comrades as his moral compass is rooted in knowing that war is a dirty business. He realizes he is not an innocent but he takes solace in the fact that he feels justified. He explicitly states he will defend every one of his shots to his maker when the time comes. This is admirable but one yearns for a sense of Lincoln’s famous answer to a query about whether God favored the Union cause in the Civil War: “Sir, my concern is not whether God is on our side; my greatest concern is to be on God’s side, for God is always right.” Chris will defend every shot.... but does that mean that he believes God will sanction his actions? Possibly, but what about his brother? Or his wife? It is the lack of bringing attention to these questions that undermines the film and gives ammunition to critics who wish to relegate the effort to being merely propaganda. The overly stylized last battle sequence sets an inappropriate tone of action-adventure heroism that crushes the important credulity of the overall story. I have no doubt about Chris Kyle’s bravery but audiences might wonder about the timing of his Iraqi exit. Did he really slay the nemesis sniper from one mile away then immediately call his wife and say “he’s had enough….he’s coming home now”? Did she really hang on the call while the dropped phone captures the James Bond-like escape with hundreds of enemy troops descending? 

Technically Eastwood deliveries a solid, albeit formulaic, film. Sienna Miller and Bradley Cooper give strong performances that rose over the emotional predictability of the script. The movie has achieved phenomenal commercial success and has won over many who are tired of feeling ashamed of proudly waving the stars and stripes. Perhaps avoiding complication is the prefect antidote to the never-ending doubtfulness of contemporary America. Our enormous wealth and technological prowess is countered by a sense of growing economic uncertainty. We are the first generation to make less and live shorter lives than our parents. We have the most powerful army in the world with science fiction-like capabilities. Yet we stumble against shadowy non-state actors that seem as ubiquitous as our Orwellian intelligence surveillance apparatus which seems to focus on ourselves as much as our adversaries. Given this setting Eastwood gives us an unvarnished, uncomplicated hero trying to do good in the morass of moral ambiguity. The closing footage of Chris Kyle’s actual Texas funeral shows how this man captured the hearts of so many. There are rows of veterans, peaces officers and first responders that literally pack a Texas-sized football stadium to say goodbye. In this sense one can view “American Sniper” as understandably one dimensional. Eastwood feels the need to prioritize the suffering of our veterans. In his view their pain trumps whether the film portrayed Muslims in an unflattering fashion. Furthermore the director feels the uncontested bravery of Chris and his comrades outweighs the need to ponder the righteousness of the war. He is not alone. The First Lady, Michelle Obama, commented on how many military families endure the numerous struggles portrayed in Mr. Eastwood’s film. True enough. Unfortunately the black title card prior to the funeral gave me pause. To paraphrase: Chris Kyle was killed while trying to help a fellow soldier in his post-war recovery.

While Eastwood’s film is setting box office records the trial of former Marine Eddie Ray Routh was commencing in the Lone Star State*. He is charged with murdering Chris Kyle and Chris’s best friend Chad Littlefield. Chris and Chad were attempting to help Mr. Routh through his own difficulties after serving in Iraq and Haiti. The film spends a great deal of time documenting Chris anguish returning state-side. Until he found comfort in helping other traumatized Vets, Chris was either in a zombie-like state of recalling the carnage or, more dangerously, drowning his sorrow in alcohol. There is a scary sequence in which Chris loses control and nearly kills the family dog in front of his children and their friends who are celebrating a birthday. Routh was also struggling but less able to control himself. Sadly the last text sent by Chris and Chad was to each other while they were in Chris’ truck with Routh. They messaged that they were nervous about Routh and both needed to watch each others’ backs.  

There is no argument that Routh committed the horrific act. There is a great deal of discussion about the culpability of Routh. There can be no logical explanation why Routh would murder two helpful strangers and then flee the scene in Chris’ vehicle. This “crazy” act of violence by a clearly mentally ill veteran does not shield him from the electric chair. According to the State’s Attorney the fact that Routh admitted in a confession that he knew he was ‘doing wrong’  makes him guilty capital murder. It is an unspeakable wrong that Routh killed these decorated soldiers but the dangers of stripping down the nuance of the situation, and ignoring the fact that Routh was not of sound mind, will amplify the tragedy. Eastwood delivers a heart-wrenching story of violence pain and sacrifice which has been scorned by some who see Chris as a simple mass murderer; just as many would see Routh as an obvious demon who needs to be put to death. It is dangerous to rush to judgement without fully understanding each person’s journey. What does it mean to be an American who sacrifices for the good of the country? The answer to that question can be found in Routh’s story as well as Chris’. There is no equivalence between these two men as soldiers. Chris was clearly a super-star who garnered massive support for his difficult actions. Routh was merely a grunt who fell victim to his dark side. “American Sniper” gives us the comfort of the former and avoids the disquiet of the latter. We can all take solace in cheering crowds gathered to remember a fallen loved one. We should also be cautious of the angry mob who cries for vengeance against an enemy. My guess is that you could fill a cheering stadium to watch the execution of Eddie Ray Routh.  Ironically Chris Kyle would be the first to person to rise up against the sea of bullies. That is the part of the story Mr. Eastwood failed to tell. We are all joined in arms, especially when we are on the home front. When we talk about Chris we need to speak about Eddie. The latter deserved more than a cue card.

* - On Feb. 25, 2015 Eddie Ray Routh was convicted of capital murder by a jury after 3 hours of deliberation. He was swiftly sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole. Chad Littlefield's mother said:

"We've waited two years for God to get justice for us on behalf of our son and, as always, God has proved to be faithful".