The Missing Link

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Alien creatures threaten civilization as we know it, and humans must band together to defend themselves. Is this another review of Cowboys & Aliens? No — it's a review of Rise of the Planet of the Apes, a prequel to the iconic 1968 film Planet of the Apes that is earning praise from critics, moviegoers, and even PETA, the People for Ethical Treatment of Animals, who sent picketers out to show support for the film when it opened. Now there's a switch!

The original Planet of the Apes was sort of a space age Gulliver's Travels: an American space crew, headed by Charlton Heston as the Gulliver character, discovered a planet populated by intelligent apes instead of Jonathan Swift's horsey Houyhnhnms. In both cases, humans in the strange new land have no language skills by which to prove their intelligence, and are used as breeders and beasts of burden. Interestingly, Jonathan Swift coined the word "yahoos" to describe the morally bestial humans in his fantasy world.

No one who has seen Planet of the Apes can forget the gasp of horrified realization that happens when Heston, trying to escape the topsy-turvy planet and return to Earth (he's riding a horse, in a deliberate nod to Swift's story), discovers the top of the Statue of Liberty submerged in sand.  This scene has been immortalized through allusion and satire for nearly half a century. The message is clear: we cannot escape the future we create for ourselves on this earth.

The new film has its own gaspworthy instant, although it occurs midway through, not at the end. I won't tell you what causes the audible gasp in the audience, but I will tell you that I've asked everyone I know who has seen the movie if that gasp happened during their screening too, and all have said yes. It is a powerful moment, made more powerful by the astounding acting of Andy Serkis, an unsung hero of CGI technology. Serkis is the body behind Gollum in The Lord of the Rings (2001, 2002); the ape in King Kong (2005); and now the chimp, Caesar, in Rise. His movements, especially the expression in his face and his eyes, bring sensitivity, pathos, and life to what could have been flat computer generated characters.

Don't you just get so tired of the predictability of Hollywood movies blaming greedy pharmaceutical manufacturers for all our problems?

Rise of the Planet of the Apes creates a possible backstory for how the apes became the cultured, speaking, master race, while humans devolved into brutish creatures. I say "possible," because I'm not convinced that the film's premise works. The idea is that scientists, experimenting with chimps to discover a cure for Alzheimer's disease, inadvertently create the master race of apes and destroy the humans at the same time. The story is smart and engaging and ties up all the loose ends satisfactorily. But it blames the mutation on a single manmade event, completely changing the premise of the first film, which suggested that evolution and devolution will lead to the rise of apes and the fall of humankind.  The sand-covered Statue of Liberty at the end of the 1968 film suggests that the transformation happened over the course of many centuries, not in one generation.

Not surprisingly, capitalism (rather than science itself) is portrayed as the ultimate enemy to mankind. While research scientist Will Rodman (James Franco) is motivated by a desire to cure Alzheimer's, the company he works for is owned and directed by the obligatory greedy capitalist who uses and abuses the chimps in his quest for profits. (Don't you just get so tired of the predictability of Hollywood movies blaming greedy pharmaceutical manufacturers for all our problems?) This film goes a step further, however. For some reason I shudder to contemplate, the casting agent chose Nigerian David Oyelowo to play the brutish bad guy with a British accent. Not sure what the message of this decision might be, but it's hard to believe that the casting was accidental. Enough said about that.

Ironically, despite the filmmakers' obvious distaste for profits, they inadvertently acknowledge the power of money as a motivator when Caesar, the chimp who has been transformed by the chemical trials, wants the other primates to follow him: he buys their loyalty with Chips Ahoy cookies instead of fighting each one of them into submission. And it works! Now there's a message worth sharing.

A message that does not work, however, is the one that PETA especially liked — the portrayal of chimps as misunderstood neighbors who should not be feared. When Caesar makes his way outside to play with a neighbor child, the little girl's father picks up a baseball bat to protect her. He is portrayed throughout the film as a man with a bad temper (although he's an airline pilot; have you ever known an airplane pilot to be anything but calm and comforting?), and we are supposed to take the side of the chimp. However, the memory of the Connecticut woman whose face and hands were torn off by one of these animals two years ago makes it hard to sympathize with the man-sized creature and its lion-sized canines. Even if he does wear pants and a sweatshirt.

Several subtle moments add to the classy styling of this film. At one point, for example, Caesar sadly observes Will kissing his girlfriend (Freida Pinto), creating a poignant allusion to Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and the creature's longing for a woman like himself. Caesar is like Frankenstein's "monster" — too smart to be an ape, but too much an animal to be a human. Where does he belong? Another example: the primate house where Caesar and dozens of other apes are caged overlooks San Francisco Bay and Alcatraz Island, where the notorious prison was located. And a third: a brilliant moment of self-parody occurs with the musical motif that begins when the apes start escaping from the primate house. We hear an undercurrent of the "Dr. Zaius, Dr. Zaius" melody from The Simpson's musical parody of the original Planet of the Apes. How's that for aping one's apers?

All the Planet of the Apes films can be seen as cautionary tales, warning viewers that power and authority are ephemeral. Although the specific catalysts and destructive philosophies are subject to change, the impending doom — transference of power —  does not. On a weekend when the credit rating of the United States was downgraded for the first time in a century, this film is a timely reminder that there may, indeed, be real threats to our comfortable styles of living.

The Lord of the Rings


Editor's Note: Review of "Rise of the Planet of the Apes," directed by Rupert Wyatt. Twentieth Century Fox Entertainment, 2011, 105 minutes.



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Earth Invaded by Metaphor

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When I was a little girl, all the kids in my neighborhood would gather on summer afternoons to play Cowboys and Indians. I had never met an Indian (heck, I had never met a cowboy, either) but I saw them on TV. I knew the Indians were the bad guys because they were different from me. The men had long hair, seldom wore shirts, slept in round tents, and grunted "How" when they talked. The women wrapped in blankets and carried babies on their backs. The cowboys were good because they wore boots and hats and talked in complete sentences. Their women wore eye makeup and beehive hairdos. They were like us.

My kids never played Cowboys and Indians. The game has long fallen out of favor, being considered insensitive to Native Americans. But they did play Aliens. A lot. (They still do, in fact, mostly on Xbox.) Space is the new frontier where we can still hold onto our prejudices — the ones that assert, "My kind are good; the other kind are bad." I realize that we never were fighting against Indians, really. We were fighting against "other," that unknown quality of beings that are different from us. We called them "Indians," but they were really just "aliens" all along.

So the only surprise about the film Cowboys and Aliens that opened this weekend is that no one thought of it any sooner. I awaited it eagerly, knowing that it would be laden with metaphor and ripe for a review.

Director Jon Favreau makes the point about aliens quickly and clearly. Daniel Craig plays Jake Lonergan, an amnesiac drifter with a mean right hook; and Harrison Ford is Woodrow Dolarhyde, a rancher who's mean and rich (his name says it all). Initially the setting is populated by groups of people who don't like each other: city folk who don't like ranchers, bandits who don't like city folk, and Indians who don't like anyone white. Interestingly, however, on a personal level there is a lot of interracial connection in this movie — the white innkeeper is married to a Mexican woman, for example, and the rancher has a close relationship with the Indian who watches over his son.

When space aliens appear on the scene and begin kidnapping local residents, all the groups band together to fight the aliens. The message is clear. It has been used by government leaders (and tyrants) for centuries: to establish local harmony, simply unite the masses against a common enemy.

The "western" part of this western works well. It begins as a classic western would — with a sweeping panorama of the desert, complete with sage brush and sandy cliffs. The story is character driven, and as we learn the characters’ back stories we discover why children behave the way they do when they become adults. Favreau's point seems to be that the more we know about why people act as they do, the more we will come to understand and accept them. This point is made with special effect in the case of Woodrow Dolarhyde, whose personality warms throughout the film. Through Dolarhyde we also learn the true meaning of fatherhood, as we see his maturing relationship with three young men: his son, Percy (Paul Dano); the Indian hand (Adam Beach) who looks out for Percy; and Emmett (Noah Ringer), an orphan boy whom Dolarhyde takes on. It's a little heavy handed, but an important value nonetheless.

The casting is excellent. One of the standouts is Paul Dano as Percy, Dolarhyde's spoiled, juvenile delinquent son who shoots up the town with impunity, knowing that Daddy will fix things for him later. Another is Clancy Brown as Meacham, the local minister who spouts aphorisms while toting a gun. He's a practical kind of preacher, and I liked his philosophy, which offers such wisdom as "It's not who you were, it's who you are," and "Whether you go to heaven or hell isn't God's plan but your choice." Sam Rockwell is endearing as Doc, the innkeeper who must learn how to shoot a gun and "be a man." And 12-year-old Noah Ringer is marvelous as Emmett, the boy who also learns to be a man during the quest to destroy the aliens. My only complaint is Ella (Olivia Wilde), the obligatory girl who comes along for the ride. Her role eventually deepens, but for half the film she is simply a drain on the landscape.

However, as much as I loved the idea of this film, the manifestation of the idea doesn't quite work. The alien part of the movie is simply too alien for a western. For one thing, westerns are slow-paced and character-driven; space aliens have no character. The two simply don't mix. Moreover, the metaphor is so heavy-handed that the aliens never really enter the story. The humans never even question who the aliens are, where they came from, or how they are able to fly through the sky. We're just supposed to know what they represent — invaders seeking to plunder the minerals under the soil and turn them into fuel. Sound familiar?

This is the second "alien encounter" film produced by Steven Spielberg this summer, but oddly, although the aliens in both films look nearly the same, the message of the two films couldn't be more different. In Super 8 the message is "An alien is just a friend you haven't met." Here, the alien gets caught on earth while he's just passing through, and the nasty government scientists kidnap him. In Cowboys and Aliens the beings from outer space are plundering invaders and the message is "kick their asses back where they came from."

It was nice seeing the Indians, townies, ranchers, and even bandits becoming friends. I especially liked seeing the development of Dolarhyde's character. But I'm not sure I like the idea that we can only become friends by uniting against an enemy. The film tries hard to please, but the metaphor overpowers the story and collapses from its own weight.


Editor's Note: Review of "Cowboys and Aliens," directed by Jon Favreau. Universal Pictures, 2011, 118 minutes.



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Anthem: The Libertarian Film Festival

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Anthem may not be the first libertarian film festival, but after the success it enjoyed at FreedomFest this month, it may well become the most lasting. With 30 outstanding films by rising artists and ten provocative and entertaining panels, Anthem was called by many FreedomFest attendees "the best new idea you've had in years."

Full disclosure: by "you" they meant the management of FreedomFest, but where Anthem was concerned, they meant especially me, since the film festival was my baby. I might debate the "in years" part of that statement — the producers of FreedomFest have added great new programs every year — but I enjoyed the compliment, nonetheless.

FreedomFest is a big conference: 150 speakers, panels, and debates, and ten events going on simultaneously during breakout sessions throughout the three-day event in Las Vegas. Why add a film festival?

First, I love movies. I love entering another world, getting caught up in a conflict, and seeing how the conflict is resolved. I love being surprised. I even love being outraged. Storytelling provides a powerful way to reveal the truth, even when the story itself is fiction. Ayn Rand was well aware of this power. It's the reason she chose to devote most of her writing to fiction (including the novel Anthem) and scriptwriting.

Second, I want to encourage more filmmakers to produce works with libertarian themes, and a film festival is a good way to do that. In recent years film festivals have blossomed around the country, with thousands of small ones focusing on specific niche audiences. These festivals give low-budget filmmakers a following and a distribution chain. Libertarianism is one of those niches. A hefty grand prize offered by our co-sponsor, the Pacific Research Institute, provides still more motivation for films that fit the theme.

Third, the FreedomFest umbrella offers something most festivals struggle to provide: a convenient location and a ready audience. Most of our costs, and our risks, can be absorbed by the larger organization. It's a great way to start small and grow.

I have to admit, however, that my greatest asset in producing the Anthem Libertarian Film Festival was withoutabox.com. What a great company for festivals and filmmakers alike! Withoutabox acts as a meeting place for filmmakers and festival producers. Filmmakers receive notices every week about festivals and everything having to do with them, including themes, locations, deadlines, and requirements. I asked some of my filmmakers how they found Anthem, and most of them told me they looked through the withoutabox listings regularly. The name "Anthem" caught their attention as potentially Randian, and the details listed on my withoutabox account confirmed their expectations. A look at my website (anthemfilmfestival.com) suggested to them that it was a high-quality, professionally organized festival, and my submission fee ($15 for early bird registrations, up to $60 for last-minute submissions) was low enough to be worth a risk.

It was capitalism in action: efficient, smart, convenient.

For festival organizers, withoutabox offers even more advantages. They handle all the paperwork involved with accepting submissions — the application forms, legal releases, submission fees, and even the advertising, all for a startup fee of $500 and a graduated advertising program. Because I wanted to start small, I opted for the least expensive advertising option: four group ads to be sent out two weeks before each of my four deadlines. The people at withoutabox processed all my fees and sent me a check, keeping a small percentage for themselves. It was capitalism in action: efficient, smart, convenient. I was happy to pay them their percentage, in exchange for not having to hire someone else to do the work.

I received 60 film submissions from sources I would never have known without withoutabox. It was thrilling to discover young filmmakers with libertarian leanings who had never heard of Liberty Magazine, or Reason or Cato or Atlas for that matter. They simply understand instinctively the principles of liberty and want to express these ideals through their art. One of the best parts of the festival was getting to know these young filmmakers and encouraging them to continue making films with libertarian themes. All of them expressed a desire to come back to FreedomFest next year, with or without a new film, just to hear the speakers.

Of those 60 films, I selected 30 to present at Anthem. Our movies focused on issues of individual freedom, personal responsibility, and self-reliance, as well as the problems of government intrusion and overregulation. Many were satirical, some outrageously so. But these movies were not preachy or didactic. They were entertaining, moving, and motivating. They were movies first, and libertarian movies second. I think that's important—storytelling must touch the emotions first, and guide the listener or viewer to experience a truth. The new media available today offer great new venues for presenting a message in this way.

As might be expected in a festival like ours, we had more documentaries than feature length films. Several of our documentaries focused on education, including Indoctrinate U, about the loss of free speech on college campuses in the wake of political correctness; Zero Percent, about the remarkable education program at Sing Sing Correctional Facility that is entirely funded through private donations and inmate tuition payments; and The Cartel, about the plight of public education and how to fix it. This film, directed by Bob Bowdon, was awarded the PRI Prize for Excellence in Presenting Libertarian Ideals.

We also had documentaries about public policy issues such as the environment (Cool It), international finance and economics (Overdose: The Next Financial Crisis and Free or Equal), and the justice system (A Remarkable Man). Each of these films was followed by a panel discussion, with speakers from all over the world participating in lively and stimulating conversation. Bjorn Lomborg, who wrote The Skeptical Environmentalist and is the featured narrator in Cool It, flew in from Sweden for the festival,and Bob Bowdon of The Cartel moderated two panels, one on education and the other on how to use the new media. We even had a panel called, “What’s Wrong with Selling Sex?” that preceded Lady Magdalene’s, a narrative feature set in a Nevada brothel that stars Nichelle Nichols, the original Lt. Uhura of Star Trek.

The film judged Best Narrative feature was "alleged," starring Brian Dennehy and Fred Thompson in a fresh look at the famous Scopes “monkey trial” that challenged the teaching of evolution in schools. The film focuses primarily on the role of the press in shaping people’s opinions. Journalist H.L. Mencken, a darling of many libertarians, comes off as devious and mean-spirited — which shows that libertarian films aren't going to follow a party line. The film was especially timely in the wake of the high-profile Casey Anthony trial.

Marathon is a poignant true story about poet William Meredith and his partner, Richard Harteis, who faced the difficult decision of what to do when Meredith suffered a debilitating stroke. It has a particularly libertarian theme, because the two men don’t pity themselves or turn to government or other institutions for help. Harteis takes care of Meredith himself. The title refers to the fact that they were both marathon runners, but it’s also a metaphor for going the distance when life gets hard. Harteis produced the film and was on hand to discuss it, and the work won the jury prize for Excellence in Filmmaking.

I was particularly impressed with the short films, most of which were made by novice up-and-coming filmmakers. Usually they were five to 15 minutes long, and all of them focused on libertarian issues. Some were serious short dramas set in dystopian futures, demonstrating what might happen to individual liberties if governments continue down their intrusive paths. Others were satirical comedies using humor to make the same point. Final Census, which won the prize for Best Short Comedy, was so outrageous that I had to soothe a sweet old lady who didn't quite see the humor of a census taker who calmly determines the social value of the people he is hired to count, but I laughed out loud when I saw it the first time.

Bright, the film that won the jury award for Best Short Drama and the Audience Choice award for Best Short Film, is reviewed separately below. Its production values, from the quality of the acting to the music and lighting, were remarkable, especially for a film festival, where movies are generally made on a shoestring budget. Bright was made for $10,000, for example, and Final Census for a mere $150. Next year we will have a panel called "Fiscally Responsible Filmmaking" to showcase their feats of funding magic. For a complete list of the films we screened this year and the awards they earned, go to anthemfilmfestival.com.

One of the most difficult problems with starting a film festival is, of course, that of attracting audiences. Even though we had a ready audience of 2,400 people attending FreedomFest, each film still had to compete with ten speakers — and one other film, as a filmmaker emphasized with a hint of disgruntlement at my decision to screen two films at a time. This year our screening rooms were located in the Skyview Rooms on the 26th floor of Bally's, a long walk down the hall and up the elevators from the main action in the Event Center. Potential viewers had to be fully committed before coming to the films — they couldn't just poke their heads in and then decide whether to stay. Our late submissions deadlines also made it nearly impossible to promote specific films in advance.

But these are simple problems, easily rectified before next year's festival. In 2012, I will, for example, probably select fewer films and show them more than once, since word of mouth grew throughout the conference, and many people were disappointed to learn that a great film they heard about wasn't playing again.

The Anthem Libertarian Film Festival will definitely be back at FreedomFest next year with a new batch of long and short films expressing libertarian ideals. I can't wait to see them, and to meet the filmmakers who will produce them. I hope Liberty's readers will be there too.

But now, let me introduce you to Bright.

Describing the essential requirements of a "skillful literary artist," Edgar Allan Poe wrote in a review of Nathaniel Hawthorne's Tales from an Old Manse: "The unity of effect or impression is a point of great importance . . . Without a certain continuity of effort — without a certain duration or repetition of purpose — the soul is never deeply moved." Every moment, Poe said, must be "conceived, with deliberate care, [to create] a certain unique or single effect."

These movies were not preachy or didactic. They were entertaining, moving, and motivating. They were movies first, and libertarian movies second.

Director Benjamin Busch has created such a work of art with his short film Bright. It's about Troy (Eric Nenninger), a young man who must overcome a paralyzing fear in order to move forward with his life. Every moment in the film is skillfully and deliberately planned to create a particular effect in the viewer. From its opening moments on, the film establishes a rich atmosphere, filled with symbolic imagery, especially the imagery of light. Troy is raised by a blind adoptive father, Irwin (Robert Wisdom), who represents the iconic blind sage of mythology and guides Troy on what turns out to be a spiritual journey. Irwin is blind, but he can "see"; Troy is sighted, but his back is always toward the light.

In this dystopian future, Troy works as a restorationist, helping people regain a sense of continuity with their past by finding old-style original light bulbs for their homes. This spinoff from the current light bulb controversy is, of course, a metaphor for the conflict between what is natural and what is artificial, what is light and what is dark, in the search for courage and meaning in life.

The pacing is deliberately slow, filmed at "the pace of real thought," according to director Busch, who wants viewers to have time to hear the dialogue. Viewers are able to contemplate the film's philosophically provocative lines: "There's danger in all this safety" . . . "Someone who never sees, never knows" . . . "I miss the light but I can remember it" . . . "I loved and I lost, and I'm glad that I loved" . . . "How much would you pay to be happy?"

Bright is a film to be seen with friends, and discussed in long, leisurely conversations afterward. As Poe said of Hawthorne's Tales, "withal is a calm astonishment that ideas so apparently obvious have never occurred or been presented [like this] before." I think Poe would have been pleased with Bright.


Editor's Note: Review of "Bright," directed by Benjamin Busch. 2011, 40 minutes. Anthem Film Festival Best Short Drama and Audience Choice Award.



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Just Super

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Super 8 is the best Steven Spielberg movie to come along in years.

And it isn't even a Spielberg film.

Spielberg's name is on the project as executive producer, just as George Lucas' name is on Spielberg's Indiana Jones movies as producer. But Super 8 was written and directed by J.J. Abrams, who is better known for his work as a producer of "Lost," "Alias," and a variety of other television shows. Nevertheless, it is the most Spielbergian film to come along in many years,a veritable homage to the master of blockbuster films inhabited by preadolescent protagonists. Among the Spielberg effects that Abrams incorporates in this science-fiction coming-of-age thriller are the trademark bicycles spinning into getaway mode, the classic suburban settings, the snappy potty-mouthed dialogue among kids, and the Orwellian military bad guys, reminiscent of E.T.

Abrams creates the best kind of suspense, chilling us with the terror of what we don't see, rather than grossing us out with what we do see — thus doing what Spielberg did so effectively in the first half of Jaws. We know something scary is out there, but it is always obscured by the likes of train cars, bushes, or gas station signs. Our hearts pound and our imaginations run wild as we endure long moments of eerie silence while the camera takes us down paths we would rather not tread. Fearing the unknown is always more terrifying than facing a concrete enemy.

Best of all, Abrams employs the particular kind of coming-of-age storyline for which Spielberg is known. Yes, there's a monster out there, but the real monster is at home, in the form of an unnamed tension between parent and child that has to be resolved. In this story, the tension begins with a mother's funeral. Her son Joe (Joel Courtney) is not allowed to associate with Alice (Elle Fanning) because Alice's father (Ron Eldard), the town loser, was somehow involved in his mother’s death. Joe likes Alice — he likes her a lot! — and that creates tension between the two of them, as well as between Joe and his father (Kyle Chandler), who forbids Joe to see Alice. This iconic conflict between father and child, set against the backdrop of an unknown monstrous intruder, gives this film a satisfying heft.

The story centers on a group of middle-schoolers who have been friends since toddlerhood. Abrams' kids ring true. They're precocious and nerdy in a believable, unassuming way. Their dialogue also rings true, throughout. Charlie (Riley Griffiths) has been the leader of the gang. Like Spielberg, who began making movies with his super 8 camera at the age of 10, Charlie wants to make a movie to enter in a local film festival. He enlists his friends as actors, cinematographers, script consultants, and makeup technicians, and he barks at them throughout rehearsals and filming with the commanding voice of an artistic perfectionist. Charlie is a young Spielberg himself.

One evening Charlie takes his cast "on location" to an isolated train depot to film a scene as the train goes by. He's looking for a dramatic backdrop for his characters' climactic "hill of beans" speech. (This amounts to an homage within an homage, and it works.) But the train suddenly derails — in the most spectacular wreck ever created on film. Ever. The audience in the screening I attended erupted in spontaneous applause as the final piece of wreckage plopped to the ground.

Then, as another homage to Spielberg, Abrams focuses our attention down to a small piece of bloody wreckage, creates a sense of terror as we suspect what might be underneath it, and follows with a gotcha laugh that releases the pent-up tension that the train wreck built so skillfully. Pure genius. Pure Spielberg. In reality, collaborated Abrams.

The rest of the film becomes a typical kids-versus-the world story as these young people try to figure out what the government is trying to hide about the train and its contents. What isn't typical, however, is the quality of the dialogue and the acting of the kids. They are stunningly natural and believable. One of my favorite lines: Charlie says, "We need to develop this film right away. I'm gonna go steal some money from my mom." No hesitation over a moral dilemma. He's a director. He needs money. And he's a kid. He gets it.

With the exception of Elle Fanning (whose career has been active, though overshadowed by that of her older sister, Dakota) these are virtually unknown actors, fresh and new and ready to be molded by their director. I expect to see a lot more of them in the near future. The parents, also, are believable and natural. They are too caught up in their own grownup worlds to recognize what is going on with their children. As a result, their kids are free to roam the town, think for themselves, and learn how to make things happen.

The film has a message, and it's a good one. It argues for overcoming grudges and learning to understand one another. At one point a soldier is lifted by his rifle high into the air. If he holds on, he will die. If he lets go, he will live. Such a simple, subtle message: Let go of the guns. Let go of the grudges. One of Charlie's characters says, "You do have a choice. We all do!" That's an important truth to remember, the truth of individual responsibility and freedom.

Super 8 has it all: great entertainment, great characters, great special effects, great story, and a great message portrayed subtly at the micro and macro level. What more can you ask from a movie?


Editor's Note: Review of "Super 8," directed by J.J. Abrams. Paramount, 2011, 112 minutes.



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War and Peace

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I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: good movies begin with good stories. By that criterion, Incendies is not just a good movie, it is a great movie. Set within a backdrop of bitter hatred and torturous war, it is nevertheless a brilliant film about love for family and finding a personal peace.

The story begins with the classic Romeo and Juliet conflict: Nawal Marwan (Lubna Azabal), a young Christian Arab woman, is in love with a young Palestinian man, and her family disapproves. What happens next — retribution, abandonment, shunning, and revenge — sets the stage for an alternate story line, 35 years in the future, after the woman has died. In her will she asks her young adult children, Jeanne (Mélissa Désormeaux-Poulin) and Simon (Maxim Gaudette), fraternal twins, to find the brother they did not knew existed and the father they thought was dead. This will require them to leave their home in Canada and return to the land of their ancestors in the Middle East.

As Jeanne heads to Lebanon to begin the search for her father in her mother’s hometown, the film flashes back to the young Nawal and her lover, Wahad. The film continues to switch between the two stories as the brother and sister follow the cold dark trail of the mother they only thought they knew. These alternating points of view allow the audience to know Nawal’s story more intimately and completely than the young siblings do, enhancing our compassion for the protagonist and our growing sense of horror as the two slowly discover the truth.

As war breaks out, young Nawal tries to escape the fighting while searching orphanages for the son her grandmother forced her to give up. Along the way she observes the bitterness and retaliation of both religion-based factions. Two scenes stand out as representative of the senselessness and atrocity of this kind of conflict. In the first, Nawal quickly removes the cross from around her neck and rearranges her scarf to cover her, so she can avoid the wrath of Muslims. In the next scene, she quickly doffs the scarf and pulls out her cross to show rebel guerillas that she is a Christian. But she is still the same person, inside and out; only the label has changed. Changing the label saves her life — but the death and destruction she observes destroy her soul.

Incendies is a thrilling mystery about a family’s quest to reunite itself. But it also has a powerful symbolic message, revealing the bitterness that comes from assigning divisive political and religious labels. What does it mean to be a Christian, a Muslim, or a Jew? Beneath the labels, all in the Middle East claim the same ancestry. Arabs (Christian or Muslim) may hate Jews because Ishmael is their ancestor; Jews may hate Arabs because Isaac is their ancestor. But trace their roots back just one more generation, and all honor Abraham as their father. All are cousins under the labels. All are of the same lineage and family.

Incendies is the most engrossing film I have seen since last year's The Secret in their Eyes (also a foreign film). Yes, you will have to read the subtitles at the bottom of the screen — unless you speak French, Arabic, and another dialect I didn’t recognize. But it will be well worth the effort. Don’t miss this outstanding film if it comes to your town.


Editor's Note: Review of "Incendies," directed by Denis Villeneuve. Sony Pictures Classics, 2010, 130 minutes.



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Individualism in Real Life

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Bethany Hamilton is one of those perfect libertarian heroes. When she wants something, she goes after it. When things go wrong, she looks for a way to make it right. She doesn't whine or complain, even when the thing that goes wrong is the horror of a shark taking off her arm. She relies on herself, her family, and her God.

The movie about Bethany, Soul Surfer, has its predictably maudlin moments, fueled by Marco Beltrami's heavily emotional musical score, but don't let that put you off. If you are looking for a film to demonstrate libertarian principles to your friends, take them to Soul Surfer.

The film is based on the true story of Bethany, a competitive surfer with corporate sponsorship who was on her way to professional status when a huge shark bit off her arm. She returned to competitive surfing within a matter of months, and is now a professional surfer. She also seems to be a really nice girl. I learned that not only from the film, but also from the articles I have read about her.

And the Hamiltons seem to be a model libertarian family. They ignored traditional middle-class expectations in order to follow the dreams they made for themselves. All of them, parents and children alike, live to surf. When Bethany showed a great aptitude for surfing, her parents opted out of the government school system and educated her at home so she could take advantage of daytime surfing. After her injury, they did for her only the things she absolutely could not do for herself, encouraging her quickly to find new ways of managing her "ADLs" (activities of daily living).

The film portrays the Hamiltons (Dennis Quaid and Helen Hunt, parents) as a close-knit family within a close-knit community of surfers who understand the true nature of competition. True competition isn't cutthroat or unfair. In fact, unfettered competition has the power to make every person and every product better. Even Bethany's surfing nemesis, Malina Birch (Sonya Balmores), is portrayed as competitively solid. After she paddles full out toward a wave during a competition instead of kindly slowing down to allow for Bethany's injury, Bethany (AnnaSophia Robb) thanks Malina for treating her as an equal and pushing her to be her best. It's a great example of the good that competition can accomplish.

Instead of turning to government support groups to help her deal with her injury, Bethany turns to three free-market sources: family, business, and religion. When she returns to surfing, she rejects the judges' offer to give her a head start paddling past the surf. Instead, her father designs a handle to help her "deck dive" under the waves. When finances are a problem, a news magazine offers to provide her with a prosthetic arm in exchange for a story, and a surfboard manufacturer sponsors her with equipment and clothing. The youth leader at her church (Carrie Underwood) gives her a fuller perspective on her life by taking her on a service mission to Thailand after the tsunami that hit in 2004. There she learns the joy of serving others — a kind of work that earns her psychic benefits rather than monetary rewards. She isn't "giving back"; she is "taking" happiness.

These examples of self-reliance and nongovernmental solutions to problems raise the level of this emotionally predictable film to one that is philosophically satisfying — and well worth seeing.


Editor's Note: Review of "Soul Surfer," directed by Sean McNamara. Sony Pictures Entertainment, 2011, 106 minutes.



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Atlas at Last

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The John Galt Line has finally pulled out of the station, and is barreling across the country picking up hitchhikers who may be wondering what all the fuss is about. After a spectacular pre-release advertising campaign that included multiple premieres in major cities and pre-purchased ticket sales that encouraged nearly 300 screen owners to give the film a chance, Atlas Shrugged Part 1 opened on April 15 (Tax Day) as the third-grossing film of the weekend (looking only at screen averages, not total sales).

"Mixed" is an understatement when describing the reviews. Professional critics on RottenTomatoes give it a 6% approval rating, perhaps the lowest rating I have ever seen for a film. Meanwhile, audiences gave it an unbelievable 85%.

In fact, the film doesn’t deserve either rating. It belongs somewhere in the low middle.

It is not as good as the 85% would indicate; audiences who saw it on opening weekend are rabid fans, bent on a mission to have everyone in America see the film and learn Ayn Rand's philosophy: free markets, free thinking, and self-reliance.

But it doesn't deserve the godawful 6% usually reserved for low-budget slasher flicks, either. It is not as bad as its low budget and relatively unknown cast of actors and producers would cause one to expect. It is respectable.

The cinematic quality is quite good, especially the outdoor scenes of Colorado and the special effects used to create the train and the bridge. The acting isn't bad, but it isn't great. Often I was painfully aware of Taylor Schilling being painfully aware of where Dagny should place her arm, or how Dagny should turn her head; I never felt that she embodied Dagny. Similarly, the background cast at the Reardens' anniversary party appeared to be made up of friends and family of the cast and crew (someone needed to teach them how NOT to mug for the camera).

For fans of Ayn Rand and Atlas Shrugged Part 1, the brightest compliment for this film is that it stays true to first third of the book. (Parts 2 and 3 are expected to follow.) For fans of filmmaking, however, the biggest problem is that it stays true to the book. The film is dialogue heavy, with very little action.

I’m not a Hollywood film reviewer; but I’m a watcher and a reader. I know that books and films are two different genres, and their stories have to be presented in two different ways. Books are primarily cerebral; films are primarily visual. Books can focus on philosophy and conversation; films must focus on action. Books can take days or weeks to read; films must tell their story in a couple of hours. When adapting a book to film, streamlining is essential. Unfortunately, the words in this film are so dense that the ideas become lost.

Atlas Shrugged Part 1 contains some great quotations, but it is not a film that will convince anyone but the Rand faithful of the supremacy of the free market. It makes the same mistake that most libertarians do when espousing philosophy: it assumes that everyone already sees the problems in the way libertarians do. It does not sufficiently engage the non-business person in seeing the long-term effects for everyone when government intervenes in the market. I can hear my middle-class neighbors and colleagues saying "So what?" when Rearden (Grant Bowler) is forced to sell all but one of his businesses. "How is that going to hurt me?" they might wonder.

Even the conflict between Dagny's pure free-market economics and her brother James's (Matthew Marsden) collusion with government is insufficiently portrayed; Dagny seems to be simply getting around the stockholders when she takes over the John Galt Line. Moreover, she and Rearden can hardly be seen as icons of virtue when they violate a freely made and morally binding contract (his marriage vows) by jumping into bed together. Even more damning is Ellis Wyatt's decision to burn his oil fields rather than let anyone else enjoy the fruits of his labor. My middle-class neighbors would howl with outrage at this decision. In short, I don't see how this film will convince anyone that returning to free-market principles will improve our economy and our way of life. It seems like everyone in the film is cutting moral corners somewhere.

"Not bad" is faint praise for a movie that has been 50 years in the waiting. Unfortunately, business pressures caused it to be rushed through with only five weeks in the writing, and another five weeks in the filming. Business is often an exercise in compromise, and this film's production is a classic example. I think, however, that if The Fountainhead's Howard Roark had been the architect of this film, it would have been burned along with Ellis Wyatt's oil fields. It's good, but not good enough.


Editor's Note: Review of "Atlas Shrugged Part 1" (2011), directed by Paul Johannson. The Strike Productions, 2011, 97 minutes.



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A Surprise Hit

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Last week I attended a screening of Atlas Shrugged, Part I, and was amazed to see that the theater was literally sold out and packed full. I cannot ever recall seeing that before. After all, this is not your usual fluffy romantic farce, comic book superhero movie, or action flick. It is an honest effort to put Ayn Rand’s extremely long novel into movie format.

Producers Harmon Kaslow and John Aglialoro are expanding the release from the initial 299 theaters to 425 by this weekend, and as many as 1,000 by the end of April. This is stunning, considering that the marketing plan was considered lame by Hollywood insiders, because it used the internet rather than more traditional venues, such as TV and radio, for running ads.

Not only are ticket sales doing well, but film-related merchandise — including replicas of the bracelet Dagny Taggart (Taylor Schilling) wears in the movie (made out of “Rearden metal”) — are flying off the shelves.

Aglialoro, a businessman who put $10 million of his personal capital into the flick, as well as co-writing and co-producing it, attributes its success in great measure to fortunate timing. I think that in this he is absolutely right. Obama’s leftist regime, with its bash-the-rich and blame-the-businesses rhetoric, massive new regulations, crony capitalism, and redistributionist mindset, has created a ready market for the movie.

Ironically, Obama may prove to be the cause of a whole new wave of Rand mania. That is well worth a chuckle or two, no?




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The News About the News

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When I was a child, we subscribed to two newspapers a day. The Los Angeles Times arrived early in the morning, and the Herald-Examiner plopped onto our doorstep in the late afternoon, usually thrown by my friend Dennis Miller, who had a paper route. (Back then, moms felt safe letting their young boys ride their bikes by themselves every day and knock on doors asking for money once a month.) I always liked the Examiner better, because the photos were a little larger, the stories a little racier, the features a little more entertaining. I didn't realize back then that it was intentional: morning papers contained cold gray news for people in a hurry; evening papers provided lighter fare and racier storytelling for readers who wanted to relax and unwind after a hard day.

With the advent of television news, then cable news, then electronic news, print news has become less and less profitable. Newspapers around the country are cutting back on stories, letting staffers go, and just plan folding up. When documentarian Andrew Rossi received permission to hang out with a video camera at the New York Times offices for a whole year, he didn't know that the demise of print journalism would become the focus of the story; no good documentarian ever knows exactly where the film will end up. But that's where Page One: Inside the New York Times went, and the result is a sometimes lively, sometimes somber, mostly interesting story about the past, present, and future of journalism.

Page One is a bit character heavy in the beginning as it introduces several side stories at once. The character who shines with the most luster is David Carr, the eccentric Monday columnist for the Business section of the Times who focuses primarily on media issues. One of the ironies pointed out in the film is the fact that the Times found it necessary to open a desk in 2008 to cover the demise of the media, and Carr does it in this film with a protective vengeance.

What's cool about Carr is that he lived first, and became a respected journalist second. A self-described cokehead in his youth, he spent some time in jail before becoming a respected writer. He wrote for a number of alternative publications before joining the Times when he was approaching 50. As a result, his voice, both written and spoken, is often unfiltered and unabashed, providing most of the humor in what is often a gray documentary.

But what is killing print journalism? First is the need for profits. Subscription rates will never be able to cover the costs of writing, printing, and delivering the news. Advertising revenue is the true source of support for newspapers, and ad revenue in print media is down everywhere. As a result, coverage is down, and serious coverage is down even more. Who's going to cover city hall when readers only want to know what Lindsay Lohan is up to? And since readership determines advertising rates, more fluff is passing for news these days.

Second is the need for speed. People used to be willing to wait for the scheduled newspapers, with an occasional "Extra" in which to "read all about it" when breaking news called for the editor to "Stop the presses!" Today's tech-savvy consumers, by contrast, are constantly in touch with breaking news, through texting, Twitter, Facebook, and other instant news feeds. They expect to know what's going on, moments after it happens.

On the other hand, the blogosphere's post-now, check-facts-later mentality gives print media the edge in accuracy and credibility. Carr wryly disparages the "caco-phony" of Twitter, even though he grudgingly admits that Twitter is a "wired collective voice" that gives him a sense of what people are talking about. One important scene in the documentary demonstrates a typical 10 a.m. meeting at the Times, where several editors and reporters sit around a table discussing stories currently in progress. There is an air of calm as they take the time to check facts, discuss context, consider reader interest, and check facts again.

Nevertheless, the documentary pulls no punches in reporting on the Times' gross mistakes, including the Jayson Blair scandal and Judith Miller's 2002 articles reporting weapons of mass destruction in Iraq that turned out not to exist. Miller defends herself by saying, "If your sources are wrong, you're going to be wrong." Blair was simply lying. I'm not sure which is worse — being naively hoodwinked or being deliberately devious.

One of the most shocking revelations in the film is the "end of the war" in Iraq that was neatly choreographed by NBC execs to coincide with the 6:30 news. The documentary claims that NBC simply wanted to give viewers a "mission accomplished" closure to the story. So they filmed their reporter accompanying "the final combat troops leaving Iraq" and broadcast it live on the evening news, even though the Pentagon had made no such announcement. It reminded me of the ending of Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, when protagonist Guy Montag watches an innocent pedestrian being chased down, caught, and killed in his stead, just to give viewers the satisfaction of "closure" on the evening news.

The film touches on dozens of areas affecting journalism today. All of them are interesting and important, but the film's own cacophony of information prevents it from having a strong central storyline. In a way, this presentation is more real and honest than a neatly tied story with a beginning, middle, and end. Life doesn't always have a climax on page 72. Nevertheless, it's a fascinating film, well worth viewing.


Editor's Note: Review of "Page One: Inside the New York Times," directed by Andrew Rossi. Magnolia Pictures, 88 minutes.



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How to Unblock Your Writing

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Wouldn't it be great to have limitless access to all the cells in your brain? To have a Google feature of sorts that would allow you to immediately call up just the right fact or memory that you need at any given moment, and the ability to synthesize and analyze all that information instantly?

That's what the drug NTZ does for characters in the film Limitless, a mystery-thriller in theaters now. Eddie Morra (Bradley Cooper) is a sci-fi writer with a contract for a book, but a debilitating writer's block has prevented him from writing a single word. His life is a mess, his apartment is a mess, he's a mess, and his girlfriend Lindy (Abbie Cornish) has just broken up with him because of it.

Then he meets an old friend, Vernon Gant (Johnny Whitworth) who gives him a tab of NTZ. Within minutes Eddie experiences a rush of insight and intelligence. He can remember books he thumbed through in college, television shows he saw in childhood, and math equations he learned in high school. Within hours he has cleaned his apartment, resolved his back rent, and written 50 scintillating pages of his novel. But the next day, he is back to being the same sloppy Eddie who can't write a single word. More NTZ is in order.

If this story line sounds familiar, it is. Daniel Keyes explored this idea of artificially stimulated intelligence in his "Flowers for Algernon," which was later made into the movie Charlie starring Cliff Robertson. Phenomenon, a John Travolta film, uses the same premise. Even the spy spoof television show "Chuck" uses a similar premise when the title character is able to access information stored in "the intersect," as though his brain were a remote computer. What makes this film stand out, however, is its jazzy musical score, witty script, engaging mystery, and skillful cast, not to mention its unexpected ending.

The film begins with the resounding thump of a sledgehammer against a metal door that jars the audience out of its seat. The throbbing musical score (by Paul Leonard-Morgan) drives the story forward, lifting the audience into a feel-good mood.

Eddie's brain on NTZ is simulated artfully for the audience through special camera effects that make Eddie's consciousness seem to speed not just down the road but also through cars, down sidewalks, into buildings, and out of them again at dizzying roller-coaster speeds. When he begins to write, letters appear from his ceiling and drop like rain into his room. Later, when he starts using his newfound skill to make money in the stock market, his ceiling tiles become a ticker tape, composing themselves into the stock symbols that he should buy. Intensified color is also used to portray his intensified awareness; even Cooper's intensely clear blue eyes add to his character's altered sense of reality. These techniques are very effective in creating a sense of what Eddie is experiencing.

The story's suspense is driven by Eddie's shady relationships with a drug dealer (Whitworth), a loan shark (Andrew Howard), a stalker (Tomas Arana), and an investment banker (Robert de Niro).  Eddie cleverly draws on all the memories stored in his brain to thwart the bad guys, but when he unwittingly comes across a dead body, he reacts in the way a normal person would — completely terrified, knocking over a chair as he collapses, then hiding in a corner with a golf club for protection as he calls the police. It's refreshing to see a character react as we probably would, instead of displaying unrealistic aplomb.

Limitless is a surprisingly entertaining film, with its fast pace, skilled cast, creative camera work, and interesting plot. Well worth the price of a ticket.


Editor's Note: Review of "Limitless," directed by Neil Burger. Many Rivers Productions, 2011, 105 minutes.



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