I've Been Gone For A While ... Only To Reappear With A Little Self-Indulgence

http://www.cbc.ca/books/canadawrites/2011/11/writer-to-watch-zalika-reid-benta.html

Midnight In Paris: The Pitcher of Medicority (Spoiler Alert)

Truthfully, it is a little difficult for me to write this post, as I have no real strong feelings about Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris; I did not hate the film and I certainly did not love it. What I can say is that I expected more, considering the acclamatory nature of the film’s reviews. Like always, to begin my take on the movie, I have to explain its plot or its story.

The main experience of the film is Owen Wilson’s. Wilson plays Gil, a struggling and hopelessly nostalgic writer who is in love with Paris (specifically Paris in the 1920s). One night, he strolls the city alone and when the clock strikes midnight, he is suddenly transported back into 1920s Paris where he meets his artistic mentors: F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Gertrude Stein, and Picasso (there are other artists, writers and musicians that flit in and out of this alternate fantasy world). During these visits, he and his mentors discuss the significance and purpose of art, and with each visit, he meets artists who hate their present era and wish to have lived in a different time (e.g. a love interest who lives in the ’20s wishes she had lived in the Belle Époque and one night when a horse-drawn carriage takes her and Gill to the Belle Époque era, the artists there wish they had lived during the Renaissance). This forces Gil to realize that everyone is meant to be dissatisfied with their present because life itself is dissatisfying; thus, he eventually concludes that constantly wishing to be in a previous era is a waste of time.

That is the film in a nutshell. Of course, because we’re dealing with Woody Allen, there is another storyline that has to do with beautiful women, which include Rachel McAdams and Marion Cotillard, but that storyline is essentially a side note.

Upon rereading my synopsis, I have to say that, to me, the film seems interesting; I would want to go see this movie. So why don’t I share the same views as the critics who praised this movie as “beautiful” and “witty” and as a good examination on art and life? Frankly, I thought it was poorly executed. I thought there were a few beautiful quotes regarding the significance of literary art and I thought there were fewer scenes that were funny. I thought that Allen didn’t nuance the transportation into the ’20s well enough, and I thought the dialogue was forced – and not in an ironic way. To be fair, I went to see the movie with my mother who couldn’t help but, every few seconds, whisper, “this is so elementary yet so pretentious” and maybe sitting next to her has made me view the film with a harsher eye. But who knows?

The only reason why I have not panned Midnight in Paris is because I have decided to look at it as similar to a short story in the way that it captures an experience; in the way that the plot is secondary to the epiphany Gil comes to near the end and, for me, that’s what saves it. The film is literary in that sense. Of course, according to Germaine Dulac, one of the great French film critics of the 1920s, cinema should not mimic literature.

Invisible Women in Invisible City: The Issue That Isn't Acknowledged In Hubert Davis' Documentary

After hearing all of the hype surrounding Hubert Davis’ Invisible City, yesterday I decided to go and watch it for myself. While I found it a little slow-paced, I enjoyed the cinematography and thought the film did an excellent job in illustrating instances of systemic racism. A specific instance is when Mikey visits his guidance counselor and asks to be transferred from applied math to academic. Despite his B average in math, the guidance counselor questions whether or not he would be able to handle the workload in an academic class and keeps him in applied. Invisible City also provides an excellent example of stereotyping when interviewing Kendell’s basketball coach. The coach essentially said that he likes to bring boys from Regent Park onto the team for their inherent toughness and aggression. His comment reminded me of an article I had to read in my Grade 12 English Class that basically stated that while Black players have an inbuilt talent and “flow” for basketball white players are more strategic and tactical in their game. I remember being the only student offended by the notion and shut down by my teacher when I raised my contentions. But anyway, even with these necessary and illuminating scenes, Invisible City is fundamentally problematic for two interrelated reasons:

(Lack of) women and the portrayal of motherhood.

Granted, Invisible City follows the lives of two Black teenage boys: Kendell and Mikey. But there is hardly any representation or acknowledgement of Black teenage girls or Black women in the entire documentary. From what I remember, there are two instances in which the camera focuses on Black girls. One instance is when Kendell is playing basketball and a girl, presumably his girlfriend, is watching him play; the other is when Mikey’s sisters are studying and Mikey’s VO states that his mother doesn’t understand that his sisters don’t have to deal with what he deals with: racially prejudiced teachers, racist cops, and the temptation to follow his friends into trouble.

Both instances are loaded with issues. Mikey’s VO is his opinion but the documentary implicitly takes on the view that Black girls simply don’t face as many problems as Black boys. While it is true that Black girls aren’t confronted with all of the same problems as Black boys, there are plenty of racially-inspired hurdles that both genders face. For instance, Black women face just as many stereotypes as Black men. To name a few, we are stereotyped as being promiscuous, as being “baby-mamas”, as being loud-mouthed, and as being difficult and aggressive. Speaking from experience, teachers and authority figures do in fact label Black girls just as much as Black boys, their stigmatization predicated on the aforementioned stereotypes. Furthermore, Black women must deal with Western standards of beauty and must contend with the fact that we are represented as ugly in comparison to white women. A shocking example of this is the online article Psychology Today posted then deleted, arguing that, scientifically, Black women are less attractive because we have more masculine features compared to women of other races. Growing up with these notions of beauty and ugliness most definitely makes teenagehood for Black girls difficult and cruel and it is plainly wrong to suggest or imply that Black girls have it easy compared to Black boys. Our issues are merely different.

The shot of the girl watching Kendall play basketball bothered me because I found it to be a manifestation of a running theme in the documentary: that Black women are passive and bystanders to men’s lives. The portrayal of the mothers reiterates that theme, for the documentary doesn’t portray them as having active roles in their sons’ lives. Indeed, Davis illustrates that they love their boys and that they work extremely hard to provide for them but when it comes to their sons’ constant run-ins with the law and their inattention at school, the mothers’ vocabulary are filled with phrases such as “I wish”, “I hope” and “I pray.”

Furthermore, the mothers are put in stark contrast with Ainsworth Morgan, former pro-athlete and a local role model, who does actively participate in Mikey and Kendell’s lives, who talks to them “on the real” about how they’re screwing up their lives. He is essentially the father-figure to both boys and to other boys in the community – and he is the one who can put the boys in line. Now, I do think it is extremely important and absolutely necessary for Black men to take up their responsibility and parent their children – sons and daughters – but to suggest, like Invisible City (in my view) does, that Black boys absolutely need their fathers to teach them right from wrong, to keep them in line, to “be a man” essentially, is not only misogynistic, but a Western way of thinking.

But Davis isn’t the only director who takes this approach. John Singleton and Spike Lee treat Black women in very much the same way. While Boyz N The Hood and Do The Right Thing are fictional films, they still make commentary on the social conditions of Black boys and the Black community. In Boyz, Tre moves in with his father because his mother admits she can’t teach him to be a man. When talking about his other, fatherless friends, Tre’s father states that they have no one to teach them responsibility. The women in the film are either drug addicts, neglectful and cruel mothers, or they easily navigate the education system and experience no hardships or issues in their advancement. In Do The Right Thing, the women have a muted presence and are generally portrayed as passive.

Films like Boyz N The Hood, Do The Right Thing and The Invisible City are a good commentary on the social conditions of the Black community in North America, and they are good snapshots of what Black boys have to experience on the day-to-day. But they are incomplete in their commentary on the social conditions because they hardly acknowledge how Black girls deal with the conditions. All in all, there needs to be more films and more books (fictional and nonfictional) that deal with the experiences of Black teenage girls and the struggles and issues we must contend with growing up.

The Lovely Bones: Garishly Sentimental and Blatantly Stereotypical

With the exception of Inception, the Pirates of the Caribbean series, and the Harry Potter series, I like to think I don’t watch movies because of the hype that surrounds them. Or I at least don’t watch them when the hype is still fresh. So I felt safe watching The Lovely Bones the other day considering that it has been about a year since the movie has been released. While I certainly did not like the movie, I can’t say I absolutely hated it. It is more appropriate to say that the film frustrated me.

Before I begin my rant I suppose it’s necessary to provide a brief synopsis of the film. Essentially, Susie Salmon, a fourteen-year-old girl, is murdered by her neighbour George Harvey. Instead of “moving on” to heaven, Susie stays in the “In-Between” world and watches as her family and murderer deals with and tries to move on from her death. When her murderer is brought to justice, when her family is no longer fragmented and when she fulfils her dream of kissing her crush (which she does in a very Ghost-like moment wherein she inhabits the body of another girl) Susie is able to leave the In- Between and go to heaven. The end.

Now, I haven’t read the novel and there is a good chance that I won’t enjoy it if I do decide to read it, but even so, I can still tell that the film is a bastardization of the book. The characters are one-dimensional, failing to portray the complexity of grief and of losing a child/sibling (VERY disappointed in Mark Wahlberg who I generally enjoy watching onscreen), the motives of the murder are nonexistent, making George Harvey a crude villain (although I do admit that Stanley Tucci does a great job considering the limitations of his character), the in-between world itself is garish and cartoonish, and the overtly sentimental tone of the overall film (exacerbated by the unnecessary narration and maudlin script) either forced me to change the channel for a few seconds or yell “PUH-LEASE” or “COME ON” at the TV. However, none of these aspects irritated me as much as the stereotypical character Denise Le Ang a.ka. Holly Golightly, a girl Susie meets in the In-Between.

I was upset by the fact that Denise Le Ang, an East Asian girl, is a type of “Magical Minority” character in that she just appears to Susie with knowledge of the In-Between and subsequently serves as Susie’s guide through this ethereal world, which is characteristic of Magical Minority characters, such as Bagger Vance (Will Smith) in The Legend of Bagger Vance and Cash (Don Cheadle) in The Family Man. In relation, I was irked by the fact that Denise was allotted the minority best-friend role. Although it is revealed by the end of the film that she was also a victim of George Harvey’s, throughout the narrative, she is given no back story, no desires, no wishes – her only goal is to help Susie move on from the In-Between and into Heaven. She has absolutely no personality or character. Even when the film reveals that Denise died at the hands of George Harvey, Susie finds out for herself and through her narration, tells the audience. Denise isn’t even given enough agency to tell her own story – a robbery that reminded me of Edward Said’s Orientalism in which he summarizes the maxim of imperialism as being “they cannot represent themselves, they must be represented.” I do not think such a reading of Denise’s character is too much of a stretch or too heavy-handed, for film does perpetuate these types of sentiments, perhaps unconsciously, but they’re still present and prevalent and they still come through.

It is true that overall The Lovely Bones is a one-dimensional and, despite the heavy subject matter, almost frivolous film that contains a variety of stock characters from the father, Jack Salmon, to the murderer, George Harvey, to Susie herself. However, none of these characters are stereotypical and therefore none of these characters are complicit in perpetuating typecasts and imperial limitations in relation to racial minorities. I cannot say the same for Denise "Holly" Le Ang.

Glee: Refreshingly Witty but Not as Inclusive as it Prides Itself on Being

I am a Glee convert. While I didn’t give in to watching the show when its first season was still running, a few days ago I caught a rerun on TV and fell in love with it. So, I had a very intense Glee marathon the next day and now I’m up to speed and anticipating the second season premiere. But, I don’t watch Glee for the same reason others do – I could care less about the dancing and especially the singing. In fact, I find myself changing the channel whenever a song comes on. I watch the show because while I find myself rooting for certain characters, I find that none of them are actually likeable. More to the point, I think that Glee is incredibly successful in delivering satirical lines or creating satirical situations in regards to bigotry. Like The Office (at least the U.S. version) and The Simpsons, Glee’s humour shows how unpleasant and obnoxious human beings can be and some of the jokes are purposely offensive (but not insulting because the show utilizes satire well).

However, that being said, I do have my issues with Glee. While I find the satire amusing and well-done, I think that some of the moral lessons that the show chooses to teach or illustrate are extremely problematic. I’m talking about two episodes in particular. The first one that caught my attention was an episode in which the cheerleading coach, Sue, decides to disband the Glee club by creating some friction between the members who are minorities and the members who belong to more dominant groups. She does this by splitting the club in two, taking all of the minority students, which at first include: Mercedes who is Black; Kurt who is gay; Santana who is Latina; Tina who is East Asian; Artie who is paralyzed; and a few more students. I enjoyed the satirical element of this episode immensely and I found the jokes that came out of it hilarious, but then it came to the end of the episode when the moral lesson was emerging. Essentially, the minority students become fed up with the way in which Sue constantly emphasizes the fact that they are minorities and I was bothered by a line Mercedes says. She says something along the lines of: “Enough with this minority business. I may be a strong Black woman but I’m so much more than that.” Now, the wording of that line irks me. It implies that, first of all, being a Black woman is a fixed identity, one that is constructed by society rather than by the Black woman herself, and, second of all, the words “I’m so much more than that” suggests – in my view – that being a Black woman is something not to be completely proud of. Why couldn’t the line be something like “Enough with this minority business. You don’t get to define me as a Black woman”? And why was Mercedes the one who had to say that line? Why couldn’t Kurt say “I’m more than a gay man”? Or Artie: “I’m not defined by my wheelchair”? Why is it that Mercedes has to be the one who is “more” than the aspect of her identity that is minoritized? And there has to be a reason – the writers couldn’t have chosen her to say that line at random because then they’d be missing the point of their own episode.

This brings me to the other episode that bothered me. Due to feeling upstaged by their competition, the Glee club is in a “deep funk” so Mr. Shuester (the staff supervisor) explains what funk (the genre) is all about: soul, passion, anger, emotion etc. and assigns each student a funk song to present. At hearing this, Mercedes tells the other students not to bother finding a song, that she has the assignment covered, but another member, Quinn, is offended by the presumption that she (Mercedes) is the only person well-suited for the assignment. Quinn is pregnant and the father of the child is promiscuous and somewhat of a delinquent and she must deal with judgemental stares on a daily basis, therefore, she argues that she has as much pain and anger as Mercedes does. This causes Mercedes and Quinn to have an argument about race (Quinn is white) and pain, but, in the end, Quinn sings her funk song, “moves” everyone in the room and she and Mercedes become “sistas” because as Mercedes tells Quinn, “You may not be a minority but you sure know how it is sometimes.” That is completely false! Quinn’s pain is personal and despite how she may be treated as a teenage mother, she is a white teenage mother which means she is still privileged. She wouldn’t face the same stigma Black teenage mothers would face or have to deal with the fact that she is a Black woman in a racist society. The pain Mercedes would feel (since the show does imply that as a Black woman she has some) would be trauma, would be the constant struggle of defying stereotypes, of having to work twice as hard to “make it” in any industry due to racism and that type of pain is a result of colonial legacy, it goes back centuries, and it arises out of systemic racial prejudice. To compare that type of trauma to Quinn’s pain is undercutting and ignorant because it is not nearly the same.

I am glad that Glee chooses to go in depth and confront the stigmatization of certain groups or illustrate how certain groups are stereotyped – the writers use satire to depict the stereotypes Jewish people endure; there is an episode dedicated to how the club (and by extension society) undervalues Artie and how unsympathetic members are to the way in which he is limited; there is another episode about homophobia – however, I feel that Glee treats the issues and problems Black people face as irrelevant, almost like a cliché. I find a certain “been there, done that” attitude towards such a relevant, damaging, and destructive issue and, needless to say, I do not appreciate it. The only thing I can say that Glee does right when it comes to that is its refusal to victimize the Mercedes character but even so, I find it insulting and a little contradictory that the show chooses to disregard or undercut some very real issues.

Inception: Not the new Matrix. Better.

While I try my best to avoid generalizations or blanket statements, I feel it is safe to say that in the '90s, mainstream audiences considered The Matrix to be the quintessential conceptually-driven or conceptually-intelligent film. So, 11 years later, Nolan's Inception isn't exactly novel. But that isn't to say that it isn't unique. One of the fundamental differences between Inception and The Matrix (trilogy) is the lack of pretentiousness in Nolan's work; the film is most definitely intelligent and complex and expects its audience to follow along but it is also accessible and subtle in its conceptual beauty, whereas The Matrix, I feel, is a film dedicated to merely illustrating a complex concept in a maddeningly inaccessible manner as a way of showcasing the intelligent complexity. Of course, The Matrix and Inception are two very different films.

What I find brilliant about Inception is the way in which Nolan uses various cinematic techniques to enhance the fundamental concept of the film. I realize this sounds like a simple and somewhat idiotic statement, as every film uses cinematic techniques to illustrate its central idea. However, that isn't to say that every film uses these techniques well or, in fact, uses them to their full potential. This isn't the case for Inception. The script - which is undramatic, understated but intelligent and stimulating - propels the film forward with its various explications, illuminations and definitions, and every actor is able to execute the dialogue wonderfully. However, Nolan balances the informative dialogue with mise-en-scene and powerful but subtle CGI effects as a way of illustration. Furthermore, the way in which Nolan plays with sound as well as the score itself (provided by Hans Zimmer) contributes to the ethereal nature of the film while, at times, the score also emphasizes the sleek, elegant and almost film noir impression of the mise-en-scene.

Then, of course, there's the film itself. The actual concept of Inception. The way in which Nolan conflates the real world within the film and the dream world/world of the subconscious is seamless. But what makes this film any different from other movies that deal with the same sort of idea? I can't speak for anyone else, but for me, it is the film's ability to generate various interpretations on its true meaning. After I saw it, I spent a good chunk of time debating various meanings and significances with an old friend since we both had two very different ideas about what the core significance is. While I thought that the contrast between the real world and the dream world was an imperative aspect of the film since I thought that that is how Nolan plays with the audiences' heads, he didn't think that mattered at all; he thought the ending was irrelevant and looked at Inception from the perspective that the entire film was Cobb's (Leonardo DiCaprio) dream and that none of it was "real" and that was how Nolan played around with the audience. This just goes to show how well-done, subtly complex, and multi-layered this film is.

However, I will not say the film is flawless - there is no such thing as a flawless film. I think that Ariadne (Ellen Page) is a statically written character and that her relationship or connection with Cobb is underdeveloped; I still can't quite understand why he is able to trust her with the depths of his subconscious almost instantly. And while I suppose the ending is necessary to generate discussions such as the one I had with my friend, I found it to be a little bit of a typical cliffhanger, and so, I will just leave it as: I have a love/hate relationship with the ending.

In the end, I found Inception to be the best film I've seen in months. It is a testament to Nolan's skill as a director, for it could've gone horribly wrong in so many different ways and in so many different points. It is a film that immerses you in its world and enables you to think as well as keep you entertained. Not a bad way to spend a Friday night.

Sex and the City 2: Superficial, Racist, and just overall Bad

So this post was a long time coming. I meant to write it right after I saw the movie but I was sidetracked with school, work, exams etc. Anyway, here it is now. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find certain things about this sequel humorous, but, I felt a strong sense of guilt and dirtiness whenever I laughed at a joke because, at least for the last half of the movie, a joke was made at the expense of another culture.

Before I get into this post, I suppose it’s important to quickly summarize what the movie is about or at least the part I will be focusing on.

The sequel takes place two years after the prequel. Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte are all leading lives that are (supposedly) more stressful than before: Samantha, now 52, tries to keep her libido alive by using hormones and at the same time she must deal with menopause; Miranda chooses to quit her job because her chauvinist boss constantly shuts her down; Charlotte’s two daughters are a handful – the eldest is needy and the youngest constantly cries – and she’s worried Harry may have an affair with the stay-at-home nanny; and Carrie’s marriage to Mr. Big is in a rut as she wants to go out but he merely wants to stay at home, watch TV, and eat takeout.

Maybe half-an-hour into the film, Samantha is approached by an Arab sheikh to devise a PR campaign for his business, and he offers to fly her and her friends on an all-expenses-paid luxury vacation to Abu Dhabi where they are given attractive man-servants amongst many other ridiculously excessive “perks.” While in Abu Dhabi, many things take place: Carrie runs into her ex-fiancé Aidan; and Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda run up against a culture clash in the Middle East, as their style and attitudes contrast with Muslim society but none more than Samantha.

My issue is with the way the culture clash was depicted because, really, Sex and the City portrays Western views as progressive and liberating while the Islamic society is illustrated as primitive and oppressive. When the four friends discuss Western men and Western society, they all agree that while men in the States like to think they’re progressive, they really want “us [women] to wear burqas around our face.” Thus the film is stating that Western men are not progressive thinkers because they secretly harbour a desire to conform to Middle Eastern customs.

How ignorant, arrogant and completely vile is that sentiment?

Near the end of the film, when the four friends rush to make their flight, Samantha’s purse drops and a bunch of condoms fall onto the ground in the middle of a marketplace. At seeing the condoms on the ground, a group of local men begin to aggressively berate her to which Samantha yells “YES. I LIKE SEX.” A group of local women, dressed in burqas, help the four friends escape the angry mob by pulling them all into a room in which they commend Samantha for her outburst. After which, they take off their burqas and reveal they are wearing Western designer clothes beneath their traditional dress. This was supposed to be an emotional, touching and empowering moment for women but really, it was incredibly offensive. The Arabic women are only considered empowered because they’re wearing Western fashion and conform – to what the movie portrays – as Western beliefs, because we all know it’s impossible for Middle Eastern women or men to be progressive in their own cultural context.

Furthermore, the film illustrates the Islamic culture as something that is meant to be gawked at and ripped a part. When Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte first arrive at their hotel in Abu Dhabi, they go to the pool and make commentary on the burquinis (a burquini is a head-to-toe swimsuit that enables women to adhere to the Islamic dress code). If the commentary was merely informative then there wouldn’t be a problem but the commentary was meant to illustrate the swimsuit as ridiculous and oppressive and the audience was meant to laugh at the sheer ludicrousness of it. I honestly don’t understand how there has been no outcry over this movie!

And moving away from the blatant stereotyping, I don’t even understand how this movie is supposed to be empowering to women in general. Is it because the four protagonists are women? Is it because these women are sexual? Is that all it takes for a movie to be considered empowering to a female audience? None of these women have real problems to overcome! Charlotte has two daughters that cry a lot. What child doesn’t? She has a husband, a stay-at-home nanny, and she’s wealthy, and her problem is that she doesn’t have any time to herself? Puh-lease. As a child of a single mother, I was extremely insulted.

It really disheartens and angers me that the movies studios are making for female audiences consist of movies like Sex and the City 2 and the Twilight “saga”, for they are fundamentally problematic in more ways than one. That studios are also making racially prejudicial and offensive movies like Sex and the City 2 and Avatar merely prove the lack of progress we, as a society, have made in regards to race and other cultures, for film, like literature, is a mirror of the issues, prejudices, and concerns of the time and society in which it is made.