The Dark Knight Rises (2012)

If you have not seen Batman Begins and The Dark Knight, you should before you see Rises.  Nolan brilliantly weaves themes and characters from the first two films into Rises, much to the delight of Bat-fans. Rises picks up months after Dark Knight. The lie that Batman created for Gotham that Harvey Dent was the hero, despite his transformation into Two-Face. Thanks to the Dent Act, in memory of Harvey, the streets of Gotham have been swept clean of organized crime. For the first time in decades, the city knows peace. It is a city without the need for Batman. As such, Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) has secluded himself in the east wing of Wayne Manor.

With the city and Bruce Wayne vulnerable, Bane (Tom Hardy of Nolan’s Inception) enters the story. Bane is quite possibly the epitome of evil. His presence alone is intimidating due to the way he carries his physical bulk.  And never mind the Hannibal Lector-like mask he wears. He speaks in a calm and thoughtful manner, that reminds you of a great philosopher, yet he can break a neck in a single twist. A mercenary who speaks of revolution, Bane exploits the class warfare already in existence for his own means; for his own power.

As Bane and his goons wreak havoc in Gotham – which looks more and more like New York – Bruce must decide if he will rise from the self-inflicted daze to regain his vocation as the Batman. The question, however, shifts from, “Can he?” to “Should he?” The answer, as is true for most of Nolan’s films, is nowhere near simple. In a Jonah-in-the-whale kind of way, Bruce is imprisoned in Bane’s prison where he heals physically and emotionally. As Bruce catapults out of the prison’s hole, he claims his mission and sets out to wear the mask and cape.

In the midst of all of this, there is a mysterious woman in a cat costume.  Catwoman, or Selina Kyle is played by Anne Hathaway.  Hathaway handles the role of Catwoman in such a casual way that it makes us think, “Of course she’s the Catwoman.” Her morality is as flexible as her body, which is no wonder she and Batman seem to have a kinship.

The Dark Knight Rises does what every great film should do – spark conversation on the drive home. And I don’t mean conversations about how awesome the special effects were. I mean conversations about the themes and statements the film is saying about humanity.

Catwoman embodies one of the many themes in this film: grace. She is searching for ways to clear her slate, erase her record. She was made promises by Bane’s people that never came to fruition. Wayne/Batman offers her the same BEFORE she does anything. As a result, she offers assistance to help him find Bane.  But, it turns out to be a trap.  Even so, Wayne/Batman offers her grace and a chance to be a part of the redeeming of Gotham.

“Born in hell, forged from suffering, hardened by pain.” That line from the film is about Bane. It could easily be about Bruce Wayne as well. Both men have been forged from suffering and hardened by pain. The difference is how the men response to this tragedy/crisis/struggle. Like Jonah, Bane prefers vengeance to those who have done wrong. Like Jonah, Bruce Wayne rises above his own struggles to reclaim a commitment he has made to do good. And like Jonah, grace is the lesson learned. We rise because we have grace.

The film is the home to many more themes and theological ponderings. Too many to name and discuss here. One question remains, though, what will the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences do with the Batman?

To read more movie and television reviews, go to hollywoodjesus.com.

Camelot (1967)

Some have called it sappy. Others have called it a flawed musical. Still others call it a medieval fantasy. Whatever you call it Camelothas a place in classic American cinema.

This 1967 film directed by Joshua Logan was adapted from the Broadway musical of the same title. Though widely accepted that it was not a great cinematic feature (the Academy Awards it did win were all in costumes and set design), the film benefited greatly from the times. In the 1960s there was a deep fascination with Camelot and King Arthur’s narrative. So much so that it drew comparisons to the royalty of the United States: the Kennedys. The Kennedys loved the musical. According to the First Lady, she and the President would listen to the soundtrack of the musical at the end of the each evening.

Whether it was intentional or not, the film pays homage to the assassinated President Kennedy.  As the film opens it is draped in mystery as Arthur (Richard Harris, probably best known as Albus Dumbledore in the first two Harry Potter films) sits in the damp and misty forest calling upon Merlyn, the mystic magician. Arthur is about to go into battle, though he would prefer to avoid it. In this state of uncertainty he cries out to Merlyn (Laurence Naismith), who instructs Arthur to remember the day he met Guenevere (wonderfully played by Vanessa Redgrave). From here the film goes back to that day and we follow along as the story of this romance unfolds.

But the film is about more than just a romantic tale of King and Queen, and more than just the love triangle that develops when Lancelot (Franco Nero) is introduced to the narrative. Arthur wants to bring about social change. As he tells Guenevere, “Merlyn taught me to think without boundaries.” Arthur ponders how peaceful the kingdom would be if disagreements were not settled by violence. As he dreams about this with Guenevere, he images a round table that they would all sit at to discuss these issues.  A round table, not a square table, so no one may be seated at the head of the table.  Not everyone in his kingdom buys into this image as easily as the French knight Lancelot.

Lancelot rides into town with great respect for King Arthur. He is filled with excited hope to witness this new vision of kingdom. And to some extent that is what Lancelot represents in this film. Excited hopefulness. An excited hope fueled by Lancelot’s desire to do good and to right wrongs. Lancelot is the only French knight of the Table. Lancelot comes because Arthur’s vision gives him hope.

But Lancelot is also a religious voice in this film. A majority of the characters never really say much about religion. When we first meet Guenevere she is praying to some goddess. Meryln seems to be a holy figure to Arthur. But for Lancelot, he expresses without apology his Christian faith. In a jousting contest, Lancelot hits his opponent hard enough to knock him off his horse and leave him wounded. Arthur pronounces the knight dead. Lancelot looks on from his horse, uncertain about what he should or shouldn’t do. He eventually jumps off his horse, removes the King’s cloak from the dead man, grabs his face into his hands and beings to pray. As he does so, he is weeping. The man eventually opens his eyes. The people are amazed, including Guenevere.

From here Lancelot’s romance with Guenevere begins. He feels that God has led him to her. He begs for forgiveness because he knows it his wrong to be in love with a woman who is married. Yet, the romance continues. In the meantime Arthur is developing his dream. The Round Table is becoming a reality. The vision is extended from nations and knights to the common people. Courts are developed where disagreements can be settled.

Arthur’s vision of a peaceful kingdom is threatened when a young man named Mordred comes into town. When Mordred relieves that he is Arthur’s illegitimate son, Arthur takes him under his wing. But Mordred has his own agenda. Mordred uses Arthur’s vision against him in an attempt to overthrow him as king. They catch Guenevere and Lancelot expressing their love and drag them to King Arthur where Mordred reminds him about his vision of courts and juries handling matters like this.

A trial is held and the jury decides that Guenevere is guilty of treason and is to be put to death by burning at the stake. One character says, “Your table has cracked, Arthur.” Arthur calls upon Meryln that night: “They forgot justice.” Without justice, the vision of the new kingdom is ruined.

Seeking justice without violence is a major theme throughout the Old Testament prophets. The ancient Hebrews believed that injustice equated the absence of God. The prophet Habakkuk pleas with God about ending the violence and the injustice.  He pleads for God’s presence to be felt, to be known.  God repeatedly responds back that in time things will change. In the gospels the disciples and others long for the day when Jesus will lead them to victory over the oppressive Romans. But the Kingdom that Jesus preached about in the Gospels was a different kind of vision. A vision of peace and all at table.

As in Arthur’s time, the vision requires thinking outside of the boundaries. As such, the vision has been difficult to achieve. But, let us hold on to excited hopefulness for the Kingdom.

Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams

This is the final scene from season two of HBO’s Treme, a television drama about the recovering of New Orleans, post-Katrina. This montage features Louis Armstrong’s classic “Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams.” What do you do with your troubles?

You can click here to read my review of the season two Blu-ray at HollywoodJesus.com.

Hugo (2011)

Confession: I’m not a huge fan of 3D.

Confession: I’m a huge fan of Martin Scorsese.

Scorsese, in my humble opinion, is one of the greatest storytellers of our generation. At some point in my life I came across this quote from Scorsese: “It is as though movies answered an ancient quest for the common unconscious. They fulfill a spiritual need that people have to share a common memory.” This philosophy/theology is the backbone for Scorsese’s newest film Hugo.

The film is set in 1930s Paris, with the elegant Eiffel Tower as a backdrop. Hugo (played by Asa Butterfield) is an orphan who lives in the walls of the train station. He knows every nook and cranny of the building. He observes carefully the daily activities of the train station regulars in order to snatch food when able. In between snatching food for survival and keeping the clocks in the station running in the absence of his drunken uncle, he carefully observes the old man at the toy booth. He patiently waits until the old man—whom we later learn is George Méliés (Ben Kingsley), a great filmmaker—falls asleep to sneak up to the booth and grab spare parts.

The spare parts are for the hidden automaton that Hugo’s father (Jude Law) was fixing. This is the only remaining thing he has to connect with his dead father. The mystery of the automaton leads Hugo and his new friend Isabelle (Chloe Grace Moretz), George’s goddaughter, on an adventure through the magical world of cinema that leads to the true identity of George Méliés.

Scorsese, in his own right, is a film scholar. As such, the film brilliantly weaves the humble beginnings of silent film into a story about the quest for purpose. The nonworking automaton represents broken humanity. “If we lose our purpose,” Hugo says, “it’s like we’re broken.” There are pieces missing that we must find in order to fulfill our purpose. The missing piece for George is reclaiming his past in the film industry he has tried to bury. “Forgetting the past only brings unhappiness,” Hugo’s wisdom continues.

Remembering the past, something Hugo does throughout the film as he tries to piece together the mystery of the automaton, is something that George is reluctant to do. The film turns the typical understanding of the wise old man teaching the young boy on its head—much like Jesus did in the Gospels. In Matthew 18:3, Jesus says to his disciples, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” To change and become like a child is to reject standards—the “norms”—of the world. This is the contrast the film presents between Hugo/Isabelle and George. The standards of the world do not heavily influence Hugo and Isabelle. George has seen too much, experienced too much, lost too much to the point where remembering is painful. Hugo and Isabelle scheme to bring the last surviving film made by George to George. This moment of viewing this film together becomes, as the Scorsese quote above says, the fulfillment of “a spiritual need.” For George the past he was trying so hard to forget, was his very identity as a filmmaker. Discovering who we are is indeed a spiritual quest.

In short, the film is brilliant in every way. Scorsese uses the medium of 3D to enhance his storytelling capabilities. I have to agree with James Cameron when he said at the Director’s Guild in LA, “It’s absolutely the best 3D photography that I’ve seen.” Except for the awkward 3D glasses you have to wear, you don’t realize it’s a “3D film.” It’s more than that. Scorsese pushes this technology and embraces it, as Cameron says, as part of his medium. So, while I’m not a huge fan of 3D, I have become a fan of Scorsese’s 3D, and hope to see more 3D films like this one. Like many things, 3D is far superior in the hands of Martin Scorsese.