Primal Fear -- humanity and hypocrisy

Director: Gregory Hoblit, 1996. (R)

What appears to be a standard courtroom drama is actually a surprisingly suspenseful thriller with several twists that keep the film moving right up to the surprise ending. Hoblit, whose previous trial film Fracture was also under-rated, delves into the pysche to explore questions of the goodness of man. He probed evil in the form of demon possession in Fallen, but here he sticks strictly to humanity. Are we fundamentally good or not?

Set in Chicago, Archbishop Rushman is brutally murdered in his room. With blood everywhere, the main suspect is a teenage altar boy Aaron (Edward Norton), who is seen running from the scene of the crime covered in the bishop's blood. Arrested and accused of the crime, he is a stuttering naive hick en route to the hot chair with only the public defendant's office between him and a swift execution. But when hotshot lawyer Martin Vail (Richard Gere) sees this on the TV, he realizes this is prime opportunity for some free publicity, and offers his service pro bono. To complicate the matter, the prosecutor assigned is Janet Venable (Laura Linney), Vail's ex-lover.

The case proceeds to trial in a rushed and hasty manner. But as it does, Vail suspects a third man present in the bishop's quarters. Aaron's defense, as shaky as it is, rests on his blackouts and this third person. When Vail hires a psychiatrist (Frances McDormand, Fargo) to dig into Aaron's mental state she finds evidence that might clear him, if permitted.

One of the strengths of Primal Fear is the acting. This is Norton's debut and he gives a tremendous performance as a poor boy in the middle of something bigger than he can imagine. His star potential is evident in this film. Gere, already a star, is solid as an arrogant but only half-jaded attorney who still see some good in humanity. These two make the movie work.

The film gets a little confusing with a sub-plot related to property development. But this does tie in, as becomes clear later. The other plot twists move the story along at a decent pace. Venables, though, seems more trapped than Aaron. With a case that appears open-and-closed, her position becomes more and more precarious. Her final confrontation with Aaron seems over-the-top for a lawyer, and triggers the climactic interactions.

One of the issues Hoblit deals with is the make-up of mankind. Vail espouses the thinking clearly, when asked by a reporter why he defends alleged criminals:

I believe in the notion that people are innocent until proven guilty. I believe in that notion because I choose to believe in the basic goodness of people. I choose to believe that not all crimes are committed by bad people. And I try to understand that some very, very good people do some very bad things.

Innocent until proven guilty is fundamental to the justice system in the States. But the basic goodness of people is a moral and theological position. In Hoblit's eyes, good people do bad things. We could turn Melvin Tinker's book title, "Why do Bad Things Happen to Good People," around and get Hoblit's question, why do good people do bad things?

The Biblical answer to this question is that all people (except Jesus, the only sinless human) are tainted by sin (Rom. 3:10). We are not fundamentally good, in the sense of being good through and through. We may appear so from the outside. But even these "very, very good people" are corrupt. Indeed, sin has caused each of us to be morally depraved (Gen. 6:5). Each one of us is quite capable of the worst crimes committed by humanity. We can see this when we get angry. We are a hair's breath away from pulling the trigger that could end a life. More often than not we control our urges and anger. This is partly due to social expectations, partly due to judicial punishment (that would be imposed), and partly due to habit and training. But strip away the veneer of civilization and we are no better than the rest.

This is not to paint a totally gloomy picture of mankind. We can do good things. We do. All the time. But even these "are like a filthy rag" (Isa. 64:6). Our good deeds are seen by God through the eyes of our inner motives. These are self-serving. Just as Vail's offer of free legal aid was self-serving. Only when our sin nature has been replaced with a new nature in Christ can we find that our motivations become other-centered and godly.

The other major theme of Primal Fear is that of hypocrisy. It is clear from the tagline: "sooner or later a man who wears two faces forgets which one is real." Almost all the main characters are two-faced. Vail offers free legal defense but only because he gets free publicity on prime time television. Aaron has his own hypocrisy. Even the District Attorney has a hidden agenda concealed behind his execute justice slogans.

Hypocrisy is a sin that Jesus vehemently decries in the New Testament. Surrounded by hypocrites, he saved his strongest language for them: "Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites!" (Matt. 23:13) Those whose public face showed righteous character was in reality a mask hiding corruption within. Judas was another, more personal, figure who lived a hypocritical life. Though he walked with Jesus as an intimate companion for 3 years, he was secretly serving his selfish and greedy ends. He complained when the woman poured a years' worth of perfume on Jesus' feet to wash them in preparation for his death, upset because the money seemed squandered yet was pilfering to profit his own pocket book (Jn. 12:3-6). Hypocrisy is an insidious thing.

When we wear two faces it can be difficult to keep track of both. It is surely better to maintain one face, speak with one voice, and be open and transparent. When we follow Jesus, we not only have him as our defense attorney (1 Jn. 2:1), but he enables us to have victory over our hypocrisy.

Copyright ©2010, Martin Baggs

The Secret Life of Words -- isolation and fear

Director: Isabel Coixet, 2005. (NR)

Pain. Suffering. These are part of life. But when they are taken to extremes for prolonged periods, traumatic stress can result, and this can be debilitating. How do we deal with this? What are our coping mechanisms?

Coixet gives us a poignant love story of sorts between damaged characters. Since it is produced by Pedro Almodovar (All About My Mother, Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown), we can expect focus on character, and we are not disappointed. But melodrama is missing. This is slow paced and low-key, but worth the investment. She brings us face-to-face with the brutality of man without resorting to violence.

The Secret Life of Words is centered on Hanna (Sarah Polley), a European woman working in a factory. Deaf and introspective, she is a loner who makes no connections. She has worked for four years without missing a day, and when she is called into the boss' office she is afraid she is being fired. On the contrary, she is being told to take a vacation, to go relax and enjoy herself. But her work is her coping mechanism. It is her avoidance. At home, order is her retreat. She is almost obsessive-compulsive, but this is another of her coping mechanisms. At work, her hearing aid is her shield. She can turn it off and keep people away, not hearing them means no involvement. No friends, no family, she is alone and isolated.

Being forced to leave work, even for just a few weeks is an ordeal. But when she overhears a conversation in a restaurant that a nurse is needed on an oil rig she immediately volunteers. It is another job, albeit temporary, and will keep her from herself and her inner demons.

Arriving by helicopter, she finds the rig is almost abandoned. It is being shut down and there are just a handful of workers left. Her job is to care for one of them, Josef (Tim Robbins, Arlington Road), a man who was injured in a fire on the rig. He is temporarily blind, bed-ridden and cannot yet use his limbs.

As we meet the minimal crew, it is clear they are like Hanna, loners. Living apart from society, they want their space. How often are we like this, needing room? Do we withdraw, like Hanna, into our work to avoid some inner pain? Getting and staying busy will keep our minds occupied but eventually we have to face this pain. Running forever is the wrong approach. We can run but we cannot always hide. We may want to, we may feel that building a shell, a castle, will be our security and protection, but we were made for community. Sometimes the best healing comes from friendships.

As Josef begins talking to her, she cannot ignore him. She is his nurse and has to be able to hear him. So her hearing aid is turned on. His conversations are one-sided; she will not answer his questions. But slowly a picture of both comes into focus. When the cook, Simon (Javier Camara, the male nurse Benigno in Talk to Her), brings breakfast one day his interaction with Josef sparks self-revelation for Josef.

All three of these characters are afraid. They are consumed with internal fears. Josef has been involved with married women and seems afraid of a permanent relationship. Hanna is scared and scarred, both physically, psychologically, and emotionally. She is suffering survivor's guilt and shame. She is petrified that people will not like her if they really knew her, and what she has been through. She will not disclose any history for this reason. Instead, like a chameleon she disappears into her surroundings, avoiding human contact and interaction. Fragile and needy, she is unwilling to let anyone inside her defenses. Simon is an accomplished chef working as an oil rig cook. His "customers" do not appreciate the global cuisine he makes; they want hamburgers and chips! He is afraid of risking his reputation in his own restaurant. Fear is keeping all three prisoner in cages of their own making.

Josef, though, through his secret life of words, gently works his way under Hanna's skin. Ever so slowly he breaks her shell of silence. And then, taking an enormous risk, she shares her story with him. Coixet chooses to use just her words rather than visual images, flashbacks. This makes it more powerful. It is her secret life painted in words. And we see her emotional shutters slowly open, until we realize the horror that she has kept bottled up inside, with only her knowing. She has seen things and experienced horrors that would devastate a grown man. She knows the depths of man's depravity, and perhaps this is why she retreats into solitude. But once she has poured out her story, she has finally made a connection with another person. She has, for the first time in years, established an emotional relationship with someone else.

Do we ever find ourselves holding back due to fear? Perhaps there is a relationship we would like to pursue but we talk ourselves out of taking action for fear of rejection. There is safety in our cave. Or a job might push us out of our comfort zone, and so we take a safer position that leaves us unchallenged. Fear can limit our growth. Fear can cause us to come up with coping mechanisms that leave us living like mechanical robots, as Hanna was. This is not really life. Jesus came that we might have an abundant life (Jn. 10:10), a life filled with the joy of the Lord (Jn. 17:13). As we receive his love, engage with his spirit, we will find that his perfect love drives out fear (1 Jn. 4:18). We can soak in the grace that God pours out, and start living by risking.

The Secret Life of Words is a beautiful and remarkably compelling reminder that even when we feel isolated and all alone, afraid of rejection, there are still people around us who care. We just need to give them a chance to show it.

Copyright ©2010, Martin Baggs

Jurassic Park -- responsibilty and respect

Director: Steven Spielberg, 1993. (PG-13)

Almost two decades on, Jurassic Park is still a thrill. Having given the world Jaws and Indiana Jones, and before he directed Schindler's List, Spielberg directed Michael Crichton's screenplay (from his own book). The best of the trilogy of these dinosaur films, this movie was one of the first to use CGI on a large scale, and it needed to be to capture the "hero" of the film: Tyrannosaurus Rex. As we look today at films that mix computer generated imagery with reality like Avatar, it is hard to remember when CGI was a novelty and in its fantasy. Here it is used successfully and earned worthy Oscars for sound and visual effects.

The story is simple. Millionaire entrepreneur John Hammond (Richard Attenborough) has created a new theme park, Jurassic Park. A Disney Land-type environment, the exhibits are not mechanical rides but living creatures: dinosaurs. Using genetic technology and dino DNA extracted from insects encased in amber, he has brought these giants back to life as a capitalist venture. But an accident has the investors worried. And he needs testimonials from a pair of independent scientists to keep his project on track. Dr. Grant (Sam Neill) is the paleontologist; his girlfirend, Dr. Sattler (Laura Dern) is the paleobotanist. Dr. Malcolm (Jeff Goldblum), the mathetician and chaos theorist, is thrown in as the wild card (and Hammond's conscience).

When Hammond brings these scientists to his remote tropical island, their initial reaction, upon seeing herds of dinosaurs roaming free, is spectacular. And it is not unlike our own reaction the first time we see these creatures, especially if it is on the big screen. Unbelievable! (I had a similar reaction when seeing the 3D creatures in Avatar recently.) The objects of their lives' work digging up bones are running just feet away from them.

What makes Jurassic Park so good is its pacing. Spielberg tempts us with the bait of dinosaurs, and especially T-Rex, but we have to wait almost half the film to see the monster. He allows the characters time, like us, to marvel at the theme park idea. But he amps up the suspense with a tropical storm and a mercenary geek.

The story moves into high gear when the nerd computer scientist turns off the electricity and the security systems, allowing the dinosaurs to escape their paddocks. With this comes the first sighting of T-Rex, and the famous jeep chase. Added to that are the velociraptors, smaller but more cunning than Rex. These beasts hunt in packs, run like cheetahs, and can even open doors. The third act, where Hammond's two grandchildren are trapped in the kitchen with two raptors hunting them, is as intense and suspenseful as any recent movie.

But Jurassic Park is more than just escapist nonsense. Within this exciting thriller, Spielberg explores man's intrusion into, and commercialization (even destruction) of, nature. Malcolm is the foil who embodies all the social messages of this movie. With a quick wit and a sharp tongue, he gives the film its memorable quotes.

Early on, Malcolm offers the observation, "The lack of humility before nature that's being displayed here, uh . . . staggers me." He goes on, "If there is one thing that the history of evolution has taught us it's that life will not be contained. Life breaks free, expands to new territory, and crashes through barriers, painfully, maybe even dangerously."

The so-called "cultural mandate," given in Genesis 1 to mankind to "be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it" (Gen. 1:28) is often seen as a mandate to harness the natural world. More likely, it is a mission to care for the world of nature. Unlike Hammond, we don't have free rein to create whatever we want for our own personal profit. Hammond's motivation was the almighty dollar. He even created the knick-knacks to market with his park. But the world of nature is one that is wild and dangerous. We must be wary of trying to tame it, especially if it is just for cash. It warrants our respect. If that is missing we stand to lose more than our money, as some in this film find out.

Though the movie is clearly evolution-centric, Malcolm quips, "God creates dinosaurs. God destroys dinosaurs. Man destroys God. Man creates dinosaurs. . . " Regardless of the type of evolution in mind, micro or macro, God is still the Creator. Malcolm has it right. God creates (Gen. 1:1). He made all creatures. But Malcolm is wrong on God's destruction. Man has not and cannot destroy God. God is above mankind. If we could destroy him he would not be God! Although man has tried to replace God, the creature cannot obsolete the Creator, as Hammond eventually finds out to his chagrin.

Malcolm brings up the ethics of technology: "Yeah, but your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should." Ethics forces us to ask the "should" questions. Just because we can do something does not make it right. This could be translated into modern bio-ethics. For example, just because we can do stem cell research does not necessarily mean we should. Such questions deserve lengthy discussion and debate. And the answers should not be driven by capitalism. Morality must stand above simple profit and loss statements. It is ironic that it was technology that enabled the creation of these dinosaurs for this movie, and it is technology that comes under its attack.

There is a root problem inherent within Jurassic Park's creators. Malcolm sums it up:

I'll tell you the problem with the scientific power that you're using here: it didn't require any discipline to attain it. You read what others had done and you took the next step. You didn't earn the knowledge for yourselves, so you don't take any responsibility. . . for it. You stood on the shoulders of geniuses to accomplish something as fast as you could and before you even knew what you had you patented it and packaged it and slapped it on a plastic lunchbox, and now . . . you're selling it.

Hard work researching and refining something can force us to evaluate the value of our result. But when we simply rip off someone else's ideas or work, we have no context for this. We lose the sense of responsibilty. And there is implicit danger and risk in this: "Don't you see the danger, John, inherent in what you're doing here? Genetic power is the most awesome force the planet's ever witnessed, yet you wield it like a kid that's found his dad's gun." Until and unless we understand the gravity of what we are doing we are like ignorant children. As our technological advances move us towards ravaging the land or cloning a man, we must take care to understand the causes driving us and the morality of their possible consequences. It takes an honest man to speak up in these cases.

In Jurassic Park, the humans are left in a desperate race for survival, but survival of the fittest requires a little help from the hero. Responsibility for technology and respect for nature finally come home to rest. Is this a message we need to hear?

Copyright ©2010, Martin Baggs

Changeling -- power of a mother's love

Director: Clint Eastwood, 2008.

Imagine leaving your child home alone and when you come home from work find he is gone. What a dreadful sinking feeling. Now imagine that he is found and brought home to you. But at the moment of reunion you see he is not your son. He is a changeling. That would be almost as bad. But then consider the authorities telling you that you are wrong. You might feel powerless and defeated. That is the heart of Eastwood's film here.

Clint has directed some powerhouse films over the last decade, including Oscar winner Million Dollar Baby, his Iwo Jima pair (Flags of Our Fathers and Letters from Iwo Jima), Mystic River, and last year's terrific Gran Torino. Changeling seems a little lighter tan these despite the gravity of the ploth, its emotional story and strong acting from Jolie, who garnered an Oscar nomination for this role. Eastwood's own score adds to the mood, but it is the length and pacing that is a problem. It is a shade too long and it starts to ebb in the last half-hour. Yet it is still a good movie.

Set in Los Angeles in 1928, this is based on the true story of Christine Collins (Angelina Jolie, Wanted). She is a roller-skating supervisor at the local telephone exchange and a single mother to 9-year-old Walter (Gattlin Griffith). When she returns home from an unexpected Saturday of overtime, her son has vanished without a trace. No one has seen him. The police are no help, as they tell her she needs to wait to report a missing child. Eventually they file a report and put out an APB for him, but to no avail. When they come to her workplace 5 months later to tell her Walter has been found in Illinois, she is overcome with emotion. The problem is, that the boy who returns by train, courtesy of the LAPD, is not Walter. He is shorter and has other physical differences. But to admit their error would be an embarrassment so the police persuade Christine to accept this changeling as her son; after all, she hasn't seen Walter in 5 months and might have forgotten what he looks like.

As the truth hits home that the police have closed the case as her missing "son" has been found, Christine politely starts to push back against the system. On her side is Rev. Gustav Briegleb (John Malkovich), Pastor of the St. Paul Presbyterian Church. In that day, the LAPD was notorious for incompetence, violence and corruption. They were, in some cases, worse than the criminals they were trying to catch. With a radio show and a pulpit, Briegleb becomes a thorn in the LAPD flesh.

Briegleb's mission, to fight the police corruption, harkens back to the prophets of the Old Testament. Theirs was a call for social justice, exposing all manner of injustice. They were God's spokesmen in the fight against evil and corruption that was often rampant, even amongst the Israelites (Isa. 1:21-27), God's chosen nation (Lev. 26:12; 2 Sam. 7:23). They decried injustice and called out for repentance, a turning back to God's laws and the way of equity and justice. Micah proclaimed what God required of man: "To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God" (Mic. 6:8). Like Briegleb, though, the prophets were often ignored, sometimes punished (1 Kings 19:10), but nevertheless used by God for his purposes.

But the film is centered on Christine and is anchored by Jolie's performance, not Briegleb. As she deals with her pain, she becomes visibly tougher. In one scene she reflects back, "I used to tell Walter, 'Never start a fight . . . but always finish it.' I didn't start this fight . . . but by God, I'm going to finish it." She will fight to get her son back.

Christine Collins' message is a lesson for us. She is polite to those in authority and will not start a fight with them. Jesus told his followers in his Sermon on the Mount, "Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other one also" (Matt. 5:39). A number of times Christine figuratively turns the other cheek. But when forced into the corner, with no other options left, she has to fight for what she believes in -- her son. She counts the cost, understands intellectually the price she might pay, but undertakes the mission. We, too, must do that. At times we will be called on to count the cost and go out into the fray, expecting that we will pay a heavy price. German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer fought back against the Nazis by continuing to preach the gospel, and he paid the price with his life. Some fights are necessary to finish.

Christine's gritty determination fuels her relentless quest for the truth and for her son. But this puts her at odds with the police, who still want her to accept the changeling as Walter, which she insists she will not do. Using intimidation tactics, they accuse her of hysteria and worse, and lock her in a mental asylum. The corruption and perversion of power is pervasive. The scenes in the mental hospital are among the most wrenching, but underscore Christine's resolve, and highlight Jolie's acting strength. (We recall that she won her Supporting Actress Oscar for the 1999 role of an asylum inmate in Girl Interrupted; here she is "Mother Interrupted," and lost this Oscar to Kate Winslett for The Reader.)

Changeling paints a picture of the profound power of a mother's love. Mothers have an innate protective nature when it comes to their offspring, more so even than fathers. They will do almost anything to shield their young from danger. Jesus shows this very same attitude, demonstrating that God has both feminine as well as masculine qualities, when he cried out in his last days on earth, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing" (Matt. 23:37). The love of God knows no gender boundaries.

A final biblical parallel springs to mind from the way Christine was treated by the police. Harrassed and helpless, they called her essentially a liar or a lunatic. This is so similar to the famous lines from C.S. Lewis' classic book, "Mere Christianity:

I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept his claim to be God. That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic - on the level with a man who says he is a poached egg - or he would be the devil of hell. You must take your choice. Either this was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us.

Lewis said you can only call Jesus liar, lunatic or Lord. Our choices are limited. Those who have tasted have found him to be the one true Lord.

Copyright ©2010, Martin Baggs