The Master -- confusion and cults

Director: Paul Thomas Anderson, 2012. (R)

Like his previous film, There Will be Blood, Anderson’s latest movie is deep and dense and somewhat perplexing.  With slow pacing and some mystifying scenes, I emerged from the theater once again wondering at Anderson’s product.

The movie centers on two men. We meet one right at the start. Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix, Two Lovers). The protagonist is a sailor serving at the end of WW2. Clearly suffering some post-traumatic stress disorder, he finds work as a department store photographer. But he is a troubled man, who cares mostly about easy sex and strong drinks. Indeed, his chief talent seems to be able to create alcoholic concoctions from anything to hand, including airline fuel, paint thinner and medicine. But somehow his hooch tastes great. But when his drink seems to put one old man on his deathbed, Freddie up and runs, finding himself jumping aboard a small cruise ship, that is hosting a wedding, as a stowaway.

This ship is being chartered by the second man, Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman). When he meets Freddie, he tells him, “I am a writer, a doctor, a nuclear physicist and a theoretical philosopher. But above all, I am a man, a hopelessly inquisitive man, just like you.” And when he samples Freddie’s drink, they form an unlikely bond. Dodd is on board with his wife Peggy (Amy Adams, The Fighter), and throwing a wedding for his daughter. But he is really the Master of a cult known as “The Cause.”  More than anything, it seems Dodd sees Freddy as a project: if he can bring him into the cult and help him process his baggage, he can do it for anyone. And so Freddy becomes one of Dodd’s groupies, almost a family member and something of a protégé.

En route to New York from San Francisco, Dodd begins the processing of Freddie, a series of focused one-on-one interviews that seeks to get to the hidden memories deep within.

Although Anderson does not spend too much time outlining the tenets of the Cause, some of them come across. They believe that human spirits are trillions of years old and continue to be reborn or recycled in new vessel bodies. By processing, Dodd seeks to purge the earlier traumas and animal behavior that keeps them from progressing to a perfect state, which is their end goal. It ultimately seeks self-mastery, where there are no psychological or health problems.

The movie has caused controversy for its parallel with Scientology. Dodd is viewed as a version of L. Ron Hubbard, the man who started the Scientology movement in the post-war era. The beliefs mirror those of Scientology in many ways. But the film is more than an attack on Scientology. It is a treatise on human nature and a character study of two men who seem so opposite but have more in common than just the love of alcohol.

While the film is complex and difficult both in tone and content, the acting is sublime. Phoenix, who has not acted since his “retirement” to focus on music, gives an outstanding performance wearing his emotions on his sleeve, or at least on his face. Hoffman matches him scene for scene, and both, along with Adams, were worth their Oscar nominations.

At one point Dodd tells Freddie, “Man is not an animal. We are not a part of the animal kingdom. We sit far above that crown, perched as spirits, not beasts.” And he is correct, biblically. God created man last of all, after all the animals. He made him in the very image of God, something no animal can claim. And he placed him in a position of ruler ship over the animal kingdom (Gen.1:26).  There is truth in Dodd’s claim, as in every cult. They typically bear some truth.

Yet, Dodd goes on in this very same scene, “I have unlocked and discovered a secret to living in these bodies that we hold.” Herein lies the lie. Cult leaders always carry the secret, they have discovered the special truth. Sometimes they, like Joseph Smith the founder of the Mormon Church, have been the ones to speak directly to God. They have the message that alone unlocks the secret to life. Dodd is no cult leader exception.

Two scenes stand out. The first is in New York, where Dodd and his group are guests at a society party. As Dodd pontificates on his beliefs, one man stands alone, and begins to interrupt, to dispute with Dodd. When he says, “I belong to no club, if you’re unwilling to allow any discussion,” Dodd gets very upset. He loses his cool and control, cursing out the man. In the second scene, both Dodd and Freddie are in adjacent police cells. While Freddie is physically throwing himself around, swearing like a sailor, Dodd stands unshackled in his cell. Once more he seems to be the master of self-control. But slowly his mask falls off, and he loses his control until both are banging on the walls and cursing at the top of their lungs. Neither have control, they are mirror images of one another. Self-mastery is missing even from the Master.

The crux of the film is captured in another scene when Dodd claims, “If you figure a way to live without serving a master, any master, then let the rest of know, will you? For you’d be the first person in the history of the world.” Can we live without a master? The Cause would have us seek to get there, relying for the moment on the direction of the Master, Dodd himself (even though one of his sons admits, “He’s making this stuff up as he goes along,” and w realize the truth in this when he reads from his second book). But does the Cause offer hope and growth to Freddie? Not really, he seems no better off from Dodd’s processing. He may be better clothed, but his animalistic urges remain, just better veiled.

The Bible shows Jesus’ disciples calling him Master (Lk. 5:5). And in the famous Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says, ““No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money” (Matt.6:24). The point here, though, is that we will serve a master and that master cannot be shared. The choices are God or someone or something else. But that something else is not self, since we are by nature slaves to sin (Rom. 6:6). When we were yoked to sin, we were knowingly or unknowingly serving Satan as master. We can choose to be freed from this slavery by following Jesus as our new Master (Rom. 6;17). But that is to transfer allegiance from one master to another, to let God rescue us “from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves” (Col. 1:13). Like Freddie, we cannot attain true self-mastery and have no need of a Master. We will have a master. Will it be Jesus?

 Copyright ©2013, Martin Baggs

Ghost Town -- life and unfinished business

Director: David Koepp, 2008 (PG-13)

You gotta love a romantic comedy where the male lead is a misanthropic British dentist. Bertrum Pincus (Ricky Gervais, The Invention of Lying) is no God’s gift to women. No hunk, he is rude and obnoxious. He keeps his Manhattan dental office tidy and his next-door apartment even tidier. Neither has even a hint of personality. He wants to be alone, avoiding people. Such a life, he thinks, will prevent pain like his own shot of novocaine.

Indeed, life is a central theme, in one way or another.

But we are getting ahead of ourselves. The movie opens with another man, Frank (Greg Kinnear), talking on the phone to his wife. Frank is a philandering jerk, but one that is about to die. When he is killed, he finds himself still trapped in New York, seeing but never being seen. He is lost amidst the millions of other lost souls who are invisibly walking the streets of New York City. Enter Dr. Pincus. Through an accident during a routine colonoscopy, he lay dead for 7 minutes. As he tells Frank, “I was dead and now they brought me back. I can …” He is the only person in the Big Apple who can see the dead. Frank replies, “The dead have a lot of unfinished business, which is why we’re still here.”

For Frank, his unfinished business is Gwen (Tea Leoni, Flirting with Disaster), his widow who is an Egyptologist. She is preparing to get remarried, to Richard (Billy Campbell), a philanthropic lawyer. Frank wants Pincus to stop their impending marriage. What is Pincus’ incentive? Frank will stop him being pestered (haunted?) by all the other NYC ghosts that seek their own closure to their own unfinished business.

It turns out the Gwen lives in the same apartment building as Pincus. She even knows him vaguely – as someone who is rude! But a romantic comedy has to pair up two people, and we expect one of them at least to change. In this case, we know Pincus must, as Gwen does not like him as he is.

The comedy comes from Gervais’ sharply biting and sarcastic tongue complemented by Leoni’s perfect timing. Together, they bring to life what could have been a flop if performed by other actors. Kinnear’s charm is hidden here beneath a caustic exterior. But the movie has a heart and offers some life-lessons without being too obvious and preachy.

The first lesson is on life itself. Gwen tells Pincus, in one dinner scene, “We just get the one life, you know. Just one. You can’t live someone else’s or think it’s more important just because it’s more dramatic. What happens matters. Maybe only to us, but it matters.” Though Pincus doesn’t seem to need this advice, we probably do.

Too many of us subscribe to Andy Warhol’s vision of our own 15 minutes of fame. We want to be rich and famous, making a difference. Or we look at other’s and wish we could inhabit their lives. Gwen’s advice contradicts these precepts. Life is unique. We are all individuals, distinct, different. God told his prophet Jeremiah, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you” (Jer. 1”5). What is true for him, is true for all of us. God has formed each of us for our very own story. History is made up of many individual stories. We must choose to live out our own stories, not seeking to be like others.

Pincus, though, doesn’t want to live for anyone but himself. He lives at the center of his own universe, without regard for anyone else. It takes another dentist, Dr. Prashar (Aasif Mandvi), and the dead to convince him that living for self has little value. Living for others becomes the central thesis.

Of course, this is eminently biblical. Pincus is the poster child for Proverbs 18:1: “An unfriendly man pursues selfish ends.” Selfish ambition is mentioned in the context of commands against sin both by Paul (Gal. 5:20) and James (3:14, 16). In contrast, Paul says, “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves” (Phil. 2:3). Selflessness is at the very heart of the gospel, and Jesus is its example. He lived and died for others, regardless of cost to him.

There is a twist in the unfinished business, but this sub-plot offers us a closing thought. We all have unfinished business. We close each day with our to-do lists unfinished. We go to sleep with relationships unfinished. But we “do not know what a day may bring forth” (Prov. 27:1). Tomorrow may not come for some. So, let’s make the most of life. Let’s love our families. Let’s live for others.

We know we will certainly die with some unfinished business. But we should try to minimize this, at least in our most important relationships.

 Copyright ©2013, Martin Baggs

Zero Dark Thirty -- torture and its effects

Director: Kathryn Bigelow, 2012 (R)

Kathryn Bigelow achieved fame with her Oscar win for the superb chaos of war movie, The HurtLocker in 2010. What she did for the war in the Middle East she does for the war on Al Qaeda in this superb and intense spy thriller. Nominated for a Best Picture Academy Award, it won’t win as it is morally complex and has stirred up trouble in Hollywood for its depiction of torture. Most notably, she was snubbed a nomination for Best Director as a result.

The movie is about the hunt for and the killing of Osama Bin Laden, and it is reputedly based on first-hand accounts. It is centered on Maya (a superb Jessica Chastain, The Tree ofLife, another actress who seems to be everywhere these days), a young CIA agent whose single-minded obsessions ultimately leads to the successful conclusion of this hunt.

The opening scene is all sound and no picture. Against a black screen, we listen to the actual recordings of the phone calls made from the hijacked airliners on 9/11 in 2001. As we hear the fateful voices of those doomed to die in those terrible terrorist attacks that transformed our country, the mood is established. We all remember that fateful day. We remember where we were when we saw the twin towers come down. And we remember the violence perpetrated against a vulnerable public. This sets us up for the hunt for justice, or vengeance, that took another decade.

Zero Dark Thirty is military speak for 30 minutes after midnight, that time when the final assault on Bin Laden’s secret hideout in Abbottabad, Pakistan occurred. The film itself takes two hours and two acts to get to this third and final half-hour. But it needs to do so, to establish how much it took to find Bin Laden, and how much it cost, both for the hunters and the hunted.

The first act focuses on the years after 2001, when Maya and her CIA colleagues follow lead after lead to try to get to Bin Laden. Although somewhat confusing at times, it conveys the sense of frustration when leads culminate in dead ends. The stress of the job takes its toll just as investigative work takes its time. She has support from Dan (Jason Clarke), her CIA superior, even as she seems blocked at times by the head of the CIA in Islamabad Pakistan (Kyle Chandler), who seems more worried about the politics than the purpose.

It is in the first act, even the first few scenes, that the acts of torture, or “enhanced interrogation,” are prominent. The first visual scene is powerful. Dan (Jason Clarke), a seasoned CIA interrogator, walks into a black site somewhere in the world, accompanied by several people in ski masks. Maya is one of the masked operatives. Standing imprisoned is an Al Qaedi. Dan tells this prisoner quietly , “Can I be honest with you?  I’m not your friend. I’m not gonna help you. I’m gonna break you.” He goes on, “When you lie to me, I hurt you.” And he does, in a number of ways that force us as viewers to cringe and wonder if this torture will be effective. And when he says, “It’s cool, that you’re strong and I respect it. But in the end, everybody breaks, bro. It’s biology,” we believe it. We just wonder what it will take. It takes a couple of scenes of waterboarding, that technique that has been bashed by most people as horrible but has come to be most closely associated with the torture in the aftermath of 9/11.

Torture is one of the ethical dilemmas of the film. Acting CIA Director Michael Morrell, in a rare incident, issued a statement about the film questioning its historical accuracy and contradicting the assertion that torture had been of any significant benefit in locating Bin Laden. Moreover, liberal actors, including Martin Sheen, organized a public condemnation of the film for what they claimed is its tolerance of torture. Bigelow, though, has stated that she is merely depicting what took place, neither endorsing or condemning it. Indeed, she seems to go out of her way to avoid giving an opinion on torture. Like her troubled heroine, she seems conflicted about this morally complex dilemma.

In contrast, Paul Miller, assistant professor of International Security Affairs at the National Defense University in Washington DC, offers a strong response to such liberals. As one who has served in the army in Afghanistan and in the CIA as an analyst over the last decade, his credentials for an opinion seem unquestionable. In an article published in Christianity Today’s Books and Culture entitled "Justice at Zero Dark Thirty", he says:

“The scene of waterboarding that Bigelow included in the movie is an accurate dramatization. If waterboarding itself did not literally provide the crucial link in the hunt for bin Laden, I am absolutely certain that some of the "enhanced interrogation" the United States conducted after 9/11 has been instrumental in preventing another 9/11 and keeping al-Qaida on the run. Let me say that again. With all the weight of ten years of work in the Army, the CIA, and the White House, I am absolutely certain that there would have been at least one, if not more, successful, large-scale terrorist attacks on the United States without the "gloves-off" measures used in the last decade.”

He goes on to ask, “Is that just? Are torture and assassination permissible tools of self-defense?” He refers to Paul’s words in Romans 13 about the moral duty of government to protect its citizens, and concludes that if executing a war criminal is justified so is enhanced interrogation to gather the information necessary to find that war criminal.

One of the three key scenes I took away from the film occurs as Maya is watching with her colleagues as President Obama is giving a TV interview. He declares that there will be no more torture, and this juxtaposes with the first act to transition the second act to straightforward investigation apart from torture. Maya seems saddened if not conflicted by this. As with the film, I will leave this issue for readers to work through themselves; Miller’s article is a worthy read.

The second act focuses on the hunt once a name has been found. A close courier to Bin Laden identified, and the real hunt is on. Even then, it is slow and methodical work, with two steps back for every three steps forward.

It is in the third act, that this gripping spy thriller turns into a subdued action film. Here, Maya’s work culminates in a Navy Seal operation to go in under cover of darkness to kill Bin Laden. Using shaky-cam techniques, we vicariously go in with this team of experts not knowing for certain if he is even there.  Playing out in almost real time, there is an intense feel, as we wonder even as we know the outcome.

The second theme of the film is the effects of this obsession on Maya.  Jessica Chastain delivers a stunning Oscar-worthy performance (and she is nominated for Best Actress) as a person whose obsession drives the chase even when others are ready to give it up. But it changes her.

The opening scene of torture is key. She enters the interrogation room with a ski mask covering her face. But, when she goes back in moments later, she elects to leave her face bare, like Dan. She will face this for unprotected. She is in it 100%.

From rookie operative first joining Dan’s team in Pakistan, the life of a CIA agent in a “friendly” country adjacent to Afghanistan begins to take its toll. Two bombings, one in a hotel and one in a military facility, shake her to the core.  But it’s the third scene, after she is back at CIA HQ in Langley where her confidence becomes apparent. She has already pointed out, “You can’t run a global network of interconnected cells from a cave.” Unlike her CIA counterparts who think Bin Laden is still in Afghanistan, she believes he is in a compound in Pakistan. When asked by the Director of the CIA if they believe Bin Laden is in the compound, most of her colleagues dance around the answer, saying they are 50% or 60% confident. Even Dan, her mentor (himself deeply impacted by his part in the torture), won’t back her at this point. Yet, she states unambiguously she is 100% confident. She is ready to drop a bomb on the compound!

Maya goes from confused rookie, to conflicted leader, to confident facilitator. And at the end, she is watching her team take action based on her intelligence.

The final scene at the conclusion focuses the camera on Maya’s face. In close-up, we see a single tear run down her face, and we are left to wonder: is she satisfied? Is she emotionally scarred? Will she go on? The movie leaves these questions unanswered.

Copyright ©2013, Martin Baggs

Flight -- drugs, denial, deception and confession

Director: Robert Zemeckis, 2012 (R)

In January 2009 Captain “Sully” Sullenberger piloted a  disabled plane, landing it in the Hudson River of Manhattan in New York. All 155 passengers and crew survived. Sully emerged a true American hero. Now imagine if Sully had been drunk during this event and you get the picture of Captain Whip Whitaker (Denzel Washington) the hero/antihero in this film.

The movie opens with a scene of debauchery. Whip is sleeping naked in a hotel room. His friend and airline attendant Trina is walking about naked, looking for something to smoke and something to wear. Whip wakes, snorts some coke, drinks some beer, and after a shower emerges looking cool behind his avaiator shades. He is apparently ready for his day’s work to begin: a milk-run flight from Miami to Atlanta.

Initial turbulence lends an air of gravity and concern to the easy flight. Yet, Whip takes it in stride, even as his copilot, a cartoonish Christian, struggles to know what to do. It is when mechanical failures hit that the real troubles begin. Whip is in his element. He is in control. He flips the plane over so that it is flying upside down and then lands it in a field beside a church. Only a half-dozen people die, including his one night stand.

Hailed as a hero, Whip awakes to find himself in a hospital with minor injuries. But not all is well. His friend Charlie Anderson (Bruce Greenwood) from the pilot’s union is there. And he later brings a lawyer (Don Cheadle) to their meeting because initial toxicology reports indicate that Whip was over the limit while flying. Ha could face imprisonment if this is substantiated.

Into the mix comes Nicole (Kelly Reilly), a woman Whip meets while in the hospital. A drug addict, she has hit bottom and nearly overdosed. They find themselves drawn together, and she forms a perfect foil for him. As she is committed to beating the addiction, joining AA and getting clean, he is denying his issues and deceiving himself.

Washington gives a sterling performance as a deeply flawed unsympathetic character we are morally ambivalent about. His easy charm and confidence initially win us over. But each time he pulls some stunt to turn us away, so our emotions teeter-totter back and forth, just as they often do in real life for addicts. This is one of his best performances, certainly of recent years, and has been recognized by an Oscar nomination. Reilly, a relative unknown, turns in excellent work, stealing several scenes from him. Greenwood and Cheadle are solid. And John Goodman shows us as Harling Mays, Whip’s pusher and “friend”. A larger than life character, he brings some much needed humor to this film, as he did to Argo earlier last year.

Flight offers a rough and raw picture of the cycle that surrounds addiction, especially for the “functioning alcoholic” who is not some decrepit curb-dweller. The drugs and drinking addiction includes and starts with denial. There is no problem. It might be for someone else, but not for me, is the thinking. Such rationalization works for a while, sometimes a long while. But eventually something forces its way into our face. It might be an overdose and an awakening in hospital, as it was for Nicole. It might be a tox report, as it was for Whip. But that results in initial denial. It must be wrong.

Denial is swiftly followed by deception. And this deception comes in many forms and is both outward and inward focused.

In one powerful scene, Whip has returned to his childhood home in the country. Away from the hustle bustle he can recover alone, away from the cameras and the crowds. One of the first things he is does is flush away his drugs and pour out all his booze. He has bottles and bottles of it, all over the house, stashed in various places. He fills a large garbage bag with the empty bottles. He convinces himself he can quit cold turkey. That is the height of an addict’s self-deception.

To others, he appears sober. He tells Nicole and Charlie he has it under control. But he is lying to them, as they slowly discover. But even Charlie proposes deception, in his advice on how to address the committee hearing: “Remember, if they ask you anything about your drinking, it’s totally acceptable to say ‘I don’t recall’.” To which Whip replies, “Hey, don’t tell me how to lie about my drinking, okay? I know how to lie about my drinking. I’ve been lying about my drinking my whole life.”

However, lies and little sins like two empty miniature vodka bottles always come back to bite us. The Bible tells us that “he who pours out lies will not go free” (Prob. 19:5). It calls the devil “a liar and the father of lies” (Jn. 8:44). The Psalmist encourages us to “keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking lies” (Psa. 34:13). When we lie we build up a fiction that must be carefully maintained, and it takes huge amounts of energy to sustain that fiction. One little bottle can cause it come crashing down on our heads. Honesty is the better policy.

In a climactic scene, Whip succumbs once again to the devils he has tried to bottle and control. Once unbottled, they run riot. And one moment of temptation once again takes him down.

Control is a key issue for Whip. This successful pilot has control, or thinks he does, in all areas of his life. But in reality, he has no control. He has been controlled by his addiction.

The apostle Paul talks about control in his letter to the Romans. “For when we were controlled by the sinful nature, the sinful passions aroused by the law were at work in our bodies, so that we bore fruit for death” (Rom. 7:5). We struggle with being controlled by the old, sinful nature, and being controlled by the Spirit in new life in Christ. If we are following Jesus we “are controlled not by the sinful nature but by the Spirit, if the Spirit of God lives in you. And if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he does not belong to Christ” (Rom. 8:9). Even then, it is a battle that we cannot win on our own. But with the help of the Holy Spirit we can overcome temptation. As Paul says elsewhere, “No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it” (1 Cor. 10:13). It is all a matter of control.

This leads to the powerful scene that shows the way to overcome addiction. It is not through control and protection; it is through confession.

Nicole found this out through her AA meetings. The participants introduce themselves via, “Hello, I am Nicole and I am an addict.” Confession forces our sin into the light of day. In this way, truth can overcome. This is very much like the opening verses of John’s first epistle: 

But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin. If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word has no place in our lives. (1 Jn. 7-10) 

At the end, Whip utters the words, “God help me.” For all of us, and especially for addicts, he can and he does. But only if we let him.

Copyright ©2013, Martin Baggs