Brothers -- surviving war

Director: Jim Sheridan, 2009. (R)

"I don't know who said 'only the dead have seen the end of war'. I have seen the end of war. The question is: can I live again?" When Sam Cahill says this it pretty much sums up this movie. Not so much an antiwar film, as some critics have claimed, Sheridan's movie explores the effects of war on soldiers and their families. It explores the bonds between brothers.

Sam Cahill (Tobey Maguire) has it all. A former high school football star, he married his cheerleader sweetheart Grace (Natalie Portman, The Phantom Menace), and has two little girls at home. In contrast, his brother Tommy (Jake Gyllenhaal, Rendition) is a loser, and is just getting out of prison for armed robbery. They could not be more different. But they are tied together by blood.

The early scenes emphasize the closeness of these brothers. Life may have dealt them diametrically opposite hands, but their relationship keeps them together. It is Sam who goes to pick up Tommy when he is released from prison. Brothers are meant to be close: "A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity" (Prov. 17:17). This is not always so, but when they are something special is present.

A recent movie, Armored, presented a view of brotherhood of men. But there, the brotherhood was fraternal and ultimately a fraud, destroyed by greed. Here, the brotherhood is familial and upheld, even through trials that should have destroyed it.

Sam is also a Captain in the US Marines. Having already made one tour in Afghanistan, he is being sent back with his troops for a second. While there this time, his helicopter is shot down and he is amongst the fallen, presumed dead. In actuality, he and a fellow Marine private are captured and held prisoner by the Taliban in the mountain caves. While his family back home grieve his loss he is trying to preserve his life and sanity.

As the film moves between the US and Afghanistan, we see Tommy grow up and Grace move on. The "death" of his brother left him wounded and ready to grow up. He recognizes the life his brother had and sees it as something he has missed out on. He begins to establish a relationship with Grace and his nieces. Their improving relationship is juxtaposed with Sam's declining experience. When his captors begin torturing him, the stakes grow until Sam is forced to endure horrors unbearable and to do the unthinkable. When he is eventually rescued and returns home a hero, he is not the same man who left these shores months before.

Brothers is a remake of a 2004 Danish film, Brødre, that follows the same storyline. What makes this version more than just a sentimental Hallmark film is the strength of acting of the three principals. Maguire and Gyllenhaal look like they could be brothers, and they bring a maturity to their roles, not really seen before. Portman, too, is believable as a woman trying to make sense out of loss. They present a powerful picture of change.

The change in the two brothers is highlighted by a contrasting pair of dinner table scenes. Early in the film, Sam's family are eating with his father, Hank (Sam Shepard) and stepmom Isabelle (Bailee Madison), and Tommy, fresh out of prison. Tension fills the air as Tommy and Hank verbally spar until sparks fly and Hank leaves the room. Later, when Sam is back from Afghanistan, a similar dinner has Tommy at ease at the table but Sam stressed out by his daughter playing with a balloon. One will explode and it is not the balloon. At this meal, it is Sam who flies out of the room. As well as contrasting the changes in the two, it also underscores how often dysfunctional family dynamics emerge around dinners, sometimes the only time everyone gets together.

Furthermore, these scenes, especially the first, identifies one of the issues in the Cahill family: favoritism. The favoritism of the father has pushed Tommy away. A former marine himself who saw combat and horror in Nam, Hank thinks the world of Sam and thinks nothing of Tommy. Sam's competitiveness and career has won him this love, while, it seems, Tommy has rebelled against his father by defying authority, even becoming a felon.

Favoritism is a particularly nasty sin. It divides families, where love should be uniting them. It creates deep wounds that scar emotionally and psychologically. In the Old Testament, Joseph's father Jacob favored him over his brothers, giving him the prized multi-colored coat (Gen. 37:3). In their jealousy, his brothers sold him into slavery to push him out of their family (Gen. 37:28). Here, the favoritism of the father brought the two brothers closer but pushed Tommy out of the family in other ways.

Interestingly, Hank's favoritism is partly due to shared experience. Both he and Sam have seen the hell of war and returned. Both came back changed. Demons haunt them. Both turned inward in silence. One scene has Hank, realizing Sam has been traumatized, telling Sam he can talk to him about Afghanistan at any time; this from a person that does not talk about anything!

It is the horrors of war and torture that we come back to, though. Several of the scenes in Afghanistan are intense and brutal, gripping the viewer by the throat and choking back the emotions. When we send young men and women to battle, even the modern-day guerrilla or terrorist warfare, they will face things that they may not be able to handle. War is hell. But sometimes war is necessary. Brothers does not dispute this. But it does question how to survive war. The only way to survive may be to detach emotionally and compartmentalize. It is no wonder that veterans returning from these places have a tough time fitting back into normal society.

By the end, we realize Sam has seen the end of war. But the answer to his question of whether he can live again, is in his own hands. It is his choice.

Copyright ©2010, Martin Baggs

Goodbye Solo -- friendship, family, and hope

Director: Ramin Bahrani, 2008. (R)

Goodbye Solo, winner of the Best Film award at the 2008 Venice Film Festival, is a study of hope and hopelessness, of the American Dream, set against the improbable friendship of two men in Winston North Carolina. As an independent film, it defies Hollywood expectations and leaves many questions unanswered, ultimately unsatisfying for some. What keeps us watching is the dazzling smile and the likableness of Solo, a protagonist we care about.

Solo (Soulemane Sy Savane) is a cab driver, cruising the dark midnight streets when most people need a ride. When he picks up William (Red West) to take him to the movies, William makes him an offer. He will give him $1000, with an immediate down-payment, if he will take him on a 2-hour drive, one-way only, to Blowing Rock in two weeks. This place, Blowing Rock, is an isolated peak in the beautiful wilderness where updrafts cause objects tossed out into the wind to be blown back so they fly upwards, defying gravity.

William is old and clearly depressed, wrapping up his affairs, moving out of his apartment. Solo is young, trying to move up in life, with his first child on the way. Recognizing William's despair, Solo tries to befriend him and to "save" him from whatever his future event may include.

Bahrani's film taps into the inherent need that we all have for friendship. We are creatures of community. We were made to have friends (Gen. 1:27). Apart from family and friends, our lives become lonely, lives of quiet desperation lived with no one to know us or our dreams. The problem with this film, though, is the friendship is forced. William is not looking for a relationship and pushes back hard on Solo. Indeed, a number of questions come to mind, such as why Solo would sacrifice his own family for a friendship with a man he hardly knows and who does not want his friendship?

The dreams of the two men are, like the men themselves, a study in contrasts. William's American Dream has dissolved into ashes. His family is gone, there is no one left for him. Solo, on the other hand, is aspiring to a new career in the airlines, and has a beautiful woman and step-daughter waiting for him. An immigrant from Senegal, his American Dream is just beginning.

Dreams are what keep us going. When we can see beyond today we are motivated to arise and work. We have a carrot that keeps us going. Dreams can be big or small, but they are inspiring and typically uplifting. They bring color into our days. Apart from dreams, we slip into staleness, the rut of routine, and life turns gray.

Goodbye Solo explores the value of family. William had a wife, but that was long ago. He has slept alone for too many years. He is filled with regret. Without family he has little to live for. Solo, on the other hand, has a family back home in Africa, and a budding family in America. For a man with family globally, his name is antithetical to his situation! He has a plan. He will earn money and send it home to Senegal to provide for his relatives there. Then when he is old, like William, he will return to his homeland and these relatives will care for him. His retirement plan is his family. They are his 401K!

Too often in America, we sacrifice our families for jobs, careers. We leave our parents and our extended families in search of wealth and the American Dream. But when our parents grow gray and need help, we put them in facilities, old people's homes, where they can be antiseptically cared for by others. All we need to do is sign the monthly check. That can salve our conscience. If we do this for them, won't our children do likewise for us? Will we end our lives in this way? Or worse, will be abandoned by our families to slip off into the sunset like William? Better to build a family that is community, one that loves us and will be with us in our golden years, so that when that day comes we will depart the earth surrounded by loved ones, knowing they care for us as we cared for them.

Ultimately, though, life is about more than dreams. Life is about hope. Dreams come and go. They dwindle and disappear, as William's did. But hope, like faith, is about the unseen (Heb. 11:1). Hope encompasses the afterlife. We can have hope both for this life and for the next if we turn to Jesus. He is not the American Dream; he is the great Christian Dream. He offers us life (Jn. 10:10), here and now. He offers us hope of a future (Jer. 29:11). He calls us to live this life with him and for his kingdom (Matt. 6:33). We can make a difference now, and then in our last days we can look ahead to living with him forever in heaven.

As Goodbye Solo closes, we see a spectacular scene of raw, elemental nature, beautifully framed for the camera. We ponder the power of nature and the brevity of life. And perhaps we consider if we are more like William or Solo. Will we be hopeless, filled with regret? Or will we be filled with satisfaction and hope? Who will be saying goodbye to us, when we face our Blowing Rock?

Copyright ©2010, Martin Baggs

Armored -- sinful brothers, Christian killers

Director: Nimród Antal, 2009. (PG-13)

Armored is a man's movie. Bleak and brutal, the violence and armored car chase will appeal more to men. But that is not my point. The plain fact is that there is only one woman with a speaking role in this film, and she is a nameless social worker who appears on screen for less than 4 minutes of this 88 minute B-movie.

This female social worker shows up at the home of Ty Hackett (Columbus Short), our protagonist, ready to commit Ty's younger brother to foster care. Ty, a decorated veteran of the Iraq war, is really down on his luck. He is the legal guardian to his brother, as their parents died recently. With their death he inherited a mountain of debt and he is receiving foreclosure notices from his bank. His kid brother is skipping school and spray painting the kitchen. He almost visibly buckles under the weight of these things.

Ty is training to be a guard with Eagle Shield Security, manning the armored cars that transport cash between banks. Under the mentoring of his godfather Mike (Matt Dillon), he is fitting in with this group of "tough guys." An early scene shows these two and four other guards, including Quinn (Jean Reno, Jet Lag) and Baines (Laurence Fishburne, The Matrix) drinking together in a bar after a typical male-bonding prank. Ty is clearly struggling with his killing deeds in Iraq, but to the others, especially Baines, this is a badge of manhood.

The first act portrays a picture of the brotherhood of workers, especially those in a dangerous occupation where they must depend on one another. They are a band of brothers. Ty's own family is gone; they are a replacement, with Mike acting as a surrogate father. Their easy bantering displays a camaraderie that most men want. We are made for this. We need family, we need friends. Often we need to blow off some steam and we do this with other men in story-telling and mock competition, sometimes over beer or coffee. The writer of Proverbs understands this, and tells us, "A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity" (Prov. 17:17). Friends we often refer to as brothers are those who we can turn to when we are in need or desperate.

So when Ty is desperate, with foreclosure looming and foster care for his brother hanging over his head, he turns to Mike. And Mike has a plan. He and the other 4 friends are planning to rob two of the armored trucks the next day. With the bi-annual alignment of schedules they will be transporting $42M, enough to share and solve Ty's problems . . . . if he will join them. Despite misgivings, after all Ty is supposedly a fundamentally honest man, he commits to this plan on the condition that no one will get hurt.

As act two gets underway, the robbery occurs but plans get compromised and things start to go south in a hurry. With half the money hidden and the other half left in one of the trucks, Ty's conscience kicks in and he locks himself in the second truck. He has separated himself from the rest of the gang, and they are not prepared to accept this. The remainder of the film deals with this Mexican-standoff of sorts.

This "family" of Ty's slowly and surely turns in on itself and disintegrates. Greed is the culprit. Wanting the money and wanting escape, they cannot see beyond violence to accomplish their ends. Sin is like this. Once we have embraced sin, a simple lie here, a minor theft there, our character is compromised and sins start to accumulate. Mike's undying love and concern for Ty transforms into concern to see Ty die. He does not care for his "friend"; he only cares for his money. The apostle Paul said, "Do not be misled: 'Bad company corrupts good character' " (1 Cor. 15:33). When we hang around with the wrong crowd, as Ty did, they will seek to seduce us to their view and their values. He was almost carried away by his "friends" into a felonious sin, but saw the light early enough.

Armored is a short and easily forgettable film. The characters are not overly developed and the plot is full of holes. The criminals' plans seem almost ludicrous; how would they really get away with their scheme? And to throw the idea at Ty the night before the heist is simply implausible. There are some moments of excitement, but this is a film for switching off the brain or locking it away in the armored truck of our cranium until the credits roll.

One character, Palmer (Amaury Nolasco), appears to be a Christian. He is seen reading his Bible and praying. Yet he is enthusiastically amongst the thieves. And it gets worse. Like Judas (Lk. 22:48) he betrays his friend, silently thrusting the dagger into another, making him a thief and a killer. Is this a caricature? Can a person be a Christian killer? Or is this an oxymoron?

We remember that the apostle Paul (when he was named Saul) himself was a killer, or accomplice (Acts 8:1). But that was before he met Jesus (Acts 9:3). After his encounter he was a changed man, who suffered more than most apostles (2 Cor. 11:23-29) in his desire to preach the gospel of forgiveness to the unreached world. A person like Paul, a follower of Jesus, is one who has been touched by grace. He has experienced God's love. How can such a person choose in cold-blood to murder another human being? Jesus said his followers are characterized by love (Jn. 13:35), not murder, hate, lust, greed, or other sinful desires. We are known by our fruit (Jn. 15:8). Palmer's fruit was obvious. He was a killer, not a lover. What is your fruit like?

Copyright ©2010, Martin Baggs

Les vacances de Monsieur Hulot (M. Hulot's Holiday) -- helping, not running

Director: Jacques Tati, 1953. (G)

This classic French comedy is sub-titled in English. But if you dislike these you need not be put off: this is visual comedy. Slapstick and pantomime abound, as this is reminiscent of the silent-screen comedies of Buster Keaton. Tati directs his second full length feature from his own script and stars as the iconic M. Hulot, a character that he reprised in three subsequent movies.

It is vacation time in France, and M. Hulot takes to the wheel of his sputtering jalopy. He heads for the beach and the shabby hotel where he is staying. This is not the glamorous French riviera; it is rather a typical working-class seaside resort in Brittany. The film is fairly plotless, being built loosely around his vacation and his interactions with the other guests.

The week is full of misadventures for him and these guests. There are some laug/>h-out-loud scenes and others that go too long and fall flat. But the former outweigh the latter. In one scene he stumbles into a funeral because of his spare tire and becomes one of the greeters. In another, he takes up tennis with a unique serving style that leaves his opponents dumb-struck and defeated. A shark-like escapade unintentionally presages Spielberg's Jaws. My favorite scene, though, is the climax where he inadvertently sets off fireworks and tries to fill a water bucket, to put them out, by running laps around a circular sprinkler.

The film succeeds because of M. Hulot and his character. A gangly bachelor with a floppy hat and a pipe dangling from his mouth, he is happy but hapless, living in the moment without a care in the world. Each episode extracts its humor from his bumbling clumsiness, wherein he manages to cause catastrophe. His intentions are good, but the results of his efforts are not.

M. Hulot brings to mind two other screen characters. The first is the French Amelie. Both M. Hulot and Amelie want to help others, even people they don't know. But where Amelie mixes mischief in with her do-gooding, M. Hulot is fundamentally well-meaning. He simply seeks to do good, to help. There is no hidden agenda with him.

The second screen character is British TV's Mr Bean (Rowan Atkinson). He is an almost silent character, like M. Hulot, relying on visual gags. He may even have been modeled on the French character. But he is more like a young boy in an adult body, competitive and spiteful. M. Hulot, in contrast, does not seem to have a mean streak in him.

We can be like M. Hulot if we want and if we try. If we move out of our self-focused comfort zone we can look to others, to help them where they are in need. As followers of Jesus, he commanded us to love our neighbors (Matt. 19:19) and one way to do this is to offer well-meaning help. This is not giving money, although we are called to be generous and cheerful in our tithing to the church (2 Cor. 9:6-7) and our giving to the poor (Deut. 15:10). Rather, it is a giving of our time and ourselves.

One thing with M. Hulot: when his help causes problems, he runs away. He abandons the problems, leaving others to clean up the mess. He is irresponsible in this regard. If we choose to help others, we must decide to do so responsibly, taking the good with the bad. If we cause a mess, we should clean it up. If we damage things, we should seek to repair or offer redress. We cannot simply run away, like a little child. Though we surely enter the kingdom of heaven like a little child (Matt. 18:3), we must grow up and put aside childish behaviors (1 Cor. 13:11). We must be responsible citizens of God's kingdom in our relationships with others.

Copyright ©2010, Martin Baggs