Media Matters @ Third Way Cafe (Third Way Media)

Bella - Movies from Weekly Reviews

Thu, 5 Nov 2009 07:00:00 EST

The 2007 film Bella received mixed reviews. But considering that it ended its U.S. theatrical release with more than $10 million in domestic box office earnings and finished the year in the top ten grossing independent films of 2007, director Alejandro Gomez Monteverde’s first film did not do so poorly. So perhaps it is worth a look now, particularly with this subject matter for Third Way Café.

Nina describes an unfeeling city with selfish people and is surprised by the beggar’s response of “Oh, I’d like to see that!”

Although a few gaps exist in the production, and the flashbacks cause a bit of confusion at first, the film abandons typical Hollywood glamour and anorexic actresses allowing the audience to gloss over nit-picky discrepancies. The credits leave one with crumpled tissues, joyful hope, inspiration and an eagerness to practice the Golden Rule.

Set in New York City, the film does little to hide the coldness of the bustling metropolis. Nina is late for work for the third time in a week and Manny, the stiff-necked restaurant manager, is slow to listen and quick to fire the waitress. José, the restaurant chef and brother to Manny, follows Nina to the subway and spends the day with her when she reveals her secret of pregnancy. José quickly becomes Nina’s confidant and it is not until half-way through the movie that the audience learns why this new friend cares so deeply for Nina and her unborn baby. Within one day, two separate journeys intertwine and drastically change that of a third.

In fact, the film provides a thought-provoking view on change which is good for us predictable-loving schedulers. Though Nina faces a future of uncertainty with trepidation, José helps her to understand how change may bring fear but also allows for hope, healing and incomprehensible blessings. José wants Nina to see the beauty in change and in life though her surroundings feel cold and dark and her circumstance impossible.

This message of beauty is reiterated in one particular scene with a blind beggar selling art on the street. Nina is without spare change but the beggar asks her to describe what she sees in exchange for his “masterpiece.” Nina describes an unfeeling city with selfish people and is surprised by the beggar’s response of “Oh, I’d like to see that!” In a simple transaction, the beggar begs Nina to open her eyes to life and, throughout the rest of the day, José shows her beauty – specifically beauty in people.

People are important to José which clashes with Manny’s drive for success in business. The great hoax of the film is that José was well on his way to success also – success as a professional soccer player worth millions. One particular tragedy convinces him that individual people are worth more than millions. This is one reason why he cares so deeply for his family and his co-workers at the restaurant. This is one reason why he spends the day with Nina and the life growing inside her. This is one reason why he takes her to his home.

José comes from a passionate home brimming with all the greatness of Latin culture including that of food, dancing, laughter and unconditional love. Nina is invited to join the festivities for an evening and it is here that she encounters generous, grace-filled love for one of the first times. In many ways she is like the garden in which she helped José and his father plant trees earlier in the day. José is like the gardener, planting seeds of goodness and beauty in her dry soul as he does in all the lives he touches in NYC.

In the end one wonders, is the film about Nina? Or is it really about José? Is it about a woman choosing between life and death for her unborn child? Or is it about how a man receives healing after several years of self-reproach? Is it pro-life? Is it pro-love? Is it pro-change? Though rated PG-13 and not recommended for children or young teens, at film’s end, we stand up and turn off the DVD player with renewed desire to practice childlike habits of abundant love and hope abounding.

by Heidi Martin
Independent

Heidi Martin is a 2007 graduate of Bluffton University in Bluffton, Ohio with degrees in English Literature, Writing and Wellness. Currently living in Strasburg, Pennsylvania, Heidi indulges in the joys of writing, baking and riding bike in her spare time.

Endgame - TV from Weekly Reviews

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 07:00:00 EST

Mennonites believe that talking is more productive than—not to mention morally preferable to—using violence to solve conflicts. History, it seems, often supports this belief.

Though the film is mostly about people talking and we all know how it turns out, it is a thriller, and director Peter Travis creates much suspense.

“Endgame,” shown on most PBS stations on Oct. 25 and available for viewing at pbs.org, is a feature film that depicts true events leading up to the end of apartheid in South Africa. The film tells a little-known story about talks held behind the scenes between Afrikaners and representatives of the African National Congress (ANC).

Many of us may have forgotten about apartheid, a racist rule in South Africa in which a white minority controlled nearly all aspects of society, while “blacks” and “coloreds” had few rights. By the l980s, the country faced civil unrest and labor strikes. The police arrested and murdered many black South Africans, and in 1985, Prime Minister P.W. Botha declared a state of emergency.

Meanwhile, Michael Young (Jonny Lee Miller), an executive with a British mining company who did business in South Africa, approached Thabo Mbeki (Chiwetel Ejiofor), deputy to ANC president Oliver Tambo, about what to do to bring peace to South Africa. Mbeki agreed to talks, and Young worked tirelessly to bring together ANC representatives, including Mbeki, and powerful Afrikaner representatives, including Willie Esterhuyse (William Hurt), an academic who detests both the violent tactics of the ANC and the immorality of apartheid.

Young’s boss, Rudolph Agnew (Derek Jacobi), agrees to hold the discussions at the company's country mansion in England. But if anything becomes public, he vows to deny everything.

Though few people even know about the talks, powerful forces are at work—from both the South African government and the ANC—to disrupt them. Those involved are being watched and face death threats. Though the film is mostly about people talking and we all know how it turns out, it is a thriller, and director Peter Travis creates much suspense. He even includes a car chase.

While the talks proceed over a period of years, Botha’s head of intelligence, Neil Barnard (Mark Strong), begins clandestine meetings with Nelson Mandela (Clarke Peters) in an attempt to divide the ANC.

Tensions mount as events unfold—including a bomb that kills South African civilians (which Mbeki did not sanction)—and it appears the talks will dissolve. But those involved have grown to see each other not only as human beings (an accomplishment itself) but as friends.

Finally, in 1990, F.W. de Klerk, Botha’s successor as president, releases Mandela, and a year later he repeals the remainder of the apartheid laws and calls for a new constitution. In 1994, South Africa finally holds democratic elections, and Mandela is elected president.

“Endgame” is a drama that doesn’t preach. Instead it shows both the difficulty and the efficacy of talking rather than fighting. Though many forces tried to bring change through force, it was a determined businessman who helped enemies talk and find a way to peace without bloodshed.

In a note at the end of the film, we learn that Sinn Féin, the Irish Republican Army faction, sought advice from the ANC to work at reconciliation in Ireland. Later, Hamas sought Sinn Fein’s help in working at peace.

by Gordon Houser
The Mennonite

Gordon Houser is associate editor of The Mennonite.

Where the Wild Things Are - Movies from Weekly Reviews

Thu, 22 Oct 2009 07:00:00 EST

It's hard being a family.

Kids in my elementary school classes used to argue over who got to check Wild Things out.

So says one of the Wild Things in Where the Wild Things Are, the Spike Jonze adaptation of the classic children's book by Maurice Sendak.

Nine-year-old Max (Max Records) is a lonely, hypersensitive kid whose wild streak doesn't get many chances for healthy expression. He's lost his father (whether to death or divorce, it isn't clear) and his mother is working herself ragged to keep the family afloat. His sister cares more about her friends than the well-being of her little brother, and so Max dons his wolf suit and lashes out by jumping on the table and ordering his mother to make his dinner. The ensuing blowup leaves them both in tears, but Max does what so many kids dream of doing when they don't feel loved or wanted: he runs away—growling and thrashing as he goes.

From there, the movie gets a whole lot more grown up. Children may identify with the thrill of escape and the anticipation of adventure, but once Max's flight carries him to the Island of the Wild Things, this becomes a film for grown-up kids—particularly those who loved the book as children.

Sendak's book embraces childhood anger in a playful, cathartic way. The illustrations of Max in his wolf suit, and the giant, fur-and-horns Wild Things stick in many of our collective memories—in fact they carry the story farther than the few sentences Sendak employed to narrate his tale. So how did the filmmakers turn an iconic, but very, very short children's book into a two-hour movie? By giving the Wild Things names, and personalities, and hang-ups and tensions, and complicated love relationships. Illuminating, but not exactly kid-fare.

The entire segment on the Island of the Wild Things actually moves with a sort of philosophical ponderousness. Max fibs his way into a position of authority over the Wild Things, and then finds himself taking on the role of a parent who loves his kids and wants them to get along, but who can't control them, and is even a little afraid of them in their wildness.

That isn't to say there's an absence of playfulness or humor. Clever dialogue and stellar facial animation (the Wild Things are a combination of actors in giant fur suits, puppeteering, and computer-animation) combine with surreal cinematography to make the entire experience of their world a real pleasure to enter. During the Wild Rumpus, Max and his new friends careen through the forest and howl at the sunrise, their primal embrace of life as thrilling as the mad dirt clod war they launch later on.

For my husband, the film took him forcibly back to his childhood, reminding him how simple life’s trials used to be. A bittersweet experience, to be sure, but it also highlighted his own childhood joys: snowball fights, forts, and even dirt clod wars. Yes, just like the Wild Things, he and his boy cousins used to get behind mounds and throw dirt clods at each other—for fun.

Must be a boy thing.

In fact, in some ways Where the Wild Things Are is a boy book and a boy movie. Sure there are girls who love the book and I certainly enjoyed the movie, but I'm sure most girls aren't as keen on knocking things down and tackling each other the way Max and the Wild Things do. But maybe that speaks to the book's genius and the film's relevance. I've often read that there's a general lack of good literature for boys, so that may explain why kids in my elementary school classes used to argue over who got to check Wild Things out. This film is a mature version of the book, as instructive to adults trying to understand the trials of childhood as the book is to kids—teaching us that hard as it can be to get along, no wild things in the world can take a family's place.

Where the Wild Things Are is rated PG for mild thematic elements, some adventure action and brief language.

by Michelle D. Sinclair
Independent

Michelle D. Sinclair is an account executive in the advertising division of the Washington Post and attends Northern Virginia Mennonite Church.

Capitalism: A Love Story - Movies from Weekly Reviews

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 07:00:00 EST

Michael Moore’s latest film, Capitalism: A Love Story, is perhaps his best. It is far more balanced and less angry than his earlier documentaries (Roger and Me (1989), Bowling for Columbine (2002), Fahrenheit 9/11 (2004) and Sicko (2007)) while drawing elements from each of them. His characteristic sarcasm and witty humor make, what might otherwise have been a very boring treatise on American capitalism, a rather funny and enjoyable film.

Moore’s premise is capitalism is un-American. He rightly points out the Constitution makes no mention of capitalism and insists Wall Street is decisively undemocratic.

With the opening credits rolling, you witness hilarious actual footage of dimwitted bank robberies. His premise is immediately clear: the bailout of the financial system is robbing the American taxpayers. I laughed out loud during the next scene in which Moore dubs over a film about the glories and excesses of ancient Rome and contrasts it with the American empire. Republicans will surely take offense at Moore’s inference that Vice President Dick Cheney represents a modern day version of the powerful and often evil Roman emperors.

Many other things will offend Republicans, such as a very funny animation of a speech by President George W. Bush made in September 2009, just two months before the presidential elections, in which he predicts a total financial collapse unless drastic actions are taken. However, Moore is just as critical when discussing the unintended consequences of Bill Clinton’s economic policies. Moore delivers his best insights when comparing the economic policies of Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan using Carter’s “malaise speech” and footage of Reagan doing commercials.

Moore’s premise is capitalism is un-American. He rightly points out the Constitution makes no mention of capitalism and insists Wall Street is decisively undemocratic. He explains 1% of the U.S. population owns 95% of the nation’s wealth. Scenes of rundown and boarded up Detroit homes are juxtaposed with the opulent summer cottages of the Vanderbilts and Rockefellers in Newport, R.I.

Moore calls America a plutocracy in which “capitalism trumps democracy.” He asserts, the rich are afraid of the “one man one vote” democratic principle because it gives power to ordinary people who could demand and get universal health care, a living wage and comfortable pensions through the democratic process. This is a frightening prospect for many wealthy Americans, according to Moore.

The film explores the concept that capitalism conflicts with both democracy and Christianity. It becomes autobiographical when Moore admits his childhood dream of becoming a priest in order to defend the powerless. He says, “I must have missed the part of the Bible when Jesus becomes a Capitalist.” Moore claims Jesus’ teachings have been hijacked. He shows Catholic priests speaking against oppressive business practices, such as predatory lending or refusing to pay workers their due wages. One priest says, “Capitalism is morally obscene, an outrageously radical evil.” Strong words but backed up by scenes showing abhorrent business practices such as companies taking out life insurance policies on their employees and naming themselves as beneficiaries. In essence the company is placing a bet their employees will die and they will collect huge cash settlements while ignoring the needs of the deceased’s family. This practice is called “dead peasant insurance.” The companies involved are large corporations including Walmart, not fly by night outfits.

Moore uses US Airways pilot “Sully” Sullenberger, the hero of the water landing on the Hudson, to point out how woefully underpaid airline pilots are, some earning only $18,000 per year. Sully delivered testimony before Congress critical of the airline industry’s pay practices saying his own pay was cut 40% and his pension severely reduced. He claims the airlines are losing the ability to attract the best and brightest to aviation, thus endangering passenger safety. Moore notes that Congress liked Sully better as a hero pilot than as a hero for the working man. Moore argues capitalism has run amuck then demonstrates it in scene after scene using personal testimonies and dramatic news footage. He urges us to exercise our democratic and collective power to take our country back.

It is unfortunate that Moore’s radical reputation will prevent many from seeing this film. It is both thought provoking and highly entertaining. I was disappointed in its R rating which is due to some unnecessary language. However, it is appropriate for most teens and provides excellent fodder for further discussion.

P.S. In the film I noticed Moore wearing a ball cap with the letters “EMU” on the front and words too small to read below them. Since he is from Flint, Michigan I surmise it stands for “Eastern Michigan University” and not “Eastern Mennonite University” where I attend seminary.

by Steve Carpenter
Independent

Steve Carpenter is a graduate of Tulane University, the Coast Guard Academy, and a member of a Mennonite Church in Harrisonburg, Va.

Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs - Movies from Weekly Reviews

Thu, 8 Oct 2009 07:00:00 EST

Columbia Pictures/Sony Pictures Animation
Rated PG
4 stars (out of 4)

Their relationship deepens through their mutual love for science. As the father of teen girls, I’ve seldom seen a more counter-cultural message – or one that’s more needed.

It’s a rare occurrence when a family film can deliver a lot of laughs, a clever story, enticing and atypical characters along with stunning images. Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs succeeds on more fronts than you’ll find on a weather map. It is one of the year’s best animated features.

Adapted from a 32-page story by Judi and Ron Barrett, the 90-minute feature follows the misadventures of Flint Lockwood (Bill Hader). Flint is an aspiring inventor who gave the world spray-on shoes, rat-birds and a monkey-thought translator. Flint is misunderstood by his father Tim (James Caan), who owns a sardine bait-and-tackle store and has facial features that are obscured by bushy eyebrows and a moustache. In fact, nobody understands Flint in Swallow Falls, located on a tiny island in the Atlantic. Hyper-vigilant Police Chief Earl Devereaux (Mr. T) considers Flint a “shenanigan-izer.” Only his late mother believed Flint destined for greatness.

When the sardine industry collapses, the Mayor tries to revive the town by creating a “Sardine Land” theme park – an event that even draws TV coverage from Sam Sparks (Anna Faris), an intern for the Weather News Network. But Flint’s latest invention, which turns water into food, creates a cataclysm that destroys the park, before the machine rockets into the sky.

When Flint believes his life is destined for failure, a cloudburst rains cheeseburgers on Swallow Falls, the first of many meteorological/gastronomical events that lead the town to change its name to ChewandSwallow. Soon, we are treated to falling pancakes, ice-cream snowstorms and a hail of steaks.

Where Meatballs succeeds is in its quirky characters whose behaviors turn stereotypes on their heads. Sam Sparks, we learn, hides her intelligence and love for meteorology behind the perky good looks demanded of on-air correspondents. As she gets to know Flint, she becomes more attractive to the hero when she puts her hair in a scrunchie, puts on her oversized glasses and uses her brains. Their relationship deepens through their mutual love for science. As the father of teen girls, I’ve seldom seen a more counter-cultural message – or one that’s more needed.

The film, a new animated feature from the folks who brought you Monster House, is packed with wonderful puns and sight gags. But it also touches on more substantive themes, including the challenges of obesity in a place where food is readily available, the dangers and benefits of technology, and choices in food selection and production.

With increasing levels of demand for food from the townspeople and the mayor, who has repurposed Chewandswallow for cruise visits, Flint’s machine becomes erratic. When a “perfect storm” threatens the survival of the planet, Flint must battle his out-of-control invention and Sam’s peanut allergies to restore equilibrium.

Throughout Flint’s journey, we discover characters who reveal more depth than we originally imagine. This film is much like its characters. While Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs may not win the accolades of Disney/Pixar’s Up, this movie is a smart animated comedy for the whole family. More importantly, it’s one that shows it’s cool to be smart.

by Tom Price
Independent

Tom Price lives in South Bend, Ind., where he is an assistant to the mayor and an undiscovered screenwriter. He formerly served as a newspaper reporter, and directed marketing and communications for Mennonite Mission Network.

Good Stories in Indie Rock - Music from Weekly Reviews

Thu, 1 Oct 2009 07:00:00 EST

Most of the time when I stuff my headphones in my ears and push play on my iPod, I’m just looking for a soundtrack to my work day. I’m content to know an artist’s songs but not their personal story. In the past couple of years, however, I’ve become more interested in some bands with compelling backgrounds. I don’t know these bands personally or how they behave offstage.

No matter how good a personal story is, there’s no account for taste. These bands aren’t guaranteed to please your ears.

It is possible, I suppose, that some of these musicians yell at puppies, litter the streets with cans and steal lollipops out of the hands of children. But based on their music, lyrics and interviews I’ve read and seen regarding these bands, here are three bands that I have come to root for over the past year. I hope that readers will add their own list of additional bands in the comments section below. One note: no matter how good a personal story is, there’s no account for taste. These bands aren’t guaranteed to please your ears.

Amadou & Mariam

Amadou & Mariam, a husband-wife duo who happen to be blind, met each other at a school for the blind in Mali in the 1960s, and eventually started a music collaboration that has spanned almost 30 years. They have been a known commodity in West Africa but reached a level of worldwide popularity with their 2005 album Dimanche a Bamako. Their follow-up, Welcome to Mali is one of the most critically adored albums of the past year and for good reason. Amadou’s intricate guitar work makes him one of the world’s best and the couple’s music jumps around from African pop to more western rhythm and blues. Opening track “Sabali,” made Pitchfork’s short list of top songs of 2008 and the album’s infectious qualities never let up, even through 16 songs, most of which aren’t sung in English. Even though I can’t understand most of the lyrics, the music is uplifting enough that Amadou & Mariam could sing in Pig Latin and I wouldn’t care.

Mates of State

Kori Gardner and Jason Hammel are the patron saints of indie rock stay-at-home parents. But in their case, home is often on the road. Touring is often where the money is for working musicians, so Gardner and Hammel – the wife-husband duo behind the poppy, organ/synthesizer-driven band Mates of State – tour with kids in tow. They do have a nanny for late nights when Mommy and Daddy are on stage, but Magnolia, 5, and Junebug, 1, get to see their parents more than most rock and roll tots. And this is not your typical rock tour. The couple asks for baby food waiting for them backstage in their tour contract. Gardner writes about nursing on the road on her blog “Band on the Diaper Run.” And Hammel posts about reading to Magnolia on Facebook.

The two often sing in unison to upbeat rhythms to the point that it could sound to some that they are shouting at each other. NPR music blogger Carrie Brownstein once said on a podcast of All Songs Considered that when she listened to Mates of State, she felt like someone was throwing candy at her. Personally, I don’t mind that. As a kid, I used to attend a parade every year where the people on the floats would stroll by and throw candy at everyone. And it was one of my favorite days of the year.

Cloud Cult

I mentioned them in a column last year on Media Matters and now that I have had another year to listen to their music and learn more about them, I can say that there’s no band I root for more than Cloud Cult. Here is a small sampling of why:

The band uses geothermal energy to record its albums, which are all made from 100 percent post-consumer recycled products. The band’s tour van is decked out with solar panels and the band has planted over 1,000 trees to help offset their rigorous touring schedule.
The frenetic live shows, while bordering on over-stimulation, are a true experience. Their live shows feature two painters, who start their impromptu masterpieces on the first beat of the show and produce a completed work by the last note. The paintings are auctioned off at the end of every show, with all proceeds going to charity.
Leader/founder Craig Minowa and his wife Connie, one of the band’s painters, suffered a great tragedy when their 2-year-old son died for unknown reasons in 2002. Craig Minowa subsequently wrote some of the best songs out there about loss, healing and hope.
There is a great sense of spiritual wonder in their lyrics. A sample: “There must be purpose here because most of us keep waking up. Don’t you think it’s pretty here? It’s unexpectedly predictable, so sloppily intentional – does anyone know the punch line yet?”

No One Said it Would Be Easy, a documentary released earlier this year, chronicles the band’s story. All members of the band come across as humble and the in-depth look at the band only enhanced my admiration for them. Even the band’s critics acknowledge that Cloud Cult is inspiring. In every negative review I’ve read – and there aren’t many – the critic is almost apologetic because even if the music isn’t to an individual’s taste, the band’s story is universally respected. And in the end, their story may outlive the music.

Links:

The Informant! - Movies from Weekly Reviews

Thu, 24 Sep 2009 07:00:00 EST

Early in The Informant!, Matt Damon sails into an office peppered with boxy beige computers, too-high hairdos, and eyeglasses last seen on Revenge of the Nerds. Welcome to 1992.

What a testament to the power of music in film. The dialogue is funny. The acting is superbly timed, but with the help of music, the filmmakers draw out the humor we might otherwise have missed.

It’s an atmosphere primed for ironic humor. Director Steven Soderbergh makes the early '90's resemble television's version of the 1950's—the devoted stay-at-home mother and wife (played by Melanie Lynskey), the perfect house, the aw-shucks good guy who doesn't approve of what his corporate masters have been doing. If this really were the '50's, Jimmy Stewart would have nailed this part. All that wholesome Midwestern goodness lulls the audience into believing exactly what they're given, and once the film pulls that off, the real fun can begin.

The story itself isn’t inherently funny. Mark Whitacre (Matt Damon) works as a vice president at ADM, an Illinois-based corn product developer and manufacturer. As a biologist brought over to work the business side, Whitacre finds himself under pressure from his bosses to raise profits in spite of a virus plaguing one of the corn products. When a Japanese competitor claims to have planted the virus and then tries to extort ADM for $10 million dollars in return for a virus-resistant crop, Whitacre goes to the FBI. But what started as a simple phonetap turns into a full-scale investigation into ADM's international price-fixing ring—with Whitacre as sole informant.

It's hard to imagine a worse spy. Whitacre drives his babysitters-cum-FBI agents (Scott Bakula and Joel McHale) nuts during surveillance attempts, peering excitedly at the hidden camera and speaking into his tape recorder in plain sight of his bosses. And yet every time Whitacre has to come up with an excuse, when he has to talk his way out of a tricky situation, the lies flow easily from his mouth. That idiosyncrasy only gets more fascinating as the movie goes on.

Matt Damon's performance as Whitacre is so likeable and earnest, that it isn't hard to see why his bosses have no idea he's turned informant on them. This is the same actor who played diamond-in-the-rough Will Hunting, and hard-hitting action hero Jason Bourne, and he takes so naturally to the geeky good life that you don’t even question the mustache (take a look at the movie poster if you don’t know what I mean).

There's an odd sort of timeliness to The Informant! in spite of the time period. Today, corn crops stretch across the U.S., fueling everything from cars to steers to breakfast cereal (For more on this, check out the documentary King Corn.) Consumers have become more aware of just how much high fructose corn syrup we consume on a daily basis. The film takes viewers a little way back on the timeline, to witness some of the selfish corporate maneuvering that brought us to this point.

A “based on a true story” movie isn't usually the best comic fodder, but like a sort of Thank You For Smoking for the corn industry, lighthearted music puts this squarely in the realm of dark comedy. What a testament to the power of music in film. The dialogue is funny. The acting is superbly timed, but with the help of music, the filmmakers draw out the humor we might otherwise have missed.

Don’t mistake this for an uproarious laughfest (there are portions near the end where the movie begins to drag) but at its heart The Informant! is subtle, clever comedy—an opportunity to learn something and laugh while you do it. My husband hails from small town Illinois, and he found the depiction of the state's culture spot-on to the point of hilarity. Even for the non-Illinois bred among us, this is the kind of movie-going experience you spend chuckling, watching with growing admiration for the twists and random asides you didn’t see coming.

The Informant! is rated R for language. Though it certainly isn’t excessive by normal R-movie standards, the language makes this unsuitable for children. They probably wouldn’t enjoy it anyway.

by Michelle D. Sinclair
Independent

Michelle D. Sinclair is an account executive in the advertising division of the Washington Post and attends Northern Virginia Mennonite Church.

What is an Anabaptist Christian? - Books from Weekly Reviews

Thu, 17 Sep 2009 07:00:00 EST

Booklet by Palmer Becker

The Bible needs to be interpreted from a Christ-centered point of view” rather than seeing the Bible as a flat book where the teachings of Moses, in the Old Testament, carry equal weight to the words of Jesus recorded in the New Testament. --Palmer Becker

Many today are disillusioned with traditional Protestant and Catholic churches which have wed themselves to the state and pledged a national allegiance over obedience to Christ. Some, including Christian leaders and authors Brian McLaren, Greg Boyd, and Shane Claiborne are seeking fresh insights within the Anabaptist community. This stream of the Christian church, which includes Mennonites, emerged from the Radical Reformation about the same time as Luther’s Reformation. The word radical here does not mean politically radical, although Mennonites can be that. Rather it refers to the founders’ desire to return to the essence of New Testament faith by cutting back all accoutrements and getting to the root of Christian discipleship.

At a recent regional church leaders’ conference I had opportunity, along with others, to reflect on Palmer Becker’s slim booklet What is an Anabaptist Christian? The word “Anabaptist” doesn’t refer to people who are against or “anti-Baptist” but rather to those who, beginning in the 1500’s, defied the Catholic Church, which baptized infants for their salvation, and were “re-baptized” as adults. They did this as a demonstration of their Christian discipleship. The result of this act of rebellion was many were persecuted, some were even killed. The Mennonites and the Amish, in their many forms, trace their spiritual roots to these first Swiss re-baptizers.

In 2008, Mennonite Mission Network, the parent organization of Third Way Media which hosts this Web site, published Becker’s 24 page booklet in its “Missio Dei” series.

Palmer Becker articulates three core Anabaptists values:

Jesus is the center of our faith
Community is the center of our lives
Reconciliation is the center of our work

Under his first core value, Palmer Becker lists three sub-points. Anabaptist Christians:

Follow Jesus in daily life
Interpret the Scriptures in the spirit of Jesus
Promise their highest loyalty to Jesus Christ

You might think all Christian churches and denominations are centered in Jesus Christ but that is not true. Palmer Becker notes both Augustine, the great Catholic theologian, and Martin Luther, the founder of the Lutheran denomination, focused more on Christ’s death than on his life and ministry. He points out the Apostles Creed, developed around the time of Augustine and used widely today, omits any mention of the teachings and ministry of Jesus.

Recently I had a reminder of what a difference this focus can make. You may have heard about pastor Wiley Drake, the former second vice-president of the Southern Baptist Convention, who prayed three times on national radio for the death of President Obama. In justification for this practice, known as imprecatory prayer, Drake noted the Psalms record King David’s prayers imploring God to vanquish his enemies. This practice may be biblical, but it certainly is not Christ-centered. Jesus taught his followers to love their enemies and to pray for them. By that, I don’t think he meant praying for their deaths.

Palmer Becker explains “The Bible needs to be interpreted from a Christ-centered point of view rather than seeing the Bible as a flat book where the teachings of Moses, in the Old Testament, carry equal weight to the words of Jesus recorded in the New Testament.” At the same regional gathering which examined Becker’s writing, Dorothy Jean Weaver New Testament scholar and Eastern Mennonite Seminary professor reminded us that in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus told his followers, “You have heard it said, ‘an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth’ but I say to you love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” Jesus’ teachings fulfill and transcend the Law of Moses. A church centered in Christ reads the entire Bible through the lens of Jesus, the Word made flesh.

Becker’s book resonates with me. I was raised in a Christian home and we worshipped in a Presbyterian church. Presbyterians are part of the Reformed Tradition, championed by 16^th century theologians John Calvin and John Knox. Through a series of events I became an Anabaptist Christian and joined the Mennonite Church.

Although brief and in many ways incomplete, Becker’s booklet encapsulates the core values to which Mennonites, and others, adhere. This is what some others are saying about it: “This is a helpful resource for highlighting foundational concepts, defining ourselves, and providing words to articulate what we believe. It could be useful for adult Sunday school classes or small groups. A clear and easy to understand text for catechism purposes -- a good, accessible resource.” Another reader thought it lacked emphasis on salvation and the Holy Spirit.

Still another commented, “Anabaptists should recognize that we benefit from other faith traditions. The format is too polarized and simplistic, not a good resource for ecumenical discussion. We have a lot to offer, but also a lot to learn. We should not use this to challenge other views; labels such as “proper” are not helpful.” Finally, one delegate gave it high praise by comparing Becker’s work to Harold Bender’s Anabaptist Vision saying “affirmation for the re-statement, reinterpretation of Bender’s vision…”

To purchase, go to the Third Way Café store and order Volume 18.

by Steve Carpenter
Independent

Steve Carpenter is a graduate of Tulane University, the Coast Guard Academy, and a member of a Mennonite Church in Harrisonburg, Va.

9 - Movies from Weekly Reviews

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 07:00:00 EST

9
Focus Features/Relativity Media
Rated PG-13
2 stars (out of 4)

On top of the explosions, 9 features dialogue that is reduced to warnings about the machines and inane shouting of numerals – “9!” “2!” “7!”

It was a day designed for hype. 09-09-09. Marketers released remastered digital recordings of the entire Beatles collection and a Beatles Rock Band video game. People got married in droves, especially in Las Vegas.

And on the ninth day of the ninth month of the century’s ninth year, Hollywood promoted a tale of a post-apocalyptic world inhabited by machines and nine ragdoll creatures, called simply 9.

The film follows “9” (voiced by Elijah Woods), a burlap-skinned creature who gains consciousness after humans, including his scientist creator, have been wiped out in a war. In the aftermath, which resembles bombed-out 1940s London, 9 slowly discovers in meeting other sock/robot creatures that they are in a fight for humanity’s survival.

Carrying parts of the soul of their creator, the various creatures – kindly inventor 2 (Martin Landau), mechanic 5 (John C. Reilly), and feminine warrior 7 (Jennifer Connelly) – help 9 battle the dinosaur- and spider-like machines that suck the souls out of the ragdolls, called “stichpunks.”

In addition to battling technology gone awry, 9 faces off against 1 (Christopher Plummer), the self-proclaimed and domineering leader of the numbered ones. Using giant and slow-minded 8 as his bodyguard and enforcer, 1 continually advocates delay and isolation in the face of danger. Wearing a miter-like hat in the manner of a cardinal, 1 is established as a straw man/stichpunk, and always a contrarian to 9.

An expansion of a 2006 Oscar-nominated 11-minute short film by director Shane Acker, 9 is the collective work of six producers, including Tim Burton, and three screenwriters, including Acker. It’s difficult for a film that is only 1 hour and 20 minutes to seem long, but 9 somehow manages. Although it is visually intriguing, 9 features continuous action with lots of explosions that has the unintended effect of monotonous repetition. It’s reminiscent of the most-reviled Beatles song, “Revolution 9,” in which a man’s voice repeatedly intones: “Number nine, number nine, number nine” (perhaps inspiring the selection of today’s date for a marketing blitz).

On top of the explosions, 9 features dialogue that is reduced to warnings about the machines and inane shouting of numerals – “9!” “2!” “7!”

While special effects are a great reason to see films on the large screen, people ultimately go to movies to see a story well-told. 9 falls short on this regard. If its release on the heels of another sci-fi film, District 9, causes confusion because of similar titles, be sure to see the vastly superior District 9, one of the better summer films (reviewed at Media Matters recently). The live-action documentary-style film depicts a stranded alien species being relocated from one refugee camp to another, incorporating biting social commentary. Where 9 tacks a moral on the end of a mishmash, District 9 conveys a strong message. Although it, too, succumbs to a shoot-em-up climax, District 9 helps us connect to the emotional journeys of the main characters, where 9 leaves us uninspired.

by Tom Price
Independent

The Sleep Dealer - Movies from Weekly Reviews

Thu, 3 Sep 2009 07:00:00 EST

Written and directed by Alex Rivera

The idea of a nanny in Mexico caring for a child in the U.S. via remote connection could be a utopian view of the future; here, it's a dark send-up of America's conflicted relationship to migrant labor.

Some might say that District 9, reviewed last week for this column, demonstrates a return-to-form for the science fiction genre. Writers such as Ray Bradbury helped pioneer the form with their tales of warning, and even early science fiction cinema offered moral critiques of current political powers. Central here is the spinning of a "what-if" scenario into a picture that is not merely predictive, but reflective on the current state of affairs. In this way, creators are free to take great liberties with possible future technologies—imagining interfaces that far outreach current technical knowledge—because their task is not to offer a crystal ball, but a mirror.

In this light, The Sleep Dealer, a recent art-house film due soon on DVD, might be a good pick for stimulating reflection and critique. The topic at hand for this film's creators is the border, specifically the US-Mexico border, as a place where more than states and citizenship are defined. Border spaces function as mechanisms of control for even peoples who live far from any checkpoint; if you're well familiar with this fact, then The Sleep Dealer may seem like a gross simplification of the issues at hand. But if you or your favorite movie-watchers haven't thought so much about about the implications of hi-tech border policing and surveillance for human rights, then this film might serve as a good introduction. Unlike other films that take on the complex stories surrounding borders and migration, The Sleep Dealer explores the central role of technology in these spaces, and thus makes a unique contribution to the field.

The story is set in the not-too-distant future, when the US border has finally been sealed to all non-citizens: no entry of any kind allowed. If current labor needs in America make this an impossible notion, Rivera's vision proposes a technological solution—in the form of virtual labor. Returning to a recurrent fantasy of science fiction, The Sleep Dealer hinges on the invention of a new human interface, in which users can plug-in biologically to borrow or lend consciousness. Instead of reporting to a physical assembly line in the U.S., laborers report to a networked facility in Mexico, where hundreds of workers pantomime the actions of distant robots, like puppets on strings. Likewise, "creative workers" offer bits of their own consciousness for others to purchase and download into their own bodies and brains; soldiers safe in their cubicles fly remote attack jets as if they were actually in the cockpit.

If such technology seems an easy leap from the present, there's also a dark humor in the way director Alex Rivera imagines it. In some films, the idea of a nanny in Mexico caring for a child in the U.S. via remote connection would be a utopian view of the future; here, it's a dark send-up of America's conflicted relationship to migrant labor. Rivera originated this idea through his earlier video shorts, such as Los Cybraceros (viewable in part on his website, www.alexrivera.com). The Sleep Dealer brings some of this earlier material into the language of genre cinema, which makes it at least easier to distribute on a mass scale, and perhaps more accessible for some audiences.

The film's main story revolves around three young adults, workers in different locations of the world of networked labor. Memo, the main character, comes from a rural Mexican farming community, where water rights speculation has made farming impossible. Luz, also in Mexico, is a college-educated creative worker, who seems to have taken the middle-class route of forgoing her science education to take up a precarious writing career. And lastly, Rudy is a virtual military pilot and reality-TV star, born in America to immigrant parents who seem to have settled in America before the border closed. Their stories intertwine in ways as dependent on technology as on serendipity. If the characters seem a little thin compared to those of less genre-bound cinema, they certainly suffice to tell a story, and help steer Rivera's dark techno-scenarios out of the realm of simple parody.

In the end, The Sleep Dealer is a welcome addition to the genre, premised on no small amount of poetry and imagination, and achieved through some delightfully lo-fi special effects. Close neighbors to this film might be Wenders' Until The End of the World, or Cronenberg's Existenz, where the plot may not be as strong as the premise, but where the scenarios are provocative and vital. The film would be a great way to introduce traditional sci-fi audiences to the many ethical implications of streamlining international commerce and labor. The globalized world may be "flat," but it's still borne on the backs of some people more than others.

Follow-up discussions would do well to try and unravel the film's conflation of border politics and remote labor, since some forms of "virtual labor" are in fact taking hold far from any border. (Rivera bases his virtual sweatshops in the border town of Tijuana, while the real Amazon.com's "Mechanical Turk" labor pool seems to know no boundaries.) It's thankfully more fashionable today to be aware of where one's products are made, and the conditions in which laborers work, but the futures hinted by The Sleep Dealer will likely find more stealthy ways to mask abuse. Our implication in such abuses as consumers will be increasingly difficult to discern and address.

The Sleep Dealer is slated for DVD release September 8th. It's rated PG-13, for some military violence, a little surgical imagery, and one relatively tame depiction of sex.

by Kevin Hamilton
Independent

Kevin Hamilton is assistant professor of art and design at University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign campus. He also is chair of their New Media program.