Captain America: The First Avenger

I never read Captain America comic books. I think my threshold for silly costumes is wearing the underwear on the outside of your pants (I'm looking at you Superman).

I guess I just instinctively check out when you also wear giant red pirate boots and have mini-wings on your cowl.

So, Captain America never really had my attention, but that’s not to say his character isn’t interesting. In fact, Captain America: The First Avenger is one of the better marvel movies, maybe one of the better superhero movies, that was released this year.

The director, cinematographers, set and costumer designers have painted a world on screen that exudes every bit of nostalgia that is necessary for a WWII era comic book movie to work without being distracting.

There’s a heightened realism to this movie. In other words, it can’t escape the trappings of traditional superhero fare, but the universe is portrayed in enough realism that it’s possible to accept it and enjoy. Take the aforementioned costume as the prime example. Rather than translating the costume literally (as you’re able to do with someone like Iron Man) they convert it to something practical while still paying homage to the infamously silly original.

However, it’s not simply the appearance of this movie that makes it an enjoyable success. Captain America represents something foundational to the reality in which we live: the source of real strength.

Steve Rogers is a physically pathetic, 90-pound, asthmatic weakling with an irrepressible heart of bravery. He persistently forges enlistment documents in an attempt to join the military and serve his country in WWII. Though his stature and health exams betray him every time he eventually captures the attention of German immigrant scientist, Dr. Erskine, who offers him the chance to become something more. After enduring a stereotypical, Sci-Fi/comic book, procedure, Rogers is transformed into a buffed up, Nazi punching, super solider.

What makes Rogers someone worth following, however, is not his strength. It’s how his weakness has shaped him.

Dr. Erskine says it this way, “Why [choose] someone weak? Because a weak man knows the value of strength, the value of power.”

Steve’s life-long friend Bucky, when asked if he’s ready to follow Captain America into battle, says it more clearly, “That little guy in Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight…I’m following him.”

“From where does strength come?” is the question that Captain America is attempting to answer. The film is as clear as can be: Steve Roger’s strength actually comes from weakness. Captain America is who he is because he was once weak. It shaped his character, his ambition, his motivations and so, his strength as a leader comes from his weakness.

Not surprisingly, this idea isn’t new. It comes from the very mind and will of our Creator. From the very beginning God’s power is on display in a “weakness” of sorts. Take for example, the creation narrative. Could God have created everything in the blink of an eye? Of course, but he doesn’t does He? He takes 6 days to create everything and by those 6 days of work and rest on the 7^th he gives us a pattern of life to follow every week: work for 6, rest on the 7^th. God shows us, in other words, to not think so highly of ourselves and our work that we don’t take a day off to notice how wondrous His works are and rest in them.

Take his work through Israel. Was Israel the obvious choice among the nations for spreading the fame of His name throughout the earth? Hardly. He chooses the least (the weakest) among the nations to serve His purposes for His glory.

Then, of course, there’s the cross of Jesus Christ. Is there a greater symbol for strength through weakness?

            “For [Christ] was crucified in weakness, but lives by the power of God” (2 Corinthians 13:4)

Captain America isn’t just a fun movie. It’s a subtle way to be reminded, and perhaps explain to your children, that real strength is not found in the pursuit for power and significance – that only destroys others and, eventually, us. Real strength is found in weakness, in humility, in other-centeredness. Tell them we know this is true because through weakness, the mightiest of acts has been accomplished on behalf of sinners too weak to save themselves.

High Noon

You gotta love Netflix Instant Viewing. Without it I might never have known that Titanic II and Zombie Women of Satan actually existed.  However, I might have also missed western classic "HIGH NOON" starring Gary Cooper and Grace Kelly.  Now, I'm sure Titanic II is a real heart stopper and Zombie Women of Satan is quite spiritually uplifting but you'll have to read another blog for the run-down on those cinematic treats.  I would love to review them, I really would, but I promised myself I'd try to stop watching movies that, when I watch them, make me feel like I've power gulped a 40oz. slushie in 30 seconds (*cough*DinnerforSchmucks*cough*).

Now, since there is no appropriate segue between brain stopping movie power and what I actually want to say, let's just start reviewing, shall we?  We shall.

HIGH NOON is the story of Newly Wed and very newly retired Marshall Will Kane, defending his town and his life from the threats, and eventual attack of his old "arch" enemy with no help or support from the people he is sworn to protect.
Upon hearing the news that nemesis Frank Miller has been inexplicably pardoned for his crimes and is now headed straight for town while his posse waits at the train station, Kane finds himself unable to leave his town unprotected.

HIGH NOON, directed by Fred Zinnemann, is brilliantly suspenseful, ratcheting up the tension as the Marshal's supporters dwindle one by one and the clock relentlessly progresses toward 12 'O Clock.  The stakes and the anticipation are raised each time his friends, deputy or even his wife refuse to stick around, making you wonder all the more if Marshal Will Kane is going to make it.  

What is it about a lone hero taking a stand against insurmountable odds?  Die Hard's John McClane is probably the closest (well executed) modern equivalent, taking the bad guys down with 'ol fashioned guts and steely determination.  But, even John McClane doesn't face what Will Kane must.  Kane could have escaped with his wife before any danger was present.  He was halfway gone before his conscience turned him back.  Not to mention his wife is totally unsupportive and determined to leave on the same noon train that's shuttling his enemy into town.  Even the town's people begin to wonder if things were really that bad when Frank Miller was around.
"Would it really be that bad if Frank was back?  After all, the saloons were busier back then and there were fewer rules to follow." Even the religious folk in town tell him they wouldn't blame him if he just took off and, in fact, encourage him to do so.

HIGH NOON has been historically criticized for the portrayal of Will Kane as atypical of the western hero, who, though he stands alone, still spends most of the film attempting to rally support and even having a moment of doubt before renewing his resolve to stand firm against the inevitable attack.  John Wayne called it the "most un-American" film he'd ever seen.

While I don't care about whether a film is "un-American" or not, I don't think Wayne's criticism was all that considerate.  I think there's something deeply compelling about the story and portrayal.  There's something realistic, honest, and heroic about the hero who moves forward as his support dwindles and disappears.  There's something heroic about the guy who is honest enough to admit that he struggles to move forward but does so anyway.

Why is that?  Could it be that these qualities reflect something in the ultimate hero?  Could we say that High Noon works because its framework was established from eternity by One who could have kept his comfortable status and avoided suffering at the hands of a mortal enemy?  Could we say it works because there's a bigger better story about a hero who persevered when the very people He came to save mocked Him, spit on Him, falsely accused Him, abandoned Him, betrayed Him and crucified Him?  Could we say it's satisfying because, even though His bride rejected Him, doubted Him, and left Him, he still rescues her and rides with her into the sunset?

I think so.

"Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, [6] who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, [7] but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. [8] And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross" (Philippians 2:5-8).

"Surely he has borne our griefs

and carried our sorrows;

yet we esteemed him stricken,

smitten by God, and afflicted.

[5] But he was wounded for our transgressions;

he was crushed for our iniquities;

upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,

and with his stripes we are healed.

[6] All we like sheep have gone astray;

we have turned—every one—to his own way;

and the LORD has laid on him

the iniquity of us all" (Isaiah 53:4-6)

This Is Exactly Why Superman Returns Worked For Me...

Yes, I know movie reviews have been scant lately and this doesn't really qualify as an entry in my catalogue.  While I haven't had a ton of time to concentrate on them, I do hope to have reviews out soon on High Noon and Get Low (no directional humor intended).  High Noon, a classic western starring Gary Cooper, may even have some special significance for Holy Week, but you'll have to wait and see where I think that connection exists.


For now, I thought some recent comments from Superman Returns director Bryan Singer were interesting in light of the reviews I posted several years ago when it first came out.


In my original review I said,
"In 'Returns', Superman is something of a Guardian Messiah. He rests, hovering over the earth, listening to every cry for help, every tragedy, always at the ready to swoop in and save the day. It is this idea that Superman tries to explain to Lois as he holds her above the city of Metropolis. He explains, despite her prize winning article about why the world doesn’t need a 'savior', he hears the world crying for one every single day. There is even one scene, after spending nearly all the energy he has, he falls to earth as if nailed to an invisible cross. Not to mention the subtle visual reference to an empty tomb later in the film (but I’ll leave it to you all to find that one)."


And...


"I suppose Lois [Lane] really is the perfect metaphor that represents Superman’s love for all of humanity and his home on earth. Yet again, another image of a Messiah, spurred to action and love for the sake of an imperfect, dare I say, sinful creation."


Now, consider Singer's recent comments on why he thinks Superman Returns was not well received as a Summer Supes Movie.


"I've always felt that the origin of Superman is the story of Moses -- the child sent on a ship to fulfill a destiny," said Singer, a producer on the upcoming X-Men: First Class. "And this was a story about Christ -- it's all about sacrifice: The world, I hear their cries. So what happens? He gets the knife in the side and later he falls to the earth in the shape of a crucifix. It was kind of nailing you on the head, but I enjoyed that, because I've always found the myth of Christ compelling and moving. So I hoped to do my own take, which is heavy [stuff] for a summer movie."


Mr. Singer, though I would argue that the narrative of Jesus Christ is not a myth, nor was it written in the style of a myth or legend, this "messianic thread" is exactly why Superman Returns continues to work for me.

How to Train Your Dragon

In my humble opinion, "How to Train Your Dragon" is the most surprising film of 2010.  First, every character is sarcastic.  This earns major points on my CG Cartoon scorecard.  Second, the voice cast is pitch perfect, carried beautifully on the scrawny shoulders of Jay Baruchel as Hiccup.
Hiccup is less than the Viking his father wanted and is not quite up to fulfilling the family tradition of regular dragon slaying.  Even though his inventiveness leads to a contraption that is able to capture the most elusive and dangerous of dragons (a Night Fury) he is unable to bring himself to slay it.

What may seem like a simple story about Vikings fighting dragons, or Vikings learning that dragons aren't that bad actually turns into something more profound than most, maybe even the filmmakers, might realize.

Plain and simple, How to Train Your Dragon, is about a group of people who unwittingly make a group of slaves their enemies when they should really be fighting to liberate them.  Let me explain.

Vikings and dragons do not get along.  Dragons are flying into Viking villages and stealing food.  Vikings fight back.  Damage ensues, limbs are lost, Viking feelings are hurt, etc.  Hiccup's father even leads a voyage (unsuccessfully) to find the dragon nest and slay them all for good.  Leaving his son at home to begin dragon slayer training, Hiccup's father actually creates an opportunity for Hiccup to spend all his time training and domesticating the new Night Fury he's just captured.  Unbeknownst to his family, friends and fellow villagers, Hiccup is befriending, training and learning to fly his new scalely friend.  On one of his flights Hiccup discovers the most horrifying truth of his life - one that could change his entire world.

The dragons that have been "attacking" Viking villages have actually been collecting food out of servile fear for a Master Dragon - a dragon more massive and terrible than all others put together.  In one shocking moment, Hiccup discovers his people have been making enemies when they should have been liberating slaves.

Does this sound like anything you've experienced or seen in life - even the church?  As believers in Christ and a people that confess faith in a Scripture that describes people as: sinners, lost, even enslaved to sinful passions and snares of the Devil, it would seem apparent that our job is to, through the faithful, gracious, loving proclamation of the truth, set captives free.

And yet, what do we often see happening in the church and what do we often see the church doing?  Making enemies.  We set ourselves at odds with a world of people we're called to reach with a message that liberates captives.

Perhaps we do this because it's easier to set our sights on what's in front of us; what we can see with our eyes.  The reality, however, is that our battle as Christians is not against flesh and blood, nor each other but "against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places" (Ephesians 6:12).

It's easier to make enemies than set captives free.  It's easier to see a non-believer that is opposed to my views, my lifestyle, my opinions as an enemy.  It's even easy to see fellow Christians as enemies if they disagree with me.  But the beautiful truth of the gospel is that though they may be opposed to me, even to Christ, liberation and reconciliation was achieved by one who lived among his enemies, suffered among his enemies, in order to set them free from their captivity.

Ephesians 2:13-16,

13 But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. 14 For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility 15 by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances, that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace, 16 and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility.

TRON: Legacy

At first I thought TRON: Legacy was logically impenetrable.  I don't mean to say I didn't enjoy it, because I really did.  It's just that, in a story about people becoming incarnated in a digital world, there were a few (read: a lot of) things that simply didn't make any sense to me.

Like:

Where in this digital world do you grow green beans to eat at your first dinner with your estranged son?

If Kevin Flynn, creator of the TRON universe is as powerful as everyone says he is why doesn't he ever do...well...anything?

Why does the "evil" program CLU see self generating ISO's that can apparently solve all of humanities problems as an imperfection and an obstacle to his goal of achieving a perfectly harmonious system?

And, finally, what does that last sentence even mean?

But, the more I thought about it, the more it made sense to me.  Well, not the digital green beans, but pretty much everything else.

What makes TRON: Legacy a fun experience is mostly due to aesthetic value (note: vastly superior aesthetic value) and timeless themes of self-sacrifice, familial reunion, the hero's quest and especially the fallacy of man-wrought redemption.

Aesthetic Value: Eye Candy on the Grid

Tron not only looks amazing, it actually feels like an 80's movie and, as a child of the 80's, this excites me about as much as my functional Darth Vader helmet.  The simplicity of the plot, the unapologetic Sci-fi nonsense, Journey's "Separate Ways" and Eurythmic's "Sweet Dreams" blasting in the background as Sam Flynn descends into his father's secret Arcade Hideout?  Yes, yes, aaaand yes.

The only thing that didn't work for me was the digital version of a young Jeff Bridges.  There are moments where I was convinced and able to forget that he was computer generated (or motion captured) but then his mouth would move and the magic was gone for me in those moments.  One day, special effects will render a realistic digital mouth and movie geeks of future generations will sit around and talk about the movie that broke the digital "lip barrier".  TRON: Legacy just isn't the one they'll talk about.

That said, there are reasons beyond the look of the film that make it a worthwhile experience.

Man Wrought Redemption: The Fallacy of a Man Made Utopia

In a big way, TRON: Legacy is about the fallacy of a man made Utopia.  Utopia, Paradise, Evolutionary Apex or Human Technological Enlightenment leading to everlasting peace are themes that often recur in Sci-fi media (see Star Trek as the most popular example).  TRON (and even the new Star Trak) poke holes through the tissue foundation of human self-salvation projects.

Kevin Flynn (Jeff Bridges), visionary creator of a digital world wherein humans can become incarnated citizens, creates the program CLU in his own image to help him create a "perfect world."  The problem is that CLU begins to see things a bit differently than his creator and decides to begin running things himself, eliminating anything that is not in order.  Human "users" and miraculously generated ISO's are an obstacle to achieving CLU's perfect system.  Humans pose a threat because of their unpredictability and frailty.  ISO's, programs that are seemingly created (or evolved depending on your bias) out of nothing without help or influence from users or programs represent a similar threat.  After CLU's coup d'état for control of the Grid, Kevin Flynn becomes a prisoner in the very world he created.

What Kevin Flynn must face, especially after his son Sam unexpectedly enters the scene for an accidental rescue mission is that his plan to create a perfect world was doomed from the beginning.  At the climax he tries to explain his failure to CLU, stating that, "perfection is unknowable."  I take that to mean perfection is unreachable, unattainable, or that man does not have the capacity to create it or find it.

He's right.  However, this doesn't rule out the possibility that perfection might find us and, consequently, change us.  The ISO's in this film prove that perfection and innocence is "knowable" and I think Flynn sees this in the end.  He just realizes that it was arrogant to think he could find it.   There's a reason stories like this work.  They work because there is a Creator that is greater than mankind.  There is a perfect Creator, a Master Storyteller, using the same outline of a fallen creation that is rescued via the incarnation of a Perfect Being.  

When To Talk To Your Kids About...

A Look Back at Stranger Than Fiction

I think most people either love or loathe Will Ferrell movies.  This makes Stranger Than Fiction a difficult sell.  If you're in the "Will Ferrell movies are comedically lazy and obnoxiously un-funny club" then why would you bother with Stranger Than Fiction?  If you're in the "Will Ferrell is the best thing since John Belushi only better because he's still alive club" then it's still a tough sell because Stranger Than Fiction is not a "Will Ferrell movie."  It's actually a really good movie in which Will Ferrell happens to star.

The Subject: Self-Determination = Slavery
Upon first glance all that's going on here is a clever little idea about a man hearing a mysterious voice in the sky that is narrating him towards his untimely demise.  The reality is that Stranger Than Fiction is a modern parable about how liberating predestination actually turns out to be.

Harold Crick is the self-determined man.  From the moment he wakes to the moment he lies down at night, Harold has planned and ordered his day according to his own acute sense of time and organization.

Little does he know that his life is being written for him by Karen Eiffel, a sarcastic, chain smoking british novelist.  One day, Harold awakes as he always does, begins meticulously brushing his teeth, as he always does when, suddenly, he can actually hear Ms. Eiffel narrating the events and activities of his life.

Dr. Mittag-Leffler: I'm afraid what you're describing is schizophrenia.

Harold Crick: No, no. It's not schizophrenia. It's just a voice in my head. I mean, the voice isn't telling me to do anything. It's telling me what I've already done... accurately, and with a better vocabulary.

Imagine Harold's shock when he hears that Ms. Eiffel is writing him towards his imminent death.

At the end of his wits Harold comes face to face with the fact that he has no control over his fate.  His story is being written for him.  In desperation, he goes to Literature Professor Jules Hilbert (Dustin Hoffman) for advice.  After a serious of amusing diagnostic tests Hilbert concludes that Harold does not, in fact, control his destiny and advices him to simply go and "live your life."  Everyone is going to die someday and it doesn't stop them from living, so why not just go and live your life, right?

Dr. Jules Hilbert: Hell Harold, you could just eat nothing but pancakes if you wanted.

Harold Crick: What is wrong with you? Hey, I don't want to eat nothing but pancakes, I want to live! I mean, who in their right mind in a choice between pancakes and living chooses pancakes?

Dr. Jules Hilbert: Harold, if you pause to think, you'd realize that that answer is inextricably contingent upon the type of life being led... and, of course, the quality of the pancakes.

I'm not sure I grasped the depth of this observation the first, or the second time I saw the film, but I'm beginning to think there's a lot of wisdom in these lines.  Professor Hilbert can see Harold's insistence on controlling every aspect of his own life has actually (and only) contributed to his own misery.  Watch the film again and take note of how many times Dr. Hilbert catches on to Harold's proclivity for counting things he sees (e.g., stairs, steps to the bathroom, amount of soap left in the dispensers, etc.).  Here he confronts the futility of Harold's life and forces him to consider that maybe, just maybe, the fact that he doesn't control his fate is the best news in all the world.

Sovereign Authorship = Freedom
How often do we hear or think that our subjection to a totally Sovereign "author" is nothing short of degrading bondage?  Yet what effect does this revelation have upon Harold?  Liberation.  Nothing short of total liberation.  He stops eating alone.  He stops living alone.  He stops counting his brush strokes.  He gets the guts to ask out that funky, cute baker, Anna Pascal (Pascal...yeah you read that right.  Coincidence?  Probably not).  He learns to play the guitar and he starts to smile and laugh.

Why?  Because he's finally been freed from the futility of trying to write his own story.  He begins to surrender to the fact that perhaps someone is writing a better story for him.  In fact, when Harold is thrust into the path of his author he urges her to let him live.  I'll spare you the details so you can savor them yourself.  The short of it is that when Harold reads what Ms. Eiffel has planned for him, he loves it.  Harold, at the end of the day, has to admit that he could not have written a better story for himself.

Most of the time I live as if I'm writing the story of my own life.  The contrary reality is that if I reflect upon my life there's plenty that I would not have written for myself and yet the very things, people, events, experiences that I would not have written for myself have made me who I am.

Consider how Romans 8 actually unites the ideas of Freedom and Predestination...

15 For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!”

28 And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. 29 For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. 30 And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.

It's interesting isn't it? The Bible actually ties predestination to freedom. If I had written my own story, according to Romans 8,  I would be more like "myself" and less like Christ thereby making me a slave to fear.

What other reasons do we really have for so tightly trying to control every area of our lives but fear?  We're afraid of not being secure, not being comfortable, not being accepted, not being cool, not being fed, not being...whatever.  We're afraid because we don't trust a storyteller, a Creator to provide the best story for us, wether that story be comedic at times and tragic at other times.

While Stranger Than Fiction certainly never intended to be a parable of total surrender to a Sovereign Creator it does demonstrate that External Sovereign Authorship does not nullify freedom and delight.  In Harold Crick's case, it was the occasion for freedom and delight.