Friday, February 6, 2009

The Road

I’m reading Cormac McCarthy’s The Road right now and my heart is heavy under the tremendous weight of it. I’m reading the novel for the second time and for the moment I think it might be my favorite novel. I will probably change my mind on that at some point, but for the moment I’m utterly immersed in the world McCarthy’s has created. He won the Pulitzer Prize for the novel and I believe it was justly earned. His prose is lyrical, haunting and breathtakingly beautiful; it really sticks with you.

The novel is set in a post-apocalyptic world where humans are slowly becoming extinct. A father and son set out on a journey along what used to be an Interstate highway, but is simply known as “a road” since there is no such thing as states anymore. The duo’s journey south is out of necessity as the region they formerly inhabited is increasingly becoming too cold to sustain their existence, and like other great stories of migration, the journey gives the father a quest (he must deliver his son safely to the coast) as well as hope for the child (that he may find a better life in the south with food and other children to play with). But the landscape is bleak and desolate and though the child must have faith and hope, the reader, like the father, is constantly aware of the direness of their circumstances and the reality that their hope may be in vain. Literally all the two have to keep them going is clinging unflinchingly to the love they share.

The story evokes primal emotions and beliefs about what it means to exist and be human. The father and son have to decide what it means to choose good or evil and are forced to reinvent its parameters in a world stripped of human civilization. A world where some have reduced everything down to one axiom: survival. In this world where survival is uncertain and the fragileness of existence an incessant reality, theft, plunder, slavery and cannibalism are viable options for many and their merits the only means of subsistence. The ethics of this world are extraordinarily troubling to our sensibilities, but not outside the realm of possibility given the circumstances, which makes the territory McCarthy navigates resonate with disturbingly profound insight and tension.

The story also ponders the existence of God. The father cannot accept belief in God because of the terrible loss he has experienced, but at the same time the father clings firmly to his notion of what distinguishes good from evil and resists the temptation to choose evil. The father also admires what he sees as pure beauty and goodness in his son, and he cannot fathom where this beauty and goodness comes from or how his boy is capable of feeling and choosing it in the face of overwhelming atrocity. McCarthy captures the conflict at war in the core of the human soul: the paradoxical coexistence of good and evil and the fragile hope that pursing good will not be in vain, that at some point there will be a redemption of sorts—whether from divine intervention or from the eventual triumph of the good in the human spirit is unknown—but that in whatever form it takes, it will realign the universe and prove the endeavor of human existence had some sort of purpose beyond biological survival and the cold mechanical turning of the planetary system. Though for the moment this may be all we seem to have.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Infrastructure

The other week I heard on NPR an analyst talking about infrastructure in the U.S. and how it’s an important topic these days because the U.S. is falling far behind other developed countries.

Despite these tough economic times, if we don’t put some significant money into improving our infrastructure, then it will be worse in the long run. The analyst said that one main stumbling block of improving infrastructure is that it would mean the states’ governments would need to work together, and this is a difficult thing in our system because the people elected to office tend to pass favorable legislation for the people who made the biggest contributions to their campaign. This results in the clichéd “bridge to nowhere” which means for instance that instead of improving highways that are badly in need of repair or instead of putting a new road between states where one desperately needs to be put, they will approve funding for a unnecessary highway that may increase value in land owned by these special interest groups or the government may subsidize the building of a new sports arena when the old arena was perfectly fine, but the sports organization can profit by increasing ticket prices.

This is to say that when companies invest millions of dollar helping a politician get elected they expect something in return.

Hurray for Democracy!

The analyst noted that there are a few states that seem to be doing well, but it’s a tough sell all around because these are not the kinds of projects that help congressmen get reelected. They may have to say “no” to their special interest groups, and they know doing that will mean they loose campaign money.

I bring up this point to further illustrate my concern and question how it is possible to have faith in a system that is so thoroughly corrupt and functions according to the principles of greed and self-interest?

Friday, January 2, 2009

Happy New Year

As I was counting down the new year a couple nights ago, I turned on the TV and caught Ludacris singing his hit single One More Drink, which is a celebratory composition about sleeping with a girl one wouldn’t have ordinarily slept with without first having drank too much alcohol.

As the initial notes of his chart-topping number began, he gave everyone in Times Square as well as all tuning in on national television this injunction: “Everyone out there needs to drink responsibly tonight.”

Ting-a-ling!

Film Review: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is a film that is the third cousin twice removed from the short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald. This is to say the film rifled the basic premise of Fitzgerald’s story—that a man ages backwards—but has nothing further akin with the literary version.

What the film has going for it is the cinematography and the acting. The film is absolutely gorgeous to look at. The lighting is perfect, the colors deep and meaningful and the images beautiful. Also Brad Pitt’s performance is astounding; it’s understated and perfect for the part. He does so much with a single facial expression, more than most actors could do with the proverbial 1,000 words. What amazed me was that he could express in purely cinematic ways a child’s curiosity in the body of an eighty-year man. That’s no small feat. He is truly one of the greatest actors of our time. Also Cate Blanchett’s performance is phenomenal. She develops her character with great depth and sympathy.

Throughout the film I found myself lost in the cinematography and the acting, and I really enjoyed it.

However, when the film was over I had two immediate negative reactions mingled in my general feelings of warmth and pleasure. One was that there was too much voiceover narration, which is common of many films based on literature, however this film didn’t lift much of Fitzgerald’s prose because it didn’t match the differences in the tone or the plot of the film.

The other immediate problem I had was the lack of connection between the film’s framing narrative (the person reading the story about Benjamin Button) and the “actual” story (the story of Benjamin Button). There was an obvious connection between them, but thematically the connection wasn’t intuitive, and furthermore the framing narrative seemed more of a contrivance rather than something that helped develop the other story.

Upon further consideration of my second problem, the film fell apart for me.

I started asking numerous questions (which I’ll refrain from posting here in respect to anyone who wants to see the film) which I was afraid a second viewing of the film couldn’t answer. The basic problem of the film was, I decided, that as a fantasy it’s okay that it’s implausible (anyone wanting to see any film enters into a willing suspension of disbelief) but to be successful in the fantasy genre the film has to establish the rules of the fantasy land and abide by them. This film unfortunately never established the rules, and in the end had no clue what they were. After the emotion subsided I realized I too had no clue what they were, and this was a big problem. It’s certainly okay for a film to lack a certain correspondence to reality (people don’t age backward), that’s not the sort of plausibility I’m talking about, but rather it is important that a film express a logical internal coherence, and there were too many flaws in this film’s internal logic.

The film wanted one foot in fairy tale and one foot in reality. I thought the foot in fairy tale landed solidly, and the cinematography emphasized the fairy tale aspect of the film consistently and marvelously throughout. But the foot that tried to ground the film in reality stumbled miserably, and I thought ultimately lead to the failure of the film.

The film is directed by David Fincher (Se7en, Fight Club and Zodiac), so I expected the film to be a bit darker. However, it was penned by the writer of Forrest Gump, and I felt it was a little too schizophrenic in that it looked like a dark film visually, but was plotted like a “feel good” film.

My advice is to see the film in the theatre if 1) the premise interests you 2) if you don’t care to analyze film too much 3) if you love cinematography, good acting by Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett, or getting lost in a story. But if you’re looking for one of the best films of the year or something whose plot holds together well, don’t look here. Also it’s probably not worth seeing on DVD unless you have an HD TV and Blue Ray player, because the strength of the film is the visuals and is best suited for the big screen. I’ve heard buzz that this film may get a nomination for best film of 2008. I sure hope this isn’t one of the 5 best films of the year because it wouldn’t have even been in the top 25 of last year.