To Christian Pro-Life Moviegoers: Put Your $ Where Your Mouth Is

I hear people all the time telling me how they wish more storytellers like me would get their movies made. Well, here is an opportunity to support just that.

A movie about the biggest serial killer in American history, the abortion doctor Kermit Gosnell who murdered thousands of LIVE BORN children, not merely in utero, but actually born children. Even pro-choicers should support this story but the media has ignored it because they think that it will jeopardize abortion rights if they publicize the truth.

I know these filmmakers. They tell good stories. They’ve done fantastic documentaries, like Frack Nation. But this will be a feature film. And it will be quality because they’re professional and serious about their craft.

This will not be like Facing the Giants. These filmmakers have a more mainstream sensibility in their filmmaking, and they will work with a pool of Hollywood type professionals.

I supported this film and you should too. In fact, when you do, tell them in the comments that they should hire Brian Godawa to write the script.

CLICK ON THE WIDGET BELOW and it will take you to the website to donate money to the project.

Please do this. I did. We must support these kind of projects..

Parkland: The Passion of the Christ Kennedy – Boring Idol Worship Movie

True Crime drama about what happened the day JFK was shot based on Vincent Bugliosi’s book. On the fiftieth anniversary year of Kennedy’s assassination, it is no surprise a movie like this was made. In and of itself, I don’t have a problem with that. It remains the single most curious assassination in history for most Americans, and I admit that I was curious to see the details of everything that went on that day myself.

Unfortunately, a movie about historical details does not a story make. I concluded that the movie was a boring hagiography for Kennedy idol worship, because quite frankly there was NO STORY justifying the movie. It was just boring apart from the excitement surrounding the bloody murder and all. We see what happened that day in the lives of people surrounding the event from Abraham Zapruder, who shot the infamous 8mm film, to Oswald’s brother, to the key doctors and cops involved. But there was NO STORY.

BOOOOORING.

I have to say on the positive side that it eviscerates the conspiracy theory which is itself a form of idol worship. Yes, one shooter, no cover-up, just honest internicene squabbles with incompetent government policy and workers on every level as well as a few chance events for a perfect storm. But I believe that conspiracy theories are literally god substitutes. For example, people cannot accept that such a nothing human being combined with unfortuitous chance events can ruin history so deeply. And when you don’t believe in a providential God controlling things, then you cannot live with the absurdity of such meaninglessness, so you create a “god” to fulfill that need for meaning behind events. In the case of conspiracy theories, it is actually an evil god, usually in the form of powerful people who have orchestrated it all for a diabolical plan. This gives meaning and purpose that they cannot live without.

Well this movie shows the very real and non-conspiratorial events that happened that day. Another reason why it is boring as a movie, because reality is often not a very well structured story. And conspiracies make for better movies; detailed real life is mundane.

But that is the idolatry with which I think it ends up replacing the previous idolatry. Why bother telling the story for petty details of pain alone? Unless you want to maintain the fantasy Camelot glory of the man as they do in this movie by elevating the tragedy to godlike importance and blood sacrifice atonement. The blood in this movie made me think of The Passion of the Christ. And they never show the face of Kennedy with a kind of holy diversion reminiscent of how Jesus was avoided in Ben Hur. Even Jackie’s face is often avoided to keep her as a kind of Mother Mary Jackie. The terror and despair in everyone’s faces and lives throughout the whole movie made you think Jesus himself died and America lost its innocence and hope – which is exactly what Kennedy worshippers believe.

The real assassination of America’s innocence was the 1960s. We are still suffering the devastating effects in every area of life from that immoral rebellion.

Ironically, those Kennedy worshippers would damn Kennedy TODAY for being a politician whose policies were more like a modern liberal Republican than the current Democrat party of his heritage. OMG, the god Kennedy believed in less taxes and American supremacy abroad? Why that is as evil as the devil himself: George W. Bush! And to modern Democrats, that would make Kennedy a warmongering racist (of white privilege) since he was a white rich cracker and disagreed with Obama’s policies. Even worse, he was pro-life!

The laughable legacy of Kennedy worshippers is that they are still today actually spinning the story as if Kennedy was killed by a Right Wing “hateful city of Dallas.” These fools must not know that Dallas was a liberal potpourri and that Oswald was a Left Wing Communist who murdered a guy whose policies were more right wing than the Democratic Party would ever tolerate today! JFK would not even be allowed to speak at the DNC because of his political beliefs. Truth just doesn’t matter to idol worshippers.

Just their religion.

And the truth is, a far greater man died on that same infamous day in history. A man whose legacy really has changed the world for the better. A man who, while he doesn’t deserve idol worship, and he would decry it as well, he does deserve a higher recognition. He represented and served a true Camelot God and kingdom, but his death was overshadowed by a media obsessed idol worshipping kingdom of man. He didn’t live a life of wealthy privilege, and didn’t have a world of sycophants covering up serial immoral sexuality, selfish abuse of authority, and drug addiction. He wasn’t a perfect man, but he was a more worthy one.

That man was C.S. Lewis.

Now his is a story more worth telling.

House of Cards: Shakespearean Tragedy About the Political Pursuit of Power – of Democrats, that is

Netflix Political Thriller series. An amazingly written and directed series starring Kevin Spacey as Francis Underwood, a Democrat congressman who is withheld from a position in the new Democrat administration in Washington, and enacts revenge on those who betrayed him.

I get tired of all these series that are based on anti-heroes or worse, villains as heroes. But House of Cards is not one of them. At least not yet. It is Shakespearian in its dramatic quality and appears to me to be the set up for a tragedy on the level of Breaking Bad.

There is no bones about the storytellers showing us in the first scene that Underwood is a Machiavellian villain who is not a good man, when he breaks the neck of a dog that survived being hit by a car. Of course he tells us that he is the one who does what needs to be done, but no one wants to do it. But it doesn’t matter what his justification is; if you kill a dog you are evil. That’s movie and TV rules. ☺

And we know that we are going to be following the mind of a man whose sole ambition is power because he tells us so. He regularly “breaks the third wall” and talks to us the audience in asides to give us what is really going on in his mind. It’s a truly satisfying and clever storytelling technique that builds rich irony we could not know otherwise.

A subplot surrounds his wife’s own political ambitions mixed with humanitarian causes and the weird twisted agreement they have in their marriage that looks a lot like the Clinton arrangement, if you know what I mean.

Of course there are others whose stories we follow as well, like the young reckless congressman who is being used as his life falls apart, and the amoral journalist who spouts journalistic integrity about not revealing sources while sleeping with the congressman to get stories for her own advancement.

But here is the interesting thing —no, the fascinating thing. Though it is a series about politics, it is kind of apolitical in that it doesn’t seek to make specific political policy arguments like the West Wing or other courtroom shows these days. And it hasn’t made any political potshots at Republicans that I was aware of. It’s really more about the pursuit of power. In fact, everyone in the show is driven not by truth or justice but by different ambitions of power.

Everyone.

In the entire first season, it seems there was not a person who truly believed in any policy they fought for. They only fought for what was most convenient for their personal advancement or ambitions. Policies are mere means to their ends of power. Talk about the ultimate revelation of the true corruption of politics! The only one who seemed to have integrity, was a low level worry wart who was fired in the first two episodes for her moral convictions.

I make a qualification. There are two women who seem to believe in their causes moreso than others: Underwood’s wife, Claire, played with perfection by Robin Wright, and an activist she hires. But by the end of the first season, they engage in unjust immoral and illegal actions to further their own interests as well. Claire brings food from her privileged class fundraising party out to the protestors outside her event. But of course we see it is only a photo op to look compassionate and make the protestors look bad. And the activist maliciously initiates a lawsuit based on politically correct lies of “social justice” to get revenge on Claire for firing her. An ironic revelation of how social justice is revealed as a weapon of social injustice. In other words, their commitment to a cause is a self righteousness that they use as a weapon of – you guessed it, POWER. In fact, one suspects that Claire like a Lady Macbeth (or Lady Clinton), has her own diabolical purposes that drive her façade of social concern.

One might say this is a cynical show about politics. A very cynical show.

Or, one might say it is a revelation of the truth behind the Democratic Party.

Yes, I know I said that it is apolitical on the surface. And yes, I know the storytellers are all, no doubt, Democrats, and I don’t suspect that is their intent to dump on the Democrats at all. And I know the show is only beginning. But so far, if you think about it, they could have made a show about Republicans doing all this evil and corruption, which is the usual spin, but they didn’t. They chose the Democratic Party.

Which works best because it is the Democratic Party that is essentially the party of the pursuit of Power.

One could say House of Cards is the Anti-West Wing.

Think about it. Of course there are individual corrupt Republicans and big government Republicans as well. And the RNC is full of cowards who bow to political correctness and compromise their values or even seek power. These are the inescapable results of a fallen world of corrupt individuals everywhere. But the Republican Party, as a party, is philosophically founded on creating smaller government and less government for more personal freedom for people to take care of themselves and each other. The party was created to fight slavery, for God’s sake!

The Democratic Party philosophy, on the other hand, is based on building bigger government and expanding government control, and creating more dependents on government handouts to get votes, which is more power and control over people’s lives. Its very essence is Power, for gods’ sake! (That is, for the sake of being gods).

So the RNC is based on smaller government and less power, while the DNC is based on bigger government and more power. Yes, there are evil people in each party, but this series, so far, is a lens into the actual philosophy of the DNC and their corrupt systemic mindset of POWER.

Let’s see if they try to spin it around as the series goes on, but for now, it was refreshing to see a Hollywood political TV show finally speak the truth to Power.

American Hustle: Love Brings Truth in a World of Lies

Caper Movie based on a true story from 1978. A couple of con artists, Irving and Sydney, played by Christian Bale and Amy Adams, are caught and forced by the FBI to help them conduct stings on political and mafia powerbrokers in Jersey. Bradley Cooper is Richie, an ambitious FBI agent that gets embroiled with the two of them in a love triangle that messes with all of their heads and ours as we wonder every step of the way, who is conning who?

Okay, it’s hard not to like this film for me. The 1970s is just about the most perfect era when it comes to soundtracks. Although I didn’t hear the best ones like Led Zeppelin, Boston, ELO and the like, it was still a pleasure to swim in the glory of some of the lesser quality of the best rock and roll ever (and even some disco ☺). The writing is fabulous, the acting is brilliant, Jennifer Lawrence STEALS the movie with her funny annoying New Jersey housewife schtick. All the characters are sadly pathetic in the most fascinating of ways. David O. Russell is a fantastic director (having given us the brilliant Silver Linings Playbook).

It’s a pretty predictable theme of con movies that you can never believe what you see, but it works well because it remains a true revelation of human nature, the dark side of every one, even the apparently good people. As the con men repeat, “People believe what they want to believe,” we are introduced to a story that explores both this epistemological question and its moral ramifications on our lives. We see the result of the truth, also spoken by the hero, that people tell themselves lies to protect themselves from the truth and even from themselves.

It is a world of gray that Irving brings to the black and white self-righteousness of Richie the FBI man as he is introduced to the con world. We see Irving also involved in the sale of expensive art forgeries. But when Richie challenges that morality, Irving shows him a Rembrandt masterpiece at a museum and tells him it’s a forgery, but people don’t know. It’s forged so well that people cannot tell the difference, so what is the difference if they can’t tell? How is anyone hurt?

This is a movie lays out a world of morally gray life at every angle. We see Irving fall in deep love with Sydney only to discover that Irving is living a double life because he is unhappily married. But no one in this movie is all bad or all good. But no one is entirely honest either. The FBI agent Richie seeks justice, but he is overly ambitious and flawed with a violent temper that hurts others in his quest for truth and justice. He also has his sexual weakness as well, but he ain’t a corrupt lawmen. No one is fully corrupt in this film except the mob. Even the mayor Carmine, played by Jeremy Renner, that is getting stung for playing loose with the law is depicted as someone who is not intent on criminal deeds, but rather a man who breaks a few rules to help the people of his beloved city. He is a hero of the working man. These are all people who seek to navigate through a grey world without moral absolutes, because as Rosalyn says, “Sometimes, all you have in life is F*ed up poisonous choices.”

I think there is also a powerful underlying theme that love brings honesty and truth into our lives. For all three leads, when they finally and truly fall in love in the story or experience a genuine relationship of honesty giving from another human being, they shed elements of their dishonesty and seek to be known. We see each person respond to their friend or lover by coming clean, and then facing the pain of the consequences of their betrayal and coming clean. It is all quite redemptive, that is: love redeems our flaws with the clarity of black and white truth in a morally compromised world of grays.

The weakness of the story for me was in the criminal as hero storyline. Look, I don’t have a problem with heroes being flawed and all that. Of course, we’re all tainted. But I just don’t like movies that get the audience to root for a criminal to get away with a crime. Unless…

SPOILER: In this case, the con men ultimately con the FBI. And I don’t have a real problem with that – if they were conning corruption. The problem is that in this movie, the FBI guy was flawed, but not corrupt. If he was corrupt I would have more sympathy for the protagonists, but as it stands in this story, the FBI was just not as experienced. He was incompetent but not corrupt. His naïve machinations trying to capture the mob places our protagonists in jeopardy, so they get out of it by protecting the mob boss from their sting (who would kill them all when he found out) and blackmailing the FBI to let them go.

It all ends up fine in the end with our heroes returning money to the FBI and going clean in their lives. Without THAT ending, I would have hated the movie. Because getting away with a crime is not justice, no matter how much we sympathize with a hero. But as it stands, the theme is a powerful truth with a slight flaw: Love redeems lies and brings honesty, but the ends justifies the means.

Here is my cultural concern: If we tell stories that justify to people that they can disregard law when they think government is incompetent, then we cannot complain when we have a society of people that disregard law when they think it is incompetent (which it virtually always is). We build the very anti-authority into citizenry that we then complain about when we have such blatant criminal disregard for law like tax evasion, knockout games and flash mobs and a police that can no longer stop the riots and crime that happen around the country by radical activists in their protests. Or the absurd increase in shooting sprees because such criminals know the law has its hands tied and they will become heroes as antiheros in the media.

I don’t believe this is the intent of the filmmakers, but I do think it can have that effect on the audience values if we are not careful.

The Counselor: Nietzsche at the Movies, or Shakespeare without Redemption

Crime thriller. After watching The Counselor, you get the feeling that you need to take a shower. And not because it was a guilty pleasure, but simply because you’ve wallowed in a nihilistic worldview for an hour and half that ends in despair and offers no way out of evil.

It tells the story – and not a very clear story – of a greedy lawyer, the Counselor, played by Michael Fassbender, who gets in way over his head when he gets involved with drug traffickers and his deal goes awry. He is portrayed as a man who has finally found true love with the beautiful Laura, played by Penelope Cruz and buys her a diamond he cannot afford, which is the symbolic impetus for him stepping over the line into big illegal money.

A couple of his criminal “friends” tell him not to do it because he is too naïve to handle it. (This is not the same as a moral injunction to do the right thing.) Of course the deal goes wrong when someone steals the shipment from Fassbender’s connections, and all those connected with him are hunted down to pay.

The thing about it is, I went to this movie because of the A-list director, Ridley Scott, and the A-list cast of Fassbender, Cruz, Brad Pitt, Javier Bardem and Cameron Diaz. I was disappointed. Sure, because of Cormac McCarthy, it had some of the most lyrical existential dialogue ever in a thriller or crime movie (albeit, some of it out of place and self-important). But in the service of a nihilistic worldview, such lyricism becomes verbose mockery. McCarthy’s cynicism here amounts to self-righteous platitudes.

There is a scene where the ruthless Cameron Diaz visits a priest for confession only to mock him. But the scene was out of place and confusing and didn’t make much sense other than to show her mockery of religion. And that same religious commitment in the innocent Laura made her ignorant and a victim to the strong.

On the surface, I should like this movie because it is kind of a two hour movie version of Breaking Bad. That is, there is heavy lyrical poetry spoken throughout about how our decisions make us who we are and our actions have consequences. (I forgot my note pad, so I didn’t get any of them down. But I probably wouldn’t have been able to anyway, because there was so much of it and quite complex at times). But what I picked up from it was the added notion that we cannot undo the bad choices we’ve done. There’s no going back. No second chances. Our choices set in motion an inevitable ending of despair and death.

Now, on the one hand, for those without God, I would quite agree that there is no hope, just death in this life (I would add: Judgment after that). And yes, the world of crime and evil never ends well, and even ends in destroying innocent people, which is a moral truth in the right context. But a story that ONLY shows the dark and the evil and shows no good in contrast, no hope for redemption spurned, no possibility to change, is a story that communicates there is no hope or redemption.

That is nihilism.

That is not worth an audience.

Mud: Amazing Movie of Male Liberation

Southern Coming of Age Romance. Young Ellis and his friend Neckbone are two young boys living in the impoverished Arkansas off the Mississippi river. While exploring a small island on the river one day, they stumble upon an old boat that has mysteriously found itself way up on a tree. They soon discover it is being inhabited by a fugitive named Mud, played with brilliance by Matthew McConaughey. Mud is on the run from a pack of vigilantes. It turns out he has a troubled life of pursuing his childhood sweetheart, Juniper (Reese Witherspoon), a beautiful white trash woman who cannot seem to stay committed to Mud. She is a floozy who keeps sleeping with bad boys, and then gets in trouble and runs to Mud to protect her. Well, this time, she was beaten up pretty bad, and Mud went too far. But they have agreed to meet up at a certain date in this certain town to run off together. Now Ellis and Neckbone are going to help him reunite with his beloved Juniper and ride off into the sunset.

This movie is refreshing and bold mythic storytelling. It is an extreme rarity: A tale of Male Liberation. Hollywood is flush with Feminist tales of female liberation: Thelma and Louise, The Stepford Wives, Little Black Book, Mona Lisa Smile, Erin Brockavich, The Color Purple, The Help, The Hours, Portrait of a Lady, The Piano, and on and on.

The typical scenario in feminist “romances” is that women interact with all the possible negative stereotypes and cliché’s of men (no quality men seem to exist in this delusionary agenda), only to find that she has allowed herself to be defined by men and discovers that she doesn’t need men, she just needs a vision, a career or some other thing that gives her meaning other than a man. In other words, she can be just like a man and get her meaning from what she does.

As untruthful as this worldview has proven to be in the real world, and despite all the millions of women’s lives that it has ruined by making them think they can be like men, only to discover too late that they are not and are left with crushed desires for a family and relationship, I still actually like watching feminist movies. I still think that stereotypes exist because they are based on real existing patterns, and there are too many abusive and selfish men in this world who use women and do not sacrifice themselves for love. I enjoy feminist movies because I want to be more sensitive and understanding to women and their condition and nature and even how they are unfairly treated at times.

But I still want to keep my testicles, thank you.

And the feminist narrative is not an honest narrative precisely because it is a victim myth. It shifts the blame onto men and society, as well as denying nature and biology. But the only blame women in these narratives have is – now get this – that they have accepted their “oppression.” The classic justification of victim theory: The denial of one’s own true moral failure.

Actually, like Mud, many of us men are incurable romantics who want to be the knight in shining armor that rescues a woman and provides for her safety and happiness in this world. Yes, we do exist. And men can be used just as much by women as in the reverse. And they often are. But the difference between feminist movies and a men’s liberation story is that the male liberation narrative, like Mud, is a more honest self-aware narrative. It doesn’t shift the blame onto women, it only acknowledges “bad” women, while admitting men’s own flaws. This is not only more true and honest, it makes for better storytelling and richer more complex characters – as opposed to negative clichés of feminism.

So, in Mud, you actually have the manipulative female, but you also have all the classic negative males. But here’s the twist, both the men and women all have both good and bad traits. No one is completely bad. But no man or woman is completely good either. Let me explain.

The protagonist is not actually Mud, but the young boy Ellis. This is a male coming of age story that for once isn’t about “losing your virginity.” Mud becomes the mentor hero that Ellis looks up to because Ellis is falling “in first love” with a young lady in town, and he is drawn to Mud’s romanticism and heroic desire to protect Juniper. The problem is, Ellis’ love interest is another young version of Juniper who Ellis uses his brawn to protect, only to discover she is manipulating him. So as Ellis looks around him, he gets advice from his father that “love will not last” just as love in his marriage did not last (And by the way, his wife is not depicted as the problem either). He sees the betrayal of Juniper, and you would think even Mud would learn a misogynist message that no woman is worth it. But that is not the answer in this story. Both Mud and Ellis remain romantics in realizing that they were just fools to fall for the wrong one. They still believe in love.

And why? Because a woman needs a man to believe in, but a man needs a woman who believes in him. We need each other. And to give up on that would be to become cynical and lose the hope of true romantic and chivalric love. In other words to become feminist or egalitarian.

Ellis’s dad is a struggling man of low employment whose marriage is crumbling because he feels less of a man for not being able to maintain the family riverboat and therefore his fish business. He has his bitter drinking bouts, but AMAZINGLY, he does not degenerate into the classic cliché wife beater! Not once does he become violent. It is an honest dealing with what many men struggle with. I ask you, when was the last time you ever saw a Southern out of work hick who was NOT a wifebeater in a movie? And this is not a very good example of a father in his lack of communication. But we see that he does love his son, and that he has a high value of ethics on not stealing. These characters are wonderfully fascinating and rich characters with flaws and good qualities. We are after all, fallen splendor.

Neckbone is living with his uncle, a kind of industrious slacker played with fantastic nuance by Michael Shannon. This guy hasn’t grown up. He’s in his thirties probably, still plays in a rock band like a high schooler, is not sexually sensitive to his girlfriend, and is not a great influence on Neckbone. BUT he is amazingly ingenious in creating a diving suit with lights to get clam traps in the river as well as repairing good junk he finds and makes it usable again. He provides the wisdom of the film when he says, “This river brings a lot of trash down it. Some of it is worth a lot of money. Some of it is junk. You gotta know what’s worth keeping and what to let go.” When he discovers his nephew might be getting into trouble with Ellis, he doesn’t act like a Nazi but he does keep an eye on his nephew and warns him about being responsible.

Then, Sam Shepherd plays an ex-marine sharpshooter who raised Mud and tries to stay out of everybody’s business like the classic curmudgeon. But when his shooting skills are needed to stop the bad guys, he’s there, baby! Like a MAN!

Then you have Mud. Not the best of male examples for a young boy. BUT he knows it. His story begins with a rather selfish bargaining chip of getting the boys to help him rebuild the boat to escape outta there, but ends with him endangering his own life to save Ellis from a snake bite. So the man has to grow up as much as the child. And the most telling and mature wisdom in this film comes when Ellis and Mud are saying goodbye and Mud can see Ellis’ pure heart for love and he tells him “You’re a good man, Ellis.” And Ellis responds by saying that Mud is a good man too, but Mud says, “No. No, I ain’t.” WOW. What feminist movie would admit THAT flaw in their heroine emasculators? This is the honesty of male liberation. Mud knows and admits his flaws and seeks to overcome the flaw in himself, the real moral flaw, not the blameshifting psychological flaw.

I would say that my one big complaint is that Mud never chooses the true moral choice of turning himself in for the crime he did commit and that quite frankly spoils an otherwise fabulous morality tale. But no story is perfect. And we must be able to “know what’s worth keeping and what to let go.”

I could go on. This movie was a refreshing and satisfying story so lacking in today’s blockbuster morrasse of male juvenility.

Jobs: Visionary as Obsessive Narcissistic A$$h*!e Changes the World

A biopic about Apple. What? You thought it was about Steve Jobs? Well, it is – technically — but watching the movie gives one the impression that it is more about the image and concept of the innovative company than about the human Steve Jobs, which as I understand is accurate, because he was not very human to people. However, of all the options of what story to tell, I think they chose an interesting one, because the theme of Jobs’ life as expressed in the movie is about his vision of changing the way we see computers into one that the product should be a natural extension of the individual. So it would make sense that this two hour commercial for Apple follow the same paradigm as the product to capture that essence.

And that thematic approach is what brings transcendence to the movie. It’s about something bigger than Jobs, a way of seeing the world, of changing the world. It’s sad that that “something bigger” was ultimately only a business and a product which cannot give true spiritual meaning or purpose to life.

As a Mac enthusiast myself I was fascinated to see the “story” of the spirit of that venture and of Steve Jobs. That is what a biopic is supposed to do, capture the spirit, not necessarily the historically accurate details of someone’s life. And I think writer Matt Whitely and director Joshua Michael Stern do an excellent job of painting the portrait of that artistic entrepreneurial genius.

They follow him with brief episodic moments of his college days dropping out of the “system” of college, his experimentation with drugs, his original pairing with Steve “Woz” Wozniak in his father’s garage to make the first Apple computer, and on up through his firing from Apple, it’s demise, and Steve’s recapture and reconstitution of Apple into the greatness it originally was.

The bulk of the story is told through the business/entrepreneurship angle, but what little personal human narrative they bring in is rather poignant about the character of this visionary entrepreneur who changed the world.

In the very beginning, we get the faintest glimpse of the fact that his birth parents had given him out to adoption. He wonders with anger “who has a baby and throws it away like it’s nothing?” Of course, this would be prophetic for him as he proceeds to use and cut through every friend he has on the way to the top and throws them away like they are nothing.

Because of his growing obsession with doing something great, he tramples over everyone who ever helped him. When he just gets going, he gathers together neighbors and friends to help build the business and then fails to give them options when the company goes public, while later screaming at Bill Gates for stealing his operating system (they chose not to depict how Steve hypocritically stole the operating system from Xerox). He gets a girl pregnant when he was just starting out, and then proceeds to throw the baby away, as he was thrown away, by denying his paternity and telling the girl, it’s not his problem, “it’s not happening to me.” (Which as an aside, is technically the completely logical consequences of the feminist abortion movement that tries to take away the male’s choice in having the child and then hypocritically tries to force that responsibility back on him through alimony laws.) At one moment in the story, Woz, the very guy whose idea the Apple personal computer originally was, leaves the company and tells Steve, “It’s not about the people anymore for you. It’s about the product.” Again, something that Steve apparently embraced.

But all this megalomaniacal pathos is balanced by some truly memorable proverbial wisdom that Steve spouted about being an inspiration for the odd balls, the rejects, the nerds, who can change the world, and the belief in the limitless possibilities of the human imagination. Not just better, different. There are the required references in there to the 1984 Apple campaign and Job’s statement to Scully, Exec at Pepsi, about not being known for selling sugar water but for changing the world.

We humans are complex creatures of good and bad, and visionaries are too often larger than life exaggerations of that complexity, so the movie is a fair portrayal of such ambiguity and inconsistency. But in the end, it is ultimately a very sad and tragic tale of a man who “changed the world” and provided inspiration for hundreds of millions, while losing his own soul in the process.

But it all got me to thinking about what I call the Salieri Syndrome. For years, I have struggled with the apparent fact that world changers and visionaries and great artists and intellects etc. on the whole tend to be the worst sort of human beings. They tend to sacrifice other people to their “higher cause” in the name of helping people. In short, it seems greatness so often lacks goodness.

Remember Salieri from Amadeus? How he wanted to do great things for God and how God made him mediocre while blessing the infernal monkey Mozart with the highest of musical gifts? Or like Steve Wozniak, who was gifted with the idea but not the greatness to make his idea change the world, while the selfish narcissist Jobs got the job done, and all the glory. How many of us have had youthful desires to change the world, to do something great, something significant with our gifts and lives — but to also be a loving human being, and dare I say pleasing to God? – only to see that users, manipulators, and a-holes seem to be the ones who achieve the most success in their field or change the world. It’s almost as if the two are mutually exclusive. The good are rarely the great, and the great are rarely the good. (Yes, yes, yes, I know there are always exceptions, plenty of exceptions. I am talking here of majority, not absolutes).

Perhaps it is a delusion to seek the combination of greatness and goodness. Maybe that’s like saying I want to be both proud and humble. When you get to the second half of your life and like most people, you either haven’t achieved your dreams, or you realize you never will, you re-evaluate your priorities. You start to think, maybe, just maybe, loving people instead of using them for our purposes, our “dreams” or our “higher causes” changes us, and that’s the world most in need of changing.

Quartet: Growing Old Sucks $#!%!

Is all we have to look forward to in our twilight years, the hope for a one last curtain call? This was a cute, whimsical, and serious movie all rolled into one with some wonderful characters, drawn out boring singing scenes, and a depressing ending that is supposed to be uplifting.

In this story about a retirement home for accomplished musicians, all the old folks are preparing to perform a concert for Verdi’s birthday. But trouble happens when a diva, played elegantly by the wonderful Maggie Smith, arrives and stirs up past hurts with her ex-husband who also lives there and has been trying to avoid her for the rest of his life.

I like movies that make me examine my life and make me question whether or not I am investing in what really matters. Therefore, I like movies about death and movies about people facing the end of their life. But this one didn’t deliver in the usual way. It pretty much backfired.

Here’s why:

First of all, Billy Connolly is the lovable comic relief of the ladies man who still can’t stop hitting on the young working women at the retirement home. But you get the sense that he was a desperate bid to bring some life to an otherwise drab bunch of old cranks, half wits and babblers. Now, you would think that would not be the case, because some of the characters are dramatic and others cute and eccentric, and they all had successful careers as musicians, and singers, which was supposed to have given them a life well lived. So the idea of a group of such people preparing for a concert to reprise their yesteryears would make one think it is a good high concept. Unfortunately, there were too many indulgent scenes of showing the singers and musicians practicing that it just got boring and FAST FORWARDSVILLE, baby. I think the director, Dustin Hoffman, suffered from his actor’s perspective of thinking we want to see the real life ex-musical artists he cast bathing in their younger glories and singing pretty well on screen. Not me. I want a good story.

But I don’t want to be too hard on this movie, because the main theme of a divorced couple finding forgiveness at the end of life for past infidelity had a note of grace and hopefulness, especially at the ending.

But the problem for me was that all the forgetfulness, all the declining body functions, all the cute and mindless or silly babbling people, and all the reminiscing and fantasizing about the good old days when they were somebody that surrounded the few people with their wits just made getting old look entirely undesirable and dreadful.

But isn’t that what you want, Brian? Didn’t I say that I like movies that make me examine my life, yada yada? Well, not if the hope that is presented is an illusory and fleeting recap of the humanist attempt to find meaning in what ultimately has no meaning. And that is what this movie lacked for me: Transcendence. It tries to find hope in a hopeless situation, and in so doing distracts us from our real need.

Rather than finding some hope in the midst of a sad reality in this story, I didn’t find any because apart from that forgiveness moment of husband and wife, the big context of the movie’s big theme was summed up in the ending shot after their also-boring performance of the Verdi concert. The people we saw struggling through their age issues end up with a “glorious” slo mo curtain call of happiness after their performance of a song together, giving one the impression that they ended well or that they were ending their life with a joyful curtain call so to speak.

But this is not satisfying because it is shallow and empty.

I am sorry, but the revelation of a life lived by seeking to be loved through performance, and glorying over great songs or experiences or moments of singing is precisely that flaw that needs to be redeemed, not reinforced. It is the delusion of all artists and entertainers, of which I am both, so I know of what I speak. At the end of my life, I know that I am not going to look back on my life and consider all the art I did and how great it made me feel and try to rekindle older fleeting moments of vanity and chasing after the wind. Because I know that all of it will turn to dust. I am not going to be thinking of any of that. I know I am going to be thinking did I know and walk with my Creator? Did I give my life away to others? Did I invest my life in the truth that transcends our muddled and painful existence? If there is nothing beyond this existence then all the performance is a delusion of denial to keep us from facing the truth that none of it has lasting effect. It will mock us at our death. It will not be a curtain call, it will be a Satanic horror movie where reality is the opposite of our delusions and it will damn us.

I write about this very Ecclesiastes-like theme of angst and the despair of meaninglessness in my novel, Gilgamesh Immortal, a retelling of the Gilgamesh epic retold within the context of a Biblical worldview. We must be honest with the despair of reality and the meaninglessness of a worldview without ultimate transcendence, a worldview without God, and only then can we begin to find the truth that transcends that reality to bring meaning and purpose to our hollow humanistic lives.

Silver Linings Playbook

Everybody’s mentally ill! A dysfunctional romantic comedy about Pat (Bradley Cooper in his usual flexible acting excellence) is home from the mental hospital after 8 months. He was sent there because he had a hostile outburst beating up his wife’s adulterous partner after catching them at home. Pat is delusional in that he thinks he can fix his marriage and his wife will return to him. But when he meets brutally honest Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence is phenomenal), who goes sexually promiscuous crazy after her beloved husband died, he gets sidetracked into discovering what is reality, and it ain’t what he thought.

This is all about how funny mental illness can be. Of course, I’m being facetious, because the mental illness becomes a hook for the storytellers to have fun with the ironic contrast of honest crazy people versus the delusionary dishonesty of normal people. In the real world, this stuff is not funny, but movies are not the real world, they are parables using a fictional world to make us see ourselves through different eyes and therefore learn something about ourselves.

There’s certainly room for some to see this as the dysfunctional Hollywood worldview of reality that is so jaded and cynical that it must have antiheroes and dysfunction to be entertained because the storytellers are themselves nihilists who are numb to hope and goodness. You know, the juvenile pseudo-philosophizing of “how do we know WE are not the insane and the insane are the normal?”

But I think that is too simplistic. Because this is in the end a very traditional love story in terms of discovering one’s selfishness and learning to love the person who cares for you, not the fantasy you’ve created of someone else. It is about facing reality and giving up false pictures of the world in our minds. It does have that element of showing how some of the people in the “normal world,” like Pat’s OCD gambling father, and his doting mother, and best friend and wife are as mentally screwed up or unhappy as any inmate. It also shows a certain insanity that is a part of sports fans (“Fan-atics”). The family’s father is an Eagles fan who has superstitious religious like behavior he lives out in his devotion. But that craziness is also on display in many fans who paint themselves up and get in fights at the sports arena without reason – just like the neurosis and explosions in the asylum. Let’s be honest, there really are things in “normal life” that are acceptable, but are in fact crazy.

And here is what I like about that. There is an element of honesty in Pat and his love interest, Tiffany, that is not in the “normal” people around them. Their frankness, their lack of social filters in saying inappropriate, but truthful statements in public, their open misery and inability to play the game of being happy or normal when they are not, are all reflections of an honesty of facing their flaws that is the beginning of a fully human life.

I could not help but see this movie as a metaphor for Christian faith – not the movie’s intent, but in my own triggered thoughts. I believe that the more one gets closer to God, the more one sees how bad in our soul we really are. How inherently selfish, but in clever secret ways that make us look “normal.” It’s like the closer you get to God, the more screwed up you see that you are, and the less willing you are to try to deny it, so the more honest you become in confessing it. But also, the more vulnerable and trusting in God that you are because you consider yourself more and more helpless and unable to be that “good person” that everyone aspires to be, but no one truly is. This does lead to some changed behavior of course, but it does not get rid of the “diagnosis.”

And that looks crazy to the world. To the world, that’s low self-esteem, that’s neurotic negativity or “fear religion” or “worm theology.” They think that it hampers our human potential. I mean, after all, if a religion is healthy, it should result in us seeing ourselves as basically good, which would make us become better people with positive thoughts, right?

Wrong. The belief in humanity’s inherent goodness is the delusion of the “normal world” with all its facades and games of cover up. This unwillingness to face the truth is the worst sort of dishonesty, it’s lying to ourselves and it is the true insanity. It creates the very self-righteousness that such people accuse Christians of being. It is not the Christian who sees himself as increasingly sinful before a holy God that is crazy and self-righteous, it is the fool who nestles in his normality of innate human goodness.

Before you can live fully human you must face the tragic honest reality that everybody’s “mentally ill.”

The Life of Pi

Visually stunning, spiritually confusing. The Life of Pi is the story of Pi, a young Indian boy whose family owns a zoo in India. Because of political troubles in the country, the father puts his family and animals on a ship to Canada with the hopes to sell the animals to America and start their life over. Unfortunately, the ship sinks in a perfect storm and only Pi survives in a life boat – with a Bengal tiger.

Well, the movie is really so much more than that. Because you see, it begins with Pi as an older thirtysomething telling his story to a writer. And he explains in the very beginning that this is a story that will help him to find God. So that is the stated purpose of the story right from the start. We see Pi as a young boy who is curiously spiritual. His father is a secular humanist who lost any faith when western medicine cured his polio instead of his gods doing so. Pi’s mother remains a Hindu who believes in millions of gods. So there is that unity of opposites set up to contrast the extremes fighting for the soul of the boy. Atheism versus religion. Reason versus Revelation. We see Pi as a young boy explaining how he was raised as a Hindu but then found Jesus Christ. Yes, he explains how a Catholic priest led him to realize that Jesus Christ died for his sins and faith in Jesus atoned for his sins (In a church as full of icons and statues of deity as any Hindu temple). Pretty plain and clear.

Only there’s just one more thing. Pi THEN discovers Islam and becomes a Muslim, citing “Allahu Akbar” (a phrase that if one hears today, one should dive for cover). It’s as if he is “trying out” every religion in his spiritual quest. He is teased for being a Hindu Christian Muslim and eventually a Jew too as he teaches Kabbala at the university. From then on, it’s always a generic reference to “god,” Except once when we see Pi pray to the Hindu deity Vishnu for providing himself as a life giving fish on the stranded lifeboat. So he remains a polytheist. In essence this is a story of multiculturalism, or the attempt to show the legitimacy of all religious narratives as a part of the truth, much like the story of the blind men and the elephant.

The theological underpinnings of multiculturalism is polytheism. That is, all roads to lead to god or the gods or the goddesses, or whatever “non-offensive” term you use of your deity or your ultimate or your whatever. One cannot propose that one’s own religion is superior to others because they are all “masks of god,” and to suggest one religion is true and the others are false is religious imperialism. This is why relativism is the epistemology, and often ontology, of multiculturalism. The only absolute is that there are no absolutes. It is not hard to see the self-refuting nature of such ludicrous ideas but many still hold to the fairy tale of relativism in today’s pomo culture that seeks to intolerantly oppress all absolute worldviews in the name of tolerance. Well, really mostly only the oppression of the Judeo-Christian worldview because for some reason multiculturalists seem to be often anti-Semitic and anti-Christian and to protect Muslim absolutism because it is an arch-enemy of Judeo-Christianity (the enemy of my enemy and all that). Which is ironic, since Multiculturalists are among the first to be eliminated under Sharia law, along with their compatriots: Feminists, homosexuals, atheists, and intellectuals. But that is another story.

So the entire story is like Castaway on the ocean, but with a young kid, a tiger, and as it turns out, a wounded zebra, a hyena and an orangutan. One by one, they die and the kid is left alone with this tiger, who rules the boat and forces the kid to live on a little raft he put together tied to the boat a safe distance away. This is kind of a parable about man and nature as the boy learns to live and let live with the tiger, helping each other to survive. It’s all part of the current “spirit of the age” or zeitgeist of environmentalism and animal rights. It’s a dominant theme in Hollywood from Avatar to the Lorax to the upcoming Noah and a multitude of corporate conspiracies: Man must learn to coexist with nature in a symbiotic relationship. Okay, I’m all for animal movies, and I love “dogs are people too” stories just as much as the next guy. Anthropomorphising animals is in our souls (more on that in a second). But let’s not be stupid. The Romantic notion that harmony can be found by man submitting to the chaos of nature is pure foolishness. The best movie that operates as a parable that depicts this foolishness and its consequences in reality is Grizzly Man which is a true story about the fool who thought he was the protector of the Grizzlies in Alaska, only to be eaten by one. Nature is to be tamed by man through technology and conservation and planned administration. That was the point of Genesis in tending the garden, and of being given “dominion over nature” and the command by God to “subdue it.” Because nature is unruly and man is the one who can harness it for good through application of his control over it. This does not justify pollution or criminal negligence of the environment (It never did), but neither does it justify the pagan idolatry of the earth that seeks to place man as a servant of the earth rather than the earth as a servant of man.

But maybe the movie is hinting at this same point.

At the very end of the story, we discover that Pi’s story was not believed by the insurance adjusters who sought the reason for the ship sinking. They could never find out why it did sink, but they pushed Pi into telling them a story that was not so unbelievable that they could use for their insurance claims. Finally, Pi then tells the story of himself and several other human survivors on his boat, his wounded mother, a couple others and a mean ship’s cook who ended up killing the other dying survivors. And then we learn that maybe, just maybe, the animal story was an allegory of what really happened and that Pi told the story with animals because the reality was too painful to face. Each of the animals represented different people who survived on the lifeboat. We never really know for sure if that is the case, but Pi concludes by asking the writer, and us, “Which story is the better story?” The animals of course. And then he says, “Now you understand God” or something to that effect. So, I see this movie saying that stories about God are the way that we “cover” the harshness of reality for us to be able to survive with hope in a brutal world.

But I think the claim is equally applicable toward the secularist or materialist. I think that the materialist paradigm is used to construct naturalist narratives of explaining away spiritual reality in order to salve the guilty consciences of people into thinking that they are not ultimately responsible before their Creator for their actions. The depravity of mankind is so thoroughly a part of who we are that we deceive ourselves to avoid accepting moral responsibility. The guilty are always looking for loopholes and telling stories that justify themselves. But I would certainly agree that the harsh reality of life dominated by suffering is hard to understand in a universe created by God. It’s one of the dominant themes of all my storytelling as well (It’s the meta-theme of my Chronicles of the Nephilim saga). Jesus used parables (and so did the Prophets) to conceal from the hard-hearted, but to reveal to the open-hearted, because God’s Kingdom could best be understood by finite fallen humanity by way of imaginative analogy. It’s not that we “mythologize” this life to avoid harsh reality, but rather that we need imagination to understand ultimate reality that is beyond this suffering life and our comprehension of it. I write about this in my new book, Myth Became Fact: Storytelling, Imagination and Apologetics in the Bible.

But there is another side to this story. Remember the kid’s father? The secular humanist? Well, he taught Pi a lesson one day to show him that nature is not man’s friend. Pi thought to give a chunk of meat to befriend the Bengal tiger in the zoo. The tiger appeared to be cautiously ready to receive the meat from the boy’s hands through the cage bars. But his father pulled him away before anything could happen. Then he showed the boy a live goat at the cage entrance and how the tiger grabbed the goat and killed it and ate it. So his point was that we are deluded to see ourselves in the reflections of the eyes of the animals. Anthropomorphism is a self-delusion. Nature is red in tooth and claw. So the anti-anthropomorphism of the father was internalized in the boy when he recast the lifeboat human scenario as animals. In other words, maybe the delusion lies in thinking man is superior to the animals. Pi does reverse anthropomorphism because the humans had acted more like animals than the other way around.

So this is a complex narrative about how we tell our stories to understand what is incomprehensible to us. On the one hand, I detest the modern/postmodern rejection of reality as a mere construct of fiction storytelling, yet, I certainly agree that reality cannot be fully accessed through empirical senses and “brute” experience or “raw facts.” Ain’t no such things. And “meaning” transcends observation. God transcends observation and is understood through story (after all, the Bible is a metanarrative embodied in a collection of narratives about God at work in his people). But The Life of Pi seemed to say that the story is more important than “what really happened,” which has a ring of manipulation to it. After all, all manner of evil has been perpetrated by false narratives (The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, Das Capital, etc.). For Christians, the claim of atonement for sins is based on a historically factual resurrection from the dead by Jesus Christ. If his resurrection was “just a story” and did not really happen, then we are still dead in our sins. However, a bodily resurrection without the narrative of Israel’s Messiah behind it means nothing. It is a mere scientific oddity.

So I certainly agree that we access meaning through the story, not through mere empirical or rational accuracy. And therein lies the movie’s thoughtful challenge. It is not so much the nature of fiction in our storytelling that would concern me about The Life of Pi as it is its polytheism and relativism related to God. It’s the god talk that has problems, not the story talk. After all, most storytellers tell stories about reality that are clothed in fictional terms because to express them outright would cause hostility from the blind prejudices of the audience. Explaining hard reality in other terms that an audience can relate to is a universal storytelling axiom. In the end, affirming a contradictory polytheism is a spiritually detrimental worldview to be communicating through that fiction.

But boy, does The Life of Pi make you think. And I like that.