The Hurt Locker

Three entries in one day! I know! And this one will probably be pretty weak, given that I'm feeling a bit pooped. But I felt like I couldn't not mention The Hurt Locker, which is really a fantastic movie, destined to be a classic.

The film follows a bomb squad in Iraq. There's a kind of overarching narrative that revolves around a bomb specialist, but it's not overbearing - the movie is more episodic in nature, showing a series of day in the life of the characters. There are three main guys that the movie is focused on, but also a cast of surprisingly well defined minor characters. It's a really subtle, well done film, with the various characters contrasting with each other in really fascinating ways. It's through the characters, and their interactions, that the movie investigates the nature of modern warfare, the clash of cultures, and the meaning of heroism. I was really impressed by Jarhead (the book, rather than the movie, though that was aight) for the way in which it reflected on what being in war, and the training to go there, does to people, but I have to say, this movie does it in a much more interesting way. Finally, the film's eye for detail is incredible, and the cinematography is poignant. It's a really, really good movie.

P.S. I am, by the way, totally fascinated by Kathryn Bigelow, the director. She is also responsible for K-19: The Widowmaker, which I believe is the most expensive film ever made by a female director, Strange Days (added to the Netflix queue), Blue Steel, and Point Break. If that doesn't intrigue you, then, well, you're very different from me. I would love to know more about her - I've looked around for interviews, and this one is kind of interesting, but very short. Not that I have any idea what I'd like to ask her, and I suppose she sort of speaks for herself through her films, but yeah, I wanna hear more of what she has to say.

The Whereabouts of Eneas McNulty, by Sebastian Barry

This is the first Sebastian Barry book I've read, but I must say, his prose is wonderful. Sparkling, lively, evocative, lots of wonderful descriptions, and generally quite entertaining.

The content doesn't quite live up to the style, I think. Or maybe I'm just being snippy, I dunno. But I almost want to say that there's something too lighthearted and good-natured about the book. Even when it's describing something utterly horrific, it's strangely cheerful.

Also, the book treats history and politics with a rather broad stroke. There's a real underlying bitterness about the violence of the IRA and the coercive nature of nationalism that is perhaps not unwarranted, but it stridently ignores the other side of the story. I suppose maybe that's a worthwhile aspect, to give the other (Irish) side of the story, but I couldn't help but feel a touch irked by it. Nonetheless, it does cover an interesting portion of history, and draws a vague though intriguing parallel between Irish and Nigerian liberation movements. I suppose its pessimism is a valiant corrective to the normal postcolonial ebullience.

Anyways, politics aside, as a story, it's entertaining and sympathetic. I'm not in a huge rush to read another Barry novel (I've got Long Way Home on my to-read shelf) but I did really enjoy the descriptive passages, especially the ones about sex. There's something wonderfully vibrant about the words he uses to describe things, it's really lovely.

Political Readings

Perhaps you have seen this article in the BBC about Venezuela's Revolutionary Reading Program, instituted by Huge Chavez as part of a larger project to instill socialist and humanistic values in the masses? Personally, I think it's a really neat idea, a government book club. I think it would perhaps be even more effective if it were combined with something like Book It! Corporate sponsored socialist consciousness raising! What an idea! Seriously though, I think it would be fabulous if the US government put out a list (and perhaps also distributed free copies) of books they think everyone ought to read. Then I realized that I guess this is kind of what, you know, high school government classes are for. But those, I think, mostly focus on history? I was in Germany that year of high school, so I dunno.

Anyhow, I was quite upset to discover that the Venezuelan list is nowhere to be found online - how am I supposed to become a Revolutionary Reader if I can't access the syllabus? But I have, in the meantime, been amusing myself by contemplating what books I would encourage every American citizen to read. One that comes to mind is Whiteness of a Different Color, by Matthew Frye Jacobson; or at least excerpts from it. I think it'd be nice, particularly given American obesity and junk food culture, if everyone read Fast Food Nation, by Eric Schlosser and The Omnivore's Dilemma, by Michael Pollan, but I guess those aren't as necessary. It's a nice thought experiment, anyhow.

Meanwhile, my friend James just sent me a link to a list of books that Obama has been sighted reading. I haven't read any of them, actually. I personally can't stand Dave Eggers, so I was surprised to see that one on there. Walcott is wonderful. The rest seem to all be non-fiction - I'm most curious abaout the Zakaria book. I read an interview with him in Playboy awhile ago, he seemed like a really smart guy.

Anyhow, fun stuff. People are so obsessed with role models for the youth and all that - I think that actually, role models are especially important in creating future readers.

Pather Panchali

My friend Dustin summed up this film pretty well - it's powerful but devastating, one misery after another but so well made that you feel genuinely present, totally absorbed in the story. There's something about the way it's shot, I think, and the sparse, unaffected story telling style, that makes it seem sort of simple and everyday, despite the fact that for the most part, the everyday isn't exactly a barrel of laughs.

Daimons, by Nina FitzPatrick

The final collaboration between Nina Witoszek and Pat Sheeran is a charming, hilarious novel, a wonderful send-up of Irish culture and society. It's sparkling, witty, and quite amusing, characterized by the same sort of humor that one finds in their other books, Fables of the Irish Intelligentsia and The Loves of Faustyna; in other words, a kind of raunchy enjoyment of well worn cliche.

The Polish-Irish aspect is in some ways most visible in this book. You could sort of see it in Fables, which were stories of Irish life, and Faustyna, whose titular protagonist was a Polish woman, but in this novel it's more curious, in that it's set wholly in Ireland, yet there are occasional, often unexplained references to Polish things.

Of course, there are also great references to Irish stuff - I particularly relished seeing Declan Kiberd get namechecked - and really, the book is a very smart take on Irish culture overall, I'd say. In particular, it raises some really nice points about society's relationship to (and commodification of) the past in amusing ways. It's also a nice satire of the West of Ireland overall.

But that's sort of beside the point. As a novel, it has to be admitted, it's not perfect. It definitely loses steam towards the end, and generally, the sprawling cast of characters is a bit more than is manageable, but nonetheless, it's a charming, entertaining book. Not the best Nina Fitzpatrick work - I think that honor goes to Fables - but great fun in any case.

Sita Sings the Blues

I'll be teaching the Mahabarata to freshmen in the fall, so I figured I'd start gearing up by checking out this movie, which I missed when it was playing last year. Sita Sings the Blues is an animated feature that combines a retelling of the Ramayana with the story of the director's (Nina Paley) divorce. A curious idea, and the end result is worth watching, if somewhat disappointing.

First, the good part - the Ramayana portion is pretty delightful. Irreverent, certainly, but charming and quite clever. It's narrated by three characters who also provide a running commentary ("And then it turned out she was pregnant. Maybe they joined the Mile High Club?" "So what, she's just a bloodthirsty woman?") which is really well done, a very intelligent take on the text. It's also accompanied by a wonderful soundtrack of old jazzy blues songs by Annette Hanshaw that are just terrific. FYI - you can buy Ms. Hanshaw's complete best of, 47 (!) tracks, for only $9.99. I'm downloading them as I type this. So, yeah, Ramayana - lovely. Lots of fun.

The problem with the movie is the "parallel" story, that of the director's divorce. First off, there's not much there - to summarize, she and her husband are apparently madly in love. He gets a 6 month job in India, and he seems to grow a bit distant, metaphorically speaking. She comes to India, and he is quite clearly distant (this is conveyed, however, in just one scene of her in a bra and panties in bed, and him going to sleep instead of making love to her). She flies to New York for a meeting, and receives an email from him telling her not to come back. She is very sad. Very very sad. Then she starts reading Ramayana. End of movie. Seriously. It's actually even sparser than I'm making it sound. So, I guess there's sort of a parallel to Ramayana, in that Sita ultimately tells Rama to take a leap because she's tired of his bullshit, but that's a pretty weak parallel. Then, there's the fact that her husband was in India, so I guess that's kind of a link. But really, it seems like the point is, Ms. Paley read Ramayana while all this stuff was happening, and probably related to it on some kind of deep level, such that she decided to make a movie of it, and then she figured she'd keep the part about her relating to it in the movie.

Now, I don't want to be harsh about this, but here's the thing - either give me a solid reason why I should find your story as compelling as the Ramayana, show me how your own personal experience with the text illuminates it and brings out meanings that simply reading it on its own wouldn't, or - leave your story out. I'm sure it was a very difficult time for you. I imagine working on this film was a comfort. But putting in the story of your marriage ending comes across as pretty self-indulgent. Sorry.

Meanwhile though, as a cartoon version of the Ramayana - it's a lovely film. Worth checking out.

Dead Snow

An unrepentantly goofy, gory, and utterly delightful zombie flick.

I honestly don't have all that much to say about this movie other than that it was a blast. Nazi zombies! In the snow! Nonsensical plot! Very funny stuff!

The two movies that come to mind as related to this one are The Descent, for the nature element - although Dead Snow doesn't do as much with it, there is an avalanche scene that could have been pushed a lot further. It seems curious to me to have a zombie movie that simultaneously pits the protagonists against nature itself. It kind of highlights the strange non-naturalness of zombies, not to mention the fact that really, nature is way more badass than any monster. Though I guess the humans do triumph over it, sort of.

It also sort of makes one think of Shaun of the Dead, mostly for the whole zombie movie that self-consciously references zombie movies aspect. This is actually something that bears thinking about, in that it seems increasingly common. Is this the sign of a genre dying out, that it becomes a kind of accumulation of references while still repeating the same old tricks? Or is it a sign of its perseverance, an impressive registering of a long noble heritage, and the fact that even though the audience pretty much knows exactly what's gonna happen from the get-go, it's still enjoyable to watch? Has fright simply transmogrified into new forms? Are we more afraid of terrorists than monsters?

Actually, there's another interesting point there, in that some would say that it's old school American horror that's died out, whereas Japanese horror, for instance, is going strong (or at least it was a few years ago - the fad seems to have passed now). So it's interesting that this movie is a clear throwback to American cinema - especially given that it's apparently one of the first Norwegian horror flicks, a rare specimen.

Oh - one weird aspect of Dead Snow is its obsession with poop. There's a big focus on intestines. And there's an outhouse scene that's just gross. Is this its bold, original take? Zombie film - now with Nazis and poop!

Anyhow. Entertaining movie.