Which isn't to say it's a bad movie, because it's excellent, maybe even great--original, innovative, riveting, heartbreaking, unforgettable. Many had feared that the film would be exploitative, but "United 93" is exactly the opposite of that. In telling the story of the fourth plane on Sept. 11--the one that crashed as the passengers attempted to retake it from the hijackers--the filmmakers do away with all Hollywood conventions and opt for a documentary-style reenactment. We don't see the characters' back stories or their surviving relatives; no husbands kissing their wives good-bye for the last time, no lucky latecomer who just missed the flight, no orphans remembering their lost mom. Nothing, in fact, that we'd expect from a disaster-of-the-week film.
Instead, director Paul Greengrass tells the story in real-time, from just before takeoff to its tragic crash in a Pennsylvania field, jumping back and forth between the goings-on inside the airplane, the confusion among air-traffic controllers, and the too-little, too-late efforts by the military to retake American airways. Even the passengers' rebellion against the terrorists is presented without adornment, not as some sort of macho militaristic battle, but as what it was: The last desperate, heartbreaking attempt by a group of doomed people to take control of their fate.
Watching "United 93" was truly like re-experiencing Sept. 11. My heart started pounding the minute the plane's doors closed, and it didn't stop until after I returned to my office when it was over. Yes, this movie is a respectful, fitting memorial to the deceased heroes who fought back and prevented their flight from destroying the Capitol or another Washington building. Yes, I learned a lot about what these passengers must have went through, and gained some insight into how the air-traffic controllers and military officers reacted--sometimes as heroes, sometimes as bumblers, sometimes as both at once--to an unprecedented situation.
But is all of that a good thing? Do we want to go to the movies to re-experience the greatest American trauma of our time? Not me. Don't get me wrong; I am not someone who thinks all movies need to be happy, and I believe that film plays an important role in how we as a society talk about and work through important issues. But I don't see how this particular film furthers that conversation; it's certainly well intentioned and very well made, but it ultimately fails to go deeper than the surface. And we've all experienced that surface--in endless news coverage and in our own horrific memories--too much already. I can understand showing this movie at the planned United 93 memorial or at Sept. 11 memorial commemorations. But as one of the choices at your local multiplex, it's hard for me to understand why people would choose to bring themselves back so viscerally to that traumatic day--or what they'd get out of it.
A Jewish comedian claimed not long ago that he grew up thinking that all the comic-book superheroes were Jewish, because, like, say, Goldman and Federrman, all their names end in “man”: Spiderman, Batman, Superman...
A report on MSNBC this week examined more seriously the topic of religion in comics, which are growing more concerned with faith, according to the story. The American superhero’s origin in Judaism have been explored, both in fact (click here for an essay on Superman and the Golem) and fiction, most famously in Michael Chabon’s Pulitzer Prize winning novel, “The Adventures of Kavalier and Klay.” MSNBC’s reporter interviews several academics who point out the growing interest comic-book writers have taken in religion, to gratify an their audience that is increasingly adult, and, like the country as a whole, increasingly religious.
The theme pops up too on Progressive U., a national student blog, in an interesting essay about the essential religious nature of comics. The author portrays comics as modern pop mythologies—you know, the boogie-man stories equivalent to cave paintings that we flatter ourselves our society doesn’t indulge in anymore. Comic books, the essay claims, allows us to feel awe—mostly concocted but sometimes taking a share of reality, as in the nearly wordless 9/11 installment of “The Amazing Spiderman.”
For the record, with due respect to my Jewish brothers and sisters, Batman was an Episcopalian, and Superman a Methodist, as you can read here.
Tom Cruise fans—those who read the gossip mags these days with paper bags over their heads—must wonder, Why does Tom do it? Why pounce on Oprah’s sofa? Why pooh-pooh post-partum depression? Why placenta? Why does he insist on announcing that the birth of his child was “very spiritual”?
Okay, the last of these is the least of his recent embarassments, but it’s one that rallied me to Cruise’s defense. I had a twinge when the prankster squirted Tom in the face with a water gun shaped like a microphone, but I tilted when Tom’s claim about "spiritual" childbirth popped up in nearly every headline about his post-partum chat with ABC’s “20/20”; the media is either proud of Tom’s perceptive description of watching childbirth or wants his comment entered as another data point that he’s gone off his nut. I suspect the latter.
Since his cringe-inducing performance on "Oprah," we’re all to understand that Tom has taken permanent leave of his senses or is intolerably self-obsessed. “Is there any experience that isn’t totally intense and utterly incredible with this man?” wrote one columnist. Isn’t that, though, just about the best definition available of “spiritual”? The same question, asked about the Dalai Lama, would come off as praise.
Similarly, instead of using Oprah’s sofa as a trampoline, should Tom have mewled that Kat is his best friend? Okay, Tom could tone down the kooky pseudo-psychiatry and lay off the placenta. Or better yet, take some acting roles that measure up to his “private” weirdness. Artists are supposed to revolt us, challenge us, be rash and generally be in the vanguard. So I say, Take pride, Tom fans. You have nothing to lose but your bags.
Last night I attended the most violent concert I've ever been to—and believe me, I've been to a lot of them. The thing is, this one was a Christian show.
I've wanted to see the rock-rap-reggae band P.O.D. live for a long time. They're one of the best mainstream acts around and it just so happens they're Christians. Not the in-your-face kind, though—and, like so many other artists of faith out there, they don't like to be classified as a "Christian" band. They're a band whose members happen to be Christian, and who promote positive messages about life and love and God in their music, without inserting "Jesus" into every chorus.
Before the show—at the Nokia Theater in New York City--I waited on the open floor close to the stage for the first of three opening acts. I relaxed, and anticipated the night would be full of good, loud music I could dance and bop my head to. It didn't exactly go that way.
The first act, Maylene and the Sons of Disaster, a Christian hardcore metal band, approached the stage and immediately launched into their first song—screaming and thrashing about. As I strained to hear the music, I felt a punch to my back. I turned around, and a huge mosh pit had formed behind me. That's cool, I thought, I could deal with it. I grew up during the grunge era and have been to a lot of shows where pits opened up. No biggie. I'd just try to move away to another spot on the floor.
Then, it happened. Instantly, the pit transformed from a lively group of people jumping around and dancing erratically to a dangerous circle of violence and aggression. The group, at this point about 10-15 people, mainly guys, began punching and kicking everyone on the edges of the circle. I am familiar with this wild, aggressive "slam dancing," but would never expect it at "Christian show." Besides, there are certain unwritten rules to participating in a mosh pit--namely, no punching or kicking, especially people outside of the pit.
I was pushed to another side of the dance floor, along with my friend who'd accompanied me to the show. I found a "safe" spot, away from the mayhem, and tried to get back into the music. It was kind of difficult to though, since the drummer constantly threw drumsticks into the crowd, and not once, but twice, almost poked in the eye. The lead singer also thought it was Christianly to spit into the crowd at least five times per song.
The next band, The Chariot--which has been described as Christian southern metalcore (I don't make up the genre names, people)--had a similar sound to Sons of Disaster, though with an interesting country sound. Another mosh pit quickly opened behind me. I didn't know about it until a tall teenage boy went flying into me, kicking me in the back of the head. I've never been kicked in the head at a mainstream concert, and here I was, getting beat up at a Christian show. Would Jesus would go for this kind of behavior? If he does, I certainly didn't get that memo.
As I tried to move away from the new pit, I glanced toward the stage to see the lead singer using the microphone stand as a sword, pretending to chop the heads off some of the people in the front of the stage.
Pillar, a hard-rock band composed of Christians came on next. (In an interview with Beliefnet last year, singer Rob Beckley objected to the label "Christian band," calling it "stupid," adding, "The Beastie Boys aren't Buddhist hip-hop"). At this point in the show, a big smoke cloud filled the air. Kids everywhere were smoking pot. "At least this will calm them down," I thought.
Oh, was I was wrong.
A fight broke out toward the end of Pillar's set, but luckily I was out of harm's way
. However, I didn't get to enjoy the rest of the performance as much as I would have liked to, because I was constantly watching my back to make sure I wasn't punched or maimed. Overall though, Pillar put on a great show, singing some new material off their upcoming album, as well as old favorites like, "Bring Me Down."
Finally, P.O.D. came on, and they were every bit as wonderful as I imagined they'd be. Although plagued by some technical difficulties, the band was composed and polite and got the entire crowd singing many of their hits, including "Will You," "Boom," and "Youth of the Nation." It was a stellar performance, which coupled a great selection of hits with lead singer Sonny Sandoval's visable passion for the music he was singing.
At one point, Sandoval threw water into the crowd--something common at many hard rock shows where the audience gets hot and sticky. Although I had seen this many times before, it took on a new meaning at this show. It was if Sonny was baptizing the crowd, not into his religion, but into his music. It was very touching to see this. It almost made up for an entire night of being battered and bruised by an unruly crowd.
May is about here and with it comes the kickoff of the summer movie season, which looks like it will be far different than last summer, when May's bombs and semi-bombs included “Kingdom of Heaven,” “Monster-in-Law,” and “Kicking and Screaming,” all landing with a box office thud that lasted all summer long.
It looks like the studios are making up for it this year, kicking off with “Mission: Impossible III” this weekend, followed by “Poseidon” on May 12, “The Da Vinci Code” on May 19, and “X-Men: The Last Stand” on May 26. I hope they’re good, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to notice that they’re certainly safe, at least for the studios. “M-I 3” and “X-Men” are sequels, “Poseidon” is a remake, and “Da Vinci” is the screen version of the book that’s been a best seller for what seems like a thousand weeks.
The trend will continue throughout the summer with sequels and remakes, including another Superman reincarnation in “Superman Returns,” another Johnny Depp turn in “Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest,” a modern version of “The Man Who Came to Dinner” called “You, Me and Dupree, ” a big-screen “Miami Vice,” and “Garfield’s A Tale of Two Kittens.”
In the business of movies, these are as much franchises as they are films, which is good for business and hopefully entertaining for us. But I don't expect too much new to be said for the spiritual person looking to learn and reflect on life through art, as franchise films can't really risk saying too much. That's a shame, and I hope there's room in the market for films which still try and say something. A franchise which did that would be even more welcome, at least by me.
One of the reasons Fox’s “House” receives so much critical acclaim is because even when this medical drama tackles a topic that has been done to death on other TV shows, it finds a way to present an old story with a new twist. Last night’s episode, “House vs. God” is a perfect example: The cranky, bitter doctor treats a patient who claims he is a faith healer who receives messages directly from God.
However, instead of making a mockery of this boy as a misguided religious fanatic--which would be the strategy most shows employ--"House" cleverly centered on the doctors' responses to the teenage boy, addressing the question of belief in a supreme being from a variety of viewpoints.
After the boy believes he has healed another patient in the ward, and the patient begins to show progress, House's staff become fascinated with the possibility that they may have witnessed a miracle. House, intent on proving that his patient is no miracle worker, responds by barking such comments as, “There is nothing in this universe that cannot be explained," and, “If God talks to you, you are either a scam artist or psychotic.” His co-workers confront House’s doubt in a divine being by offering such reflections as, “If a higher power exists, it is different than our minds as a species can conceive," and, “Some people's faith is more than symbolic.”
Better yet, his friend, the oncologist Dr. Wilson, explains why House refuses to acknowledge God: “A supreme being can squash you. You hate not being in control. That's why religion bugs you.” Ouch. That hit a little too close to home for the Vicodin-popping Gregory House.
After an hour of twists and turns, featuring some of the best spiritual debate I have seen in a TV drama in ages, came the conclusion, in which the boy is discovered to have an outbreak of herpes from a sexual encounter. A frustrating end? Not for me. The conclusion of the episode finds all of House’s co-workers confronting the doctor's smugness at the fact that he uncovered a fraud; they make clear they've retained their faith in spite of all that occurred. As Wilson tells his buddy House, “It’s possible to believe in something and still not live up to it.”
Better yet, Wilson follows up that statement by reminding his skeptical buddy, “House, you are as God made you.”
Kudos to Walden Media on its lengthy profile in this week's Entertainment Weekly. Though not (yet) a household name, Walden is the company behind "The Chronicles of Narnia" movie, as well as "Holes," "Because of Winn-Dixie," and the upcoming "Hoot" and "Charlotte's Web." EW, the arbiter of all things hip in Hollywood, offers a detailed look at the phenomenal success of this young company--a success, as the magazine says, that is "fueled by its exclusive focus on Hollywood's least sexy genre: the family film." Yes, the much-maligned, oft-mocked family flick is enjoying its moment in the sun. Founded by two old friends, Walden's strategy seems so simple that you (or at least I) would have assumed it'd been done by a million others before them: Ask children's librarians and teachers what books they'd recommend, and then make high-quality films from those books. Done and done.
Paul Sharrat had no luck contacting the late Princess Diana three years ago in a televised séance—well, no luck in the sense that Di refused to speak for the cameras. Sharrat did make some $7 million from viewers willing to pony up a $14.95 pay-per-view fee. That kind of luck encouraged Sharrat to try again. Last night, psychics gathered at John Lennon’s favorite New York restaurant in an attempt to reach out to the former Beatle, as cameras focused on the Strawberry Fields memorial in Manhattan’s Central Park and other Lennon sites.
One participant says he has “no doubt” he heard Lennon break through on one participant’s microphone to call for world peace. Using the phenomenon the psychics call Electronic Voice Phenomenon (EVP), Lennon said, “Peace. The message is peace,” the psychics claim.
Maybe, as he did in life, Lennon was asking to be left in peace. Lennon himself once told Newsweek magazine that he and wife Yoko Ono had tried to communicate with the dead via séance, but today Yoko’s spokesman called the show “tacky.” Sharrat, who calls himself a “dyed-in-the-wool skeptic by nature” declared himself “amazed”—perhaps that Lennon would show for only 9.95 per viewer when Di demurred at $14.95.
You may not think of yourself as a rebel, but if you’re watching TV this week, you’re working against the efforts of Robert Kesten and his team at the TV-Turnoff Network, a Washington, D.C.-based nonprofit that's behind “Turn Off Your TV Week,” which is going on this week. Citing stats and quotes from a wide array of sources, the organization encourages parents to restrict television viewing for their kids, citing research that television is responsible for everything from child obesity to limiting intelligence potential.
The movement has won support and the endorsement of dozens of powerful organizations, such as the American Medical Association, National Education Association, National Medical Association, and literacy groups such as Reading Is Fundamental.
T.S. Eliot, poet and author, once opined, “The remarkable thing about television is that it permits several million people to laugh at the same joke and still feel lonely.”
From the floor of the Senate, these words rang out: “They have certainly won my support and my hearty endorsement. Hallelujah! Turn off that TV... I do want to emphatically stress that there is much more to life than the boring, degrading, demeaning fare on the boob tube. I urge the American people to use this week to break your addiction to television. Just say no! As the TV-Turnoff Network urges, 'Turn off TV, turn on life.'” –Senator Byrd, D-West Virginia.
The movement has also garnered support from those who’ve profited from the dreaded TV, including CNN/TBS’s Ted Turner, who once said, “TV is the single most significant factor contributing to violence in America.”
Perhaps you’re concerned that American children may spend more time in front of the television than in school this year. Perhaps it strikes you as odd that 40% of Americans regularly watch television during dinner. Perhaps you’d like to reflect more about this…
…but “24” is coming on, then the Clippers, the news, Leno, Conan. I gotta go. Tomorrow comes early!
Can lifelong friendships be torn apart by money when some of your friends have lots of it but others don’t? Are the age old proverbs "Money is the root of all evil" and "Money can’t buy happiness" actually true? Jennifer Aniston’s latest movie, “Friends With Money”--if you believe all the commercials and reviews out there--is supposed to ask those exact questions. The movie follows the lives of four women in Los Angeles who navigate their relationships with each other, with the men in their lives, and with money. Olivia ( Aniston) is a former schoolteacher who smokes pot, dates the wrong men, and scrubs people’s toilets for a living, while her three best friends all have successful careers, affluent lifestyles, and--on the surface--happy families. The movie is slightly unpredictable--the humor comes out of the most unlikely moments--and there are some brilliant performances to be enjoyed ( Frances Mc Dormand in particular), yet in many ways, “Friends with Money” doesn’t quite, well, pay off in the end.
While watching these four women talk... and talk... and talk... about how unhappy they are, I slowly began to realize that “Friends With Money” is not about money at all. Not really. The root of their unhappiness--with jobs, with spouses, with themselves--is directly linked to the lies they have been telling themselves for years. Christine (Catherine Keener) lies to herself abut many things, including that her husband is a swell guy and that she and her husband’s lavish lifestyle in the form of a remodeling project is not impacting their neighbors' lives. Fashion designer Jane (McDormand) lies to herself about why she is depressed and hasn’t washed he hair in months , while her husband lies to himself about not really being gay. Meanwhile, Franny (Joan Cusack), who is the richest of the friends, lies to herself every time she doesn’t tell her husband that she thinks he is being too extravagant in the way he spends their money on their child.
And then there’s Olivia. She lies to herself by telling herself it’s easier, and better, to not care about anything.
By the end of the film, I wasn't quite sure what the director wanted me to take away from this story, because there was no real resolution to the plot. But I will say that in spite of the movie's flaws, I liked this examination of what causes the spiritual disconnect inside of ourselves. I just wish that sometimes Hollywood would realize that when it comes to storytelling, it is not always enough to raise important questions, but is also necessary to give some glimpses at some possible solutions as well.
For fans of "Crossing Jordan" (a CSI-meets-grown up-Nancy Drew weekly drama), the tantalizing question on Sunday night's episode was: Who Would Kill a Saint? A woman's body--wearing a silver cross--is discovered buried in a forest. As the crime-scene photographer leans in to take her photo, he suddenly steps back and makes the sign of the cross. In a surprising revelation, the photographer identifies the dead woman as a member of his church, a woman "touched by God" and possessing the gift of raising the dead to life.
As Jordan Cavanaugh investigates the murder, a motley crew of characters are introduced: (a) A teenage boy who "dies" after being hit by a car and who "comes back to life" 20 days after Isabel prays for him; (b) a Vatican priest with diplomatic immunity who is caught in Isabel's apartment looking for evidence of sainthood; and (c) an embittered father who questions his faith after his daughter dies.
Despite the religious premise, the writers of the rationale-centered show aimed to please the non-religious audience at the expense of the religious among us. In subtle twists, Isabel's "gift" and the Vatican priest's credibility are both chipped away. Crackpot theorist and forensics expert Nigel excitedly explains how the teen boy never really died (due to a combination of flat-fronted car impact and sub-zero weather)--only to discover the boy overhearing his theory and losing faith in Isabel. While the Vatican priest's investigation is noble, his motives are questioned when he is discovered having "broken" into Isabel's apartment in the middle of the night and rummaging for evidence in her underwear drawer. Nigel also questions whether the priest killed Isabel in order to make her a legend and propel the Vatican into national news.
While the embittered father's plotline is the most convincing, his pain most palpable, the discovery of his murderous crime cements the destruction of any religious audience's credibility. The religious are caricatured and stripped down: A boy of blind faith believes too readily in miracles and loses his faith at the first hint of science, a Vatican priest is questioned as being sneaky and evasive, and a father's rage is channeled into committing the ultimate sin of murder.
Science is exalted and ultimately overtakes faith, leaving it stale, clichéd, and unbelievable.
The most recent Gilmore Girls opened with Rory and Lane helping Mrs. Kim carry a large, golden Buddha into her house/antique shop. "Take down the crucifixes!" she hollered at Lane. This was all in preparation for Lane and Zach's traditional Buddhist home wedding.
What? Is the Chinese food at Jack's Pancake World polluting their brains? The Korean Kims are decidedly Christian, much to Lane's frequent chagrin and occasional pride. But as we soon learn, Lane's grandmother is coming to town and Mrs. Kim has never told her mother of her conversion. As Lane stuffs the crucifixes under the same loose floorboards that hide her Elvis Costello CDs, she marvels that at least two generations of Kim women have lives totally hidden from their hyper-critical, dogmatic mothers. When the eldest Kim arrives, dressed in a Mao-collared peasant dress, she fusses over Lane, speed-yells in Korean, and when Lane and Rory leave, mother and daughter lay down a towel and begin wildly prostrating in front of the Buddha.
Shocking stuff for those of us who have watched Mrs. Kim send Lane to Korean Bible camp, preach about values, and melt down when her daughter had male roommates. This thread continues when, after the short Buddhist ceremony (in which Lane and Zach wear elaborate traditional garb), grandma leaves abruptly in a cab and everyone else runs to the church for a second, Christian wedding. Minus the cringe-inducing moment just before the ceremony in which Mrs. Kim gravely warns a lace-covered Lane that she'll "have to do it," it's a sweet ceremony with a dove-and-rainbow banner hung behind the pastor.
Later, when Mrs. Kim apologizes for the double wedding, Lane says, sincerely, that it actually made the day more special. Back in his "silky" Buddhist wedding gown, Zach says, "This is so comfortable, no wonder Buddhists are so peaceful." Then Lane's notoriously fun-proof mom promises to go home and put in earplugs (hinting at a generational healing; don't-ask-don't-tell is a step from hiding under the floorboards), beginning the real, booze- and rock-fueled reception; Lorelei removes the long skirt on Lane's dress to reveal a tulle mini. Zach whoops, "My wife has legs!"
So does this continually well-written, funny, fast-talking show, with its respect, mockery, and deft narration of a surprisingly wide and subtle variety of realities and belief systems.
The best overall plot line for J.J. Abrams's "Alias" has always been the mysteries surrounding Milo Rimbaldi, the 15th century apocalyptic philosopher-inventor, which was Arvin Sloane's obsession for most of the first three seasons of the show and the cause of a good deal of espionage on the part of all the show's characters. The infamous Rimbaldi is the creator of a multitude of precious objects and puzzles that have taken Sydney and company on countless Indiana Jones-like journeys in an effort to beat out other tomb-raiders as they attempt to retrieve Rimbaldi artifacts the world over. And of course, most interestingly of all, Rimbaldi is the author of the cryptic prophetic texts that supposedly ensnare Sloane's daughter, Nadia Santos, Sidney Bristow, and possibly their mother Irina Derevko into their potentially catastrophic futuristic predictions.
Seasons four and five, unfortunately, dropped the Rimbaldi plot line for the most part, leaving the show without its original drive and the intensity of impending apocalyptic doom with Sidney at its heart. (Though the finale for season four was an all out sci-fi Rimbaldi related disaster a la Sloane who was back on the Rimbaldi wagon after having quit for a while.)
As Alias returned Wednesday night for its final episodes after a several months-long break (following the announcement it was being canceled), I hoped for a resurrection of Rimbaldi. Yet alas, it was still all Prophet Five (yet another anti-government conspiracy group that is after Sidney), with nary a mention of the longtime Rimbaldi mystery. The show's earlier advertisements promised a return of favorite characters Will and Irina, which was encouraging, and Wednesday night's episode indeed saw the return of Irina in full, ruthless, mama-agent glory, and as the mysterious leader of Prophet Five (could "prophet" refer to that prophet, as in that "Milo Rimbaldi Prophet"?).
I am holding out hope that as Irina is woven further back into the plot, we will also see a more explicit return of Mr. Rimbaldi, and ideally a resolution of what "The Prophecy" really has in store for Sidney Bristow once and for all (perhaps a Rimbaldi savior-like baby a la Sidney?). Only time will tell... and well, the last four episodes of the series itself.
In Wednesday night's "Invasion" episode, "Re-Evolution" (the first new episode aired in over a month), Everglades park ranger Russell Varon theorizes that the hybrids (humans crossed with aliens) beginning to overrun the once-quiet town of Homestead, Fla., are a new link in the evolutionary chain. Russell's speculation sparks brother Dave to wonder, albeit in a horrified manner, that if Russell's right, regular humans might become the contemporary version of the Neanderthal in comparison to the higher functioning hybrids.
Meanwhile, Father Scanlon (the priest who unwittingly turned hybrid) is stuck on the remote island where all bad hybrids go. He put about five bullets into Sheriff Underlay's chest after learning that Underlay lied to him about what it meant to be a hybrid. Underlay convinced Father Scanlon that their transformation was ordained by God, and when Scanlon learned it was really aliens who were behind his rebirth, he was a tad upset and worried that all hybrids--including himself--were devil's spawn. Hence the shooting.
But when Father Scanlon hears of Russell's evolution theory, he has an altogether different reaction than Dave. His response is almost relief, or gratitude--perhaps even a sense of sudden grace. He explains to Russell and Dave that just because he's a priest doesn't mean evolution is out for him. In fact, evolutionary theory as a way to understand his transformation may bring his belief back to the idea that his rebirth indeed was part of God's plan after all.
Mary Magdalene, the woman who according to some gospel accounts was one of the first followers of Jesus to encounter a risen Christ, has long been a much-debated biblical figure--and now she is about to become the star of her very own musical production. Though little information about Mary Magdalene's background is actually found in the Bible, the musical, simply titled "Magdalene" takes creative license and focuses on Mary as a young girl in love whose life is forever altered when she becomes the victim of a violent sex crime. Set to tour nationally in 2007, the show was originally produced last year in Nashville at Grace Chapel for a limited engagement
Though contemporary Christian musicians Chris Easton and Michelle Pillar composed the music for the show, this musical aspires to go beyond being a Christian evangelical production celebrating the life of another Biblical character. The musical’s producers have partnered with the International Justice Mission to raise audience awareness of the issue of women being sold into sexual slavery--often referred to as sex trafficking.
While we certainly see more and more evidence of spiritual and social issues intersecting on the big screen, we still don't see it happen nearly as often--much less with excellence--when it comes to theater. (New Yorkers, feel free to begin filling the comment box with proof to the contrary.... now.) So I am hoping that this musical will be a successful model for other similar productions--not to preach, but to thoughfully and creatively reflect on social issues and why they are also the spiritual matters of the soul.
It seems that fatherhood has brought out a devotion in Brad Pitt that transcends just sharing the same faux-hawk haircut with his adopted son, Maddox Jolie-Pitt.
Hello! Magazine reports that the Hollywood hunk has gotten a Buddhist blessing tattooed on his lower back to honor Maddox. Written in Sanskrit, "the body art, a prayer of protection for the little boy, matches five black columns that [Maddox's mother, Angelina Jolie] has etched on her shoulders," the magazine reports.
Introduced to Buddhism while filming "Seven Years in Tibet," Pitt was described as "not particularly spiritual" in a 1997 Time magazine cover story about the film and "America's fascination with Buddhism." In that same piece, he said that he's "always paid attention to religion because I grew up in a religious background, but I’ve never felt a part of any of them."
Perhaps this box-office superstar is just like many parents who turn, or return, to spirituality and faith when the kids arrive.
To the Christian music fans in Kansas City, Denver, and Jefferson City, Indiana, who are still waiting to watch the Gospel Music Association’s Dove Awards show: your wait is not almost over. You have at least two more weeks before the syndicated broadcast of the ceremonies, held two weeks ago in Nashville, makes it onto your local schedule.
Now here’s the good news for the faithful. The reason the Pony Express could get you the Dove Awards faster than modern technology is that the Christian music industry is becoming less relevant every day. That is, when Carrie Underwood is cleaning up mainstream awards for her tearjerking “Jesus, Take the Wheel” and Alan Jackson’s gospel collection, “Precious Memories” climbs to the fourth spot on the all-genres Billboard 200 chart (today it's down to #10), it’s a sign of the end of Christian music and the beginning of music that happens to be written and played by Christians. Isn’t that what Christian musicians and their fans have wanted all along?
The huge success of the indie hit “Napoleon Dynamite”--the oddball story of a geeky Idaho teen and his friend Pedro--has brought actor Jon Heder, currently starring in the movie Benchwarmers, a slew of new comedic movie roles, along with a great deal of attention to his Mormon faith. I think it's safe to say that no Mormon has gotten this sort of attention in Hollywood since perky blonde Julie Stoffer from “The Real World: New Orleans.” Heder was the focus of a recent USA Today article as well as a feature in this month’s issue of Premiere, and in both interviews, he discusses how his Mormon beliefs affect what roles he picks as well as how he speaks.
According to the Premiere article, Heder won’t take any film roles that involve swearing, violence, or excessive sexuality. Heck, that's not exactly news, since even when he was totally punk'd by Ashton Kutcher and thought he was accidentally sent to a business meeting at a brothel, he didn't use a flippin' cuss word once. Still, the magazine interview makes a big deal out of Heder initially turning down his role in the upcoming flick “School for Scoundrels” because of the amount of profane language it had. (Supposedly, producer Harvey Weinstein had an affinty for the use of the "MF" word in the script.) Eventually, the script was re-written and his co-star, Billy Bob Thornton, supported Heder’s stance by commenting , "I think it's kind of refreshing to see somebody who has values in the movie business."
Despite such endorsements, Heder sounds like he is not completely comfortable with all of the attention on his religious beliefs and is a little concerned his squeaky-clean image will have Hollywood believing he is a long-lost Osmond brother. "It's tough now, because am I like an ambassador (for Mormonism) now? I was representing the church on my mission (Mormons are required to go into the mission field for two years), and now I'm representing the church again in some ways," Heder said in the USA Today profile.
You're flippin right, you are, Jon. Gosh. But you're also speaking up for some of the rest of your fans who don't think all comedy needs to be raunchy and R-rated. S-a-a-w-e-e-t.
Several news outlets reported this weekend that Episcopal churches are piping in U2 music as part of their services--even their liturgy--in an effort to preach the message of ending global poverty.
“As the electric guitar in the U2 anthem ‘Pride (In the Name of Love)’ faded from four speakers, the Rev. Robert Brooks welcomed worshippers to Grace Episcopal Church with an unusual suggestion,” said an AP story. “He warned them to protect their hearing. ‘If the sound's an issue, we do have earplugs available,’ he said.”
The story went on to highlight how U2’s tunes are woven into the liturgy and how something called “guerilla marketing” was utilized weeks in advance to ensure high attendance. Members and visitors are able to take communion while listening to popular U2 anthems.
For churches to include the music of secular musicians is not a new thing; the Vineyard movement, seeker churches, and the growing number Emergent Church communities have long been among those that feature house bands playing popular and classic songs. But piping in music from one of the biggest bands in the world is a signal of what may become a new trend, as pastors and other church leaders realize they can leverage the music of name-brand musicians and bands to communicate their message to the faithful army of church-goers, making it easier for ministers, pastors, rectors, and priests to get it across themselves.
And for bands--or their business managers or labels--this may signal a new realization that churches can be an effective venue for reaching new listeners.
It’s not like I want to invest my time in yet another reality show, but then last weekend I just happened to stumble across one of TLC’s relatively new series, “Little People, Big World”--and now I feel like I am the newest member of the Roloff family. Matt and Amy Roloff are dwarves, standing only about four feet tall, who have four children, some who are average height (the Roloffs do not use the word “normal”), and some who are small-statured like their parents. The series chronicles the family’s challenges as they run a business and tend a 35-acre farm. The show also gives an up-close look at the daily struggles of being vertically challenged in our fast-paced society.
There are many reasons to applaud this show, from the way it respects the Roloffs' unique world to the way it balances the portrayal of their challenges along with their truimphs. While most reality shows try to outsleaze each other with outlandish casting and prurient premises, the Roloffs make for engrossing T.V. because they do not feel sorry for themselves, and instead dream big dreams and take big risks because they want to teach their childen to do the same.
The series also succeeds because not all of the challenges the Roloffs face are specific to their height. While they do face obstacles doing simple tasks we take for granted--such as using a hotel bathroom or pulling a traffic ticket off the windshield of their SUV--they also struggle with problems we can all relate to: paying the bills, worrying about how they are raising their kids, and quibbling with each other about the petty stuff of daily life.
The Roloffs' faith is also represented on the show, but in a very low-key--dare I say it--normal way. The family prays together at dinner, the kids go to a private Christian school, and they make references to the fact that they believe God created them this way for a reason.
In a culture where “diversity” has become a much over-used buzz word, finally here is a series that actually does celebrate diversity, not in a staged-for-ratings way, but in an authentic way that truly creates a better understanding of a different lifestyle. I was so inspired by this family, after only watching one episode, that I found myself taking time to examine what I complain about but shouldn’t, what is holding me back in my life that shouldn’t, and how I could be just a little more like the Roloffs.
Meet Joe, Steve, Mike, and Dan, four men who star in a new five-part A&E series called "God or the Girl?" which begins airing on April 16th. Why the quandary in the title, God or the girl? Who's to say you can't have both? Well, these 20-somethings are engaged in discerning whether or not to enter into the Catholic priesthood, which, of course, requires a vow of celibacy--read: no girls.
Yet, aside from the girls question, what makes this show tick? After years of considering whether to enter seminary, all four of these young men agreed to make their final decision about the priesthood at the end of four weeks of filming, giving the show that "countdown feeling" we audiences seem to love.
A bit about each cast member:
Joe is 28, living in Ohio, and has been debating whether to become a priest for 10 years. His interest in the priesthood seems almost entirely based on his mother's desperate need for one of her six sons to become a priest, and viewers get to observe her disturbing onscreen presence in Joe's life; she says she thinks he's not fit for marriage and hounds him about making his decision so she can be relieved of her "stress" of not knowing. Joe's mom is not at all shy about how disappointed she'll be if he fails her in this endeavor. Perhaps a better title for Joe's dilemma would be: My Mom or the Girl?
Steveis 24, a rich, successful former frat-boy from UVA who gave up his career to become a poor missionary after he began to feel the call to the priesthood. His story relies heavily on the fact that he's given up his $500,000 condo, $80,000/year salary, and a four-year relationship with his girlfriend for a life of poverty, celibacy, and devotion to the church. Aside from a missionary trip to Guatemala, which Steve undertakes only after much pressure and convincing from a mentor, his story is the least interesting of the four. His overriding dilemma: God or Money?
Mikefrom Pennsylvania seems to be the only guy in this series, ironically, who actually has a girl about whom girl to debate. His story centers on his very happy and healthy relationship with his pretty girlfriend, Ally, whom he loves very much and whom his parents clearly hope their son will marry. This, in addition to Mike's aspirations to teach elementary school--which somehow are painted as in conflict with the priesthood--is central to his debate. I'm not sure why, as a priest, he also couldn't teach elementary school, since lots of priests are teachers, but somehow this has become a conflict for him. Aside from his real dilemma about his girlfriend, the most interesting and disturbing dimension of his story is the "mentor priest" in Mike's life, Father Paucelli, who is supposedly "helping" him discern his calling. But, as viewers will see, Father Paucelli really just seems desperate for Mike to break up with his girlfriend and become a priest, regardless of the clear affinity Mike shows for marriage in his future.
Dan, 20, and also from Ohio, is perhaps the most interesting of all four: He is both what his ex-girlfriend calls a "Chick Magnet" (think Heath Ledger back in his "Ten Things I Hate About You" days) and what only can be described as a Catholic zealot. Dan's story revolves around his decision to carry an 80-pound cross (yes, you read this correctly--just like Jesus) for 22 miles in the company of the guys he lives with in Catholic community. He undertakes the challenge at the urging--disturbingly--of his mentor, Father Jeff. Father Jeff's bright idea is that by literally suffering like Jesus by carrying this cross, Dan will be able to better make his decision about the priesthood. Dan doesn't seem to have much of a dilemma at all, and perhaps his story is best titled: God or God?
As I watched the stories of these four men unfold over the course of the series--A&E sent four of the five episodes to reviewers--I kept wondering: Was each episode intentionally cut to emphasize the more controversial dimensions of what these men experience or is the priestly discernment process itself simply a framework for extreme behavior and advice? For example, does Father Jeff contrive Dan's cross-carrying journey for the purposes of the show, or does he genuinely conceive it as a method for discernment? Is the intense, self-interested pressure placed on these aspiring priests by their mentors par for the course in the discernment process or peculiarly unique to the men on the show? Between Joe's mother, Mike's Father Paucelli, and Dan's Father Jeff, the "guidance" given by these advisors appear to be largely self-interested and even desperate at times--desperate to attract young men into the profession, even at the cost of what obviously seems to be their best interest. (Steve is the only one of the four whose mentor does not seem to have ulterior, personal motives in whether or not Steve chooses the priesthood.)
Whether or not the issue of girls is really at the crux of the discernment process, as the title of this series implies, or is just a clever device to spice up the show is a question that lingered in my mind as I watched the stories of Joe, Steve, Mike, and Dan unfold as they tried to make this major life decision. Yet, regardless, this show is sure to draw viewers, if only for the unique nature of the topic, and the strange desire audiences will surely feel as they wonder whether Dan will be able to manage his 22-two mile trek with an 80 pound, homemade, wooden cross--or whether Joe will finally tell his mother to go to hell.
Two key players at J-Dub Records, the label that was summarily dissed and dismissed by the Hasidic hipster Matisyahu last month, appeared on “Soundcheck,” on New York City’s public radio station, yesterday to discuss the label’s future. Aaron Bisman and Jacob Harris (left) sounded more world-weary than bitter about the split with Matisyahu (though they were sure to point out which of the reggae-reb’s hits from his gold album, “Live at Stubbs,” were written by Ben Hesse, Bisman’s co-founder). While they were proud to be giving young Jews a modern, modish way to build community, the pair made clear that they didn’t see the Jewish market as even the primary audience for their artists.
Noted, but it’s hard to imagine lightning like Matisyahu striking twice. The label’s latest signings--including SoCalled, a “dorky white Jewish kid” from Montreal who taught himself Yiddish to make klezmer hip-hop; Golem, who count among their influences The Pogues, They Might Be Giants, and gypsies from the Ukraine; and the multinational collective Balkan Beatbox--all lack the rush of weird wailings of the bearded, black-clad Matisyahu.
I saw "United 93," so you don't have to.
Add to Del.icio.us 
Digg This 
Fave on Technorati
Tom Cruise fans—those who read the gossip mags these days with paper bags over their heads—must wonder, Why does Tom do it? Why pounce on Oprah’s sofa? Why pooh-pooh post-partum depression? Why placenta? Why does he insist on announcing that the birth of his child was “very spiritual”?
One of the reasons Fox’s 
Paul Sharrat had no luck contacting the late Princess Diana three years ago in a televised séance—well, no luck in the sense that Di refused to speak for the cameras. Sharrat did make some $7 million from viewers willing to pony up a $14.95 pay-per-view fee. That kind of luck encouraged 
It seems that fatherhood has brought out a devotion in Brad Pitt that transcends just sharing the same faux-hawk haircut with his adopted son, Maddox Jolie-Pitt.
It’s not like I want to invest my time in yet another reality show, but then last weekend I just happened to stumble across one of TLC’s relatively new series, 
Two key players at