Review Times: The Grey (2012) -
Here’s what The Grey isn’t: it’s not Liam Neeson punching wolves in the face (despite the picture I just posted above this sentence). It’s not an action movie. And it’s definitely not the sort of campy fun that I thought another collaboration between Neeson and his A-Team director Joe…
My good friend Matthew Blackwell wrote a great review of The Grey which will no doubt be required reading for anyone in Liam Neeson studies in the future. (A burgeoning field, from what I hear.)
Some observations (equally SPOILERY as Matthew’s, so you’ve been warned) I’d like to add: this is a movie of great, great extremes. For any occasions of startling, upsetting, and tremendously visceral violence and horror, there are moments of tenderness and beauty that, if not balance things out, at least give some shreds of hope to cling to. Matthew rightfully picked out the great scene earlier when Neeson’s character talks a man through his death; I’d add some of the vistas of B.C. and Alberta wilderness standing in for Alaska in addition to the chemistry and conversation between the survivors. (That second part is where a lot of what Matthew calls the movie’s “naturalist, atheistic treatise on the nature of life” gets communicated more-or-less explicitly to the audience.)
The extremes illustrate a theme that I’ve been interested in for a while, that modern living is unnatural to our most primal selves. The conflict is really between two packs, shown as the actions that Neeson takes, in securing the group or assuring its safety, are mirrored in the actions of the wolf den they inadvertently tread upon.
A scene that shows this best is when a character challenges Neeson’s authority over the group. Neeson’s defends himself when this gets violent, knocking the other character to the ground where he comes face to face with another wolf, one who also challenged the authority of his alpha. Except, in the case of the wolf den, the one who tried to seize power was exiled for the betterment of the group. After the wolf is defeated, Neeson doesn’t take a similar action. Instead, the errant man is welcomed back.
Setups like that make the final scene, where Neeson himself faces off with the alpha, even more important. It questions what makes us better and stronger, and ultimately what strength is in this context.
“If you don’t agree with my opinions, why would you even peruse a book with my name on it?”
That’s a parenthetical statement in Leonard Maltin’s 151 Best Movies You’ve Never Seen, but still seems a little pointed. The reason I’m perusing this book, at least in the most practical sense, is because some friends gave it to me, knowing how much I’ve been digging into Maltin’s annual movie guide.
In the preface, Maltin says that he just wants to introduce people to movies they’re unfamiliar with. “I don’t present these as forsaken masterpieces: they’re just good movies that I’m glad I saw,” he says.
In keeping with all that, what he presents here is a bit of a hodge-podge, at least from what I know of the movies. I’ve seen eight of the 151 listed here: Bubba Ho-Tep, C.R.A.Z.Y., 15 Minutes, A Home at the End of the World, Mad Money, The Man from Elysian Fields, The Matador, and The Weather Man. I love some of those movies, appreciate elements of others, then think that some are decidedly mixed bags.
(Although admittedly, maybe I wasn’t the most generous viewer when it came to The Man from Elysian Fields since we were watching it as part of a Mick Jagger night, along with Freejack.)
I’m excited to get into this. What about the decidedly-muddled premise of Diane Keaton’s Mad Money appealed to Maltin? Or Nicolas Cage’s unfocused The Weather Man, which I reviewed way back on Absolute Dreck!?
That aspects of his selections make this book really, really interesting. I’m pumped, guys.
Slate’s L.V. Anderson does a great job of trashing the myth that Jennifer Lawrence is too big a lady to play Katniss, and does so while dropping the line “her thighs appear functional rather than merely decorative”, which is just added style points right there.
The Hunger Games is drawing out huge female audiences to see a movie about a lady who’s only goal in life isn’t to hook a man, and the person playing that lady is an attractive person who isn’t Olsen-skinny. Basically, film crit bros should know better than to be dropping nonsense like this.
For a second I thought this was a stamp. Now I wish there were a Gamera stamp.
Gamera loves children! And mail!
(Source: dudesmacdougal)
The idea of a movement of people wanting to be de-baptized is of no consequence to me; I don’t know why they’d pursue it, but it really doesn’t matter to me. What caught me was this detail in NPR’s piece about a 71 year old man who wants his name completely removed from baptismal records: “Back then, he says, you couldn’t even get credit at the bakery if you didn’t go to mass every Sunday.”
That’s no good. If you’re in the situation where you need credit at the bakery, you don’t want to have it depend on how devout you are. But man, does that hit a nostalgia nerve for a time I never lived in.
(Source: NPR)
“The Church will hold to its own doctrine, but it must do so in a world that is mostly non-Catholic. Catholics may have to abandon the idea that the state owes us funding for services, because such funding inevitably entails state controls. We might work from the ground-up to change public attitudes as we did with abortion. We might rethink the theological opinions that condition Catholic cooperation upon secular agreement with our doctrines (the “Hawaii Model” allows this). What we can’t do is argue that government treating everyone the same constitutes anti-Catholic discrimination.” —
Anthony Stevens-Arroyo. “A Catholic Nullification Doctrine?” The Washington Post.
Amen. This is a tough point to articulate, risking trampling religious rights while also refusing to allow well-meaning people the right to help out social services. Stevens-Arroyo does a great job of not only placing it in context but also arguing to Catholics why they need to accept this.
(Source: Washington Post)
It honestly just hit me that I am nearing the end of the U.S. Prime Suspect. Previously, I had been going through, enjoying the show for what it is, but here am I, on episode 11, two left to go before the end, and I’m finding myself kinda sad about it.
Part of it is just my love for crime procedurals. I don’t watch nearly as much of them as I used to. Back in the day, each and every Law and Order was appointment viewing for me. I would watch them as they aired and then catch old episodes in reruns, which almost seems novel to me now. It’s such a fruitful genre that allows for so many possibilities, not least of which just a hundred auxiliary characters that are all bold and fun.
There’s no dearth of procedurals on T.V. but none of them hit me like Prime Suspect does right now. The setting is one t hing. The characters are all more rough around the edges than what you’ll find on Criminal Minds or C.S.I.
But jeez. It’s also just a great show. I always look forward to seeing that, and not just for the good Mario Bello or the fucking great Kirk Acevedo and Kenny Johnson. (Side note: I was real, real happy to see The Unit’s Michael Irby in this episode, too. Shawn Ryan represent.)
I think the entertaining shows, the shows designed to be watched a week at a time and not in huge DVD chunks, can have some weight to the characters, some interest in the stories. So, I’m sad to see the U.S. Prime Suspect go.
With any luck, the U.K. version will soften the blow when I get around to it.
Fittingly enough, this jaunt is being dubbed the “Welcome 2 Canada” tour.
Who’s being welcomed 2 Canada? Are we welcoming Prince to Canada? Is he welcoming us to our country? Is he welcoming himself?
I was thinking to myself earlier that it would be great if I could give blood without having to go in and do the whole needle thing. The only solution I could come up with was some sort of Star Trek transporter technology. Problem with that is, by the time we’ve got this whole transporter thing figured out, I think we’ll be set on the blood front.
