Friday, August 31, 2018

God Told Me To (1976)

Somehow, some way, God Told Me To (1976) a sci-fi/horror flick by veteran genre director Larry Cohen, escaped my notice until summer of this year.  I caught the end of it on an obscure cable channel late one night.  I was so intrigued, I had to go off on a search to find the film on my own, on-demand, to watch it later.
My knowledge of Cohen's movies includes Q: The Winged Serpent (1982) a sci-fi-fi/horror tale about a giant prehistoric creature-visualized through stop-motion effects-terrorizing New York City.  This film has no less than Kung-Fu and Kill Bill's David Carradine, Shaft's Richard Roundtree, American Graffitti's Candy Clark, and Law and Order's Michael Moriarity standing in the way of the monster.  Also, I associate Cohen for the film of which he is best-known,  It's Alive!(1974) a horror film focusing on the aftermath of the destructive path of a mutant baby(!)
I decided to write about God Told Me To in my religious movie blog, because of the thread of religious themes woven throughout the movie.  Truth be told, the resultant film indicates the director is not entirely sympathetic or positive, when it comes to the supernatural nature of religion.
I doubt that God Told Me To could be made today-or, at the very least, could open the way it opens-with a literal bang.  At the start of the movie, we see crowds of people walking the streets on a sunny, busy afternoon day in New York City.  Suddenly, we hear a series of random shots fired-and folks start dropping like flies on the sidewalks.  It appears that a hidden sniper is picking off civilians left and right, and frightened people run every-which-way for cover.
In the wake of national firearms-related tragedies, like the 2017 Las Vegas mass shooting, where a hidden sniper massacred a crowd of concert-goers outside the Mandalay Bay Casino, it is not hard to understand why a film scene such as this sniper scene could be considered in bad taste.  Little wonder that God Told Me To languishes in obscurity on late-night cable television today.  In the interest of fairness, this scene does not define the movie.
The location of the hidden gunman is quickly revealed to be a perch atop a tall water tower amongst the skyscrapers.  The police, including NYPD detective Peter Nicholas (Tony Lo Bianco) quickly rush to the tower to confront the gunman.  In a questionable move, Nicolas volunteers to risk his life to climb to the top of the tower to confront the gunman-and hopefully, talk him down from his perch.
Nicholas manages to get in the gunman's face as he is preparing to re-load his .22 caliber rifle.  The shooter is revealed to be a young, disheveled white male in his 20s.  When Nicholas asks why he is shooting people, the young man replies "God told me to," and, without warning, jumps off the tower to his death.  The young man's horrified mother witnesses the entire spectacle from down below, and swears this murderous behavior is completely out-of-character for her son.
Over the next several days, Nicholas is charged with investigating a diverse series of random, unplanned murders.  There is a knife massacre in a supermarket; a shooting at a St. Patrick's Day parade (perpetrated by a cop, in a distracting cameo by legendary comedian Andy Kaufman!) and a father's slaughter of his own family.  One common element to these seemingly-unrelated murders?  The assailant in each case claims "God Told Me To" when asked for a motive for the slayings.
A mysterious anonymous phone call received by the police before the St. Patrick's Day parade murder indicates that these killings may be less unplanned than the public is led to believe, but, the police have nothing further to go on.
Nicholas is able to find a connection between one of the killers and a long-haired man named Bernard Phillips (Richard Lynch).  It appears that Phillips is the leader of a religious cult, and the members of this cult are the perpetrators of these murders.  Phillips is influencing the murderers via strange psychic powers-the members feel they are being contacted by God, but it is Phillips who is manipulating them.
In a very interesting story development, we find out that Nicholas, in a confrontation with Philips, has more to play as a central part in this story than we first believe.  We see it all has something to do with the two men's (possible) extra-terrestrial origins (!) Thus, we are gradually led to a final confrontation between the "angelic" Nicholas (who we learn, despite an extra-marital affair, is a devout Catholic) and the "demonic" Phillips.
Director Cohen also produced and wrote this film.  The director appears to delve into the rhelm of scientism, using science-in this case, the existence of aliens, alien abduction, and ESP-to explain what was previously believed to be supernatural aspects of religion.  Cohen is on record as stating that, along with the Bible, an inspiration for this movie is Chariots of the Gods?, author Erich von Daniken's 1968 novel hypothesizing that the religions of ancient civilizations were given to them by ancient aliens mistaken for gods.
God Told Me To is an entertaining movie, misunderstood by critics on its initial release.  It's definitely a cult classic in it's own right, like Cohen's other movies.  It's filled with a good amount of action, thrills and chills, and surprising plot-twists.  Don't think for a moment though, that you'll be convinced by Cohen's explanations for the supernatural, and the origins of religion.  Just enjoy the ride :-)














Thursday, August 30, 2018

The Exorcism of Emily Rose (2005) and Requiem (2006)

Today I choose to write my reflections on two films, a first for this blog.  The movies I choose to spotlight are: an American drama film directed by Scott Derrickson titled The Exorcism of Emily Rose (2005); and Requiem (2006) a German drama film directed by Hans Christian-Schmidt.  Both Requiem and Rose are based on the strange,  real-life case of German woman Anna Elisabeth "Anneliese" Michel.  I feel a connection to this story, being a Catholic Christian interested in the ritual of exorcism, but also due to some odd coincidences-like the fact that in the past I have visited the town of Wurzburg, where Anneliese Michel attended college in the 1970s.
Annelise Michel (1952-1976) was a West German young woman who was diagnosed with epileptic psychosis.  She had a history of ineffective psychiatric treatment.  After five years of ineffective treatment, her devout Catholic family sought the help of the Church.  She underwent Catholic exorcism rites a year before her death.  She died as a result of dehydration and malnourishment.  Her parents and two priests were charged with negligent homicide in her death, and were sentenced to fines and probation.
Scott Derrickson, the director of Emily Rose, minored in theological studies in college.  He is a Protestant believer, who is not afraid to examine questions of faith and morals in his movies.  He is also a veteran director who concentrates on speculative fiction subjects.  Some of his most popular movies include Sinister (2012), Deliver Us From Evil (2014), and Doctor Strange (2016).
As regular readers of my blogs already know, speculative fiction is one of my favorite film genres-and this includes the horror genre.  It can be difficult at times to reconcile my faith with this envelope-pushing genre.   It is particularly interesting, when the subjects of religion and horror intersect.  This intersection is often most noticeable in the horror sub-genre of the "exorcism" movie.
The Exorcism of Emily Rose really stands out from the pack from your standard exorcism movie, particularly with regards to its structure and characterizations.
Emily Rose opens with the arrest of Father Richard Moore (veteran actor Tom Wilkinson) a Catholic diocesan priest who is accused of negligent homicide by the government, following the death of one 19-year old college student,  Emily Rose (Jennifer Carpenter, of Dexter tv fame.) Father Moore had recently performed an exorcism on Emily Rose, but she did not survive the ritual-dying of self-inflicted wounds and malnutrition.
Father Moore's Archdiocese begs him to plead guilty in the case, to avoid any further bad publicity, but Father Moore maintains his innocence.  The case comes to the attention of attorney Erin Bruner (Laura Linney, in a strong portrayal) a hungry and ambitious agnostic, who sees the high-profile case as a potential springboard to a partnership in her firm.  Moore agrees to be represented by Bruner, in hope that the truth of the Emily Rose incident can be brought to light in court.
What's particularly novel about Emily Rose among exorcism movies is the setting-most of the drama of the film takes place in the courtroom.  Emily's past is told through flashbacks during the trial, through witness testimony.  And yes, this gives the film the opportunity to showcase some considerable melodramatic special effects.  Judge Brewster (Mary Beth Hurt) presides over the trial-though, we never get a sense of her religious beliefs, or lack thereof.  The prosecuting attorney chosen for this case is one Ethan Thomas (Campbell Scott, in a convincing performance) a devout Methodist, who is deeply skeptical of the rite of exorcism.
The prosecution highlights Emily Rose's history of epilepsy and psychosis to explain her strange behavior at college that prompted Father Moore's exorcism.  Emily failed to respond to the anti-seizure medication prescribed to her by doctors to curb her strange visions and physical contortions.  She was driven home from college by her friend Jack, after which, her religious family summoned the priest.
Bruner's defense of Moore relies on the idea that the possibility is that Emily Rose could have, in fact, really been possessed by demons-a possibility that, though possibly untrue, cannot be entirely ruled out.  Bruner highlights this possibility by questioning authoritative witnesses such as Sadira Adani (Shohreh Aghdashloo) an anthropologist who relays to the court the spiritual possession legends from other cultures.
Though an agnostic, Bruner comes to question her own lack of religious conviction-we see her awakened at an odd hour of the night (3 am, the hour when demons choose to mock the Holy Trinity, according to exorcism lore.)  She experiences various supernatural phenomena at home, and is reminded by Father Moore that he, too, suffered such exposure to the demonic on the night before the exorcism.
The trial, and the film, ends in a not-quite-expected way, and we are given a glimpse of future events that, depending on your point-of-view, could be cause for hope for the future.
Make no mistake about it, this is a frightening film.  The audio and visual components of the movie add up to quite a few jump-scares.  Definitely not a movie to watch late at night all alone in a dark house!
The film was co-written by Derrickson and Paul Harris Boardman.  Derrickson has said in an interview that he chose Boardman specifically because he is a non-believer.  Derrickson saw the pairing of a man of faith and a skeptic, as infusing the screenplay with two different perspectives.   This pairing was necessary to create a sense of ambiguity with regard to the story, allowing viewers to make up their own minds regarding whether the film is a religious/supernatural interpretation of events, or a secular/medical interpretation.
There is also ambiguity regarding the story of Anneliese Michel when it comes to Hans Christian-Schmidt's 2006 film Requiem, based on the same case as Emily Rose.  Hans Christian-Schmidt, despite his name, is not a believer.  He appears focused on the question: why would an intelligent young woman, an epileptic, choose the arcane ritual of exorcism, over continuing medical treatment for her disease?
Scripted by Bernd Lange, the film unfolds slowly, and not much happens but gradually.  The cinematography is such that it looks as if it was actually filmed in the the period it is based in (the 70s) though filmed decades later.  Definitely a lower-budgeted affair here, as compared to Rose.  Sandra Huller plays central character Michaela, and she is very believable in this pivotal role.  We get a great sense of her sheltered upbringing as an epileptic in her strong Catholic family in her small town, and the culture shock she experiences when she goes off to college.  At college, she encounters new experiences, becoming re-acquainted with an old friend from her town (Anna Bloomier) and meeting a new boyfriend (Nicholas Reinke.)  Unfortunately for Michaela, the symptoms of her epilepsy (an illness she had been concealing and controlling with medication) start to manifest themselves under the stress of college, and she experiences the hearing of voices, along with the seizures this time.  Perhaps as a result of falling into sinful behavior at school, Michaela decides to turn back to the Church for help.
Michaela runs into trouble when she finds it hard to trust either the pastor of her parish, or the parochial vicar, both of which have wildly deferring positions on the rite of exorcism.  Complicating matters is the fact that although her father loves her, and wants what's best for her, Michaela's relationship with her domineering mother is very strained.  The film seems to imply that it is Michaela's mother that forces Michaela to trust the rite of exorcism, over the medical solutions to her condition-despite her father's objections.
In the end, the only thing we're really sure of in Schmidt's film is that mental illness is a terrible thing.  The film is scary, but not in a traditional horror film way.  It's scary, because it shows demonic possession to be a subjective and perspective condition.  As a believer, I find this POV lacking, but, the possibility of it being remotely true, as highlighted by Requiem is considerably scary to me.















Sunday, August 26, 2018

The Big Lebowski (1998)

This year marks the 20th anniversary of what is arguably one of the best films of master filmmakers Joel and Ethan Coen (Fargo, Raising Arizona, Miller's Crossing, No Country for Old Men, etc.)

It took me a long time to come around to the “Cult of Lebowski."  

I recall when the film was released, I was in my early twenties.  I didn’t quite understand the appreciation of the film back then.  It was particularly embraced by college students.

A friend and co-worker around the time the film was first released loved the movie, saw it for a future masterpiece-and, though a professed teetotaler, would order White Russians (a signature drink of the protagonist in the film) at bars when I hung out with him.  This man was a “hipster,” though we didn’t really use that terminology back in those days. I think the fact that he liked the film so much, became a reason for me to dislike said movie.  I’ve always had a natural aversion to anything that is popular, in the mainstream or underground, *UNLESS* I discover said thing myself, without help.

Though I don't always agree with the philosophies behind their movies, particularly when they conflict with the tenets of my faith (see-major plot points of Searching for Llewyn Davis, etc.) I make it a point to watch the Coen brothers movies when the opportunities present themselves.

When I first saw the movie, I didn't know what to make of it.  I thought there was a lot (in fact, way too much) profanity. And I didn't really "get" the humor.

I also thought the film thin on plot, and overly preoccupied with quirky characterizations.

Now, in my forties, I think I can relate to the film on a deeper level.  Particularly, I relate to the central character of The Dude more than I ever thought possible.  

The Dude is very mellow and laid-back.  Though he's unemployed, he did go to college, and he was involved in activist causes.  He is thought a fool by those who don't know him well enough, and judge him on appearance.  He's much smarter than folks give him credit, and he has a knack for being underestimated by friends and adversaries alike.

The plot begins as follows: The movie takes place in the early 1990s, around the time of Operation Desert Storm.  In a case of mistaken identity, The Dude is ambushed at home by a couple of goons, who soil one of his few prized possessions (his living room rug) and dunk his head in his own toilet, whilst breaking the Dude's recently procured bottle (alcohol?) near his head.  The goons have confused The Dude with a man with the same legal name, Jeffrey Lebowski (David Huddleston) the "Big Lebowski" of the title, whose wife owes their boss, porn producer Jackie Treehorn (Ben Gazarra) money.  Realizing their mistake, they leave without so much as an apology.  The dude is left to ruminate on the strange confrontation with his friends and bowling buddies-Vietnam vet and gun afficionado Walter Sobchak (John Goodman) and Donny (a bullied surfer, played by Steve Buschemi.)
The Dude is convinced by Walter to pay a visit to the other Jeffrey Lebowski, to ask for compensation for his ruined rug (in their minds, the Big Lebowski is responsible for the damage, since it *his* rug the goons had meant to urinate upon!) Thus begins a comedic odyssey full of more twists and turns, and crazy characters than one can shake a stick at.

I decided to write about The Big Lebowski in my religious, as opposed to my secular movie blog, because I notice some strong parallels between certain characters in the film, and major figures/archetypes of Catholic Christian theology.  The film has enough depth to write more on other observations in my secular bog, which I will undoubtedly do at some point.

However, as far as religion, the focus of *this* blog, is concerned: much has been written/said about the connection between the philosophy of central protagonist Jeffrey “The Dude” Lebowski (Jeff Bridges) and Zen Buddhist philosophy.

However, what is more interesting to me are the strong similarities between The Dude, and Jesus Christ.  Further, I notice a connection between “The Stranger” (Sam Elliot) narrator of the film, and the Almighty God.  And then there is the interchangeability of the “other” Jeffrey Lebowski (David Huddleston) the "Big Lebowski" of the title, and Satan/the Enemy/the Adversary. There is a Jesus by name in the film as well-Jesus Quintana (John Turturro) who is actually more of an Anti-Christ.

Like Jesus Christ in the New Testament, The Dude is respected and loved by a small circle of friends.  Like Christ, he is disrespected by those who don’t know who he really is.  The Dude is attacked without provocation in his small abode, humiliated, his meager possessions in his house vandalized.   

The Dude does not have respect for phony authority figures (who also lack respect for him) and like Christ, adheres to a philosophy of do-unto-others.

Though I don’t agree with all the main points posited by the author, most of the significant parallels between The Dude and Christ can be found in this interesting book excerpt: https://www.popmatters.com/165034-takin-it-easy-for-us-sinners-the-dude-and-jesus-christ-2495800788.html

The Christ-like allegory is not a perfect fit: The Dude is not averse to recreational drug/alcohol use, practicing unmarried sex, or totally immune to avarice.  Still, there are enough commonalities to justify a comparison.

Additionally, I notice some strong parallels between the character of "The Stranger" (Sam Elliot) and God the Father:

-Both are omniscient
-Both are good
-Both dislike cursing
-Both are philosophical
-Both are portrayed in film/artistic renderings as old/gray
-Both are storytellers
-The Stranger has an almost paternal, or at least, friendly attitude towards The Dude; likewise, God has his own son, Jesus Christ
-God has been cited by believers as a reason to eschew alcohol-for instance, belief
 in a "Higher Power" by those in Alcoholics Anonymous.  The Stranger drinks Sarsaparilla, a non-alcoholic beverage

And so on and so on...

Conversely, "The Big Lebowski", Jeffrey Lebowski, the wheelchair-bound millionaire, is a stand-in for Satan.  

Lebowski is a fraud, like the Devil.  He pretends to be a bigger deal than he is in reality.  He's all about self-promotion, and deception.  We find out later in the movie via his daughter Maude (Julianne Moore) that all Lebowski's money comes from his wife.  Lebowski shames others, particularly The Dude, for not being what he himself misleadingly pretends to be-a self-made boot-strapper.

Lebowski finds a dupe (The Dude) who he believes nobody will miss, to take the fall for his crimes.  There is a connection here between what the Big Lebowski does, and what The Dark One did in utilizing Judas Iscariot for his own nefarious schemes.

Oddly enough, there is a character specifically named "Jesus"-here, Jesus Quintana-in The Big Lebowski.  This character is nothing like the biblical Jesus Christ and, if anything, is an exact opposite.  The character can thus be considered an Anti-Christ stand-in.  

Jesus Christ is known for such quotes as "Let the children come to me" (Matthew 19:14) and "Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of Heaven" (Matthew 18:3.)

Quintana's relationship with the subject of children is completely opposite-he is specifically mentioned by Walter as being a pederast, and a registered sex offender.  We also see a fantasy sequence of Quintana going door-to-door, to inform his neighbors of said-registered status.

The character of Quintana is meant to be a comedic one, though it is hard in today's day and age of sexual misconduct scandals to find much humor in this characterization.  I can deal without him in the movie.  It's definitely an element in this film that has not aged well.  Particularly troublesome, is the fact that a spin-off movie featuring the character has been filmed and produced.

Despite a character like Quintana, Catholic Christian viewers, and other persons of faith can still find many aspects to enjoy and admire in The Big Lebowski.  I still cringe at the overuse of profanity and, at times, distorted views of sexuality presented in the movie.  I would advise that the film has a limited audience for those willing to overlook its flaws, to appreciate the cinematic merit that the movie brings to the table.











  






Friday, August 3, 2018

The Rosary Murders (1987)

I discovered the film The Rosary Murders (1987) completely by accident via the Comcast on-Demand free movie tab of my regional cable tv provider. I pride myself on my awareness of cinema of the decade of the 1980s (the more obscure, the more I like it) so I was rather surprised that I had never seen or even heard about this particular film. The movie has been classified in the genres of mystery and neo noir.  It is based upon a novel of the same name.  

The novel The Rosary Murders is the first in a series of books featuring Father Robert Koesler, written by author William X. Kienzle, a former priest-turned-novelist. Kienzle co-wrote the screenplay, along with acclaimed crime novelist Elmore Leonard-whose novels and stories have been adapted into movies like Get Shorty and Out of Sight, and the Justified tv series.  The director of The Rosary Murders, Fred Walton, also worked on the script.

The Rosary Murders film is set largely in the gritty Southwest side of Detroit of the 1980s.  I’ve never been to Detroit, but the city looks almost as depressed and run-down in the 80s, as it does in current news footage.  Consequently, the background camera shots of the city’s decrepit look facilitate a necessary dark and foreboding atmosphere for the story.  In addition, location shooting at Detroit’s historic Holy Redeemer Roman Catholic Church lends a bit of real-life pastoral authenticity to the proceedings.   

Donald Sutherland stars as main protagonist Father Koesler (pronounced Kess-ler).  Father Koesler’s parish is the focus of the main drama, during which a string of priests and sisters alike are brutally murdered with impunity by an unseen, vengeful killer.  The one thing all the victims have in common, is that they are left for dead with a single, identical black set of rosary beads draped delicately in one hand. The deaths of each of the victims is depicted onscreen in varying degrees -either only the aftermath is shown, or the deaths are vividly, shockingly, and violently played out in front of the cameras.   

There are also a few interesting sub-plots along the way-Father Koesler makes the acquaintance of female investigative reporter (and lapsed Catholic) Pat Lennon (Belinda Bauer) who is in dogged pursuit of the killer.  The two form a strong bond during the course of the events of the story, that veers dangerously toward the romantic.  Veteran character actor Charles Durning plays Father Ted Nabors, Pastor of Father Koesler’s church, serving as an antagonist of sorts here.  Father Nabors is, in many respects, the opposite to Father Koesler, including in personality and pastorally.

Anyone who has ever asked-particularly people of faith, and especially Catholic Christians-what might happen if a priest were ever to be confided in by a killer in the confessional, may obtain one answer in this film.  Father Koesler happens to be the priest in question, and his struggle with whether to break the seal of the sacrament of confession is a key plot point of the movie.  There’s mostly a lot of outside pressure on the priest, particularly from the quarters of law enforcement.  When cops start getting murdered by the killer, that pressure reaches higher dimensions, as not all police are Catholic, or willing to abide by the professional restrictions of the priesthood-as one cop less-than-eloquently states to Father Koesler.

As far as the mystery as to who is actually killing all these religious, this is less of a revelation in the story, than the motive behind the killings.  The motive also has a direct tie-in to some of the central characters in this drama.  But, even if we, the audience, find out who exactly is responsible early on, we don’t actually get to see the perpetrator’s face until nearly the end of the movie.   

All three of the leads-Sutherland, Durning, and Bauer-turn in believable performances in this picture, particularly Sutherland.  I was unfamiliar with Australian Bauer’s work, but she’s very capable in this role. I’ve read she’s retired from acting, and is now a licensed Psychologist.

As a Catholic Christian, I did find myself researching the theological truth behind some of what’s portrayed onscreen.  For instance, Father Koesler and Father Nabors violently disagree, at one point, over whether a baby born out-of-wedlock can be legitimately baptized in the Church.  Both men display such strength and certainty in their convictions, that it’s difficult to determine, based on what’s said and what’s shown, who is actually right.  Prior knowledge of the correct protocol by the viewer is not required, however, as the difference of opinion between the two men serves well to highlight the opposite nature of both, and the dividing wedge between them.

After watching The Rosary Murders film, I am curious to seek out the original source material.  Kienzle wrote twenty-four books in the Father Koesler mystery series, the last of which appeared about a year after Kienzle’s death in 2002.  It is unfortunate that the film version was not financially successful-it only made $1,730,337 at the box office for the Samuel Goldwyn Company, low even for 1987 standards.  I would have liked to have seen the further screen adventures of Father Koesler.

Perhaps some budding filmmaker out there will take another crack at adapting these stories?  It would be an interesting and welcome development, to be sure.  We can always use more movies with people of faith, particularly the religious, in a positive cinematic role.