Boys Don't Cry

Finally saw Kimberley Peirce's Boys Don't Cry and was impressed by how many profound statements were worked into its gritty low-budget frame. You're transgendered, the majority of people surrounding you are not transgendered, many of them are hostile towards you because you're transgendered, and few are willing to listen and try and understand the cultural problems associated with being transgendered. Hence, things are difficult, maintaining a job is difficult, and making friends, keeping in touch with family, and being consistent, is difficult, if not impossible. Lies are necessary, depression is immanent, complications are manifold, and friendship is required, not only to help one deal with the psychological disruptions inherent in such a disposition, but also to firmly establish an enduring sense of normalcy. Because being transgendered is perfectly natural and any son of a bitch who goes around religiously promoting some kind of homophobic rhetoric in regards to such physiological features is an abusive, hate mongering, fucker, whose voice should be silenced, period. Such fuckers abound in Boys Don't Cry and the results are ugly. Peirce's film doesn't shy away from providing provocative evidence concerning the abominable affects of mainstream stereotypes, and precisely points out the reprehensible nature of normalized conceptions of the good, adequately illuminating whose ethos is irrevocably out of line.

Robin Hood

Ridley Scott's Robin Hood presents an epic, complicated tale almost worthy of the designation legend. The plot is dense and starts out intense but its momentum relents as its second half falters. Here's the situation: King Richard the Lionheart (Danny Huston) has been crusading for a decade and is about to return home. In England, his less courageous brother Prince John (Oscar Isaac) has been ruling in his stead. Prince John's right-hand-man Godfrey (Mark Strong) strikes a deal with King Philip of France (Jonathan Zaccaï) in which he agrees to kill Richard and then convince John to brutally tax his citizens, thereby fomenting revolution. Then, after civil war has ravaged England, the French can invade and ruthlessly plunder the country.

However, Robin Longstride (Russell Crowe), an honest member of King Richard's crusade, has other plans in mind. After rescuing the English crown from Godfrey's clutches, he returns it to the Royal Family and then sets out for Nottingham in order to reunite a fallen comrade's sword with his father. When said father (Max von Sydow as Sir Walter Loxley) discovers his son is dead, he asks Robin to pretend that he is that very same son, so that if he should pass on, his lands won't fall into the hands of King John. Robin agrees, and, after convincing his new wife, the somewhat upset Marion Loxley (Cate Blanchett), that he's not a scoundrel, begins to restore justice to the region with the help of his Merry Men (Mark Addy as Friar Tuck, Kevin Durand as Little John, Scott Grimes as Will Scarlet, and Alan Doyle as Allan A'Dayle). Fortunately for Robin, Sir Walter also remembers his father (Mark Lewis Jones), who was killed when Robin was 6, and is able to help him rediscover related memories.

There's much more to Robin Hood's plot than what I've presented above. Political intrigue, ethical imbroglios, spiritual reflections, working class rights, aristocratic wisdom, feminine strength, and feudal customs are also synthesized within to create a byzantine portrait of Polanskian proportions. Even with all these intertwined dimensions, each presenting their points directly and/or covertly, Scott and scriptwriter Brian Helgeland still manage to create deeper layers of provocative sensation, showing how the defenders of a French castle take the time to eat during a siege, dealing with 12th century orphanage issues, depicting greed as a conniving hydra, delicately integrating provincial and "urban" life, and lampooning conceptions such as the divine right of kings. Then, as if worried that all of these plot twists have alienated their audience, the film's last section concerns itself with Godfrey's revenge quest and a ridiculous battle, shooting arrows to the wind, building cliché on cliché stick by stick, the multitude of twists and turns requiring closure which is rushed in order to prevent the film from lasting three hours. Robin Hood's ambitions are grand and its narrative multidimensional, but its dénouement suffers beneath the weight of its bulk, and can't support its synthetic structure. It's nice to see the legend of Robin Hood reimagined and intellectualized, Scott's film providing it with unprecedented layers of historical intensification. But the ending made me wish they had localized the story so we could have spent more time with Robin Hood and his Merry Men, its ineffective grandiose form causing me to wish for more regionalized content. Which is the perfect recipe for setting up a sequel, which I'll probably see, and then complain about having seen.

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus

Intermixing fate, superstition, religion, individuality, gambling, dreams, ethics, history, economics, showmanship, temptation, Terry Gilliam's The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus provides a phantasmagorical panoramic synthesis of parapsychological proportions. A religious guru (Christopher Plummer) makes deal after deal with the devil (Mr. Nick played by Tom Waits) only to fall further and further into his demonic clutches. When we first meet the immortal Doctor Parnassus, his daughter Valentina (Lily Cole) is days away from becoming the exclusive property of Satan, and, due to his lacklustre antiquated bush-league performance values, the Doctor has no hope of reversing her fate. But shortly thereafter, his travelling troupe discovers a man hanging from a bridge (Heath Ledger as Tony), and, after saving his life, benefit commercially and ontologically from his gifted oratorical skills. So a new wager must be made which the Prince of Darkness generously conceives, the first one to capture 5 souls receiving sole access to Valentina's future, souls being captured after they enter Doctor Parnassus's Imaginarium, which is the Doctor's imagination physically manifested, the dimensions of which are cultivated according to the imagination of whomever happens to enter (the souls have to decide whether to travel the high or low road within, those flying high becoming the Doctor's possession, those not, Satan's). As Valentina falls for Tony, and Tony's credibility deconstructs itself, Anton (Andrew Garfield) falls by the wayside, and the Doctor must come to terms with immortality. The past and the future then destructively present themselves without recourse to binary oppositions or stable, enduring dispositions. One part romance, two parts tragedy, three parts reality, four parts fantasy, The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus competently delegates intergenerational gesticulations, while mysteriously emphasizing transcendental transmutations. Plus two.

Iron Man 2

Tony Stark is back in Jon Favreau's Iron Man 2, the much anticipated sequel to its critically acclaimed 2008 predecessor. This time around, Iron Man's (Robert Downey Jr.) suit is being sought after by the American military but he refuses to reveal its secrets, claiming to have privatized world peace, the ultimate achievement of the symbolic individual. But historical familial enemies have surfaced, and Stark's Russian shadow-self Ivan Vanko (Mickey Rourke) develops a personalized nuclear apparatus of his own which threatens to dismantle Stark's global franchise. Both of their parents worked together to design the technological infrastructure that created Stark's business, but the elder Vanko (Yevgeni Lazarev) was sideswiped by Stark's father (John Slattery) after which he spent the rest of his days immersed in bitter misery. When the military discovers that another individual has created an Iron Man-like suit, Iron Man's novelty, the fact that he could justify not sharing his design because there was no comparable opposition, wears out, and Stark's friend Lt. Col. James Rhodes (Don Cheadle) comes calling. Stark also makes full-time assistant Pepper Pots (Gwyneth Paltrow) the CEO of his company, American weapons manufacturer Justin Hammer (Sam Rockwell) eventually 'hires' Vanko to streamline the development of battle ready 'Iron Man' suits, the secret intelligence agency S.H.I.E.L.D recruits Tony to see if he has what it takes to be a member, and Stark continues to fall further in love with Pepper while remaining mesmerized by the sultry Natalie Rushman (Scarlett Johansson). Justin Theroux's script is jam packed with several additional subplots, every scene bristling with dynamic multidimensional energy, and while they are laid on a little thick, they manage to transform Iron Man from a particular galaxy into a melodramatic universe, which is one of the principal motivating factors on every fantasy sequel's agenda.

The issue of a privatized military remains problematic and should be investigated however. I suppose that if and only if a socially conscious peace promoting tyrant thwarting military industrial complex destabilizing individual makes up a one-person privatized military (who occasionally requires assistance from close friends), who doesn't take particular sides and is interested in preventing governments from imperialistically colonizing other countries or enslaving their own populations, then a privatized military is okay (the anti-revolution). Hence, Iron Man 2 is an idyllic fantasy, one wherein the individual can function in a godlike fashion outside of communal confinements in order to keep that community safe. His lifestyle is bohemian, and his private interests wolfish, but when it comes to protecting the public from the forces of evil, he's unconditionally ready at all hours of the day, never wavering in his altruistic commitment, always.

But how does this relate to education? What if one school of thought is responsible for guaranteeing intellectual and cultural safety, and only people subscribing to that school are presented as just guardians of a unilateral global political aesthetic (privatized Philosopher Kings)? If that aesthetic has a communal basis that seeks to preserve and maintain an inclusive diverse multicultural multilingual peaceful public organization, complete with universal supporting educational and medical institutions, institutions that would prevent their military from developing and obtaining potentially perverted weapons of mass destruction, without aggressively forcing their ideology onto the cultures of surrounding nations, preferring organic internal growth to hostile external confrontation, while still functioning as a contributing member of the global economy, but not to the extent that it sacrifices its social programs in order to pay its dues, then I guess that's okay. This liberal philosophical kernel facilitates the development of a multidimensional ethical orchard whose political fruit is openly accessible. At the same time, if the one principal school of thought promotes a one-dimensional divisional political frame that preys upon racial tensions in order to divide and conquer the workforce, encouraging different minority groups to squabble amongst one another while a dominant elite few control the means of production and prevent the people from having access to the knowledge required in order to earn a higher income, or charge them astronomical sums in order to be educated so that they'll be mired in debt afterwards for an interminable period of time, then I guess that's not okay. The question is, does Iron Man 2's privatized symbolic individualized military support a Democratic or a Republican ethos, and if it indeed supports one more than the other, how does it demonstrate this support? In order to answer these questions, I've provided some of the film's Republican/Democratic evidence below in order to demonstrate how it supports both ideologies. If we can determine which side's evidence is more convincing, then we can reach a verdict regarding the political character of Iron Man 2, and, derivatively, that of its quintessential political kernel: an individual privatized military.

Republican points: the majority of characters are beautiful; the principal villain is poor; the exaltation of privatization exalts privatization; many of the locales are populated exclusively by the elite; foreigners are depicted as villains insofar as Vanko is Russian and the French police in Monaco allow him to escape; as Pepper attempts to run Tony's company, a Republican pundit calls her a "pin-head"; the film focuses much more of its attention on technology than humanity; and Tony Stark, as the ultimate individual, ideally embodies the forces of capitalism.

Democratic points: Stark can't win this one on his own: the individual needs the support of his friends the most prominent of whom are female and African American (although they could be female and African-American Republicans); as Pepper attempts to run Tony's company, a Republican pundit calls her a "pin-head," and Favreau's direction indicates that we should consider the comment ignorant (it was still presented nonetheless); the private can't function without the public, the two dimensions forming a politico-ethical yin and yang: the private dimension may as well be represented by an individual who is committed to bringing about world peace; the film's secondary villain, military arms dealer Justin Hammer, is incompetent and a prominent American; while speaking to a Senate committee, Lt. Col. James Rhodes demands that his commentary be presented in context; the principal villain is poor and brilliant, and his anger is justified (although his methods are not) insofar as his family was humiliated by the Starks (his relationship with Hammer productively deconstructs his villainy as well); and women are depicted as being thoroughly qualified for tasks traditionally undertaken by men and there is no mention of family or childrearing.

Within Iron Man 2, we have a privatized personalized military. Overtly, this military obviously supports a Democratic viewpoint insofar as it legitimately seeks to secure a balanced world peace, while also supporting a Republican viewpoint inasmuch as it is a privatized military operated by a wolfish individual capitalist. Favreau and Theroux's film has provided a host of conflicting ideological baggage to support either case, only a small amount of which has been presented here, in order to cleverly disguise/ignore their political motivations. I believe that their Iron Man is more Democratic than Republican since their multilayered plot has intelligently crystallized an assiduous ambiguity, or, alternatively, represents Anarchism's progressive dimension (not as a dominant political aesthetic but as a deconstructive tool to challenge ideological stances) (eventually one must act and deal with the communal consequences of their actions [the ways in which they were interpreted, regardless of motive]). Bold, beautiful, complicated, resilient: there's a lot more going on in Iron Man 2 than many similar sequels and I highly recommend trying to figure things out on your own or with friends.

Crazyheart

The careers of many successful musicians have their ups and downs, and Scott Cooper's Crazyheart begins by introducing us to one of country music star "Bad" Blake's (Jeff Bridges) less fortunate moments. He's 57, has lived through 4 divorces, and currently travels from city to city in his ancient suburban in order to play for modest yet enthusiastic crowds in small bars and bowling alleys. Smoking and drinking constantly while still managing to competently perform (although he may have to take the occasional 'rest' in the middle of a song), times are tough for this living legend and it's been a while since he's caught a break. While playing in Santa Fe, he agrees to provide journalist Jean Craddock (Maggie Gyllenhaal) with an interview and the two hit it off. Thanks to her sober advice, Bad feels more comfortable reestablishing a relationship with country music celebrity and former protege Tommy Sweet (Colin Farrell), and his fortunes begin to relatively improve.

Simultaneously interrogating the life and times of a prominent musician and the consequences of alcoholism, Crazyheart demonstrates that life on the inebriated road necessitates a host of artistic acclimatizations, the most disruptive of which often result in successful professional developments. The film doesn't really vilify alcoholism to any serious extent, and even builds Bad up as a badass tough-as-nails aging artist, still playing by his own idiosyncratic rules, who has aged to much to sustain his choice of lifestyle (it demonstrates that alcohol abuse results in a peculiar constitution without moralizing intently on the subject). Instead, it poetically highlights the productive tension maintained between personal reclusion and communal creation, while evocatively elucidating one man's saturated experience.

Gunless

The new Canadian western comedy from director William Phillips examines the dynamic relationship forged between a wild individualistic American rogue and a settled congenial Canadian community. In Gunless, Sean 'The Montana Kid' Rafferty (Paul Gross) escapes from his hanging only to wind up surrounded by decent folk who are relatively ignorant of the American Wild West's code. His integration is smooth if not bumpy insofar as he quickly catches the eye of a local belle (Sienna Guillory as Jane) while still taking the time to 'call-out' Jack, the blacksmith (Tyler Mane), after he uses the word "common" in one of his introductory remarks. The plot comedically incorporates a basic formulation of Aristotle's conception of virtue (the virtue of a knife is its ability to slice) which causes Rafferty to dramatically (if not ironically) question his profession's means-of-production. Then, as he sacrifices his individuality for the community's greater good (after those wishing to hang him show up in town), that community responds in his defence by any-means-necessary.

And there's a gunfight, A-Team style.

The film intermingles slapstick relief with cerebral comic portraits (Rafferty and the carrot) in order to provide a sophisticated mix of jocular wherewithals. Structurally, some of the plot devices simply don't work insofar as The Montana Kid is much too friendly to be considered a ruthless killer, and who invites someone to dinner after they shoot up the local 'bar'/dry goods store? The title is problematic since the town isn't gunless and neither is The Montana Kid, the term "gunless" perhaps referring to Rafferty's identity crisis after winding up in Canada; but this doesn't sufficiently explain things since the town's residents do their best to build up his character, and the man he wishes to duel even reforges said duel's required second pistol even though he wants nothing to do with the duel itself. The relationship between Canadian history and Gunless's social dynamic is legitimate if not infantilized: the one Native character (Two Shoes played by Graham Greene of course) consistently outsmarts his liaison in the NWMP (Dustin Milligan as Corporal Jonathan Kent) and is consequently rebuffed (Native wisdom was overlooked and dismissed [or rewritten from an Anglo-perspective] as the West was Anglicized); there is only one character who speaks French (Anglophone policies of assimilation prevented a French Canadian identity from prominently developing in the West); the Asian family runs the local laundry, doesn't show up for the town dance, and is ignored in an educational setting (laws sought to prevent the immigration and integration of Asians into Western Canadian society [see Howard Palmer's Alberta: A New History][the Asian girl speaks perfect English but is introduced in isolation]); a prominent woman attempts to run her own farm (there must have been examples of strong women in frontier towns taking matters into their own hands who weren't segregated, but the fact that Rafferty's advice helps her to run her farm more efficiently still accurately reflects 19th-century patriarchal norms); and the ambiguously gay character is allowed to integrate as long as he marries and stays in the closet (however, the church is surprisingly absent from the film). Gunless also shows how Canadians are occasionally not as polite as they are generally depicted (when the NWMP troops give Montana a beating) while still depicting them as being generally polite. But this depiction is cultivated with its bold, underrepresented underside, for when push comes to shove, the town's inhabitants are ready to fight for what/who they believe in (Vimy Ridge, Québec's Bill 101). I liked Gunless for the ways in which it demonstrates the potentially productive relationship maintained between a community of individuals in a lighthearted, homely fashion (even if that relationship developed in less than two weeks). More cute and cuddly than rough and tumble, Gunless's theoretically absent arsenal still subtly presents an inordinate ordinance.

How Canadian!