Fedoras, Bullwhips and Macaroni and Cheese

When people ask me what I thought about "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skulls", I tell them its the cinematic equivalent of comfort food. It's something from a bygone era (both in setting and actual viewing history for the audience) that reminds us of simpler, better times and as long as you don't expect too much of it other than to be exactly what you remembered it as, you'll be OK.

"Indy 4" opens in 1957, at Area 51 in Nevada, where Soviet spies have infiltrated a top secret military installation in search of a powerful artifact. Indiana Jones is working for the government there and becomes embroiled (surprise!) in the confrontation with the Soviets, culminating in first the betrayal of his longtime partner, a fight in a warehouse (yes, the same warehouse that we saw at the end of "Raiders of the Lost Ark"), a long chase through the desert and a nuclear bomb test. Later Indy is approached by one "Mud" Williams, a cocky but resourceful and sincere young man who requests Indy's help in locating his mother who's been kidnapped by agents unknown who are hope to use her to help locate an artifact sought out by the boy's stepfather, also now missing. Indy recognizes the stepfather as a former associate and despite an initial period of wariness, agrees to help the boy.

Indy later discovers that the stepfather was searching for a legendary lost city that supposedly housed one of the infamous crystal skulls, an object of purported great mystical power, and that the same Soviet agents that infiltrated Area 51 are now responsible for the kidnappings of Mud's mother and stepfather, and that his connection to Mud's mother is far greater than he would have imagined. Indy is faced with struggles both internal and external as he battles to keep the crystal skull safe from nefarious hands and to save the "family" he never had in the process.

The Indiana Jones series has changed slightly in the 27 years since it first appeared, as it should. Harrison Ford is now 65 years old, and though he is still a formidable action hero, you get the feeling this is probably his swan song as the incredibly lucky (and by turns, incredibly UNLUCKY) Indy. There' s a certain world weariness to Indy's out loud thoughts about all the deaths he's experienced, including that of his father, played by the late Sean Connery, in a "picture and sad music only" cameo. Without posting a spoiler, the ending of the film, while it doesn't precisely put Indy in retirement, certainly suggests he's going to be busy with more than just seeking out mystical objects and may have found a "treasure" more valuable than any he's sought or attained before. And to be fair, it would be a good place to end the series, with the revelations of this film really bringing the series to a natural and ultimately, quite positive and fulfilling conclusion.

But as a whole this film embraces the same type of philsophy and raison de etre that the other films in the series did. Conceived as an homage and open love letter to the old Republic serials of the 30s and 40s, it has evolved over the years into a kind of living testament to the joy of filmgoing itself, containing all the rollicking, over the top action (I particularly enjoyed the swordfight on top of the racing jeeps) and straight forward "good versus evil" that an audience pummeled by the negativity of the general mass culture has been pining for, perhaps for decades. The film doesn't require much more from the audience than to simply sit back and enjoy the ride; with its honest, brave incorruptible heroes and craven, power hungry villains, its outrageous chase and fight scenes and tongue in cheek tone, it really defines 20th century American cinematic escapism. The beauty and artistry of "Indy 4" comes from the way it is able to pull off these broad strokes in a way that never seems tired or overly predictable.

The film is catapulted above the realm of simple exploitation action film by several key elements. It's no surprise that the creative minds behind this enterprise, including Stephen Spielberg and George Lucas, would be able to craft a creative and original chapter of the series that advances the story without sacrificing the core appeal, nor that John Williams' stirring score once again captures an atmosphere of larger than life derring do and adventure. It's great to see Cate Blanchett shine in an obviously fun role, and Shia LeBouf works well as "Mud" Williams and of course it's great to see Karen Allen back after 27 years as Marion Ravenwood (where has this buried treasure been hiding? is what I want to know). Ford is still iconic (and laconic) as Indiana Jones, a truly iconic character in American cinema. I've been trying to think of another character that's had a similarly long run in the movies and always been played by the same actor, and the only one I can come up with is "Dirty Harry" who lasted a total of 23 years from 1971 to 1994, and was always played by Clint Eastwood. Jones blows Harry away by lasting 27 years, though Harry does have the edge on total movies (5-4).


It's really a testament to Ford's appeal as an actor to have portrayed a character that has stood the test of time and won a truly unique place in the American zeitgeist. Even with visible aging, we still thrill to Indy beating the bad guys, chasing down lost totems of power, rescuing fair maidens and living a life of adventure. It helps a bit that he's rooted in an earlier, at least somewhat simpler era where the winds of change don't blow quite so hard and so quickly. But it is also telling to see how desperately America, despite all its declared and perceived cynicism, yearns to see a sterling hero in a black and white world. If I didn't know better, I'd say that somewhere lurking under all that faux sophistication and obligatory world weariness we still want the comfort of those things that sustained us as children; food that nourished us regardless of the dubious nutritional content, and films that made us feel like the world was an understandable place with hope of happy endings, if the theater and maybe elsewhere too.

The film is not perfect of course. There's some a bit too much cute dialogue among Indy and his group at times and for anyone who's seen "Raiders of the Lost Ark" (read: everybody) the ending of this film is very, very familiar. But none of this is going to do much to mute the intense sense of good feeling and warmth it easily engenders. There is truly a need of drama that asks difficult questions about our world and leaves no easy answers, but I'd argue there's an equal need for the simple comfort of well crafted escapism, like the Indiana Jones series that succeeds, at least in the confines of the darkened theater, in making sense of the morally ambiguous world we live in and reinforces the notion that once in a while, it's OK to just feel good.

Mea Culpa

A little over a year ago (April Fool's Day, 2007, to be exact), I went to a medium for a reading. I actually posted a blog entry about it at some point, so there's no point in rehashing the session here, but one of the things that came out of it was a sense that those "on the other side" were encouraging me to do more with my writing, whether professionally or just as a hobby, I'm not sure. My intuition tells me that my spirits were less interested in suggesting to me a new way to make money than just getting me to do something that I enjoy and brings me happiness.

I wish that I could say I've been more successful.

Writing more is something that is constantly on my mind. I try to think of blog entries, story ideas, essay ideas, on a daily basis. And I do occasionally post some of the above here. My problem (one of them, anyway) is that I've yet to find a way to consistently write and make that writing interesting and relevant. My daily life isn't particularly rich writing fare; get up, go to work, come home, maybe catch a quick nap, do laundry, dishes, bills, cleaning and errands as need be, maybe talk to a friend or two online or in person or on the phone, watch some TV then get ready for bed again. It's not a tortuous life, but it's also not one that lends itself easily to daily blogs that really mean anything to anyone beyond me, or have any kind of resonance. I have written at length about certain topics; my grief over my mom, my conflicted feelings over my brother and the relationship we had, my apprehension over being in my forties and alone in a world that's changed so radically in the past few years, for me and the world in general. I write about holidays, about things that spark my interest in the media, about memories from childhood, about movies, and other forms of mass media like comics and television.

I enjoy writing about all these things but if I continually dip into those wells I fear I might end up repeating myself, one of the cardinal sins of writers. So I not only have to battle the physical and psychological weariness that comes from living a life beyond writing, but also the urge to rehash subjects and pieces I've already written about. It's a daunting challenge, but one I have to face and triumph over.

I know that this may easily come off as a long piece of rationalization, and in truth, that may be a large part of it. But I was just thinking today about how I haven't lived up to the encouragement that my deceased but still loving and involved family has given me regarding my writing. I often think about dream scenarios that would allow me to have more time and energy to write; winning the lottery, scoring a brand new job that had better pay and took up less of my time and energy. But even then I'd still have to struggle with the "originality" issue. That's something that has to be resolved on an internal basis, and of the two, may actually be the tougher hurdle to clear.

I waste too much time. Whereas many people throw themselves into practical activity when they have downtime, I tend to be far too passive and sit in front of the television or computer and while hours upon hours away. I rationalize this by saying that "I'm tired" or "just a few more minutes" but ultimately these are urges I need to curtail. There's no cosmic scoreboard that is keeping track of my wasted time versus constructive time, and no one is going to penalize me directly if I continue to waste time. But what I know in my heart is that by doing so, I'm penalizing myself by not utilizing the gifts I've received in this life and in turn, sharing them with others. I'm hiding myself away from who I truly am, fearful that if that true self is revealed to the world, I'll have the responsibility of "being" that self day after day, and I'm afraid that perhaps I won't be able to live up to that on a daily basis. It's a fear that I'm sure I'm not alone in, but the fact that probably millions of people face and overcome this fear all the time shames me into trying to truly do something about it.

To my family, my watchful spirits who I know love me and care about me, I'm sorry. I will try to do better. I know that you want the best for me and tried to give me direction during my reading and I deeply appreciate it. I'll try to be the man I want to be, and I'll try to follow your blessed advice and pursue my creative self, regardless of the difficulty I sometimes have in doing so. I'll try to focus on those things that give me a sense of self-satisfaction, those things that would enrich and better the world and make you proud of me (though I realize you are already proud of me). I if I have to repeat myself, I'll do so. If I have to skip a sandwich or a mediocre television show, I'll do it. Writing is really part of who I am, despite the fact that I often ignore that fact. I know that you already know how hard it is for me each day, so I won't complain or obfuscate or dissemble. I'll just keep my eyes open and do what comes naturally to me; and I'll thank you for reminding me of who I am and can be if I only believe in myself.

Someday I want to be able to share with you the story of what my life has become in person, and I think that conversation will be a lot richer if I am happy and fulfilled in my daily pursuits. I am thankful for the gift of my life, and I promise I'll try each day to not take that gift for granted.

The Man in the Iron Suit

A successful "Marvel comic to film" adaptation requires three things; one, the ability to capture the sense of fun and wonder that those classic Marvels always embodied, two, a willingness to deal with a larger theme of inner conflict that invariably deepened Stan Lee's creations, and three, the casting has to make sense.

I'm happy to report that "Iron Man" passes muster on all three counts.

"Iron Man" begins with a lengthy but fast paced and meaningful origin sequence that features cocksure "boy genius" Tony Stark being captured in Afghanistan by rebels who are using the very technology that Stark designs and markets. The rebels exort him to create a version of his latest weapon, the Jericho missle, whereupon he will be released, though Stark realizes he'll never make it out of the prison camp alive. Adding to his woes is the fact that he's been injured in a way that places deadly shrapnel perilously close to his heart, and is only surviving by an ad hoc invention of a fellow prisoner and scientist that keeps the shrapnel from moving. Stark manages to improve upon this crude life saving device using some of his own technology (this is, admittedly, a marvellously well equipped and advanced rebel prison camp) and, after a dark night of the soul contemplating both his father's ethos and his own, sets about trying to simultaneously escape and devise some means to address the wrong direction his life has taken. A carefree, reckless playboy who lives in a rarefied bubble of cheap sex, booze and high tech gadgets, Stark has never faced or even acknowledged the real life effects of his inventions, nor has he kept a very close eye on what they were being used for, or by whom. Fashioning a crude prototype of what will become a fully operational metal body suit capable of flight, self defense, supersonic speed and amazing strength, Stark sets out to do just this.

Jon Favreau's "Iron Man" works on nearly all levels, founded by a truly inspired and letter perfect performance by Robert Downey Jr. as Stark. Downey was a marvelous choice, keying in on the various seminal aspects of Stark's character, his arrogant intelligence, his impetuousness, his sense of duty and his need to honor his father's legacy, and his sense of boyish glee as he tests drives his inventions and finds his own identity in the world. It's a remarkably joyful performance, and to Downey's credit he plays it for all its worth, respecting the material and lending it a real credibility. One test for me of a successful performance is always the question "Can you imagine anyone else in this role?" and in this case, I absolutely cannot.

The rest of the cast was likewise well chosen. It's still jarring to think of Jeff Bridges ("Lightfoot!") as the "old guy villain" but he plays Obadiah Stane with equal parts congeniality, smarminess, cold calculation and outright menace. I also enjoyed Terrance Howard as Stark's loyal but skeptical best friend, Jim Rhodes, Shaun Toub as Stark's fellow prisoner who has a huge influence on him, and Faran Tahir as the leader of the Talibanish group that captures Stark is perfect at conveying ambition and ruthlessness. Gwyneth Paltrow also worked well as "Pepper" Potts, Stark's gal Friday and maybe love interest, though their potential romance marked the film's one sour note for me. Both leads were appealing, but for some reason their scenes together seemed forced, full of the quasi hip, rat a tat dialogue of "Friends" and "West Wing". If and when there's a sequel, I'd advise the writers to just let the dialogue be more natural and less self consciously clever.

There's a geeky thrill factor to this film that works quite well, too. Who wouldn't love to have a magical suit that flies, is nearly invulnerable, hurls flamethrowers and ultra powerful repulsor rays, and makes the wearer super strong? The sequence where Iron Man tracks down some of Stark's technology to the same group of radicals that captured him (and is now tormenting a innocent villagers) is particularly rewarding. Iron Man acts as a kind of vengeance seeking angel whose technology matches the radicals' every craven move, and his absolute trouncing of them is shamelessly invigorating.

But underneath that escapist comic book ride, there's something deeper being said about taking responsibility for your life and moving past a reckless youth and into a period of adulthood and maturity. I've heard rumblings about a political subtext here (i.e. "American foreign policy is flawed by shortsightedness and inconsistency") but I really saw it as a much more general theme of dealing with the consequences of your own actions and owning up to your own culpability in the world's imperfection. These themes aren't pounded home ponderously, and there's some nice bits of humor to lighten the mood at appropriate times (the fire extinguisher robot scenes are priceless, as are most of the scenes between Stark and Rhodes).

The effects of "Iron Man" are, not surprisingly, state of the art. The suit is sleek but faithful to the comic, and the Stane robot is truly formidable and monstrous, a huge clanking behemoth of metal and malevolence. But the effects are not overdone, allowing the story to take its rightful place at center stage. There are only three major "suit" scenes (not including the prototype's scene) but each one is essential to the narrative and again, never allows us to forget the man inside the suit.

That's something that Stan Lee never allowed his readers to forget either, and I can't think of any higher praise than to say that this film could has Lee's fingerprints all over it, from its relevance to its kinetic action, from its humor to its humanity. Even the quasi-shocker ending is vintage Lee, leaving the viewer (reader) to wait with bated breath for the next exciting chapter.

The True Magic

Live magic has a lot of hurdles to climb these days.

Most of the tricks, in some form or another, have been revealed on those horrible Fox TV shows where blabbermouth disgruntled magicians show exactly how they are done and destroy any sense of wonder you might otherwise enjoy from the show. For the most part, it seems as though the magicians are doing the same tricks over and over anyway; they're always pulling something out of a hat, or messing around with linked rings, or making themselves or an assistant disappear or playing with colored handkerchiefs. It's also a very antiquated form of entertainment. In this age of YouTube and Facebook and Bluetooth, a show comprised largely of sleight of hand illusions and mirror misdirection is really fighting an uphill battle to hold an audience's attention. The two Davids (Copperfield and Blaine) notwithstanding, the artform hasn't evolved significantly in over a hundred years. If kids today are even capable of marvelling at anything, it's more likely to be at the newest development in CGI technology to supplement their virtual video game or effects laden Hollywood release. The guys with the tuxedos and rabbits and doves probably seem, forgive the horrible pun, hopelessly old hat to them by now.

Despite these daunting odds, I saw a live magic show this weekend and really enjoyed it.

There were essentially two acts, with the host of the program putting in a cameo appearance about halfway through as a "visiting Russian czar/magician". The first act was a young fellow who couldn't have been over the age of 30 who utilized modern music to supplement a razzle dazzle show with disappearing doves, light effects and sleight of hand illusions. The second, a more seasoned prestidigitator, worked mainly with handkerchiefs, bottles and linking rings, and his performance also incorporated music, albeit from a somewhat earlier era. There was, to be honest, nothing groundbreaking or "envelope pushing" about the show. I had seen these tricks, or ones very much like them, many other times in my life. The show was short, clocking in at just under an hour and a quarter, and at $25, it wasn't particularly cheap, either.

And it worked for me.

The show was a terrific touchstone to the great and often unappreciated history of live entertainment, featuring acts that did something that no CGI effects, no well edited motion picture, no slickly produced television show or intensely marketed video game could do. It connected the performers (and the performances) with the audience, and accented humanity over technology. There weren't any laser effects, or explosions or deaths or envelope pushing technology of any sort, but what there WAS was several flesh and blood human beings onstage by themselves, just a few feet separating them from a crowd that was no doubt scanning for any and all signs of fakery, and just pure nerve and bravado backing up their skill and practice. That type of "seat of the pants" dynamic is almost unheard of today. Even live musical performances sometimes feature lipsyncing, and in general the audiences at those performances are further away from the performers and aren't made a part of the show.

The interaction of the performers with the audience also helped to foster this "human touch" as well. Several audience members were recruited by the magicians to assist in various tricks, and each time the audience connected not only with the performers but with the "recruits" as well. After the show, the performers waited outside the theatre exit to shake hands with the audience members and chat with them. People interacting with people; it seems obvious and a bit corny, but that type of shared community experience has a unique value in a society. For all the wonderful advances of science, it has not and never will be able to replace the eternally nourishing phenomenon of people growing stronger and closer because of events that remind them of their common bonds. This can be a dramatic event, a crisis like severe weather or national crisis like 9/11, or it can be on a much smaller scale, a community coming together to celebrate a holiday or a wedding, or even a magic show.

We are all understandably thankful for the marvelous advances and freedoms that technology has wrought in our society. No longer do we have to be restricted to one television set that only has four or five channels and is only on the air for eight hours a day. We can all accumulate massive collections of our favorite songs and listen to them at our leisure. Very recent Hollywood releases can now be viewed at home within a few short month of their theatrical premieres, and you can watch them whenever and largely, wherever you want. All of these advances have been tremendously beneficial in allowing for freedom of personal choice and access to entertainment material. Our entertainment choices are truly at our fingertips today, and in many ways that's a positive development.

Such advances have also had the unfortunate effect of making us much more isolated from each other, less in touch with the community of human beings around us, not only locally, but nationally and moreover, worldwide. If you have your own television set and iPod and iPhone, you're much less likely to have to compromise on what content to enjoy and less likely indeed to even experience entertainment with other people.

Live entertainment renews that lost sense of community by drawing together large groups of people and allowing them to share a good time, to move through an experience as a whole. It puts us in close contact with performers and forces us to appreciate the time, energy and skill they put into their acts. It fosters conversation, interaction and just a general sense of belonging that can never be equalled by entertainment that can be experienced alone.

While we can and should appreciate all the modern marvels of technology, timeless entertainment like live magic is a wonderful place to revisit as often as possible. Besides giving us something different to pass the time and putting us in touch with the long history of similar live entertainment, it keeps us all in touch entertainment's most important purpose, the joy of being alive, of being human, and the wonderful comfort that comes from sharing that feeling with others.