I really do have a confession to make. For some of you, this will be the dumbest waste of time ever. For others, who were there, well…I don’t know what you are going to think.

Several years ago, I guess about 4 years ago (give or take a year), I made a joke that continues to make me feel guilty occasionally. Here’s what it was:

While Pope John Paul II was sick, and in his last days, I mocked him. I made a little paper Pope hat, or “mitre,” stood up on the church balcony (not during church mind you, as there were about 25 people there) waving a “pope-like wave.” Then I dropped dead. A lot of people were watching me and laughing at me. You see, in those days, I was fond of mocking all things Catholic; not only Catholic, but anything smacking of liturgy at all. I had an agenda, and it was to break down tradition and liturgy. Most of my family is devout Catholic, so my problem was not with Catholics, as much as all tradition.

Well, as it turns out, probably only a week later, Pope John Paul II died.

By no means, do I assume I killed the Pope. My joke was not intended to be malicious, even though it seems obviously malicious; no, it was more just flippancy and disrespect. Just trying to make people laugh.

Now, in some manner of ironic justice, I have been led to a path…an expression of my Christian faith which embraces aspects of liturgy. I now do the sign of the cross, something I use to make fun of. I use a prayer rope (different than a rosary) in many prayers, often reciting the Jesus Prayer in repetition. I have several rosaries because I find them beautiful now. I spend much of my time studying and reading Catholic and Orthodox monks and theologians. I have a great deal of respect for Pope Benedict, and retrospectively, John Paul II.

I do not feel condemned for my ignorance. However, I occasionally feel sad that I could have ever been so closed-minded, so disrespectful. I use that as a lesson. To remember that there are many beautiful expressions of faith in Christ.

Some of you who were there for that display (my Masters Commission friends) may look on that as a funny memory. No doubt, it was funny at the time. But I just want it to be known, publicly, that I no longer see that as a good memory. It is shameful. And this is my public confession of it.

My personal opinion of Scorsese (the director, in case you are unaware) is very very high.  Both 1980′s “Raging Bull” and 1976′s “Taxi Driver” are probably in my top 15 greatest american films ever made, with Raging Bull being in the top 10 greatest ever for ANY country without a single doubt.  I cannot express to you the brilliance that is Scorsese and DeNiro in Raging Bull.  I simply can’t.  So I don’t necessarily agree with the authors view of these early works, though I can appreciate what he is saying.

What I found most interesting about this letter is the references to Steven Spielberg.  And in those references I agree completely with him.  Scorsese as the Rolling Stones and Spielberg as The Beatles is a great reference.  I am a Spielberg fanboy, without a doubt.  It is fashionable in some critical circles to dismiss Spielberg as being a populist filmmaker with diminishing artistic talent.  Ridiculous.  Anyway.  Read.

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Bless me, father, for I don’t get Scorsese

In reading some of the reviews and excerpts of your new Scorsese book, I finally “got” what it is that you get about his work: Catholic identification. I’m sure other people have said the same thing over the years, but for some reason, it only just clicked with me. Because this is exactly why I never really got Scorsese.

For me, he’s always been pretty uneven. But, in contrast to most, I think he’s become a much better filmmaker with age, whereas others prefer his early work. Not to be misunderstood — I’m not slagging him, not at all. I just think that my initial education of Scorsese (aside from “The Color of Money”), came about while I was in high school in the early-’90s, which was the same time that, due to both “Goodfellas”‘ acclaim and “Raging Bull” being named the best picture of the ’80s, he had become the impenetrable critics’ choice for greatest working American director. At that time, comparing his library with that of other filmmakers (Kubrick, Coppola, Spielberg, Allen, etc.), I felt forced to take an honest contrarian position — one that became entrenched during the ’90s, as his reputation held, even though the quality of his films simply didn’t live up to that title (perhaps because he was now actively seeking to live up to this mantle). How could Scorsese be the best when Spielberg released “Jurassic Park,” “Schindler’s List” and “Saving Private Ryan” during that same decade? (Or, in this decade, “A.I.,” “Catch Me If You Can,” “Minority Report,” and depending on your views, “Munich” and “War of the Worlds.”)

The reason I never appreciated Scorsese’s Catholicism — and what everybody found so astonishing about its representation — is because I simply didn’t relate to
it. On any level. My parents were both agnostic, and I’ve been my entire life; never had my mind shaped through any kind of religious dogma. And that’s something quite different than somebody who was born and raised a Christian, then later decided through education and experience that agnosticism was a more proper position — no matter what you ultimately choose to believe (or not believe), that youthful indoctrination is always going to remain in the back of your mind. In this sense, I simply don’t understand any of the so-called profundity that’s supposedly on display — sin, guilt, morality, blood sacrifice — because these things, from a purely untainted mind, don’t mean anything. Makes about as much sense as Zeus.

This is probably why, even before I knew anything about Kubrick’s background, I gravitated toward his world: It felt more highly evolved. Only later did I realize just how similar our backgrounds were: We’re both of Jewish heredity, though raised without any religious identity, both terrible students who didn’t go to college/film school, both self-taught, etc. Basically, free-thinking autodidacts.

As well, I tended to prefer filmmakers whom I believed had solved the problems laid out for themselves in making their movies. There was always an unmistakable confidence of execution in the work of Coppola or Spielberg or later the Coens. With Scorsese, however, I always saw insecurity: For all their labor, his movies felt fussy like they were never quite finished. You could see the agonizing conflict of
decision-making in his craft (something that many people claim as evidence of his effort). I used to remark when I was young that I could still see the grease pencil marks on his movies. Later, I read that his two biggest American influences were Welles and Cassavettes — and those opposing aesthetics said it all.

(Interestingly, I once saw a documentary about Kubrick in which Scorsese recalled the epiphany he had upon first learning that K had started as a still photographer: He finally understood the controlled framing and ability to distill information and meaning into single images. For me, this was ironic, because as a kid when I was first familiarizing myself with Scorsese’s movies, I kept thinking that it appeared as if he had never taken any still photos.)

The other thing was that, as an artist myself, I was always of the position that artists should be creative and not repeat themselves. Most of the filmmakers I admired were constantly trying to redefine subjects and aesthetics picture to picture, but with Scorsese, all I saw was New York and petty crime (with a couple of exceptions) over and over with the same actors over and over. I kept thinking: What didn’t he get about this already? Scorsese was more like the blues and rock musicians he admired, in that he developed a signature style that he’s played his whole career. That said, if Scorsese was The Rolling Stones of his generation, then Spielberg was The Beatles. (Somebody once suggested to me that the Stones were the greatest rock band ever, but that The Beatles were the greatest recording artists ever.)

Anyhow.

Jamie Stuart is a New York-based filmmaker and the operator of mutinycompany.com. His most recent project was the web series “NYFF46,” which was created for Filmmaker Magazine.

Forrest Gump - Tom Hanks

Pulp Fiction - John Travolta

The Shawshank Redemption - Morgan Freeman

The Madness of King George - Nigel Hawthorne

Nobody’s Fool - Paul Newman

I have bolded Nigel Hawthorne, who played the insane, incompetent, loose canon King George.  I also bolded Tom Hanks who played the lovable, but slow-witted Forrest Gump.

This is tonight’s VP debate.  One is an old man.  Arrogant.  Mean.  Crazy.  The other is a cute woman.  Slow.  Dim.  Unable to communicate clearly.

Let the race begin.

I am becoming convinced that the thorn in the side of humankind is selfishness.  All other things stem from this.  This is not a very profound thought, and not especially original; but from time to time we must be reminded of it.  I was provoked by my friend Mikke’s Myspace Blog, in which he really expresses a great deal of anger over some issues.  Unless you are involved in the situation, you will not understand what he is talking about, but nonetheless you can deduce from the writing what he is trying to say.  People are ambitious.  All people are ambitious and work toward their own fame and riches…and all people have to struggle against the selfish impulse.  This includes Mikke, myself, and the people Mikke is referring to.  We all share something in common:  the fallen nature.

Mikke’s blog challenged me.  Though he wasn’t referring to me (I don’t think), the Spirit of Almighty God used his words to speak to me regarding selfishness in my life.  Though I do not actively seek to control and crush others like those that Mikke was criticizing…I do forget to put others first.

I have very well thought out theology, I think.  In many ways I have settled down on many beliefs, which is nice, because I have spent many years wrestling.  It’s nice to believe some things deeply in my heart.  Where I have struggled in the last year or two is putting into practice some of these beliefs.  Living in my head.  Ugh!  God help me.

Selfishness.  It’s a bitch.  And ultimately, it is the antithesis of the spirit of Christ.  God help me.  God help me.

MY LOVES

I love to see the big white moon,

A-shining in the sky;

I love to see the little stars,

When the shadow clouds go by.

I love the rain drops falling

On my roof-top in the night;

I love the soft wind’s sighing,

Beforethe dawn’s gray light.

I love the deepness of the blue,

In my Lord’s heaven above;

But better than all these things I think,

I love my lady love.

There has been great joy in actually thinking through what I am going to eat.  Whether it is at home or out, I have to look through the whole menu and discern what I “can eat.”  It is a refreshing change.

I will definitely be taking some time soon to decide exactly when I want to make the big leap.  All I know is that before I do there are a few places I have to eat at before I say goodbye to them.  Tommy’s cheesesteak…Smoker’s pulled pork BBQ…Chik-Fil-A…Emmings Fried Chicken…etc…etc…

To further clarify, I am most likely not going full-on Veggie, because as it stands I have no moral qualms with eating most fish.

Literary Analysis

American Lit 1:  Beginnings to 1860′s

Chaucer

College Algebra

Okay, I’m not excited about the Math class, though it is essentially the simplest Math I could take this semester.  Mathematics and I do not, shall we say?, get along very well.  As a matter of fact, we hate each others guts.  You know what, I’m just gonna come out and say it:  Math…you are a sonofabitch.  There, I said it.  Having said that, I am going to try on some positive thinking this semester in regard to my Math class, so… I will be okay.

The other class that has me slightly nervous is Chaucer.  I am excited about it, and genuinely interested in the material that the class will cover, especially “The Canterbury Tales.”  However, I am almost certain that the class will not be easy, by any stretch of the imagination.  That is fine.  I like a challenge, and none of my spring classes were particularly difficult (though all of them were quite interesting), so this may be a welcome change.  Dr. Leasure emailed the syllabus yesterday.  It is intimidating.  There are something like 3 essays and 3 exams throughout the semester, which is enough to keep you on your toes, but not over-the-top stressed.  The real intriguing part is a double-edged sword:  Every Thursday will be a study of Middle-English language.  In case you don’t know, Chaucer wrote in heavy Middle-English, which is essentially another language.  We will, apparently, be studying this in depth; the history, the origin, the theory, pronunciation, and memorization.  This all sounds incredibly interesting, but also difficult and intensive.  All in all, it sounds like it will be a rewarding class, but that reward will be earned.

It will be a good semester.  I’m sure a good deal of my writing in this blog will be based in my studies over the next nine months.  So be ready.

Going to see Pineapple Express tonight.  I’m quite excited about it.

    1)  The Dark Knight may be the preeminent post-9/11 film.  Since that day, there have been a good number of movies dealing directly or indirectly with the politics, fears, and social/moral/psychological climate of our world.  But as with every other major event since the invention of motion pictures, there are certain movies that are truly born out of a time.  Often, they are not even explicitly about an event.  I consider Coppola’s The Conversation and Friedkin’s The Exorcist to be the definitive post-Vietnam films, for reasons that would have to be covered in another essay.  They are films that are clearly not about anything political specifically, but they certainly have Vietnam and social upheaval running through their veins; they are reactions to, or mirror images of, their times.  I think there are a few films to have been released since 9/11 which bear the same spirit.  They are:

     The Dark Knight

     Munich

     War of the Worlds      (Spielberg)

     28 Weeks Later

   2)   Are some Hollywood blockbusters becoming the “new indie films”?  A while back, film fans were sick of brainless Hollywood fare, and they [we] turned in droves to small indie films (for the sake of the argument, let’s not get into the complexity involved in defining “indie”).  Fastforward a little while, and movies like Little Miss Sunshine and Juno are making a ton of cash off of quirky characters set to folksy indie music.  Let it be know that I actually really liked both of those movies, but let’s be honest…there is now an “indie-film formula.”  There’s no real shame in that…hell, it happens to the best of ‘em.

        An interesting thing happened in 2003.  Disney released Pirates of the Caribbean:  Curse of the Black Pearl, a film which was waaaaayyy more fun than should be legal, featured mind blowing special effects, the budget of a small country, a slew of big stars, and a risky, nuanced, manic performance by Johnny Depp, an actor who has been admired for years in smaller, bat-shit crazy movies. but never proven in a big budget action movie.  Wait-what was that last part?   ” …a risky, nuanced, manic performance by Johnny Depp..”  Yes, that’s right…I am convinced that movies like Iron Man, The Dark Knight, Hellboy, and yes, even WALL*E owe their very existence to Johnny Depp’s Captain Jack Sparrow.  It has happened to lesser extents in the past, but with Disney’s trust of Depp and what he was doing, the doors were opened for other movies with big budgets to think outside of the “safety box.”

       I’m sorry.  I went on for way longer than I thought.  The point is to ask the question:  are big Hollywood movies experiencing a Renaissance?  More on this at some point, so hopefully I have whet your appetite.