What does one of the most prolific movie directors of our time think about life?

“I have a very grim, pessimistic view of it [life]. I always have since I was a little boy. It hasn’t gotten worse with age or anything. I do feel that it’s a grim, painful, nightmarish, meaningless experience, and the only way you can be happy is if you . . . deceive yourself.” (National Post)

Although the author of the article describes Allen’s take on life as “frank, philosophical and funny,” I’m hard-pressed to find much that is funny about it.

It is perhaps somewhat ironic that a celebrity who seemingly has had it all would have such a depressing view of life. Yet Allen, who “famously said he wants to achieve immortality not through his work but by not dying,” noted that “My relationship with death remains the same. I’m strongly against it.” So although life, according to him, is grim, painful, nightmarish, and meaningless, it apparently still beats the alternative.

Although he claims to see no point in life, he nevertheless admits a yearning of some sort for immortality. Is it possible that these desires, these cravings for meaning and purpose, are not accidents, but actually serve to point us toward greatness that goes beyond the grim, painful, nightmarish, meaningless experience that Allen describes?

In author Erwin McManus’ book Soul Cravings, he describes how three interwoven cravings (for intimacy, meaning, and destiny) are shared by all human beings, and what these things tell us about this life and how to live it to its fullest. Choose which of the three resonates most with you to watch a short video on the topic: Intimacy Meaning Destiny

Do you share Woody Allen’s outlook on life? Are you willing to “deceive yourself” in order to find happiness, or is there a way to accept the truth of the world and yet find the meaning that seems to elude him? I hope that Mr Allen hasn’t yet given up his search for meaning and destiny, and that you haven’t either. If you’d like to talk to someone about it privately, please let us know via email.

Image source: Wikipedia Commons

Millions have found the book and movie to be a fun and inspirational tale.

In reply to the question “When is it Wrong to Watch a Movie?” in one of our recent posts, one visitor named Michael replied with what I think is a sensible stance for Christians to take with regards to how we should approach consumption of media:

The question my family asks is ‘What is the intent of the movie?” If it a vehicle for blasphemy (Religiosity), pornography, or mindless violence (Saw), then we do not watch. If there a part of a movie that is offensive, we fast forward through the part.

The question is: Does Eat Pray Love, the movie adapted from the best-selling book by Elizabeth Gilbert (based on her real-life experiences) meet this criteria? The movie has received mixed reviews from critics (as of this writing it’s received a 39% average rating at RottenTomatoes) and a pretty scathing review from ChristianAnswers.net. An excerpt:

The film’s main offense is its false spiritual message, which is very heavy throughout the film. … There are several scenes of meditation, worshiping and singing to a Hindu guru and the temple’s idols. There’s also a lot of talk of “god.” Would this higher power include the God of the Bible? Absolutely not. During her first prayer, Liz asks “god” to give her a sign, which she takes to divorce her husband. … Christians should stay far away from this movie. Gilbert traveled around the world searching and found nothing.

This reviewer suggests that there is “no redeemable quality to this film” but surely there must be something good within it, some positive message that could be taken from it, or at least points which could be used as transition into talking about God’s more important spiritual truths?

Have you read the book or seen the movie? Do you agree with this reviewer’s assessment? Would you encourage Christians to watch the movie, and why or why not?

If like Liz in Eat Pray Love you have been facing difficult struggles in your marriage and need someone to talk with about it who will be patient and keep things confidential, please contact a mentor today to start the conversation. If you would like prayer, please contact a prayer partner.

Upcoming online chats: Join us for daily online chats! One of our features will be “Finding Inner Peace ” on August 22 at 9:00 pm EDT Please join us to discuss how you can find peace within.

V for Vendetta is a 2005 action/thriller movie based on a comic book. It received generally good reviews from critics, but since it’s rated “R”, it’s not intended for anyone under 18 years old. That’s why, when one of the deacons from my church popped it into the DVD player on the bus filled with church members (including a dozen or more kids under 18) on the way to our fall church retreat, I was a bit surprised. As you might expect from a movie with the word “vendetta” in the title, it contains many violent scenes, not to mention anarchist ideology and other scenes inappropriate for children.

Was it wrong to show this movie to teens? Was it wrong to show it at all on a church sponsored excursion? And how should Christians decide what we should and shouldn’t watch? That’s the topic of a thoughtful article at Relevant Magazine titled “When Is Watching a Movie Wrong?” Here are some highlights:

In the Bible, Christians are instructed to dwell on things that are excellent and worthy of praise – “whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable …” (Philippians 4:8, TNIV). We should pay attention to this instruction, but what does it all mean? Who defines “true,” “noble,” “right,” “pure,” “lovely” and “admirable”? What does it mean for something to be edifying? Can something painful and disturbing be as edifying as something innocent and joyful?

Is it a coincidence that, in the list of things “to dwell on” that Paul outlines in Philippians 4, “whatever is true” comes first? I don’t think so.

One of the crucial functions of art is certainly the way it captures, frames and confronts us with truth in all of its messy glory. But some will protest: Do we really need to be reminded of life’s most disturbing truths through art?

How do you make decisions about what is and isn’t okay to watch in a movie? What kinds of violence, sex, etc are acceptable (if any) and why?

Related: Love doesn’t often work out like in the movies, and is often misrepresented. Learn How you can Love by Faith

Religion

It is the shortened life span of earthly redemption that leads most to their need for ultimate, or spiritual, redemption.

I just watched the movie Aeon Flux because, except for renting Kill Bill, the new film genre of fashion model as psychotic assassin had all but passed me by. Here is the Aeon Flux plot. People are cloned after they die, so they never really die: death is a commercial break between reruns. But the movie has a happy ending: a cure is found, the practice of perpetual cloning is brought to an end, and people can once again return to the “hope” of death, not having to contend with the wearisome aspects of continued existence.

I sometimes volunteer at the hospital near my house. I’m not sure what philosophy student wrote the screenplay for Aeon Flux, but I assure you that the prospect of nonexistence is not a comforting thought to those on their deathbed. It is only comforting in the abstract, and if there is one thing a deathbed is not, it is abstract. And it is for this reason that most people eventually seek out spiritual redemption.

But where does one go for spiritual redemption? Usually to one of the major religions, unless you’re really wealthy, like Cher or Madonna; then you can create your own.

What one finds in religion, though, is not redemption but the possibility or path to redemption. Certain activities are required, and if you choose an Eastern version, certain lifetimes are required. But that which we seek—acceptance before God—is elusive. Have we done enough? What is the criterion or cut-off point —1,234 good deeds? What if we’re one short? Will a pilgrimage be required? Have we earned it? Have we arrived? The result is that religion infuses us with guilt —there must be some commandment we’re in the process of breaking—and our guilt is assuaged only by judging others, for if someone is morally beneath us, we must be closer to the top, closer to redemption.

It’s like we are on one side of a canyon and God is on the other, and we are constantly building bridges to get to the other side, only to find that whatever bridge we have chosen—philosophy, religion, social justice—cannot possibly span the distance.

Grace

Then into the universe enters grace: true redemption and not simply the promise of it. In Jesus Christ, God does for us what we could never do for ourselves—dying for our sins and applying to us his perfect life—and that is as close to a definition for grace as we’re ever likely to find. Our part of redemption is making a decision to humble ourselves and accept God’s hand out of the mire, to place faith in Jesus Christ, to consent to be redeemed.

I’m not sure there is any one way to do that. If you’re Catholic or Episcopalian, I think it’s supposed to happen at Confirmation. But most people aren’t all that concerned with redemption at age thirteen.

As in a marriage, there’s any number of ways to say your vows. I eloped, so I wouldn’t really know. I simply said “I do” to a justice of the peace, and that was it. I believe that’s about all I said to God.

As a freshman in college, lying in my bed, reading one of those green Gideon Bibles people give you, I said “I do” to Christ. Actually, what I said was something like “Jesus, I want to know you. I want you to forgive my sins. I want you to change and direct my life. I want eternal life, and I believe you can do all of these things—that you will do all of these things.”

A simple prayer, followed by redemption. And as you’ve probably figured out already, it was that change in my life that has animated this book. As a recipient of grace, I feel somewhat constrained to explain it to others, to explain it to you. If redemption is what you really seek, then simply express that to God in your own words —or feel free to use mine.

In some entrepreneurial states you can still redeem your old aluminum cans. You take your empty Fresca six-packs to a redemption center, and they’ll give you money—nice, shiny money. This is as it should be. This is the theology of redemption. The moment you make that decision, the moment you say “I do,” Christ takes your sin and credits you with his righteousness. Not the hope of redemption. Redemption.

“I tell you the truth, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life and will not be condemned; he has crossed over from death to life” (John 5:24).

Back to the start of Redemption 1.2.

Rick James was formerly employed on Madison Avenue, as an art director at the advertising agency of Young and Rubicam. He has a BFA from Syracuse University and an MDiv. from Trinity seminary. Rick is now publisher of a small Press and lives in West Chester, Pennsylvania with his wife and three teenage children.
Used by the permission of the author.

In the movie Cinderella Man, Russell Crowe plays Jim Braddock, a boxer who through  injury, bad breaks, and the Great Depression finds himself in a life-and-death struggle to keep his family from submerging so far below the poverty line that they cease to exist as a family. They stoop so low, so eye level with the gutter, that Jim Braddock sells all he owns, surrenders his pride, and begs enough money to keep his electricity on and his family together.

Upon Braddock’s having reached the bottom (which is the neighborhood where redemption lives), his old boxing manager offers him a fight and a stepladder out of misery. Braddock enters the ring as a changed man. He is reborn with purpose and motivation, able to break free from the gravity of failure. He fights his way to the heavyweight championship and is vindicated before the entire country—Jim Braddock is resurrected.

Scratch that. I think a better scene is in Shawshank Redemption when Tim Robbins (playing Andy Dufresne) emerges from the sewage pipe, allowing the rain of freedom to wash over and cleanse him. And redemption, of course, is never more powerful than when Morgan Freeman narrates it.

We could, in fact, list hundreds of movies and songs with the same theme, for as I said, it is pervasive to the point of being a myth or a Jungian type. It is the story we always hear and never tire of hearing. Redemption is ? in the human equation.

Spiritual Redemption

While a prominent theme in and of itself, spiritual redemption does not tug at the heart the way its temporal sibling does, but that owes itself more to the illusion born out of movies than it does to reality.

Here’s what I mean by that. When any Jim Braddock story ends, the camera stops filming immediately after the temporal redemption has occurred: a gratifying moment of vindication before the credits roll. Which is nice, as far as it goes.

But in the real world, such redemption is always momentary —a snapshot—as life continues on after the climactic scene wraps. The love that brought temporal redemption grows cold, bitter, or maybe just stagnant until it’s just two octogenarians staring without conversation over black coffee at 11:00 a.m. in McDonalds. Or maybe there’s an affair a decade later. Or one of the partners dies early, leaving the other, twenty years of loneliness in a nursing home.

Relationships, bodies, success all grow gangrenous over time. All vehicles of temporal redemption are themselves subject to decay.

Like many writers, I am subject to bouts of depression. During one of my extended wakes (depressions), I turned to tobacco. Thank God for tobacco, or whatever they lace it with, because it brought relief, parole from my darkened cell. Tobacco is the workingman’s antidepressant. Some years later, though, a doctor’s exam showed a precancerous growth, which led to the realization that the tobacco equation doesn’t balance—the joy of smoking is never equivalent to the agony of quitting.

The point being this: the means of temporary deliverance contained within itself the terminal seeds of cancer. And so it is with all temporal means of redemption—a job, money, success, relationships. They tug us out of one tire rut, only to drag us into the other, for the camera of life is always rolling, always rolling.

Read more about Redemption 1.2.

Rick James was formerly employed on Madison Avenue, as an art director at the advertising agency of Young and Rubicam. He has a BFA from Syracuse University and an MDiv. from Trinity seminary. Rick is now publisher of a small Press and lives in West Chester, Pennsylvania with his wife and three teenage children.

Used by the permission of the author.

Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where Shadows lie.
One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.
In the Land of Mordor where Shadows lie.’

In 1937, a professor of languages at Oxford University penned a novel that would spark the greatest fiction the world has ever known. That man was John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, or J.R.R. Tolkien. The book was called “The Hobbit.”

The book tells of a hobbit named Bilbo Baggins, who lives in a hole in the ground — not a dank, wet, nasty hole, but a comfortable hole, a hobbit hole. Bilbo is pushed by the wizard Gandalf out of a hobbit’s preferred quiet existence and simple enjoyment of food and life; Bilbo is swept into an adventure with dwarves and elves, dragons and gold.

Tolkien created a ring in this book, and this ring sparked another, greater tale, that has captured our hearts and imaginations for more than five decades.

One Book to Rule Them All, One Film to Bind Them All

Movies were made, but never captured the hearts and minds of the public the way the books did. The trilogy called The Lord Of The Rings was so great and so beautiful in its imagery and writing, that creating a movie was too daunting of a task. Along came director Peter Jackson, a round little man who reminds many of a Hobbit, undertook the translation of the books to film. The result was nothing short of stunning.

Of course, I am biased. I was a fan of the books before the name Peter Jackson meant anything. Though I cannot speak Elvish fluently, I could tell you the meaning of the line “ash nazg durbatuluuk ash nazg gimbatul ash nazg thrakatuluuk ash burzum-ishi krimpatul.” I could tell you that Tolkien penned an entire language for that single line. He created not just characters, but an entire world, complete with its own histories, spanned across 12 volumes (13 if you include the Silmarilion).

While not everyone is a fan of Tolkien’s writing style, his attention to detail made his books a wonderful classic of which everyone has heard, even if they have never read them.

Peter Jackson paid the same level of attention to detail, in undertaking the books as a project. There are many scenes in the movies which fans viewed and thought, “That was not in the book.” The greatest example is the love story between the immortal princess, Arwen, and the king of men, Aragorn. In the interest of a strong female presence in the movie, Jackson admittedly plays this story up to more detail than existed in the books. Where does the detail come from? From the appendices to “The Return of the King.”

Jackson also does a stunning of job of realizing special effects with the utmost detail. The result is convincing — It is a blur to tell where the “real” stuff ends and the special effects begin.

But the movies are not just a special-effects bonanza. The movies are a set of stories which, quite frankly, the world needs right now. The trailer for the third installment sums up the reasons why. “There can be no triumph without loss, no victory without suffering, no freedom without sacrifice.” It is a message that rings true to the message of Tolkien’s beloved novels, and resonates with the human spirit.

The Lord of the Rings follows the story of the ring that Bilbo Baggins finds on his adventure in “The Hobbit.” It is the One Ring, written about in the poem. The One Ring that the Dark Lord Sauron forged, the ring that will give him the power to conquer middle earth. The only way it can be destroyed is to cast it into the fire that it was forged from.

But anyone who holds the ring is corrupted by its power, so it cannot be destroyed. Frodo, who was given the ring by his uncle Bilbo, volunteers to take the ring to the fires of Mordor and cast it in. He does not understand what he is agreeing to, but his innocence and purity gives him the strength to undertake the task. Placing his own life in danger to save his little shire (and indeed, all of Middle Earth), Frodo sets out on his quest.

Written in a world that was still reeling from the tragedy of the First and Second World Wars, The Lord of the Rings offers the same hope then that it does now. There is hope. In the second movie, Samwise Gamgee, the pudgy but wise little hobbit offered Frodo this hope: There is some good in the world. There is something worth fighting for.

Hannah is a recent business graduate from McMaster University in Ontario, Canada. She is currently a secretary for the Department of History, and enjoys writing in her free time.

An article in the New York Times suggested that Oscar is due for another change.  Author Kim Elsesser  asks why, after all this time men and women are not allowed to compete against each other for the Best Actor Oscar? We’ve done away with the term “actress” for the most part but on Oscar night, the divide remains.

She writes:

Since the first Academy Awards ceremony in 1929, separate acting Oscars have been presented to men and women. Women at that time had only recently won the right to vote and were still several decades away from equal rights outside the voting booth, so perhaps it was reasonable to offer them their own acting awards. But in the 21st century women contend with men for titles ranging from the American president to the American Idol. Clearly, there is no reason to still segregate acting Oscars by sex.

It’s certainly an interesting idea, but what struck me most about her comment was that I had genuinely never thought about it before. I did not even notice that the Oscars were gender-split.  I wonder if that’s a good sign or a bad one?  You don’t have to look far beyond our own borders to see that women in North America have it pretty good.  Yes, there are still places where things are unfair.  But in North America no one is altering our bodies without our consent, or forcing us into unwanted marriages or telling us we can’t leave the house.

It’s interesting to think that in the midst of so much positive change, there are still splits that have stood for so long we don’t even see them.  The Best Director category is not gender-specific, nor are any of the technical Oscars, where admittedly there are more men than women in the field.  What are the messages hiding behind our attempts to be inclusive? Elsesser goes on to say that “separate is not equal” which is true, but equal is not always fair. So here’s one more question for your Oscar ballot: do you think the Oscars should be gender-blind?

How do you define yourself? Try our interactive Life Lesson What’s in Your Bag? for an intriguing look at the way we tell our own stories.

Image courtesy of Jeroen Miedema . Used with permission.  You can see more of Jeron’s photos on Flickr.

watch video by philosopher Michael Horner

Every year the number of films based on some aspect of the life (or death) of Jesus Christ continues to grow. “Jesus films” have become more of an industry than a genre.

The Jesus Genre

Monty Python’s irreverent Life of Brian can be seen as a satire of many aspects typical to a lot of Jesus films – soaring music, bright lights and the like. In another satiric film, Jesus of Montreal, when a woman objects to a security guard stopping the play in mid-performance, he snaps: “Look, he dies on the cross and is resurrected. No big deal. Talk about slow!” It is amazing that such a monumental story can become tedious and dull, but in the hand of some directors and actors that is what happens.

“Seen that movie too” can become a common response of audiences used to Jesus films. Jesus films have been around since the invention of moving pictures in the late nineteenth century, including Cecil B DeMille’s silent version of The King of Kings in 1927. Perhaps the fullest treatment of Jesus on screen is Franco Zeferelli’s made for TV movie Jesus of Nazareth, now readily available on DVD, which runs over six hours. With numerous Jesus films available at any good video store, it is easy to see how someone could think they have seen all there is to see and that the subject of Jesus has been exhausted in film. The surface, however, has barely been scratched.

A film dealing with Jesus brings out a lot of passion and prejudice, as is evident by the controversy surrounding many of the Jesus films. Martin Scorese’s The Last Temptation of Christ and Pasolini’s The Gospel According to St. Matthew, for example, were both surrounded by controversy and criticism.

Recently another Jesus film has been produced, which has received unprecedented publicity and has also been beleaguered by controversy. Unless someone does not have a radio, television, receive a newspaper or have internet access, they will already be aware of Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ and the debate that surrounds the movie. Gibson’s intent was to create a faithful and realistic adaptation of the crucifixion of Christ. Gibson produced and directed this 25 million dollar film that is sure to be a popular, and possibly, critical success, given all the publicity (‘all press is good press’).

The fact that “Jesus films” are still being made attests to popular culture’s fascination with such a mysterious and enigmatic figure. For many, however, The Passion of the Christ will be one of the first Jesus films they will have ever seen. And if you can only see one, this is perhaps the most powerful and moving Jesus film of them all. The Passion of the Christ beautifully merges art and faith to an extent not achieved by its forerunners. For those who have seen a couple different versions and are tempted to think “I’ve seen that movie before”, you haven’t – not like this.

Jesus filmography

The following list is by no mean exhaustive but includes some of the more popular and readily available films pertaining to the life of Christ.

• King of Kings Nicholas Ray, 1961. Starring Jeffrey Hunter
• Greatest Story Ever Told George Stevens, 1965. Starring Max von Sydow
• Gospel According to St. Matthew Pier Pasolini, 1966. Starring Inrique Irazoque
• Jesus of Nazareth Franco Zeffirelli, 1977. Starring Robert Powell
• Last Temptation of Christ Martin Scorese, 1988. Starring William Dafoe
• Jesus Christ, Superstar Norman Jewison, 1973. Starring Ted Neeley
• Jesus Peter Sykes & John Kirsh, 1979. Starring Brian Deacon.
• Monty Python’s Life of Brian Terry Jones, 1979. Starring Ken Colley
• Jesus of Montreal Denys Arcand, 1989. Starring Lothaire Bluteau
• Jesus: The Epic Mini-Series Roger Young, 2000. Starring Jeremy Sistone
• Miracle Maker: The Story of Jesus Stanislav Sokolov, 2000. Starring R. Fiennes
• The Passion of the Christ Mel Gibson, 2004. Starring Jim Caviezel

Brent Van Hulsentop is an English graduate from Simon Fraser University and currently lives in Vancouver, British Columbia.

See if you can identify the movies these famous quotes are from: (The answers are listed at the bottom of this post)

“Love means never having to say you’re sorry”

“The luckiest man in the world is he who finds true love.”

“I love you. // Ditto.”

“Do you ever put your arms out and just spin and spin and spin? Well, that’s what love is like. Everything inside of you tells you to stop before you fall, but you just keep going.”

“A heart is not judged by how much you love; but by how much you are loved by others.”

“Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.”

Do any of these manage to capture the way you think about love? Probably not, but words like these have probably helped shape your ideas about what love means. It’s a topic that most people have very strong opinions about, as you can see in our article “What is true love?” which has 91 comments so far!

Some of the comments on that article are though-provoking, others are silly, and quite a few are poignant or even downright sad. It’s clear people are craving intimacy, but many seem to be having little success. Author Erwin McManus explores this craving for intimacy in two short video clips.  See for yourself: Love can be Dangerous Part 1 … and Part 2.

Do you have a favorite movie “love quote”? Feel free to share it with us! Or if you feel like you need to talk with someone privately about a more serious issue (which is common at this time of year) please feel free to contact a mentor privately via email to talk.

(Answers; In order, the quotes are from: Love Story (1970), Dracula (1992), Ghost (1990), Practical Magic (1998), Wizard of Oz (1939), and The Princess Bride (1987))