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by Leonard Heldreth

 

Films examine violence and its consequences
This month’s films deal with violence and its aftermath. Sometimes separating a film’s traumatic content from the expression of that content is difficult. Yet these powerful, sometimes overwhelming, artistic statements demonstrate how violence, revenge and guilt can distort and fragment the human psyche.

The Brave One
Many reviewers compared The Brave One to the Death Wish series and other films that provide the audience with the vicarious thrill of vigilante revenge. While the initial situation of Neil Jordan’s film is similar, The Brave One has several more layers of depth and asks more questions than the earlier films. Like most great directors, Jordan takes what, in other hands, would have been an exercise in genre thrillers and turns it into a thoughtful action film which meets its genre expectations and goes far beyond them.
Erica Bain (Jodie Foster) is a radio commentator patterned after those on National Public Radio; she has a program called “Streetwalk” in which she interposes her comments about New York City and its changing nature with sounds that she records on various expeditions around the streets. Erica is engaged to David Kirmani (Naveen Andrews), and they have ordered their wedding announcements.
One evening, they take their dog for a walk in the park, and as they go through a tunnel, they are attacked by three thugs who savagely beat them unconscious. Erica wakes up three weeks later in the hospital; David, dead by the time the police arrive, already has been buried. Erica, once so confident on the streets of the city, now hides in her apartment; when a friend lures her outside, she is terrified.
To give herself some security and artificial courage, she buys a 9mm illegal gun and begins carrying it, even though she hardly knows how to use it. One evening, in self defense, she kills a man who has just shot his wife in a convenience store and wants to eliminate Erica, who is the only witness. Horrified at what she has done and yet exhilarated and strangely at peace, she returns home. The emphasis here, and throughout the film, is not on the justification for her actions, but on the effect these actions have on her.
One shooting in self-defense leads to two others when men approach her with a knife in a deserted subway car, and her response is more methodical this time. But then she deliberately stalks and kills a man who may have killed his wife and is likely to murder his stepdaughter. This is no longer self-defense, and each night she goes looking for the men who killed her fiancee.
In the meantime, she becomes friends with Detective Sean Mercer (Terrence Howard), who is investigating the original assault and is beginning to suspect a connection between the vigilante killings and Erica. How all of this works out and who survives is developed in several nail-biting scenes as Erica continues her search.
Foster is superb in the role, easily equaling her two Academy Award performances (Silence of the Lambs and The Accused). From the hypnotic sound of her voice in the radio commentaries to the action sequences and her emotional responses, she is in complete control of this part and plays it to the hilt. Howard is excellent in what is essentially a supporting part, and Nicky Katt has some of the best lines as Detective Vitale.
Mary Steenburgen is fine as Erica’s producer Carol, and Zoe Kravitz is excellent as Chloe, a girl Erica rescues from a pimp (referencing Odysseus’s statement to the Cylops in Homer, Chloe tells the detective, “I saw nobody and nobody saw me”). Carmen Ejogo as Jackie, Erica’s African neighbor, almost steals the show in the scene where she sews up Erica’s arm and describes the violence in the village that she came from.
The film is directed by Irish director Jordan (The Crying Game, Interview with the Vampire, The Good Thief, Michael Collins, The Butcher Boy, Breakfast on Pluto), who alternates between “art” films and more mainstream entertainment and is superb in either. Also a highly regarded novelist (I just finished his lovely Shade) and a prize-winning short story writer, Jordan’s careful dialogue and literary sensibility bring depth and nuances to what might have been just a genre film. Who better to comment on the role of violence in society than a man who has lived through the Irish “troubles?”
The cinematography work is interesting especially as the camera peers in through windows, tracks people on sidewalks, and looks down from above as characters pursue each other through a maze of alleyways. Two of the more important scenes happen in tunnels—the first in the Central Park tunnel where Erica and David are attacked, and the second in a mall tunnel as Erica sees the same attack as it was captured on a cell phone camera.
A number of reviewers objected to the resolution as being a “Hollywood” ending, but that usually means a cliche, and while the ending is unexpected and maybe even implausible (although I read about “implausible” things in the paper every day), it is hardly a Hollywood cliché. If Mercer and Bain had gone off together at the end, that would have been a “Hollywood” ending.
The film’s biggest weakness in its examination of Erica’s actions is it loads the arguments against the men she kills. Every one of them clearly is guilty and a threat to society. Like the argument for capital punishment, the argument for vigilante justice is strongest when the criminal is undeniably guilty and acts with deliberate malice. The focus (and reference of the title) is Erica’s ability to survive and continue. When Mercer asks her, “How do you cope with what happened to you?” she replies, “You don’t. I’m a different person than I was before.” Yet, after each murder, she acknowledges a part of her has been destroyed by what she has done. The connection with post-war syndrome often suffered by veterans is obvious.
A second, less obvious, theme is the evolution of random violence in society. Although NYC is touted in the film as the “safest city in the United States,” several characters bemoan the changes that have occurred in the city and acknowledge they don’t understand the current crop of criminals. Two of the attacks in the film—in Central Park and the New York subway—parallel actual vigilante responses that people still argue about.
Last, what happens to Erica seems to be linked to the September 11, 2001 terrorist violence. New York City is a major character in the film, and as she and David approach the tunnel, the sound of a plane is heard overhead. Further, the film was released on the anniversary of the September 11, 2001 attacks. Behind the question of what right individuals have to protect themselves is the larger question of what right nations have to protect themselves in a world where international law enforcement is ineffectual. There are no easy answers.
The Brave One is a challenging, difficult film that asks a number of important questions while providing suspense and an emotional roller coaster. It makes us think about what we witness, something the best action films are supposed to do. Top

No Country for Old Men
Cited by critics as their best film since Fargo, the Coen brothers’ adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s No Country for Old Men is at least their comeback film after the atypical Intolerable Cruelty and The Ladykillers. It has less of their trademark humor, but more violence and suspense than usual, although it does look back to Fargo with its sense of place and further back to their debut film, Blood Simple, which also was set in Texas.
The plot is a simple chase film that closely follows its source material. Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin), a Vietnam veteran out hunting antelope one day in Terrell County (Texas), along the border between the United States and Mexico, comes upon the remains of a failed drug deal–five vehicles, several dead men, a dead dog and a pickup truck full of bags of heroin (“Mexican brown”). Some distance away, Moss finds a dead man with a satchel containing $2 million in $100 bills. He takes the satchel home, but that night returns to the site of the crime and is pursued, diving into the Rio Grande and barely escaping a killer dog. He then moves his wife and money to a safe place.
Hired by the drug dealers to find Moss, whose abandoned truck reveals his identity, is Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem), a remorseless killer who shoots the men who hired him and sets out to retrieve the money for himself. Drawn into this situation is Sheriff Ed Tom Bell (Tommy Lee Jones) because he is the county sheriff and because he wants to save Moss and his wife Carla Jean (Kelly Macdonald) from Chigurh if possible.
But, as the title points out, Sheriff Bell is not kidding himself about this being easy. The rest of the film follows Chigurl’s pursuit of Moss and Bell’s pursuit (usually several steps behind) of the other two. Along the way, Moss and Chigurl encounter Carson Wells (Woody Harrelson), a bounty hunter who has been hired to stop Chigurl and retrieve the money from Moss.
Bardem, who won an Academy Award for best supporting actor for this role, plays Chigurh as a merciless, unstoppable killing machine, a Western variation of Halloween’s Michael Myers. One character asks another how dangerous Chigurh is, and he replies, “Compared to what? Bubonic plague?” In addition to a sawed-off shotgun with a silencer, he uses a cattle-killer device that drives a bolt inches into a skull using compressed air; it’s also effective at knocking out locks on doors.
Chigurh is a believer in fate, often deciding by a coin flip whether to kill his victims or let them go. His scene with the owner of a filling station is especially chilling, but one of the best ironies involving his concept of fate happens almost at the end of the film.
Brolin is rock solid as Moss, a veteran who has the ability to fight back with cunning and weapons. His scenes with his wife are especially well done, and Scottish actress Kelly Macdonald somehow manages to lose her Scottish accent (fairly heavy in the supplementary material) and nail the West Texas drawl of a girl who works at Wal-mart.
Although he has less screentime than the other main characters, the core of the film belongs to Jones as Sheriff Bell. As he has demonstrated before, Jones has this role of the aging cowboy down cold. The film opens and closes with monologues by Jones. He acknowledges he has little understanding of and is no longer a match for the type of criminal he is encountering, such as the drug runners and Chigurh.
The random violence and greed overcome any code that ever existed in the West. Scenes between Jones and a former deputy now in El Paso, and between him and his wheelchair-bound brother make explicit themes that are implicit in the action sequences.
The bleak desert landscape, impressively captured by Oscar-nominated Roger Deakins, sets the tone for the bleak story, and little music softens that tone. The film does have some humorous sequences—a man walks into a clothing store wearing a hospital gown and asks, “Do many people come in here without any clothes?”, and two interactions with boys selling shirts, as well as an encounter with a Mariachi band, give a whole new meaning to the term “blood money.”
The Coens’ (and McCarthy’s) concern for the rising tide of irrational violence parallels that of Jordan in The Brave One, even though the Coen film is set more than twenty years earlier. No Country for Old Men was nominated for Oscars for photography, editing, sound editing and sound mixing; it won Oscars for best picture, best directing, best adapted screenplay and best supporting actor. Top

Sweeney Todd
In this sixth collaboration between Tim Burton and Johnny Depp, Stephen Sondheim’s music is more than balanced by the visual effects and the production values Burton has created. The subject matter is revenge, murder and cannibalism (in case anyone didn’t know that), and it’s always amazing how few complaints the critics have about such material.
Never before have so many throats, to my knowledge, been cut with such swaggering delight and such gushing gore in film. Critics applaud Burton for not toning down the blood and for using prosthetic devices to make it spray even better. Had the Coen brothers or Neil Jordan shed half as much blood, they would have been condemned for being sadistic monsters encouraging ultra violence, and that’s not even mentioning the cannibalism. Talk about a double standard. What strange creatures we humans be.
But let’s distance ourselves from the content—it is set in Victorian London, the world of Dickens, and, of course, things were worse then, despite Erica’s complaints about New York City and Sheriff Bell’s despair over west Texas. The set designs are excellent and the art direction (exactly what that is, I’m not sure) won an Oscar. The acting is fine, and the singing is adequate, although I kept expecting a bit more professional “punch” in the voices. But Sondheim strains the vocal cords even of people like Angela Lansbury, who starred in the Broadway production.
Depp is quite good as the scowling, razor-waving demon barber, although it’s hardly academy award nomination material (although he did get a nomination). Helena Bonham Carter is better as Mrs. Lovett, adding a little spunk and humanity to her portrayal, in contrast to Depp’s revenge-rigid part. Alan Rickman, a fine actor, is OK as Judge Turpin, but all he has to do most of the time is look as if he has just smelled something bad (which, given London at the time, he probably had). Jamie Campbell Bowell plays Anthony Hope, Todd’s shipmate who falls in love with Todd’s daughter.
For someone who has just come off a tour of duty on the same ship where Todd was shanghaied, he’s quite a bit too innocent and dewy-eyed. Conditions on British commercial vessels had a lot of similarities to prisons in those days. Sacha Baron Cohen is pretty good in the supporting role of Pirelli, but he doesn’t last much past one song before Todd twangs his vocal cords with a razor. My favorite is Timothy Spall, a person whose face and figure force him to act, and he gets into the role with gusto.
Overall, the film works well, especially for those who haven’t seen it on the stage (which I had not), and Burton and Depp have added another commercial success to their string of hits. While this isn’t Edward Scissorhands, it’s good to see two old pros working together to create a unique vision that even Stephen Sondheim liked. Top
—Leonard G. Heldreth

 

Ojibwa Drum Songs
Ojibwa Drum Songs, a documentary by Michael Loukinen, premiered at Northern Michigan University on April 4. Part of a series on Ojibwe culture, it offers a unique look at the role of drumming and drum songs within local Native American traditions. The film, because of the subject matter, is not for sale, but details can be found at www.UpNorthFilms.org
The following review, written by Leonard G. Heldreth, appeared in the program for the premier.
Even before birth, a child experiences its mother’s heartbeat, the steady drumming that beats at the core of its existence and fills its evolving senses. Ojibwe Drum Songs takes us back to that basic experience and shows how the Ojibwe people use the sound of the drum to reestablish that fundamental and healing connection with the earth, with their families and with their culture.
In the film, Jim Williams, an elder of the Lac Vieux Desert Ojibwe tribe, relates what he has been taught about drums and drum songs. In a slow, reflective voice, Williams draws upon a lifetime of experience and teachings to explain the Ojibwe drum. Carefully describing his teachings and telling stories, he emphasizes his account is only one way of looking at this cultural artifact and its place in the life of his tribe; he acknowledges other accounts and stories may cast a different light on it, and he welcomes these versions as a way to share the culture.
For Williams, “traditional” does not mean something that is locked forever into a rigid mode of thinking, but rather it is an ongoing pattern that is respected, used by the people and modified to meet their needs as situations change. He cites how drums were made in the past and how they are made now. The critical factor is not necessarily the materials and techniques, but the creation of the drum and the use to which it is put. The spirit of the drum and its function in the tribe transcend its method of construction.
Until President Carter signed the American Indian Religious Freedom Act in 1978, many Native American religious practices were forbidden by law. Consequently, many of these religious traditions, almost all based on oral tradition, had fallen into disuse or been partly forgotten; some had gone underground or were maintained only in private family ceremonies. When participation in traditional ceremonies became legal, tribe members used the drum as one way to bring the old customs back into the tribe’s public life. At powwows and other opportunities for drumming, Williams and elder members of the tribe taught songs they remembered to their young people, and new songs appeared. The drum was again placed at the center of Ojibwe culture, and its songs linked the tribal past and present; the stories it told became a way the generations could bond through music, song and dance.
While drums are used in powwows and other celebrations, they play a crucial role in Ojibwe religious activities. These sacred drum songs can be learned only through participation in religious ceremonies and cannot be recorded. Other drum songs are for celebration, for festival occasions and sometimes just for fun.
These are the songs Michael Loukinen has captured in Ojibwe Drum Songs, as his camera focuses on drummers and dancers, often intercutting them with Williams’ commentary. Loukinen sometimes uses stock or created wildlife footage to illustrate the tales told by the songs. Grant Guston, owner of Lake Effect Media in Marquette, created the graphic transitions between scenes and for other special effects, such as a petroglyph animation of a buffalo story.
A “documentary,” by its name, attempts to document something, to present a truth about it, and Loukinen and Williams have succeeded in identifying the purpose and value of the Ojibwe drum songs without violating their religious function. The film should help the non-Ojibwe viewer to understand, appreciate and—perhaps most important—respect tradition that ties these people together and heals through community support. We all begin life with the steady thumping of the drum of the heart; Loukinen’s film reminds us of that common bond and encourages us to understand and respect the Ojibwe expression of it. Top
—Leonard G. Heldreth

Editor’s Note: All films reviewed are available on DVD or VHS from local stores. Reviews of earlier films cited can be found at www.mmnow.com

 

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