RUTHFULLY YOURS

http://politicalmavens.com/

This movie takes place in Hamburg in 1946, as Keira Knightley arrives from London to join her Colonel husband (Jason Clarke) who is in charge of dealing with the aftermath of a war that left the German city decimated. Though the Allies were permitted to take over the houses of wealthy Germans and evict them during their stay, the Colonel extends the gesture of allowing the father/daughter owner/residents to remain in the palatial mansion, occupying only the top floor while he and his wife live on the main floor. We learn that each family has suffered a tragic personal loss and we see the initial antipathy of the Colonel’s wife to all things German while her military husband insists that the war is over, the Allies have won and it is time for reconciliation.

As the film progresses, a relationship develops between the Colonel’s beautiful wife and the very handsome owner of the house (Alexander Skarsgard), one that is consummated on the dining room table in broad daylight – the most egregious of several unbelievable scenes. His teenage daughter is a surly character, angry at the loss of her mother and the takeover of her home by “the enemy.” She will turn into a pivotal character through her relationship with a young Nazi thug, intent on further terrorist activity. The tension between the love story and the reality of the hostile daughter’s aiding and abetting an imminent assassination becomes an insurmountable obstacle to the audience reaction What is intended as a surprise ending is one we have been rooting for from the get-go, so it seems more of an expectation than a surprise.

https://www.nationalreview.com/2019/03/cold-war-movie-anti-communist

Director Pawel Pawlikowski’s masterful film mounts a subtle, power-packed critique of the socialist phenomenon.

The best narrative art eschews didacticism in favor of subtlety and nuance and moral reflection. The Polish film Cold War, released last year and directed by Pawel Pawlikowski, is no exception. It tells the story, inspired by Pawlikowski’s parents, of Wiktor Warski (Tomasz Kot) and Zula Lichón (Joanna Kulig), whose amour fou burns against the backdrop of postwar Europe.

Wiktor’s passion for Zula consumes him. It haunts him for years after he flees Poland, and drives him to return despite the certainty of imprisonment. Zula herself is a beautiful, broken creature, the victim of abuse, talented but insecure, flirtatious, charming, impetuous, melancholy, who dulls her anxieties with alcohol. This passionate and doomed romance also has a political dimension. Which is why Cold War is not just melodrama. It’s a masterpiece.

The film is a subtle but devastating critique of the socialist phenomenon. Wiktor and Zula meet shortly after the end of World War II, when Wiktor is tasked with assembling a musical troupe that will perform folk music for the nomenklatura of the Soviet client government. With his partner, choreographer Irena Bielecka (Agata Kulesza), Wiktor tours the countryside, recording ancient melodies. They occupy what looks to be an old estate — a ruin of the ancien régime — where they hold auditions. Among the aspiring dancers and singers is Zula, to whom Wiktor is immediately drawn. Irena doesn’t share Wiktor’s enthusiasm, especially after Zula performs a song from a Soviet movie. But she relents. Zula joins the group.

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/men/thinking-man/true-story-behind-keira-knightly-film-aftermath-british-family/

The European winter of 1946/7 was one of the coldest of the 20th century. The Allies had won the war, but severe and relentless snowfall compounded the hardship across the continent – not least in Germany, where a defeated population had to rebuild a flattened nation during what came to be known as the Hungerwinter.

Out of this environment came a remarkable tale of reconciliation and friendship, when Walter Brook, a British colonel installed by Allied powers as governor of Pinneberg, a county near Hamburg, rejected official advice and moved in with a German family. The occupying British forces had been given orders to requisitions homes and cars… anything they might need in order to govern, with German families being sent to camps or denuded of their possessions.

Rather than requisitioning the family home of local baker Wilhelm Ladige and his wife, Erika, a wealthy heiress, Walter decided it was big enough for both families. It helped that the Ladiges had been as “anti-Hitler as far as one dared” – especially as a family with three children. So in February 1947, Walter’s wife Anthea and their three children – Kim, eight, Sheila, 15, and Colin, 17 – moved into a grand mansion with the Wilhelm and Erika and their children: Holger, five, Heike, seven, and Theo, 12.

https://www.nationalreview.com/2019/02/oscars-2019-academy-awards-fakes-history-remakes-new/

When it comes to movies, the Oscars are one way of learning history. Students of film can peruse the annals to gather a sense of what movie culture was like in different periods, reading the list of winners (and nominations) as a guide to cultural standards and film-industry norms.

But journalists — those who cover the entertainment beat as well as the Beltway — abuse the historical function of the Oscars by routinely hijacking its significance. Specifically, when Ruth E. Carter and Hannah Beachler won Academy Awards for, respectively, the costumes and art direction of Black Panther, many media wonks (professional and amateur alike) immediately proclaimed that they had “made history as the first African-American women to win” in those categories.

What kind of “history” is this really? When the reporting of news events carries such automatic estimation of cultural value, the term “first” is used as manipulation, a measuring rod of social progress.

This makes the political idea of “progress” more important than the subject being reported. Carter’s and Beachler’s work goes undescribed; their personal histories as people are delimited to the social-justice categories of race and gender. First-semester journalism classes used to teach that mentioning a person’s race or gender was appropriate only when it was essential to the news.

https://quadrant.org.au/magazine/2019/01-02/mars-dreaming/

For a dead and apparently lifeless planet, Mars certainly gets more that its share of attention. From HG Wells and Edgar Rice Burroughs to Ron Howard and, most recently, Sean Penn, the distant red orb has proven irresistible to any and all with more than an ounce of imagination.

Since the publication of The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells in 1897, popular imagination has been drawn to the idea of humans travelling to, and colonising, the planet Mars. Every decade new books and films are released exploring scenarios about whether life exists or ever existed on Mars, whether Martians would be benign or hostile, and whether the planet could sustain human life, should we be able to figure out a way to get there and settle. Although we have landed men on the moon, that journey was a mere 384,000 kilometres from Earth, whereas Mars is 54.6 million kilometres away.

The latest Mars dreaming is the eight-episode series created by the British television network Channel 4, and US streaming service Hulu, The First, starring Sean Penn. It was created by Beau Willimon, the writer-producer behind the American adaptation of the BBC’s House of Cards.

The drama in the premiere season of The First takes place in the not-too-distant future and focuses on the astronauts, their families, and the ground crew, rather on the flight or the experiences on Mars. Rob Thomas, of the Capital Times, wrote:

Beau Willimon seems to be atoning for House of Cards with his new Hulu series The First. Whereas Netflix’s first big hit often focused on the worst about humanity—not just evil but ambition, greed and weakness—his new show, The First, reminds us of the best about us.

https://www.frontpagemag.com/fpm/272973/what-you-didnt-miss-oscars-bruce-bawer

Who watches the Academy Awards anymore? Movies are worse than ever. TV is better than ever. Who wants to go to a movie theater nowadays and worry about picking up bedbugs from the seats, having a rat scurry up your leg in the dark, or getting into a fracas with some psycho over the armrest? I haven’t seen any of the films nominated for an Oscar this year, and didn’t even realize the Oscars were being televised last night until a couple of hours before the show came on.

But I watched it anyway. Not because I cared who won or lost, but because I was curious to gauge the extent to which the Hollywood establishment was still clinging to the whole identity-group thing. Answer: a lot. Almost every pair of award presenters consisted of a white person of one sex and a person of color of the other sex. Also, it was obvious that these egomaniacs had recovered entirely from the brief humiliation of the #metoo movement – and had unashamedly resumed their sacred job of instructing us peons in how to think about race, sex, politics, etc.

Some highlights, in chronological order.

https://www.nationalreview.com/2019/02/the-tree-of-life-masterpiece-film-director-terrence-malick/

Set aside your devices and diversions for two hours, and you’ll see something wonderful.

‘There are two ways through life — the way of nature and the way of grace,” remarks the saintly mother at the outset of The Tree of Life, one of the most awe-inspiring films of the 21st century. She continues:

Grace doesn’t try please itself. It accepts being slighted, forgotten, disliked, accepts insults and injuries. Nature only wants to please itself, get others to please it. . . . It finds reasons to be unhappy when all the world is shining around it and love is smiling through all things.

I wonder what the TV Guide capsule of Terrence Malick’s inspired, autobiographical meditation on a Christian existence might say. How about: “Three members of a midcentury Texas family deal with an unbearable loss over the course of years. Also, there are dinosaurs.” Malick makes some daring, strange, brilliant choices whose connections reveal themselves only gradually and obliquely.

Starting with an epigraph from Job (“Where were you when I laid the foundations of the Earth?”), Malick meditates on a family much like his own, shifting among the perspectives of Mr. O’Brien (Brad Pitt), a strict and sometimes brutish disciplinarian; his wife (Jessica Chastain), an angel in a housedress; and Jack, one of their three sons (played by Hunter McCracken as a boy and Sean Penn as an adult). Malick wends his way through the interior monologues of these three as they reflect on their lives together in the 1950s, their responses to a catastrophic event, and the mystery of consciousness.

https://www.nationalreview.com/2019/02/gosnell-movie-late-term-abortion-new-york-virginia/

A new law in New York legalizes the actions for which abortionist Kermit Gosnell was sent to prison for life.

Rarely has a new movie become available at a time when the news made its subject matter timelier and more appropriate. Gosnell: The Trial of America’s Biggest Serial Killer is the true story of a doctor who went to prison for life in 2013 for stabbing several infants he had delivered alive inside his hellhole of an abortion clinic in Philadelphia. After being almost completely ignored by critics during its release last year, last week the movie went on sale in Walmart and on Amazon, where it is the No. 1 best-selling dramatic DVD. At the same time, infanticide became a key issue in major stories in Virginia and New York.

Last week, Virginia governor Ralph Northam became engulfed in a controversy over whether he had appeared in his medical-school yearbook in costume, either in blackface or in the white sheet and hat of a Ku Klux Klan member. The photo came to light because a medical-school classmate of Northam’s was appalled at the governor’s candid support for a bill that would remove many restrictions on late-term abortion. While the media outrage was largely directed at his alleged racist actions 35 years ago, the abortion bill was promptly killed in committee, hours after Northam had been overly honest in describing what the bill would allow.

https://www.wsj.com/articles/never-look-away-review-towering-art-as-high-drama-11549578464?mod=cx_picks&cx_navSource=cx_picks&cx_tag=video&cx_artPos=6#cxrecs_s

When your debut feature wins an Oscar—and almost universal acclaim—the path ahead probably leads downhill. That was the case for the German filmmaker Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck. His electrifying 2006 political thriller, “The Lives of Others,” set in the former East Germany, explored state-sponsored surveillance, the beauty of empathy, and what it means to be human. His second film, “The Tourist,” starred Angelina Jolie and Johnny Depp in a silly Hollywood confection about gangsters and mistaken identity; it left Mr. Donnersmarck’s admirers wondering how he would climb back from such a steep descent. “Never Look Away,” in German with English subtitles and entering national release this week, provides the answer: by taking on, with formidable if not total success, a mountainous subject—the power of art as exemplified by an artist who resembles the towering figure of Gerhard Richter, and as dramatized in a fateful family saga across three eras of German history.

Either of those two elements might have been ambitious enough to fill a conventional feature. This one, which runs a few minutes more than three hours, is filled to overflowing, though only occasionally does it seem overlong. (An extended sequence about the avant-garde scene in postwar Dusseldorf conspicuously verges on self-parody.) And as befits a story about the visual arts, it was shot by the great American cinematographer Caleb Deschanel, who gave us the peerlessly pure images in Carroll Ballard’s “The Black Stallion.”

Mr. Donnersmarck’s artist hero, Kurt Barnert (Tom Schilling), offers a perfect pretext for re-examining his nation’s calamitous past, from the rise of the Nazis before World War II through postwar division to unification in unimagined peace and prosperity. “Never Look Away” is equally about the suffering Kurt’s family endures during much of that time, and about Kurt’s art—how he makes it, how it changes him and those it touches. The details of his life sometimes hew closely to those of Mr. Richter’s; at other times they’re freely fictionalized. (The fraught relationship between the filmmaker and Mr. Richter, arguably the world’s pre-eminent living artist, was recently examined in a New Yorker piece by Dana Goodyear.) Rich as the film may be in aesthetic considerations—very rich indeed—it’s the startling arc of Kurt’s life story that sustains the dramatic narrative.

https://quillette.com/2019/02/06/dear-white

When Netflix’s Dear White People made its debut in April, 2017, the show immediately impressed viewers with the complex emotional multitudes it contained—showing its characters to be what author Cheryl Strayed once described as “flawed, and capable of redemption.” The plot focuses closely on the inner lives of black students at Winchester University, a fictional, predominately white Ivy League school that originally was brought to life in a 2014 film of the same name. Creator Justin Simien, who also wrote and directed the film, demonstrates that there is always more to people than what meets the eye.

Coleandrea “Coco” Conners is a young woman who adds weave to her hair and shortens her name in order to become accepted into a Black sorority. Is this an affirmation of black pride or the upholding of European beauty standards? Or both—or neither? When confronted by another student about showing up to a party where white attendees wore blackface, Coco says, “This might come as a shock to you, but these people don’t give a fuck about no Harriet motherfucking Tubman. They pay millions of dollars on their lips, their tans, their asses, Jay-Z tickets, because they want to be like us. And they got to be for a night. I’m not about to go out in the streets and protest a fucking Halloween party.”

Reggie Greene is a fierce activist for his people, and is constantly challenging them to fight for their rights in the face of injustice. But does that mean every white person he encounters who disagrees with him on race issues is a racist? What if a white friend uses the N-word—but does so in reference to a popular rap song in which the word figures prominently?