Randy Newman and the Fall of the American Empire

Randy Newman might be surprised to see himself mentioned on a progressive spirituality blog. In his five decades of making music that is alternately brilliantly satirical and elegant (and sometimes both), he hasn't often smiled on religion or religious people. In spite of his skepticism about spirituality, he also has written some of the most beautiful love songs I've ever heard, and many of these are shot through with regret for his past mistakes.

The title song of his new record, Harps and Angels, sees him looking forward with a combination of reluctance and mystery to the prospect of his own death. At 64, he realizes that his time is short, and if the title song is to be believed, he may have come around to the idea that "there really is an afterlife." But the heart of the album is a quintet of songs in which Newman addresses the political, even spiritual landscape of the U.S. In quick succession, he names what ails the nation ("Y'all have lost faith in yourselves"), reminds listeners that the dream of "America" was built on the idea that everyone could have "a piece of the pie" (although few seem to care about current inequalities, says Randy, except protest singers), and makes some amusing (and provocative) assertions about just how to change things. The most impressive song on the album is a political tract. "Just a Few Words in Defense of our Country" speaks what is so often considered unspeakable in polite conversation -- the fact that we are living through a period in which the global political order we have known since the second World War is coming to an end. The song ends on a bleak note, with Newman bidding farewell on behalf of a U.S. that needs to relearn its place in a new international structure. He may be granted easy passage to say such a thing -- he's functioning much the same way as a medieval court jester, telling the king what he doesn't want to hear but wrapping it up in biting humour.

From my (hopefully) humbler position as an outside observer of the U.S., I think Newman is half right. The global order that we have known is clearly diminishing, and new relationships need to be negotiated. The fact that there will soon be a new U.S. president offers an opportunity for an energized and thoughtful approach. There will be very few people in Europe sorry to see President Bush leave office, and while international adulation for Barack Obama is obvious, there is also a recognition outside the U.S. that John McCain would at least try to rebuild the vastly diminished standing of the country if he is elected in November.

I can imagine the legitimate criticism for an Irish guy suggesting that the American empire is falling, and I would counter this by saying that I love the U.S. so much that I'm moving there next week (if you'll have me). I still see hope in the idea of the values that the U.S. at its best represents. Just for starters, there's a pioneering spirit, hospitality and kindness, the creative impetus, and a positive attitude about the future (serious theologians would call that something like "eschatological hope," I suppose). But I am also aware that limiting such hope to one nation's idea of itself has pretty tragic historical antecedents. I prefer to think in terms of the distinctive gifts and goals of a nation, and how they interact with those of the rest of the world. The U.S. has something special, which in recent times has been mislaid or perhaps even misappropriated by leaders who seem not to understand (or not to want to understand) that we are all in this together. Newman may well be right in asserting that the empire as we know it is falling, but answering the question of what will replace it is a task not just for politicians or provocative artists but for everyone who takes the common good seriously.

North by Northwest and what it (might) mean

I saw 'North by Northwest' for the umpteenth time the other week - one of those 'comfort films' that makes me feel more at home in myself; nostalgia sometimes gets a raw deal these days, but if a work of art helps you integrate yourself at the end of a busy day, there's no shame in that. At any rate, what you remember when you watch 'N x NW' is the texture and colour on screen - Cary Grant's suit, Eva Marie Saint's red dress, the cement lines on the neck braces of the Mount Rushmore Presidential faces. I wrote the notes below on my last viewing, five or six years ago:

I have a problem with Alfred Hitchcock. His films have so comprehensively entered the popular consciousness that it is impossible to come to them fresh, perhaps even if we have never seen one before. Something about 'North by Northwest' prevents it from being a tense experience for me; similar to the fact that our folk knowledge of what happens in 'Psycho' prevents us from feeling excited or scared; even if we have never seen it, we know who did it, and why (s)he did. Thankfully, this doesn’t at all inhibit our delighted wonder at these works of genius. NXNW is perhaps Hitch’s most perfectly realized marriage of thrills and laughs, as a flamboyant anti-hero and cad Cary Grant is mistaken for a spy and spends the rest of the film running from (and into) James Mason’s heavies. His character’s name is “Roger O. Thornhill” – he says the “O” stands for nothing, and this is one hollow guy. I think this is a none-too-subtle way of representing the ROT of the upper middle class that Hitchcock, the working class miner’s son despised. He has a perfect tan and handmade shoes, like Grant himself, he’s a “little more polished than the others.”
The story is at once simple and convoluted – Thornhill is mistaken for a spy and kidnapped by some nefarious bad guys led by James Mason and his “special friend” Martin Landau. There are two chases – by car and plane (the buildup to which is a masterpiece of editing and mise-en-scene) – a couple of fights, and some spectacular set-pieces, a femme fatale (or is she?), a government conspiracy, and our hero gets the girl. What more could we want? But I think it is a mistake to see NXNW as a simple action comedy – it’s riddled with metaphorical bullets and aesthetic pleasures. For one thing, the dialogue is some of the most sparkling Hitch ever worked with. We discover that there is “no such thing as a lie, merely the expedient exaggeration.” Mason has a marvellous moment of villainy when he says, “The least I can do is afford you the opportunity of surviving the evening.” I was reminded of how funny it is on a recent viewing, when for example Grant says, “Not that I mind the odd case of abduction once in a while but I’ve got tickets for the theater tonight” or responds to “I’m a big girl” with “Yes, and in all the right places.” The story is beautifully structured, building mystery and tension (in spite of Grant’s inability to play drunk in a key scene; he’s clearly having a lot of fun, and so are we.) But there is much more than humour and action here – I think Hitchcock is using Grant’s character as a commentary on modern superficiality and relationships.

Thornhill is an advertising executive, and I guess some people might think you can’t get much more superficial than that; he runs away from his mother while being chased by people who want to kill him, so we get some of Hitch’s trademark misogyny and distrust of parents; the romance between Grant and the divine Eva Marie Saint is totally unconvincing – Cary can’t kiss for toffee; he’s so cold and unpassionate that if I thought Hitch were more cynical I would say he’s trying to make a point; this same point is alluded to in the relationship between Landau (one of Hitch’s stereotyped gay villains) and Mason – there’s all kinds of weird sexual stuff here, from Mason accusing Landau’s character of jealousy and saying he’s flattered to the downright crass – but hilarious – use of a train speeding through a tunnel as a saucy metaphor.
So, all in all, NXNW isn’t a particularly profound film, but it does present an archetype of anti-hero as cad. Thornhill is morally without foundation, he’s selfish and a user of women, but he’s enormous fun to be around (in small doses). The icy blonde is portrayed as far stronger and more intelligent, and Grant is obviously older than the actor playing his mother, so it’s pretty clear that Hitchcock doesn’t particularly like his protagonist. He’s the kind of guy you’d invite to a cocktail party but never go on holiday with – like Hannibal Lecter without the blood. NXNW is a story based on coincidence upon accident upon downright naïve construct switching back through predictable denouement, but still thoroughly entertaining. The use of soundstages is pretty awful – the trees even shake in one scene, and if this had been directed by somebody else, I’m almost certain it would not have the reputation. But, for what it is, the breeze that blows through NXNW is a refreshing one, and a pretty magnificent lesson in how to make a film.

More reflections on film and film-things at www.thefilmtalk.com

Religion and Politics

There has been a recent controversy in northern Ireland regarding the role that some fundamentalist Christians wish their faith to play in politics - there is a huge conversation to be had about this, and I look forward to exploring it at Greenbelt in a few weeks' time - come and say hi if you're a reader - but for now, here's one small contribution:

When Senator Barack Obama recently addressed the role of religion in public life he said that religious politicians can no more divorce themselves from their convictions than can committed secularists. For we all bring a range of beliefs, experience, and prejudices to the table. But the problem arises when we offer no rationale for our policy positions other than referring to a religious or ideological text.

William Wilberforce, the British MP who campaigned for an end to the slave trade is often held up as an example of how faith should influence politics. No one would doubt that his view of scripture and the teachings of Christ led him to oppose the evil of human trafficking. But it may be inappropriate to use Wilberforce as a role model for traditionalist Christian activism today. Wilberforce did not simply uphold traditional Christian morality – if he had done so, the slave trade might have continued a lot longer than it did, for church authorities were often complicit in injustice themselves. No, in fact, what Wilberforce did was far more risky than simply siding with the religious establishment – on being confronted with the horrors of slavery, he reconsidered his theology in the light of experience and reason. In other words, he changed his mind about what he thought God believed. And he devoted his life to persuading others – using the same combination of scripture, reason and experience.

In that light, using Old Testament texts to maintain the status quo today does not represent the tradition of radical Christian activism personified by William Wilberforce. In fact, it may be doing the opposite.

What is most troubling in the debate is that faith-based activism has a lot more to be concerned about than the typical issues of private morality mentioned by some individuals and groups. Senator Obama made his remarks about religion and politics in a speech to a progressive Christian group in the United States, who have engaged with the vast issues of economic injustice, the dangers of climate change, racism, and the war in Iraq. This suggests another question to me: if William Wilberforce were around today, what aspects of religious faith would he criticize, and which oppressed groups would he defend? This is certain – religious power often comes late to the side of the oppressed; and good people are often proven wrong in even their most sincere convictions.

It should not surprise us when people of faith re-consider their beliefs, for religious faith is supposed to have conversion at its centre. The notion of change should not therefore be threatening to people of faith. And so, to put it simply, if we want to follow Wilberforce, might we start by asking ourselves: what part of our own religious traditions need to be converted?

Immigration

The following is taken from the text of a Thought for the Day I presented on BBC Radio Ulster this morning.

In a few weeks’ time, I will make a life-changing journey. After 33 years of living in Northern Ireland, I am about to become an immigrant. I’m excited about this move,
not least because I believe that doing something new is one of the best ways to grow as a human being.

But two questions come to mind as I prepare myself for leaving home.

The first is, ‘What it will feel like to be an immigrant?’ Will I be welcomed by the people in my adopted country? Will I stand out? Will I have to sell newspapers at traffic lights or wait tables in restaurants where the indigenous population refuses to work? Will I have slogans painted on the wall of my house telling me to leave? Will I have to rely on churches and charities to defend my human rights? If there is something wrong with my visa, will I be handcuffed and detained indefinitely?

In considering my own imminent immigrant status, I am very aware of how often I have failed to welcome the people who have migrated to Northern Ireland recently. I have not always sought to see the good in the faces of people who have arrived here, often coming from difficult circumstances. I hope people will respond differently to me as I move overseas, and help me find a sense of home when I get there.

The second question is, ‘What I will miss when I leave?’ We have a reputation
for complaining in this society – but I want to remember what it is about being northern Irish that makes us all feel, at times, that this is the greatest place on earth.

Of course I’ll miss my friends and loved ones – and hopefully they’ll miss me too.

I’ll yearn for our sense of humour – especially the ability to laugh at ourselves.

In my mind’s eye, I’ll visualise the natural landscape – from the reward of the view after the walk up the Silent Valley to the way evening light hits the lough shore in Randalstown Forest.

And I will miss the sense of community that is bound together by our local media when they’re at their best.

Finally, of course, there is our extraordinary political experiment – the attempt to resolve a violent conflict without victory or defeat, but through agreeing to disagree, to put the past behind us, and to share power for the sake of all the people.

It’s got its teething problems, of course, but we are also often very hard on our politicians. So I want to end my last Thought for the Day as a Northern Irish resident with the hope that we might, after decades of complicated and painful relationships, be able to commit ourselves to something simple: to decide always, before we start complaining, to first do this: to try to see the good in each other.

Is 'Southland Tales' the new 'All the Pretty Horses'?

I need your help, regarding a matter that may initially seem simple, but on closer reflection may well be the unanswerable question:

Justin Timberlake lip-synching to The Killers

Jon Lovitz as a racist cop

Sarah Michelle Gellar as a porn star investigative journalist

Dwayne Johnson as a much more famous version of himself

Wallace Shawn and Miranda Richardson together at last

Religious visions of the apocalypse and consumerism will eat itself scenarios

Some of the most striking visual images in US cinema of the past ten years

‘Strange Days’ meets ‘Memento’ meets ‘Blade Runner’ meets ‘Donnie Darko’ meets ‘The Greatest Story Ever Told’

I think.

So, to the question: can anyone tell me what the hell ‘Southland Tales’ is about?

It’s well-known (and obvious from watching it) that this movie has been cut to ribbons - which didn’t harm ‘Across the Universe’, a movie that I felt could have lost a couple more scenes and still been breathtaking; on the other hand, I still wait in vain for a director’s cut of Billy Bob Thornton’s ‘All the Pretty Horses’, which I genuinely think could be a masterpiece if the studio hadn’t exercised their prerogative to make great things worse by dividing them in two. ‘Southland’ comes from Richard Kelly, who in ‘Donnie Darko’ proved himself capable of both smart philosophy and cinematic poetry - sort of a Ferris Bueller meets Ingmar Bergman kinda guy; and so I want to believe that his next film is more than the sum of its parts. But watching it last night was … how should I say this? Confusing to the point of monotony? Maybe, but I’m open to a re-viewing with new lenses: and this is what I need you for: Is there any one among you who can tell me what I should do with ‘Southland Tales’?