Joel Frey

Movie Review: The Tillman Story

For months, I'd wanted to see The Tillman Story. After reading several reviews last summer,  I figured the documentary about the NFL star turned Army Ranger would eventually find its way to El Paso, home of Fort Bliss, the massive U.S. Army post that straddles the Texas-New Mexico border.

I began constantly checking the Flixster app on my Blackberry for local show times, but to no avail. At first, I guessed that El Paso was not big enough to warrant a run of screenings. But then, I wondered if the city's proximity to Fort Bliss was actually a deterrent given the film's unflattering portrayal of one of the U.S. military's most forgettable moments during the War on Terror.

Recently, I was perusing Netflix and The Tillman Story crossed my mind. While it wasn't available until February 1, I added it to our queue, satisfied that I'd finally get the opportunity to watch it.

The Tillman Story is well done and the footage and interviews are compelling, but if you've read Jon Krakauer's "Where Men Win Glory: The Odyssey of Pat Tillman," as I had, I don't think you'll take away much new information.

That said, there is one unforgettable sequence from Tillman's memorial service that I didn't remember from the book. At some point, his younger brother, Richard, climbed the stage to say a few words about his fallen brother. With a beer in hand, he called out the previous speakers, including John McCain, who eulogized Pat as one would expect at a religious service.

"He's not religious," he countered. "Thanks for your thoughts, but he's (expletive) dead."

There is so much about Pat Tillman's military career that saddens and disappoints me: his inglorious death, the U.S. government then using the tragedy to market an unpopular war and finally the shameless lies that were told by some of the highest ranking leaders in our country as his family tried to sort through the facts.  As a Christian, however, that scene embodies the most haunting and most hopeless part of all.

 

Hotdish, Potluck, Smorgasbord

We're having potluck for today's 300 words. I hope it fills you up!

• Heather and I are slightly dumbfounded that Megan, whose great-grandparents have called the state of Wisconsin home for almost 90 years, rooted for the Steelers. It was almost as perplexing as when she painted a horseshoe on her cheek last year while we sported the fleur-de-lis during Super Bowl 44.
• Last year, we started a new Super Bowl tradition: jambalaya during halftime. Heather made a scrumptious batch on Sunday and I appreciated having a taste of the Crescent City during the game even if the Saints didn't make it back to the promised land.
• As a lifelong Star Wars fan, the VW commercial featuring a mini-Darth Vader futilely attempting to harness the Force cracked me up. On Facebook I wrote that it was "amazing that Star Wars is still relevant 30+ years after its debut," to which my friend and fellow Star Wars buff Shea replied, "Much like us."
• El Paso hasn't quite fully recovered from last week's plunge into the deep freeze.  Schools just reopened yesterday and the city finally confirmed this afternoon that it was okay to drink the water sans boiling.  Unbelievably, some homes and businesses are still without water.
• We submitted Meg's FAFSA application last night. For those of you unfamiliar with college application process that stands for "Free Application for Federal Student Aid." As I was writing this I asked Meg to recite the acronym and she rattled it off. A few seconds later she then passed the "What is your social security number?" quiz.

Like most Lutherans, I'm an ambassador of potlucks involving pots. We're having one at Trinity (3800 Hondo Pass) on Sunday. If you're on the Northeast side of town, stop by around 11:30 and fill up a plate. And should your soul need refreshing, the service starts at 10:15.

One degree

Heather can attest to my impatience with local broadcast news. Generally, I find the reporting light on substance, heavy on hyperbole and I enjoy mocking it endlessly. This is especially true when it comes to coverage of weather events. Here in El Paso, the slightest trace of rain is newsworthy given how sensitive the desert landscape is to flooding. Still, in my humble opinion, this does not excuse a news director from running a segment with a shot of a few drops of precipitation striking a shallow puddle accompanied by breathless commentary from the reporter speculating on what could happen next "if."

Over the last 48 hours, however, as Sun City has experienced some of its coldest days on record, including a low of one (ONE!) degree before the sun rose this morning,  I've been willing to cut these ladies and gentlemen a bit of slack. Watching them deliver their live shots street side shuddering in these freezing temperatures has been painful. Once they confirmed that Meg would get to sleep in, we turned the channel and tracked the thermometer on our phones.

Hanging out with Meg this week has brought back memories of snow days past in Bartlett, TN. In 1988, eight inches blanketed the streets of our home in the Hillshire neighborhood. My sister and I were out of school for five days and made several trips to the video store for the likes of "Summer School" and "Dirty Dancing." While Meg, Heather and I have not spent hours camped in front of our Vizio, we will always have the rolling blackouts in our living room midst candlelight.

"Let's sing a song," Heather suggested, enthusiastically, during one 30 minute stretch of darkness last night.

"Let's not," Meg countered.

After a brief round of "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean," we carried on in a more post-modern manner: keeping our friends and family updated on Facebook and Twitter using our mobile devices. Late this afternoon, we learned that Meg will have one more day off. Let the memory making continue.

 

 

Movie review - The King's Speech

First, I can say with conviction that "The King's Speech" is worthy of its Best Picture nomination and that Colin Firth, Geoffrey Rush and Helena Bonham Carter all earned their walks on the red carpet next month.

If you're thinking about seeing it though Heather and I would advise not eating a steak dinner early in the evening and then taking in a later show - especially on a Friday following a draining work week. We were alive and kicking when we arrived to the theatre for the 10:25, but that was still an hour before our normal bedtime and we had each drained a Starbucks after leaving the restaurant. Once the clock crept past midnight, however, our eyes started getting heavy. With about 15 minutes left, Heather asked, "Is it almost over?" I assured her that it was and we rallied for the climactic scene.

So, as is common of any British historical piece, the pace of "The King's Speech" is slow and drawn out in places.  But the storyline - King George VI (Firth) reluctantly taking the throne from his loser brother King Edward VIII (Guy Pearce) and how he overcame his phobia of public speaking thanks to his wife (Bonham Carter) seeking the help of eccentric speech therapist Lionel Loge (Rush) - is solid and fairly easy to follow.

The film is propelled by the outstanding performances of Firth and Rush. The duo's give-and-take was at its finest in Loge's office as therapist and patient worked through not only the King's stammer, but other deep-seeded psychological issues that he had dealt with his entire life. Here the audience is given insights into what it's like bearing the burden of being part of the Royal family, however symbolic their roles may be.

If you're interested in learning more check out this interview with Geoffrey Rush. We saw the video that accompanied it on CBS Sunday Morning.

 

 

Suffering and editing take two

Yesterday, I attempted to make the point that modern-day filmmaking suffers from insufferable story lines and poor editing. Though my opinion has not changed over the last 24 hours, I did want to offer up an example of a movie that I strongly feel defies these notions.

On March 31, 1981 Robert Redford's "Ordinary People," based on the novel of the same name by Judith Guest, won Oscars for Best Picture, Best Direction, Best Adapted Screenplay and Best Supporting Actor (Timothy Hutton). I mention it briefly in Cypress Walls, writing "I am not sure if I have ever screened a movie so simultaneously powerful, delicate, and unequivocally sad." Given the tough subject matter - a teen's accidental death, his sibling's attempted suicide afterward and the seeming end to their parent's storybook marriage - one could argue that "Ordinary People" is as insufferable as, say, "Leaving Las Vegas."

But it's not for me mainly because the characters in "Ordinary People" are relatable and likable, despite the heartbreaking circumstances engulfing them. It's been a couple of years since I watched it, but I can't think of one scene that I could do without over the course of the two hour runtime. The suburban Chicago setting, a yuppie dinner party, a family Christmas and everyday scenes from high school all have aged gracefully, giving "Ordinary People" timeless qualities that hopefully will appeal to future generations of moviegoers seeking provocative fare with substance to accompany their ten dollar bucket of popcorn and five dollar soda.

While other writers and filmmakers have mimicked the framework of "Ordinary People" with success - think "Good Will Hunting," "American Beauty," and "In the Bedroom" - I maintain that pound-for-pound no other work of character-driven cinema over the last three decades measures up. I am, however, open to suggestions.