Lincoln, aka West Wing 1864

I should have wanted to see this movie more than I did, but as with so many 'worthy' films, like The King's Speech, I resisted seeing Lincoln a little bit, like a child resisting the need to eat his vegetables.

On the face of it, such foot-dragging is ridiculous: I am a big fan of Steven Spielberg, and of Daniel Day Lewis, an an ardent explorer of the American Civil War, and an admirer of Lincoln.  The obvious Oscar-baitiness of the film may be a factor, but as a film fan, that's a little disingenuous too, as it turns out a lot of Best Picture nominees turn out to be pretty good movies to boot, and Lincoln certainly is. It's not for everyone, to be sure, and haters of politics would do well to stay away, but those of us who find dramatic interpretation of the machinations behind legislation to be entertaining are well served indeed.

Lincoln feels a bit anachronistic at times, but not so much because it is a period picture, but because of the languid pace, and the length of some of the shots.  There are no sweeping panoramas nor epic crane shots; Audrey mentioned afterwards how so much of the film could be staged as a play, and I can assure you that acting teachers and casting directors will be hearing bits of Lincoln in the years to come.  Spielberg and his cinematographer, Janusz Kaminski, do some masterful work in light and shadow, without feeling like they are showing off, with the possible exception of one bit of lens flare, for which I will forgive them.  Fans of 1970's cinema (like myself) will very likely find much to enjoy.

This movie is not a cradle to grave biopic (thank goodness), focusing its attention on a specific portion of Abraham Lincoln's  life: his Herculean efforts to pass the 13th amendment to the American constitution and thus abolish slavery.  As a sometimes sympathizer with the South, I have sometimes posited the question, "If the War of Northern Aggression was only, or even primarily, about slavery, why did Lincoln until 1863 before passing the Emancipation Proclamation?  And why did it only apply to the Confederacy?"  Two deftly rendered scenes answer this complex question succinctly, and paint a very vivid picture of the tenuous political standing of a principled man who will end up having to choose between ending slavery, or ending a bloody and divisive war.

Daniel Day Lewis does a masterful characterization of the title character, capturing both the eloquence and humor, the statesman and the family man, with a stillness missing from a lot of modern films.  It is hard to reconcile Honest Abe and Bill the Butcher (from Scorcese's Gangs of New York) as being portrayed by the same man, but there it is.  With no films or video to rely upon, Lewis is free to create an interpretation of Lincoln which is very likely to shape how the man is seen in the mind's eye for years to come.

Sally Field is a sympathetic, yet challenging Mary Todd Lincoln, who disappears into her role almost as easily as her on-screen husband, despite being 20 years his senior.  The real joy for me, though, is in the supporting characters, most especially Tommy Lee Jones as the aging, crotchety, yet razor-sharp abolitionist representative Thaddeus Stevens.  His exchanges with Lincoln, among others, are what made me feel most like I was watching a period interpretation of The West Wing.  James Spader's turn as 'political enabler' W. N. Bilbo is also highly entertaining.

Make no mistake, there is a lot of politics in this movie, as Lincoln must maneuver and manipulate various factions and individuals in a very short period of time, if he is to have any hope of turning some of the lame duck Democrats (shocking how easy it is to forget that Lincoln was a Republican, isn't it?) to his cause and gain the two-thirds majority in the House of Representatives he needs.  Most of the story is taken from the book "Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln" by Doris Kearns Goodwin, which I will now begin searching for.

The fact that such a complicated story can be both clear and compelling is a testimonial to Tony Kushner's adapted screenplay, and though dated and sometimes ponderous, there are times when the dialogue is simply sparkling, and makes me long for a time when words spoken were oftentimes more considered than they often are today.  But there is also a personal story of a man trying to reconcile his household between a son who feels compelled to go to war, and the mother whose sanity mightn't bear the loss of a second son.

In short, if you can tolerate what is, at its heart, a political film, you are in for a treat: a great story, well told and well acted, about a pivotal point in not only North American, but human history.

The Faith of Mathesar

I had the opportunity to watch Galaxy Quest again over the holidays, with someone who had never seen it before, which made the entire experience that much more enjoyable.  It is a tightly written comedy wrapped around a very passable adventure story (which apparently is how it was initially presented to the producers, with the comedy arriving later on) which is pushed to greater heights by a wonderful cast, most especially Alan Rickman.  There are even a couple of touching moments, slid deftly in between the farce and the spectacle.

It's a fun movie to watch, especially if you happen to be a bit of a nerd, because then you can catch little reflections of yourself in almost every character: from the fanboys trying to ascribe a consistency and meaning to their favourite entertainment, to the existential crisis of the actors who find themselves wondering what impression their work may have left on others, or even themselves.

I've seen it many times before, and I'm sure I will watch it again, but reflecting on it this time got me thinking about faith.

In the film, the alien Thermians have patterned their society and technology based on what they have seen on the television series Galaxy Quest, a thinly (like, we're talking onion skin here) veiled analog to Star Trek.  Unfortunately, they have no concept of art, or artifice, or even lying, so they are convinced that the contrived adventures, last minute escapes and indomitable courage they have witnessed in these 'historical documents' are all legitimate.  After convincing Jason Nesmith, the actor who plays Commander Peter Quincy Taggart (Tim Allen), to join them in negotiating peace with their tormentor, Sarris, the other actors (mostly begrudgingly) follow suit, only to find themselves horribly out of their element, and facing not only their own demise, but the possible destruction of an entire species looking to them for their salvation.  Heavy stuff for a spoof comedy!

The dramatic turning point comes when the sadistic Sarris clues in to the truth of the situation, and makes 'Taggart' tell the Thermian commander Mathesar (brilliantly played by Enrico Colantoni) that they have been lying to him, and that not only are they not the heroes, but there never were any heroes, there wasn't even a ship.  It's a good bit, full of existential angst, and is the emotional lynchpin that the second act uses to slingshot us into the third.  If you've never seen it, go away and watch it, then come back and finish reading this later, there's a spoiler storm a-brewing.  If you just want a reminder, take a few minutes to watch this video:

There is a lot to take in here: Sarris's declaration that the humans have far more harm to the Thermians than he ever could, Mathesar's insistence that there is a ship, and that it cannot be a model because inside he has seen many rooms, and finally, Nesmith's persistence that no, there is no ship, no crew, no agency protecting the galaxy, and that everything Mathesar and his people have staked their lives and civilization on is a lie.

In the middle of a goofy sci-fi comedy, they tune out the action and the laughs for a handful of minutes, and frankly suck all the fun out of the room, leaving the viewer, like Mathesar, in a dark and confusing place.  But then something interesting happens; in fact, a bunch of interesting things happen.

Nesmith improvises an escape plan that utilizes the talents of his colleagues, and then begins formulating a counterattack in precisely the way a good commander would.  He inspires, delegates, and takes personal risks to insure the safety of 'his' ship and crew.

Alexander Dane (Alan Rickman), who detests the sci-fi trappings he has been forced to endure in his work, especially the warrior culture of his alien race, encounters a Thermian who has not only modeled his life after them, but found meaning and success in doing so.  The catchphrase which has been a millstone around his neck becomes a touching benediction to the one person in the universe who may actually believe in it, and, we hope, can take comfort in the fact that by Grabthar's Hammer, he truly will be avenged.

The other ersatz members of the crew pull together and support each other in a manner we've seen played out on starship bridges for over four decades now; in keeping with the mantra of their own show, they never give up, never surrender.

Of course they triumph in the end, this is not a documentary, and the reason we love happy endings in our entertainments is because there seem to be all too damned few of them in real life.  Mathesar returns to the bridge, complimenting the commander on his cunning ploy to convince Sarris that these humans were not the brave and loyal crew the Thermians knew them to be.  His faith has been rewarded, and they soon part ways.

Now there are a couple of ways of looking at this situation, the easiest being that the Thermians are guileless rubes whose naivete almost resulted in their extinction, and who only manage to survive to the end credits through the barest margins of blind chance.

The harder way is to acknowledge that, in the end, the actors who portrayed the fictitious crew of a made-up spaceship are as brave and loyal and resourceful as their on-screen counterparts, and that the tools given to them by the aliens they inspired with their fictions are sufficient to win them the day.  From Mathesar's perspective, Nesmith's assertion that their ship is only a few inches long, is completely ludicrous; after all, they are standing right in it, aren't they?

Sarris's condemnation of the harm done by the humans to the Thermians is extremely short-sighted when you consider that somehow these actors (and writers, and special effects and make -up artists etc.) have inspired an alien race to build things that should not work.  Thankfully, they didn't know it was impossible when they did it.

I've felt like Mathesar at times, clinging to my belief in things I can't display or prove, sometimes in the face of overwhelming evidence.  And I should say here that I don't just mean God or religion or spirituality or the soul.   I know some philosophers think of God as a construct, a stand-in for our limited understanding of the infinite, and that if He didn't exist, it would be necessary to create Him.  But there are other constructs like that, which we cannot prove or disprove, and have to take on faith : justice, for one.  Love, for another.

After their civilization was nearly destroyed, the Thermians discovered the Galaxy Quest broadcasts, and found within their simple heroism and complicated idealism a means of re-purposing themselves.  The fact that the actual events might never have transpired has little to do with the values presented, or the benefits received.  Their ability to take something patently fake and make it real reminds me of the Discordian teaching that 'all things are true, even false things'.

On the television series Babylon 5, another science-fiction television character has said, "Faith manages."  The fact that the words were written by an atheist does not make them any less profound, or true, just ironic.

Still, we can't rule out the possibility that I have wandered into the same fanboy trap as Justin Long's character, searching through blueprints and schematics and star charts, as much a theologian as an engineer,  looking for a meaning that perhaps isn't there...



[Transcripted:
Brandon Wheeger: But I want you to know that I'm not a complete brain case, okay? I understand completely that it's just a TV show. I know there's no beryllium sphere... 
Jason Nesmith: Hold it. 
Brandon Wheeger: no digital conveyor, no ship... 
Jason Nesmith: Stop for a second, stop. It's all real. 
Brandon Wheeger: Oh my God, I knew it. I knew it! I knew it! ]

...or perhaps is hidden in there after all.

Third Best Gift

I don't care if it sounds hackneyed, contrived, trite or provincial: the two best gifts are 1) family, and 2) the opportunity to spend time with them.

Even in a motel room, with only a miniature tree, and hastily improvised decorations.

Even when there aren't enough seats, so you have to open your gifts on a bed.

Even when your sister is distant, and can only participate by phone. (But you take pictures of your mum opening gifts and email them to her so she she can see them before she is even off the line!)

Even when you have to sing for your Christmas supper, as Fenya did for the pot luck at Mum's RV park.

Even when you have a thirteen hour drive across the mountains, and only a day's respite before getting to cook Thismas dinner (similar to Christmas dinner, but served after the fact) for two sisters and their families, but can not only pull it off, but look elegant while doing so.

But actual factual gifts can be fun too. Like this Nerf Mjolnir I got in my stocking!

Or this hand painted bowl my nephew lugged back from Mexico for me.

But if I was forced to pick a single coolest gift, it would probably have to be this t-shirt my sister picked up while we were in Jasper together for Thanksgiving:

One of my favourite sentiments, even if it is particularly topical during the holidays. Dad was fond of saying it, along with aphorisms such as "Attitude determines altitude" and the like. His absence is felt particularly sharply as the year draws to a close and family is near, but we will make it through, strengthened and comforted by each other in turn, the way he clearly would have wanted, and enjoying all the myriad gifts we get from each other.

Merry Thismas, and Happy New Year to all my friends and relations, near and far. May God stand between you and harm in all the empty places you must walk, until we meet again.

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Advent Beer 24: Rudolph Winter Warmer

I'm not sure how they decided which beer coincided with each day of this magnificent calendar, but the last two were probably my favourites, although, in the case of tonight's final beer, that may be situational.

Bad Attitude's strong beer, Rudolph Winter Warmer, tops out the scales at 8.34%, and pours out a murky amber colour, like a rich apple cider. Very sweet in how it presents, there are hints of caramel, and the warming notes hinted at in the name are definitely there. Other web sites describe this as an American strong beer, but I've never heard of such a style. It reminded me of some of the Belgian style ales (dubbels, triples,etc) than anything else. It is representative of a type of beer you would probably not have more than one of in a sitting, but a great way to end an evening.

The lovely lady holding the bottle is my mum, Helen. This is our first Christmas without my Dad being around since he passed in May of this year. We have travelled to her snowbird home in the southern Okanagan, at the edge of the Sonoran arid bio-zone, which for all intents and purposes, is a desert.

We sat in a church unfamiliar to all of us tonight, hearing familiar songs and stories, and when the minister spoke of how some people might experience a difficult Christmas, with an empty seat at the table, it obviously sank home pretty soundly.

Still, even traversing Rogers's Pass in the dead of winter in order to experience Christmas in a motel room is pleasant enough, if you do it for the right reasons, and with the right company. After church, we went back to Mum's RV, and had some ham, and cheese, and spinach dip, and an amazing salsa made with cabbage (cole slawlsa?), and the garliciest home made dill pickles I have ever had. I had my beer, and we all had some port, and we talked about what a great Christmas this one had been, and some good ones from the past, and it was awesome.

So when I tell you that this Rudolph Winter Warmer was one of my favourite beers of the two dozen I got to experience over Advent, please bear in mind that there is a multitude of situational context that contributed to that enjoyment that would be difficult, if not impossible, to replicate.

I really hope this doesn't put anyone else off trying, however, and hope all of you enjoy your Christmas beverage of choice, and the people you share it with, in the spirit of the season.

Merry Christmas, and God bless.

 

"There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say," returned the nephew. "Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round -- apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that -- as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!"

Excerpt from "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens

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Advent Beer 23: Chimera

The penultimate beer, my second from Italy's Birrifico del Ducato, is no less delightful for having been sampled under trying circumstances: jostled about in a car all day, opened by improvisational means, served in a plastic motel cup, etc. It probAbly has the best presentation of all the advent beers so far, with its stubby, almost wine shaped bottle and gorgeously illustrated label.

The beer itself is described as a doppo malto which I can only assume to mean double malt. At 8% abv, there is almost no discernible bitterness, making this Chimera almost more akin to a barleywine than proper beer, but it has a gorgeous reddish brown colour, and a foamy head I can only describe as luxurious. Delicate and complicated, even my palate could discern fruit, nuts and maybe a bit of caramel. This makes it both a seasonally appropriate beverage for Christmas Eve Eve, and after 10 hours in a car, it was also the perfect way to end the day. Looking forward to tomorrow's final selection!

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Advent Beer 22: De Molen X-mas Hop

In addition to making me rethink my perspective on hoppy brews, De Molen has totally converted me in terms of appreciating Dutch beers. This strong beer pours out a lovely gold colour, with the most pronounced head of any advent beer to date. X-Mas Hop has a tart and lively hop flavour with hints of citrus (maybe from the bergamot fruit listed on the label?) which balances out the 'hot 'and sweet taste of a 6.2% abv beer. At this point, I would be happy to try anything this brewer has to offer, so I hope to encounter more of these old fashioned typeface labels in Sherbrooke.

 

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Advent Beer 21: Rieder Helle Weisse

Even by wheat beer standards, this Weissbier is an amazingly cloudy pour, a golden yellow haziness that looks almost like a special effect when backlit.

 

I toyed with the idea of squeezing in a bit of lemon, but thought better of it. Unlike a lot of wheat beers, Rieder's Helle Weisse can stand on its own. The distinct tanginess is not unpleasant, and neither enhanced nor hindered with spices. Definitely one of the better examples of the style.

 

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