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'Othello': I kissed thee ere I killed thee...

Forgive the lateness of this week's column, my fiends, but I must needs delay long enough to witness the splendor that is Othello.

Sorry. Once you spend an evening in Shakespeare Glen, you start thinking in Elizabethan English. I, of course, have a natural tendency toward it. (Ahem. What's my name again? Thank you, I'll be here all week.)

Othello is striking from the beginning, with sumptuous 1912 costuming and a steampunk set that seems equally at home for Wicked as for one of Shakespeare's greatest tragedies. The cogs of consummate villain Iago's machinations are slowly revealed - quite literally, in giant clockwork wheels behind the set - as the story of Othello, Desdemona and their cohorts unfolds. In all technical aspects of this year's production by Shakespeare Festival St. Louis, Othello is a masterpiece.

In fact, I honestly could find no real fault with this production. The Shakespeare Festival always provides above-average interpretations of the Bard's work, and even when they stumble (Much Ado in the wild wild West?) they are still head and shoulders above most Shakespearean theater I've seen performed.

This time, however, they've outdone themselves. Othello is in more than capable hands with Billy Eugene Jones, who sells us on both sides of Shakespeare's Moor with great dexterity. A soldier and a man, he shows us the tender love Othello bears toward his Desdemona with so much chemistry that the first act makes it seem impossible he could ever harm her.

Aside: If you think I'm going to put a spoiler warning on a 400-year-old play, you're hilariously mistaken. But knowing the end still made me doubt how this charming, loving couple could possibly be torn apart.

Iago spins his web across the stage under the hands of Justin Blanchard. As noted by an essay in the program, Othello is really Iago's story, just as Julius Caesar is far more the story of Brutus. But Iago is no honorable man. The number of times the cast blithely calls him "honest" is all the more teeth-gritting as his hatred and smiling servility smarms across the stage. (Say that three times.) "How am I, then, a villain?" he asks, and at once we see the truth of it: he merely sets the stage, much as Shakespeare himself, and lets others undo themselves. I overheard another patron call Blanchard's performance, "a brilliant asshole," and one cannot truly argue with the assessment.

Shining through is Heather Wood as a Desdemona with both agency and intelligence. It is far too easy to play Desdemona as passive; she is the ultimate victim, of course, the perfect loving Mary Sue adored by all and undone by the actions of others. Wood manages to escape all of that with inflection, tone and dignity, living within the time period that demanded she call her husband Lord, yet clearly a woman of strength and fortitude within herself. More to the point: she is a Desdemona who fights back, who strives to save herself and her husband at the same time, even when it is her husband who is the greatest threat. If you have ever eschewed Othello because you cannot imagine a wife blithely lying in bed waiting for her husband to kill her, you will not be disappointed in this production.

Extra credit goes to Kim Stauffer as Emilia, a functional plot device who nevertheless gets the groundbreaking feminist monologue in Act IV (at least, the feminism of 1604) and stands as the sole voice of righteousness in the final moments of the play. Emilia likewise can be played as her husband's mindless tool whose futile rebellion costs her her life. (Again: the play's been around for 400 years. Read a damn book.) That Emilia stands as the bravest character on the stage at the end, surrounded by cowardly, jealous men, shows that director Bruce Longworth realizes the true strength of Shakespeare's women, far ahead of his time.

It is not a short play; plan on three and a half hours from curtain, not including the always-enjoyable green show beforehand. (Extra applause for the strolling jugglers!) But it never feels like three and a half hours; the pace is quick and the staging manipulated so you are never confused or lost in the language. It is the first Shakespeare production in the park that has tempted me to return again for another viewing, and that's with the mosquitoes.

I strongly recommend this summer's Shakespeare Festival production of Othello. This is not the year to miss out, and very well might be St. Louis' strongest theatrical production of the year. The festival runs every night except Tuesdays through June 17, and is free to all - but I suggest getting there early enough to score a good seat. You won't be disappointed.

Bread and Circuses, or, Why 'Hunger Games' Was Better Than 'Avengers'

I figured that would get everyone mad at me. Deal with it, guys: Avengers was great fun and a good reason to munch popcorn (though not at those prices).

But it wasn't the second coming of comic book movies and it wasn't vindication for Firefly (which was better on its worst day than Avengers). It wasn't in the top five for comic-book movies, in my opinion. In fact, if The Dark Knight Rises is anywhere near as good as its predecessor and if box office ever had anything to do with quality, I'd predict Batman is going to kick the Hulk's ass all the way across the multiplex. (And that would be the only time that would happen.)

I've seen them both, because I want to see all the big ones this summer. And I must tip my hat to The Hunger Games, which lived up to the post-release buzz as intelligent, frightening, thought-provoking, brilliantly acted, competently directed and most of all, has the best heroine to appear on film in a very long time.

Meet Katniss Everdeen, a girl who lives in an odd mix between a Depression-era coal-mining town and a post-apocalyptic dystopia. Apparently at some point in the past, outlying districts of a future North America rebelled against the wealthy, lazy Capitol. It's easy to see why: the districts are the worker bees, poor and starving on the best of days. They mine the raw materials, till the fields, providing for the luxury enjoyed by the Capitol folks.

But they lost, and I can't wait to read the books and find out how. I mean, they had all the raw materials, right? Try fighting a war without metal and coal - wait, you can just ask the Confederacy how that one goes. So the strategic geniuses who lost this war also signed the mother of all bad treaties: each year the districts must offer two children - yes, children - between the ages of 12 and 18 to go fight a gladiatorial battle before the television cameras. Only one is allowed to survive.

Katniss' little sister is chosen, and before you can say Shirley Jackson, Katniss volunteers to take scared little Primrose's place. I knew that much from the trailers, but Katniss had me from the moment she begged her maybe-boyfriend to make sure her frail sister and useless mother have food. "Don't let them starve," she says. She doesn't tell him she loves him (maybe she doesn't) and she doesn't fret about her danger or whether he loves her as she leaves for her probable death. She thinks first of her responsibilities to her family, that they will go hungry if she dies.

Already a better story than Twilight. Not that it would be hard.

There's a lot going on in The Hunger Games, multiple allegories that show it to be among the best of science fiction in the finest tradition.

On one level, it's a familiar indictment of the bread-and-circuses mentality brought to reality television. We've seen the concept of reality TV as a battle of life and death several times before, notably in Stephen King's The Long Walk and Running Man. But I challenge you to see the Capitol people (dressed in the worst fashion since Logan's Run; if that's the future, count me out) and not think of the fattening Romans, watching the Christians become lion fodder for their amusement. Add a sinister Donald Sutherland as the presumed leader of this nation, read between his lines, and you begin to see how he controls the people: give them bread and circuses. They have all they could ever want to eat, and the Hunger Games to watch for entertainment.

And the people on the outside, in the districts? They watch too. The giant screen is set up in the town square. Only they're watching their own children fight and die. And they're starving while they do. Early on a boy muses, "What if no one watched?" Katniss, ever the realist, says, "That'll never happen." We're stuck with American Idol forever... but at least the losers live.

But it's not just a treatise on reality television. It's the most extreme form of class warfare I've seen in years, even moreso than the similarly-themed In Time, an underrated science fiction/action flick that put the poor vs. the rich in quite literal terms. In In Time, the rich live virtually forever, and the poor must work constantly to win enough time to stay alive, because time is quite literally money.

Likewise, The Hunger Games shows the quintessential caste society. No one travels from district to district unless they are on their way to the slaughter of the Hunger Games. Katniss was born with the coal miners, and she'll stay there until she dies. The wealthy, weirdly-dressed Capitol people will never visit her village. But Sutherland gives us his hint, when he speaks to the Games coordinator: a little hope can be used to control. A lot of hope is dangerous.

Put it more bluntly: you can only piss on the people so long before they fight back. Absent the bread and forced to die in the circuses, the people must eventually rebel. This has happened a thousand times over in history. And forcing a vanquished people to pay for their rebellion over and over again has never worked. Ask the Germans after World War I, who were angry and starving and ripe for a Hitler to lead them. Ask the South after the Civil War; Abraham Lincoln extended a hand of reconciliation, even ordering the band after Appomattox to play "Dixie," but after his assassination the Reconstruction was changed to punish the South, leading to 150 years of north vs. south nonsense that is still being argued in some places today.

That's the fun thing about science fiction: it tells us more about the reality of our own lives and our history, past and present, than it does about fancy devices and bizarre aliens. You could spend all day reading into the allegories of The Hunger Games.

But what it really comes down to is Katniss herself. I've often said I write my heroines because they're the women I like to read and I can't find books like that, so I have to write them myself. Katniss is a wonderful exception. She isn't weak; you'd never find her sniveling about some boy leaving her (ahem Bella Swan). She hunts to feed her family; she will kill if she must to survive. She volunteers for the Hunger Games not because she wants the fame and attention (with makeover!), but to save her sister's life.

She isn't perfect, either; in a position requiring charm, she has none, and her bluntness and calculating dispassion are both benefits and liabilities. In evaluating Katniss, I find myself turning to the definitions in Susan Isaacs' Brave Dames and Wimpettes, one of the more fun pop-culture feminist books I've read. To paraphrase, since my copy is still in a box somewhere: The brave dame is passionate about something besides passion. She is motivated by something besides a man. She stands up for something important, she does right by other women and refuses to get sucked into backstabbing bitchery. Her identity is not derived from roles others would choose for her, but from herself. She may be afraid, but she does not let her fear rule her.

I have no complaints about Katniss, and that's been a long time coming. She is strong without being cold; she feels pain, guilt and grief. She is intelligent and uses her brain and skills to make the best of her situation. She is not above using the tropes of her time to her advantage, but is never cruel.

SPOILERS!!! Better yet, the story may be about Katniss, but we never get the sense that she is safe. In most movies of this ilk, we know that certain people are "safe" because movie tropes declare they will survive. Some moviemakers delight in defying those expectations; Joss Whedon has done it so much that now we expect that defiance from him, which in itself becomes an expectation. The screenwriter and director do an excellent job in The Hunger Games of creating Katniss' fatalism with that tiny thread of hope, so we find ourselves imagining a YA story in which the heroine dies. I saw the twist coming, unfortunately, but not its exact resolution.

SPOILERS!!! I know there were more books, and I hope the unexpected success of The Hunger Games means we get to see them made into movies as well. I am already hunting them down, because I have waited many years to read a character like Katniss and I want more of her. I want to know why the districts' leaders signed such a bloodthirsty treaty. I want to know who thought that makeup was a good idea. I want to know if/when the districts will rebel against this ritual sacrifice. I want to watch a top-heavy culture collapse under the weight of its own injustice.

I want to see the movie again.

And... Avengers? Hey, it was fun. Glad to see Whedon can fill a theater at last. I absolutely want a Hawkeye/Black Widow movie yesterday. But although I think they're a little harsh on what was essentially mindless fun, Cracked.com said everything I wanted to say about Avengers and did it with more funny. Go read that. And yeah, see the movie. It was fun. It just wasn't the best.

Summer Movie Kickoff!

Welcome back from CultureGeek's hiatus! And what a way to start the summer - you've seen Avengers, yes? Apparently everyone has, or plans to this weekend. So much for the lackluster movie industry - let's see what Hollywood has in store for us this summer!

As per usual: I do not cover every movie, because Entertainment Weekly exists. These are the major geek films, with extra notice for "stuff other people would watch" and "movies you could not pay me enough to watch."

MAY

• The Avengers: My thoughts on Avengers probably deserve their own review, but since the movie's already out, everyone who wanted to see it already has… and probably will again. The short version: it was delightful popcorn fare, a real ensemble flick capably directed with only a few glaring plot holes and convenient plot devices. Predictable, but fun. The best comic book movie ever? Not even in the top five. But by all means, enjoy the hell out of it. Anything's better than suffering through Wolverine again. Also: I was not bothered by Loki's slur against Black Widow. Why? Because that's how bad guys act toward women who threaten them. In real life.

• Dark Shadows: If you were a fan of the vampy soap, circa 1960s or 1990s, you should be ashamed of yourself for watching this. Tim Burton is becoming a caricature of himself, remaking other people's visions into his own weird subgenre forever starring Johnny Depp. While we're at it, let's make fun of the '70s, because that's hard. Burton has always been hit or miss for me, and he seems to do his best when he's not remaking other people's work (Planet of the Apes, anyone?). Nothing I saw in the promos made me think "fun" or "scary."

• Battleship: Dumb premise for a summer action flick? Maybe, maybe not. From the trailers, it seems like someone had an awesome idea for an alien-invasion megafilm, and then the marketing people said, "Hey, let's tag it after a popular board game! That'll really put butts in the seats!" Apparently it's impossible to get a movie on the docket that isn't a) a sequel, b) based on a comic book, game or toy, or c) about sparkly vampires. Still, we'll check out Battleship, on the off chance someone wrote a good script before marketing got hold of it.

• Men in Black 3: After the dullness that was MIB2, I was willing to let this one go. I heard it was a time-travel flick, and yawns ensued. But that was before I saw Josh Brolin in full makeup as a young Tommy Lee Jones, and I must say… good job, makeup people. And good job to Brolin, managing to perfectly capture Jones as K in about 10 seconds of film. Will Smith is always fun, so I'll pick up the Noisy Cricket one more time.

Other People: What to Expect When You're Expecting. The promo looks decidedly unfunny, with an emphasis on "men can't handle babies" that stopped being funny after Three Men and a Baby. Named after the single most useful pregnancy book in the English language, coupled with plenty of Stupid Man Says Stupid Things and poop jokes, I expect it'll do quite well.

Hell No: The Dictator. I am allergic to Sasha Baron Cohen on the best of days. This, however, is so far beyond the pale I am amazed it isn't being protested, except that would give it too much attention. I am annoyed by humor that exists not to be funny, but to shock and horrify people into embarrassed titters - Cohen's primary art form. Cohen has tried the whole "furriner explores New Yawk" thing before, and then turned his sights on flaming gay men. Now we're supposed to laugh at jokes about terrorism? Dear Mr. Cohen: Too. Soon. It's been too soon for ten years and it isn't going away. It will always be Too Soon for jokes about terrorist attacks on New York.

JUNE

• Snow White and the Huntsman. Try to forget that Twilight alum Kristen Stewart's blank face stars in this movie. Charlize Theron as the wickedest of wicked queens looks to be awesome, with hunky Chris Hemsworth as the Huntsman searching for her through a forest to rival Narnia. Magic, intrigue, swordfights and critters… Mirror says give it a shot.

• Madagascar 3. I realize I am the only human that didn't like the first Seinfeld in the Zoo movie, and nothing about the promos for the second or third has made me change my mind. Perhaps I'm simply beyond the phase for CGI-animated talking animals.

• Prometheus. Ridley Scott returns to the Alien universe with a prequel explaining (maybe) where the aliens came from and what happened on LB427 before Ripley et al got all chest-bursty. If anyone but Scott had directed it, I'd dismiss it as a knockoff destined to die like Alien vs. Predator. With Scott at the helm, however, I am unreasonably excited. Then again, I did pay to see AvP… and AvP2. In the theater. Full price. I am shamed before you.

• Safety Not Guaranteed: This is one of those movies listed even though nobody is talking about it. Alleged journalists contact a guy who wants to travel in time. It was a Sundance winner and looks to be about faith and imagination… or it'll be dull. I think it looks like a solid Netflixer.

• Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. Every ounce of the history buff in me is opposed to the very premise of this movie, that Lincoln's mother died by vampire and he was a secret Slayer ever after. Lincoln as action hero, plus my allergy to Tim Burton (producing this time), all say that it should be a horrible train wreck of a movie. And yet… the promo strangely compelling. I am ashamed to say my curiosity may overcome my scruples.

• Brave. It only took 12 movies for Pixar to get around to making one about a girl. Brava to a princess who fights against the preconception that she should be a delicate flower that needs to be rescued, with bonus archery skills. I've watched the evolution of Disney heroines with great interest, and while I've never been as fond of the Pixar movies as traditional Disney (flying in the face of, oh, every other reviewer out there), I am hopeful that Brave will put a new face on the Disney Princess. It's not like they truly need it: Mulan, Pocahontas, Tiana and Belle each brought new levels of intelligence, strength and character to the pink genre, for which Disney never gets credit - mired down in Snow White's shadow. But girls always can use a new heroine.

• GI Joe: Retaliation. Okay, I'm the mother of a teenage boy. I was dragged to the first movie kicking and screaming. I was pleasantly surprised with a fun action flick, albeit one that rather ignored the laws of physics (ice doesn't sink, boys). The sequel looks to have twice the action and plot-what-plot centers on … being framed as bad guys? Oh, who cares? Big booms, fight scenes, The Rock and Bruce Willis. The end.

Other People: To Rome With Love. Some people love Woody Allen. I am not one of them.

Hell no: That's My Boy. It's a "comedy" about a young man who was the product of a female teacher raping a student. He grows up, his juvenile father moves in with him and is no more mature than he was in junior high. Because that's funny. Someone tell me why Adam Sandler is still allowed to make movies?

JULY

• The Amazing Spider-Man. Let's get this out of the way: Toby McGuire was a great Peter Parker and an awesome Spider-man, there was no reason in the world to fire him and the reboot was unnecessary, even if it let us get Martin Sheen as Uncle Ben. (Whew.) However, two things make me rethink my opposition: a quip from Spidey to a thief that tells me the writer might have read a comic or two, and the apparent placement of Gwen Stacy as Peter's girlfriend. The mangling of Gwen's storyline in the first movie was my biggest single complaint, deserving of its own column. Will they finally do justice by Gwen Stacy, or once again bow to the sanitized, neutered comic-book movie form to which we've been relegated? Stay tuned...

• Ice Age: Continental Drift. I freely admit I haven't seen any of these movies, and I'm ignoring the fact that continental drift happened over millennia, not in one cataclysm. I'm sure if you enjoyed the previous movies, you (or your kids) will like this one.

• The Dark Knight Rises. I am trying to be cautious about my enthusiasm, just because The Dark Knight was the best comic book movie of the new era and one of the all-time best movies of the century thus far. This Bane looks a whole lot more like the terror of the comics, not the mindless beast of the Movie That Shall Not Be Named. Anne Hathaway as Catwoman, Joseph Gordon-Levitt joins the cast and it sounds like Christian Bale has finally mastered the Gravel Voice as the trilogy sadly ends. Bonus: Batplane!

Other People: Savages. Oliver Stone returns with a movie about pot dealers whose girlfriend is kidnapped by rival dealers. It comes off like a charming comedy until bad things start happening. I'm not sure what Stone is up to in this movie; the trailer is practically bipolar in its mood shifts. But anything he does automatically gets some attention.

Hell No: Ted. Creepy-ass teddy bear wakes up and starts talking, and he sticks around to smoke a bowl with Mark Wahlberg. A grown man who can't kick the teddy bear to the curb even to get laid> Seth McFarlane thinks it's funny to watch Wahlberg fight with a teddy bear. May his career survive. (Wahlberg's, not McFarlane's.)

AUGUST

• The Bourne Legacy. Okay, I love Jeremy Renner, but somebody explain what happened. This series was about Jason Bourne as played by Matt Damon, right? Apparently not anymore...

• Total Recall. Remakes R Us cranks out another one, with a completely different premise beyond the existence of Rekall, the company that implants memories. They're playing with Colin Farrell instead of Arnold Schwarzenegger this time, and Farrell is capable of acting. It's possible this one might edge closer to the mindfucking intent, if not the plot, that Phillip K. Dick wrote. But... no Mars??

• The Expendables 2. I hate to disappoint Chuck Norris fans, but this movie was almost downgraded to PG-13 because Norris refused to participate unless they cut the swearing. So much for the tough guy. Besides him, there's plenty to enjoy: expanded roles for Bruce Willis and Arnold Schwarzenegger, who only cameoed in the first film; Jean-Claude Van Damme as the villain (who gets to fight Sylvester Stallone at last); and while they ignored my loud suggestion that Sigourney Weaver and Linda Hamilton needed to be in the sequel, I can report a sighting of at least one woman capable of using a firearm in this movie. Also: Charisma Carpenter returns, and maybe this time they'll remember that she's had martial arts training and let her do something besides whinge. Bonus: more Jet Li! Minus: no Mickey Rourke.

Other People: Hope Springs. Meryl Streep and Tommy Lee Jones seek intense marriage counseling after 30 years together. Someone's bucking for acting Oscars. Netflix.

Hell No: The Campaign. Because what I really want to do with my summer vacation is watch Will Farrell and Zach Galifianakis pretend to out-asshole each other as presidential candidates. I can watch that on C-SPAN, thanks.

 

And there you have it: a summer with potential! See you next week, while I start my letter-writing campaign to Marvel for a Black Widow-Hawkeye movie.

Note: Hiatus

CultureGeek is on a temporary hiatus, while we move headquarters to an undisclosed Batcave - er, new digs. When the dust settles, we'll be back to our usual snark. In the meantime, thanks for your interest, and stick with us! As Ahnold would say, we'll be baaaack...

Winter Movie Roundup

Welcome back to a fresh new year of CultureGeek. It was a rocky start, what with a week of malfunctioning internet and cable here at Casa CultureGeek, but fortunately we had DVDs. In fact, we had so much fun with DVDs that I started to wonder why the heck we have cable again?

Oh yeah, CNN. That work stuff. In the meantime...

• The Help. I snagged this one from The Film Professor, who rated it a good flick. I have to agree - I had it on for background while I did chores, and most of the chores went ignored due to stellar peformances by Viola Davis and Octavia Spenser as two of the maids interviewed by wide-eyed ingenue journalist/author Emma Stone. It's a look at Jackson, Mississippi in the early 1960s, the effects of Jim Crow laws and the society that developed with Junior League steel magnolias laughing in the drawing room while black maids raised their children.

At first I found it mesmerizing. I considered myself fairly well-versed in Jim Crow and the legal apartheid in mid-20th century South, but even I didn't know that society houses had separate outdoor bathrooms for their black staff. I suppose it should have occurred to me, in a society where there were separate hospitals, drinking fountains and other such nonsense.

And there's a good bit of cultural context: the assassination of Medgar Evers and other events fortelling the turbulence of the mid-sixties sets the stage for the tension in author Kathryn Stockett's Jackson. One senses that the genteel hostility shown toward "the Help" by their white employers is their sense that this stratified world in which they live is slipping away, and they will no longer be the belles of the plantations.

In the end, though, The Help seems more concerned with interpersonal relationships than the wider scope of the societal changes it foretells. We get a lot of scenes about the writer's relationship with her mother, friendships lost, whether this maid or that one loses her job... but the sweeping changes that would transform the South seem miles away from the petty domestic squabbles. SPOILERS! While it's a good, entertaining movie trying to make a point, one feels that the protagonist isn't really our doe-eyed writer, but the first maid herself: a lady who decides that maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if she tried writing on her own.

I'd like to read the book she wrote.

• I wanted to like Miracle at St. Anna. I really did. I like most of Spike Lee's movies, and this one opens with a bang: a middle-aged postal worker shoots a man dead at work, no one knows why, and he has the head of a statue in his closet. Mystery begins!

At first, Lee does an excellent job following Negron's life as a black Puerto Rican soldier serving in World War II. The prejudice faced and overcome by black soldiers serving in combat is definite and apparent, and while Lee can't help letting the soldiers speechify occasionally, it mostly shows by doing.

From there, however, it devolves into a confusing, meandering and far-too-long wartime epic that barely distinguishes itself from any other giant wartime epic put forth by a Hollywood that is far too fond of refighting the Nazis. It wants to be Saving Private Ryan in which the soldiers happen to be black, but it doesn't work; it doesn't have the single narrative thread that Ryan did, no cohesive story or objective that makes any sense.

Who is the Sleeping Man? Does the statue head have magical powers or is it just luck? What was the point of the love triangle with the only intelligent woman in the movie? SPOILERS!!! And I'm sorry, Mr. Lee, but no matter how powerful the boy became, there's no way he makes murder charges just vanish. Could we have spared ninety seconds of the ungodly 2.6 hours of this movie to show a not-guilty verdict or something?

I wanted to like it. Some scenes were very intelligent and there was strong acting from just about everyone. There is a scene partway through about a real atrocity committed by the Nazis, killing an entire village in a futile search for a partisan guerrilla fighter, and I dare you not to flinch or look away. It is hideous, and it really happened.

That, and we need more movies about the untold stories. There's a moment at the beginning when Negron is watching a John Wayne war movie and mutters, "We fought for our country too, pilgrim." It's pretty much a moment explaining why this movie exists. But it isn't enough to make a movie just because no one has yet; you still need a story to tell. In the end, you really don't know what the titular miracle was, and that's the big question that needs answering.

• It's pretty much required that all journalists see Good Night and Good Luck. A love letter to Edward R. Murrow, it portrays a time in which people were too afraid of the House UnAmerican Activities Committee to do the jobs that needed doing. I don't need to rehash Senator McCarthy and his misdeeds to you; if you don't know, there's no summary can do it justice.

David Strathairn plays a subdued and controlled Murrow, resolute in his intent to unmask McCarthy's witch hunt for what it really was. It's awkward for a journalist of the modern ethic to watch it, because Murrow's work really did become partisan; he wasn't just covering what was happening, he was openly criticizing McCarthy and the entire Red Scare.

Yes, McCarthy needed unmasking. Yes, the Red Scare was politically brilliant nonsense that destroyed lives. Yes, the journalistic world at the time was doing a piss-poor job of holding our leaders accountable for their fearmongering. But there's a line between journalism and advocacy, and Murrow danced on it - at least as director George Clooney represents. Murrow states that there aren't always two sides to every story, and as much as it pains me to disagree with one of my heroes... there are always two sides to every story. The other side may be completely full of it and so tied up in fear, hate and prejudice as to be worthless to anyone with a grain of intelligence and compassion... but that's my opinion, not fact.

On the other other hand, Murrow's belief that television news was sliding into infotainment and serving up pablum and diversionary nonsense rather than fulfilling its ability to inform and educate the vast majority of the public was practically visionary for the current mess.

It isn't really about McCarthy, but about an ethic of journalism that Murrow embodied and the rest of us try to meet... within our own ethical guidelines. I'd like to think that my fellow journalists have at least as much courage as Murrow's team, in an environment that is now far more Darwinian and less controlled than his time. I also think there are far too few in television news carrying the torch of Murrow's beliefs... or could even name him. That, too, is a thought worth exploring.

Regardess, Good Night and Good Luck serves as a thought-provoking story and educational for those who weren't there - strongly recommended for classes studying the McCarthy era, so the kids know how it used to be. It's a slice of history, and one that we would do well to remember, lest it repeat itself.

The Ghost and Mrs. Muir

Every once in a while I delve into old movies I've never seen, because sometimes you find the most amazing stories in them. They're the kind of stories you couldn't sell to a major studio today, and sometimes that's a good thing: melodrama was a true art form in the 1940s, sculpted like clay and just as sticky.

But then something comes along like The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. Based on a novel, it is the story of a young widow who breaks free of her late husband's stultifying family and dares to *gasp* live on her own - with her daughter and housekeeper, of course. Shocking!

Okay, it was set at the turn of the last century. Things were different then. But it doesn't take long for us to love Gene Tierney's Lucy Muir. In the very first scene, she tells off the most obnoxious sister-in-law in England (a snide Victoria Horne, and I looked it up because she literally reminded me of Margaret Hamilton as Dorothy's nemesis, the Wicked Witch). She has investment income from her husband's estate and she calmly declares, "I've never really had my own life. It was Edwin's life, and your life, and mother's life. Now I want my own life to live."

That's when I knew it was written by a woman. Sure enough, the novel was written by "R.A. Dick," a gender-neutral pseudonym for Josephine Leslie. It shows through more in later developments, after Lucy meets the resident of her new seaside cottage: the ghost of Captain Daniel Gregg (Rex Harrison at his most devilishly charming). At first the spectral sailor wants Lucy out of the house, but she faces him down with the same strength of will she showed her in-laws. Nobody tells Lucy what to do, and she wants this seaside cottage for her home.

This is rare for 1947 and even more rare in the time period in which it was set. Honestly, Lucy had me from the words "bite me," which she never actually says but are coded in just about everything she does. Lucy and Daniel are at first uneasy roommates, then cautious friends.

Then Lucy's investment income dries up and still she tells the meddling in-laws to take a hike - "shove off," I believe are her words. It's Daniel's idea that she should write his life story and sell it as a novel so she can afford to keep the cottage.

That's when Leslie shows up again. Sure, Lucy wrote down Daniel's life story... but she's a woman trying to sell a novel in a man's world. She is dismissed by everyone from the clerk to the publisher, assuming that she is bringing them nothing but a bunch of sentimental hogwash, dreams and poetry. She only gets through the door to meet the editor because another author thinks she's hot and gives her his place so he can press his advantage later.

Even when the book is (naturally) fantastic enough to thrill the editor, he assumes it's because some man dictated it to her. In the film, this is technically true: she was taking dictation from Daniel. In the book, as I understand it, Lucy only sees Daniel in dreams, and the writing is all hers. But she must pretend that she has some male counterpart who really wrote her book, because of course a woman cannot write the exciting, adventurous fiction a man enjoys.

Edit. Edit. Edit. I'd love to say things have changed but EDIT. EDIT. EDIT. Onward.

The Ghost and Mrs. Muir was a delight. The best parts are the dialogue scenes between Tierney and Harrison, verbal sparring that almost always ends in a draw. I loved Lucy from the start, her refusal to conform to the lifelong docility and passivity her world required of a widow, her strength of character and ability to face a lonely life with equanimity.

SPOILERS!!  Daniel begins as a ghostly pain in the ass, but with his decision to withdraw from her and allow her peace and happiness, he is more unselfish in death than he ever was in life. The world they built by themselves in the cottage was insulated from the annoying world around them: every time Lucy ventures away, she is faced with sexism, lies and stupidity. If it isn't the publisher insisting she introduce him to the man who really wrote her book, it is the discovery that the one man she trusted besides Daniel is married with children and was just dallying with her.

No wonder she retreats to the cottage and lets the world go on without her. Wouldn't you? Even then, she manages a full and mostly happy life.

It was a story about a woman who did not want men to lead her life. Ironic, then, that poor Josephine Leslie could only get her book published by writing as a man, and only wrote one other book at that. When the book was adapted into a movie, the screenplay was written by Phillip Dunne, who by all regards did justice to it.

It has a near-claustrophobic sense of a play or short story constrained within a movie, a heroine beyond most I expect to see in black and white, and a love story that manages to be beautiful without being melodramatic or squalid. One might be sad for the lost opportunities that pass Lucy by, but you can still admire her for living the life she did, under the circumstances.

I picked this movie at random, and I'm so glad I did. It is little gems like this, movies that use big words for small spaces, that make me wonder what we might be missing in the era of slapstick gross-out comedy and giant explosions in between overwrought, under-clad clinches. If you get the chance, check out The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. It's a spectre worth seeing.

Trivia note: Lucy's daughter is played by a very young Natalie Wood. Blink and you miss her, because she grows up very quickly.

My Soda Is More Manly Than Yours

I had to see it to believe it.

I love Gena Radcliffe's "You Are Not a Winner" blog, and as usual she nails it with her analysis of Dr. Pepper's new soda: Dr. Pepper Ten.

"I find it amusing, not to mention profoundly stupid, and if I threw a fit over every profoundly stupid thing I encounter on a daily basis, particularly in the media, the veins in my neck would be permanently bulging," she writes.

Gena is more sane and patient than I. Because I made the profoundly stupid mistake of checking out the Dr. Pepper Ten web site. I couldn't believe it could be that stupid and so blatantly exploitative of homophobia and misogyny without being a Super Bowl commercial.

 

And now the veins in my neck are bulging.

Do I need to start listing the things that are wrong with this? Beginning with the fact that I adore shoot-em-up action-adventure movies where things go boom and hate 99 percent of romantic comedies, while being decidedly female and even straight? Also that I never thought Diet Dr. Pepper was in any way feminine, just tasty?

I could not find the "game" to which Gena referred on the Dr. Pepper web site, the game where players shoot at "feminine" things like high heels and lipstick. Perhaps someone at Dr. Pepper had a breath of sanity and took it down fast. EDIT: Other columns report that the Dr. Pepper 10 Facebook page actually will not allow women to "like" it. Because the soda isn't for us, you know.

Ellen Degeneres cracked me up with this: "Do you want to offend half the population? The half that probably buys the groceries? What happened? We had it so good there, we were voting and smoking and wearing pants. And now we can't drink soda?"

Huh. Diet soda is girly. Who knew? I guess that means all the diabetic men I know better just give up soda altogether or resign themselves to a horrible lingering death, because heaven knows high-fructose corn syrup is just what God intended for manly men.

Hilariously, the idiots who run the soda industry say that sales are declining among regular sugared soda, so this is a way to drum them back up. The concept that men might actually be smart, and are taking better care of themselves by drinking tea, juice, water and health drinks... well, that's just impossible. We must continue to treat men like no-neck woman-hating grunting apes, and women like boring fluffheads.

Look, if you don't like the taste of diet soda, that's fine. I don't like the taste of high fructose corn syrup, which is why I go for the diet stuff. That's a matter of taste, not gender.

But as Gena says, if you're dumb enough to drink shit that's bad for you because you're afraid people will think you're gay, you're going to fall into a diabetic coma at age 50 and I will laugh at your homophobic corpse, you asshole.

As for the ads... "Women get the joke," they say. Really? Coke Zero and Pepsi Max both managed to create low-calorie, low-sugar versions of their drinks AND market them to the same homophobic, misogynist men without creating an ad campaign so over-the-top offensive people are laughing at the stupid executives who thought this was a good idea.

Well, people who aren't me. I wish I could laugh. But I ran out of laughter the last two times I live-blogged the Super Bowl commercials, and I just can't find the funny in men-vs.-women misogyny. Not in what it means about ad executives' attitudes towards women (which have always been vomit-inducing) or how virulently offensive it is to men.

The men I know? They're smarter than this. And vastly more secure in their sexuality.

In the meantime, I must regretfully set aside my favorite soda for the time being. I love Diet Dr. Pepper. It's okay for me to drink it; I'm a woman.

But I'm not giving my money to the morons who thought shooting at women's shoes was a funny idea for a game.

How To Survive a Horror Movie 2011

If you find yourself in a horror movie, there are a number of clues and tips you can use to stay alive. Every Halloween, we here at CultureGeek Manor try to help you out, based on the Darwinian rules of horror movies as first explored in the scholarly work of The Film Professor. To wit: Those who survive get to procreate. And that's fun.

So, without further ado: here's this year's list of ways to survive a horror movie. Happy Halloween!

 

1. If the house you're living in tells you to "GO AWAY," do it.

2. If you're a virgin, stay that way.

3. If a killer with a knife is chasing you around the house, do not go upstairs. Go out the front door.

4. For the love of God, turn on the lights.

5. Never split up.

6. Never stoop over to see if the killer is dead. He's just waiting.

7. Never get naked in front of a window.

8. Avoid the following geographical locations, even on a bet: Amityville, Elm Street, Crystal Lake, Transylvania, remote islands, lover's lanes, secluded mountain resorts and all small towns in the state of Maine.

9. Never pick up hitchhikers.

10. If a small town off the highway seems deserted, it's probably for a very good reason.

11. If your speedometer starts turning backward, trade the car.

12. Don't dig up strange-looking objects in the woods.

13. Never bury pets or loved ones in old Native American burial grounds. I mean, duh.

14. Don't try to solve puzzles that open doorways to Hell. Speaking of "duh."

15. Find out what your parents were up to when they were younger. You never know if they burned up a serial killer, had a mysterious "other child," are not your real parents, let a disabled child die while having sex, or opened up a doorway to Hell.

16. Ask yourself seriously, "Do I really want to float?"

17. If there is a knock on the door in the middle of the night, but no one appears at the peephole, do not open the door and step outside to see who's there.

18. Never turn your back to a door or press your ear against it to hear what's going on in there.

19. Don't assume it's your naked boyfriend/girlfriend under the sheet.

20. Never mess with DNA for any reason.

21. No sex in graveyards!

22. Keep the car filled with gas, tuned up, and for God's sake keep the keys with you.

23. On Halloween, there is no such thing as coincidence.

24. For that matter, there is no such thing as coincidence.

25. Never stay overnight in the old house at the end of town that's supposed to be haunted. Let them think you're chicken. Even if the prize is one million dollars. It's not worth it.

26. Pig's blood does not make for a good practical joke.

27. The guy conducting the "insomnia study" in the spooky old mansion that no one will approach after dark is not telling you the truth.

28. Watch out for the guy with an accent purchasing the abandoned abbey next door on the night shift.

29. If you're alone in the house and something calls out your name, leave through the nearest exit.

30. If there is no exit, make one.

31. When you've shot the monster six times to no effect, throwing the gun at it isn't likely to help.

32. Do not answer distress calls from deserted planets that never see daylight.

33. Don't touch the TV that calls your name.

34. When the power goes out, do not go into the basement armed only with a candle to see if the fuse is out.

35. Reasons to consider moving out of that great house that was such a bargain: bleeding walls, disembodied voices, too many flies, a room in the basement painted red that wasn't on the blueprints, phone service that seems to come and go, windows that look like eyes, next-door neighbors chanting in the middle of the night, a history of horrible murders, secret passages behind the bookcases, and all the women in town loooove to do housework.

36. In fact, when these things start happening, just set fire to the house. It always ends that way anyway and you'll save time.

37. There is no good reason why anyone's eyes should glow red.

38. The crank caller breathing heavily into the phone is already in your house.

39. Children speaking in deep, scary voices should be listened to. And possibly shot, depending on your movie's rating.

40. Oh yes, there IS a boogeyman.

41. If a kid says, "I see dead people," believe him.

42. If you just ripped your phone out of the wall and it rings anyway, don't answer it.

43. Clothing to avoid: high heels, dangling earrings, ancient amulets you don't understand, scarves of any kind. No capes!

44. Never break quarantine.

45. People wearing hockey masks, ski masks or any Halloween costume that covers the face should be avoided.

46. Don't back up. Look where you're going.

47. The crazy old guy everybody laughs at knows what he's talking about.

48. Leprechauns and genies really don't want to grant you three wishes.

49. The deal with the devil isn't worth it and the monkey's paw is not your friend.

50. Elevators going up and down by themselves have something wrong with them that a maintenance man can't fix.

51. Do not attempt to kill your spouse for her inheritance/life insurance/to marry your secretary. You will not get the results you seek.

52. The killer is one of your friends.

53. Reasons you are probably toast: you're a mayor, sheriff, high school principal or some other person of authority who doesn't believe in the monster; a lawyer, politician, CEO of a polluting corporation or similar sleazeball; a cop, doctor or similar adult trying to help the teenagers; you are obsessed with sex and/or drugs; your breasts are bigger than your brain; you bullied the hero; your name does not appear among the first three in the credits.

54. Never try to open the locked door.

55. Don't go in the water.

56. Pay attention to dogs, cats, horses and other creatures more intelligent than you. If they're nervous, scram. P.S. If the rats in the sewer are running, that's your cue to run faster.

57. When using a mater transporter, triple-check the pod for flies. Then check again.

58. Don't mess with the gypsies.

59. Never repeat any names while staring into the bathroom mirror.

60. If the price of that really neat knickknack includes "a favor," you don't want it.

61. Never take anything from a clown in a sewer. Duh.

62. If you're part of an elite military team on a secret mission, kill your teammates now. There's only going to be one left at the end, it might as well be you.

63. Screaming does nothing but annoy the dogs.

64. That quaint harvest ritual? If you aren't part of the coven, you don't want to be around for it.

65. If your intake doctor is John Glover, your shrink is David Warner or your priest is Max von Sydow, you're already in Hell.

66. There is a good reason why the town is not on the map.

67. Those kids aren't Amish.

68. Psychos do not explode when sunlight hits them, I don't care how crazy they are.

69. Never say the following sentences:

• Trust me.
• It could be worse.
• I think we've lost them.
• I know where we are.
• I have a plan.
• Hey, watch this!

70. You need a bigger boat.

71. Aim for the head.

72. Don't watch the videotape.

73. Don't pick on the miserable geek or the ugly, unpopular girl. You'll get yours.

74. Skip the shortcut.

75. You won't be right back.

76. The aliens are not friendly.

And finally...

77. No, it's not your imagination.

 

Film Festival Comes to Edwardsville

Film fans may have to *gasp* cross the moat and venture into the land of dragons to attend part of the Stella Artois St. Louis International Film Festival this year.

The festival will cross the river for the first time to premiere several screenings in the restored Wildey Theater in downtown Edwardsville - including one actually shot in Alton. Here's the highlights:

Joint Body, directed by Brian Jun. Marc Pellegrino of TV's Lost stars as a parolee abandoned by his ex-wife and barred from seeing his young daughter, who forms a relationship with a troubled woman (Alicia Witt) after he saves her from an assailant. Filmed in Alton! Screening: 6:30 p.m. Friday, Nov. 11.

Chico and Rita, directed by Fernando Trueba, Javier Mariscal and Tono Errando. An adult animated film set in pre-revolution Cuba that chronicles a 1948 love affair between a young piano player and a beautiful singer. "Gorgeous and sexy," it is presented in English at 9 p.m. Friday, Nov. 11.

A Cat in Paris, directed by Jean-Loup Felicioli and Alain Gagnol of France. An animated family movie follows a "hand-drawn caper" set in the alleys of Paris. Screening: 1 p.m. Saturday, Nov. 12.

The Last Mountain, directed by Bill Haney. A documentary on the battle between Applachian residents and the representatives of Big Coal, it will be shown with Among Giants (an environmental activist's tree-sitting protest) and Timber, a "comic" documentary about conservation of natural resources. Screening: 3 p.m. Saturday, Nov. 12.

Kurt Cobain About a Son, directed by Edwardsville native A.J. Schnack. It's a meditation on the late musician based on 25 hours of audiotaped interviews. Screening: 5:30 p.m. Saturday, Nov. 12.

Confidence Man: The Hugh DeNeal Story, directed by Robert Streit. This documentary follows a talented artist from small-town gigs to national touring to the Kennedy Center to... Leavenworth Penitentiary. (Oops.) The 8 p.m. screening is followed by a concert by DeNeal himself!

The Interrupters, director Steve James of Hoop Dreams. This documentary follows three "Violence Interrupters," former criminals and gang members who now fight violence on the streets of Chicago. One of the Interrupters will be present with the director at the festival. Screening: 1 p.m. Sunday, Nov. 13.

YERT: Your Environmental Road Trip, directed by Evans. It is described as "a celebration of the American spirit in the face of adversity, this thought-provoking, inspiring and sometimes hilarious documentary tells the stories of the creative individuals, groups and businesses that are tackling the greatest environmental threats in history." Screening: 4:30 p.m. Sunday, Nov. 13.

Undefeated, directed by Daniel Lindsay and T.J. Martin, follows three underprivileged student athletes from inner-city Memphis set against the backdrop of a high school football season. Screening: 7:30 p.m. Sunday, Nov. 13.

This is a small sampling of the 400-plus films and documentaries screened in the film festival. Other venues include the Tivoli Theatre, Plaza Frontenac, Webster University and Washington University, with many others. For full schedules and venue information, check out the festival site at www.cinemastlouis.org.

At the Wildey, individual tickets are $12 each or $10 for Cinema St. Louis members and students with valid ID. Tickets for the Confidence Man screening and concert are $15. For more information, check out the Wildey Theater site at www.wildeytheatre.com.

Men, Women and the Walking Dead

For a show I enjoy so much, THE WALKING DEAD is really hacking me off.

The taut premiere of season two was a boulder between the eyes as our alleged heroes survive a herd attack and search the woods for a lost little girl. The scene where two men come across a zombie and must gut it to find out if it’s eaten the girl is the most grossifying thing I’ve seen on network television.

Even more scary is the woman trapped in an RV bathroom trying to hide from a zombie, eventually dispatching it with a screwdriver to the eye.

I have not been turned off by the significant changes from the comic book. The comic is the most emotionally vicious story currently in print, and filled with real, three-dimensional characters that belie their spare, black-and-white art. I felt the TV show was true to the spirit of the comic, if not the letter, and adored them both equally.

But on the convention circuit these past few weeks, a fan pointed something out to me that I had not noticed: Unlike the comic, on TV, the women never carry guns.

In the comic, everyone is armed. Yes, shooting a zombie tends to draw more zombies, so you have to be judicious in their use. But still everyone is armed, including the children. The hero's seven-year-old son (who looks about eleven on TV) gets a quick lesson in rifle shooting, and it comes in handy.

Now, I get why AMC might insist that children do not get guns in the TV show. Never mind the end of the world, watch the parents’ groups sue the hell out of them when some kid (who shouldn’t be watching this show anyway) picks up a pistol and shoots a trick-or-treater.

But the issue of women and guns comes to a head in the season premiere. Andrea, who just proved her mettle by dispatching the zombie with a goddamn screwdriver, has her gun confiscated by the older Dale because HE’S not comfortable with her having the gun her father gave her.

And then when they go in search of the little girl, three men are carrying. Despite Andrea’s wish to carry, she is not deemed “trained” enough to carry. At least she gets the chance to call Dale on his overly paternalistic attitude toward her. While I might disagree with her suicidal bent, she’s the only voice so far for women who make their own damn choices and don’t blindly follow the men.

I have no doubt that equal opportunity and women’s rights would take a bit of a ding in the post-apocalypse. But it is the attitude of the showrunners that irks me, this “natural” order falling into place that the women deal with the children, supplies, food and laundry, and the men handle the hunting, protection and – of course – leadership responsibilities.

Even in the confrontation over Andrea’s gun, she calls on the second-in-command – a man – to arbitrate. When he rules against her, she stomps off.

Personally, I’d have decked them both and taken my goddamn gun. I’d rather be out there on my own and armed than following these sexist numbnuts who think I’m too girlified to know when it’s a good time to shoot a zombie.

Finally someone handed Laurie a gun – the only one who truly shouldn’t have one, as she’s pretty helpless – but it was too little, too late. Andrea’s belated show of strength was jarring because the women had fallen into such a passive state that any self-determination beyond suicide seemed out of place.

Don’t get me wrong: It’s still incredibly powerful television and a fine example of character-driven horror. Nor do I think that every piece of genre fiction needs to be a billboard for equal rights in every denomination. Frankly, if it was from a lesser comic book, I might not even have noticed; I mean, we’re not talking about SUPERNATURAL-level misogyny here. That’s like comparing a hangnail to a gunshot wound.

I just expect better of a series based on a comic book that took human beings and made them equal in the eyes of God and zombies. Because when the shit goes down, everyone better grab a gun – man or woman.