Saturday, June 29, 2013

Superman: For Thine is the Kingdom, and the Power, and the Anger. . .



For thine is the Kingdom, and the Power, and the Anger, now and forever. Amen. The doxology of the Man of Steel, according to Zack Synder.

The Irish know a thing or two about anger, it's almost a national trait. The cute side is Maureen O'Hara in The Quiet Man, getting all angry at her feelings toward Sean Thornton. Sean himself, afraid of getting angry outside of the ring, because he could kill a man with a blow. And let's not forget George Bailey, so angry at his life he wants to throw it away over something as ridiculous as money.

Besides my celluloid kinsman, my own Irish-American dad had a lot of anger, and I've been told people have worried about my own temper. So let's say that I'm an authority of sorts on anger as a destructive force.

What struck me in the Man of Steel was the unchecked anger of the beloved Superman, and the unchecked cosmic anger that Zack Synder and, dare I say, Hollywood seems to be suffering from.

Declare Your Superman Creds
To write anything about SM requires some context, the spectrum of his devotees is so broad. I'm in the ranks of the casual Superman fan. I saw reruns of the 1950s classic TV show for years in the 60s.  (I remember so clearly the experience of the two Lois Lanes, and vaguely remember liking the more caustic Phyllis Coates. That actress switch at the dawn of TV laid the foundation for double Darrins and Beckys to come.)

The Superman opening credits were the first that I knew by heart, I had seen it so many times. An English major in the making, I knew it was 57 seconds of perfect exposition (and the best TV use of the harp).

Faster than a speeding bullet.
More powerful than a locomotive!
Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound!

("Look! Up in the sky!" "It's a bird!" "It's a plane!" "It's Superman!")... Yes, it's Superman ... strange visitor from another planet, who came to Earth with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men! Superman ... who can change the course of mighty rivers, bend steel in his bare hands, and who, disguised as Clark Kent, mild-mannered reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper, fights a never-ending battle for truth, justice, and the American way!




I wasn't into comic books, or the Justice League, and I saw the Christopher Reeve movies when they hit TV, but not before.

But I have some emotional bond to the character and the idea of Superman by cultural osmosis, and the musical manipulation of John Williams. I didn't like the cartoony Lois & Clark, but Smallville was an excellent series, with the perfect ending (as Lance Mannion well knows). So this is what I entered the theater with to see Man of Steel.

[Minor spoilers]

I found myself responding to the super-moments: Superman saving the guys on the oil rig; boy Clark saving the bus of kids; Superman's birth history; the first look at Caville in the suit, with the cape flying behind him; the kneel down on the ice to the great leap into the sky. All iconographic, all tingle points, event for the casual fan.

And then there are the HUGE problems, neatly articulated by Super-fan Mark Waid.

Broad points:

Superman's oblivious, literal destruction of Smallville & Metropolis is horrific. The loss of life amongst all those building being destroyed is incalculable and obscene. This is not who Superman is.

Some of Mark's great lines:

"Superman making absolutely no effort to take the fight, like, ONE BLOCK AWAY INTO A CORNFIELD INSTEAD OF ON MAIN STREET." [I love this point.]

"From everything shown to us from the moment he put on the suit, Superman rarely if ever bothered to give the safety and welfare of the people around him one bit of thought."

"As the credits rolled, I told myself I was upset because Superman doesn’t kill. Full-stop. Superman doesn’t kill."

Grief, Anger, and 9/11
I don't know the whole Superman canon for examples of previous anger. The casual fan saw Christopher Reeve's profound grief in Superman II over the death of Lois Lane turn into an anger so great that he could fly against the rotation of the earth and reset time. Cool. That was anger channeled to do something positive. Plus, it was the beginning of the 1980s, big things seemed possible.

Zack Snyder's Superman is oblivious to the anger that drives him to destroy the buildings of his hometown, and then blocks and blocks of the skyscrapers of Metropolis. That's what's so terrible.

Here are interesting points from some real fans, back in 2006 for Superman Returns. The thread? Angry Superman:

•I think its an awful idea to make Superman behave in an angry irrational manner. He should stand for truth and justice and balance.

•Among all his other gifts one of his greatest powers was his instinctive knowledge of right and wrong. you cant exactly have that if your raging around being mad at everything. his cool head has kept him on top even in the worst of situations.

•And while it might be nice to see Big Blue go up against someone who could take a punch without their head splattering, the last thing I want to see is Superman throwing a hissy-fit. Save the angry-all-the-time crap for folks like Batman or Wolverine; Superman's supposed to be someone you actually like.

Of course it's really Zack Snyder calling the shots. One has to ask: What is he so blindly angry about that he doesn't see how over-the-top, unnecessary, fatiguing, repetitive, and obscene his last battle sequence is. Is this a sign of broader zeitgeist anger—about the collapsed economy, government hacking, wars that don't end, corporate malfeasance—that is showing up as a super serious Superman, a World War Z, a Pacific Rim of rock 'em sock 'em robots. Humanity is getting quite a bashing.

My own angry moments of the film experience came from the 9/11 imagery. It's stupid to level Metropolis; it's sad and offensive to do it matching 9/11 imagery frame by frame. Vulture's Kyle Buchanan used Man of Steel to write about, "Is it Possible to Make Hollywood Blockbuster Without Evoking 9/11?"

His point: "It’s lazy, it’s cheap, it’s deadening, and it needs to stop." Amen.

But it's the change in Superman himself that I find the more telling point.

In the days and weeks after 9/11, phrases like "nothing will ever be the same" and  "everything is now entirely different" were everywhere. They were empty words for me at the time, so trite, so small in comparison to the monstrosity.

A decade out, this change in the ethos of Superman, part of the very DNA of pop culture America born of immigration, seems to be a real example. Damn.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Bloomsday Meets Father's Day: Very Special Year for the Das

Bloomsday—June 16, the date on which the whole of James Joyce's Ulysses is set—and Father's Day intersect every decade or so, making it a special day of remembering and honoring those Irish dads out there, which would include my clan: Grandpa, Dad, and bro.


Grandpa O'Neill:
He would come to visit our house in Massapequa in the summer fairly often. We had a lovely backyard patio where we would sit together before dinner during the stillest part of the day, early evening. The sun had gone done a bit and it was cool but the breezes had stopped (memorialized by Hoagy Carmichael and Johnny Mercer as “In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Evening"). He would inevitably look out on the grounds and say, “This is the best time to put down fertilizer.”

Grandpa didn’t have an easy life. A second generation Brooklyn Irish, he had to leave school after the 6th grade to work to help support the family. He got a job in the mailroom of Con Edison, when the Irish ruled it straight out, and he worked there for 50 years. He had an excellent memory, and it allowed him to advance unhindered by his lack of formal education.

That his sons went to college and got advanced degrees---a lawyer and a CPA—was an enormous accomplishment, something which my dad always thought he didn't entirely appreciate, it was so beyond his experience. Grandpa was absolutely no saint—few Irishmen are—but that doesn’t diminish the sweat and pain and heartache of raising 5 children through the Depression and World War II and all that followed, along with a first son who died a tragic death in infancy, and a foster child who was taken away by the agency to go to a richer family even as he was trying to adopt her.

And so I found it poignant that in his last years, he was freed to worry about the best time to use the “spreader” to put down Scots Turf Builder, sitting on his son’s patio.

Dad O'Neill: I’ve written about his untimely death and my discovery of his teen bonding with the French language. He has been gone for so long that I don't have any more memories of his actual presence, which I guess is what happens.

I love this picture of him at the family farm in Merrick, Long Island. My grandmother had tired of Brooklyn and thought she wanted life in the country, and so they went. (They didn't stay long.) I think dad looks like a James Cagney tot here, or the character Peck's bad boy. He may be dressed in shorts, but don't cross him, 'cos he'll punch you.


So today my memory is of one of his catchphrases.

When there was a situation that happened that he didn't agree with, he would say, “A thing of beauty is a joy forever” in the most sardonic way. Yes, Dad invoked the opening lines of Keats’s Endymion as social comment. (And see, he didn't hold being English against Keats.) He was a very special man. Also no saint.

Bro O'Neill: A dad himself. I imagine he tried to correct mistakes that our dad made with us. And I imagine he's made a slew of new ones with his own kids. So goes the cycle of life.

(Updated post from 2010).

Monday, May 27, 2013

Weiner: Missing Classic Ad Doubleness & the power of "Retsyn"


The Mad Men recap factory is enjoying the doubleness Weiner wrote into the Mad Men episode "The Better Half."  But for a guy whose show is about advertising, he missed the chance to evoke his themes using the products and classic ads he grew up with, and that his characters would know very well.

Certs: Two, Two, Two Mints in One
Certs is the product embodiment of this episode's theme, as summed up by Alan Sepinwall: "The Better Half" was an episode about the two sides of ourselves — the person we think we are versus the person others see, or the person we are at work versus at home — and yet another sixth season episode loaded with doppelgangers and time-displaced versions of the same characters." 

The twin blondes in the 50s polka dots dresses is one of the early Certs commercials. The classic line remembered is

"Two [click] Two [click] two mints in one"

which was used for the campaign for years.  I never really knew what that meant, what are the 2 things? Here is the answer:



Twin #1: "Certs is a candy mint"
Twin #3: "Certs is a breath mint"

Voiceover: "Stop. You're both right. New Certs is two mints in one. Stops bad breath in seconds, the tastiest mint of all"

This of course lead to one of SNL's golden-age sketches:
"It's a floor wax"
"No, it's a dessert topping"

"Calm down you two. New Shimmer is a floor wax AND a dessert topping"



The specifics of the two sides of Certs were dropped in the 1970s versions, except for the all-important Retsyn, which is one of those ridiculous things that has stayed in my head.

Certs has a "golden drop of retsyn, the miracle breath purifier that makes your breath clean and fresh"

Certs: The Date
I have no memory of this side of the Certs campaign:

If he kissed you once, will he kiss you again? Be certain with certs. The delicious tasting candy mint that makes your breath as sweet as your smile

With Certs, if you kissed you once, he'll do it again. Make certain with Certs.



Doublemint Gum
The glory days of the Doublemint Twins started in the 70s, but the idea and an early version of the jingle were around in the 60s:

Double your pleasure, double your fun
With doublemint, Doublemint, Doublemint gum





I Can't Believe It's Not Butter
The episode opens with Don & Ted are in a creative thrown down on how to approach the new account, for Fleischmann's margarine. Weiner has consistently withheld the creative successes of the era from Don: no American Airlines; getting Chevy, but for the Vega; and now Fleischmann's, when history dubbed that these ads would be remembered.

Imperial Margarine
"It's flavor fit for a king"





Chiffon Margarine
"This can't be margarine. It's too sweet, too creamy" 
"Oh, It's not nice to fool Mother Nature"



And, for the record, the pich for both is solidly built on taste, not cost. Point to Don.

Sunday, May 26, 2013

Jay Gatsby & James Tiberius Kirk: Together Again


The kick-off to summer brings us face to face with two of the last century's big mythologies.

"Gatsby, Gatsby, Gatsby"



Al Pacino's distinctive 1990 comic book Al Caprice voice popped into my head from the moment I saw the trailers.  Perhaps not the association Baz Luhrman was going for, but the stagey, frenetic pace of the "Roaring 20s" party scenes was so cartoonish that it harkened back. And this was ages before I read Matt Zoller Seitz' review which noted the association from the visual side: "CGI cityscapes that visualize 1920s New York by way of Warren Beatty's candy-colored Dick Tracy."

The trailer/commercial cut was either a great strategy or dumb luck: the film has a more human scale than that sales tool hinted at, which is why the most common comment from all level of reviewer is: "not a disaster"  . . . ."

With Gatsby you bring your relationship with the novel as well as earlier versions, the Redford/Farrow being the most well known.

I'm not a big fan of the novel. I'm a Hemingway girl. It's not that you can't like both, but I see it in the Coke/Pepsi; Astaire/Kelly; Beatles/Stones binary world. So I approached the movie with no canon prejudices or particular loves.

Peel Away Stray Observations

•The Cult of the Blowing White Sheer Curtains.

At the Buchanan manse, we first meet Daisy amid a swirl of white sheer curtains, billowing because the tall doors to the patio have blow open.

It's a great image. idealized, pure, angelic, ethereal, highly romantic: bliss. All the things Lieutenant Gatz projected onto the teenage Daisy when he fell in love with her.

It's a motif I noticed in Jane Campion's film about Keats, Bright Star:

"What struck me is the shot of Fanny in her white room with the white muslin curtains softly blowing. It’s a visualization of the “bliss” that overfills Fanny after her first walk out with Keats. It also captures the soft, light feeling that reading Keats’s poetry can create."




•Joel Edgerton is all wrong as Tom Buchanan. A commenter on Vulture said it best: "Joel Edgerton’s Tom Buchanan: wrong wrong wrong. He looks like a LES thug, not a patrician, and plays it as such. Dern at least actually came from a similar background and knew the kind of bastard he was playing."

Am I wrong, or does Tom come in from playing polo, meets Nick, has drinks, AND DOES NOT SHOWER. It then is dark, so time has past, they are sitting down to dinner, and he's wearing the SAME CLOTHES HE PLAYED POLO IN. How does he not shower?  How does he not "dress for dinner?" I understand he's supposed to be a sort of brute, but Baz,  he's not Stanley Kowalski.

•Vulture's Kyle Buchanan polled: Did You Snicker or Applaud at Leonardo DiCaprio’s Introduction in The Great Gatsby? 

Most people liked the over-the-top entrance, because it was by someone who is a MOVIE STAR. I liked it best for the terrific use of Gershwin's glorious Rhapsody in Blue. And it reminded me a little of Jean Dujardin's George Valentin, the other self-consciously movie star, movie star.

•I thought the best thing about the movie is that it expresses more emotion between the lovers than I ever experienced in the book. And most of that is Leo.



Star Trek: The Timelines & Demanding Respect for the Chair




A.O. Scott makes this comment toward the top of his review: "You get a bit of that in the beginning of the new movie, the second in the rebooted franchise directed by J. J. Abrams, which takes place before all the stuff we remember from television and the first six feature films."

KFrost, Chicago corrects him in the comments:
No, it doesn't. It takes place in an alternate timeline. If you didn't get that concept, you probably shouldn't be reviewing the film....

See, I knew the whole timeline reset that took place in the 2009 reboot wasn't all that clear, and I knew that it was going to matter.

There is some clarity in keeping to just one detail of 2009: Vulcan has exploded and Spock's mom is dead. So clearly all the TV episodes where he goes back to Vulcan, and the other episodes when his mom comes to visit, could not have happened. But we know they did, so this storytelling is an alternate trajectory, not continuous prequel, and it doesn't replace or negate the facts of 1960s, because when you make up alternate timelines you get away with things like that.

I really enjoyed Abrams's first Trek, and the emotional connection to watching it in reruns for almost a decade as a kid. This one was less satisyfing, but still fun.

Peel Away Stray Observations

•I agree with all the people who say too bombastic, too many chases and explosions at the sake of good story and dialogue.

•Not a great script. How is it possible that Spock doesn't say "fascinating" even once? It was in his vocabulary in 2009.

•Lots of little twists with the villain. Those I liked. (Can't say more because of spoilers).

•There is one motif that is quite notable: running! Running and running by various characters through various vessels. Clearly, Doctor Who is influencing its American cousin in many ways.

•Christopher Pike demanding "respect for the chair." This is an immediate classic line.


Where do the films go from here? Do they continue to mine (some would say cannibalize) the original, or can they establish their own emotional connections with the 21st century audience?


I enjoyed my time with Jay and Jim, but I need to stay outside of the dark for a while now.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

An Inspiring Visual Revelation: To the Sounds of T. Tertius Noble


Sunday, May 19. Does anyone remember the weather? I'll remind you. In Manhattan, it was grey, grey, grey, and rainy ALL DAY. Sometimes the rain was heavy. When it wasn't raining seriously, it was constantly drizzling. And grey. The greyness enveloped everything. You could almost taste it.

In the midst of all this misty, water, precipitation, wetness, my choir  at the Roman Catholic Church of the Ascension on West 107 Street was giving a concert. It was a combination of the adult choir with the children's choir. The children's choir are neighborhood kids, not some chosen music majors elite. I admire their participation, since this kind of choral singing isn't the coolest thing for a 10 year old, and what they accomplished in the concert is truly wonderful.

The Music
The piece from the concert that music director Preston Smith uploaded to YouTube is the Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis in B Minor by T. Tertius Noble. That's a memorable name. He was born in England in 1867, and was organist and choirmaster at the great Ely Cathedral from 1892 to 1898. Then he came to New York, and was choir director of St. Thomas Church, the Episcopal beacon on Fifth Avenue, where he founded the St. Thomas Choir School for boys in 1919.

That draws a nice line from the glories of Ely Cathedral to the young kids around West 107 Street.

The Revelation
Here's the amazing thing.  I had a pretty good idea of how the concert went, from the singing to the dreary wetness of everyone slogging into the pews with dripping umbrellas. I was wet and soggy myself from 9:00 a.m. onward, with all the back and forth to the church for Mass, then rehearsals, and the concert.

Then, when I watched the video, I was astonished to see sun rays streaming across the choir loft. They are so artfully beautiful that it is almost like something out of Hollywood.

It would be surprising to see such defined rays on any day, because the church is situated such that other buildings, built after the church,  block the light, and it is only very specific times when any sun actually enters through the stained glass.

But it is bordering on the miraculous to see these rays, caught on the video, on the wet, dreary, grey day WHEN THERE WAS NO DISCERNIBLE SUNSHINE AT ALL THAT DAY.

And that's the revelation: sometimes you are surrounded by light, which you cannot see until someone shows you a different angle, a different perspective from the one you're entrenched in.

Please click and see. And think about this phenomenon, especially if things seem dark and grey in your life. There are always positive and wonderful things around you. You may even be bathed is sun rays, and not know it. Plus the music is pretty good too.




Photo by Jean Prytyskacz.

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Dorothy & Phyllis: Detective Queens, Amateur Theologians, & Moms





Update 11/27/14: Baroness James has now joined Dorothy Sayers and Agatha Christie in the great beyond. She died today in her home in Oxford at 94.

There are three great English writers of detective fiction: Dorothy L. Sayers; Agatha Christie; P.D.James.

Sayers died in 1957 at the age of 64 and Christie in 1976 at age 85, but the Baroness James is still with us, at a spry 92. And just last week she participated in a series of conversations at St. Paul's Cathedral, London, called 'The Mind of the Maker,' named after a treatise by Dorothy Sayers that explores an analogy between human creativity/creation and the doctrine of The Trinity.

This conversation with the Rev. Michael Hampel was framed around the James's own journey of faith, including its impact on her writing. (She is almost always asked, "Why isn't Adam Dalgliesh a Christian?" Her answer is that he loves the Church of England but would not be an active member.)

Hampel leads the conversation to Dorothy L. Sayers, who put Lord Peter Wimsey on the literary map in 1923 with Whose Body? Adam Dagleish made his first appearance forty years later in Cover Her Face.

Sayers was a serious student of Christian dogma, even though she remained outside the halls of academia. She believed her very best work was her translation of Dante's Divine Comedy, which is still used and known for her extensive notes. She wrote a serious of very accessible essays about the Apostles and Nicene Creeds collected as Creed or Chaos?

It's interesting that these two dynamic writers of detective novels—a genre that is loved by such a very broad range of readers—each had a deep, underlying interest in theology, which appeals to a very narrow swath of readers. Sleuths & Christian doctrine are unusual pasttimes to join up, except that you can investigate each eternally. Hmm.


Adam Dagleish & Lord Peter

For literary geeks it is a thrill to hear the creator of Adam Dalgliesh opine on Lord Peter and his creator.  Bits from the interview:

He (Adam Dalgliesh) doesn't develop as spectacularly as Lord Peter.

I think she [Sayers] fell in love with him [Wimsey] and made him the kind of man she would want to marry. An intellectual interested in religion.

She had a lot in common with Harriet Vane, who wrote detective stories. There's a slight bossiness about her, Harriet. And Dorothy was quite pugnacious.

If we want to know what it was like to work in an Advertising Office between the wars, we read Murder Must Advertise. It's absolutely brilliant.


And They're Moms

P.D. James married a doctor in 1941 and had two daughters. Dorothy married a Scottish war correspondent in 1926 and became stepmother to his two children. She had a son out of wedlock two years before, and asked her Aunt and cousin to raise him. So besides theology, our sleuths shared the identity and experience of mother.

James took the experience of giving birth into an unusual creative place with her 1992 dystopian novel, The Children of Men. Set in England in 2021 it tells the tale of a world suffering from global infertility. The 2006 film made many alterations to the novel, but it brought the work to a wide audience and James herself liked it.

From Caryn James's article on the movie: "As Ms. James said in an interview when the book came out: “The detective novel affirms our belief in a rational universe because, at the end, the mystery is solved. In ‘The Children of Men’ there is no such comforting resolution.”

Happy Mother's Day, Baroness.

A Literary Six Pack for Mom

Courtesy of the New York Times and SMITH online magazine, the Six-Word Memoirs phenomenon meets Mother’s Day.

I first ran into the Six-Word Memoirs in Lizzie Widdicombe’s New Yorker write-up in 2008. SMITH had run a contest: Your life in six words. Why six words? Lizzie believes the precedent was Hemingway’s short story in under 10 words composed to win a bet: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”

(This story is itself a piece of apocrypha attached to Papa by the playwright John deGroot in his 1996 play of the same name. Excellent explanation about it here.)

Regardless of the origin, the six-word autobiography is now well established because of the SMITH contest, which spawned a series of books: the original Not Quite What I Was Planning, (the winner of the contest from the 25-year-old hairdresser from Minnesota with the great name Summer Grimes); its sequel in a deluxe edition; then Six Word-Memoirs on Love and Heartbreak; Six-Word Memoirs by Teens Famous & Obscure, and more.

The ones in the New York Times submitted for Mother’s Day are witty, poignant, sad, funny, and spine tingling: a complete spectrum of experiences of the mother/child relationship. You can hear whole backstories in the six words.

Here are some where the relationship was sadly painful:

Her way was the only way.

Made me the scapegoat, thanks mom.

Never a kind word for me.

She did the best she could.

Single motherhood: think long and hard.

Never met mother; sent to another.


Then there were a bunch that I could have written for my Mom:

You know what's in my heart.

Made dinner every night. Thanks, Mom.

Most intelligent human being I know.

Six words is not nearly enough.

Whenever I walked in, Mama smiled.

Put on a sweater, I'm cold.


And here are my two six-word memoirs for my Mom:

Brother happy. I cried alot. Sorry.

“No lipstick?” Sure Mom, for you.



Happy Mother’s Day to you all!