Murder on the Orient Express: Kenneth Branagh's adaptation of one of Agatha Christie's most famous mysteries isn't as good as Sidney Lumet's 1974 classic, but like Lumet, Branagh tries to assemble an all-star cast. Similar to the 2011 remake of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, the film is the equivalent of a new production of a classic play with a new cast and is worth a look. Branagh both directs and stars as master detective Hercule Poirot, who he plays as obsessive-compulsive and an aesthete. Branagh's a fine actor and tackles the part with verve, but you may find yourself entranced by Poirot's elaborate handlebar moustache as much as Branagh's piercing blue eyes. As the title suggests, someone is murdered on a train, and Poirot (who was just trying to enjoy a vacation) must figure out who done it. The scenario dictates a fairly contained set, and Branagh occasionally throws in overly flashy camera moves to try to open things up; they're so unnecessary they draw attention to themselves and away from the story or even the presumed point of the shot. Branagh's a good actor's director, as he shows again here, so I wish he had just trusted his skills and the performances instead, and opted for effective versus flashy camerawork. Perhaps the best scene in Lumet's version features a long, uninterrupted take as Albert Finney as Poirot circles Ingrid Bergman's character as he interrogates her; the camerawork is so subtle it's easy to miss the technique if you're not looking for it, but the effect quietly increases tension to the point of claustrophobia, anchored by a great, Oscar-winning performance by Bergman. Along with crazy crane zooms in Branagh's version, some of the added comedy feels a bit forced as well. Branagh (or the studio) seem worried that the kids today will get bored without some glitter. But in the end, we're here to see good acting, and the film delivers; in addition to Branagh, Judi Dench, Willem Dafoe and Michelle Pfeiffer are standouts. Johnny Depp plays the sleazy Edward Ratchett and has a great scene with Branagh wherein Rachett tries to hire Poirot. Star Wars star Daisy Ridley is also pretty good, and it's nice to see her do well in this kind of material. If you like any of the cast or appreciate mysteries, check this one out; there's a reason this story is famous, and although Lumet's version is better, this is an entertaining outing. Branagh might be making Christie's Death on the Nile next.
Mudbound: This period film follows two families, one white, one black, and premiered at Sundance before being picked up by Netflix. Henry McAllen (Jason Clarke) is swindled on a property deal and takes up farming in Mississippi, which entails living in a small cabin without indoor plumbing or any niceties; Henry's wife, Laura (Carey Mulligan) is none too pleased about the setting or raising their daughters there. Nearby tenant farmer Hap Jackson (Rob Morgan) isn't thrilled about what Henry demands of him, but bears it with good grace. His wife, Florence (Mary J. Blige), works as a housekeeper for the McAllens until Hap is injured. Henry's father, "Pappy" (Jonathan Banks), is a virulent racist, making for some tension. Laura acts much more kindly toward the Jacksons, and she and Florence help each other out in small and later significant ways. Meanwhile, Jason's brother, Jamie (Garrett Hedlund), and Hap's son, Ronsel (Jason Mitchell), are both returning World War II vets and hit it off well. Ronsel chafes at being treated like a second-class citizen after relative freedom in Europe. Jamie is likely suffering from PTSD, and cares little for racial divisions, but doesn't always seem to fully account for how Ronsel might be endangered by the time they spend together. This is a good but not great film that I wanted to like more than I did. Director Dee Rees gets good performances from her lead actors, particularly Mitchell, Hedlund and the always-good Mulligan. Blige is decent, but I didn't think she deserved an Oscar nomination for acting (absolutely for her song, though). Cinematographer Rachel Morrison nabbed an Oscar nomination, but the opening scene is so darkly shot it's almost impossible to see anything (possibly not her choice, and her other work is solid). For Rees' part, narratively, the opening is an odd choice to start a film and to introduce key characters; I suspect the execution did not fully match the intent. Mudbound felt overhyped, but it's still worth a rental. The racial dynamics are interesting, and it earns points for some originality and memorable scenes.
Darkest Hour: As with most biopics, the lead performance in Darkest Hour is much better than the surrounding film. The versatile Gary Oldman is made to look like the much more heavyset Winston Churchill during World War II and, well, arguably Great Britain's darkest hour, when surrender to Germany looked like a real and perhaps the only option. Churchill is pugnacious, stubborn, and has an irascible nature, angering his colleagues and opponents as much as they do him. But this nature, coupled with his accurate assessment of Hitler, makes him the right man for the right time, and Oldman tackles the role with gusto. The film ignores Churchill's bigotry and a scene on London's new subway system ("the Tube") where Churchill mingles with the people starts decently but then becomes painfully sappy and implausible. (Apparently, the real Churchill did mingle above ground, but never had a crisis of faith.) This is British mythmaking and director Joe Wright's least nuanced film, and I wanted more. It is worth seeing for Oldman, though, and more interesting because of Dunkirk coming out in the same year and those events playing a central role in Darkest Hour. (Meanwhile, Brian Cox played the famous man in Churchill, also in 2017, although I've yet to see that.) Kristen Scott Thomas, Lily James and Stephen Dillane are good in small roles.
Logan Lucky: Steven Soderbergh delivers a decent but not great heist film centered on a Southern family, the Logans, supposedly cursed by bad luck. Jimmy Logan (Channing Tatum) works construction in North Carolina but is fired. His ex-wife, Bobbie (Katie Holmes), and her husband plan to move out of town, making it harder if not impossible for Jimmy to see his young daughter anymore. Logan's brother, Clyde (Adam Driver), is a sad sack who runs a bar and has a prosthetic arm due to an Iraq War injury. Jimmy decides they should change their fortunes by robbing the Charlotte Motor Speedway during a NASCAR race; his construction job let him see how food vendors use pneumatic tubes to collect money downstairs. They need to assemble a crew, most notably their sister Mellie (Riley Keogh) and Joe Bang (Daniel Craig), a bomb expert who insists that the Logans also use Joe's two dumb brothers on the job. Craig's Southern accent is dodgy, but he's fun to watch, and the rest of the actors are pretty likable as well. Soderbergh keeps things pretty light, and most of the humor is of the bumbling crook variety, but occasionally the Logans show themselves to be surprisingly clever. Hilary Swank is a late arrival as an FBI agent and makes some odd acting choices, perhaps going for quirky but landing in the realm of the distractingly strange. Seth McFarlane is memorable as a pompous, British race team owner. Katherine Waterson plays Sylvia, a do-gooder running a health clinic who Jimmy used to know in high school. Waterson's fine, but it's a slight role. This is an okay rental, but it's hard not to think of Soderbergh's best heist film, his ridiculously enjoyable version of Ocean's Eleven.
Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi: The latest Star Wars flick is a mixed bag. For the new crew, former stormtrooper-turned-rebel Finn (John Boyega) and raw, developing Jedi Rey (Daisy Ridley) remain interesting. In this installment, hotshot flyboy Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac) gets to do much more, and Rose, an earnest rebel techie (Vietnamese-American actress Kelly Marie Tran), makes a welcome addition. (Her introduction was funny, a fangirl moment over Finn, and I liked that she's not a conventional starlet. I also liked that the Resistance was diverse but just as a matter of fact, never commented on.) Maz briefly appears, but it feels like a forced cameo. For the bad guys, Captain Phasma (Gwendoline Christie) actually gets a featured fight this time, even if it's too brief for my tastes. Of the old crew, Leia (the much missed Carrie Fisher) gets several good moments. Chewie, C-3PO and R2-D2 basically have cameos, although they're welcome all the same. Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) is also back, and get some stellar scenes by the end.
In the meantime, writer-director Rian Johnson (of Looper and Brick) has Luke walk away from Rey, who wants to be trained, at least four times, and it gets really tiresome. A visually neat mirror sequence when Rey goes into a pit strong with the Dark Side (shades of the tree in The Empire Strikes Back) doesn't really go anywhere narratively. Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) and Rey form a bond of sorts, but Kylo remains whiny, petulant and easily the least interesting arch-villain in the franchise. We get to see more of the evil-emperor-with-a-dumb-name Snoke (voiced and motion-captured by Andy Serkis), and we're told a bit more about how he recruited Kylo, but only a little. Basically, as with the previous installment, The Force Awakens (reviewed here), it seems as if the major story has taken place mostly off-screen. Although the Empire wouldn't just completely fold up after the destruction of the Death Star, the loss of a key fleet, and the death of both the emperor and Vader in Return of the Jedi, those were nonetheless four colossal setbacks, utterly demoralizing and representing a massive victory for the Rebel Alliance. How did the Empire's successor, the First Order, completely take over the galaxy? Where did Snoke come from? How could Kylo Ren, son of Han and Leia, and trained by Luke, turn out evil? Were the key three heroes from the original trilogy the worst child-rearers ever, unable to intercede? A series of Rashomon-like flashbacks with Luke and Kylo showing the same events from their different perspectives is intriguing, but the clips are short and leave us with many questions; Snoke doesn't really explain much more. (Bridging the gap between Episodes VI and VII might be something the studio does with its later films, including a new trilogy in the works, but it's a huuuuuge leap. )
The biggest problems, though, are with plotlines involving the newer characters. The center of the movie is a long-and-slow space chase with the First Order ships chasing the Resistance ships, who are running out of fuel; the First Order has developed tech to somehow track them through hyperspace, so they can't jump. Finn and Rose go on an implausibly lengthy side mission in the middle of all this to recruit someone to disable the tracker. Although Benicio del Toro's character, DJ, introduces some welcome moral complexity by pointing out to the pair that he's sold arms to the Resistance as well as the First Order, narratively, the side quest feels largely pointless – exemplified by a casino scene and a high-roller apparently just there as red herrings. Meanwhile, although Laura Dern is normally a fine actress, as Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo, she lacks steel and is woefully unconvincing as an authority figure. Her conflicts with Poe Dameron make little sense and scream of bad writing; what's maddening is that just a few tweaks could have solved obvious objections made by many viewers. (In contrast, in Poe's conflicts with Leia over the early bombing run, they both make good points.) Give The Last Jedi credit for a memorable climatic showdown, and many other good moments besides, but its errors feel awfully unforced, making them all the more painful. I suspect "too many cooks" was a key problem. Here's hoping the filmmakers stick the landing with Episode IX. Plenty more in the… (SPOILERS)
The film in general has too many repetitive scenes. Besides sulking Luke walking away, how many times can we watch the Rebels/Resistance flee a place? ("We're the last survivors! We're hope!" People die. "No, we're the last!" Even more people die. "Hey now, we're the last!")
My two major issues with The Last Jedi, though, focus on Vice-Admiral Holdo and the presentation of Force training. I've seen several defenses of Holdo, some asserting that Johnson was going for a subversion of stereotypes – having a more conventionally "feminine" woman, seemingly dressed for a social engagement, in a position of top authority. I agree that Johnson was probably going for this – Poe Dameron even says she's not what he expected. It's an interesting idea, but the problem is, I don't think the film sells it well at all. A steelier performance by Dern with Holdo getting angry or calmly brutal with Poe could have sold the withholding of information, even as an mistaken overraction fueled by a legitimate need to assert control. As it is, there's no reason for Holdo not to tell Poe her plan, if not the entire fleet. (Poe immediately back her when he understands.) She doesn't even say anything like, "Don't panic – we have a plan, but we can't reveal it just yet to everyone." Instead, Poe confronts her publicly, and she meekly stands there, looking scared, and stays mute. Performance-wise, Dern was far pluckier in Jurassic Park, for just one example. Cate Blanchett played Queen Elizabeth in two movies and commanded authority in gowns; she does much the same as Galadriel in The Lord of the Rings. In The West Wing, Anna Deavere Smith as National Security Advisor Dr. Nancy McNally had a great scene where she's in a gown at some function and then an emergency breaks out. She goes down to the situation room and after getting things rolling, asks something like, 'and someone get me a change of clothes, I feel like an idiot.' The problem is that the filmmakers wanted a particular plotline – Poe's rebellion and then, oooh! surprise! Leia backing Holdo! – but to do so, they had to make Holdo an inept idiot first. I like Johnson's previous work so I was disappointed, although who knows how much these and other bad story decisions were studio-driven; still, forcing situations like this rather than selling them plausibly is just bad writing/storytelling. (Holdo does go out with style, however – although I had to wonder why the Star Wars universe wouldn't develop warp torpedoes.)
As for Force training, I understand not wanting to completely remake Empire, although given that The Force Awakens essentially remakes A New Hope, why not borrow from its sequel, the best film in the series, Empire? We all wanted to see Luke train Rey for a reason; the mentor-apprentice relationship is key to the franchise, no one should be able to wield the Force well without training, and that would also just be less interesting. Largely rejecting that legacy seems like an awfully odd choice, with little value gained for the sake of being different. I thought Luke was too pouty and one-note, although giving him some moments of humor was good. I also liked Luke's words about there being no Force pedigree; this seemed to be a direct rebuke to one of Lucas' worst decisions from the prequels, the introduction of midichlorians, which suggested that becoming one with the Force had a genetic component and a predestined one, rather than it being a matter of individual attitude and effort. The midichlorians suggested that Lucas was dead to the magic of his own works and their enormous appeal, and that he had turned his back on – or never truly understood – some of the Zen Buddhism the series drew on (particularly in Empire). Likewise, it was interesting to see the burning-the-tree scene, which was a classic Zen thing; several Zen stories focus on burning sacred texts lest one rely on them too much. (Although Rey apparently saves them, so the lesson is more focused on Luke in a welcome return from Yoda.) That said, I didn't like the idea of Rey not needing mentoring. I'm just not a fan of stories with raw power without training (even if it's merely self-training/practice) or any genius-without-effort tropes (Good Will Hunting, or the 'you're a demigod' stuff of the Clash of the Titans remake or Percy Jackson, so just use that power to beat anyone). It runs counter to the no-Force-pedigree idea and means the character with power doesn't really grow. On this note, the Dark Side pit sequence didn't seem to go anywhere – granted, the tree sequence in Empire is one of the most profound in cinema, and it'd be hard to match – and the pit sequence with doppelgangers was at least visually interesting. But then Rey's just out of it. How did she get out? What did she learn? What is she now questioning? (Is there a cut scene?) If Force Ghost Luke helps Rey out in the final episode, okay, or maybe she pores over the Jedi books she apparently saved and does her best studying by herself. Otherwise, how is she supposed to progress and challenge Kylo, who's been established as really powerful? (That was also a problem in Episode VII.)
Last thoughts: Hamill criticized how his character was written in Last Jedi, but then publicly apologized for diplomatic reasons; I think he had a point. However, I do think the film gives Luke a great sendoff. I liked that, in his fight with Kylo, Luke was completely nonviolent and that the film provides several visual cues to his secret – his beard is less grey, he doesn't leave marks in the sand on the ground, he fights with a lightsaber we've seen destroyed, and, if you watch the film again, both Leia and C-3PO seem to realize Luke is not really there. The fight buys time for the Resistance, and by not actually dying at his hand, Luke frustrates Kylo and robs of a propaganda coup. I wish the rest of the movie was as well thought out; here's hoping the best for Episode IX.
Wonder Woman:Wonder Woman is an above-average superhero movie and was a summer cultural phenomenon. Wonder Woman is probably the most famous female superhero, and Wonder Woman is really the first good DC comics movie since Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy. Director Patty Jenkins becomes the first woman to helm a superhero blockbuster, with its appeal to female moviegoers playing a huge part of its success. Diana/Wonder Woman (Gal Gadot) is supposedly not born, but crafted from clay by the Greek god Zeus, growing up on the magically hidden island Themyscira (Paradise Island in some of the comics), where the all-female Amazon warriors train to defend the world from the Greek god of war, Ares. One day, the illusion that hides the island is crossed accidentally by an American pilot working with the British during World War I, Steve Trevor (Chris Pine). The Amazons help Steve defeat some pursuing Germans, he tells them what's happening in the outside world, and Diana is convinced that only Ares could be behind the war. She steals the "godkiller" sword that supposedly can slay Ares, and taking her magic lasso and armor, leaves with Steve for London; he's carrying news about a lethal gas being developed by a German evil scientist, Isabel Maru (Elena Anaya), aided by German general, Erich Ludendorff (Danny Huston). Diana and Steve manage to convince the British high command of the peril, and they assemble a team to somehow get into German territory.
The core of Wonder Woman's success is Gal Gadot's performance as Diana/Wonder Woman. She's tall, athletic, and convincing in the action scenes, has charisma, and shows not only wit but deep compassion. She and Pine have great chemistry together, providing both humorous banter and plenty of flirtation. The film provides several memorable scenes, including a montage of Diana trying out British women's clothing in London, testing the outfits for the ability to fight in them (most fall short, of course). Diana dealing with a sniper in a tower is impressive and also funny, and a charge she leads across No Man's Land may be the most striking sequence of the film. Diana is a heroine not because she overcomes emotion, but because she feels it, and her compassion for the victims of war both defines the character and drives the plot. I also appreciate that the film is set in World War I and isn't yet another World War II flick; the later war has many great films about it, of course, but also plenty of mediocre ones and the subject is just overdone. I think the First World War is too little remembered and its dynamics (more moral complexity, mass slaughter, dehumanization) make a much better fit for the main character's journey.
The film has some issues, though. The Amazon mythology isn't really explained; in the comics, the Amazons are supposed to be immortal, but in the movie, viewers might be left wondering how an island of only women reproduces or persists. The Amazon actresses adopt an invented "Themysciran" accent, but they're not consistent, which occasionally makes for some unintentional comedy, as when Connie Nielsen as Queen Hippolyta asks Steve Trevor, "What eess your meeeshun?" The final battle opts for visual effect spectacle over human (or demigod) drama, which is typical for the genre but remains a choice I almost always dislike. It seems like a wasted opportunity given the strength of the movie's best scenes, which trust the performances by Gadot and the other actors. Still, the movie's worth checking out if you haven't already.
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The movie's version of Greek mythology is rather odd, starting with the introductory narration, with Zeus wounding Ares but Ares killing Zeus. No other gods exist, apparently, or they're not named. And lightning bolts are kind of sky god Zeus' thing, but Ares shoots them in the finale… and at Zeus' daughter. Huh? Why not tone down the silly light show and let Gal Gadot and David Thewlis act more instead? Or at least have an actual fight with that sword versus floating, not touching and shooting lightning?
Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2: It's not as good as the first movie (reviewed here), but it's still a lot of fun, and develops a few of the secondary characters nicely. The Guardians are hired by the Sovereign – a haughty, gold-skinned race that considers itself superior to everyone else – to defend special energy batteries from an interdimensional monster (with plenty of teeth and tentacles, naturally). This leads to an entertaining opening credits sequence. The feat also earns the Guardians Gamora's half-sister, Nebula (Karen Gillan) as payment, but Rocket reverts to his scoundrel ways, earning the enmity of the Sovereign. Soon the Guardians are being pursued by the Sovereign as well as Yondu (Michael Rooker) and his crew. Luckily, they're saved by the mysterious Ego (Kurt Russell), who claims to be the father of Peter Quill/Star-Lord (Chris Pratt). The humor works well, as you'd expect, and we get to know Rocket, Yondu, and Drax better. Nebula and Gamora (Zoe Saldana) have a number of good scenes together, and we gain new insight into their complicated relationship. Pom Klementieff is a standout as Mantis, an empath with antenna and large, dark eyes. She's socially awkward because she's grown up knowing only Ego, leading to some good comedy but also some more poignant moments. I didn't like that the big finale was so visual-effects-heavy; I know that's a common Hollywood decision, but the first film's big finale focused more on the characters (although thankfully, the very end of the big showdown here does). There's an odd discontinuity with Gamora urging Quill to reunite with his father and then feeling rebuffed for it. Sylvester Stallone gives a painfully overbaked, grim performance in a small role. Still, this is a fun summer flick.
Thor: Ragnarok: The third solo Thor film has fun moments, but Marvel decided to make it too much like Guardians of the Galaxy and cram it with jokes, which doesn't always work well for its main character. This time around, Hela (Cate Blanchett), the Norse goddess of death, arrives to take over Asgard and destroys Thor's powerful magical hammer, Mjolnir, leaving him at a grave disadvantage. If that weren't enough, Thor is kidnapped and forced to fight in gladiatorial bouts by the wry, decadent Grandmaster (Jeff Goldblum), and Loki is no real help. Can Thor find true power within himself, gather friends and save the day? Director Taika Waititi is best known in the U.S. for the funny 2014 vampire mockumentary What We Do in the Shadows (reviewed here) and also voices rockman gladiator Korg, delivering improv riffs throughout. On the plus side, Blanchett is fabulous as Hela, bringing a powerful, regal bearing to the character (complete with occasional Jack Kirby lattice horns) and even a goth sexiness. Chris Hemsworth continues to make a good Thor, and Tom Hiddleston is great as always as Loki. Mark Ruffalo as Bruce Banner/the Hulk mainly provides comic relief but also some more tender moments, and his marquee fight against Thor (advertised in all the trailers) is fun. Tessa Thompson is okay playing a drunken former Valkyrie turned kind of bounty hunter/slaver, but the American Thompson's accent veers considerably, occasionally ending up oddly cockney. The beats of the final fight feel a bit by-the-numbers. The use of Led Zepplin's "Immigrant Song" (also used in the trailers) is likewise unsurprising, but admittedly awesome nonetheless.
Some of the gags are funny, but others are predictable. Waititi's improv riffs as Korg, helping Thor pick out weapons, work well for that scene; funny, but also reinforcing the underlying peril. The same approach doesn't work as well elsewhere, and the worst instances feel forced, obvious or out of character (the Banner "bounce"; an Asgardian saying "We don't know who you are" to Hela after she's just announced herself simply to set up her quip back; Thor being scared, or awkward, or constantly bantering). The best moments of humor are based in understanding the characters and their relationships. Thor works better as a comedic straight man, not a quip machine. For example, as noted in our review of the first Thor movie (it's the 15th film reviewed here), that film "has a number of funny moments, most of all from Hemsworth being incongruously lordly, as when he bursts into a pet shop and demands a horse. (Female lust for the hunky Thor also is a frequent source of humor.)" Likewise, the best humor in Ragnarok stems from understanding the characters. Loki's self-aggrandizing little play is funny but also in character for him, as is Thor's method for breaking it up (borrowed from Walter Simonson's wonderful run on the Thor comic book). Consider also the "get help" bit and the elevator scene right before it; as in each of the three films, Thor disarms Loki with surprising sincerity and affection. The "get help" bit itself is funny and advances the plot, but the two scenes together also capture the heart of Thor and Loki's long relationship as brothers: competition, some irritation, but also a sense of devotion underneath. It's great stuff, and I continue to wish the Marvel team would make the Thor and Loki relationship more central to the films and ditch some of the visual effect spectacle. The actors have become friends in real life and have great screen chemistry. Mythology and other discussion in the…
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In the comics, Marvel made Loki Thor's step-brother rather than his step-uncle, which worked pretty well for the storylines, but kept fairly close to basic aspects of Norse mythology otherwise (except for making Sif's golden hair black and the like, but Marvel even retold a classic Norse tale for an annual issue to account for that). Meanwhile, Hel (or Hela) is Loki's daughter in mythology, and Fenris/Fenrir the wolf is her brother. I kind of get why Marvel didn't want Loki to have kids, but the invented story of Hel conquering the realms with Mjolnir and Odin seemed odd and a bit silly; it's a huge bit of backstory invented by the screenwriters but doesn't wind up mattering much. Likewise, Odin's death felt like just a way to write out actor Anthony Hopkins. Also, I must register a geek protest: Mjolnir cannot be destroyed in either mythology or the comics, and it's a cool, legendary weapon, so I hope it eventually comes back. It was kind of fun to see the Hulk fight Fenris, even if it was painfully obvious that Banner would "bounce" on the bridge and that really should have killed him if he wasn't transformed.
Alien: Covenant: You know the drill: the nightmarish alien xenomorphs (or in this case, the earlier form neomorphs) terrorize and kill a bunch of humans accompanied by an android. The Covenant, a colony spaceship crewed by married couples, experiences a bad accident and makes a detour when they pick up a distress call from a nearby habitable planet. The usual mayhem ensues. Ridley Scott helming the previous entry in the Alien franchise, 2012's Prometheus (the first film reviewed here) meant a great visual style, plenty of atmosphere and some good performances, but also bad story moments so inexplicable and unnecessary many viewers were pulled out. Some of the actors are appealing in this one, too, especially Michael Fassbender in a dual role (the android David from Prometheus and Walter, a new android) and Katherine Waterson as traumatized, weepy but plucky Daniels. Danny McBride, normally a comic actor, is surprisingly good as country-music-lovin', ace pilot with nerves-of-steel Tennessee. The David-Walter scenes are intriguing, and a few scenes (medical experiments, etc.) are genuinely creepy. At one point, the film's title was Alien: Paradise Lost, and thematically, the film owes a great deal to Milton's Satan, Frankenstein and the Romantic poets, which some literary-inclined viewers might appreciate (and some critics found pretentious). But ultimately, the film holds few surprises and, as in Prometheus, presents supposedly smart characters making really stupid and inexplicable decisions. That makes it hard to root for anyone. At this point, the best reason for seeing Alien: Covenant is being a completionist and wanting to finish out the series; unfortunately, there's not much inherent value. The film didn't do that well at the box office, which reportedly may mean that only one more Alien prequel may be made rather than a planned two. Sadly, that's welcome news, given that the series has produced two great films, Alien and Aliens, but none of the next four (six if you count the Predator crossovers) have been very good (even if some have had good moments). More in the… (SPOILERS)
The biggest issue with Covenant I had was the "is it David or is it Walter" puzzle near the end. Nearly everyone who watches the movie has to be thinking it. On the disc commentary, Ridley Scott even explicitly acknowledges this. So why the hell doesn't it occur to Daniels and Tennessee, or if it does – as Scott briefly suggests on the commentary – why do they refuse to act on this and take at least minimal precautions? We could buy a clever fakeout from David, but the writers aren't inventive enough for that, so instead the big finale depends on stupidity from the main characters. This makes it awfully hard to like them, and if we're supposed to like David instead, which may be the not-really-that-subversive intent, at least give him some worthy adversaries. Also, why is David doing all this? Because he hates humanity, and in a sci-fi cliché, the creation destroys its master? Your mileage may vary, but evil robots/androids/AI don't interest me that much; Fassbender gives a good performance as always, but I find the trope technophobic and, more importantly, narratively uninteresting. (Has no one who's ever made a sci-fi film about robots ever heard of Asimov circuits or the three laws of robotics? Are they simply ignorant of a key concept in the genre? Looking at you, too, Alex Garland.) Ridley Scott's said on the commentary for both Prometheus and Covenant that he's surprised that no one wondered after Alien 'who made the alien(s)?' but that seems silly. The simple answer is that most viewers probably thought the aliens/xenomorphs were born, a parasitic and predator species, such as exist in less lethal form elsewhere in nature, and were not engineered beings.
Some other problems recur throughout the franchise. It can be easy to miss while engrossed in viewing, but how do the aliens grow so rapidly? The one in the shuttle grows before our eyes. Aliens in other films grow at least 10 or 20 times their original size. Do they eat the air? Also, why doesn't the Covenant crew take any environmental protections when exploring a new plaenet? How can a tiny alien agent infect an ear and then become a chestburster within an hour or less? Why would Oram (Billy Crudup) ever trust David? Why would Ridley Scott think that someone peering into an alien egg and getting a facehugger for it would hold any shock at this point? The same goes for the sexual shower murder and many of the other deaths. It feels by-the-numbers and uninspired.
The David-Walter fight is genuinely good, as are all of their scenes, and so is the final, extended battle between Daniels (with help) and the xenomorph. The initial neomorph attack on the planet in tall grass is kind of interesting. So is the idea of couples on the mission and Daniels' grief. It's hard not to feel bad for Dr. Elizabeth Shaw, who apparently treated David kindly and trusted him, and was repaid by being… mutated, tortured and even vivisected? Ugh. Credit for memorable creepiness. I would like to like these movies, but I find 'evil David' shows a failure of imagination, as does the existence of stupid main characters. Spend more time writing the next one, please.
What Happened to Monday: This sci-fi film is mainly interesting for Noomi Rapace playing identical septuplets. In the future, overpopulation has become a serious problem, and having more than one child is outlawed, so Terrence Settman (Willem Dafoe) has to get creative when his daughter dies giving birth to seven girls. He names each of the girls after a day of the week, which dictates their schedule for taking turns sharing the public identity of Karen Settman, all the while trying to stay clear of the Child Allocation Bureau (CAB), the brainchild of Nicolette Cayman (Glenn Close). The sisters have different personalities, though, and some chafe at their predicament more than others and the severe restrictions it imposes –for instance, one-night stands are possible, but long-term relationships are almost impossible. On her allotted day, Monday goes to work as usual but does not return to their apartment at the end of the day, throwing their precarious existence into greater turmoil. Rapace is good as usual, even if the sisters could have been presented to viewers with more clarity; also, some of them seem defined mostly by cosmetic shtick. Dafoe is always a welcome presence. Close is decent but isn't given that much to work with. Viewers will guess one of the dread "secrets" of this society easily, but the film does present some unexpected twists. What makes the film the most interesting is that the sisters can be rivals at times, but do feel affection for one another, creating emotional stakes as the their peril grows more intense. This is an okay rental. (Unintentionally funny and distracting: several characters receive blows to the head, but in one scene a brutal blow will only temporarily phase the recipient whereas in another a lighter tap will knock the recipient out. Unrealistic reactions to physical trauma is nothing new in the movies, of course.)
The Wall:The Wall starts with a promising premise for a thriller – it's the Iraq War (exact year unknown), and a two-man American sniper and spotter team are investigating the aftermath of a pipeline attack, possibly the work of an enemy sniper. After waiting and watching for almost a day, shooter Shane Matthews (John Cena) advances, covered by spotter Allen Isaac (Aaron Taylor-Johnson). But they take fire, and have to take cover behind a low, not-very sturdy wall. The range on Isaac's radio's isn't working, their water is low, and somehow they need to survive with no relief coming anytime soon. (Slight Spoilers) Eventually, Taylor winds up talking to the enemy sniper over the radio, who speaks English, and enjoys probing and subtly taunting Isaac. Cena's solid, Taylor-Johnson gives a good performance as the rattled but resourceful Isaac, and the movie delivers some tense sequences, but also becomes increasingly implausible. The enemy sniper gradually becomes a cinema Master Villain, seemingly omniscient and omnipotent, which does fuel both the physical peril and psychological games, but also strains suspension of disbelief the more one thinks about the narrative and the characters. Viewers who just go along for the ride might not care, though. Doug Liman has a good command of the genre, although The Wall falls far short of his best thrillers, Edge of Tomorrow and The Bourne Identity.
I, Tonya: This surprisingly good biopic of infamous tabloid fodder Tonya Harding is engaging thanks to a strong central performance by Margot Robbie as Harding as well as Allison Janney as LaVona, Tonya's demanding and abusive mother. For those who don't know, Tonya Harding was one of the United States' best figure skaters, vying for the Olympic team in 1994, but she was seen as classless and crude, unlike golden girl Nancy Kerrigan. A crazy, semi-successful plot to injure Nancy Kerrigan was put in motion by people in Harding's circle, although her exact involvement remains a matter of dispute. Harding grows up being abused first by her mother and then by Jeff (Sebastian Stan), her off-and-on again husband; as she remarks, to her, it seems normal (sadly). It's hard not to feel at least a little sympathetic for Tonya Harding; Robbie is particularly affecting in a late courtroom scene. What's odd is that the relationship between Harding and Kerrigan is barely shown, although it would seem to be key to the story. It's established that the judges like Kerrigan better, but also that the two skaters were pals of sorts and occasional roommates on the road. It almost seems as if the filmmakers steered clear for fear of a defamation lawsuit. Margot Robbie learned to skate for the role, although a double did the more difficult maneuvers, and Robbie studied footage of Harding, including old interviews wherein the young teen spoke emotionlessly about her abusive mother. I had little interest in the actual scandal at the time and likewise scant interest in the movie, but it's pretty well done.
The Disaster Artist: Director and star James Franco wisely takes the sincere route while depicting the roots and creation of one of the worst films ever made, cult classic The Room. It'd be easy just to laugh at The Room's delusional and almost talentless writer-director-star, the odd and enigmatic Tommy Wiseau, but Franco focuses on the friendship between Tommy and his best friend, Greg Sestero (Dave Franco, James' younger brother). Tommy can be creepy and controlling, but also generous, and the self-conscious Greg is genuinely inspired by Tommy's fearlessness. The two dream of making it in big in Hollywood, and after facing a series of rejections, Tommy gets the idea to make a film themselves. It's a familiar show biz tale, and it's easy to root for them – too bad that Tommy is so awful at every aspect of moviemaking. The filmmaking scenes are both painful and funny, aided in large part by Seth Rogen playing Sandy, the script supervisor, who voices the obvious WTF questions the crew (and much of the audience) is asking. I've seen The Room a few times, including screenings introduced by Tommy Wiseau and/or Greg Sestero, and read The Disaster Artist book by Sestero and Tom Bissell this film is based on. Franco's film is a pretty faithful depiction of what's known (or has been publicly admitted to, at least). It winds up being a pretty good movie about an absolutely awful one. Stay through the end, which shows scenes from The Room side-by-side with recreations from The Disaster Artist cast, and demonstrates how hard it is for trained actors to be bad – The Room's special, unique ineptitude was dark lightning in a bottle, and can't be fully recreated intentionally.
Today is International Holocaust Remembrance Day, a date picked because of the liberation of the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp in 1945. This year, I wanted to look again at the work of Primo Levi and his great Holocaust memoir, If This Is a Man (Se questo è un uomo), typically known in the U.S. as Survival in Auschwitz. (A 2010 post featured Levi's accounts of storytelling, human connection and the dread of an impending "selection" that might lead to execution.)
Chapter 10, "Chemical Examination," ends with what is probably Levi's most famous image, but it's more powerful with greater context. (The book is short and well worth a read.) Some background for those who haven't read it or are unfamiliar with life in the camps/Lagers: Levi, an Italian Jew, was a chemist, and explains that he was lucky (relatively) to be shipped to Auschwitz in 1944 when the Nazis decided to stop killing as many prisoners because they needed them for labor instead. "Kapos" were prisoners charged with overseeing the other prisoners, and were generally convicted criminals rather than political prisoners; they also tended to be cruel. At this point in the book, Levi has explained that the prisoners' work is physically grueling, they're fed far too little and live in horrible conditions. But a new assignment may be possible: certain prisoners will be interviewed to work as chemists' assistants, which could significantly increase their chances of survival. The key figures in this chapter are Primo Levi, Doktor Pannwitz and Alex the Kapo.
Kommando 98, called the Chemical Kommando, should have been a squad of skilled workers.
The day on which its formation was officially announced a meagre group of fifteen Häftlinge [prisoners] gathered in the grey of dawn around the new Kapo in the roll-call square.
This was the first disillusion: he was a ‘green triangle’, a professional delinquent, the Arbeitsdienst [Reich labor service] had not thought it necessary for the Kapo of the Chemical Kommando to be a chemist. It was pointless wasting one’s breath asking him questions; he would not have replied, or else he would have replied with kicks and shouts. On the other hand, his not very robust appearance and his smaller than average stature were reassuring.
He made a short speech in the foul German of the barracks, and the disillusion was confirmed. So these were the chemists: well, he was Alex, and if they thought they were entering paradise, they were mistaken. In the first place, until the day production began, Kommando 98 would be no more than an ordinary transport-Kommando attached to the magnesium chloride warehouse. Secondly, if they imagined, being Intelligenten, intellectuals, that they could make a fool of him, Alex, a Reichsdeutscher, well, Herrgottsacrament, he would show them, he would… (and with his fist clenched and index finger extended he cut across the air with the menacing gesture of the Germans); and finally, they should not imagine that they would fool anyone, if they had applied for the position without any qualifications – an examination, yes gentlemen, in the very near future; a chemistry examination, before the triumvirate of the Polymerization Department: Doktor Hagen, Doktor Probst and Doktor Ingenieur Pannwitz.
And with this, meine Herren, enough time had been lost, Kommandos 96 and 97 had already started, forward march, and to begin with, whosoever failed to walk in line and step would have to deal with him.
He was a Kapo like all the other Kapos.
Alex is established as a bully. Meanwhile, Levi and his fellows are anxious about the coming interview/examination. They're all underfed and not at their best. And what if this exercise is nothing but false hope?
With these empty faces of ours, with these sheared craniums, with these shameful clothes, to take a chemical examination. And obviously it will be in German; and we will have to go in front of some blond Aryan doctor hoping that we do not have to blow our noses, because perhaps he will not know that we do not have handkerchiefs, and it will certainly not be possible to explain it to him. And we will have our old comrade hunger with us, and we will hardly be able to stand still on our feet, and he will certainly smell our odour, to which we are by now accustomed, but which persecuted us during the first days, the odour of turnips and cabbages, raw, cooked and digested.
Exactly so, Clausner [a fellow prisoner] confirms. But have the Germans such great need of chemists? Or is it a new trick, a new machine ‘pour faire chier les Juifs? Are they aware of the grotesque and absurd test asked of us, of us who are no longer alive, of us who have already gone half-crazy in the dreary expectation of nothing?'
The examinations take place over three days. Levi's is delayed, until finally (emphasis mine):
Here is Alex. I am a chemist. What have I to do with this man Alex? He plants his feet in front of me, he roughly adjusts the collar of my jacket, he takes out my beret and slaps it on my head, then he steps backwards, eyes the result with a disgusted air, and turns his back, muttering: ‘Was für ein Muselmann Zugang.’ What a messy recruit! . . .
This time it really is my turn. Alex looks at me blackly on the doorstep; he feels himself in some way responsible for my miserable appearance. He dislikes me because I am Italian, because I am Jewish and because of all of us, I am the one furthest from his sergeants’ mess ideal of virility. By analogy, without understanding anything, and proud of this very ignorance, he shows a profound disbelief in my chances for the examination.
We have entered. There is only Doktor Pannwitz; Alex, beret in hand, speaks to him in an undertone: ‘…an Italian, has been here only three months, already half kaputt… Er sagt er ist Chemiker…” But he, Alex, apparently has his reservations on the subject.
Alex is briefly dismissed and put aside, and I feel like Oedipus in front of the Sphinx. My ideas are clear, and I am aware even at this moment that the position at stake is important; yet I feel a mad desire to disappear, not to take the test.
Pannwitz is tall, thin, blond; he has eyes, hair and nose as all Germans ought to have them, and sits formidably behind a complicated writing-table. I, Hafding 174517, stand in his office, which is a real office, shining, clean and ordered, and I feel that I would leave a dirty stain whatever I touched.
When he finished writing, he raised his eyes and looked at me.
From that day I have thought about Doktor Pannwitz many times and in many ways. I have asked myself how he really functioned as a man; how he filled his time, outside of the Polymerization and the Indo-Germanic conscience; above all when I was once more a free man, I wanted to meet him again, not from a spirit of revenge, but merely from a personal curiosity about the human soul.
Because that look was not one between two men; and if I had known how completely to explain the nature of that look, which came as if across the glass window of an aquarium between two beings who live in different worlds, I would also have explained the essence of the great insanity of the third Germany.
One felt in that moment, in an immediate manner, what we all thought and said of the Germans. The brain which governed those blue eyes and those manicured hands said: ‘This something in front of me belongs to a species which it is obviously opportune to suppress. In this particular case, one has to first make sure that it does not contain some utilizable element.’ And in my head, like seeds in an empty pumpkin: ‘Blue eyes and fair hair are essentially wicked. No communication possible. I am a specialist in mine chemistry. I am a specialist in organic syntheses. I am a specialist…’
Levi does well; his knowledge and intellect have saved him – for the moment, at least – because a man who does not view him as fully human has judged that he can be useful. And then it is time to return to the barracks (emphasis mine):
Here we are again on the steps. Alex flies down the stairs: he has leather shoes because he is not a Jew, he is as light on his feet as the devils of Malabolge. At the bottom he turns and looks at me sourly as I walk down hesitantly and noisily in my two enormous unpaired wooden shoes, clinging on to the rail like an old man.
It seems to have gone well, but I would be crazy to rely on it. I already know the Lager well enough to realize that one should never anticipate, especially optimistically. What is certain is that I have spent a day without working, so that tonight I will have a little less hunger, and this is a concrete advantage, not to be taken away.
To re-enter Bude, one has to cross a space cluttered up with piles of cross-beams and metal frames. The steel cable of a crane cuts across the road, and Alex catches hold of it to climb over: Donnerwetter, he looks at his hand black with thick grease. In the meanwhile I have joined him. Without hatred and without sneering, Alex wipes his hand on my shoulder, both the palm and the back of the hand, to clean it; he would be amazed, the poor brute Alex, if someone told him that today, on the basis of this action, I judge him and Pannwitz and the innumerable others like him, big and small, in Auschwitz and everywhere.
It's a striking image, all the more so because it's not intentionally, consciously cruel; Levi suffers this indignity because Alex is thoughtless and views Levi as a lesser being, obviously unworthy of basic respect, and thus can be treated like a disposable rag. It's a gesture of casual inhumanity. And Alex, brute though he is, is not that different from the educated Pannwitz and his dehumanizing gaze. (Levi's insights and reflections throughout the book make for memorable reading.)
Few injustices can compete with the Holocaust, but it's always worth remembering that cruelty and dehumanization exist on a spectrum and manifest in different forms, with varying degrees of toxicity. Most fall far short of genocide or even legalized discrimination, but nonetheless should be questioned and challenged.
Sometimes these impulses erupt as angry demonization and obvious bigotry. Other times it's as casual inhumanity. I'm reminded of the false belief that most poor people live in poverty because of a lack of moral character instead of misfortune. There's the self-serving notion that I and others of my chosen political tribe deserve government services but those other people not like us that I don't like are unworthy moochers. We've heard arguments that amount to: feeding children or providing them health care doesn't directly benefit me, so not only should a miniscule amount of my taxes not pay for such programs, but no one should be able to call me selfish or monstrous. And an entire set of beliefs endures holding that, due to race, gender, sexual orientation or ancestry, certain other people are inherently lesser and not worthy of basic respect or even legal rights. A whole range of cruel, punishment-minded or harmfully indifferent mindsets exist. The good news is their corrosive power can be countered with a little reflection and compassion, by fine teaching, human connection and sharing good stories. "Never forget" is a wise adage applying to the past; in the present, maybe that best translates to "never stop listening and learning."
Welcome to the 2017 edition! It's been a bizarre year. This tradition was started by the late Jon Swift/Al Weisel, who left behind some excellent satire and would have had a wealth of material this year. He was also a nice guy and a strong supporter of small blogs. As Lance Mannion explains:
Our late and much missed comrade in blogging, journalist and writer Al Weisel, revered and admired across the bandwidth as the "reasonable conservative" blogger Modest Jon Swift, was a champion of the lesser known and little known bloggers working tirelessly in the shadows . . .
One of his projects was a year-end Blogger Round Up. Al/Jon asked bloggers far and wide, famous and in- and not at all, to submit a link to their favorite post of the past twelve months and then he sorted, compiled, blurbed, hyperlinked and posted them on his popular blog. His round-ups presented readers with a huge banquet table of links to work many of has had missed the first time around and brought those bloggers traffic and, more important, new readers they wouldn’t have otherwise enjoyed.
It may not have been the most heroic endeavor, but it was kind and generous and a lot of us owe our continued presence in the blogging biz to Al.
If you're not familiar with Al Weisel's work as Jon Swift, his site features a "best of" list in the left column.
Thanks to all the participants, and apologies to anyone I missed. (As always, my goal is to find the right balance between inclusive and manageable.) You still can join in, by linking your post in the comments. Whether your post appears in the modest list below or not, feel free to tweet your best post with the hatchtag #jonswift2017.
As in Jon/Al's 2008 roundup, submissions are listed roughly in the order they were received. As he wrote in that post:
I'm sure you'll be interested in seeing what your favorite bloggers think were their best posts of the year, but be sure to also visit some blogs you've never read before and leave a nice comment if you like what you see or, if you must, a polite demurral if you do not.
Without further ado:
Empire of the Senseless "Jammin' "
Zombie rotten mcdonald: "Race relations and music."
Poor Impulse Control "You Can’t Take the Things"
Tata: "You can have Adorable Little Chicken Happiness, and by you, I mean me."
Ramona's Voices "Our First Un-American President"
Ramona Grigg: "Wherein America falls for a populist line thrown out by a snarling, ruthless billionaire who scoffs at the title "public servant" and opts instead for "Grand Soviet Poobah and Tweeter Extraordinaire". "
Infidel753 "Franken, Moore, and doing the right thing"
Infidel753: "Republicans and Democrats have responded in radically different ways to the revolt against sexual harassment. It's a defining moment in US politics, when doing the right thing will also mean political advantage."
The Way of Cats "Tristan’s favorite music"
Pamela Merritt: "My cat and I program his own Pandora channel. From singing a song with their name it in to playing their favorite genre, music is something cats enjoy."
World O’ Crap "Don't Come Around Here No More"
Scott Clevenger: "We remember the late Tom Petty. Not for his music — that’s a given — but for his delightfully eccentric performance in Kevin Costner’s 1997 bomb The Postman."
Just an Earth-Bound Misfit, I "The Crowd Size Kerfuffle"
Comrade Misfit: "An analysis of Trump's lying about the size of the crowd on Inauguration Day. It signaled that Trump would be a no-substance president, concerned only about optics and how things looked on television."
Herlander Walking "The Bitch of This Place"
Labrys: "How a browbeaten feminist got her bitch groove back and decided 'Fuck ‘em if they are assholes.' "
Shakesville "I Write Letters"
Melissa McEwan: "In January of this year, a week after Donald Trump's inauguration, I penned a fiery piece in response to people who were demanding Hillary Clinton "do something" to save us. "Hillary Clinton doesn't owe you a goddamned thing," I wrote, with the reminder that campaigning for 18 grueling months was doing something -- the most important thing she ever could have done."
Mad Kane's Political Madness "Satirist's Quandary"
Madeleine Begun Kane: "My limerick laments the special challenge of writing political satire in the Age of Trump."
The Rectification of Names "Song"
Yastreblyansky: "A little song text I wrote in the spring, as our new president's habits and aspirations were getting clearer. Suitable for Palm Beach campfires or woozy midnights around the piano in the Old Post Office."
The Debate Link "Today I Got Assaulted"
David Schraub: "I recount my experience being assaulted on the street in Berkeley, California; the comments of the police officer who took my statement (and was eager to share some of his thoughts on current media tropes about law enforcement to a Berkeley graduate student); and how we decide what experiences to code as 'crime'. "
You Might Notice a Trend "The Only Number That Matters"
Paul Wartenberg: "As long as trump has a devoted fanbase within the Far Right, the rest of the Republican Party will do nothing to stop his disastrous reign. So it's up to us: We are the only number that matters now..."
Bark Bark Woof Woof "It’s Not Just A Cake"
Mustang Bobby: "takes exception to David Brooks saying that it’s okay to violate a gay couple’s civil rights because 'it’s just a cake.' "
his vorpal sword "Tiresias Notes, or, My Life as a Woman"
Hart Williams: "The first thing that Theodore Sturgeon ever told me was this: to really understand a character, you need to walk a mile in their moccasins. One Halloween, I decided to go as a woman; what happened next was something I could never have been prepared for, nor anticipated."
Strangely Blogged "Which Side are You on? (Trump?)"
Vixen Strangely: "If the ten years of my blog didn't make this entirely clear, yes, I'm antifascist."
Heretic No More "For William Todd"
Kathleen Maher: "I wrote serial fiction online this year but focused more on novels-in-progress. In memory of Jon Swift's generous tradition, I've chosen a memorial to another friend who died too soon."
This Is So Gay Cut!
Duncan Mitchel: "A discussion of some of the arguments around circumcision."
M.A. Peel "My Editions of the Romantics: That Which Connects"
Ellen O'Neill: "The theme for the Keats-Shelley Memorial Association essay this year—“To Friend”—stirred in me enormous emotions about my own relationship to John Keats, which I realized came through the various editions of his poems I’ve owned through the years. And if you can hum the Christmas Carol, “In the Bleak Winter,” well, I give my heart to you-know-who."
Hometown USA Prudes in Hometown
Kevin Robbins: "Haven't been posting that much at the blog. Mostly just letters that have been submitted to the local paper. They're circulation is higher than my blog and I often focus on local issues or my district rep, hence Hometown. I aim for a Dale Carnegie approach that won't piss of my fellow parishioners."
driftglass "In The Beginning..."
driftglass: "With memory of our recent political history being shoveled down the media Memory Hole at breakneck speed, I thought we needed need a fast and dirty account of how things got this way."
The Professional Left Podcast (posted at Blue Gal's blog) "Ep 410 Not Today Satan (Or Trump)"
Blue Gal: "Friday the 13th doesn’t scare us, and neither does that stupid person who says he's "the president." Trump literally does not know how anything works. Meanwhile, we discuss how to protect ourselves from toxic stress until he is removed from office. More at ProLeftPod.com."
Self-Styled Siren "Bad-Movie Double Feature"
Farran Nehme delivers a fun review of two movies, both bad, but in different ways.
First Draft "Glengarry Glen Ross On The Potomac"
Peter Adrastos Athas: "As the Kremlingate scandal worsened there were many comparisons of Team Trump to The Godfather. In this post, I argue that David Mamet's Glengarry Glen Ross is a more apt comparison."
Tom Sullivan "It's not how many they are but where they are many"
Tom Sullivan: "If Democrats hope to regain control of Congress and redistricting, they need to compete in 50 states, many red and rural. Ask the South Vietnamese how holding the cities and leaving the countryside to their opponents worked out. (Note: Matt Coffay has since abandoned the race for NC-11.)"
Perrspectives "Vergangenheitsbewältigung in America"
Jon Perr: "It’s been 25 years since the late Molly Ivins joked that Pat Buchanan “sounded better in the original German.” But when it comes to its own troubled past, the United States could badly use an Americanized version of a term Germans use to confront theirs."
The Rude Pundit "Fuck You, Rural Elitists"
Lee Papa: "I wrote this when the endless stream of Trump voter articles was just getting started, but they were and are awful, condescending, and wrong."
Gaius Publius "Deficit Talk Is a Trap. Will Democrats Fall Into It?"
Gaius Publius: "What most people get wrong about how money is made, and how that heavily-promoted misinformation benefits the Corporate and the Wealthy."
Kiko's House "Tribalism Run Amok: Trump Did Not Make America What It Is, America Made Trump"
Shaun D Mullen: "Tribalism is in our DNA, and that makes finding a way out of our national nightmare exceedingly difficult because it would require closing the gap between those tribes, as well as changing or at least diluting the mutations of the political parties."
alicublog "Ripped From Today’s Headlines."
Roy Edroso: "As the relationship of Trump’s stooges and the Russians became better known, I imagined the circumstances under which Kislyak and Jeff Session might have become acquainted. And come to think of it, Sessions does have a 'tiny face like babushka.' "
Doctor Cleveland "Some People Are Not Duelable"
Doctor Cleveland: "Examines the old idea that you couldn't and shouldn't duel someone who was too far below you, first as general life advice, and then as a comment on Trump."
Balloon Juice Health Insurance (series)
David Anderson's series on the Affordable Care Act and other health insurance issues was the best "post" pick of the Balloon Juice community.
Zencomix "I'm a Voodoo Child"
Dave Dugan: " 'Blood Sugar Hex Tragic', an intaglio printed comic on handmade paper about musicians in New Orleans."
Bluestem Prairie "Nitrates: Brown Co turns down MDA well testing aid because somebody might blame farmers"
Sally Jo Sorensen: "In a political climate in which Big Ag defines any attempt to address environmental consequences of agriculture as an attack on farmers, one Minnesota County decided to turn down state money for well testing. Never mind the blue babies."
Vagabond Scholar "Assessing Hearts and Minds"
Batocchio: "Due to a dearth of posting this year, I'm picking a relevant, slightly older post about evaluating the reasonability of other people in political discussions, especially old acquaintances."
Thanks again, folks. Happy blogging (and everything else) in 2018. (Vive la résistance!)
The eleventh day of the eleventh month has always seemed to me to be special. Even if the reason for it fell apart as the years went on, it was a symbol of something close to the high part of the heart. Perhaps a life that stretches through two or three wars takes its first war rather seriously, but I still think we should have kept the name "Armistice Day." Its implications were a little more profound, a little more hopeful.
You said it, brother.
Thanks to all who have served or are serving, on this Veterans Day, or Remembrance Day, or Armistice Day.
This post is mostly a repeat I run every year, since I find it hard to top Kelly.
The eleventh of November is primarily known as Veterans Day in the United States, but it's also known as Remembrance Day and Armistice Day. These holidays typically dovetail well, but Armistice Day, commemorating the end of the "Great War," is the part I've been pondering most. Veterans Day honors military veterans, which is only right, but Armistice Day seems to ask us to reflect on war and peace.
Americans tend to remember the Second World War much better that the First, and the Second is far more heavily featured in American feature films, TV shows, books and documentaries. The U.S. entered the First World War fairly late, we weren't directly involved in some of its most horrific events, plus the Second had more moral clarity; we can feel like the good guys. (Stud Terkel's great oral history of that war is called "The Good War" in quotation marks because although many of the interviewees justifiably feel proud of their service, no war is truly "good.") I do wish as a country we considered more aspects of the First World War, including the lessons of the Battle of the Somme, which started a little over one hundred and one years ago. As the BBC explains:
The Battle of the Somme, fought in northern France, was one of the bloodiest of World War One. For five months the British and French armies fought the Germans in a brutal battle of attrition on a 15-mile front. The aims of the battle were to relieve the French Army fighting at Verdun and to weaken the German Army. However, the Allies were unable to break through German lines. In total, there were over one million dead and wounded on all sides.
The battle is much more strongly etched into British memories because its start on July 1st, 1916, entailed the highest single-day death count of British soldiers in history. British decisions were criticized at the time (by Winston Churchill, among others) and are still discussed. The British had initiated a massive military recruitment effort, led by Secretary of State of War Lord Kitchener, but because of British losses, the "Kitchener divisions" were rushed to battle with relatively little training and often short on equipment. For the Battle of the Somme, the British plan was basically for artillery to destroy German barbed wire so that British soldiers could advance from their trenches to take over the German ones. British military historian John Keegan sets the scene in his 1976 book, The Face of Battle:
French small-unit tactics, perfected painfully over two years of warfare, laid emphasis on the advance of small groups by rushes, one meanwhile supporting another by fire – the sort of tactics which were to become commonplace in the Second World War. This sophistication of traditional 'fire and movement' was known to the British but was thought by the staff to be too difficult to be taught to the Kitchener divisions. They may well have been right. But the alternative tactical order they laid down for them was over-simplified: divisions were to attack on front of about a mile, generally with two brigades 'up' and one in reserve. What this meant, in terms of soldiers on the ground, was that two battalions each of a thousand men, forming the leading wave of the brigade, would leave their front trenches, using scaling-ladders to climb the parapet, extend their soldiers in four lines, a company to each, the men two to three yards apart, the lines about fifty to a hundred yards behind each other, and advance to the German wire. This they would expect to find flat, or at least widely gapped, and, passing through, they would then jump down into the German trenches, shoot, bomb or bayonet any who opposed them, and take possession. Later the reserve waves would pass through and advance to capture the German second position by similar methods.
The manoeuvre was to be done slowly and deliberately, for the men were to be laden with about sixty pounds of equipment, their re-supply with food and ammunition during the battle being one of the thing the staff could not guarantee. In the circumstances, it did indeed seem that success would depend upon what the artillery could do for the infantry, both before the advance and once it was under way.
p. 230 (1988 edition)
If there's an image associated with the First World War, it's trench warfare. If there's a specific weapon, it might be mustard gas, but more likely the machine gun, used on a greater scale than ever before. As Keegan explains:
The machine-gun was to be described by Major-General J.F.C. Fuller, one of the great enragés of military theory produced by the war, as 'concentrated essence of infantry,' by which he meant his readers to grasp that its invention put into the hands of one man the fire-power formerly wielded by forty. Given that a good rifleman could fire only fifteen shots a minute, to a machine-gunner's 600, the point is well made. But, as Fuller would have no doubt conceded if taxed, a machine-gun team did not simply represent the equivalent of so many infantrymen compressed into a small compass. Infantrymen, however well-trained and well-armed, however resolute, however ready to kill, remain erratic agents of death. Unless centrally directed, they will choose, perhaps badly, their own targets, will open and cease fire individually, will be put off their aim by the enemy's return of fire, will be distracted by wounding of those near them, will yield to excitement, will fire high, low or wide. It was to overcome influences and tendencies of this sort – as well as to avert the danger of accident in closely packed ranks – that seventeeth- and eighteenth-century armies had put such effort into perfecting volley by square, line and column. . . .
The machine-gunner is best thought of, in short, as a sort of machine-minder, whose principal task was to feed ammunition belt into the breech, something which could be done while the gun was in full operation, top up the fluid in the cooling jacket, and traverse the gun from left to right and back again within the limits set by its firing platform. Traversing was achieved by a technique known, in the British Army, as the 'two inch tap': by constant practice, the machine-gunner learned to hit the side of the breech with the palm of his hand just hard enough to move the muzzle exactly two inches against the resistance of the traversing screw. A succession of 'two-inch taps' first on one side of the breech until the stop was reached, then on the other, would keep in the air a stream of bullets so dense that no one could walk upright across the front of the machine-gunner's position without being hit – given, of course, that the gunner had set his machine to fire low and that the ground as devoid of cover. The appearance of the machine-gun, therefore, had not so much disciplined the act of killing – which was what seventeenth-century drill had done – as mechanized or industrialized it.
pp. 232–234
On the first day of battle, July 1st, 1916, the British artillery started its job, and the British soldiers, many of them relatively untrained, advanced:
Most soldiers were encountering heavy fire within seconds of leaving the trenches. The 10th West Yorks, attacking towards the ruined village of Fricourt in the little valley of the River Ancre, had its two follow-up companies caught in the open by German machine-gunners who emerged from their dug-outs after the leading waves has passed over the top and onward. They were 'practically annihilated and lay shot down in waves'. In the neighbouring 34th Division, the 5th and 16th Royal Scots, two Edinburgh Pals' Battalions contained a high proportion of Mancunians, were caught in flank by machine-gun firing from the ruins of La Boiselle and lost several hundred men in a few minutes, thought the survivors marched on to enter German lines. Their neighbouring battalions, the 10th Lincolns and 11th Suffolks (the Grimsby Chums and the Cambridge Battalion) were caught by the same flanking fire; of those who pressed on to the German trenches, some, to quote the official history 'were burnt to death by flame throwers as [they] reached the [German] parapet'; others were caught again by machine-gun fire as they entered the German position. An artillery officer who walked across later came on 'line after line of dead men lying where they had fallen'. Behind the Edinburghs, the four Tyneside Irish battalions of the 103rd Brigade underwent a bizarre and pointless massacre. The 34th Division's commander had decided to move all twelve of his battalions simultaneously towards the German front, the 101st and 102nd Brigades from the front trench, the 103rd from the support line (called the Tara-Usna Line, in a little re-entrant know to the brigade as the Avoca Valley – all three names allusions to Irish beauty spots celebrated by Yeats and the Irish literary nationalists). This decision gave the last brigade a mile of open ground to cover before it reached its own front line, a safe enough passage if the enemy's machine-guns had been extinguished, otherwise a funeral march. A sergeant of the 3rd Tyneside Irish (26th Northumberland Fusiliers) describes how it was: 'I could see, away to my left and right, long lines of men. Then I heard the "patter, patter" of machine-guns in the distance. By the time I'd gone another ten yards there seemed to be only a few men left around me; by the time I had gone twenty yards, I seemed to be on my own. Then I was hit myself.' Not all went down so soon. A few heroic souls pressed on to the British front line, crossed no-man's-land and entered the German trenches. But the brigade was destroyed; one of its battalions had lost over 600 men killed or wounded, another, 500; the brigadier and two battalions commanders had been hit, a third lay dead. Militarily, the advance had achieved nothing. Most of the bodies lay on the territory British before the battle had begun.
pp. 248–249
As for the overall results:
The first day of the Somme had not been a complete military failure. But it had been a human tragedy. The Germans, with about sixty battalions on the British Somme front, though about forty in the line, say about 35,000 soldiers, had had killed or wounded 6,000. Bad enough; but it was in the enormous disparity between their losses and the British that the weight of the tragedy lies: the German 180th Regiment lost 280 men on 1 July out of about 3,000; attacking it, the British had lost 5,121 out of 12,000. In all the British had lost about 60,000, of whom 21,000 had been killed, most in the first hour of the attack, perhaps the first minutes. 'The trenches,' wrote Robert Kee fifty years later, 'were the concentration camps of the First World War'; and though the analogy is what an academic reviewer would call unhistorical, there is something Treblinka-like about almost all accounts of 1 July, about those long docile lines of young men, shoddily uniformed, heavily burdened, numbered across their necks, plodding forward across a featureless landscape to their own extermination inside the barbed wire. Accounts of the Somme produce in readers and audiences much the same range of emotions as do descriptions of the running of Auschwitz – guilty fascination, incredulity, horror, disgust, pity and anger – and not just from the pacific and tender-hearted; not only from the military historian, on whom, as he recounts the extinction of this brave effort or that, falls an awful lethargy, his typewriter keys tapping leadenly on the paper to drive the lines of print, like the waves of a Kitchener battalion failing to take its objective, more and more slowly towards the foot of the page; but also from professional soldiers. Anger is the response which the story of the Somme most commonly evokes among professionals. Why did the commanders not do something about it? Why did they let the attack go on? Why did they not stop one battalion following in the wake of another to join it in death?
pp. 259–260
It's a striking account of senseless, unnecessary death. (It's stuck with me since I first read it ages ago.) The battle grew to be criticized, but it took a while for the public to get a fuller picture. The newpaper Times of London, published by Lord Northcliffe, consistently painted a rosy view of the British soldier's life. As Paul Fussell recounts in The Great War and Modern Memory:
It is no surprise to find Northcliffe's Times on July 3, 1916, reporting the first day's attack on the Somme with an airy confidence which could not help but deepen the division between those on the spot and those at home, "[Commander] Sir Douglas Haig telephoned last night," says the Times, "that the general situation was favorable," and the account goes on to speak of "effective progress," nay, "substantial progress." It soon ascends to the rhetoric of heroic romance: "There is a fair field and no favor, and [at the Somme] we have elected to fight out our quarrel with the Germans and to give them as much battle as they want." In short, "everything has gone well"; "we got our first thrust well home, and there is every reason to be sanguine as to the result." No wonder communication failed between the troops and those who could credit prose like that as factual testimony.
p. 106 (in the Illustrated Edition)
Fussell presents another familiar story – a government that doesn't want the public to know what happened in a war (and at least one media outlet happy to play along). Some Americans might be reminded of U.S. government efforts to suppress the news about the Vietnam War and Walter Cronkite's 1968 public commentary that the war was a stalemate and the U.S should negotiate an end. But similar dynamics play out with many wars.
It makes perfect sense that the Battle of the Somme remains a more powerful event for the British than for Americans, or even the French or Germans; it's one of many events that shape my personal thoughts on Armistice Day, but that mix will be different for everyone. But if contemplating Armistice Day entails any lessons, for me they're fairly straightforward: some wars may be necessary. Others definitely aren't. The same goes for battles; military history is full of disastrous decisions. If you must go to war, prepare well. Going to war should require a high threshold; it shouldn't be done capriciously. Distrust anyone who wants to go to war. Challenge anyone who tries bully others to go to war and attacks their patriotism or lies or offers frequently shifting rationales. Discuss matters of war and peace honestly and openly as a democracy. Obtain as much accurate information as possible and question suspect accounts (and certainly challenge outright propaganda). Treat veterans well, especially when it comes to physical and mental health. Listen to their stories. Remember that the best way to support current military personnel is to avoid sending them into an unnecessary war or sending them into a pointless battle or poorly preparing them. Challenge anyone who tries to pretend that either skepticism about going to war or questioning a specific war-related decision shows a lack of "support for the troops." Resist authoritarian bullying.
In our current day, it's worth remembering that although some veterans go on to become fine public servants, others become political hacks. Generals may serve as wise counsel for presidents, or may agitate for nuclear war, as Curtis LeMay did to President Kennedy during the Cuban Missile Crisis. As political figures, generals may act as a sobering influences, but they can also be authoritarian bullies who lie and slander for attempted political gain, and misunderstand or disdain democracy. They have a voice, but undue deference to them can be dangerous.
Thanks to all who has served on this Veterans Day. As for Remembrance Day and Armistice Day, in 1959, Pogo creator Walt Kelly wrote:
The eleventh day of the eleventh month has always seemed to me to be special. Even if the reason for it fell apart as the years went on, it was a symbol of something close to the high part of the heart. Perhaps a life that stretches through two or three wars takes its first war rather seriously, but I still think we should have kept the name "Armistice Day." Its implications were a little more profound, a little more hopeful.
Happy Labor Day! It’s too easy to take for granted the important victories of the labor movement in the past, and also to overlook the attacks on workers’ right in the present. Some good pieces for the day:
Last week, as most of us in the United States were riveted by Hurricane Harvey’s descent on Texas, the Occupational Safety and Health Administration removed from its Internet home page a list of workers who died as a result of workplace injuries, burying it deep within the website. At the same time, it changed how the list is compiled; it will now only include instances where the company was cited for safety violations leading to a worker’s death. Details such as the name of the deceased worker are also no longer considered worthy of inclusion. The Atlanta Journal-Constitution worked out that of the at least 32 Georgia workers it determined died as a result of work-related injuries since October 1 of last year, only two even get a mention on the new list.
Then on Tuesday, the day Trump visited hurricane-stricken Texas, the White House announced it had put a stop to a 2016 Obama-administration ruling requiring companies with 100 or more employees to report pay by gender, race, and ethnic background to the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission. Advocates had hoped it would help combat the United States’ stubborn pay gap. But Ivanka Trump, a self-described advocate for women’s rights, was not disappointed. “The proposed policy would not yield the intended results,” she sniffed in a statement accompanying the White House decision. “We look forward to continuing to work with EEOC, OMB, Congress and all relevant stakeholders on robust policies aimed at eliminating the gender wage gap.”
Those “robust policies” won’t include the Obama era Fair Pay and Safe Workplaces order. That’s gone too. That 2014 executive order required prospective federal contractors to disclose workplace safety and discrimination violations. It also mandated pay transparency and forbade mandatory workplace arbitration in cases of discrimination and harassment at the covered businesses. Supporters proclaimed it a major advance in civil-rights regulation. Management-side law firms and business interests were less than impressed. Legal powerhouse Littler Mendelson, which says on its website that it’s the largest “global” employment and labor-law practice, claimed it “dramatically increases risks for government contractors.” Well, that wouldn’t do. “The rule simply made it too easy for trial lawyers to go after American companies and American workers who contract with the federal government,” then–Press Secretary Sean Spicer explained when asked. Maybe Ivanka Trump wasn’t available to offer cover that day.
Then there is worker pay. Last year, the Obama administration announced a major revamp of the nation’s overtime rules. Proponents expected the change to boost the pay of 4.2 million workers and ultimately add about $12 billion to American paychecks over the next decade. Opponents—including 21 state governments and the US Chamber of Commerce—took to the courts, and, almost week before it was set to take effect, a Texas judge issued a temporary stay.
Republicans and their big business patrons have shafted workers in Missouri just in time for Labor Day. Last week, a new state law went into effect that slashed the minimum wage for workers in St. Louis and Kansas City from $10/hour to $7.70/hour. The measure also prohibits these cities from setting a higher minimum wage in the future.
It all began a few years ago when St. Louis passed an ordinance to gradually boost the city's minimum wage to $11/hour (A living-wage for an adult without children in the area is roughly $10.50). Business groups immediately challenged the increase in the courts. This year the courts sided with the city and wages increased to $10/hour, so businesses turned to their Republican allies in the legislature to pass a statewide cap. Now, more than 30,000 workers could see a pay cut. Business groups are trying to pass similar caps in over 20 states across the country.
This is ridiculous. No one who works full-time should be forced to raise a family in poverty. Adjusted for inflation, the federal minimum wage of 1968 would be be well over $10/hour today. It's also good for the economy. When workers earn more, they spend more on local businesses, which in turn creates more jobs.
The U.S. Department of Labor investigated 77 Los Angeles garment factories from April through July of 2016 and found that workers were paid as little as $4 and an average of $7 an hour for 10-hour days spent sewing clothes for Forever 21, Ross Dress for Less and TJ Maxx. One worker in West Covina made as little as $3.42 per hour during three weeks of sewing TJ Maxx clothing, according to the Department of Labor.
Those sweatshop wages are the hidden cost of the bargains that make stores like Forever 21 impossible to resist for so many Americans.
A knee-length Forever 21 dress made in one of the Los Angeles factories investigated by the government came with a price tag of $24.90. But it would have cost $30.43 to make that dress with workers earning the $7.25 federal minimum wage and even more to pay the $12 Los Angeles minimum, according to previously unpublished investigative results from the Labor Department.
Forever 21 would have had to pay 50% more in order for sewing contractors to pay workers the federal minimum, the investigation found.
The Department of Labor discovered labor violations at 85% of the factories it visited during that four-month period and ordered the suppliers to pay $1.3 million in back wages, lost overtime and damages — but it couldn’t touch the brands.
The new labor history splintered in dozens of fruitful directions, but the ceaseless decline of working-class power pushed those engaged in the central mission of the field from panic to despair. Labor scholars seemed to fall into an ideological trap: When workers managed to win, it was because of their drive and capacity. When they lost, which was more often the story, it was capital’s dark machinations at fault. Rarely did anyone want to probe the strange and heady brew of anti-statism, anti-elitism, fragile pride, and, often, individualism (a word all but banned from labor history) that are part of class consciousness in America.
Many of the most recent generation of kindred spirits to the new labor history have jumped on the train of studying conservatism. But in American historiography, conservatism still seems to smack of the other and the exotic and the conspiratorial — rather than part and parcel, central to the very DNA of American politics. The residue of our own politics, and the revelation of all of the real radicalism in U.S. history, prevents me and my colleagues from confronting something fearful: what we like to call "backlash" is deeply intertwined with everything, including some of the left-wing movements.
What’s interesting about Trump is that he won, not that his strain of politics is new. It’s always been around. Let’s not go wild trying to figure out what happened: The crazy train of American history happened. The lineage that winds from Andrew Jackson to Tom Watson to Joe McCarthy to George Wallace to Pat Buchanan to Trump is not just "conservative," nor is it just "working class" in any way an intellectually driven conservative or Marxist or liberal would recognize or celebrate. The conservative/liberal divide is a deeply tenuous construct. Looking for a populist savior, however, is bedrock Americana.
Historians need to reconcile their intellectual frameworks with a "real-world" America that is a messy stew of populist, communitarian, reactionary, progressive, racist, patriarchal, and nativist ingredients. Any historical era has its own mix of these elements, which play in different ways. We should embrace Thompson’s admonition to understand class as a continuing, sometimes volatile happening, and not be blinded by our love affair with dissent as a left-wing movement. Trump voters are dissenters, after all.
At the same time, though, Republicans are making it clear that talk is all we are going to get so long as there is any chance of pushing through tax cuts before Trump has a Chernobyl-level meltdown. If the breakdown of the rule of law and the institutions of government troubles them, it doesn't trouble them enough to give up the prospect of getting the wealthiest Americans their 100th tax break of the last four decades. The GOP claims its corporate tax cut from 35 percent to 15 percent will not raise the debt, an assertion that relies upon the repeatedly disproven claim that economic growth will skyrocket after tax cuts. Paul Ryan urges you not to notice that due to extensive loopholes, American corporations currently pay nowhere near the nominal 35 percent rate. Oh, and they're also sitting on $2 trillion in cash, which negates the argument that investment is being held back by the tax rate. . . .
Their priority will not change no matter what Trump does and no matter how many vastly more pressing problems confront the nation. The core principle of the GOP is to make the rich richer, and that is more important to people like Ryan than any of our institutions. As reality dawns on the naively hopeful GOP members who believed they could "manage" Trump, their willingness to keep the nuclear codes in the hands of a giant toddler says a lot about their values.
Unfortunately, conservatism has always had a anti-labor, anti-worker, anti-employee strain, typically favoring management, owners and investors. That strain has completely taken over the Republican Party, which has become almost entirely plutocratic, with the goals of funneling more money and power to the already rich and powerful, slashing the social safety net, and impoverishing and immiserating the middle class and poor.
Finally, at Hullabaloo, Dennis Hartley provides "Lord I am so tired: Top 10 Labor Day films." It's a fine list.
If you have a post celebrating labor or Labor Day, feel free to link it in the comments.
