"Control" (2007, starring Sam Riley, directed by Anton Corbijn)


A friend called about halfway through “Control.”

“Hello?”

“What’s wrong with you??”

“I’m halfway through “Control.””

“Oh... Got it. “

It’s that kind of movie, and if you’ve seen it you’ll know what I mean it.

It’s not a happy film. It’s more melancholy, brooding, tragic.

And beautiful, brilliant and thought-provoking.

The film explores the few years of Ian Curtis’ short career. The lead singer of Joy Division got married when he was 19, became a father shortly after that, and died in 1980 when he was just 23.

But during that short window of his life, Curtis left an indelible mark on the parchment of Brit-punk’s written history.

The film, directed by Anton Corbijn and starring Sam Riley, captures that period in sharp relief, from the moment Curtis first meets Debbie, whom he goes on to marry in his hometown of Macclesfield, England, to joining the band, developing epilepsy and becoming a father. While all this is happening the band begins to gain a following, his marriage falls apart and he eventually meets a tragic and heartbreaking end.

It’s all shot in gruff, working class neighbourhoods that invoke the Manchester area where the band established its roots, as well as in dodgy, edgy clubs and bars that make a perfect setting for Joy Division’s beginnings – and make me wish I grew up in punk-rock infused 1970s blue-collar England.

The simple, sad story is told using rich, black and white tones and a careful, measured pace.

The composition is so intentional that a simple frame, consisting of a station wagon pulled over on the highway at night, the band members standing in front surrounding Curtis, feels like a brilliant, rich photograph.

This happens over and over again in the film, so that even at its darkest moments, it’s beautiful and compelling – like when Curtis collapses on stage and has a seizure, or when he flatly, coldly tells his wife he no longer loves her.

There was something memorable about Curtis and Joy Division. Their short career only produced one album while Curtis was alive, and a second that was released after his death. But they have become a ubiquitous part of the punk rock genre, and their iconic albums, 1979's "Unknown Pleasures" and 1980's "Closer" continue to sell and critics and fans continue to wrestle over what drove Curtis’ music.

“Control” shows why. His stage presence – brilliantly captured by Corbijn and rendered by Riley, is intense and honest and riveting. You just can’t look away during his final full performance in the film – intense and alive until he is carried offstage, writhing in a seizure as his fans go crazy, or the final time he climbs on stage for just a few gripping moments before he walks off, unable to carry on as his life dissolves around him.

At one point Curtis says “They don’t know how much I give...” And you believe it – you believe that his writing, his performing, his music demands everything he has and is, and that that’s what eventually claims his life – there’s just nothing left.

At least that’s the story this film tells. But Curtis died young, and there’s always a tendency to romanticize those who die tragically before their time – especially when they’re artists or rock stars or writers.

Probably that’s what happened here. But regardless of whether this version of the story is fiction, or gospel fact, it is told brilliantly.

My AudioBlogs #3


Gabcast! My AudioBlogs #3

The Amazing Spider-Man features Obama storyline


I wrote this story yesterday about Today's edition of The Amazing Spider-Man. It features Barack Obama on the cover, and includes a five-page story about the president-elect and an imposter who tries to steal the presidency.

The new issue of "The Amazing Spider-Man" is hitting shelves Wednesday, and gracing the cover is the soon-to-be U.S. commander-in-chief -- or should we say geek-in-chief -- Barack Obama.

In a recent story in the U.K.'s Telegraph newspaper, it was revealed that the president-elect is a fan of the Webslinger because he can relate to the inner turmoil Peter Parker often feels about his alter-ego.

That inspired the creative team at Marvel Comics to feature Obama in issue #583, "Spidey Meets the President."

"My bosses came to me and said is there anything we can do with this? And we thought well, maybe we'll put him on our cover as a nod to the new comic-fan-in-chief, and that grew into a five-page story," said Stephen Wacker, editor of "The Amazing Spider-Man".

Read the rest here

"It's a Wonderful Life" (Frank Capra, 1946)


Every year, around this time, a bunch of friends and I get together and head out for the Bloor Cinema Christmas movie night. It always includes festive snacks and apple cider and door prizes, and in true Bloor fashion the night is free for members, or just $3 for non-members.

We always smuggle in some Bailey’s, or some rum for the eggnog, and it always proves to be great holiday tradition – made especially festive this year, with the massive snowstorm we had to endure to get there.

This year the feature was Frank Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life”, starring Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed.

This is one of my all time favourite movies, and I was reminded once again this year why I love it.

The film was released in 1946 to critical, though not box-office, acclaim. It was nominated for five Academy Awards but the initial release didn’t bring in the $6.3 million it needed just to break even.

Be that as it may, the film, which is almost poetic in its stark, black and white beauty, has gone on to become an international favourite.

Stewart plays George Bailey, a resident of the small town of Bedford Falls, which serves as a sort of ‘anywhere USA’ kind of place.

George's’s father started the Bailey Building and Loan Company as a means of providing struggling residents with the ability to own their own home, or business. George has run the business since his father passed away.

His story is a litany of failed dreams, mostly due to his propensity for doing the right thing, however unwillingly.

George’s lifelong ambition to travel the world, his goal of going to university to become a civil engineer, even his honeymoon to Paris – all are quashed as the circumstances in his life force him to remain in Bedford Falls.

He seems to handle the heartbreak well at first. After all, the payoff is a beautiful wife who loves him dearly, a family, and fairly high standing in the town as the one man who can stand up to the rich villain, Henry Potter.

But there’s a deep undercurrent of conflict running just under the surface, and you get the feeling that tension is building as George watches his dreams evaporate.

One of the most memorable scenes in the film is shared between George and Mary Hatch (Donna reed). Hatch, who has adored him since childhood, has returned from university.

At his mother’s urging George stops by her house. “She’s the kind of girl who will help you find the answers George…” his mom tells him, with the best of motherly intentions.

While George – frazzled and in a foul mood -- is at her house, Mary takes a call from a suitor and mutual friend of George’s named Sam Wainright. While they’re on the phone, he asks to speak with George as well, to tell him about a business opportunity in plastics.

The two of them put their heads close together to hear his voice over the line, and there’s an intense moment where George's voice trails off, and he just seems to get lost in Mary’s presence though he is visibly resisting it.

“Mary, will you tell that guy I'm giving him the chance of a lifetime? You hear - the chance of a lifetime,” Wainright says.

Mary looks up at George, and with her lips almost touching his, she repeats his words.

“He says it's the chance of a lifetime,” she says, obviously not referring to the business opportunity.

The phone drops to the floor, and George snaps, grabbing Mary by the shoulders in an almost violent grip.

“Now, you listen to me! I don't want any plastics, and I don't want any ground floors, and I don't want to get married -- ever -- to anyone! You understand that? I want to do what I want to do. And you're...and you're...”

And then you watch as George’s walls break down. With Mary in tears, he pulls her close in an almost desperate embrace, and they kiss.

In the next scene they are getting married.

While it’s a happy scene, it also represents another sacrifice for George. Like when his father died and he was forced to take over the business, or when his brother got married and took a job in New York instead of taking over the family business – his life has been a story of conflict between his desire to follow his dreams and “shake the dust” of Bedford Falls off his feet, and the desire to do the right thing.

But this is all background to the main story of IAWL, which is a true Christmas tale. The real crux comes when George’s absentminded and eccentric uncle mistakenly gives the bank deposit -- $8,000 cash – to the evil Potter on the very day the bank inspector is in town to check on the books.

George comes unglued. He gets drunk, shouts violently at his kids, smashes his car on a stormy night, and sinks to the very edge of despair, wishing out loud that he had never been born – and Stewart’s study of this level of emotion is deeply believable.

At his wits end, about to throw himself from a bridge, George meets his guardian angel, Clarence.

The “junior angel” who is attempting to earn his wings by saving George, pre-empts him, throwing himself into the river so that George is forced to jump in and save his life, rather than ending his own.

Though it takes a lot of convincing before George believes Clarence’s story, he tags along as the angel gives him a first-hand view of what his life would have been like if his wish were granted, and he had never been born.

Bedford Falls, in George’s absence, has become “Pottersville” and is run by Potter, with slums, bars and gambling halls transforming the sleepy town into a place of sin.

His wife, Mary, is an old maid who never married. His mother runs a boarding house. People that George has helped, without his assistance, have turned bitter and angry due to the cards life has dealt them. His own brother, whom George saved from drowning when they were children, perished without his older brother to save him.

The moral of this story, Clarence explains, is that George’s life has made a tremendous difference to countless people around him, and all is not lost.

Not surprisingly, George gets a new lease on life. One of the most famous scenes in the film is when George return to his life, and pure joy fills his heart as he runs through the town, naming all the places he has known since childhood – seeing them with new eyes and a new sense of appreciation.

In a tear-jerker ending to the film, Mary – the girl his mother promised “will help you find the answers George”, calls on the townspeople to help out her husband, who has done so much for them.

Surprise, surprise, they come through, in a heartwarming finish that cements the message that it’s better to give to receive, and that love, friendship and generosity are the things that matter in this life.

My heart is warming up now just thinking of this story and its moral about community and the importance of looking out for one’s neighbour. It’s a classic. If you haven’t seen it, don’t wait for next year. See it now! Merry Christmas…

"The Ordinary Radicals" directed by Jamie Moffett


I watched a film last night and I’m struggling with how to write about it. I really wanted to like it, but I walked out feeling frustrated and confused and somewhat alienated.

It was called "The Ordinary Radicals" and it examines what the director calls a movement of “revolutionary Christianity. One with a quiet disposition that seeks to do small things with great love.”

Sounds intriguing right? I had read and enjoyed “The Irresistible Revolution” by Shane Claiborne, co-founder with Jamie Moffett of the “Simple Way” community in Philadelphia, and one of the main characters in the film.

I loved the “simple” approach to living out his faith and making a difference, that Claiborne describes, from making his own clothes and reducing his environmental footprint, to coming alongside a group of homeless people about to be evicted from an abandoned church they have turned into their home.

Claiborne lives his life in a radical way on the front lines, in community with a group of like-minded people.

So TOR is basically a documentary following Claiborne and the film’s director Moffett and some of their other friends (there are a lot of players and most aren’t properly introduced) as they tour around the U.S. with the new book “Jesus for President.”

The film’s Toronto premiere was at the Bloor Cinema, and the place was packed.

So the film follows the group as they travel across the U.S. – in a cooking-oil-fuelled bus -- on their tour. They visit churches, community groups, a music festival, promoting their message that living like Christ goes beyond political affiliation or your stance on abortion, but really means living for others, in love.

On their road trip they highlight people who are doing that, from an advocate and activist who lives in an old bus to be close to the homeless, to some guy who won two cars on The Price is Right but sold them to go to Uganda, to a soldier who left the army because God told him to.

Some of these people are really inspiring, but there are so many, and there’s so little depth to each story, that my friends and I found it hard to really connect.

Claiborne and Moffett have been living this way for a long time, and at parts I felt like they felt obligated to tell the story of everyone they had ever met who is making a difference. In short, there was way too much information and it was way to scattered. And it was too long.

It seemed like there was no real narrative that wove through the film – and as a result the many anecdotes felt disconnected and disparate.

I would have preferred if they had focused in greater depth on a few stories. The Amish group that offered real forgiveness to a murderer who devastated their community – sharing that they were ready, in advance, to offer forgiveness, intrigued me and I wanted to know more.

I was fascinated by their explanation that “forgiveness means being willing to give up your right to revenge.”

Another paradox of this film is this: Though the group seems focused on building bridges between Christians and non-church people, it seems as my friend Jared said, to alienate almost everyone. The Christian Right, especially, seems to be the big bad guy and there seems to be an assumption that everyone would agree with that.

I didn’t like that perspective and it seemed to run contrary to their message of building bridges and promoting love.

Weird.

I also can’t imagine a non-religious person connecting to the film, which also seems to go against their goal of breaking down barriers. I mean really, there’s so much Christian-ese in the film, I think anyone without that context would walk out going ‘what the…???’

But I will say this – my friends and I spent more than an hour discussing the film afterwards in a pub over beer. At times we were ranting, and we all found things we disagreed with.

But somehow we were all inspired by parts too. Not by the film in general, I would say, but by a few of those stories about real people making a difference in their world.

I was going to end the blog there, but I just remembered one other thing that annoyed me. The very last line of the movie is from this woman, who like many people in the film just seems to appear out of nowhere, says: “We are the change we have been waiting for!”

That’s an Obama campaign slogan, and I thought it really discredited their non-political message to that point.

Argh! So brutal.

The Farley fallout

Hey,
The Farley interview went great! If you want to read about, you can do so, by clicking here.
Peace...

"Otherwise" by Farley Mowat, 2008


I get to sit down with Farley Mowat on Monday for an interview. The writer and activist's new memoir “Otherwise” – described as the last book he will write -- is just hitting shelves, and he's on a book tour.

It will be the third time I’ve interviewed Farley, and I’m pretty excited. In one way or another, this giant of Canadian literature has played a pretty important role in my life.

When I was pretty young – maybe 12 or so – my uncle Dave gave me a couple of books by him, including “Lost in the Barrens” and “The Curse of the Viking Grave”, that my older cousin Scott had outgrown.

I devoured those books and started dreaming of a career in anthropology or trapping or canoe-guiding – anything that would allow me to explore the Barrens in Canada’s north and live out the kind of adventures I was reading about.

I moved on to "People of the Deer", "Never Cry Wolf", "The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be" – anything the public library had on hand.

A couple of years later my family moved to a small town in a remote part of Northwestern Ontario, and those stories suddenly took on new meaning as I met real-life people who hunted wolves and bears and trapped otters and beavers for their pelts.


But my most personal encounters with Farley Mowat occurred after I graduated from journalism school and moved to Port Hope, Ontario to work as a reporter at the Port Hope Evening Guide.

Though Farley and his wife spend the summers in Cape Breton, they spend the rest of the year in Port Hope. I lived in a cottage right on Lake Ontario, and he lived around the corner on King Street, and would walk his dogs on the path that ran right in front of my place.

I had the chance to interview him a couple of times. The first was when his name was included on a list the RCMP released of suspected Communist sympathizers that had been under surveillance during the Cold War.

He told me a hilarious story about visiting the Russian consulate in Ottawa with his father Angus, getting drunk on Vodka and standing on the roof of the building in their Scottish kilts, mooning the CSIS agents they knew were holed-up in the building across the road.

The second time was when one of his short stories was turned into a film called The Snow Walker. The film is about a brash bush pilot in northern Canada who has no regard for his surroundings. All he needs to survive, he thinks, is his plane and his own wits.

That outlook caves in pretty quickly when he crashes in the Barrens and is forced to rely on his young aboriginal passenger to survive.

After we had discussed – over cranberry juice and whisky -- the adaptation and how Farley felt about it, he said “now what about you? What’s new in your life?”

It’s not a question a reporter expects to hear very often, so I was taken aback. But after a moment I managed to tell him I was actually getting ready to go to Morocco in a couple of weeks, to spend a year doing volunteer work with a Christian organization – and I was pretty excited about it.

Farley’s eyes lit up and he moved to the edge of his seat.

“You need to listen to the lesson in The Snow Walker!” he told me. “You can’t be like the bush pilot who thought there was nothing to learn. You can’t go over there thinking you’re going to help and teach people, but you need to be the student and learn from them!”

It was powerful, insightful advice, and I never forgot it. I was often reminded, during my time there, of those words and how true they were.

So I’m excited to meet Farley again, and to thank him for his advice. I hope he remembers me. I think he will. At 87 years old he’s still sharp and insightful, and is probably still walking his dog along the waterfront trail in Port Hope and sipping cranberry and whisky in the afternoons.