Craig Detweiler

Summer Break? Not for Cancer

Craig Detweiler — Thu, 14 Aug 2008 08:52:25 -0700

While summer should be winding down, a few things are still cranking up. The track and field events are about to start at the Summer Olympics in Beijing. Rick Warren of Saddleback Church is about to host a forum for presidential candidates Barack Obama and John McCain. And the Democratic Party will be staging their made for TV convention in Denver. Where will I be? In Europe, fighting cancer at the first Reel Lives Film Festival in Geneva.

A few years ago, as John Marks and I finished filming the first part of a Purple State of Mind, my precious wife was diagnosed with Hodgkins lymphoma. It was quite a blow. Cancer snuck up on our family and delivered a sucker punch when we least expected it. Unfortunately, cancer never takes a summer break.

A combination of chemotherapy, prayer and In ‘n Out Burgers carried Caroline to the far side of the struggle. The entire ordeal nearly killed her. But we are thrilled to report she remains 100% cancer free two years after her treatment. Amidst the battle, we couldn’t see very much positive or helpful coming from cancer. We still consider it an unjust, insidious killer.

So how do we counter cancer? Research must remain a global funding priority. Regular screenings and early checkups are a tremendous help. I'm doing my part to spread the word. I’ve been privileged to serve as the programmer for the inaugural Reel Lives: The Cancer Chronicles Film Festival, taking place in Geneva, Switzerland this August. Reel Lives is being held in conjunction with the bi-annual World Cancer Congress. It represents a partnership between the International Union Against Cancer and the generosity of sponsors like Glaxo Smith Kline. I’ve been privileged to combine my first hand experience as a caregiver against cancer with my film festival expertise.

So Dr. Film will take a summer break from blogging. But I’ll be roaring back in September, ready to rumble with my faithful readers.

China: Playing Games at the Olympics

Craig Detweiler — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 00:45:03 -0700

Amidst all the eye-popping grandeur in the Olympic opening ceremonies, one quiet moment stood out. The adorable Lin Miaoke sang a stirring “Hymn to the Motherland.” Of course, we could tell she was lipsynching. Pavarotti did the same thing. But it turns out she was swapped in for the seven-year-old whose voice echoed through the stadium, Yang Peiyi. Evidently Yang’s rounder face and buckteeth got her swept aside at the dress rehearsal. Imagine the heartbreak that accompanied the most famous musical fakery since Milli Vanilli. As a seasoned pro from television commercials, 9 year-old Lin Miaoke put her charming pigtails to work. The musical director for the opening ceremonies, Chen Qigang told Beijing Radio, “The audience will understand that it’s in the national interest.”

China extended a little bit of show biz fakery into the gymnastics competition. No amount of mascara can convince me these girls are the required age sixteen. On NBC, Bela Karoly fumed about the flagrant disregard of rules demonstrated by the Chinese. Ann Killion of the San Jose Mercury News pointed out that the relative youth of the Chinese girls may have helped them triumph over the America competition. As a 20 year old, college student, American gymnast Alicia Sacramone tumbled under the pressure while the little girls of China bounded toward the gold medal.

Such carefully choreographed chicanery pales in comparison to the control exerted on the average Chinese street corner. I vividly recall the unease generated by a stroll through the aptly titled Forbidden Palace in Beijing. “Friendly” locals approach tourists like me, volunteering to take pictures, asking where I’m staying and for how long. When the shops on a crowded Beijing street ended, an armed soldier blocked my progress. There would be no wandering out of the pre-established commercial zone.

There may not have been human rights abuses lurking one block off the main drag in Beijing. But the freedom of inquiry blocked by the government makes one wonder. What kind of games does China continue to play with its citizens? If buckteeth will get you banished from the opening ceremonies, what follows a political protest or a Chinese Christian’s desire for freedom of worship? We may never know.

Craig Detweiler Conversation, Part 2

Craig Detweiler — Fri, 08 Aug 2008 10:23:23 -0700

Here's the second part of three conversations I had with Peter from ConversantLife.com We discussed the tension around art and images in my new book "A Purple State of Mind: Finding Middle Ground in A Divided Culture." I hope you enjoy this conversation.

Frozen River: Oscar-worthy indie

Craig Detweiler — Sat, 02 Aug 2008 14:31:16 -0700

Frozen River may be the most moving and relevant independent film this summer. It deals with single motherhood, immigration, and native peoples’ sovereignty in surprising ways. Frozen River presents characters we haven’t seen in situations we’ve never imagined. It bursts with compassion and humanity. But like many earnest and original independent films, it will need plenty of advocates urging audiences to see it.

Frozen River won the Dramatic Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival in January. When jury chair Quentin Tarantino announced the prize for Frozen River, he said it “put my heart in a vise and proceeded to twist that vise until the last frame.” It is a riveting story of two determined women, forced by trying circumstances into smuggling immigrants into the United States. Melissa Leo stars as Rae, a working Mom, fighting off poverty with quiet fury. She longs to provide her kids with a new home. Misty Upham plays Lila, a Mohawk woman desperate to get her baby back. They become unlikely partners, traversing the frozen St. Lawrence river that separates the Canadian/American border.

Filmmaker Courtney Hunt has made a remarkably assured debut. Frozen River is taut, heartfelt, and authentic. She and the cast convey such compassion for the characters. It affirms single mothers struggling to pay the bills. It presents a complex portrait of Native Americans. It dignifies people who live in trailers, but strive for something more. Melissa Leo’s powerful, empathetic performance is Oscar-worthy. She burns with intensity amidst the snow and ice.

Set amidst a meager Christmas, Frozen River reclaims the peril of the Nativity Story. It reminds us that Jesus was born as a refugee, on the road, with no place to stay. And it takes a miracle to get everyone through a dark, silent night. Frozen River is a celebration of women, of motherhood, of the undaunted human spirit.

It follows on the heels of another Oscar-worthy film about refugees, The Visitor. It played all spring, earning a modest profit through positive word of mouth. Both films put a human face on the immigration debate, shifting it from national security to personal costs and loss. If the 2009 Oscars were held today, I’d give the Academy Award to Richard Jenkins as best actor and Melissa Leo for her gritty performance in Frozen River. Yet, with cineplexes increasingly overrun by comic book movies, discerning filmgoers will have to seek out and support cool alternatives like Frozen River.

I had the privilege of interviewing the cast and crew at the Sundance Film Festival in Park City, Utah. Our conversation was filled with personal anecdotes and moving stories surrounding the production. This micro-budgeted film has such an abundance of grace. Check out the exclusive podcast at the Kindlings Muse.com.

BITTER IN TENNESSEE: An Unholy Warrior

Craig Detweiler — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 22:18:15 -0700

If you want to know why we initiated the Purple State project, look no further than the murders committed Sunday morning at the Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church. While 25 children sang songs from “Annie,” the gunman fired three blasts from a shotgun. The seven people shot and two people murdered are the latest victims of the culture war.

Sadly, this wasn’t the first shooting to occur at a house of worship in America and not likely to be the last. Do we remember the four teenagers and three adults who were murdered at Wedgwood Baptist Church in Fort Worth, Texas in 1999? Two more died at New Life Church in Colorado Springs last December. (And as a nation we continue to support the right to shoot others over sane gun control policies).

While many evangelicals celebrated Cassie Bernall and Rachel Scott as martyrs who died for their Christian convictions at Columbine High School, I wonder how many would extend the same heroism to the victims in Tennessee? Evidently, usher Greg McKendry shielded the children performing selections from “Annie” and took the brunt of the shotgun blast. A retired school teacher, Linda Kraeger, also died from gunshot wounds. She was merely visiting the church. In both Columbine and Knoxville, the cowardly shooters took out their grudges upon innocent victims. Those with a conservative faith died at Columbine. Those with liberal religious beliefs perished in Tennessee. We mourn for them all.

The shooter in Tennessee, Jim Adkisson, has been identified as unemployed divorcee. A four page note found in his car described his contempt for liberals. The entire incident has echoes of Barack Obama’s comment on the campaign trail about bitter working class (white) folks clinging to guns and religion for comfort. When the system failed to work (evidently, his food stamps had just run out), Adkisson took up arms, aiming at those who he had been trained to hate—gays and liberals.

Why did he single out Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalists? Evidently, the church has recently posted a sign welcoming gays to their congregation. It set off a firestorm on conservative and Christian talk radio in East Tennessee. I found this online:

The specific chain of events that brought Jim Adkisson to the TVUC sanctuary was a recent decision to erect a sign specifically welcoming LGBT people into the congregation. That choice evidently set off a firestorm in the local right-wing community with the specific church and its location named repeatedly on right-wing and evangelical radio. The gunman, already looking for someone to take out his rage on, evidently took the path of local least resistance. At any rate, while I’m not sure it’s even worth assigning blame, it’s not likely that Jim Adkisson would have driven the ten miles from his exurban hovel to my family’s church if he hadn’t learned what he needed about where to go on the radio.

While ultimate responsibility resides with the shooters, we can also chalk these deaths up to too much toxic talk radio. Both the left and the right play the blame game all day long. On talk radio, my problems are always somebody else’s fault.

This is the kind of tragedy that occurs when we adopt the rhetoric of war and turn our fellow Americans into enemies. Both sides have effectively demonized the opposition, laying blame for our problems at others’ feet. Would it “kill” talk radio announcers to tone down their tenor for the sake of the common good? Couldn't they sacrifice a few ratings point by refusing to serve the red meat that their most radicalized listeners relish? Can't we as learn to change the channel as soon as the scapegoating begins?

I still recall my shock and horror when Paul Hill murdered Dr. John Britton in the name of ‘life’. How could a graduate of Reformed Theological Seminary and an ordained minister in the Presbyterian Church of America take up arms, killing in the name of God? I recently saw the chilling documentary Lake of Fire, which illustrates all the tragedies surrounding the fight over abortion. Director Tony Kaye captured early footage of Paul Hill, boldly proclaiming death sentences upon abortion providers. Lake of Fire also presents the horrors of an abortion procedure, including the emotional trauma that also follows. This even-handed movie leaves you with an enormous amount of sadness. There are no winners in Tony Kaye’s bold documentary (or in our current culture war).

Our feature documentary, Purple State of Mind, is created as a defiant act of celebration. It is rooted in profound hope that we can co-exist despite our differences. But plenty of patient listening must precede that fragile peace. We will not get there by burying our differences, but by bearing one another’s burdens enroute.

I entered into the Purple State of Mind project with a fair amount of trepidation. To promote peace to a war mongering people can get you in trouble. I don’t want to be placed on anybody’s hit list. I do not want to put my children in the line of fine because I extended an olive branch towards atheists, homosexuals, or anyone else deemed ‘other’ by the conservative Christian community. Churchgoers in Fort Worth, Colorado Springs and Knoxville simply want to worship in freedom rather than fear. When something your pastor says or your congregation does can get you killed, we live in decidedly dangerous times. Heaven help us all to cease fire.

The Dark Knight: Best of the Decade?

Craig Detweiler — Sat, 26 Jul 2008 12:55:46 -0700

With The Dark Knight’s claims to box-office pre-eminence secured, the spin cycle begins. What does this hugely popular, amazingly resonate movie mean? What is the message amidst all the madness cruising through Gotham’s streets? At HollywoodJesus.com, The Joker is associated with postmodernism and all things relative, making Batman the force for moral absolutes. At Dirty Harry’s Place, Batman emerges as a surrogate George W. Bush, willing to be hated for the sake of a larger mission. Yet, at Beliefnet.com, The Dark Knight is traced back to St. John of the Cross and his dark nights of the soul. Is this the sign of a great movie or merely a conflicted audience? How many readings are possible? How many readings are helpful? What might be the filmmakers’ intent?

The Dark Knight is all about choices. Christopher and Jonathan Nolan embed this comic book universe with the contemporary question: how should we respond to terrorism? Will we suspend civil rights for the sake of order? What are the limits of interrogation? The Joker pushes Bruce Wayne to the brink of his moral code. Batman breaks ankles to obtain information. Do ethics hinder our effectiveness in fighting crime? The Joker is frighteningly free, dangerously untethered. He makes law and order attractive. Yet, he also points out how easily we adapt or rewrite our rules. What happens when our plans are derailed? Do we paint ourselves as heroes to rationalize carefully crafted schemes? The Joker exposes our tendency to justify our actions irrespective of the law. How much difference is there between a mobster, a corrupt cop or an accountant who fudges the books? Don’t vigilante break laws, too? This is about how the world (doesn’t) work.

Casual moviegoers may be shocked by the thematic richness of The Dark Knight. It is far more than an adrenaline rush (although there are plenty of dazzling tricks–sky hook, anyone?!). As Batman chases The Joker down a hole, we are all implicated in this increasingly dark crusade. Interrogation scenes reflect the haunting photos from Abu Ghraib. Will we abandon our moral precepts to gather evidence? Even more horrific are the suicide bombers created by The Joker. His false promises of future glory literally consign people into becoming ticking bombs. We’re snapped back to London and Spain, where a bomb may be planted underneath or even within anyone. It is easy to turn on each other. In a paranoid era, how do we retain our faith in people? Is goodness still viable? The darkness in Gotham threatens to overcome us.

(Warning: Spoilers ahead!)

Just when The Dark Knight seems to have exhausted the audience, Christopher and Jonathan Nolan trot out an old saw in act three. The situational ethics of the sixties gave rise to countless teachable moments about characters adrift in a lifeboat. If a cross section of humanity were caught in a dinghy with limited resources, who should live and who should die? And who gets to stand in judgment? This moral dilemma takes on surprising relevance in an age of wiretapping, torture and Guantanamo Bay. Are some lives worth more than others? Who deserves to be saved? Can’t we eliminate the wrong kind of people? The Dark Knight could have devolved into silliness comparable to the television show, “Survivor.” Who will be voted off the island or thrown overboard? Instead, The Dark Knight offers a surprisingly humane, redemptive conclusion, rooted in prayer and compassion. The Joker gambles on our innate selfishness and loses. Nolan defuses the forgettable fireworks we’ve come to expect from popcorn flicks with something even more amazing: good resisting coercive evil.

The Dark Knight may be the best film of this decade. (It has actually rocketed atop the IMDb list as the best film of ALL-TIME!). It encapsulates all the conflicted feelings swirling around the war on terror. It burrows into our corporate soul and wonders what price victory. As the second part of a longed for trilogy, The Dark Knight stands alongside such troubling sequels as The Godfather Part II and The Empire Strikes Back. It is always darkest before the dawn. Fulfilling the promise embodied by his first features, Following and Memento, Christopher Nolan emerges as the most important director of his generation. I devote almost an entire chapter of my new book, Into the Dark, to Nolan. No one probes the human psyche with more depth or consistency. The cracked mirror he holds up in Insomnia, The Prestige, and Batman Begins convicts us. We are all duplicitous sinners. But Nolan doesn’t stand in judgment above us, but in conviction alongside us. He doesn’t talk down to the audience, but expects us to rise up, to examine the evidence, and come to the haunting conclusion that we are all murderers, thugs, and thieves. We’re all adrift in the same boat, searching for lifeline.

The main contender for finest 21^st century film is Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy. Both LOTR and The Dark Night offer mythic struggles riddled with temptation. Their action sequences are big, bold, and energizing. Both directors eke out a hard earned hope. Yet, Lord of the Rings looks effervescent and bright compared to Nolan’s Batman movies. While Lord of the Rings suggests that we can only resist evil as a community, bolstered by a fellowship of complimentary gifts, The Dark Knight chooses a more solitary path. He is willing to be hated, rejected and despised for the sake of society. Perhaps they represent the two moods/moments which divide the war on terror.

Lord of the Rings summarizes the first half of this decade. It offers clarity regarding good and bad, heroes and villains. It is rooted in J.R. R. Tolkien’s vision and experience of World War II. War exacted a horrible price, but good still triumphed over evil. Peter Jackson’s Rings trilogy reflects who we thought we were after 9/11. The enemy was clear, the world’s outrage uniform. But when we rushed into Afghanistan and especially Iraq on trumped up evidence without international support, we crossed over into The Dark Knight’s vigilantism. We poured money into new technology, placing our faith in firepower. It looked like mission accomplished. But we attacked as less than a fellowship. Without enough outside accountability, we descended to the level of our enemies. With our plans for quick succession derailed, Iraq edged toward chaos. The Joker drags Batman into a similar quagmire.

An air of dread dominates The Dark Knight. It taps into our fear regarding random terrorist acts. It reminds us of the creepy power of handheld video. One destabilizing force sets off panic in the streets. We all become ticking bombs, likely to explode in public spaces. There is no rationale for this kind of evil. The Joker is beyond greed. He delights in death. As Alfred reminds us, “Some men just want to watch the world burn.” The Gotham police and district attorney Harvey Dent are rooting out corruption, building a case against organized crime. They battle a multi-national, multi-racial crime syndicate that extends from America to Asia. But The Joker breaks even the criminal code, stealing from the mob. What happens when there is no honor among thieves? Perhaps vigilante justice is better when confronting disorganized crime. Batman adopts methods that the authorities cannot. Our problems in Iraq may stem from our strategy. A nation attacked a nation in order to catch a movement. We sent an army to combat isolated individuals. The Dark Knight reflects post-Iraq realities. All are fallen. Most are implicated. Few are spared. The stain of sin and duplicity washes over humanity.

The weakest link in The Dark Knight may be Batman himself. We see him ruminate over the ashes of a smoldering building, but he bottles up most of his struggle. There are hints of personal guilt and responsibility in his refusal to concede to The Joker’s demands. Does Batman really believe there is blood on his hands? While Batman Beginsfocused upon his backstory, The Dark Knight shifts to the origins of Two Face. Harvey Dent is free to vent his emotions and act out on his loss. But the famed bachelor Bruce Wayne must put on a different mask in public.

With Batman hidden by a cowl, Lieutenant Jim Gordon occupies the moral center of The Dark Knight. Like the soldiers who serve in Iraq, his family bears the brunt of the battle. They must deal with the long nights of waiting, wondering, and worrying. Gary Oldman brings a weary determination to Lt. Gordon. He is an everyday cop, familiar with the compromises inherent in the force. When a successful campaign bumps him up to police commissioner, he takes the job out of duty rather than joy. Gordon knows the cost of fighting criminals. It is long, protracted struggle, taking a toll on himself and his family. We feel the weight of his world.

So how do we deal with our fallenness? What solution does Christopher Nolan propose? Bruce Wayne brings his frustration to Alfred, “People are dying. What would you have me do?” Alfred snaps back, “Endure.” But such endurance involves much more than survival. We’re challenged to remain decent in an indecent world. Such choices come at considerable cost. The Dark Knight suggests we can die as a hero or live long enough to become a villain. Neither option looks particularly attractive. Both echo the sacrificial path of Jesus, Gandhi, and Martin Luther King. Their non-violent tendencies got them killed. By the conclusion of The Dark Knight, Gotham’s hope resides in a watchful protector, a silent guardian. He will suffer so that they might retain a hope, a promise, a purpose. Gotham may long for a white knight to save them, but for now, a Dark Knight must suffice.

Craig Detweiler Conversation, Part 1

Craig Detweiler — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 11:03:14 -0700

I sat down with Peter from ConversantLife.com to talk about my new book "A Purple State of Mind: Finding Middle Ground in A Divided Culture." I hope you enjoy the conversation.

THE DARK KNIGHT: Instant Classic

Craig Detweiler — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 20:59:43 -0700

The Dark Knight is the most ambitious and satisfying comic book movie ever, an instant classic. It thrills and chills, combining massive spectacle with timeless questions regarding our humanity. In exploring our disturbing depths, director Christopher Nolan attains unparalleled cinematic heights. It is a feast for the eyes and a challenge to the brain. While Batman battles the Joker for the soul of Gotham City, Nolan pulls audiences into the rarest of responses to a Hollywood blockbuster: genuine introspection. It is a soulful adventure. The Dark Knight explores the cost of combating evil. How many rules are we willing to break to maintain order? How many freedoms will we sacrifice to reign in chaos? The Dark Knight calls us to give an account.

The Dark Knight is a work of heroic imagination. Writing the epic screenplay with his brother Jonathan, Christopher Nolan cements his position as the best director of the 21^st century. In my new book, Into the Dark, I examine why no filmmaker has placed more movies atop the IMDb’s list of the top films of the 21^st century. Nolan documents our capacity for duplicity with unflinching honesty. The Dark Knight pushes past the indifference that often accompanies the summer popcorn movie. But Nolan disturbs our peace out of confidence rather than contempt. He trusts the intelligence of of his audience. Consider the dense, complex plot. Nolan never slows down to explain the multi-leveled machinations of Gotham. He expects viewers to catch up (or at least return for multiple viewings. The Dark Knight is an antidote to the cynical and soulless fourth Indiana Jones film that started this summer of sequels. That digitized disappointment was drenched in empty nostalgia. While Lucas and Spielberg count their first dollar gross, Nolan exposes the cost of wrestling with madness. He wraps the sickness in our souls within a visceral popcorn movie with shocking relevance.

(Beware: Spoilers ahead)

The bank robberies, skyscrapers assaults and high-speed chases in are all top notch. Nolan employed IMAX cameras that offer even greater detail in these breath taking action sequences. Yet, these comic book characters occupy a real world beyond digital effects. We feel each punch, scrape, and crash. The particulars of Chicago are also retained, right down to the Illinois license plates. For a film about organized crime syndicates, Nolan has wisely highlighted the reality of his locations and stunts. We’re exhilarated by the Batpod because its wheels and its path take place among us, in a city we recognize.

While the action pops, the acting gives The Dark Knight such punch. As Bruce Wayne, Christian Bale seems suitably disturbed by his own behavior. The scars on his body begin to take a toll. Batman’s surprise attacks are made possible by his haunting stillness. What is going on behind Bruce Wayne’s playboy mask? Has Batman descended to his enemies’ level? His relationship with Rachel Dawes hints at buried hopes. Is peace possible for Batman? We understand why Rachel seems unwilling to wait. Maggie Gyllenhaal makes us feel every chamber in Rachel’s divided heart.

As the Joker, Heath Ledger goes to a dark, haunted place. The Joker describes himself as an engine of chaos. He tortures and maims his victims for sport rather than profit. His twisted motto decorates a tractor trailor: “Slaughter is the best medicine.” Like other terrorists we’ve known, The Joker preys upon society’s outcasts, offering them a co-starring role in his anarchic play. But they turn out to be pawns in his fun and games.

What makes Heath Ledger’s performance so heartbreaking is the compassion he extends toward the Joker. This scarred scourge arrives on the scene already damaged, devoid of a name or a backstory. He changes his biography depending upon his victim. Whether he was tortured by his father or spurned by his wife, The Joker stands in for everyone who has come unglued via abuse. Ledger’s poignant performance comes on the heels of Oscar winning portraits of evil by Javier Bardem in No Country for Old Men and Daniel Day-Lewis in There Will be Blood. The Joker unsettles like Anton Chigurh or Daniel Plainview, but is even more compelling. Some may link Heath Ledger’s tragic demise to his over-identification with The Joker. Maybe he injected too much empathy into his portrait of evil. He felt too deeply.

The most haunting shot of The Dark Knight is nearly silent, as the Joker leans out the window of a stolen police car, his greasy hair blowing in the wind. Law and anarchy converge in one exhilarating and chilling moment. Rest in peace, Heath.

The Dark Knight’s moral dilemma plays out in the choices of district attorney, Harvey Dent. He stands as the symbol of hope in Gotham. The people’s faith is embodied in his campaign slogan, “I believe in Harvey Dent.” He asks an all too familiar question, “Should we give in to terrorist demands?” Harvey stands firm, inviting us to believe that “The dawn is coming.” His campaign to clean up Gotham has echoes of the faith extended to Barack Obama. Does he represent genuine hope or the beginning of disappointment for the next generation of voters? We need heroes, but what if they don’t deliver? How quickly will we turn and become two-faced?

As Harvey Dent, Aaron Eckhardt avoids his tendency to overplay his hand. His character may unravel as randomly as a coin toss, but the steps are built carefully. Perhaps the confidence and depth of the supporting cast resulted in Eckhardt’s understated performance. Gary Oldman owns his scenes as Lieutenant Gordon. Such quiet dignity commands our attention. Same for the twin pillars in Bruce Wayne’s life, Alfred the Butler (Michael Caine) and tech advisor Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman). When they speak, we all listen carefully.

These mentors challenge Bruce Wayne to consider the cost of his war. Alfred reminds the Batman that evil will rise when it is attacked. Reason is often the first casualty of such wars. Bruce must consider whether the Joker “is a man you don’t understand.” To illustrate, Alfred reflects upon his life during combat in Burma. How do you disarm those who “just want to watch the world burn?” Alfred’s experience has echoes of the Vietnam War when we burned villages in order to save them. Late in the film, the ethics of wiretapping arise. Lucius Fox bristles at the thought of spying on 30 million people. But Batman holds up the importance of this particular case. Just as pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer was willing to assassinate Hitler, so the Batman challenges Lucius to sacrifice freedoms to eliminate a larger threat. Christopher Nolan resists the temptation to underline the parallels to our war on terror. We’re left to apply the post 9/11 connections at our own discretion. May Nolan’s faith in the audience be rewarded.

COLDPLAY LIVE: ORDINARY HEROES

Craig Detweiler — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 22:19:43 -0700

From the backdrop of Eugene Delacroix’s famous painting of Lady Liberty leading the people to their Les Miserables-style, “Storm the Bastille” clothes, Coldplay’s tour shouts “Vive le Revolucion!” But on the opening night of their tour at the Forum in Inglewood, it was not clear what freedom was being celebrated beyond the sheer joy of musical release. Occasionally, the songs approximated a European soccer match—boisterous sing alongs where all were temporarily united as one. It was nice in an era of concert calculation to feel the arrangements being tested in front of us.

Earnestness remains key to the Coldplay oeuvre. They are a post-ironic band (which naturally begets a critical backlash). Singer Chris Martin expressed genuine appreciation throughout the concert, concluding, “This is gonna be a good one” after thefirst song. It is easy to imagine these four lads sipping coffee, reading the newspaper and playing withtheir kids. No drug overdoses for such studied musical pros.

Yet, given their positioning as the world's biggest new band, the heir apparent to Bruce Springsteen, U2 or other arena rock faves, Coldplay still have a ways to go. Surely their song catalogue has reached ample proportions. They trotted out some of their most beloved hits—like “Clocks,” “In MyPlace,” “Speed of Sound,” and the new anthem, “Viva La Vida.” The lighting, particularly six holographic supporting orbs, was creative, unobtrusive and original. Perhaps it hinted at their global domination of the pop charts. So why didn’t the audience seem utterly transported?

The comparative brevity of the show (an efficient 90 minutes) undercut claims to greatness. There was plenty of energy and fight left in their adoring fans. A single encore of “Death andAll His Friends” and “The Escapist” felt a bit truncated. At times, the guitar work of JonnyBuckland matched The Edge reverb for reverb. Chris Martin careened around the stage withgangly dance moves that can only be characterized as “Stuff White People Like" (Check out the hilarious, growing list at www.stuffwhitepeoplelike.com). It also seemed a bit chintzy to employ so many offstage musical effects. Couldn’t they hire a local string quartet to fill out“Viva la Vida’s” sound? I’d rather see a keyboardist fill in the synth portions of their hits than listen to backing tapes.

The most endearing and memorable moment of the evening occurred right behind us. After 75 minutes onstage, Chris Martin said, “I’m getting a bit bored up here.” The band dashed into the audience, down the aisle and up the stairs into our section. They wanted to get closer to fans in the cheap seats. (Although when surcharges brought my tickets to $120 each, it could hardly be considered cheap!). Coldplay crammed onto a tiny platform for an unplugged version of their first monster hit, “Yellow.” Then drummer Will Champion sang a simple version of “Death Will Never Conquer.” (It is available as a free download on Coldplay’s website this week). The purity of these musical moments elevated the night beyond arena rock. From fifteen feet away,Coldplay’s ordinariness made their success that much more extraordinary.

Their heroism doesn’t come from bold gestures but from earnest nerdiness banging away on the piano. The most memorable renditions were ballads like “The Scientist,” “Trouble” and a rousing “Fix You.” By the time hundreds of paper butterflies wafted from the ceiling during “Lovers inJapan”, the ladies had long since been won over. It was a beautiful ending. But for those who still wanted to rock, it was too little, too soon. Bigger isn’t necessarily better for Coldplay. Perhaps the mantle of rock savior weighs too heavily. How about nicest rock stars? That seems a good fit.

Here is the complete setlist from Monday, July 14, 2008

“Life inTechnicolor"

"Violet Hill"

"Clocks"

"In My Place"

"Viva La Vida"

"42"

"Yes"

"The Scientist"

"Chinese SleepChant"

"God Put a SmileUpon Your Face"

"Square One"

"Speed ofSound"

"Trouble"

"Lost!"

"StrawberrySwing"

"Yellow"

"Death Will NeverConquer"

"Fix You"

"Lovers InJapan"

"Death and All HisFriends" / "The Escapist"

Forgiving the Franklins (and apologizing to the gay community)

Craig Detweiler — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 21:47:05 -0700

A major event in my life came full circle last month. I had coffee with Jay Floyd, director of Forgiving the Franklins. This bawdy, subversive satire premiered at the Sundance Film Festival in 2006. The premise of this homemade, low-budget film intrigued me. This religious sex comedy has just been released on DVD (rated R for “strong sexual content including a scene of abherrant intimacy, graphic nudity, frank dialogue, and some language”–you’ve been forewarned!)

A devout Christian family has a car accident enroute to a church potluck. They are whisked away to a heavenly place where Jesus is chopping down a cross. He has grown tired of seeing the worst moment of his life paraded around people’s necks. Jesus greets the Franklin family and reaches into the back of their heads. He removes a bloody apple and sends them back to earth to continue their lives. The Franklins have been given a new lease on life, free of guilt and shame. Jesus removed their original sin.

They re-enter their Southern Baptist community walking in complete freedom. Mom walks out to pick up the morning newspaper in the nude. She offers her shocked neighbors a friendly, “Hello.” When the Franklins find the sermon at church boring, they feel free to simply walk out. They play in the park instead. The previously repressed Dad becomes an experimental tiger in the bedroom and shares his new sex advice with coworkers. And their son begins a homosexual affair with his football coach. The Franklins are thrilled.

Their church community doesn’t know how to solve a problem like the Franklins. They take some desperate and deadly measures to restrain the Franklins new found freedoms. At the end of the film, while the audience applauded, I wept. Never had I seen Christians portrayed as so venomous. Yet, rather than rejecting Jay Floyd’s vision, I found myself convicted of our corporate sin. At times, the Christian community has propagated a deadly, soul draining religion. We have persecuted and even murdered people in the name of God. The Franklins offered a cracked mirror that reflects our worst tendencies.

As Jay answered questions about the genesis of the film, he offered snippets of his autobiography. He had been raised in North Carolina (like me). His father had been asked to stop teaching Sunday School because he included too much humor. Jay’s homosexuality was condemned by church members. I felt the Spirit of God pressing down on me, urging me to speak.

I stood up. And identified myself as a filmmaker and an evangelical Christian. A nervousness washed over the crowd. They were ready to be attacked. But instead, I apologized to Jay and the entire audience for any evil or judgment poured upon them in the name of God. The entire tenor of the room shifted. The anger dissipated. A spirit of reconciliation was unleashed. Jay was prepared for a fight. He wasn’t prepared for an apology. You can read the complete story in my new book, A Purple State of Mind.

Since that transformative moment, I have had countless discussions with gay people who have chronicled their frustration, their pain, and their anger to me. They’ve poured out their souls and asked for prayer. They simply want to live in safety, comfort and freedom—just like all of us. Many long to find a church that will embrace them. It has been a beautiful rapprochement begun by Jay Floyd’s shocking satire. Forgiving the Franklins led to apologizing to the gay community.

Two years after Sundance, Jay happened across my website for Purple State of Mind. In many ways, Purple State of Mind is an extended apology, a counterbalance to the more contentious versions of Christianity that have dominated headlines for the past decade. We were both eager to reconnect, to talk about where we’ve been. Over coffee, I finally had an opportunity to say, “Thank you, Jay” for creating such a rowdy, rude and life-changing film.