sundance film festival

Higher Ground at Sundance

Craig Detweiler — Thu, 27 Jan 2011 07:48:22 -0800

The 2011 Sundance Film Festival is driven by ultimate questions. John Horn from the Los Angeles Times notes how bad faith fuels films like Salvation Boulevard, The Ledge, and Kevin Smith’s bloody Red State. Festival programmer John Cooper told Horn, “It’s America looking at itself.” Even the Sundance website acknowledges the rise of spiritual cinematic themes this year. The great news is that many of these refreshing films are likely to reach theaters this coming year. We have more than 100 students from faith-fueled schools like Fuller Seminary, Biola University, Taylor University, and Pt. Loma University gathered here to grapple with these deep themes.

Fox Searchlight purchased Mike Cahill and Britt Marling’s fascinating film, Another Earth. It uses the sci-fi genre to explore why we have such a hard time forgiving ourselves. The nuanced performances by William Mapother and Britt Marling move from horror to empathy to transcendence. It is a smart picture that respects the audience, expecting us to delve into philosophy and metaphysics without fear. How thrilling to hear Mike Cahill acknowledge his debt and interest in the humane work of Krystof Kieslowski, particularly, The Double Life of Veronique.

Director Sean Durkin generates remarkable tension in Martha Marcy May Marlene. Elizabeth Olson stars as a young woman fleeing an abusive cult. Her bruised by unbowed breakout performance is absolutely Oscar worthy. John Hawkes brings a chilling menace to his role as the manipulative commune leader, Patrick. We see how he slowly wins Martha’s confidence, recasting her as Marcy May. The horrors she experienced block her attempts to reconnect with her only sister, Lucy. It will be a long, rocky road back to normal for Martha and Lucy. Filmmaker Sean Durkin tightens the screws on the audience, ratcheting up the tension to a near breaking point. He displays the kind of control (never wasting a shot, a cut, or a gesture) that distinguished Roman Polanski’s early work. While Fox Searchlight purchased this riveting film, Martha Marcy May Marlene is a haunting, immersive experience that I’m not eager to see again.

A crisis of faith fuels an outrageous canoe trip in The Catechism Cataclysm. Steve Little of Eastbound and Down fame stars as Father Billy, a priest who can no longer remember the point of his Bible stories. He reconnects with his high school idol, ersatz rocker, Robbie Shoemaker (Robert Stonestreet). Their misadventures paddling down a river are hilarious, frightening, absurd, and touching. Five years after his highly original debut, The Guatemalan Handshake, filmmaker Todd Rohal returns with a literal vengeance. The jokes and the freak outs in The Catechism Cataclysm kept our midnight audience howling with laughter and unease. Yet, Rohal is clearly serious about the central theme—how to rediscover faith that has been lost. For Father Billy, Robbie’s random stories snap him back to the priesthood. For Rohal, making this arresting film has reawakened his faith in film’s purgative power.

Higher Ground is the most profound and nuanced exploration of faith I’ve seen since Robert Duvall’s 1997 Oscar nominee, The Apostle. Vera Farmiga makes a masterful directing debut, getting the tone and tenor of evangelical Christianity just right. Higher Ground works as a personal history, based upon the remarkable memoir of Carolyn Briggs’ This Dark World. Named in the film as Corinne, Briggs’ journey from naïve Iowa schoolgirl (and pregnant bride) to one of the 1970s born again “Jesus People” embodies an overlooked era in American religious history. The details of faith (from The Way Bible that she and her earnest husband read to the ethereal sounds of speaking in tongues) are all pitch perfect. The soundtrack is loaded with gorgeous, original source music. Despite the abundance of music within worship, Corinne gets no affirmation of art, literature, or ideas. Her only solace comes from her best friend, Annika. Dagmara Domincyzk brings such vitality to the role, offering frank talk about sexuality and adventure that Corinne desperately needs. How great to see two women with such warmth, humor, and intelligence onscreen.

When Annika is crippled by cancer, Corinne’s blessed assurance starts to unravel. Yet, Higher Ground treats religious faith with such rare respect. It is complex, messy, and real. Only an overzealous pastor’s wife and a horrific therapist earn our well-deserved ridicule. They demonstrate why some kinds of Christianity have been so soul crushing to artists and women (especially women who are artists like Carolyn Briggs!). I take comfort in knowing how many recent strides have been made in reintegrating the arts into religious settings. At Fuller Seminary’s Brehm Center, students are encouraged to find their artistic voice within the wellspring of faith and doubt. A powerful ending suggests that Corinne’s self-awakening may yet be reconciled to her ongoing religious yearnings. During a poetic post-screening conversation, Farmiga described Corinne as “not broken down, but broken open.” Farmiga concluded, “She’s not ridding herself of faith—she’s ridding herself of an impoverished faith.” This filmmaker and theologian said, “Amen.”

PRECIOUS AND RARE

Craig Detweiler — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 01:39:21 -0800

Precious is the most basic, extraordinary and humane film of 2009. After a summer of silliness, Precious arrives as a bracing alternative, powered by jolting performances from Mo’Nique and newcomer Gabourey Sidibe. It takes viewers inside the tragic life of a teen mother. It puts a face on poverty, abuse, and perseverance. Precious offers hard-earned hope amidst overwhelming odds.

I had the privilege of seeing Precious on the night it won the Grand Prize at the Sundance Film Festival. Director Lee Daniel was delighted to discover that ‘white folk’ liked his unapologetically ‘black’ film. Initially, it was called Push: Based upon the Novel by Sapphire. It arrived at Sundance with little fanfare, but got way under audiences' skin. Now, the star (and theme) of the film has been pushed to the forefront—everything revolves around Precious. Tyler Perry and Oprah Winfrey have added their endorsement. Viewers have responded by breaking box office records in both upscale art-houses and down-home black theaters. Just as pundits declared independent film dead, Precious redefines what's possible.

Why have audiences dared to care? Precious reminds us of the humanizing possibilities of film. It takes us inside a corner of America we overlook and avoid. It is a harrowing journey. But the raw truth contained in Precious serves as a bracing tonic during our tough times. To those feeling overwhelmed, Precious defiantly asks, "You think you've got problems?" The story humbles us all. Precious deserves to become an Oscar-fueled sensation.

Her monosyllabic answers initially make Precious (Gabourey Sidibe) easy to dismiss. She seems slow, unresponsive, barely alive. But as Precious reveals her secrets, we come to understand how and why she speaks so tentatively. Her mother, Mary, (played by Mo’Nique) comes across as a corrosive monster. She systematically shreds all sense of worth and purpose percolating in Precious. We catch glimpses of Precious’ hopes and dreams and long to deliver them. Her teacher, Ms. Rain, and her social worker, Mrs. Weiss, serve as audience surrogates, trying to draw out the repressed Precious. The further we venture down her Harlem rabbit hole, the more daunting her situation appears. Understanding what happened remains a small consolation. The horrors that Precious endures would surely break most of us. But her spirit is indomitable.

Precious and this move both defy the odds. How rare to see teenagers taken so seriously. How shocking to see sexual abuse addressed so directly. How surprising to see musical megastars like Lenny Kravitz and Mariah Carey subsume to such sobering material. How frightening to see Mo’Nique descend into such a scary place. How amazing to discover that the perky Gabby Sidibe is nothing like the depressed teenager she portrays. This is a celebration of black women made for all audiences with a pulse.

It snapped me back to my years in the black community in Charlotte. I started urban Young Life in my hometown because I sensed that God saw all teens, “red and yellow, black and white,” as precious in his sight. I never forgot that. But I put my neighbors’ plight on the back burner while I undertook marriage, grad school, and parenting. I may have changed, but unfortunately, the problems of inner city teens remain largely unchanged. Precious serves notice that we cannot continue placing Band-Aids on bullet wounds. It assaults our academic discussions of healthcare and education reform. A bumper sticker like “Just Say No” just doesn’t cut it in the situation that stymies Precious. Only a long walk alongside her, in the conscientious caring of Ms. Rain and Mrs. Weiss, begins to give Precious a sense of possibility.

Recap of Sundance '09

Give A Damn — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 11:34:23 -0800

Day 5: Dan Parris raps up Sundance '09

Conversant @ Sundance Day 4

Give A Damn — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 10:24:00 -0800

Day 4: Dan continues to ask great questions and gets a nice plug for 'Give A Damn?'

SUNDANCING WITH HENRY POOLE

Craig Detweiler — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 19:00:24 -0800

The Sundance Film Festival is always full of surprises. Some are snappy like Little Miss Sunshine or silly like Napoleon Dynamite. Others are serious like An Inconvenient Truth. A surprising number of Sundance movies are deeply spiritual. They range from the dark comedy of Adam’s Apples to the heartfelt drama of Save Me.

For five years, I’ve taken a group of students to Sundance in search of transcendent moments. We call our gathering the Windrider Forum. At the 2008 fest, we were surprised by the sublime charms of Henry Poole is Here. Yet, like many independent films, it experienced a quiet death at the box office. I kickoff off the 2009 edition of Sundance with a tribute to this overlooked gem, starring Luke Wilson.

Henry Poole is Here may be the most downbeat film ever made about faith. Despite miraculous moments, it maintains dour, minor chords throughout. Director Mark Pellington forces the audience to take on Henry’s mood. What happens when a loner wrestles with a terminal illness? What will it take to puncture his well-founded fatalism? Henry walks around in a drunken stupor. Vodka supplies his daily sustenance, until a blurry image oozes onto the stucco. Could it be the face of Christ?

A trio of faithful women come alongside our suffering hero. They bake Henry cookies, checking in, making sure he’s doing okay. His neighbors have symbolic monikers like Esperanza—‘hope’--and even the check out girl at the grocery store is named Patience. Esperanza sees the face of Jesus emerging from the stucco, but Henry’s skepticism keeps him from embracing his bland back wall. An even keeled priest, played by George Lopez, fails to cut through Henry’s depression.

But when Henry starts hanging around with a mute girl and her beautiful, divorced mother (the always appealing Radha Mitchell), we know he cannot possibly resist their dual charms for long. The earnest script by Albert Torres doesn’t contain many surprises. Yet, as the stucco gets under Henry’s cynical skin, so the story burrowed into my heart.

Henry Poole is Here takes place in the most anonymous suburban neighborhood possible. It was filmed on the “wrong” side of LA, the Eastside, in La Mirada. Why did Henry buy a house in this neighborhood? He is actually retracing his roots, connecting with both the painful and hope-filled moments of his childhood. So what about that face on the wall? Henry Poole plays it absolutely straight. No winking, no magic, no foolishness. Faith is affirmed.

Acclaimed music video director Mark Pellington took a major career turn to create Henry Poole. It’s muted tones contrast with his classic work on Pearl Jam’s “Jeremy,” INXS’s “Beautiful Girl” and U2’s “One.” What attracted him to a modest project like Henry Poole? It was a response to the tragic death of his wife, Jennifer Barrett-Pellington. He and his 2 and a half year-old daughter were left alone, heartbroken, in shock. Pellington told The New York Times, “I came to that point of my life where I questioned whether I wanted to live or not, because the pain was so severe,” he said. “I came out on the other side and said, ‘Yeah, I’m going to take every day for what it’s worth and embrace it, because each one might be the last.” Henry Poole became a passion project, a form of grieving, a chance to say something significant in a non-didactic way. In Entertainment Weekly, Pellington said, “All the central characters have dealt with loss in one way, shape, or form, and they’re changed or transformed through the course of the movie. A hopeless man finds hope, and a faithless man finds faith.”

The Christian community often rails against Hollywood, begging for faith-affirming films. Yet, when a minor miracle like Henry Poole arrives, it is often met with indifference. It slipped into Sundance rather quietly. It wasn’t discovered in theaters. Now, a year later, maybe Henry Poole will find the audience he definitely deserves.

A look back: Sundance 2008

Give A Damn — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 11:00:54 -0800