The Burr in the Burbs

As part of my preparation for a youth retreat I’m speaking at this weekend in Marshall, Michigan, I’ve been studying a new book by Jeffrey Overstreet called Through a Screen Darkly. I’ve long been a reader of his blog.

Yesterday, I read his comments on a film I actually have not seen. It’s called Saved! I don’t want to remark on the particulars of this film since, as I said, I have not seen it. I have only read and heard about it. The reason I have not seen it is not because I necessarily object to it. I just haven’t seen it yet.

If I may, the movie is basically a spoof of the Evangelical Christian subculture as exhibited at a Christian high school. I went to a small Lutheran High School myself and spent a great deal of my teen years going to Youth For Christ camps and events. So I think I probably have a grip on the premise. Being Lutheran, I wasn’t ever fully steeped in all the subcultural moves the film probably highlights, but I’ve been around them plenty.

If you guessed that Saved! elicited a firestorm of protest from Christians, you are dead on. So, once again, I remind you that since I have not seen this particular movie, I won’t add to the specific controversy. I have a feeling that I would NOT share the same righteous anger of many of my brothers and sisters about this movie, but I don’t know that for sure.

Really, I want to respond to some of the insightful observations that Overstreet makes in this part of his book. He highlights the fact that many Christians consider every poke of fun at the church as a direct attack on God. If I read him correctly, he cautions Christians from being hyper-sensitive to legitimate criticisms offered in the form of satire. It is a healthy thing to know how to laugh at one’s own foibles and failings. It shows humility. The wise man, after all, delights when someone corrects him.

Overstreet observes that comedy serves a useful role in society. Even silly screwball farces like
Zoolander or Anchorman serve a purpose beyond mere entertainment by putting light on man’s various pretensions in an entertaining way. I am reminded of the classic Saturday Night Live sketch during the presidential debates between Al Gore and George W. Bush in 2000. Both candidates were skewered by the show and it was hilarious, not because they were trying to be disrespectful, but because their exaggerated performance was rooted in truth. And it’s a testimony to their talent that so many who watched the program recognized its truthfulness, including the advisors to both Gore and Bush.

Let’s face it. Christians really are pretty ridiculous at times. I will applaud artists and performers who skillfully pop our balloons from time to time.

I would, however, like to add a couple of cautions. Overstreet recognizes the difference between making fun of Christians and making fun of Christ. While one is acceptable and even welcome, the other is not. Certainly not every protest from the Christians is a result of their being thin-skinned. They may not register their objections in a seemly fashion, but mocking God is a real offense. The Creator does not appreciate having His name abused.

Further, mock the hypocrisies of the Christians. But don’t mock the doctrines or beliefs of the Christians. This is a fine line to distinguish at times because so much of what it mock-able in us are the eccentric extremes or deviations we make to the historic creeds of God’s people. A bit of fun poking at the ways we express ourselves is at times fitting, but the underlying truths are sacred realities that impart life. Such things deserve a foundation of fear and trembling.

Satire can serve a beneficial function, but it can also be taken too far. I realize that this is subjective. What is “too far” to you, may be appropriately strong to me, but mean-spiritedness does little to advance understanding. It is in this respect, that I find fault with much of what Hollywood produces. While there are notable exceptions, it is generally true that Christians are negatively portrayed in the entertainment media. Are all Christians hypocritical all the time? Are all clergy pedophiles, greedy, insane or dimwitted? And why be one-sided? I don’t see many shows or films that ridicule secularism.

I can accept fair critiques that demonstrate the goofs of the Church. But without balance, such comedy strengthens stereotypes. And stereotyping undermines understanding. It effectively kills the thought process.

Even though I started to read Jeffrey Overstreet’s Through a Screen Darkly this summer, I had to set it aside for a while. But now I’m enjoying it full speed once again. Right now, I’m about half way through it. I’ve read a lot of books on movies and religion, but this one stands out so far for it’s philosophy of art. This is important stuff.

For various reasons, “conservative” Protestants tend to view all the arts with suspicion. Film is certainly no exception. But what role do the arts play in human life? How is the creative nature of God reflected in man’s efforts to create (or “sub-create” as Tolkien would differentiate)? Can we learn anything from art? Does it help us or improve us in any way? Or maybe we should step backwards and ask whether movies qualify as art. What is the difference between entertainment and artwork?

Furthermore, I’ve also appreciated Overstreet’s response to those Christians who criticize – or even condemn – him for recommending or commenting positively on particular films, even for viewing them. I am often asked to speak about movies and Christianity with church youth and I always cover the big three objections to movies from parents: nudity, violence, and profanity. I’ll post about that at another time.

A couple of years ago, Bono wrote a riveting short analysis of Elvis Presley for Rolling Stone magazine. Here’s a link. I just re-read it myself.

One of Bono’s observations reminds me of a book I read about a year ago called:
All Shook Up: How Rock ‘n’ Roll Changed America (Pivotal Moments in American History)

One of the interesting things about American Rock-n-Roll is the effect it had on race relations.

Bono observes: I recently met with Coretta Scott King, John Lewis and some of the other leaders of the American civil-rights movement, and they reminded me of the cultural apartheid rock & roll was up against. I think the hill they climbed would have been much steeper were it not for the racial inroads black music was making on white pop culture. The Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Creedence Clearwater Revival were all introduced to the blues through Elvis. He was already doing what the civil-rights movement was demanding: breaking down barriers. You don’t think of Elvis as political, but that is politics: changing the way people see the world.

Kudos to John Leo for a balanced editorial in the Wall Street Journal. He tackles the thesis of a new book which asserts that today’s adults are basically still adolescents who never grew up . . . and that’s a bad thing.

At first, I thought I was going to agree with the book and that his essay was a puff piece. But, I think he makes a fair argument that this may not be your grandfather’s America – and that’s not all bad.

300 came out on DVD today, the new film based on the graphic novel by Frank Miller. It’s a pretty riveting action film inspired by the ancient battle between 300 Spartans and about 80 zillion Persians.

As much as I enjoy the film with it’s stylish action sequences, a better rendition of the story is the novel by Steven Pressfield: Gates of Fire: An Epic Novel of the Battle of Thermopylae.

Nonetheless, one of the things that amazes me with the film is the striking portrayal of bad king Xerxes. Has there ever been a more Satanic character in two dimensions?

Just like Ol’ Scratch himself, Xerxes sets himself forward as your greatest friend. He just wants you to be happy, to experience the pleasures forbidden by your cruel vindictive god. To Leonides, you can be king; you can rule the world; you can have terrific wealth. Only bow down to me.

In 1948, Alfred Hitchcock directed the unusual thriller Rope starring Jimmy Steward and Farley Granger.

I say “unusual” because it is not typical for Hollywood to include drawn out philosophical reflections in its productions.

Entirely played out in two rooms of a single apartment, the opening scene shows two men at the final moments of strangling a third man to death.

Brandon and Philip are the two spoiled urbane collegians who are playing a game, performing an experiment, and, I suppose, attempting to realize their destiny.

Jimmy Stewart plays a former professor, still much admired by the boys for his unorthodox views.

Essentially, the drama revolves around Brandon’s and Philip’s avant garde ethical viewpoint. Patterned after the famous case of Leopold and Loeb, the two young men set out to commit the “perfect” murder just because they could. But they could not. And did not. They were caught.

I don’t quite know enough about Friedrich Nietzsche to be the judge, but the film’s two protagonists – especially Brandon – purport to embody the German philosopher’s idea of the ubermensch.

To be plain, Nietzsche believed that traditional Christian morality was generally demeaning to man. Since “God is dead”, (as he would say), why should men bridle their instincts, denying themselves terrific pleasure and reward to assuage a fictional deity?

For Nietzsche, might makes right. The one who has the power to enforce his will upon others is the best one. He spoke of the “superman” who would not grovel or cater to the heavenlies but who would assert himself.

Brandon certainly understood himself as the ubermensch. In his mind, murdering a cohort whom he considered an inferior was justified. Sort of a variation on Darwin’s natural selection.

Ideas do have consequence.

cf. Rope: Nietzsche and the Art of Murder; Hitchcock and Philosophy (Popular Culture and Philosophy)

I went with a couple of chums last night to a late showing of 1408, the current film based on a story by Stephen King. It starred John Cusack, one of my all-time favorite actors.

I really appreciate a well-written ghost story. This one was better than average but not stellar. A good ghost story always begs these two questions:

- Is there life beyond death?
- Is there a God and does He love or hate us?

I liked 1408 not only because it was a moderately scary flick, but because it did grapple with those two questions pretty effectively. Of course, most ghost stories fall very short of giving complete and correct answers but in an aggressively atheistic and materialistic cultural context, the questions themselves may represent progress.

Yesterday, I finished reading A Father’s Story by the father of serial murderer Jeffrey Dahmer, Lionel Dahmer. I found it enlightening. Parents look at their children and hope for the best for their future. To what extent, if any, should responsibility (blame?) fall to the parents for the crimes of the children? One of the things that I found most interesting in Mr. Dahmer’s book is the degree to which it was an examination of himself. The apple never falls too far from the tree. Not to say that Mr. Lionel Dahmer ever committed the particular atrocities of his son. But the author reveals that his own quirks, failings, weaknesses and flaws are present in seed form in his son. As he put it (I may not have the quote exact), he put his hand on the handle of the door to the room which Jeffrey entered.

Was Jeffrey genetically predisposed to become a murderer? From his father’s account, I’d say most likely. But that’s not such a stretch really. I think everyone is capable, under certain circumstances, to commit murder. Are our genes our destiny? I’m not saying that. Yet just as some people are naturally more sensitive, others “naturally” lack empathy.

What Jeffrey did, however, goes well beyond merely killing human beings. Perhaps his perversions defy explanation. One of the rationalizations that I find objectionable is when people label such people “monsters.” Jeffrey Dahmer was no monster. He was a man. A man who felt, willed, loved, and performed monstrous things. Is there a qualitative difference between Jeffrey Dahmer and you? Certainly a difference in degree, but in quality? Have you never hated another or wished someone dead? Have you never treated people like they are your possessions? Have you never – in pain or anger or sorrow – tortured the innocents? By your words? Your actions or inactions? Ah. Maybe we have all grasped the handle to the door of the room Jeffrey entered.

Now I’m reading a brilliant text by Mikal Gilmore, brother of killer Gary Gilmore, called Shot in the Heart. Mikal is a writer by profession and what a skillfully woven narrative he offers! Whereas Mr. Dahmer focused upon the genetic conveyance of evil (if you will), Mikal Gilmore seems to be looking at the entrenched patterns of violence in family systems. He looks much further into his family tree to see how close the apples fall. And this is a guy with a bizarre and terrible tale to tell.

I can never just read one book at a time. Lately I’ve been reading:

From my interest in movies:

Yesterday, after the church council picnic, I finished The Three Stooges: An Illustrated History, From Amalgamated Morons to American Icons. Loved it. Next I’ll take up my biography of Laurel and Hardy.

The Kill Bill Diary: The Making of a Tarantino Classic as Seen Through the Eyes of a Screen Legend by David Carradine

One of my interests has long been True Crime. So in that vein, here’s what I’ve finished recently:

Forensic Science of CSI by Katherine Ramsland

The Human Predator: A Historical Chronicle of Serial Murder and Forensic Investigation by Katherine Ramsland

Inside the Minds of Serial Killers: Why They Kill by Katherine Ramsland

A Father’s Story by Lionel Dahmer, the father of Jeffrey Dahmer. I just started this yesterday.

I frequently also have at least one management/leadership type book I’m nibbling on. A great one has been:

The No Asshole Rule: Building a Civilized Workplace and Surviving One That Isn’t

And something a bit more spiritually nourishing:

Philemon: A theological Exposition of Sacred Scripture (Concordia Commentary) by Dr. John Nordling, one of our crackerjack New Testament gurus.

I’ve enjoyed Peggy Noonan’s political writing for a long time. Here is her analysis of The Sopranos.