"[The stage] demands a special discipline, a raft of technical skills that cannot be mediated by the ministrations of directors and cinematographers."
~ Charles Isherwood

So Good, It's Painful

As I've said before, my favorite shows or movies are the ones that leave me incapacitated at the end. Literally in pain. These include shows like Gypsy and Next to Normal and movies like August Rush. But the funny thing about Gypsy is sometimes I get sick to my stomach just thinking about it. I don't even have to be watching it or listening to the cast recording. Merely thinking about the fight in the dressing room or last two minutes of "Rose's Turn" or the mocking laughter that erupts from the venom Louise's own mother cultured in her daughter's gut . . . I can't even deal.

And somehow I'm going to see this show three times in a row. Pray for me. I might just die.

The Rape of the Book, or Prince Caspian: The Movie

I walked out. I had never in my life walked out of any sort of anything until I saw Andrew Adamson's abomination of desecration: The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian. It actually makes me want to throw up to see Adamson has signed C. S. Lewis's name to his own kindergarten scribbles.

Save your money and read the book again.

Iron Man

Good movie. Of course, I say that as a fan of comic book movies, mostly for nostalgic reasons. It's one of those feel good movies that keeps you interested and lovin' it the whole time. There were people in the theatre, including myself, just exclaiming things left and right. Not to mention Gwenyth Paltrow wears these really amazing heels during the climactic scene at the end . . . and she runs in them. It's quite remarkable.

Go see it. You won't be wasting your money, I promise.

Swing Your Razor Wide

    Check out my review of Tim Burton's new Sweeney Todd film at Patrol Magazine, here.  Oh, and, not to gloat or anything, but I'd like to say that I called it right way back in June of 2006.

All You Have to Do is Listen

    There have only been two times in my life where a movie or theatrical performance has been so amazing that I’ve been forced to sit in my seat for some time after it's ended, too emotionally drained to move. The first time was at the City Center’s Encores! presentation of Gypsy last summer. The second happened last night when I saw August Rush. It’s not that either of these stories have any particular thing in common, except that they ring remarkably true and are so beautifully executed that they leave the viewer wholly satisfied and thoroughly exhausted.

    August Rush is a story of a boy who wants to be found – a boy who understands that the universe doesn’t operate around red tape or on the mere “laws” of nature and logic. This young orphan boy knows that beyond our pretense of human control, something else holds the universe together. He understands that God draws straight with crooked lines. The odds are morally, logically, and common sensically against him. Who finds his lost parents through music? Lost parents who don’t even know he exists? No one. But August goes on believing. It’s this faith that brings him through. And it’s the same faith – lost and regained – that brings his parents to him.

    August Rush won’t surprise you with plot twists or special effects or trips to magical lands. What it will do is cause you to look for the story in your life and the music that constantly swirls around you. It will show you that there is enough magic in this world that inhabitants from other so-called magical lands should be beating down the door to get into ours.

Shepherding Boredom

    The Good Shepherd is a really long movie.  For a film about the genesis of the CIA, it has about as much intrigue as a small town farmer's convention.  I was was so bored, I actually shut it off halfway through.  I'll never know what the payoff is (if there is one), but I'm certainly not fretting over it.

Come and visit your good friend Sweeney . . .

    Many in the theatre community are up in arms over the proposed film adaptation of Stephen Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd.  Among the complaints: 1) it shouldn’t be a movie; 2) Tim Burton is an inappropriate direction choice; and 3) Johnny Depp would make a bad Sweeney.  But I ask you to cast aside your worries for the time-being and listen to what I have to say.

    Complaint Number One: Sweeney Todd is a stage musical and shouldn’t be made into a movie.  Of the three complaints listed, this one holds the most water.  Ever since the horrible film adaptations of some of my favorite books, I’ve been very wary of the adaptation phenomenon.  But in most cases, the authors of my favorite books are dead and, therefore, have no say in the adaptation process.  In the case of Sweeney Todd, Mr. Sondheim is still alive and composing and even consulted the cast and crew of the new Broadway revival of the very show we’re speaking of.  Since Mr. Sondheim is still with us, he may very well also help out with this production of (what I consider) his masterpiece.

    Another hurdle in the adaptation process is the fact that Sweeney is a very theatrical piece, with over-the-top numbers and nearly-operatic climaxes unfit for the confining silver screen.  As much as I would hate to see some of Sondheim’s best music get the axe, an easy way to make numbers like “Epiphany” work on film would be to turn them into underscored dialogue, which I will touch on in more detail later.

    The last hurdle in the adaptation process is the director, which is where Complaint Number Two comes in: Tim Burton’s direction style is not right for Sweeney Todd; his films are too cartoonish.  Tim Burton strikes me as a very intelligent director with a distinct vision for every movie he makes and that is precisely why this partnership will work.  Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd’s is so remarkably written in every sense, that as long as the substance remains the same, a director can do nearly anything he wants with theme or style, especially if he is such a distinct visionary like Mr. Burton.  Just look at the two Broadway productions we’ve seen.  Under Hal Prince’s direction, Sweeney was a tale of social injustice told in a modern sort of expressionistic style while John Doyle’s recent production takes a closer look at the story’s psychological underpinnings.  Prince’s stage was large with a metallic and industrial looking set while Doyle works with a small stage and a minimalist set with very few props.  Even the orchestrations and casts are very different.  Prince had a 27-piece orchestra while Doyle cut it down to nine.  Prince worked with a large chorus in addition to the main characters while Doyle’s cast of ten serves as both the established characters and the chorus.  Even the characters are portrayed differently in Doyle’s production: a more introverted Sweeney, a sexier Mrs. Lovett, and woman as Pirelli.  And yet, with all these differences, the story still shines through and the story is what’s most important.  Don’t write off Mr. Burton quite yet.

    All that remains in dispute is Complaint Number Three: Johnny Depp would make a horrible Sweeney.  My first response to this would be, “ARE YOU INSANE?!  HAVE YOU NEVER SEEN THE GUY ACT BEFORE?!”  But that, of course, is not the most intelligent of arguments, so I suppose I’ll have to support it with some actual logic.  First, Tim Burton is directing this film and, for whatever reason, he and Depp have an uncanny understanding of each other, such that their movies tend to turn out better-than-well.  It is very true that we don’t know whether or not Depp can sing any Sondheim score, let a alone the tremendous difficulty of Sweeney Todd’s score, but think of it this way: If Burton decides (as rumored) to convert some of the more theatrical songs to underscored dialogue, Johnny Depp is the best possible choice for the role of Sweeney Todd.  If you think Michael Cerveris makes an introverted and contemplative Sweeney, just wait until you see Johnny Depp.  I can just picture him stepping outside his barber shop on Fleet Street, whispering maliciously to himself as he surveys the crowd below, “All right . . . you sir!  How about a shave?  Come and visit your good friend Sweeney.  Ah!  You too, sir!  Welcome to the grave.”  It could work marvelously.

    I’m not saying this will be a perfect adaptation, or even a suitable one at that, but there’s no way of knowing until it’s made.  All I’m saying is that we have plenty of information that hopefully points to a good adaptation.  Just give it a chance.

Of Da Vinci and Darwin . . .

    I think it's about time for me to weigh in on this Da Vinci Code mess.  I find the uproar in the Christian community to be utterly ridiculous.  It's a movie.  It is fiction.  If people watch this movie and believe it (or much of it) is true, they are mindless buffoons whom natural selection will deal with accordingly.   But I think you'll find the majority of people want to see this film for the purpose of escapism: a smart action flick is what they're looking for.
    And there's nothing wrong with that!  A person can enjoy a fast-paced mystery film whether or not it agrees with his theology or worldview.  If you are interested in the movie, bully for you!  Go see it and have a good time!  If you're not interested in the movie, that's great, too!  Just don't see it.  And for the sake of my sanity and your physical condition, don't tell me that I'm risking the triumph of God's Kingdom if I decide The DaVinci Code is worth my hard-earned money.  Christ will prevail against the gates of Hell no matter what you or I do to "help" or "hinder" it.
    Personally, I think I would enjoy the movie . . . to a point.  By all accounts, it's an engaging mystery (a genre we don't see a lot of anymore), with twists and turns that will make one's head spin.  The trailers and clips I've seen kind of remind me of the earlier seasons of ALIAS.  But I digress.  However much I would enjoy the treasure hunt aspect of the film, I think it's conclusion would drive me mad in that it doesn't jive with my beliefs.  I would most likely leave the theater wanting to do violence to the film's creators and that is something I would like to avoid.
    Therefore, I will not be seeing the much-anticipated Da Vinci Code.  If you want to see it, go ahead, but don't come crying to me that it ticked you off.

Wanted: One Dramaturg

    I just saw The Jacket this afternoon and I think I’d give it three stars out of seven.  It was an enjoyable movie, but the writer and director could have done several things to make it much better and more coherent.
    Personally, if a movie wants me to suspend my disbelief in time travel, I’ll do it without hesitation – just because it’s a cool idea – as long as it’s presented well.  What I liked about The Jacket’s presentation of time travel is that, even though Jack repeatedly traveled to the future, the future didn’t change based on his actions in the present.  And I was really excited about it . . . until the end when they decided to abandon the idea and it all came crashing down.
    Unfortunately, in order for the proper ending to replace the current one, the love story would have had to be real as opposed to a box on the checklist of scriptwriting.  Aside from the ridiculous and completely avoidable similarity in their names, I love the idea that Jack helps little Jackie and her mother in 1993 and then falls in love with Jackie in 2007.  What I don’t love is the way their relationship came about.  One minute she’s merely helping him track down information on his death at Alpine Grove, the next minute he’s leading her through the asylum by the hand as if he’s held her hand ten thousand times before, and the very next he pulls her to him John Wayne style and they have themselves a romp.  Had the writer, director, and/or actors taken care to build the attraction and desire by small glances, gestures, or a careful word from time to time, the John Wayne moment would have won me over and the sex scene would have been far less unecessary than it was.  As it is, my reaction was, “Where did that come from?”
    Had they built the relationship the way they should have, they could have used the appropriate ending where, instead of Jack returning to a changed future, he could return to the same future with the unfortunately named Jackie waiting for him.  As it is, the ending makes zero sense in the context of the film and left me rather dissatisfied.
    All things considered, The Jacket is a decent thriller, though lacking a focus and purposeful direction.  If you have time to kill, I suggest watching it, if only for Adrien Brody’s faultless performance.

Brick

    I find the trailer for this film to be quite intriguing, though I'm not very sure what the movie is about.  Focus Features has generally been a trustworthy studio.  They produced such films as the new Pride & Prejudice, The Constant Gardener, Something New, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, The Pianist, and Being John Malkovich.  That's not to say they don't have some major failures -- if not commercially, then in my book -- like Gosford Park (though I may have to give it a second chance), Far From Heaven, and, most recently, Brokeback Mountain.
    Their less-than-great endeavor's aside, Focus produces a larger percentage of movies that I enjoy than any other studio.  It has been the pattern that those Focus trailers that intrigue me end up as films on my favorites list.
    I've read a few conflicting reviews on the film, so I’m not sure I want to take the chance and spend six bucks on Brick in theaters, but I’m sure I'll tack it on to my excessively long Netflix queue come DVD time.

Remember, remember the fifth of November . . .

    If the lives of your compatriots were threatened by some outside force, would you give up some of your rights to feel safe?  Or do you agree with Benjamin Franklin that, “They who would give up an essential liberty for temporary security, deserve neither liberty nor security”?  This is the world the British, as a result of their fear, have resigned themselves to in V for Vendetta.  And in a complacent dystopia ruled by fascists, the only way to start a revolution is to incite chaos.
    Vendetta is one of the most brilliant movies I’ve seen in a long time.  It’s a no holds barred action flick -- full of explosions and blood -- that actually forces it’s viewers to think.  After a masked man (known only as “V”) rescues Evey Hammond (our leading lady) from a group of would-be-rapist police officers, Evey is swept up in V’s world of vigilantist vengeance, which she is initially reluctant to take part in.  V models his actions after those of the infamous Guy Fawkes and, in classic comic book style, wears a Guy Fawkes mask through the entire movie to hide his disfigured face.  V, like Fawkes, aims to blow up parliament in an act of defiance and as an attempt to incite a once complacent people to revolution and self-government.  The meeting of two opposite people, like V and Evey, presents occasions for learning and discovery – for one, principle, and for the other, love.
    If Star Wars has been your only test of Natalie Portman’s skill, you have been greatly deceived.  Portman’s grip on Evey Hammond is so solid that after they initial, “Hey, that’s Natalie Portman,” you won’t think of her again.  Evey has a difficult and substantial character arc, but Portman handles it with consummate skill.  She takes Evey from a young woman deathly afraid of admitting she has principles -- let alone the ability to act on them -- to a woman who, having been broken in everyway possible, becomes V’s fearless ally.  It is both a testament to Portman’s skill and the excellence of the writing that this transformation doesn’t seem unnatural.
    The real star of this film, of course, is Hugo Weaving as the mysterious V, who never comes out from behind his Guy Fawkes mask.  The fact that we never see his face doesn’t at all take away from Weaving’s performance.  Somehow he conveys everything he needs to with body language and his mellifluous and resonating voice.  His body language somehow never seems forced, but it flows with the intent of the words, much like one’s face does.  With a slight cock of his head, you just know V is raising his eyebrow.  And with his voice, Weaving can make the mask seem at times terrifying, sometimes jocular, and other times pitiful.  A truly masterful performance.
    The supporting cast is likewise flawless.  John Hurt’s Chancellor Sutler is an insidiously terrifying character.  Stephen Rae brings depth to Inspector Finch where other, less careful actors might be tempted to make him into a cardboard cutout.  All the villains, all the good guys, and all those astonished citizens make this movie more than just an action flick.
    Vendetta’s script itself is a well-crafted and gripping piece of work, but a movie is far more than a script and a more-than-capable cast and crew bring it to life in a marvelous fashion.  The art directors bring us some striking visuals with a color palette that really fits the mood of the piece.  From the black of V’s wardrobe and the Scarlet Carsons he leaves on his victims to the emblem on Britain’s new flag, to the blood slinging from the necks of V’s victims, black and red dominate.  But metallics and earth tones also play their role, contrasting the dystopian order of the fascist government and the stone underground of V’s lair, with its collection of wrongfully-censored art.  The soft colors of V’s world make it easier for the mind to sympathize with the borderline terrorist, especially when compared to the glaring and harsh world of the government.
    The film is teaming with the intersecting themes of coincidence and truth, justice and vengeance, complacency and corruption.  Is there really such a thing as coincidence, or is it just the illusion of coincidence?  If it’s just the illusion of coincidence, then is some greater power trying to tell us something through this illusion?  Are those who think they see the point of the illusion, like V, justified in using methods commonly associated with terrorism to get others to understand the truth?  Or is this merely vengeance?  Did the British government justly reap this vigilante harvest by sowing the seeds of terror and corruption?  What about the complacent people?  If V punished the British government for their actions, was not the government a punishment for the people’s complacency?  Is our own America complacent?  Could the republic we (used to) take pride in turn out this way?  Do we even care anymore?
    I have only two reservations about this film: its blatant attempt at over-sympathizing homosexuality and its failed attempt at convincing me the fascists are extreme right-wingers.  Instead of the excessive mentioning of the plight of homosexuals under this government, the celluloid could have been used to better effect showing the plight of Muslims, Jews, non-Caucasians, non-British folks, or any of the other oppressed groups in order to show the sweeping arrogance and elitism of the government.  Additionally, trying to convince viewers that a fascist government is the inevitable result of a right-wing takeover is so completely illogical that not even Hollywood could pull it off.  So many of the choices made by those in power are choices that necessarily follow the nihilism dominant in left-wing circles and could never be logically made by a conservative.  But don’t let those minor annoyances stop you from seeing Vendetta.
    Near the beginning of the film, Evey, quoting her father, makes a mournfully true statement, “Artists use lies to tell the truth while politicians use them to cover the truth up.”  Some of the lies artists tell are badly told, weather visually or on the written page, but this is not the case in V for Vendetta.  This is an excellent movie, not to be missed.

More End of the Spear

    Well, I was going to write up my fully-formed opinion on the End of the Spear controversy this afternoon, but it seems this person already did it for me.

The Recovery of Art at the End of the Spear?

    When I first heard about End of the Spear (the new movie based on the real life story of the five missionaries killed in Ecuador by the indigenous Waodani tribe) I let out a tired groan, knowing that Christian production companies (this time it's Every Tribe Entertainment) have a tendency to produce artistically terrible stuff.  I was dead set on not seeing it.
    Recently, however, much of the evangelical community has been up in arms over the fact that Every Tribe hired not only a gay man (*gasp*) but a gay activist (*double gasp*) to play missionary Nate Saint and the grown up version of his son, Steve.
    Oddly enough, this makes me want to see the movie.
    I appreciate the fact that Every Tribe refused to brush off the actor with the best audition simply because he is gay and a gay activist.  It shows that their focus is on making a good movie, rather than making politico-religious statements.  I think this is the most Christian thing a Christian production company has ever done and, as a result, I will now be seeing what I hope will be an excellent movie.

The Wonders of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

    It was like being five again.  Lucy wandered into Lantern Waste and her eyes expressed the wonder I felt upon first reading that moment in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.  Simply put, the movie was wondrous.  I felt transported.  It was the most entertaining film I've seen all year and that's not an exaggeration.  At the end of the film, I accidentally started a round of applause when I clasped my hands together with pure, unadulterated joy and I'm not sorry I did.  Nearly everyone was wide-eyed with delight when they left the theater and more than one young man I know had the urge to engage in a bit of sword play.

    Though I enjoyed it immensely, there were some things that the adaptation changed or left out that I felt distracted from the original intent of the story.  For one, Edmund is far too sympathetic before his repentance.  Lewis makes it clear that Edmund is as selfish as they come, deceitful and filled spite.  The movie makes him a sort of unwillingly selfish character, forced to be so because of Peter's superiority complex. This makes him too sympathetic from the beginning, makes Peter less noble, and, most importantly trivializes Aslan's sacrifice.
    While we're on the topic of Aslan, he should have been bigger.  Aslan needs to inspire awe from the first moment you look at him.  Not just a "Whoa, that's a lion!" awe, but a fall-down-on-your-knees-with-reverence awe.  And, while the scene at the Stone Table was certainly powerful, it would have been more so had the writers kept intact what Lewis thought to be so important that he repeated it at least five times: Aslan's complete submission to the White Witch.  Lewis repeatedly wrote how Aslan could have easily killed everyone present, but remained silent and did not resist.  In the movie, there was some shying from the ropes and lifting of the lip as if to bite or growl.  Aslan's submission is one of the most important parts of the story.  He was so committed to sacrificing himself for Edmund -- and, indeed, all of Narnia -- that he didn't even give a hint of resistance.  His not-so-submission made him too normal and less worthy of awe.
    But I fear Peter got the worst of it when he was adapted for the film.  Somehow he became the token unwilling hero who becomes the great king in the end.  I understand the writers were trying to give his character a greater arc, but it there was nothing smooth about it.  Peter got stuck in the unwilling rut for WAY too long.  He was so unwilling, he didn't treat Aslan with respect and even seemed whiny at times and preoccupied with sending his brother and sisters home, even though he knew they were to be king and queens of Narnia with him.  Then, all of a sudden (about the time the Witch mortally wounded Edmund) he became the great hero, fighting for his Narnia.
    This brings me to one of the most irritating parts of the film.  During the battle, when it seems clear that Aslan's forces are going to be defeated, Peter tells Edmund to take the girls and go home (something that never happened in the book).  Edmund starts to obey his brother, the High King of Narnia, but when he sees the White Witch turning his comrades to stone right and left, he decides to go after her.  The beaver reminds him of Peter's command and Edmund responds with, "He's not king yet."  This is the most warped view of the book in the entire movie.  If the writers had just left Peter's newfound army-of-one attitude out of the film, this (among other things) would have never been an issue.  In the book, Peter calls Edmund a hero.  In the thick of the battle (in which they were BOTH fighting) Edmund saw how the Witch was turning their army to stone with her wand and he took it upon himself to break the wand, nearly getting himself killed in the process, but turning the tide of the battle.  Peter rightly calls him a hero for it.  There's nothing heroic about his insubordinate actions in the film. They only serve to show how his character never really changed, which is very annoying and nearly ruins the story.

    But, like I said, the story is pretty much intact and the movie is so captivating that the little annoyances don't really matter.  I highly recommend this film to anyone, but especially those who have read the book.  (I actually went with one person who did not read the book and, after the movie, she told us that she was a little confused, but she enjoyed it very much.)
    Go see it.

Pride & Prejudice

    The newest adaptation of Jane Austen's brilliant and celebrated novel, Pride & Prejudice, while not the fleshed-out, gorgeous perfection of A&E version, is too beautiful not to see. I'd write a review, but I don't think it requires one. Just see it.

RENT -- "How about love?"

    Of late, I have been considering not seeing the RENT movie when it comes out next week.  Yes, I am a musical nut, but I've never really liked RENT.  I only enjoy about four songs on the cast album and I find the message weak and lacking.  Here you have these rebellious bohemians who care only for their art (and -- so they say -- each other).  They refuse to be responsible and pay rent (however devious their landlord has been), they sleep around and contract AIDS, one is an S&M dancer at a local club, some cheat on their significant others, and half of them are decidedly not heterosexual.
    Yes, this sort of thing is "real".  Yes, New York City was like this at one point (probably still is in a lot of areas).  But do we really have to glorify it?  Do we have to lift up the actions of the reprobate in order to tell a good story?  Is it really a good story or is it the secular world's idea of a good story?  Somehow, I find it very hard to see the redemption in RENT.
    Unlike it's predecessor, La Bohème, RENT fails to show the consequences of the characters' actions.  The RENT-bohemians, like the La Bohème-bohemians, live the life of the poor.  They are cold, tired, weary, and can't find work to make money.  La Bohème shows what actually happens to people in this sort of situation; RENT sugarcoats it . . . glorifies it. In both shows, Mimi is terminally ill -- in RENT she has AIDS, in La Bohème, tuberculosis.  But AIDS, unlike tuberculosis, is usually contracted through less-than-blameless activities.  RENT's creator, the late Jonathon Larson, not only replaced the one sickness with another, he gave it to Roger/Rodolfo, to Angel/Schunard, and to Collins/Colline in addition to Mimi.  Instead of keeping it the tragic love story of two flawed people, he made La Bohème into a mock-tragedy more about a group of rebellious friends than love.
    Why do I call RENT a mock tragedy? You cannot present something as tragedy without the actual death of a character.  If Mimi is going to die, let her die.  The story will be stronger for it.  While I understand and love theatre's heavy reliance on "suspension of disbelief", when a playwright asks me to accept what he presents as what happens in the real world, then brings a main character back to life, I can no longer suspend that disbelief.  Larson crushed his own world and I can no longer believe in it.

    RENT chronicles a year in the tumultuous, self-serving, drug-filled, and sometime sodomic "love lives" of a group of friends; La Bohème follows the love of one man for one woman and how its comedy and tragedy helped bring a group of friends closer together.

    So, is it worth my while to watch this movie?  Will it instruct as well as entertain?  If so how will it instruct and will it be worthwhile instruction?  Will the learning be so valuable that it's worth watching Mimi pole dance in skimpy clothing, Maureen propose to another woman, Collins and Angel (two men, one a transvestite) kiss and profess their love for each other?  It's not that I think this movie will change my staunch position on certain topics like homosexuality, only that I'm not sure it's worth it to fill my mind with such filth in order to receive the movie's over-generalized moral: love.

Nobility in Elizabethtown

“ . . . the idea of nobility is inseparable from the idea of tragedy, which cannot exist without it. If tragedy is not the imitation or even the modified representation of noble actions it is certainly a representation of actions considered as noble, and herein lies its essential nature, since no man can conceive it unless he is capable of believing in the greatness and importance of man . . . We no longer tell tales of the fall of noble men because we do not believe that noble men exist. The best that we can achieve is pathos and the most that we can do is to feel sorry for ourselves. . . . But a Tragedy, Divine or otherwise, must, it may again be repeated, have a hero, and from the universe as we see it both the Glory of God and the Glory of Man have departed.”
~ Joseph Wood Krutch, The Modern Temper, “The Tragic Fallacy”

    Elizabethtown, while not a tragedy, brings back this long-forgotten idea of noble man. The idea that men aren’t just some lowly creatures and equal to all other animals, but a higher order, created in the image of the Almighty God and therefore inherently noble. Yes, men tend to shun this nobility, but it is in all of us and it is this inherent nobility, rejected and found again, that Cameron Crowe weaves throughout his film.
    We begin with Drew Baylor (Orlando Bloom), a young, fast-climbing shoe designer obsessed, like the rest of America, with success. When his apparent success spirals down first to failure and then fiasco, he becomes lost. He had cast nobility aside to pursue success and failed. Without the nobility he rejected and the success he strove for, Drew has nothing, so he decides to kill himself. But then his sister calls with news of their father’s death and he has to put off his suicide until he can tie up the loose ends.
    What follows is the gradual awakening of nobility in Drew. In flight attendant Claire, Drew finds something he never knew could be so wonderful: the nobility he has rejected. Claire – with the aid of many intriguing characters – helps Drew understand that his life is meaningful . . . important even.
    The film doesn’t tell us what it is that makes Drew’s life meaningful or important, but that’s its beauty. A film that can come to one conclusion and one conclusion only, is not a good film.
    This is a good film. It’s not a film you go to in order to sit idly back in your seat as your brain mindlessly soaks up the words. You have to engage with this film. You have to work to understand the characters and why they say things. What those looks mean. But enjoy yourself. It is a movie, after all.