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By: Alex Wilson
The Stonewall Riots are such a significant part of my culture as a Queer person. They provided me with hope and resilience as I was learning how to navigate the heteronormative world we live in. They also gave me Pride, although a very different one from what we see celebrated today.
So you would think, when I heard a movie focusing on the events of Stonewall was coming out this September, I would be ecstatic. I mean really, the Gay and Lesbian section on Netflix is barren. But instead of excitement while watching the trailer I felt infuriated, disgusted, hurt and appalled.
The riots began in response to a particularly brutal police raid on June 28, 1969, at the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village, New York. Rioting and civil disobedience continued through the following nights and a Christopher Street Liberation march was mobilized shortly after. These riots fundamentally changed Queer activism. They started new radical Queer rights organizations like the Gay Liberation Front, the Gay Activists Alliance as well as the Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries and launched the modern Queer Rights movement. They also started a culture of Pride in the Queer community, as for the first time people were fighting back en-masse against systemic oppression. This activism was in stark contrast to the assimilative tactics being used before that night.
Stonewall embodied intersectionality. The patrons of the bar were predominantly trans folk, drag queens, self-proclaimed dykes, sex workers, queer runaways, and people of colour. All of these people faced multiple barriers of systemic oppression and Stonewall acted as a space for them to congregate and be themselves. To say that they were only rebelling against Queer oppression would be dangerously false. Miss Major Griffin-Gracy, a lifelong trans-activist and patron of the bar that night, provided insight into the level of marginalization these folks faced when she told her account of the night.
“When you get in those kind of situations, the first thing you want to do is piss off whatever guard you’re fighting so much that they knock you completely out, then you’ll live another day. They won’t keep beating on you until you don’t live.” The leaders and primary instigators of the rebellion that night were almost all dykes, transwomen or drag queens of colour, that all experienced this degree of marginalization. Yet the film has whitewashed the story and replaced key female roles with those of males to the extent that the protagonist has been made a white-cis-gay male.
Stonewall grounds me in my radicalism, but it also reminds me how privileged I am and how divided the current Queer movement is. We face systemic marginalization and oppression. Granted, this will vary based on the intersection of our identities, but in this way we are different from the hetero-cisnormative culture around us. Stonewall empowers me. Stonewall has helped me be proud of who I am. But, Stonewall has been co-opted by this movie.
The reason behind the blatant transphobia and racism in this movie is what I find particularly offensive. Lesbians, transwomen and sex workers of colour: none of these identities make as compelling of an American Dream narrative as a white cis country boy. This movie is not only contributing to the continued oppression of these groups, but it is erasing them and their role in Queer history. Ignore the fact that without the incredible courage of the people at Stonewall that night Queer history might not even exist.
One of the most troubling aspects of this predicament is that it can easily be put into the larger context of division in the Queer community today. While 2015 especially has been an incredible year for Queer rights, not all Queer folk have been benefiting equally from these strides. Transwomen of colour still face disproportionately high levels of violence—18 transwomen have been murdered in the United States so far this year.
It is the responsibility of more privileged identities in the Queer community to continue to fight. Our movement is founded in the work of transwomen, sex workers and drag queens of colour, and we cannot forget or remove them from it. Stonewall erases these voices in order to commodify this turning point in Queer history. It is appalling and it is certainly not my Stonewall.
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When Dior looked to fill a vacancy in 2012, few expected Raf Simons to be tapped for the creative director role. Even fewer expected Simons to have the sheer panache to pull off a couture collection for the French house famed for its opulent, feminine designs.
But Simons was hired, and he accomplished the latter with aplomb, in a mere two months.
Dior and I provides an unrivalled account of Simons’ inauguration as Dior creative director, stretching from when he is first introduced as John Galliano’s successor in 2012 to his widely-acclaimed first haute couture collection.
For those unfamiliar, couture collections are entirely made by the hands of fashion houses’ ateliers. They are the ones who convert designers’ ideas from concept to reality, and are toiled over for months. Couture collections may be incredibly difficult to make, but houses like Dior are rewarded for their efforts with lucrative orders for pieces from the collection from their rich clientele.
With Simons coming in as a former industrial designer, and minimalist fashion devotee at Jil Sander, the job looked to be a tough one from the start with Simons only afforded two months to complete the collection.
The documentary’s title may give some the idea that the film is some sort of vanity project on the part of Simons, but it was only with reluctance that the notoriously private Belgian native allowed cameras to roll behind closed doors. Simons is decidedly uncomfortable in front of the camera at times, with the pressure of maintaining Dior’s legacy while designing something he has never done before simmering over occasionally. The film is as much about the eccentric workers who ply their trade in the ateliers as it is about Simons. For all the cerebral scenes discussing Simons’ influences for the collection as he walks through art galleries and coastal villas, there is an insightful one to match that focuses on one of the workers’ relationship with the house. Some have been at Dior for over 40 years, while others have only been employed for a few, but they all get Simons’ unwavering respect.
The latter portion of the film is full of nervous energy as the atelier crew rushes to have things ready by the show, while Simons arranges for what was a grimy Parisian flat to resemble Versailles when flowers are in bloom. If you pay any attention to fashion you will know that the collection received rave reviews upon its debut.
Don’t watch it to arrive at a known result, watch to marvel at what humble origins sartorial opulence often arises from and to observe Simons and the atelier in their natural habitat.
Film awards have been, and probably always will be, rooted in Hollywood politics. From snubs to last-minute bidding, it seems as though the merit of individual films are often overlooked in favour of marketability.
The 2015 Oscar nominations were recently announced and have resulted in many discussions about race relations in Hollywood. Not only were the acting categories all white, many have begun to examine why certain films were absent from the Best Director categories.
Intersectionality is always important, but when examining the lack of Best Director nominations for Selma, a film portraying the Martin Luther King Selma march, intersectionality is of the utmost importance. Ava DuVernay was the first black female to be nominated for Best Director in the Golden Globes’ 77-year tenure.
Despite having a 99 percent rating on Rotten Tomatoes, higher than the critically acclaimed and widely-nominated Boyhood, the film was glaringly absent from the British Academy of Film and Television Arts, Producers Guild of America Awards, Directors Guild of America Awards, and Screen Actors Guild Awards nominations, and was snubbed in the Best Director category for the Academy Awards.
Only four women have ever been nominated in the Best Director category, while only one, Kathryn Bigelow for The Hurt Locker has won. Comparatively, only three Black men have ever been nominated for Best Director in the Academy Awards 87-year history. Had Ava DuVernay found her way into the category, she would have been the first Black female to ever have a place in the category.
In popular culture, movies and television often reinforce values commonly held in society and overlooking talented black women should remind us that sexism and racism, especially in Hollywood, are still highly prevalent. In 2014, 17 of the 250 top selling films were directed by women, and three of those were Black female directors.
In a 2012 survey, the L.A. Times found that 94 percent of Oscar voters are white, and 77 percent are male. How can Black women expect fairness when their voices are overwhelmingly absent from the voting process? While it is important to note that Selma received nominations for Best Picture and Best Original Song (“Glory” by Common and John Legend), we do a disservice by admitting that “at least we have those.” It is not a matter of charity, and it’s not enough to get crumbs; it should be about fairness.
No, Selma would not have won every award category it was nominated in, but that does not mean that we should overlook the lack of nominations. Black women have continued to prove that they are talented enough and it is time that we, and the film industry, recognized this.
Six blockbusters, 13 years, and 1031 minutes of accrued running time later, Peter Jackson has concluded his adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s original works with The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies. We bid a melancholy farewell to Bilbo, the little hobbit with a big taste for adventure, through a variety of spectacular action sequences throughout the film. Unfortunately, these action sequences do not distract from the lack of character development and powerful emotion that fans expected in the concluding chapter of a gargantuan franchise that has become dear to audiences’ hearts across the globe and through generations.
If you have yet to see the past two films in The Hobbit trilogy, Five Armies is not for you. The film picks up right where it left off in the last movie, The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug, where the dragon Smaug (Benedict Cumberbatch) has awoken from his slumber and is unleashed upon the civilians of Laketown. What follows is an epic action sequence of fire-breathing and arrow-wielding as Bard the Bowman (Luke Evans) slays Smaug, opening a window of opportunity for dwarves, elves, and men alike to siege Lonely Mountain and the treasures it holds. The dwarves, led by a greed-driven Lord Thorin (Richard Armitage), claim the mountain as their own, setting stage for an epic battle that will determine the fates of many beloved Hobbit characters, and of Middle-earth itself. But when the Orcs, warrior goblins known to be ruthless in battle, are summoned, elves, dwarves, and men must decide between uniting to fight against their common enemy, or perish alongside each other.
While much of this sounds exciting, the Achilles’ heel of Five Armies is probably its emphasis on spectacle as opposed to context. The film is a cavalcade of action scenes, sparsely dotted with sequences that shine light onto character plot lines. The character-driven drama that made The Lord of the Rings series so incredible seems lost, with these moments replaced by the brute force of swords clashing in battle. So many loud things are happening simultaneously that even our main character, Bilbo, is cast to the side. There is also an ill-advised attempt at humour in the form of Alfrid (Ryan Gage), a minor character from Laketown, whose cheesy quips and unappealing personality takes up time that could be spent creating more emotionally powerful scenes – or, really, just time spent on anything else but him.
Still, the action sequences are undoubtedly spectacular. Even if you have not seen the previous films, watching the ultimate battle of Middle-earth will send chills down your spine. Armies that were initially in opposition come together to protect each other from the Orcs. Many main characters, such as Thorin and Legolas (Orlando Bloom), also get their chances to shine as the focus shifts to one-on-one battles and more emotionally driven scenes. The film redeems itself in intermittent touches of emotion, including the forbidden romance between elf warrior Tauriel (Evangeline Lilly) and Kili (Aidan Turner), and when Thorin comes to his senses and decides to fight with his fellow dwarves.
The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies may not be groundbreaking, but is nevertheless a fitting conclusion to the prequel trilogy. Though lacking in character development and flawed in various plot lines, it is a spectacular box-office supernova that is charged and action-packed from start to finish. Despite not focusing on harvesting the emotional potential seen in the earlier series, there will be moments to laugh, moments to cry, and moments to fondly remember Bilbo’s adventures through the three films.
Perhaps it is slightly unfair as The Hobbit trilogy will always be compared to The Lord of the Rings series and, as a result, will live in its shadow. Regardless, audiences of Five Armies will become travelling companions on the final leg of Bilbo’s odyssey, and though the film is not quite a momentous masterpiece, it is a satisfying adieu to our good friend from Middle-earth.
On Oct. 7, hip-hop artist Pharrell released a new single from his latest album, G I R L, entitled “Gust of Wind”. The Daft Punk feature may be the most enticing part of this track for the majority of Pharrell fans given his prior work with the electronic duo on “Get Lucky”. One overlooked aspect of the music video, however, was the benefit of Edgar Wright’s unique directive style. Having directed cinematic successes such as The World’s End, Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, Hot Fuzz, and Shaun of the Dead, Edgar’s resume speaks for itself.
In this article, we analyze and break down two factors in Wright’s unique directive style, which features prominently in his cinematic endeavours, and in his latest project with the music video for “Gust of Wind.”
Edgar Wright uses this fairly common and overdone technique to an increasingly larger degree as the years go on. Not only adding style and general presentation to each of these works, but the addition of lens flare also serves functional purposes.
In Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz, lens flare is mostly used unintentionally. The camera picks up the occasional flare without any meaningful addition. The main exception to this is a one-off joke in Hot Fuzz in which character Sgt. Angel is blinded by a car turning on its lights at the same time that one of the underage drinkers in a pub smiles.
Scott Pilgrim vs. The World is a dramatic shift from this hesitance to use lens flare to using it as an obvious visual element. Besides a few comedic exceptions, lens flare is mainly used as anticipation for upcoming action scenes with climaxes of flares at key moments within these fights. While it can be excessive at points, the use of lens flare can add to the intended comic book-inspired cinematography and editing to create a unique viewing experience.
The World’s End features the best progression and development of lens flare out of any of Wright’s works. As the movie becomes more and more hectic with an escalation of tensions heightened, consequences increased, and beverages consumed, lens flares follow suit. As in Scott Pilgrim, the technique is mainly used in action scenes early on in the film, though later scenes in the film also use this in exposition scenes as the central plot and themes begin to come to a climax.
The Gust of Wind music video uses it to a purpose similar to Scott Pilgrim in building anticipation and climax for the sections where Daft Punk is most prevalent. This is also done at some points during the first Pharrell-focused verse as an initial hint, and later as a reminder that Daft Punk is moving around off-frame and still has influence.
While there is not nearly as much time to develop as The World’s End, there is still an element of increased lens flare as the video progresses. This development is minor considering that Daft Punk never takes a long-enough segment to justify anything more significant visually, and is mainly just as a visual climax before the end of the song.
Staging is often used interchangeably with “blocking”, which is the position of the actors on a stage. For this section, we will look at how he uses the frame and staging to add a comedic or quirky element to a scene. Rather than look at all of his preferred actor spots, this tendency analysis will look at one specific part of his directing that is rarely done by others. He has a number of examples where people off-camera will extend hands or objects into medium close-ups. This is an odd thing to point out, but it does represent using the full capabilities of cinema to add a visual or physical element to comedy.
In Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, and Scott Pilgrim, the uses of objects coming into the frame are used for comedic effect. Hot Fuzz’s example is a one-off joke that adds to the seemingly nice intent of those offering him the slice of cake; even though everyone in the scene and the audience knows that the actual context of the scene is selfish in nature. Shaun of the Dead and Scott Pilgrim use this to add a way to tell the story and advance the plot in a way that is more interesting as compared to simply having a person state someone has a phone call.
This develops in The World’s End as Edgar Wright is able to expand this simple technique to fit even more purposes by having more of his fights incorporate this. Using what he learned from Scott Pilgrim in terms of fairly generic filming of close-quarters fight scenes, he is able to develop these scenes to involve more of his conventional tendencies. This has an additional benefit in making scenes feel more claustrophobic as attacks can occur at seemingly any point during chaos, seemingly at random. While this is typically done by other directors by using quick camera cuts that constantly shift, Edgar Wright is able to convey this same sense of pace and chaos without relying on disorienting the audience.
As for the Gust of Wind music video, the use of staging in this regard is done as a purely visual element without any additional effect. It does not have nearly the same influence that the other examples have on the scene as a result, and is relatively meaningless. This also differs from the previous examples in using a shot in which you can see Pharrell in his entirety rather than the medium close-ups. This contain the vocal point on the center towards him while also adding additional stimuli relevant to the song on either side.
While music videos are typically quite restricted in what a director can do with it due to the requirement of a constant song, Edgar Wright is still able to demonstrate these two tendencies in particular to show his unique style.
All in all, he manages to create interesting visuals to complement the song, which is all you can really ask for in a music video.
Each year, the Academy Awards celebrate the best recent cinema. But there are countless films from yesteryear that also deserve a little extra recognition. Here are five excellent films that I revisited recently. Some of them actually did win Oscars. Some of them had crew members named Oscar. In either case, they all deserve some kind of award.
Best Performance by a Mug in a Leading Role:
It Happened One Night (1934)
Director: Frank Capra
This quintessential screwball comedy was a favourite of Adolf Hitler, which is odd, considering that Clark Gable plays a hard-drinking, roguish reporter who is far removed from the self-disciplined Aryan ideal. Gable is perfectly paired with Claudette Colbert, as an equally acid-tongued heiress, and the two fall in love one insult at a time. Their cross-country adventure also offers an excellent primer on 1930s slang. Believe you me, whether you’re a dame or a mug, this classic will hit you like a Mack truck!
Special Achievement in Men’s Hairstyling:
Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978)
Director: Philip Kaufman
It seems fitting that Hollywood insists on remaking a story about alien replicants over and over again. This is the best version. Donald Sutherland stars as a health inspector with a perm that looks like an angry restaurateur dumped linguini on his head. He attempts to halt an extra-terrestrial menace, which is overtaking the beautifully photographed streets of San Francisco. Jeff Goldblum co-stars as an ally of Sutherland, although no character that Goldblum has ever played seems qualified to judge who is a normal human and who is not.
Best Named Director:
Village of the Damned (1960)
Director: Wolf Rilla
The Millennial generation takes a lot of flak, but that is nothing compared to the treatment of the sinister, psychic children in this British chiller. Although the youngsters’ glowing eyes and blonde wigs may not be frightening to present-day viewers, the plot contains some startlingly contemporary elements of body horror. David Cronenberg has spent most of his career literally fleshing out these icky ideas.
Best Perfomance By an Actor Refusing to Even Attempt an English Accent:
The Guns of Navarone (1961)
Director: J. Lee Thompson
Long before George Clooney assembled his Monuments Men, Gregory Peck led a ragtag group of Allied commandos on a mission of destruction, rather than preservation. The middle-aged Peck is not entirely credible as the world’s greatest mountaineer. But Anthony Quinn is memorable as the Greek resistance fighter who both stares longingly at Peck and desires to kill him. Plus, even if you already know who won World War Two, the climactic moments are still suspenseful.
Best Supporting Corset:
Johnny Guitar (1954)
Director: Nicholas Ray
Frequently, the western genre confines women to bordellos and boarding houses. Here, however, Joan Crawford and Mercedes McCambridge are far more active and threatening than the male gunslingers, who have names like “Johnny Guitar” and “The Dancing Kid.” The dialogue is also so thick with psychosexual undertones that almost every line lands like a double entendre. This undoubtedly would have been Freud’s favourite western.
Life as we know it. It's a term used to start up sic-fi novels, generalize an undefinable aspect of human society, and shrug off a topic we'd prefer not to discuss. Life as we know it. But aside from our own, whose lives do we really know?
Disability Awareness Coordinator, Cassie Liviero, hopes to use her upcoming campaign with Student Accessibilty Services to address this question. Inspired by the television documentary series, "Life Story Project", the film campaign, entitled "Life as I know it", is set around creating an open environment for discussion, and allowing participants to express their thoughts and beliefs in a safe and welcoming space.
"It's a film and interview campaign. It involves students passing by on campus, sitting down for three to five minutes, and having genuine conversations on topics that affect us all. It comes from personal experiences… and as the narrative unfolds we see questions to do with disability, accessibility and perception," sys Liviero, relating the concept back to the principles and topics that shape SAS.
Some of the topics that will be used as discussion points include: inclusion, stereotyping, independence, values, recreation and leisure. In addition to these points, the notion of a "genuine conversation" is something that Liviero stresses during the interview. Unlike quick and easy conversations often said in passing, the campaign hopes to use this series of topics to engage participants and develop ideas full of depth and emotion.
"I found this type of approach has really become helpful, because it shows people that they can make a difference and they do count. And this project is not so much about making a difference, but we're trying to show that everybody's voice matters. And when you go this way, through experiences that everyone has had, they feel that their voice fits in," says Liviero.
In addition to working at SAS, Liviero is a fourth-year Sociology student living with a disability. And when it comes to supporting a cause that has affected her personally, she is determined to ensure that a strong and reliable message is sent across campus, and students with disabilities are able to express their feelings accurately and appropriately.
"We want to have the people who are actually experiencing disability be in the driver's seat. Instead of having someone telling us how we feel, people can say, now I have learned what you feel as individuals instead of making assumptions," she adds.
"Often times, we think that being in higher education, professors need to educate us, or parents, or someone higher than us, but really, we're our own educators. Through this campaign, people with disabilities know themselves, and really just people in general. They know themselves more than they think they do."
The film will involve active contributions from fellow students and on-campus partners. The video will be shot and edited by McMaster Multimedia students, and the hosts for each of the segments will be volunteers from CFMU. The video will be shot on Sept. 23, Oct. 3 and Oct. 10. A couch will be set up in the arts quad where students will be able to sit down and take part in discussions.
"I really feel that this event can also help anybody, not just people with disabilities. It helps anybody increase his or her awareness about themselves. And if you start increasing awareness about yourself, you can have a greater impact on people working with you. If you know more about yourself, you can have more positive interactions with others," says Liviero.
As Liviero and her team work towards building the campaign, they hope to bring discussion about disability to the forefront of the McMaster community along with a true understanding of this life as we know it.
TIna Cody / The Silhouette
2012 marked a groundbreaking year in cinema. Both Paramount and Universal Pictures celebrated their 100th anniversary while The Avengers became the third highest grossing film of all time. Other blockbusters like The Hunger Games and The Dark Knight Rises were released in 2012, making it the most profitable year in cinema history. At the same time, film producers and critics became increasingly focused on historical and politically oriented films.
Some of the year’s most acclaimed movies began with the moniker “based on a true story.” Films like Lincoln, Argo, and Zero Dark Thirty all garnered heavy praise and seem to supply the same message: that the United States is a powerful force of social justice. Perhaps 2012 should instead be recognized as the year of political cinema.
For much of history, the connection between politics and film has been both intimate and concealed. Films have often served as a tool of propaganda given their unique ability to reproduce images, movement and sound in an extremely lifelike matter.
Unlike other art forms, films possess a sense of immediacy and are capable of creating the illusion of reality. For these reasons, movies are often taken to be accurate depictions of real life. This issue becomes even more pronounced when films depict unknown cultures or places.
While serving as a source of entertainment, movies are able to arouse social consciousness by distorting historical events. This makes film both a persuasive and extremely untrustworthy medium. Political officials have long been aware of cinema’s powerful attributes, and have thus used this media forms to mobilize and indoctrinate society with different views.
During the Second World War, for example, Reich officials commissioned the film Ich Klage or “I accuse” to persuade German citizens to accept the practice of euthanasia. A related purpose was to test public opinion as to whether there was sufficient support to officially legalize the program.
Ich Klage was an evident falsification of actual Nazi policy. The Nazis murdered medical patients against their will while the film depicts a physician giving a lethal injection to his incurably ill wife.
Throughout the film, the woman pleads her husband to put an end to her misery and suffering by ending her life.
During World War II, President Roosevelt also apparently recognized the benefits of cinema as a medium of propaganda.
He encouraged members of the American film industry to insert morale-building themes that would generate a patriotic mindset. This ultimately led Frank Capra to create seven government-sponsored films that were intended to support the war effort. Other propaganda movies of this period, like Casablanca and Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo, have become so well loved that their initial role as propaganda vehicles has been almost entirely forgotten.
In some ways, the relationship between politics and cinema has become even more pronounced. For instance, North Korea and China maintain strong public control over their nation’s film industries. Within North America, however, it is often difficult to realize the implicit connection. If this year’s Academy Awards provide any indication, it appears that movies can still be effectively employed as tools of propaganda.
Lincoln, Argo, and Zero Dark Thirty all garnered critical and commercial attention last year with each film receiving an Oscar nomination for Best Picture. During a period of deep American unrest, these films showcase triumphs of the United States government and its political authorities. In order to provide this depiction, however, these films grossly distorted historical events.
Watching these films impresses the notion of America’s superiority at the expense of factual information and cultural sensitivity. These films led many people to draw erroneous conclusions regarding the U.S. government and its foreign policy.
The social power of cinema became further evidenced when Michelle Obama presented the Academy Award for Best Picture.
With an impassioned speech on film’s ability to incite an emotional response, one could not help but realize the authority of the film industry. All this being said, it is essential that moviegoers maintain a critical eye when viewing films. As a tool of propaganda, cinema can either create divides or bridge them. So often it has been used with the former goal in mind, but by remaining a critical and rational viewer, one can prevent this unfortunate outcome.
Abraham Lincoln, the Great Emancipator, has been immortalized in just about every form possible. Steven Spielberg’s Lincoln is only the latest effort to valorize Lincoln in his quest to end slavery and enfranchise African-Americans.
Glamorizing and whitewashing presidents’ terms in office is nothing new and is in fact a routine part of political makeovers. As soon as George Bush Jr. was out of office, efforts to resuscitate his image began. Former president Jimmy Carter is often thought of as a humanitarian, which ignores the fact that during his presidential term, the U.S. government backed dubious and undemocratic regimes in Iran, Zaire and the Philippines.
But as soon as I started watching Lincoln, something irked me. In an effort make him out to be a hero, Lincoln became a recipient of this same sort of political rebranding.
I do appreciate that Spielberg chose to adapt The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln, which in some regards enlightened the public of the machinations and maneuvering Lincoln partook in regularly. Although this could certainly nurture an alternative perspective on the president and his legacy, the overall tone of the film was one of support for American cultural imperialism and patriotism.
Did the film examine Lincoln’s shortcomings in office? No. Even films like Oliver Stone’s W looked at instances of failure in George Bush’s presidency. But under the direction of Spielberg, Lincoln is personified as a long-winded but gifted rhetorician, a patient and loving husband and father and an advocate for abolition.
While I commend Daniel Day Lewis’ performance, which truly seemed to possess the essence of Lincoln’s archetypical character, I was extremely disappointed that neither Spielberg nor any of the writing team decided to look into conflicting or alternative portrayals of Lincoln.
Instead, the entire film fixates on bringing the audience to the story climax, where everyone can celebrate the triumph of Lincoln’s hard work and dedication to forever altering American society.
And by the time it closes (spoiler alert) with Lincoln’s assassination, we, the audience, are so emotionally attached to this arbiter of morality, that we leave the theatre assured that Lincoln was a great president and a great man. Even more so because he is portrayed as a martyr.
His ability to pass the 13th amendment, and thus obtain freedom for all African-Americans, is a positive thing. But using his crown achievement to suggest that Lincoln was a hero and an activist for equality is misguided and manipulates the historical record.
When it came to his treatment of Native Americans, Lincoln had an atrocious record of addressing equality rights. Just prior to issuing the Emancipation Proclamation, declaring an end to slavery, he also enacted The Homestead Act, which removed thousands of indigenous people from their lands.
Lincoln also ordered the execution of 38 Santee Sioux men, simply because they refused to leave their ancestral land. This act marked the largest public execution in American history.
Lincoln does make some effort to show how the president was probably more concerned with the positive political implications than the moral implications of ending slavery. But it’s that surge of emotional attachment and pride for Lincoln and his presidency that the film actively promotes, which I believe has the stronger and more tangible affect on the audience.
So go see Lincoln, appreciate the realism of the set, costume and perhaps even some of the acting. But please realize that this film has an agenda. Just because the guy has been dead for over a century doesn’t make it any less manipulative or relevant to the political branding today.
By Keely Brown
I wouldn’t claim to be a literal connoisseur of film. I’ve always been more inclined to just casually watch a torrented movie or go out to the movies whenever a group of friends invite me. I don’t know the specific details or finer points of what makes a film high quality, I just happen to know what I like when it comes to film. And more importantly, I also know what I dislike.
I’m sure by now most people have heard that the Walt Disney Company has purchased the Star Wars franchise. I’ve been an avid Star Wars fan since I was very little. I watched the new movies as they came out and I literally obsessed over them. I, like many Star Wars fans, entertained the idea of taking part in imaginary light-saber battles with invisible foes. I had (and still have) a ridiculous collection of Star Wars lego and played a lot of different Star Wars video games. Naturally, you’d expect such a big fan of Star Wars and film in general to be excited by the concept of a new Star Wars trilogy, right? Well, not quite.
See, things have changed and I’m no longer the kid who loved everything under the banner of ‘Star Wars’. I’ve grown fonder of movies with depth and characters that you can actually believe and sympathize with. Which is why I now find the original trilogy to be more enjoyable than the most recent trilogy. Sure there’s some good stuff to be found in the newer trilogy, but I can’t help but wonder, if I were to see the new trilogy for the first time today, would I still enjoy them? Probably not to the same degree in the very least.
Part of the problem in my eyes that made the so-called ‘newer trilogies’ unsatisfactory is the fact that they were made on the premise of being made as a trilogy. In the original series, George Lucas and his team didn’t have any really huge successes under their belts. They really had no guarantee that they were going to be successful enough to even consider the possibility of a sequel. So they made each and every movie count where it needed to: making the characters and story memorable and enjoyable. The visuals were amazing, but that wasn’t what it was about. A younger George Lucas put it best: “Special Effects are just a tool, a means of telling a story. People have a tendency to confuse them as an ends themselves. A special effect without a story is a pretty boring thing.”
So, where did the concept of a new trilogy begin to fall apart? In my eyes at least, it was when they decided to commit to creating an entire trilogy before gauging how well made the first episode was. They’re already jumping to the conclusion that even if the first movie is completely terrible, they’re going to go ahead with the next two movies. And that’s precisely what bothers me about Disney already committing to a trilogy rather than just one episode. Sure, it might end up being as amazing and good as the original trilogy or perhaps even better, but what happens if it ends up being terrible? They’re literally going to plop out another two as long as it’s financially feasible.
So why commit to making three of the movies before even knowing whether it’s going to be good? Well, it seems to be a common problem in Hollywood lately. Even if movies are critically torn apart and their audiences are disappointed, their franchise will continue as long as they make money at the box office. And that’s precisely where my frustration lies with modern filmmakers, especially when they just take old ideas and rehash them. How many sequels to original movies are going to be as amazing as the original? How many sequels are going to blow the minds of movie watchers the way that the original film did? A well made stand-alone movie will, for me, almost always be more satisfying than a series of sequels that just rehash old ideas.
