Groundbreaking Film at Cinematheque

I have been a Bill Cosby fan from childhood and can date my affection to his first appearance on network TV. On the Tonight Show in 1963, he performed, not the Noah skit which helped make him famous, but a routine about Revolutionary War soldiers painstakingly reloading their muskets while the enemy was shooting at them. I thought he was funny and was startled, frankly, to see a black comic. And I remembered his name, partly because “Bill Cosby” sounded strange when you were accustomed to hearing “Bing Crosby.” Ever afterward, I tried to catch him whenever he was on TV, frequently performing “Noah” and all its permutations, and bought and memorized all of his record albums.

So, when the series “I Spy” began in 1965, I watched devotedly. I used to discuss the show every Wednesday with the guy who sat in front of me in my Latin class (white, like me and all my classmates). On one episode, Bill Cosby’s character fell in love. This was a notable departure, because we weren’t even used to seeing African Americans much on TV, let alone in romantic relationships. I remember my “I Spy” buddy saying, “My dad didn’t like that episode. He doesn’t like seeing them kiss.” Lots of white audience members were squeamish about seeing African Americans get physical, even in network TV’s tame context.

Ivan Dixon and Abbey Lincoln

Which brings us to one of the Cinematheque offerings this weekend. Nothing But a Man was breaking new ground in when it came out 1964. Abbey Lincoln and Ivan Dixon play a black couple trying to overcome their difference in class (she’s educated; he’s not), as well as the racism of the time.  Few movies, even now, explore normal, challenging relationships between African-Americans. Made by white filmmakers, it was the first dramatic film intended for integrated audiences that used a black cast.

An unusual opportunity, on Friday, 2/8, at 9:40 pm, or Saturday, 2/9, at 7:20 pm. When else can you see this film on the big screen? Never.

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A Little MLK Fix

I’m going to cheat today and crib from Dr. King, as a suitable way to begin Black History Month. This passage from his Christmas Sermon (as it’s known), delivered in 1967 at Ebenezer Baptist Church, was included in a sermon last night at my church.  Read King’s whole sermon here when you get a chance. In the meantime, enjoy the excerpt below.

King begins this section by offering different definitions of love. There’s romantic, or sexual love, which he calls “some of the most beautiful love in all the world.”  Then there’s philia, or love among friends, or among brothers and sisters. This kind usually comes easily, because you usually also like the person you love in this way. What we ought to strive for, King says, is agape. This is the love King and the Civil Rights Movement employed to change the hearts of the people with dogs and fire hoses. And also the hearts of complacent Northerners. I love his expression “redemptive good will.”

Then the Greek language has another word for love, and that is the word “agape.” Agape is more than romantic love, it is more than friendship. Agape is understanding, creative, redemptive good will toward all men. Agape is an overflowing love which seeks nothing in return. Theologians would say that it is the love of God operating in the human heart. When you rise to love on this level, you love all men not because you like them, not because their ways appeal to you, but you love them because God loves them. This is what Jesus meant when he said, “Love your enemies.” And I’m happy that he didn’t say, “Like your enemies,” because there are some people that I find it pretty difficult to like. Liking is an affectionate emotion, and I can’t like anybody who would bomb my home. I can’t like anybody who would exploit me. I can’t like anybody who would trample over me with injustices. I can’t like them. I can’t like anybody who threatens to kill me day in and day out. But Jesus reminds us that love is greater than liking. Love is understanding, creative, redemptive good will toward all men. And I think this is where we are, as a people, in our struggle for racial justice. We can’t ever give up. We must work passionately and unrelentingly for first-class citizenship. We must never let up in our determination to remove every vestige of segregation and discrimination from our nation, but we shall not in the process relinquish our privilege to love.

I’ve seen too much hate to want to hate, myself, and I’ve seen hate on the faces of too many sheriffs, too many white citizens’ councilors, and too many Klansmen of the South to want to hate, myself; and every time I see it, I say to myself, hate is too great a burden to bear. Somehow we must be able to stand up before our most bitter opponents and say: “We shall match your capacity to inflict suffering by our capacity to endure suffering. We will meet your physical force with soul force. Do to us what you will and we will still love you. We cannot in all good conscience obey your unjust laws and abide by the unjust system, because non-cooperation with evil is as much a moral obligation as is cooperation with good, and so throw us in jail and we will still love you. Bomb our homes and threaten our children, and, as difficult as it is, we will still love you. Send your hooded perpetrators of violence into our communities at the midnight hour and drag us out on some wayside road and leave us half-dead as you beat us, and we will still love you. Send your propaganda agents around the country, and make it appear that we are not fit, culturally and otherwise, for integration, and we’ll still love you. But be assured that we’ll wear you down by our capacity to suffer, and one day we will win our freedom. We will not only win freedom for ourselves; we will so appeal to your heart and conscience that we will win you in the process, and our victory will be a double victory.

I’m always reminded, when going back to the source, that Dr. King’s non-violence was not passivity. It wasn’t doing nothing. It was employing an active force of love. King believed, on principle, that he had to love the demons who were threatening his children, for example, and that love could change those demons. Love is redemptive. It takes a long time, but in the long, long view, it works.

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Scary Cinematheque Movies

Sean Penn

My blog neglected the Cinematheque movies last week. I didn’t feel compelled to write about them, but last night I overcame some trepidations and saw and enjoyed This Must Be the Place, a 2001 film directed by Paolo Sorrentino, with a whacked out performance by Sean Penn. He’s an aging Ozzy Osbourne type, complete with teased black hair, pale makeup, ruby lips, and black eyeliner; he speaks in a spacey, high voice, in gnomic phrases. It’s an art film, to be sure, with a dreamlike plot that people stood around trying to figure out afterwards, an effort John and I continued later that night. The movie’s probably coming back to the Cinematheque, and I recommend it, if you don’t mind a certain degree of incoherence. Here’s another tip–the article about This Must Be the Place in Sight and Sound, April, 2012, is very helpful.

This movie affirmed two of my opinions. 1) Sean Penn is great. 2) I do not care for Frances McDormand.

On to this week’s offerings. I’ve never seen Solaris (Thursday at 7:00, Friday at 9:00), which John is very high on. Its director, the Russian Andrei Tarkovsky, is known for dense, philosophical films. He was Ingmar Bergman’s favorite director. Tarkovsky scares me a little, but I may screw up my courage for this one.

Zorn’s Lemma (Friday at 7:30), a 1970 experimental film by Hollis Frampton, is also a little scary. What is a Zorn’s lemma, you ask? Well, suppose a partially ordered set P has the property that every chain (i.e. totally ordered subset) has an upper bound in P. Then the set P contains at least one maximal element.

A lemma, it turns out, is a mathematical statement that serves as a stepping stone to further statements. Zorn was a mathematician. Maybe you already knew these facts. If you didn’t, like me, you might be intimidated, or you might think that this weekend at the Cinematheque is the only chance you’ll ever have to see this movie.

The noir option this week, part of the current film noir series, seems relatively accessible and appealing. Odds Against Tomorrow was made in 1959, directed by Robert Wise (director of The Sound of Music), and stars Harry Belafonte and Robert Ryan. I’m a fan of both actors. It shows Saturday at 5:15 and Sunday at 8:50. It’s billed as a thriller and is reputedly “hard-edged,” but it seems less scary than those other movies.

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The Bride Wore Black

 

Francois Truffaut

I’m looking forward to The Bride Wore Black this weekend at the Cinematheque, not because I’ve seen it before but because I haven’t. I consider myself a fan of the director Francois Truffaut, but this 1968 thriller represents a gap in my viewing repertoire. It stars Jeanne Moreau and features music by Bernard Herrmann, so you can hardly go wrong. Screens tonight, Thursday, at 9:00 pm, and Friday at 7:30.

John is pushing “Tabu,” a 2012 top-ten choice of  many critics. It takes off from F. W. Murnau’s 1931 silent film Tabu. The New York Film Festival  touted it as a “gloriously cinephilic fever dream.” Take that as encouragement or warning.

The Cleveland Museum pf Art offers a bunch of appealing music documentaries this weekend. The Zen of Bennett shows twice on Friday, at 5:30 and 7:15. I’ve always loved Tony Bennett. This film shows him recording a few of his famous duets, with Amy Winehouse, Lady Gaga, and others. Then on Sunday comes Orchestra of Exiles, which chronicles the origins of the Israeli Philharmonic. Violinist Branislaw Huberman helped rescue Jewish musicians from Europe to found the orchestra.

Finally, the Museum film program recognizes Martin Luther King, Jr., on Monday at 1:00 pm by showing Louder Than a Bomb, in which Chicago high-school kids compete in a poetry slam. It won Best Film at the Cleveland International Film Festival in 2010. It sounds exciting and inspiring.

So many movies (books, lectures, tv shows, etc.). So little time.

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Shopping with George H. W. Bush

You remember when the first President Bush seemed flummoxed by the scanner at the grocery-store checkout? You can Google “Bush scanner” and read all about it. (Turns out it’s an urban legend, but it made a good story at the time.) Shopping with my husband reminds me of this purported incident. He is stuck, shopping-wise, in about 1962, when his mother used to take him to the 30th Street Plaza in Canton, Ohio. Add his anachronistic attitudes to his personality quirks, especially a terminal indecisiveness, and you have yourself an interesting shopping trip.

“That’s a pretty sweater.”

John spends about 97% of his waking life in movie theaters. This leaves little time for shopping. Hence, he is always amazed by the bounty. In the grocery store, he says, “Look at all the olives! Why don’t you ever buy olives?’ Then we walk down another aisle. “Look! They have Oreos with pink stuffing! Why don’t you ever buy those?” In every aisle, John will find A. something to marvel at, and, B. something to reproach me for.

His childlike wonder would be endearing, except that he’s in his seventh decade of life.

Same thing at the mall. In the department store, he says, “So many clothes. Look at how many clothes they have.” This remark has infinite permutations. “So many nice shirts. I like these shirts.” Then he’ll finger a white shirt with dark stripes and tell me how much he likes it. I believe that he likes this particular shirt, because he owns about ten white shirts with dark stripes. If I point this out, he’ll say, yes, but the stripes aren’t this shade. He’s distinguishing, for example, these pewter gray stripes from those gun-metal gray stripes at home.

John owns over sixty shirts. I just counted them. Today at Richmond Mall he bought three more. How many shirts do other men have? I don’t know. I’ve never been married before. My dad had hardly any shirts, and I had no brothers. John’s supply seems excessive.

Same  with sweaters. At Macy’s he’ll say, “That’s a pretty sweater.” I don’t buy him sweaters any more because he has nearly as many sweaters as shirts. He has to get rid of some before I will buy him any more. When I tell him this, he always says, “I could get rid of some sweaters.” He says this to torment me.

So, today he spent hours at the mall picking out a couple of shirts and sweaters. They’re on sale, of course, in January. “Everything’s so cheap!” he exclaims. “They should delay Christmas for about a month to take advantage of these sales!”

Once we have made a purchase, John worries about walking into another store carrying his bag. What will the Macy’s people say about his bringing a Penney’s bag into the store? I try for the umpteenth time to explain the meaning of “mall” to him. Does he imagine that the merchants expect him to trek to his car every time he buys something, a la the 30th Street Plaza, 1962? What would be the point of all these stores gathered under one roof, I ask, if you have to leave to stow your packages all the time?

He seems not to be listening, and on our next visit, about twelve months hence, he’ll exhibit the same awe, admiration, and questions. Are other men like this? I really want to know.

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His Girl on Friday

Cary and Roz

Howard Hawks’s His Girl Friday (1940) is not to be missed. It stars Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell, and it’s funny. How do they talk so fast? See it at the Cinematheque Friday at 7:30 pm.

On Saturday and Sunday, the Cinematheque brings back Federico Fellini’s classic 8 1/2, celebrating its 50th anniversary. When I was babysitting back in high school, I would catch parts of this movie late at night on TV and never knew what was going on. I did like the looks of Marcello Mastroianni, however. Another must-see, especially if you’ve never seen it.

I’m intrigued by the documentary (again), this time Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel. That’s Diana Vreeland, the fashion maven and feminist pioneer,  of Harper’s Bazaar and Vogue. This film, shown Saturday at 7:30 and Sunday at 6:30, was made by Ms. Vreeland’s granddaughter-in-law, Lisa Immordino Vreeland, who never met her.

In an embarrassment of riches, the Cleveland Museum of Art offers Tales of the Night, an animated film by Michel Ocelot, who directed the lovely Kirikou and the Sorceress. This movie takes place in a theater, where two children imagine fairy tales and “star” in the films their imaginations create. It sounds good, and it’s on Friday at 7:00 and Sunday at 1:30.

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Films, Belatedly

Rita as Gilda

This weekend, after a holiday hiatus, is so chockful of good programs at the Cleveland Museum of Art and the Cleveland Institute of Art Cinematheque, I’ll hardly be able to see all I want to see and am going to recommend a bunch to you. You already may have missed a good one: Gregory Crewdson: Brief Encounters, a remarkable documentary shown at the new Museum of Contemporary Art last night, the first movie ever shown there. See it somewhere else if you can.

It’s a Beatles weekend at the art museum. Scott Freiman is in town to deliver his obsessive, fascinating, enlightening lecture/music/video/ presentations on the Fab Four. Tonight (Friday) at 6:30 he’s “Deconstructing the Early Beatles”—tracing their early history and first singles. Saturday afternoon (1:30), he concentrates on one of my favorite albums, “Revolver,” and on Sunday (also 1:30), he takes a “Trip through Strawberry Fields,” with an in-depth look at that song and also “A Day in the Life.” Last year, I saw Freiman’s program on Sgt. Pepper and was fascinated and amazed. See ticket information here.

The Cinematheque offers more music with Searching for Sugar Man, a crazily intriguing account of an American ‘70s folk/rock singer named Rodriguez who abruptly disappeared from view and was thought dead. In South Africa, however, his music has become anthemic. Some investigators decide to hunt him down, and the result is amazing and inspiring. This is a must-see movie, showing on Saturday at 9:40 and Sunday at 6:30. Don’t read too much about it before you see it!

Then there’s the classic Gilda, with the  iconic Rita Hayworth. This begins “Noir Town,” a series of films noirs at the Cinematheque. I’ve never seen this classic and hope to make it on Saturday at 5:15 or Sunday at 8:15. See her put the blame on Mame.

Also, tonight you have another chance to see The Well-Digger’s Daughter at 9:40 pm, which I didn’t recommend the last time John showed it. Those who saw it, however, loved it, and prevailed upon John to bring it back. It shows again on Sunday at 7:25.

Happy viewing. And New Year!

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BPD Causes, or, My First Use of the Word “Hypochondriasis”

A friend recently sent me an article called “Emotional Hypochondriasis, Hyperbole, and the Borderline Patient” about the etiology (causes) and symptoms of borderline personality disorder, especially relating to hypochondria. Despite their sometimes befuddling jargon, the authors clearly expressed empathy for patients, their families and doctors, and said some wise things about the syndrome. I differ, however, on the issue of causes.

This article cites three (only three) previous theories about causation, all of which particularly cite mothers. This article purports to take a contrasting view, but, in the end, also blames parents. The authors, Mary C. Zanarini, ED.D., and R. Frankenburg, M.D., write, “We also believe that such pathology develops in response to serious, chronic maladaptive behaviors on the part of immature and emotionally incompetent, but not necessarily deliberately malevolent caregivers.” Okay, so the parents aren’t horrible on purpose, but they’re still horrible.

As I’ve said in my book and elsewhere on this blog, I resist the notion that BPD is caused by mothers. I should also say that I have no professional expertise and have done no original research. I’m a well-read layperson with a fair share of real-world experience with people suffering from the disorder.

Scholars who blame bad parenting (and nearly always target mothers rather than fathers) never explain the evidence that many sufferers, maybe as many as 60%, had normal childhoods, or, at least, non-abusive ones. In my book Missing, I recount the story of Dr. Robert O. Friedel, author of Borderline Personality Disorder Demystified: An Essential Guide for Understanding and Living with BPD, who writes movingly about his sister, Denise. Denise had emotional difficulties literally from birth; she cried more than her siblings and was difficult to soothe. In childhood, she would attack her sisters and brothers in violent rages and break their belongings.

Friedel himself absolves his mother of any responsibility. He writes,

“One of my most vivid memories of my mother was the way her face would light up whenever she saw one of the family. It made me feel good to my core to be caught in the radiance of her smile and the warmth of her embrace. I would watch her bestow the same love on every member of our family . . There was never any doubt: she loved us all deeply and unequivocally.”

Friedel’s mother was a warm presence who suffered with and for her daughter and did everything she could to help her.

In my life, the people I’ve known with the disorder had widely various sorts of parents. Maybe some were abusive. More often, though, I observe the mismatch problem that Dr. Marsha Linehan has proposed. She suggests that borderlines have some biological propensity toward heightened and labile emotions. If their parents tend toward emotional restraint, even within normal limits, this mismatch may trigger the disease. I find this explanation not only more generous to parents but also more congruent with what I see around me.

The blaming of parents harkens to obsolete views of schizophrenia and autism. Remember the bad old days when these conditions were the mother’s fault? As science has discovered more complex interactions between genetics and environment, the onus on parents has been lightened. I predict that will happen in relation to BPD as well.

One other knotty problem remains. I realize I’m on treacherous ground, but I’ll ask the question anyway. What evidence and testimony are substantiating the claims of abuse? I hate questioning anyone’s assertions about an abusive childhood. But any of us who have dealt with people with BPD know that their version of past events often differs from ours. A day after a conversation with my mom, she would confidently accuse me of having said outrageously offensive things: that I didn’t care about her, didn’t have to listen to anything she said, and felt I had a right to do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted.

Even if I believed those things, I would have the sense not to say them to my mother. I never said them, but my mother would insist, almost hysterically, that I had. So, I wonder, who’s checking the stories of abuse? People suffering from BPD often claim to feel, as the Zanarini and Frankenburg article says, “the worst pain anyone has felt since the history of the world began.”  They feel, recently, that their boss or their spouse or their doctor has abused them in some way. They aren’t lying. They feel as though these things are true. But no objective observer would see them as true.

So, I’d assert that people with BPD need to be affirmed and validated in their bitter and horrific feelings, because denying them is both cruel and non-productive. But accepting and reporting their childhood accounts of abuse as scientific fact, without any confirming evidence, is irresponsible.

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My Gun Control Letter

Bushmaster .223-caliber rifle

I wrote this letter today and am sending it to my two Senators, Sherrod Brown and Rob Portman, as well as President Obama. Their addresses follow the letter below. If you’re so moved, write or email your own Senators and Representatives, and, please, if you agree with me, feel free to copy or crib from my letter. The sources are linked in the text. Click on them for more information. Comments are, as always, welcome; respectful and polite responses are preferred.

Dear —-:

On December 15, 2012, New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof wrote, “Children ages 5 to 14 in American are 13 times as likely to be murdered with guns as children in other industrialized countries.”  He described how safety-conscious America has become regarding bicycles, drivers training, seat belts, and car seats–legal measures we neglect to take in regard to guns.

In light of the shootings in Connecticut, I concur with Nicholas Kristof, New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg, and many others, that our nation needs to tighten gun restrictions. American citizens will retain the right to own guns, but sensible background checks and limits on multiple gun purchases and high-capacity magazines must be considered, as well as re-instatement of the Federal Assault Weapons Ban, which expired in 2004.

The Bushmaster rifle used at Sandy Hook Elementary School left dozens of casings on the classroom floors, and killed 26 people in a matter of minutes, inflicting multiple devastating wounds. It’s a modification of a rifle used by the military and by police. The same rifle was used in sniper attacks in Washington, D.C., in 2002. Why would ordinary citizens need such a gun?

Kristof’s column explained the progress made in Australia over the last two decades. After a horrendous mass shooting in 1996, the nation enacted laws banning certain rapid-fire guns, eventually reducing gun ownership by about one-fifth. Australians still own guns, but in the intervening years, Australia’s gun-related murders and suicides have dropped by 40 and 50 percent, respectively. Since changing the laws, Australia has had no mass shootings.

According to the Children’s Defense Fund, nearly 3000 American children die every year from guns in accidents, suicides, and homicides. That’s about 8 children and teens every day. Americans should be able to come together in respectful discussions about reasonable, fair restrictions that protect everyone, especially children. In a CNN poll, about 60 percent of Americans support bans on the sale of automatic weapons and high-capacity magazines.

We will never be able to stop all gun violence, but as President Obama said at Newtown, Connecticut’s Sunday prayer vigil, surely we can do better. Please take action as soon as possible.

 

 

Brown, Sherrod – (D – OH) Class I
713 HART SENATE OFFICE BUILDING WASHINGTON DC 20510
(202) 224-2315
Web Form: www.brown.senate.gov/contact/
Portman, Rob – (R – OH) Class III
338 RUSSELL SENATE OFFICE BUILDING WASHINGTON DC 20510
(202) 224-3353
Web Form: www.portman.senate.gov/public/index.cfm/contact?p=contact…

The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20500

http://www.whitehouse.gov/contact/submit-questions-and-comments

 

 

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A Spike Lee Joint

Up to now, I’ve been shamefully neglecting the movies at the Cleveland Museum of Art, which are often very interesting and unusual. This week gives me an opportunity to remedy that oversight, because the Cinematheque offerings are underwhelming. Or maybe I should complain that they’re overwhelming.

Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale (Thursday and Saturday), a Finnish Christmas horror film, looks outrageous. Cult films or cult films in-the-making are usually not my cup of tea. I recommend the trailer, however. Compliance (Thursday and Friday) tells the story of a young Ohio woman who was strip-searched and gang-raped by her boss and fellow employees, while a cop watched and gave directions. As I scroll down the page of reviews at Rotten Tomatoes, I see lots of positive reviews, generally posted by men. I can pretty well predict I would not find this movie entertaining. If it’s trying to teach me that people are overly susceptible to authority, I already know that.

Finally, Little White Lies, on Friday and Saturday, features appealing actors–Marion Cotillard, Francois Cluzet, and Jean Dujardin–but looks predictable and not very interesting.

Red Hook Summer

That leaves us with Wednesday at 6:45 pm at the Cleveland Museum of Art. I’m not sure if you or I will like Spike Lee’s Red Hook Summer. About half of the critics and viewers posting at Rotten Tomatoes didn’t. “Aimless,” “static,” and “unpolished” are a few adjectives appearing in reviews there. On the other hand, half of them liked it. It looks to be a small, personal movie, and therefore of possible interest.

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