Film Fright

Watoosa has just posted a write-up about scary scenes from books, and she has twisted my arm to do the same for films. I'm pretty malleable, so here goes.

In its early scenes, F. W. Murnau's silent film, Nosferatu, suffers from having been made in the days of slow film speed. The movements of the characters and vehicles look very choppy and (as a result) comical. The effect enhances comedies, and when I first watched this film I began to think that it would undercut the horror. But when Max Schreck makes his appearance as Count Orlok the vampire, the laughter stops. He's truly disturbing. From that point on, the technological limitations of cinema actually make Nosferatu even more unnatural and frightening.

The rumor/urban legend about Nosferatu is that Schreck really was a vampire. This legend is sent up by Shadow of the Vampire, which I think is one of the great combinations of horror and comedy. John Malkovich plays Murnau as an artist obsessed with his craft who passes off the obviously vampiric Schreck as simply a "character actor." Willem Defoe is wonderfully over-the-top as Schreck.

Another great horror/comedy combo is Simon Pegg's Shaun of the Dead. It's a brilliant and hilarious send-up of the zombie genre, but it's as much a celebration of those films as a spoof (the same is true of Pegg's even more hilarious Hot Fuzz). The scene in which Pegg and his best mate are throwing vinyl records at a zombie and then begin arguing over which ones are worth throwing and which worth keeping is a scream.

I know M. Night Shyamalan has turned out to be little more than a two-bit hack, but darned if I didn't have a fantastic time watching Signs. I had enjoyed The Sixth Sense well enough on video, and Unbreakable was interesting, if a bit slow, but I was a bit apprehensive about Signs because I didn't think M. Night would be able to show the aliens without being campy. Still, the previews lured us in, and it was one of the best "rollercoaster" experiences I've ever had in a movie theater. Everyone was shrieking and laughing and jumping out of their seats. The scene where Gibson is debating with himself about whether or not to look in the pantry where an alien has been trapped is masterfully done. The ending is hokey, but the ride is such a thrill that I don't care.

One of the best movies I've seen in the past year--period--is Pan's Labirynth. It's an odd mix of a gritty look at the brutality of life in Spain under Franco combined with an Alice-in-Wonderland fantasy (where said wonderland is a bizarre and sometimes terrifying nightmare world). After several months, I'm still trying to make sense of it, but the imagery is amazing. And if you can watch the scene that features this thing without soiling yourself in terror, you should count yourself lucky.

Finally, I think perhaps the scariest movie I've ever seen is the original Night of the Living Dead. This film isn't exactly "scary" as much as it is extremely creepy, so much so that I woke up in the middle of the night after having just seen it and experienced a residual sense of dread (and I never have nightmares from movies). There's just something disturbing about zombies--almost human, but not quite, and chilling in their utter relentlessness. This movie's low budget somehow gives the whole thing a greater sense of realism. It's easier to forget you're watching a movie. None of the actors are recognizable, and the music is just plain eerie (lots of bizarre pedal tones on an organ, as I recall). One great thing about it is that one of the protagonists is actually smart. He assumes leadership, keeps his cool, and makes wise decisions while everyone else goes straight into "disaster-flick irrationality mode."

Worlds Collide

This week I traveled to Waco, Texas to attend a conference at Baylor. I hadn't seen the campus since 2002, and approximately 50% of it has completely changed. It was almost eerie.

The conference was devoted to friendship, which was appropriate since much of my motivation for going was to visit some good friends that I hadn't seen in quite a while. Down in Waco, I stayed with Jones, who was my roommate for both years I was in school down there, and had dinner with Schobert, who was one of the friends I made from the seminary there. The conference attendees included lots of Baylor people, naturally, but also a lot of people from SLU.

On Friday, I drove up to Dallas to see my sister, Karen, and my brother-in-law, Sean. Sean went with me to dinner that night with a handful of my friends who live in the DFW area. There were six of them (not including yours truly), representing four different social circles (and one spouse whom I was meeting for the first time). Normally, I find myself a bit ill-at-ease when my worlds collide like that, and this was the biggest world collision I'd experienced since my wedding. But we all had a great time.

The whole experience wiped me out--I was ready to drop by the time I got back to Portland last night--but it reminded me how blessed I am to count these people (and others) among my friends. I certainly don't deserve them, and I've failed my friends more than I like to admit, but I do treasure each one. On this topic, Aristotle was absolutely right: friendship is an essential part of a choiceworthy, flourishing life.

Only in Japan

While living in California, it struck me how different regions produce their own particular kind of quirkiness and outright craziness. There's just something different about the crazy you find in California compared to what you get, say, down South. The former has a hippie quality that distinguishes it from the Southern Gothic kind you get in the Bible Belt.

Of course, things get even weirder once you go overseas. When in Indonesia, I witnessed the most bizarre parade in a Jakarta theme park. At one point, there were trumpet playing monkey/human hybrids sporting clown wigs and Elizabethan-era puffy trousers. It was like Mardi Gras on Planet of the Apes.

Then there's Japan. The Land of the Rising Sun has its special kind of weirdness, and the Japanese love to express it via technology and design. Hence, this slide show from today's New York Times. Alarmed by a rising crime rate (that is still enviably low by many standards), one clothing designer has created outfits that can be converted into "urban camouflage."

Got the feeling you're being trailed by some miscreant who is eying your handbag or wallet? Quick! Round a corner, jump into your vending machine disguise, and pray to Jebus that he doesn't feel like buying himself a cold beverage!

Before you rush out to buy your own, however, note the quotation on slide 6: "Ms. Tsukioka said her disguises were experimental and could even be a bit impractical at times, 'especially when your hands are shaking.'"

Watoosa pointed out that these disguises could just as easily be used by the criminal element itself. Naturally, someone will be tempted to get them outlawed for that very reason, but he should remember that when crazy urban camouflage outfits are outlawed, only outlaws will have crazy urban camouflage outfits!

The Best Thing I've Read Today

How you--yes, you!--can win a Nobel Peace Prize. "The important thing to remember is that peace doesn't have much to do with it."

It's funny, because it's true.

Click here.

Faux Europe

As Watoosa has reported, we spent last weekend in Quebec City. It was a fantastic trip. I'd been to Canada before, and loved it, but Quebec is something altogether different. It really feels like you've driven to Europe. The Old City has narrow streets that twist around and split off in every direction, it is still surrounded by an imposing wall, everything is in French (and French alone, unlike the rest of Canada), and there was even the occasional example of Quebec separatist graffiti. It was so easy to forget that we were just a couple hours' drive from the U. S. A.

The city itself is beautiful. It overlooks the St. Lawrence river from its position atop a large cliff. In the distance we could see rolling hills covered with colored autumn leaves. Many of the buildings are quite old, and their architecture embodies the influence of French culture.

We peeked into beautiful churches, toured the imposing Citadel and the magnificent Chateau Frontenac, walked along the old fortifications, and generally just wandered around soaking the whole place in. It was great. If you're looking for an imitation-brand version of France, without the hassle of intercontinental travel, Quebec should be at the top of your list.

In-class Embarassment, part II

Last April I wrote about my worst nightmare coming true. I'm happy to report that I have doubled my vigilance on that front, and there have been no more incidents of that kind.

So the good news is that my worst nightmare has yet to come true again, but the bad news is that something even worse than that occurred today. In my Modern Philosophy class, we were discussing sense perception. I had decided to use the whiteboard to illustrate what's going on when we have a visual perception of an object.

Now, my drawing skills are what prompted the coining of the term "ham-fisted." It's not unusual to hear snickering from my students as they watch me scribbling stick figure persons in front of them, and today was no exception. Then, one of my students mentioned that there are scientific devices that allow us to monitor brain activity associated with perception. So I decided to draw such a device pointed at the stick person.

No sooner had I finished this masterpiece than I realized the device looked remarkably like a giant man's naughty part. The snickering was replaced by what I took to be shocked silence and looks of disbelief.

"Uh..." I said.

"This looks a little...offensive. Let's erase it and just imagine a scientific device that can monitor brain activity, shall we?"

There were no objections.