Monthly Archives: April 2016

Teachers (1984)

11 Monday Apr 2016

Posted by in Movies, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

,

 

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a description poem with a seemingly abstract ending. It’s not exactly abstract, but the final lines are a bit of a twist on what comes before.)

 

Welcome to hell, but you knew that, of course.
I thought I’d warn you about joining the force.
In this job, you’ll witness both folly and filth
And other things many find bad for their health.

The hoodlums round here are a menacing bunch,
Who’ll likely have mugged your coworkers by lunch.
If one pulls a knife or a gun or an axe,
Just pay and be grateful he doesn’t charge tax.

First day on the job, I saw somebody shot,
And three cars were stolen from our parking lot,
And years before Tyson changed boxing frontiers,
Our district was famed for the biting of ears.

I’m off to warn your fellow teaching recruits.
Good thing the school managed to find substitutes.
__________________

MPAA rating: R

Few movies make me grateful that I did not attend public school like 1984’s Teachers. This dark comedy gives a comprehensive look at everything that can and does go wrong in the public school system, from exaggerated ruckus like two teachers starting a fight to surprisingly earnest true-to-life situations like a pregnant student seeking an abortion. At the heart of the film is Nick Nolte as slacker social studies teacher Alex Jurel, who floats through his job earning admiration from his students while never giving a thought to his responsibility for their futures. A lawsuit headed by a former student and crush (JoBeth Williams) forces him to take stock of his duty to his students, particularly one delinquent (Ralph Macchio) with a troubled family life and an even more troubled friend (Crispin Glover). Nolte is especially good as everyone’s favorite teacher who just needs a rekindling of his zeal for teaching, although I still find it weird watching him before his more recent transformation into a grizzled old man. The highlight of the film, though, is Richard Mulligan as a substitute teacher with greater eccentricities than usual.

Somehow I expected Teachers to be more comedic in tone, and certain parts are drolly wacky in depicting the excesses of public school life, from the apathy of teachers to the rowdiness of students. Yet most of the film’s satire is grounded in seriousness. The brief abortion section with Laura Dern avoids treating the matter flippantly and parallels the desensitizing of Alex and his peers to everything wrong at the school. In addition to the lawsuit that challenges Alex to play along with his bosses (Judd Hirsch, Lee Grant) or take a stand, several of the minor plotlines are cynically insightful in their lessons, such as how a crazy man can teach better than the sane or how lazy indifference can be hard to distinguish from death.

The message of teachers taking more responsibility for their students reminded me of similar ideals in films like Won’t Back Down and Here Comes the Boom, but though it ends on a triumphant note, the details of how to fix the problem are left rather vague. Aside from the frequent language, I also felt one climactic scene was taken too literally in order to throw in some nudity. Despite this, Teachers views its educational themes through a bleak but incisive lens that still acknowledges humor and hope.

Best line: (Alex) “There’s nothing worse than a female lawyer with a cause.”   (Lisa) “Except a male teacher without one.”

 

Rank: List-Worthy (tied with Won’t Back Down)

 

© 2016 S. G. Liput

378 Followers and Counting

 

Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid (1982)

10 Sunday Apr 2016

Posted by in Movies, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

,

 

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a “book spine” poem made up of book titles. In this case, I strung together movie titles, which are underlined, with the perfect movie for this kind of composite idea.)

 

This gun for hire, Rigby Reardon knows indeed the facts of life,
That little women seeking justice bring a touch of class and strife.
In the bedroom, on the town, and everywhere pulp fiction goes,
The cheap detective gets his man, although how only heaven knows.

One time, his dangerous liaisons, full of dark secrets & lies,
Brought a new fatal attraction, sure to tempt the other guys.
The mission stuck, but was her father missing or a saboteur?
The hours spent in sly suspicion made him fall in love with her.

The night and the city complement the risky business of a sleuth:
The malice of the usual suspects running from the awful truth,
The prestige of that awkward moment when a wrong turn stalls the chase,
The signs that stink like my left foot and help the clueless crack the case.
_________________

MPAA rating: PG (probably could be PG-13 due to innuendo)

Boasting a genius idea that seems ripe for a modern incarnation, Carl Reiner’s Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid lets Steve Martin play hard-boiled detective while interacting with extracted clips from various old movies of the 1940s. While names and key events are drawn mainly from 1949’s The Bribe, fans of classic film noir will also recognize scenes from The Killers, Double Indemnity, White Heat, and The Postman Always Rings Twice, among others. I for one am not well-versed in the black-and-white classics, and the only one that I’ve actually seen is Hitchcock’s Notorious, the scene from which I didn’t even recognize. Part of the fun, though, is playing “name that face” as stars like Cary Grant, Kirk Douglas, Charles Laughton, and Humphrey Bogart grace the screen.

Of course, this is a spoof, and while Martin’s comedic talents aren’t at their best, he’s still effortlessly amusing, as is Rachel Ward as the alluring femme fatale. Certain gags get funnier with repetition, especially when they’re fused into the old films, and my life is now fuller having witnessed Steve Martin shave his tongue.

A lot of praise is also owed to the set and costume designers, who matched everything from crowds to crown molding with what is seen in the old footage. Old film noirs have a habit of shooting scenes over a character’s shoulder which lends itself to the interactions on display, and the costumes brilliantly uphold the illusion. While those less interested in vintage movies may not get as much out of it, Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid is a cleverly mounted parody.

Best line: (Rigby) “All dames are alike: they reach down your throat so they can grab your heart, pull it out, and they throw it on the floor, and they step on it with their high heels. They spit on it, shove it in the oven, and they cook the s*** out of it. Then they slice it into little pieces, slam it on a hunk of toast, and they serve it to you. And they expect you to say, ‘Thanks, honey, it’s delicious.’”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2016 S. G. Liput

378 Followers and Counting

 

Rope (1948)

09 Saturday Apr 2016

Posted by in Movies, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, ,

 

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write something you’re afraid to say, so here’s an opinion that might be unpopular.)

 

Though my opinion may not count compared with greater critics,
Who see more cinematic worth with fancy analytics,
There’s something rather overblown that most would not dare knock,
And that’s the reputation of the great Alfred Hitchcock.

His reputation’s such that everybody knows his skill
Long before they may or may not glean from him a thrill.
He was a master filmmaker and could make showers tense,
But does he merit being called “the master of suspense?”

Perhaps we have been spoiled with more recent horror thrillers,
With darker shades of wickedness and more alarming killers,
But looking at Rebecca, Rope, Notorious, and such
Just doesn’t make my mind or heart start racing very much.

I freely will admit that Psycho is a masterwork;
Rear Window gets good at the end, though Jimmy plays a jerk;
And while The Birds does have its moments of anxiety,
The lead-up that should hold my breath gets boring, honestly.

In films like Dial M for Murder, tension’s at its best
In one distinct, iconic scene, but who recalls the rest?
So though most may cry blasphemy, I feel it must be stated
That many of “the master’s” works are tedious and dated.
No offense, but for suspense, he’s rather overrated.
_____________________

MPAA rating: PG

Having seen Alfred Hitchcock’s most successful films like Psycho and The Birds, I thought I’d check out one of his smaller and more inventive efforts. Rope is based on a play and one of the most purely translated plays, enclosed as it is in a single apartment with careful attention to its setting and structure. Decades before Birdman, Hitchcock experimented with long takes and a bare minimum of cuts, which are craftily hidden, sometimes obviously, sometimes not.

Clearly based on the infamous Leopold and Loeb murder, the plot revolves around two arrogant school chums Brandon and Phillip (John Dall and Farley Granger) who strangle a classmate with rope merely to prove their superiority and then invite the victim’s family and friends for a dinner party over the hidden body. As an intellectual experiment, Rope is intriguing and thought-provoking. As a thriller from the master of suspense, it’s rather disappointing. There is far more talking and plotting than actual tension, and the plot hinges on the revelation of how the truth will come out rather than if. One point of contention I didn’t see was rumors about the assumed homosexuality of the killers. Sure, they live together as roommates, but if there was such a subtext, it was so subtle to avoid controversy that I didn’t even recognize it.

Like the motivation for the crime, Rope’s message is more cerebral than visceral. The murderers make it clear that their “superior” ideology stemmed from their teacher Rupert Cadell, played by a serious James Stewart. At the party, Rupert confirms his elitist leanings but only in theory and only until he sees cause for grief. It’s all innocent discussion to debate who is more or less intelligent, cultured, or worthy of life, but such philosophy can be put into action by the unprincipled, like the two killers or Nazi Germany. Rupert was not involved in the murder, but Rope emphasizes that the seed of an immoral idea can be just as regrettable as the crime itself.

Best line: (Mrs. Atwater, a guest) “Do you know when I was a girl I used to read quite a bit.”   (Brandon) “We all do strange things in our childhood.”

 

Rank: Honorable Mention

 

© 2016 S. G. Liput

376 Followers and Counting

 

Cabin in the Sky (1943)

08 Friday Apr 2016

Posted by in Movies, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , ,

 

(I decided to forgo today’s NaPoWriMo prompt about flowers, because really, how many movies about flowers are there? At least one of the characters in this random choice is named Petunia.)

 

When your mind is debating on whether or not
You should go for that third piece of pie,
Or whether you’re better off tying the knot
With a sinner or saint worth a try,
You may not be able to see who is there
As they whisper advice you might take,
But angels and devils are rapt in midair,
Intent on your every mistake.

So next time you manage to fend off temptation
And choose to obey that red light,
Or when you hold in your off-color frustration
At stubbing your toe late at night,
Just know that, although you may not hear a sound,
Your good choices made someone upset,
And that someone is probably pounding the ground,
Because you just lost him a bet.
_________________

MPAA rating: might as well be G

One day not long ago, I decided to just watch this random old movie for no other reason than it was there. Directed by Vincente Minnelli, Cabin in the Sky is a notable film due to its entirely African-American cast, which was unheard-of back in 1943, and it surprised many by performing well with white audiences too, perhaps because the vices, virtues, and caricatures on display are not exclusively black.

Little Joe (Eddie “Rochester” Anderson) can’t seem to shake his gambling addiction, despite the insistence of his religious wife Petunia (excellent Ethel Waters, who reprised her role from the play from which the film was adapted). After his bad habit ends up killing him, Little Joe is confronted by demons eager to take him to hell, but his wife’s prayers earn him a temporary second chance to straighten out his life. Aside from the fact that the plot seems to have inspired a memorable Tom and Jerry cartoon (“Heavenly Puss” if I’m not mistaken), it was a rather fun dynamic watching literal versions of a shoulder angel and devil pulling the characters in different directions. Once Little Joe returns to life, he doesn’t remember or see the spirits, and watching the spiritual enemies vying for him to make right or wrong choices is like a lighthearted version of The Screwtape Letters.

Where Cabin in the Sky falls is in its status as a musical. A musical number is supposed to enhance emotions or be generally enjoyable, but the few songs here just drag the pace to an unnecessary standstill. “Happiness Is a Thing Called Joe” is the only one worth hearing and earned an Oscar nomination for Best Song, but the rest are wholly forgettable, with one wince-inducing number confirming that Eddie Anderson’s scratchy voice was not meant for singing. Duke Ellington and Louis Armstrong have small roles, but it was odd that Armstrong never even got to sing.

The music aside, Cabin in the Sky is a reasonably charming old movie with good work from its black cast, including Lena Horne as Little Joe’s worst temptation. If you’re looking for a random movie to watch, you could do worse.

Best line: (Georgia, played by Horne) “I’m just speaking my mind.”   (Petunia) “And I ain’t heard nothing yet.”

 

Rank: Honorable Mention

 

© 2016 S. G. Liput

376 Followers and Counting

 

Coraline (2009)

07 Thursday Apr 2016

Posted by in Movies, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

, ,

 

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was a tritina, which has three set words to end each line in a pattern of ABC, CAB, BCA, and a final line with all three words in it. I decided to use the form for a creepy effect.)

 

Hark to the promise of pleasure and play.
Heed all the whispers that bid you come in.
Enter and leave your old world at the door.

Rest and don’t fret at the slow-closing door.
We’re glad that you had a good reason to play.
It’s been quite a while since a human came in.

I told you, don’t worry about the way in,
Or out for that matter; I’ve hidden the door.
It’s time that we all wear a smile and play.

I’m so glad the door brought in someone to play.
___________________

MPAA rating: PG

While I enjoy various kinds of animation, stop-motion isn’t my favorite. I love Chicken Run, but I’m less dazzled by the more macabre usages of this kind of puppetry, like The Nightmare before Christmas. That being said, stop-motion does lend itself to an unnatural movement perfect for creepiness, and Coraline utilizes this uncanny quality judiciously. From the first masterful shots of needle-composed fingers sewing up a little girl’s doll, it’s clear that experts of both animation and spookiness have put their craft on display.

Based on Neil Gaiman’s novel and with a Roald Dahl sensibility, Coraline first applies its technical finesse to the real world, as Coraline Jones (Dakota Fanning) and her parents move into a ramshackle apartment building. Coraline explores the neglected gardens and meets the eccentric neighbors and ultimately becomes bored and disgruntled at her surroundings. Then she finds a mysterious door which leads to an alternate universe where everything dull and mundane in the old world is bright and colorful and fun. Her Other Mother (Teri Hatcher) and Other Father are everything she wishes her parents could be, except they have buttons for eyes, and she has second thoughts when they want to sew buttons on her eyes.

Coraline cleverly manifests how a dream can so easily segue into a nightmare. Everything is fun and innocent at first (although some cartoon nudity goes a bit far), but as soon as Coraline becomes wise to her Other Mother’s sinister plans, the wondrous quickly turns monstrous. This disquieting wonderland is a perfect outlet for the animation, and many of the stunts and deft camerawork make one wonder how the filmmakers accomplished so much fluidity within the confines of tiny detailed models.

Perhaps because Tim Burton wasn’t involved, Coraline’s dark fantasy won me over, making it probably my favorite of the creepy genre of stop-motion animation. Some of the characters are still unnecessarily weird for my taste, but the central adventure has a winning blend of awe and fright that will make children think twice about too-good-to-be-true reveries.

Best line: (Other Mother, to Coraline) “They say even the proudest spirit can be broken…with love.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2016 S. G. Liput

375 Followers and Counting

 

The Last Sin Eater (2007)

06 Wednesday Apr 2016

Posted by in Christian, Movies, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

,

 

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a poem about food. I had to stretch the topic a bit, but here it applies to a ritualistic meal.)

 

In olden days, when Death dropped by
To whisk away a willing soul,
The folk believed that sin’s control
Still clung to what was left.
And so one chosen with a sigh
Was tasked with eating bread and wine
That represented as a sign
The dead one’s every lie and theft.

How heavy was this obligation,
Living only for the dead!
The taste of wine and sin-soaked bread
Lay bitter on the tongue.
This ritual owed its foundation
To the oldest of traditions,
But the cure for superstitions
Lay in faith held by the young.
_________________

MPAA rating: PG-13

My VC has grown extremely fond of the works of Francine Rivers, a best-selling Christian author whose one hit to garner a film adaptation is The Last Sin Eater. One of the weaknesses of Christian films is that the evangelical message is often the only reason it exists, at the expense of a worthwhile story. Luckily, The Last Sin Eater, directed by Michael Landon, Jr., has a good story. Focusing on an obscure but fascinating 19th-century tradition of some Celtic immigrants of Appalachia, the film paints a compelling tale of guilt amid a rural community with a surprisingly dark secret.

Young Cadi Forbes (Liana Liberato) is overcome with guilt for the death of her sister and seeks out the village’s reclusive Sin Eater to take away her iniquity. The Sin Eater dresses in a black robe and is treated like the boogeyman of a horror movie, even though he’s merely a victim of an alienating tradition. When Cadi meets a man of God (a grown-up Henry Thomas from E.T.), she becomes dubious of the necessity of a sin eater in light of someone named Jesus. This Christian element is key to the story’s resolution, but the core mystery remains separate and interesting.

While the acting isn’t always entirely convincing, Liberato is an earnest Cadi, and Henry Thomas and Louise Fletcher add some star power to an otherwise lesser-known cast. The woodland cinematography is also charmingly picturesque and a step above other low-budget films, even if the special effects aren’t. While it may please mainly faith-based audiences, The Last Sin Eater is a quaint and positive tale of redemption which, according to my VC, is not quite as good as the book.

 

Rank: Honorable Mention

 

© 2016 S. G. Liput

373 Followers and Counting

 

Z for Zachariah (2015)

05 Tuesday Apr 2016

Posted by in Movies, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

 

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a poem inspired by an unusually named fruit or vegetable, and…I got nothing, at least as far as movies. So here’s a poem that mentions fruit.)

 

When Adam and Eve in the garden dwelt,
They had no sin to tempt their heart,
But even after the fruit was dealt,
One kind of vice had yet to start.

For jealousy to turn one green,
Another man must bear his glare,
And envy chanced to grow between
The sons of Adam, heir to heir.

As soon as two men shared the earth,
One’s jealousy did thin the herd,
And every day as more give birth,
More envy burgeons undeterred.
____________________

MPAA rating: PG-13

Post-apocalyptic stories are all the rage these days, as are films about isolation (Moon, The Martian, Room). Based loosely off a 1974 novel, Z for Zachariah combines these two trends into a slow but intriguing drama. After some unspecified nuclear disaster, Ann Burden (Margot Robbie) occupies a rare safe zone, where her family’s farm is protected by the natural valley. Into this valley comes John Loomis (Chiwetel Ejiofor), a scientist dependent till now on a radiation suit. Their relationship is respectful but restrained, since they both know that they would never be attracted if not for these dire circumstances. Despite their differences, such as their religious views, they seem to understand that a man and a woman alone will most likely go the way of Adam and Eve. However, potential bliss is hindered by the arrival of another survivor named Caleb (Chris Pine).

Z for Zachariah makes the most of its triad cast, with all three delivering excellent performances. The setting is also beyond reproach, with the briefly seen nuclear ruins outside the valley contrasting starkly with the lush greenery of Ann’s home. Where the film could easily lose viewers is in the pacing. On the one hand, the film’s leisurely pace is building up the bond between the characters and how it’s tested. On the other hand, you may be too bored to really care. I liked how the ending was a bit ambiguous, leaving room for some hope of a different outcome from the obvious. Strengthened mainly by its trio of fine actors, Z for Zachariah is a surprisingly restrained post-apocalyptic fable that illustrates how even the smallest of communities can turn “Adam and Eve” into “Cain and Abel.”

 

Rank: Honorable Mention

 

© 2016 S. G. Liput

373 Followers and Counting

 

Labor Day (2013)

04 Monday Apr 2016

Posted by in Movies, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

,

 

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to describe “the cruelest month.” While I wouldn’t go as far as cruel, I applied it to the month of a certain fateful holiday.)

 

Of all the months throughout the year,
September haunts my soul.
The summer wanes; its dying pains
Serenely take their toll.

The children mourn that school awaits
And wish that time would freeze.
It never does; so says the buzz
Of insects in the trees.

When Labor Day arrives once more
And time begins to slow,
My mind returns and softly yearns
For that time years ago—

When he was in my mother’s house
And shared his every skill
Till Labor Day was snatched away
And trembling hearts were still.

As long as we are incomplete,
September days are dim.
The luster waits to gild those dates
Until we welcome him.
___________________________

MPAA rating: PG-13

Labor Day is the most romantic movie you’ll ever see about an escaped murderer taking a mother and son hostage. What sounds like a horror movie set-up becomes heartfelt and touching instead. Frank Chambers (Josh Brolin) gives his keepers the slip and hitches a ride home with Adele (Kate Winslet) and her adolescent son Henry (Gattlin Griffith). Instead of threatening them in the basement or the like, Frank instead fixes doors and pipes, changes tires, and bakes pies, and when he ties up Adele strictly for show and then cooks for her and spoon-feeds her, it’s almost surreal. Quickly, it becomes clear that Frank is not dangerous, and Adele’s fragile need for intimacy becomes one more trouble Frank can fix. Of course, he’s a wanted man, and the police are closing in.

Labor Day excels in its warm atmosphere. The radiant summer and subtle quietude brought to mind the tone of some of Studio Ghibli’s calm films, and I could believe how a three-day weekend could have felt much longer to the characters. I did also like the thoughtful details, like hearing a snippet of a Jerry Lewis telethon that used to air every Labor Day weekend. Kate Winslet and Josh Brolin are darn near perfect and have instant chemistry together, although their relationship transitions from dubious to surreal to madly in love a bit too easily. By the end, the film could have become one of those bittersweet tearjerkers that tear me up inside (like Somewhere in Time), but it wasn’t quite involving enough to trigger the waterworks. I’m unsure why, but it was still a poignant romance/coming-of-age tale that touches the heart in all the right ways.

Best line: (Henry) “I don’t think losing my father broke my mother’s heart, but rather losing love itself.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2016 S. G. Liput

373 Followers and Counting

 

Fanboys (2009)

03 Sunday Apr 2016

Posted by in Movies, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

 

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a fan letter, and I knew just the film.)

 

Dear Mr. Lucas,
I thought I would write you a letter to say
That my miserable life was fulfilled on the day
That I first saw that brilliant creation of yours:
That glorious franchise you christened Star Wars.

I know every line, every creature and place.
I can name every extra-terrestrial face.
I love Figrin D’an, who played in Mos Eisley,
And ol’ Ponda Baba, who didn’t choose wisely,
And Porkins and Bossk and Salacious B. Crumb.
I know them all more than I know my own thumb.

In details and lore, I am masterfully versed,
And though you deny, I know Solo shot first.
I know set design secrets and last-minute edits
And every last name that goes by in the credits.
I quote every movie by heart easily;
I even like Episodes I, II, and III.

You must see that I am a passionate fan
Of the greatest of tales in the annals of man.
The Force is with me, as I know it’s with you,
So I ask only one little favor to do.
Would you cancel that order, as if I’m a threat,
That needlessly dictates how close I can get?
______________________

MPAA rating: PG-13

I’m not quite as big a Star Wars fan as the poem indicates, but I love it enough to enjoy a good comedy about it. Fanboys isn’t it. What could have been an enjoyable road movie poking fun at obsessive fan bases turned out to be a crude and unflattering dud.

When four sophomoric fans learn that one of their own will die of cancer before the release of Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace, they decide to travel to Skywalker Ranch and steal a copy of the film. Some of the jokes aimed at Star Wars are actually funny, but the rest languish in awkward silliness. Should I laugh at an Ewok humping someone’s leg? One running gag is the feud between fans of Star Wars and Star Trek, which is ramped up to ridiculous levels. (I’ve never really understood the rivalry there, since I like both franchises.) Ultimately, the best thing about Fanboys is some unexpected cameos.

Aside from much of the film just not being funny, its treatment of fans is actually rather insulting. The group of friends includes mostly immature nerds of the type who have no experience with the opposite gender. Their pathetic antics are rather desperate, and eventually fanboys are literally equated with sex-starved bums. Weren’t the filmmakers actually targeting Star Wars fans as their audience? I’m sure they didn’t mean all fans are like that, but the characterization remains. Fanboys has a decent concept but poor execution, so for a good fan-related comedy, watch Galaxy Quest instead.

Best line: (Zoe, as someone is talking to George Lucas on the phone) “I can hear his beard!”

 

Rank: Dishonorable Mention

 

© 2016 S. G. Liput

373 Followers and Counting

 

The Piano Lesson (1995)

02 Saturday Apr 2016

Posted by in Movies, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Reviews, TV, Writing

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

 

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to involve a family portrait. I went a little unorthodox and saw a movie heirloom as a different kind of portrait.)

 

Photographs fade with the passing of time.
Families usually settle for that.
But one family has a sturdier portrait:
A weathered piano where fathers have sat.

One gifted forefather made art from the wood
And carved images of his daughter and wife
And kept right on carving as long as he could,
Remembering many a long-faded life.

There that piano sits, solid as ever.
The faces hewn into its surface still stare,
And when someone plays on those ivory keys,
The faces almost seem to whisper a prayer.

Now some fail to see that piano as more
Than a heavy old relic with stale memories,
But portraits, pianos, and relics can store
Significance only their family sees.
____________________

MPAA rating: PG

The Piano Lesson is a Hallmark Hall of Fame movie adapted from the all-black Broadway play by August Wilson. Several of the actors from the play grace the screen as well, including Charles S. Dutton and Carl Gordon (who also co-starred on the ‘90s TV show Roc). Dutton plays Boy Willie, who visits his sister Berniece (Alfre Woodard) in Pittsburgh in order to sell her antique piano for land.

What The Piano Lesson has is a debate-worthy dilemma of the best kind. As I described in the poem, the piano is carved with images of their ancestors, dating back to slavery, the kind of keepsake that Berniece could never imagine parting with. Yet Boy Willie views its worth in monetary terms: if he can sell it (and the truckful of watermelons he brought along), he can return to the South and buy the very land their ancestors once worked as slaves. The piano is a gift, but is it one to be kept and admired, or used to benefit the family? Both Berniece and Boy Willie have good points, so who’s right?

The Piano Lesson is also a warm picture of African-Americans in the 1930s. At first glance, the politically correct might disapprove of the poor dialect and grammar spoken, names like Boy Willie or Wining Boy, or the sight of black people with watermelons. Yet August Wilson himself was black and included such elements for a reason. After all, Boy Willie is showing initiative and business savvy by selling the watermelons and seeks to keep on progressing away from slavery. Religion, superstition, and music are also elemental to the story, with an a cappella rendition of “Berta, Berta” being a highlight.

All of the actors give great performances, but the story itself doesn’t quite know how to resolve its provocative argument. The culmination of the dispute takes a supernatural turn that is not well visualized and ends up just confusing. Even so, I’m glad the playwright sided with my opinion on how the piano ought to be used. The Piano Lesson might have ended better, but it’s a thought-provoking portrait of African-American heritage.

 

Rank: Honorable Mention

 

© 2016 S. G. Liput

372 Followers and Counting