(For Day 5 of NaPoWriMo, the prompt was for a poem describing how two or three different things perceive the same thing, with the example being how an old woman, a tulip, and a dog view being blessed. In keeping with this film, I imagined how those connected to a playground would view that place of fun.)

What is a playground?
Depends on who answers.

For kids, it is joy,
A chance to get higher
Than a small girl or boy
Ever could on their own,
To conquer the jungle,
To swing to the sky, or
To know they won’t crumble
When tripped by a stone.

For a parent, it’s peace,
Even for a short respite,
Like shepherds releasing
Their flock to the field.
A simple distraction
If ever they’re desperate,
They bask in inaction
And keep their eyes peeled.

And what of the no-name
Who built that location,
Who garners no fame
Yet has brought joy and peace?
He sits at a distance
In gratification
To watch their elation,
Such a simple foundation,
And knows his existence
Will only increase.
______________________

MPA rating:  PG-13 (mainly for poignant subject matter but quite tame)

I know I probably should have first watched Ikiru, Akira Kurosawa’s classic film about a government bureaucrat dealing with his own mortality, but I was on my plane to Ireland last year and had a prime chance to watch Living, the British remake with Bill Nighy in the same situation. Nighy is undoubtedly a fine actor, with memorable roles in the Pirates of the Caribbean series and About Time, so it really is surprising that he had never received an Oscar nomination before this film. But he excels in the role on which the entire film rests, as Rodney Williams, a stuffy bureaucrat in post-War Britain, solemn and dour, his workplace “rather like church,” according to his chatting coworkers. His strict routine of coming and going to work on the train each day is disturbed by a sudden cancer diagnosis, and he is forced to come to terms with the fact his life has likewise come and gone with little in the way of joy or meaning. Buoyed by the companionship of a young friend (Aimee Lou Wood), the waning pencil pusher decides on a small way he can break from his inflexible mold.

Living is a laudable prestige picture, shot and acted with a noble dignity reminiscent of yesteryear classics and boasting an elegant screenplay by acclaimed author Kazuo Ishiguro. Nighy exemplifies how complacent routine yields to personal regret, and even if he couldn’t compete with Brendan Fraser in The Whale, he certainly gives an Oscar-worthy performance. It may be easily overshadowed by the flashier Oscar bait, but Living is a subtly meaningful film that puts our daily grind into much-needed perspective.

Best line: (Williams) “I wonder if you ever stop on the way home and watch the children playing. In the street, or in the yard. And when the time comes and their mothers call them in, they’re often reluctant. They, they get a little contrary, but that’s as it should be. Far better than to be the child you occasionally see, he’s sitting by himself in the corner not taking part, not happy, not unhappy, merely waiting for his mother to call him in. I’ve become afraid that I might end up like that child. And I so very much do not wish to do so.”

Rank:  List Runner-Up

© 2024 S.G. Liput
791 Followers and Counting

(For Day 2 of NaPoWriMo, the prompt was for a platonic love poem directed toward the object of affection. Love of food is both platonic and universal, so I took it in a self-destructive direction based on this movie.)

Most might say they love a meal,
But I do not discriminate.
I love you, burgers, hot dogs, fries,
Cakes and shakes of every size,
Every snack they advertise,
Pizza boxes; hold the plate.

I never needed Mom’s reproach
To clean the plate, the bowl, the platter.
You were there to keep me full,
Flavor in a world so dull,
Spice to make it bearable,
Comfort where pain didn’t matter.

You were there for my mistakes,
Soothing me in guilt’s affliction.
People hand out blame and spite;
You just offered one more bite.
You were solace in the night.
That is love and not addiction.

You were there to catch my tears
Where empty wrappers now remain.
Every bite and every pound
Follows me and weighs me down.
Still I crave what love I’ve found.
Why is too much love such pain?
_______________________

MPAA rating:  R

As a fan of Brendan Fraser back in his Mummy days, one who frequently lamented his less-than-prestigious choice of movie roles throughout the 2010s, I was utterly delighted that he finally found awards buzz and critical love for 2022’s The Whale, which won him a Best Actor Oscar on his first nomination. Like many actors, I think Fraser just needed the right role to prove his acting chops, and Darren Aronofsky’s adaptation of a Samuel D. Hunter play proved to be it. Having now seen the movie, I can confirm how deserving Fraser’s win was, playing morbidly obese English professor Charlie to devastating effect.

Charlie is a recluse in his tiny apartment, only teaching online classes with the camera off and barely able to get up from his couch, even with help from his nurse friend Liz (Oscar-nominated Hong Chau). Racked by guilt over abandoning his family for his gay lover years ago, he struggles to maintain optimism and connect with his daughter Ellie (Sadie Sink of Stranger Things), who never hesitates to make her anger and bitterness toward him known. His past comes to light when a visiting missionary (Ty Simpkins) tries to evangelize him, much to the indignation of everyone around him and Charlie himself.

The Whale is not an especially enjoyable watch, considering the vitriol flung by Ellie and Liz and the pitiable character at its center, but it is a showcase for outstanding performances from all involved, as well as how film can make the most of a small space originally suited for the stage. Being a Christian, I was saddened by how negative the film was toward religion, yet it also found nuance and slivers of sympathy amid what everyone can agree is a tragedy. In keeping with Charlie’s self-destructive eating, a key theme seemed to be that some people don’t want to be saved, instead finding whatever meager source of redemption they can find. Despite the seamless prosthetics weighing him down, Fraser brings the necessary human touch to make the tragedy heartbreakingly effective.

Best line: (Charlie) “I need to know that I have done one right thing with my life!”

Rank:  Honorable Mention

© 2024 S.G. Liput
790 Followers and Counting

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a poem in the style of poet Kay Ryan, whose work is characterized by short lines “with a lot of rhyme and soundplay.”)

Everybody
Has regrets.
We only pray
That ours will not
Result someday
In death or debts
We cannot pay,
The kind of blot
That none forgets,
The kind that nought
Can wash away.
___________________________

MPA rating: PG-13 (for heavy subject matter and some language)

It’s hard to believe that Mass wasn’t based on some existing play but rather an original script from actor Fran Kranz, who also made his directorial debut with this small but emotionally potent drama. Set mostly in a small back room of an Episcopal church, the film is essentially one long conversation, or more of a therapy session between two middle-aged couples: Jay (Jason Isaacs) and Gail (Martha Plimpton), whose son was killed a few years before in a school shooting, and Richard (Lee Birney) and Linda (Ann Dowd), whose son was the shooter before committing suicide.

It takes time, but awkward pleasantries soon evolve into accusations, unanswerable questions, and mutual attempts at empathy. Shouldn’t Richard and Linda have seen what their son was capable of before it happened? Should Jay and Gail blame them for not raising their son differently? The film doesn’t give any definitive answers or go deep into the political attempts at a “solution,” instead seeking to bare the emotions of all and find compassion for those whose lived experience and responses to trauma can never be completely understood. And while neither couple evokes God or religion as part of their anger or recovery, the very setting in a church and its final scene imply that grace and comfort can be found by those who seek it.

I watched Mass with some detachment, admiring the award-worthy performances by all four of the main actors (shame on the Oscars for snubbing all of them) and sympathizing with each to different extents. Yet I found it interesting that my VC had a different reaction, one with more anger toward Richard and Linda for not recognizing their son’s descent into darkness before it was too late. Yet I felt such a scenario was all too realistic, since no mother or father wants to believe the worst in their child. So Kranz’s screenplay certainly manages to plumb the depths of its sensitive topic, which viewers will react to differently, yet hopefully gain an added perspective into how the victims of such tragedies extend to those left behind. Some of the story framing with a neurotic church employee didn’t seem necessary, and I’m not sure what a repeated scene of a field was supposed to represent, but Mass is still a hard-hitting Triple A film (one that’s All About the Acting) whose raw but valuable premise highlights the power of grace over finger-pointing in the universal expression of grief.

Best line: (Richard, to Jay) “You think you can attach one word to something in order to understand it? To make you feel safe? Well, I won’t say it. I don’t believe it. It’s not simple; it’s everything you cannot see.”

Rank: List Runner-Up

© 2022 S.G. Liput
767 Followers and Counting

(For Day 7 of NaPoWriMo, the prompt was a choice between two syllable-based poem forms, the shadorma or the Fib. I chose the Fib, with its syllable count based on the Fibonacci sequence of 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, and 8. Take your pick of which character the poem applies to.)

Please
Have
Mercy
On my soul.
Its owner oft sinned.
Does grace or damnation await?
________________________

MPA rating:  R (for language and stressful themes)

Clemency is a film with a clear message about the cruel nature of the prison system, yet it presents it subtly through the emotional responses of a warden (Alfre Woodard) and the convicted man she is to execute (Aldis Hodge). Woodard is the star here, hiding the psychological toll of her character’s work behind a stolid veil of professionalism while her marriage and soul suffer; the performance feels tailor-made for a Best Actress Oscar nomination, which sadly never came.

Likewise, Aldis Hodge is a compelling victim, convicted of murder and insistent on his innocence. His guilt is neither verified nor disproven definitively, but he is still defended by his lawyer (Richard Schiff) and comforted by a chaplain (Michael O’Neill). His humanity is the focus as the film condemns neither him nor the warden doing her job. Death and execution are very distressing subjects, whether it’s the electric chair of The Green Mile or the lethal injections used here, and Clemency gets its sad point across while offering little light amidst the darkness. A bit slow in pace, it’s a difficult watch elevated by nuanced acting.

Rank:  Honorable Mention

© 2021 S.G. Liput
723 Followers and Counting