In thinking about world religions, one is forced to recognize the tensions inherent in confessing a particularistic faith in the marketplace of ideas. This tension is especially true for many in western evangelicalism, and the current work—edited by Sung Wook Chung—is an attempt to grapple with the uniqueness of Christ in a pluralistic milieu. Since the thesis of this work is to illustrate Christ’s uniqueness in relation to world religions (x-xi), the essays that most illustrate this thesis will be reviewed.
Elias Dantas offers the initial essay entitled “The Incarnation of Christ and its Implications to the Ministry and Mission of the Church” where the topic under consideration concerns the incarnation and its implications for our modern world. Dantas rightly stresses the importance of this doctrine and is correct to place so much emphasis upon the virgin birth: it is, after all, a part of the historic Christian faith. He then goes on to offer seven assessments, each one indeed dire and problematic—though some more than others. For example, he asserts that the denial of the virgin birth leads to the denial of all miracles and into liberalism (4), and this does not follow. One could affirm the mythic nature of Christ’s birth and passionately affirm the historical resurrection of Jesus Christ (c.f. Pannenberg, Jesus—God and Man, 141-150). One would be hard pressed to place someone like Pannenberg in the liberal category on par with one who denies miracles! While Dantas’ passion is well placed and his emphasis is certainly noteworthy, he is quick to castigate those with whom he disagrees and he seems most interested in reflecting a highly dogmatic point of view instead of the intended ecumenical nature of the project as a whole—especially when he quotes almost exclusively male and Reformed voices.
Clark Pinnock takes us next through “The Uniqueness of the Life and Teachings of Jesus” and by means of introduction, he points to a gap in the Apostle’s Creed where there is nothing said about the life of the Messiah. Intending to fill this gap, Pinnock surveys the various controversies in the Gospels surrounding Christ’s birth, charges of illegitimacy, ministry, place in society and some of his theological contributions. Pinnock tells us that Jesus uniquely emphasized the Kingdom of God and coupled this with his emphasis on justice, on “a God who gives priority to the ethical above the cultic” (30). Pinnock offers us a compelling glimpse into the mystery of Christ as he related to a world that was both ‘other’ and ‘one another.’ This Jesus “embodied what he had announced” (33) and thus his life was unique compared to the religious leaders of his day.
Beginning with the historical context of Scripture, Graham Tomlin surveys Scripture’s early reflections on the meaning of Christ’s death on the cross and especially St. Paul and Corinthians. The uniqueness of the cross is not in the manner of death, but in how the early Christians applied meaning to the death of the Messiah, which makes the meaning of Jesus’ death significant and confounding. Much of Tomlin’s essay centers on Luther and Blaise Pascal (who is a surprising addition). He places Pascal alongside St. Paul and shows how both of these theologians had to react to the various worldviews of their day, and this is applicable to the modern Church, as she must grapple with the question of those not in Christ and those who seek a more pluralistic inclusion of other religions. The final simple comparison between Muhammad and Jesus is compelling: “both knew the struggle of being a persecuted and misunderstood prophet…” (61), and yet Jesus chose the path of nonresistance, making him distinct from Muhammad—thus the similarities seem to end where Golgotha begins. Tomlin’s historical assessments are certainly helpful and necessary, but one is left wondering where the ancient church fathers and mothers fit into his framework, as he jumps from Paul over them straight to Luther.
All of Christian orthodoxy depends upon the resurrection of Jesus. So contends Gabriel Fackre, and his essay is intended as a grand theological narrative sweep across the entirety of Scripture. Those who share a love of storytelling and cinema will be delighted by this unique structure. He starts with the stories of creation and fall, moves through the patriarchs of the Old Testament, and lands upon Jesus of Nazareth, who is the intersection of history. What makes Fackre’s contribution unique is the structure he utilizes, namely the great themes of systematic theology: creation, incarnation, and the last things to name a few. This is not unlike the structure of a film: acts one through three, culminating in the grand finale of the last things. Those familiar with these grand topics will not doubt enjoy the novel arrangement and Fackre’s presentation, though he breaks no new theological ground and does not quite address the central topic of Christ’s uniqueness in resurrection. For instance, resurrection was not an uncommon belief in the world of Jesus, and exploring ancient concepts such as reincarnation and karma could have helped explore this needed issue.
The sensitive topic of Jewish/Christian relations is the subject of Ellen Charry’s work and her words are hard-hitting and frustrating. For instance, “Paul had to pervert scriptural texts” (148) in his attempt to bring the Gentiles into Christ. This is frustrating because the scholarly debate between Paul and his Jewish background is extraordinarily complex from a historical point of view and Charry shows little awareness of the complexities of this. To describe Paul’s interpretiv
e methods in terms of ‘perversion’ is unfortunately distracting. Paul’s method of interpretation, though idiosyncratic, does not seem to be far from the Jewish mainstream (c.f. Richard B. Hays, Echoes of Scripture in the Letters of Paul). Paul is certainly not above criticism, however well deserved, but Charry’s essay often takes the form of harsh criticism of Christianity, and the tone and rhetoric are indeed a shock compared to the rest of the volume. While one cannot ignore the one problem of Jewish/Christian relations, Charry answers the ‘uniqueness of Christ’ question in purely negative terms (i.e. Christians aren’t Jews) and appears to interpret Paul in the least attractive light possible. She does not mention the recent proposals of the New Perspective and their works could help alleviate some apprehension regarding Christianity and Judaism, especially as regards the law. The work of James D.G. Dunn could have been of further assistance but no NPP proponent is considered. A further problem is that Charry cites few historical sources to bolster many of her historical claims, most of which are not substantiated or annotated. In short, this essay is more polemic than is necessary, making it stand out negatively in comparison to the other essays.
The spread of Islam in the modern world demands an essay like Ng Kam Weng’s. He highlights the similar views of Jesus found both in Islam and Christianity (i.e. both view Jesus as a prophet), and surveys the vast data found in the Quran regarding Jesus and his role in history: while Jesus is important, he is thoroughly subordinate in Muhammad (196), pushing Jesus away from such high Christology texts such as John 1:1 and 14. No prophet is ever said to be “in the form of God” (c.f. Phil. 2:6) and one wonders where the writings of Paul fit into Islam’s conception of Christ’s identity with the Father. The singular strength of this chapter is Weng’s charity towards the faith of Islam.
KK Yeo’s essay is remarkable in its tackling of the theme love as a means to connect Confucius (ren) and Paul (agape). Concise, intimate and genuine, Yeo’s work is a breathe of sincere ecumenical air. While an evangelical, he is dedicated to teaching the “law of Christ” as mutual bearing of one another’s burdens, seizing upon Galatians 6:2 (though more could be mentioned, c.f. Eph. 5:2, 21). Love is a term that has gone largely untouched in this volume and Yeo states unequivocally that “to be human is to be bound to God” (218), pushing both concepts together in a way that does not minimize the differences. What makes this applicable is that Yeo concludes on the practicality of his findings, finding that the love of neighbor is a key ethical grounding.
The editor Sung Wook Chung has the final word, and he further presses the “points of contact” (233) between Buddhism and Christianity. After discussing their differences—the doctrine of creation, where Christians affirm an actual creation, whereas Buddhism affirms an eternal universe—Chung points to four main similarities, with one of them being suffering. This is a key Christian concept as well, as the suffering of Christ on the cross will attest, and this has practical implications. Suffering is an unfortunate reality in our world and thus both faiths are in some sense yoked together in this reality. This finds its application in that we seek the similarities among one another, and do this in love and reverence for Christ.
In summation, Pinnock, Sung Wook Chung, and Yeo offer essays that sparkle with verve, creativity, and clarity. However, there is no engagement with patristic sources and liberation or feminist theologies, thus the uniqueness of Christ is not fully explored from an ecumenical perspective. It rightly affirms the uniqueness of Christ yet does not fully exhibit a consistent ecumenical spirit in part because of unnecessarily polemic arguments (Dantas/Charry). The volume also lacks a Scripture and subject index, making navigation difficult. Ultimately, although the volume has some marvelous essays, it contains too many caveats for a whole-hearted endorsement.
NQ
Showing posts with label Review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Review. Show all posts
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Christology: A Global Introduction (Parts III and IV)
Part three (109-188) is by far the most substantial part of Kärkkäinen’s work, dealing with theological luminaries such as Pannenberg, Barth, Tillich, Moltmann and Bultmann. His treatments of each theologian are incisive and his ability to summarize their key points of emphasis is respectable. He rightly emphasizes the ‘dialectic’ that captivated Barth and even includes lesser-known theologians such as evangelical Stanley Grenz. The only complaint one could offer in this section is that the more interesting writings from Grenz were published posthumously (c.f. Rediscovering the Triune God) and only one main text (Theology for the Community of God). from Grenz appears to be consulted at the time of Kärkkäinen’s publication. Throughout, Kärkkäinen is charitable and displays the views of in question with grace. All theological discussion ought to be conducted in such a manner and our author models this well. However, Kärkkäinen does not shy away from difficult questions that result from a theologian’s construction of theology. For instance, he questions Tillich’s contribution to modern theology and asks, “if the Fall was a necessary event?” (131-132), and calls his approach “idiosyncratic” (132). As regards Rudolph Bultmann, Kärkkäinen notes the ‘missionary’ aspect of why one would be interested in the ‘mytholgical nature’ of the New Testament (123). This reveals two key truthes in modern theology: first, we are products of our times, and second, that we ought to consider how to best offer the gospel to an increasingly pluralistic world. Though Bultmann denied the literal resurrection, nonetheless it held him emotionally captive, exemplifying the power of the Gospel to cause both one to see and yet another to stumble. For better or worse Kärkkäinen has wet the appetite of evangelicals and offered us a strong reason to now read Bultmann! The final part of Kärkkäinen’s work in part four concerns various Christological ideas that include black and feminist theology—among many others. For readers—and this reviewer—this section is the final bite of a rather fast-paced sweet. Kärkkäinen’s summation of black Christology is especially powerful in light of modern events (Ferguson), presenting his students with the problem of ‘otherness’ and the necessity for reconciliation ‘in Christ.’ The emphasis of James Cone on the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ offers evangelicals a firm starting point of identification. This creedal affirmation, found in 1 Cor. 15:1-8, is a strong primer for black Christology, and it’s a parallel belief that all evangelicals can embrace. “Liberation and reconciliation,” [Cone] said, “presuppose one another” (211).

The chapter on feminist Christology is both a painful and necessary reminder for all who profess the liberating message of Christ: the use of Holy Scripture to subordinate women. This injustice must be acknowledged and rectified. A helpful comment by Stanley Grenz of the previous section is this: “Jesus [is] not only essential deity but also essential humanity” (174). A point that could have been noted by Kärkkäinen concerns the continual use of “ἄνθρωπος” (generic: person, human) in the Gospels, and also by Paul in Romans 5 and 1 Corinthians 15: since Christ is commonly referred as a ‘ἄνθρωπος’ instead of ‘ἀνήρ’ (specific, male/man) this has some intriguing assumptions that may already press against the mistaken belief that “Jesus’ maleness has often been used as an argument against the full humanity of women” (198). Christ’s humanity is most often in view, not his maleness. Christ, as savior of women and men, is identified as the one who became σάρξ in John’s prologue. The humanness of the person, as complete in the image of God, is what matters in Christ; of note is Galatians 3:28 which directly quotes Gen. 1:27, indicating that the flesh of the Son of God who died and reconciled us of Paul’s primary concern. Thus, there is sufficient biblical warrant to elevate that status of Christ’s humanity and not overplay his gender in a manner that would disregard women, especially when both genders are active in ministry (Rom. 16; Phil. 4:2-3) and mutually yield to one another (Eph. 5:21). A helpful addition to this section would be the succinct and classic defense by the late T.F. Torrance who argues persuasively that the Christological excuse to exclude women “conflicts with the orthodox understanding of the incarnation as the saving assumption of the whole human being, male and female, and as the healing of our complete human nature.”[1] These additional considerations would have helped present some of the biblical witness that has been pressing back against patriarchy from the very incarnation.
There is much to commend about Kärkkäinen’s work. It is fast-paced and yet not without considerable substance, passionate without being pedantic. The diverse offerings are a breath of genuinely ecumenical air. Kärkkäinen offers us a wide feast of Christian history and theology that pushes all beyond the limits of the evangelical scholastic subculture. While there are some weaknesses—mostly due to the aforementioned brevity of the textbook–nearly every major portion of Church history is discussed, most major modern theologians are represented, and the major biblical difficulties are examined with a creedal and critical eye. Kärkkäinen’s theological distillation can only inspire further study and he is to be thanked for his work.
NQ
[1] Torrance, T.F. "The Ministry of Women." Touchstone Archives:. January 1, 1992. Accessed January 22, 2015. http://www.touchstonemag.com/archives/article.php?id=05-04-005-f.
Saturday, January 24, 2015
Hopped and Bothered: Stone Enjoy By 2.14.15
Stone -- Enjoy By 2.14.15 IPA
Alcohol content 9.4%.
I confess, I really am not a fan of Stone. Most of their porters and standard beers don't really work for me. Pouring this one out, though, my mind changed a bit. Its golden and clear, enough to read the bottle through my stout glass. The smell is amazing. Heavy pines, rainforest, and a lot of citrus. Grapefruit rind, a bit of lime.
Very tasty. The taste is a bit muted compared to the smell, but the bitterness offsets the pungent nature of the scent. Very nice balance between a light texture and a heavy taste. The flavors congeal rather nicely together in a juicy sensation.
Pause.
Anyway, the finish is a bit rough but in a good way. The heaviness is still there but is dispelled through it's dryness. The hops linger a bit which is nice.
Buy if: you can get it before the expiration date.
Overall: I'm not a big Stone guy, but this is an above average IPA.
3.75 out of 5.
NQ
Alcohol content 9.4%.
I confess, I really am not a fan of Stone. Most of their porters and standard beers don't really work for me. Pouring this one out, though, my mind changed a bit. Its golden and clear, enough to read the bottle through my stout glass. The smell is amazing. Heavy pines, rainforest, and a lot of citrus. Grapefruit rind, a bit of lime.
Very tasty. The taste is a bit muted compared to the smell, but the bitterness offsets the pungent nature of the scent. Very nice balance between a light texture and a heavy taste. The flavors congeal rather nicely together in a juicy sensation.
Pause.
Anyway, the finish is a bit rough but in a good way. The heaviness is still there but is dispelled through it's dryness. The hops linger a bit which is nice.
Buy if: you can get it before the expiration date.
Overall: I'm not a big Stone guy, but this is an above average IPA.
3.75 out of 5.
NQ
Christology: A Global Introduction, A Review (PART II)
Part I is here. Here is the rest.
Part two is a meditation upon the various Christological heresies within the early church traditions. Building off the New Testament, Kärkkäinen explains the various questions these holy writings produce, and the results are fascinating. Kärkkäinen covers Docetism, Apollinarianism, Arianism and Nestorianism, and their advocates and detractors. The difficult questions that were produced by these theological constructs are not hidden by Kärkkäinen, but are rather offered as a means to illustrate the difficulties surrounding the human one from Nazareth.
The one issue a reader might have is that main patristic sources such as Origen, Tertullian, and Irenaeus are not fully explained, thus leaving students a bit confused as to how the Church got from point A to C.
The councils Chalcedon and Nicaea are attempts to solve these perennial problems, but do so in a limited fashion. For instance, types of subordination are not immediately ruled out (contemporarily called ‘functional subordinationism’ with advocates such as Ware and Grudem), and this is an area where Christians continue to disagree. Kärkkäinen helpfully distinguishes between the Eastern and Western emphases concerning ‘natures’ (69-71), and showcases the tragic gap that developed between both East and West over these enduring issues of Christology and dogma. Built off these developments, the Reformation is front and center in engaging with kenosis Christology and Luther’s theology of the Cross, paving the way for modern theology (Moltmann).
Kärkkäinen then takes us on a whirlwind tour of the quests for the historical Jesus and the trappings of liberal Christianity, and he opines “one hopes that those involved will begin to dialogue more widely with systematic theology” (108). While the section on biblical studies was largely helpful, this part of the book is particularly edifying in illuminating the veiled aspects of church history.
NQ
Part two is a meditation upon the various Christological heresies within the early church traditions. Building off the New Testament, Kärkkäinen explains the various questions these holy writings produce, and the results are fascinating. Kärkkäinen covers Docetism, Apollinarianism, Arianism and Nestorianism, and their advocates and detractors. The difficult questions that were produced by these theological constructs are not hidden by Kärkkäinen, but are rather offered as a means to illustrate the difficulties surrounding the human one from Nazareth.
The one issue a reader might have is that main patristic sources such as Origen, Tertullian, and Irenaeus are not fully explained, thus leaving students a bit confused as to how the Church got from point A to C.
The councils Chalcedon and Nicaea are attempts to solve these perennial problems, but do so in a limited fashion. For instance, types of subordination are not immediately ruled out (contemporarily called ‘functional subordinationism’ with advocates such as Ware and Grudem), and this is an area where Christians continue to disagree. Kärkkäinen helpfully distinguishes between the Eastern and Western emphases concerning ‘natures’ (69-71), and showcases the tragic gap that developed between both East and West over these enduring issues of Christology and dogma. Built off these developments, the Reformation is front and center in engaging with kenosis Christology and Luther’s theology of the Cross, paving the way for modern theology (Moltmann).
Kärkkäinen then takes us on a whirlwind tour of the quests for the historical Jesus and the trappings of liberal Christianity, and he opines “one hopes that those involved will begin to dialogue more widely with systematic theology” (108). While the section on biblical studies was largely helpful, this part of the book is particularly edifying in illuminating the veiled aspects of church history.
NQ
Christology: A Global Introduction, A Review (PART I)
This review (though modified) was written for ST502, and I commend it to you.
Taking two thousand years of Christian theology and surveying it in fewer than three hundred pages is no small feat, especially when one includes the complexities of world religions. Dr. Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen—Professor of Systematic Theology at Fuller Theological Seminary—has engaged these diverse theological strands and offers students of theology an inclusive and largely successful survey on the person and work of Jesus Christ. He does this in four distinct parts.
Part one includes a survey of the New Testament witness to Christ, beginning with the various Christological titles employed to describe Jesus. Titles such as κύριος and Χριστός—among many others—are expounded upon, thanks to the previous scholarship of James D.G. Dunn, yielding a unity and diversity of Christological viewpoints within the New Testament. Kärkkäinen’s presentation is helpful and succinct because he draws upon current scholarship and is quick to inform the student about the complex theological titles for Jesus. He then turns to Jesus and the Gospels, where the great themes are briefly elucidated: for Mark, suffering and servanthood; for Matthew, kingship and Jewish identity; for Luke, inclusion; for John, the word as life. However, one can always press for more detail: for example, the Lukan theme of ‘eschatological reversal’ is not mentioned, and would have strengthened Kärkkäinen’s contention for inclusion, as Mary’s Magnificat praises YHWH for “bringing down the powerful” and as the one who has “lifted up the lowly” (Luke 1:46-55). The inclusion of women, gentiles and the poor in Luke’s rendering of Christ’s ministry would have helped flesh out this vital contention, as it is a dominant Luke motif. With all that said, Kärkkäinen does not force a synthesis between the divergent accounts but prefers to see each account as illuminating, “various aspects of the life, death, and resurrection of the One who was and is confessed as Lord and Savior” (43). The gospels are a tapestry to be experienced, not contained or diluted.
Rounding out part one is Paul and Kärkkäinen approaches the apostle in the same manner he approached the Gospels: the various titles appropriated by Paul for Christ are discussed, and a survey of the various Pauline epistles save for the Pastoral Epistles. The unfortunate exclusion of 1-2 Timothy and Titus, although understandable as they are certainly disputed texts, is a problematic omission when considered against the inclusion of Ephesians. Certainly the Pastoral Epistles contain some Christological content that merits consideration, and could even aid in the diversification of early “Catholicism,” assuming Paul is not their author. For example, Titus 2:13 may be the second instance where Paul affirms explicitly that Jesus is God, with the other being Romans 9:5. Notably, Jesus is called a ‘mediator’ in 1 Tim. 2:5, a text that begs for further integration with the biblical tradition, especially since it may contain a theological strand also seen in Hebrews of Jesus as ‘high priest.’ The notion of ‘received text’ must be contended with if theologians are to exclude three epistles of the most prominent first century interpreter of the life of Jesus.
Finally, Kärkkäinen contends that Paul believed in, among many things, the preexistence of Christ and particularly the death and resurrection of the only Son of God (58). The strength of this section is that the breadth of the Pauline writings are mined and each epistle is permitted to stand as sole witness to the truth of Christ with the lone exception being the Pastoral Epistles.[1]
NQ
Taking two thousand years of Christian theology and surveying it in fewer than three hundred pages is no small feat, especially when one includes the complexities of world religions. Dr. Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen—Professor of Systematic Theology at Fuller Theological Seminary—has engaged these diverse theological strands and offers students of theology an inclusive and largely successful survey on the person and work of Jesus Christ. He does this in four distinct parts.
Part one includes a survey of the New Testament witness to Christ, beginning with the various Christological titles employed to describe Jesus. Titles such as κύριος and Χριστός—among many others—are expounded upon, thanks to the previous scholarship of James D.G. Dunn, yielding a unity and diversity of Christological viewpoints within the New Testament. Kärkkäinen’s presentation is helpful and succinct because he draws upon current scholarship and is quick to inform the student about the complex theological titles for Jesus. He then turns to Jesus and the Gospels, where the great themes are briefly elucidated: for Mark, suffering and servanthood; for Matthew, kingship and Jewish identity; for Luke, inclusion; for John, the word as life. However, one can always press for more detail: for example, the Lukan theme of ‘eschatological reversal’ is not mentioned, and would have strengthened Kärkkäinen’s contention for inclusion, as Mary’s Magnificat praises YHWH for “bringing down the powerful” and as the one who has “lifted up the lowly” (Luke 1:46-55). The inclusion of women, gentiles and the poor in Luke’s rendering of Christ’s ministry would have helped flesh out this vital contention, as it is a dominant Luke motif. With all that said, Kärkkäinen does not force a synthesis between the divergent accounts but prefers to see each account as illuminating, “various aspects of the life, death, and resurrection of the One who was and is confessed as Lord and Savior” (43). The gospels are a tapestry to be experienced, not contained or diluted.
Rounding out part one is Paul and Kärkkäinen approaches the apostle in the same manner he approached the Gospels: the various titles appropriated by Paul for Christ are discussed, and a survey of the various Pauline epistles save for the Pastoral Epistles. The unfortunate exclusion of 1-2 Timothy and Titus, although understandable as they are certainly disputed texts, is a problematic omission when considered against the inclusion of Ephesians. Certainly the Pastoral Epistles contain some Christological content that merits consideration, and could even aid in the diversification of early “Catholicism,” assuming Paul is not their author. For example, Titus 2:13 may be the second instance where Paul affirms explicitly that Jesus is God, with the other being Romans 9:5. Notably, Jesus is called a ‘mediator’ in 1 Tim. 2:5, a text that begs for further integration with the biblical tradition, especially since it may contain a theological strand also seen in Hebrews of Jesus as ‘high priest.’ The notion of ‘received text’ must be contended with if theologians are to exclude three epistles of the most prominent first century interpreter of the life of Jesus.Finally, Kärkkäinen contends that Paul believed in, among many things, the preexistence of Christ and particularly the death and resurrection of the only Son of God (58). The strength of this section is that the breadth of the Pauline writings are mined and each epistle is permitted to stand as sole witness to the truth of Christ with the lone exception being the Pastoral Epistles.[1]
NQ
[1] The issue about the authorship of the Pastoral Epistles is long and vexatious. Suffice to say, the slim majority of Pauline scholars reject Pauline authorship (I. Howard Marshall, Jouette Bassler, Raymond Collins) while others affirm them (Ben Witherington, Luke Timothy Johnson). Personally, I'm on the fence until I've had enough chance to research the specific topic on my own time. The only other text I've delved into is Ephesians and I'm leaning against Pauline authorship though its not a settled case at all.
Saturday, November 8, 2014
A Review of Hans Schwarz's "Eschatology"
This is my second assignment for ST503 and Dr. Crisp. Its an early draft so be nice. Its my second paper to ever make it to the graduate level. Enjoy!
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| A highly recommended book. |
In the multifaceted world we inhabit, eschatology can
encompass a multitude of disciplines: philosophy, science and theology. Hans Schwarz
has offered the world an exceptionally readable volume that attempts to synthesize
the best of all the aforementioned disciplines into a broad survey of the last
things. He treads where many systematic theologies do not, especially in
exploring various secular and progressive worldviews, seeking the truth in all
of them. He largely succeeds and offers the reader his findings in three major
parts.
Part one engages with the diversity and
unity of both Testaments as they relate to eschatology. The historical
background of the Old Testament “…was basically a death-driven culture” (32). As
is often the case, existentialism and the knowledge of death are never far from
each other where “…the living know that they will die but the dead know nothing”
(Eccl. 9:5). Schwarz notes the heightened “emphasis on the this-worldly aspect
of life” (36) and because of this reality, to live seventy or even eighty years
was desired above all else (Ps. 90:9-10), though these years were still a
breath. Though his survey is expansive, Schwarz could have shown that the Old
Testament attests to a longing for justice and that punishment of the wicked (Ps.
110:6; 139:18-20) does not happen in this life (Job 21:7; Jer. 12:1). Because
of the lack of justice in this earthly existence, YHWH will act in the next
life to bring judgment upon Israel’s oppressors, thus suggesting Israel and the
world’s need for cosmic justice and the possibility of resurrection of the
righteous and the wicked (Dan. 12:2; Isaiah 66:15-24).
Based off Schwarz’s findings in the Old
Testament, he moves on to show that the New Testament has a more developed outlook
on the question of eschatology with special attention placed on fulfillment in
Christ. For example, Matthew “wants to show that the Old Testament promises
have found their fulfillment in Jesus” (84). Schwarz then rightly insists upon
continuity between the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament as both Testaments
testify to Jesus and his mission and exaltation, though this was not as
developed because the importance of Second Temple Judaism is left largely
unmentioned. In regards to Jesus’ messianic understanding, Schwarz correctly
claims that, “[Jesus] never delineated a chronology of life eternal nor a geography
of the beyond” (80); this biblical obscurity has resulted in over two thousand
years of speculation on the part of the Church, and it is indeed the most troubling
aspect of Christian eschatology; especially since it lacks any sort of future
details and relies on fragments to paint a broader picture. In sum, the
biblical portraits are fractured and leave us to gather up the various
portions. However, for Schwarz the biblical tensions are less worrisome because
“Christ anticipates the resurrection of the dead through his own resurrection,
thus providing us with a foundation for hope” (96). The resurrection of Jesus
is paradigmatic of our future experience and this is congruent with Paul and
John’s teachings regarding this matter (1 Cor. 15; John 5:29).
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| The End. |
Part two reflects the larger debate
between science, secularism and philosophy as they all relate to eschatology. Schwarz
covers discussions over various theologies including process, feminist,
liberationist and pluralism: the advocates comprise Wolfhart Pannenberg, John Cobb,
Jürgen Moltmann and Leonardo Boff among others. Each theologian’s perspective
is examined and given a place at the table for a fair exchange, though not
without critique. Process theology is specifically singled out and one must ask
to what extent Christian doctrine is maintained amongst a pluralistic
worldview—a point of view decidedly not shared by the New Testament. Because of
this, Schwarz notes “Cobb’s proposal seems more akin to the Hellenistic
striving for oneness as demonstrated by Platonic and Aristotelian ontologically
grounded philosophy. The Christian faith, however, is characterized by
individuality in unity” (169-170). This is a successful critique and could be
pressed further to include the imagery of incorporation of human beings into
Christ’s body, his Church (1 Cor. 12:12-28), illustrating the necessity of all
Christians, American and other, citizen and immigrant, and male and female, to
be one in status in Christ (Gal. 3:28). Individuality is maintained and
corporatized, allowing personality to thrive within community. It is also
worthy to note the claim that Scripture appears soteriologically exclusive
rather than pluralistic, as the famous Shema (Deut. 6:4) proclaims a strict Jewish
monotheism. Paul also affirms (and expands) this famous text in 1 Cor. 8:4-6 to
include Jesus (see Gordon Fee, Pauline
Christology, Hendrickson, 2007, 88-94), making pluralism (and subsequent
process thought) difficult to accept on the basis of biblical texts as the
exclusive divinity of Christ is attested above all other faiths (John 14:6).
With his mind tuned to environmental
concerns, Schwarz adds to the discussion concerning the ecological crisis,
where “life is sustained only be exploiting the inanimate world” (195). Life
feeds on life, and this appears to be an apocalyptic outcome of consumerist
exploitation (196), which compounds the problem of the greenhouse effect (196-199)
and overpopulation (201-202). The issue is that “humanity elevated itself into
God’s place…and ‘for the glory of God’ was replaced by the glorification and
deification of humanity” (205). We live in a seemingly limited creation and this
brings up an ominous question: was earth meant
to sustain human life forever? Human progress has taken a left turn in the dark
and Schwarz thankfully recognizes that without hope, humankind has nothing left
for itself: “…what can we, as Christians, actually offer in terms of the
content of hope?” (243). Schwarz does not despair, and pushes on with the task
of offering hope to a dying world.
In the final part of his work, Schwarz covers
four controversial areas of Christian eschatology: setting an actual date for
the end of all things, the millennium and its various flavors, universal
salvation and purgatory. Schwarz flatly rejects any attempt to place a time to
the coming of Christ as “not about outguessing the Lord but being faithful to
the call” (321), and like many church fathers (Luther, Augustine) he discards
the timetable method and opts for hope. In doing so, his points stands well
under scrutiny as the New Testament never set a date to the return of Christ. As
regards the millennium, He takes the greatest exception with dispensationalism and
concurs with Dale Moody; “we could simply discard these [end times] theories as
‘undue speculation over highly symbolic teachings’” (335). The damage done by
this apocalyptic teaching is not glossed over by Schwarz and it has no doubt
“been misused for political and religious purposes” (336), especially within
the context of modern fundamentalism which misses the purpose of apocalyptic
imagery: to bring hope to those who are oppressed, “not…in a triumphalistic
manner, but as a pastoral comfort” (337). Schwarz is certainly on point with
this admonition, and those of us who have come out of fundamentalism will
resonate because of the entrenched emphasis on the rapture and fighting culture
wars instead of the necessity of justice for widows and orphans (James 1:27).
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| Oh Camping. |
Considering the doctrine of universal
salvation, Schwarz pointedly concludes “we have little biblical ground to go on
for a universal homecoming or a restoration of all things to God” (337). In
light of the numerous judgment texts in Scripture (Isaiah 66:24; Matt. 10:28;
25:41-46; Jude 7), one would concur that universal salvation is indeed a
difficult theological proposition to embrace. However, Schwarz does not engage
the strongest Universalist arguments from the basic proof texts (Rom. 5:18,
Col. 1:20; Eph. 1:10). This reveals a missed chance to answer lingering questions
in the minds of many evangelicals who opt for universalism on the basis of such
verses.
Because of his his rejection of
universalism, Schwarz is committed to the two-fold outcome of human destiny.
Unfortunately, Schwarz leaves himself open to criticism from another side in
the Christian debate as Annihilationists (or Conditionalists) would affirm the
twofold outcome of eternal judgment and share his views of an eternal
punishment. However, Schwarz rejects annihilationism in favor of eternal
conscious torment (395-97; 402) by means of a question: “how can there be an
annihilation of anybody if there is no escape from God, since God is
everywhere, even in death and beyond death?” (396). The question is a non
sequitur and one could answer it this way: as it took a divine act of creation
to impute life into that which was lifeless (Gen. 2:7), so it is also a divine
act of destruction when God destroys both body and soul (Matt. 10:28). Human
finitude is evident in that only God is immortal (1 Tim. 6:16) and any life
given to us is derived from the Creator, a sentiment that Schwarz explicitly
affirms (257). Thus any eternal life, a phrase that seems restricted solely to
the elect (e.g. Matt 19:16; 25:46; John 3:15-16, 36; 10:28; Rom. 2:7; 5:21;
6:23; Gal. 6:8), is denied to those not in Christ.
Curiously, while Schwarz mentions Oscar
Cullmann several times throughout his book (73n, 119, 140), he betrays no
awareness of the annihilationist arguments in Cullmann’s Immortality of the Soul or Resurrection of the Dead? (Wipf &
Stock, reprinted 2000). Cullmann’s words are powerful: “For Christian (and
Jewish) thinking the death of the body is also destruction of God-created life.
No distinction is made: even the life of our body is true life; death is the
destruction of all life created by God” (Immortality,
11). Scripture seems to suggest death (Ps. 68:2; Is. 66:24; Luke 13:3,5; John
3:16; Rom. 6:23) and eternal destruction (2 Thess. 1:9) as the end result of
the wicked—not their eternal torment. To
suggest the traditional doctrine of eternal torment seems to promote a vision
of final eschatological dualism, one that does not seem to fit comfortably into
Schwarz’s theological vision of “the completion of the universe” (404).
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| @thenakedpastor. Wonderful art. |
Eschatology must be seen not as
despair, but as hope. Proleptic anticipation, which views the resurrection of
Jesus Christ as the commencement of the event of new creation, is the operative
lens by which Schwarz concludes his volume. We see everything in light of
Christ, and we “anticipate proleptically this future along the avenue which the
Christ event provides” (407). Schwarz has written a truly magisterial book and
there is much to commend. His depth is illustrated by his familiarity of
diverse theologians and his ability to faithfully represent their perspectives
even though he may passionately disagree is a model of charity. The chapters
relating to science, ecology and scientific reason were especially insightful,
bringing material to light to readers who otherwise would not have known about
external worldly developments. Because of this inclusion, theologians will now
be able to further benefit the church, allowing us to both engage and learn
more as we progress in mutual respect towards the future. While a reader may dispute
his interpretation on certain doctrines (such as his lack of engagement with annihilationism
and universalism), his irenic tone epitomizes Saint Paul’s admonition in Rom.
12:9-21, especially since we are called to “love one another with mutual
affection” and we “extend
hospitality to strangers.”
It took everything in me to not jump back to old habits by giving this 4.5 stars.
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Rethinking Hell: A Review
Edward Fudge’s book “The Fire That Consumes” is a very strong
case for conditional immortality (or annihilationism). Fudge's work has the bonus of also being the most comprehensive text on the subject, one that actually includes the relevant Old Testament backgrounds. This is missing from much of the debate on eternal punishment and it is to be commended.
This book has moved into the top tier in regards to the literature on the nature and duration of final punishment. The list of contributors Chris Date, Greg Stump and Josh Anderson have assembled is impressive, ranging from the ancient of days (early 20th century) to present day. They include:
E. Earle Ellis. Clark Pinnock. John Stott. John Wenham. Anthony Thiselton. There are plenty more, but this should wet your appetite.
I will get the negatives out of the way first.
NEGATIVES:
There is some overlap, as is to be expected when you are dealing with biblical texts. Some may find this difficult to wade through, but perhaps a better way to see it as through and exhaustive. Almost every text is examined and every argument at least considered. This repetition illustrates the consistency of annihilationist exegesis.
This doesn’t reflect the book, but I would’ve enjoyed more interaction with universalism, especially within its current more evangelical form. But, safe to say, the book does just fine on it's own.
POSITIVES:
For an ongoing review, see Scot McKnight's review of our book.
Rethink Hell. Start with Fudge and this. If you prefer the kindle version, we have that too.
4.5 out of 5.
--Nick
This book has moved into the top tier in regards to the literature on the nature and duration of final punishment. The list of contributors Chris Date, Greg Stump and Josh Anderson have assembled is impressive, ranging from the ancient of days (early 20th century) to present day. They include:
E. Earle Ellis. Clark Pinnock. John Stott. John Wenham. Anthony Thiselton. There are plenty more, but this should wet your appetite.
I will get the negatives out of the way first.
NEGATIVES:
There is some overlap, as is to be expected when you are dealing with biblical texts. Some may find this difficult to wade through, but perhaps a better way to see it as through and exhaustive. Almost every text is examined and every argument at least considered. This repetition illustrates the consistency of annihilationist exegesis.
This doesn’t reflect the book, but I would’ve enjoyed more interaction with universalism, especially within its current more evangelical form. But, safe to say, the book does just fine on it's own.
POSITIVES:
- The positives, I more or less mentioned in the beginning.
- It is exhaustive (E. Earle Ellis include early church fathers and the OT).
- It takes into account the Old Testament imagery and literature in a way that unites the testaments instead of dividing them (Ellis for example, including Fudge's JETS article).
- It presents a robust evangelical engagement with Scripture and esteems the authority of God’s word (most of the authors and contributors would be described under the umbrella of a generous orthodoxy).
- It is charitable (but certainly passionate c.f. Pinnock) in its disagreements with traditionalism. Too often we are prone to shrieks and scratching. Not so with this work.
- It includes scholars from around the spectrum: Pinnock (open theist), Swinburne (Orthodox), Philip E. Hughes (Reformed), Christopher Marshall (Pacifist), and British (ACUTE).
- And I’m mentioned in the acknowledgements. So that’s pretty cool too.
For an ongoing review, see Scot McKnight's review of our book.
Rethink Hell. Start with Fudge and this. If you prefer the kindle version, we have that too.
4.5 out of 5.
--Nick
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Hopped and Bothered: Avery's The Kaiser (2013)
Avery Brewing -- The Kaiser Oktoberfest 2013
Alcohol content 10.2%. I'm drinking this about nine months after it was bottled. Pouring it gives me a bit of a pause as it isn't as thick as I thought it would be. Its coppery and still. A fluffy head of foam arises from my cold mug and I take a sniff. Warm baked bread. Raisin. Fig. Pumpkin and nutmeg. Some caramel. the hops are muted, having withered away for nine months.
The first sip reveals several things. First, the beer is not thick and is eminently drinkable. Very smooth. Second, the alcohol content is hidden quite well, adding to point number one. Third, the mouth-feel is silky and calm. Surprisingly tame, with hints of the aforementioned baked bread. The malt isn't over done, and may disappoint some, but its a strong Oktoberfest.
Finish-wise, the beer is smooth and delicious. If the alcohol content can be handled, a second beer might be in order.
Buy if: you have a time machine, or a Bevmo that bought too many.
Overall: smooth, surprisingly not over boozy, rich and subdued. A nice paradox.
3.5 out of 5.
--Nick
Friday, March 28, 2014
NOAH, A Review
Contrary to some reviewers, I am putting a SPOILER warning
here. As someone who never read the script or reviews prior to screening, I want to insist that
upon seeing the trailer, you haven’t seen much of anything. So, please, don’t
spoil anything for those who haven’t seen the flick.
As I sit down to write this, I’m reminded of the controversy
surrounding a certain popular pastor’s book. In some sense, it’s funny that we
haven’t changed much. In another sense, it is sad that, well, we haven’t
changed much.
You know the story well enough. You heard it in Sunday
school, or if you were like me, you heard it in high school from a teacher who
skipped the nasty bits. If you were like me, those parts were far more
interesting than the following material. Set in an unknown frame of time, NOAH
is about a dying world that has been given a count down, and there is one man
who is called to survive. In the midst of chaos, terror and moral ambiguity,
the questions that arrive on screen for us are not easy nor are they something
to be dismissed.
Is humanity worth saving?
What does it mean to be chosen by God?
What does it mean to be righteous?
What is mercy and justice?
What’s the big deal?
TECHNICAL
Having sat through Aronofsky’s The Fountain, I was pretty
giddy about sitting through a big budget piece (especially since he was tapped
early on to do Batman—something I still dream about!). While I couldn’t sit
through The Fountain again, Aronosky is the undisputed master of the artful and
the weird. The backdrop of NOAH is both parabolic and dystopic; people scavenge
about, plants die, and violence against the Creator’s creation (both animal and
human). The world is unforgiving, devoid of mercy, love and life.
The imagery
is astounding, with the opening credit sequence a midrash of brutal imagery and theological nuance. No
detail is left untouched. The Nephilim are fascinating, able to convey several
distinct expressions through light and solid rock.
I could go on, but you didn’t come for the appetizer.
NARRATIVE
NOAH consists of a few short chapters in Genesis, so its
difficult to imagine how one could gleam a 2 hour story from such material.
Purely on the basis of pragmatism, creative license is required. That said, the
film is uneven but never dull. It can roughly divided into four sections, which
I will cover.
SPIRAL.
From the beginning, the first section prides itself on
establishing Noah and his family with minimal dialogue. This is commendable for
a blockbuster, and the writing prides itself on maintaining silence when
necessary. The move from low to high upon the mountain involves the climax of
two visions. Noah’s calling is clear. This sequence involves slow but
methodical pacing, complete inspired by the interesting characters and back
story of a crumbling world.
SIN.
From the building of the ark to the judgment, Noah
continues, providing a tense family atmosphere with lust, envy and mystery. The
sequence is aided by the scenery-chomping Winstone, who adds the necessary
external villain. With more characters involved, the stakes rise and everything
sets off with an incredible deluge of rain, bodies and death.
SUFFERING.
Isolation in the midst of unseen terror becomes a palpable
element of this sequence, with Noah and his family upon the ark. The pacing
slows down, running on steam from the previous section, family members
fracturing, introducing a truly complex moral dilemma (one that was spoiled for
me) that threatens everything. The emotional intensity was so strong that I had
to look away at several scenes. To hear people screaming and banging against the outside of the ark certainly adds a dimension that eluded the storytelling technique of my high school bible teacher.
MERCY.
At the end, mercy is glimpsed and the waters of terror pass.
We’re given a new hope, but one that is seen only in the light of suffering,
sin and a spiral that may or may not have ceased here. The ending is ambiguous,
quiet and significantly underplayed. Which is nice and a great change from the
blockbuster elements of the first two sequences.
Russell Crowe was not my first choice as Noah, but he fills
the shoes of a man that we all claim to know. Noah is said to be a righteous
man, and this is both a gift and a curse. He is, however, outdone by Jennifer
Connelly, whose sobering performance anchors the film, adding to the grit and
terror of human nature that looms across the firelight. The sons are passable,
not given much to do. Emma Watson is lovely and fiery, exhibiting a
single-minded passion for life and honor. Ray Winstone is oily and unrefined, a
perfect antagonist to the stoic Noah.
Anthony Hopkins is Anthony Hopkins. Creative, sly, and winsome.
Always awesome.
But you didn’t come for this part. Onto the meat.
THEMATIC
Let me get this out of the way now. If you are a committed
young earth creationist, biblical literalist, anti-environmentalist, then you
will probably hate NOAH. If your stomach lining thins when you hear talk that
you associate with liberals and hippies, then you will not like this movie.
As someone who is an open evangelical (that means I pour a
drink and listen before I hit you with a Bible verse), I couldn’t wait to see
where NOAH took me. The story in the text is so vague and general that I was
hoping Aronofsky aimed more for the spirit of the text rather than the law.
I won’t be commenting on the negative reactions from many
Christians, mostly because I don’t feel like linking their comments here.
Besides, you probably know the complaints and could google them yourselves. I’m
going to speak positively about the film.
Noah’s character arc is coherent. He goes to the people
outside of the camp to fulfill the desires of his son, and witnesses the
extreme wickedness of humanity. The misogyny, violence and excess of the camp
is an excellent witness to the current first world culture. Like Gibson’s Apocalypto, Aronofsky simply holds up a mirror and asks us to
look at ourselves.
The environmental factor is certainly present, but that is
because the material is already present in Genesis. When I mentioned this to
someone (who hadn’t seen the film), he nodded and confirmed that the topic was
there. Gen 6:11-12 states “In God’s sight, the earth had become corrupt and
filled with violence. God saw that the earth was corrupt, because all creatures
behaved corruptly on the earth.” (CEB). The ESV/ NRSV/ NIV reflects this; the
earth was corrupt because of human atrocities and wickedness. Human activity
upon the earth, as given by YHWH, is culpable in the corruption. The punishment
of humans is linked to their treatment of God’s earth. NOAH reflects this
perfectly. So not only is the film a timely story on the dangers of over consumption
and excess, it holds up Noah as a righteous man who doesn’t live outside his
means. Josephus, a first century Jew says, “When Noah had made these
supplications, God, who loved the man for his righteousness, granted entire
success to his prayers, and said that it was not he who brought the destruction
on a polluted world, but that they
underwent that vengeance on account of their own wickedness.” Antiquities of
the Jews, 1.3.99.
The world is good because the Creator gave it to him.
Because of human sin, we gained death. NOAH has a high view of sin, sovereignty
and human freedom. The capacity for choice in the heat of a watery apocalypse
comes to a full head in the finale.
Simply, the final 35 minutes involving the planned murder of
a woman’s baby is consistent with everything the film has done thus far. Noah
has seen wickedness and is fighting to end such evil, yet has become evil. The
revelation of the pregnancy is combined with a subjective event (the ceasing of
rain) and is interpreted by two characters (Lla and Noah) very differently.
Human life is precious, a whole being of sacred material made by God. Noah,
having seen absolute sin, acts to end such sin. Noah speaks for some of the
audience, who is repulsed by evil. Yet, he undoes himself as he believes
“justice” must be carried out. It’s a powerful example of how a righteous man
can twist himself to the point of becoming inhuman.
And that is what Aronofsky was going for. He says,
"Within our tradition, being Jews—a long tradition of thousands of years of people writing commentary on the biblical story—there isn't anything we're doing that's out of line or out of sync, but within that, you don't want to contradict what's there. In all the midrash tradition, the text is what the text is. The text exists and is truth and the word and the final authority. But how you decide to interpret it, you can open up your imagination to be inspired by it."
Aronofsky also specifically mentioned "justice" and mercy" in the same article,
That was a big part of the movie for us. When Ari and I started working on the project and started reading the Bible over and over, there's this term where they call Noah "righteous," so what does that word mean? There are a lot of ways to define it. So we started talking to a lot of people, a lot of the different theologians and scholars, and looking it up and trying to understand it. We came upon this idea that "righteous" is a perfect balance of justice and mercy. Ari [co-writer] put it a good way by defining it—since we're both parents—as this: If you're a parent with too much justice, you destroy your child with strictness. And if you're a parent with too much mercy, you destroy them with leniency. So being a really good parent is about finding that balance, which I think is in the story of Noah. Actually, it's similar to the story that God goes through. At the beginning of the story of Noah, he wants justice, and by the end he [offers] mercy through the rainbow, and grace. It was that balance that interested us.
Joel Green notes, “In broader biblical terms, this is simply the way of sin.
Sin begets sin, one sin after the other. Sin in Genesis 3 is like a contagion,
transmuting from shame and vulnerability to heightened alienation, even to the
point where Yahweh’s own voice is no longer invitation but threat. Cain’s
murderous act results in his exile (4:1-16); a restless, godless society
emerges (4:17-24; 5:28-29); global violence leads to global destruction
(6:1-9:18); sin within Noah’s family leads to the enslavement of one people by
another (9:17-27); and, finally, the imperialism of conquest leads to the
confusion of languages (ch11).” Body, Soul, and Human Life, 89.
God’s mercy is evidenced (in survival) by everyone except Noah. The
balance of justice and mercy is shown, and Noah cannot see it. Blinded by his
own sin (the sin he sought to eradicate in others and himself), he cannot make
sense of it all. His journey into the heart of darkness is compelling,
terrifying and appropriate.
Plus, let’s not forget that even righteous people act like
jerks when their feet are to the fire. Or when we’re late for church.
CONCLUSION
Much could be said, and I’ve said too much already. Should
you see NOAH? Yes. Will you like NOAH? Who knows. Only God knows. That said, I
found NOAH to be spiritually captivating, theologically rich and cinematically
enjoyable. You will not agree with the creative choices (there are parts I
disagree with), but the choices will stimulate your spirit.
3.5 out of 4 stars.
--Nick
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Women in the World of the Earliest Christians: Some Reflections
I hated history in high school and during undergrad. Mostly, it was listless and detached from my own reality. Of course, now that I've stepped out from that mindset, the ancient past has come to life in some curious ways. Reading literature about the New Testament, including the social and political world has added multiples layers to my understand. One of the chief texts is Lynn Cohick's Women in the World of the Earliest Christians.
So far, there are four main facts I've learned in the first three chapters. One, the lack of female representation in marriage documents is astounding. Simply, women, with few exceptions, weren't allowed to represent themselves. They had to have a male (relative or not) stand in for them. Two, divorce was common but didn't carry any particular shame as regards to the woman. In fact, many women could get their dowry back without much fuss.
Three, barrenness didn't necessarily result in shame. So while a Greco-Roman woman could be divorced (or request or suggest one) if she couldn't have children, most often the husband didn't make a big deal out of it. Fourth and finally, most women married roughly around age 15 and didn't usually get to see their children reach adulthood.
So I highly recommend this text. Cohick deals with papyrus, ancient rhetoric (some of it so sexist it will make your toes curl) and seeks to provide nuance and clarity to the modern stereotypes of ancient women. Well worth your time.
Plus, if that isn't enough, I bought this book for my wife and haven't let her read it yet! Of course if she asked, I would mutually allow it.
--Nick
Three, barrenness didn't necessarily result in shame. So while a Greco-Roman woman could be divorced (or request or suggest one) if she couldn't have children, most often the husband didn't make a big deal out of it. Fourth and finally, most women married roughly around age 15 and didn't usually get to see their children reach adulthood.
So I highly recommend this text. Cohick deals with papyrus, ancient rhetoric (some of it so sexist it will make your toes curl) and seeks to provide nuance and clarity to the modern stereotypes of ancient women. Well worth your time.
Plus, if that isn't enough, I bought this book for my wife and haven't let her read it yet! Of course if she asked, I would mutually allow it.
--Nick
Saturday, December 14, 2013
Eminem's "The Marshall Mathers LP 2" -- A Review
Well this has been a long time coming. Eminem hasn't always been a welcome addition to my musical library. When I was 16 I used to hide The Eminem Show under my pillow like one hides a naughty magazine. So I've been a pretty big fan for about a decade, and took the time to listen to every album released.
I offer a brief sketch of his (single) studio works in order of worst to best, excluding of course MMLP2.
Infinite -- while certainly entertaining in a "aww how cute look how far you've come" way, most of the album listens as well as a metal scrub brush.
Relapse -- it may just be me, but this album struck me as incredibly out of place in regards to Eminem's story. Coming out of addiction and depression, and to release this album felt like a bit of a slap in the face. Plus, the really obnoxious accent he brought back wasn't welcome in the first place for me. However, Beautiful is one of my favorite tracks and highlights the needless addition of the other 19 songs.
The Slim Shady LP -- this may get me in some trouble, but I didn't care for this album when I was in my prime immature stage. Despite the borderline obnoxious tone, I still find it in my heart to enjoy My Name Is.
Encore -- most likely the most schizo Eminem has ever been, with half the album sounding like a confession and the other half sounding like a series of raps designed to appeal to children. Still, Mockingbird, Never Enough, Like Toy Soldiers and Yellow Brick Road remain among some of my favorite tracks.
The Marshall Mathers LP -- I didn't listen to the entirety of this album until a few years ago. I must say, listening to this all the way through helped. The Real Slim Shady, The Way I Am, and especially Stan offered a serious of dark tracks packed with emotion. I will admit that much of the content has made me uncomfortable as of late, and I have never been able to listen to Kim; I find it too emotionally traumatic.
Recovery -- this is the album I wish Eminem had released instead of Relapse. While certainly not in his lyrical prime, Eminem nonetheless shows a strong introspection that was sorely needed in Relapse. My favorite tracks include Not Afraid, No Love, Space Bound, Cinderella Man, 25 to Life, Talking 2 Myself and Love the Way You Lie.
The Eminem Show -- frankly, this album was the one that hit me square in the head. Combining the hit-or-miss introspection in his previous works with the aggression needed to hit my adrenal glands, Em simply nailed this one. A perfect mixture of rage and regret. 'Til I Collapse, White America, Business, Cleaning Out My Closet, Sing for the Moment and Without Me are still on my main Em playlist.
Onto the actual MMLP2 review.
The way I structure my film reviews doesn't really work here, so I have created something new. Hope you are able to track with me.
THE CROWN
Flying above the album, judging it from a special perspective, the album is fairly strong. It includes a mixture of tracks and perspectives, and doesn't overstay it's welcome. While I find myself cringing during certain tracks, overall my thoughts are generally positive. I won't be speaking on every single track, as I prefer to focus on the best representations of each category.
THE GOOD
The highlights are several fold. Eminem's lyricism and introspection are welcome as usual, and he delves into deeper territory than before.
Before I can jump into the specifics of the album, I must begin with the opening track, Bad Guy. A sequel of sorts to Stan, this track is the most difficult one to sit through, and is thus the most rewarding. It sets the stage for the remainder of the album. While I don't want to spoil it too much, the finale completely subverts a majority of his rapping career in terms of themes. The homphobia, misogyny, all of it is presented as something he is now entirely aware of. The final two minutes is the most self-eviscerating and scorching minutes of music I've ever heard. Its simply something waiting to be experienced, and you do yourself a disservice if you miss it.
Legacy, with its haunting chorus, is a strong compliment to Eminem's reflection of bullying in his past. Nostalgia suits him well, and we're given glimpses into his childhood.
While Survival isn't particularly innovative like Bad Guy, the rock track works nicely and helped me press twenty extra pounds while at the gym. So it suits itself well, and I find myself enjoying it.
Berzerk, as I mentioned a while back, took me a few listens to get it. Once that happened, its become one of my favorite tracks. The energy and free-falling fun is far too fun to ignore. Rick Rubin nailed this one.
Rap God is another track I reviewed and my opinion has grown. It is lyrically insane and the beat works nicely while running. His 97 minute blitzkrieg in 15 seconds is, well, something to behold.
Stronger Than I Was is an incredibly vulnerable tale of Eminem and his wife Kim. The vitriol is largely absent and this almost reads like a letter of regret to someone who hurt him. The openness reveals the humanity behind the guy who wrote Kim. While hope is in short supply, the track is revealing and the sung chorus is laden with emotion.
In the same way, Headlights (sung by the dude from fun. so don't let that be a negative) nearly had me in tears, I can't lie. My wife, who enjoys some of Eminem, found it incredibly moving. So, just keep a tissue nearby.
So Far … is funny and, well, just damn odd. Its a clear throw back to Slim Shady. It depends on how much you enjoy Slim. I don't like him, but this had me laughing, especially with the country vibe.
While The Monster isn't as good as Love the Way You Lie, Rhianna always sounds nice when paired with Eminem.
THE MIDDLE
Asshole is one of those tracks that probably sounded great on paper, but doesn't lend itself to multiple listens. The throw back to his rapping past where he was, well, an asshole isn't really worthwhile. But, that said, the beat is beastly and Skylar Grey is good as usual.
Eminem sings on Rhyme or Reason. While I enjoyed the chorus interpolation, the lyrics are relatively uninteresting and I haven't found myself listening to the track again. Of course, his references to his father provide a bit of food for thought.
Brainless is curiously listenable, even though I hated hated hated it when I first heard it. The story telling of Eminem's past is intriguing, but the beat really bothers me still.
Love Game is most like the most offensive track in regards to Eminem's view of women. The sexualized lyrics aren't atypical of rap, but they feel out of place. That said, holy crap some of these lines are hysterical. Kendrick Lamar echoes Eminem nicely, and this brings to mind Kendrick's freestyle that got him in hot water.
THE BAD
Parking Lot is annoying, even if one understands the context of the skit. Its simply unnecessary.
So Much Better claims a pretty epic beat, but the tirade against a woman (lover? general women?) is tired and eye-rolling. Likewise, Evil Twin is Slim Shady gone wrong.
CONTEX/NT
While the homophobia and misogyny is unneeded, Eminem shows an acute awareness of this. Instead of being an album that celebrates such things, at most all we can claim now is that he is inconsistent.
END
Despite some severely obnoxious tracks and unfortunate content, Eminem nailed this one. The introspection has been lifted almost to center stage and Eminem's production is unique, curious and most often compelling. Lyrically and technically, he's as good as he's ever been and in the case of Rap God and Bad Guy, far greater.
Where does MMLP2 fit into my above scale of worst to best albums? I'd stick it as better than Recovery and beneath The Eminem Show.
4 stars out of 5.
--Nick
I offer a brief sketch of his (single) studio works in order of worst to best, excluding of course MMLP2.
Infinite -- while certainly entertaining in a "aww how cute look how far you've come" way, most of the album listens as well as a metal scrub brush.
Relapse -- it may just be me, but this album struck me as incredibly out of place in regards to Eminem's story. Coming out of addiction and depression, and to release this album felt like a bit of a slap in the face. Plus, the really obnoxious accent he brought back wasn't welcome in the first place for me. However, Beautiful is one of my favorite tracks and highlights the needless addition of the other 19 songs.
The Slim Shady LP -- this may get me in some trouble, but I didn't care for this album when I was in my prime immature stage. Despite the borderline obnoxious tone, I still find it in my heart to enjoy My Name Is.
Encore -- most likely the most schizo Eminem has ever been, with half the album sounding like a confession and the other half sounding like a series of raps designed to appeal to children. Still, Mockingbird, Never Enough, Like Toy Soldiers and Yellow Brick Road remain among some of my favorite tracks.
The Marshall Mathers LP -- I didn't listen to the entirety of this album until a few years ago. I must say, listening to this all the way through helped. The Real Slim Shady, The Way I Am, and especially Stan offered a serious of dark tracks packed with emotion. I will admit that much of the content has made me uncomfortable as of late, and I have never been able to listen to Kim; I find it too emotionally traumatic.
Recovery -- this is the album I wish Eminem had released instead of Relapse. While certainly not in his lyrical prime, Eminem nonetheless shows a strong introspection that was sorely needed in Relapse. My favorite tracks include Not Afraid, No Love, Space Bound, Cinderella Man, 25 to Life, Talking 2 Myself and Love the Way You Lie.
The Eminem Show -- frankly, this album was the one that hit me square in the head. Combining the hit-or-miss introspection in his previous works with the aggression needed to hit my adrenal glands, Em simply nailed this one. A perfect mixture of rage and regret. 'Til I Collapse, White America, Business, Cleaning Out My Closet, Sing for the Moment and Without Me are still on my main Em playlist.
Onto the actual MMLP2 review.
The way I structure my film reviews doesn't really work here, so I have created something new. Hope you are able to track with me.
THE CROWN
Flying above the album, judging it from a special perspective, the album is fairly strong. It includes a mixture of tracks and perspectives, and doesn't overstay it's welcome. While I find myself cringing during certain tracks, overall my thoughts are generally positive. I won't be speaking on every single track, as I prefer to focus on the best representations of each category.
THE GOOD
The highlights are several fold. Eminem's lyricism and introspection are welcome as usual, and he delves into deeper territory than before.
Before I can jump into the specifics of the album, I must begin with the opening track, Bad Guy. A sequel of sorts to Stan, this track is the most difficult one to sit through, and is thus the most rewarding. It sets the stage for the remainder of the album. While I don't want to spoil it too much, the finale completely subverts a majority of his rapping career in terms of themes. The homphobia, misogyny, all of it is presented as something he is now entirely aware of. The final two minutes is the most self-eviscerating and scorching minutes of music I've ever heard. Its simply something waiting to be experienced, and you do yourself a disservice if you miss it.
Legacy, with its haunting chorus, is a strong compliment to Eminem's reflection of bullying in his past. Nostalgia suits him well, and we're given glimpses into his childhood.
While Survival isn't particularly innovative like Bad Guy, the rock track works nicely and helped me press twenty extra pounds while at the gym. So it suits itself well, and I find myself enjoying it.
Berzerk, as I mentioned a while back, took me a few listens to get it. Once that happened, its become one of my favorite tracks. The energy and free-falling fun is far too fun to ignore. Rick Rubin nailed this one.
Rap God is another track I reviewed and my opinion has grown. It is lyrically insane and the beat works nicely while running. His 97 minute blitzkrieg in 15 seconds is, well, something to behold.
Stronger Than I Was is an incredibly vulnerable tale of Eminem and his wife Kim. The vitriol is largely absent and this almost reads like a letter of regret to someone who hurt him. The openness reveals the humanity behind the guy who wrote Kim. While hope is in short supply, the track is revealing and the sung chorus is laden with emotion.
In the same way, Headlights (sung by the dude from fun. so don't let that be a negative) nearly had me in tears, I can't lie. My wife, who enjoys some of Eminem, found it incredibly moving. So, just keep a tissue nearby.
So Far … is funny and, well, just damn odd. Its a clear throw back to Slim Shady. It depends on how much you enjoy Slim. I don't like him, but this had me laughing, especially with the country vibe.
While The Monster isn't as good as Love the Way You Lie, Rhianna always sounds nice when paired with Eminem.
THE MIDDLE
Asshole is one of those tracks that probably sounded great on paper, but doesn't lend itself to multiple listens. The throw back to his rapping past where he was, well, an asshole isn't really worthwhile. But, that said, the beat is beastly and Skylar Grey is good as usual.
Eminem sings on Rhyme or Reason. While I enjoyed the chorus interpolation, the lyrics are relatively uninteresting and I haven't found myself listening to the track again. Of course, his references to his father provide a bit of food for thought.
Brainless is curiously listenable, even though I hated hated hated it when I first heard it. The story telling of Eminem's past is intriguing, but the beat really bothers me still.
Love Game is most like the most offensive track in regards to Eminem's view of women. The sexualized lyrics aren't atypical of rap, but they feel out of place. That said, holy crap some of these lines are hysterical. Kendrick Lamar echoes Eminem nicely, and this brings to mind Kendrick's freestyle that got him in hot water.
THE BAD
Parking Lot is annoying, even if one understands the context of the skit. Its simply unnecessary.
So Much Better claims a pretty epic beat, but the tirade against a woman (lover? general women?) is tired and eye-rolling. Likewise, Evil Twin is Slim Shady gone wrong.
CONTEX/NT
While the homophobia and misogyny is unneeded, Eminem shows an acute awareness of this. Instead of being an album that celebrates such things, at most all we can claim now is that he is inconsistent.
END
Despite some severely obnoxious tracks and unfortunate content, Eminem nailed this one. The introspection has been lifted almost to center stage and Eminem's production is unique, curious and most often compelling. Lyrically and technically, he's as good as he's ever been and in the case of Rap God and Bad Guy, far greater.
Where does MMLP2 fit into my above scale of worst to best albums? I'd stick it as better than Recovery and beneath The Eminem Show.
4 stars out of 5.
--Nick
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Oldboy (2013), A Review
*spoilers to follow*
What I will attempt in this review is to showcase similarities and contrasts in both films. I will admit up front that I refuse to own the original film. This is not because I don't consider it to be among my top twenty or so, or because I find it repulsive (though there is certainly repulsive content in it; not the point). Rather, it is because I can recall the horror and vicarious nature of over seventy percent of the film upon simply reflection. I find it too effective to watch or own. Once was enough.
Just setting up my background so this review may make more sense.
Joe Doucett (Josh Brolin) is not known as much of a saint. In fact, when we first meet him, he's the type of person from whom you wouldn't buy a used car. Which is why a man named Adrian Pryce (Sharlto Copley) wants him to suffer, locking him away for twenty years in a room, tormenting him with silence, regret and really really bad pot stickers.
TECHNICAL
I will contrast the two films (03 and 13) with reference to "original" and "revision."
The original film was stark, poetic and largely silent when it needed to be. The lighting was a haunting palette of saturated greens and rich yellows which reflected the sallow nature of the lurid material. It had, for lack of a better term, a pulpy feel.
The revision has largely stripped away much of the color palette and, with this, the sometimes needed warmth. The editing is quicker, more frantic, lending the film a far more jarring feel that I feel was necessary. Within the revision, the shots alternate between hyper-film school (a few long takes done generally well) and fairly standard. In other words, it reflects a far more stripped down thriller rather than the more meditate state of the original.
But, the most interesting component was kept (at least one of the more impressive action set pieces appears in both versions), and that was the hallway slug fest. In the original, it was sometimes telegraphed with poor/no contact made. However, in keeping the shot slow and moving at the speed of the fight, the original kept us far more engaged with the protagonist. This results in the audience feeling weakened when he is weak, in pain when he is in pain.
In the revision, the choreography is largely improved upon, and it looked as if much of it was done in one take. The blows are convincing, the stabbings more pointed. Pun somewhat intended. However, the frantic nature of these revision fights (one of the few instances of genuine excitement in the film) did reduce it to a far more standard action scene,l though mildly undone by the uncut nature of the fight.
My lack of excitement can be largely summed up in the idiom, "it worked better before. Now its just noise."
NARRATIVE
In the original, you have the incest reveal at the end. This included, if memory serves me right, only the siblings. This kept the story more intimate, but it did beg some questions as to how this could be kept a secret amongst a family. Though, possibly, it did add to the tension. So consider this a reflection rather than an argument.
In this revision, the subplot is expanded to include the father, who was having sex with the antagonist (Copley in this version) and with his sister. It is also intimated that he was intimate with his sister. The subplot works better in that it creates an air of consistency as well as expanding the nature of Pryce's sins and generational exploits.
So the revision, I think, improves upon the reveal. However, the way this is *revealed* is rather poor: we are literally walked through the steps and I imagine the audience will have figured things out *long* before Joe has. In the original, I had no idea until it had to be explained to me. Here, though likely because I knew the original ending, the finale is lackluster and rather dull.
So the finale is more emotionally traumatic in the original, and the subplot expansion helps the revision lend itself some credence.
In regards to acting, I don't think Brolin can live up to Min-sik Choi's iconic performance. This in no way impugns Brolin's talent, and he enlivens an otherwise averagely-written role. Copley is a difficult performance to evaluate, and will likely divide fans more than the changes I've noted above. In my opinion, I think the character is grating until the end, and Copley makes him truly despondent and sly, though like Brolin, his performance is overshadowed by the original. The rest of the cast is, sadly, forgettable.
In regards the original, pacing was an issue for me. I did feel 20 minutes could've been sacrificed. Berardinelli makes the same point in his review. However, I think the poignancy of the original was that it took it's sweet time. The revision, once Joe is set free, barrels along at such a pace that character development is reduced to reaction and overreaction. Joe does nothing except search the Internet (or have someone else do it) and then figure out something that was incredibly easy to find. The way the plot was laid out reminded me of the way one roughly unfurls a rug: just roll the whole thing out all the way and then walk over it. The original, instead, was more interested in unfolding the rug, one side at a time.
So the result is mixed. The revision removes much of the character depth and nuance for the sake of headbanging it's way to the finale. The original, for its faults, had patience for a finale that was generally worth waiting for.
The writing has some killer lines, but is otherwise unmemorable. Simply, there is no true suspense because everything is laid out for Joe to find. Its simplified to the point of being telegraphed a mile away.
THEMATIC
Actions result in consequences. A snide insult can lead to a lifetime of sadness and guilt. In the original, we have true reflection in that the protagonist has to completely confront his inner self, his inner darkness. His list because a vomit transubstantiation. His salvation is partly due to his regurgitation of the past. Here, the sins of the past are largely brushed over to Joe until the end.
I remember thinking about the doctrine of sin when I watched the original, sitting alone in my dorm room, staring at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I had just watched. I felt as if I needed to flush my system with purell. The level of depravity and wretchedness on display haunted me as it forced me to reconsider my life, what it meant be to human and what it called into question about myself. In some sense, the film (original and revision) is meant as a reflection on the nature of depraved recoil. Or karma even.
What does it mean to sin, and what does it mean to enact retribution? A sin while drunk can lead to nothing of note, or it could lead to disaster. A sin with a heavy hand deserves the downfall of one's self, and a sin with a low hand invites ridicule. The retribution of Pryce upon Joe is, in a way, characteristic of how we all view the world: do unto others as they did unto you. Feast upon them before they can grab a fork.
The film invites you to live vicariously through injustice, perversion, pain and sorrow. It invites you to look, and defies you to look away.
CONCLUSION
So, in summation, the revision does make some needed tweaks. However, it sacrifices far too much in the process. It sacrifices the characters for shells, it lessens the impact upon the protagonist and the denouement feels like a cop out, for me at least.
Joe pays them to put him back in the room to live out the rest of his days, whereas in the original, you have a logical conclusion to a soulless man. Here, it feels like an attempt to redeem Joe, which I am normally in favor of. But, I am reminded that just because someone does something good doesn't remove the stain of recoil. Something has to give.
Hopefully, it isn't us.
--Nick
APPENDIX I
These are brief notes I scribbled down while watching the revision.
The hit woman for Pryce is not only highly sexualized, but serves no purpose other than to walk around half naked and be brutally killed. I was bothered by this, and I'm not certain if I am overstating my thoughts. But I was disturbed by how inconsequential she served the plot except to provide pretty skin.
APPENDIX II
I cannot give this a star rating. Not because I don't believe in a numerical system, but because I simply cannot decide what I would rate this film. The content and the nature of how the film is makes it incredibly difficult for me. I just don't know how to rate the film. The original had the same effect on me. I just don't know how to measure the film.
Technically, both are fairly strong. Narratively, there are glaring complementary weaknesses and strengths. Thematically, the same. The original had a profound effect on me, whereas the revision lacks a heart and soul.
What I will attempt in this review is to showcase similarities and contrasts in both films. I will admit up front that I refuse to own the original film. This is not because I don't consider it to be among my top twenty or so, or because I find it repulsive (though there is certainly repulsive content in it; not the point). Rather, it is because I can recall the horror and vicarious nature of over seventy percent of the film upon simply reflection. I find it too effective to watch or own. Once was enough.
Just setting up my background so this review may make more sense.
Joe Doucett (Josh Brolin) is not known as much of a saint. In fact, when we first meet him, he's the type of person from whom you wouldn't buy a used car. Which is why a man named Adrian Pryce (Sharlto Copley) wants him to suffer, locking him away for twenty years in a room, tormenting him with silence, regret and really really bad pot stickers.
TECHNICAL
I will contrast the two films (03 and 13) with reference to "original" and "revision."
The original film was stark, poetic and largely silent when it needed to be. The lighting was a haunting palette of saturated greens and rich yellows which reflected the sallow nature of the lurid material. It had, for lack of a better term, a pulpy feel.
The revision has largely stripped away much of the color palette and, with this, the sometimes needed warmth. The editing is quicker, more frantic, lending the film a far more jarring feel that I feel was necessary. Within the revision, the shots alternate between hyper-film school (a few long takes done generally well) and fairly standard. In other words, it reflects a far more stripped down thriller rather than the more meditate state of the original.
But, the most interesting component was kept (at least one of the more impressive action set pieces appears in both versions), and that was the hallway slug fest. In the original, it was sometimes telegraphed with poor/no contact made. However, in keeping the shot slow and moving at the speed of the fight, the original kept us far more engaged with the protagonist. This results in the audience feeling weakened when he is weak, in pain when he is in pain.
In the revision, the choreography is largely improved upon, and it looked as if much of it was done in one take. The blows are convincing, the stabbings more pointed. Pun somewhat intended. However, the frantic nature of these revision fights (one of the few instances of genuine excitement in the film) did reduce it to a far more standard action scene,l though mildly undone by the uncut nature of the fight.
My lack of excitement can be largely summed up in the idiom, "it worked better before. Now its just noise."
NARRATIVE
In the original, you have the incest reveal at the end. This included, if memory serves me right, only the siblings. This kept the story more intimate, but it did beg some questions as to how this could be kept a secret amongst a family. Though, possibly, it did add to the tension. So consider this a reflection rather than an argument.
In this revision, the subplot is expanded to include the father, who was having sex with the antagonist (Copley in this version) and with his sister. It is also intimated that he was intimate with his sister. The subplot works better in that it creates an air of consistency as well as expanding the nature of Pryce's sins and generational exploits.
So the revision, I think, improves upon the reveal. However, the way this is *revealed* is rather poor: we are literally walked through the steps and I imagine the audience will have figured things out *long* before Joe has. In the original, I had no idea until it had to be explained to me. Here, though likely because I knew the original ending, the finale is lackluster and rather dull.
So the finale is more emotionally traumatic in the original, and the subplot expansion helps the revision lend itself some credence.
In regards to acting, I don't think Brolin can live up to Min-sik Choi's iconic performance. This in no way impugns Brolin's talent, and he enlivens an otherwise averagely-written role. Copley is a difficult performance to evaluate, and will likely divide fans more than the changes I've noted above. In my opinion, I think the character is grating until the end, and Copley makes him truly despondent and sly, though like Brolin, his performance is overshadowed by the original. The rest of the cast is, sadly, forgettable.
In regards the original, pacing was an issue for me. I did feel 20 minutes could've been sacrificed. Berardinelli makes the same point in his review. However, I think the poignancy of the original was that it took it's sweet time. The revision, once Joe is set free, barrels along at such a pace that character development is reduced to reaction and overreaction. Joe does nothing except search the Internet (or have someone else do it) and then figure out something that was incredibly easy to find. The way the plot was laid out reminded me of the way one roughly unfurls a rug: just roll the whole thing out all the way and then walk over it. The original, instead, was more interested in unfolding the rug, one side at a time.
So the result is mixed. The revision removes much of the character depth and nuance for the sake of headbanging it's way to the finale. The original, for its faults, had patience for a finale that was generally worth waiting for.
The writing has some killer lines, but is otherwise unmemorable. Simply, there is no true suspense because everything is laid out for Joe to find. Its simplified to the point of being telegraphed a mile away.
THEMATIC
Actions result in consequences. A snide insult can lead to a lifetime of sadness and guilt. In the original, we have true reflection in that the protagonist has to completely confront his inner self, his inner darkness. His list because a vomit transubstantiation. His salvation is partly due to his regurgitation of the past. Here, the sins of the past are largely brushed over to Joe until the end.
I remember thinking about the doctrine of sin when I watched the original, sitting alone in my dorm room, staring at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I had just watched. I felt as if I needed to flush my system with purell. The level of depravity and wretchedness on display haunted me as it forced me to reconsider my life, what it meant be to human and what it called into question about myself. In some sense, the film (original and revision) is meant as a reflection on the nature of depraved recoil. Or karma even.
What does it mean to sin, and what does it mean to enact retribution? A sin while drunk can lead to nothing of note, or it could lead to disaster. A sin with a heavy hand deserves the downfall of one's self, and a sin with a low hand invites ridicule. The retribution of Pryce upon Joe is, in a way, characteristic of how we all view the world: do unto others as they did unto you. Feast upon them before they can grab a fork.
The film invites you to live vicariously through injustice, perversion, pain and sorrow. It invites you to look, and defies you to look away.
CONCLUSION
So, in summation, the revision does make some needed tweaks. However, it sacrifices far too much in the process. It sacrifices the characters for shells, it lessens the impact upon the protagonist and the denouement feels like a cop out, for me at least.
Joe pays them to put him back in the room to live out the rest of his days, whereas in the original, you have a logical conclusion to a soulless man. Here, it feels like an attempt to redeem Joe, which I am normally in favor of. But, I am reminded that just because someone does something good doesn't remove the stain of recoil. Something has to give.
Hopefully, it isn't us.
--Nick
APPENDIX I
These are brief notes I scribbled down while watching the revision.
The hit woman for Pryce is not only highly sexualized, but serves no purpose other than to walk around half naked and be brutally killed. I was bothered by this, and I'm not certain if I am overstating my thoughts. But I was disturbed by how inconsequential she served the plot except to provide pretty skin.
APPENDIX II
I cannot give this a star rating. Not because I don't believe in a numerical system, but because I simply cannot decide what I would rate this film. The content and the nature of how the film is makes it incredibly difficult for me. I just don't know how to rate the film. The original had the same effect on me. I just don't know how to measure the film.
Technically, both are fairly strong. Narratively, there are glaring complementary weaknesses and strengths. Thematically, the same. The original had a profound effect on me, whereas the revision lacks a heart and soul.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Thor: The Dark World, a Review
I know I'm a week late on this one, but in my defense, I had to marshal up a lot of desire to sit through a film I was moderately sure I wouldn't enjoy. I'm far more of a "Batman" or "Punisher" kind of comic book lover, but I do enjoy the odd cheese-ball that Marvel can occasionally put forth.
Thor: The Dark World, is a film about a nasty substance that looks like a liquid form of what we call, the macguffin. It's nasty, its mean and you are pretty sure you don't want it inside you. Other than that, some villains want it and its up to the bumbling nilly Thor to save the day. While bringing along the real reason we're all here: Loki.
TECHNICAL
The film certainly looks pretty, for the most part. Asgard is nicely rendered, if a bit futuristic LotR-y. But still. Looks nice and pretty in the morning sun. The other realms are unmemorable, with one just looking like a dirty schoolyard sandbox. Thor flies around and smashes stuff, throws his mighty hammer about and ultimately, saves…something.
Seriously. It does look rather nice. I enjoyed the makeup on that Doctor Who dude.
NARRATIVE
Ultimately for me, I though the film faltered most here. The first half has some amusing moments, and the film seems to work best when it isn't blowing stuff up and instead focuses on the supreme goofiness of a flying goldilocks swinging a massive hammer. Him using the Subway, while funny in a broad sense, is more of less unnecessary when you think that he can kinda fly.
Maybe what I disliked most about the film was that it really doesn't need to exist. The character drama is largely bulky and superficial, with Stellan Skarsgard being reduced to running around barely clothed, Darcy quipping about interns and Jane Foster being, well, just hanging around. The aether, which is a killer, does very little to effect her except make her sleepy. Sounds more like a depressant than a world killer. I did make my wife laugh when I intoned that the main villain was the 'anti-Logos.' Given that his motivation is as emotionally investing as a dead cat swinging from a ceiling fan, I suspect that inserting said dead cat would've enlivened the final battle.
Actually, watching Thor beat a dead animal kinda sums up my feelings on the film as a whole.
THEMATIC
Well, I suppose that Thor giving up his birthright could've been explored in a meaningful way. The first Thor, flawed as it was, did portray him as someone who needed to grow up. Here, he makes decisions mostly out of screenwriting necessity. He seems to be simply an agent to move us between set pieces. The little moments of Thor acting 'human' are genuinely fun. Hanging the hammer up is one of those said moments. When the 'gods' act human, they tend to be more interesting. Here, they are detached to the point of being laughably tedious.
Anthony Hopkins and Idris Elba are fun, if underused as usual. The use of darkness and light as reoccurring motifs is fun, when they mention it, mostly because I get to intone my previously mentioned 'anti-Logos' comment. Usually resulting in my wife laughing.
CONCLUSION
Seriously though, there is plenty of material here that could've been mined to create a worthwhile action flick. This is not to say that the film isn't fun enough, or that there aren't some LOL moments. But beside the few moments of genuinely funny/intriguing material are washed over by an ocean of "well, I didn't expect them to not do much of this anyway so I can't be disappointed." Loki is really the only reason to watch this.
Of course, watching my sister twitter in delight whenever he was on-screen almost made up for the rest of this film.
2 stars out of 5.
--Nick
Thor: The Dark World, is a film about a nasty substance that looks like a liquid form of what we call, the macguffin. It's nasty, its mean and you are pretty sure you don't want it inside you. Other than that, some villains want it and its up to the bumbling nilly Thor to save the day. While bringing along the real reason we're all here: Loki.
TECHNICAL
The film certainly looks pretty, for the most part. Asgard is nicely rendered, if a bit futuristic LotR-y. But still. Looks nice and pretty in the morning sun. The other realms are unmemorable, with one just looking like a dirty schoolyard sandbox. Thor flies around and smashes stuff, throws his mighty hammer about and ultimately, saves…something.
Seriously. It does look rather nice. I enjoyed the makeup on that Doctor Who dude.
NARRATIVE
Ultimately for me, I though the film faltered most here. The first half has some amusing moments, and the film seems to work best when it isn't blowing stuff up and instead focuses on the supreme goofiness of a flying goldilocks swinging a massive hammer. Him using the Subway, while funny in a broad sense, is more of less unnecessary when you think that he can kinda fly.
Maybe what I disliked most about the film was that it really doesn't need to exist. The character drama is largely bulky and superficial, with Stellan Skarsgard being reduced to running around barely clothed, Darcy quipping about interns and Jane Foster being, well, just hanging around. The aether, which is a killer, does very little to effect her except make her sleepy. Sounds more like a depressant than a world killer. I did make my wife laugh when I intoned that the main villain was the 'anti-Logos.' Given that his motivation is as emotionally investing as a dead cat swinging from a ceiling fan, I suspect that inserting said dead cat would've enlivened the final battle.
Actually, watching Thor beat a dead animal kinda sums up my feelings on the film as a whole.
THEMATIC
Well, I suppose that Thor giving up his birthright could've been explored in a meaningful way. The first Thor, flawed as it was, did portray him as someone who needed to grow up. Here, he makes decisions mostly out of screenwriting necessity. He seems to be simply an agent to move us between set pieces. The little moments of Thor acting 'human' are genuinely fun. Hanging the hammer up is one of those said moments. When the 'gods' act human, they tend to be more interesting. Here, they are detached to the point of being laughably tedious.
Anthony Hopkins and Idris Elba are fun, if underused as usual. The use of darkness and light as reoccurring motifs is fun, when they mention it, mostly because I get to intone my previously mentioned 'anti-Logos' comment. Usually resulting in my wife laughing.
CONCLUSION
Seriously though, there is plenty of material here that could've been mined to create a worthwhile action flick. This is not to say that the film isn't fun enough, or that there aren't some LOL moments. But beside the few moments of genuinely funny/intriguing material are washed over by an ocean of "well, I didn't expect them to not do much of this anyway so I can't be disappointed." Loki is really the only reason to watch this.
Of course, watching my sister twitter in delight whenever he was on-screen almost made up for the rest of this film.
2 stars out of 5.
--Nick
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