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Hadley (567 KP) rated The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness in Books
Jan 18, 2021
History (1 more)
Well-written
H.H. Holmes had many aliases and lives.
He's been a doctor and a licensed pharmacist, who then conned an old couple into selling their drug store to him where he preyed on young girls and ignorant customers that would buy whatever Holmes would tell them to buy, whether it were real or fake tonics.
He was a building owner who had a murder hotel secretly built with " a wooden chute that would descend from a secret location on the second floor all the way to the basement... ", "a room next to his office fitted with a large walk-in vault, with airtight seams and asbestos-coated iron walls. A gas jet embedded in one wall would be controlled from his closet...", "a large basement with hidden chambers and a sub-basement for the permanent storage of sensitive material. "
He owned and ran an alcohol-treatment company known as the Silver Ash Institute that claimed to have the cure for alcoholism.
He was a traveling business man, who had two wives and two children. He established the Campbell-Yates Manufacturing Company, which made nothing and sold nothing.
He was also labeled as America's first serial killer. His body count is unknown even today; his victims were frequently young women, which included stenographers and house wives. He was best known for convincing people who trusted him to sign him as the beneficiary of their life insurance policies, only to kill them and make it seem an accident so he could collect the money.
Holmes grew up in a small farming village in New Hampshire, where he briefly spoke about an early fear of a human skeleton that hung in a doctor's office: " 'I had daily to pass the office of one village doctor, the door of which was seldom if ever barred,' he wrote in a later memoir. 'Partly from its being associated in my mind as the source of all the nauseous mixtures that had been my childish terror (for this was before the day of children's medicines), and partly because of vague rumors I had heard regarding its contents, this place was one of peculiar abhorrence to me.' "... "Two children discovered Mudgett's [Holmes' real last name] fear and one day captured him and dragged him 'struggling and shrieking' into the doctor's office. 'Nor did they desist,' Mudgett wrote, 'until I had been brought face to face with one of its grinning skeletons, which, with arms outstretched, seemed ready in its turn to seize me. It was a wicked and dangerous thing to do to a child of tender years and health,' he wrote, ' but it proved an heroic method of treatment, destined ultimately to cure me of my fears, and to inculcate in me, first, a strong feeling of curiosity, and, later, a desire to learn, which resulted years afterwards in my adopting medicine as a profession.' "
Erik Larson's fourth book, the Devil in the White City, is only partly about Holmes and his dark trail of murder and lies. The story told is mostly centered around the planning and building of the 1893 World's Fair. The prologue opens with one of the architects aboard a ship long after the fair has ended - - - 1912 to be exact- - - where he begins to write of the fair in his diary. The next chapter continues on with Chicago competing against other major cities to win the rights to host the World's Fair. Chicago was not the ideal place for the fair because it was known for it's crime and slaughter houses - - - this was exactly why the politicians wanted it so badly there, so it would help to lighten the image of Chicago for the rest of the world. Even the local Whitechapel Club that had sprouted up after the infamous murders by Jack the Ripper, were excited to win the rights to host the fair in their city, and celebrated in a macabre way:
"Upon learning that Chicago had won the fair, the men of the Whitechapel Club composed a telegram to Chauncey Depew, who more than any other man symbolized New York and its campaign to win the fair. Previously Depew had promised the members of the Whitechapel Club that if Chicago prevailed he would present himself at the club's next meeting, to be hacked apart by the Ripper himself - - - metaphorically, he presumed, although at the Whitechapel Club could one ever be certain? The club's coffin, for example, had once been used to transport the body of a member who had committed suicide. After claiming his body, the club hauled it to the Indiana Dunes on Lake Michigan, where members erected an immense pyre. They placed the body on top, then set it alight. Carrying torches and wearing black hooded robes, they circled the fire singing hymns to the dead between sips of whiskey. The club also had a custom of sending robed members to kidnap visiting celebrities and steal them away in a black coach with covered windows, all without saying a word.
The club's telegram reached Depew in Washington twenty minutes after the final ballot, just as Chicago's congressional delegation began celebrating at the Willard Hotel near the White House. The telegram asked, 'When may we see you at our dissecting table?' "
There are chapters in-between, technically reading like a side story, that tell us about Holmes and his misdeeds in Chicago, but there just wasn't enough about Holmes that I could consider this a True Crime book, nor an informative book about Holmes. Unfortunately, when the reader begins to really dwell into the story of Holmes, it's quickly ended by having two or more chapters about the building of the World's Fair. One interesting point about the story is that the reader does get to see how many inventions were brought to light because of the Fair, such as the invention of the Ferris Wheel. Larson's writing is very coherent and the descriptions are so well done that the reader is practically transported back to the late 1800s, yet, before I finished the book, I felt misled by the title... then coming across everything that happened to not only the Fair, but the people who were involved with it, it's hard not to wonder if the whole thing was cursed, thus the Devil being in the White City.
One of the side stories I did really enjoy was the slow unfolding of a man named Prendergast. A delusional young man who ran one of the groups of paperboys in Chicago, who was also obsessed with politics, became a determined supporter of Mayor Harrison; after Harrison was voted into office again, Prendergast believed it was because of him and the letters he sent out to numerous politicians and potential voters. Prendergast also believed he deserved a chair on the council for Harrison's re-election, for which he even showed up at City Hall to take over. This incident was the straw that broke the camel's back for Prendergast - - - he was humiliated when the people there laughed in his face. Prendergast then decided to take matters into his own hands, and bought a revolver. The day before the Fair would end, Prendergast showed up at Harrison's home and shot him. Harrison died minutes later. Prendergast turned himself in for the murder as soon as he left Harrison's residence. When asked why he had done it, Prendergast responded: " ' Because he betrayed my confidence. I supported him through his campaign and he promised to appoint me corporation counsel. He didn't live up to his word.' "
This book has been voted as a top True Crime must-read novel. I don't agree with this. As I said before: Holmes' chapters are few; eighty percent of this book is about the building of the World's Fair. As a True Crime junkie, I didn't enjoy this one, but also as a history junkie, I enjoyed learning about the Fair and everything that happened. I can't recommend this book to TC fans or horror fans. It's mostly history and architecture.
He's been a doctor and a licensed pharmacist, who then conned an old couple into selling their drug store to him where he preyed on young girls and ignorant customers that would buy whatever Holmes would tell them to buy, whether it were real or fake tonics.
He was a building owner who had a murder hotel secretly built with " a wooden chute that would descend from a secret location on the second floor all the way to the basement... ", "a room next to his office fitted with a large walk-in vault, with airtight seams and asbestos-coated iron walls. A gas jet embedded in one wall would be controlled from his closet...", "a large basement with hidden chambers and a sub-basement for the permanent storage of sensitive material. "
He owned and ran an alcohol-treatment company known as the Silver Ash Institute that claimed to have the cure for alcoholism.
He was a traveling business man, who had two wives and two children. He established the Campbell-Yates Manufacturing Company, which made nothing and sold nothing.
He was also labeled as America's first serial killer. His body count is unknown even today; his victims were frequently young women, which included stenographers and house wives. He was best known for convincing people who trusted him to sign him as the beneficiary of their life insurance policies, only to kill them and make it seem an accident so he could collect the money.
Holmes grew up in a small farming village in New Hampshire, where he briefly spoke about an early fear of a human skeleton that hung in a doctor's office: " 'I had daily to pass the office of one village doctor, the door of which was seldom if ever barred,' he wrote in a later memoir. 'Partly from its being associated in my mind as the source of all the nauseous mixtures that had been my childish terror (for this was before the day of children's medicines), and partly because of vague rumors I had heard regarding its contents, this place was one of peculiar abhorrence to me.' "... "Two children discovered Mudgett's [Holmes' real last name] fear and one day captured him and dragged him 'struggling and shrieking' into the doctor's office. 'Nor did they desist,' Mudgett wrote, 'until I had been brought face to face with one of its grinning skeletons, which, with arms outstretched, seemed ready in its turn to seize me. It was a wicked and dangerous thing to do to a child of tender years and health,' he wrote, ' but it proved an heroic method of treatment, destined ultimately to cure me of my fears, and to inculcate in me, first, a strong feeling of curiosity, and, later, a desire to learn, which resulted years afterwards in my adopting medicine as a profession.' "
Erik Larson's fourth book, the Devil in the White City, is only partly about Holmes and his dark trail of murder and lies. The story told is mostly centered around the planning and building of the 1893 World's Fair. The prologue opens with one of the architects aboard a ship long after the fair has ended - - - 1912 to be exact- - - where he begins to write of the fair in his diary. The next chapter continues on with Chicago competing against other major cities to win the rights to host the World's Fair. Chicago was not the ideal place for the fair because it was known for it's crime and slaughter houses - - - this was exactly why the politicians wanted it so badly there, so it would help to lighten the image of Chicago for the rest of the world. Even the local Whitechapel Club that had sprouted up after the infamous murders by Jack the Ripper, were excited to win the rights to host the fair in their city, and celebrated in a macabre way:
"Upon learning that Chicago had won the fair, the men of the Whitechapel Club composed a telegram to Chauncey Depew, who more than any other man symbolized New York and its campaign to win the fair. Previously Depew had promised the members of the Whitechapel Club that if Chicago prevailed he would present himself at the club's next meeting, to be hacked apart by the Ripper himself - - - metaphorically, he presumed, although at the Whitechapel Club could one ever be certain? The club's coffin, for example, had once been used to transport the body of a member who had committed suicide. After claiming his body, the club hauled it to the Indiana Dunes on Lake Michigan, where members erected an immense pyre. They placed the body on top, then set it alight. Carrying torches and wearing black hooded robes, they circled the fire singing hymns to the dead between sips of whiskey. The club also had a custom of sending robed members to kidnap visiting celebrities and steal them away in a black coach with covered windows, all without saying a word.
The club's telegram reached Depew in Washington twenty minutes after the final ballot, just as Chicago's congressional delegation began celebrating at the Willard Hotel near the White House. The telegram asked, 'When may we see you at our dissecting table?' "
There are chapters in-between, technically reading like a side story, that tell us about Holmes and his misdeeds in Chicago, but there just wasn't enough about Holmes that I could consider this a True Crime book, nor an informative book about Holmes. Unfortunately, when the reader begins to really dwell into the story of Holmes, it's quickly ended by having two or more chapters about the building of the World's Fair. One interesting point about the story is that the reader does get to see how many inventions were brought to light because of the Fair, such as the invention of the Ferris Wheel. Larson's writing is very coherent and the descriptions are so well done that the reader is practically transported back to the late 1800s, yet, before I finished the book, I felt misled by the title... then coming across everything that happened to not only the Fair, but the people who were involved with it, it's hard not to wonder if the whole thing was cursed, thus the Devil being in the White City.
One of the side stories I did really enjoy was the slow unfolding of a man named Prendergast. A delusional young man who ran one of the groups of paperboys in Chicago, who was also obsessed with politics, became a determined supporter of Mayor Harrison; after Harrison was voted into office again, Prendergast believed it was because of him and the letters he sent out to numerous politicians and potential voters. Prendergast also believed he deserved a chair on the council for Harrison's re-election, for which he even showed up at City Hall to take over. This incident was the straw that broke the camel's back for Prendergast - - - he was humiliated when the people there laughed in his face. Prendergast then decided to take matters into his own hands, and bought a revolver. The day before the Fair would end, Prendergast showed up at Harrison's home and shot him. Harrison died minutes later. Prendergast turned himself in for the murder as soon as he left Harrison's residence. When asked why he had done it, Prendergast responded: " ' Because he betrayed my confidence. I supported him through his campaign and he promised to appoint me corporation counsel. He didn't live up to his word.' "
This book has been voted as a top True Crime must-read novel. I don't agree with this. As I said before: Holmes' chapters are few; eighty percent of this book is about the building of the World's Fair. As a True Crime junkie, I didn't enjoy this one, but also as a history junkie, I enjoyed learning about the Fair and everything that happened. I can't recommend this book to TC fans or horror fans. It's mostly history and architecture.
Kirk Bage (1775 KP) rated The Mandalorian in TV
Jan 22, 2021 (Updated Jan 22, 2021)
Being a child of Star Wars, born in ’73, whose first memory of a cinema was A New Hope in ’77, of course the entire franchise is still close to my heart. I am no superfan, however. I do not need to remember every name of every character, or know the obscure names of planets to enjoy it. I remember that deeply competitive nature back in the playground – how important it was to prove Star Wars was yours by knowing more than any other kid! Fortunately I managed to let that go shortly after The Return of the Jedi. Ok, maybe 1995.
The Mandalorian is definitely for all Star Wars fans, but it is mostly for the kids that never grew up and need those details of “the canonical Star Wars” universe in their lives. And there are plenty of them. It is a geek’s wet dream! With chat rooms and fan sites going wild in debate and argument over the smallest of Easter eggs and hints to connections across the medium. As if this is a lost historical document that sheds light on the truth of many characters and events, that until now were shrouded in darkness and speculation only.
I find that phenomenon weird and a little creepy, but I do appreciate where it comes from. For me, I am merely glad it isn’t crap. It is nice to be in the Star Wars universe without holding your face in your hands for shame of lazy storytelling and moments that shit on the spirit of the original trilogy. The first thing that pleased me about The Mandolorian is how close it is in feel to the old school trilogy. In fact it surprised me, because, despite the very modern effects and full budget of Disney behind it, it feels very old fashioned, like a TV show from around 1986, maybe. And I wonder how they have achieved that every time I watch it. It has an intangible magic about it.
In fact, the feel of the show as a whole is often a little cheap, shockingly – the posters and toys and all associated media is as glossy and crisp as all money can afford, creating an image of the show that isn’t actually what the show is. In reality it is a cross between old spaghetti westerns, with The Mandalorian cast as The Man With No Name, and episodes of The A-Team or Knightrider. I kinda like it; very nostalgic, and a smart move by Jon Favreau and the other show-runners. It appeals to middle aged audiences and new alike, because it is a knowing hybrid of all things cool and nerdy!
Design-wise, the look of The Mandalorian himself is perfect fan bait and very cool. The music goes a long way to drawing you in – Ludwig Göransson, known for his work on Black Panther and Tenet, has hit on a career defining theme that blends Clint Eastwood and Star Wars in perfect harmony. I can’t imagine the show working half as well without that theme music! The spaceships and detail of every alien and weapon and costume is meticulous (if at times a little wobbly or cheap looking), and the wider feel of background and tertiary characters is pretty damn good.
But, let’s face it… The Mandalorian is the success it has been predominantly for one reason. I could give him his real name, but if you haven’t finished it yet that would count as a huge spoiler, so I will refer to him as The Child. The temptation to use the phrase Baby Yoda is hard to resist, and has been a cultural phenomenon that only comes along once or twice in a decade, but on this I agree with the fans: it is inaccurate and misleading. The Child is fine. It’ll do until you learn his true moniker.
In season one, where the build up of story, character and mystery is superb, we see very little of The Child at first. But we cannot take our eyes off him for every second he is on screen. The whole concept is so beyond cute and incredibly strong as a hook for a Star Wars story it is almost impossible not to squeal out loud at everything he does. Who is he? Why is he? What is he capable of? How will he fit in to the longterm idea for the story? So exciting, and total genius to keep everyone watching.
It isn’t all about The Child on his own though. It is about the unlikely symbiotic bond, like father and son, that develops between the tiny, vulnerable and childlike focal point, and the increasingly confident and loyal antihero, who will stop at nothing to protect his ward, as he struggles to find his own place in the universe. After a very short time, we care more about this relationship than 90% of all romances in all of TV history.
Through danger, mayhem and a touch of comedy, we grow to adore the two of them together, and can’t bear to think of them being apart. Some trick when you realise The Child is as much a mini-muppet style prosthetic as it is added CGI for expression and detail. Perhaps another callback to our 80s sensibilities, when we accepted ETs and Gremlins and all of the residents of Mos Eisley’s cantina as real without hesitation. It doesn’t have to look real, is the point, as long as it fits the story, is cool and is fun! Which The Child totally is – for entertainment value they have got the tone of the show so right.
What doesn’t hold up that strongly to critical scrutiny though is quite a lot of the scripts, the repetitive nature of the context of many episodes and missions the duo find themselves on, the mismatch quality of the guest directors abilities, and quite a lot of the dodgy acting by supporting characters. It’s as if at some production meeting at one early point they all said, look it’s Star Wars, we make the aliens and the spaceships and the weapons look good and we can’t fail… plus we have The Child and Boba Fett’s (yes, I know) armour, we can’t fail!
The basic storyline is enough to hook it on, just about, it is the detail that sometimes feels weak and lazy. But don’t worry, any minute something cool to look at and a big fight will happen, so we’re all good! I’m sure Pedro Pascal (the actor under the armour) can’t believe his luck! He is one of the biggest stars in TV all of a sudden, for basically doing a fairly monotone voice-over performance of some seriously dodgy dialogue. That is the magic of Star Wars.
So, I came to season one late, having no access at that time to Disney plus. In fact, I watched all of season one in a day the day before the launch of season two, so the switch to a new episode to look forward to suited me well. It gave me something to look forward to on a Friday between Halloween and Christmas. Trouble was that, although still having fun with the exploits of The Kid, I was starting to weary of the plotlines, and put my viewing on hold after S2E4 in favour of the far superior scripting of His Dark Materials on BBC.
I must have needed the hiatus, because when I came back to mop it up and finish season two a few days ago I realised that I had in fact missed it. It also helped that episode 5 onwards is when the season gets really good again. Rosario Dawson as Ashoka Tano (known well by fans of The Clone Wars) was a truly great addition that the show much needed by that point.
I had no trouble after that in bingeing to the end. You could feel a climax and a revelation coming, and although the character of Moff Gideon (Giancarlo Esposito) crumbled disappointly away into nothing much, the last 15 minutes of the final episode had me slack jawed in fan wonderment. I felt 9 years old again, and I loved it! I had been amazingly lucky not to stumble upon spoilers, I guess. Amazing ending, and all faults forgiven for that unforgettable moment and feel. Wonderful stuff!
To say any more, again, is to spoil. So, let’s just talk about it privately, or, you know, in about a year when season 3 is over and it is old news. Hmmm, season 3…? I wonder where they will take that now…? Actually, properly exciting, in a back in the playground kind of way.
The Mandalorian is definitely for all Star Wars fans, but it is mostly for the kids that never grew up and need those details of “the canonical Star Wars” universe in their lives. And there are plenty of them. It is a geek’s wet dream! With chat rooms and fan sites going wild in debate and argument over the smallest of Easter eggs and hints to connections across the medium. As if this is a lost historical document that sheds light on the truth of many characters and events, that until now were shrouded in darkness and speculation only.
I find that phenomenon weird and a little creepy, but I do appreciate where it comes from. For me, I am merely glad it isn’t crap. It is nice to be in the Star Wars universe without holding your face in your hands for shame of lazy storytelling and moments that shit on the spirit of the original trilogy. The first thing that pleased me about The Mandolorian is how close it is in feel to the old school trilogy. In fact it surprised me, because, despite the very modern effects and full budget of Disney behind it, it feels very old fashioned, like a TV show from around 1986, maybe. And I wonder how they have achieved that every time I watch it. It has an intangible magic about it.
In fact, the feel of the show as a whole is often a little cheap, shockingly – the posters and toys and all associated media is as glossy and crisp as all money can afford, creating an image of the show that isn’t actually what the show is. In reality it is a cross between old spaghetti westerns, with The Mandalorian cast as The Man With No Name, and episodes of The A-Team or Knightrider. I kinda like it; very nostalgic, and a smart move by Jon Favreau and the other show-runners. It appeals to middle aged audiences and new alike, because it is a knowing hybrid of all things cool and nerdy!
Design-wise, the look of The Mandalorian himself is perfect fan bait and very cool. The music goes a long way to drawing you in – Ludwig Göransson, known for his work on Black Panther and Tenet, has hit on a career defining theme that blends Clint Eastwood and Star Wars in perfect harmony. I can’t imagine the show working half as well without that theme music! The spaceships and detail of every alien and weapon and costume is meticulous (if at times a little wobbly or cheap looking), and the wider feel of background and tertiary characters is pretty damn good.
But, let’s face it… The Mandalorian is the success it has been predominantly for one reason. I could give him his real name, but if you haven’t finished it yet that would count as a huge spoiler, so I will refer to him as The Child. The temptation to use the phrase Baby Yoda is hard to resist, and has been a cultural phenomenon that only comes along once or twice in a decade, but on this I agree with the fans: it is inaccurate and misleading. The Child is fine. It’ll do until you learn his true moniker.
In season one, where the build up of story, character and mystery is superb, we see very little of The Child at first. But we cannot take our eyes off him for every second he is on screen. The whole concept is so beyond cute and incredibly strong as a hook for a Star Wars story it is almost impossible not to squeal out loud at everything he does. Who is he? Why is he? What is he capable of? How will he fit in to the longterm idea for the story? So exciting, and total genius to keep everyone watching.
It isn’t all about The Child on his own though. It is about the unlikely symbiotic bond, like father and son, that develops between the tiny, vulnerable and childlike focal point, and the increasingly confident and loyal antihero, who will stop at nothing to protect his ward, as he struggles to find his own place in the universe. After a very short time, we care more about this relationship than 90% of all romances in all of TV history.
Through danger, mayhem and a touch of comedy, we grow to adore the two of them together, and can’t bear to think of them being apart. Some trick when you realise The Child is as much a mini-muppet style prosthetic as it is added CGI for expression and detail. Perhaps another callback to our 80s sensibilities, when we accepted ETs and Gremlins and all of the residents of Mos Eisley’s cantina as real without hesitation. It doesn’t have to look real, is the point, as long as it fits the story, is cool and is fun! Which The Child totally is – for entertainment value they have got the tone of the show so right.
What doesn’t hold up that strongly to critical scrutiny though is quite a lot of the scripts, the repetitive nature of the context of many episodes and missions the duo find themselves on, the mismatch quality of the guest directors abilities, and quite a lot of the dodgy acting by supporting characters. It’s as if at some production meeting at one early point they all said, look it’s Star Wars, we make the aliens and the spaceships and the weapons look good and we can’t fail… plus we have The Child and Boba Fett’s (yes, I know) armour, we can’t fail!
The basic storyline is enough to hook it on, just about, it is the detail that sometimes feels weak and lazy. But don’t worry, any minute something cool to look at and a big fight will happen, so we’re all good! I’m sure Pedro Pascal (the actor under the armour) can’t believe his luck! He is one of the biggest stars in TV all of a sudden, for basically doing a fairly monotone voice-over performance of some seriously dodgy dialogue. That is the magic of Star Wars.
So, I came to season one late, having no access at that time to Disney plus. In fact, I watched all of season one in a day the day before the launch of season two, so the switch to a new episode to look forward to suited me well. It gave me something to look forward to on a Friday between Halloween and Christmas. Trouble was that, although still having fun with the exploits of The Kid, I was starting to weary of the plotlines, and put my viewing on hold after S2E4 in favour of the far superior scripting of His Dark Materials on BBC.
I must have needed the hiatus, because when I came back to mop it up and finish season two a few days ago I realised that I had in fact missed it. It also helped that episode 5 onwards is when the season gets really good again. Rosario Dawson as Ashoka Tano (known well by fans of The Clone Wars) was a truly great addition that the show much needed by that point.
I had no trouble after that in bingeing to the end. You could feel a climax and a revelation coming, and although the character of Moff Gideon (Giancarlo Esposito) crumbled disappointly away into nothing much, the last 15 minutes of the final episode had me slack jawed in fan wonderment. I felt 9 years old again, and I loved it! I had been amazingly lucky not to stumble upon spoilers, I guess. Amazing ending, and all faults forgiven for that unforgettable moment and feel. Wonderful stuff!
To say any more, again, is to spoil. So, let’s just talk about it privately, or, you know, in about a year when season 3 is over and it is old news. Hmmm, season 3…? I wonder where they will take that now…? Actually, properly exciting, in a back in the playground kind of way.
Cody Cook (8 KP) rated Writings Of Thomas Paine Volume 4 (1794 1796); The Age Of Reason in Books
Jun 29, 2018
Thomas Paine was a political theorist who was perhaps best known for his support for the American Revolution in his pamphlet Common Sense. In what might be his second best known work, The Age of Reason, Paine argued in favor of deism and against the Christian religion and its conception of God. By deism it is meant the belief in a creator God who does not violate the laws of nature by communicating through revelation or miracles The book was very successful and widely read partly due to the fact that it was written in a style which appealed to a popular audience and often implemented a sarcastic, derisive tone to make its points.
The book seems to have had three major objectives: the support of deism, the ridicule of what Paine found loathsome in Christian theology, and the demonstration of how poor an example the Bible is as a reflection of God.
In a sense, Paine's arguments against Christian theology and scripture were meant to prop up his deistic philosophy. Paine hoped that in demonizing Christianity while giving evidences for God, he would somehow have made the case for deism. But this is not so. If Christianity is false, but God exists nonetheless, we are not left only with deism. There are an infinite number of possibilities for us to examine regarding the nature of God, and far too many left over once we have eliminated the obviously false ones. In favor of deism Paine has only one argument—his dislike of supernatural revelation, which is to say that deism appeals to his culturally derived preferences. In any case, Paine's thinking on the matter seemed to be thus: if supernatural revelation could be shown to be inadequate and the development of complex theology shown to be an error, one could still salvage a belief in God as Creator, but not as an interloper in human affairs who required mediators.
That being said, in his support of deism, Paine makes some arguments to demonstrate the reasonableness in belief in, if not the logical necessity of the existence of, God which could be equally used by Christians.
For instance, just as the apostle Paul argued in his epistle to the Romans that, "what can be known about God is plain to [even pagans], because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made" (Romans 1:19-20, ESV), so also Paine can say that, "the Creation speaketh an universal language [which points to the existence of God], independently of human speech or human language, multiplied and various as they be."
The key point on which Paine differs from Paul on this issue is in his optimism about man's ability to reason to God without His assisting from the outside. Whereas Paul sees the plainness of God from natural revelation as an argument against the inherent goodness of a species which can read the record of nature and nevertheless rejects its Source's obvious existence, Paine thinks that nature and reason can and do lead us directly to the knowledge of God's existence apart from any gracious overtures or direct revelation.
On the witness of nature, Paine claims, and is quite correct, that, "THE WORD OF GOD IS THE CREATION WE BEHOLD: And it is in this word, which no human invention can counterfeit or alter, that God speaketh universally to man." What is not plainly clear, however, is that man is free enough from the noetic effects of sin to reach such an obvious conclusion on his own. Indeed, the attempts of mankind to create a religion which represents the truth have invariably landed them at paganism. By paganism I mean a system of belief based, as Yehezkel Kaufmann and John N. Oswalt have shown, on continuity.iv In polytheism, even the supernatural is not really supernatural, but is perhaps in some way above humans while not being altogether distinct from us. What happens to the gods is merely what happens to human beings and the natural world writ large, which is why the gods are, like us, victims of fate, and why pagan fertility rituals have attempted to influence nature by influencing the gods which represent it in accordance with the deeper magic of the eternal universe we all inhabit.
When mankind has looked at nature without the benefit of supernatural revelation, he has not been consciously aware of a Being outside of nature which is necessarily responsible for it. His reasoning to metaphysics is based entirely on his own naturalistic categories derived from his own experience. According to Moses, it took God revealing Himself to the Hebrews for anyone to understand what Paine thinks anyone can plainly see.
The goal of deism is to hold onto what the western mind, which values extreme independence of thought, views as attractive in theism while casting aside what it finds distasteful. But as C.S. Lewis remarked, Aslan is not a tame lion. If a sovereign God exists, He cannot be limited by your desires of what you'd like Him to be. For this reason, the deism of men like Paine served as a cultural stepping stone toward the atheism of later intellectuals.
For Paine, as for other deists and atheists like him, it is not that Christianity has been subjected to reason and found wanting, but that it has been subjected to his own private and culturally-determined tastes and preferences and has failed to satisfy. This is the flipside of the anti-religious claim that those who believe in a given religion only do so because of their cultural conditioning: the anti-religionist is also conditioned in a similar way. Of course, how one comes to believe a certain thing has no bearing on whether that thing is true in itself, and this is true whether Christianity, atheism, or any other view is correct. But it must be stated that the deist or atheist is not immune from the epistemic difficulties which he so condescendingly heaps on theists.
One of the befuddling ironies of Paine's work is that around the time he was writing about the revealed religions as, “no other than human inventions set up to terrify and enslave mankind, and monopolize power and profit," the French were turning churches into “temples of reason” and murdering thousands at the guillotine (an instrument of execution now most strongly identified with France's godless reign of terror). Paine, who nearly lost his own life during the French Revolution, saw the danger of this atheism and hoped to stay its progress, despite the risk to his own life in attempting to do so.
What is odd is that Paine managed to blame this violent atheism upon the Christian faith! Obfuscated Paine:
"The Idea, always dangerous to Society as it is derogatory to the Almighty, — that priests could forgive sins, — though it seemed to exist no longer, had blunted the feelings of humanity, and callously prepared men for the commission of all crimes. The intolerant spirit of church persecution had transferred itself into politics; the tribunals, stiled Revolutionary, supplied the place of an Inquisition; and the Guillotine of the Stake. I saw many of my most intimate friends destroyed; others daily carried to prison; and I had reason to believe, and had also intimations given me, that the same danger was approaching myself."
That Robespierre's deism finally managed to supplant the revolutionary state's atheism and that peace, love, and understanding did not then spread throughout the land undermines Paine's claims. Paine felt that the revolution in politics, especially as represented in America, would necessarily lead to a revolution in religion, and that this religious revolution would result in wide acceptance of deism. The common link between these two revolutions was the idea that the individual man was sovereign and could determine for himself what was right and wrong based on his autonomous reason. What Paine was too myopic to see was that in France's violence and atheism was found the logical consequence of his individualistic philosophy. In summary, it is not Christianity which is dangerous, but the spirit of autonomy which leads inevitably into authoritarianism by way of human desire.
As should be clear by now, Paine failed to understand that human beings have a strong tendency to set impartial reason aside and to simply evaluate reality based on their desires and psychological states. This is no more obvious than in his own ideas as expressed in The Age of Reason. Like Paine's tendency to designate every book in the Old Testament which he likes as having been written originally by a gentile and translated into Hebrew, so many of his criticisms of Christian theology are far more a reflection upon himself than of revealed Christianity. One has only to look at Paine's description of Jesus Christ as a “virtuous reformer and revolutionist” to marvel that Paine was so poor at introspection so as to not understand that he was describing himself.
There is much more that could be said about this work, but in the interest of being somewhat concise, I'll end my comments here. If you found this analysis to be useful, be sure to check out my profile and look for my work discussing Paine and other anti-Christian writers coming soon.
The book seems to have had three major objectives: the support of deism, the ridicule of what Paine found loathsome in Christian theology, and the demonstration of how poor an example the Bible is as a reflection of God.
In a sense, Paine's arguments against Christian theology and scripture were meant to prop up his deistic philosophy. Paine hoped that in demonizing Christianity while giving evidences for God, he would somehow have made the case for deism. But this is not so. If Christianity is false, but God exists nonetheless, we are not left only with deism. There are an infinite number of possibilities for us to examine regarding the nature of God, and far too many left over once we have eliminated the obviously false ones. In favor of deism Paine has only one argument—his dislike of supernatural revelation, which is to say that deism appeals to his culturally derived preferences. In any case, Paine's thinking on the matter seemed to be thus: if supernatural revelation could be shown to be inadequate and the development of complex theology shown to be an error, one could still salvage a belief in God as Creator, but not as an interloper in human affairs who required mediators.
That being said, in his support of deism, Paine makes some arguments to demonstrate the reasonableness in belief in, if not the logical necessity of the existence of, God which could be equally used by Christians.
For instance, just as the apostle Paul argued in his epistle to the Romans that, "what can be known about God is plain to [even pagans], because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made" (Romans 1:19-20, ESV), so also Paine can say that, "the Creation speaketh an universal language [which points to the existence of God], independently of human speech or human language, multiplied and various as they be."
The key point on which Paine differs from Paul on this issue is in his optimism about man's ability to reason to God without His assisting from the outside. Whereas Paul sees the plainness of God from natural revelation as an argument against the inherent goodness of a species which can read the record of nature and nevertheless rejects its Source's obvious existence, Paine thinks that nature and reason can and do lead us directly to the knowledge of God's existence apart from any gracious overtures or direct revelation.
On the witness of nature, Paine claims, and is quite correct, that, "THE WORD OF GOD IS THE CREATION WE BEHOLD: And it is in this word, which no human invention can counterfeit or alter, that God speaketh universally to man." What is not plainly clear, however, is that man is free enough from the noetic effects of sin to reach such an obvious conclusion on his own. Indeed, the attempts of mankind to create a religion which represents the truth have invariably landed them at paganism. By paganism I mean a system of belief based, as Yehezkel Kaufmann and John N. Oswalt have shown, on continuity.iv In polytheism, even the supernatural is not really supernatural, but is perhaps in some way above humans while not being altogether distinct from us. What happens to the gods is merely what happens to human beings and the natural world writ large, which is why the gods are, like us, victims of fate, and why pagan fertility rituals have attempted to influence nature by influencing the gods which represent it in accordance with the deeper magic of the eternal universe we all inhabit.
When mankind has looked at nature without the benefit of supernatural revelation, he has not been consciously aware of a Being outside of nature which is necessarily responsible for it. His reasoning to metaphysics is based entirely on his own naturalistic categories derived from his own experience. According to Moses, it took God revealing Himself to the Hebrews for anyone to understand what Paine thinks anyone can plainly see.
The goal of deism is to hold onto what the western mind, which values extreme independence of thought, views as attractive in theism while casting aside what it finds distasteful. But as C.S. Lewis remarked, Aslan is not a tame lion. If a sovereign God exists, He cannot be limited by your desires of what you'd like Him to be. For this reason, the deism of men like Paine served as a cultural stepping stone toward the atheism of later intellectuals.
For Paine, as for other deists and atheists like him, it is not that Christianity has been subjected to reason and found wanting, but that it has been subjected to his own private and culturally-determined tastes and preferences and has failed to satisfy. This is the flipside of the anti-religious claim that those who believe in a given religion only do so because of their cultural conditioning: the anti-religionist is also conditioned in a similar way. Of course, how one comes to believe a certain thing has no bearing on whether that thing is true in itself, and this is true whether Christianity, atheism, or any other view is correct. But it must be stated that the deist or atheist is not immune from the epistemic difficulties which he so condescendingly heaps on theists.
One of the befuddling ironies of Paine's work is that around the time he was writing about the revealed religions as, “no other than human inventions set up to terrify and enslave mankind, and monopolize power and profit," the French were turning churches into “temples of reason” and murdering thousands at the guillotine (an instrument of execution now most strongly identified with France's godless reign of terror). Paine, who nearly lost his own life during the French Revolution, saw the danger of this atheism and hoped to stay its progress, despite the risk to his own life in attempting to do so.
What is odd is that Paine managed to blame this violent atheism upon the Christian faith! Obfuscated Paine:
"The Idea, always dangerous to Society as it is derogatory to the Almighty, — that priests could forgive sins, — though it seemed to exist no longer, had blunted the feelings of humanity, and callously prepared men for the commission of all crimes. The intolerant spirit of church persecution had transferred itself into politics; the tribunals, stiled Revolutionary, supplied the place of an Inquisition; and the Guillotine of the Stake. I saw many of my most intimate friends destroyed; others daily carried to prison; and I had reason to believe, and had also intimations given me, that the same danger was approaching myself."
That Robespierre's deism finally managed to supplant the revolutionary state's atheism and that peace, love, and understanding did not then spread throughout the land undermines Paine's claims. Paine felt that the revolution in politics, especially as represented in America, would necessarily lead to a revolution in religion, and that this religious revolution would result in wide acceptance of deism. The common link between these two revolutions was the idea that the individual man was sovereign and could determine for himself what was right and wrong based on his autonomous reason. What Paine was too myopic to see was that in France's violence and atheism was found the logical consequence of his individualistic philosophy. In summary, it is not Christianity which is dangerous, but the spirit of autonomy which leads inevitably into authoritarianism by way of human desire.
As should be clear by now, Paine failed to understand that human beings have a strong tendency to set impartial reason aside and to simply evaluate reality based on their desires and psychological states. This is no more obvious than in his own ideas as expressed in The Age of Reason. Like Paine's tendency to designate every book in the Old Testament which he likes as having been written originally by a gentile and translated into Hebrew, so many of his criticisms of Christian theology are far more a reflection upon himself than of revealed Christianity. One has only to look at Paine's description of Jesus Christ as a “virtuous reformer and revolutionist” to marvel that Paine was so poor at introspection so as to not understand that he was describing himself.
There is much more that could be said about this work, but in the interest of being somewhat concise, I'll end my comments here. If you found this analysis to be useful, be sure to check out my profile and look for my work discussing Paine and other anti-Christian writers coming soon.
Gareth von Kallenbach (980 KP) rated Savages (2012) in Movies
Aug 7, 2019
Over the past 15 years, Oliver Stone’s films have been kind of hit or miss to me. It’s as if Stone is still trying to make the same controversial films he became popular for in the 80’s and early 90’s. Only, as an audience, we have become keen to his filmmaking style and therefore his more recent work suffers from the apathy of a “show me something new” culture. Still, despite his failures, Stone does not makes apologies for his work while he continues in his quest to make films about controversial subjects. This time around Stone strives to take us into the violent world of the Mexican drug cartels though a film adaptation of the novel Savages by Don Winslow.
As the film opens we are introduced to “O” (Blake Lively) who, as our narrator, acquaints us with the open yet loving relationship she shares with our two protagonists, Chon and Ben. Chon (Taylor Kitsch), an ex-Navy SEAL, is unquestionably the muscle of the trio’s operation. Chon was the original financier for his high school friend Ben, (Aaron Johnson) the peaceful, charitable, botany genius who has created the most potent marijuana in the world. Together these two embody the perfect man for O, while the three of them enjoy the spoils of the small marijuana empire they created in southern California.
That is until they gain the attention from a Mexican cartel intent on creating a stronger foothold in the southern California area. The cartel offers them a partnership and explains that by teaming up their business will triple in three years. But when the trio refuse the offer, the ruthless head of the cartel, Elena (Selma Hayek), instructs her enforcer, Lado (Benicio Del Toro), to kidnap O and hold her hostage so the boys will cooperate. Soon our heroes use their network of connections, like crooked DEA agent Dennis (John Travolta) and financial broker Spin (Emile Hirsch), to battle the cartel in a series of savage maneuvers to get back their one “shared” love.
Stone has been known to inspire his actors to give Oscar worthy performances. Sadly, you will not find any such performances here. That is not to say that the acting was terrible. It just seemed that the characters themselves are uninspired which is a shame because I would have liked to have seen some growth in this young cast, especially from Taylor Kitsch.
I feel that many critics will be hard on Taylor Kitsch because of his previous epic fails of 2012 (John Carter and Battleship) however I am surprised to admit that, for this movie at least, he gets a pass in my book. Not because he delivers a fantastic performance that makes me believe he’s truly an up and coming talent, but rather because he is convincing in his portrayal of Chon. When O describes our protagonists as each being one half of the perfect man, she refers to Chon as “Hard Steel,” which is exactly what Kitsch plays him as, a one-dimensional, emotionally devoid character with no growth or any real redeeming qualities other than the ability to go to war. Regardless of whether or not Kitsch has any additional acting range not showcased in this film, I cannot penalize him for his performance in this movie. He fit the part that he was cast in fine.
Blake Lively (Gossip Girl, Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants) plays O, short for Ophelia. And yes she channels the mad, love-struck, melancholic character from Hamlet after whom she is named. And while it is easy to make those comparisons to the character of this film, they only appear to be on the surface, if anything. And herein lies the problem. Regardless of how you feel about her open relationship with Ben and Chon, the more I learned about her, the less I cared. Like Kitsch’s character, O is boring and one dimensional. She is the product of being a pretty little rich girl whose mother is off somewhere with husband number twelve. She has been getting stoned every day since she was young and the only place she finds herself loved is in with the company of Chon and Ben. Tragic, I know. While watching the film I honestly thought to myself, if I was Ben or Chon, I would say, “Fuck it. Cut her loose and let’s go to Asia.” She has no redeeming qualities other than being good looking and a good lay. So why would they go through so much trouble for her? The trio’s relationship is weakly tied together by her telling us through narration but never really materializes on screen. At times you get some of a feeling that Ben actually loves her but that love is never really reciprocated from O. It is safe to say that that I did not derive any loving connection from Lively’s performance, though her deliver as a narrator was tolerable.
Aaron Johnson (Kick-Ass) is the one redeeming performance from this young cast. In contrast to Chon, O describes Ben as “Soft Wood” which makes him the better half. Ben is the one character who actually goes through some kind of character arc and growth. Using the wood analogy, we watch him bend from the peaceful Buddhist businessman to the man who will sacrifice everything, to get back this woman he loves. Nowhere is this better embodied than when Ben is faced with the tough choice of sticking to his peaceful beliefs or incinerating a man in cold blood during one of their moves against the cartel. I found myself actually curious about what Ben would do next. Unlike Chon and O, Ben has some depth and struggles with his personal beliefs, his love for O and what needs to be done. Needless to say, Johnson delivers a believable performance that actually helps move along the action and was the only protagonist that kept me interested in their battle.
In addition to Johnson, the film is littered with several strong supporting cast members who all deliver solid performances. Selma Hayek is strong as Elena, the leader of the cartel that challenges Ben and Chon. She is a ruthless and shrewd businesswoman and yet has a better “sense of morality” as she explains during her interactions with O and her own daughter. Her enforcer Lado is played by Benicio Del Toro who, with the help of an uncomfortable rapist mustache, comes off as an extremely menacing character. Del Toro solidifies himself on screen by being down right creepy and yet intelligent in his own savage way. During every moment of screen time you expect him to kill someone just because it is good for business.
A needed bit of change of pace is provided by an unexpected performance by Emile Hirsch (Into the Wild) as Ben and Chon’s witty financial broker, Spin. As well as by John Travolta who plays Dennis, the dirty DEA agent who’s in Ben and Chon’s pocket. In fact, even though Travolta’s screen time is maybe a total of 12 minutes, his performance steals the show with his sole bit of comic relief, for lack of a better explanation. Perhaps the strongest acted moment of this film is during a standoff scene between Del Toro and Travolta that in many ways makes me want to know more about those characters. And what that movie would be about.
In typical Stone fashion the movie is shot in a variety of film angles and stylistic devices used to foreshadow and at times create a foreboding presence. Visually the movie provides a strong and believable feeling for the world these characters live in and the way that they operate their business. In addition, narration is used at points to move along the action and provide the audience with insight that otherwise would not have been possible on performances alone. I personally have no problem with narration as long as it is set up from the beginning and used to advance the story, which it is. However in the final act, the movie introduces a film device from left field that completely kills the already weak pacing of the movie. I cannot get into it without giving away the story, but I can see how this device could completely ruin the movie for those patrons who are already disinterested by the time the final act rolls around. Especially for those who do not find any connection to any of the characters. In which case, the pacing of this film will seem slow and drawn out.
I am torn about my review of this film. Savages is something that I wanted to like more than I did. Two of the three protagonists are one dimensional and if it was not for Johnson and the strong supporting cast I might have found the movie boring. It was also completely different from the expectations set by the commercials. Those looking for an action movie will feel misled and will more than likely be disappointed with the film. Not that there is not any action, only it comes between very long periods of dialogue and slow pacing. By the end of the movie, you are either invested in these characters or just waiting for the lights to come up in the theater. And in typical Oliver Stone fashion the movie tries to make us question our own perception of just what it means to be a savage.
As the film opens we are introduced to “O” (Blake Lively) who, as our narrator, acquaints us with the open yet loving relationship she shares with our two protagonists, Chon and Ben. Chon (Taylor Kitsch), an ex-Navy SEAL, is unquestionably the muscle of the trio’s operation. Chon was the original financier for his high school friend Ben, (Aaron Johnson) the peaceful, charitable, botany genius who has created the most potent marijuana in the world. Together these two embody the perfect man for O, while the three of them enjoy the spoils of the small marijuana empire they created in southern California.
That is until they gain the attention from a Mexican cartel intent on creating a stronger foothold in the southern California area. The cartel offers them a partnership and explains that by teaming up their business will triple in three years. But when the trio refuse the offer, the ruthless head of the cartel, Elena (Selma Hayek), instructs her enforcer, Lado (Benicio Del Toro), to kidnap O and hold her hostage so the boys will cooperate. Soon our heroes use their network of connections, like crooked DEA agent Dennis (John Travolta) and financial broker Spin (Emile Hirsch), to battle the cartel in a series of savage maneuvers to get back their one “shared” love.
Stone has been known to inspire his actors to give Oscar worthy performances. Sadly, you will not find any such performances here. That is not to say that the acting was terrible. It just seemed that the characters themselves are uninspired which is a shame because I would have liked to have seen some growth in this young cast, especially from Taylor Kitsch.
I feel that many critics will be hard on Taylor Kitsch because of his previous epic fails of 2012 (John Carter and Battleship) however I am surprised to admit that, for this movie at least, he gets a pass in my book. Not because he delivers a fantastic performance that makes me believe he’s truly an up and coming talent, but rather because he is convincing in his portrayal of Chon. When O describes our protagonists as each being one half of the perfect man, she refers to Chon as “Hard Steel,” which is exactly what Kitsch plays him as, a one-dimensional, emotionally devoid character with no growth or any real redeeming qualities other than the ability to go to war. Regardless of whether or not Kitsch has any additional acting range not showcased in this film, I cannot penalize him for his performance in this movie. He fit the part that he was cast in fine.
Blake Lively (Gossip Girl, Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants) plays O, short for Ophelia. And yes she channels the mad, love-struck, melancholic character from Hamlet after whom she is named. And while it is easy to make those comparisons to the character of this film, they only appear to be on the surface, if anything. And herein lies the problem. Regardless of how you feel about her open relationship with Ben and Chon, the more I learned about her, the less I cared. Like Kitsch’s character, O is boring and one dimensional. She is the product of being a pretty little rich girl whose mother is off somewhere with husband number twelve. She has been getting stoned every day since she was young and the only place she finds herself loved is in with the company of Chon and Ben. Tragic, I know. While watching the film I honestly thought to myself, if I was Ben or Chon, I would say, “Fuck it. Cut her loose and let’s go to Asia.” She has no redeeming qualities other than being good looking and a good lay. So why would they go through so much trouble for her? The trio’s relationship is weakly tied together by her telling us through narration but never really materializes on screen. At times you get some of a feeling that Ben actually loves her but that love is never really reciprocated from O. It is safe to say that that I did not derive any loving connection from Lively’s performance, though her deliver as a narrator was tolerable.
Aaron Johnson (Kick-Ass) is the one redeeming performance from this young cast. In contrast to Chon, O describes Ben as “Soft Wood” which makes him the better half. Ben is the one character who actually goes through some kind of character arc and growth. Using the wood analogy, we watch him bend from the peaceful Buddhist businessman to the man who will sacrifice everything, to get back this woman he loves. Nowhere is this better embodied than when Ben is faced with the tough choice of sticking to his peaceful beliefs or incinerating a man in cold blood during one of their moves against the cartel. I found myself actually curious about what Ben would do next. Unlike Chon and O, Ben has some depth and struggles with his personal beliefs, his love for O and what needs to be done. Needless to say, Johnson delivers a believable performance that actually helps move along the action and was the only protagonist that kept me interested in their battle.
In addition to Johnson, the film is littered with several strong supporting cast members who all deliver solid performances. Selma Hayek is strong as Elena, the leader of the cartel that challenges Ben and Chon. She is a ruthless and shrewd businesswoman and yet has a better “sense of morality” as she explains during her interactions with O and her own daughter. Her enforcer Lado is played by Benicio Del Toro who, with the help of an uncomfortable rapist mustache, comes off as an extremely menacing character. Del Toro solidifies himself on screen by being down right creepy and yet intelligent in his own savage way. During every moment of screen time you expect him to kill someone just because it is good for business.
A needed bit of change of pace is provided by an unexpected performance by Emile Hirsch (Into the Wild) as Ben and Chon’s witty financial broker, Spin. As well as by John Travolta who plays Dennis, the dirty DEA agent who’s in Ben and Chon’s pocket. In fact, even though Travolta’s screen time is maybe a total of 12 minutes, his performance steals the show with his sole bit of comic relief, for lack of a better explanation. Perhaps the strongest acted moment of this film is during a standoff scene between Del Toro and Travolta that in many ways makes me want to know more about those characters. And what that movie would be about.
In typical Stone fashion the movie is shot in a variety of film angles and stylistic devices used to foreshadow and at times create a foreboding presence. Visually the movie provides a strong and believable feeling for the world these characters live in and the way that they operate their business. In addition, narration is used at points to move along the action and provide the audience with insight that otherwise would not have been possible on performances alone. I personally have no problem with narration as long as it is set up from the beginning and used to advance the story, which it is. However in the final act, the movie introduces a film device from left field that completely kills the already weak pacing of the movie. I cannot get into it without giving away the story, but I can see how this device could completely ruin the movie for those patrons who are already disinterested by the time the final act rolls around. Especially for those who do not find any connection to any of the characters. In which case, the pacing of this film will seem slow and drawn out.
I am torn about my review of this film. Savages is something that I wanted to like more than I did. Two of the three protagonists are one dimensional and if it was not for Johnson and the strong supporting cast I might have found the movie boring. It was also completely different from the expectations set by the commercials. Those looking for an action movie will feel misled and will more than likely be disappointed with the film. Not that there is not any action, only it comes between very long periods of dialogue and slow pacing. By the end of the movie, you are either invested in these characters or just waiting for the lights to come up in the theater. And in typical Oliver Stone fashion the movie tries to make us question our own perception of just what it means to be a savage.