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Kirk Bage (1775 KP) rated Bohemian Rhapsody (2018) in Movies
Mar 3, 2020
In the search for a way to watch the 92nd Academy Awards live from Hollywood tonight I was led to a subscription for Now TV, which is basically the online platform for Sky Cinema. And there I found all the missing films I had yet to see from last year that aren’t available “free” on Amazon Prime or Netflix. I should really have worked it out before now that a free trial might be available, having assumed that a Sky subscription was beyond my means at the moment. Imagine my excitement to not only secure the Oscars but a 7 day pass to catch up on some big titles. It’s the small things in life…
Having made a 20 strong watch list, I wasted no time in heading straight for the Queen biopic, Bohemian Rhapsody, winner of 4 awards last February, including one for Rami Malek as Freddy Mercury that I applauded very loudly at the time, without having seen it, due to my love for him as Elliot Alderson in my favourite TV show of the last 5 years, the incredible and mindbendingly brilliant Mr. Robot.
My connection to Queen as a fan isn’t an especially strong one; I have always thought they were fine, and enjoyed their biggest hits as much as anyone. But it is the story, charisma and undeniable singing talent of Mercury that attracts me. From the opening scenes it is apparent that what we are going to get here is a fairly straightforward, by the numbers recounting of events, punctuated by some serious tunes and some glorious 70s fashions. Having read that this was the main criticism of it going in, it really didn’t bother me at all to find it wasn’t going to make bolder artistic and dramatic choices. It was very much about sitting back and enjoying the show!
In fact, there is something comforting and unchallenging about its format that I liked. The pattern of abc that is a) some background to Freddy’s life, b) a build up to how they came across their big hits, and c) a rendition of that hit, didn’t strike me as cheap, but rather unpretentious and to the point. The whole thing clipped along nicely with very little dead air; Malek is a joy to watch in every moment; the clothes and scenery of the 70s and later 80s is a treat; and the music stands for itself, with you often forgetting how good the tunes are until you hear them in this context.
Of course, at times it is almost laughable how well known facts and details are crow-barred into the narrative, with some of the darker elements glossed over, as if this were almost a Disney retelling. But, again, it doesn’t matter, because as an entertainment it is all so enjoyable. Not to say the dark side of the story isn’t touched upon, because it is to an extent, just that it is clear this is a celebration of a life and a talent, not an exposé. Which is fine. As with the superior Walk The Line, and the recently inferior Rocketman, we know a seedier story of Johnny Cash and Elton John exists, but we accept that revelling in the genius of the music is more fun than trawling through the trash.
Malek is a wonder to behold! It has to be said. Once you (and he) get used to the false teeth and bite down on the energy and drive of Mercury, it is impossible to take your eyes off him! He handles the dramatic moments and nuance of this fragile mind with ease, but it is the performances that stand out: his movement is so fluid and accurate that you forget at times you aren’t watching archive footage, which is some trick! Gwilym Lee and Ben Hardy as Brian May and Roger Taylor are also to be praised for this, despite having less to do. With Joseph Mazzello as John Deacon largely merging into the background inoffensively, much as his real life counterpart did.
There is some solid support too. Lucy Boynton is completely charming if largely uninteresting; Tom Hollander quietly steals several scenes as the lawyer who doesn’t just work for them but idolises them as much as any fan; and an unrecognisable Mike Myers is a lot of fun as the manager who missed out on the vision and lives to regret it. Honourable mention also to Allen Leech as the villain of the piece, who walks the tightrope of cartoonish nastiness with some skill, serving the story well in the latter half.
My favourites parts were, unsurprisingly, the genesis and evolution of the big tunes, which was invariably very satisfying. Love of My Life, We Will Rock You, We are the Champions and of course Bohemian Rhapsody are treated like holy texts, with fascinating detail and a reverence that never seems over-egged. Building to the climax of Live Aid; a twenty minute segment at the end of the film that brings a genuine lump to the throat. The magnitude of the event and its natural energy are so well realised, every minor foible of the film up to that point are forgiven, and you walk away from it feeling elated and glad that this moment exists in music history.
Artistically, it isn’t a movie to get too caried away about, but the art of creating a spectacle that pleases on a basic, uncomplicated level is. Director Bryan Singer knows a trick or two, and the trick here is what is left out. There just isn’t a moment to be bored, and I find myself wishing that films of this kind took a leaf out of that book more often. In conclusion, I think this movie will endure the test of time, which is a lot more than most biopic genre films can say. But who wants to live forever anyway?
Having made a 20 strong watch list, I wasted no time in heading straight for the Queen biopic, Bohemian Rhapsody, winner of 4 awards last February, including one for Rami Malek as Freddy Mercury that I applauded very loudly at the time, without having seen it, due to my love for him as Elliot Alderson in my favourite TV show of the last 5 years, the incredible and mindbendingly brilliant Mr. Robot.
My connection to Queen as a fan isn’t an especially strong one; I have always thought they were fine, and enjoyed their biggest hits as much as anyone. But it is the story, charisma and undeniable singing talent of Mercury that attracts me. From the opening scenes it is apparent that what we are going to get here is a fairly straightforward, by the numbers recounting of events, punctuated by some serious tunes and some glorious 70s fashions. Having read that this was the main criticism of it going in, it really didn’t bother me at all to find it wasn’t going to make bolder artistic and dramatic choices. It was very much about sitting back and enjoying the show!
In fact, there is something comforting and unchallenging about its format that I liked. The pattern of abc that is a) some background to Freddy’s life, b) a build up to how they came across their big hits, and c) a rendition of that hit, didn’t strike me as cheap, but rather unpretentious and to the point. The whole thing clipped along nicely with very little dead air; Malek is a joy to watch in every moment; the clothes and scenery of the 70s and later 80s is a treat; and the music stands for itself, with you often forgetting how good the tunes are until you hear them in this context.
Of course, at times it is almost laughable how well known facts and details are crow-barred into the narrative, with some of the darker elements glossed over, as if this were almost a Disney retelling. But, again, it doesn’t matter, because as an entertainment it is all so enjoyable. Not to say the dark side of the story isn’t touched upon, because it is to an extent, just that it is clear this is a celebration of a life and a talent, not an exposé. Which is fine. As with the superior Walk The Line, and the recently inferior Rocketman, we know a seedier story of Johnny Cash and Elton John exists, but we accept that revelling in the genius of the music is more fun than trawling through the trash.
Malek is a wonder to behold! It has to be said. Once you (and he) get used to the false teeth and bite down on the energy and drive of Mercury, it is impossible to take your eyes off him! He handles the dramatic moments and nuance of this fragile mind with ease, but it is the performances that stand out: his movement is so fluid and accurate that you forget at times you aren’t watching archive footage, which is some trick! Gwilym Lee and Ben Hardy as Brian May and Roger Taylor are also to be praised for this, despite having less to do. With Joseph Mazzello as John Deacon largely merging into the background inoffensively, much as his real life counterpart did.
There is some solid support too. Lucy Boynton is completely charming if largely uninteresting; Tom Hollander quietly steals several scenes as the lawyer who doesn’t just work for them but idolises them as much as any fan; and an unrecognisable Mike Myers is a lot of fun as the manager who missed out on the vision and lives to regret it. Honourable mention also to Allen Leech as the villain of the piece, who walks the tightrope of cartoonish nastiness with some skill, serving the story well in the latter half.
My favourites parts were, unsurprisingly, the genesis and evolution of the big tunes, which was invariably very satisfying. Love of My Life, We Will Rock You, We are the Champions and of course Bohemian Rhapsody are treated like holy texts, with fascinating detail and a reverence that never seems over-egged. Building to the climax of Live Aid; a twenty minute segment at the end of the film that brings a genuine lump to the throat. The magnitude of the event and its natural energy are so well realised, every minor foible of the film up to that point are forgiven, and you walk away from it feeling elated and glad that this moment exists in music history.
Artistically, it isn’t a movie to get too caried away about, but the art of creating a spectacle that pleases on a basic, uncomplicated level is. Director Bryan Singer knows a trick or two, and the trick here is what is left out. There just isn’t a moment to be bored, and I find myself wishing that films of this kind took a leaf out of that book more often. In conclusion, I think this movie will endure the test of time, which is a lot more than most biopic genre films can say. But who wants to live forever anyway?
RəX Regent (349 KP) rated The Dark Knight Rises (2012) in Movies
Feb 19, 2019
Contains spoilers, click to show
After four years, since The Dark Knight ended, leaving us wanting more and seven years since Christopher Nolan reinvented the comic book adaptation with Batman Begins, The final chapter of The Dark Knight Trilogy has arrived.
With this much hype, would it possible live up to potentially bloated expectations? The first reviews hit last monday, with 4 to 5 stars being the consensus. Well, it did! The Dark Knight returns one last time, after eight years have passed since the events of The Dark Knight and Batman had retreated into the rebuilt Wayne Manor as Commissioner Gordon (Gary Oldman), maintaining the lie that Harvey Dent was Gotham’s The White Knight, and not the maniacal Two-Face, had managed to clean up Gotham City.
Batman was no longer needed but in the meantime, Bane has arrived in the city with grand plans for its destruction. I won’t go much further into the plot that this, though I will probably write a more spoiler heavy review for the Blu-ray later in the year. But for now, I will try to maintain the film’s integrity.
When we first meet Bruce Wayne after almost a decade of seclusion, he is a broken man, both physically and mentally following the murder of his childhood sweetheart, Rachel Dawes in the previous film and the toll of nightly combat. So the first port of call is to bring Batman back to the streets of Gotham. The sense of excitement is palpable and very much a part of what makes Nolan’s films tick.
He draws his audience into the narrative as if we are part of the events and the universe as it unfolds, leaving us not just wanting Batman to return for the sake of the action but for Gotham’s sake as well. Bane, played so excellently by Tom Hardy, was a little difficult to understand from behind his mask, but still conveyed an enormous amount of presence and power, as he lays siege to the city but not as Terrorist per say, but as a freedom fighter or revolutionary, with many visual references to the French Revolution to keep us going.
Anne Hathaway’s Catwoman, though not named as anyone other than Selina Kyle, was a credit to her character as well as the actress. Dark, sultry, seductive and agile, her feline credibly was intact, whilst still being a very human character. Her duplicity was bread from desperation rather than evil and her motives convincingly drive her in both good and more dubious endeavours.
*** MAJOR SPOILER***
The less said about Talia Al Ghul the better, but the for those aware of her role, it was well-played, though her final scene was the hammiest in the film, possibly the entire trilogy.
Then there’s the supporting cast, such as Mathew Modene, who does a great job as Dept. Commissioner Foley and Cillian Murphy’s back again, as the subtly unrecognisable Scarecrow, who besides some frayed shoulder’s on his jacket, could have been anyone,and that’s the beauty of Nolan’s Batman universe. It’s fluid and you can’t count on anything on anyone for too long.
But this franchise would be nothing without Hans Zimmer percussive score, pounding as much as it was gentle, it works well among with Nolan’s direction to craft the near perfect conclusion to the Trilogy. Both riff on earlier films and supe it up accordingly whilst maintaining the film’s integrity.
In the end, my expectations were met and exceeded. Nolan has crowned his trilogy with a film which is of the same calabar as the two which preceded it, filling in many of the blanks, choosing the right characters to take on and doing so a variety of ways, touching this time on the flamboyant Bain, though scrapping the “Venom” plot from the comics, creating an intriguing Catwoman and building another major character in the form of R. John Blake (Joseph Gordon-Lovett).
The ending of the film is just perfect, not only for this but for the entire Trilogy. With nods to Inception though I believe that it is just a nod and not as similar as some would protest, but this is epic in the way that The Dark Knight never tried to be and Batman Begins didn’t need to be. The threat is apocalyptic, in keeping with the genre, but believable in keeping with Nolan.
The same can be said for the action, though I must admit, the sentimentalist in me wanted to see the Batmoble/Tumber back, though it was there in triplicate, as Bane steels three prototype Tumbers from Wayne Enterprises, for his private army, but the Bat (Batwing) was stunning, and the Batpod made a reappearance. The Final showdown will leave you breathless, the perfect blend of direction, Zimmer’s score and some of the most intense and meaningful action you’ll see on the big screen.
The only real faults with The Dark Knight Rises stem from its scale and change in direction. It’s more about Batman’s evolution from crime fighter to savour. Less intense on a personal level, but much grander in its ideals and horror as Gotham is destroyed on scale never seen in a film of this type. But it’s not as far-fetched as one may think, as it grounds itself with historical references, such as the French Revolution, which was hardly far-fetched, though it was hard-hitting and is well translated here.
Bruce Wayne completes his journey from the boy who witnessed his parents murder, to a young man who could not grow beyond it, to a man who lost himself in a journey to understand the criminal mind. Finally returning as Batman, who defied his mentor to protect his beloved city, to a master detective. But here, he returns to his roots.
The billionaire who never cared about his wealth as much as he cared for the people of Gotham, he ends up exactly where he needed to be. Decide for yourself, whether it’s a happy ending, sad or satisfying, but either way, it was not only the best way to advance the saga, but the best way to end the series as a whole. Thanks to Nolan and his crew, we now have the most definitively brilliant Batman series EVER committed to celluloid, (or digital), and no matter what is to follow, whether it is to be the Justice League mash-up or another reboot, I suspect that it will be a long, long time before anyone can beat these.
With this much hype, would it possible live up to potentially bloated expectations? The first reviews hit last monday, with 4 to 5 stars being the consensus. Well, it did! The Dark Knight returns one last time, after eight years have passed since the events of The Dark Knight and Batman had retreated into the rebuilt Wayne Manor as Commissioner Gordon (Gary Oldman), maintaining the lie that Harvey Dent was Gotham’s The White Knight, and not the maniacal Two-Face, had managed to clean up Gotham City.
Batman was no longer needed but in the meantime, Bane has arrived in the city with grand plans for its destruction. I won’t go much further into the plot that this, though I will probably write a more spoiler heavy review for the Blu-ray later in the year. But for now, I will try to maintain the film’s integrity.
When we first meet Bruce Wayne after almost a decade of seclusion, he is a broken man, both physically and mentally following the murder of his childhood sweetheart, Rachel Dawes in the previous film and the toll of nightly combat. So the first port of call is to bring Batman back to the streets of Gotham. The sense of excitement is palpable and very much a part of what makes Nolan’s films tick.
He draws his audience into the narrative as if we are part of the events and the universe as it unfolds, leaving us not just wanting Batman to return for the sake of the action but for Gotham’s sake as well. Bane, played so excellently by Tom Hardy, was a little difficult to understand from behind his mask, but still conveyed an enormous amount of presence and power, as he lays siege to the city but not as Terrorist per say, but as a freedom fighter or revolutionary, with many visual references to the French Revolution to keep us going.
Anne Hathaway’s Catwoman, though not named as anyone other than Selina Kyle, was a credit to her character as well as the actress. Dark, sultry, seductive and agile, her feline credibly was intact, whilst still being a very human character. Her duplicity was bread from desperation rather than evil and her motives convincingly drive her in both good and more dubious endeavours.
*** MAJOR SPOILER***
The less said about Talia Al Ghul the better, but the for those aware of her role, it was well-played, though her final scene was the hammiest in the film, possibly the entire trilogy.
Then there’s the supporting cast, such as Mathew Modene, who does a great job as Dept. Commissioner Foley and Cillian Murphy’s back again, as the subtly unrecognisable Scarecrow, who besides some frayed shoulder’s on his jacket, could have been anyone,and that’s the beauty of Nolan’s Batman universe. It’s fluid and you can’t count on anything on anyone for too long.
But this franchise would be nothing without Hans Zimmer percussive score, pounding as much as it was gentle, it works well among with Nolan’s direction to craft the near perfect conclusion to the Trilogy. Both riff on earlier films and supe it up accordingly whilst maintaining the film’s integrity.
In the end, my expectations were met and exceeded. Nolan has crowned his trilogy with a film which is of the same calabar as the two which preceded it, filling in many of the blanks, choosing the right characters to take on and doing so a variety of ways, touching this time on the flamboyant Bain, though scrapping the “Venom” plot from the comics, creating an intriguing Catwoman and building another major character in the form of R. John Blake (Joseph Gordon-Lovett).
The ending of the film is just perfect, not only for this but for the entire Trilogy. With nods to Inception though I believe that it is just a nod and not as similar as some would protest, but this is epic in the way that The Dark Knight never tried to be and Batman Begins didn’t need to be. The threat is apocalyptic, in keeping with the genre, but believable in keeping with Nolan.
The same can be said for the action, though I must admit, the sentimentalist in me wanted to see the Batmoble/Tumber back, though it was there in triplicate, as Bane steels three prototype Tumbers from Wayne Enterprises, for his private army, but the Bat (Batwing) was stunning, and the Batpod made a reappearance. The Final showdown will leave you breathless, the perfect blend of direction, Zimmer’s score and some of the most intense and meaningful action you’ll see on the big screen.
The only real faults with The Dark Knight Rises stem from its scale and change in direction. It’s more about Batman’s evolution from crime fighter to savour. Less intense on a personal level, but much grander in its ideals and horror as Gotham is destroyed on scale never seen in a film of this type. But it’s not as far-fetched as one may think, as it grounds itself with historical references, such as the French Revolution, which was hardly far-fetched, though it was hard-hitting and is well translated here.
Bruce Wayne completes his journey from the boy who witnessed his parents murder, to a young man who could not grow beyond it, to a man who lost himself in a journey to understand the criminal mind. Finally returning as Batman, who defied his mentor to protect his beloved city, to a master detective. But here, he returns to his roots.
The billionaire who never cared about his wealth as much as he cared for the people of Gotham, he ends up exactly where he needed to be. Decide for yourself, whether it’s a happy ending, sad or satisfying, but either way, it was not only the best way to advance the saga, but the best way to end the series as a whole. Thanks to Nolan and his crew, we now have the most definitively brilliant Batman series EVER committed to celluloid, (or digital), and no matter what is to follow, whether it is to be the Justice League mash-up or another reboot, I suspect that it will be a long, long time before anyone can beat these.
Mandy and G.D. Burkhead (26 KP) rated Sir Apropos of Nothing in Books
May 20, 2018
Shelf Life – Sir Apropos of Nothing Skewers the Hero’s Journey
Contains spoilers, click to show
Fantasy and satire are two of my favorite genres in any medium, but especially so in books. Satirical fantasy, then, holds a special place on my shelves. I grew up on Sir Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series, and desire to imitate him and his style is what led me in middle school to begin writing in earnest, for fun, and for myself rather than just for my teachers and their assignments.
So when I picked up Sir Apropos of Nothing, I did so based on the title pun and the back-of-the-book synopsis that promised “a berserk phoenix, murderous unicorns, mutated harpies, homicidal warrior kings, and – most problematic of all – a princess who may or may not be a psychotic arsonist.” I expected another lighthearted riff on the familiar archetypes. Murderous unicorns? Unicorns are not typically described as such! Oh teehee, how unexpectedly humorous!
Sir Apropos of Nothing is a satirical fantasy, just like it promised, though at times it’s hard to tell how much of the story is played for laughs and how much is played straight. See, the thing about satire that’s easy to forget at times is that it’s not synonymous with buffoonery. Make no mistake – Apropos is a funny book, full of witty dialogue and groan-inducing puns. It’s a book that takes great delight in lampshading traditional fantasy tropes and archetypes, as well as the entirety of Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey idea. But it is not always a silly lampshade; sometimes a cliche or trope is pointed out to have its inherit ridiculousness laughed at, and sometimes it is pointed out because it is causing real and lasting pain or damage, either to the society in which it is set or, more often, to the titular Apropos himself and his ever-degrading esteem of both the people around him and himself.
The tone, at first, is hard to pin down. The story starts in media res with the main character being caught by a knight while in mid-coitus with that knight’s wife and escalates from there. The second chapter opens with a fourth wall-breaking narrative admission by Apropos himself that this was done with the express purpose of catching your attention, and now we’re going back to cover Apropos’s childhood, which ends up being equal parts dark, tragic, punny, and conveniently trope-filled – all of which Apropos, as narrator, approaches with the same resigned, blasé outlook.
If this sounds a bit jarring, well, it kind of is. Early on, I wasn’t sure what to think of where the story was trying to go or what I was expected to feel about it. After the first turn from cliché to dark and visceral to light and punny, all within a few pages, I caught myself thinking, “Crap, is this book gonna try and mix goofy jokes with serious drama and thoughtful moral quandary?”
The answer is yes. And it pulls it off fantastically.
This is due in large part to the interesting depths of the antihero, Apropos, who seems to be so named purely for the joke in the title. In Apropos we see a deep sense of justice and rightness that is entirely eclipsed by an even deeper cynicism and an unshakeable instinct for self-preservation. His life is objectively terrible, but rather than brood and lament, he adjusts. He keeps his head down when he can, weathers abuse when he can’t, and learns to deal with the constant shit storm, all the while bottling his growing anger and resentment at a world that would allow such amounts of suffering and hypocrisy to go unchecked. The fact that he himself becomes a selfish, hypocritical, and generally awful person is not lost on him, and the result is a flawed, unheroic, pathetic coward of a protagonist, a magnificently multifaceted bastard who doesn’t spare even himself from his vast and withering contempt.
And it’s a blast. It really is. Apropos is refreshingly pragmatic and unabashedly pessimistic, a welcome change from the typical righteous-yet-humble heroes of traditional fantasy, or even the loveable and untalented everyman in over his head of traditional fantasy spoofs. Despite a portentous birthmark (on his ass, no less) and beginnings that are not “humble” so much as “poverty of the dirtiest kind,” Apropos is everything a hero should not be short of outright evil.
And this, as it turns out, is entirely the point. This is where the satire, funny or otherwise, really shines through. This is the crux that elevates Sir Apropos of Nothing from a generically self-aware fantasy story to an original and memorable subversion of storytelling as a whole.
Without giving too much away, there comes a point in the plot where Apropos realizes that the events surrounding his miserable life are part of a heroic tale that has been preordained by Fate and is now being epically written out by Destiny. And despite his birthmark, his tragic past, and his mother’s constant reassurances that he has some sort of great destiny hovering over him, he is not the hero. He is only a minor character. A walk-on role on the hero’s stage. A brief pit-stop along the hero’s journey. An NPC whose dreams, desires, and continued existence are so far below importance to the story as to be utterly negligible.
And once this finally clicks with him, he violently, brazenly rebels against it. He gives an emphatic middle finger to Fate’s ideas and sets about making Destiny sit up and take notice of him again. He momentarily and violently overcomes his own abject cowardice just long enough to find a way to completely wreck the traditional heroic ballad in which he lives, all on the basis that, dammit, the world owes him more than this, and nobody should be so miserably cursed as to live their entire life as a foil character.
At this point in my own reading, I didn’t know whether to cheer him on or worry about the repercussions of his actions, because he doesn’t suddenly become heroic when this happens. He’s exactly as much of a selfish, lying bastard as before, and however bad you feel for him, you can completely understand why he was never cast for this role in the first place. Add to this the complete disregard of the author for following what seems to be the obvious progression of events in favor of twists that take you completely by surprise, but still make complete sense and arise organically from the story itself, and you eventually give up thinking that you have any sense of where the story’s going or how any event is going to play out. From beginning to end, it feeds you familiar ideas and then completely subverts them, introduces clichés and then proceeds to tear them apart, and you laugh and pity and feel something the entire way through.
In short, Sir Apropos of Nothing is a book that will keep you turning page after page – not necessarily because of the gripping drama (although it has that) or because of any breezy humor (although it has that too), or because the narration itself oozes suspense (although it often does), but because, with the rapid infusion of new and creative ideas and the hidden depths of character constantly bubbling to the surface in everyone involved, you honestly never know what’s going to happen next. If you like fantasy and can stand to have your expectations messed with, Apropos is certainly apropos.
So when I picked up Sir Apropos of Nothing, I did so based on the title pun and the back-of-the-book synopsis that promised “a berserk phoenix, murderous unicorns, mutated harpies, homicidal warrior kings, and – most problematic of all – a princess who may or may not be a psychotic arsonist.” I expected another lighthearted riff on the familiar archetypes. Murderous unicorns? Unicorns are not typically described as such! Oh teehee, how unexpectedly humorous!
Sir Apropos of Nothing is a satirical fantasy, just like it promised, though at times it’s hard to tell how much of the story is played for laughs and how much is played straight. See, the thing about satire that’s easy to forget at times is that it’s not synonymous with buffoonery. Make no mistake – Apropos is a funny book, full of witty dialogue and groan-inducing puns. It’s a book that takes great delight in lampshading traditional fantasy tropes and archetypes, as well as the entirety of Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey idea. But it is not always a silly lampshade; sometimes a cliche or trope is pointed out to have its inherit ridiculousness laughed at, and sometimes it is pointed out because it is causing real and lasting pain or damage, either to the society in which it is set or, more often, to the titular Apropos himself and his ever-degrading esteem of both the people around him and himself.
The tone, at first, is hard to pin down. The story starts in media res with the main character being caught by a knight while in mid-coitus with that knight’s wife and escalates from there. The second chapter opens with a fourth wall-breaking narrative admission by Apropos himself that this was done with the express purpose of catching your attention, and now we’re going back to cover Apropos’s childhood, which ends up being equal parts dark, tragic, punny, and conveniently trope-filled – all of which Apropos, as narrator, approaches with the same resigned, blasé outlook.
If this sounds a bit jarring, well, it kind of is. Early on, I wasn’t sure what to think of where the story was trying to go or what I was expected to feel about it. After the first turn from cliché to dark and visceral to light and punny, all within a few pages, I caught myself thinking, “Crap, is this book gonna try and mix goofy jokes with serious drama and thoughtful moral quandary?”
The answer is yes. And it pulls it off fantastically.
This is due in large part to the interesting depths of the antihero, Apropos, who seems to be so named purely for the joke in the title. In Apropos we see a deep sense of justice and rightness that is entirely eclipsed by an even deeper cynicism and an unshakeable instinct for self-preservation. His life is objectively terrible, but rather than brood and lament, he adjusts. He keeps his head down when he can, weathers abuse when he can’t, and learns to deal with the constant shit storm, all the while bottling his growing anger and resentment at a world that would allow such amounts of suffering and hypocrisy to go unchecked. The fact that he himself becomes a selfish, hypocritical, and generally awful person is not lost on him, and the result is a flawed, unheroic, pathetic coward of a protagonist, a magnificently multifaceted bastard who doesn’t spare even himself from his vast and withering contempt.
And it’s a blast. It really is. Apropos is refreshingly pragmatic and unabashedly pessimistic, a welcome change from the typical righteous-yet-humble heroes of traditional fantasy, or even the loveable and untalented everyman in over his head of traditional fantasy spoofs. Despite a portentous birthmark (on his ass, no less) and beginnings that are not “humble” so much as “poverty of the dirtiest kind,” Apropos is everything a hero should not be short of outright evil.
And this, as it turns out, is entirely the point. This is where the satire, funny or otherwise, really shines through. This is the crux that elevates Sir Apropos of Nothing from a generically self-aware fantasy story to an original and memorable subversion of storytelling as a whole.
Without giving too much away, there comes a point in the plot where Apropos realizes that the events surrounding his miserable life are part of a heroic tale that has been preordained by Fate and is now being epically written out by Destiny. And despite his birthmark, his tragic past, and his mother’s constant reassurances that he has some sort of great destiny hovering over him, he is not the hero. He is only a minor character. A walk-on role on the hero’s stage. A brief pit-stop along the hero’s journey. An NPC whose dreams, desires, and continued existence are so far below importance to the story as to be utterly negligible.
And once this finally clicks with him, he violently, brazenly rebels against it. He gives an emphatic middle finger to Fate’s ideas and sets about making Destiny sit up and take notice of him again. He momentarily and violently overcomes his own abject cowardice just long enough to find a way to completely wreck the traditional heroic ballad in which he lives, all on the basis that, dammit, the world owes him more than this, and nobody should be so miserably cursed as to live their entire life as a foil character.
At this point in my own reading, I didn’t know whether to cheer him on or worry about the repercussions of his actions, because he doesn’t suddenly become heroic when this happens. He’s exactly as much of a selfish, lying bastard as before, and however bad you feel for him, you can completely understand why he was never cast for this role in the first place. Add to this the complete disregard of the author for following what seems to be the obvious progression of events in favor of twists that take you completely by surprise, but still make complete sense and arise organically from the story itself, and you eventually give up thinking that you have any sense of where the story’s going or how any event is going to play out. From beginning to end, it feeds you familiar ideas and then completely subverts them, introduces clichés and then proceeds to tear them apart, and you laugh and pity and feel something the entire way through.
In short, Sir Apropos of Nothing is a book that will keep you turning page after page – not necessarily because of the gripping drama (although it has that) or because of any breezy humor (although it has that too), or because the narration itself oozes suspense (although it often does), but because, with the rapid infusion of new and creative ideas and the hidden depths of character constantly bubbling to the surface in everyone involved, you honestly never know what’s going to happen next. If you like fantasy and can stand to have your expectations messed with, Apropos is certainly apropos.
Bob Mann (459 KP) rated If Beale Street Could Talk (2018) in Movies
Sep 28, 2021
Love and Rage against the machine.
The baby asked,
‘Is there not one righteous among them?”
― James Baldwin, If Beale Street Could Talk
Beale Street refers to the jumpin’ heart of Memphis where Louis Armstrong was born. As explained in text from Baldwin’s source book (requiring a speed read!) it’s used as a metaphor for the birthplace of every black person in America. (“Every black person in America was born on Beale Street“). But the story is set in Harlem, New York, and with this intellectual stretch, before I even get past the title, I am immediately reaching for the “P-word”, of which more later.
The Plot
Tish (KiKi Layne) is 19 and in love with her lifelong friend ‘Fonny’ (Stephan James). So much in love in fact (and so careless) that Tish is now pregnant with his child. Tish must break this news to both families herself, since Fonny is inside awaiting trial for a vicious rape that he claims he didn’t commit. Tish and their joint families are trying to help, but can Fonny be released in time to see the birth of his child? Or are the institutions so set against him that release is impossible and death row might await?
Interwoven with Love and Anger
At its heart, this film portrays a truly beautiful love story. Tish and Fonny (both adorably played by the young leads) are friends becoming more than friends. We see their emerging love through flashback scenes. Some of these, particularly one on a metro train, are exquisitely done; long gazes into eyes, starting as one thing and ending as another.
In another scene, Fonny takes Tish’s virginity, and it’s done with style, taste and finesse. For younger teens this should be compulsory viewing as an antidote to all the horrible porn they are seeing on the internet: THIS is what sex, based on a foundation of true love, is all about. (The film is UK15 rated for “infrequent very strong language, strong sex” – I actually agree with the rating for the language (and actually I think an act of marital violence should also have also been referenced)…. but not for the sex, which should be 12A).
It’s a love story then? Well, yes, but offset against that, it’s a very angry film, seething with rage about how the police force and the justice system is set ‘against the black man’. Director Barry Jenkins (of – eventual – Oscar winner “Moonlight” fame) has a message to impart and he is intent on imparting it.
A great ensemble performance
The film didn’t get a SAG nomination for the ensemble cast, but it almost feels that they missed out here. As well as the two young leads being spectacular, the whole of the rest of the cast really gel well together, particularly the respective parents: Colman Domingo (“Selma“) as Tish’s father Joseph; Regina King as Tish’s mother Sharon; Michael Beach (“Patriots Day“) as Fonny’s father Frank and Aunjanue Ellis as his bible-bashing mother. A dramatic scene where they all collectively hear the news about the pregnancy is both comical and shocking in equal measure.
Poor sound mixing
If this film gets an Oscar nomination for sound, I’ll frankly be cross! There is significant use of sonorous, bass-heavy music and effects (including a lovely cello theme by Nicholas Britell) – all very effective; there is a lot of earnest and quietly spoken dialogue between the characters – also moody and effective. Unfortunately the two are mixed together in some scenes and frankly I couldn’t make out what was being said. Most frustrating.
In addition, there is voiceover narration from Tish (if you follow my blog regularly you KNOW what I think about that!). Actually, this isn’t as overly intrusive as in films like “The Hate U Give“, but it sounds like it was recorded in a dustbin! It’s a bit like that effect you get with headphones where the plug isn’t quite in the socket, and everything sounds way off and tinny. When combined with Layne’s accent the effect, again, made the dialogue difficult to comprehend.
The c-word and the n-word
There’s a degree of bad language in the film, albeit mild in comparison to “The Favourite“! Tish’s sister (Teyonah Parris) uses the c-word in one very funny dissing of Fonny’s ‘up-themselves’ sisters (Ebony Obsidian and Dominique Thorne). But the n-word is used repeatedly during the film, and that I can never get used to. I ‘get it’ (in the sense that I understand the perception) that this is a word that ‘only black people can use between themselves’. But this just feels elitist and wrong to me. At a time when Viggo Mortensen gets crucified for using it once (while being descriptive and in-context) during a press junket for “Green Book“, I just feel that if a word is taboo it should be taboo, period.
The p-word
My p-word here is “pretentious”. Barry Jenkins clearly feels he has something to prove after the success of “Moonlight“, and there are certainly moments of directorial brilliance in the film. As previously mentioned, the sex scene is one of the best I’ve seen in a long while. Also beautifully done are a birthing scene and two confrontational scenes in Puerto Rico. But there are also moments that seem to be staged, artificial and too ‘arty’ for their own good. Any hidden meaning behind them completely passed me by. (Examples are Sharon’s wig scene and a pan around Fonny’s wood sculpture). It all seems to be “trying too hard”.
Hate for the police is also writ large on the film, with every discriminatory police officer in the whole of the US embodied in the wicked sneering face of the police office Bell (Ed Skrein).
A platform that should be used for more than ranting
This is a film written and directed by an American black man (Jenkins) and largely fully cast with American black people. And I’m a white Englishman commenting on it. I’m clearly unqualified to pass judgement on how black America really feels about things! But comment I will from this fug of ignorance.
It feels to me that the “Black Lives Movement” has given, at long last, black film-makers like Jenkins a platform in cinema to present from. This is a great thing. But I’m sensing that at the moment the tone of the output from that platform (such as this film) seems to me heavily tinged with anger: a scream of frustration about the system and racial injustice over the years. It’s the film-makers right to make films about subjects dear to them. And I’m sure this summer we’ll sadly again see atrocities as previously seen in the likes of Ferguson and Dallas, fuelling the fire of hate. But I would personally really like to see someone like Jenkins use his undoubted talents to make a more uplifting film: a film reflecting the more positive strives that are happening in society, allowing for people of all races and all sexual orientations to make their way in business (not drug-running or crime!) and/or life in general. Those good news stories – the positive side of race relations – are out there and my view is that someone like Barry Jenkins should be telling them.
Final thoughts
I wasn’t as much of a fan of “Moonlight” as the Academy, and this film also left me conflicted. The film is well-made and the cast is very engaging. It also has a love story at its heart that is moody but well-done. Overall though the movie felt over-engineered and a little pretentious, and that knocked it down a few pegs for me.
‘Is there not one righteous among them?”
― James Baldwin, If Beale Street Could Talk
Beale Street refers to the jumpin’ heart of Memphis where Louis Armstrong was born. As explained in text from Baldwin’s source book (requiring a speed read!) it’s used as a metaphor for the birthplace of every black person in America. (“Every black person in America was born on Beale Street“). But the story is set in Harlem, New York, and with this intellectual stretch, before I even get past the title, I am immediately reaching for the “P-word”, of which more later.
The Plot
Tish (KiKi Layne) is 19 and in love with her lifelong friend ‘Fonny’ (Stephan James). So much in love in fact (and so careless) that Tish is now pregnant with his child. Tish must break this news to both families herself, since Fonny is inside awaiting trial for a vicious rape that he claims he didn’t commit. Tish and their joint families are trying to help, but can Fonny be released in time to see the birth of his child? Or are the institutions so set against him that release is impossible and death row might await?
Interwoven with Love and Anger
At its heart, this film portrays a truly beautiful love story. Tish and Fonny (both adorably played by the young leads) are friends becoming more than friends. We see their emerging love through flashback scenes. Some of these, particularly one on a metro train, are exquisitely done; long gazes into eyes, starting as one thing and ending as another.
In another scene, Fonny takes Tish’s virginity, and it’s done with style, taste and finesse. For younger teens this should be compulsory viewing as an antidote to all the horrible porn they are seeing on the internet: THIS is what sex, based on a foundation of true love, is all about. (The film is UK15 rated for “infrequent very strong language, strong sex” – I actually agree with the rating for the language (and actually I think an act of marital violence should also have also been referenced)…. but not for the sex, which should be 12A).
It’s a love story then? Well, yes, but offset against that, it’s a very angry film, seething with rage about how the police force and the justice system is set ‘against the black man’. Director Barry Jenkins (of – eventual – Oscar winner “Moonlight” fame) has a message to impart and he is intent on imparting it.
A great ensemble performance
The film didn’t get a SAG nomination for the ensemble cast, but it almost feels that they missed out here. As well as the two young leads being spectacular, the whole of the rest of the cast really gel well together, particularly the respective parents: Colman Domingo (“Selma“) as Tish’s father Joseph; Regina King as Tish’s mother Sharon; Michael Beach (“Patriots Day“) as Fonny’s father Frank and Aunjanue Ellis as his bible-bashing mother. A dramatic scene where they all collectively hear the news about the pregnancy is both comical and shocking in equal measure.
Poor sound mixing
If this film gets an Oscar nomination for sound, I’ll frankly be cross! There is significant use of sonorous, bass-heavy music and effects (including a lovely cello theme by Nicholas Britell) – all very effective; there is a lot of earnest and quietly spoken dialogue between the characters – also moody and effective. Unfortunately the two are mixed together in some scenes and frankly I couldn’t make out what was being said. Most frustrating.
In addition, there is voiceover narration from Tish (if you follow my blog regularly you KNOW what I think about that!). Actually, this isn’t as overly intrusive as in films like “The Hate U Give“, but it sounds like it was recorded in a dustbin! It’s a bit like that effect you get with headphones where the plug isn’t quite in the socket, and everything sounds way off and tinny. When combined with Layne’s accent the effect, again, made the dialogue difficult to comprehend.
The c-word and the n-word
There’s a degree of bad language in the film, albeit mild in comparison to “The Favourite“! Tish’s sister (Teyonah Parris) uses the c-word in one very funny dissing of Fonny’s ‘up-themselves’ sisters (Ebony Obsidian and Dominique Thorne). But the n-word is used repeatedly during the film, and that I can never get used to. I ‘get it’ (in the sense that I understand the perception) that this is a word that ‘only black people can use between themselves’. But this just feels elitist and wrong to me. At a time when Viggo Mortensen gets crucified for using it once (while being descriptive and in-context) during a press junket for “Green Book“, I just feel that if a word is taboo it should be taboo, period.
The p-word
My p-word here is “pretentious”. Barry Jenkins clearly feels he has something to prove after the success of “Moonlight“, and there are certainly moments of directorial brilliance in the film. As previously mentioned, the sex scene is one of the best I’ve seen in a long while. Also beautifully done are a birthing scene and two confrontational scenes in Puerto Rico. But there are also moments that seem to be staged, artificial and too ‘arty’ for their own good. Any hidden meaning behind them completely passed me by. (Examples are Sharon’s wig scene and a pan around Fonny’s wood sculpture). It all seems to be “trying too hard”.
Hate for the police is also writ large on the film, with every discriminatory police officer in the whole of the US embodied in the wicked sneering face of the police office Bell (Ed Skrein).
A platform that should be used for more than ranting
This is a film written and directed by an American black man (Jenkins) and largely fully cast with American black people. And I’m a white Englishman commenting on it. I’m clearly unqualified to pass judgement on how black America really feels about things! But comment I will from this fug of ignorance.
It feels to me that the “Black Lives Movement” has given, at long last, black film-makers like Jenkins a platform in cinema to present from. This is a great thing. But I’m sensing that at the moment the tone of the output from that platform (such as this film) seems to me heavily tinged with anger: a scream of frustration about the system and racial injustice over the years. It’s the film-makers right to make films about subjects dear to them. And I’m sure this summer we’ll sadly again see atrocities as previously seen in the likes of Ferguson and Dallas, fuelling the fire of hate. But I would personally really like to see someone like Jenkins use his undoubted talents to make a more uplifting film: a film reflecting the more positive strives that are happening in society, allowing for people of all races and all sexual orientations to make their way in business (not drug-running or crime!) and/or life in general. Those good news stories – the positive side of race relations – are out there and my view is that someone like Barry Jenkins should be telling them.
Final thoughts
I wasn’t as much of a fan of “Moonlight” as the Academy, and this film also left me conflicted. The film is well-made and the cast is very engaging. It also has a love story at its heart that is moody but well-done. Overall though the movie felt over-engineered and a little pretentious, and that knocked it down a few pegs for me.
Haley Mathiot (9 KP) rated Crime and Punishment in Books
Apr 27, 2018
**spoilers**
Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky. read by Anthony Heald.
Genre: Fiction, classic
Rating: 5
Sin, Sentence, and Salvation
The allegory of Crime and Punishment
Crime and Punishment, one of the more famous works of Fyodor Dostoevsky, is considered “the first great novel of his mature period,” (Frank, 1995) and is one of his more famous books, rivaled only by The Brothers Karamazov. What makes Crime and Punishment such a classic? Perhaps because it is a picture of the only classic, and greatest story of all time. Crime and Punishment is an allegory of Salvation.
Self-justified
The main character, Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov, was a poor student at a university, and was overcome with hate toward an old pawnbroker, and decided to rid the world of her for the greater good of everyone. He believed that she was a “louse,” and since everyone would be happier without her, his actions would be justified. He believed that he had broken the letter of the law only, but that it didn’t have any authority over him anyway because it was written by people just as low as himself. He didn’t believe in God, and in prison he was convinced that he didn’t deserve his treatment, and that it was something he simply needed to get over with. He had no higher authority, so he said “my conscience is at rest.” This is a picture of man before he is touched by the merciful salvation of Christ.
A Troubled Man
Although Raskolnikov justified his actions in killing the old woman, he still felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and fear over what he did. He worked very hard at keeping it a secret, and at first he thought he could live with the guilt that sat in back of his mind, but he was wrong. Raskolnikov had horrible dreams, was always sick, and one of the other characters noticed that he was constantly “set off by little things” for no apparent reason (though the reader knew that it was only because it reminded him of his crime). This represents a man who knows in his heart that he is a sinner, but who will not turn and repent from his sin.
Unending Love
Sonya Semyonovna Marmeladov was the daughter of a drunkard who “took the yellow card” and prostituted herself to support her family. Throughout the book, Sonya began to love Raskolnikov. Eventually, Raskolnikov told Sonya his secret. Sonya was horrified, but still loved him and forgave him after her initial shock wore off. As Raskolnikov was fighting inside with his conscience and his sins, he repeatedly snapped at her, refused her comfort, yelled at her, and so on. He was a bitter, angry, hateful man—and yet Sonya forgave him for everything he did to her, and everything he had done in his past. What redeeming quality Sonya saw in the wretch and why she forgave him, one cannot begin to comprehend; aside from the simple truth that Sonya was a loving, gentile, merciful girl. She saw that Raskolnikov needed someone to love him and she reached out to him, even when he repeatedly pushed her away. Sonya’s love for him is a picture of Christ’s unending and perfect love to His sinful people.
A Silent Witness
When Raskolnikov finally broke down and confessed his crime, Sonya moved to Siberia with him. Raskolnikov expected this, and knew that telling her not to come would be fruitless. She visited him often in prison and wrote to his family for him. But although Raskolnikov expected her to preach to him and push the Gospel in his face, she did not. Sonya followed the scripture’s instruction to Christian wives with non-Christian husbands in 1 Peter 3:1—“ Wives, in the same way be submissive to your husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the word, they may be won over without words by the behavior of their wives…” The verse tells women to be good examples of Christ to their non-Christian husbands rather than to preach to them and try to convert them, and that is exactly what Sonya did, even though she was not married to him. She did not try to convert him with words; rather she won him with her love. She did not push the Testament into Raskolnikov’s hands, he asked for it. When she did bring it, she did not pester him to read it. She had faith, and showed Raskolnikov the love of Christ through her actions. In the end, it paid off. Although Dostoevsky does not specifically say that Raskolnikov was converted, he does imply that he eventually became a Christian when he mused “Can not her own convictions now be mine?”
The truth will set you free
When Raskolnikov finally realized that he loved Sonya, he accepted that he was a criminal, and a murderer. When he finally accepted that he was a sinner, he repented and had a new life in him. He said he felt like “he had risen again” and that Sonya “lived only in his life.” By life, Dostoevsky refers to his mentality. Before, he had been a living dead man in prison. He was hated by his inmates, was almost killed by them in an outbreak, was unaffected by anything that happened to him or his family, and eventually became ill from it all. But after his resurrection, he repented from his sins, learned to move on with his life, and started to change. He began to converse with his inmates, and they no longer hated him. Sonya was alive in his “life” because of her love for him. When he was changed, she was so happy that she became sick with joy, to the point that she was ill in bed. Dostoevsky paints a picture of a redeemed man at the end of his novel—redeemed both by the law, and by God. This picture symbolizes the miracle of salvation through Christ.
An amazing Allegory
Dostoevsky was a wonderful writer because of his use of dialogue to tell the story, his descriptive scenes, his powerfully developed characters, and their inner dialogue. He often times told you that something was happening by only telling you what the character who was speaking at the time said in response to what was going on. For example, if Sonya was standing up, Dostoevsky would write “… ‘hey, what do you stand for?’ for Sonya had stood.”
He also painted such good descriptions of his characters, that by the middle of the book he didn’t have to say that Raskolnikov was musing in the corner of the room, glaring at anyone who was brave enough to look at him, while he stewed in grief under his old ratted cap, because you knew from how well he was described earlier and how well his character was developed from the dialogue, that he was doing exactly that.
His characters are so real, they almost frighten you because you see the things they do and feel and experience reflected in your own life. They are not perfect—in fact they are all incredibly flawed, but they are a joy to read.
His ending is superb, because he closes the story without actually telling you everything. He never says that Raskolnikov was converted, he never says when he got out of prison, and he never says that Sonya and he were married, but you know that it happened. The last scene of the story is so superb, it makes you want to read it again, just to experience the joy all over again.
But what really made Crime and Punishment the classic that it was is the picture of the best story in the world, the classic story of the world, showing through. The story of the Gospel, of Jesus Christ’s unending love and sin and salvation is clearly portrayed, and makes a joyous read.
Works cited:
Quotes are from Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, 1886
Frank, Joseph (1995). Dostoevsky: The Miraculous Years, 1865–1871. Princeton University Press. ISBN 0-691-01587-2. (source found and taken from Wikipedia.com)
1 Peter 3:1 New International Version of The Holy Bible
Audio review: I had a hard time reading the book, simply because it was so huge that it was intimidating. I bought (ouch) the audio book of Crime and Punishment, recorded by Anthony Heald who did a fantastic job reading. His voices for the characters perfectly matched them, he felt for them, and he acted them. None of them were cheesy (yeah you all know how lame some male readers are at acting female voices). He read fast enough that the story didn't drag at all, but not so fast that you'd feel like you'd miss something if you didn't listen hard. I will definitely re-listen to the audio book.
Content: some gruesome descriptions of blood from the murder
Recommendation: Ages 14+
Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky. read by Anthony Heald.
Genre: Fiction, classic
Rating: 5
Sin, Sentence, and Salvation
The allegory of Crime and Punishment
Crime and Punishment, one of the more famous works of Fyodor Dostoevsky, is considered “the first great novel of his mature period,” (Frank, 1995) and is one of his more famous books, rivaled only by The Brothers Karamazov. What makes Crime and Punishment such a classic? Perhaps because it is a picture of the only classic, and greatest story of all time. Crime and Punishment is an allegory of Salvation.
Self-justified
The main character, Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov, was a poor student at a university, and was overcome with hate toward an old pawnbroker, and decided to rid the world of her for the greater good of everyone. He believed that she was a “louse,” and since everyone would be happier without her, his actions would be justified. He believed that he had broken the letter of the law only, but that it didn’t have any authority over him anyway because it was written by people just as low as himself. He didn’t believe in God, and in prison he was convinced that he didn’t deserve his treatment, and that it was something he simply needed to get over with. He had no higher authority, so he said “my conscience is at rest.” This is a picture of man before he is touched by the merciful salvation of Christ.
A Troubled Man
Although Raskolnikov justified his actions in killing the old woman, he still felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and fear over what he did. He worked very hard at keeping it a secret, and at first he thought he could live with the guilt that sat in back of his mind, but he was wrong. Raskolnikov had horrible dreams, was always sick, and one of the other characters noticed that he was constantly “set off by little things” for no apparent reason (though the reader knew that it was only because it reminded him of his crime). This represents a man who knows in his heart that he is a sinner, but who will not turn and repent from his sin.
Unending Love
Sonya Semyonovna Marmeladov was the daughter of a drunkard who “took the yellow card” and prostituted herself to support her family. Throughout the book, Sonya began to love Raskolnikov. Eventually, Raskolnikov told Sonya his secret. Sonya was horrified, but still loved him and forgave him after her initial shock wore off. As Raskolnikov was fighting inside with his conscience and his sins, he repeatedly snapped at her, refused her comfort, yelled at her, and so on. He was a bitter, angry, hateful man—and yet Sonya forgave him for everything he did to her, and everything he had done in his past. What redeeming quality Sonya saw in the wretch and why she forgave him, one cannot begin to comprehend; aside from the simple truth that Sonya was a loving, gentile, merciful girl. She saw that Raskolnikov needed someone to love him and she reached out to him, even when he repeatedly pushed her away. Sonya’s love for him is a picture of Christ’s unending and perfect love to His sinful people.
A Silent Witness
When Raskolnikov finally broke down and confessed his crime, Sonya moved to Siberia with him. Raskolnikov expected this, and knew that telling her not to come would be fruitless. She visited him often in prison and wrote to his family for him. But although Raskolnikov expected her to preach to him and push the Gospel in his face, she did not. Sonya followed the scripture’s instruction to Christian wives with non-Christian husbands in 1 Peter 3:1—“ Wives, in the same way be submissive to your husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the word, they may be won over without words by the behavior of their wives…” The verse tells women to be good examples of Christ to their non-Christian husbands rather than to preach to them and try to convert them, and that is exactly what Sonya did, even though she was not married to him. She did not try to convert him with words; rather she won him with her love. She did not push the Testament into Raskolnikov’s hands, he asked for it. When she did bring it, she did not pester him to read it. She had faith, and showed Raskolnikov the love of Christ through her actions. In the end, it paid off. Although Dostoevsky does not specifically say that Raskolnikov was converted, he does imply that he eventually became a Christian when he mused “Can not her own convictions now be mine?”
The truth will set you free
When Raskolnikov finally realized that he loved Sonya, he accepted that he was a criminal, and a murderer. When he finally accepted that he was a sinner, he repented and had a new life in him. He said he felt like “he had risen again” and that Sonya “lived only in his life.” By life, Dostoevsky refers to his mentality. Before, he had been a living dead man in prison. He was hated by his inmates, was almost killed by them in an outbreak, was unaffected by anything that happened to him or his family, and eventually became ill from it all. But after his resurrection, he repented from his sins, learned to move on with his life, and started to change. He began to converse with his inmates, and they no longer hated him. Sonya was alive in his “life” because of her love for him. When he was changed, she was so happy that she became sick with joy, to the point that she was ill in bed. Dostoevsky paints a picture of a redeemed man at the end of his novel—redeemed both by the law, and by God. This picture symbolizes the miracle of salvation through Christ.
An amazing Allegory
Dostoevsky was a wonderful writer because of his use of dialogue to tell the story, his descriptive scenes, his powerfully developed characters, and their inner dialogue. He often times told you that something was happening by only telling you what the character who was speaking at the time said in response to what was going on. For example, if Sonya was standing up, Dostoevsky would write “… ‘hey, what do you stand for?’ for Sonya had stood.”
He also painted such good descriptions of his characters, that by the middle of the book he didn’t have to say that Raskolnikov was musing in the corner of the room, glaring at anyone who was brave enough to look at him, while he stewed in grief under his old ratted cap, because you knew from how well he was described earlier and how well his character was developed from the dialogue, that he was doing exactly that.
His characters are so real, they almost frighten you because you see the things they do and feel and experience reflected in your own life. They are not perfect—in fact they are all incredibly flawed, but they are a joy to read.
His ending is superb, because he closes the story without actually telling you everything. He never says that Raskolnikov was converted, he never says when he got out of prison, and he never says that Sonya and he were married, but you know that it happened. The last scene of the story is so superb, it makes you want to read it again, just to experience the joy all over again.
But what really made Crime and Punishment the classic that it was is the picture of the best story in the world, the classic story of the world, showing through. The story of the Gospel, of Jesus Christ’s unending love and sin and salvation is clearly portrayed, and makes a joyous read.
Works cited:
Quotes are from Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, 1886
Frank, Joseph (1995). Dostoevsky: The Miraculous Years, 1865–1871. Princeton University Press. ISBN 0-691-01587-2. (source found and taken from Wikipedia.com)
1 Peter 3:1 New International Version of The Holy Bible
Audio review: I had a hard time reading the book, simply because it was so huge that it was intimidating. I bought (ouch) the audio book of Crime and Punishment, recorded by Anthony Heald who did a fantastic job reading. His voices for the characters perfectly matched them, he felt for them, and he acted them. None of them were cheesy (yeah you all know how lame some male readers are at acting female voices). He read fast enough that the story didn't drag at all, but not so fast that you'd feel like you'd miss something if you didn't listen hard. I will definitely re-listen to the audio book.
Content: some gruesome descriptions of blood from the murder
Recommendation: Ages 14+