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Bob Mann (459 KP) rated The Post (2017) in Movies
Sep 29, 2021
Landing the Hindenburg in a Thunderstorm.
What a combination: Streep, Hanks, Spielberg, Kaminski behind the camera, Williams behind the notes. What could possibly go wrong?
Nothing as it turns out. After, for me, the disappointment of “The BFG” here is Spielberg on firm ground and at the height of his game.
It’s 1971 and the New York Times is in trouble for publishing what became known as “The Pentagon Papers”: a damning account of multiple administration’s dodgy dealings around the Vietnam War, put together by Robert McNamara (Bruce Greenwood, “Star Trek: Into Darkness“) and meant for “posterity” – not for publication! Watching from the sidelines with frustration at their competitor’s scoop are the Washington Post’s editor Ben Bradlee (Tom Hanks, “Bridge of Spies“, “Inferno“) and the new owner Kay Graham (Meryl Streep, “Florence Foster Jenkins“, “Suffragette“). With immaculate timing, Graham is taking the paper public, so needs the newspaper embroiled in any sort of scandal like a hole in the head. But with the US First Amendment under pressure, will Graham and Bradlee put their business and their freedom at risk by publishing and being damned?
Bradlee (Tom Hanks) and Graham (Meryl Streep) in the Washington Post’s newsroom.
Both of the leads play characters that are quite strikingly out of character from their normal roles.
In a seamingly endless run of ‘kick-ass’ women in the movie driving seat, here I expected Streep to be in full “Iron Lady” mode, but in fact she starts the film as quite the opposite: nervous, timid, vascillating. For although the story is about “The Washington Post” and “The Pentagon Papers”, the real story is about Graham herself (Liz Hannah’s script is actually based on Graham’s autobiography). In many ways it’s about a woman, in a male world, overcoming her fear and finding her own voice. As has been demonstrated in many recent films (“Hidden Figures” for example) the working world for woman has changed so markedly since the 60’s and 70’s that it’s almost impossible to relate to these chavenistic attitudes. Graham is repeatedly downtrodden as “not good enough” by her underlings within earshot, and then thanks them “for their frankness”. When the women folk retire at dinner, to let the men-folk talk politics, Graham meekly goes with them. Even her father, for God’s sake, left the newspaper not to her but to her (now late) husband! It’s no surprise then that she is coming from a pretty low base of self-confidence, and her journey in the film – as expertly played by Streep – is an extraordinarily rousing one.
The real deal: Ben Bradlee and Kay Graham.
Hanks, normally the guy you’d most like to invite round for dinner (@tomhanks if you happen to be reading this sir, that’s a genuine invitation… we make a mean lasagne here!) also plays somewhat outside of his normal character here. As Bradlee, he is snappy, brusque and businesslike. Although I don’t think he could ever quite match the irascibility of the character’s portrayal by Jason Robards in the classic “All the President’s Men” – who could? – its a character with real screen presence.
The similarities with Alan J Pakula’s 1976 classic Watergate movie – one of my personal favourites – don’t stop there. The same sets that were once populated by Redford and Hoffman are gloriously reproduced with Spielberg and Janusz Kaminski delivering great tracking shots through the newsroom. (Watch out for Sacha Spielberg – daughter of Stephen and Kate Capshaw – who also turns up there delivering a package).
The scoop revealed: Odenkirk, Hanks and David Cross get the low-down.
The supporting cast includes Sarah Paulson (so memorable in “The Trial of O.J. Simpson”) as Bradlee’s wife Tony, Bradley Whitford (“The West Wing”, “Get Out“) and Tracy Letts (“The Big Short“) as two of Graham’s board advisors and Jesse Plemons (“The Program“, “Bridge of Spies“) as the lead legal advisor. Particularly impressive though is Bob Odenkirk (“Breaking Bad”) as Ben Bagdikian, Bradlee’s lead investigative reporter on the case: all stress, loose change and paranoia in his dealings with the leaky Daniel Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys).
Bagdikian (Bob Odenkirk) ordering a drink for himself and his travelling companion.
In a memorable piece of casting Richard Nixon is played by…. Richard Nixon. Although a silluohetted Curzon Dobell stalks the Oval office, the ex-president’s original phone recordings are played on the soundtrack. (There, I knew those recordings would be useful for something… thank heavens he kept them all!)
The film also demonstrates in fascinating style the newsprint business of yesteryear. When I click a button on my PC and a beautifully laser-printed page streams out of my Epson printer, it still seems like witchcraft to me! But it is extraordinary to think that newspapers in those days were put together by typesetters manually building up the pages from embossed metal letters laboriously slotted into a frame. Brilliantly evocative.
Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys) takes a risk.
If Spielberg has a fault, it is one of sentimentality – something that is pointed out in Susan Lacy’s superb HBO documentary on Spielberg (something I have yet to write a review on, but if you like Spielberg you should definitely seek out). Here he falls into that trap again, with an unnecessary bedroom scene between Graham and her daughter tipping the screenplay into mawkishness. It’s unnecessary since we don’t need the points raised rammed down our throats again. It’s something repeated in a rather bizarre final scene with Graham walking down the steps of the supreme court with admiring woman – only woman – watching her. These irritations tarnish for me what could have been a top-rated film.
But the movie is an impressive watch and older viewers, and anyone interested in American political history will, I think, love it. The film, especially with its nice epilogue, did make me immediately want to come home and put “All the President’s Men” on again… which is never a bad thing. Highly recommended.
Nothing as it turns out. After, for me, the disappointment of “The BFG” here is Spielberg on firm ground and at the height of his game.
It’s 1971 and the New York Times is in trouble for publishing what became known as “The Pentagon Papers”: a damning account of multiple administration’s dodgy dealings around the Vietnam War, put together by Robert McNamara (Bruce Greenwood, “Star Trek: Into Darkness“) and meant for “posterity” – not for publication! Watching from the sidelines with frustration at their competitor’s scoop are the Washington Post’s editor Ben Bradlee (Tom Hanks, “Bridge of Spies“, “Inferno“) and the new owner Kay Graham (Meryl Streep, “Florence Foster Jenkins“, “Suffragette“). With immaculate timing, Graham is taking the paper public, so needs the newspaper embroiled in any sort of scandal like a hole in the head. But with the US First Amendment under pressure, will Graham and Bradlee put their business and their freedom at risk by publishing and being damned?
Bradlee (Tom Hanks) and Graham (Meryl Streep) in the Washington Post’s newsroom.
Both of the leads play characters that are quite strikingly out of character from their normal roles.
In a seamingly endless run of ‘kick-ass’ women in the movie driving seat, here I expected Streep to be in full “Iron Lady” mode, but in fact she starts the film as quite the opposite: nervous, timid, vascillating. For although the story is about “The Washington Post” and “The Pentagon Papers”, the real story is about Graham herself (Liz Hannah’s script is actually based on Graham’s autobiography). In many ways it’s about a woman, in a male world, overcoming her fear and finding her own voice. As has been demonstrated in many recent films (“Hidden Figures” for example) the working world for woman has changed so markedly since the 60’s and 70’s that it’s almost impossible to relate to these chavenistic attitudes. Graham is repeatedly downtrodden as “not good enough” by her underlings within earshot, and then thanks them “for their frankness”. When the women folk retire at dinner, to let the men-folk talk politics, Graham meekly goes with them. Even her father, for God’s sake, left the newspaper not to her but to her (now late) husband! It’s no surprise then that she is coming from a pretty low base of self-confidence, and her journey in the film – as expertly played by Streep – is an extraordinarily rousing one.
The real deal: Ben Bradlee and Kay Graham.
Hanks, normally the guy you’d most like to invite round for dinner (@tomhanks if you happen to be reading this sir, that’s a genuine invitation… we make a mean lasagne here!) also plays somewhat outside of his normal character here. As Bradlee, he is snappy, brusque and businesslike. Although I don’t think he could ever quite match the irascibility of the character’s portrayal by Jason Robards in the classic “All the President’s Men” – who could? – its a character with real screen presence.
The similarities with Alan J Pakula’s 1976 classic Watergate movie – one of my personal favourites – don’t stop there. The same sets that were once populated by Redford and Hoffman are gloriously reproduced with Spielberg and Janusz Kaminski delivering great tracking shots through the newsroom. (Watch out for Sacha Spielberg – daughter of Stephen and Kate Capshaw – who also turns up there delivering a package).
The scoop revealed: Odenkirk, Hanks and David Cross get the low-down.
The supporting cast includes Sarah Paulson (so memorable in “The Trial of O.J. Simpson”) as Bradlee’s wife Tony, Bradley Whitford (“The West Wing”, “Get Out“) and Tracy Letts (“The Big Short“) as two of Graham’s board advisors and Jesse Plemons (“The Program“, “Bridge of Spies“) as the lead legal advisor. Particularly impressive though is Bob Odenkirk (“Breaking Bad”) as Ben Bagdikian, Bradlee’s lead investigative reporter on the case: all stress, loose change and paranoia in his dealings with the leaky Daniel Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys).
Bagdikian (Bob Odenkirk) ordering a drink for himself and his travelling companion.
In a memorable piece of casting Richard Nixon is played by…. Richard Nixon. Although a silluohetted Curzon Dobell stalks the Oval office, the ex-president’s original phone recordings are played on the soundtrack. (There, I knew those recordings would be useful for something… thank heavens he kept them all!)
The film also demonstrates in fascinating style the newsprint business of yesteryear. When I click a button on my PC and a beautifully laser-printed page streams out of my Epson printer, it still seems like witchcraft to me! But it is extraordinary to think that newspapers in those days were put together by typesetters manually building up the pages from embossed metal letters laboriously slotted into a frame. Brilliantly evocative.
Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys) takes a risk.
If Spielberg has a fault, it is one of sentimentality – something that is pointed out in Susan Lacy’s superb HBO documentary on Spielberg (something I have yet to write a review on, but if you like Spielberg you should definitely seek out). Here he falls into that trap again, with an unnecessary bedroom scene between Graham and her daughter tipping the screenplay into mawkishness. It’s unnecessary since we don’t need the points raised rammed down our throats again. It’s something repeated in a rather bizarre final scene with Graham walking down the steps of the supreme court with admiring woman – only woman – watching her. These irritations tarnish for me what could have been a top-rated film.
But the movie is an impressive watch and older viewers, and anyone interested in American political history will, I think, love it. The film, especially with its nice epilogue, did make me immediately want to come home and put “All the President’s Men” on again… which is never a bad thing. Highly recommended.
Daniel Boyd (1066 KP) rated The Last of Us Part II in Video Games
Jun 30, 2020 (Updated Jul 1, 2020)
Gameplay (2 more)
Graphics
Sound
I'm Not Mad, I'm Just Disappointed
Contains spoilers, click to show
It's been a while since I've written anything, but I couldn't let this one go by without saying anything about it.
The Last Of Us Part 2 is the biggest disappointment of 2020.
I finished the game a few days ago and have been letting it process in my mind in the hopes that it will somehow make more sense to me. So far that hasn't been the case.
Let me provide you with some context, I wanted to like this game more than anyone. The first Last Of Us is one of my favourite games of all time and because of the spectacular writing and performances in that first game, I was really excited to see what would happen to these characters. This was definitely one of my most anticipated releases in recent years and I'm genuinely in awe at how much of a let down it was, especially after the 10/10 reviews I had been reading leading up to the game's release.
Spoilers will follow from this point on as it's pretty difficult to discuss my reasoning for being let down by the game without getting in depth, so please tread carefully if you have yet to play through the game.
First off, I don't normally like to bring up my personal politics when discussing fictional media, but I do feel that it's necessary to mention that I am pro LGBTQ+ and none of my issues with this game stem from any sort of political bias that I may have.
The game opens slowly, juxtaposing the intense opening of the first game. However these slow opening few hours really allow you to drink in the breathtaking visuals and fantastic sound design. These elements really help to sell the cinematic nature of the game, along with consistently stellar performances.
Then we are shown the main conflict that will propel the story for the sequel. Joel is unceremoniosly murdered by Abby, a new character that we know nothing about at this point.
Now I don't have a problem with main characters being killed off in a story, in fact as a Tarantino fan, I relish it when it's done properly. The problem with Joel's death is the way that it was executed. First off, Joel and Tommy would never in a million years have blindly trusted this random faction that they've just bumped into enough to give them their names so quickly. They've both survived 25 years in the apocalypse and yet the writers still expect you to believe that they would be this naïve and stupid. Then, there's the fact that this is how they choose to introduce this new group that you are later expected to sympathize with and this character that they will later force you to play as for half the game. Why would anyone who is a fan of this world and these characters want to play and learn about this random ruthless killer?
Now, what you might be asking is "aren't Joel and Ellie ruthless killers at this point?" And you would be right, they are. However the point is that we were already invested in these characters before we seen them ruthlessly murdering infected and humans alike and therefore are able to put it down to them having to do what they had to in order to survive. With Abby you are introduced to her killing a beloved character from the first game for the sake of pure shock value.
The first game came out during an oversaturation period of zombie stories across media and yet because of it's stellar writing, it managed to stand out from the crowd and actually become one of the most unique games of the last generation in terms of the story it told. The story in this game feels so generic by comparison. I remember watching interviews with Neil Druckman in the lead up to the game's release where he would talk about how the main hurdle of writing this game was justifying it's existence after the first one ended so well. Really? You had seven years and another generic revenge plot was the best thing that you could come up with?
Another highlight from the first game was the fleshed out side characters that all felt deep and like they really existed in the world. Characters like Tess, Bill and Marlene all naturally fitted into the plot and felt necessary to the overall story being told. The same cannot be said for the side characters in this game. I have already mentioned how it is made impossible to sympathize with Abby and her crew after seeing what they did to Joel. There are two other new characters introduced called Yara and Lev. They are siblings, which put me in mind of Henry and Sam from the first game, but where Henry and Sam felt layered and genuine, Yara and Lev feel shallow and shoehorned in to give Abby's plotline some narrative weight.
Then there is the strange pacing of the story. I feel like I must reiterate, they introduce a character that murders the beloved protagonist from the first game and later expect you to sympathize with her. Then there is the fact that you play as Ellie for the next 8 hours or so before they present you with a shocking cliffhanger, only to then force you to play as Abby for the next 10 hours. Not only are they making you play as the character that murdered Joel and Jessie in cold blood, but every extra hour that they unsuccessfully attempt to make you feel sorry for Abby is another hour before you can get back to see how the cliffhanger, (that was introduced 10 hours ago,) is resolved. And then, they bafflingly make you fight Ellie while playing as Abby. Why would the game expect me to want to hurt this character that I care about as this brand new random stranger?
You are then eventually given control back as Ellie and the game lulls you into a false sense of thinking that you are finally done playing as Abby. Then Ellie makes the totally nonsensical decision to abandon a nice, cushty, quiet farm life that she's carved out for herself, to go after Abby yet again.
After that, you guessed it! You are forced to play as Abby yet again. Thankfully it's only briefly as we then at long last get to properly play as Ellie again. Not sure if you remember her at this point, she's the one that's in all of the trailers and posters and on the cover of the damn game?
Then we get what is probably the most anticlimactic ending in the history of gaming. Ellie lets Abby go. After Abby killed Joel and Jessie and crippled Tommy and after Ellie murdered all of Abby's friends and after Ellie abandoned her girlfriend and step-son and had her fingers bitten off, she's just like, "nah fam, I'm good."
I'm sorry, what?
You are going to break your promise to Tommy and let the person that murdered your father figure get away? Why?
If getting your revenge wasn't worth it, you should have really realized that back on the farm when you were surrounded by people you love and a chance at a family life. If you chose to leave that behind you must be committed enough to see it through, otherwise it is all for nothing. There is subverting audience expectations and then there is having your characters make nonsensical decisions and I feel like TLOU2 was full of the latter.
On a positive note, the gameplay is extremely fun and satisfying. Every blow lands with more force and every bullet seems to strike even harder than in the first game. It does get a bit repetitive after a while and the actual function of taking out a group of enemies hasn't evolved a great deal since the first game, but I still really enjoyed it. The upgrading and crafting systems have also been fleshed out. This, along with the immaculate graphical presentation, tight, fluid animations, brilliant audio and expectedly phenomenal performances make for something with so much potential, with only the writing and direction letting it down. Unfortunately, writing and directing are both pretty essential in a story driven game.
Before I summarise, I'd like to highlight that I am not against stories that explore the moral grey area and don't have clear heroes and villains. For example, Metal Gear Solid is my favourite franchise in gaming and the whole point of that series is to show that there is no black and white, but we all do things for our own reasons. A good story should be able to make you see the things from the "villain's" point of view without being like, "look see what you did to them? That is why they are the way they are! Look see, she is a good person because she plays fetch with dogs!" In TLOU2 it all just feels so forced and unnatural. A good storyteller should show a character's motivations and then show their actions and leave it up to audience to decide if it's justified, instead of strictly saying, "this character is 100% justified in the heinous act that you just seen her commit, now you must be on her side!"
I think that's all that I've got to say and I guess at the very least, this game has got people talking. You cannot accuse it of playing it safe, but there are a ton of different ways that the plot could have went that probably would have been a lot more satisfying for fans of the series like myself. 6/10
The Last Of Us Part 2 is the biggest disappointment of 2020.
I finished the game a few days ago and have been letting it process in my mind in the hopes that it will somehow make more sense to me. So far that hasn't been the case.
Let me provide you with some context, I wanted to like this game more than anyone. The first Last Of Us is one of my favourite games of all time and because of the spectacular writing and performances in that first game, I was really excited to see what would happen to these characters. This was definitely one of my most anticipated releases in recent years and I'm genuinely in awe at how much of a let down it was, especially after the 10/10 reviews I had been reading leading up to the game's release.
Spoilers will follow from this point on as it's pretty difficult to discuss my reasoning for being let down by the game without getting in depth, so please tread carefully if you have yet to play through the game.
First off, I don't normally like to bring up my personal politics when discussing fictional media, but I do feel that it's necessary to mention that I am pro LGBTQ+ and none of my issues with this game stem from any sort of political bias that I may have.
The game opens slowly, juxtaposing the intense opening of the first game. However these slow opening few hours really allow you to drink in the breathtaking visuals and fantastic sound design. These elements really help to sell the cinematic nature of the game, along with consistently stellar performances.
Then we are shown the main conflict that will propel the story for the sequel. Joel is unceremoniosly murdered by Abby, a new character that we know nothing about at this point.
Now I don't have a problem with main characters being killed off in a story, in fact as a Tarantino fan, I relish it when it's done properly. The problem with Joel's death is the way that it was executed. First off, Joel and Tommy would never in a million years have blindly trusted this random faction that they've just bumped into enough to give them their names so quickly. They've both survived 25 years in the apocalypse and yet the writers still expect you to believe that they would be this naïve and stupid. Then, there's the fact that this is how they choose to introduce this new group that you are later expected to sympathize with and this character that they will later force you to play as for half the game. Why would anyone who is a fan of this world and these characters want to play and learn about this random ruthless killer?
Now, what you might be asking is "aren't Joel and Ellie ruthless killers at this point?" And you would be right, they are. However the point is that we were already invested in these characters before we seen them ruthlessly murdering infected and humans alike and therefore are able to put it down to them having to do what they had to in order to survive. With Abby you are introduced to her killing a beloved character from the first game for the sake of pure shock value.
The first game came out during an oversaturation period of zombie stories across media and yet because of it's stellar writing, it managed to stand out from the crowd and actually become one of the most unique games of the last generation in terms of the story it told. The story in this game feels so generic by comparison. I remember watching interviews with Neil Druckman in the lead up to the game's release where he would talk about how the main hurdle of writing this game was justifying it's existence after the first one ended so well. Really? You had seven years and another generic revenge plot was the best thing that you could come up with?
Another highlight from the first game was the fleshed out side characters that all felt deep and like they really existed in the world. Characters like Tess, Bill and Marlene all naturally fitted into the plot and felt necessary to the overall story being told. The same cannot be said for the side characters in this game. I have already mentioned how it is made impossible to sympathize with Abby and her crew after seeing what they did to Joel. There are two other new characters introduced called Yara and Lev. They are siblings, which put me in mind of Henry and Sam from the first game, but where Henry and Sam felt layered and genuine, Yara and Lev feel shallow and shoehorned in to give Abby's plotline some narrative weight.
Then there is the strange pacing of the story. I feel like I must reiterate, they introduce a character that murders the beloved protagonist from the first game and later expect you to sympathize with her. Then there is the fact that you play as Ellie for the next 8 hours or so before they present you with a shocking cliffhanger, only to then force you to play as Abby for the next 10 hours. Not only are they making you play as the character that murdered Joel and Jessie in cold blood, but every extra hour that they unsuccessfully attempt to make you feel sorry for Abby is another hour before you can get back to see how the cliffhanger, (that was introduced 10 hours ago,) is resolved. And then, they bafflingly make you fight Ellie while playing as Abby. Why would the game expect me to want to hurt this character that I care about as this brand new random stranger?
You are then eventually given control back as Ellie and the game lulls you into a false sense of thinking that you are finally done playing as Abby. Then Ellie makes the totally nonsensical decision to abandon a nice, cushty, quiet farm life that she's carved out for herself, to go after Abby yet again.
After that, you guessed it! You are forced to play as Abby yet again. Thankfully it's only briefly as we then at long last get to properly play as Ellie again. Not sure if you remember her at this point, she's the one that's in all of the trailers and posters and on the cover of the damn game?
Then we get what is probably the most anticlimactic ending in the history of gaming. Ellie lets Abby go. After Abby killed Joel and Jessie and crippled Tommy and after Ellie murdered all of Abby's friends and after Ellie abandoned her girlfriend and step-son and had her fingers bitten off, she's just like, "nah fam, I'm good."
I'm sorry, what?
You are going to break your promise to Tommy and let the person that murdered your father figure get away? Why?
If getting your revenge wasn't worth it, you should have really realized that back on the farm when you were surrounded by people you love and a chance at a family life. If you chose to leave that behind you must be committed enough to see it through, otherwise it is all for nothing. There is subverting audience expectations and then there is having your characters make nonsensical decisions and I feel like TLOU2 was full of the latter.
On a positive note, the gameplay is extremely fun and satisfying. Every blow lands with more force and every bullet seems to strike even harder than in the first game. It does get a bit repetitive after a while and the actual function of taking out a group of enemies hasn't evolved a great deal since the first game, but I still really enjoyed it. The upgrading and crafting systems have also been fleshed out. This, along with the immaculate graphical presentation, tight, fluid animations, brilliant audio and expectedly phenomenal performances make for something with so much potential, with only the writing and direction letting it down. Unfortunately, writing and directing are both pretty essential in a story driven game.
Before I summarise, I'd like to highlight that I am not against stories that explore the moral grey area and don't have clear heroes and villains. For example, Metal Gear Solid is my favourite franchise in gaming and the whole point of that series is to show that there is no black and white, but we all do things for our own reasons. A good story should be able to make you see the things from the "villain's" point of view without being like, "look see what you did to them? That is why they are the way they are! Look see, she is a good person because she plays fetch with dogs!" In TLOU2 it all just feels so forced and unnatural. A good storyteller should show a character's motivations and then show their actions and leave it up to audience to decide if it's justified, instead of strictly saying, "this character is 100% justified in the heinous act that you just seen her commit, now you must be on her side!"
I think that's all that I've got to say and I guess at the very least, this game has got people talking. You cannot accuse it of playing it safe, but there are a ton of different ways that the plot could have went that probably would have been a lot more satisfying for fans of the series like myself. 6/10
Hadley (567 KP) rated Those Bones Are Not My Child in Books
Nov 12, 2019
A different type of True Crime book (1 more)
Things you probably didn't know about the case
Writing transitions are confusing (1 more)
Smash poetry breaks up the flow
Toni Cade Bambara, a writer, documentary filmmaker and screenwriter, gives True Crime readers a unique viewpoint of the real Atlanta Child Murders. Bambara mostly writes from the eyes of Marzala, a mother of three whose oldest son goes missing during one of the worst murder sprees in Atlanta's history. Marzala and her family were not actual people during this time- - - all of them are based off of parents and siblings of the real victims. Not soon after Marzala does everything she can with the police to find her son, she joins a group of African-Americans that are outraged by the lack of progress to catch who is killing Atlanta's black children. This group forms what is called STOP (a citizen-run task force). For the majority of the book, Marzala with most of the black community in the area typed out letters to prominent government officials asking for help to stop the murders, also using Vietnam vets in the area to use their tracking skills to keep an eye on suspects, and investigating buildings that police refused to believe had anything to do with the childrens' disappearances and/or murders, which Bambara did an amazing job putting all the real facts together of the actual community members that were involved with this at the time. This story is upsetting, but enlightening on how politics may have caused so many children to be murdered. This is a story no reader will ever forget.
Bambara writes not in a normal narrative - - - just telling a story from specific viewpoints, but she often breaks off into smash poetry to depict a character's state-of-mind, which, sometimes can be off putting for the reader, breaking the flow of the story. Yet, the use of smash poetry combined with the era and the heart breaking subject at hand, separates Those Bones Are Not My Child from every True Crime book I have ever read. But a note for fans of True Crime, this story is from the view point of the victims' families and the search they went through to try and catch the murderer(s), unlike most TC books, which follow the police through the investigation leading to, usually, the capture of the perpetrator. From living in Atlanta during the time of the murders, Bambara was able to reconstruct the life of a black family in 1980's Georgia, while focusing on the effect these terrible crimes had on the surrounding community. Bambara did an amazing job on what most writers cannot.
The amount of characters, specifically the fictional ones, are very well created. She describes just enough to give readers the ability to tell them apart, showing every now and then from their own viewpoints. Out of all the characters, I came to really like Zala's two other children: Kenti and Kofi. One particular scene shows the strain of Sonny's disappearance on their family: " Zala parked the comb again and sat back. 'Listen, you two.' Kofi dropped down onto his knees. 'The police and the newspapers don't know what the hell is going on, so they feel stupid, because they're supposed to know, they're trained to know, they're paid to know. It's their job. Understand? But it's hard for grown-ups to admit they're stupid, especially if they're professionals like police and reporters. So they blame the children. Or they ignore them and fill up the papers with the hostages in Iran. Understand? And now... Jesus... they've got people calling those kids juvenile delinquents.'
'Don't cry.' Kenti tried to lean into her lap and got pushed away.
'They don't know a damn thing and they act like they don't want to know. So they blame the kids 'cause they can't speak up for themselves. They say the kids had no business being outdoors, getting themselves in trouble.'
'You let us go outdoors.'
'Of course I do, baby. We go lots of places, 'cause a lot of people fought hard for our right to go any damn where we please. But when the children go out like they've a right to and some maniac grabs them, then it's the children's fault or the parents who should've been watching every minute, like we don't have to work like dogs just to put food on the table.'
Kofi walked on his knees towards the bed, but he didn't lean on her like he wanted 'cause she might push him away. So he just put his hand on the mattress next to hers."
During the Atlanta Child Murders, victims were random, except for that they were children from the same neighborhood, and they were African-American. At first, police didn't believe a serial murderer was going around abducting children, but rather that 'poor, broken' families were killing their own. In the Prologue, Bambara shows that the victims' families and private detectives came up with more ideas of the motive than the police did:
" White cops taking license in Black neighborhoods.
The Klan and other Nazi thugs on the rampage.
Diabolical scientists experimenting on Third World people.
Demonic cults engaging in human sacrifices.
A 'Nam vet unable to make the transition.
UFO aliens conducting exploratory surgery.
Whites avenging Dewey Baugus, a white youth beaten to death in spring '79, allegedly by Black youths.
Parents of a raped child running amok with 'justice.'
Porno filmmakers doing snuff flicks for entertainment.
A band of child molesters covering their tracks.
New drug forces killing the young (unwitting?) couriers of the old in a bid for turf.
Unreconstructed peckerwoods trying to topple the Black administration.
Plantation kidnappers of slave labor issuing the pink slip.
White mercenaries using Black targets to train death squadrons for overseas jobs and for domestic wars to come. "
All of these theories are explored with evidence in Those Bones Are Not My Child. One scene in Part III, Zala's cop friend, B.J. shows up to her house to tell her to stop bringing attention to the investigation, " 'That Eubanks woman - - - your husband's friend? - - - she said you were bringing in the TV networks to blow the case open. I thought we had an agreement to keep each other informed. This morning I find out through the grapevine that you parents got a medium stashed in a hotel here in town, some woman who's been making headlines up north with cases that supposedly have the authorities stumped. If you knew how much work has been done on this case - - - no, listen, don't interrupt me. Then I find out - - - and not from you - - - that some of you parents are planning to tour the country cracking on the investigation. That's not too smart. And you should have told me.' " These two may have been fictional characters, but in Bambara's Acknowledgments, she states that all scenarios were true, and that she made B.J. to tell about the actual police officers who were involved with the investigation.
The tension between the police and the public is felt throughout the entire story. Despite all of the work the citizen task force put in, police arrested a man named Wayne Williams for the murder of two adult victims (who, due to their mental age, which was stated to be that of children, were placed on the victims' list of the Atlanta Child Murders): " Wayne Williams, charged with the murder of twenty-seven-year-old Nathaniel Cater and implicated in the murder of the other adults and children on the official list..." Zala, having worked for almost a year at the STOP offices, she, along with most of the community, doubt that Williams was a lone killer or even the killer at all. Williams never stood trial for the childrens' murders, but the police informed the public that he did it, case closed - - - although, after Williams' arrest, children were still being abducted and their bodies were still being found. Even after Williams' trial and the guilty verdict for two adult victims, some people stuck around to continue to investigate and claim Williams a 'scapegoat' of politics: " There were still pockets of interest and people who wouldn't let the case go. James Baldwin had been coming to town off and on; a book was rumored. Sondra O'Neale, the Emory University professor, hadn't abandoned her research, either. From time to time, TV and movie types were in the city poking around for an angle. Camille Bell was moving to Tallahassee to write up the case from the point of view of the STOP committee. The vets had taken over The Call now that Speaker was working full-time with the Central American Committee. The Revolutionary Communist Party kept running pieces on the case in the Revolutionary Worker. Whenever Abby Mann sent down a point man for his proposed TV docudrama, the Atlanta officials and civil rights leaders would go off the deep end. " At the end of it all, the questions still remain: did Williams kill all of those children by himself? Was he part of a pornographic cult that killed the children? Or is Williams completely innocent, and the murderer(s) are still out there? In Those Bones Are Not My Child, I guarantee you will be left questioning if the police were right.
All in all, the writing transitions can become confusing sometimes, especially the interludes of smash poetry, but I highly recommend this book to people who like the True Crime genre, especially of any interest in this specific case.
Bambara writes not in a normal narrative - - - just telling a story from specific viewpoints, but she often breaks off into smash poetry to depict a character's state-of-mind, which, sometimes can be off putting for the reader, breaking the flow of the story. Yet, the use of smash poetry combined with the era and the heart breaking subject at hand, separates Those Bones Are Not My Child from every True Crime book I have ever read. But a note for fans of True Crime, this story is from the view point of the victims' families and the search they went through to try and catch the murderer(s), unlike most TC books, which follow the police through the investigation leading to, usually, the capture of the perpetrator. From living in Atlanta during the time of the murders, Bambara was able to reconstruct the life of a black family in 1980's Georgia, while focusing on the effect these terrible crimes had on the surrounding community. Bambara did an amazing job on what most writers cannot.
The amount of characters, specifically the fictional ones, are very well created. She describes just enough to give readers the ability to tell them apart, showing every now and then from their own viewpoints. Out of all the characters, I came to really like Zala's two other children: Kenti and Kofi. One particular scene shows the strain of Sonny's disappearance on their family: " Zala parked the comb again and sat back. 'Listen, you two.' Kofi dropped down onto his knees. 'The police and the newspapers don't know what the hell is going on, so they feel stupid, because they're supposed to know, they're trained to know, they're paid to know. It's their job. Understand? But it's hard for grown-ups to admit they're stupid, especially if they're professionals like police and reporters. So they blame the children. Or they ignore them and fill up the papers with the hostages in Iran. Understand? And now... Jesus... they've got people calling those kids juvenile delinquents.'
'Don't cry.' Kenti tried to lean into her lap and got pushed away.
'They don't know a damn thing and they act like they don't want to know. So they blame the kids 'cause they can't speak up for themselves. They say the kids had no business being outdoors, getting themselves in trouble.'
'You let us go outdoors.'
'Of course I do, baby. We go lots of places, 'cause a lot of people fought hard for our right to go any damn where we please. But when the children go out like they've a right to and some maniac grabs them, then it's the children's fault or the parents who should've been watching every minute, like we don't have to work like dogs just to put food on the table.'
Kofi walked on his knees towards the bed, but he didn't lean on her like he wanted 'cause she might push him away. So he just put his hand on the mattress next to hers."
During the Atlanta Child Murders, victims were random, except for that they were children from the same neighborhood, and they were African-American. At first, police didn't believe a serial murderer was going around abducting children, but rather that 'poor, broken' families were killing their own. In the Prologue, Bambara shows that the victims' families and private detectives came up with more ideas of the motive than the police did:
" White cops taking license in Black neighborhoods.
The Klan and other Nazi thugs on the rampage.
Diabolical scientists experimenting on Third World people.
Demonic cults engaging in human sacrifices.
A 'Nam vet unable to make the transition.
UFO aliens conducting exploratory surgery.
Whites avenging Dewey Baugus, a white youth beaten to death in spring '79, allegedly by Black youths.
Parents of a raped child running amok with 'justice.'
Porno filmmakers doing snuff flicks for entertainment.
A band of child molesters covering their tracks.
New drug forces killing the young (unwitting?) couriers of the old in a bid for turf.
Unreconstructed peckerwoods trying to topple the Black administration.
Plantation kidnappers of slave labor issuing the pink slip.
White mercenaries using Black targets to train death squadrons for overseas jobs and for domestic wars to come. "
All of these theories are explored with evidence in Those Bones Are Not My Child. One scene in Part III, Zala's cop friend, B.J. shows up to her house to tell her to stop bringing attention to the investigation, " 'That Eubanks woman - - - your husband's friend? - - - she said you were bringing in the TV networks to blow the case open. I thought we had an agreement to keep each other informed. This morning I find out through the grapevine that you parents got a medium stashed in a hotel here in town, some woman who's been making headlines up north with cases that supposedly have the authorities stumped. If you knew how much work has been done on this case - - - no, listen, don't interrupt me. Then I find out - - - and not from you - - - that some of you parents are planning to tour the country cracking on the investigation. That's not too smart. And you should have told me.' " These two may have been fictional characters, but in Bambara's Acknowledgments, she states that all scenarios were true, and that she made B.J. to tell about the actual police officers who were involved with the investigation.
The tension between the police and the public is felt throughout the entire story. Despite all of the work the citizen task force put in, police arrested a man named Wayne Williams for the murder of two adult victims (who, due to their mental age, which was stated to be that of children, were placed on the victims' list of the Atlanta Child Murders): " Wayne Williams, charged with the murder of twenty-seven-year-old Nathaniel Cater and implicated in the murder of the other adults and children on the official list..." Zala, having worked for almost a year at the STOP offices, she, along with most of the community, doubt that Williams was a lone killer or even the killer at all. Williams never stood trial for the childrens' murders, but the police informed the public that he did it, case closed - - - although, after Williams' arrest, children were still being abducted and their bodies were still being found. Even after Williams' trial and the guilty verdict for two adult victims, some people stuck around to continue to investigate and claim Williams a 'scapegoat' of politics: " There were still pockets of interest and people who wouldn't let the case go. James Baldwin had been coming to town off and on; a book was rumored. Sondra O'Neale, the Emory University professor, hadn't abandoned her research, either. From time to time, TV and movie types were in the city poking around for an angle. Camille Bell was moving to Tallahassee to write up the case from the point of view of the STOP committee. The vets had taken over The Call now that Speaker was working full-time with the Central American Committee. The Revolutionary Communist Party kept running pieces on the case in the Revolutionary Worker. Whenever Abby Mann sent down a point man for his proposed TV docudrama, the Atlanta officials and civil rights leaders would go off the deep end. " At the end of it all, the questions still remain: did Williams kill all of those children by himself? Was he part of a pornographic cult that killed the children? Or is Williams completely innocent, and the murderer(s) are still out there? In Those Bones Are Not My Child, I guarantee you will be left questioning if the police were right.
All in all, the writing transitions can become confusing sometimes, especially the interludes of smash poetry, but I highly recommend this book to people who like the True Crime genre, especially of any interest in this specific case.
Ryan Hill (152 KP) rated The Last Samurai (2003) in Movies
Jun 23, 2019
" I will tell you, how he lived"
The honour and code of the samurai has always been enticing to a Western civilisation that is far removed from such customs, which perhaps makes The Last Samurai such an enticing, enigmatic film. Edward Zwick crafts quite an epic adventure rich in mythology & thematic resonance that while traditionally Hollywood in its construction still manages to exist a cut above many such movies of its ilk, a touch of class surrounding how the story of Captain Nathan Algren is put together, based as it is on several real life legendary American figures who played key roles in the Satsuma Rebellion in Japan during the late 19th century. This isn't a direct re-telling of those events but serves as a leaping off point to construct a tale about a stranger in a strange land, of a man haunted by fighting an unjust war who rediscovers his honour & place in the world through a dying culture. Zwick's film is slick, sweeping, beautifully shot and frequently involving, backed up by a strong performance by Tom Cruise in one of those roles that remind you just what a good actor he can be.
In the role of Algren, Cruise begins a dejected man living out of a bottle, bereft of purpose & suffering post-Civil War nightmares of a man touted as a hero despite feeling the guilt of slaughtering Indians crushed under the might of a military machine; in that sense, The Last Samurai is very anti-war in its message, John Logan's story painting the Americans and specifically the Imperialist Japanese not in the greatest light. Cruise takes Algren on a traditional voyage of discovery, first pitted against the samurai code & eventually becoming consumed by it, consumed by the similarity of the way of the warrior between both cultures - and Ken Watanabe's dignified samurai 'rebel' Katsumoto learns from him, as well as the other way around, with Cruise remaining stoic & only getting flashes of a chance to display the usual Cruise charm, but that's OK - Algren isn't the kind of character to benefit from that, Cruise's natural magnetism is enough here. Wit is provided thankfully through, albeit briefly, Billy Connolly as a tough old Irish veteran & chiefly Timothy Spall as our portly 'narrator' of sorts, who serves to help mythologise Algren & the legend itself. Zwick is most concerned with that, you see, the idea of legends and how men become them, exploring that concept alongside digging into the cultural rituals and practises of a changing Japan.
Algren's story is placed at a time when the old ways of Japan were shifting, under the pressures of global politics & business; the Emperor here is a naive young man, sitting on an empty throne, looking to Watanabe for validation as his advisor's push to quash a rebellion fighting to preserve the old ways, preserve Japanese interests as America knocks on the door. That's why Cruise's role here is so interesting, his character learning of the samurai code & helping those around him remember their history, and Zwick explores well the concept of national identity alongside personal ideas of myth, legend & destiny. It all boils together in a careful script, never overblown, which neatly develops the relationships involved & helps you fully believe Algren's transformation into the eponymous 'last samurai'. Along the way, Zwick doesn't forget theatrics - staging plenty of well staged & intense fight scenes which utilise the strong Japanese production design, before building to a quite epic war climax with army pitted against army, with personal stakes cutting through it, backed up indeed by another superlative score by Hans Zimmer. It becomes more than just a historical swords & armour film, reaching deeper on several levels.
What could have been a slow paced, potentially ponderous movie is avoided well by Edward Zwick, who with The Last Samurai delivers one of the stronger historical adventure epics of recent years. Beautifully shot in many places, with some excellent cinematography & production standards, not to mention an impressive script well acted in particular by Tom Cruise & Ken Watanabe, Zwick creates a recognisably Hollywood picture but for once a movie that doesn't dumb down, doesn't pander and ultimately serves as an often involving, often damn well made story. Especially one to check out if you love the way of the samurai.
In the role of Algren, Cruise begins a dejected man living out of a bottle, bereft of purpose & suffering post-Civil War nightmares of a man touted as a hero despite feeling the guilt of slaughtering Indians crushed under the might of a military machine; in that sense, The Last Samurai is very anti-war in its message, John Logan's story painting the Americans and specifically the Imperialist Japanese not in the greatest light. Cruise takes Algren on a traditional voyage of discovery, first pitted against the samurai code & eventually becoming consumed by it, consumed by the similarity of the way of the warrior between both cultures - and Ken Watanabe's dignified samurai 'rebel' Katsumoto learns from him, as well as the other way around, with Cruise remaining stoic & only getting flashes of a chance to display the usual Cruise charm, but that's OK - Algren isn't the kind of character to benefit from that, Cruise's natural magnetism is enough here. Wit is provided thankfully through, albeit briefly, Billy Connolly as a tough old Irish veteran & chiefly Timothy Spall as our portly 'narrator' of sorts, who serves to help mythologise Algren & the legend itself. Zwick is most concerned with that, you see, the idea of legends and how men become them, exploring that concept alongside digging into the cultural rituals and practises of a changing Japan.
Algren's story is placed at a time when the old ways of Japan were shifting, under the pressures of global politics & business; the Emperor here is a naive young man, sitting on an empty throne, looking to Watanabe for validation as his advisor's push to quash a rebellion fighting to preserve the old ways, preserve Japanese interests as America knocks on the door. That's why Cruise's role here is so interesting, his character learning of the samurai code & helping those around him remember their history, and Zwick explores well the concept of national identity alongside personal ideas of myth, legend & destiny. It all boils together in a careful script, never overblown, which neatly develops the relationships involved & helps you fully believe Algren's transformation into the eponymous 'last samurai'. Along the way, Zwick doesn't forget theatrics - staging plenty of well staged & intense fight scenes which utilise the strong Japanese production design, before building to a quite epic war climax with army pitted against army, with personal stakes cutting through it, backed up indeed by another superlative score by Hans Zimmer. It becomes more than just a historical swords & armour film, reaching deeper on several levels.
What could have been a slow paced, potentially ponderous movie is avoided well by Edward Zwick, who with The Last Samurai delivers one of the stronger historical adventure epics of recent years. Beautifully shot in many places, with some excellent cinematography & production standards, not to mention an impressive script well acted in particular by Tom Cruise & Ken Watanabe, Zwick creates a recognisably Hollywood picture but for once a movie that doesn't dumb down, doesn't pander and ultimately serves as an often involving, often damn well made story. Especially one to check out if you love the way of the samurai.