Recycling Stories For the Silver Screen

Good day, good day, my good and friendly readers! I apologize for having been gone for the better part of a month. My wife and I were traveling for vacation, going from San Antonio to Indiana to Florida and finally back again. It was very enjoyable, despite the sunburns. Speaking of which, here’s some good bit of advice: if you ever use the spray-on sunscreen, you still have to rub it in. My wife and I learned that the hard way. But even so, it was a very, very enjoyable time and I’m sad to see it over.

Now coming up soon, in approximately two weeks, is the debut of my brand-new, not-even-yet-written steampunk series, The Rift! The official premier date for it is July 11th. While I’m currently constructing an elaborate world and filling it with unique characters and mechanical/analog technology, I’m also brainstorming slight variants to the name. I’m thinking something to the effect of The Disparate Rift, or The Fantastic Rift, or something to give it a more sensationalistic title, The _______ Rift. If you have any ideas, feel free to shoot them at me, I’m open to suggestions. What adjective would help describe a story about the voyage of a steam-powered flying ship in a Victorian culture, which climaxes in the appearance of a horrific antagonist of Lovecraftian persuasion? Perhaps my brain needs more steam in order to think up a more advanced title.

Anyway, today I would like to share something I’ve noticed on the silver screen (that’s television, if you don’t know). Oftentimes, when a powerfully unique story hits the big screen, it only takes a year or two for the basic formula of that story to be incorporated into smaller television shows, with each show doing their own take on it. Other times, we see a trope start showing up across a variety of television shows. With these in mind, let’s explore four of these stories and see how they’ve been utilized in different ways on the small screen. I’ll begin with the least utilized and culminate in that which we see most often.

The Hazardous Challenges

Inspired by the 2004 film, Saw, this theme places the protagonist in some sort of temporary prison. He has no idea how he got there, but as his mysterious and almost never-seen captor begins presenting him with life-or-death challenges, he begins to understand that he’s being punished for past deeds. I enjoyed the first two Saw films (but none after that, as I feel that they lost their psychological component in favor of gratuitous amounts of gore), and so I was surprised when I saw an episode in the fifth season of Smallville entitled “Mercy.” In this episode, Lionel Luthor is held captive by a former employee whom he wronged, and he’s forced through various tasks which threaten his life but also force him to revisit his past decisions. Smallville, in this episode, essentially transferred the Saw formula in order to see what they could do with it, even going as far as having puzzles and clues in the challenges. But, as we’ll soon see, Smallville was notorious for stealing the formulas of films in order to flesh out some of their “filler episodes.” To their credit, though, they often used these episodes to advance the development of individual characters. In this case, it was Lionel.

What Happened Last Night?

Fans of the 2009 film, The Hangover, will recognize this next formula. What happens when a group of friends (usually between 3 and 5) wake up the morning after a grand party with no memories of the previous night? They retrace their steps, discover that they were drugged and find copious amounts of evidence and eyewitness testimony all pointing to a long night of drug-induced shenanigans. As one can imagine, this theme always veers on the side of comedy, whereas the previous theme stuck firmly to the horror genre. In Smallville‘s final season, we find this formula in the episode “Fortune,” chronicling the hijinks of Lois and Clark – accompanied by their friends – the night before their wedding. But lo and behold, just today I started rewatching an episode from the sixth season of the detective comedy-drama, Psych, in which the same formula was used. “Last Night Gus” covers four characters as they try to solve a murder to which their own prior-night’s hijinks were inextricably tied.

The Dreamscape

By far the most psychedelic of themes we’ve mentioned so far, this one may have its origin in the 2000 fantasy-detective film, The Cell. In this, Jennifer Lopez and Vince Vaughan use advanced technology to enter the comatose mind of a serial killer in order to locate his last victim before she dies. But during their ventures into the madman’s psyche, they explore the different facets of his personality and ultimately learn exactly what makes that killer what he is. This formula was used in yet another episode of Smallville, the 7th season episode, “Fracture.” After Lex Luthor is shot in the head, Clark elects to use experimental LuthorCorp technology to enter the comatose man’s mind and rescue him. Once there, Clark discovers a young boy (representing the good in Lex) dominated by a violent older man (representing Lex’s darker side). Sadly, this is an exact parallel to what Jennifer Lopez discovers in the mind of her serial killer: a young boy dominated by a violent grown man, a shriveled conscience overwhelmed by powerful evil. However, Smallville was not alone in exploring this theme: it also appeared in the sixth season of the animated comedy, American Dad, in the episode “Brains, Brains and Automobiles.” In this, Stan uses CIA technology to explore the bizarre mind of his comatose friend, a sociopathic alien named Roger. Again, we see a shriveled conscience, only in Roger’s case, it’s not dominated by violence but by wholesale insanity. Seriously, I could make very little sense of Roger’s mind. At least Lex and Jennifer’s serial killer were straightforward in their pathology.

The Musical

What TV show these days would be the same without a strong musical episode? We’ve seen it as far back as the 90s with an episode of The Drew Carey Show, and then later in the sixth season episode “My Musical,” of Scrubs. Then it appeared in the sixth season episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, “Once More, with Feeling” (which was amazing, by the way). And then was the somewhat forgettable episode of Psych‘s seventh season, “Psych: The Musical.” Some shows choose to give reasons for the sudden musical outbursts. For instance, in Scrubs, it was because a patient had a specific kind of tumor which gave her the impression that everyone was singing around her, and in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it was because someone had accidentally summoned a musically-inclined demon whose very presence caused all those around him to burst into song (this is the only case in which being in the presence of a demon has actually seemed enticing to me). But Psych and The Drew Carey Show (the latter of which was already known for its highly experimental episodes) give no reason for the singing, with the characters seeming not to even notice the the musical numbers. Musical episodes, it seems, are becoming quite popular (and yet, they oddly made no appearance in Smallville). So come on, The Big Bang Theory. You owe us a musical!

These are some of the more fun themes and formulas which television shows have adapted from the big screens, except for the last one, which seemed to be a new development of its own. There are, of course, other themes, like the flashback episodes that almost always come in a show’s final season, and which I loathe. If you can think of any other themes or formulas that often show up, leave it in the comments!

Until next time, friends…

Stay tuned for my next blog post, in which I explore the relationship between the Church and mental illness! It should be touchy, so I’ll ask you to please be brave.

The Fourth Wall

Good day! Having been recently inspired by a story I wrote – more a monologue, given by a man who realizes that he’s a fictional character in a short story – I have decided to stay on this track for just a little bit. And what track is this? Well, the Fourth Wall, of course! Today, I would like to share with you some of my favorite times in film, television and comics in which the Fourth Wall has been broken.

But before we explore this, I should first explain to those who may not know exactly what the Fourth Wall is. Imagine you’re watching a television show, and the current scene takes place in the main character’s living room. You, the audience, have a view of three walls of the living room: the one behind the characters (and opposite you) and the walls to either side of them (right and left). But the wall between the characters and the audience is invisible, and that’s simply because if it was there, we wouldn’t be able to watch anything. The Fourth Wall is the invisible barrier between the fiction of the show or movie and the reality of the audience watching it. Similarly, when you read a work of fiction, the Fourth Wall is the metaphorical barrier between the narration and the reader.

So what does it mean to “break the Fourth Wall?” This is the rare circumstance in which the character seems to recognize that their world is fictional, and so they turn and appear to peer through the Fourth Wall, usually in the form of addressing the audience directly. This happened on a very frequent basis in Saved by the Bell, when the protagonist, Zach Morris, would make all other characters freeze, then turn to the audience and explain some fact or thought with them. Similar shows picked up this theme, like Titus and The War at Home, both of which would cut away mid-scene and portray the main character in a large, white room (representing the inside of his own mind) in which he would share his thoughts with the audience.

But I want to go deeper than this. Rather than explore shows in which the characters simply explain things to the audience, I’d like to examine five movies or television shows in which the characters seemed to press right up against the Fourth Wall, not only sharing their opinions but even coming close to the recognition that they are, in fact, fictional. WARNING: there are spoilers to follow, so be forewarned. SPOILER ALERT

Number One: Stay

Stay is a 2005 film in which a psychiatrist (portrayed by Ewan McGregor) is approached by college student Henry Letham (played by Ryan Gosling), who informs him of his intent to commit suicide in three days. Naturally, the psychiatrist is alarmed, and so the film follows his attempt to learn the truth about Henry. Throughout the film, his world starts to unravel as he learns conflicting facts, endures temporal loops and ultimately comes to the realization that his entire world – and by extension, his own existence – is merely a figment of Henry’s imagination. The entire universe in which the psychiatrist lives and acts was invented by Henry in the few moments during which he was dying in a car crash and slipping in and out of consciousness. Thus, the psychiatrist realizes that he is, in fact, not real, that nothing in his life was ever real except for Henry. And when Henry, in the real world, finally succumbs to his wounds, the psychiatrist and his own existence simply cease to be. As a side note, this is, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful films ever made, and watching it the second time through (without the confusion over what’s happening) reveals a whole world of new information that was missed the first time through.

Number Two: Supernatural

One of my favorite episodes of the fantasy television series, Supernatural, occurred in the sixth season episode, “The French Mistake.” In this episode, the two main characters, Sam and Dean (portrayed by Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles, respectively), are given a mysterious artifact by the angel, Balthazar, who then sends them through a magical vortex. On the other side of the vortex, they find themselves in a magic-less world in which they are Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles, the stars of the hit television show, Supernatural. Not knowing how to respond to this new information but not wanting to arouse suspicion, Sam and Dead pretend to be their real life counterparts, during which they make fun of the actors’ past and present lives, cringe at the reality that one of them married the actress who played a primary villain in the show and even try and act out an episode. Thus, in this episode, Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles play Sam and Dead pretending to be Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles acting like Sam and Dean. To simplify this: the actors play the characters, playing the actors, playing the characters (badly). Fourth Wall just destroyed, if you can even wrap your mind around this conundrum.

Number Three: Yes, Dear

I used to watch Yes, Dear in college, and I fairly enjoyed it, but there was one episode in particular which stuck out to me. The season three episode, “Trophy Husband,” has, as one of its two plotlines, the character, Greg, pick out a new couch for the living room. Not satisfied simply picking the couch, he chooses to rearrange the furniture as well, and ends up with the couch facing away from the audience. One by one, the other characters sit down on the couch with their backs to the audience, and though none of them can explain why, they all state that it simply “doesn’t feel right.” There’s another episode where another character, Jimmy, briefly reflects on the life of his younger son, Logan. In the flashback, there are clips shown from different times in the show, thus showing multiple actors who played Logan. When the flashbacks end, Jimmy turns to his wife and says “I’m confused,” to which she responds, “we all are.”

Number Four: The Office

Throughout The Office, scenes would cut away to the characters in what I suspect to be the conference room, answering questions posed by the documentary crew filming them. While this suggests a touch of the Fourth Wall, this takes on a new level in the show’s final season, in which the documentary was beginning to air. The characters were excited at the prospect of seeing their lives in a documentary, and in the last episode, they even have a Question and Answer panel with audience members who are fans of the “documentary.” This show brings to mind the seventh in the Nightmare on Elm Street films, Wes Craven’s New Nightmare. Meant to be a much darker take on the Freddy Krueger slasher, who had become more comical in later appearances, this film takes place in the “real world,” in which the actors from the original film portray themselves, with Freddy Krueger attempting to “break out into the real world.” As the characters from The Office supposedly played themselves during the Q&A panel (though not actually), so, too, did the actors from the original Nightmare on Elm Street portray themselves (even going as far as to share the same names).

Number Five: Deadpool

One of the most well-known facts about the star of this upcoming superhero film is that the character is aware that he is a comic book character. In the comics, he would occasionally meet other characters and reference their last meeting by what issue it was in. In other issues, he would address his own voice bubble, or muse more existentially. In the end of X-Men Origins: Wolverine, one of the bonus, after-the-credits scenes is of Deadpool shushing the audience. And while I have not yet seen the new film (it has yet to be released), part of the trailer consists of Ryan Reynolds (who plays Deadpool) asking scientists not to make his uniform green or animated, a clear reference to the green, animated uniform he wore in his portrayal of Hal Jordan in the 2011 box office bomb, The Green Lantern. Will he break the Fourth Wall more in this new film? We’ll just have to wait and see.

So those are my top five (or six, if you count Wes Craven’s New Nightmare) favorite portrayals of characters breaking the Fourth Wall in films and movies. It can be a fun way of toying with the audience, but it must be used sparingly, I think, so as not to lose its charm. Thank-you for taking the time to explore this mysterious barrier with me.

Until next time, friends…

Stay tuned for my next, related blog post, in which I’ll explore fictional works wherein characters realize that their original universe isn’t as real as they thought it was!

The Unique Weirdness in You

I like to think that we’re all weird. All of us. I heard that Mark Twain once said (though I haven’t verified this) that “everyone is stupid, just in different ways.” Similarly, I like to think that “everyone is weird, just in different ways.” Everyone has the odd quirk, interest, skill or expertise that makes them stand out as weird. But you know what weirdness really is? It’s uniqueness. A weird person is a unique person, and I don’t think God designed any of us to be exactly alike. After all, if God created each of us to be loved, as I believe he did, then what’s there to love about someone who’s exactly like the next person in line?

In high school, this was exemplified among my circle of friends. We came up with the idea that we were all nerds, just different types of nerds. We had a Car Nerd, an Orchestra Nerd, a Band Geek, even one friend who was the self-proclaimed “King of the Nerds.” I, myself, became known as the Horror Movie Nerd (if you can’t figure out why, try reading the name until it comes to you). Not only did I love watching horror movies (the well-made ones, I must stipulate, not the exploitative torture-porn that nearly ruined the genre), but I even went so far as to make a few. I started off small, with an adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven,” before writing my own 45-minute film called “All Alone.” That movie featured the classic plot of a killer who escaped from an insane asylum and ran amok at a high school party. Then, I ended my brief film-making career (or perhaps put it on extended hiatus) with a feature length film entitled “Hall of Shadows.” This one features a group of college students who wake up one morning to find their university completely abandoned, and ultimately they realize that they are trapped in a purgatorial limbo between life and death, and one of them is not as they seem. This ultra-low-budget film can be found online in 12 segments (owing to the 10-minute video policy which YouTube enforced back then). But even though I no longer make horror movies, I still enjoy them.

What I’m trying to explain here is that each of us has something unique, something that makes us different from all the rest. While we’re in school, and sometimes even into our adulthood, we develop this desire to fit in, to be just like everyone else, and in our attempts to do so, we downplay our unique characteristics. But in doing so, we’re inevitably burying a part of ourselves that God created with intense care. We’re denying part of our very souls, and little good can come of this. I think too many people are facing identity issues, anxiety issues or depression simply because a repressed part of themselves wants to be accepted. (Special note: I’m not saying all identity issues, anxiety disorders or depression are caused by this, but a great deal of these, I suspect, are). So what are we to do?

Accept these parts of ourselves. But, and this is of the utmost importance, we can’t just demand that other people accept these unbridled parts of ourselves. We can’t just assimilate the parts of ourselves that we’ve rejected and think that everything’s going to be hunky-dory.

First, we must train and hone this part of ourselves, utilizing it for a greater purpose. If I just wrote horror stories with no purpose, I’d be wasting my talent at best, and poisoning people’s minds at worst; instead, I must use these stories to help people with their issues, or to share the gospel, or to bring new understanding to judgmental audiences. We need to own and control these parts of ourselves and channel them toward something greater.

Secondly, we need to work hard so as not to collapse in the face of rejection. If Martin Luther King, Junior had buckled in the face of rejection and threats, the civil rights of Americans would have taken much longer to improve. If Joseph Merrick had given up when hated by mobs, he wouldn’t have become the inspirational Elephant Man.

So accept the parts of yourself that are unique, but not without taking control of them in the process. Use them to grow and make the world a better place. Don’t give in or give up in the face of rejection and hatred, for where there is hate, your uniqueness – if properly utilized – will sow the seeds of peace. And then, not only will you be a healthier person, but the world will become a slightly healthier world.

Until next time, friends…

A History of Zombiism, Part Three

Last week, I described how “zombie” was translated from a Voodoo term – referring to people who’ve been drugged and enslaved by someone called a bokor – into cannibalistic corpses that we’ve seen filling our movies and television shows. Richard Matheson wrote what could be considered the transitional book, but while his monsters were more vampiric, his post-apocalyptic scenario inspired George A. Romero, the Godfather of the Zombie Genre, to create his 1968 film, Night of the Living Dead. When fans altered the names of his monsters from “ghouls” to “zombies,” history was set and the zombies have become the standard totem in post-apocalyptic works ever since.

Now while that’s all good and fun, we can’t simply set aside the zombie flick as mere entertainment. On the contrary, the zombie genre has had a much deeper influence, I maintain, than we even realize.  After all, Romero’s first zombie film was eventually inducted into the Library of Congress’s national film registry, an honor that is reserved only for films deemed “culturally or historically significant.” So let us, therefore, begin with the film that started it all.

One thing to notice about Night of the Living Dead is its cast: a group of white people led by one black man, portrayed by actor Duane Jones. While Romero himself denied that race was a factor in the casting, the idea of having a black character leading a cast of whites resonated strongly in a decade of racial turmoil. After all, the movie was released only six months after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Junior. But if we take race a little deeper, we’ll see that relations are critiqued in the film, highlighted by the lead actor’s death at the hand of “rednecks.” I almost wonder if the writers for The Walking Dead had this in mind when they had Merle (a redneck) attack T-Dog (a black man), with the latter taking the more reasonable role.

Indeed, we can see that many zombie films portray social turmoil with a sort of “inner plot” while the zombie-infested post-apocalypse forms a kind of “outer plot.” By this, I mean that most zombie films tend to portray characters barricading themselves in some safe place, then working out their interpersonal issues on the inside of the walls, outside of which the real dangers prowl. Inside that safe place, the inner plot takes the form of personality and culture clashes deeply engrained with racial and gender discussions. Ultimately, the group will find a way to overcome their issues and escape or succumb to them and become overwhelmed by the outer plot of the zombies beyond the walls.

So the inner plot of a zombie film centers on interpersonal relations and how people can get past their prejudices and work together. Outside of this is the outer plot, which is usually more of a social critique, fostering differing views toward the government: either the government is responsible and, hence, not to be trusted; it is ineffective and, hence, not to be trusted; or it ultimately leads the triumph over the zombie horde and is to be trusted with our allegiance. In the overwhelming majority of zombie films, the first two options are taken, and even in the rare occurrences when the third option is taken, the government is often portrayed as an authoritarian dictatorship (as in 28 Days Later), sometimes even breeding a dystopia (like Woodbury in The Walking Dead). So it seems that, ultimately, the zombie films critique the government itself, encouraging our leaders not to disappear into an inhuman or ineffective system, or else the apocalypse will come and leave their people defenseless.

On a last note, there’s one thing I seem to notice about zombie films: an ever-feared thing called the “swarm.” The swarm, or horde, is an overwhelming herd of zombies that the protagonists cannot defeat. They are rare in films, and they usually signal the end with their approach. But as I watch them in zombie films, I find myself wondering if that very swarm is us. Do we lose ourselves in the crowd, with the ultimate result of destroying our fellow man? Do we find righteousness in anonymity? Personally, I think we should each examine ourselves to see what role we would play in such a film. I think it might be best if we could reconcile the inner plot and the outer plot and save as many souls as possible.

Until next time, friends…

Stay tuned for my next blog post, in which I’ll explore why we, as Christians, need no longer obey the strict commands of Leviticus!

Exodus: Gods and Kings

Good afternoon! I know I promised you the second part in our study on zombies, but I’m going to wait a few weeks before diving back into that (though you have my promise that parts two and three are coming). For today, however, I’d like to share my take on a movie that my wife and I had the pleasure of seeing this weekend: Exodus: Gods and Kings.

The movie is a new take on the Exodus account, featuring one of the most revered of the Old Testament prophets: Moses. There are a great many things I can say about it, from its fascinating take on the plagues (the plague of blood was almost one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever seen) to its portrayal of the Crossing of the Red Sea/Sea of Reeds (which actually comes closer to the scriptural account than we’re used to seeing in Exodus films; in that respect, I encourage you to read Exodus 14:21). However, it did struggle with pacing issues, going in cycles between agonizingly slow and extremely flurried, with a build-up that took nearly 45 minutes. But most important, I think, are two topics, perhaps the most important two: the portrayals of Moses and God. Please allow me to delve into each of these in detail.

Moses

One of the first things to notice about Christian Bale’s take on Moses (Batman references aside) is that he is not eighty in the movie, as he was during the actual Exodus events. However, this is a point that is not unique to Ridley Scott’s take (earlier Exodus films also feature a younger Moses) and I think the reason is simply that an octogenarian protagonist is simply difficult for audiences to identify with. However, what I think is important and unique to this Moses is his humanity. Bale’s Moses is not the steady, faultless, rock star prophet that we’ve been raised to expect. Instead, we get a Moses who wrestles with his faith. He struggles with trusting himself more than he does God. This is, I think, the purpose behind the writers having Moses first instigate guerrilla warfare against Egypt, an event not recorded in the Bible. It is only after Moses realizes that his secret plan is only making things worse for his people that God steps in and instigates the plagues, telling Moses to “step aside and watch.” Then, later on, Moses leads his people to what he thinks is an easy access point for crossing the Red Sea, and when they realize that he’s misled the people and taken them to an impassible point, he breaks down and loses his faith in himself.

But it is in that moment of broken pride that Moses realizes he simply can’t do it on his own. I admire Bale’s portrayal of a Moses who reaches his lowest point, who falls into a deep depression when he discovers how powerless he truly is, because in that moment, God is able to show how powerful he really is, and how much he cares for us. So in this regard, Moses is a character we can all relate to, a person who ultimately realizes that whatever our calling may be, we cannot do it on our own; we need God to lead us.

I’ll end my discussion of Moses with two last suggestions. First, I also admire Moses’ struggle with his family. When God calls him, he doesn’t march away with resolute faith, and his wife and son don’t watch him go feeling proud of him. As we struggle for a balance between faith and family, between our calling and our role in the household, so, too, did Moses and his family struggle with God’s command. And lastly, it’s worth noting that Moses has a sword rather than a staff in the movie. While the Biblical account does, indeed, focus more on Aaron’s staff than Moses’, I think this may simply be a result of Christian Bale, an action star, demanding a weapon rather than a shepherd’s implement. If this theory is true, than I at least recognize the cleverness of the writers in making that sword represent the strained relationship between Moses and Ramses.

God

You can’t discuss this movie without examining the somewhat off-putting portrayal of God. While God does appear in a burning bush, this is confounded by the fact that he speaks to Moses through the form of a young child. Personally, my favorite part of the movie is Moses’ first encounter, in which the child, while issuing Moses his commands, constructs a pyramid from stones and then topples it over, signifying what he’ll do to Egypt itself. Then, repeatedly throughout the movie, Moses speaks to this child that no one else can see. But why a child?

One clue occurs during a scene in which Moses angrily yells to the child “I am tired of speaking to a messenger!” This suggests that the child was not actually God, but an angel speaking on God’s behalf. This would reconcile Exodus 3:2, in which it is an Angel of the Lord who speaks with Moses, though the angel’s words and God’s own are often confused throughout the rest of the passage (Exodus 3 – 4:17). However, simply because Moses called him a messenger doesn’t prove the case; after all, couldn’t Moses be mistaken? So I examined both the Wikipedia and IMDB pages and saw that the cast list does, indeed, refer to the character as Malak, the generic Hebrew word for “angel” or “messenger.” If this angel is speaking on God’s behalf, then it could be any angel, or it could be the official Angel of the Presence, or the Pre-Incarnate Christ (a view to which I do not ascribe) or even the angelic sometimes-scribe, Metatron. The official website, unfortunately, does not list the character in its limited cast list, which leaves it ultimately a mystery.

But that’s what I find most intriguing about Ridley Scott’s take on God. God is not the calm, somber, utterly authoritative and meditative God that we see in other portrayals. Instead, we see a God who shows violent emotions, who displays both intense love for his chosen people and violent wrath on those who oppress them. He shows admiration at Moses’ stubbornness and also disappointment in Israel’s construction of the Golden Calf. In that response, we see a far more humanized God than we’re used to seeing in film and television. But on the other side is also a more dangerous and terrifying God, a God whose wrath is not held back or rounded off to keep the audience feeling comfortable. His ways seem both far too human and utterly alien, which leaves him as more of a mystery than we, Christians, are willing to admit.

So in finishing, I want to say that I believe, despite many artistic and literary licenses with the movie, that it works hard to develop a far more Biblical Moses and God, rather than their modern doctrinal counterparts. To that end, I think it was very much worth seeing. Just prepare yourselves for the plagues because that first one is…just so freaking scary.

Until next time, friends…

Stay tuned for my next blog post, in which I’ll share a poem about the reason for the season.

A Christian Defense of the Horror Genre

Good day! With Halloween this coming Friday, I thought it might be good to recycle an old post of mind, A Defense of the Horror Genre, initially published on November 4th, 2013. It may be an oldie, but it’s a goodie, so with moderate changes, I hope you enjoy it.

There’s a moderate controversy in the Christian community over whether or not to celebrate Halloween, with many citing its pagan origins and “dark” preoccupation as things to be avoided. Personally, I see Halloween as a celebration of the horror genre, a particularly popular area of fiction, both in film and literature. But should Christians avoid the genre for its dark focus? Can nothing good be gleaned from it?

While it is certainly dangerous to dabble out of the light and stumble in the darkness, there are actually some benefits that can be garnered from horror. Primarily, works of horror often fall into a paradigm of good versus evil. The main character is often toted as innocent, or, at least, capable of good, whereas the villain is typically too far down the road to hell to be saved. As such, the villain must be destroyed. On the surface level, the triumph over a monster with a violent persuasion sets a positive example of the Christian fighting against evil on behalf of all that is good. He is removing danger and destruction in order to bring forth peace and light. But on a deeper level, it sets a dangerous dualism, an us-versus-them scenario in which the enemy is unlovable and irredeemable. As Christians, I would press forward the possibility of, rather than destroying the enemy, trying to save him from himself. He may be violent and dangerous, with bitterness and rage in his heart, but if you can win that heart back into the light, then you have truly vanquished the monster and saved a soul in the process.

Now this leads me to my second point: sometimes – though much less often – a particular piece of horror will focus on what appears to be a monster, but turns out not to be so. Frankenstein’s Monster, for instance, was abandoned and persecuted, and as a result he fell into destructive tendencies. The less frightening Monsters, Inc. pushes this point in reverse, where humans are greatly feared, but later learned to be safe. This type of writing, the understanding of apparently evil to be actually good is a valuable lesson for Christians to learn. In an episode of the horror series, Supernatural, the main characters stumble upon a “nest” of vampires which they immediately seek to exterminate. However, by the end of the episode, they learn that the vampires have resorted to drinking animal blood out of a refusal to harm human beings, and the heroes of the show allow them to go free, realizing that these vampires who were immediately regarded as evil were actually good at heart.

And so we can take some of these lessons as a guide for how we should live, not judging by appearance but by truth. There are also what I call “negative models” in horror as well. I wrote a story awhile back about a girl who discovered a demon-possessed book and fell into witchcraft, not all at once but step by imperceptible step. Another, more recent story, chronicles a dangerous man as he searches the world for monsters, only realizing in the end that the greatest monster is the one inside himself. These stories tell the reader distinctly what not to do; they are negative models for how to live our lives, their ultimate end serving to frighten us away from the temptations of the darkness.

Lastly, and more secularly, the horror genre offers an almost unparalleled level of psychological insight into the characters. The first two films of the horror franchise, Saw, focus very much on the psychological development of characters placed in extreme circumstances. When a person is backed into a corner and fear creeps into their mind, you can be surprised what else waits inside their noggin, what reactions and mental notions manifest and allow the audience to dive ever-so-much-more deeply into their unconscious mental faculties. And sometimes, the audience is left with a reflective opportunity to look deeper into their own minds as well.

These all sound well and nice, you say, but are there pitfalls to avoid in the horror genre? Most assuredly, be not confused. Gore has, in recent decades, become an unmistakable staple of the genre, to my bitter dismay. Some films and books feel that a piece of horror is not complete unless it can double as a lesson in anatomy. I find this to be bad writing, a pitiful attempt to replace genuine thought and circumstantial development with a surface-level “gross factor.” Sex, in addition, muddies the waters of good and bad fiction. Sex, in my mind, merely plays on the libido of the audience as a way to entice them, rather than letting the actual story speak for itself. Slasher movies* often capitalize on these two factors.

So can the horror genre be trusted to teach us valuable lessons? Most assuredly, as long as good discernment is used. As with any genre, horror is flooded with cheap works using bad tools and teaching irresponsible lessons. But don’t let these things deter you from the good works, for they are capable of teaching us a great deal, both about ourselves and about what it truly means to “walk in the light.

Until next time, friends…

Stay tuned for my next blog post, in which I discuss the concept of outsiders allying together!

* A “Slasher Movie” is typically a film with a popular villain bent on nothing more than a killing spree, with such villains as Freddy Krueger, Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, etc. Personally, I am a fan of the Freddy Krueger franchise for its creativity in plot and story, and the fact that sex and gore are utilized to a much lesser extent than in other Slasher franchises.

How Much of “Left Behind” Should Be Left Behind?

Hello and good day! This weekend, I had the pleasure of taking my wife to see the new Nicolas Cage film, Left Behind. As almost anyone familiar with the critically-acclaimed book series can tell you, the film is based on an event called the “Rapture,” in which every Christian on Earth simultaneously vanishes, snatched away to Heaven. Now disregarding the theology of the rapture (which we’ll cover next week), I want to spend the time right now to assess the movie in its own right.

As I’ve already said, this film revolves around the Rapture. In one moment, everyone who believes in Christ vanishes, along with seemingly every child. Disaster follows, chaos ensues and everyone struggles to know just what happened. I have to admit, I was not a fan of the beginning of the movie. It would have been a bit more enjoyable if the Rapture happened sooner than 45 minutes in. For those seemingly interminable 45 minutes, I found myself growing bored to the point of praying that the Rapture would just happen already! It was like watching the end of Lord of the Rings, during which I admittedly fell asleep. So boring. So…boring.

But then, the Rapture happened. In a flash, children and Christians all vanished, leaving all others scrambling for answers. This is, indeed, where I became interested in the film. There were two parallel stories at this point: one involving Ray Steele and Buck Williams as they tried to land a plane running out of fuel in a world where airports were closed and runways were blocked; and one involving Ray’s daughter, Chloe, as she struggled down on land being, for the most part, very boring. I had little interest in Chloe’s story, and I had little sympathy for her character. For instance, during the interminable beginning, she had a conversation with her born-again Christian mother, during which she called her mother crazy for her beliefs. When her mother calmly mentioned praying, Chloe became hostile and accused her mother of shoving Christianity down her throat. Quite an aggressively irrational character. But most of her story involved her simply wandering around watching everything.

But the story on the plane was quite a different matter. This part of the story I thoroughly enjoyed. Nicolas Cage played the part of Keanu Reeves in Speed, only he was far more rational and responsible. He tried numerous tactics to pacify his panicking passengers and keep his plane flying with the help of Buck Williams, a man who behaved heroically in his own right. The behavior of the passengers reminded me of Stephen King’s The Langoliers, only without the time travel and, you know, the Langoliers themselves. During their ordeal, many passengers struggled with their personal demons, or dealt with panic over the loss of children. One woman suspected a conspiracy, and a Muslim man fought against racial stereotyping, all while Captain Steele worked to land a damaged plane in a world gone mad. It was a fun airplane thriller with drama and problem-solving that kept me wanting more.

But, alas, the plane eventually had to land, thanks to the work of Chloe down on the ground. And what’s the first thing she does after seeing her dad alive who she thought was dead? She ran up and hugged Buck, the young guy who’d flirted with her in the airport for only an hour. Her dad was a close second to the guy she’d just met earlier in that day. I’m not a fan of Chloe. If future films are made, I hope her character improves as her dad’s did. For Ray did, in fact, grow throughout the film. He narrowly averted an affair and came to realize that his wife was not as crazy as he thought, and he worked realistically and intelligently through difficult situations.

So there were parts of the movie I really didn’t like, and parts of it that I really did like. Ray and Buck were good characters; Chloe, not so much. But I personally hope for more films, even if for no reason than to see how the Antichrist character will be portrayed, because I appreciate a good villain. And perhaps, if the series continues, they’ll answer some tough questions that I have, like:

1. If all of the children are taken due to their presumed innocence or inability to understand Christ, then why was an old woman with dementia or Alzheimer’s left behind while her husband was taken? She definitely demonstrated that she lacked the mental capacity to understand much, so wouldn’t that render her innocent enough to be saved? Or was she a non-believer beforehand?

2. If all the children are taken, how is there a bonus book series called Left Behind: The Kids?

3. Are all Christians saved in the film? Or is it only Christians bearing a certain theological/doctrinal system? To this extent, it must be said that Christianity is not one, single monolithic doctrine but an entire spectrum of belief circling around Jesus. So how lenient was God in taking souls in this film?

I look forward to seeing how this movie plays out in the future.

Until next time, friends…

Stay tuned for my next blog post, in which I’ll dig into Rapture belief and see what the Bible says about it!

Christ Cures the Werewolves!

Warning: the following analysis contains spoilers for the werewolf film, Skinwalkers.

The first time I saw the movie, Skinwalkers, it was approximately six-and-a-half years ago, just before my Freshman year of college. I remember seeing it in theaters and thinking to myself, “there was a loooot of symbolism there. I really did not expect to see the message of Christ in a werewolf film.” Last night, I again chose to watch the movie and, sure enough, I picked up on even more symbolism than the first time. But before I can adequately explain the symbolism, let me explain the crucial points of the movie for you.

The movie consists of two factions of “skinwalkers,” or werewolves: those who have not tasted human flesh and, as such, are good (despite the desire to hunt human flesh during the full moon), and those who have tasted human flesh and, as such, become corrupted, reveling in hunting humans in their werewolf forms. Into this mix is a young boy, about to turn thirteen years old and, as prophesied, he is a hybrid half-werewolf (werewolf father and human mother). According to the prophecy, his thirteenth birthday will mean an end to werewolves everywhere, though no one quite understands how. He spends his childhood protected from the bad werewolves (who want him dead so as to continue their ways) by the good ones (who wish to become humans).

The movie progresses like your average action movie, with gunfights, explosions and overturned vehicles. One good werewolf is captured and forced to feed, which turns her against the other good ones. And finally, in the end, the boy survives to see midnight on his thirteenth birthday, at which point his father (who turns out to be the leader of the bad werewolves) bites him while in werewolf form. It is then revealed – as his father becomes both human and good – that his son’s blood has become a cure for werewolfism, and for the evil that feeding on human flesh creates.

Early in the movie, there are hints at a messianic quality to the boy. When the bad werewolves catch a family of good ones and kill them, the bad leader refers to the good ones as “having faith” in the boy, even going so far as to call them martyrs. This becomes more blatant as the movie comes to its conclusion, at which point the father’s wrath is literally quelled by the shed blood of his son. But in a more overarching sense, I see werewolfism as the human tendency to sin, temptation, if you will. And when it is indulged in, when the wolves feed, their whole minds become infected and they revel in the evil of the werewolf, even to the point of trying to kill the one person who can bring them out of it: the son. Then finally, when the son turns thirty – excuse me, thirteen – he begins his crusade to cure the werewolves (sinners) by the power of his blood. The movie even ends with the boy narrating that “to some, I am salvation, and to others, destruction,” thus introducing a vaguely apocalyptic overtone, for in the Christian book of Revelation, Christ returns with a dual role: to save those who have been cleansed from sin by the power of his blood, and to destroy the evil who oppose the goodness of him and his father.

To me, I cannot watch this film without seeing the symbolism. While I don’t know if the Christian message was the original framework on which the story was drafted – or even if anyone who worked on it was a Christian – I enjoy it as a gospel message hidden within an admittedly fun-to-watch action/werewolf flick. It just goes to show you: you never know where you’re going to hear Christ speaking to you, so always keep your mind open!

Until next time, friends…

Stay tuned for my next blog post, in which I discuss a book in the Bible which references a non-Biblical book as if it’s scripture! Crazy, huh?