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                                                       Great Expectations '98 version   


Finn: I'm not going to tell the story the way it happened. I'm going to tell it the way I remember it.

This '98 version of the novel by Charles Dicken is one of dozens of productions that have been made of this tale. When it comes to storytelling, it is astounding how much of a heavyweight Dickens really is.

The story is, well, about expectation, and the way it affects the course of events and the way the course of events affect it. In the original and this movie, chief among the chronicles of desire is naturally that of the main character, (Pip) Finn. He sees potential love and fulfillment via a benefactor, suprisingly turning out to be someone different than he thought and later, finding out he had still not recognized his true benefactor till then. All the while, events and emotion force him to assert and build his own way, though he stumbles, tries to quit, can't hide from what drives him.

Finn: Seven years passed, I stopped going to Paradiso Perduto, I stopped painting. I put aside the fantasy and the wealthy, and the heavenly girl who did not want me. None of it would happen to me again. I'd seen through it. I elected to grow up.

The famously tragic, though rendered with depth, character of Ms Havisham—in this telling, Ms Dinsmoor—carries a poignant but rather blunt message. If the human spirit cannot find some way to recover, to heal from heartbreak and crushed expectation—that sadness and anger can continue to grow and destroy, into the future and other lives.

Ms Dinsmoor: She'll only break your heart, it's a fact. And even though I warn you, even though I guarantee you that the girl will only hurt you terribly, you'll still pursue her. Ain't love grand?

Ironically, it is negative expectations being fulfilled.

Estella: We are who we are. People don't change.

In general, we are creatures of habit. And yet, profound tranformations of personality and belief do occur. Dickens himself wrote what might be the premier story of personal metamorphosis of our times with his novella, A Christmas Carol. Ebenezer Scrooge faces the spirits of his own condition and that of the world and turns into, one might put it, what he could have and should have been.

Estella: Let's say there was a little girl, and from the time she could understand, she was taught to fear... let's say she was taught to fear daylight. She was taught that it was her enemy, that it would hurt her. And then one sunny day, you ask her to go outside and play and she won't. You can't be angry at her, can you?

Truly recognizing and facing the ingrained notions that seem to dictate what we do and how we do it can be, of course, a challenge and a journey. Part of that journey is getting at or getting closer to that essence of who or what we really are. The outer ego is an aspect of it but as some spiritualists accentuate, the outer ego does not contain it. The ego is not "in charge."

So that would mean that when we hear about changing our beliefs or changing what we are, essentially part of that process is reaching the real point of origin in ourselves. It obviously is not just the outer self saying, "I believe this now. I will manifest that now. I have become a certain something." Even though, the ego is the main part of ourselves, in some sense, that we have to work with. It must surely be a legitimate part and demonizing it may not really be the answer to anything.

Finn: What's it like not to feel anything?

There are many interesting pieces of advice and concepts regarding expectation.

"Expectancy will determine the outcome." "Replace expectancy with ambition." "Expect everything." "Expect nothing."

Joe: Nothing harder than being given your chance. At least, that's what I hear.

In the continuous flow of spirituality and philosophy, the idea of practicing the contradiction of being extremely intent and completely accepting at the same time—perhaps appeals to both common and extraordinary sense. Key into what you desire and what you perceive as the best goals and conditions—be focused, even single-minded—then let go.

Finn: The night all of my dreams came true, and like all happy endings, it was a tragedy, of my own device, for I succeeded. I had cut myself loose from Joe, from the past, from the Gulf, from poverty I had invented myself. I'd done it cruelly, but I had done it. I was free!

But recognizing what really are the best goals, the universe-given desires—and integral in them, the "right why"—is key.

Finn: I did it! I did it! I am a wild success! I sold 'em all, all my paintings. You don't have to be embarrassed by me anymore, I'm rich! Isn't that what you wanted, aren't we happy now? Don't you understand, that everything I do, I do it for you. Anything that might be special in me, is you.

It's interesting to note that Dickens rewrote the ending to Great Expectations, making a clear allusion that Pip and Estella stay together. He was perhaps answering his readers'—expectations.

Finn: I knew that little girl and I saw the light in her eyes, and no matter what you say or do, that's still what I see.

There are metaphysical posits that say desire, wish, expectation—are the cornerstone of all realities. Here's to expecting a better tomorrow for everyone.

　
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                                                                                  Dogma

Dogma is a 1999 release that drew somewhat mixed reviews but was generally liked and praised by many as interesting and provocative . It was no surprise that the Catholic institution—which is the center point of the film's exploration, questioning and creative character and theme synthesis— reacted strongly.
What has been left in the wake of this film and continues hotly to this day, and the film contributed to this although a myriad of forces are at work here—is the ongoing, deeply layered debate of the status and effect of organized religion.
What are perhaps two of the main pivotal points of this ongoing discussion:

1.The exclusionary element of (two of the world's largest) organized religions.

2. Beliefs—their nature and the inner workings of how they impact, if not actually generate, experience,—and specifically to this movie—the concept of ideas instead of beliefs as a more liberated thinking m.o.

Metatron: (voice of the one true God)  Say you're the Metatron, you're lucky to get a blank stare. Mention something from a Charlton Heston movie and suddenly everyone's a theology scholar!

It doesn't take being a scholar in theology to recognize certain points.
The extraordinary plot of the essence of origin, the prime creator, singularly manifesting into a human, and the ensuing drama—is sweepingly powerful, although not original to Christianity. The incredible increase in the flow of shared thoughts and ideas, built up through the burgeoning technology of the industrial age and exploding in the information age, has perhaps brought us to certain theological crossroads. As some modern philosophers are pointing out, our intuitive knowledge combined with revelations regarding historical material are indicating that the truest messages of mythologies may be those of our own divinity; the nature of being an "aspect" of Divinity and the function of such. A version of this conceptualization is what moved Joseph Smith Jr to form a new branch of Christianity.

Loki: What do they do? They dupe all these oysters into following them and then proceed to shuck and devour the helpless creatures en masse. Now I don't know what that says to you, but to me it says that following these faiths based on mythological figures ensures the destruction of one's inner being. Organized religion destroys who we are by inhibiting our actions, by inhibiting our decisions, out of fear of some intangible parent figure, who shakes a finger at us from thousands of years ago and says "Do it, do it and I'll f*ing spank you!"

Hand in hand with the authoritarian nature of some religious systems are other elements—no weightier one than an extremely embedded patriarchy.

Serendipity: The whole book's gender-biased. A woman's responsible for original sin. A woman cuts Samson's coif of power. A woman asks for the head of John the Baptist. Read that book again sometime. Women are painted as bigger antagonists than the Egyptians and Romans combined. It stinks.

Though there are many, including Christians, who would greatly qualify this fact, Christianity has actually shown a measure of the flexibility to soften, even to change—the Catholic element and their reaction to this film notwithstanding. However, the exclusionary precept stays concretely in place—essentially the crux of which is the Christian bible's passage of John 14:6 - "I am the way... No one goes to the Father except through me."

Where does this leave even inquisitive, open-minded Christians regarding the effort among people to truly come together? Some pursue bridge building with honest enthusiasm and tolerance but the theological "crossed fingers behind your back" is there, even in the most loving and kindhearted. It would seem it has to be.
　
Rufus: He still digs humanity, but it bothers Him to see the sh*t that gets carried out in His name: wars, bigotry, televangelism. But especially the factioning of all the religions. He said humanity took a good idea and, like always, built a belief structure on it.
Bethany: Having beliefs isn't good?
Rufus: I think it's better to have ideas. You can change an idea, changing a belief is trickier. Life should be malleable and progressive; working from idea to idea permits that. Beliefs anchor you to certain points and limit growth; new ideas can't generate. Life becomes stagnant.

An idea is a notion, an impression./ A belief—a conviction, a confidence. There are philosophies that outline all of conciousness as being a combination of soley two factors—impressions and beliefs. We have experiences or memories of experience, and tenents or conclusions from and, in turn, about those impressions. One of the most contemplated concepts in life is if, how and to what degree those convictions affect what we experience, which in turn are our impressions. Does what we believe create our reality?

There was an interview/discussion on a major cable show recently with a Catholic priest, a Rabbi and an Orthodox minister (which sounds like the opening to a possibly funny or possibly unfunny joke). A few striking things from the discussion--

The Catholic priest took a profoundly tempered stance on the fate of the soul of Bin Laden in relation to the concept of hell. When the Rabbi pressed the point that God couldn't have anything but eternal condemnation in store in this case, the priest expressed a gentle reminder that no one knows what God has in mind except God; who can speak for him? The response from the Rabbi was rather heated, with him stating that he, the Rabbi, can speak for Him. He studies his word and he can speak for Him. Now, this is not intended as criticism of the Rabbi, - after all, the very position itself is as "master of the law," but it serves to illustrate a mysterious point. We all have an inate desire to connect with truth, with genuine sovereignty and perhaps we do just that in a far greater way than we even realize, but whenever we say anything, referenced from anywhere, it is our word, our contained subjectivity—it can't be anything else. When anyone says or believes they are speaking in an exclusive way for a prime source, certain red flags spring up. Does this mean we can't, in some true sense of the word, connect with the Universe and even be a conduit for high forms of energy? It would seem people do it all the time. It has certain earmarks.

         God's one and only voice is silence     Herman Melville

Not from the movie but a profundity that resonates. There are many decent, earnest people wondering what to make of the things that seem to so sorely separate us; wanting to find truth and empower themselves in a positive way. Many, and perhaps the numbers will keep increasing, cannot reconcile themselves to systems that at their core, consider all outside that system as spiritually compromised or even doomed.
　
Serendipity: "You people don't celebrate your faith; you mourn it."
　
Where are we headed with the divisions between us?—divisions that are quickly morphing under the effect of a new age where the ability to communicate has reached a level unknown before.

PA Announcer: (at hospital)  I repeat: this is not a drill. This is the Apocalypse. Please exit the hospital in an orderly fashion.
　
How do we embrace whatever true faith means or doesn't mean to us while, hopefully, keeping the door open to each other? Speaking of systems of philosophy and belief—I would like to mention a version (and there are many) of a passage attributed to Lao-tzu that perhaps offers some unusual but worthwhile perspective as we go along.

A great seeker hears of The Way—begins following wholeheartedly.                                                     
An average seeker hears of TheWay—takes in some, loses some.                                                           An inferior seeker hears of The Way—laughs with ridicule.                                                               Without that laugh—it would not be The Way.

Bartleby: The lesson must be taught. All are accountable … even God.

Supposing for a moment that a primary, supreme intelligence—in an inexplicable way—daunting to fathom, is absolutely accountable; is doing Its part. How about us?

　
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                                                      The United States Of Leland

Ouch. When The United States Of Leland came out it was, for the most part, pilloried and dismissed by the critics as a quagmire with virtually no elements of redemptive thought or theme - proving that even worldly, seen-it-all movie reviewers want to perceive some positive aspect synthesized out of a tragic story's plot, or at least some relevant irony. The film has fared better with general viewers and informal critics, who seemed to get the intended points better than the pros on this one.
This may actually be a dicey choice for an article on movie quotes, but the subject is more than important enough for any discussion people might want to bring to it. And indeed, unlike some films that have negligible effect and immediately fade, this movie lingers on many minds. This may be because, though it possibly failed to deliver some configuration of answers, response or cause for hope to the questions it raised, and was somewhat stifled in its construction by too much of the "writer's prescence," the questions it raised are relevant and piercing.

Leland Fitzgerald: I think there are two ways you can see the world. You either see the sadness that's behind  everything or you choose to keep it all out.

Who has looked at the world and their lives and not experienced various degrees of the total poignancy of sadness? And each person deals with it in their own unique way, often with great courage. But there is a certain red flag that springs up at the definitive declaration that there is only the sorrow at work that dominantly matters; there is only surrendering to it or desperately ignoring it. This is obviously despair. Perhaps, there is something inside of us that senses that, despite the mystery of the existence of misery and misfortune, appointing it as the primary truth, the whole truth, is—missing something. It has a tell-tale feel of lacking dimension. Sometimes, even in our sadder moments, there can be the whisper of intuition that there is more to the meaning of what is happening than the pain. Although, of course, there are times when there is little or no comfort to be found. This is basically the story of a mind, an intelligent one at that, overwhelmed by sorrow.
　
Leland: The worst part is knowing that there is goodness in people. Mostly it stays deep down and buried. Maybe we don't have God because we're scared of the bad stuff. Maybe we're really scared of the good stuff. Because if there's no God, well, that means it's inside of us and we could be good all the time if we wanted. So when we do bad things, it'd be because we want to or because we have to. Or maybe we just need the bad stuff to remind us what the good stuff is in the first place.
　
The existence of "bad stuff" negates goodness. A tempting conclusion sometimes, born of pain.

TV Reporter: Why did you do it, Leland?
Leland: Because of the sadness.
TV Reporter: What sadness? Whose sadness?
Leland: Your sadness.
　
It can even go so far that goodness becomes an unbearable part of the equation. And our power to make choices, whether some illusion or not, can be a heady realization. Does this cosmic status preclude an originating force at work? Or is existence some truly mysterious alchemy of Creator/Created—with the Created, in turn, having the ability to create a path—countless variations and yet correlated? And, in some ultimately all encompassing way, perfectly correlated? We are all, even the most focused and empowered, in a sort of free fall. And yet, in a certain way, the self we know is steering. And as anyone can attest, the challenge can be wearing.

Albert Fitzgerald: I recall when our lives were unusual and electric. When we burned with something close to fire. But now we sway to a different rhythm. Lives lived without meaning or even directed hope. The passage of time measured only by loss. Loss of a job, loss of a minivan...a son.

Yet, the opposite exists; they define each other as opposites do, and the challenge can be glorious.
More of the alarming meltdown of smart but tragic reasoning.

Leland: I wonder how much of their lives people waste crying and praying to God. If you ask me, the devil makes more sense than God does. I can at least see why people would want him around. It's good to have somebody to blame for the bad stuff they do. Maybe God's there because people get scared of all the bad stuff they do. They figure that God and the Devil are always playing this game of tug-of-war with them. And they never know which side they're gonna wind up on. I guess that tug-of-war idea explains how sometimes, even when people try to do something good, it still turns out bad.

Again, the power and the responsibility of the self. We have an integral history of personifying both the positive and the negative. The devil does make for a frightening force and perhaps a good patsy.
As caring, engaged people, we look at a story like this and want to understand, as best we can, what can be learned—immeasurably more when similiar things occur in real life. Can we apply any insight to prevent the same situations in the future? Are there elements there that would help us better understand ourselves in general? The film points out a very powerful concept as part of a response, and it may strike deeper than it was credited for in the general analysis that followed.

Mrs. Calderon: You have to believe that life is more than the sum of its parts, kiddo.

And later, Leland's assimilation of it.

Leland:This one is something a friend of mine said to me. "You have to believe that life is more than the sum of its parts, kiddo." I remember it right now to the "kiddo" part. But when I think about what she said, the same thing always comes into my head. What if you can't put the pieces together in the first place?

The whole is greater than the sum of its parts. A concept around since the time of Aristotle, as best as can be determined. A variation that is perhaps more so the genus, what Aristotle apparently actually wrote and has been drawn through Gestaltian thought—The whole is different than the sum of its parts.
Different/Greater. Setting aside, momentarily and with great care, the issue of the physiological aspect of mental disturbance, and the whole subject of how that in turn is sourced and can be changed—a huge topic unto itself—what might truly be important to take away from this story in general?
When the frustrations and vagaries of life lead to only the negative being prioritized, and no longer recognized or accepted as a puzzling but defining counterpart to the positive, the result is devastatingly skewered. We all know about the old keep your chin up, think positive, perseverance lines of philosophies. But these ideas, combined with whatever serenity and personal reconcilliation we can find inside ourselves regarding the mystery of good/bad, may indeed be valuable information. Maybe, some of the most valuable of all.

Lady on Airplane: Aren't you an actor?
Albert Fitzgerald: Aren't we all, dear.

A paraphrase, really, of the Bard's "All the world's a stage..." But besides merely players, we also seem to be very much coauthors, and the themes we concentrate on are key—even when the story seems to be happening to us more than it seems that we are doing any of the authoring.

Pearl Madison: I'm only human, man.
Leland: It's funny how people only say that after they do something bad. I mean, you never hear someone say, "I'm only human" after they rescue a kid from a burning building.

Good point. Maybe we need more of "I'm only human" as it relates to all the good, brave, smart, kind, tremendous things people do countless times a day.
The Whole is different, the Whole is greater—than the sum of its parts.

　
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                                                                      Quadrophenia

In the immensely creative power chord that is The Who, Quadrophenia is a milestone.
Considering the volumes of material written about this album and film; this will be a quick review of the movie's obvious but worthwhile messages.
The always soul-teeming London took on a vibrantly electric atmosphere in the world changing 60's. A stratum of this was the Mods, a group and theme that had already started to form in the 50's; punctuated by ultra-cool fashion, speed and snazzy Italian scooters. The tenents and feel of the Mods is powerful enough to have revived more than once; and its influence is still felt. Their natural enemy, of course they had to have one, were the Rockers.
This is perhaps more than a backdrop, as the story comes from the very weave of this time and place; but with it as setting, The Who viscerally explores the depths of a world seemingly made up of horribly tough choices and no choices. Countless people have known this reality. Roger Daltrey once said that when he was growing up, there were three ways off the streets: crime, sports, music. He also said he would have been good at any of them. And you know he would have been.

Perhaps the movie's main point.

               Kevin: That's why I joined the army, to be different

To be your own person, distinguishable and free. Alas, the answer doesn't lie in any external symbols or movements. Those can become as much of a jailer as whatever we're trying to break free from; and sometimes heroes turn out to be bellboys. Though, here we are and what's in front of us is what's in front of us and there are things that we can't help but chase; even become immersed in. Some phases are probably inevitable parts of the road.


             Kevin: I don't give a monkey's arsehole about the Mods and Rockers.Underneath, we're all the same, 
                         aren't we?

             Jimmy: No, Kev, that's it. Look, I don't wanna be the same as everybody else.
                         That's why I'm a Mod, see? I mean, you gotta be somebody, ain't ya, or
                         you might as well jump in the sea and drown.

　
Again, the mistake of being part of a group of some sort to escape being like everybody else; which is also a group of some sort. Still, who can blame us or say its wrong when we sometimes fall for our Italian scooter?; whatever that might be for us. Maybe more vital to examine is the belief that being the same as everyone else, which we are in a certain fundamental sense, sacrifices uniqueness and even any relevancy. It is arguable that the world is growing more and more aware that this is not the case. The beautiful paradox of being elementally homogonous and yet strikingly one of a kind, each and every single one of us; may be surfacing in our common awareness as a great truth.


             (Jimmy shouts from the cliff top after deciding not to be a mod.)

              Jimmy: Me!


Another vital message of the movie

　
               Peter: If you don't work, you don't get paid no money. And I like money.

　
Well, wait. Maybe that's just more succinct than a message. Peter, you should have been a politician or adman. We could use some more getting-to-the-point in both those fields.


              Mr. Fulford: I must say I find your attitude incomprehensible. I feel I must warn you Cooper
                                    that we can't tolerate this kind of absentism amongst our junior staff. You got a good, 
                                    steady job here, Cooper, plenty of young men would give their eye-teeth to be in
                                    your shoes.

　
One of life's possible little vagaries. If you feel imprisoned you feel imprisoned. No matter to what degree you realize or don't realize that you have a break that the next guy doesn't; the feeling is still there. We all know when something is gnawing at us, that it is sadly easy to conjure up examples of those far worse off. Yet, even this reach of perspective does little or nothing, sometimes, to ease the yearning or the pain. What does this tell us about frustrations and desires? Perhaps, that they have their own place and even right to be felt. And while it is no doubt good to think vigilantly of the rest of the world, our own moments are just that; our own.

　
              Mrs. Cooper): Ridin' about on them motorbikes all night, I'm not surprised. It's not normal.
              Jimmy: Oh, yeah? What's normal, then?


What indeed.
'Ere, I mean Here; a relatively subdued but important moment of the film.

　
               Jimmy: 'Ere, I never realized.

               Kevin: Never realized what?

               Jimmy: You's a rocker.


The passed on prejudices and filters switched off due to simply going unnoticed. Would it be so hard to purposefully, merely -- release them?

　
                Steph: Going to be one of the faces?

                Jimmy: What do you mean going to be? I am one of the faces!

　
Jimmy is. We are. We are all one of the faces. Each moving to figure and define what that means for us. Laughing, crying, screaming, whispering. Sometimes, thoughts racing a thousand miles a minute. Running, striving, reaching. Sometimes in repose. Pondering, quiet, nearly silent - with only the rhythm of the rain.

　　
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Where to start with a film that had this much impact? 1989. Written by Tom Schulman and directed by Peter Weir. A host of nominations and awards including an Academy Award for best screenplay. A performance coup for Robin Williams. The focus point of the film's legacy is, of course, a phrase that is nothing short of an entry into the cultural lexicon. A look at the more complete quote is entertaining and definitely worthwhile.

　
               John Keating: Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota
                                        of what they were capable? Because, you see gentlemen, these boys are
                                        now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them
                                        whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in. Listen, you hear it? - -
                                       Carpe - - hear it? - - Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day boys, make
                                        your lives extraordinary.

　
This tale of the human spirit daring to identify and seek freedom...

　
                Keating: I SOUND MY BARBARIC YAWP OVER THE ROOFTOPS OF .
                                        THE WORLD!

　
...is framed, by necessity?, by the tale of the human need to subjugate others. It is set at a boy's prep school, at one time and perhaps still, a virtual template of conformity. And a main component of the drama is the horrible consequences wrought by the proverbial parents who not only don't grasp their child's right to pursue their own path, it is not even in their belief-system vocabulary. This type of tyranny always has it's rationales.

　

                McAllister: You take a big risk by encouraging them to be artists, John. When they 
                                    realize they're not Rembrandts, Shakespeares or Mozarts, they'll hate you 
                                    for it.

                 Keating: We're not talking artists, George, we're talking freethinkers.

　
Our hero is out to liberate his students from any prescribed dogma and he kicks it off by ripping out the filter of mechanistic formalism that prologues the very framework of their studies. And why not? Even Formalists can't agree on primary analytical elements to quantify the soul of poetry. No, of course they can't.

　

                   Keating: We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry
                                   because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with
                                   passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits
                                   and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are 
                                   what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the
                                   questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities
                                   filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer: that you
                                   are here; that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you
                                   may contribute a verse; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute 
                                   a verse. What will your verse be?

　
Keating pays the system's price but wins the soul of the battle.

　
                      Keating: No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the 
                                      world.

　
As some astute observers have pointed out; they're the only things that can.

　
                      Keating: "But only in their dreams can man be truly free. 'Twas always thus,
                                      and always thus will be."

　
So, the crux of this is that an intelligent, courageous person thought that it was worth the trouble and risk to bring home certain concepts to those in his charge. To wit:


 -As Jane Roberts put it in her excellent Seth series and is echoed in philosophy both ancient and new: The point of power is in the present moment.

-You have it in you to be your own best, ultimate authority. Question any force attempting to take that role.


One thing to point out about that last item is the ongoing process of determining if we are keying into our truest, Universe-born impulses or letting a fevered egotism (note: not the same as ego. Whatever the truth about the composition, we are, apparently, rightfully—an "I") tell us that anything we do is justified, if aware of it at all.


                        Keating: Sucking the marrow out of life doesn't mean choking on the bone.

　
So, how do we accomplish this tuning-in of Spirit?; this best authority? No doubt, everyone has their own road toward it. The movie provides a possible exercise.

　
                        Charlie: Welton Academy. Hello? Yes, he is. Just a moment. Mr. Nolan, it's for you. 
                                       It's God. He says we should have girls at Welton.

　
...it's for you. It's God. He says....

Intriguing. Of course, how many have done just that and come back with the message that God said THEY should determine what's right and fill in the blank is suffering because they didn't observe the principles of fill in the blank. A sure sign of that fevered egotism.

　
                         Keating: We're not laughing at you; we're laughing near you.

　
As an ending tangent in that it alludes to self-fulfilling attention and focus...

　
                          Neil Perry: It was a dark and rainy night, and this old lady, who had a passion for 
                                             jigsaw puzzles, sat by herself in her house at her table to complete a
                                             new jigsaw puzzle. But as she pieced the puzzle together, she realized,
                                             to her astonishment, that the image that was formed was her very own
                                             room. And the figure in the center of the puzzle, as she completed it,
                                             was herself. And with trembling hands, she placed the last four pieces
                                             and stared in horror at the face of a demented madman at the window. 
                                             The last thing that this old lady ever heard was the sound of breaking 
                                             glass.

Now, that's just scary.


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                                     Hits to the Heart and Mind from the Land of Dreams

                                                                      NACHO LIBRE cc
                                                                     _____________________________________________

Nacho is a comedy from 1996, co-written by the couple
that brought us Napoleon Dynamite. Reactions were partly tepid. The feeling
was it had fallen short. Still, 100 million worldwide to date. Not exactly couch
change.
It is easy to see the quirky potential that those involved must have seen in this story.
It is downright poignant. To start, it is based on a real-life priest/professional wrestler.
He wrestled to support the orphanage he headed. 

              Nacho: Underneath the robe you find a man. Underneath the man you find his nucleus.

Nacho is this main figure - the cook in a monastery with a colorful but sad
origin. He is a dyed-in-the-wool good guy facing a growingly sharp dilemma -

　
               Nacho: It sucks to be me right now.

　
not enough money for decent food for the children. The stalwart Nacho
does his best to keep hope alive.

　
               Boy: Can't we ever have like a salad or something?

               Nacho: Be grateful, Juan Pablo. Today is especially delicious.

               ------------

               Nacho: I get to sleep alone in my bed every night for the rest of my life. It's fantastic.

　
You see what I mean, it's touching. How can you not feel admiration for this friar? - this
good man who secretly dreams of the glory of being a professional wrestler.

　
                 Nacho: Chancho, when you are a man, sometimes you wear stretchy pants in your
                                room. It's for fun.

　
So very true. Spandex, a beer and the game - what else is there for a guy? Oh, that's
right, there's that dream.

　
                  Nacho: Ok. Orphans! Listen to Ignacio. I know it is fun to wrestle. A nice piledrive
                                  to the face... or a punch to the face... but you cannot do it. Because, it is in
                                  the Bible not to wrestle your neighbour.

　
Yes, the oft quoted but seldom practiced 11th commandment - Thou shall not
tag team. Speaking of religiously delicate subjects, the movie also tackles the
idea of Nacho having deep feelings for the recent arrival, Sister Encarnacion.
Though it is done with a light touch and simple sweetness.

　
                   Nacho: When the fantasy has ended, and all the children are gone. Something
                                  good inside of me, helps me to carry on. I ate somes bugs, I ate some
                                  grass. I used my hand, to wipe my tears. To kiss your mouth, I'd break
                                  my vow.

　
A turning point comes. In the dark of night, Nacho is robbed of, well, chips.

　
                     Monk: What is this?
                     Nacho: Leftovers. Enjoy.
                     Monk: There is no flavor. There are no spices. Where are the chips?
                     Nacho: Somebody stole them.
                     Monk: Did you not tell them that they were the Lord's chips?

　
This starts our main character on a journey to be a wrestler, make money for food and
find those things he's been looking for - longing for.

　
                      Nacho: Okay. Maybe I am not meant for these duties. Cooking duty. Dead guy... 
                                     duty. Maybe it's time for me to get a better duty!

　

This journey includes joining forces with the man who robbed him, the mystical seeking
of personal power, the falling of a hero, ostracization and full tilt pro wrestling drama.

Nacho, like most everyone, thinks about the nicer things in life...


                        Nacho: Me? No. Come on. Don't be crazy. I know the wrestlers get all the fancy ladies,
                                       and the clothes, and the free creams and lotions. But my life is good! Really
                                       good!  I get to wake up every morning, at 5AM, and make some soup!  It's the 
                                       best. I love it.

　
...but the superficial trappings have really melted away in the heat of what's truly
important.

　
                         Nacho: Tonight, I will fight the seven strongest men in town, maybe the world. And I will
                                       win because our heavenly father will be in the ring with me. And he and I will win
                                       10,000 pesos!

　
Render unto Caesar...?

This is a story of a decent person going with the flow/tidal wave of his destiny.
The ride really starts when he is driven to decide between what he has been taught
to believe is right and what he can no longer hold off as being the right thing to do--
in a way, the only thing to do. Again, this movie achieves a measure of true poignancy.
And where does it lead him? Well, probably where he was supposed to be.
Of course, ultimately, there is the same destination for all of us.

　
                           Nacho: This man lived a good life. He had a wonderful woman, a lush garden,...and a
                                           collection of Russian nesting dolls. May he rest in peace.


Maybe even  better than spandex, beer and the game.

　
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                                         Hits to the Heart and Mind from the Land of Dreams


                                                              Angel Heart cc

This cult film from the Eighties was praised for its flair and blending of styles.
It has Robert De Niro as the devil (a scary thing unto itself) in a variation of
the time-honored theme of bartering the Soul for X amount of goods or services.
If you haven't seen this movie before, you may want to have some holy water handy.
Or at least positive-infused moisture of some sort. If you're at the theater,
maybe buy a lemonade from the most angelic looking cherub you can find at the concession.
It is not suprising that Ol' Scratch has some of the best lines. He is, after all,
spiritually and contractually obligated to be devastatingly pithy at all times.

          Harry Angel: "Louis Cyphre"... "Lucifer". Even your NAME is a dime store joke.

           Louis Cyphre: "Mephistopheles" is SUCH a mouthful in Manhattan, Johnny.


In Manhattan? It's a mouthful anywhere.


        Hell. - The Devil proclaiming to the hordes of tortured minions:

       The Devil: Rise, hordes of tortured minions! Rise and hail me; Mephistopheles!

       Hordes of tortured minions in sloppy tandem: Hail! Great Mephosteph...,Mestiphoph..., Metistopa..., 
                                                                                        er, Mestopopee...

       The Devil: Awww, forget it!


One of my favorite lines, however, is from the main character - Harry Angel. Human
character, that is. 

             Louis Cyphre: Are you an atheist?

             Harry Angel: Yeah, I'm from Brooklyn.


Is it possible to be so urban, so street savvy, that you're not about to fall for ANY phony
come-on? Including those shifty Creator of the Universe scams designed to separate
you from your hard-earned skepticism?
More from our favorite master of the quip designed to instill doubt and confusion.

　               Louis Cyphre: They say there's just enough religion in the world to make men 
                                         hate one another, but not enough to make them love.

That is commonly credited to Jonathan Swift, also known for going under a handful of
pseudonyms. Swift at some point stopped doing that. The devil, it would seem, has
continued the practice.

                Louis Cyphre: No matter how cleverly you sneak up on a mirror, your reflection
                                         always looks you straight in the eye.

How disconcerting. It seems to me my reflection would have better things to do than
stand around waiting to give me The Look. Hey, all you reflections out there! Get a
hobby, already!

                 Louis Cyphre: The flesh is weak, Johnny. Only the soul is immortal. (darkly) And
                                          yours belongs to ME (eyes chillingly shine yellow).

Which leads us to another time-honored concept. The immortal Soul and the idea that
a malevolent force could take permanent possession of it. Just for the sake of the
topic, let us say that we are talking about whatever that mysterious packet of energy it
is that animates us, and its point of origin, and that this energy is immortal. To whatever
degree we can really grasp this concept—it is eternal. Its point of origin, its source, well,
inexplicable. Perhaps beyond verbal or even "rational" definition. So, whatever this Soul,
this facet of essential Spirit is sourced by—is that Source configuring it as eternal that it
might (inevitably) fall prey to fault and as a result—horrible suffering for some one-
dimensional definition of endless? Or is it eternal to, among other things, come to learn
the meaning of giving and receiving Mercy? Which one sounds more like the Way of a
singular, probably sublime, mysterious Source to you? Now, I'm just asking. Not trying to
sell you on one of those shady Creator schemes.

However, I do have somethin' that you're gonna like! And you are almost certainly
gonna walk away with some cash, or should I say scratch, in your pocket, my friend!
All you gotta do is keep your eye on that Queen of Hearts...

　

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