A quick movie review:
Tara and I went to see the film “Eastern Promises” last night. Directed by David Cronenberg (the man who brought to us powerfully unnerving films like “Dead Ringers,” “The Fly,” “History of Violence,” “Naked Lunch,” “Scanners,” and “The Dead Zone”), “Eastern Promises” stars Viggo Mortensen and Naomi Watts, both of whom turn in powerful and richly textured performances. The film tells the story of clashing portions of the Russian mafia in London. What I have just offered, of course, is an inadequate one-sentence synopsis of a rather elaborate narrative. But what make the film so interesting and compelling are the relationships, choices, and circumstances that the narrative deftly places before the audience.
Cronenberg’s strength as a director, I think, is his ability to create a balance between subtlety and spectacle, between minimalism and excess. That particular strength is on full display in this film (much as it was in last year’s “History of Violence.”). There are scenes in the film that are wonderfully understated and tender. There are also scenes that are so stark and brutal in their content that I was forced to look away from the screen. In the hands of a director like Cronenberg, such cinematic juxtaposition is quite a strange and welcome treat.
The film is not for the squeamish, to be sure. But I found it to be an engaging exploration of the life-altering moral impulses that occasionally emerge in those contexts in which moral impulses would be least expected—like the Russian mafia, for example, or an enormously dysfunctional family (both of which are focal points in the film).
At one point in the film, this dialogue occurs at a family dinner table:
Stepan: Where is your boyfriend, why isn’t he carving the meat?
Anna: I don’t live with Oliver anymore; I’m staying with Mom for a little while.
Helen: And you can stay as long as you want.
Stepan: It’s because he is black. They run off; bad blood.
Helen: [Helen and Anna are both taken back] He was a doctor.
Anna: What does that have to do with anything?
Stepan: You shouldn’t mix blood, it isn’t right. That’s why your baby died inside of you.
The film places this non-mafia family before the audience and dares to ask the question: Which is more profoundly immoral—the mafia with its obvious acts of violence and brutality, or the average family with its subtle forms of dehumanization?
It certainly inspired some good conversation on the ride home.
Brings me to the question I often ask myself about my beloved Tony Soprano…is what he did more evil then what we do with subtle forms of dehumanization in our own homes? Hmmmm…interesting stuff!
Thanks for the review. I’ve heard great things about it, particularly Mortensen’s performance. Looking forward to seeing it.
Eric,
If you ever decide to change careers, you really ought to consider being a film critic. Hey, then you’d be able to see all these movies for free!
Jerry
Hi, came to your site through Keith M’s blog. The question of “who is more immoral?” may be a good conversation starter, but in the end the question must move beyond, “who does more damage?” to show does more with what they have been given by God?
Here is a quote from Bruce Larson that answers your question and moves us to the next question:
“Beyond that, it’s impossible to go through life disturbing nothing. You cannot live without breaking some rules, making some enemies, creating a few waves. Thomas Carlyle said, “No man lives without jostling and being jostled. In all ways he has to elbow himself through the world, giving and receiving offense.”
Some years ago I interviewed the administrative head of a psychiatric research hospital near Baltimore. He told me that a great number of his patients couldn’t handle the fact that to live in this world you must do violence to others and to the world, inadvertently or deliberately. If you get a job, someone else doesn’t get it. If you’re the valedictorian of your class, someone else has not made it. Vegetarians abhor the slaughter of animals for food, but they eat plants or destroy trees for firewood. To live you must prey upon the world. This doctor was not a believer, but he had a real appreciation for the Christian concept of a Saviour who can forgive the violence we have all done to someone or something.
To think we can live in the world using nothing and hurting no one is contrary to what we read in the Scriptures. The truth is you only have what you use. A friend of mine had been keeping notes on sermons for many years. He had notes from scores of preachers, famous and otherwise—a huge box of them. He told me, “One day I asked myself exactly what good those sermon notes were. Anything that was of any use is now part of my life.” He took his box of notes and burned it. He realized the futility of storing up truths that had not been applied to his life.”
Larson, B., & Ogilvie, L. J. (1983). Vol. 26: The Preacher’s Commentary Series, Volume 26 : Luke. Formerly The Communicator’s Commentary. The Preacher’s Commentary series (286). Nashville, Tennessee: Thomas Nelson Inc.
Hello, Joe.
Thanks for weighing in.
Just to clarify, I was not attempting to make the point that there is a way through this world that completely avoids all forms of violence and manipulation (physical, spiritual, and emotional).
I was simply highlighting what I received as a film’s cinematic expression of moral ambiguity and the often-surprising manifestation of ethical attentiveness in contexts that, on the surface, seem ethically moribund.
I like the Larson quote. My sense, however, is that the kind of “hurting” that he sees as being a necessary part of the human condition is something different than the kind of hurting that Cronenberg explores in “Eastern Promises.” Cronenberg, in the film, puts a racist and often cold-hearted uncle (who, by all appearances, is an upstanding citizen) side by side with a mafia family, all for the purpose of illuminating our proclivity for hypocrisy and our penchant for compartmentalizing our humanity (all the while patting ourselves on the back for our nobility).
All of which is to say, Cronenberg plays with the boundaries, and I find the playtime revelatory.
Sure, that makes sense and since I have not seen the film, I am not in any way being critical of your observation or your question ( think it is quite good). I am only suggesting that it is a good starting point, and not an ending point for a conversation. If I were to put it though in a “christian” framework, I would say, “all have sinned and fall short of God’s glory.” and “all of us need a Savior.”
But then using film is a great way to say that in a way that connects with our culture so I applaud your effort to make these kinds of connections.
As a matter of fact, I have a few film observations of my own that I have used in teaching but have yet to post on my blog. When I get around to it, would you mind if I use your “Reel Theology” as a category tag? Of course, I will give you credit for the creative title…
Go for it, my brother!
“Reel” on with your bad self!
Don’t worry about crediting me either. I probably unconsciously stole the title from someone else!
Thanks for your good insights.
The film is on my list!
Your kiss is on my list.
Uh…
Er…
I mean…
Blast it! Hall and Oates just took control of my thought patterns!
Thanks Eric!
BAHAHA Hall and Oats is too funny!
B~