Watching: The Pianist

“An adaptation based on the autobiography of the acclaimed Polish composer, Wladyslaw Szpilman, who detailed his survival during World War II, and narrowly escaped a roundup that sent his family to a death camp. A composer and pianist, Szpilman played the last live music heard over Polish radio airwaves before Nazi artillery hit. There, in Poland, Szpilman struggled to stay alive--even when cast away from those he loved. He spent the duration of the war hiding in the ruins of Warsaw and scavenging for food and shelter. Szpilman eventually reclaimed his artistic gifts, and confronted his fears--with aid from the unlikeliest of sources.” (from Yahoo! Movies)

Funny how opinions can change. I remember when this movie first came out in theaters, I was determined (for a reason I don’t even recall now) I would hate it—that it would be terrible—that I would never see it. Being a pianist myself (to a certain extent), the argument seems somewhat ridiculous now. I’m not sure why I wasn’t intrigued—why I wouldn’t have wanted to see it simply because it was about a pianist. But all such reflection aside, I finally sat down and watched it last week, and I was blown away.

As a musician, the musical aspect of the film of course thrilled me. It all begins with a beautiful rendition of Chopin’s Nocturne in C# Minor, and many more delightful piano solos pervade the entire soundtrack. One of the most incredible scenes comes when Szpilman is discovered by a German soldier as he is hiding in a ransacked house that happens to have a piano. When Szpilman says he was a pianist in Poland prior to the war, the soldier tells him to play something and prove it—and he does. The resulting scene is one of the most beautiful in the film, as Szpilman pours out his soul in a soaring, heart-wrenching piece. The German soldier can only stand back in awe.

Adrien Brody’s performance as Szpilman is amazingly effective, not only in a convincing presence at the piano (did he really learn that Chopin nocturne?!), but throughout the entire film. He is rough and yet emotional, portraying so well the pianist’s tortured reactions to the events surrounding him. It was certainly an Oscar-worthy performance, and for once, Hollywood agreed. Having only seen Brody in Peter Jackson’s King Kong and M. Night Shyamalan’s The Village, I was quite impressed to see him in this type of role. The supporting case was superb as well, although it is Brody who steals the most screen time. Worthy of mentioning, however, are Emilia Fox, Ed Stoppard, and Thomas Kretschmann—despite the fact that all three played relatively minor characters, they still added greatly to the film.

Roman Polanski’s direction is quite brilliant throughout the film. His up-close and intimate style, while not always pleasant to watch (especially when it involves Nazis torturing Jews), is very effective in conveying such an emotional story. Several small, unique touches add tremendously to the film’s drama; for example, one particular scene involves Nazis making their way down a street, torching every building and throwing grenades everywhere, eventually reaching the building where Szpilman is hiding. Instead of simply using the sounds of the explosions as grenades come through the windows, Polanski goes for a very unique option: he lets the view hear what Szpilman would have heard. Rather than deafening explosions, we hear a high-pitched ringing, the explosions dull and muffled, as if hearing has been impaired. Several other unique techniques such as this make the film very impressive from a technical point of view.

I am of that unorthodox persuasion that a truly good film can be enjoyed over and over again, not merely once. There are, however, some films that simply do not fit into this category. Braveheart, for example, is not one I would watch repeatedly. Saving Private Ryan might fall into the one-viewing category. The Pianist is also one of those films, and although I found it to be quite excellent, it is not necessarily one I would go watch again right away. The story is tough; it’s fiercely emotional; it’s draining in many ways. True to life, the film accurately depicts Nazi abuse of the Jews, and it can be horrendous to watch. As a group of Jews stand fearfully in line, German soldiers order the oldest of the men to step forward and fall to their knees. The soldiers then brutally murder every single one in front of the rest of the group. One German officer gleefully whips one Jew after another, and his fellows laugh and jeer when he says, “Do you know why we’re beating you? We’re celebrating New Year’s Eve.” Atrocities are portrayed, sometimes graphically, and although it is all true to reality, it is nonetheless disturbing to watch at times.

Yet there is redemption amidst darkness. When a Nazi captain shows mercy and even kindness to Szpilman, we are reminded that there were good, brave men on both sides of the fight. Szpilman and his family and many others are courageous in the face of unfathomable hardship. Non-Jewish friends risk their lives and homes to save Jews, oftentimes paying by imprisonment or by giving their lives. Families give up everything just to be together. Yes, the story is dreadfully dark, but there is light and hope as well.

All in all, it is an incredible story of survival, family, courage, self-sacrificing love, and the triumph of good over evil. Superbly acted, brilliantly directed, and beautifully scored, The Pianist is the sort of film that will stay with you long after the proverbial music has faded away.

Rated R for violence and brief strong language. Highly recommended for the mature viewer.

On the Bookshelf: Over Sea, Under Stone by Susan Cooper

The Drew family is vacationing in the tiny coastal town of Trewissick, long and lazy weeks of summer stretching before them. Simon, Jane, and Barney Drew are particularly enthused by the prospect—not only will they have a chance to explore the Grey House, where they will stay for four weeks, but they will also spend the time with their beloved and mysterious Great-Uncle Merry. How could a vacation get any better?

Then one afternoon, as the children are exploring the Grey House’s attic, they find a strange, crumbling old manuscript, including what looks like a map. What adventure will this enigmatic manuscript bring them? Where could the map lead? And most importantly, what is the significance of two names they can decipher in the manuscript: Marcus and Arturus.

Confiding in their wise uncle, the children embark on a quest to find a mystifying treasure that seems somehow linked to the legendary King Arthur. But as they follow clues and solve mysteries, it soon becomes clear that the journey involves more adventure (and even danger) than any of them anticipated. Surrounded by enemies and unsure of who they can trust, Simon, Jane, and Barney begin to wonder whether they will ever recover the treasure that is “over sea, under stone.”

~ * ~

Author Susan Cooper’s style is vaguely reminiscent of Elizabeth Enright, author of books such as The Four-Story Mistake and Then They Were Five. Simple and easy to read, Cooper’s writing is obviously directed to children, and yet there is much more to it than an average children’s story. Her writing is alternately engrossing, humorous, heartwarming, and even slightly creepy at times. Yes, from a literary perspective, the book is simplistic and unassuming, but an intriguing plot adds to an already-effective style to create a highly enjoyable story.

~ * ~

I admit it—I love children’s stories. I am, of course, an unswerving fan of more “sophisticated” tales as well, but I love the heartwarming simplicity of a well-written children’s book. Over Sea, Under Stone proved a prime example of everything that should exist in such a book: a storyline that fascinates the reader, characters that are real and lovable, and a clear telling of the battle between good and evil. All three aspects are clearly present in Over Sea, Under Stone.

Simon, Jane, and Barney experience all kinds of adventures after finding the manuscript, and along the way they begin to learn about and exemplify the most important character traits—courage, loyalty, love for one’s family, trust, and ultimately, a determination to do good and to fight evil. As Great-Uncle Merry guides them in their quest, they long to be like the great leaders of old, as their uncle described: “Sometimes, over the centuries, this ancient battle [between good and evil] comes to a peak. The evil grows very strong and nearly winds. But always at the same time there is some leader in the world, a great man who sometimes seems to be more than a man, who leads the forces of good to win back the ground and the men they seemed to have lost.” What better adventure could three siblings set out upon?!

In short, Over Sea, Under Stone is a delightful little book, for child and adult alike. Yes, the plot is somewhat simplistic. Yes, you might see through some of the plot twists before they’re revealed. But try to read with the adventure-seeking mind of a child. Let the story take you back to childhood quests of your own. You won’t be disappointed. As C.S. Lewis once said, you might enjoy the so-called children’s story better as an older reader—since you are able to put more into it, you will get more out of it.

Highly recommended as an excessively enjoyable read for any reader.

Currently Watching: The Greatest Game Ever Played

“Francis Ouimet was a working-class immigrant kid who--flanked by a 10-year-old caddie smaller than his golf bag--started with nothing and came out of nowhere to break down the barriers and become America's first golf hero nearly a century before Tiger Woods. In a world where it was believed only the wealthy and privileged could play, and win, at golf, it took an outsider to change the rules forever and prove that anyone with enough courage, grit and faith could achieve greatness. It all came to a head at the 1913 U.S. Open. Suddenly, Francis found himself in an ultimate showdown of skill and spirit--he, the unknown upstart American, facing off against Harry Vardon, a U.S. Open winner and six-time British Open champion (a record that still stands today) who was the sport's undisputed champion. One was a towering idol, the other an impossible underdog--and their legendary battle would transcend sport to become an illustration of human determination at its best.” (From Yahoo! Movies)

Okay, so maybe the underdog-wins-glory story is a bit clichéd; maybe we have seen it a hundred different ways. But guess what? I don’t care. This movie has huge heart, and despite what the critics might have said, the story is beautiful and inspiring.

Shia LeBeouf, coming out of movies such as I, Robot and the 2003 oddball Holes, gives an inspired performance as Francis Ouimet. LeBeouf gives Francis a quirkiness and genuine, heartwarming kindness that causes the viewer to cheer for him all the way through the film. This film showcases a brilliant young actor who has matured in the past several years and is certain to go far in his career. Stephen Dillane is an excessively talented actor who pulls off the quiet determination of Henry Vardon with graceful ease. His performance is a pleasure to see. Probably the biggest surprise of the film is Josh Flitter, who portrays Francis’s ten-year-old caddy, Eddie Lowery. Flitter delivers a surprisingly strong and humorous portrayal of Francis’s unlikely advisor and moral support agent, particularly strong for such a young actor.

Bill Paxton’s directing is brilliant throughout, along with unique cinematography and camera angles that bring the golf matches to life in an extraordinary way. Even someone who is not usually a fan of golf (like myself) will be riveted by the “storytelling” intensity of the matches. I found myself holding my breath as Francis and Harry took their final strokes. Throughout the film, the cinematographic style is up-close and engaging, further enhancing an already-engrossing storyline. Coupled with lovely scenery and beautiful costuming, the film is a feast for the eyes.

But at the heart of everything is the story—as it should be in any truly great film. In The Greatest Game Ever Played, we meet characters who are real and genuine; those who have suffered, and who have climbed the ladder of life to defy society’s norms; those whose mistaken pride leads them to believe that an underdog can never ultimately succeed; those who are steadfast, faithful, encouraging, and loyal against all odds; and those who realize that there is more to life than they ever imagined before. We feel for these characters; we cheer at Francis’s triumphs and are downcast by his defeats.

Francis’s tense relationship with his father creates a main part of the film’s conflict, and we empathize with his struggles as he desires to submit to the wishes of a father who does not understand him while still hoping to follow his dreams. Although Francis eventually defies his father by playing in the U.S. Open, it is his consistent efforts to obey his father’s wishes and make him proud (instead of the open, rebellious denial so often celebrated by Hollywood today) that finally softens the tough, grim father’s heart toward a son who truly does love him. The final culmination of this ongoing confrontation comes at the conclusion of the Open—and it’s a tear-jerker.

Francis’s lifelong admiration of Harry Vardon is one of the key aspects of his story, and although it is jolting when he finally discovers that his idol is still human, he proves how a young person can look up to someone he admires and learn much by following an example.

Young Eddie Lowery proves a staunchly loyal and supportive friend to Francis, and although the onlookers jeer at the amateur with a caddy barely bigger than his golf bag, the unflinching Eddie counters them all with a characteristic, biting, “Ya gotta problem?!” In his turn, Francis returns Eddie’s loyalty as well. On the last day of the Open, when the managers want to replace Francis’s caddy with someone who can “truly give him advice,” Francis exclaims, “Eddie’s doing a great job for me!” He refuses to let anyone take over as caddy, and he assures a tearful Eddie, “We’re a team.” As Eddie trots back out to the course, Francis’s final retort startles the managers: “Don’t ever talk to my caddy again.”

Loyalty and true friendship triumph, family is reunited through many trials and tests, arrogance and selfishness meet their just reward, and a young man’s dreams reach for an impossible goal that defies custom and societal norms. The “caddy boy” proves it doesn’t take high breeding or wealth to make history; rather, it takes hard work and a heart that never stops dreaming. Oh, and one heck of a lot of determination that makes for “the greatest game ever played.”

Rated PG for brief mild language. Highly recommended; 9.5 out of 10.

Thoughts on a Sermon 2:

“Spiritual Adultery”

This morning’s sermon expounded on James 4:1 – 5, focusing on the idea of spiritual adultery, as stated specifically in verse 4: “Adulterers and adulteresses! Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Whoever therefore wants to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God.” (James 4:4) Pastor Shaun covered three main points concerning this issue: firstly, some of the symptoms of spiritual adultery—when spiritual adultery has been committed, we will experience strife among brethren, and we will face unanswered prayer. Secondly, the essence of spiritual adultery—we are abandoning the true God and seeking self pleasure rather than God’s glory. In the act of spiritual adultery, we are forsaking our true love—our Beloved, our Lord—and going after another love. I am “betrothed” to my Savior; therefore, how am I demonstrating my love for my “future husband” when I forsake Christ and follow after the world?! Finally, we saw the heart of God toward those who have committed spiritual adultery—how even when we forsake Him, He does not forsake us, but “desires [us] to jealousy.” He will not let His people go, and He will ultimately remain faithful to us even when we are unfaithful to Him.

It was, as always, a powerful and convicting sermon, but there was one “blew my mind” thought in particular: why embrace the world when we know it will never satisfy us? It’s a lesson we as Christians have learned over and over again as we walk with the Lord, but it’s also one of those lessons our selective memories easily forget; thus we must continue to experience it over and over again. We know the world never satisfies. We all have seen it to one extent or another. No matter what we seek, no matter where we seek it in the world, if it is anything besides Christ, it will never ultimately satisfy. Every promise of the world will ultimately come up empty-handed, and the pleasures we sought prove to be pain and sorrow instead. The world’s promises and allurements are shallow, meaningless, false. We know this. And yet, we still continually stray from the straight and narrow path to seek after the world!

How difficult is it for me to realize that only God can truly satisfy? How many times must I stray away from Him before I recognize the futility of life apart from His face? I have known the joys of communion with my Savior, and I should be seeking such communion every single day of my life! Why is it so hard to remember? Why do I continually forget? If my heart belongs to my betrothed, why would I ever look elsewhere for my heart’s satisfaction? Is it not enough to gaze upon His face, to know that He has set His love on me before the foundation of the world, to know that He is faithful to me even when I am infinitely unworthy? How can there be one moment when my gratitude loses its fervor? Why do I, for one moment, take my eyes off His face?!

Why seek the world when I know it will never satisfy?

On the Bookshelf: Doomsday Book by Connie Willis

Summary
In 2056, historians work differently than they do now. Instead of merely researching and gathering information concerning a time period that is currently being studied, a historian opts for a much more direct method—a full-fledged trip back in time. Historians want to study the Middle Ages? No problem: have the proper technicians plug dates and calculations into the time travel “net,” and the experience is open. Just make sure the adventurer makes her rendezvous with the net, or she might be trapped in the 1300’s for much longer than she intended.

It is against this backdrop that Connie Willis introduces us to Kivrin, a young and enthusiastic historian who has cherished for years a dream of visiting the Middle Ages. We also meet Mr. James Dunworthy, Kivrin’s mentor and the man who has reluctantly trained her, preparing her for the trip of a lifetime. Doomsday Book opens just as Mr. Dunworthy and Dr. Mary Ahrens—the woman responsible for ensuring that Kivrin was medically protected before visiting the disease-ridden 1300’s—are witnessing Kivrin’s departure to 1320. Events are not perfect to begin with, and when Badri, the technician operating the net, suddenly falls ill and insists something has gone wrong with Kivrin’s drop, it is clear that Mr. Dunworthy, Dr. Ahrens, and Kivrin are all about to enter the toughest adventure of their lives.

Writing
Connie Willis displays a very unique, almost odd writing style throughout the book. Taken at face value, one or two sentences at a time, the writing in not particularly impressive. It’s passive, imperfect—and yet at the same time, absolutely enthralling. By relying heavily on dialogue and using brief, pithy descriptions, Ms. Willis manages to minimize imperfections and present her story in a manner that is both simplistic and highly complex. The perspective of the story changes perspective between Kivrin and Mr. Dunworthy and Dr. Ahrens about every other chapter, the suspense keeping the reader engrossed through every single page. Though somewhat bizarre at times, the story itself is fascinating, and Mr. Willis’s writing does the tale justice. Despite being somewhat unconventional, her technique is nevertheless quite personal and excessively engaging.

Characters
Rarely do I empathize with characters as much as I did while reading Doomsday Book. Ms. Willis brings her characters alive in quite a remarkable way. Kivrin is flawed—Mr. Dunworthy is eccentric—Dr. Ahren’s nephew Colin is a constant laugh—and they all are real, convincing, and genuinely fascinating. Character development is one of the most important aspects of storytelling, and Ms. Willis does it flawlessly.

Overall Effect
Yes, there are some problems. As a Christian, it stings a bit to see Ms. Willis’s apparent “digs” at Christianity throughout the book, and nearly all her theological assertions are utterly false. Setting the story during the Christmas season allows for some interesting church experiences for the characters, none of which are particularly favorable. The only positive Christian reference seems to be Father Roche, the kindhearted priest Kivrin meets in her journey back in time. This was something of a disappointment, and, along with several other moral issues, affected my overall enjoyment of the book.

Nevertheless, Ms. Willis has still created an extremely inventive and engaging story. I’ve never yet seen time travel dealt with in such a sophisticated and feasible way. It makes the reader wish the net really existed! Despite its flaws, the story is engrossing—one that would cause the dedicated reader sleep deprivation in order to discover its conclusion.

Doomsday Book is quite lacking a stereotypical happy ending. It’s tragic—heartrending—even depressing in many ways as Kivrin pushes through heartbreaking trial after trial. And yet, there is a message of redemption and hope amidst the darkness; the reader is left feeling that Kivrin did fulfill the role of the angel Father Roche insisted she was. At the last page, the story seems somewhat unfinished, the ending not so satisfactory as it might have been, but the book’s closure comes as Kivrin experiences her dream and becomes a messenger of hope amid one of the darkest centuries history has ever known.

Recommended for the mature, serious reader.

Thoughts on a Sermon:

"The Wisdom From Above"
(Written last night after returning home from church.)

What an incredible blessing it is to be part of a church where both doctrine and life are taken so seriously. It is (seemingly) increasingly difficult to find such a church, especially in mainstream Evangelicalism as a whole, and I am so blessed to share in the fellowship at a church where both doctrine and life are in their proper place. What a blessing to have been led to such a gem. That being said, I intend to start sharing thoughts on sermons as part of my "regular" (or not so regular, as the case may be) blogging. Whenever I am encouraged, convicted, inspired, or just struck by something in a sermon, I will blog on it, bringing my thoughts out of my mind’s dark recesses and into a realm where they are perhaps not so easily forgotten!

This evening’s sermon was on James 3:17 – 18, particularly focusing on how godly wisdom—the true "wisdom from above"—is pure, peaceable, gentle, reasonable, full of mercy, unwavering, and without hypocrisy. Apart from preaching an extremely excellent and profoundly convicting and yet encouraging sermon, Pastor Shaun said one thing in particular that truly struck me:

Christ did not demand immediate perfection from His disciples. Instead, He was patient with them in their sanctification. It is so easy for me to become so frustrated and discouraged by my lack of obedience, and despair of being able to truly follow Christ. And yet, if He was so patient with His disciples during His earthly ministry, how could He not be patient with me as well? He will not demand immediate perfection from me any more than He demanded it from His disciples. He certainly could have required it. He was the perfectly, absolutely holy Son of God, and who on this earth could ever have been more justified in demanding equal perfection from those who would seek to follow Him? Yet He dealt patiently and gently with His disciples, even in their weaknesses, and He will do the same for me as well. Sanctification is a process, and though it might seem to be stalled in my life at times, I know my faithful and patient Savior will see it through to the end. "[I am] confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in [me] will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ." (Philippians 1:6)

Other random thoughts, taken from something that was mentioned in Sunday School this morning:

As we’ve been studying church history in the adult Sunday School class, we’ve seen over and over again how God always revives His truth in the midst of even the most overpowering spiritual and moral darkness. It was out of the dark shroud of 17th Century popery and superstition that the first lights of the Reformation came—it was through fierce persecution and blatant hatred of the Gospel that the Scottish Covenanters gave their lives for the sake of Christ, and thus the church was once again forwarded through the blood of martyrs. It is easy for me to look at the current state of the modern church and despair because of the countless heresies and abuses that have once more crept within her walls, but I am reminded through history that God has never forsaken His faithful church in the midst of darkness. It is from the greatest darkness that the brightest light often comes. It may be that from the darkness of current ignorance and apathy in our country and our world, a new Reformation will sweep through our churches, and once again the true light of the Gospel will shine from the pulpit and from the lives of believers as we seek to bring Christ’s Good News to a dying world.