So last night was it! The opening of The Hunger Games. I was excited as could be about seeing this movie. A couple weeks ago I had an unfortunate and happily resolved illness which basically gave me a week to read through the whole trilogy. I know, I know, I came to the Games late – my friend Peter has been raving about the trilogy for years. The three books are a compelling, political, thrilling look at a dystopian not-too-distant future that seems all too possible. Why just last night as we were leaving the theater, my friends and I were confronted with this response to the Occupy Wall Street protesters in Union Square:
The books paint a deep and meaningful picture of a world gone horribly wrong in a society not far off from where we are right now. Reading these books, I was constantly reminded of some of my favorite Margaret Atwood novels, e.g. The Handmaid’s Tale and Oryx and Crake. In short, I loved The Hunger Games Trilogy.
Unfortunately, I didn’t love the movie. Believe me, I wanted to. And in general, I’m a fairly easy-going guy with book adaptations. I really want to like things, and I have a huge suspension of disbelief capacity. I did think the movie was a lot of fun. It looked great. The music was beautiful. The costumes and makeup were terrific. My favorite addition to the movie was the emphasis on the backstage machinations of the Gamemakers. Watching them add and remove elements of the Game on their 3D multitouch interface highlighted the disconnect between the citizens of the Capitol and the real human children dying for the Capitol’s entertainment.
The problem, of course, is that it wasn’t as good as the book. I mean, what movie ever is? Is that even fair to say?
My complaints about the movie independent of the book are small. First and foremost was Peeta’s hair. I know he’s supposed to be blond, but that dye job was awful, down to his eyebrows. I would rather him just have kept his own hair color. It’s not as if that were relevant to the story. Also, I thought too many of the shots were close and cut too quickly. I get that that emphasizes the speed and the action, but I longed for more expansive shots. (I agree with my good friend Stacy on that 100%.)
As far as comparing the book to the movie, I wish they would have done a lot of things differently. I loved the fun poked at the accent of the Capitol in the book. So why is Effie the only one with an accent? And if District 12 is essentially Appalachia, why do all its denizens sound like well-polished newscasters? This would have added so much to it from my point of view.
I also wish they would have kept the Mayor’s family in the story. I know there’s only so much time, but the Mockingjay pin just doesn’t have the gravity it’s supposed to without that whole backstory.
And really, that’s what’s missing from the movie overall: backstory. I was so moved by the backstory in the books, and most of it didn’t make it into the movie. I’m not a filmmaker, so I don’t know how they could have done it. It was already long for many audiences at around two and a half hours. As it stands, though, it doesn’t feel as three dimensional to me as the book did.
Don’t get me wrong. The movie is loads of fun. I will go and see all the sequels on opening night. I will buy merchandise. And I will tell everyone to go see it. It is 100% worth seeing. But it’s good, not great.
I would love to hear your comments below.
Addendum: I forgot about one whole aspect of the movie I wanted to talk about – the “love story”. The strangest part of watching this movie was hearing the audience laugh out loud every time there was some romantic interaction between Peeta and Katniss and then laugh even harder when they would cut to shots of Gale back in District 12. Clearly in the book this is not an occasion for laughter, and I doubt the filmmakers intended for them to elicit titters, but the audience was practically slapping its knees every time it happened. I’m pretty sure Stacy, who commented below experienced this same thing when she saw it, but she attributed this, I think, to having watched it with an audience full of Tweens. I, however, saw it in a theater full of 20- and 30-something New Yorkers, and they laughed all the same.
If you’re friends with me on Facebook, you probably already know that I’m obsessed with the Empire State Building. I am sometimes struck dumb by it. On the occasion of this picture, I was on the phone with my good friend Micah Matthias discussing his wedding while I walked down 6th Avenue. I looked up. I stopped and asked Micah if I could call him back. He obliged. After I took a few pictures, I called him back. He asked what had happened. I sheepishly told him. Fortunately, Micah loves me enough to forgive my little oddities, and he laughed along with me! What friends I am blessed to have! And what a glorious city with its graceful Empire State Building!
For a few years now, I have considered myself under the umbrella of Radically Inclusive Christian. Sometimes I veer more toward Universalist, and sometimes I lean back hard into my Catholic upbringing. These shifts in my sails sometimes vex me, but more often than not they give me succor, because I know that know matter what way the wind is blowing, I am carried always in the everlasting arms of my ever-loving God.
I have not always felt this way. For many years I felt that I could not be a part of The Church. I thought that being Queer meant being apart from the organized institutions of religion. I thought there was no place for me there, even though some wise and loving leaders let me know in my youth that God loved me as I am even if The Church didn’t. In my youth I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, believe them. I left the church and thought I would go it on my own.
At a certain point in my adulthood, I found myself in need of God again, and God brought me teachers like Jay Bakker, David Lewicki, and Dr. Arthur Caliandro, three straight, cisgender, white men who reminded me that God loves me. They showed me that I could be part of the Body of Christ just as I am. They re-introduced me to Jesus and introduced me to congregations whose love and support carry me even today.
But I hunger for something more. I hunger for justice and equality and righteousness. Those men, and the congregations that follow them, hunger for those things as well. But I hunger for a justice they cannot understand. I am grateful for their support, their leadership, and their welcome. I am grateful for their affirming words and actions. But I hunger for a new food. I hunger for the Bread of New Life. And New Life means new voices. I want to hear from people like Brian Gerald Murphy, Jules Kennedy, Shay Kearns, Roman Rimer, and Mieke Vandersall. These Queer people have taught me to love radically, to open myself up to the love of God, to reach out in service, and to create a table that is beyond what I could have imagined a few years ago.
With them and others I am building a new table out of new materials. This table will not turn others away, but at the same time it demands action. Everyone is invited, but people must be willing to sacrifice, to let things go. There are those who have already staked their claim in a kingdom who would deny me and others a share of God’s grace. Can you imagine the hubris? That anyone would think they have “the answer” and that others ought to be excluded? I am reminded of the rich man and the camel. Jesus says it would be easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God. These men (they’re mostly men) of privilege who believe they can dictate who is in and who is out are the rich men of the parable. Sometimes they say they are inclusive or at the very most welcoming, but often they stop short of truly embracing me as a fully engaged member of the Body of Christ. I invite them to come to the table if they are willing to let go of their narrow-minded vision of inclusion. I invite them to come in the spirit of radical inclusion that bolsters my faith. To me radical inclusion means, “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,” your lesbian, gay, bi-, transgender, transsexual, trans-masculine, trans-feminine, trans*, queer, questioning, doubting, hungering, sexual, asexual, afraid-of-sex, indulging-in-sex, and more. Radical inclusion means I’m part of creating a new table that includes those who have not been. I don’t have to welcome those who hate/despise/judge/condemn me into my house. I am happy to dine with them somewhere in public, but not in my sanctuary. However, let them give up their judgment of my so-called sin, let them choose radical inclusion of all in the Body of Christ, let them proclaim from the rooftops that LGBTQ people are not just welcomed but affirmed in their congregations, and then we may all dine together in our holiest of places. We will then all see that we are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord. And they’ll know we are Christians by our Love.
The last thing I want to say is that I am not an expert at any of this. I try my best to live up to the notion of radical inclusion, and I surround myself with people who will challenge me when I falter. It certainly isn’t easy, and yet it is simple. When I doubt, I try to remember that God loves me. When I doubt that, I listen to Jennifer Knapp remind me of God’s Grace. “His Grace Is Sufficient”
We’re having a heat wave… a tropical heat wave!
The summer time seems to be here already, even though the Summer Solstice isn’t for a couple of weeks still. For me, personally, it’s harder to operate when I’m hot than when I’m cold. I don’t know why that is, but a chilly winter day just means an extra sweater or coat, but a really hot, humid day just leaves me sweaty and drained.
I have found that the best way to escape from the heat is to be of service. Hot is hot, but a lot of it is in my mind thinking about how hot it is, hearing the meteorologist talk about it, seeing the icon on my Weather Bug App showing a little cactus, listening to my 4th Graders complain about walking up and down the stairs. So, in the face of all those things, I try to keep my heart and my ears open and look for opportunities to be of service.
Need some suggestions?
- Help someone carry the baby’s stroller up or down those subway steps.
- Volunteer to take a picture for some tourists struggling to hold their phone at arm’s length for a self-portrait.
- Ask someone gazing quizzically at a city map if they need help.
- Carry some nuts, granola, fruit, or extra bottles of water in your bag to give away to people who are hungry or thirsty.
- Read Brian Murphy’s “A Menu of Small Things” for more.
Do you have other suggestions? Please contact me on twitter or comment below. I would love to hear from you.
Before I go, I have one other suggestion: don’t tell anyone what you did! It’s difficult not to talk about it, but I find it’s more rewarding when it’s something I have kept between God and me.
And finally, here’s a song, in case you want to revel in the heat: The Lovin’ Spoonful’s “Summer in the City.”
So, despite my best intentions, I’m a pretty sinful person. on the surface, it wouldn’t seem like that, but I covet, judge, envy, and more with the best of them.
Lately, it’s been bad. So, I asked my spiritual advisor what actions I could take that would help relieve me of this bondage of self that keeps me separate and isolated. He gave me a pretty radical idea: every time I judge someone, envy them, or covet their things he suggested that I bless them instead. Oh, and here’s the really radical part. He said I don’t even have to believe it, but just take the action over and over again. And guess what? It is working! All day long, whenever one of my self-centered thoughts came up, I directed a blessing at the person instead. (Just to be clear, this is all happening only within my mind and heart.)
I could not believe the results! After one day, I am left with a measure of relief that is pretty significant … believe me, it is tedious going around all day judging, envying, and coveting. I received some measure of freedom. And this allowed me to build stronger relationships with the people I interacted with throughout the day.
What a joy! It let me feel like I was participating in the Kingdom on Earth as it is in Heaven.
I’m going to try to keep this up.
Any thoughts from you?
