SHORT FEATURE: THE BODY ELECTRIC

This week for Aleteia I took in Rush, Ron Howard’s latest biopic in which, for the first time in a long while, he doesn’t completely butcher history. It’s a pretty good movie, but I have to admit, the first time I heard Howard was making a biographical film entitled Rush, the old D&D playing nerd in me got my hopes up for this…

Wait, no, not that! I meant this…

What can I say? If you rolled a d20 back in the 80s, you listened to Rush. Bytor and the Snowdog. The Trees. The entire first side of 2112. Their lyrics were a musical goldmine for fantasy/sci-fi geeks. So much so, that in 1985, Canadian television aired a half hour animated sci-fi tale featuring not only themes based on Rush’s lyrics, but also a soundtrack composed entirely of Rush songs. Go ahead and watch it, but don’t blame me if you feel the urge to dig out your dusty old dice bag before it’s over.

I’m thinking someone from Nintendo must have watched this when it first aired, because that nerdy kid was totally messing with everybody with his Power Glove, even though it would be another four years before that useless thing would be released to an unimpressed public.

But I digress. Back to Rush.

You know, Rush has never been a band that was overly sympathetic to Christians. Although never too in-your-face, Neil Peart’s lyrics have at their best communicated a kind of stoic agnosticism. In fact, in his younger days he seemed to have toyed around with some of Ayn Rand’s ideas, although he appears to have rejected most of the extremes of Objectivism as he’s aged. In recent years, however, following the death of his wife and daughter within ten months of one another, there’s no denying that Peart’s lyrics have taken on a more bitterly antagonistic view of religion. The words to the song Faithless pretty much sum up where his head appears to be right now.

I don't have faith in faith
I don't believe in belief
You can call me faithless
I still cling to hope
And I believe in love
And that's faith enough for me
I've got my own spirit level for balance
To tell if my choice is leaning up or down
And all the shouting voices
Try to throw me off my course
Some by sermon, some by force
Fools and thieves are dangerous
In the temple and market place

It’s actually kind of easy to sympathize a little with Peart. As the Catechism points out, “Illness and suffering have always been among the gravest problems confronted in human life. In illness, man experiences his powerlessness, his limitations, and his finitude. Every illness can make us glimpse death. Illness can lead to anguish, self-absorption, sometimes even despair and revolt against God.” While I can’t really know what’s in his heart, Peart’s latest songs seem to suggest that the recent tragedies in his family have pushed his agnosticism closer to outright atheism. That’s what it sounds like to me anyway.

It doesn’t have to go that way, though. The Catechism goes on to note that illness and suffering “can also make a person more mature, helping him discern in his life what is not essential so that he can turn toward that which is. Very often illness provokes a search for God and a return to him.” Through his songs and writings, Peart strikes me as thoughtful guy who’s always reading, always searching. We may not have heard his final verses on the subject of faith just yet. At least I pray that’s the case, both for Peart and all those others out there plagued with doubts.

PULP CATHOLICISM #035

LIFE’S LIKE A MOVIE: GODZILLA IN THE 60’S & 70’S

One of the first movies I ever reviewed here at the B-Movie Catechism was Gojira, the original 1954 Japanese version of Godzilla. If you’ve never seen the film in its uncut original form, you owe it to yourself to seek it out as soon as possible. Gojira is sci-fi at its finest, offering a combination of fantastical adventure mixed with insightful commentary on the human condition in Japan at the time the film was made. Viewing Godzilla in his original incarnation, it’s impossible not to see the monster as an allegorical representation of the physical and psychological damage the Japanese people suffered as a result of the atomic bombs dropped during World War II, as well as the subsequent atomic weapons tests that continued after the war ended.

But that was in 1954. Beginning with 1964's Ghidorah: The Three-Headed Monster, The Big G’s personality began to undergo a bit of a change. No longer was he portrayed as a mindless force of nature smashing his way through a helpless Tokyo. Instead, the King of the Monsters began to soften up a little towards the tiny creatures scrambling out of the way of his royal footsteps and actually started to protect them from others of his ilk. By the end of the 60’s, Godzilla was officially a good guy, a friend to children everywhere. Sure, he still managed to knock over more than his fair share of buildings while protecting mankind, but amidst the destruction he also managed to pass along lessons to his young viewership, instructing them in a wide range of topics ranging from the evils of bullying (Godzilla’s Revenge) to the dangers of pollution (Godzilla vs. the Smog Monster).

But what has that got to do with me, you might ask? More than you might guess. As longtime readers might recall, one of the primary reasons this blog was started was that it spurred me to study the Church’s teachings more, which in turn would (hopefully) make me a better teacher for the room full of high school juniors and seniors I was put in front of at my local parish. Life goes on, though, and a few years back a combination of health, work, and family issues required me to step away from my volunteer catechist duties for awhile.

Well, guess what?

That’s right, I’ve stomped my way back into the classroom. Now it’s a bit different this time around for a couple of reasons. The first one is that, ostensibly, I’m only in there as an assistant, with the duties of formulating lessons and activities being somebody else’s responsibility. This is because my own child, who has Asperger’s, is enrolled in the class, and there’s the very real possibility that I might have to leave at a moment’s notice if he starts to have a meltdown. Thank God, after two sessions, that hasn’t happened yet. In fact, so far, he’s been the best behaved kid in the room.

Which brings up the other big difference. This time around, it’s not teenagers I’m locked up with, it’s a 5th grade class. And let me tell, you, I was not prepared for the sheer level of silliness, noise, and in-your-face disrespect we’re getting from a bunch of 10 & 11 year olds. Now I do feel a little sympathy for them. After all, it’s a 4:30 weekday class and most of the kids are picked up at school and then directly dumped into faith formation with no break, so I understand there’s some cabin fever at work. But still, the behavior I’ve seen so far goes beyond simple rambunctiousness. It’s such a tough room that the main teacher is already hinting around for a transfer to a younger age group and happily passed the second half of last week’s lesson to me to finish. It’s a mess. Or as I used to call it the first time around… business as usual.

As always, everyone involved will do their best to make sure these kids not only advance in their knowledge of the Church, but hopefully in their relationship with Jesus as well. It might be sloppy and noisy and a few buildings might get knocked over in the process, but God willing, it’ll get done. Pray for the catechists at your local Parish, folks, I’m sure they would appreciate it.

NOW SHOWING AT A BLOG NEAR YOU

My latest review for Aleteia is Prisoners, Denis Villeneuve’s somber (and quite lengthy) thriller/psycho-drama featuring some surprising in-your-face explorations of the effects of sin on the human soul. Yep, you guessed it, it’s time to start rolling out the Academy Award hopefuls. Seems like that season comes sooner and sooner each year, doesn’t it, just like the Christmas decorations in the stores (Which, seriously, I’ve already seen. WTH Hobby Lobby?).

But enough of that serious drama stuff. How about we get back to the things that are our bread and butter around these parts? Hmm, let’s see, a little Doctor Who always hits the spot, and as it so happens, the Aspie Catholic is right in the middle of a survey of all the Doctors in anticipation of the venerable series’ 50th Anniversary. He’s up to Christopher Eccleston now, so all you newbies can feel right at home. If you’re more of a Trekkie than a Whovian, however, then have no fear, Scott & Julie over at A Good Story Is Hard To Find podcast are discussing the classic Trek spoof Galaxy Quest.

Speaking of parodies, Donald R. McClarey over at The American Classic has assembled a collection of Twisted Trailers, previews of existing movies which have been re-edited to alter the tone of the original. Monty Python & The Holy Grail as a big budget blockbuster? Jaws as a Disney Movie? Watch the trailers and you’ll see it’s not as unlikely as you might think. Willy Wonka as a horror movie, though, isn’t really that much of a stretch, is it?

In fact, LarryD over at Acts of the Apostasy has managed to reimagine Willy Wonka as the ultimate orthodox Catholic nightmare. Who knew Wonka’s factory was such a hotbed of liturgical lunacy? While you’re over there enjoying the fun, be sure to drop Larry some well wishes and a prayer or two. He’s been going through some discernment lately and it looks like it’s leading him to take a (permanent?) sabbatical from blogging. I’m not about to argue with God’s plans for someone, but I’ll still miss Larry’s unique take on things.

As it turns out, though, Larry’s not the only Catholic out there who has felt called to move on to new projects. EWTN Producer Daniel Rabourdin and his crew are hoping to film a docudrama about the little discussed religious aspects of the French Revolution, and could use a little help with the funding. Also in need of donations are a group of folks near my neck of the woods who are trying to produce a proof-of-concept trailer, a project they hope will secure backing for the first ever feature film produced by a Catholic Parish. Check them out and see if you might want to help out.

And that should be plenty of reading material for this week. See you next time around.

PULP CATHOLICISM #034

SHORT FEATURE–MICKEY MOUSE’S HAUNTED HOUSE

This week’s review for Aleteia was Insidious: Chapter 2 which features the continuing adventures of the haunted Lambert family. If you like your horror movies on the silly side, you should get a kick out of this one. If not, well, that’s too bad because they’re already working on Chapter 3. What can I say, from the very beginning of motion pictures, people have liked movies about spooky old houses. Even Disney was quick to get in on the act.

Yeesh, ghosts, bats, and skeletons everywhere. Doesn’t anybody ever bother to get their house blessed anymore? They should, you know. There’s a bit more to it than just some priest slinging holy water all over everything. Ernest Graf, O.S.B. explains it this way:

“When the Church exercises her divinely given power of blessing persons and things, she bestows upon these persons or things a special consecration or holiness. The priestly blessing is akin, in its efficaciousness, to the virtue of the Sacraments in the sense that, just as in the Sacraments the carrying out of an external rite signifies and actually produces an inward grace, so the external rite or ceremony of blessing bestows upon the soul certain special, though passing, helps of grace. The priestly blessing does not directly cause an increase of sanctifying grace, for this is the effect of the Sacraments; it bestows what is called actual grace — that divine energy which the soul needs in the countless emergencies and difficulties of our daily struggle with the devil, sin, and our own fallen nature.”

In short, a house blessing (or any blessing for that matter) is like a spiritual booster shot. It’s no guarantee that evil won’t try to invade your home, but the blessing helps build up your soul’s immune system in case it tries. And the best thing is you don’t have to wait until things start to go bump (or shag or twist or Harlem shake) in the night either, you can have your happy home blessed anytime. Try it, you’ve got nothing to lose. Well, except for maybe a few stray dancing skeletons that is.

PULP CATHOLICISM #033

OUTTAKES #046

NOW SHOWING AT A BLOG NEAR YOU

The continent of Europe finally came back from vacation, which means I’m back in front of the big screen for Aleteia. This week I took in Riddick, the latest chapter in the nearly forgotten Chronicles of Riddick series. How was it? Well, if you’ve seen one Riddick movie… then you’ve seen enough.

One of the main problems I had with Riddick is the complete lack of likable characters. I don’t mind a decent anti-hero every now and then, but the loathsome Riddick barely even qualifies for that title. Donald R. McClarey has noticed the dearth of real heroes in movies lately as well, something which has caused him to break out his old Statler Brothers records and ask Whatever Happened to Randolph Scott?

Still, I bet I got more enjoyment out of Riddick than Scott W. from Romish Graffiti did from Gangster Squad. Or Jason Dietz got from Non-Modern got from This Is 40 for that matter. Or Red Cardigan from And Sometimes Tea got from just about any children’s movie released over the past decade.

Who knew Christians were such a tough crowd? Fortunately Fr. Joe over at Southern Fried Catholicism recently ran across a trailer for the upcoming movie Nicaea. That should make Catholics happy at least. Unfortunately, it’s only in pre-production right now, so who knows if it will ever even see the light of day.

Until then, we can always take the time to watch Warm Bodies again like Nancy French at The French Revolution and discover even more theological lessons buried within everyone’s favorite zom-rom-com, or perhaps even catch up on old scary episodes of Doctor Who like Sherry Antonetti from Chocolate For Your Brain.

If you want to see something really scary, though, then by all means head over to Cinetropolis where Tim Pelan discusses John Boorman’s attempts to make a Lord of the Rings movie back in the early 70s. Read about if you dare!

And on that forbidding note, we’ll leave you until next time. See you then.

PULP CATHOLICISM #032

THE B-LIST: 7 ALIEN RACES WHO WILL NEVER SPEAK LATIN

In the last edition of Pulp Catholicism we had a little fun with the idea of going to mass on alien planets where they most likely won’t be speaking English. Afterwards, the idea came up that maybe the language barrier with alien races could be sidestepped through the use of Latin, the universal language of the Church. Hey, it worked for centuries here on Earth right? But what if we happen to run into races who don’t really have the capacity to mimic human language at all? Assuming they don’t have any Babel Fish or other similar devices lying around, it seems like they would have to go with the Novus Ordo out of sheer necessity. So what would their masses be like if they turn out to be like some of the alien races we’ve already seen in the movies…

THE ALIENS from CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND

Though the little doughboys who show up in Steven Spielberg’s sci-fi classic seem to have some method of transmitting images into the minds of others, the only real communication that occurs between humans and aliens in the film is through the use of Solresol, an artificial language based on the seven-note diatonic scale developed in the 19th century by French musician Jean Francois Sudre. If you’re among those who feel  modern masses are already a bit lacking when it comes to moments of silence, just imagine the racket once all the toots and tweets required for these guys to communicate get going.

THE WOOKIES from STAR WARS

Yeah, yeah, the Wookies already have their own thing going with Life Day, but the Church is pretty good at getting converts, so a Wookie mass isn’t out of the question. They already have the robes and everything. And given their intelligence, the Wookies would probably have no trouble at all understanding Latin. Unfortunately, since Wookies basically communicate through barks and growls, there’s probably no way they could ever speak it. Still I’m sure it would be easy enough for a visitor to Kashyyyk to grab a missal, say the red, and do the black, even if the red did contain stuff like “Aarrragghuuhw huurh uuh.”

THE KELVIN from BATTLE BEYOND THE STARS

As many of you who attend crowded parishes already know, it can get kind of stuffy inside the Nave once the pews begin to fill up. So just imagine what it would feel like once the Kelvins, who communicate through varying degrees of heat, proceed in. I’d imagine it gets even worse when the homily is on Hell. (There are still homilies about Hell, right?)

THE PRAWNS from DISTRICT 9

Much like the aliens who showed up in the edition of Pulp Catholicism which inspired this post, the language of the insect-like Prawn pretty much consists of a bunch of clicking sounds. Some people on Earth seem to understand the Prawn’s tone and body language after a few years of dealing with them, and vice versa, but it’s doubtful the Prawn are going to be giving readings using Latin anytime soon. Also, you have to wonder if the Prawn would use incense as the smoke might just mellow them out a bit too much. There’s too many nodding heads during mass as it is.

THE MONSTERS from GHIDORAH: THE THREE HEADED MOBSTER

It was about this point in the Godzilla series that the monsters began to communicate with each other through a combination of shrieks and hand signals. Given those limited communication skills, the use of Latin on Monster Island appears unlikely, so visitors to Godzilla’s parish should expect the Novus Ordo. Also, an outdoor mass is probably a given.

THE WHEELERS from RETURN TO OZ

In a movie filled with creepy images, the Wheelers are among the creepiest. Plus, it doesn’t help things that they speak to each other in a language that sounds like Freddy Krueger dragging his nails over a blackboard. Probably a mass for fans of monster truck rallies only.

THE TESURUS from DOCTOR WHO AND THE CURSE OF FATAL DEATH

And finally, there’s the Tesurus. Although they never actually appear onscreen in the official BBC parody of Doctor Who produced for the Red Nose Day charity telethon in 1999, the presence of the Tesurus is definitely felt. Or perhaps smelt is a better word. You see, although they were one of the most advanced civilizations in the universe, the Tesurus became galactic pariahs due to their use of flatulence as their language of choice. You know, the Church doesn’t really endorse pew hopping, but I’m pretty sure the local bishop would be understanding if you passed on the Tesurus mass and went a little further down the street to the next parish.

 

So there you have it, 7 alien races who will never use the Latin mass. Now, of course, all this assumes that one day we might actually discover intelligent life out there somewhere, a notion many scientists are beginning to doubt. But wouldn’t it be a blast if we did, and that turned out to be one of the reasons for the whole Novus Ordo mass to begin with, so we would have something easier to spread to the stars. Never underestimate the cleverness of the Holy Spirit.

(UPDATE: As our resident Rocket Scientist so rightly reminded us, according to the documents of Vatican II, the official language for the Novus Ordo mass is still Latin. However, I would imagine most folks out there are like me and mentally picture the Novus Ordo with the vernacular, with the Latin being saved for the TLM. At least that's the story I'm sticking with for the sake of my punchline.)