This will be a bit of a change from the ordinary.  Today I am going to discuss two movies to see, and one book to avoid.

The first movie is Into Great Silence.  This is a German documentary about the Carthusian monks at the Grand Chartreuse abbey in the French Alps.   I love this from the movie’s website:  “In 1984, German filmmaker Philip Gröning wrote to the Carthusian order for permission to make a documentary about them. They said they would get back to him. Sixteen years later, they were ready.”  Clearly, the monks’ culture is different from ours.

I was eager to see this film (not eager enough to actually go to the theater when it came out in 2006, or to buy the DVD, but eager nonetheless).Yet, I found myself having to overcome an inner resistance to plopping down and watching over 2 hours of a film with no talking or narration.  This is the part of me eager for distraction, reluctant to look into the depths, the same part that finds a thousand excuses not to pray.  Luckily, I convinced that part to settle down and be quiet.

The film is beautiful.  It is respectful of the monks.  It is an appreciation, an exploration, a loving look at another way of being.  When I was studying philosophy at the seminary, I became interested in Martin Heidegger.  One of his insights is that, for example, a forester sees the world differently, or better perhaps, sees different aspects of the world, than does a townsman.  He talked about ‘guarding being’, preserving different perspectives on reality.  This movie endeavors to immerse us in the monastic experience, and thus to give us a glimpse of reality different, deeper and more penetrating, from our own.   As I watched, the silence gradually enfolds the viewer.  Tension eases, time expands, patience grows.  The camera lingers over a bowl of fruit on a wooden table like a still-life by an Old Master.  The stars trace their circular path across the sky in a time-lapse view of the mountains as seen from the monastery.  Birds sing. Snow melts.  Bells are rung.

I loved this film, and recommend it without reservation.  Be sure to watch the special features, too!  You won’t regret it.

The second film we saw this week was The Artist.  We saw this at the Hi-Pointe with a number of friends.  (Brief excursus:  The Hi-Pointe celebrates its 90^th anniversary this year.  It is an old-fashioned single (full) screen theater.  The popcorn is fresh, the concession prices are reasonable, and they even serve beer and wine!)  It was great knowing so many of the patrons—a real community event.

I had my reservations about this movie going in.  I knew it was a black and white silent film, and that it had won the Oscar for best picture just last Sunday.  But I am suspicious of popularity, especially of popularity among the Hollywood elite.  I was half-expecting some grim, artsy, life’s a bitch and then you die kind of movie.  Instead, I found an utterly charming story with a happy ending.  It begins in 1927 Hollywood.  George Valentin is a silent movie super-star, Peppy Miller a fresh-faced energetic young actress.  George resists the move to talkies, Peppy embraces it.  There is nothing surprising in the story, but it doesn’t come across as trite or shallow.  The lack of dialogue gives more emphasis to the visual.  Unsubtle symbolism abounds:  George meeting Pepper on the stairs, she going up, he going down; a disconsolate George walking down the street, a marquee in the background proclaiming “Lonely Star”.  It’s not subtle, but it works.  I thoroughly enjoyed this movie, and encourage you to see it if you haven’t already.

Now for the book.  Earlier this year I had read and enjoyed The Redbreast by Jo Nesbo (reviewed briefly here).  I grabbed a later work in the Harry Hole series called The Leopard.  After reading the first chapter, I stopped.  The voyeuristic description of the killing of a young woman was too disturbing.  I didn’t want to expose myself to any more of this.  It’s for the same reason I did not see the sequel to The Silence of the Lambs, or read any of the Hannibal Lecter books.  Dwelling on this kind of evil seems to me to invite darkness into our souls.  I’m not sure I can articulate how this is different from The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.  I’ve read his books, and seen the movie.  They are raw and certainly not pretty, but somehow they don’t have the same effect on me.  They don’t seem to linger over darkness in the same way.  I would recommend that you avoid this book.  Read The Redbreast instead.