13 Things I Love About Die Hard

1. Action movie Revival and Revolution. It’s not hyperbole to say this movie changed action movies forever. The 80s saw giant musclebound invincible mega stars indiscriminately killing off nameless bad guys in one ridiculous plot after another. And then, after this came out, we saw endless variations of the Die Hard format. “Die Hard on a ____” was an entire genre. A flawed, underdog hero overcomes insurmountable odds to defeat a brilliant villain in an isolated environment. Die Hard on a ship.  Die Hard on a bus. Die Hard on a mountain. They’re still using the formula. In 2011, The Raid: Redemption literally did Die Hard in a high rise building. If you’ll notice, that’s just Die Hard! But it was in Indonesia, and it was awesome, too!

Ironically, after Die Hard 2: Die Harder (great name) the Die Hard series moved away from its own formula. Die Hard With a Vengeance (3) is really good, and it brings back a Gruber, but the isolated environment…is New York City. Not really the same. We don’t talk about 4 and 5.

Many of the Die Hard imitators were good (Under Siege, Speed, Cliffhanger…all great!) because the format was so brilliant, but nothing really reached the level of the originator. Its greatness didn’t stop at the plot, it had all of the other factors that make a classic, too.

The action starts 10 minutes in and never lets up, and that’s a big reason it’s so much fun. But the character development is what differentiates this from the imitators, and in those first ten minutes, every moment and every line works to set up the rest of the movie perfectly, so that all of the action becomes meaningful and resonates on a human level. There’s no personal connection to Schwarzenegger in Commando or Predator, he’s barely human! Rocky started as an average guy, but by the 4^th one, he was a cartoon superhero. But John McClane is an everyman, an ordinary, hard working American, and every character in the film feels real. The scene where McClane and Takagi walk in on Ellis doing coke and then Holly comes in (“show him the watch!”) tells us so much about all those characters and the situation, and even foreshadows the finale (“I’m sure I’ll see it later”). That level of cohesion and depth of meaning between character and action is rare, and its why Die Hard remains the pinnacle of action cinema.

And I don’t know if it was the first movie I learned about c-4 explosives, but I do know that c-4 explosives were in every action movie after this. When I was 10 years old, I was sure I would die from a c-4 plastique explosion. What I’m saying is, Hollywood misled me about the preponderance of c-4 explosives.

2. Cop culture. The movie is not without its flaws, but they’re more a reflection of societal flaws than flaws with the movie itself. Die Hard explains a lot about how Americans view police, and while there is a lot of truth to its portrayal of cops and policing, it also served to reinforce very problematic views.  

The heroes of the movie are an NYPD officer and an LAPD officer. This is hardly the first or only movie with a cop as protagonist; in fact, there is an overwhelming amount of movies and shows featuring hero cops. Positive police propaganda in entertainment has helped produce a culture of hero worship towards law enforcement. The police are also on the receiving end of McClane’s ridicule, so that provides a nice balance at least. Unfortunately, the character of McClane promotes the idea of the super-effective “loose cannon”: the tough talking, rule bending cop who defies bureaucracy to get the job done when nobody else can. Rules and regulations are for chumps, the bosses and lawmakers don’t know what they’re doing, and if we just let good cops do what they gotta do, everything will work out!

There are so many police tropes in this movie. There’s the contempt for the bosses, the media, and especially for federal agents, who have jurisdiction over everybody and think they are so high and mighty, but really don’t have a clue. None of these things take away from the movie though, because it never feels generic or formulaic, everything feels true to life. A testament to the writing. The rapport of Special Agents Johnson and Johnson is hilarious. There’s also a sly critique of the Vietnam War. The older agent mentions Saigon when they are flying in the helicopter, and moments later, they get blown up because they got into a situation they didn’t really understand. Before they went in, one mentions that 25% of the civilians might die. The other responds, “I’m ok with that.” A look into the minds of the Deep State.  

And then of course, there’s Sergeant Al Powell. He’s a lovable cop who is smarter than his boss and wants to do the right thing. He’s a kindhearted, gentle soul who…wait, he killed a little kid? What the fuck, Al? Staying true to life, he was never arrested, or fired, or even suspended. But hey, he’s been punished severely, ok? He has to work at a desk! The horror! And he’s really torn up about what he did. The guy can’t even bring himself to shoot anyone else! If he can’t kill people, is he even a cop? He also kinda blames the kid for being out at night. Instead of feeling any sympathy for the kid or the kid’s family, we are asked—forced—to sympathize with this guy. The real tragedy is that a good cop is being unfairly punished!

In the end, when he shoots down the massive Austrian, it’s a powerful moment not only because he saved the day, but because he was able to shoot his gun again. He’s back baby! Fuck you, kid! That is Al’s character arc. He was sad after killing an innocent kid, he couldn’t do his job correctly (which obviously entails frequently firing a gun) but his friendship with another cop allowed him to kill again. Sweet.  

Ultimately, the movie’s view of Powell reflects how a lot of people view killer cops. It was an accident. He didn’t mean it. He’s a really good guy underneath it all, and he has a tough job. Can’t we forgive and forget? Well, yes, obviously. That’s exactly what happens, every time. The cop avoids any real accountability, we don’t ever think about the victim again, and the cycle continues. Sometimes I wish this movie wasn’t so damn good because that’s pretty fucked up!

3. Christmas theme. The big debate…that actually doesn’t matter one bit. That’s why it’s so fun! Honestly, who cares if it’s a “Christmas movie”? Watch whatever the hell you want, whenever you want. I call this a Christmas movie because I love Christmas, I love Die Hard, and I love watching Die Hard around Christmas. It’s simple. Also, Christmas is prevalent in the background of the film, it is a major part of the plot, and ultimately, the movie is about a husband and wife rekindling the fire of their marriage during the holiday season. It hits all the notes.

McClane is traveling to LA because he wants to be with his wife and kids on Christmas. He meets his wife at her office’s Christmas party. There are Christmas decorations everywhere, there’s a Santa suit in a pivotal scene, Christmas music plays throughout (the very first song of the movie is “Christmas in Hollis”) and of course, there’s a bearded Prussian man exclaiming, “Ho…Ho…Ho.” After the guy opens the safe, he exclaims, “Merry Christmas”. (The safecracker has a lot of great lines, especially when he narrates the security video of the police trying to get in the building.)

To end the movie, John says, “Merry Christmas, Argyle” as Let it Snow plays over the credits and the reunited couple happily kiss as they return home to their family. At every crucial juncture of the movie, Christmas is either directly mentioned or referenced in the background. That’s more than just a movie that takes place around Christmas, that is a full-fledged Christmas movie. Fa la la la la, motherfucker.  

4. Bromance/Romance. This is a real MAN movie, a modern day Western, but deep down…it is overflowing with romance. As I already stated, McClane’s entire motivation is to get back with his wife, and in the end, he drives off with his wife, happy. The sun rises over their limo as they kiss. Romantic as hell.

He has finally realized what is most important in the world, but he is only able to do so after forging a strong relationship with another guy. McClane opens up to Al about himself and his marriage, which brings them closer, and allows John to reflect on his failures as a husband. They also share the most powerful moment of unbridled bromance ever captured on film.

John and Al have great lines and chemistry every time they talk, but they are still essentially strangers. They have never really met. Their discussions are like Zoom calls; they can be very meaningful exchanges, but it’s just not the same as seeing your friends in person. Nothing can replace a Bro Hug. Then, when the evil has finally been defeated, and John knows that Holly is safe…they finally meet. The joy and the MAN love is palpable. I get goose bumps just thinking about it. The way they catch each other’s eyes from across the parking lot, and they just know. The head nods. The smiles. The relieved, almost delirious, laughter. The hug. It’s a beautiful thing. I’m not crying.  

5. It’s my Dad’s favorite movie. One of them at least. This is a highly personal reason for loving this movie, but it’s also connected to reason #4.

Most guys enjoy action movies, so it’s no surprise we both love the movie. Christmas is a big holiday for our family, and since this is clearly a Christmas movie, we tend to talk about it every year. So it reinforces our bond even more than Christmas itself does. We discussed it the other day, actually. I mentioned that Al Powell isn’t the great guy everyone thinks he is. He killed a kid! My dad said, “well, true…but maybe the kid deserved it? What was he doing out at night?” So if you ever wonder where I get my sense of humor, there you go.

Christmas is my mom’s favorite holiday, but she always loved It’s a Wonderful Life. I hate that movie. So while we share the love for Christmas and Santa and decorations and Christmas carols and turkey and each other, we don’t really connect on that one. To be fair, she loves Die Hard, too. Just not like my Dad and I.

A love between father and son, and males in general, is often unspoken. Few words are needed to express our feelings. So, when guys see Al and John meet at the end of the movie, and their love for each other is so deep it doesn’t need to be verbally expressed, we feel that in our souls. Women, I don’t know if you can relate, but it’s probably something like when you and your friends sync menstrual cycles. I’m guessing here. Sorry.

My father and I love each other, and we love this movie, a movie that exalts the beauty and values of male bonding, which reinforces our bond even more. Thank you, John McTiernan.  

My dad’s love for the movie also reinforces my view of him as John McClane. McClane isn’t a great father figure per se, so it’s not a direct comparison, but he is a symbol of masculinity that allows for faults, and even a modicum of sensitivity. He’s a flawed man, but he’s trying his best to do right. He is a modern day hero. He is my Dad. With more guns, and less hair.  

6. John McLane. The name is synonymous with badass, and its often used as a sarcastic remark directed at someone acting overly tough. “Oh, look at John McClane, over here.” “Relax, John McClane.” I think it took the place of Dirty Harry in that regard.  

It seems so obvious that this movie and this character were gonna be a huge hit, but that was not the case when it came out. Bruce Willis was a tv star, not a movie star, and at the time, there was a stigma against tv stars. If a movie star showed up in a tv show, his career was clearly going downhill, and it was rare for a tv star to make the direct jump to starring in movies. Willis was also far from the typical action star at the time. In 1988, the other top action movies featured Schwarzenegger, Stallone, Jean Claude Van Damme, and Steven Seagal. Seagal and Van Damme were “martial artists”, Schwarzenegger and Stallone were hulking, muscular killing machines. Those two actually turned down the role of McClane (The Simpson’s brilliantly depicted what it would have looked like if Arnold took the role with their “McBain” parody). Ironically, Stallone went on to later star in Die Hard on a Mountain (Cliffhanger).

So this slender, balding wiseass from tv was not predestined to be one of the biggest action stars on the planet. The character was also much different than the typical action hero. He was basically a blue collar worker, an average guy with an average build going through relationship problems, a noble but flawed hero who didn’t mow down all the bad guys at once; instead he stalked, cornered, and used his wits to take them down. And his guns and fists, sure, but in a way that made us feel we could do it, too. He got beat up almost as much as he beat them up. That is relatable. All this shit kept working against him, and he had to adapt and figure it out, instead of everything just working out for him,

Despite the image of the loose cannon hero cop which the movie helped solidify, it’s a great character. He gets easily frustrated at his wife, at the other cops, and even at the operator for not taking him seriously. “No fuckin shit lady does it sound like I’m ordering a pizza?!” He cracks solid jokes, not corny one-liners. Most of the time, the lines build off something else, they are far from Arnold quotes, just puns for the sake of puns. When he says, “yippee kay yay motherfucker,” it isn’t some random catchphrase he spouted off. It was a direct response to Hans calling him a cowboy, and it’s a phrase made popular by Roy Rogers, who McClane says he is partial to over John Wayne. It’s a great line on its own, and I’ve used it randomly many times, but there is important context that deepens the meaning and impact of the quote. That’s how this whole movie works; every part is great, and every part contributes to a whole, which is even greater.

7. Hans Gruber. Alan Rickman was an unknown actor, so the likelihood that this would be an iconic performance was smaller than the chances that Bruce Willis would become a movie star. Yet, in his first movie role, he became the best action movie villain of all time. The character. The performance. Every moment is his best moment. When he walks in and calmly tells the crowd to quiet down after his men shot the place up. When he tells Takagi it would be a shame to ruin his nice suit. The way he smirks when he says, “who said we were terrorists?” His accent when he pretends to be American. The way he says yippee ki yay madafucker. Even his death scene is perfect. “Happy trails, Hans.” Happy trails, indeed, Mr. Rickman.

8. Argyle. One of the greatest names in cinematic history. I’ve never seen or met an Argyle, but I know for certain that this man is an Argyle. He’s a comic relief sidekick that adds another level of depth to the story and to the character of John McClane. He is the first one to get John to open up about his marriage, ribbing him about his separation. He is also one of the earliest examples of the cool young black guy who gives the old conservative white guy street cred (he introduces McClane to Run DMC; how had he never heard Christmas in Hollis? He lives in New York!). Once Argyle finally realizes what’s going on in the building, he even takes out a bad guy. Of course, it had to be the one black bad guy, but that’s neither here nor there.

Most of all, he is a stand-in for the audience. For the majority of the movie, he is just listening to or watching the action. When McClane says over the walkie talkie, “I’m not the one who just got buttfucked on national tv!” the camera cuts to Argyle in the limousine clapping and laughing his ass off. Basically, we are all Argyle, cheering on John McClane; and if we had the chance, we would’ve taken a bad guy out, too! And yeah, it would have also hurt our fists!

9. Holly Genarro (not McClane). Holly is a strong, independent woman, and we know that because she switched back to her maiden name for the sake of her career. That one detail tells us everything we need to know about her and her situation with John. She is in love with him, and she eventually needs him to save her, but she’s not just some damsel in distress. That stereotype is successfully subverted because her character is as well developed as the hero’s. She is smart and strong willed (how else could she get away with that perm?) and she becomes the de facto leader of the hostages after Hans kills her boss. Although she is almost always talking to a man who has some kind of power over her, she is always in control, or at least, she never backs down. She’ll even punch a dude in the face if she has to (“did you get that?). In the end, she doesn’t sacrifice her integrity as an independent woman, but she does reunite with her husband. Because this is ultimately a romantic Christmas movie.

10. Ellis. “Hans…Bubby!” The best. Ellis is a perfect parody of the 80s hotshot cokehead finance guy. He’ll just talk the problem away, and he knows better than anyone else. Of course, his big mouth and ego get him in some shit he doesn’t understand, and he doesn’t have a chance against a guy who doesn’t fall for the fast talking salesman theatrics. Hans brilliantly uses his murder to sow distrust between the police and McClane. Ellis is left with a hole in his head, and his death leaves a hole in our hearts. Goodbye, sweet coke prince.

11. Small moments that add nothing to the plot. These are moments with no real deeper meaning that don’t really move the plot forward, they just build character, or add ambiance, or they’re just fun. A lot of movies/screenwriters think everything needs to be plot-driven (think of the scenes in Marvel movies that only exist to connect to a plot point from a different Marvel movie). Some writers/directors consider these moments a waste of time, a needless digression. But people don’t watch a movie just for its plot. We want to be entertained. Not everything needs to be important or even relevant. Al getting Twinkies at the store isn’t necessary, but it’s funny, and tells us a lot about Al without overtly explaining anything. There’s no exposition about what type of guy Al is, we know when we see him with an armful of Twinkies, claiming they’re for his wife. When John arrives in LA, he sees a hot girl in stretch pants running towards him, he gets excited, then she passes and hugs her body builder boyfriend. That isn’t important, but it’s funny, and it tells us a bit about McClane (he’s a typical, testosterone fueled guy). It also tells us about the setting, and how McClane feels in this environment, far away from NYC. Similarly, when he gets to the party, a guy kisses him and says Merry Christmas. McClane says to himself, “Fucking LA”. He’s a fish out of water, a conservative New York cop in swanky, liberal LA.

Then there’s the couple having sex in the office when the terrorists bust in. The woman runs out of the room topless. That’s just a treat for the audience. It also tells us what kind of party this is, just like when we see Ellis blowing a line of coke. The world of high finance, baby!  

12. Small moments that add a lot to the plot. Sometimes, seemingly random, throwaway lines and moments end up being vital. The movie opens with McClane on a plane. His neighbor gives him a secret for dealing with flight anxiety. When you get to your hotel, take off your shoes and socks, and make fists in the carpet with your bare feet. Besides the fact that this is actually a great stress reliever, it leads to a key plot point: McClane has to go barefoot through the building while hunting for terrorists. When Gruber finds out, he utters the infamous: “shoot the glass.” From that point on, McClane’s feet are absolutely destroyed and he has to spend half his time pulling out shards of glass and looking for shoes. That random statement from a random stranger has a major impact on the main character and story.

There’s also Holly’s watch. The first time we meet Ellis, he tells John about the Rolex Holly got as a bonus. John says, “I’m sure I’ll see it later”. Of course, he does see it later, when he unclasps it from Holly’s wrist and frees her from Gruber’s grip, sending Hans to his glorious death.

When the cops first decide to raid the building, one of the cops pricks his finger on a thorn bush. He gives a dramatic “ouch” and acts like he was stabbed or hit with shrapnel. Moments later, he and his entire team are taken out by Hans’ crew. The thorns should’ve been a sign that these cops were not ready or able to do the job they were about to do.

There are so many of these moments. Another one: when Holly puts the picture of her and John flat on the desk so Hans won’t see it. She knows he would use her against John, which is exactly what Hans does when he finds out who she is because of the reporter. That then leads to her cold cocking the reporter.

Is it bad that all of the major protagonists use violence to solve their problems? Whatever. The movie is too good to worry about the societal implications. Besides, that punch feels so good. Cinematic violence is fun, what can I say. How much better would It’s a Wonderful Life be if George Bailey punched Mr Potter in the face at the end? A lot better.  

13. Sound and music. Ever notice how loud the gunfire is in this movie? It’s another small detail, but it matters. At the very least, it made for an interesting behind the scenes story. When the guy is on top of the table shooting at McClane, and McClane is under the table shooting back, the director insisted on extra loud blanks for “extra realism.” It was so real, and extra, that Bruce Willis was left with permanent hearing damage in one of his ears. That is dedication.

To set the stage, Christmas music plays throughout the movie, and the melodies of several Christmas songs are referenced in the score. Certain notes and tones are used when the villains are on screen. When we first see him, Hans Gruber is humming “Ode to Joy” in the elevator before the siege. Ode to Joy then plays several times throughout the movie, in a very low tone, building to the full symphony when the vault is opened. That’s a level of synchronicity between story, character, and music that most movies never even attempt.

By the way, Ode to Joy is considered a Christmas carol in Japan. In what building do all the events of the movie take place? That's right. Nakatomi Plaza.

Die Hard just blew your mind. Hope you didn’t ruin your suit.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed. 

The Protector. Dr. Death. Dad.

My parents always loved to travel, and that greatly influenced my love for travel, as well as my entire perspective on life. The past 7 months--as a pandemic ravages the country and interstate travel has become difficult, never mind traveling to different countries--have only reminded me how important travel is to my life. The lack of it has left a massive hole. 

I realize that is a very privileged position, and I've always been grateful for my ability to travel. When I was 11 or 12 years old, my parents took my brother, myself, and our golden retriever Tuffy on a cross country trip in our black Chevy Astro van, with a pop-up camper trailing behind. Even as a kid, I knew this was a special experience. How many kids, or adults for that matter, get to see the majority of the country? We saw the amber waves of grain in the great plains of the Midwest, to the purple majesty of the mountains of the West, which really weren't that purple but were definitely majestic, and back through the Appalachians. It's truly a beautiful country, and the trip game me a perspective on it that not many people ever get. 

 

We stayed at my parents' friends some nights, and in our pop-up camper others. For a couple nights, we stayed in Yellowstone National Park. You don't get an appreciation for its size and beauty (majestic!) unless you see it in person. Of course, nature can be as dangerous as it is breathtakingly beautiful. Many other campers who were sleeping in tents hung food up in trees because there were more bears than usual that year. I was never happier for the hard plastic doors of our camper, even though a hungry Grizzly would have made light work of those, too. 

One afternoon, it was really hot, and we drove past a lake. There was a spot on the road where you could pull over and park, so we did. A man and woman were swimming in the lake. They left as we arrived, and I remember them saying, "the water is refreshing". Nothing more. 

When we parked, Tuffy ran out of the van and into the lake. He always loved to swim. My brother and I followed him in. The water at the edge of the lake was cool and clean, but there was a lot of undergrowth; thick weeds and long grass. After a few minutes. Tuffy got out of the water, and my dad spotted some dark spots on him. 

My dad called out to us, "Guys, you have to come in now." We walked out of the water, wondering what was wrong. Then I looked down. There were dark lumps all over my body. 

LEECHES!

Disgusting, slimy, blood sucking leeches! And they were all over me! There were a bunch on my torso, and I immediately thought about where else they might be. If you've seen Stand By Me, you know exactly where my mind was going. 

I just knew there was gonna be a giant leech right on my most sensitive and private of parts. Besides the horror of a disgusting slug clinging to my skin and stealing my precious life blood, I really didn't want my first sexual contact to be with a leech!   

I was almost immediately in shock. I didn't say a word, I just ran to the van, hoping someone would do something. My dad, sensing my growing inner hysteria, very calmly told me to get in the van. I couldn't bring myself to pull the leeches off. I didn't want to touch them (even though, technically I already was). I didn't know if they'd pull my skin off or leave a bruise or what. Maybe I'd pull them off and they'd be stuck to my fingers, then I'd try to pull them off with my other hand and that would get stuck too. It was probably the first instance of complete panic in my young life. 

So as I stood in the back of the van, freaking out and imagining these lake slugs getting fatter by the second as they slurped my blood, my dad gently but firmly pulled them off my skin. 

To this day, I can clearly hear the loud "Slurrrrrp...popppp!" as he pulled them off my skin. I absolutely made that up, but still, I can hear it. 

He started on my back, as I looked down to check my front. Sure enough, there was a big one right on my crotch...on the outside of my bathing suit. Phew. I could handle that. Just burn the bathing suit, no problem. I slowly pulled the front of my suit down and peeked inside.

Nothing. The panic started to subside. 

My dad pulled the rest of the slimy leeches off me. I don't know how long it took, probably no more than 30 seconds, but there was a range of changing emotions that I 'd never experienced. From happiness at swimming in a lake in one of the most beautiful areas on Earth, to terror at the thought of a permanent slug hickey on my penis, to complete relief when the last leech was pulled off and I hadn't passed out or been left with any scars. At least physically.

My dad's calming nature was all that got me through. As a kid, I was mostly calm and collected, but like any kid, I had outbursts of emotion every now and then. I had never really felt panic or that amount of fear before, though. If I had known how easy they came off, I probably wouldn't have been so scared, but that was the power of River Phoenix's acting I guess. The only reason I didn't really lose it was that I knew I was safe. I had a protector. 

I don't want to deify my dad. He's a person. He has faults. He gets frustrated. He makes mistakes. But none of that lessens him. It shows that all humans have the capacity for greatness. Nobody will be perfect at all times, but how you respond in difficult moments or situations defines your character. Many are unable or unwilling to step up in difficult situations and do difficult things, which makes those who are willing and able to do so that much more impressive. 

At one point, my family referred to my dad as Dr. Death. I know that seems counter to everything I just said, but it was name that reflected his compassion. Whenever a pet needed to be put down, the family called him. Putting down a beloved pet is one of the most difficult things to do, but when they have reached a point where there is no real quality of life, putting them down is the most merciful thing to do. That doesn't make it any easier. And it doesn't feel right letting a doctor or technician do it. As Candy in Of Mice and Men said about his dog, "I oughta shot that dog myself. I shouldn't a let no stranger shoot my dog." We should be with our pets in their last moments, sending them off to that big open field full of tennis balls and treats in the sky. Letting them go, freeing them from their pain, is an expression of love. But still...it's hard. And if it was too hard, call Ken. He can handle it, just like he handles any difficult situation: with love and compassion. 

I can think of no more difficult situation than what my parents have gone through in the past few years. My mom has Parkinson's, but my dad has suffered from it as well. He has watched the woman he loves, his wife of 52 years, deteriorate in front of his eyes. I still have trouble with that. It breaks my heart daily. We all get older and lose some of our functions and capabilities, so at some point we all watch the ones we love get older and deteriorate, but Parkinson's is not a natural deterioration. It is a vicious attack on the mind and body. She went from walking fine to needing a cane, then a walker, to permanently in a wheelchair in a matter of 4 years. After a scary incident that left her in a coma and led to a lengthy hospital stay 3 years ago, the disease has attacked her mind as well. Through all the shaking and pain and eventually the inability to walk, she had always been mentally sharp. Now, she has moments of clarity but she also has moments where she's lost in a delusion. Those moments are getting longer. 

She's confused a lot, which causes her stress, and her inability to do things physically only adds to the mental strain. It's an awful cycle that feeds on itself. She continues to fight, and she is an inspiration, but she couldn't do it alone. Just like I couldn't handle those leeches on my own. 

Parkinson's has proven to be much more harmful and tenacious than any leech, but my dad hasn't stopped trying to protect my mom from it, just as he protected me.

I don't need him to protect me anymore, but I do feel safer knowing he's there. Through his actions, he's always taught me that we do whatever it takes to protect those we love. 

Sometimes, when I see my friend's parents, many of whom are the same age as my parents, I get jealous and sad because they are enjoying their golden years. It's not fair that my parents don't get to travel around the world, relax at their beach house, visit their grandkids whenever they want. It's unfair that my dad has to be a fulltime nurse and can't go golfing whenever he wants. It's unfair that my mom can't go for a simple walk or spend a quiet evening reading a book. It's unfair that I can't have a conversation with her without her eventually getting confused or forgetful. 

But many people my age have lost a parent, or both. Many people have life threatening or life changing diseases. That's life, the most unfair game in town. The only game in town. Sometimes you live your life helping others and going to church and raising your kids the best you can, and you end up with a debilitating brain disorder anyways. Sometimes you go on an incredible vacation and jump in a beautiful lake on a sunny day and end up covered in disgusting leeches. 

If you're lucky, you have people in your life to help you pull them off. 

I've always had that, and I'm forever grateful. 

I Love You All...Class Dismissed. 

The Many Faces of Heroism

Superhero movies have become a dominant fixture of American culture in the past 20 years. As the world makes less and less sense, and as the dangers in the world take on more and more complex forms, we tend to look for simple solutions and heroes who can punch the evil away. Iron Man can defeat terrorists and aliens with his incredible technology! Captain America can defeat Nazis and aliens with his pure heart, incredible courage, and steroids! The Hulk can smash evil Norse gods and aliens with his bare hands! If only life were so simple. At least we don't have aliens. 

Instead, we have invisible viruses. We have degenerative diseases. We have systemic racism. And although our technology has reached an almost miraculous level, we haven’t found the solution to these problems, and no matter how much we hope for it, the Hulk isn’t coming to smash them away. 

In real life, heroism doesn’t look like The Avengers. Sure, sometimes a person does a heroic act like pulling a baby out of a burning building or taking down a mass shooter before he can kill more. But for the most part, in real life, heroic acts are smaller gestures that express the beauty and the intense goodness that exist within life all around us, coexisting with all the ugliness and negativity. Extending a helping hand, supporting a friend in need, speaking out for those with no voice, pushing on in the face of adversity. These heroic acts often aren’t considered heroic. Maybe they aren't equivalent to saving the entire planet from destruction, but they are real, human moments of heroism in the face of the most uncaring, inescapable, undefeated villain the real world has to offer: death.

Unfortunately, that villain got its sickly paws on Chadwick Boseman, who became a literal superhero, the Black Panther, and helped ignite a worldwide phenomenon. All while battling colon cancer. It is almost inconceivable to think of what he accomplished after getting the diagnosis, receiving chemo treatments, and ultimately knowing he would soon die. 

It’s honestly so inconceivable that it moves beyond inspirational. Nobody should feel like they need to accomplish so much while going through something like that. It's ok to rest! The fact that he did what he did is commendable and amazing, but too often we use the unique, incredible accomplishments of one person to shame others. If he was the Black Panther and made Avengers Infinity War and End Game and did all the red carpet appearances and interviews and met with sick kids and loved his family and gave black people around the world a moment of happiness and gave black children representation in an area where it was severely lacking, all while fighting cancer...HOW DARE YOU TAKE A DAY OFF FROM WORK BECAUSE YOU’VE GOT THE SNIFFLES! How dare you feel sorry for yourself even for one second just because you have a disease or disability! 

As a culture and society, we feel pressure to not only praise this great man for doing great things in the face of adversity, we have to use his death as a lesson. We often call people living with deadly diseases "heroes," and rightly so, but sometimes it seems like that we do it just to make ourselves feel better. To ease our own fears. We don’t want cancer, so someone who has it and perseveres is a hero. But we don’t truly consider what that means or what that person is actually going through. They're not even their own person anymore, they become a character in a story. They’re not a regular person with everyday issues and fears: they are CANCER WARRIORS! 

There is good intent behind this characterization. People fighting cancer are fighting a heroic battle, to save their very lives. They should be praised. But this characterization can dehumanize people, or glorify people at the expense of others. This person won his battle against cancer! Well, this other person lost his battle against cancer. Does that mean one was stronger than the other? Did one simply fight harder? Maybe both fought equally as hard, but one had better treatment. Maybe the one who died actually fought harder. Maybe it was all just pure, shitty luck. 

Chadwick Boseman didn't "lose" a battle against cancer. He died from a horrible disease. And before that, he lived as well as he could. But not everyone can do what Chadwick Boseman did--embody the literal role of a superhero and inspire millions of people across the globe while fighting cancer--and they shouldn't feel bad about it. Courage looks different on each person depending on their circumstances. Heroism looks different on different people. For some people, simply getting out of the house is heroic. 

Recently, my mom went into the hospital. She’s been in and out (mostly out, thankfully) for the past 2.5 years. Parkinson's and Parkinson's related dementia has taken its toll on her (and us) but once again, it has not broken her. After being in there for about a week, with no visitors allowed, she came home and was ready to live. It was her 75th birthday a few days after she got home, and she insisted on going out to eat. Every time she has gotten out of the hospital, she has wanted to go out soon after. She is more willing and less hesitant than me. I can't help thinking of everything that can go wrong, whether it’s a good idea, what about Covid or this or that…but she's adamant. She wants to go out. So we put our masks on and ate on an outside patio.

Through it all, she hasn’t given up on life. There are probably moments when she wants to. Just like in the superhero movies, there's always a moment when the hero is ready to call it quits. They are defeated. They are exhausted. Batman retires and hangs up the cape. The Black Panther gets tossed over a cliff and falls into a coma.

There are moments when we all want to give up. And some people do. That's not a sign of weakness. There's only so much pain and anguish one can bear. Honestly, sometimes giving up is a rational response. 

And that’s exactly why not giving up is so heroic. Life is fucking hard! Those who keep going in the face of adversity and death are so admirable because it's not a logical, rational response. You're going to die anyways, why fight it? 

Because what else is there? Life is fighting death. That’s the whole thing! 

In Boseman's situation, a rational response to finding out he had colon cancer would have been to stop working. Stop visiting sick kids. Stop doing talk shows and meeting fans. At the very least, tell people why you’re losing weight and looking frail so you don't get attacked on social media! Instead, he just took it all upon himself. He didn’t want people feeling sorry for him, or just didn’t want the parasitic entertainment industry sucking his life dry for “heartwarming” interviews. Maybe he was just a private person, but I truly think he understood that he had become a symbol, and he wanted to represent a sense of power and nobility and grace, and joy, without the element of pity. 

People thought he looked tired doing the Wakanda Forever pose for everyone who requested it, but maybe that was the only thing keeping him going. 

He didn’t ask for pity or praise for dealing with his sickness. My mom never has, either. (My dad hasn't either, for that matter, and what he does on the daily basis is heroic, too.) All she wants is to feel normal. To live her life without the crushing weight of her disease, even for a few moments. 

So she asked us to take her out to dinner.

And yes, in the face of Parkinson’s and dementia and Covid, that is heroic as hell. 

I Love You All...Class Dismissed. 

13 Things I Love about There Will Be Blood

1. Daniel Day Lewis, duh. Somehow he topped his performance from Gangs of New York. This is what they call a “powerhouse” performance. One for the ages. What a beast. His character, Daniel Plainview, is an absolute monster. It’s amazing to watch but he is a legendary asshole. He is a hard man living a hard life. In the opening scene, he is looking for gold and silver by himself in a deep mine. A hole, really. Since this was long before safety requirements, he falls down the hole and breaks his leg. When he wakes up, he has to pull himself up on a rope. It’s an excruciating few minutes. That’s our introduction to him: a man willing to risk life and limb for his business. For the rest of the movie, he has an awkward limp, which makes him somehow even more intimidating.

2. For me, this will always be connected to No Country for Old Men. They came out the same year and competed for a bunch of awards. More than that, I watched them within a week of each other, and they have a similar feel. They take place out West, the central focus is a powerful, terrifying, villainous character portrayed by an incredible actor, they are directed by legends, and they both share a dark, world-weary tone. I was a little upset that No Country won the Oscar for best movie, best Director and best Screenplay, but I probably would have been upset if this won and that lost. Both movies deserved all those awards. Daniel Day Lewis got best actor so they got that right no question. Regardless, these are two great movies to have mentally connected.

3. Intensity. Obviously, Daniel Day Lewis is intense. He’s a stone man made of pure fury. But it’s more than just his performance. It’s a good story and cool, sometimes even shocking things happen, but it’s not exactly an action movie. It’s also long. And yet, every moment is riveting. Between Daniel breaking his leg in the opening, and when the pipe lands on the guy’s head with a sickening thud, there’s a sense of impending doom that doesn’t ever leave your gut. Every element of the movie comes together in unison to create a sense of urgency. The constant, almost piercing music, the cinematography, the realistically portrayed dangers of the job, Daniel’s performance, all combine for a mesmerizing work of art.

4. Cinematography. This deserves a big screen viewing. It’s a beautiful film about rugged men doing dirty work. There are extended shots of the landscape, with the beautiful mountains and plains of early 20th century California, interrupted only by newly built oil wells. The shots inside the wells are great as well (ha). They are claustrophobic and dark as opposed to the shots of the open landscape. Everything looks crystal clear and sharp and feels authentic. It is a perfectly crafted visual world that sets the foundation for Daniel Day Lewis to do his thing and helps draw the audience in to the characters and story. Like any great movie, the camera transports the viewers to the time and place depicted in the story.

5. Music and sound. Tense music plays almost throughout the whole move. It’s just constant, eerie, high pitched strings, all the time. He’ll be drilling for oil or making a business deal or getting off the train, and you’re on the edge of your seat because the music is a continuous crescendo, serving to heighten the true danger and insidiousness of it all. Because it’s the oil business; it was and is incredibly insidious.
Sound is a really important and cool element of the film, too. The sound of the oil pump. The train’s whistle. The men screaming. Daniel and Eli’s booming voices. Wind on the plain. Then there’s the lack of sound after the boy’s accident. Again, it all works to put the audience in the characters’ shoes. The kid can’t hear, so for a few moments we can’t hear, either. Then, when we can hear again, the sounds are intensified.

6. Fatherhood. The relationship between Daniel and the child, HW, is the heart of the movie. That’s why the ending feels like ripping out a beating heart.
After a man dies when a machine part falls on his head—because again, this was early 20th century—Daniel adopts the man’s infant son. He was in the well with the guy at the time of his death, and it was his well, so he likely feels guilty. At this point, he seems to still have feelings for other humans and genuinely cares for the kid. However, whether or not it was always his intent from the beginning, he essentially uses HW to grow his company. The “family man” angle helps him close deals.
After HW goes deaf, the relationship between him and Daniel starts to fray. Daniel doesn’t have time to learn sign language and teach HW, which frustrates and angers the boy. The budding relationship between Daniel and his “brother” Henry doesn’t help, either. One night, HW lights a fire in their cabin as Daniel and Henry sleep. Daniel wakes up and chases him. The lighting of the fire, Daniel chasing HW, and then carrying him back to the cabin, is all done in essentially one long tracking shot, and I can’t stress enough how much that contributes to the intensity of the film. Daniel then sends HW away to a school for the deaf. He can’t take care of him and run the business efficiently. He never admits it, but this affects him greatly.
At the end of the movie, it is sixteen years later in 1927, and HW is getting married to his childhood friend, Mary. HW visits Daniel’s office and tells him they’re moving to Mexico. HW wants to open his own oil company. Daniel gets angry and tells him that he has become competition. He calls HW a “bastard from a basket” and mockingly explains his true origins. It is cruel. It is brutal and heartbreaking, and it completes Daniel’s evolution into full villain. Once HW leaves, Daniel gets fall down drunk and flashes back to all the times they shared. He is clearly distraught. He chased away the one person that loved him.
There’s also the relationship between Eli and his father. Eli has contempt for his father for “selling out” to Daniel (even though that’s literally what Eli did). After Daniel beats Eli, Eli beats his father. But we can’t feel too bad for the father, because it was revealed earlier that he beat Mary, Eli’s sister and HW’s eventual wife. At one point, Daniel threatens the man if he continues. After that, Mary clearly looks to Daniel as a father figure, which makes his attack on HW at the end even more heartbreaking.

7. Brotherhood. This is another one of the several themes in the film, and it is manifested in two sets of people, yet only three actors. Paul Dano plays twin brothers, Paul and Eli. The brothers clearly don’t care much for each other and they are never seen together (which also leads to some mystery about whether Paul really exists. He does). Paul goes to Daniel to propose an offer for his family’s land, which he claims has oil under it. They make a deal and Daniel heads to the land with HW. They meet Paul’s father and twin brother, Eli, who knows what they’re up to and wants in on the profits. Ultimately, Eli wants funding for the church he’s starting. Later, Daniel uses Eli’s frayed relationship with his brother against him to insult him further.
About midway through the movie, a man claiming to be Daniel’s half-brother (brother from another mother) Henry shows up. Daniel doesn’t trust him at first but eventually they get close, which hurts HW’s feelings. When Daniel sends HW away, Daniel and Henry start running the business together, and Daniel even opens up to his brother a bit. He says, “I see the worst in people. I can’t keep doing this on my own with these ...people” and then gives this sinister laugh. Daniel is even scarier when he’s in touch with his feelings.
Ironically, Daniel didn’t see the worst in Henry and regrets it later. Actually, Henry regrets it because Daniel can’t forgive the dishonesty and murders him. Daniel is not his fake brother’s keeper.

8. The intersection of Capitalism and Religion and the evils of both. This takes place during the Industrial Revolution and we see the cutthroat nature of the oil and railroad industries. The business men are in nice suits and talk in polite, civil tones, but they are still evil. Daniel is just more honest and open with his ruthlessness. He accuses Standard Oil of owning the railroads, and he’s not wrong. Far from the benevolent “job creators” that these “captains of industry” are generally portrayed to be, they are ruthless businessmen who don’t care about their workers or the common man. They are monopolizing two industries, both of which are literally deadly. Rail workers didn’t exactly get insurance. And oil workers had it worse. Daniel breaks his leg. 2 guys die. HW goes deaf. The oil industry involves lots of machinery and lots of big holes with lots of bad things happening in them. Capitalism is portrayed as the brutal, uncaring system it is.
Religion doesn’t come off much better. We see how the two intersect to maintain a system of inequity. Daniel is incredibly (and hilariously) uncomfortable with religion. At certain points, he’s amused by it, other times he’s disgusted by it. He has open contempt for Eli and it is great. However, even before Eli opens his church, Daniel sees the benefit of placating the religious. Wherever he drills, he donates to or helps build churches for the towns. He understands the sense of community it builds and that it keeps the workers happy. On the other side, the churches need the oil money to build and to stay open. When Daniel starts drilling near Eli’s family’s land, they build a temporary tent city near the new oil derricks. Eli tries to and successfully converts the oil workers. Later, Daniel has to concede power and stature to Eli and the church to get what he wants for his business. And of course, Eli then humiliates himself to try to get money for his church from Daniel. Whether it’s in the name of Business or the name of God, the ethics involved are the same: Anything for a buck.

9. Direction. I’m a huge PT Anderson fan. Boogie Nights is classic. Magnolia is one of my favorite movies and one which I can honestly apply the phrase “It changed my life.”
There are like ten scenes in this movie. There are no jump cuts to catch our attention, there are mostly long, uninterrupted tracking shots. We get one continuous perspective of the scene, and that makes the audience feel a part of the action. We see things unfolding as if we are there watching it. Also, the pacing is perfect. There is absolutely no filler. Everything is vital to the story or to character development. There are long, important conversations, followed by quick, brief action sequences, then silent moments focused on something subtle, like the intensity of Daniel’s face. It all serves to keep our attention without any gimmicks.
There are so many powerful, perfectly crafted scenes. One of my favorites is when HW loses his hearing. One of Daniel’s wells strikes oil, and it shoots up violently into the sky. HW is standing on the derrick and gets blasted by the force. The oil is shooting up uncontrollably and it catches fire, so there’s a giant column of oil and fire and smoke, while HW lays almost unconscious near it. This crazy, trippy music starts, as one of the workers rushes to tell Daniel what happened. He starts running toward the derrick, and the camera runs parallel to him. It’s a long, beautiful shot of him running; it’s daytime and the Southern California scenery is moving behind him as he remains in the center of the camera. We see all the other workers frantically running behind him, too. Daniel finally reaches the derrick. HW is deaf. Daniel grabs him, brings him down, and runs all the way back to his cabin with HW in his arms. He sets the boy down and gets back to work. He runs back to the derricks. He starts chopping down the cords that prop up the wooden beams. The men are at work for hours, and the background turns from sunny day to dark night. The fire lights up the pitch black sky as the men continue to fight it. When the derrick falls and they finally contain it, Daniel lets out a smile. They just struck it rich. One of his coworkers asks if the boy will be all right. “No, no he will not,” replies Daniel, stone faced. It’s a big, beautiful, elaborate, emotional, intense scene, and it’s fucking amazing.
In another scene, PT Anderson shows how important subtlety and imagery is to telling a powerful story. After HW is sent away, and after Daniel spends some alone time with his “brother,” he starts contemplating his situation. He is at the beach with Henry. We see them enjoying the clear blue water. Then the camera focuses on Daniel. He is floating in the ocean, we see his head above the water, and his body below the water. He is divided, conflicted. Again, this loud, suspenseful music plays. His dark eyes and his mouth and the distorted view of him and the music make it all feel so sinister. This is supposed to be a celebration! They just made a huge sale! But Daniel isn’t exactly a celebratory kinda guy. He’s also suspicious of Henry because his story is not adding up. After the relaxing day at the beach, Henry wakes up to Daniel with a gun in his face. He knows Henry is not really his brother. He confronts him and finally gets the truth. It seems like he’s contemplating his options, but Daniel goes with the only solution he ever really considered: he shoots him and buries him. Cue the orchestral strings.

10. Subtlety. In addition to Anderson’s expertise and ability to balance the subtle with the elaborate, the actors have the same ability. Before Daniel opens the new oil derrick on Eli’s family’s land, Eli asks to address the people and bless the derrick. Daniel initially agrees, but only to get the deal done and get Eli out of his face. At the opening, Daniel addresses the crowd, and then calls up Eli’s sister, little Mary, to help him bless the derrick. Eli looks on in silent rage. Daniel doesn’t even acknowledge him but he knows exactly what he’s doing. Later, another oil worker dies when a machine part falls on his head (no subtlety there). Eli then visits Daniel and mentions that the guy might not have died if Daniel let him do the blessing. Eli is now subtly jabbing Daniel for his actions, playing on his guilt.
There’s also one scene where Daniel is talking to guys from Standard Oil. He brags about the 3 wells he has, and the way he holds up his 3 fingers and says, “3” is just so perfect and hilarious and menacing. There are so many small moments like that.

11. Over the top ridiculousness. That sounds negative, but I mean it in the best way. When he’s not making small gestures loaded with meaning, Daniel is losing his shit. Honestly, Daniel Day Lewis probably does the best job of mixing subtle with over the top acting that I’ve ever seen. He yells and rages better than anyone, and he also expresses an entire spectrum of emotion with just one eye brow better than anyone. Paul Dano is no slouch, either. Working opposite Daniel could not have been easy, especially for such a young actor. He plays Eli as a mostly sniveling little weasel, albeit one who stands up to Daniel occasionally, but he also breaks into these fiery sermons. He is Pat Robertson on meth. Both he and Daniel have numerous memorable lines, some of which are utterly ridiculous on the face of it, but with their masterful deliveries, the ridiculous lines work. When Eli is preaching, he starts screaming and shaking and sliding around the church. He is screaming at the devil, saying “as long as I have teeth, I will bite you! And if I have no teeth, I will gum you!” What? That’s objectively absurd, but it is meant to show how absurd Eli is, and it succeeds. Anyone in their right mind would not take this guy seriously, and only Daniel seems to understand that. Of course, Daniel has his own ridiculous streak. When he breaks the unfortunate news to Eli that the oil Eli thinks will make him rich is gone, he utters the infamous line, “I drink your milkshake. I drink it up!” It’s silly and ridiculous, but Daniel gives this elaborate production explaining drilling techniques to Eli that really sells the line and turns it into a cruel taunt. The line makes no sense outside of this particular scene, and yet it became a common phrase, splashed across t-shirts and referenced in pop culture endlessly. That’s a damn good line. Even though it’s ridiculous. Or because it’s ridiculous? Either way, it doesn’t matter. It sticks with you, largely because of Daniel’s delivery.

12. Insults. Daniel is a piece of shit, but man, he has the best insults. After HW’s accident and the other oil worker’s death, Eli publicly confronts Daniel about money owed to him. Daniel bitch slaps the shit out of him and knock him to the ground. Then he pulls him by the hair through the mud. Eli is screaming the whole time. Daniel pins him down and sits on his chest. “Can’t you make my son hear again? Aren’t you a healer.” He keeps slapping him. Then he fills Eli’s mouth with mud and tells him, “I’m gonna bury you underground Eli. I’m gonna bury you underground.” I hate to cheer for a bully, but it’s fantastic.
When he is at a business meeting, Standard Oil offers to buy him out. They tell him they’ll make him a millionaire. He asks, “What would I do with myself?” And one replies, “Take care of your son?” That doesn’t go over well. They mention his boy a couple other times, and he’s not having it. This is right after he sent HW away, so he’s a little sensitive. He says, “Did you just tell me how to run my family?” Then he casually tells the guy, “One night, I'm gonna come to you, inside of your house, wherever you're sleeping, and I'm gonna cut your throat.” Jesus.
After HW comes back, Daniel takes him to lunch and runs into the same guy from Standard Oil. He puts a napkin over his face so HW doesn’t know what he’s saying (or because he’s insane) and starts yelling at the guy, bragging about a deal he just made. Then he walks over to the table and asks the guy if he sees his son. “I’m taking care of him now so…you look like a fool, don’t you?” The guy seems to not really know what the hell is going on, but he knows he’s getting chumped. He replies, “Yes.” Daniel excuses himself, drinks the guy’s whiskey, and walks away. Mic drop.
But the absolute best insults are saved for Eli. The bitch slapping scene is great, but the final scene is the stuff legends are made of. Besides the “milkshake” line, every line in the scene is perfect. After getting Eli to humiliate himself, he twists the knife. He tells him, “Your brother was the real prophet” because Paul was the one that first came to Daniel. He says, “you’re just the afterbirth, Eli.” Damn! “You slithered out of your mother’s filth. They should have put you in a glass jar on a mantelpiece.” Fuck! “Where were you when Paul was suckling at his mother's teat? Where were you? Who was nursing you, poor Eli? One of Bandy's sows?” Shit! Just devastating. Then he explains that he has already taken the oil. “Drainage! Drainage, Eli, you boy.” The only thing Daniel is better at than running an oil company and ruining his own personal life is ruining Eli’s life.

13. Parallelism. The themes of brotherhood and fatherhood are paralleled between characters. The themes of capitalism and religion parallel each other. And more specifically, two of the best scenes parallel each other in many ways. They are incredible scenes on their own, but the combination….*chef’s kiss*.
After Daniel kills and buries Henry, he wakes up to see William Bandy, the owner of the one piece of land he hadn’t purchased yet. Daniel wants to build a pipeline through his land. Bandy agrees, if Daniel agrees to be baptized.
Of course, it’s Eli that will baptize him. Eli savors the opportunity and puts on a big show. He really gets into it because he knows Daniel hates it. Eli has finally won. He calls Daniel a sinner. He tells him to get on his knees and accept Jesus. Daniel reluctantly does everything he is told. It’s a really special scene, with two actors at their best. It’s a beautifully shot scene, too. The clean, almost shiny wood of the pews and the bright white background frame the action. Eli tells Daniel to repeat everything he says, and Daniel does, but when he gets to “I have abandoned my child,” it’s too much. Daniel pauses and stutters, but he says it. Again and again, until it feels as if Daniel is no longer just placating Eli. He feels intense guilt for sending HW away. He yells out “I am a sinner. I want the blood…I’ve abandoned my child.” As Eli delays the baptism, drawing out the discomfort, Daniel gets impatient. “Give me the blood lord,” he snaps. Eli slaps him across the face. Daniel smirks and asks for more. The scene is out of control. The holy spirit has taken the wheel. The priest pours water over Daniel. He smirks and mutters, “There’s a pipeline.” Anything. For. A. Buck. He stands and shakes Eli’s hand, staring him down. He walks back to his pew and the whole crowd loves him. Little Mary runs over and hugs him.
Sixteen years later, after Daniel has built an empire but destroyed his relationship with his son, he is passed out in his own bowling alley. It is a similar setting as the church, with the clean, shiny wood of the lanes and the white walls framing the action. He wakes up to find Eli, who tells him that Mr Bandy is dead, and Eli has the rights to his property. Bandy’s son and Eli want Daniel to drill the land for them. Daniel says he’ll do it if Eli admits he’s a false prophet and that god is a superstition. Eli is disgusted by the suggestion but quickly gives in for a shot at making some money because he’s in serious debt. Daniel makes him say it over and over. He tells Eli to say it like one of his sermons. Put his heart into it. After Eli really lets it rip and denounces his life’s work and entire belief system, Daniel tells him the land is worthless because he already took the oil underneath it. He drank Eli’s milkshake. He drank it up! Daniel has proven the fraudulent nature of religion and the dominance of cutthroat capitalism. Eli is defeated, but it’s not good enough for Daniel. He throws bowling balls and pins at Eli and chases him around, eventually “baptizing” him on the head with a pin. He wins again. Capitalism wins. But at what cost? Religion may be a fraud, but what does capitalism offer instead? Death, destruction, the obliteration of family, loneliness.
The butler calls out, “Mr. Daniel?” And Daniel, sitting on the floor next to the body of the man he just murdered, replies, “I’m finished.” Classic closing line to a classic movie.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.

13 Things I Love about Elf

1. It’s the greatest Christmas movie of the 21st Century. One of the few original, modern day Christmas legends.

2. Buddy the Elf. Most people love him but do we really appreciate the unique sensation that is Buddy the MFing Elf? Think about it; this created a whole new Christmas character and mythos. It’s like the 21st Century equivalent of creating Rudolph or the Grinch or Frosty the Snowman. It hadn’t happened since, what? The Nightmare Before Christmas with Jack Skellington? Most new Christmas movies are just rehashes of older classics (Christmas Carol/Grinch) or basic “families spending time together and finding the meaning of Christmas” movies. Elf is a modern fairy tale. There are Buddy the Elf dolls and costumes. There’s an Elf musical. There’s no Fred Claus musical. Love Actually doesn’t have a children’s book. Bad Santa isn’t even a new character, he’s just a typical mall Santa with a slightly worse alcohol problem (plus Bad Santa sucks after the first viewing). Buddy the Elf is a phenomenon, a milestone of 21st Century pop culture, a newly created icon that people of all ages and races can and will enjoy for holiday seasons to come.

3. Will Ferrell. Ferrell’s awkward sincerity is perfect for the role and it’s in its most perfect form here. Ferrell is very hit or miss. When he’s on, and when his character and the story are well developed, he is one of the funniest people in the world. And then there are movies like Bewitched or Sherlock and Watson. This character was seemingly made directly from the best of his DNA and he completely engulfs the role. When the boss at the department store says that Santa is coming and he yells out, “Santa!! I know him!” it is so pure and genuine it could make a stone smile. It’s so silly (kinda stupid, even) but he is so sincere and the character is made of such pure happiness and joy, that it all comes together to create a sense of childlike whimsy.

4. Whimsy. The best word to describe the movie is whimsical. And it’s the best part about the movie. It is very silly. It is very clever, with sharp line after sharper line. The dialogue, the characters, the scenes, everything is memorable in the best ways. But more than anything, every moment in the film is filled with the intent of bringing joy. It’s truly like watching a movie in a sea of swirly twirly gum drops. Elf, the character and the movie, just want to make everybody happy. That is their entire purpose, and they knock it out of the candy cane forest.

5. Heartwarming. Like any good Christmas movie, it makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. There are heartwarming moments between Buddy and his two father figures, heartwarming scenes between Buddy and the kid, between James Caan and the kid, between Buddy and Zooey, even between Buddy and Mr. Narwhal.

6. Mr. Narwhal. The Penguin. Leon the Snowman. Such great characters and they only appear for a few minutes. But that opening scene is so important in setting that whimsical tone. Every moment, every character, is intentionally fun and quirky.

7. Scenery and costumes. Right off we’re not supposed to take anything too seriously. Even the credits sequence is silly. We are in the North Pole, but it’s clearly a set and there are what look like cut out paper snowflakes falling. It feels like the inside of a snow globe. Then we see a Jazz Snowman and other cartoon characters. It’s like Elf was born from the classic Christmas cartoon specials of the 60s, but then he travels to the real world and grows up to be a real human. He’s a Christmas Pinocchio. The Elf house at the North Pole is great, too, all the grey wood makes all the elves’ colorful costumes pop. Then Buddy creates his own Winter Wonderland at home and the department store. Again, that’s the whole movie: Will Ferrell making everything more fun and carefree.

8. Music. The soundtrack is great, so many Christmas bangers, but more than that, music is a main element of the story. It’s how Buddy introduces himself to his biological dad (a singing telegram). It’s how he gets closer with Zooey (Baby It’s Cold Outside duet in the bathroom). And of course it’s a mantra of Santa’s elves: “The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.” Such a great line and ethos, and I love how they connect back to it at the climax with Zooey leading everybody singing in the street. It also shows that sometimes you gotta force the Christmas Spirit. Maybe you're not feeling it. Maybe stuff has got you down. But the beauty of this time of year is that we as a society, for many many years, have forced the joy upon each other. Get people gifts. Visit family and friends. Sing songs. Listen to joyful songs endlessly, maybe even too much. Humans have known since we have existed that this time of year needs some respite and forced joy or we wont make it through. And if you do force it, it starts to become natural. Like how forcing a smile leads to a real smile.

9. References to Other Classics. The first and most obvious is the original Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. The opening scenes in the North Pole are a direct ode to that movie and that style of animation. There are the elves (one who feels out of place) and Santa’s workshop and the talking snowman and the singing woodland creatures. It’s a tribute to the classic but it also enhances the fish out of water aspect. When Buddy gets to Central Park and tries to pet the raccoon, he (and we) realize these aren’t the same woodland creatures from the North Pole. Then there are the references to Miracle on 34th Street. The main reference is that he works at Gimbels, Macy’s main competition in Miracle (the fact that a main setting is a department store is a reference in itself. Then there’s the mail room scene. Buddy makes friends with all the workers, which eventually makes him closer with his dad, and Kris Kringle is saved by the mailroom workers in Miracle. When Buddy cuts all the snowflakes it looks like Edward Scissorhands (another great Christmas movie). Then there’s the scene of Buddy on the bridge feeling dejected, a clear reference to the godawful It’s a Wonderful Life. Lastly, and the only knock against the movie, is the similarity to The Santa Clause. The ending of Elf, with Santa in his sleigh getting chased through a park and relying on people’s belief in him to fly, is a lot like the ending in the original The Santa Clause (a good Christmas movie). It’s fine, and it works for Elf, but…watch both and tell me they’re not extremely similar.

10. Lines. Brilliant, hilarious lines from everyone at all times. I could just copy the whole script to show all the great lines. Even little random bits of dialogue, like when they are talking about children’s book ideas. One guy suggests, "a tribe of asparagus children, but they're self-conscious about the way their pee smells." That is objectively hilarious, and it’s just a random throwaway line. Yet, it also connects to a later scene, when Dinklage is rejecting story ideas: “tomatoes are too vulnerable”. What seem like throwaway jokes actually work together to create a unified vision of absurdity and comedy. Like the running joke that Buddy loves syrup; that’s hilarious on its own, but then the guy in the mailroom sneaks “syrup” into his coffee and gets Buddy drunk for the first time. That is funny on its own as well, but it means more because of the running joke about syrup, and it also leads directly to the conflict and eventual resolution with his dad. Absolutely brilliant.

11. Supporting Cast. Everyone kills it. Everyone. And after multiple viewings, you catch little expressions or idiosyncrasies that fill every scene with humor. The lines are brilliant on their own, but they wouldn’t be as memorable without the timing and delivery of Zooey Deschanel and James Caan and Mary Steenbergen and Bob Newhart and friggin Ed Asner and Peter friggin Dinklage. Even Artie Lange is great as the “beef and cheese” Santa. No matter the length of the role, everyone gives a standout performance. And the kid from A Christmas Story is one of the elves at the Workshop. That’s cool.

12. Writing. Besides the killer lines and almost perfect script, writing is a main element of the story, which I always appreciate. Buddy’s dad is a publisher, who doesn’t really care if kids’ books contain the last few pages as long as they pay for them. He is trying to come up with a story before Christmas to save the company. Buddy ends up becoming the story and saving the day. And then, in an example of life copying fiction, a real children’s book was made about Buddy the Elf.

13. Directing. This was Jon Favreau’s second movie. Not bad for Monica’s boyfriend who wanted to fight in the UFC. This movie was so good they let him direct Iron Man even though the only other movie he had directed was Zathura. I can’t give Will Ferrell all the credit for the whimsical nature of the movie. From the decision to have cartoons in the beginning, to the musical choices, to the pacing and everything else a director oversees, this succeeds on literally every level.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.

13 Things I Love about The Shining

1. Cinematography. From the opening shot of the lake and mountain, to the last shot of a frozen Jack Nicholson and a spooky old photograph, this is such a beautiful movie. It’s definitely an Art film with a Capital A by a very serious Film Director (although Kubrick didn’t actually shoot the opening shot; never believe in the lone genius myth, it takes a village to create a masterpiece) but it’s also highly enjoyable. Everything is so perfectly orchestrated, and each shot is done with a sense of purpose, balance and mystery. The cinematography does more than just look good, too, it accentuates the themes of loneliness and despair. The opening shot is memorably gorgeous but it also imbues the viewer with a sense of dread by showing us just how isolated they are from civilization.

2. Music. That opening shot is not only memorable for its scope and the impressive scenery, it’s actually terrifying! But how? Why? It’s just a panning shot of water and trees! Something so natural and beautiful becomes disturbing because of the intense music. The rising chords make your heart race and your skin crawl with anticipation, as if some horrible force is just out of sight. The music throughout the movie is vital to creating the tense, eerie atmosphere

3. Sounds. Beyond the intense music, I love all the little sounds throughout the movie. It takes place in an empty hotel in the middle of nowhere, so every sound is magnified. When Jack is “working,” the sound of the typewriter ricochets off the walls of the giant room. When he takes a “break” to toss the tennis ball, that loud “splonk” noise echoes down the empty hallways. When Danny rides around on his trike, the wheels make a different sound on the carpet than on the hard wood floors, and it takes me back to riding my Big Wheels around the house. These sounds aren’t all that important individually but they come together to create a feeling. Kubrick tries to engage with all of our senses. When scared, the tiniest sound can become a cannon shot, and that is often the sensation here. Every single sound is intensified, which heightens all of our senses and almost makes us feel like we are in the hotel. Every single aspect of the movie matters. Which brings me to…

4. Colors. Kubrick always creates these bizarre settings, like the Milk Bar in Clockwork Orange. The settings here are all weird and awesome, and the color schemes are incredible. The red and white bathroom where Jack talks with the former keeper is made for a horror movie. I’ve never really seen a bathroom like that, and if I did, I would assume a murderous ghost would approach me. Then there’s the infamous carpeting. The red and black pattern is hypnotic and disturbing. How is a carpet disturbing? Is it just because I’ve seen the movie several times and associate the carpet with the events of the movie, or is it objectively disturbing? Maybe both. There’s also this aggressively ugly but awesome green and purple carpeting with green and white walls in Room 237. And of course, RED RUM, and the red doors of the elevator which foreshadow the infamous scene of the blood pouring out.

5. Room 237. The cook, Halloran, tells Danny this room is off limits. Something bad happened here before. Later, Danny goes in. We don’t see what happens, he just shows up a few moments later in his mom’s room sucking his thumb with a ripped sweater. He tells his mom a woman tried to strangle him, so Jack checks it out. At first it’s a hot naked lady, then it’s a not hot naked old lady. This moment probably freaked me out the most as a young man watching for the first time. Talk about playing with my emotions! Room 237 is also the name of a great documentary about the many conspiracy theories surrounding The Shining. It delves into the weird but plausible theories as well as the not as plausible, but it’s a lot of fun and gives great insight into the movie regardless of whether you believe the theories. Besides that documentary, there’s also the episode of The Simpson’s that parodies The Shining (“The Shinning”) which is one of the greatest network tv episodes ever made. When a film spawns a great documentary and a classic parody, it’s something special.

6. Scatman Crothers! Every time I hear his name I sing in my head “Bee bop bop bada bop, bop bop bada bop…Scatman!” He plays the cook, Halloran, who shares Danny’s ability to “shine.” He tells Danny about the gift and tries to warn him about the hotel. His best moment is when he hears about the storm on the news, and gets worried about the family. He’s rocking some fly pajamas, lying on his bed in his very 70’s monochromatic room, surrounded by pictures of beautiful naked women in Afros hanging on the wall. He’s the best.

7. Shelley Duval. A lot of people hate on her or her performance but I think it’s perfect for the movie. First off, as far as the story itself, she is the only one who takes care of Danny, she does all of the work taking care of the hotel, and she takes care of Jack’s crazy ass. Then, she rightfully freaks out when freaky shit starts happening and her husband is clearly losing his mind. Her freakouts are key to creating the feeling of terror. She’s all alone in a giant hotel in the middle of a mountain, trying to protect her only son from her insane husband. She helps sell the true terror of that situation. I also think she’s largely in the film because of her unique look. She has a very distinctive face with lots of sharp angles, and it fits so well with the scenery and cinematography. Her sharp angles are framed by the angles of the hotel, and she becomes part of the scenery. She wears these weird outfits that simply exist for their aura and to add another element of weirdness. She’s great.

8. Jack Nicholson. Absolutely insane. This is his master work. He has great lines and delivers them perfectly. He also has a distinctive face, in particular his mouth, which can effectively change from an Innocent grin to a raving mad ear to ear smirk in a moment. There’s too many great lines to recount them all, but one stood out to me while watching it this time. Duval runs into his room and tells him about the woman in Room 237 who hurt Danny. He gives her this disgusted look and says, “Are you out of your fucking mind?” because there’s obviously nobody else in the hotel. This from a man who was literally just talking to a ghost before Duval came in. Even at the beginning, when he’s a seemingly normal guy, there’s this underlying creepiness due to his mannerisms and expressions. Then, when he eventually completely loses it, he is simultaneously hilarious and horrifying.

9. Disorientation. Kubrick keeps the audience constantly disoriented. It’s most obvious with the labyrinth. Early on, we follow Danny and his mom as they walk through, turning and backtracking, until they find the center. Then at the end, Danny loses his father in the labyrinth, where Jack meets his demise. Inside of the hotel, when we follow Danny around on his trike, the layout of the hotel doesn’t make any sense, which was on purpose. It’s like a maze. And of course, the carpeting, another optical illusion to get lost in.

10. Unexplained Mystery. Ambiguity is a tricky feat to pull off. There needs to be some kid of explanation to satisfy the audience’s thirst for understanding, but a little unsolved mystery can keep the audience engaged and make the story more enticing. Kubrick unsurprisingly pulls this off well. Who was that lady in room 237 exactly? We never find out. Who is that getting a blowjob from someone in a bear costume? And just WTF was that? If Jack was in the photograph from 1921, and if he “was always here” as he’s told, is this some sort of time loop? Is it a prediction? Is Jack a ghost? Are those creepy twins really there? How many people have the "Shining" and how’d they get it? We don’t know exactly, but not finding those things out doesn’t hurt the story or feel incomplete. It feels like there are just some things we’ll never know, and that’s ok because that’s life. It also allows for endless speculation, which is fun.

11. Native American influence. One of the theories discussed in the documentary is the underlying Native American metaphor. Watching it with this in mind, it becomes glaringly obvious. Native designs (Navajo and Apache, specifically) are used heavily throughout the hotel (window curtains, paintings) and Shelley Duvall wears a ridiculous yellow coat with Native imagery. In the storage with all of the giant cans of food (all real products, with real, classic labels—it’s the little things!) there are a bunch of Calumet cans that seem to stand out from the rest. The Calumet logo is a Native in a headdress. But most importantly, we are told early on that the hotel was built on top of an “Indian burial ground,” and some workers even had to fight off Natives during construction. Well then…should’ve never messed with that burial ground, whiteys!

12. Themes. The most prominent themes are loneliness, creative frustration, alcoholism, and regret, all of which feed off one another, and all of which are emphasized in almost every scene. The scenery, the settings, the expressions on people’s faces…everything contributes to these motifs. The setting in particular captures a sense of loneliness and isolation in almost every shot. It's rare for a film's themes to be so well reinforced through every aspect of the film. The themes are also tangled up with the mysterious elements; did Jack start seeing ghosts because of loneliness and creative frustration, or were the ghosts really there? His wife sees the bear-man giving a guy a BJ, so were they really there, or was she losing her mind, too? Or both?

13. Writing. I love Stephen King, but I’m so glad Kubrick made this his own. I never read the book so I don’t know if there are major differences, but I know King hates the movie. He should get over that and let more directors change up his books for movies. Staying too close to the source can actually hurt some movies. Some of the stuff in King’s books doesn’t need to be on screen. Neither IT movie included the adolescent gang bang did they? Let’s be real, does anyone remember The Shining made-for-tv movie, which King oversaw and that more closely followed the book? No. But more than just the script, writing itself is a key plot point to the story. All of the themes stem from writing: the loneliness of writing, the frustration it can cause, the looming alcoholism, and then the regret of not doing more or being better. Regret often comes with writing because writing requires reflection, and Jack has a lot of regrets and refuses to reflect honestly. King on the other hand has spoken about his regrets, in particular his past alcoholism and drug abuse. Jack is basically a stand in for who King could’ve become, which is kinda scary for his wife and kids, but it sure made for a great character.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.