Hollywood comes to Chandler Street

While walking home from work tonight, I spotted a giant crane casting an ice-blue light down Chandler Street. Police kept a swelling crowd at bay, a guy in a hoodie sat in a director's chair, and giant fuzzy microphones were strategically placed along the street. And then the telltale sign: an Apple laptop sitting on the curb unattended. Yep, Hollywood had come to the South End!

The movie is "Ted," starring Mark Wahlberg. This is a comedy about a guy, John, who as a child wished that his teddy bear would come to life. Wish granted, the bear apparently causes some problems for John later on down the line. The movie is directed by Seth MacFarlane, creator of "Family Guy." It also stars, as John's love interest, "Black Swan" supporting actress Mila Kunis, whom I at first thought seemed creepily too young for Mark Wahlberg, but maybe that's because she looks young for her age (27), and he looks a bit old for his (39).

While writing this blog item, I also learned that Laura Vandervoort, whom I like because of "Smallville" and "V," is a cast member as well. I have been a fan of hers for a while (and was lucky enough to meet her last year at Trek Expo 2010), so that to me is the coolest thing about "Ted" so far.

Apparently, the cast and crew have also shot scenes in Swampscott, as well as other spots in Boston, including the Public Garden, Liberty Rent-A-Car on Tremont Street, and Charlie's Sandwich Shoppe on Columbus Avenue, where one of my co-workers spotted them last week, so I'm glad I'm now keeping up a bit. After getting an initial glimpse on my way home, I grabbed my dog, Grace, and we headed back to the area of filming, which was between Berkeley and Clarendon. All along that block, residents were sitting on their stoops nursing glasses of red wine and bottles of beer, snacking on Chex mix and other finger foods, while trying to get a glimpse of a star or some other movie magic.

One guy I chatted with said that he'd sighted Wahlberg earlier in the evening, but I didn't see anyone famous while I was there. The glitziest thing I saw was a beautiful red Mustang, but it wasn't clear to me whether it was part of the movie! Could have just belonged to some well-to-do South Ender.

Grace was a big hit with the crew and neighbors, which was nice. Unfortunately, all the commotion made her a bit nervous, so we came home, giving up an off-chance of spotting Vandervoort in lieu of watching her in the series finale of "Smallville," quite a landmark for us sci-fi junkies, or at least the few of us who have stuck it out with this show for 10 whole years!

Expedition to Cambridge

In honor of the Oscars, yesterday I decided to trek across the Charles River to my least favorite movie theater, the Kendall Cinema, because it is the only one showing "Blue Valentine."

Along the way, I noticed something more exciting than "Blue Valentine" turned out to be — the Charles River has begun to thaw! It still looked a bit arctic, with birds perching on plains of ice. But at least there was a bit of water lapping at the ice's edge.

I wrote about the icy Charles River last year, too, after my company moved into a new office where I had a clear view of the river's solid state. This year, the view has been similarly chilly. For a long time, the river was a glassy blue-gray. Then, after the heavy snowfall a few weeks ago, it was a powdery-white expanse — very "Dr. Zhivago." On a recent windy day, the powder was still there, but in a scalloped pattern. So it was cool to see moving water as I walked over the Longfellow Bridge on my way to the movies.

I wasn't sure I should stop to take pictures, because it's a long walk to the theater and I hate being late for movies, but I decided to risk it. Luckily, I did get to the theater on time, but the movie, a tale of two star-crossed, poor, and rather stupid lovers, was pretentious and disappointing. I thought the biggest problem was that the female lead was a complete cypher — I came out of the film not understanding who she was or why she did anything. On top of that, the movie was aesthetically unappealing; it somehow managed to make everything look unattractive. Food looked gross. Sex looked gross. Even the normally beautiful Michelle Williams looked a bit gross.

In other words, seeing the river-water move was definitely the high point of my outting. And it didn't even cost $8.

I love prawns

On Thursday night, I came home intending to start work on a birthday card for a friend, but I watched TV instead. On Friday, I had the same intentions, but went to my gym instead, then spent some time convincing myself there is nothing wrong with giving people store-bought cards.

My friend's birthday party was today, and I woke up this morning with the deep desire to go ahead and make the card. Given that I was also intent on squeezing in a workout, and given that I take forever to make cards, it felt like quite the rush job, but I think it probably came out OK.

The recipient of the card is someone who loves movies, and the party had a movie theme. One of his favorite movies last year (and mine) was "District 9." We actually saw it together. So it seemed a good subject for a card, which I ended up making in three 3.5-inch panels.

The first panel was a sketch of Christopher Johnson, the alien who is persecuted in the film. He was probably my favorite character from any movie I saw last year.

The second panel depicts Wikus, the bureaucrat who persecutes Christopher and other aliens — or prawns — before coming to his senses and fighting for them. Wikus has a lot of scenes where he looks bewildered and frantic, so I took a stab at one of those. I did this part last, when I was really running late, so I'm afraid Wikus got an especially hasty treatment.

On the third panel, I wrote a caption that wished my friend a better year than Wikus and Christoper Johnson. I connected the panels by making slim rectangular hole punches along the left edges and stringing them together with a light-green satin ribbon.

I guess the card came out well enough given the small amount of time I had. It's just a little frustrating because if I'd started a few days ago, I could have done a better job. It would have been nice to watch the movie again and get inspired, as well as to remind myself more of what the prawns look like. Sadly, this card is also not as elaborate and probably not as good as the card I gave this same friend last year. I hate having a precedent to live up to!

My friend hadn't yet opened the card when I left the party, but he did give away a few small door prizes, and mine was a keychain with a "District 9" prawn on it. I actually really love it! If he is half as happy with the card as I am with the keychain, then everything is good.

Rest in peace, Temple members

Years ago I learned that an acquaintance of mine had been involved with burying the victims of the Jonestown tragedy. My acquaintance, whom I'll call Sam, told me that his family's funeral home had publicized a toll-free phone number for friends and relatives to call if they wanted to identify any of the bodies. I can still remember Sam telling me that no one had ever called, that many victims had ended up in a mass grave. Sam, who is black, seemed to think that society in general didn't care about these people because most of them were either black, poor, or both.

I took this story with a grain of salt, thinking that surely there were many people who grieved for the Jonestown victims. Still, the idea that no one ever called that number has always bothered me, as has the idea that the victims were simply dismissed by the world. It made me wonder who they were and what they went through. At the time, I tried reading a book on Jonestown, but the one I chose was too disturbing for me then, so I set the topic aside for a long time.

Recently, I was flipping channels and caught the last 20 minutes of a documentary on the Jonestown. Later I rented a different documentary, Jonestown: The Life and Death of Peoples Temple, and after watching it, I read Seductive Poison, a memoir by former Jonestown resident Deborah Layton. Both were excellent. I'm going to devote this post to the documentary, and a future post to the book.

Passionate idealism
If you've never heard of Jonestown, here are the basics: Jonestown was named for the Rev. Jim Jones, who was the leader of a church — or cult — called Peoples Temple. Espousing the causes of racial integration, social justice, and community, Jones led a congregation of 900 people from San Francisco to the wilds of Guyana, on the northern coast of South America, where they said they would build a utopian society, which came to be called Jonestown.

But before too long, questions arose about how people were treated in Jonestown and whether they were truly free to leave. In November 1978, a congressman from California went to visit, along with several journalists — and violence erupted. As Congressman Leo Ryan was trying to leave Guyana with several church members who had pled for his help, Temple gunmen launched an attack that killed Ryan and four others. Later that day, Jones, who had become increasingly paranoid, told his disciples they were in grave danger and ordered them to drink cyanide-laced punch. Those who resisted were forced to drink or injected with cyanide, while armed Temple members kept people from fleeing. A total of 913 people died.

That's a lot of ground to cover in 90 minutes, but that is what this film attempts to do. Actually, it attempts to do even more. The movie, which was directed by Stanley Nelson and released in 2006, begins with Jones's impoverished Indiana childhood, describes the creation of the Temple, its growth in California, and its end in Guyana. Forgoing the use of voiceovers and interviewer questions, the filmmaker relies soley on comments from well-chosen sources — including many former Temple members — and historical footage.

What I liked about the film was the very real face it puts on the group. Especially compelling are former members who describe the ideals that brought them into the fold, mainly Jones's causes of racial integration and equality.

"I was impressed by how it was such an interracial group, and people were really happy," says Bryan Kravitz in the film. He explains that he first saw Jones speak during a Temple visit to Philadelphia. "I heard Jim Jones talking about equality among the races. ... The good works that they were doing. Things that I wanted to get involved with but didn't even know where to make an entrée. And all of a sudden, the answer was there."

Some of those who went to Jonestown speak of the joy they felt in being able to live simply and self-
sufficiently, producing all their own food and essentially being shareholders in a community that they built themselves. As part of the Jonestown footage, the film shows photographs of people tending crops, kids playing basketball, and mothers holding children.

"It was just an exciting time," said former Temple member Laura Johnston Kohl. "Everything was new and unique and just fun, you know? We just had fun with it as it grew. I just loved that we created what we ate, that we did all these jobs."

But there was a dark side. Many people, members from varying stages in the Temple's 20+-year life, speak of discovering Jones's deceit, his sadistic tendencies, and his gestapo-style intimidation of those who might want to defect from the group. These troublesome facts about Jones seemed to become increasingly evident over the years, apparently reaching fever pitch in Guyana.

For many, however, the problems were secondary to the central mission of the group. Many in the film speak of how and why they came to accept the abuses. "It's like a child in a dysfunctional family," said former member Jordan Vilchez. "On a certain level, it's normal."

Added former member Hue Fortson Jr.: "We felt like we had gotten involved and gotten in so deep that there was actually no way out."

'She died in my arms'
The film captures — in chilling detail — the strange events of Nov. 17 and Nov. 18, 1978.

The sequence begins with video footage of Ryan and his party's first visit to Jonestown, where residents initially put Ryan's mind at ease. Many of the Jonestown residents seem to be in good spirits, and a singer entertains the multiracial group. As a member of Ryan's party says in the film, "It was a vibrant community. I would never have imagined that 24 hours later those people would be dead."

The first warning sign was when a frightened Temple member tried to pass a note to a member of Ryan's party asking for safe passage out of the community. That person was one of those who eventually reached safety, though Ryan, three journalists, and one defector were not as lucky. They were shot to death while trying to board a small plane out of the area. An NBC cameraman, who died in the gunfire, filmed some of the events before he was killed, and the footage is featured in the movie.

Perhaps even more disturbing is audio that the filmmakers secured, apparently from tapes recovered from the site, of Jones informing his congregation that Ryan was dead and that all of Peoples Temple would be blamed and punished — tortured even — unless they escaped in an act of "revolutionary suicide."

"It's nothing to death, it's just stepping into another plane. Don't be this way," Jones calmly intones. And later: "Quickly quickly quickly quickly quickly. Where is the vat? The vat, the vat, bring it here so the adults can begin."

It is one of the more haunting pieces of audio I've ever heard. I suggest not watching this right before you go to bed.

Of the entire film, some the most heartbreaking moments are the accounts of members who escaped from the scene of the murder-suicides. Two members watched their wives die; one also watched his baby die. You can almost feel the claustrophia of the jungle and the madness of Jones as they describe their loved ones' last moments.

"I saw my wife with our son in her arms and poison being injected into his mouth," former member Tim Carter says in the film. "My son was dead and he was frothing at the mouth. You know, cyanide makes people froth at the mouth. My wife died in my arms. And my dead baby son was in her arms. And I held her and said, 'I love you, I love you,' because that was all I could say. It was like — she died in my arms."

Later in the film he says, "They were just fucking slaughtered. ... It was just senseless waste and death."

Stanley Clayton relays how his wife saw her mother, grandmother, and siblings die. Then she followed Jones's directive willingly.

"She went up to that Kool-Aid, to that death barrel, and she just didn't hesitate," Clayton said. "She took it and drunk and told me to hold her. ... She died in my arms. Once I laid her down — she told me she wanted to lay with her grandmother — I at that point knew that I didn't have any reason to be here anymore." Clayton then cleverly tricked armed Temple guards and escaped into the jungle.

If I have a complaint about the film, it's that I think it glossed over certain details. Perhaps this is a necessity when boiling down a complex topic to a 90-minute presentation, but after doing a little reading on the topic, I think it would have been useful to identify the time frame that each member was in Jonestown, and whether any were "inside" members close to Jones, as opposed to being further way and perhaps insulated from his more frightening behavior.

I also thought that a letter found at Jonestown, and read at the end of the film, was edited in such a way as to make it seem more ambiguous than it really was. Perhaps this wasn't intentional, but from the presentation in the film, I thought the letter-writer was resistant to the suicide order. After finding the full transcript online, I no longer think so. Either way, the letter is incredibly moving and sad; I just don't think it was edited well for the film.

But these are mainly nitpicks. In general, Jonestown: The Life and Death of Peoples Temple offers a fascinating introduction to its topic.

Memorial
After watching this film, my thoughts turned back to Sam and his recollections. I've since learned that a memorial wall is being erected at the site of a mass grave of several hundred Jonestown victims in California.

My own memorial is below. In my drawing, I chose to make all the headstones the same size to indicate that the people had something in common, but the individual inscriptions were inspired by remembrances I found on a web site called Alternative Considerations of Jonestown and Peoples Temple. This site, which is part of San Diego State University, includes a list of all those who died, with tools that let friends and relatives leave memorial comments about any of the victims.

If you're curious about this tragedy, I hope you'll either rent Jonestown: The Life and Death of Peoples Temple, which is available from Netflix, or go to the SDSU site and look at some of the testimonials about the victims. I think that the greatest honor we can do the Jonestown victims is to remember them, and recognize that each one represents a unique and incalculable loss.

A day at the shore

I became aware of the movie "Precious: Based on the Novel 'Push' by Sapphire" not because of its reviews or Oprah Winfrey sponsorship, but because of its inexplicably long name, which really stands out when you're browsing Fandango.com.

After learning that the movie has quite a high fresh rating, I decided to check it out. I knew virtually nothing about it except that, according to one Rotten Tomatoes snippet, it offers a grim but uplifting portrait of a poor black girl.

Two hours later: Wow. What a movie. Directed by Lee Daniels, it's at times terrifying, often disturbing, and ultimately, pretty reassuring. If you can stomach upsetting pictures of domestic violence, I highly recommend it.

Set in Harlem, the story follows Claireece (Gabourey Sidibe), or Precious, an obese, dark-skinned 16-year-old who looks in the mirror and imagines that she's a slim white girl. She lives in poverty with a chain-smoking mother, Mary (Mo'Nique), who occasionally emerges from a TV-watching lethargy to beat Precious, berate her, and throw things at her. As the movie opens, we learn that Precious is pregnant with her second child by her own father, who has repeatedly raped her. This fact seems to incite particular violence in Mary, who sees Precious as a conniving other woman. Precious is suspended from school, but a concerned administrator persuades her to enroll in an alternative school.

This alternative school is where Precious finds solid ground. Here, she meets Blu Rain (Paula Patton), a beautiful English teacher who exudes serenity and, among other things, teaches Precious to read (starting with an idyllic-sounding story, "A Day at the Shore"). The other girls in the class are not 100% welcoming at first, but they evolve into a family of sorts. As the story progresses, other comforting faces show up in the form of a nurse's aide (Lenny Kravitz), a tough but kind social worker (an unrecognizable, very good Mariah Carey), and the school's secretary (Sherri Shepherd).

At times the movie's happy scenes seem a bit pat, but overall the film succeeds, largely because of its strong performances and its uncompromising portrayal of the place that Precious comes from. "Precious" features scenes as scary as any I've seen on film — the movie is truly not for the faint of heart. But you have to respect a story that's willing to go in some of the places this one does. For me, a lot of credit goes to screenwriter Geoffrey Fletcher and to Sidibe. Sidibe plays Precious with a gravel-voiced, unlikely strength, one infused with occasional lines of ragged poetry ("The other day I cried," she says in a voice over. "I felt stupid. But you know what? Fuck that day. That's why God or whoever makes new days.")

After watching the film, I learned a little more about the book and was slightly disappointed to learn that it wasn't penned by a "Precious" figure. I say this because there is a scene in the film, a slightly heavy-handed one, where Miss Rain vigorously urges Precious to write about her problems. I wondered whether such instruction led a real-life troubled student to create this story. Rather, the author, Sapphire, apparently was a teacher — more of a Blu Rain — who knew girls like Precious.

Whatever the source of the story, it is one that stays with you. It was heavily on my mind for some time after I watched it, especially that afternoon. When I came out of the theater, I walked for a while, then ducked out of the cold into the Finagle-A-Bagel outside Copley Square. It was only 5 p.m. but already dark outside. Perched at an upstairs window, I had a nice view of the Hancock tower and everything in its wake: the lights of the square, freshly decorated for the holidays, the crowded sidewalks, and the headlights inching along Boylston Street.

Gazing at this scene, I found myself wondering about the mood of the whole city just at that moment. I wondered: if right now I knew the mind of every single person in Boston, how much happiness would I see? How many people would be in perfect comfort, perhaps looking forward to a privileged evening — an early holiday party, or a date with an adoring partner? How many would be scared? How many disheartened? How many drifting along numbly? I guess it's not unusual to wonder things like that, but "Precious" especially made my mind move in that direction. I pass so many people in the city about whom I'll never know anything. How many nurse anguish like that of Precious? How many will find their way out? At the risk of sounding cheesy, I hope that this movie helps, by reminding people to treat others with compassion.

This Is It

There's a scene midway through "Michael Jackson's This Is It" where
Michael is working with the show's musical director on a slow, sultry version of "The Way You Make Me Feel."

The musical director is tapping the melody out on a keyboard but not getting the tempo exactly like Michael wants it. Frustrations seem to be building ever so slightly when the musical director says that he'll need explicit guidance if Michael wants, for example, "more booty in it." With that, MJ cracks up, and they try again, with everything seeming to go well until Michael puts out his hands in a "stop" gesture and says, gently but firmly, "You've got to let it simmer!"

This moment epitomizes what I loved about "This Is It." The film offers an intimate glimpse into Michael Jackson's creative process, and the picture is one of wit, perfectionism that's exacting but always professional, and of course great talent.

If you want to see Michael belt it out, you might be slightly disappointed, as throughout the movie it's clear he's saving his voice for the main event that never came. Still, there's a lot to like about the movie's music and dance. You just have to be patient and take the glorious moments when they come, sometimes in surprising places: The dance he does during an extended ending of "Billie Jean" is tremendously cool (and made better by the small cluster of awestruck dancers cheering him on). The rehearsal of "Human Nature" — especially the way he says "I like lovin' this way" — is fierce. With "I Just Can't Stop Loving You," he and backup singer Judith Hill luxuriate in an exceptionally drawn-out ending that seems pretty close to perfect. (By the way, if you feel like being sad, check out her memorial tribute song to Michael.)

The movie also offers insightful peeks at the man behind the music — his work style and inspirations. I liked watching him work with the young blonde guitar player on "Black or White," encouraging her that "this is your time to shine." Also good is a moment during "Smooth Criminal" where director Kenny Ortega points out that the staging Michael wants to use means that he won't be able to see an important visual queue — it will be happening behind him. "Yeah," Michael says, in what seems like complete seriousness, "I gotta feel that." It's cute, too, near the end of the film when Ortega makes some big sweeping movements with his arms, looking a bit like he's pointing toward the emergency exits on a plane, and Michael enthuses, "I love when the stewardesses do that!"

A pleasant surprise was seeing some of the other artists, particularly the dancers. The movie opens with scenes of the dance auditions, and it's a great sequence — very "A Chorus Line" (Michael even says "She's the one!"). From there on, the dancers are impressive. I particularly liked the snippet of one, I think it was Travis Payne, dancing in the foreground during "Shake Your Body." I also liked Mekia Cox, who is the object of Michael's advances during "The Way You Make Me Feel." She plays that part perfectly, and it looks like she's having so much fun.


I don't want to go off on too much of a tangent, but concurrent with seeing this movie, I went back and re-read the cover story from this summer's Rolling Stone special edition on Michael, and I was surprised at how much the piece annoyed me the second time around. I still like certain things about it, but, fresh after having seen the movie, I was especially turned off by the following passage:

"That [the 1983 Motown anniversary show] was the last truly blessed moment in Michael Jackson's life. After that, everything became argument and recrimination. And in time, decay."
I don't know exactly how that dramatic statement is meant to be interpreted, but "This Is It" seems a stark contradiction to any suggestion that Michael's later years were ones of "decay." Certainly anyone who watches this movie will see that he was, up until the end, an artist in full control of his considerable gifts, someone who inspired others, not to mention a person of humor and kindness.

You really get a sense of this near the end of the film when Michael and the rest of the performers gather in a circle, and he talks about his reasons for doing the concert, how he wants to bring audiences a positive message about caring for one another and the Earth, and to convey some "love."

Judging from the cheers, singing, and spontaneous applause that burst out in the theater the two times I saw it, I'd say mission accomplished.