Faith Can Move Mountains... But Dynamite Works Better

Wednesday, October 25, 2017

Staring Into The Eyes Of The Beast


It’s a matter of strange timing for the release of a movie. With forest fires wrecking havoc in California, a new film about those who choose to go out and fight them has hit theatres. Only The Brave tells the tale of a group of fire fighters who went out and fought a forest fire in Arizona in 2013. Directed by Joseph Kosinski (Tron Legacy and Oblivion), the film follows them as they face the beast. A harrowing, powerful story unfolds, one that makes you appreciate the hazards and difficulties of the job.


Eric Marsh (Josh Brolin) is the head of a crew of forest fire fighters in Arizona, eager to get his team’s rating raised and having them on the front lines. They include familiar faces- Taylor Kitsch, James Badge Dale, and Miles Teller, the last of whom is playing a newcomer, Brendan McDonough, who’s trying to get past problems of his own in a new line of work. Marsh has his own preoccupations, his wife Amanda (Jennifer Connelly) wants to start a family, and he spends most of his time working in a hazardous line of work. His crew is called out to work on a fire out in the countryside, a wildfire that quickly grows dangerous.


Much of the filming was done on locations in New Mexico, with a common enough terrain to double for the original areas. The source material for the film is the true story, as recounted in a GQ article by Sean Flynn. Ken Nolan and Eric Warren Singer crafted the screenplay out of that, and the film was placed in the hands of Kosinski, who thus far has the two films to his credit. I liked Tron Legacy, while Oblivion suffered from the presence of its lead actor. That said, the director has already shown skill with sprawling films and special effects, and in this film, he shows a gift for characterization.


With twenty members of a crew, it’s inevitable that some characters get more exposure than others through the story. We get to know these fire fighters in some capacity before they get sent into the hazards of the job, and Kosinski takes time to see things through their perspective, the challenges of their job, and their lives before throwing them into the proverbial inferno. The result is seeing the ferocity of a fire from the point of view of a group of determined, stubborn men. And Kosinksi and his crew convey that ferocity effectively in a combination of practical and CGI effects that blend together. We feel like the fire is coming in on us.


I looked around beforehand for other movies on forest fires. There have been a few, but no real stand outs. Some have woven the notion of a human antagonist into the story, but that’s not the case here. The antagonist of Only The Brave is the fire: it eats, breathes, and destroys, relentless and without remorse. The story follows these fire fighters we’ve gotten to know as they confront the monster, and as things move along, it’s heart wrenching, thrilling, and emotional.


The cast were all well chosen for their roles. They seem to capture the sense of esprit de corps and professionalism and toughness that you would expect out of the real deal. Some of the actors get more to do as things unfold, while others are more sketchily developed. Jennifer Connelly is sympathetic as Amanda, hopeful for the future when we first meet her, worrying about her husband as events unfold. She knows what she signed on for when she got involved with Marsh in the first place, and their relationship reflects a dilemma- a marriage where one of the partners is torn between life and duty. There’s a similar perspective in Andie Macdowell’s character Marvel, whose husband isn’t part of Marsh’s crew, but instead his mentor, a veteran of the job who’s faced his own dangers. Marvel’s spent years worrying about her husband when he’s gone out on a job, so she can relate.


James Badge Dale has had a good number of character roles down through the years, on television and in film, and here he gets one more. Jesse Steed is a tough, capable, resourceful fire fighter, one who’s been doing the job for awhile and understands its demands as he and the crew shift to front line duty. The same applies to Taylor Kitsch, playing Chris Mackenzie, another veteran of the work. He gives the character a stubborn, tenacious quality in his performance. Miles Teller, whose last film role I saw was in Fantastic Four (and which was not his fault for how it didn’t work) is the rookie to the crew as Brendan. The character when we meet him is trying to start over after many problems in his life, and he becomes a point of view character, taking on a new job and being astonished by the ferocity of what he encounters.


Jeff Bridges gets a good character role, one in a long line of them, as Duane Steinbrink, a mentor to Marsh who’s outside the immediacy of Marsh’s crew and in a supervisory role. He’s a veteran of the job who’s learned a lot through decades of fighting fires and sheer grunt work, and dispenses the wisdom of what he’s learned. Bridges gives the character a strong sense of authenticity, weight, and gravity in how he plays him. As is so often the case with Bridges, you could watch him read the phone book and he’d make it interesting.


Josh Brolin has the central role as Marsh, and brings a sense of strength and leadership in how he plays the character. He’s a bit preoccupied at first, but doesn’t carry that into the field, instead conveying the air of a man who’s calm under pressure, steady in the face of danger, and exactly the sort whose lead you would want to follow. The actor adds gruffness and a dash of eccentricity to the role, personalizing the fire in a way that you expect might be the case among others in the job. Brolin gives Marsh a core of tenacity and resourcefulness that was no doubt common to the real man, bringing humanity to the role as he goes along.


Only The Brave is definitely powerful, the best film about fire fighters since Backdraft. It tells a wrenching, heart stopping tale, and deftly weaves the story of men who go out to fight a merciless enemy despite the risks with the kind of effects that bring that enemy to vivid life. This is not a film for someone who has a deep fear of fire. Nor is it the sort of film that uplifts. It is, however, an intense character study about those who take these risks and go out into the inferno. I found it compelling and impressive- and I wonder how it might play out in those areas that have been affected by fires as of late. This is the sort of film that deserves attention at Oscar time.

Monday, October 23, 2017

A Day In The Life Of A Cat

As always, the cat has the last word, and so here she is.


7:06 AM. Waking up. Taking a big stretch. Slept well. Dreamed of frost and changing leaves and the ghosts of mice I’ve dispatched from this world.


7:11 AM. Getting a look outside. The dawn comes so much later these days. Fall is carrying on, with winter not that far behind it. Very well then, as long as it doesn’t prevent my staff from keeping me fed as I expect. No three week shut in episodes for us, thank you very much.


7:14 AM. Waiting on the staff to come downstairs. At least I can hear from the sounds upstairs that she’s in the shower. Why humans can’t just wash themselves in the same way that cats do baffles me. Who wants to get that much water on them?


7:22 AM. The staff finally comes downstairs. I deliver head bonks to her legs. It took you long enough, staff. Now then, I crave sustenance, and I crave it now. I desire a cold bowl of milk, with a plate of tuna if possible. The plate must be chilled in advance, but if we wait for that, it’ll take a half hour. Why can’t you wake up a half hour earlier? Or at least put the plate in the fridge the night before? Oh, and I do not want field rations. Are we clear on that?


7:24 AM. The staff puts down my breakfast. A plate of tuna and milk as requested… and for some bizarre reason she persists in putting down a bowl of field rations.


7:25 AM. Leaving the field rations aside, I settle into my breakfast.


7:27 AM. Finished with breakfast. Feeling content. Ignoring the field rations.


7:36 AM. Meowing instructions to the staff as she’s on her way out the door. Now then, I expect you to be home promptly and on time to spoil me rotten after you’re done with this work thing. But if you’re stopping for groceries, I expect you to pick up some catnip for me.


7:37 AM. Watching the staff as she gets in her car. Okay. So I’m all by myself today. How much trouble can one cat get into anyway?


7:49 AM. Sitting in the kitchen, looking up at the big pumpkin on the counter. Hallowe’en being just a few days off, at any time, the staff is likely to initiate one of those annual ritual sacrifices and go serial killer on that thing, carving up a garish face onto it. There are times I find human beings to be quite perplexing. Oh well, just as long as she doesn’t try to put me in a Hallowe’en costume. Because if she does, I swear to Isis, there is going to be hell to pay.


7:52 AM. Distant barking from that annoying dog. Did I mention I dislike him?


8:01 AM. Sitting on the back of the couch, looking out at the vastness of my domain.


8:05 AM. Movement out on the lawn catches my eye. It’s that foul hound! On my property!


8:06 AM. Casting a storm of contempt and outrage upon that vile canine. Get lost! How many times do I have to tell you? You’re not welcome here! I don’t like you! Are you as dumb as you look? What part of go to hell do you not get?


8:07 AM. …and another thing! You will in the future respect the boundaries of my property and stop coming here! I do not abide the presence of a hound on my lands, especially one as irritating as you are! Am I making myself clear???


8:08 AM. The annoying dog finally walks away. And don’t come back, you hear me? Don’t come back!


8:12 AM. Still thoroughly annoyed. Why that dog can’t take a hint and go away is beyond me.


10:58 AM. Waking up from a nap. Taking a look outside just in case that obnoxious mutt came back. No, no sign of him. Good.


12:30 PM. After much reluctance, I help myself to some of those field rations. It’ll be hours until the staff comes home, after all, and we kitties must eat when we can. Besides, I can’t get the cabinet doors open, or use can openers, so that pretty much rules out getting into the tuna or chicken supplies.


 2:27 PM. Launching an assault on the scratching post. In doing so, I have activated residual catnip scents clinging to the carpet. Which is setting me off on a catnip craze…


3:01 PM. Coming down from my catnip craze. Lying on the living room floor. Noticing one of the end tables knocked over. Strange things happen when cats go catnip crazy, you know…


5:19 PM. Woken up by the sound of the front door opening. The staff walks in. I get up and walk over to greet her. Hello, staff, did you bring me anything? She asks about the end table. Oh, that? Must have been a ghost. They’re very busy this time of year, you know…


6:37 PM. Dinner with the staff. She has obliged me with a plate of ground beef. Which suits me fine. For whatever reason, she wanted to have hers in a shepherd’s pie. Too many vegetables if you ask me, and of course you are asking me.


7:22 PM. Watching the staff as she carves up the pumpkin. What did that pumpkin ever do to you?


8:48 PM. Lying on my back, staring up at the living room ceiling, pondering the great mysteries of life. Is the red dot real, or an illusion?


11:27 PM. The staff is off to bed. Very well, staff. Have a good night’s sleep. I will be down here for the moment, but expect you to keep the bedroom door open. After all, one never knows if that pumpkin is going to come back to life and demand payback, and if it comes to that, I’m totally not protecting you.

Saturday, October 21, 2017

A Day In The Life Of A Dog

It is time once more for the point of view of the dog and the cat. As always, the dog has the first say.


7:09 AM. Waking up at home. Still kind of dark out there. Boy, we’re seeing less and less of the sun this time of year. Like that guy keeps saying, brace yourselves, winter is coming. He’s been saying that for a long time, hasn’t he?


7:12 AM. Looking outside. Okay, so it’s not pitch black night, but the sun’s not up yet. I think we’ve got frost on the ground though. 


7:14 AM. Sounds from upstairs. Good. The human is awake. Which means sooner or later she’ll be down here, and that means it’ll be time for breakfast. And a good breakfast is always essential for a good dog like me. And I am a good dog. A very good dog. Don’t believe a thing the mailman, the vet, the mayor, or that cranky cat from down the road say about me. They’re all serial liars.


7:26 AM. The human comes downstairs. Wagging my tail with a certain furious energy. Good morning, human! How are you? Say, I don’t know about you, but I am famished. Could we do something about that?


7:28 AM. Thumping my tail with anticipation as I watch the human pour kibbles into my bowl.


7:29 AM. The human puts my bowl down on the floor. I waste no time in getting to work eating.


7:30 AM. Licking my proverbial chops after finishing breakfast. Quite satisfied. That should keep me happy until lunch.


7:35 AM. Out the door for my morning ramble. See you later, human!


7:36 AM. Sniffing around the grass. Sure enough, plenty of frost.


7:48 AM. Running through the back fields. More light now. Barking my head off. Happy as I can be.


8:02 AM. Passing by the house of that cranky cat. I wonder if she’s around. Maybe I should say hello.


8:04 AM. Coming around the front of the house. Hallowe’en decorations in the window. Oh, right, that’s in a few days. I hope my human doesn’t get it in her head to make me dress up. It’s one thing to look like a motorbiking dog. It’s another to look like a hot dog with relish and mustard. That’s beneath my dignity.


8:05 AM. I have found the cranky cat. She’s sitting on a windowsill. And she has noticed me.


8:06 AM. The cranky cat is hissing and screeching and giving me the finger. I don’t know what your problem is. I mean, I’m a very good dog. Oh, sure, there have been the odd occasions when I’ve barked you out of a sound sleep just because I thought it was funny, but that doesn’t mean I’m a bad dog…


8:07 AM. The grouchy feline continues to read me the riot act. Maybe for Hallowe’en you could dress up as someone of a gentle and friendly disposition. Just a thought.


8:08 AM. I continue to listen to the abuse and death threats of the irritated kitty, and decide that perhaps it might be best to depart before she decides to get really personal. Or send a hit-ferret after me. Bye, cat! See you tomorrow, maybe?


8:22 AM. Stopping in to see Spike the Magnificent, Tormentor of Squirrels.


8:25 AM. Spike and I discuss the odd nature of the feline species in general and their lack of patience in particular. If you ask me, Spike, cats are just plain weird.


8:28 AM. Spike and I confer on the peculiar traditions of Hallowe’en. I don’t know about you, Spike, but the scariest thing I can think of for a trick or treater to dress as is a vet. That would just spook me to no end. And what is it with disfiguring pumpkins with huge knives anyway?


8:29 AM. Spike notes that for some reason, squirrels like to nibble on those pumpkins when left out on the porch. No doubt some nefarious scheme on their part. Something we’ll have to keep an eye out for, right?


8:43 AM. Back home. The human has let me back in, and I think it’s time for a nap. Circling around on the living room floor three times before settling down.


12:07 PM. Mooching some dinner rolls from the human. Yum yum yum!


1:33 PM. Barking up a storm at the mailman as he drops off some mail. Hey! Get lost!


3:58 PM. Mooching a cookie from the human while she has afternoon tea. Oatmeal tastes good.


6:40 PM. Dinner with the human. She’s given me a plate of stewing beef. Oh, this is good…


11:36 PM. The human is off to bed. Well, good night, human. Sleep well, but keep the door open. It’s near Hallowe’en, after all, and just in case there are any ghosts and goblins out and about, I’m definitely coming in and hiding under the bed.