In this incredible video, film composer Germaine Franco talks about what it takes to be a film composer in Hollywood. I was frustrated with my music career before watching this video, but hearing Franco talk about how she overcomes writer’s block and just keeps working extremely hard every day has inspired me to keep going. She says that she started off as an orchestra musician and thought she was going to be an orchestra musician, but then she realized she always had a passion for writing her own music, so she started writing for her own Latin jazz group. Here are some of the excellent lessons I took away from this video:
Work on as much writing as you can so that you can be ready. Don’t figure it out when you get your first gig. This is important for me as a musician and as a writer because I sometimes worry that I’m not good enough to play more pieces, so I would just focus on Schumann’s Cello Concerto. But I have learned that if you want to make it as a musician, you can’t always play it safe. You have to explore lots of different kinds of writing, lots of different kinds of music. The reason so many folks in Hollywood are successful is that they keep working every day on something, and even if it doesn’t get a lot of accolades, they just keep working at it.
Get up early and work on your writing. Franco gets to the studio around 7 am, doesn’t check emails until lunch, and just writes. She says that you can’t worry about whether your writing is perfect at the beginning because you have a deadline you need to meet, so you just need to keep writing, working with different instruments and sounds. I find myself often checking emails a lot, and that it really stifles my creativity when I check emails every day, so I find when I don’t check my emails a lot I’m able to get a lot of writing in.
It really, really helps to spend some time in Hollywood if you want to write for film. There are many other places such as Nashville, your home town, Europe, but most people who work in Hollywood spend some time (if not all the time) in Los Angeles. At first, this was hard for me to wrap my head around because as things are now with the economy, it would be hard for me to move to Los Angeles, especially because it is pricing out low and middle income folks. But I am not giving up. I am stubborn like that, so I am still determined to go to Los Angeles somehow even if it’s just for a few weeks.
You need a mentor. When Franco moved to LA she didn’t know anyone but she kept working and working and meeting people in the business who connected her with other composers in the business, so she was able to take all of these incredible opportunities. I have learned this throughout my life as a musician, as a student, as a person. Just keep collaborating with others, always ask for help and be open to receiving constructive criticism so you can improve your craft.
Even when you don’t have a gig yet, work on your own personal library. This was incredibly inspiring advice because sometimes I feel that if I’m not performing my music that it means nothing. But a lot of times, most of the successful folks in the business keep working at their craft, they keep working on their music, their own stuff, and then when they’re ready with their own portfolio, then they are able to get those opportunities. But if you just wait for inspiration to strike, you’re just kind of letting your talent grow dormant and just remain untapped. People nowadays don’t care about perfection; they just want someone who can meet deadlines and get work done. If they don’t like your writing, that’s fine. You just need to figure out what you can do better at and just keep writing. Basically, you can’t take things personally and you just need to keep doing a lot of work each day, whether you think it sounds good or not.
Sometimes it’s ok to step away from your work for a few days and come back to it, but a lot of the time you don’t have that luxury, so you just need to keep pushing past that writer’s block and just keep going. This was inspiring because I love to write and have always written since I was young, but I hit a snag in my 20s when I was just done turning in papers for grades and so I became a perfectionist, thinking if I didn’t have experience then it wasn’t worth my time to apply for certain jobs. But a lot of times, when you’re struggling to make ends meet, you’ve got to speak from your heart. Yes, grammar, editing is important, but not everyone has the luxury of just crafting their work until it’s perfect. What’s most important is just working on something, even if you’ve set these unreasonably high expectations for how your writing is supposed to be the first time. Also, you don’t have the luxury of beating yourself up when you have writer’s block. You just have to keep going.
Last night I watched the film Doubt, a period drama based on a play by John Patrick Shanley about a charismatic priest who faces allegations of sexual abuse at the hands of the parish’s head nun. Sister Aloysius, played brilliantly by Meryl Streep, demands order in the parish and will do anything to establish this order, even if it means bopping students on the head while they sleep or talk during Father Flynn’s sermon. Father Flynn, played by Philip Seymour Hoffman, preaches about how, after the year President John F. Kennedy got assassinated, everyone had uncertainty about the fate of the nation, but that this shared doubt is what united everyone because before that, there was all this divisiveness among people. Father Flynn says that “doubt can be a bond as powerful and sustaining as certainty.”
Indeed, this film grapples heavily with the concept of doubt, specifically in the context of sexual abuse. When the parish’s first Black student, Donald Miller, arrives, Father Flynn takes a liking to him and takes him as his pupil. Donald also develops a liking for Father Flynn. However, things get pretty messy when he calls Donald to the rectory and Sister James (played by Amy Adams) finds, out of the corner of her eye while watching her students’ dance rehearsal, Father Flynn putting Donald’s white T-shirt in his locker, implying that Father Flynn molested Donald. When Sister Aloysius hears about this she immediately sets out to campaign against Father Flynn and get him kicked out of the parish. However, Father Flynn says to the two sisters that they are wrongly accusing him of wrongdoing, that no, he didn’t give Donald communion wine and no, that he didn’t have an inappropriate relationship with him. When Sister Aloysius meets with Donald’s mom (played by the always incredibly talented Viola Davis) to tell him that Father Flynn made inappropriate advances toward her son, Donald’s mom tells her that Donald is just trying to survive until he graduates, and that if her husband were to find out about what Flynn did to Donald, then he would literally kill Donald.
The film is important to see not just because of the philosophical theme of doubt and truth, but also because in the #metoo era we need to recognize the experiences of male sexual abuse survivors. Terry Crews, famous actor, spoke out against sexual assault after another man groped him. Anthony Rapp held allegations against Kevin Spacey for making unwanted advances towards him when Rapp was only 14 and Spacey was in his 20s. And just recently, two men came forward with traumatic experiences of the late pop singer Michael Jackson molesting them when they were very young (I have yet to see Leaving Neverland but I can imagine it is quite terrifying considering how much I worshipped MJ as a kid like so many other people). Now of course, people have often tried to associate the entire LGBTQ+ community with these men, and this is another messy discussion in and of itself (in my opinion, it has really harmed people’s perceptions of the LGBTQ+ community when we equate a few individuals’ actions with an entire group of oppressed people. There are plenty of straight men and women who commit similar abuses.) The film’s central premise is sexual abuse, and, while not the main premise, the psychological toll it can take on its survivors. Donald comes back to Sister James’s class from his meeting with Flynn feeling uneasy and ashamed, implying that Flynn did in fact use his position in power to seduce Donald, who was under the age of consent, into letting him push past Donald’s personal boundaries. The film also delves into how people treat allegations of sexual abuse. The #metoo movement, while it has given many women and men the chance to voice their experiences, has also received some backlash. As someone who cannot relate to what victims of sexual abuse have gone through, I at first couldn’t understand why survivors of trauma wouldn’t speak out against their perpetrators, but as I learned more about survivors’ experiences and talked with more people about it, I came to understand that people in positions of authority use intimidation in order to silence the survivors of their abuse and therefore protect their position.
What Father Flynn did, though, is no different from workplace harassment or catcalling on the street. In one scene of the film, he is talking to the parish boys about consent, and they ask him whether or not it’s ok to turn down girls to a school dance. He says it is fine for them to do so, but to also remember to respect girls if they themselves do not want to dance with you. However, this is quite ironic because he made unwanted advances toward Donald in the rectory, even though he tried covering it up by telling the sisters that Father McGuinn caught Donald drinking the communion wine and that Father Flynn was trying to protect Donald from punishment. When Father Flynn is transferred to a different church and promoted to a different position, he tries to cover up what he did with handshakes and charisma, while Donald sits in the pews silently crying. We don’t know whether he is crying at the thought of Flynn leaving or whether he is crying because of what Flynn did to him, so it’s up to the viewer to understand what happened.
After watching this film I remembered that in recent news several reports came forward about Catholic priests, living and dead, who abused children at the church for many years without suffering any kind of punishment for it. Attorney Jeff Anderson revealed in his report that 395 Catholic priests, 6 nuns and several laypeople sexually abused children in several Catholic churches around Illinois (5/28/21: I wrote this back in 2019 so statistics may have changed), and all but one of the abusers are dead or no longer in the ministry. However, as Anderson reports, the list of abusers is far from exhaustive, as a lot of these people not on the list have shrouded their identity from the public so no one would find out about their abuses. The Dioceses of Springfield and Peoria have underestimated these allegation, saying that since they happened decades ago, there is no point in chasing after them, especially since most of the abusers are dead. Anderson made sure though that these abuses received public coverage to show that no, they weren’t made up and that yes, they are still highly relevant today. In February of this year (reminder: I wrote this back in 2019) the Archdiocese reported that more than 100 priests and other clergy staff sexually abused children, and in San Francisco Bay, 263 priests were branded as sexual predators. Some perpetrators were intentionally transferred and retained in trusted positions with direct access to minors even with their history of sexual abuse. In Doubt, Father Flynn gets promoted to a higher position at another church despite his history of abusing minors, so who’s to say he wouldn’t get away with abusing minors in his new position at the new church?
Although Pope Francis called a global summit recently to address the long history of sexual abuse in the Catholic Church, many criticized him for not providing any direct solutions to addressing the issue. Many activists said that while he acknowledged the sexual abuse, he did not implement any policies that would tackle it head on, such as a zero-tolerance policy or even having the Pope actually release the church files of abusive priests. Still, even though there is much more to be done about the sexual abuse in the Church, it was a huge step for the Pope, considering that the Church has kept these abuses hidden away for many, many years until now. While these cases had been hidden, the abuse took a serious psychological toll on its survivors, and these survivors shared their experiences during the summit of enduring depression, anxiety, eating disorders, and suicidal thoughts after the clergy raped them. Even though the film does not go into direct detail about the serious impact Father Flynn’s abuse had on Donald’s self-esteem, it is clear that it traumatized him. After Sister Aloysius calls him out for his abuses, Father Flynn delivers a sermon about a woman who gossiped about a man she didn’t like, and God came to her and haunted her forever because she gossiped, telling her that spreading rumors about someone was a sin. Pope Francis called gossip “the devil’s weapon” after he defended a Chilean bishop accused of sexual abuse, saying that talking about someone’s abuses was slander that caused divisions within the Church (he later accepted the bishop’s resignation after an outcry from abuse survivors in Chile). However, the film wrestles with a very important question, one that Sister Aloysius addresses in great length: is it really slander if you’re speaking out against an injustice? Sister Aloysius tells Sister James that “when you take a step to address a wrongdoing, you are taking a step away from God, but in his service.” Yes, some traditional people may argue that revealing someone’s inappropriate behavior to the public is slander, but today we live in a world where sexual harassment policies are a lot stricter because more survivors of sexual violence have come forth with their actual detailed accounts of what happened to them. It may seem as if one is going against their traditions or culture by speaking up against injustice, but you are helping someone else by addressing the injustice done to them. Then again, the movie raises more questions: if people speak out against injustice, should they be aware of any injustice they themselves might have committed? Father Flynn grills Sister Aloysius by asking if she ever sinned when she continues to burn him, and she immediately is rendered speechless and admits to past wrongdoing. The movie also asks: what role has doubt played in how we treat cases of sexual violence?
Of course, I have to read more on these questions to really understand their depth, but seeing this movie raises a very important thought-provoking discussion about power and the individuals who abuse it, and the power of silence, what happens when someone doesn’t feel they have the power to speak up because their perpetrator took it away from them? How does doubt affect the ways we tell the stories of abuse survivors? Whose side should we trust? A mentor is supposed to lift someone up, not make someone feel small. A mentor is supposed to respect someone’s boundaries, not overstep them. But what happens when that mentor uses charisma and their loud voice to make themselves feel justified in abusing others? All of these questions are incredibly important and kept me up all night well after the film’s fittingly stark-looking credits rolled. Overall, brilliant movie. I will have to read the play by John Patrick Shanley next. Can I mention again how much I love Meryl Streep’s acting? 🙂
Anne screaming bloody murder when she is suffering with gout is me when I have period cramps. Even with our increasingly unaffordable health care system in the U.S. I at least appreciate that we have doctors and medicines. Oh, and Advil because cramps are no joke. Back then, all they could really do was put mashed-up herbs and raw meat on gout wounds. Sounds very painful.
Seeing Rachel Weisz and Nicholas Hoult in About a Boy was delightful and sweet. Rachel plays a single mom who befriends Marcus. In The Favourite they couldn’t have played more different characters. In several scenes Harley (played by Hoult) cusses out Sarah (Rachel Weisz) and threatens her. She just calmly insults him right back. When the insults become too much Harley stands up and actually stares Sarah down. It is seriously one of the most intense moments in the film, and shows the breadth of the actors and what they are willing to play. Rachel and Nicholas seriously are great actors and gave excellent performances, and I am totally sure it was a blast for them to work together on a comedy that, unlike About a Boy, was anything but sweet and touching.
The camera lens and lighting were seriously on point in this film. In quite a few scenes, they make the camera lens sort of spherical, very MC Escher, and this sort of gives a closed-in tight feeling for the viewer because it forces us to focus in on just the people being filmed, and not so much the surroundings. Also, Yorgos wanted to have minimal lighting, so he uses pretty much natural sunlight from the windows throughout the film. When some of the actors wanted to know when the lights were going to be turned on (as in “lights, camera, action”) he said to them “This is the lighting.” It’s very much like The Lobster, where the lack of lighting gave the film its overall ominous mood. It’s one of the things that I really enjoy about Yorgos’s films because it allows the viewer to focus on the characters’ development throughout the film and not so much the glitteriness of the lighting.
I really loved the music for this film. There is a common theme playing during the most suspenseful scenes of the film: a single G, with a string instrument (probably a violin or viola) playing a tremolo bowing, which means that the bow stays in one place on the string and goes really fast, producing a suspenseful sound. And intermittent with the G is a plucked G (in some cases, I heard the G of a piano). The music that I’m talking about starts at 1:09 in the trailer.
What makes this film’s music so excellent is that it is very simple. Even with the Handel, Bach and Vivaldi concertos and sonatas that play throughout the film, we still have this very simple theme that doesn’t require a lot of instrumentation but still keeps us on edge whenever there is a suspenseful scene. Yorgos also uses very austere but beautiful-sounding classical pieces in The Lobster to convey the darkness of the film.
I just got done with the film Loving. I had been meaning to see it when it came out three years ago, but I never got around to it. Fortunately, last weekend I went on a binge with movie rentals from the library, and Loving was on the shelves, so I picked it up.
I am so incredibly glad I saw this film, because honestly I can’t really remember if I studied it in my U.S. history classes in school, or even my Africana Studies courses in college. We often learn about Brown vs. Board of Education and Plessy vs. Ferguson, but until Loving came out, this was my first time hearing about the ruling. Loving vs. Virginia (1967) ruled that people couldn’t discriminate against interracial couples, and in June (the same month as LGBT Pride month) Loving Day is recognized for transforming the way society viewed marriage equality.
The film Loving is based on the true story of Richard, a white man, and his Black-Native American wife Mildred, who lived in a rural community of Virginia called Central Point and are expecting their first child. They get married in 1958 in Washington, D.C., and begin raising their family; Richard is also planning the house he is building for him and Mildred. They live their normal lives as an average couple, until one night police officers brutally arrest them and lock them up in jail for living with each other. This takes an emotional toll on the couple, and when they are finally let free, they are told that they can either divorce or leave the state of Virginia. They decide to leave for a new life in Washington, D.C. Mildred goes into labor and tells Richard she wants his mother back in Central Point to deliver the baby. When they go back, he returns to the same comments from both white and Black people in the community: that he got Mildred in trouble simply for marrying her at a time when the Racial Integrity Act made it illegal for any person of color to marry a white person. Nevertheless, his mom helps Mildred deliver the baby, but then the couple gets arrested yet again and are released a second and final time after the lawyer tells the judge he told them he could return to Virginia even after they were told before that they couldn’t come back to Virginia. Frustrated with the wider problem of systemic racism and inspired by watching the Civil Rights movement in D.C., Mildred writes to John F. Kennedy about the discrimination she and Richard faced. John F. Kennedy refers her to the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), and lawyers Bernard Cohen and Phil Hirschkop help them get their case to the Supreme Court. At first, Richard doesn’t agree with Mildred that they should make their case public, but after seeing how much happier his wife is, he decides that it is all for the best and supports the case going to the Supreme Court. Unfortunately, seven years after the case won, Richard was killed by a drunk driver. His wife continued to live in the house Richard built for her until her death in 2008.
What really captivated me most about this film was its use of silence and lack of dialogue. I had to learn more about the film after watching it simply because unlike many films about Supreme Court cases where someone is running around, there is a lot of dialogue and debate, and at least one person has to be the loudest in the room, Loving shows that even the most introverted people can speak the loudest through their deeds behind the scenes. Colin Firth (yes, the Colin Firth. I squealed when I saw him listed as one of the producers of the film!) said that what makes this film about racism so unique is that the film doesn’t feature a lot of violence, explosions or high-stakes Jim Crow racism, but instead uses the long periods of non-verbal expression to build a “slow-burning menace” throughout the film. And don’t get me wrong; I love dialogue in films, and during the Civil Rights movement, silence was never going to protect you in the long run if you were a Black person during that rough time. But Jeff Nichols specifically wanted to make this film about the impact of the case on Richard and Mildred’s lives instead of depicting the entirety of the ruling. Indeed, I think it was much more effective to focus on their marriage rather than witnessing a mostly-white jury talking about their marriage, and also to make use of the silences rather than fill them with dialogue. Otherwise, it would have been like any movie with a huge court case scene. We don’t really get to gain insight into the individuals’ thought processes because the court is speaking for them, so I really like how Jeff wanted to focus on the marriage of Richard and Mildred so that we could appreciate these precious moments of quiet intimacy between them. Richard and Mildred speak a language of their own through their facial expressions, their kisses, their embraces, and even though they don’t show the actual court ruling going down, we see how these scenes just between Richard and Mildred, and the moments with their kids, cannot be separated from its political and social context.
As a quiet person who has a passion to fight for climate change, racial justice or LGBTQ+ rights, seeing this film taught me that even if you are shy and/or introverted, you can still shake the world, like Gandhi said. Mildred and Richard were in real life quiet people, and Jeff wanted to truly depict what life was like for these two individuals, so he cast actors who both looked like the people involved in the case and who could also embody these people and stay true to their stories. I really was hoping Ruth Negga would win an Oscar for her role in this film because she speaks volumes through her worn, quiet expression throughout the film. When we see Joel play Richard, we get a profound sense of how hard his feelings are to describe in words. His expression is one of constant thought, and as Nick Kroll, who plays Bernard “Bernie” Cohen, noted that he has more lines than Richard even though he isn’t the main person in the forefront of the story. This is actually one of the few films I have seen that actually pays tribute to the introverts who made a difference in the Civil Rights struggle. We hear about Rosa Parks, but that’s really about it. We need to hear more about those people in the movement who weren’t always in the demonstrations, who were in their rural communities just living their lives. Richard and Mildred did a lot for the Civil Rights movement simply by living their lives as a married couple at a time when racial integration was still seen as taboo. And they weren’t super extroverted people. Even writing to the president or your Congress representatives can make a huge difference (especially nowadays, in a world that’s just going to keep becoming more technologically advanced day by day), and when Mildred first initiated the conversation with President Kennedy, it led to more opportunities for the couple to have their voices heard.
The music score also works really well with the film’s effective use of non-verbal communication. The strings play drone notes for the most part, and it reminded me of the film score for Arrival, the theme of which are just a few long notes played over and over again, but getting louder each time. The film is about a female researcher who is trying to cope with the death of her daughter and communicates with extraterrestrials that seem threatening to humankind, and it’s really a film about how we need to have face to face dialogue so that people can develop trust in one another. The music for Arrival is somber and goes along well with the film’s overall serious thought-provoking subject matter. Similarly, the use of largo (when a piece is played slow and long) for the score in Loving expresses the deep thought the film puts you in. This film makes you think, especially because the silences throughout the film allow for such deep thought. The music also didn’t play much during many of the dialogues, similar to A Ghost Story, which didn’t need a big orchestral film score because it was a story about reflecting on the loss of a loved one, so viewers needed the silent space just to have that time to reflect.
One scene that really stuck with me is when Richard comes home after drinking with his buddies. Richard is the only white person sitting with his friends, who are all Black. While drunk, one of the guys jokes that Richard thinks he’s Black just because he hangs out with Black people all the time, and that he should divorce Mildred so that they won’t get followed everywhere anymore. But then Richard comes home and quietly sits with Mildred on the edge of the bed, and thinking about what he said at the bar about agreeing to divorce Mildred, he slowly breaks down into tears, and Mildred gently wraps her arms around him. He tells her through his tears that he is going to care for her even in a tumultuous time. While I didn’t cry through the film, this one scene almost got me choked up because it is just so real and raw to see Richard, who is normally quiet and stoic-looking, convey his pain and frustration through tears. This incredibly intimate moment shows how incredibly important this case was, and how messed-up it would be if Richard and Mildred Loving had never fallen in love or gotten married, or even took their case to the Supreme Court. Joel Edgerton and Ruth Negga both brought this incredibly mature and self-aware humanity to such profound roles, and it is truly moving to see them recreate this sensitive humanity so naturally. Neither Mildred nor Richard wanted to be considered heroes even though their case made the Supreme Court, and I am so glad Jeff Nichols wanted to stay true to this. We see several reporters gather around Richard and Mildred when they are walking down the street, and although Mildred is slightly okay with answering the reporters’ questions, Richard is not as interested, and so he leads him and her away from the conundrum.
The film made me think a lot about the Ad Council’s Love Has No Labels campaign, and how we take those commercials for granted, when it’s really the Loving vs. Virginia case that launched the discussion on embracing different expressions of love even if it happened a few decades ago. Even though people are more progressive now, there are still people who don’t like interracial marriage, LGBTQ+ marriage or any marriage that seems to not conform with the white heteronormative definition of marriage. While this film specifically delves into the institution of race-based discrimination against interracial couples, it made me think about how important this case was for LGBTQ+ people and the legalization of same-sex marriage. Richard and Mildred’s narrative is something that we should study more in schools. The mere words of this post simply cannot convey how truly incredible this film was.
I was kind of down on my luck with the music career thing, so I wanted to see a movie that would inspire me to keep at it. I checked out The Soloist at the library because a friend told me about it, but I had wanted to read the book first before seeing the movie. I went ahead and saw it though because I just wanted to have some inspiration so that every day of practice didn’t feel like a grind.
After seeing this film, I can say it taught me to appreciate my musical playing more. It is based on the true story of double bassist Nathaniel Ayers, who attended Julliard but dropped out after developing symptoms of schizophrenia and suffering a nervous breakdown. Steve Lopez, a columnist for The Los Angeles Times, is struggling to keep his job and a good rapport with his coworker and ex-wife Mary. He finds Nathaniel playing a two-stringed violin under a statue of composer Ludwig van Beethoven in downtown Los Angeles. Nathaniel ran away from home after dropping out of Julliard, and is homeless. Steve is just focused on getting an interesting story for the newspaper so he can gain some credibility and feel good about himself, but Nathaniel doesn’t care about everyone else’s ideas of success. Steve contacts everyone who knew Nathaniel at some point: the Julliard Admissions Office, Nathaniel’s sister Jennifer. An elderly woman even donates her cello to Nathaniel (in the film, he plays the cello; in real life he played the double bass).
The movie addresses a lot of important issues: how able-bodied people treat individuals with mental illness, supporting homeless individuals, the idea of a successful music career, and the experiences of Black music students in predominantly white spaces. In the film, we flash back to when Nathaniel is at Julliard and he enjoys his time there at first, but then he develops symptoms of schizophrenia and has a hard time getting through his orchestra rehearsal because he hears voice telling him to leave Julliard and that he should give up his dreams. Now of course, actor portrayals of people with mental illness cannot speak for all real-life individual experiences with mental illness (serious props to Jamie Foxx though for going through such a difficult acting process. I was watching the special features of the DVD that talk about the film’s production, and Jamie said this role really took a lot out of him and his emotions because it was such a moving role to play and also was difficult in terms of playing the cello. From lived experience, I can tell you learning cello is no easy feat, so additional props to Jamie).
But at the least, the film shows how hard it can be living with any form of mental illness. There has been this “tortured artist” myth which somehow makes it seem like you just have to have a mental illness to be considered a real artist, that mental illness fosters artistic genius. I remember watching an interview by composer Nico Muhly and he said that people need to stop making it seem that mental illness is the reason behind artists’ genius. It’s not. Having depression is a day-in-day-out struggle, and while we use our art as a means of catharsis, one should never have to go through a suicidal breakdown in order to create meaningful art. Believe me, I’m living proof. Depression actually stifled my creativity. It told me I wasn’t a true artist, that I should give up. Nathaniel’s schizophrenia deters him from playing in front of people, it just straight up ruins his life. It wasn’t until I learned to treat my depression that I used my past suffering as inspiration for how I express myself when playing music.
The movie also made me think about how we define success as musicians. We typically think of success as making money and playing in front of lots of people in a packed concert hall, and while that is a mainstream definition of success, it’s not the only definition of success. When Nathaniel is with the other members of the LAMP community outside on the steps (5/24/21: I was curious what LAMP stood for and it originally stood for Los Angeles’ Men’s Place), his cello playing brings everyone together and lets people have that time and space to relax and contemplate. When Steve is sitting outside with him on the sidewalk and first gives Nathaniel the cello to play, he at first tries to give Nathaniel to stop playing after five minutes but then comes to understand that for Nathaniel, after running away from the competitive environment of music conservatory, music is his home. Music defines Nathaniel’s existence and survival. When he attends the rehearsal at the Walt Disney Concert Hall, he feels comfortable because it is just him and Steve instead of lots of people.
However, when Graham Claydon, the principal cellist of the L.A. Philharmonic, has Nathaniel perform for his first ever recital, Nathaniel flashes back to those tortuous days at Julliard and panics when Graham, who is a religious man, tries to get him to pray before heading on stage, and flees from Graham and the audience. While I don’t fully relate to Nathaniel, I remember how stressful my first professional orchestra audition was. When I auditioned for my college campus’s orchestra, I didn’t feel nervous because I knew I was going to still join the orchestra, and that the audition was just to determine which seat I would be in for the season. However, before my professional orchestra audition (this was after college), my depression got horrible and my anxiety went through the roof. I cried a lot, I remember feeling dead before the audition, the inner critic telling me I should jump off a cliff because I would never make it in the orchestra. I still played for the judges and did my best, but I remember still shaking even after the audition. For my second professional orchestra audition it wasn’t nearly as bad, but I still felt like I was going to vomit. My hands were shaking and my heart was pounding. I know nerves are normal, but while I played I couldn’t shake them. After getting rejected by the orchestra, I stopped playing much and stopped auditioning for orchestras. When I had my first recital in three years, I tried everything I could to stay calm beforehand, but when I got into the small recital hall, I felt once again like I was going to vomit. Nathaniel’s experience playing outside versus playing in a concert hall where everyone’s eyes are on you at all times taught me that we shouldn’t limit venues for classical music to concert halls, and while concert halls are nice, they are not always accessible or pleasant environments for musicians. I think Nathaniel’s experience also reminded me that community is just as important as the individual. Anyone of any career can get wrapped up in ideas of their own success, but classical musicians tend to do this a lot. And for young Black musicians, being in spaces where they don’t see anyone who looks like them is a challenging experience, especially if those students deal with both microaggressions and macroaggressions from non-Black musicians. While more orchestras and classical music organizations are addressing the issue of racial diversity, we still need to keep talking about it and recognize each individual Black musician’s experience. Of course, every Black classical musician can’t speak for each other’s experiences; some may feel ok in predominantly white spaces, other Black classical musicians may have had terrible experiences. Racial diversity in classical music is a topic that I have been thinking about it for some time, and I want to continue educating myself and talking about it.
Noa Kageyama wrote this piece called “Do Classical Musicians Get More Nervous Than Non-Classical Musicians (And If So, Why?)” and he explores performance anxiety in classical musicians versus non-classical musicians. Researchers did this study and found that while classical musicians experienced more performance anxiety and had less fun performing in front of people, they enjoyed practicing a lot. Most likely because when you’re a classical musician in a traditional music setting, you go off to a practice room by yourself, practice a few hours or more, and then you go out to perform. And of course, musicians of other genres do spend quite a bit of time on their craft, but they mainly focus on their performance experience and how to brush off nerves when performing. It’s why I enjoyed playing with orchestra or chamber music ensembles though because the focus was never on myself but on how the group functioned. Practicing is of course important, but if you get wrapped up in the idea of being perfect or good enough for people, or how you measure up to other musicians, it becomes more of an egotistical thing rather than doing the work of making music. We always need to strive for improvement, but when you’re going through a rough patch you want to transcend the idea that you should only play perfectly, and play music because you love it. Nathaniel, being away from the uptight music environment of college, gets to have a genuine human interaction with the composers he admires through playing his music outside of the concert hall. He isn’t worried about success, he loves playing music for its own sake, not to show off his talent or make lots of money. I think that when you transcend that ego-centered state of “Is everyone going to like my music?” you feel physically, emotionally and spiritually better.
Now, of course, I don’t want to romanticize Nathaniel being homeless. In fact, things are seeming to get problematic with regard to legislation around homelessness. Just yesterday, Steve Lopez wrote a piece about how the mayor of Los Angeles, Eric Garcetti, wasn’t following up on his promises to address homelessness in the city with concrete solutions. Even though the LA government spent $16 billion to address the homeless population, homelessness still has increased by 16 percent. Lopez presents alternatives that organizations have used to provide access to resources for homeless people, such as SHARE, a nonprofit that finds homes for people and helps them move into these homes and find employment. Even though these programs like SHARE help, City Hall doesn’t provide much support, so it’s hard for them to expand. Now, as Lopez points out, Garcetti has been taking lots of initiative to address the increasing homeless population in L.A. and has fought tirelessly for more funding and more housing. Moreover, the power is divided between city and county agencies, so Mayor Garcetti can’t just do what he wants all the time. However, Lopez says that Garcetti should keep searching for other ways to address the needs of homeless citizens of Los Angeles and get at the true root of why these citizens are not getting adequate care they need, such as access to mental health resources.
Even though the film The Soloist came out a decade ago, it is still relevant to discussions on injustice, and has encouraged me to do more as a musician to bring social justice to the people. And here is an NPR piece on the book and film adaptation.
The Soloist. 2009. Rated PG-13 for thematic elements, some drug use and language.
Disclaimer: this post cannot do justice to what happened to Oscar Grant or any unarmed Black or Brown person who has been murdered at the hands of police.
I just finished watching the 2013 film Fruitvale Station. If you have not seen it yet, I highly recommend it (5/23/21 edits: I also rewatched the trailer and just remembered that Forest Whitaker produced it. He’s one of my favorite actors. Also I realized there’s a reason Billie Eilish keeps saying in each of her Vanity Fair interviews that Fruitvale Station is her favorite movie, and it wasn’t until I saw the film that I appreciated this point).
It is a powerful drama based on the true account of the late Oscar Grant, a 22 year old Black man who died at the hands of a white police officer on New Year’s Day in 2009. Before seeing Fruitvale Station, I saw the film Black Panther. For that film, Michael B. Jordan starred opposite of Chadwick Boseman in a powerful performance, and Ryan Coogler directed the film, with Ludwig Goransson producing the score for the film. Black Panther is an uplifting movie, and it’s a film that, while political in the sense that it’s one of the few superhero movies that features an all-Black cast, is really a feel-good movie that I left feeling empowered and happy watching. I also remember Melonie Diaz from the comedy Be Kind, Rewind. In Fruitvale Station her performance almost moved me to tears.
Fruitvale Station will stick with me for a pretty long time (which it should do, because discussions about social injustice are hard to talk about). It shows how it’s not easy to blame all white people or all Black people for racism. Instead, it shows how crucial it is to know the full story, because it’s individuals that cause disharmony, not an entire group of people. For instance, there’s a scene where Sophina, Oscar’s girlfriend, and Oscar are partying with their friends on the subway to San Francisco to celebrate New Year’s. When they don’t get back in time, every passenger on the train-white, Black, Latinx, Asian, gay, straight–all unite together in saying “Happy New Year” when midnight strikes. Oscar doesn’t hate white people even though he lives in a predominantly Black and Latinx neighborhood, and even strikes up conversations with white individuals, particularly a young woman named Katie and a married man whose wife is pregnant. Oscar asks a shop-owner to let in Sophina and her friend so they can use the bathroom, and the store owner, at first refusing, lets them in to use the bathroom. When a pregnant lady and her husband come up and the lady has to pee, too, Oscar asks the store owner if he can let her in, too. While waiting for his wife, the guy, Peter, chats with Oscar about how he was out of work for a while and now runs his own web design business. When she’s finished, they part ways like they were old pals. Moments like these, when Oscar is talking with these individuals, when Oscar is spending time with his family before going onto the train, shows how devastating the impact Oscar’s murder had on his loved ones and on people he just met.
This film is also crucial because it shows the psychological toll that police brutality has had on not just communities of individuals, but on individuals themselves. Even just a few seconds after shooting Oscar, the police officer realizes, too late, the consequences of his actions. It reminds me of the film Detroit, which didn’t show the Civil Rights movement itself, but a scene that belongs in a horror movie (I would even argue that Fruitvale Station and Detroit count as horror movies because they show the horrors of racism). One of the cops gets in trouble because he basically just shoots at just about every Black person coming home from getting groceries or just going about their daily lives. The film also shows how the business of police brutality messes up officers of color, particularly Black police officers faced with confronting Black individuals accused of wrongdoing. Implicit bias is real, and the guy who started the fight with Oscar ended up staying on the subway and got off scot-free, while Oscar and his friends didn’t because the police didn’t actually see the guy initiating the fight. This guy was an old inmate of Oscar’s and fought with him on numerous occasions, and the fact that he didn’t get in trouble makes me so mad.
Then again, this film brings up a lot of complicated discussions about racism and police brutality. A lot of people were divided about the Black Lives Matter movement because they assumed that it said that only the lives of Black individuals mattered. However, this is not what the Black Lives Matter movement was trying to say. As the film shows, yes, we know, it’s a given, everyone matters, and it’s also important to understand that some lives are given less social value than others. This is why it’s important for us to talk about uncomfortable topics like racial injustice because it’s not just Black people’s problem, it’s our entire nation’s problem and always has been. All lives matter, and also, don’t forget Black lives in that equation. White, Black, Brown, whatever our race, it’s hard to not talk about it because we live a racial reality every day. Because of our nation’s history of dividing people up by how others perceive them, we have to deal with this messy discussion around race and race-based prejudice. The only way we’re going to come to terms with these tough issues like police brutality against unarmed Black citizens is if we just talk about it and also educate ourselves on racism if we haven’t done so already. Fruitvale Station opens up this discussion and forces us to reckon with its festering historical wounds of slavery and Jim Crow, but they’re wounds that frank unabashed discussions can heal, even if it’s inch by inch.
So I talked earlier in my review of the film The Lobster how I wanted to see it before watching The Favourite. Boy, am I glad I did. Like I said in the last post, Yorgos Lanthimos’ films are unconventional and it sometimes helps to watch film directors’ previous work to understand their style and their direction for their movies.
So lucky for me, I went to the library after work this Friday to check out some books, when I saw it on the Too Hot to Hold display. A copy of The Favourite. I nearly squealed loudly in the quiet of that library; I was just too goshdarn excited to contain my enthusiasm. It was here, even if I could only check it out for three days (it’s due tomorrow). And as far as I knew, for this weekend, this genius film was mine.
But something held me back from watching it, and that is the vomit scenes. I had read on Kids in Mind that the film features at least four scenes of people throwing up. I am a classic emetophobe who checks every movie’s Blood and Gore section in the parent review to see if there are any gross vomit scenes. My irrational fear of vomit onscreen (and in real life) was the sheer reason I held up my hand up to the screen the entire first thirty minutes of the film. And let me tell you, it ruined it for me, but not too much. I needed to go back anyway to really get what Queen Anne and Sarah were talking about with England’s war against the French. So I closed my eyes during the vomiting scenes (which, thankfully, I could anticipate) and frankly they weren’t that bad (for my fellow emetophobes, the first one being when Queen Anne is eating cake. Close your eyes.) I thought, since this is an absurdist film the vomiting scenes are going to be blown out of proportion, and it’s probably going to be like that dude in Monty Python who pukes in that restaurant (ain’t even gonna Google it again, and I suggest you not either). So honestly, they weren’t bad, and with that I give you my actual review of the film.
First of all, I just want to say: I have a lot of feelings about this film, mainly good ones. If you haven’t seen the film, basically it takes place in 18th century England, and while it’s based on actual people, historians continue to poke and prod at its historical accuracy. Anne is a woman who is having a hard time maintaining her dignity as a royal; she suffers from gout, she can’t keep her food down her digestive system, and she is just all-around irritable. She basically feels like she has no power anymore. Her friend Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough, maintains a rather controlling relationship with Anne, and constantly tells her she’s acting childish. However, Anne also suffers great loss (she lost 17 children, each represented by her 17 pet rabbits) and feels lonely all the time. When Sarah’s cousin, Abigail Hill, comes to the Queen looking for work as a servant, she is immediately hired. At first, the Queen pays no mind to Abigail, but as the story goes on, they grow to be increasingly involved with each other. Sarah doesn’t like Abigail snooping into her friendship with Queen Anne, but after Abigail catches her and Anne making out in a private room after an elegant banquet (and subsequently tells Sarah she knows about their relationship) things get heated and Sarah and Abigail find themselves competing for the favor (and sexual attraction) of the Queen.
After seeing this film, I couldn’t help but think: what film about female companionship can I compare this to? I guess Abigail and Olive from Professor Marston and the Wonder Women were similar in the sense that they both seem impressionable and naïve but actually hold their own throughout the film and don’t take nonsense from other people. Maybe Andy Sachs from The Devil Wears Prada because Andy seems like a sad little person to Miranda Priestly and Nigel, but is actually quite determined to take Miranda’s cold and icy manner (both Olivia Colman and Meryl Streep really kill it playing women in charge). I could even think of Abigail as an 18th century Cady Heron from Mean Girls. However, none of these comparisons would be fair because The Favourite is a movie all its own. If you really want to understand why this is the case, if you have the DVD watch the 22 minute special feature where the cast and crew talk about the film and why it’s so stinking brilliant. As the cast and crew describe Yorgos’s film, this isn’t your average 18th century period film. It could have been a documentary about Anne’s life but Yorgos didn’t want that. He wanted to have fun with the film, not stick to every fact and figure. Of course, this made a lot of history buffs mad and I would argue sometimes you need to draw a fine line between taking someone’s story and then messing with it to the detriment of someone’s life (such as with Green Book. Instead of watching the film, I decided to just enjoy Don Shirley’s music because there was so much racial backlash against the film. Maybe I’ll see it someday, but for now, not going to do that).
But that’s the whole point: this isn’t supposed to be a detailed documentary about Anne’s life; we’re talking about Yorgos Lanthimos here, the man who produced a dystopian film about a world in which single people are turned into animals if they do not find a partner within 45 days. It is inevitable that he is going to make his actors do things they normally wouldn’t do, eschewing perfectionism and conventionally for messiness and originality. All of the cast members of The Favourite–Rachel Weisz, Emma Stone, James Smith, Joe Alwyn, Olivia Colman–they all agree that Yorgos knows what he wants and doesn’t apologize for it. He wanted them to act without asking questions or trying to stick to classical acting technique. And that’s what made The Lobster and this film absolutely brilliant. Not to mention the fact that Yorgos says in the DVD’s special feature that he wanted to have three incredibly strong-willed complex women at the forefront of the film instead of men running the show. If you notice throughout the film, Nicholas Hoult’s, James’s, and Joe’s roles are very peripheral and don’t really hold much sway in the film, even when Robert Harley becomes the new prime minister and constantly tries to make Anne feel like she’s delusional and in the wrong. Yes, sure it was messed up that Anne wanted to continue the war rather than go with Harley’s call for a peace treaty, but the point of the film was to subvert traditional stories of women letting these men call the shots and make Harley look like the delusional baby who throws temper tantrums when he doesn’t get his way. Lanthimos wanted to show that this story is very relevant to today’s standards, even though it takes place in the 18th century, because there are a few people whose decisions can sway the trajectory of wider society. In other words, the film shows how the personal is political, and what seems like private biz can actually impact the decisions that people in power make.
I first heard about the concept “the personal is political” after taking a Black Studies course on Black female activists. In the course we read autobiographies by Audre Lorde, Zora Neale Hurston and Angela Davis, and discussed heavily the phrase “the personal is political.” For years out of college, I find myself watching the film’s special feature and the cast talking about The Favourite’s sexual politics and I immediately thought, Oh my gosh! This film could be a whole dissertation on the personal is political! For some background info, Carol Hanisch wrote a 1969 essay titled “The Personal is Political”, in which she talks about the history of feminism and how, during her activism, both men and women in the progressive group she was a part of criticized any woman who tried to bring personal issues, such as body image or sex, into activism because they didn’t think of those issues as being on par with the struggles for women’s equal pay and other social issues. These critics said that women should basically just get over themselves and focus on the world’s problems rather than their own. Hanisch argues that issues that seem to only be about women’s personal lives actually play a pretty huge role in women’s activism because the media often tells women how they should express their sexuality and live their lives, while ignoring any resistance they have to be pigeonholed into these traditional roles.
Anne’s struggles may seem like First World Problems; she struggles with her self-image and needs Sarah and Abigail to make her feel beautiful. She has a hard time leading the country even when she has a seriously debilitating illness. And she feels unfulfilled as a queen even with all these servants and people to listen to her speeches. However, her sexual relationships with both Sarah and Abigail play a huge role in the decisions she makes for the country. She finds herself agreeing with Sarah all the time because Sarah forces her to believe the way she does, but then Anne falls in love with Abigail and suddenly she starts trusting Abigail’s political opinion and dismissing Sarah’s. Anne’s seemingly insignificant issues with her self-image really do impact how she leads the country because she closes herself away in her room instead of wanting to take full charge over the political decisions, even trying to commit suicide at one point because she’s just so sick of life. We normally think of queens as these stately people who have their stuff together and don’t let their personal lives get in the way of their reigning, but what I love about this film is that Anne doesn’t have her stuff together. She is a messy human being with thoughts and feelings, and her personal life is very much tied to her political life. And that’s how it is in real life; I could list several examples. Anne’s sexuality, bad health and bad temper shape her identity and sense of self, which is actually pretty empowering because then, as the viewer, we get to view her as an extremely well-rounded character just as we do Sarah and Abigail rather than as merely this grumpy lady who ruled England. Anne also doesn’t need a man to make her feel like an empowered woman who can hold her own; she’s got two incredibly lovely women who are also quite in love with her, and so she gets an opportunity to defy heteronormative standards that dictate the only relationship she should have is a straight one.
In one of the film’s most poignant scenes, Abigail is admiring Anne’s seventeen rabbits, and Anne tells her that each rabbit represents a child she lost. When she had kids, Anne miscarried. Her babies were stillborn and those who lived died really young. Anne’s grief takes an extremely psychological toll on her, especially when, in the last scene, Anne forces Abigail to get on her knees like she did when she was a servant and rub Anne’s leg since she is pain from the gout, and slowly, with ominous piano music playing in the background, the close-up of Abigail slowly falling apart emotionally, after realizing how little Anne actually cares for her in the end, gradually becomes overshadowed with Anne’s seventeen bunnies hopping around Anne’s room. These bunnies represent the loss and emotional overwhelming Anne feels at that crucial moment; the death of her children, her complex relationships with Anne and Abigail, her struggle for political power hit Anne at once. At first, when Melissa McCarthy came to the Oscar stage dressed in Anne’s coat with 17 bunnies on it while presenting the Oscar for Costume Design, I laughed. But after seeing this film, I have a hard time laughing at Melissa’s costume, even though I know it was played for laughs, because the context of these bunnies is dark and, to be honest, quite depressing. The so-called “personal problems” that Hanisch talks about in her essay were often viewed as just that, personal women’s issues. Hanisch says “as a movement woman, I’ve been pressured to be strong, self-less, other-oriented, sacrificing, and in general pretty much in control of my own life. To admit to the problems in my life is to be deemed weak.” (Hanisch, “The Personal is Political” (Feb. 1969)
However, losing children was a very political issue; people felt pity for Anne because she seemed to be this hopeless, childless woman who was mentally ill and delusional about everything. However, as we see in the film, even though she lost her children, she is still aware of the power she holds as a queen. We can see it from the burning jealous look she silently gives Sarah while Sarah is dancing with Masham. Anne is jealous because she actually loves Sarah not just as a friend but as a lover, and she uses her position to bark at the two of them to stop dancing so that Sarah can lead Anne back to her room and the two of them can get it on without the court spying on them. She is an 18th century version of Beyonce’s Lemonade, throwing her middle fingers up and saying “Boy, bye” to any man who tries to talk down to her, dishing out disses so fast you’d have to rewind the movie a couple of times just to feel the burn every time she says them. Heck, all the women in the film have a smart sarcastic wit that you just cannot mess with. The one scene in which the diss is at its peak epicness is when Sarah suddenly shoots at Abigail and tells her, in a cutting voice, that it’s hard to tell whether a gun is actually loaded or not and basically tells her to stay away from her and Anne. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they played “Backstabbers” by The O’Jays because there is so much backstabbing and throwing shade left and right you would think this was an 18th century version of some epic rap battle.
The only thing that bugged me about the film (and if you have 20/20 vision I’m sure you could read the lettering better than I did) was the spacing and size of the lettering in the end credits. I am not saying I absolutely hated the lettering in the end credits; I get it, the whole style of formatting for the font was supposed to be austere and dark, like the film, so they made the text white, fragmented and with various sizes and alignments of lettering when they listed the production companies and Roman-numeraled titles of the film’s multiple parts. However, when I tried to read the end credits I nearly strained my vision in just five minutes and didn’t think I would ever gain my vision again. I know it was cool to not have literally rolling credits in The Lobster, you can’t make the font all wonky, apply the same non-rolling effects, and expect people will enjoy reading it. The few things I did make out during those end credits:
Ryan Gosling was in the special thanks portion. His was the first and only name I could make out. I thought, Wait, the Ryan Gosling? Maybe Emma Stone told him she was making this super-dope queer love story that takes place in the 18th century England and Ryan, was like, Oh cool, I’m down!
I recognized that Elton John was singing the harpsichord version of “Skyline Pigeon” in the credits. His was also one of the few names I could make out.
However, I will say I liked how this time in the credits, instead of last time like in The Lobster, they actually admitted to ensuring that the animals in the film were being taken care of. Like The Lobster, we see animal cruelty at its finest (again, Yorgos, don’t worry I won’t call PETA on you lol): Emma Stone nearly crushing a bunny to death with her high heel, birds getting tossed into the air and shot for sport, lobsters being raced before turning into food, and ducks racing in a palace while a bunch of royals enthusiastically shout and cheer during the game in a rather exaggerated slow-mo. However, unlike The Lobster, they didn’t want to hurt these darling animals. In The Lobster, the animal cruelty is waaay more pronounced and it goes unacknowledged in the credits. I doubt PETA was knocking on his door, but I’m sure someone expressed their discomfort with harming animals to Yorgos and embraced it.
When I first saw The Favourite trailer, it was in a showing of Wonder Woman and all the trailers featured women playing strong complex characters with interesting backstories. I’m pretty sure Alita: Battle Angel and some other feministy films were the previews, but all I remember is watching the trailer for The Favourite and getting excited for it immediately after watching it. I feel so fortunate this film came out. Overall, a very brilliant film. Olivia Colman definitely deserved her Oscar for Best Leading Actress and her genuinely beautiful and sweet acceptance speech will make you laugh and cry at once.
The Favourite. 2018. Rated R for strong sexual content, nudity and language
I have been wanting to see this movie for the longest time, but never knew when I would get a chance to see it. I am really glad I watched it though, because it taught me to not give up on my dreams. The film, which is based on the late Don LaFontaine’s famous voiceover for trailers (“In a world…”), is about a voiceover coach named Carol (played by Lake Bell, who also wrote, directed and produced this film) who lives with her voice actor dad Sam, and she is struggling to find gigs. The worst part: her dad kicks her out so that his girlfriend can move in with him. He also tells her the same thing he has been telling her for years: that the industry won’t hire her because she’s a woman. So she goes to her sister Dani’s place to live and is still struggling to find work. She also has to compete with an egotistical jerk named Gustav Warner, who is competing for Carol’s work. While she is working in the studio, she is given a prompt to read for a new movie, and she soon finds out she got a couple of gigs. What she doesn’t know is that her dad and Gustav are also competing for them. She goes to a party that Gustav is throwing and ends up sleeping with Gustav because he manipulates her into thinking he likes her for her when he is just using her to advance his own agenda. Carol ends up proving to these two dudes that women are just as valuable to the industry as any man (the fact that Lake Bell produced, wrote, directed, and starred in the film proves this even further).
This film reminded me a lot of of this one episode of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, in which Midge meets her idol Sophie Lennon, who puts on a running caricature of an overweight poor woman from Queens named Sophie. Midge actually believes that Sophie from Queens is real, and Sophie invites her over to her house, but when she gets there she finds out that Sophie, in reality, lives a completely different life from her character. Sophie in real life sucks on lemons, is haughty, lives in a mansion, and looks down on Midge. When Midge asks her for advice and tells Sophie of her dreams of being a famous comedian, Sophie laughs at her and says in seriousness that comedy won’t take her seriously unless she is a man (she uses a coarser phrase but it doesn’t need repeating). When Sam tells Carol she won’t make it in the industry because she is a woman, I thought of this scene from Mrs. Maisel. Midge of course proves Sophie wrong (and even reveals to her audience at The Gaslight that Sophie isn’t who people think she is and is just an arrogant fraud who thinks her poo doesn’t stink).
This movie, In a World, was also inspiring to watch as a female in the music industry. Even though the industry is about voiceover acting, music still has a long way to go in how it treats women and a lot of women in the industry, such as Bebe Rexha, are taking initiative to support other women in the field since many of them, like her, have had to break down some kind of barrier to success. When women support each other women, as I have found out in my own industry, great things happen and we defy the stereotypes that women are always backstabbing each other and can’t support one another.
I also thought about the story of the dragon king’s daughter while watching this film. In The Lotus Sutra, which expounds the philosophy of Buddhism (and which is the foundation of Nichiren Daishonin’s Buddhism), there is a story about an eight-year-old girl who is the daughter of a dragon king and she goes before an assembly of people who doubt she can attain enlightenment. But without having to change her form, she basically tells the assembly “Watch me attain Buddhahood” and does so before their eyes. This story is for everyone, but especially for girls and women because it shows that you can be yourself and still kick butt at what you do. Like the dragon king’s daughter, everyone has that courage, compassion and wisdom inside of them but it’s just a matter of bringing it out. Even though her dad thought she wouldn’t make it in the industry, Carol proved that she has a purpose for being in the field that she is in, and later we see that it’s to encourage other young women to pursue voice acting because they finally see a woman doing it and feel encouraged to go for the field. And I like Carol because she’s awkward and introverted like me, which doesn’t seem to most people like an attractive personality in a competitive extroverted business where we’re constantly around people who don’t seem genuine (probably not true about Hollywood since I’ve never worked in it, so I’m probably making a generalization). But she uses her strength to her advantage and realizes that she doesn’t have to become her egotistical dad or Gustav. While leading up to the big day of the voiceover gig they’re all competing for, Gustav trains rigorously with his housekeeper, Sam trains with his girlfriend, and Carol is sitting at home with her friend in the studio Louis (who, unlike Gustav, is a sweet guy who respects Carol and also likes her for her), and chowing down on a hamburger. She is the only one who is relaxing before the gig. Even though she wasn’t going through intensive training before the gig, she still did a great job at it.
Overall, this film was great and I honestly wouldn’t mind watching it again. And like Booksmart, the film has a cool soundtrack with a lot of great hits from Ice Cube and Tears for Fears.
In a World. 2013. Rated R for language including some sexual references.
So I had been reflecting on the movie Lovelace, and I’ve lately found it helpful to contextualize films using the Buddhism I practice as a framework for thinking about them. In the Buddhism I practice, Nichiren Buddhism, everyone’s life is respect-worthy because everyone is a Buddha, or someone with innate courage, wisdom, compassion and life force. So when thinking about all the mass shootings these past few weeks in the U.S. (and in past years, particularly 2019) I reflected and talked with people in my sangha community of practitioners, and we agreed that at the root of violence is a lack of respect for the dignity of a person’s life. So when I remembered this, I realized that Chuck disrespected Linda because he didn’t respect the inherent value of her life and moreover didn’t respect the value of his own life. If he respected her life, he wouldn’t feel the need to force her or manipulate her into doing something for the sake of boosting his profits. Reflecting on my own struggles with low self-esteem, I realized that in order to understand the violence in society I had to understand the violence in my own life, and this violence occurred in the form of negative self-talk and not seeing my own potential. By not loving myself, I couldn’t truly love other people, so it took a lot of human revolution, or inner transformation, to finally get to the place where I can appreciate my life and subsequently appreciate the lives of those around me. While self love is a struggle I know that I’m going through it in order to encourage those around me struggling with loving themselves. I can’t of course assume anything about Chuck Traynor’s life, but judging from the way he mistreated Linda he must have not been able to see the inherent worth in his own life.
In Buddhism, we believe in the Ten Worlds, which are ten states of life that each person can experience at any moment. The six lower worlds are hell, hunger, animality, anger, humanity and heaven. I reflected on the film and it made me think about the life state of animality. If these life states do not serve as impetus for improving our lives, they can be destructive, and in particular while watching Chuck abuse Linda in the film I thought about the life state of animality because when a person is in the life state of animality, they, as Nichiren Daishonin says “threaten the weak and fear the strong” (“Letter from Sado”, WND-1, 302). When people are in the world of animality, they see life as a struggle to survive and are willing to hurt other people in order to protect themselves. In reality, non human animals an exhibit qualities such as loyalty and selflessness, and play a key role in supporting human life, but human beings can exhibit baseness and cruelty that surpasses even that of animals. In the interview with Howard Dando, Linda says at the beginning that Chuck first came off as this charming man, the kind you’d want to bring to your parents, and at first they had a platonic relationship but then in retrospect Linda realized that he only came off that way because in order to experience arousal, pleasure, or fulfillment of some kind, he felt he needed to devalue other people, and Linda was one of the people he felt would give him this kind of fulfillment (as I write this, I’m not sure if it’s my period or the thoughts of a human being hurting another human being that’s making me queasy. Pretty sure it’s the latter).
There is also the world of Hell, where one feels like there’s no way out of suffering, that even life itself is a torment, and when we’re in the life state of Hell we believe that everything we encounter causes us to suffer. Whenever I have manifested the life state of Hell I rely on destructive impulses, and this has not just hurt others but hurt myself because I felt there was no way out of my despair. In Lovelace Chuck manifested the life states of hell and animality when he hurt Linda; he felt that if she left the pornography industry he would have nothing, and that he wouldn’t have anyone to control or make powerless. He wanted money and power, and believed Linda was going to make him rich and famous. He relied on abusing and coercing Linda into doing things for him to bolster his sense of self-worth, but in the long run it actually didn’t do anything to boost his self-esteem. So when she finally left the industry, and he can’t trace her or track her down, the film shows him crying and getting upset, and this shows him in the life state of Hell. He feels hopeless about life now that he is no longer in a position to take advantage of Linda. In Buddhism we also talk about fundamental darkness, which happens when we can’t see the inherent Buddha nature, or value, in our lives. Chuck felt that he had to hurt Linda because he could not see his own Buddha nature, and because he couldn’t see his own Buddha nature he couldn’t see hers.
At the beginning of the interview, Linda says that Linda Lovelace is actually not her real name, it’s a fictitious character that Chuck invented for her. This reminded me of I, Tina, Tina Turner’s autobiography, because she talks about the abuse she suffered at the hands of her manager and husband Ike, and he came up with the name Tina Turner for her even though her real name is Anna Mae Bullock. He trademarked it with his last name so that if she left him like his previous singers had, he could replace her with another “Tina Turner” (“Tina Turner, Ike and Tina Turner: Origins, 1957-1960, Wikipedia.org. ) In I, Tina, Tina describes in vivid detail the violence Ike perpetuated towards her: physical violence, psychological violence, emotional violence. When she tried many times to get her own music career going and divorce Ike, he threatened her repeatedly with violence and abusive language. Like me, Tina Turner is a Buddhist and she found that when she chanted nam-myoho-renge-kyo, even though she still got abused by Ike, she was able to tap into the innate courage and wisdom she already had within her life to address Ike’s abuse and not let it take away her sense of self. She also was able to see Ike for who he really was: someone who acted powerful and all-mighty, but really was just doing it to impress others. He didn’t value and respect Tina’s life and worth as a human being because he didn’t value and respect his own life and worth as a human being. He felt that he would lose his power and social standing if Tina asserted herself and left him, and so like Chuck Traynor in Lovelace, he was in the life states of hell and animality. Both the descriptions of Ike’s repeated abuse of Tina in I, Tina, and the depictions of Chuck’s repeated abuse of Linda in Lovelace, show how bad the life state of animality is when people let it control them. Like I said, in order to root out the destructiveness in my own life, I had to see the value of my life. I mainly accomplished it through my Buddhist practice, which helped me see my inherent worth and caused me to appreciate my life more over time. Similarly Linda found joy in her relationship to God, and He helped her heal from the trauma she experienced.
Of course, as I’m reading more and more I’m understanding that anti-pornography activism also can be dangerous, particularly to sex workers who work in porn and sex work industries that practice sexual consent. I wanted to know more about the violence done to women in the pornography industry, and I came across a report by Vice News about how some people who are anti-porn and anti-sex work espouse violent views against women and other minorities, and is trying to abolish Pornhub and the porn industry instead of addressing social justice and equal rights for sex workers. Sex workers deserve respect just like any other profession, and taking away their profession or criminalizing it would put their livelihoods in jeopardy. The problem isn’t sex, as Nicholas Kristof emphasized in his article “The Children of Pornhub”, it’s sexual abuse and a lack of respect and consent for people during sex that becomes an issue. Porn itself isn’t bad, it’s the sexual violence against people in pornography that is bad. Sex itself is not a bad thing, it’s a human function like eating, breathing and drinking water. However, when sex workers are not having their human needs for housing, fair wages, and other social goods met, that’s the issue that needs addressing. Anti-trafficking organizations in the U.S., as many human rights organizations have revealed, try to lump all porn industries and companies together and say that they’re all bad, that all they do is exploit and that these sex workers need to be rescued or saved, when in reality this anti-sex culture hurts people who make their living from sex work. As Vice points out, it’s a combination of antiquated legislation, politicians, businesses and a culture that treats all sex as if it’s a sin that hurts sex workers, not necessarily the industry as a whole. When sex workers have their humanity recognized then that would be a huge step towards a fairer society that respects each person’s inherent worth.
I had been wanting to see the film Lovelace for a rather long time, mainly because I love Amanda Seyfried. Also the trailer was really good, so I wanted to see it. The film was very deep and gave me a lot to think about, especially because I didn’t know who Linda Lovelace was until I saw the poster for Lovelace one time, and I had only heard of Inside Deep Throat, the documentary about the porn film Deep Throat, from looking the movies section of a newspaper. But the film is not so much about Deep Throat as it is about the trauma and sexual abuse she suffered at the hands of the man who coerced her into making the film. Chuck Traynor didn’t really love Linda; he just saw her as a way to get rich, a prop, so he sweet-talked her because he thought she was innocent and weak and couldn’t stand up for herself.
This film also taught me to be more empathetic when listening to women talk about abuse and domestic violence. When the allegations against Bill Cosby came out I asked, Wait why didn’t those women just leave him? And then my friend told me that Bill threatened to take their careers and livelihoods away from them if they said no (it wasn’t until I saw the movie Bombshell, a film based on the the sexual harassment allegations against Roger Ailes at Fox News, that I finally woke up). I then reflected when a friend raised a similar question (the “why don’t you just leave this extremely toxic abuse?” question) when the sexual assault allegations against Harvey Weinstein came out, and our other friend said it was because Weinstein, like Cosby, threatened these women that he would end their careers if they said no or even told others about the abuse he inflicted upon them. Same with the film Lovelace; at the beginning of the film it seems as if Linda and Chuck are having consensual sex, but later on in the film we see Chuck raping and beating Linda and then forcing her to marry him. After the film I wanted to learn more about this woman’s life so I watched some interviews she did, and in the interview Linda did with Howard Dando and she says that people asked her why she didn’t just leave Chuck when he kept abusing her, she said she tried at least three times, and each time she tried to escape him he beat her and manipulated her into staying with him. It reminds me of a song I listened to by Christina Aguilera called “Walk Away” where she talks about relationship abuse and how it is difficult to leave her abuser because the abuser makes her feel like she should be grateful to be with them, that they are the one. The abuser convinces her that it is love and not abuse, even with all the suffering the abused faces at the hands of the abuser. That’s why I need to keep educating myself by reading narratives of abuse victims, listening to their narratives, especially as someone who cannot personally relate to what Linda went through, I need to listen and be supportive.
Before her death in 2002, Linda became an anti-pornography activist later on in life, and published a memoir called Ordeal, where she discusses the abuse she suffered in the pornography industry. It reminded me a lot of this article by Nicholas Kristof I read in The New York Times back in December of 2020 called “The Children of Pornhub,” in which Kristof unveiled the issue of sexual assault in porn videos uploaded to Pornhub and other porn sites. 4/24/21 edit: even though I saw the film a month ago and started writing this review a month ago, and was going to go in depth about “The Children of Pornhub” article, I literally could not stop crying every time I thought about what those young women (and men) went through every time they had videos of them being raped uploaded to Pornhub and have everyone see it. It saddened me because many of these youth attempted suicide because of the shame and embarrassment they dealt with. Thankfully when I searched for the article, I came across a much more hopeful update that Kristof had written called “An Uplifting Update, on the Terrible World of Pornhub”, in which he talks about how governments and the Pornhub corporation itself are taking more actions towards addressing sexual assault of children in pornography videos, such as bipartisan legislation that allows for rape victims to sue porn companies profiting from videos of their assaults. Kristof also notes that Pornhub will now require people to verify their identities before they can upload videos and no longer will allow video downloads that would allow for the proliferation of illegal material. Of course, Kristof notes that it’s important to always keep questioning whether these companies will follow through, especially because people can probably use fake IDs to get around the rule on verifying one’s identity. But he says that there’s hope because young rape victims have spoken out on the companies’ exploitative practices. Kristof says, too, that we shouldn’t be just scrutinizing Pornhub’s practices but also less well-known porn sites for how they deal with matters of child exploitation.
As Kristof emphasizes, “the issue isn’t pornography but rape. It is not prudishness to feel revulsion at global companies that monetize sexual assaults on children; it’s compassion.” (Kristof) Indeed, while reading “The Children of Pornhub” article for the first time when it came out in The New York Times paper last year, I literally wanted to vomit because of the sheer amount of rape and violence done to children in these videos and the lack of strict measures on the part of porn companies to tackle the proliferation of this material. Sex done without consent isn’t truly sex anymore; it’s rape. As I’ve educated myself more on trauma and sexual abuse through reading and listening to rape victims’ experiences, I am more aware of how the issue of consent is a serious issue that always needs discussion, because if it’s not being discussed, then rape’s going to keep getting a pass in society.
On a more hopeful note, there was an update on one of the victims of this exploitation, and how, when before she wanted to end her life because of the humiliation that came with being exploited on Pornhub, she received so much love from people who wanted to help and was finally excited to go back to school and pursue her dream of being a veterinary technician. When I read the update I broke down in tears of relief and joy because I was just so happy for this young woman that she can now fully live her life instead of feeling like she had no reason to live anymore. I cried because before reading the update I had seen the interview with Linda and how she talks about how she was finally able to live her life with a caring husband and two beautiful kids after she got out of the pornography industry and Chuck’s abuse of her, and as someone who never dealt with what they went through but experienced serious depression where you feel that there’s no hope, I felt so hard for both Linda and the young lady in the article because they finally got to be human after living in a hellish world that didn’t recognize their humanity.
Honestly, I don’t know what else to say about this movie because I’m still emotionally processing it. But it’s a powerful film and it made me appreciate Amanda Seyfried’s incredible acting, as well as Linda Marciano because I didn’t know much about the issue of sexual abuse in pornography but I now know after seeing the film how serious a problem it is.
Lovelace. 2013. Rated R for strong sexual content, nudity, language, drug use and some domestic violence.