Waiter Albert Nobbs (Glenn Close, left) and painter Hubert Page (Janet McTeer, right) take on the sensitive topic of gender identity in 1890s Ireland in director Rodrigo Garcia's "Albert Nobbs," a drama that has earned Academy Award nominations for both actresses. Photo by Patrick Redmond, courtesy of Roadside Attractions.

“Albert Nobbs” (2012). Cast: Glenn Close, Janet McTeer, Mia Wasikowska, Aaron Johnson, Pauline Collins, Brenda Fricker, Brendan Gleeson, John Rhys Meyers, Bronagh Gallagher, Mark Williams, James Greene, Antonia Campbell-Hughes, Maria Doyle Kennedy. Director: Rodrigo Garcia. Screenplay: Glenn Close, John Banville and Gabriella Prekop. Story: George Moore. www.albertnobbs-themovie.com/#

Hotel waiter Albert Nobbs (Glenn Close) isn't everything he seems to be in the thought-provoking new drama, "Albert Nobbs." Photo by Patrick Redmond, courtesy of Roadside Attractions.

We all have dreams for ourselves in life. Many of us also probably have some pretty well-defined preconceptions about how those dreams – and our lives in general – are supposed to play out. But then sometimes we also get surprised at what we’re presented with when those aspirations manifest, particularly in terms of the impact they have on the identities we hold of ourselves. These are among the many themes that come up for review in the thought-provoking new drama, “Albert Nobbs.”

Hotel waiter Albert Nobbs (Glenn Close) is an oft-described strange little man. But then that’s probably because he’s not a man at all. Rather, Albert is a middle-aged woman who, because of the need to fend for herself financially, has been intentionally disguising herself as a member of the opposite sex since she was 14. And, thanks to her ability to successfully pull off this ruse, Albert has managed to set aside a tidy nest egg while working as part of the wait staff at Dublin’s Morrison’s Hotel. It’s a perfect place for her to work, too; the pay and perks are good, and the place holds so many deceptions of its own that it provides ample, discreet coverage for her own secret.

By focusing on her financial security, though, Albert has paid little attention to her personal life, particularly where romance is concerned. Also, she’s become so adept at passing herself off as a man that she has, for all practical purposes, come to regard herself as one. But, were the truth of things to come out, she’d face certain ostracism from conservative 1890s Irish society.

All that changes, however, when the hotel’s owner, Mrs. Baker (Pauline Collins), hires a painter, Hubert Page, to do some work at her establishment. She gives Hubert permission to share Albert’s quarters while doing the work, a prospect that causes Albert considerable consternation. The strange little man quietly struggles to hide her anxiety, but that uneasy trepidation quickly turns to outright panic when Hubert discovers her roommate’s true identity. Albert is terrified about the ramifications of this unplanned revelation – that is, until she realizes that she and Hubert (Janet McTeer) share the same secret.

Albert and Hubert become friends, spending time and sharing personal confidences with one another. Albert is particularly intrigued by Hubert’s description of the happy life she’s built with a loving wife, Cathleen (Bronagh Gallagher). Suddenly, Albert is able to picture a whole new life for herself, too. She envisions using her savings to buy a tobacconist’s shop, one that has an adjacent living area that would be ideal to share with a bride. Hubert encourages Albert to follow her dreams and seek the same kind of happiness that she has found, even going so far as to suggest that Albert pursue a relationship with the lovely young Helen Dawes (Mia Wasikowska), one of the hotel’s flirtatious chamber maids. Albert, who has had her eye on Helen for some time, concurs and decides to initiate the courting process.

Of course, wooing the object of her affection poses two challenges to Albert: (1) can she compete with her main rival, Joe Mackens (Aaron Johnson), the hotel’s strapping young handyman, who clearly has his sights set on Helen?; and (2) how does she break the news of her true gender status to Helen? Albert steps into uncharted territory in considering these possibilities, and she wonders how to proceed. Hubert is able to provide some guidance, but Albert is largely on her own in this endeavor, a path that has many potential rewards – and pitfalls.

Courting proves a challenge for waiter Albert Nobbs (Glenn Close, left) when wooing flirtatious young chamber maid Helen Dawes (Mia Wasikowska, right) in the Oscar-nominated drama, "Albert Nobbs." Photo by Patrick Redmond, courtesy of Roadside Attractions.

Albert’s proficiency in envisioning possibilities makes her a highly competent conscious creator. Once inspired, she’s able to picture, with remarkable clarity, what she wants to achieve. But then that shouldn’t come as any surprise, since she’s been doing just that for quite a long time. When faced with having to support herself at a young age, Albert learned of an opportunity to work as a waiter at a Masons’ hall. She believed she was capable of handling the job, and, despite the obvious risks, she pursued it, successfully landing the position. The experience she earned in that job allowed her to obtain work later on in fine dining establishments in places like Manchester and London, putting her on firm footing when she decided to seek a position in Dublin.

Having successfully tackled the challenges in her work life, as well as accumulating a respectable degree of savings, Albert has positioned herself well to take on the challenges of reshaping her personal life. And now that she’s witnessed the happiness that Hubert has successfully attained, Albert believes that she can create that for herself as well. But, given that she’s on unfamiliar turf, Albert’s not sure how to proceed. Doubt begins creeping into her thoughts, and since doubt is one of the forces that can undercut the conscious creation process, Albert is potentially setting herself up for disappointment by allowing this. She even seems to recognize the impact that this is having on her plans, so she unwittingly attempts to compensate for it by micromanaging her materialization efforts, causing her increased levels of aggravation and even more doubt. Under these circumstances, she would have fared far better by putting out her intents to the Universe – her divine conscious creation collaborator – and allowing it to bring forth the conditions that allow her to realize her goals rather than trying to discern the specifics of how it should happen all on her own. By doing this, she runs the risk of working against herself, creating frustration that further undermines her efforts and ultimately brings her no closer to her desired objectives.

Through her experiences, Albert must come to terms with the fact that the fulfillment of our goals doesn’t always follow the prescribed forms that we envision, even if the essence of what we desire is eventually achieved. In circumstances like these, we may not even be aware that an objective has fundamentally been met until well after the fact or until someone points it out to us, mainly because we’re so focused on the outcome conforming to predetermined parameters that we can’t see the result for what it inherently is. This, essentially, becomes a case of the proverbial inability to see the forest for the trees, a practice that I call semi-conscious creation. Indeed, things might not always seem to be what they genuinely are (something that the protagonist should already be well-acquainted with), and, when we’re confronted with such conditions, they sometimes bring hard lessons, teachings that serve as cautionary tales for us all.

Rivals for the affection of a young chamber maid, waiter Albert Nobbs (Glenn Close, right) and handyman Joe Mackens (Aaron Johnson, left) square off in the period piece drama, "Albert Nobbs." Photo by Patrick Redmond, courtesy of Roadside Attractions.

The impact of all of the foregoing can be considerable, especially when it comes to our perceptions of our own identities. We may well be more than the limited selves we see ourselves as, a notion that can have far-reaching implications. The title character comes to see this for herself, allowing her to move beyond who she believes herself to be, and in myriad ways at that. And, even if envisioned outcomes don’t always match preconceptions and/or result in full-fledged fruition, at least having the ability to view ourselves in expanded ways enables us to experience developments in our consciousness and personal growth that exceed previously constrained expectations.

The marketing campaign behind “Albert Nobbs” makes it look like fare suitable primarily for those keen on Masterpiece Theatre and pithy high-brow stage dramas. However, the picture is remarkably more “accessible” than that, an engaging offering for moviegoers other than those who wear tweed suits 24/7. It’s a heartfelt drama with a wealth of colorful characters in a wonderful period piece setting, with fine Oscar-nominated performances by Close and, especially, McTeer. The sound quality could definitely be better at times, though, especially when the players turn up the brogue factor, so sit close to the screen if the theater at which you’re viewing it has an audio system that leaves something to be desired.

The picture has been earning its share of awards season nominations, though it has yet to take home any hardware. In addition to its Oscar nods for Close and McTeer, the film has also been nominated in the Academy’s makeup category, a distinction it also earned in the Critics Choice Awards competition. Close and McTeer have also received their share of honors in other contests, with Close receiving Golden Globe and Screen Actors Guild Award nominations and McTeer earning accolades in the Golden Globe, Screen Actors Guild and Independent Spirit Award contests. The film was also honored with a Golden Globe nod for its best original song, “Lay Your Head Down,” a lovely, lyrical piece composed by Brian Byrne (music) and Close (words) and sung by Sinéad O’Connor.

I was especially taken with two quotes from this film. As Albert’s colleague, Dr. Holloran (Brendan Gleeson), the hotel’s resident physician, observes in a scene at a costume ball, “We’re all disguised as ourselves.” It’s a point that, arguably, has some merit, though, to me, it suggests a desire to hide, one that goes against our true nature. In that regard, I was actually more heartened by one of Hubert’s observations: “You don’t have to be anything but what you are.” It’s a statement that speaks to the core themes explored in this film – and, I would hope, to the core of our being as well.

Copyright © 2012, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.

Technorati Tags: "Albert Nobbs", "Lay Your Head Down", 1890s, Aaron Johnson, aspirations, Brenda Fricker, Brendan Gleeson, Brent Marchant, brogue, chamber maid, conscious creation, Critics Choice Award, deception, disappointment, disguise, doubt, dreams, Dublin, envisioning, Film, gender, Glenn Close, Golden Globe, handyman, Happiness, identity, Independent Spirit Award, Irish society, Janet McTeer, John Rhys Meyers, limited selves, London, Manchester, Masons, Masterpiece Theatre, Mia Wasikowska, Movies, nest egg, Oscar, ostracism, Pauline Collins, period piece, pitfalls, preconceptions, rewards, risk, Rodrigo Garcia, ruse, savings, Screen Actors Guild Award, secret, semi-conscious creation, Sinéad O’Connor, strange little man, tobacconist's shop, universe, waiter

Nyumah (left) and Sahr (right), best friends torn apart by the Sierra Leone civil war of 1991-2002, get reacquainted just a few days after a dramatic bonfire ceremony that reconciled their friendship in the documentary "Fambul Tok." Photo © Sara Terry for Catalyst for Peace.

“Fambul Tok” (2011). Director: Sara Terry. http://www.fambultok.com

From 1991 to 2002, the West African nation of Sierra Leone was plunged into a collective madness. The country was ravaged by a civil war in which countless unspeakable atrocities were inflicted upon the populace, often by individuals (and, in some cases, family members) who knew one another personally. It’s hard to imagine that anyone, let alone an entire nation, could heal the deep wounds produced by such barbarism. Yet that’s just what this tiny country has been working toward through an innovative reconciliation effort that’s the subject of the inspiring documentary, “Fambul Tok.”

A community gathers to hear the testimony of victims and perpetrators at a bonfire ceremony in Gbekedu in Sierra Leone's Kailahun District in director Sara Terry's riveting documentary, "Fambul Tok." Photo © Sara Terry for Catalyst for Peace.

Director Sara Terry’s film examines the workings of a grass-roots initiative known as the Fambul Tok program, whose name in Creole means “Family Talk.” The program is based on traditional village bonfire gatherings in which victims and perpetrators address one another, not only to make amends, but also to help restore the longstanding Sierra Leonean tradition of “community” as a way of life. Victims are afforded an opportunity to articulate their suffering – usually in painfully explicit detail – and perpetrators are subsequently offered the chance to express their remorse, after which victims are asked if they can accept the apologies of their offenders. And, remarkably, forgiveness is nearly always the result, even in the most egregious cases.

The film opens with an explanation of the program, which was founded in 2007 by John Caulker, executive director of the human rights organization Forum of Conscience. Through interviews with Caulker, the documentary illustrates how the program came into being and the significance of its methods, which were founded on traditional principles of Sierra Leonean culture.

As explained in the film, many of those who engaged in the atrocities were coerced into doing so by warlords from various political and tribal factions, often facing certain death if they failed to cooperate. Such practices ripped villages apart, frequently pitting friends and family against one another in life-or-death struggles and assailing the fundamental concept upon which the nation’s culture was based – the sense of community. Yet, through the Fambul Tok program, perpetrators have an opportunity to be welcomed back as full-fledged members of their villages, resuming their place as participating constituents of their communities.

“Fambul Tok” focuses on several personal stories to illustrate the initiative’s power in action. There’s the story of Esther, who at age 12 was captured by rebels and raped by 15 men, including her uncle, Joseph, who faced death if he didn’t cooperate with his captors. Then there’s the account of  Nyumah, who was ordered by rebels to beat his best friend Sahr, doing so to the point of crippling him, and then commanded to slit the throat of Sahr’s father. Tamba Joe, meanwhile, turned on the villagers of Foendor, beheading 17 members of his own clan. In each of these cases, however, despite their heinous acts, the perpetrators were ultimately forgiven and welcomed back into their communities.

Cynics might be tempted to look upon this initiative as naïve in its outlook and approach, that such monstrous acts are beyond forgiveness. But those critics should look at what the Fambul Tok participants are creating for themselves – a genuine example of real forgiveness. And what an example to follow. We often elevate the concept of forgiveness to an exalted status, but do we truly practice it when presented with the circumstances to implement it? Or do we just pay it lip service? Over the years there have been countless public examples of apologies being accepted by victims from high-profile transgressors only to have the perpetrators continually criticized by outsiders after the fact. In these situations, one can’t help but see the blatant hypocrisy and judgmentalism, inevitably prompting such observations as “It’s not enough to apologize anymore.” Clearly we could stand to learn a few things from these enlightened souls.

The site of a community consultation in Sierra Leone's Kailahun District where human rights workers met with local constituents to determine whether the villagers wanted to participate in an innovative, grass-roots reconciliation initiative, the subject of the inspiring documentary, "Fambul Tok." Photo © Sara Terry for Catalyst for Peace.

On some level, the Fambul Tok participants understand the conscious creation concept dealing with the inherent connectedness of all things in the reality around us. And that’s important, for an awareness of that principle is essential to creating a bona fide sense of community. It’s also important in understanding how to restore that sense of community when it becomes fractured, as happened during Sierra Leone’s civil war. All the parts of the whole need to be drawn back into it, even in the aftermath of such a tragedy, if it’s ever to be properly reintegrated once again.

There’s also been an amazing irony to come out of this program. In the wake of the conflict, the government established a special trial court to prosecute war criminals, and over the course of many years and exorbitant expenditures of funds, the court tried only a handful of criminals. By contrast, over the course of only four years, the Fambul Tok program conducted numerous forgiveness ceremonies, successfully reconciling countless victims and perpetrators, and at only a fraction of the cost. Whoever said peace only comes at a high price obviously never met the people of Sierra Leone.

Women celebrate a rice harvest on a community farm in Madina in Sierra Leone's Kailahun District, bringing together reconciled victims and perpetrators of the country's civil war, in director Sara Terry's "Fambul Tok." Photo © Sara Terry for Catalyst for Peace.

“Fambul Tok” is one fine piece of filmmaking from start to finish, an engrossing documentary that holds viewers riveted throughout. It never loses sight of its objectivity, no matter how emotionally painful some of its individual stories are, yet it ultimately delivers an undeniable message of hope, enlightenment and inspiration, one that we all could learn from. The film has been shown at a number of festivals and special screenings (check the picture’s web site), and it’s available on DVD.

Philosophers and theologians have long maintained that there’s tremendous power in the act of forgiveness, though rarely has its impact been illustrated as eloquently as in this documentary. Those interested in alternative means of making peace will be intrigued by the quiet power of this profoundly moving film.

Copyright © 2012, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.

Technorati Tags: "Fambul Tok", "Family Talk", aftermath, apologies, Brent Marchant, civil war, community, connectedness, conscious creation, Creole, documentary, DVD, festival, Film, forgiveness, Forum of Conscience, human rights, hypocrisy, John Caulker, judgmentalism, lip service, making peace, objectivity, perpetrator, reconciliation, remorse, Sara Terry, Sierra Leone, special screening, transgressor, victim

Nine-year-old New Yorker Oskar Schell (Thomas Horn) seeks to keep his father's memory alive by participating in a city-wide scavenger hunt in director Stephen Daldry's "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close." Photo by François Duhamel, courtesy of Warner Bros.

“Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” (2011). Cast: Tom Hanks, Sandra Bullock, Thomas Horn, Max von Sydow, Viola Davis, Jeffrey Wright, John Goodman, Zoe Caldwell, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Bernadette Drayton. Director: Stephen Daldry. Screenplay: Eric Roth. Book: Jonathan Safran Foer.  http://extremelyloudandincrediblyclose.warnerbros.com/index.html

Tackling a sensitive, larger-than-life topic is a risky proposition in almost any context, but it can be especially problematic in the movie industry. In most instances, endeavors like that are bound to attract their share of both supporters and detractors (those involved in these productions no doubt hoping for more of the former than the latter). Such is the challenge that’s been undertaken by director Stephen Daldry in his latest offering, “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.”

Oskar Schell (Thomas Horn, right) loves exploring New York with his attentive, fun-loving dad (Tom Hanks, left) in the Academy Award-nominated "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close." Photo by François Duhamel, courtesy of Warner Bros.

Nine-year-old New Yorker Oskar Schell (Thomas Horn) adores his attentive, fun-loving father (Tom Hanks). They do everything together, from practicing tai chi to exploring the city that is their playground. They particularly enjoy playing a game that dad made up called “Reconnaissance Mission,” a scavenger hunt of sorts designed to encourage Oskar’s curiosity, to develop his problem-solving skills and to teach him about his world. And, being the methodical, inquisitive kid that he is, Oskar relishes the challenges posed to him, not only for the fun involved, but also for the father-and-son quality time that they afford. It’s easy to see that these two are best buds. Which is why it’s so hard for Oskar to cope with the events of 9/11, the disaster that claimed his dad’s life when the World Trade Center towers collapsed.

In the wake of this tragedy, Oskar desperately looks for a way to hold on to his connection to his dad, and he gets that opportunity when he unexpectedly finds a key in his father’s bedroom closet. Oskar wonders what the key opens, the only clue being the word “Black” written on the envelope that held it. He concludes that his dad must have left the key for him to find, the enigmatic object serving as the focus of one last Reconnaissance Mission. Oskar also surmises that, since the key could potentially open anything, the challenge posed by this exercise could keep him occupied for years – literally. What better way to keep the paternal connection alive, perhaps indefinitely?

And so Oskar embarks on a scavenger hunt that takes him all over New York. His quest introduces him to Gothamites from every borough and of every stripe, including, among others, a kindly divorcée (Viola Davis), a spiritualist healer (Bernadette Drayton) and a mute stranger simply known as “the Renter” (Max von Sydow). But, despite Oskar’s tenacity, his quest seems futile, causing him considerable frustration and straining relations with his mother (Sandra Bullock), who’s attempting to resolve her own grief over her husband’s loss. Oskar thus struggles to come to terms with the task that he’s given himself and whether it will ultimately help him reconcile – or merely prolong – his sorrow.

The foregoing summary probably makes the film’s narrative sound reasonably straightforward. If only that were the case. In actuality, the picture’s story line is all over the map, using a variety of storytelling devices and introducing subplots that either get dropped for no apparent reason or are awkwardly resurrected when seemingly forgotten. Because of that, it’s difficult to get a handle on what this movie is really trying to say.

To be sure, there are some conscious creation themes explored in the film, most notably those related to facing fears, examining unexplored probabilities, understanding the nature of the reality we experience, embracing change by letting go and appreciating the inherent connectedness of all things. However, the passing and often-haphazard treatment they receive reminds viewers of just how many other pictures are out there that handle these subjects much more deftly and substantively.

Reconciling loss is a major challenge for Oskar Schell (Thomas Horn, foreground) and his mother (Sandra Bullock, background) in the new drama, "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close." Photo by François Duhamel, courtesy of Warner Bros.

That aside, however, the theme that would-be viewers are perhaps most curious about going in is the picture’s treatment of the 9/11 subject matter. The world at large, and New Yorkers in particular, truly deserve a thoughtful film that effectively addresses the impact of this event in a way that can help promote the much-needed collective healing that’s still being sought a decade later. Regrettably, however, “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” fails to deliver on this point.

As it’s employed in this film, the 9/11 connection is, unfortunately, little more than a means to heighten the anguish of the survivors of a great personal loss, which is, in actuality, the primary thrust of the picture’s overall story line. Given that, then, Oskar and his mother likely would have been devastated by their circumstances no matter how their father/husband had died, so drawing upon 9/11 as a means to accentuate that pathos, without the event being given any more meaningful relevance within the overall narrative, only serves to reduce this tragedy to a plot device. In my view, the events of that fateful day clearly deserve more profound consideration than they have received here.

An enigmatic mute stranger simply known as "the Renter" (Oscar nominee Max von Sydow, left) assists young Oskar Schell (Thomas Horn, right) in his quest to find the lock that a mysterious key opens in "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close." Photo by François Duhamel, courtesy of Warner Bros.

Progressively minded viewers have been anticipating this picture for some time, fueled in large part by a well-orchestrated marketing campaign. I, too, was looking forward to this offering far in advance of its release. I was truly hoping that I would like it, and I wish I had better things to say about it, but its meandering screenplay, choppy editing and unfocused direction combine to derail this effort. Making matters worse is the often-irritating performance of the film’s young male lead; his manic, shrill delivery exacerbates the many problems created by uneven writing and his character’s poorly crafted persona, that of a young man who’s either overly quirky and annoyingly precocious or a hyperactive special needs child receiving insufficient care (neither of which is made especially clear in the script or in his character’s development).

However, the film is not without its merits. Bullock turns in a fantastic performance (even if there wasn’t enough of her), as does von Sydow, who rightfully earned an Oscar nomination for best supporting actor for his portrayal of a silent, inscrutable enigma. But, despite these fine portrayals, there’s also an awful lot of great talent in this film that gets seriously underused, particularly Davis, Jeffrey Wright and John Goodman; they’re relegated to largely insignificant roles that could have been capably played by any number of aspiring actors looking to get some big screen exposure.

A kindly but sad divorcée (Viola Davis, right) is one of many new people that young Oskar Schell (Thomas Horn, left) meets while on his search of New York in "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close." Photo by François Duhamel, courtesy of Warner Bros.

Despite the picture’s shortcomings (and a wealth of unflattering reviews), it nevertheless has its supporters. It received two Academy Award nominations, one deservedly for von Sydow’s supporting performance and one inexplicably for best picture. Earlier this month it also received four Critics Choice Award nominations, including nods for best picture, best director and best adapted screenplay, as well as a stunning (and bewildering) win for Horn as best young actor/actress.

Some have suggested that a good many reviewers have been overly critical of this picture, that it’s perhaps even the victim of a certain sort of fashionable cynicism. However, when a picture aspires to greatness by taking on an imposing subject, it had better measure up or its creators must be prepared to face the consequences. This sentiment is perhaps best summed up by film critic Gary Wolcott of The Tri-City Herald, who astutely observed, “Somewhere in Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close there probably is a great movie. It just didn’t get made.”

Sadly, I couldn’t agree more.

Copyright © 2012, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.

Technorati Tags: "Black", "the Renter", “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close”, 9/11, Academy Award, anguish, best buds, Brent Marchant, Change, collective healing, connectedness, conscious creation, Critics Choice Award, curiosity, divorcée, facing fears, fashionable cynicism, Film, Gothamite, grief, Jeffrey Wright, John Goodman, Jonathan Safran Foer, key, letting go, Max von Sydow, Movies, mute stranger, new york, New Yorker, Oscar, paternal connection, pathos, plot device, problem-solving skills, quality time, Reconnaissance Mission, Sandra Bullock, scavenger hunt, sorrow, special needs child, spiritualist healer, Stephen Daldry, tai chi, tenacity, Thomas Horn, Tom Hanks, unexplored probabilities, Viola Davis, World Trade Center, Zoe Caldwell

British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher (Meryl Streep, right) champions her electoral victory with husband Denis (Jim Broadbent, left) in director Phyllida Lloyd's "The Iron Lady." Photo by Alex Bailey, courtesy of Pathe Productions Ltd/The Weinstein Company.

“The Iron Lady” (2011). Cast: Meryl Streep, Jim Broadbent, Olivia Colman, Anthony Head, Alexandra Roach, Harry Lloyd, Nicholas Farrell. Director: Phyllida Lloyd. Screenplay: Abi Morgan. http://weinsteinco.com/sites/iron-lady/

One of the hallmark principles of contemporary metaphysical thought is that we each create our own reality (and in a highly personal way, I might add) through our beliefs and intents. But, as widely as this notion has been embraced, rarely has it been portrayed cinematically as eloquently as it is in the new biographical character study, “The Iron Lady.”

Meryl Streep gives a riveting performance as former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher in the new biographical character study, "The Iron Lady." Photo by Alex Bailey, courtesy of Pathe Productions Ltd/The Weinstein Company.

After years of floating about in this psychological fog, however, Margaret quietly starts taking steps to get her life back. She embarks on this process by deciding—finally—to sort through and dispense with the personal effects of her late husband, possessions that she’s been holding onto for years. But, by doing this, she opens a Pandora’s Box of memories of her personal and political life. Recollections of her past relentlessly come flooding back to her (an experience not unlike the so-called “life review” that many contend we go through after we pass on). This deluge of memories forces Margaret to come to grips with what she’s done, for better or worse, as well as the rewards she received and the prices she paid for her successes and failures, both personally and politically.

Through flashbacks, we see Margaret’s younger self (Alexandra Roach) as a clerk in the family grocery during World War II, as an outspoken aspiring politician in post-war England and as the love interest of the successful young businessman who would become her eventual husband (Harry Lloyd). From there we witness her rise through the ranks of British government, first as a member of Parliament, then as Secretary of State for Education and Science, then as leader of the Conservative Party, and eventually as England’s longest-serving Prime Minister of the Twentieth Century (and the first woman ever to hold that office).

Once in power, we witness the challenges Margaret faced in dealing with such issues as Britain’s labor unions, the sagging English economy, the Falklands War with Argentina, the terrorist attacks of the Irish Republican Army (which took the life of her trusted advisor, Airey Neave (Nicholas Farrell), and nearly cost Margaret her own life through an unsuccessful assassination attempt), and heady international affairs involving the European Union and the end of the Cold War. And, through it all, we see the depth of her famous (or infamous) steely resolve to see her plans through.

On her climb up the ladder of success, Margaret triumphantly overcomes the many roadblocks thrown up by the privileged Parliamentary old boys’ club, obstacles intentionally designed to thwart the upward mobility of women and those of middle class background. But, in spite of her successes, Margaret also paid some high prices for her accomplishments. While she had her allies, she also made her share of enemies in government, the international arena and the public at large. Her family life frequently took a back seat to her public calling, straining relationships with her children and even her beloved Denis. And eventually she paid a tremendous price politically, when her inflexibility cost her the support of longstanding ally Geoffrey Howe (Anthony Head), her control of the Conservative Party and, in the end, the leadership of her country. It’s these costs that the elder Margaret must come to terms with as she struggles to take back her life.

At its metaphysical core, “The Iron Lady” showcases one individual’s efforts at practicing conscious creation, the philosophy that maintains we each create our own reality. This theme is perhaps best summed up by a quote from the protagonist: “Watch your thoughts, for they become words. Watch your words, for they become actions. Watch your actions, for they become habits. Watch your habits, for they become your character. And watch your character, for it becomes your destiny! What we think, we become.” In saying this, Margaret embodies many of this discipline’s principles, particularly those outlined in author Jane Roberts’s book The Nature of Personal Reality, one of the cornerstone works on this philosophy and how it operates.

Tough-as-nails British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher (Meryl Streep, center left) confers with trusted advisors, including longtime ally Geoffrey Howe (Anthony Head, center right), in the award-winning new release, "The Iron Lady." Photo by Alex Bailey, courtesy of Pathe Productions Ltd/The Weinstein Company.

Many have been highly critical of this film for allegedly playing fast and loose with “the facts,” even going so far as to say that it gives viewers a sanitized revisionist history of Thatcher’s life and career. But it’s on that point that I believe many of the picture’s detractors have missed the movie’s intent. “The Iron Lady,” in essence, is a character study, not a historical chronicle of the protagonist’s life, examining her outlooks and motivations from her own personal viewpoint (not unlike what the excellent made-for-cable production “The Life and Death of Peter Sellers” did for the legendary British actor). It’s meant to provide a look at what she was thinking and feeling about the historical events portrayed in the film, not what an outside, “objective” historian might have to say about her life and career. In that sense, then, the picture is more about the life of a person who just happened to be a British Prime Minister than about the life of a British Prime Minister who just happened to be a person.

Some have also been critical of the film’s portrayal of Thatcher as a dementia patient lost in a sea of delusion, suggesting that someone of her stature and character would never engage in acts as seemingly outlandish as protracted, hallucinatory conversations with her dead husband. Such speculation, they assert, is not only disrespectful but also patently unrealistic. But how do we know with certainty that this isn’t happening with her? Are we inside Margaret’s consciousness to verify such activities? If, indeed, we each create our own reality, then who’s to say that such an existence couldn’t be created with the thoughts of one’s mind, even for a respectable public figure like Margaret Thatcher. Besides, even if this portrayal is nothing more than a piece of fiction, that doesn’t automatically invalidate the narrative’s premise or format; fictional works based on the life events and personal ruminations of historical figures, including everyone from Mark Twain to LBJ, have been staples of Broadway and public television for years, so why not in the movies, too?

Lastly, many have been critical of the movie’s depiction of Thatcher’s politics. However, given the very personal nature of the story, I’d like to hope that audiences can see past the politics and look instead to the picture’s sublime metaphysical content. Again, the film is a fine portrayal of the conscious creation process in action as seen through the eyes of someone who just happens to be a prominent public figure, not a history lesson re-created through a conventional docudrama format.

Many aspects of “The Iron Lady,” such as Streep’s positively phenomenal performance, come as no surprise (she handily does for Margaret Thatcher what she did for Julia Child in “Julie and Julia”). But other elements of the picture are indeed revelatory, such as the skillful direction of filmmaker Phyllida Lloyd, who has stepped up her game remarkably from her last outing in the truly abysmal “Mama Mia!” High marks also go to Broadbent for an excellent (and thus far largely overlooked) performance and to the film’s makeup department for coming up with aging prosthetics that actually look realistic for once.

Streep’s portrayal, however, is, by far, the film’s greatest asset, having earned her a Golden Globe Award for best actress in a drama. She also received nominations for this performance in the upcoming Screen Actors Guild Awards competition and in the recent Critics Choice Awards program, which also gave the picture a nod for its outstanding makeup work. It’s virtually assured that Streep will also pick up an Academy Award nomination for this role when the Oscar nominees are announced next week.

Many moviegoers have characterized “The Iron Lady” as a fine performance wrapped up in a mediocre film, though I believe that assessment really sells the picture short. It’s a captivating metaphysical exploration of how we create our own reality—and how we should exercise care in doing so, because, as the protagonist so articulately and accurately observes, “what we think, we become.”

Copyright © 2012, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.

Technorati Tags: "Julie and Julia", "Mama Mia!", "push the Universe", "The Iron Lady", "The Life and Death of Peter Sellers", Academy Award, Airey Neave, ambition, Anthony Head, Argentina, assassination attempt, beliefs, Brent Marchant, British Prime Minister, Broadway, character study, Cold War, conscious creation, consciousness, consequences, Conservative Party, creation by default, Critics Choice Awards, delusion, dementia patient, destiny, docudrama, European Union, failures, Falklands War, family grocery, Film, flashbacks, Geoffrey Howe, Golden Globe Award, Irish Republican Army, Jane Roberts, Jim Broadbent, Julia Child, labor unions, LBJ, life review, makeup, Margaret Thatcher, Mark Twain, memories, Meryl Streep, Movies, old boys' club, Oscar, P.M., Pandora's Box, Parliament, personal ruminations, Phyllida Lloyd, political downfall, politics, post-war England, prosthetics, psychological fog, public television, recollections, revisionist history, roadblocks, Screen Actors Guild Awards, steely resolve, successes, The Nature of Personal Reality, un-conscious creation, World War II

Carlos Galindo (Demián Bichir, right) and his son, Luis (José Julián, left), seek a brighter future in Los Angeles in the absorbing immigrant drama, "A Better Life," now available on DVD. Photo by Merrick Morton, courtesy of Summit Entertainment.

“A Better Life” (2011). Cast: Demián Bichir, José Julián, Joaquín Cosio, Dolores Heredia, Carlos Linares, Bobby Soto, Chelsea Rendon, Richard Cabral, Todd Felix. Director: Chris Weitz. Screenplay: Eric Eason. Story: Roger L. Simon. www.ABetterLife-movie.com, www.imdb.com/title/tt1554091/

So often in life we wonder why things turn out as they do. We ponder the outcomes we experience, especially when they have a significant personal impact on us. But, if we’re truly honest with ourselves, we invariably find that those results are generally driven by our beliefs and expectations, a theme explored in depth in the absorbing drama, “A Better Life,” now available on DVD.

Landscaper Carlos Galindo (Demián Bichir, right) and his boss, Blasco (Joaquín Cosio, left), work hard tending the gardens of wealthy Angelinos in director Chris Weitz's "A Better Life," now available on DVD. Photo by Merrick Morton, courtesy of Summit Entertainment.

Like many who make their way to the U.S., Carlos Galindo (Demián Bichir) desires a brighter future for himself and his teenage son, Luis (José Julián). He spends his days tending the gardens of wealthy homeowners in and around Los Angeles with his boss, Blasco (Joaquín Cosio). He works hard, but, as an illegal Mexican immigrant, he also keeps a low profile, ever aware that even the slightest infraction could get him deported in a heartbeat. He also keeps a watchful eye on Luis; as a single father, he’s concerned that his son might fall prey to the gangs that heavily recruit neighborhood youths.

Carlos’s hopes for a better life get an unexpected boost one day when Blasco announces plans to sell his truck, the primary asset of his landscaping business. Having achieved his business goals, Blasco plans to move on, but, before departing, he gives Carlos first crack at buying the vehicle and taking on his client list. Carlos is hesitant initially, but he realizes that, if he doesn’t make the purchase, he’ll probably be out of a job, since there’s no guarantee that a different owner would hire him.

Carlos decides to take a chance and become his own boss; he borrows money from his sister Anita (Dolores Heredia) to buy the truck and set himself up in business. It’s a big step, one with the potential to deliver great rewards, but one that also carries more risk now that he must assume a higher profile. And it’s not long before he discovers just how big a risk that can be; when he hires an assistant (Carlos Linares) to help him, Carlos quickly has his world turned upside down, threatening everything he’s worked so hard to achieve.

“A Better Life” provides an excellent illustration of the power of expectation in governing the outcomes we experience. As conscious creation practitioners well know, expectations are based on our beliefs, the driving force in what materializes in the reality surrounding us, and that concept is clearly on display here. The picture is particularly effective at demonstrating what happens when conflicting beliefs come into play. For example, Carlos genuinely believes that a better life is possible in the U.S., yet this aspiration is constantly burdened by the conflicting influence of fear that he’ll be exposed as an illegal alien, an element that not only sabotages his hopeful intentions but that also threatens to make his worst nightmares become self-fulfilling prophecies.

On the other hand, the film also shows the malleability of beliefs, that they’re always capable of being changed or rewritten and that even second chances are possible, provided we choose carefully. This is especially apparent in the relationship between Carlos and Luis. As Carlos spends more and more of his time working and Luis spends more of his time with questionable peers (Bobby Soto, Chelsea Rendon, Richard Cabral), we see a father growing progressively worried about an impressionable son, fearing not only for his child’s future but also concerned about the deterioration of their bond with one another. Since Luis is obviously the most important aspect of Carlos’s life, he creates circumstances that draw the two of them back closer together, though it’s a choice that carries potentially high-cost consequences and that may well involve subsequent belief rewrites – changes that, in themselves, may prompt the rise of additional new opportunities for second chances as well.

Hiring an assistant (Carlos Linares, left) proves a bigger challenge than new business owner Carlos Galindo (Demián Bichir, right) bargains for in the immigrant drama, "A Better Life," now available on DVD. Photo by Merrick Morton, courtesy of Summit Entertainment.

Given the subject matter of this picture, it might be easy to let political views color one’s opinion of it, regardless of which side of the fence one’s views fall on. However, I’d like to hope that audiences could find it in themselves to look past such superficial considerations and assess the movie on a deeper level, giving its profound metaphysical themes a critical examination. To be frank, doing less than that, in my opinion, constitutes “lazy viewing” on the audience’s part. Perhaps this is a pet peeve of mine, but I was sorely disappointed when many viewers did just that with the release of “Crash” in 2005, unfairly saddling the picture with a stigma based on oversimplified interpretations that it has carried around with it ever since, despite its critical acclaim and numerous accolades, including the Academy Award for best picture. I would hate to see “A Better Life” befall a similar fate.

With that said, however, I must hasten to add that “A Better Life” is no “Crash,” either. It’s an engaging drama that tells its story well, despite some rather improbable plot line elements, and its narrative is heartfelt and moving, particularly where the father-son relationship is concerned. It’s well acted across the board, and it provides a probing look at a world that most us probably never see.

Impressionable teen Luis Galindo (José Julián, center) becomes a concern to his father when he begins spending more time with questionable peers like Facundo (Bobby Soto, left) and Ruthie (Chelsea Rendon, right) in "A Better Life," now available on DVD. Photo by Merrick Morton, courtesy of Summit Entertainment.

If you haven’t heard of this film, you’re not alone; it had a verybrief theatrical run at independent movie houses last summer, though, if you blinked, you probably missed it. However, the picture’s visibility has risen of late with its DVD release and with two well-deserved best actor nominations for Bichir in the Screen Actors Guild and Independent Spirit Awards competitions (there’s even talk of an outside shot at an Oscar nod, too). It’s certainly heartening to see a small film like this receive some noteworthy recognition, considering how easily its voice might have been overpowered by the noise associated with other larger, better-financed productions.

It’s been said that we should be careful what we wish for, because we just might get it. And therein lies the power of expectations in manifesting the results we experience, especially when powerful elements like fear and conflicting beliefs get wrapped up in the mix. “A Better Life” reinforces that notion, showing us that we’d be wise to choose those beliefs carefully in the first place – and maybe to even think twice before doing so.

Copyright © 2012, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.

Technorati Tags: "A Better Life", "Crash". stigma, "lazy viewing", beliefs, Brent Marchant, brighter future, choice, Chris Weitz, conflicting beliefs, conscious creation, consequences, Demián Bichir, DVD release, expectations, fear, Film, gangs, illegal alien, Independent Spirit Awards, José Julián, los angeles, Mexican immigrant, movie, Oscar nod, outcomes, pet peeve, political views, risk, Screen Actors Guild, second chance, self-fulfilling prophecies, single father

Silent movie star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin, left) and aspiring starlet Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo, right) join forces to help one another personally and professionally in director Michel Hazanavicius's black-and-white silent film, "The Artist." Photo courtesy of The Weinstein Co.

“The Artist” (2011). Cast: Jean Dujardin, Bérénice Bejo, John Goodman, James Cromwell, Penelope Ann Miller, Missi Pyle, Malcolm McDowell, Ed Lauter, Beth Grant, Joel Murray, Uggie. Director: Michel Hazanavicius. Screenplay: Michel Hazanavicius. http://weinsteinco.com/sites/the-artist/

All too often, staying put means staying locked in place, a circumstance frequently distinguished by anguish, melancholy and regret. Allowing oneself to evolve, however, usually leads to satisfaction and boundless rewards. Both sides of this particular coin are examined in the new comedy-drama, “The Artist,” a black-and-white silent movie from director Michel Hazanavicius.

Jealous wife Doris Valentin (Penelope Ann Miller) shows her displeasure over the very public, but accidental flirtation of her husband, silent movie star George Valentin, with an aspiring starlet in the critically acclaimed comedy-drama, "The Artist." Photo courtesy of The Weinstein Co.

In 1927 Hollywood, silent film star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is at the peak of his career, fabulously successful, adored by his fans and rich. He’s so popular that he’s even influential in helping to launch the acting career of movie extra Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo), an aspiring starlet with whom he has a very public chance encounter. Life is good.

But, over the next two years, George’s life begins to unravel. His wife, Doris (Penelope Ann Miller), is unhappy with the publicity surrounding his public flirtation with Peppy. And then comes word from George’s studio head (John Goodman) that the company plans to pursue the production of talkies, a development that George laughingly dismisses as a passing fad of which he wants no part, a decision that eventually results in his dismissal from the studio. Undeterred by these changes, George presses on with silent movie work, writing, directing and starring in a film of his own. But, given the new talky technology, fans ignore George’s picture in favor of fresh, new fare. And, if the shunning of his film weren’t enough, along comes the October 1929 stock market crash, wiping out George and his production company. His public has largely forgotten him, too, his only friends being his loyal chauffeur/valet Clifton (James Cromwell) and his ever-faithful canine co-star (Uggie).

As George’s star plummets, Peppy’s rises dramatically, becoming Hollywood’s new darling. She could have anything and anyone she wants, but she has a soft spot for George. She witnesses his painful descent into drunkenness, bankruptcy and despair, hoping to help him the way he once helped her. But she can do little to assist her friend and mentor unless he’ll allow it, a decision ultimately dependent on his willingness to evolve both personally and professionally.

It’s been said that the only constant in life is change, and the more we make friends with it, the better off we’ll be in the long run. Such thinking is also one of the cornerstone principles of conscious creation, which maintains that we’re all in a constant state of becoming, ever evolving to something new. The more we embrace this idea – and even try to uncover the underlying beliefs to what we’re evolving into – the less distressing (and more enjoyable) the process will be.

We get ourselves into trouble, however, when we stifle this fundamental impulse. This approach is inherently limiting and can become particularly problematic when we allow ego and pride to hold sway over things. Buying into the belief that whatever we’ve created is the insurmountable pinnacle of manifestation only serves to set ourselves up for needless difficulty. Frustration and stagnation set in and, if left unattended, can facilitate in a wide range of related hardships.

Studio chief Al Zimmer (John Goodman, right) has big plans to make talkies as the silent movie era fades from view in the new silent movie tribute, "The Artist." Photo courtesy of The Weinstein Co.

George, unfortunately, allows himself to fall into this trap. By pursuing this path, he winds up materially destitute and artistically drained, left to languish in the memories of faded glory, and all because his foolish pride stands in the way of his creative and metaphysical evolution. Peppy, by contrast, embraces change and reaps great rewards for her decision. She willingly welcomes innovation, and it pays off in big ways. Now if only she can get George to see the wisdom of such thinking.

Following our intuition is the key in such situations, for it generally points the way to discovering our true selves. In many instances, however, we ignore the intuitive messages that come our way, either because they go against the conventional wisdom or seemingly don’t make sense. When these circumstances arise, they represent significant choice points where we can either embrace or disregard the information in question. Obviously, choosing carefully is crucial.

Movie extra and aspiring starlet Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo, left) shows off her newfound notoriety to one of her peers (Malcolm McDowell, right) in Michel Hazanavicius's new release, "The Artist." Photo courtesy of The Weinstein Co.

When George’s studio informs him of its decision to pursue the production of talkies, he rejects it out of hand, because it’s something that hasn’t been tried before and goes against traditional thinking. His out-of-hand dismissal, however, costs him dearly. By contrast, when Peppy has her initial encounter with George, under potentially embarrassing circumstances, rather than shy away from the situation, she makes the most of it. It’s a decision that ultimately sets her off on a path to fame, fortune and fulfillment. We should all be so wise.

For their part, the creators of “The Artist” apparently listened to their intuition about the development of this project. Who would have thought that a silent, black-and-white film would stand a chance in today’s demanding movie market? But the decision to go with it has paid off handsomely in terms of critical acclaim and numerous accolades.

Memories of faded glory is all that silent movie star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) has left to enjoy when he falls from grace in the new silent movie comedy-drama, "The Artist." Photo courtesy of The Weinstein Co.

Overall, “The Artist” is an amusing little film, cute and clever in many respects, with terrific production values and wonderful performances by Dujardin, Bejo and Goodman, as well as the undeniably adorable pooch. The story is a bit predictable – not unlike the pictures of the era to which it pays homage – but it still might have benefited from a little more originality, especially given the unique nature of the vehicle used for carrying the narrative. The screenplay and editing could have used some tidying up, too, especially in the middle.

While “The Artist” may not be epic filmmaking, it’s enjoyable nevertheless (although for those interested in a picture that pays tribute to the silent movie era, I’d much more readily recommend Martin Scorsese’s “Hugo” over this offering). And, despite its shortcomings, the film is cleaning up in the early season awards competitions. Earlier this year, the picture received the best actor award at the Cannes Film Festival, as well as a nomination for the Palme d’Or, the Festival’s highest honor. Since then, it has been showered with nominations in various contests, including six Golden Globe Award nods (best comedy/musical picture, comedy/musical actor, supporting actress, director, score, screenplay), 11 Critics Choice Award nominations (best picture, actor, supporting actress, acting ensemble, director, original screenplay, cinematography, art direction, editing, score, costume design), three Screen Actors Guild Award honors (best ensemble cast, actor, supporting actress) and five Independent Spirit Award nominations (best feature, director, screenplay, male lead, cinematography).

The next time you’re tempted to disregard your intuition or to snooze away in your comfort zone, think of this picture. You might end up reconsidering your decision, and what you reap from your efforts just might leave you … speechless!

Copyright © 2011, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.

Technorati Tags: "Hugo", “The Artist”, 1927, aspiring starlet, Bérénice Bejo, black-and-white, Brent Marchant, canine co-star, Cannes Film Festival, chance encounter, Change, choice point, comfort zone, conscious creation, constant state of becoming, conventional wisdom, Critics Choice Award, ego, evolution, faded glory, fame, Film, fortune, frustration, Fulfillment, Golden Globe Award, Hollywood, Independent Spirit Award, innovation, intuition, James Cromwell, Jean Dujardin, John Goodman, Malcolm McDowell, Martin Scorsese, Michel Hazanavicius, movie, movie extra, October 1929, Palme d'Or, passing fad, Penelope Ann Miller, pride, reward, Screen Actors Guild Award, silent movie, stagnation, stock market crash, talkies

Psychiatric patient Sabina Spielrein (Keira Knightley, left) seeks treatment from famed Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung (Michael Fassbender, right) in director David Cronenberg's new historical drama, "A Dangerous Method." Photo by Liam Daniel, courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.

“A Dangerous Method” (2011). Cast: Michael Fassbender, Keira Knightley, Viggo Mortensen, Vincent Cassel, Sarah Gadon. Director: David Cronenberg. Screenplay: Christopher Hampton. Book: A Most Dangerous Method, by John Kerr. Play: The Talking Cure, by Christopher Hampton.  www.sonyclassics.com/adangerousmethod/index.php

Psychiatric colleagues Sigmund Freud (Golden Globe Award nominee Viggo Mortensen, left) and Carl Jung (Michael Fassbender, right) share professional insights in the new drama, "A Dangerous Method." Photo by Liam Daniel, courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.

Despite recent advances in understanding, psychiatry is a discipline that’s still often misunderstood, even lampooned at times. However, things have come a long way over the years, and they stand to gain further ground with initiatives aimed at promoting greater awareness and acceptance. That effort has even carried over into the arts, such as in movies like the new historical drama, “A Dangerous Method.”

The film focuses on the life and career of famed Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung (Michael Fassbender) from 1904 to 1913, a time when he became involved in two of his most significant personal and professional relationships. The first was with one of his patients, Sabina Spielrein (Keira Knightley), a highly intelligent young woman prone to fits of unexplained hysteria. Over time, Jung helped her discover the source of her behavior, eventually curing her. He even assisted her in launching a career as a psychoanalyst after noting her natural capabilities in this area. At the same time, Sabina helped Jung discover things about himself that he never knew, prompting realizations that made him a better therapist and aided him in his own personal growth.

The second relationship Jung developed during this time was with the father of modern psychiatry, Sigmund Freud (Viggo Mortensen). In many respects, Freud was a mentor to Jung, advising him on various psychoanalytic techniques (Freud’s methodology even played a major role in Jung’s treatment of Sabina). However, an ever-widening gap between the colleagues began to develop over time. Jung, whose vision included a belief in the validity of unconventional notions like intuition and precognition, found Freud’s purely scientific method (and, specifically, his almost exclusive sexual interpretation of patients’ maladies) too limiting. Freud, on the other hand, considered many of Jung’s ideas to be superstitious nonsense that he feared would undermine the credibility of the psychiatric field. Before long, a split occurred between the two, but not until after a significant exchange of ideas occurred, many of which profoundly influenced Jung’s outlook, theories and practices.

While the film’s narrative is ostensibly about a specific period in Jung’s life, its script is in actuality more symbolic and idea-based than purely biographical. Perhaps the most significant theme is the picture’s spotlight on the uncanny parallels between the practices of psychotherapy and conscious creation. Both, for example, frequently require their participants (the patient, in the case of psychotherapy, and the practitioner, in the case of conscious creation) to “go within” and become introspective. The “work” that each does is quite similar; a psychiatric patient seeks to discover what’s behind his or her psychological discomfort, while a conscious creation practitioner endeavors to get a handle on his or her beliefs. And even though these objectives may not be identical, they’re remarkably alike in that both play a crucial role in creating the reality that manifests and is subsequently experienced.

This becomes very apparent in Jung’s therapy sessions with Sabina and with another of his patients, Otto Gross (Vincent Cassel), a referral sent to Jung by Freud. Through probing questions, Jung helps his patients discover the beliefs driving their behavior and, consequently, the reality they experience. Interestingly enough, however, the process also works in reverse: The patients’ answers often shed light on Jung’s own beliefs, helping the doctor to better know himself. In this regard, then, Jung’s patients are externalized projections of his own beliefs, providing him with a mirror of self-discovery and helping to illuminate the reality he’s creating and experiencing, ultimately yielding both professional and personal rewards.

For Jung, the impact of this is perhaps greatest in expanding his understanding of impulses. He comes to see the inherent danger in stifling them, particularly how self-imposed repressiveness can lead to severe behavioral disorders, a condition not uncommon in his time, given the prevailing puritanical values of the period. He also realizes that acting on such unexpressed impulses – allowing one’s true self to surface, to put it in conscious creation terms – is crucial to psychological health and well-being, especially when it comes to those of an emotional, sexual or metaphysical nature, something he witnesses firsthand in working with his patients. This, in turn, enables Jung to see which impulses of his own he’s stifling, particularly those related to the fulfillment of unexpressed sexual desires. As much as he loves his adoring wife (Sarah Gadon), he longs for other carnal experiences and comes to realize the harm he might be doing to himself by leaving those notions unexplored, an awareness that leads him to make some changes in his life. Not everyone may agree with his choices, but at least he’s being honest with himself in making them, assuredly one of the highest attainments one can aspire to as a conscious creator.

Psychiatric patient Otto Gross (Vincent Cassel, left) answers questions about himself that provide insights into both his psyche and that of his inquisitor, psychiatrist Carl Jung (Michael Fassbender, right), in director David Cronenberg's "A Dangerous Method." Photo by Liam Daniel, courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.

But Jung’s journey involves more than discovering the uncharted territory of his waking life. He also probes the inner world of the psyche in ways that his more orthodox peers avoided. His interest in examining such phenomena as synchronicities, telepathy and dream analysis from a scientific perspective drew ridicule from colleagues, especially Freud. The unconventional nature of these ideas was too much for mainstream psychiatric professionals to consider, even with Jung’s insistence on using the scientific method to study them. However, he held steadfast to this vision, exploring it in greater detail later in life.

Jung’s approach to investigating this material raises another parallel to conscious creation, a process to reality manifestation driven by beliefs, the product of a synthesis between intellect (symbolic of science) and intuition (symbolic of spirit). Jung’s interest in integrating both disciplines showed that, on some level, he understood the conscious creation process and was willing to employ it in his research. This was also reflected symbolically in the very nature of the relationship between Jung and Freud, with each colleague embodying part of the process: Freud, the scientist, symbolized the intellect, while Jung, the budding spiritualist, represented the intuition. In presenting this material in this way, the film thus offers quite a fitting tribute to its protagonist, someone who was, ironically, so captivated by the presence – and power – of symbol in our lives.

Despite its many fine attributes, “A Dangerous Method” is definitely not everyone’s cup of tea, especially for more sensitive viewers. As much as I enjoyed it, I can appreciate that many moviegoers might find its talky script a bit tedious and its sexually provocative content somewhat disturbing (I’m honestly surprised this film received only an “R” rating instead of an “NC-17” designation). However, those who are not so easily bothered by such considerations will come away from this picture feeling rewarded.

Despite a loving marriage to his adoring and affluent wife Emma (Sarah Gadon, right), psychiatrist Carl Jung (Michael Fassbender, left) looks for more out of his personal life in the new historical drama release, "A Dangerous Method." Photo by Liam Daniel, courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.

This offering from director David Cronenberg is quite a departure from his usual fare, but it succeeds in many respects. It features excellent performances by Fassbender and Mortensen, who deservedly earned a Golden Globe Award nomination for best supporting actor, as well as excellent period piece production values. The writing covers its material well, with ample wit and no psychobabble and providing viewers with an excellent introduction to the psychoanalytic process, although some of the screenplay’s transitions aren’t quite as smooth as they probably could have been. The movie’s only major letdown is its embarrassingly over-the-top performance by Knightley, who unfortunately lost sight of her role while gunning for hoped-for awards nominations, a real disappointment from an often-underappreciated actress.

Jung’s contributions to the field of psychiatry are sometimes overshadowed by those of his elder Viennese counterpart, though this film helps to make up for that oversight. Jung hoped that the psychoanalytic process could become a tool that would not only help individuals overcome their challenges, but could also serve as a means of personal transformation, a noble goal to be sure. With the recent growth in popularity in philosophies like conscious creation and the law of attraction, one can sense Jung’s influence looming in the background, his ideas closely paralleling those of these more contemporary schools of thought. And because of such practices, we can hope that his vision will indeed one day become a reality.

Copyright © 2011, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.

Technorati Tags: "NC-17", "R" rating, “A Dangerous Method”, behavior, behavioral disorder, belief, Brent Marchant, Carl Jung, conscious creation, David Cronenberg, dream analysis, Film, go within, Golden Globe Award, hysteria, impulses, intellect, intuition, Keira Knightley, law of attraction, Mentor, Michael Fassbender, movie, period piece, Personal Growth, personal transformation, precognition, psyche, psychiatry, psychoanalyst, psychoanalytic process, psychobabble, psychological health, psychotherapy, puritanical values, realization, repressiveness, Sabina Spielrein, science, scientific method, self-discovery, sexual desire, sexually provocative content, Sigmund Freud, Spirit, superstitious nonsense, Synchronicities, telepathy, therapist, Viggo Mortensen, Vincent Cassel, well being, wit

Resourceful street orphan Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield, left) and cantankerous toymaker Papa Georges (Ben Kingsley, right) engage in a strange and often-strained relationship in the new fantasy adventure, "Hugo." Photo by Jaap Buitendijk, courtesy of Paramount Pictures.

“Hugo” (2011). Cast: Asa Butterfield, Ben Kingsley, Sacha Baron Cohen, Chloë Grace Moretz, Helen McCrory, Jude Law, Emily Mortimer, Christopher Lee, Ray Winstone, Michael Stuhlbarg, Frances de la Tour, Richard Griffiths. Director: Martin Scorsese. Screenplay: John Logan. Book: The Invention of Hugo Cabret, by Brian Selznick. www.hugomovie.com/#home

Maintaining the clocks of the Paris train station is the unlikely vocation of street orphan Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield) in director Martin Scorsese's "Hugo." Photo by Jaap Buitendijk, courtesy of Paramount Pictures.

Magic is something to which we all aspire, either in terms of the results we realize with it, the inspiration we draw from it or both. Movies that capture these sentiments are a true joy to behold, and we’re fortunate when they come along to both enlighten and entertain us. That’s why we should be grateful for offerings like the new fantasy adventure, “Hugo.”

Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield) is a resourceful young lad. As an orphaned youngster abandoned by his alcoholic uncle (Ray Winstone), Hugo lives in the Paris train station, tending to its massive mechanical clockworks, a skill at which he has become quite proficient. He survives by stealth, snatching what he needs from the station’s vendors while craftily evading the watchful eye of the scrutinous Station Inspector (Sacha Baron Cohen).

When not fending for himself, Hugo spends his time working on a special project – restoring an inoperative automaton found by his late father (Jude Law), an undertaking he began with his dad before his tragic death in a fire. Hugo’s convinced he must complete the project, because he believes the mechanical man, who appears to be capable of writing, has a message for him from his father. Hugo keeps a notebook of detailed renderings of his silent companion, which helps him figure out what parts he needs to carry out the restoration. He acquires those components by pilfering them from the station’s cantankerous resident toymaker, Papa Georges (Ben Kingsley). But, despite many successful swipes, Hugo’s luck eventually runs out.

Georges is furious when he catches the little thief, knowing that he’s stolen from him many times before. He grabs Hugo’s notebook and threatens to burn it – that is, until he notices its contents, which prompt a curiously cryptic response from the old man. Hugo begs Georges to return his notebook, but he refuses, reiterating his threat to incinerate it. Hugo follows Georges home after work, hoping to figure out a way to retrieve his prized possession, and, in doing so, he meets Georges’ goddaughter Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz), who lives with the grumpy shopkeeper and his wife, Jeanne (Helen McCrory). Hugo proceeds to enlist Isabelle’s help in reacquiring his notebook, an effort that launches a fast friendship.

Even though Hugo and Isabelle don’t meet with immediate success, they share a number of good times together. In particular, Hugo introduces Isabelle to the movies, one of his favorite pastimes and one of the biggest crazes sweeping 1920s Paris – and an activity that Georges expressly forbids Isabelle from partaking in. Despite this prohibition, she falls in love with the on-screen magic, something that wouldn’t have happened if Hugo hadn’t introduced her to it. And so it’s with the simple act of going to the show that everything begins to change. It leads to Hugo finding the missing parts he needs to operate the automaton and to discover its secret message, events that, in turn, help to explain much about Georges – who he is, who he was, why he’s fascinated with Hugo’s notebook, why he’s so embittered and what’s behind his mysterious disdain for the movies. These revelations open new doors for all concerned, with magical results beyond their wildest dreams.

In many ways, “Hugo” is a primer on a variety of conscious creation principles. It clearly illustrates how our beliefs and expectations – for better or worse – yield the reality we each experience. Hugo, for example, is so convinced that the completion of his task is essential to his future well-being that he repeatedly draws circumstances to him that make fulfillment of his vision possible. He carries on, despite seeming obstacles, and he’s richly rewarded for his efforts.

The eyes of the Paris train station's ever-vigilant Station Inspector (Sacha Baron Cohen) are always on the lookout for no good in director Martin Scorsese's new fantasy adventure, "Hugo." Photo by Jaap Buitendijk, courtesy of Paramount Pictures.

Georges, by contrast, lives life in disillusionment, a product of his own misplaced beliefs. He’s so bought into the intractable nature of his circumstances that he can’t see that other options are possible – and that the disillusionment he’s experiencing is itself a form of self-created illusion. He should know better, too, because, as becomes apparent, he spent his early years deliberatelycreating illusions of another kind – illusions that brought much delight to others – and, through it all, he made it look easy. In his later years, however, he came to believe that he couldn’t work that same magic on himself, leaving him embittered, resentful and locked into an easily changeable deception, an unfortunate circumstance, given that he innately knew the contrary to be true.

It’s also intriguing to see such an eloquent depiction of some of the other elements that make conscious creation tick. For instance, synchronicities abound in the film. Whenever particular conditions are called for, they appear on cue, with perfect timing and materialization, as if by magic. Everything comes off “like clockwork,” a fittingly visual metaphor in light of the protagonist’s primary vocation, which itself is indicative of Hugo’s methodology for invoking the conscious creation process.

As a corollary to this, we also routinely see the inherent connectedness of all things, another bedrock principle of conscious creation. In numerous instances, one thing leads to another to another to another in perfect succession, all made possible by the intrinsic linkages that exist among them and the synchronicities that enable the perfect timing of their manifestation. If Hugo hadn’t met Isabelle and taken her to the movies, for example, nothing of what followed would have happened, yet, because the integral connections played out as intended, the outcomes that were meant to manifest indeed did so.

And because everything unfolds so seemingly effortlessly, we see the magic of conscious creation at work. That’s especially heartening to those who doubt the process. Hugo and Isabelle see it, but Georges does not, even if he did at one time. The youngsters thus work the process to bring the magic into being not only for themselves, but also for Georges, helping him to rediscover something he was once so aware of. By doing that, Hugo and Isabelle engage in one of conscious creation’s most laudable pursuits, the concept of value fulfillment, wherein they use their abilities to be their own best selves for their own benefit and for the benefit of those around them. And once Georges rediscovers this for himself, his renewed efforts in this regard ultimately serve to benefit the whole world.

Two friends, Hugo (Asa Butterfield, left) and Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz, right), search for a missing notebook in the new fantasy adventure, "Hugo," a Golden Globe Award nominee for best dramatic picture. Photo by Jaap Buitendijk, courtesy of Paramount Pictures.

Director Martin Scorsese has worked some major magic of his own with this film, one of his best efforts in some time and a huge departure from his usual fare. It’s a fun-filled adventure for all ages, with wonderful performances and excellent period piece elements. And, unlike s

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Movie icon Marilyn Monroe (Michelle Williams, center) arrives in London to shoot the romantic comedy "The Prince and the Showgirl" (1957), escorted by assistant director Colin Clark (Eddie Redmayne, left), in the lavish new biopic, "My Week with Marilyn." Photo by Laurence Cendrowicz, courtesy of The Weinstein Company.

“My Week with Marilyn” (2011). Cast: Michelle Williams, Eddie Redmayne, Kenneth Branagh, Julia Ormond, Dougray Scott, Judi Dench, Dominic Cooper, Zoë Wanamaker, Emma Watson, Philip Jackson, Toby Jones, Michael Kitchen, Derek Jacobi, Richard Clifford. Director: Simon Curtis. Screenplay: Adrian Hodges. Books: My Week with Marilyn and The Prince, the Showgirl and Me, by Colin Clark. http://myweekwithmarilynmovie.com/

Newlyweds actress Marilyn Monroe (Michelle Williams, right) and playwright Arthur Miller (Dougray Scott, left) pose for the cameras in director Simon Curtis's "My Week with Marilyn." Photo by Laurence Cendrowicz, courtesy of The Weinstein Company.

Allowing our genuine selves to shine through can be rather challenging, but it can pay off handsomely if nurtured and allowed to blossom. And it’s true for everyone, from everyday folks to the biggest celebrities, a notion examined in the enchanting new biopic, “My Week with Marilyn.”

In 1956, with her career soaring, Marilyn Monroe (Michelle Williams) traveled to London to film the romantic comedy “The Sleeping Prince” (later retitled “The Prince and the Showgirl” (1957)) with Sir Laurence Olivier (Kenneth Branagh), who also directed the project. This production brought together two of the era’s biggest acting icons for what should have been a breezy, fun-filled shoot. Little did they know what they were getting themselves into.

The events that went on behind the scenes of this often-tumultuous undertaking were chronicled in a diary kept by a young assistant director, Colin Clark (Eddie Redmayne). Colin enthusiastically signed on for the picture to pursue his passion for film and to escape the condescending criticism and overbearing scrutiny of his stuffy aristocratic family. However, in his role as an A.D., Colin was largely relegated to being little more than a “go-fer” (“go for this, go for that…”). So, suffice it to say, it came as quite a surprise when his responsibilities quickly came to include looking after Marilyn, a woman he had adored from afar for years.

At the time, Marilyn needed tending to because she was experiencing a number of challenges. Personally, at age 30, she had just married her third husband, playwright Arthur Miller (Dougray Scott), but she exhibited none of the qualities of a glowing young bride. She was emotionally fragile and vulnerable, with Miller playing more the role of protector than of husband, a duty that he ultimately felt inadequate to fulfill (which Marilyn learned of through her discovery of one of his journals), despite his insistent denials to the contrary.

Marilyn’s fragility was largely brought on by the pressures of her professional life. She was in high demand to portray the quintessential flirtatious, though ditzy blonde bombshell. And, even though she played the part well, both on camera and off, she struggled with self-confidence issues on the set, routinely turning in disastrous performances in initial takes. She frequently doubted her abilities, calling upon acting coach Paula Strasberg (Zoë Wanamaker) to assist her, an effort that consisted more of bolstering the star’s confidence than teaching her anything about acting. On top of Strasberg’s encouragement, seemingly everyone, from Olivier to agent Milton Greene (Dominic Cooper) to co-star Dame Sybil Thorndike (Judi Dench), told Marilyn that she was fine just as she was, but she often questioned the sincerity of many of these compliments (and rightfully so).

Sir Laurence Olivier (Kenneth Branagh), director and co-star of "The Prince and the Showgirl" (1957), has his hands full dealing with leading lady Marilyn Monroe in the new film about their often-stormy working relationship, "My Week with Marilyn." Photo by Laurence Cendrowicz, courtesy of The Weinstein Company.

Before long, the only person Marilyn came to trust was Colin, a young man who seemed very comfortable being himself – and from whom she drew tremendous inspiration. Marilyn was especially grateful to him for “being real,” a commodity rare in the world in which she worked. And so a deep and special connection was forged that lasted throughout the remainder of the shoot.

Many of us have probably experienced our share of issues with “being real,” either with those around us or, more likely, with ourselves. Sometimes we might look at ourselves, dislike what we see and choose to ignore it. Or perhaps we might be so busy trying to please others and live up to their expectations that we never take the time to examine ourselves, never figuring out who we really are. Whatever the case, though, the decisions we make in either of these scenarios are often fraught with many potential pitfalls.

The opposite, of course, is also true. By making the effort to assess ourselves thoroughly and honestly, we get an insightful perspective into our true nature. Being real in this way allows us to probe the intents and beliefs that we use as conscious creators to manifest the reality we experience. And engaging in such an exercise is precisely what the characters in this film attempt to do, even if they’re not always fully aware of it.

Being real means different things to each of the three protagonists, both professionally and personally. For Marilyn, for example, being real means coming to terms with what she wants to do with her career. She epitomizes the role of sex symbol, and she does it so well that it’s second nature to her, both in her roles as on-screen movie star and off-screen Hollywood celebrity, personas that she carefully crafted and that her fans obviously crave. She gets herself into trouble, however, when she questions what she’s created, wondering whether she should try to reinvent herself as a serious actress, an endeavor she struggles with. So this raises the question, if she’s already good at what she does, then why tamper with success?

Acting coach Paula Strasberg (Zoë Wanamaker, left) offers support and guidance to an often-insecure Marilyn Monroe (Michelle Williams, right) in the engaging period piece, "My Week with Marilyn." Photo by Laurence Cendrowicz, courtesy of The Weinstein Company.

By contrast, Olivier is a seasoned actor who’s most at home on the stage, having received numerous accolades for his stellar performances in the classics. Despite such success, though, he longs for the limelight accorded movie stars, a desire that gets him into trouble for trying to be something he’s obviously less comfortable with – and less practiced at.

Colin is perhaps the most self-aware of what he wants professionally, and even though his first movie job may not be all that he’s hoped for, it still sets him down the path of achieving what he ultimately wants. In that sense, then, he’s the most well-adjusted of the three protagonists when it comes to being real in a professional context. In fact, he’s the one who astutely observes that the production is fundamentally flawed, because its cast features a movie star who wants to be an actress and an actor who wants to be a movie star, each seeking to be something that they’re fundamentally not.

Once the film wrapped, each of the protagonists went on to other projects and became huge successes in their respective milieus, and simply being themselves played a huge role in their accomplishments. Marilyn would star in “Some Like It Hot” (1959), one of cinema’s classic comedies, playing a part perfect for her prototypical persona. Olivier, meanwhile, would make a triumphant return to the theater, receiving raves for his impeccable portrayals. And Colin went on to fulfill his dream of working in the movies, becoming a successful documentary filmmaker. Clearly there’s something to be said for being oneself.

Dame Sybil Thorndike (Judi Dench), a supporting cast member of "The Prince and the Showgirl" (1957), routinely boosts the confidence of her young co-star, Marilyn Monroe, in director Simon Curtis's theatrical film debut, "My Week with Marilyn." Photo by Laurence Cendrowicz, courtesy of The Weinstein Company.

Comparable parallels can be found in the protagonists’ personal lives. Marilyn is an inherently free spirit romantically, yet she struggles to be a dutiful wife, a role she’s not cut out for, having already failed twice at marriage and clearly on her way to doing so again. Her disappointments in this part of her life produce much heartache, no doubt contributing to the binge drinking and pill popping that would play a significant part in her eventual downfall. She’s happiest when she’s being an impulsive, uninhibited maverick, and she probably would have been much better off in the long run if she had just allowed herself to be that true self.

Olivier, by contrast, experiences unbearable frustrations in his dealings with Marilyn, because he wasn’t honest with her about his intents. According to Olivier’s wife, Vivien Leigh (Julia Ormond), the only reason he asked Marilyn to be in his film was that he wanted to seduce her, an observation that Leigh openly shares, even though Sir Laurence said nothing of his intentions to anyone. It should come as no surprise, then, that Olivier fails to get what he secretly wanted, either personally or professionally, out of his voluptuous co-star. His working relationship with Marilyn becomes a living hell, a reality undoubtedly borne out of his deliberate deceitfulness.

Actress Vivien Leigh (Julia Ormond), wife of Sir Laurence Olivier, director and co-star of "The Prince and the Showgirl" (1957), knows the real reason why he hired leading lady Marilyn Monroe to appear in his film, and it didn't have anything to do with her acting, one of many revelations to come out in the new biopic, "My Week with Marilyn." Photo by Laurence Cendrowicz, courtesy of The Weinstein Company.

And, once again, Colin is the most adept at understanding who he is and what he wants personally. Even though he relishes the opportunity to work with Marilyn, he also knows, based on that experience, that he’s not cut out for anything more with her, despite the obvious temptation and his longstanding admiration. He’s better suited to the more grounded nature of someone like Lucy (Emma Watson), a young costume girl at the studio. Marilyn sees their budding attraction and encourages Colin to pursue an involvement with her, since Lucy’s better able to offer him a future that she herself can’t.

From what I saw of this film prior to viewing it, it seemed like a nice little piece of fluff, but it’s surprisingly more substantive than I expected, delivering a thoughtful conscious creation message wrapped up in a sumptuous cinematic package. The outstanding performances turned in by Williams and Branagh have awards nominations written all over them, and the lavish production values of this exquisitely re-created period piece stand the film in good stead to earn kudos in areas like costume design, art direction and makeup. The writing is smart and crisp, portraying its multidimensional heroine superbly without ever resorting to sensationalism or cliché. This is a hard picture to walk away from disappointed.

Being real makes it possible to open doors that might otherwise remain locked shut. The experiences of the protagonists in “My Week with Marilyn” make that abundantly clear, both in instances of when that practice is put to use and when it’s not.

Copyright © 2011, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.

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‘Descendants’ seeks solutions to trouble in paradise by Brent Marchant

What we think of as paradise may not always measure up to expectations, and that can be particularly disheartening if our contributions to its creation are riddled with pitfalls that arise from problematic beliefs and intents. It can even happen in places we think are immune to such irksome concerns, like Hawaii, as is apparent in the new comedy-drama, “The Descendants.”

Life and death collide in murky ‘Melancholia’ by Brent Marchant

Is death the end, or is there more to existence than that? That question has kept philosophers occupied for eons, and some would say we’re no closer to an answer now than we ever have been. Despite that, the debate rages on, with the latest argument being offered up in one of this year’s most anticipated metaphysical releases, director Lars von Trier’s hauntingly beautiful, often-disturbing science fiction fantasy, “Melancholia.”

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Matt King (George Clooney, left) is unexpectedly thrown into the role of primary caregiver to his two daughters, Alex (Shailene Woodley, middle) and Scottie (Amara Miller, right), when his wife is left comatose after a boating accident in the new comedy-drama, "The Descendants." Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.

“The Descendants” (2011). Cast: George Clooney, Shailene Woodley, Amara Miller, Patricia Hastie, Nick Krause, Beau Bridges, Robert Forster, Barbara L. Southern, Matthew Lillard, Judy Greer, Mary Birdsong, Rob Huebel, Laird Hamilton. Director: Alexander Payne. Screenplay: Alexander Payne, Nat Faxom and Jim Rash. Book: Kaui Hart Hemmings. www.foxsearchlight.com/thedescendants/

Distraught husband Matt King (George Clooney, second from left) and daughter Alex (Shailene Woodley, left) are left to inform their wife and mother's parents, Alice (Barbara L. Southern, second from right) and Scott (Robert Forster, right), of her impending demise in director Alexander Payne's latest offering, "The Descendants." Photo courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.

What we think of as paradise may not always measure up to expectations, and that can be particularly disheartening if our contributions to its creation are riddled with pitfalls that arise from problematic beliefs and intents. It can even happen in places we think are immune to such irksome concerns, like Hawaii, as is apparent in the new comedy-drama, “The Descendants.”

Matt King (George Clooney) is a man with a lot on his plate. Professionally he’s a successful real estate attorney acting as trustee for a huge parcel of property that has been in his family for generations, some of whom were members of the Hawaiian royal family. However, with tax consequences threatening to hammer the family financially if the property is retained in perpetuity, he must now find a suitable disposition for the land, one that will benefit both him and his many cousins, a number of whom are broke. Several competing proposals loom, causing some polite yet undeniable discord in the family, which he’s called upon to alleviate whenever discussions threaten to become heated. What’s more, considering the high-profile nature of this pending transaction, the disposition has attracted much public scrutiny. Matt’s got quite a challenge holding everything together.

Successful real estate attorney Matt King (George Clooney, right) consults his trusted cousin Hugh (Beau Bridges, left) about a potentially lucrative family land deal in "The Descendants." Photo by Merrie Wallace, courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.

But, if this weren’t enough, Matt also has major problems on the home front. His wife Elizabeth (Patricia Hastie) lies comatose in a hospital bed after a tragic boating accident, leaving him alone to raise the two daughters he barely knows, 10-year-old Scottie (Amara Miller), a rambunctious scamp who frequently acts out in unpredictable ways, and 17-year-old Alex (Shailene Woodley), an outspoken, streetwise teen who’s enrolled at a private school for students with emotional and substance abuse issues. Matt clearly has his hands full with his kids, but, even though he’s the parent, he’s the one who stands to learn the most from this arrangement, like family secrets that have escaped his attention. The biggest of these is Alex’s revelation that Elizabeth was having an affair prior to her accident, an incident that led to her falling out with her mother and contributed to her subsequent substance issues. Indeed, father might not always know best – or even what’s going on.

As Elizabeth’s health deteriorates, Matt faces some tough prospects, such as notifying her friends and family (particularly her ornery father, Scott (Robert Forster)) of what appears to be her impending demise. Carrying on isn’t easy for him; besides the emotional upset associated with these tasks, not to mention his own personal anguish, he’s also obsessed with figuring out how to confront the man with whom Elizabeth had the affair (Matthew Lillard). And, once the real reasons behind the affair become apparent, Matt’s circumstances become doubly complicated – and even more upsetting.

Given the bombardment of revelations that come Matt’s way,  it’s obvious he’s spent too much of his time on his career and too little of his attention on his family, which has no doubt fueled their “defiant” behavior (and, in turn, his apparent cluelessness as to their actions). He’s also a little tight with the family’s purse strings; despite a fair degree of affluence, he faithfully adheres to his father’s financial advice about giving his kids “enough money to do something, but not enough to do nothing.” He genuinely hopes his work ethic and frugality will instill sound values in his family, yet just the opposite seems to be true, which frequently perplexes him.

Alex, an outspoken, streetwise teen handling a number of challenges in her life (Shailene Woodley, left), leans on her quirky boyfriend Sid (Nick Krause, right) to help her get through her ordeals in Alexander Payne's "The Descendants." Photo by Merrie Wallace, courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.

From this, it’s apparent Matt has never heard of living in the moment, enjoying “the now,” for it’s a moment that will never come again, and, as conscious creation practitioners know so well, the present is the point of power and the only moment over which we have any direct control. One could spend years planning for the future and never get to realize the benefits of it if one isn’t present in that future to enjoy it. Elizabeth, Alex and Scottie grasp this, but Matt obviously doesn’t, so while he’s hunkered down over a stack of legal documents, they’re living life and enjoying themselves (and what better place to do this than in the splendor that is Hawaii). There’s evidently a hugelesson in this for the beleaguered attorney.

Focusing one’s attention on the present moment is very freeing, not only in terms of doing what one wants, but also in terms of being who one wants to be. Again, Matt’s wife and daughters understand this, though he still needs to get the lesson. Being the supremely responsible provider that he is, for both his immediate and extended families, Matt’s convinced himself that he must conscientiously abide by his obligations, following the tried-and-true path and rarely allowing himself to be spontaneous, frequently stifling the emergence of his “true” self. Circumstances push Matt into changing his ways, letting him see that it’s perfectly acceptable to give himself permission to follow his impulses and to live his life the way he wants, even if that life is somewhat out of step with what others expect out of him.

Cheating husband Brian Speer (Matthew Lillard, right) struggles to play innocent in front of his wife Julie (Judy Greer, left) when threatened with his affair's exposure in the new comedy-drama, "The Descendants." Photo by Merrie Wallace, courtesy of Fox Searchlight Pictures.

As inspiring and enlightening as these notions are, however, they don’t receive the full development they deserve. Many of the ideas raised in “The Descendants” feel half-baked, never reaching complete fruition. Perhaps something was lost in the transition of this story from novel to screenplay, but, as the picture stands now, the script comes across more like a first draft than a finished product, with plenty of gaps that could use filling in (some of which, for all I know, may have ended up on the editing room floor). Ultimately, however, the film’s fine acting (especially Clooney and Woodley), beautiful scenery, colorful characters and genuinely funny one-liners aren’t enough to hide a narrative that’s substantively thin and feels incomplete.

“The Descendants” has been receiving considerable press as a strong awards season contender, and the performances by Clooney and Woodley certainly merit serious attention as potential nominees. However, I’d like to hope Hollywood has better offerings in store as the season progresses. In its current form, the film is a pleasant diversion, like a fun trip to a tropical beach on a cold winter’s afternoon, but, as nice as that is, viewers shouldn’t expect paradise.

Copyright © 2011, by Brent Marchant. All rights reserved.

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