A Sequel Worth the Wait?: Incredibles 2 (4 out of 10)

Fourteen years, famously, after the original The Incredibles, Brad Bird returns the most super family to the screen. It’s a worthy continuation of a mediocre franchise which somehow managed to capture the hearts of at least half a generation, and with the 14-year gap gains the interest of another generation.

Incredibles 2 follows its predecessor in providing an enjoyable two-hour adventure that a viewer can feel great about forgetting as soon as it’s over.

Everything about the film is well executed. The writing: excellent; voice actors: superb; visuals: beautiful. All in all, it was a bit too perfect, with the plot spelled out from the beginning and the characters all acting in predictable manners. Even with the late revelation of the villain’s real identity, there were no surprises in the film. Confusingly, the family is surprised throughout the film by their discovery of Jack Jack’s superpowers, which the audience has seen in the first film and can’t be surprised by.

Despite the 14-year lag in production of the sequel, it is set during the time directly after the first film, leaving no room for character development between the two movies. This has a frustrating effect, with the parents knowing less about their child than the audience does and not providing them time to figure it out. Without any growth in character between screens, the second movie just feels like an extension of the first; not a bad thing, but not an interesting thing either.

While Incredibles 2 leaves nothing to complain about, it leaves much to be desired. It would have been nice to give the characters a bit of time to change in between the films, so it didn’t seem like watching the same superheroes mature in the same ways, ending with the already close family closer than it’s ever been. But it is, in fact, a family movie, and an excellent summer flick to take the kids to see, given that every film can’t be a classic of our time.

3 Principles for Real Life

As a recent college graduate (albeit one who is continuing her education in graduate school), I have been thinking a lot about the pressures of life as an independent adult. I tend to think in circles and find my way back to certain ideas again and again, and all this thinking has brought me to record three guiding statements I never want to forget. Warning: the three things are very interconnected and, I fear, repetitive.

1) Anxiety is silly, so lose control.

I’m sorry to use such a frivolous and shallow word as “silly,” but it’s simply true. To be anxious is to be human, but to be human is to be consumed with small problems with little lasting significance. Thus, the very real anxiety that I feel about my failures and inability to take care of myself comes from placing too much value on things that don’t really matter.

A quick look at Matthew 6 makes it clear that to worry is sin against God; thinking little of God’s power of provision is clear pride on the part of a human who is powerless to clothe even the lilies. If I can remember that my self-absorbed, insecure anxiety is actually pointless, it’ll go a long way toward relinquishing control to the God who does take care of the flowers and the birds.

2) Contentment is a choice, so choose not to fret.

When I’m faced with a task or situation that makes me feel anxious, there are two ways I can treat it. I can treat it like it’s the end of the world. I can fret over it and think about it constantly without creating any solutions to my worry. I can waste my time and energy trying to regain control of something I can’t regain control of.

Or I can realize that it’s not an eternal issue and give up control willingly. I can praise God for the good things about it, be sorrowful for the sad parts, and humble myself enough to trust that a power I can’t understand is still at work. No matter my circumstance, I think it is always better and more blessed to choose the latter.

3) Only one thing lasts forever, so be singleminded.

Returning to Matthew 6 shows us that if you “seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, … all these things will be given to you as well” (Matthew 6:33 NIV). I must say, that verse sums up all three of these suggestions pretty well. This beautiful truth frees me up to set aside things of this world that are eating at me (for pretty pointless reasons, I might add) and turn to things that will provide lasting joy.

Hebrews 1 likewise speaks to the eternality of God himself and his Word. If I focus my energy on him, I can be sure that I am not wasting my thoughts on a being that will be rolled up and disposed of. How many decisions that I make will actually matter me 10 years later? A few. But how many decisions that I make now will matter in a thousand years? One: the decision to take up my cross and follow Christ.

Hope for the Year’s End in Baby Driver

On New Year’s Eve, I want to reflect on another of my favorite films of the year, and on the hope that a fresh start provides going into 2018. Baby Driver delves deep to face hopelessness and despair in human nature, but it skillfully maneuvers back up to the high ground of hope, delivering a happy ending that Edgar Wright must know his audience needs right now. An instant classic, Baby Driver provides all the thrills an audience could want, along with a substantive plot, endearing characters, and legendary tunes.

The plot of Baby Driver is nothing really innovative, but it doesn’t need to be. The everyday guy has made bad decisions leading to a life of crime, but he only has one more job. Along the way, he finds romance and redemption. Typical Hollywood stuff, but made original by the energy and character development.

Baby, with his earbuds and sunglasses, is the perfect representative of a millenial hero. His silence makes him a refreshingly unassuming hero but I struggle to embrace one part of the film and his character. As a millenial, I am slightly concerned with the fact that Baby doesn’t seem to have an original thought in his head. Edgar Wright seems to critique my generation by making every memorable line that Baby delivers is either from his television set, repeating what Doc says, or quoting Debora or even Joe. Maybe after the ending, Baby will be able to move on and create his own life. Perhaps his debt to Doc was stifling his creativity and now that he is free he can become his own man.

And lastly, the thing that makes Baby Driver more distinct than any other film: the music. Strictly choreographed from start to finish, the film is equipped with a soundtrack that renders it the first-ever action musical. Every song moves the story along just as much as the dialogue does and coincides with the action in a way that simply feels right. Edgar Wright draws from multiple decades and genres for a mix as eclectic as the cast of criminals.

Throughout all of the brilliant features of Baby Driver runs the theme of hope in the darkest times. Baby’s youth brings a sense of innocence to Atlanta’s criminal underworld that provides hope of some sort of redemption, even for the most far gone world. Especially looking back on 2017 at the end of the year, I (for one) can clearly see the darkness of the world we live in. But perhaps, Baby seems to suggest, there is some hope in it after all. The suspicion of hope is confirmed with the film’s final scene: Baby and Debora are finally allowed to drive off into the sunset, with Baby leaving all the darkness of his past behind him forever.

 

 

Series note: I am trying out film reviews, because why not? I love watching films and analyzing them. I am committing to reviewing my top three movies of the summer: Dunkirk, Wonder Woman, and Baby Driver. After that, we’ll see if I have concluded that I like writing movie reviews or if I hate it.

Finding Meaning in Senior Year

I really liked high school. By junior year, I had a group of people who I fit in with and the people I cared about cared about me too. I had been in the same community my entire life and as a high schooler it seemed a little bit like I owned it, in the way that teenagers think they’re invincible and that they run their own lives. I was invested in the people around me, and living a productive and fruitful life.

Senior year was a little different though. I was still happy and healthy, but suddenly my high school life in my hometown was in jeopardy. It wouldn’t last much longer, and I had to figure out where to go and what to do. Applying to colleges was stressful because I had never done it before, and I was full of fear that I wouldn’t be accepted or something would go wrong. I have always been afraid of the unknown, and that fear was heavily manifested in college application anxiety.

Even in the second semester of senior year, after I had been accepted to all the schools I had applied to, I was still anxious. I didn’t know which school to choose; it was a decision I felt ill-equipped to make. I actually knew where I wanted to go, but I was still afraid of the unknown and really afraid that I would let someone down. It’s a really silly fear, but I am a people pleaser, and whenever I told someone what schools I was thinking about, I imagined that I could tell they had a specific preference as to where I went to school. In the end, I realized it was my decision and I discovered quickly that I made the right one.

Now, three short years later, I find that I’m back in that stressful position. Senior year of high school seems like a trial run for senior year of college. With college graduation looming, I am faced again with the question of what I will do afterward, and it’s even scarier now because I’m older and need to become a real grown up. This fall semester I’ve applied to graduate schools and I’m again waiting to find out if I’ll be accepted or not.

Already, that other stress of feeling like a disappointment to others is setting in. The graduate programs I’ve applied to are for a master’s in library science. When I tell people I want to be a librarian, it’s clear they don’t know how to react. I hate putting people in this position, where they are surprised and a little confused and definitely think I’m crazy. So my anxiety levels skyrocket when someone asks me what’s next for my life.

There are two lessons that I’m learning to cling to through this second season of seniority. The first one addresses my fear of disappointing people, which I also deal with in many other areas of my life. The truth is this: it really doesn’t matter what others think. It pains me to write it because it sounds so cliche and I’m embarrassed to still struggle with such a simple truth. I still seek the approval of others, even though I have been set free by the blood of Christ. I must now seek the affirmation of only one person, the Lord Jesus Christ, and yet so often I seek it from everyone except him.

The second lesson may be helpful for more people; it addresses the lie that I have to know what I will do after I graduate. The truth here is, of course, that I don’t. I have enough money in my savings to cover rent in case it takes me a while to find a good job. I have plans for graduate school that will lead directly into jobs in the field I want to work in. If I don’t get into the program I want to get into, I’ll be okay. There are plenty of jobs in the area, and I’ll figure out how to do something I love even if it’s not part of my primary employment.

Overall, I need to remember not to panic. I survived senior year once, and I can absolutely do it again. The Lord will see me through this as he has seen me through every other stage of life, and all I am called to do is to serve him faithfully. I’ll leave you with my new year’s resolution: don’t take yourself too seriously. Find joy in the everyday and make plans for the future without becoming fixated on their being perfectly fulfilled.

getting glory

God’s sovereignty is displayed in his status as the author of life. He is The Creator. Every other creator is imitating him. Every other storyteller is simply remixing the elements of narrative that God laid on the table. His story of history is like none other, and like every other.

In the beginning he was in control. He molded the earth and gave men and women life. He gave his people food and beauty and himself. He gave his people the choice to obey him or to leave him. To love him or hate him. And they hated him. They loved themselves, and did not love the one who made them lovable.

When his people rebelled, he ordained grace to them. His common grace covered the earth and his special salvific grace was designated for a man named Abraham. The promise to Abraham widened to include the nation of Israel and narrowed again to enclose a pregnant virgin named Mary. And God gave Mary salvation.

After all his elect are saved, at the appointed time God will sovereignly judge all the earth. He will destroy what he has created with fire. And he will renew it. He will still be The Creator and he will make a new garden for his people.

God has gotten, is getting, and will get glory for himself through this story he writes.

An Open Letter to DC Comics, Warner Bros, Zach Snyder, etc.

To whom it may concern:

“You’re too distracting.” These three words came near to serving as Steve Trevor’s catchphrase in Warner Bros.’s latest DC Comics film, Wonder Woman. They also provide a fitting caution for the makers of the DC superhero movies. And in the spirit of cautionary words, I’d like to offer DC some advice, and a little bit of praise too. First, I want to commend you for the things you’re doing differently from Marvel, specifically for the questions you ask. On the opposite side of the same coin, however, don’t feel like you have to compete with Marvel or in any way do what they do. Finally, most importantly, do not distract your audience: explicitly give them what they come to see. Keep your focus on creating excellent stories with excellent cinematography and well-developed characters, and you will maintain loyal fans like me.

To begin with, I want to dwell on some of the things you’re doing correctly. It sounds crazy, but I am always struck by the color schemes of DC movies. The dark tones reflect the serious nature of the plots and distance you from Marvel’s bright, childlike colors. I think this is one of the primary reasons I still haven’t seen Suicide Squad and really have no desire to (other than the obvious point that you replaced Heath Ledger as the Joker, a character that should never be touched). What is the point of the green and pink? Do you want it to look like a 13 year old girl’s slumber party? But that’s the only time I’ve been uncomfortable with the colors of a DC movie; the others are consistently dark and gritty. You also tend to ask really strong questions. For example, Wonder Woman  investigates the human nature masterfully, asking what men truly deserve. It deals with the balance of justice and grace. In a testament to excellent character development, DC heroes are actually strong enough to touch huge questions like this, which provoke the viewers to serious thought. Even in Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice, a film that I saw and was severely disappointed in, there are maniacs like Lex Luthor who make the audience question the sanity of the world around them and heroes who distrust everyone and criticize each other. You aren’t afraid to wonder what power can do to good people or to pursue the corruption that power accomplishes. For all of these things, I commend you.

Keeping in mind the ways that your films are consistently superior to Marvel films, don’t fall prey to the lie that you have to compete with Marvel. People will have favorite superhero films, but a lot of people (like my sister) will never learn which characters belong to which company. Your job is to make excellent films that tell good stories, while keeping the quality of elements like character development and cinematography high. Don’t try to create a universe. Don’t be tempted to force your viewers to pay to see every movie you make in order to understand a small element of your latest production. Don’t force your viewers to watch a TV series to understand a character’s origin (you’re actually doing quite well on that). If you want to, make TV shows that also tell good stories, but there’s no need for your films and TV shows to depend on each other. I beg of you to not create a universe that demands every viewers full immersion. Keep your superhero films enjoyable for everyone, even if they miss one.

And, along the same lines, don’t distract your audience. Keep the plots in one place, following a single set of characters. Don’t let your scenes be so disjointed that the viewers forget which characters have met and which haven’t. This was to me a flaw (though not the fatal flaw) of Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice. There were too many characters. It was quite enough to introduce Affleck’s Batman (and Eisenberg’s Luthor) without also introducing Gadot, Miller, Mamoa, and the like.  Strive for detailed origin stories, like Man of Steel and Wonder Woman. Let the audience fall in love with one character at a time. Dawn of Justice should have been a simple sequel to Man of Steel, allowing more screen time to Cavill and Adams (who immediately won my heart in Man of Steel) and perhaps introducing Affleck without all the conflicting messages about who the real villain was. Keep the focus of your films on the plot, on the characters, and on the introspection.

Overall, you’re doing a great job. That’s why I’m still around. That’s why my heart still flutters when I see the opening shots of a DC film and I think “Marvel can’t do that.” I doubted you for a moment, but Wonder Woman brought me back and I hope I can trust you to deliver with Justice League. Keep doing what you’re doing as far as major themes and motifs. Carefully avoid the avarice that will tell you to ensnare viewers in a money trap. And keep it simple, you’ve got time to explore all the avenues you want to. Your audience isn’t going anywhere unless you keep disappointing with bad casting and poor plotting. Mostly, I want you to know that I’m still here and that I’m excited about Wonder Woman, and really happy to see you bounce back from Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice (I wish it had been better, I really do).