@Randem

Coincidence — the noteworthy alignment of two or more events or circumstances without obvious causal connection, according to Wikipedia — is the theme of the day when considering one of my favorite films: 1999’s Magnolia. However, it is no coincidence that this film is the topic of today’s post, because I will be discussing how Magnolia was one of the vehicles through which Hollywood has made me a better person.

While the introduction — a nearly 30 minute story that seems almost fascinating as a movie by itself — sets us up for a story of coincidence, I have to be honest in saying that I really didn’t detect any coincidence whatsoever in the actual movie. The story was filled with noteworthy alignments of characters in the plot, but their connections were made obvious and far more than casual. In fact, I don’t think it’s about coincidence at all, so much as it is about the hidden truth underneath of coincidence: that sometimes things just happen, and there isn’t always a reason.

This happens. This is something that happens.
We pick up in the film with nine individual stories, each already a crisis in progress, and spend the course of the three-hour movie learning how each present-day crisis is the product of some unresolved issue from the past. This core theme is summed up in the quote, “we might be through with the past, but the past ain’t through with us.”

These nine interwoven stories start out tense, and the tension only builds and builds until we reach a breaking point, where the entire cast sings Wise Up by Aimee Mann. It’s at this point that the point of the story shifts, stopping the focus on who did who wrong, and starting the focus on the fact that they’re just details people hang on to.

In a deathbed rant, we have Jason Robards saying, “Don’t ever let anyone ever say to you, ‘You shouldn’t regret anything.’ Don’t do that, don’t! You regret what you fucking want! And use that, use that, use that regret for anything, any way you want. You can use it, okay?”

It’s dangerous to confuse children with angels
A major part of this theme is how children are so often the victims of the mistakes adults make. Though present with all the characters, this is echoed loudly in the correlation between the young quiz kid and the adult quiz kid. But nowhere is the theme spelled out better than in the womanizing workshop being put on by Frank T.J. Mackie (played by Tom Cruise).

Mackie, we learn, is the unlikely son of tv mogul Earl Partridge (Robards), and has grown up to be every bit of the misogynistic on-air persona as the father he hated for doing the exact same thing. It’s this overflowing source of wisdom who continues the theme with his quote, “the most useless thing in the world is that which is behind me.”

That, of course, pales in comparison to the far more realistic and useful — though certainly less hopeful — advice he gives in the line, “in this life, it’s not what you hope for, it’s not what you deserve — it’s what you take!” We’re getting from Mackie a glimpse of the cause of all that regret being spoken of by Partridge.

Can you learn from a womanizer?
It all reminds me of last week’s movie, Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, where we learn about hanging on to pain and regret. Only this time we have a different, yet equally monumental, quote to live by for our response: “I will not apologize for who I am. I will not apologize for what I need. I will not apologize for what I *want*!”

Look. Throughout the film, it’s quite clear that Frank T. J. Mackie is a pig, not someone to be idolized. But I think it’s also clear that he’s a hypocrite, saying all the right things without actually believing them himself. When Mackie refuses to apologize for who he is, it’s rhetoric to get into women’s pants, but this line carries with it a beautiful irony in that it contains the answer to his problems, if he’d only take the time to believe in what he’s saying.

Frank Mackie, for all of his good advice, is faking it. He’s seeking validation through sexual experience in the same way that Earl Partridge seeks it through money, Linda Partridge (Julianne Moore) seeks it through martyrdom, Claudia (Melora Walters) seeks it through drugs, and Donnie Smith (William H. Macy) seeks it through answering trivia. But all of them could move forward from their past if they would just accept who they are. We should not apologize for who we are.

We met upon the level, and we’re parting on the square.
Words are nothing without meaning, and only one character in the film seems to have the authenticity of believing the things he says. It’s that authenticity that makes Officer Jim Kurring (John C. Riley) the character we attach to as the hope-bringer in the story. And it’s fitting, then, that the movie comes to an end on his words, “The law is the law, and heck if I’m gonna break it. But if you can forgive someone… Well, that’s the tough part. What can we forgive?”

It really comes down to that. So in summary… You may be done with the past, but the past ain’t done with you. You shouldn’t regret anything. I will not apologize for who I am. What can we forgive?

Have you ever sat and watched two people argue? You know, one of those really ignorant arguments where neither side is listening to what the other says? I’m talking about those really heated arguments, where a lot of things get said in really creative ways with a lot of beautifully poetic language but it’s all wasted on someone else who’s just doing the same thing.

Sure, when you’re in the argument, you’re totally in favor of taking up sides and fighting to the teeth for what you believe in… but if you’re not a part of that argument — if you’re just a spectator — it gets really boring, really quickly.

That’s how I felt about Lions For Lambs. I watched for 88 minutes as two sides of an argument were bantered back and forth, dishing out the same rhetoric I can get on CNN, MSNBC, and Fox News. Hell, next year is election year, I can get this same script on every channel while Hillary and Rudy drone on and on with each other, talking all night but never saying anything.

There wasn’t even a plot. It’s just a pair of contrived situations designed to facilitate the argument, spliced together, with occasional war footage mixed in just to give the audience some token violence for buying their tickets.

Adding to this heaping helping of steaming film excrement is the low quality directing and producing work. A major portion of the movie centers around dialog between Tom Cruise and Meryl Streep, but it’s obvious that the two were never in the same room together during the making of the movie! Both are acting to the camera, and they’re never in the same shot together except for a few short seconds.

Also, speaking of cheap film editing, every helicopter scene is so blatantly computer generated that I, as one of the 9 audience members in attendance at this suck-fest, was offended at the film maker’s low standards. But why should I be surprised? The film maker in question is also the third star of the film: Robert Redford. I can’t help thinking that the making of a movie was only a formality, nothing more than a tedious detail in getting toward his real goal of putting his face on a big screen and whining about politics to people who payed $10 in hopes of being entertained.

Don’t waste your money.