I had a surreal experience yesterday. I watched District 9.
Well, watching a movie, no matter how insane, is almost never a surreal experience (Eraserhead is an exception, but I don’t necessarily recommend that to anyone, either). District 9 is a good film, using aliens who have faced a disaster who are then moved into refugee camps by people of Johannesburg, South Africa, as a way of speaking of humans inhumanity to other humans, although of different kinds. It is science fiction social commentary at its best—working at the level of a compelling story and a coherent commentary on the myopic nature of our culture.
Just before I plugged the movie in, I received the latest news in a terribly tragic story of one of the homeless community in Gresham. Mike Bighaus is a man who has been schizophrenic for years, with little or no help. Without any housing or nurses, he would go into a clinic to get his medication only as he was mentally stable enough to go through the extra effort. He knew he needed his medication. He would see things no one else could see, and sometimes had self-aggrandizing visions. He would occasionally be so irrational as to be threatening, but the homeless community knew how to deal with him, and there were few problems.
Over this last holiday season, he had failed to get his latest medication before the clinics closed for Christmas, but he already had plans to stay at his parents’ house over the holidays, so he figured all would be well. His mother was a caring nurse practitioner, and his father was retired. They would care for him.
Christmas night, he took the rifle he parents kept in their home and shot his mother to death. The police were called immediately but Mike had wandered about the Oregon community with the rifle. They blocked roads, sent out alerts, sent police cars all over the community. Many hours later Mike comes walking back home with the rifle as if nothing had happened. The police surrounded him and Mike surrendered the rifle with no resistance. He was immediately arrested.
He had his first hearing, where he was strapped down, both head and body, and his mouth gagged. He muttered throughout the arraignment, possibly not even knowing what was going on. In his second arraignment, where he was indicted for murder, he was not even present, being in the hospital for a leg infection.
Last night, I found out that the infection was one of the antibiotic resistant infections. So they amputated his leg, without consulting family. His other leg also has an infection and so they are looking to amputate this leg as well.
This was all running through my mind as I watched District 9, and I thought of the mentally ill. The mentally ill are often placed in homes or camps, apart from the rest of humanity. There are ways to solve some of their issues—granting housing where helpful medication can be offered, or providing employment that would work around their mental weaknesses—but few seem to be thinking of how the mentally ill can actually be helped as individuals. They are seen as a pathetic, stupid, dangerous group. They are rarely dangerous, and in fact, they rarely use the capacity for violence they have—they are statistically less likely to use violence than “normal” groups. But because they need some extra attention and thought, they are rather just ignored, cast aside. Eventually policies will be made against them “for their own good”, which is really for the comfort of society. If this means more end up in prison, or locked up in mental health facilities, even though preventative care could mean a semi-productive life, then so be it.
The mentally ill truly are the aliens in society. And yet the difference is, they didn’t come from a spaceship, hovering over our homes, but they are part of our own families, we grew up with them. But when they become homeless, although they’ve lived in our communities all of our lives, they become “transients.” When they are seen at soup kitchens, they become “bums” although they’ve done all they can do to survive. Even though legal medications didn’t help their ailments, or they couldn’t afford them, when they use illegal drugs to help them feel better they are “addicts.” And when they are unable to fill out the complicated paperwork for assistance from the government because of their social weaknesses or depression, it is considered that they didn’t “ask for help.”
Of course I have no sympathy for Mike being arrested. He is clearly dangerous and needs to be restrained. What I am saying is that this tragedy could have been averted, if Mike had been cared for by more than just his family. He needed a community with resources to get behind him, giving him the medications on a regular basis that he did not resist taking, and his mother could be alive today. He wouldn’t be in prison. He wouldn’t have his leg amputated because care would have been given ahead of time. Or, if he hadn’t been in jail at the time of this severe infection, they might have tried alternative treatments—of which there are many—instead of jumping to amputation.
Mike has been dehumanized. And it could be said that he deserves it because he shot his mother, and I could understand that perspective. But he was dehumanized long before this crime, when he had to live with his severe mental illness, with little or no help. When he needed assistance, he was blamed for that which he could not control.
And I think the best lesson I learned in watching District 9 at the same time of hearing of Mike’s amputation is that dehumanization of the poor and needy do not dehumanize the one being treated poorly. It ultimately makes the authorities less than human. In District 9, it is clear that it was not the aliens that were unhuman—they had very human responses to their situation. Rather it is the police, the system, the family that judges that becomes less than human.
In the case of Mike Bighaus, who is less than human? Mike, who has been struggling with his illness and left to his own devises? Or the system who ignored Mike until he had become so ill that he killed his mother? The system that takes away his legs without searching for other treatments? The system who treats Mike as little more than an animal?
I have great sympathy for Mike’s family. They didn’t know what to do with Mike and then they face this tragedy. It was Mike’s cousin, who sent me a message about his amputated leg, horrified at the treatment Mike has been given.
I also pray for this system that treats the poor like semi-human. May God teach the “justice” system how to be fully human.
Showing posts with label Movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Movies. Show all posts
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Tideland
I am absolutely stunned by this movie. It made me nervous at first to have Terry Gilliam give an apologetic for the movie just before it began. But after watching it for ten minutes I understood. The film is exposing this young girl to everything that parents want to protect their children from-- and some things we would want to protect anyone from-- and then observing her reactions. It is a wonderful, terrible feeling, watching this movie. On the one hand, you want to save this girl-- much like in Pan's Labyrinth-- but on the other, you are amazed at her resilience, her wonder, her determination not to be afraid at all cost.
And Jodelle Ferland is spot on. She plays the precocious child (of which I fathered at least one) with exactness. Nothing can phase her, for everything is new, and wondrous and whatever she doesn't care for, she will just reinvent. Jodelle was utterly believable, and I think that few could really pull this off.
In a way, this movie did what A.I.: Artificial Intelligence attempted and was unable to do. Both AI and Tideland are attempting to put children in very adult situations, to see them from their point of view. Curiously, although I love AI for what it is, that Spielberg film was too fantastic, but this Gilliam film was completely realistic. I believed that everything I saw was possible, no matter how outlandish it seemed. I know people just like Dickens and Noah (two excellent performances by Brenden Fletcher and Jeff Bridges), I know people who could be Dell. Put them in the right situation-- and my daughter (God forbid) in the lead-- and this story would play out.
One of the things it makes me think about is children living in an adult world. Although I protect my children a bit, I've always been a believer in safely exposing them to the adult world sooner rather than later. Part of that is just self defense, because as workers with the homeless and mentally ill, we have drunks, addicts, schizophrenics, bi-polar, etc. over to our house all the time. And these people sometimes become friends with my children (under observation) and then turn around and disappear, or change personalities, or die. While most people wouldn't consider this a great environment to raise one's kids, I think that overall, it's been good. Children really are resilient, as this movie shows. Rather than be damaged for life, they learn to be strong, to deal with people unlike themselves and to be who they are despite what their friends are like.
When Jeliza-Rose gets older, she will shake her head at the experiences she had when she was younger. She might even be ashamed at her ignorance. But because it gave her opportunities to experience what most people never would, she could take that and respond differently to life than others. With more strength, quite possibly.
One last thing to say. The ending was perfect. It was both a natural outcome of the story, and a complete finish. Just perfect.
And Jodelle Ferland is spot on. She plays the precocious child (of which I fathered at least one) with exactness. Nothing can phase her, for everything is new, and wondrous and whatever she doesn't care for, she will just reinvent. Jodelle was utterly believable, and I think that few could really pull this off.
In a way, this movie did what A.I.: Artificial Intelligence attempted and was unable to do. Both AI and Tideland are attempting to put children in very adult situations, to see them from their point of view. Curiously, although I love AI for what it is, that Spielberg film was too fantastic, but this Gilliam film was completely realistic. I believed that everything I saw was possible, no matter how outlandish it seemed. I know people just like Dickens and Noah (two excellent performances by Brenden Fletcher and Jeff Bridges), I know people who could be Dell. Put them in the right situation-- and my daughter (God forbid) in the lead-- and this story would play out.
One of the things it makes me think about is children living in an adult world. Although I protect my children a bit, I've always been a believer in safely exposing them to the adult world sooner rather than later. Part of that is just self defense, because as workers with the homeless and mentally ill, we have drunks, addicts, schizophrenics, bi-polar, etc. over to our house all the time. And these people sometimes become friends with my children (under observation) and then turn around and disappear, or change personalities, or die. While most people wouldn't consider this a great environment to raise one's kids, I think that overall, it's been good. Children really are resilient, as this movie shows. Rather than be damaged for life, they learn to be strong, to deal with people unlike themselves and to be who they are despite what their friends are like.
When Jeliza-Rose gets older, she will shake her head at the experiences she had when she was younger. She might even be ashamed at her ignorance. But because it gave her opportunities to experience what most people never would, she could take that and respond differently to life than others. With more strength, quite possibly.
One last thing to say. The ending was perfect. It was both a natural outcome of the story, and a complete finish. Just perfect.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Wendy and Lucy: A Movie Review
Wendy and Lucy is an independent movie, without a music score, filled with wind and wandering and a woman just barely hanging on to hope. It is about a woman who is homeless, hopefully temporarily, looking to go from Indiana to Alaska for work, only to get stuck in Portland when her car doesn’t start, and then her troubles begin.
Where has this movie been all my life? Although this is fictional, I swear I know this woman and her situation with her dog, Lucy, has been repeated many times with people I know.
Below is a full synopsis of the movie. If you are planning on seeing it (and haven't yet), please skip the next two paragraphs:
Wendy enters “Willamette” (really Portland) at night and gets information from some young hobos which confirms her thoughts about going to Alaska for work. She spends the night in a Walgreen’s parking lot, and the security guard tells her she can’t sleep there in the morning. At that time, she finds that her car won’t start, and the garage down the street isn’t open. She counts her money to find that she has barely enough to fix the car, but none for food. She goes into a local store and tries to shoplift some dog food for Lucy, her companion, only to be caught. She is arrested, and Lucy is left tied up in front of the store. Wendy spends half the day at the police station, and when she returns Lucy is gone. She is frantic and begins to call for Lucy around the neighborhood. The security guard tells her about the pound a fair walk away. The next morning Wendy goes to the pound, but no Lucy—they tell her to keep calling. Wendy is told then that the repair of the car would be at least 250 dollars, including towing the car for 50 dollars down a couple blocks.
After using the security guard’s cell phone to call the pound, Wendy spends the night in a nearby woods. In the middle of the night, an older crazy man goes through her pack and begins talking to her. He goes away, but her fear of being attacked causes her to run off and stay awake the rest of the night. The next morning, in front of Walgreen’s the security guard tells her that the pound called. She checks, and the pound says that someone called with a description of a dog that matches hers. They give her the address. The security guard insists upon giving her money and puts it in her hand—it is seven dollars. She stops by the garage and they tell her that her engine is shot, it would cost $2000 dollars to repair. Then she goes to see Lucy, who is overjoyed to see her. Wendy plays catch with her for a bit and she says, “This is a nice yard. I’m sorry, Lucy, but I can’t fix the car!” Wendy leaves Lucy and hops a train to Alaska.
This is a very personal movie. Not only was much of this movie filmed in places where I have lived, but it is a story that I have experienced through others many times. My family and I have been homeless, “couchsurfing”, in the past, but we have been serving and helping the homeless in Portland for 15 years. I have met many people just like Wendy, in even worse situations—no car, no money, looking for work, but stuck in a strange town that has no work for them.
And I know of many people on the street who are deeply attached to their dogs, only to lose them. People on the street, for the most part, are lonely people, bereft of deep relationship. Family has rejected them, like Wendy’s, if only because the family thinks they are asking for something more than they can give. A dog can provide an excellent companion. They are with you, and can literally be your best friend, keeping you company during the day and warm at night. But others, like the grocery clerk in the movie, think that people on the street aren’t deserving of such companionship: “If you can’t feed a dog, you don’t deserve to keep a dog.” And so, if one is struggling, they feel they have the right to take an animal away. I know of three people on the street who have had their dogs stolen from them while they were going to the bathroom, or eating in a soup kitchen. I have had our dog stolen from us, when he jumped our fence and we went after her only a few minutes later. No one seems to understand the depression and grieving that follows such a loss. Perhaps they understand, but they don’t really care. Rather than helping, they would rather pour on sorrow on top of sorrow.
But what is most poignant in the movie is the second-class citizenship of homelessness. The “crazy man” hit the theme of the movie perfectly, as well as the theme of homeless life: “They are after us. They can smell the weakness.”
People sense the weakness of being homeless, the vulnerable position—and while some have compassion, most just have contempt. Wendy kept running into people who demanded money from her, and even the breaks she got were too small to help. The store required her to lose money and her dog, for the sake of a couple dollars of food she was taking. The sheriff’s department told her that if she didn’t pay the 50 dollars she would just have to pay more later, and if she ran away, they would transport her back to face the consequences (although this is what a sheriff’s department might say, it isn’t actually true. She’d only have to pay court fees if she were declared guilty, and a state wouldn’t request transport for a 50 dollar fine). The garage was willing to give her a break, given that she’s strapped-- $230 instead of $250.
Everywhere Wendy turned, there was no one who would really help. Even the security guard only gave Wendy the use of his cell phone and a few bucks—that’s as far as his compassion could reach. Not far enough to save the only friend who truly loved to see her, who truly loved her completely for who she was.
Don’t let anyone fool you. The sorrow of homelessness is not being without a home. It is being without a friend. And sad is the one whose friend is stolen from her by desperate poverty.
Just looking at this film objectively, I should give it four out of five stars. But this is MY movie. It is about my city, my people, my life. It is certainly reflects my experience. I don’t care, objectively, how great this movie is. It is most important to me. 5 out of 5 stars.
Where has this movie been all my life? Although this is fictional, I swear I know this woman and her situation with her dog, Lucy, has been repeated many times with people I know.
Below is a full synopsis of the movie. If you are planning on seeing it (and haven't yet), please skip the next two paragraphs:
Wendy enters “Willamette” (really Portland) at night and gets information from some young hobos which confirms her thoughts about going to Alaska for work. She spends the night in a Walgreen’s parking lot, and the security guard tells her she can’t sleep there in the morning. At that time, she finds that her car won’t start, and the garage down the street isn’t open. She counts her money to find that she has barely enough to fix the car, but none for food. She goes into a local store and tries to shoplift some dog food for Lucy, her companion, only to be caught. She is arrested, and Lucy is left tied up in front of the store. Wendy spends half the day at the police station, and when she returns Lucy is gone. She is frantic and begins to call for Lucy around the neighborhood. The security guard tells her about the pound a fair walk away. The next morning Wendy goes to the pound, but no Lucy—they tell her to keep calling. Wendy is told then that the repair of the car would be at least 250 dollars, including towing the car for 50 dollars down a couple blocks.
After using the security guard’s cell phone to call the pound, Wendy spends the night in a nearby woods. In the middle of the night, an older crazy man goes through her pack and begins talking to her. He goes away, but her fear of being attacked causes her to run off and stay awake the rest of the night. The next morning, in front of Walgreen’s the security guard tells her that the pound called. She checks, and the pound says that someone called with a description of a dog that matches hers. They give her the address. The security guard insists upon giving her money and puts it in her hand—it is seven dollars. She stops by the garage and they tell her that her engine is shot, it would cost $2000 dollars to repair. Then she goes to see Lucy, who is overjoyed to see her. Wendy plays catch with her for a bit and she says, “This is a nice yard. I’m sorry, Lucy, but I can’t fix the car!” Wendy leaves Lucy and hops a train to Alaska.
This is a very personal movie. Not only was much of this movie filmed in places where I have lived, but it is a story that I have experienced through others many times. My family and I have been homeless, “couchsurfing”, in the past, but we have been serving and helping the homeless in Portland for 15 years. I have met many people just like Wendy, in even worse situations—no car, no money, looking for work, but stuck in a strange town that has no work for them.
And I know of many people on the street who are deeply attached to their dogs, only to lose them. People on the street, for the most part, are lonely people, bereft of deep relationship. Family has rejected them, like Wendy’s, if only because the family thinks they are asking for something more than they can give. A dog can provide an excellent companion. They are with you, and can literally be your best friend, keeping you company during the day and warm at night. But others, like the grocery clerk in the movie, think that people on the street aren’t deserving of such companionship: “If you can’t feed a dog, you don’t deserve to keep a dog.” And so, if one is struggling, they feel they have the right to take an animal away. I know of three people on the street who have had their dogs stolen from them while they were going to the bathroom, or eating in a soup kitchen. I have had our dog stolen from us, when he jumped our fence and we went after her only a few minutes later. No one seems to understand the depression and grieving that follows such a loss. Perhaps they understand, but they don’t really care. Rather than helping, they would rather pour on sorrow on top of sorrow.
But what is most poignant in the movie is the second-class citizenship of homelessness. The “crazy man” hit the theme of the movie perfectly, as well as the theme of homeless life: “They are after us. They can smell the weakness.”
People sense the weakness of being homeless, the vulnerable position—and while some have compassion, most just have contempt. Wendy kept running into people who demanded money from her, and even the breaks she got were too small to help. The store required her to lose money and her dog, for the sake of a couple dollars of food she was taking. The sheriff’s department told her that if she didn’t pay the 50 dollars she would just have to pay more later, and if she ran away, they would transport her back to face the consequences (although this is what a sheriff’s department might say, it isn’t actually true. She’d only have to pay court fees if she were declared guilty, and a state wouldn’t request transport for a 50 dollar fine). The garage was willing to give her a break, given that she’s strapped-- $230 instead of $250.
Everywhere Wendy turned, there was no one who would really help. Even the security guard only gave Wendy the use of his cell phone and a few bucks—that’s as far as his compassion could reach. Not far enough to save the only friend who truly loved to see her, who truly loved her completely for who she was.
Don’t let anyone fool you. The sorrow of homelessness is not being without a home. It is being without a friend. And sad is the one whose friend is stolen from her by desperate poverty.
Just looking at this film objectively, I should give it four out of five stars. But this is MY movie. It is about my city, my people, my life. It is certainly reflects my experience. I don’t care, objectively, how great this movie is. It is most important to me. 5 out of 5 stars.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Street Musicians
Recently a filmmaker named Mary Ann Benner has done a documentary on street musicians in Portland called "In Plain Sight."
When talking about street people, we need to include the musicians. They are also panhandling, but in a way that is acceptable to our culture. Nevertheless, they have a hard row to hoe, as they do not know whether they will have a good day or a bad one, a good month or a bad one. Will they be able to pay their rent, buy their food? It is all up to the generosity of strangers.
This documentary has one of the long-term Anawim folks as a featured performer. His name is Kevin Wayne (whose secret birth name is Kevin McFall-- don't tell him I told you!), and he has been leading worship in Anawim and at Peace Mennonite Church in Portland since 1999. He is a fantasic musician, and he still plays every first friday of the month at Sunnyside Methodist (SE 35th and Yamhill).
Anyway, it's great that Kevin got this opportunity.
Do you want to see and hear him? Although the recording of him isn't the best-- he usually sounds MUCH better-- the second clip is really good. Check it out at:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=98013292
When talking about street people, we need to include the musicians. They are also panhandling, but in a way that is acceptable to our culture. Nevertheless, they have a hard row to hoe, as they do not know whether they will have a good day or a bad one, a good month or a bad one. Will they be able to pay their rent, buy their food? It is all up to the generosity of strangers.
This documentary has one of the long-term Anawim folks as a featured performer. His name is Kevin Wayne (whose secret birth name is Kevin McFall-- don't tell him I told you!), and he has been leading worship in Anawim and at Peace Mennonite Church in Portland since 1999. He is a fantasic musician, and he still plays every first friday of the month at Sunnyside Methodist (SE 35th and Yamhill).
Anyway, it's great that Kevin got this opportunity.
Do you want to see and hear him? Although the recording of him isn't the best-- he usually sounds MUCH better-- the second clip is really good. Check it out at:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=98013292
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Movie Review: The Man Without A Past
"The Man Without A Past" by Aki Kaurismäki
Okay, subtitles and foriegn films may not be everyone's cup of tea. But for those who want to understand the homeless and some of the issues they deal with, this movie is essential.
It is played for the deadest of deadpan humor, but it is brilliantly conceived, and it communicates the sense of a homeless community, both those on the street struggling for survival, and those who assist them.
It doesn't flinch from difficult realities, such as gang attacks, the difficulties of not having id and divorce. Yet it is punctuated by moments of humor when one least expects it.
Highly recommended. The humor gets 3 stars out of 5. The depiction of a homeless community gets 5 stars out of 5.
Find out more: http://dir.salon.com/story/ent/movies/review/2003/04/04/man_without/index.html
Okay, subtitles and foriegn films may not be everyone's cup of tea. But for those who want to understand the homeless and some of the issues they deal with, this movie is essential.
It is played for the deadest of deadpan humor, but it is brilliantly conceived, and it communicates the sense of a homeless community, both those on the street struggling for survival, and those who assist them.
It doesn't flinch from difficult realities, such as gang attacks, the difficulties of not having id and divorce. Yet it is punctuated by moments of humor when one least expects it.
Highly recommended. The humor gets 3 stars out of 5. The depiction of a homeless community gets 5 stars out of 5.
Find out more: http://dir.salon.com/story/ent/movies/review/2003/04/04/man_without/index.html
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