A Failing Grade

Like most people, I believe that teachers are wonderful people. They are entrusted with the weighty responsibility of shaping the minds of our young children. Bur for this vital job, they are paid poorly.

So when I learned of a documentary called American Teacher about this topic, I was quite interested in seeing what sort of insight the filmmakers would bring forth. Sad to say, after watching this film, there isn't much one learns about this subject that I didn't express in my first paragraph.

The less said about this film, the better, as it's a tremendous disappointment. The problem here is that director Vanessa Roth (who won an Academy Award for Best Short Documentary as producer of the 2007 film Freeheld) treats this much like a CNN report; to me, this barely had enough insight to merit that comparison. We are given glimpses into the lives of four teachers across the country and they're mildly interesting, but again, they don't tell us anything new or even remotely fascinating.

Another big strike against this film is the dreadful musical score by Thao Nguyen. This is wall-to-wall music - if you can call it that. It isn't very melodic nor does it even remotely highlight what's happening onscreen. (I'd certainly hate to listen to this noise on its own). The score is another example of how music can ruin a film. Can't we simply listen to a teacher tell us his or her story without music, especially when that music is inappropriate? I realize that this might not be of concern to a good number of viewers, but this score drove me up the wall and lowered my opinion of the film even more (the composition that accompanies the end titles is particularly nauseating).

Matt Damon narrates the film and toward the end, he talks about comparisons between countries such as Finland, Singapore and South Korea - the three leading nations in terms of math, science and reading scores - and the United States. We learn that teaching is an honored profession in these lands and that most people there look upon teaching as a life-long occupation; this as opposed to the United States, where many teachers look upon their role in the classroom as merely a stepping stone to another position. This short section is valuable and gives us some insight as to what this film should have been.

Near the end of the film, we get the usual shots of talking heads mouthing clichés such as the "amazing dedication" teachers have or how there is a "compelling public interest" for the best education for our children. As I said, this is low rent CNN stuff that tells us nothing.

What a waste of time. I give American Teachers a failing grade.

American Teachers will be shown on Documentary Channel on Saturday, Sep. 1 at 8:00 PM EDT.

Jerry Lewis Marathon

Something tells me that if I were to host a Jerry Lewis blogathon, I wouldn't receive too many entries. I'll leave you to figure out the reasons why - after you stop laughing, that is.

So no blogathon on the brilliance of Mr. Lewis' directorial expertise - or his moving subtle performances - but I was intrigued to see that Antenna TV - one of the numerous television stations that show old tv shows and movies - will be featuring a Jerry Lewis marathon on Labor Day (I wonder how they came up with that date?). Four of Lewis' films will be shown; two that he directed and starred in: Three on a Couch (1966) and The Big Mouth (1967) and two, in which he starred but did not direct: Don't Raise the Bridge, Lower the River (1968, directed by Jerry Paris) and Hook, Line and Sinker (1969, George Marshall).

I've actually seen three of these films previously and I have to tell you that I was prepared for the worst. There are some dreadful moments, but overall they're not that bad and I have to admit I enjoyed certain moments quite a bit. When you consider the stupidity of so many films over the past two decades that were quick vehicles for sitcom or Saturday Night Live performers, well, these Lewis films don't look so bad.


So you now know what I'll be doing on Labor Day (what does that say about my life?). I'll review the films soon afterwards. Seriously.

Working in Hell

"What was really frightening is that the soldiers I was with were quite clearly scared. They'd never been under fire before. I realized that I had been under fire more than any of these soldiers." 

Christina Lamb, foreign correspondent, Sunday Times, London

I will say this as simply as I can - Under Fire: Journalists in Combat is a brilliant documentary, a film that gives us remarkable insight into the individuals that deal with war on an everyday basis and how they deal with it during and after the atrocities. It is a film that anyone who needs to understand what is going on in the world needs to see.

What makes this work so special is the ease in which director Martyn Burke organizes this film, basically interviews with about a dozen journalists - reporters, videographers and still photographers - who have covered wars around the world over the past twenty or so years. Burke films these individuals against a simple black background, opting at times to display video or photographs behind the reporters, underlining their tales. 

As we listen to these journalists speak of their experiences, we are mesmerized by the intensity of their lives during their time spent in combat. Director Burke realizes there's no need to interview family members or anyone else here, as the stories told by these reporters are what make this such an absorbing film experience. In fact the only person we view in this documentary who is not a combat reporter is a psychiatrist, Dr. Anthony Feinstein, the producer of the film, who helps these individuals deal with their reactions to the madness they witness.

The remembrances of these men (Ms. Lamb is only one woman reporter that is interviewed) are chilling. Jon Steele, a videographer from ITN in London, speaks of the high he gets during his work in combat. "You're never feel as alive as when you're staring death in the face." He adds that war journalists are like "prophets of death and suffering. Like most prophets, we don't end up that well."

Ian Stewart, a reporter from the Associated Press, recalls the incident in which a bullet entered his brain (we also see the x-ray); he is still alive to talk about that moment, while his driver was killed. Several journalists in this film discuss particular incidents in which children or fellow reporters were killed, simply because they stopped in the wrong place for just a split second. The surviving reporters admit feeling a sense of responsibility for these deaths.

A section of the film deals with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), a condition that almost all of these journalists endure upon their return. Several tell us that they cannot embrace their spouses as they need to be by themselves; alienation is a common symptom of PTSD. Other speak of nightmares they experience, although Chris Hedges, formerly a reporter for the New York Times says that these moments "are not nightmares. They're a revisitation of trauma - much worse than a nightmare."

Burke ends the film with a lengthy reminiscence by Canadian photojournalist Paul Watson, who has worked for the Los Angeles Times and the Toronto Star. He recalls the story of how he took a photo of one of the most brutal incidents of the war in Somalia in 1993, when the mostly naked body of a dead American soldier was being dragged through the streets of Mogadishu. The photo earned Watson a Pulitzer Prize in 1994, but it has haunted him ever since, as he believes he had something to do with the desecration of this solider, an action (the desecration of a corpse) that he believes is as evil a thing that any human can do. He tells us how he tried to reach the mother of this soldier soon after the photo was published and the consequences of that experience. He explains why he had to take that photo (I will not give this detail away), but admits that he has never quite gotten over that day. "I don't feel like I'm a good person anymore," he frankly states. 

Early in the film, titles tell us that only two journalists were killed covering World War I, but that over the past two decades, almost 900 reporters and cameramen have died while in combat. The success of this film is that director Burke sits back and lets these people tell their stories simply and matter of factly; there's no embellishing needed to make this work. That these reporters would take the time to relive these horrific experiences in their lives is a testament to their inner strength.

Under Fire: Journalists in Combat will be shown on Documentary Channel at 8:00 PM EDT on Saturday, August 11.

A Wild - and Exuberating - Ride from Oliver Stone

Savages is the movie that Oliver Stone has been trying to make for many years. Never afraid of controversy, Stone has tackled a variety of contentious subjects in his films ranging from political deception (JFK, Nixon) to combat (Platoon, Born of the Fourth of July) to mass murder (Natural Born Killers) to financial greed (Wall Street, Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps). He's always attracted attention but his results have been mixed; I loved Nixon and JFK, liked Wall Street very much, but hated Natural Born Killers. But with Savages, the director has given us a film that is textbook Stone in its grab-you-by-the-throat style of filmmaking that works brilliantly. This is unquestionably one of his finest efforts.

Based on the 2010 Don Winslow novel of the same name (Winslow co-wrote the screenplay with Shane Salerno and Stone), Savages is a disturbing, thrilling tale, a look at the workings of the drug cultures in both California and Mexico. Illegal activities on both sides ensure that the characters - even the ones that appear normal - are savages to some degree, more or less. At various times in the film, a character representing a particular group in the story calls one or more of the opposition a savage (or savages). This common thread unites all of the major players in this grim, violent tale and leaves us with a world that is sordid and filled with many unanswered questions. Given the issues raised in this film, this is how it should be.

On one side, we have three characters who represent the freedom and bliss (if you can call it that) of the drug world of California. Here, Chon (Taylor Kitsch) is the brains behind the outfit, the man who has developed some of the world's finest cannabis. Yes, he makes money off this stuff - tens of millions of dollars - but he puts much of that into helping underdeveloped nations with educational aides. His activity may be illegal, but he has our sympathies and we root for him.

His friend Ben (Aaron Johnson) is the brawn of the outfit, a former combat soldier who uses whatever force he needs to collect debts from drug dealers. His easy good looks notwithstanding, he is a wild tiger ready to pounce on his unsuspecting subjects.

Both Chon and Ben are in love with the same woman, O (short for Ophelia) portrayed by Blake Lively, who feeds off the dual energy of these two. O narrates the story and in one brilliant line, tells us the difference in the approach of the two. "Chon gives me orgasms. Ben give me wargasms." Clearly, O, who loves strolling on the beach and heading to the mall for the latest fashions, craves the yin and yang of this relationship that is the most meaningful thing in her life.

Representing the opposing side in this story are the members of a Mexican drug cartel, the two most powerful being Lado (Benicio del Toro) and his boss, Elena (Selma Hayek), who directs her minions from a distance, watching her players acting out her commands as she gets her thrills watching on a live stream on her computer or closed circuit television. Her love of expensive things (furnishings, horses, jewelry) stands as an ironic contrast to the unspeakable horrors that seem to satisfy her. Her character is the most complex in the film and Hayek's portrayals is among the very best in a collection of fine performances.

Rather than go into all the twists and turns in this story (especially during the last fifteen minutes), I'd rather deal with the look and feel of this film. The cinematography by Daniel Mindel is mainly high key and quite bright, representing the beauty and "good life" of California, all the while making an ironic statement on the glamor of the Southern California seaside where the film originates. Stone's direction is well, frantic to some degree, but it is a controlled madness, as combines his use of different visual looks with imaginative cross cutting (one of the editors is Joe Hutshing, who has performed these chores for Stone on six of the director's previous films, having won two Oscars in the process) to ratchet up the nervous energy of this film. The story is constantly transferring back and forth between countries and characters and Stone displays the same energy here as he did back in 1991 for JFK. As I wrote in the title for this post, it's a wild ride and it's a highly watchable, entertaining film. Stone has been quoted as saying this film is a little bit like a Western and he's right - we root for the bad guys and root against the bad guys.

Except that if this a morality play, the morals here are pretty loose. Are Ben and Chon really good guys? Ben's violent nature moves him to shockingly injure Dennis (John Travolta in a wonderfully disarming performance), the DEA agent who is seemingly their only hope to rescuing O, who has been kidnapped by the drug cartel. Even Chon, who is the peaceful half of the duo, will perform an act during the film that links him to murder.

As for Lado, the evil soul that directly oversees the killings that are routine for his fellow businessmen, while he has no problem shooting someone, he takes time to pause and wonder what he has to do to please Elena, as he confesses in a scene with Dennis. This scene, more than halfway into the film, is a key moment, as we learn that Dennis is not exactly playing it straight. Early on, it is revealed that he is turning his eye away from Chon and Ben's illegal activities, so we know that his actions are tainted, but when he encounters Lado, we understand that Dennis is not acting as a professional, but simply as an individual who knows what side (or sides) of his toast to butter.

Even Elena has a few moments in which to enrouse our sympathies, particularly when she talks with O at a dinner at her hidden retreat in California (she has ceded to O's wishes for some normal food during her time as a captive). This encounter, however, is more than a nice gesture on Elena's part; it is a need for her to talk to another woman, as she deals almost exclusively with testosterone-fueled madmen (this an interesting comparison with O, who has sex with two young, libido-driven men).

Elena confesses her love for her two remaining children, a son and daughter, as her other children were violently murdered, no doubt due to her vicious business practices. She communicates several times during the film with her early 20s daughter Magda (Sandra Echeverria), who wants no part of her mother's life. As she tells O of her loneliness, we sense at least some sense of decency on her part, but we are then shocked as in closeup, she tells O, "Let me remind you that if I had to, I wouldn't have a problem cutting both their throats." Stone immediately cuts to a long shot of Elena and O at this glamorous dinner under the stars as Elena asks the servant to serve the pastry course. It's a chilling moment and this scene is one of the best written, photographed, edited and directed in the film.

"It's been a great ride, " Ben tells Chon late in the film, as they head toward a final encounter with the cartel. "I enjoyed it." That pretty much sums up my thoughts watching this film, one of Oliver Stone's most entertaining to date. It is a film that dares us to watch some horrible and immoral actions by numerous characters and leaves us wondering who among us is not a savage, as least to some degree?

Who is this Batman you speak of?

Gary Oldman

Last night I watched Gary Oldman on the Jimmy Kimmel show. I knew I'd be in for a great time, as he is an engaging and very funny individual. It's nice to see such an accomplished actor have some fun and for Gary, it seems very natural. He was introduced during Kimmel's monologue in which he read an excerpt from R. Kelly's new book (a masterpiece, I'm sure); Oldman put as much effort into his role as narrator of this text as he would have if he were performing in one of Shakespeare's tragedies.

As for the interview with Kimmel, Oldman was there to talk about his new film, The Dark Knight Rises, in which he portrays Commissioner Gordon. This is the latest effort in the hugely successful Batman series, directed with great flair and gusto by Christopher Nolan.

The best part of Oldman's interview was his story about the script. He related the story of the first time he saw it; he received a phone call at his home in England from a studio representative, just to make sure he was home. Then when the rep showed up at his door, Oldman recalled that he was given the script much in the manner of being served a summons to appear in court.

He also recalled an incident in Pittsburgh, where part of the filming took place. He said that he forgot where he put the script in his hotel room and had a cold sweat for about thirty minutes until he could finally locate it. He mentioned that each copy of the script has a serial number as well as a personal watermark. He added that the script is on red paper, so it can't be copied.

Oldman then mentioned that the same thing was done for the Harry Potter script. He got off the best line of the night, when he wondered why these precautions were put in place for a Harry Potter screenplay. "Everyone's read the book!"

This got me to thinking about the attention paid by the studio about the latest Batman script. This is obviously a huge production and the writers certainly don't want anyone stealing it. Given all the hackers and mischievous characters out there, I can't say I blame them. If the script was stolen, anyone could post the thing on a website; there's enough intellectual property that is out there in the public domain and I certainly sympathize to some degree with writers, composers and others about this situation.

But really, this is a script for a Batman movie. No offense to Nolan and the others that developed the story and screenplay, but people are going to see this film for its action scenes, pure and simple. This isn't Chinatown or Wall Street, movies that had a beautifully crafted screenplay at their core, this is a film where the movement on the screen, the costumes, sets, photography and editing are what will excite people. That's not to say there won't be some good lines in there - in fact, I'm sure this will be a clever script, but come on.

I wonder what independent filmmakers who write their own scripts think about the seriousness of protecting a script such as this. The mind boggles.

Ernest Borgnine, 1917-2012

(Los Angeles Times photo)

Ernest Borgnine, who passed away Sunday at the age of 95, was an Academy Award-winning actor who was too often overlooked by critics who wrote about the great movie stars; indeed, his Oscar (for Marty in 1955) seems to be a footnote or point of trivia for many. Yet Borgnine had his own flair on-screen, one that should be recalled.

There are several factors why Borgnine is not generally thought of as one of Hollywood's great icons. Undoubtedly one of the reasons was his physical appearance, as he was not blessed with typical movie star good looks. Another notion may have been the fact that his acting style was not the subtle approach taken by such celebrated performers as James Stewart or Henry Fonda. Perhaps his credibility as a serious actor took a hit due to his years of appearing on television in McHale's Navy. Or the reason could be as simple as time, as many of today's critics and film bloggers weren't even born when Borgnine was at the height of his career.

I will admit to not liking his performances in some films; he seemed to be a bit of a caricature in his role as Trucker Cobb in The Flight of the Phoenix (1965), a film with several wonderful ensemble performances. Yet his rugged physical appearance and deep, often threatening voice certainly added instant credibility to his roles as Fatso in From Here to Eternity (1953) and Dutch Engstrom in The Wild Bunch (1969). You just didn't want to mess with his characters in these pictures!

Then there was his sensitive side, most famously represented by his portrayal of Marty Piletti in Marty; this is the role that he is most remembered for. But another lovely performance he delivered was for a segment of the collaborative film September 11 (2002), a world wide study of what that terrible day in 2001 meant to filmmakers around the world. Borgnine portrayed an elderly widower (the actor was 85 years old at that time) who lived in a small apartment in New York City; his devotion to his late wife, seen in his arranging of flowers for her or laying out her dresses on her bed, is quite touching. Sean Penn directed this short and he was able to get Borgnine to deliver a performance of wonderful humility and heartbreak. It's a side of Borgnine few had seen until then and it's a lovely acting job.

So while there will not be as many loving tributes to Borgnine as there have been for more iconic actors, we should at least remember that here was a movie star who worked for more than 60 years in the cinema, right up until the end of his life. He left us with a number of memorable performances, which is more than enough reason to remember his career.

Sam Auster Speaks! (Part Two)

Sam Auster (Photo ©Tom Hyland)

Here is part two of my interview with director Sam Auster about his upcoming film The Return of Joe Rich. The film opens later in 2012; I saw it at the Chicago International Film Festival in October of last year and sat down with Auster for a lengthy interview (read part one here).

The Return of Joe Rich is the story of a young man named Joe Rich (Sam Witwer), who after being laid off from his job and having his house foreclosed, decides to work with his uncle (Armand Assante) who is a member of the West Side Chicago outfit. The film has many stellar comic moments (especially with Talia Shire, who plays the mother of Joe Rich) and Auster spices things up with interviews of real members of the mob from the 1930s and '40s. These "wiseguys", now in the 70s and 80s are engaging, charismatic individuals who look and sound like everyone's favorite grandfather.

Tom Hyland: As far as getting Armand and Talia, is that something you planned or is this just a happy coincidence?

Sam Witwer: I always wanted Armand for this role. In fact, there were shadows of this script in a script I wrote a long time ago and when I met these guys when I was researching the Giancana script and I transposed some of that into this script. I couldn’t think of anybody better than Armand Assante. I mean he’s a guy that I had cheered since I was a little kid. Also, I had a girlfriend in college who would say, ‘God that Armand Assante is the best looking man I’ve ever seen.’ I’d say, ‘wait, what about me?” I mean she’s sitting right next to me and she’s talking about this other guy!

Anyway, I’d always been kind of captivated by his presence. I said this everyday on the set, ‘Welcome to another day in the Armand Assante school of filmmaking. ‘ He taught me so much.

I’ve got to tell you one quick story. The scenes between Uncle Dom and Joe in the cooler are very intense. Armand, although I don’t think he would call himself a method actor, because he’s a hit-your-mark, say-your-lines old pro. But he would work himself up to that tension, that power.

The first day we’re in the cooler, he’s walking around throwing furniture and swearing, ‘mother fucker’, throwing chairs at me, at my D.P. at the young actors. Sam Witwer is there like, ‘Holy Christ, I gotta get in there with him!’ And it’s funny because Sam, who is an incredible actor and a very smart guy, I saw him picking up on Armand’s motivational technique, so now I have two wild men walking around the set throwing furniture!

A lot of times as a director, you’ll have an actor sometimes, “Give me 20 pushups right now.” And it’s not about conditioning or fitness, a lot of times when people are at the limit of their physical strength, then they’re freer to expresss their emotions. And I think this is what Armand was trying to do; “loosen yourself up, get the emotions out, break down the physical barriers so that the emotions can come through.

So Armand is ranting and raving and throwing furniture and I’m, “OK, let’s walk through it,” and he and Joe are going at it hammer and tong and Armand takes a step and goes in the middle, ‘God damn, mother fucker…Oh, you know if I step here, I’m outside the depth of field.’ So in the middle of this torrent of emotion of acting, he knew when he would step outside the depth of field of our camera and he would mention that to me and boom, go right back to Uncle Dom, caged animal. I was in awe of it! Here’s a guy that’s worked with Sidney Lumet and Ridley Scott and everbody you can imagine and I’ve got him on my set!

TH: Are you going to work with him on the Giancana project? (Auster is working on a script about 1960s mobster, Sam Giancana.)

SA: I talked with him about it and he loved it. He grew up on Broadway, he sings and dances – he does that little dance step with Joe. I think the guy can do anything.

It was in the always in the script for Joe to the little dance step; I wanted him to do a softshoe, but Sam Witwer showed me he could moonwalk. I’m thinking, great! Sam’s an incredible guy because he’s got physical power and he is so limber and he can look really tough and really scary and then boom! In the alley when he’s walking in front of the camera and he’s doing the Michael Jackson thing. The guy can do anything, so I was very blessed.

Talia had read the script and she actually contacted my casting people. She was very interested in the script and I met with her. Talia has that cast on her arm in the movie – she broke her arm two days before she was supposed to fly to Chicago and she said, ‘Sam, if you want to let me out of my contract, no problem.’ I told her, Talia, if you’re up to it, I want you. We wrote the cast in. I think her best line in the film was when she said, “I’ll give you a rap in the head.”

I always wanted Armand. A friend of mine had worked with Armand who’s one of my producers. Armand had shot a bunch of things in eastern Europe. He had won a special award at Cannes for California Dreaming. He’s very well known. A friend of mine, a producer named Robert, had worked with a guy in Romania who knew him well. So he’s two steps removed. We got him the script and two days later I get an email from him. I was with my girlfriend and we immediately opened up a bottle of Champagne. Nothing else happened, we didn’t have the money for the movie yet, but Armand liked the script!

It was my calling card. Sam loved it and he loved it. Talia loved it. Let me get this right. She had heard about it somehow, contacted the casting company, go the script and then had me come to her house. Boy, talk about… I’m going to meet Connie Corleone in Los Angeles! Actually when I get back to L.A., I’m supposed to make meatballs for Talia.

It’s the whole thing with Italian mothers and their sons. I said, what’s really at the bottom of this? Let’s take it to its monstrous extreme. That’s what Talia said. “I get it, Sam. You want me to be a monster. I’m a monster.”

She was saying to me, “I don’t want to be this Italian momma cooking the meatballs, blah, blah, blah. “ I said, Talia, you may be an Italian momma cooking the meatballs, but that is not what this is about. You are a monster.

Mother of all.. it’s a beautiful, wonderful thing. But in most movies, there’s no movie that’s a wonderful thing. Where could this go if you push it too far? Honor, loyalty and friendship – those are wonderful things. But if you push it too far and it becomes the outfit…

TH: And of course, Joe has to drive a Riviera.

SA: Isn’t that a great car? When I was a kid, this guy I really looked up to, drove one of those cars. Split back seat, the tails, a ’73. I thought to myself I wanted Joe to have two possessions, a cool car and his gun. That’s all he has left and he came back from California with the only two things he didn’t have to sell, the only two things he didn’t lose. And obviously, they’re two potent phallic symbols, not to get too Freudian on you. We found that car in a barn outside Chicago.

Just like Joe, it’s always referencing the past. I’m going to be like Joe and drive down the street in that car. Joe in many ways until the end of the film is a very unformed person. He has to learn the hard lessons the hard way and come into the adult world of death and rebirth.

TH: You grew up in a Jewish/Sicilian family in Oak Park. I probably don’t even have to ask the question, but was your life growing up like that in the film?

SA: (Laughing) Very much so. My family is from Chicago. It’s interesting, the immigrant community. My father grew up on Maxwell Street, my mother grew up on Taylor Street, but they both made it. When they had their kids, they bought the house in Oak Park. Back then, people didn’t want to be identified by their ethnic groups, they wanted to be American. It was very important to leave the old neighborhood behind. Little did I know, as Joe said and I put it in the script, “one mile from where I grew up, Johnny Cross.”

In my Sam Giancana script, I don’t call him Sam Giancana, I call him Johnny Crucifixo –Johnny Crucifix. So one mile away, Johnny Cross’s house and Sam Giancana’s house is about one mile from the house I grew up in. But we didn’t know this because my family was shelter the kids from this, it’s not a rough and tumble neighborhood. We’re Americans growing up in the suburbs. There’s trees…

Oak Park and River Forest is ground zero for the outfit. Iaccardo grew up in River Forest, the long time head. As the Italian community moved west, they moved straight west. So you have Taylor Street. They didn’t want to live in the city anymore because they’re nice suburban guys. So right across from the city line, you have Oak Park. Then due west you have River Forest. Then a little bit later, Oak Brook- one more step. You have Elmwood Park, River Forest, a little west of Oak Park.

That’s what Joe was talking about – blood, death and rebirth. Obviously, a heavy duty Catholic upbringing. Jesus - you die on the cross and are reborn something greater than yourself. Joe’s fantasy is to be killed by a real man so that somehow he might be reborn as a man.

Joseph Campbell, the hero of a thousand faces. It’s all about the hero dying for a cause greater than himself. And that’s what Joe says, “every song, every movie, every everything is about that.” That’s what we see in life all the time, people die, but then they’re reborn in their children and their grandchildren and the buildings they make and the movies they make… so it’s a resonant message. So every religion in essence is about that.

That’s the thing about Joe being kind of an unformed character, an unformed person, not willing to really be in the moment and be himself and own his own feelings and very actions until the very end.