Dave | unobtrusive lucidity

A Review of “Chronicle”

“Chronicle” was an eagerly-awaited addition to our Netflix cue since I first read about it, not only because it is a super-hero, science-fiction film, but also because it’s an interesting take on the genre. Staged as a sort of video verite adventure among high school students, Chronicle is a Cloverfield meets Blair Witch meets Heroes mash-up that, despite how that may leave your head spinning, works extremely well.

Part of the reason it works as well as it does is because it follows the adventures of three high school boys through the lens of the camera of one of them, who films life as a coping skill and a type of escapism from a tragic family life that includes an extremely ill mother and an abusive, alcoholic father. The camera lens follows the three boys as they discover a sort of alien artifact (or ship, or something…we’re never entirely certain) that irradiates them and endows them with a series of telekinetic abilities. The three grow stronger as they experiment in the use of their abilities, getting into pranks as teenage boys will, and building unlikely friendships with each other. Andrew develops into the strongest of the three, but is unaccepting of the societal norms that the other two agree should govern the use of their new powers.

What’s fascinating about the development of the story is that the camera…and eventually other cameras…become an extension of Andrew’s character. He verbalizes at one point that he prefers the lens of the camera as a barrier between himself and the rest of the world, and the perspective of any camera lens soon transforms for the viewer into Andrew’s perspective, as he perceives himself as an all-powerful “apex predator” over the rest of humanity. That is, until we meet Casey, who turns her own camera lens to the world in order to enact positive influences. Eventually, the perspective of the viewer leaves the confined realms of these two cameras, and explodes into every camera viewing the climactic action, be they helicopter cameras, police dash cameras, or the swarm of mobile phone cameras with which Andrew surrounds himself as he hovers mid-air at one point. The intentional directorial choice to frame the film in this way is an unusually fresh take on a super-hero film.

Also intriguing about this directorial choice is the stage-like theatrical quality it lends to the film, as special effects are minimal and key parts of the story (was it an alien ship, a meteor, or what??) remained unexplained in a completely acceptable way. The mysteries of the story are maintained in a manner that would cause a more widely cinematic take on this story to fall flat.

As the three main characters explore their new-found powers, Matt ultimately chooses the role of hero, Steve the role of antihero, and Andrew the role of villain. When Steve ultimately turns to a more positive role with his abilities and attempts to turn Andrew away from evil exercises of his power, his fate leaves Matt to step in and engage Andrew in a final epic battle of good against evil. What makes this fascinating, even though it is the only true way such a storyline can evolve, is that it evolves with all three character types in an extremely realistic transformation of everyman characters into superhumans, to say nothing of the fact that we feel sympathetic to the development of the villain.

Chronicle uses the super-hero genre to explore the ultimate view of human life as either utilitarian and expendable (Andrew’s view as he sees himself atop an evolutionary ladder), or as inherently valuable and worth preserving (Matt’s view as he acts heroically to save lives, even of a man he knows to be abusive). Matt displays the nature of a hero in choosing to use his abilities for good instead of evil.

Chronicle is a dark but amazing film that deserves your attention if you enjoy science fiction or the super-hero genre at all, or even if you’re looking for a good suspense film. Add this to your cue, and you won’t be disappointed.

Wish You Were Here

I’ve been accused of having too many interests in life. Or, as some have phrased it, I still don’t know what to be when I grow up.

What’s that? I’ve already grown up?? When did that happen??? I refuse to accept this…

There are a lot of ways in which having the full plate of interests and subjects about which I’m passionate are good. I have a tendency to never get bored, because there’s always something new to read or a new thing to try in one discipline or another. I have several different perspectives that I can meld into any given pursuit, which, as a sort of Burkian principle, helps me to understand things more thoroughly by seeing them through the lens of something else.

The downside is that I’m frequently disappointed by the fact that I can’t possibly pursue all (or even most) of these interests professionally. As much as I would love to make a living at some of them, I’ve only ever been able to make a living with one or two. So, all of these other interests to which I would devote hours of time if I had unlimited hours in my day are left, by necessity, in the realm of hobby.

As a poet once said, the only thing worse than having a job is not having a job…

Still, occasionally I get the chance to combine vocation and avocation in really cool ways, and that energizes me. And I think that these sorts of events are really important, because they let me have the chance to see one aspect of my life through the lens of another, which helps me to understand it all the more…again, that Burkian principle.

There are also times when I read about amazing conferences or events that I’m bummed because I didn’t get to participate in. That’s life. What I find so amazingly benevolent, though, is that those who did attend them take the time to write out the thoughts and takeaways from those events for the good of the public at large. Reading those recollections are encouraging and helpful to me, and give me the boost I need to be creative, to keep my (slightly loose grip on) sanity, and to just get through the day with my head on my shoulders correctly.

Always a nice thing, that. And, as soon as I’m able to either clone myself or to be in more than one place simultaneously, I’ll make it to more of these events myself.

More Moving Thoughts

Thursday of this week was the last day of the day job that I’ve held for the last five years. I experienced an odd bout of sentimentality, which really was the last thing I was expecting. I took this position five years ago when freelancing wasn’t making the ends meet, Karen and I hadn’t been married that long, and we needed my income to be more consistent. I was just beginning to stir up dreams of doing a doctoral degree or an MFA at the time, and accepted the position thinking that I would stay there for one year.

Five years, accomplished financial goals, and one daughter later, I walked out of that office on a quiet Thursday afternoon, into a parking lot that has often found me thinking “it’s Friday!!“, and drove away just as I have hundreds of other times, though now to never return. It’s a given that I will miss my colleagues, because I have been honored to work with a great team there. And, although I’m not sure I can truly say that I will miss the place, or the position itself, I found myself appreciating it in a way that I wouldn’t have had I merely stayed for the year that I had initially planned. Again, evidence that my wanderlust can occasionally be a bad thing.

I suppose that longevity has its rewards. Who knew?

Moving: A Lament

Things like packing your apartment to move your life up the East coast have a strange way of causing sentimentality. That is, the process of packing, of knowing that the apartment we’ve lived in for four years won’t be our home any longer. Of course, you know that when you move into an apartment, and it’s not like I’m feeling any sort of overwhelming separation anxiety or anything, but…

When Karen and I moved into our current apartment from the first one we rented together, I had odd moments of sentimentality. More so this time, though, because there have been some really incredible things that have happened in this one. Foremost on that list is that this is the apartment to which we brought our daughter home after the miraculous event of her birth. I think what concerns me the most about this is that she’s showing some anxiety as the familiar melts away and is replaced by ever-growing stacks of boxes in preparation for this weekend.

The last two weeks have been the process of saying goodbyes for both of us. Last week I was struck quite profoundly by the appreciation shown to me by my colleagues as they treated me to a goodbye lunch for work. The process of making arrangements to stay in touch with others (I’ve even caught myself using Facebook more frequently…and I never thought that would happen), and bidding farewell to places we frequent and to our faith community, have been a strange mix of liberating and sad for me.

Oddly, I’ve felt disconnected at times. That disconnection has made me think that, had I the opportunity to do some things over from the past four years, that I would. Karen and I made the decision to distance ourselves from the faith community that had been our home for some time because we found ourselves in a different season of life. During our previous move, we were overwhelmed with friends giving us assistance. Now, we’re working to get people to come help us. That’s quite a difference. We drifted away from the group of friends with which we were close due, in large part, to my wanderlust. I have a good case of it, and it has both served me well and brought me grief in the past.

I have images that I can recall too quickly of those that I’ve alienated because of the pressing, almost illogical need I feel at times to move on to a different place geographically. I don’t always regret moving forward, but I regret the way I’ve handled that movement with certain people. I’ve been left without people that I think would have become great friends or colleagues, and I’ve grown hopelessly distant from friends that were close at one time, but are no longer in contact with me.

I hope that I’m not so old that I can’t change that tendency. I don’t think I’ll ever change my wanderlust, and I’m honestly not certain that I want to. I can change the level of intentionality with which I approach keeping in contact with others, though, certainly now that carrying out that intention is easier than ever before.

There are things that are simultaneously exhilarating and frightening about the fact that we will live in a different state next week. I can’t wait to experience the different culture in a new way, because, although we’ve frequently visited the area to which we’re moving and I already know it well, I’ve never lived there, and that is a much more intimate knowledge of a place. Changes in place are a welcome, wonderful thing for me. I hope that it is for my family, also.

And I hope that I manage to stay in touch with the friends we leave in this place, as well.

Ladies and gentlemen, while packing the apartment this evening, we’ve encountered some free-floating memories. We didn’t expect this turbulence, so we’ll have to ask you to return to your seats and fasten your seat belts for the duration of the packing.