Wishful Thinking
A Quick Film Review, 2 Thinkers on Trump, &tc.
Dear Friends,
I am certifiably “under the weather.” Nothing like a bad Spring cold to turn the brain into mush and have the eyes glaze over so you can barely bring yourself to read anything. I’ll admit it: the common cold for me is definitely the “man flu.” Today’s Quarter Inch will probably be riddled with typos, but I will try as best I can to remain lucid.
Last night was an unusual little hiatus in the normal workings of family life. Normally—during non-baseball-season months—the evening hours would be spent having Bailey or Mary read aloud to us (the former, Harry Potter & The Order of the Phoenix; the latter, The Incorrigible Children of Ashton Place). But I was sick, Bailey was working on a time-sensitive sewing project, and Mary was entertaining herself in some other fashion. So I started scrolling through Amazon Prime looking for something to watch. I landed on the 1964 film Becket, starring Peter O’Toole and Richard Burton. I have a very vague recollection of having seen this film at some point in my life, but I might just be remembering clips I’ve seen from the film. It is one of those really long, self-indulgent masterpieces from the age where directors had all the time in the world and didn’t seem to worry about “run time.”
Almost nobody makes films like this anymore. Long stretches of silence, letting the mood linger; scenes that are no more than a long, drawn-out conversation; single angle camera shots (no “cuts”). In fact, I think the only modern director I can think of who does that sort of thing is Quentin Tarantino. He is legendary for taut and riveting dialogues that stretch twenty minutes. Some find this intolerably boring. But what this style does is provide the “space” for actors to shine. Christoph Walz is a superstar because Tarantino kept him on the screen forever (in, say, Django Unchained and Inglorious Basterds) and Walz rose to the occasion and turned in absolutely mesmerizing performances (regardless of the merits of the overall movies—Tarantino is an … acquired taste). Compare to the most successful director today, Christopher Nolan: does he allow a shot or camera angle to linger on the screen for more than three seconds before cutting to something else? He makes great films, but they are made for the ADHD generation.
Becket gives “space” for Richard Burton and Peter O’Toole. Wow. With a few minor exceptions (Burton’s death scene was … not good), it was really impressive stuff. I’ll dump some notes here:
The 12th century setting is very fun—the “High Middle Ages,” a century before Aquinas and just fifty or so years after Anselm.
I hadn’t quite thought of the fact that there would be lingering racial animosity a hundred years after Normans conquered Briton. But the clash between Normans and Saxons are a major element of the film.
It is hard to think offhand of another film that portrays Christianity and the church as positively as does Becket. Oh, the hierarchy is full of knaves and fools and political machinations, to be sure. But the underlying theme is that this is not all just pageantry and show. If you don’t know the story, Henry II (O’Toole) installs Thomas Becket (Burton) as the new Archbishop of Canterbury for the sole reason that as his closest friend, whom he had already made Lord Chancellor of the realm, would be his ally in his constant battles over civil and ecclesiastical authority. And it is a delicious irony, one of those “be careful what you wish for” moments. Becket pleads with the King not to do this, but the King does what the King wants. So Becket takes up the task and … oops … um … sort of … starts taking it very seriously. He is essentially converted and this former libertine becomes a true man of God. This eventually makes him the direct adversary of the King.
The film shows long sequences of high medieval worship, including the ordination of Becket as Archbishop and it is really fantastic. The scene where Becket excommunicates a lord and ally of Henry is incredibly compelling. Theatrical, but sobering.
I found that I could not watch Peter O’Toole performing the role of Henry II without relating it to our current chief executive. I mean, I try not to think about current politics all the time, but, honestly, whatever psychological syndrome Henry II suffered from (and, man, did he have issues) seems exactly that which our current Commander-in-Chief suffers. That, and their personal moralities or lack thereof are the same. Colossal narcissist who simply must be loved. “Did you love me?” is his haunted question to Becket. Henry must be allowed to do whatever he wants, with no higher authority constraining him. And loyalty is the only metric he knows. His own “love” turns to white-hot hate at the drop of a hat because it isn’t love; it is self-love. Those who do not bend to his will must be humiliated and destroyed. Sorry to have to relate the film to current events, but it is a fact that the character “type” is one well-known to history and we turn a blind eye to it at our peril. O’Toole plays it to perfection.
O’Toole reminded me, ever so slightly, of a young Brad Pitt. I think Pitt could’ve done a good turn as Henry II, too.
Anyway, I really enjoyed it and commend it to you!
Did you ever hear the one about the conspiracy theorist who makes it to heaven? St. Peter meets him at the gate and tells him that one of his rewards is that he can ask God, face to face, any question he likes.
So he stands before the throne and asks in a trembling voice: “Lord, who really killed JFK?"
A booming voice responds: “LEE HARVEY OSWALD.”
The man looks at the ground and mutters under his breath: “Sheesh! This goes so much higher than we thought!”
Yeah, so the “JFK” files were finally declassified and released (in characteristically incompetent fashion, exposing the Social Security numbers of living people) and … there isn’t anything new there. Lee Harvey Oswald killed JFK.
There are a few thought-leaders and intellectuals for whom I have a great deal of respect these days, and this week two of them made media appearances that I found noteworthy. Both of them are dyed-in-the-wool classical liberals, which means they are not particularly warm to the new version of “conservatism” represented by Donald Trump and the MAGA movement. But in these appearances, they both hold out some slender hope that Trump’s administration so far is mostly just “bark” and not “bite,” and that in the end the “better angels” will prevail and Trump will not follow through on his worst instincts.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to The Square Inch to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.