No, that’s not our Lenten theme this year, although it would rawk.  But our fave season does begin one week from today.  We’ll do three worships here at Emmanuel at 7:30  am, noon and 7:30 pm.  7 am seemed a bit too early last year, and we used to get big crowds for 7:30 pm as opposed to 7 pm.  So there it is, now you know how we choose the times for these services. 

Two current events seem to feed into what I’m thinking of for Ash Wednesday.  Last night’s Frontline episode on WBUR (public television) was entitled “Inside the Meltdown”.  It was as riveting as “Frost/Nixon” was; crackling with the drama that we are all watching unfold daily.  But some of us are being honestly affected by these things.  To that degree, it’s systemic. 

When Bear Stearns collapsed last spring, and Lehman Bros. followed in September, the fear was for systemic risk.  If one of these banks failed, how interconnected were they so that their failure would cause other failures here in the US and around the world?  The failure of these investment banks is one of the big reasons that all the credit has dried up.  It’s cause-and-effect, or systemic.  In a system, there are multiple players: the leaders, the ones in charge, and those who work for the system deliberately.  There are others who participate unknowingly or circumstantially.  I would include myself in that group, even though I didn’t take out a bad mortgage or overextend myself in the housing market.  I have, however, lived outside my means.  So I am not guilt-free.  I am part of that system. 

Biblically, sin spread from Adam and Even to Cain and Abel, and by the time we get to Noah, it had become a systemic risk: something in which everyone took a part.  No one was guilt-free, not even Noah.  Now listen, I am not equating the current global economic crisis to the great flood, but I am saying that we reap what we sow.  If we are part of a system that runs counter to what God intends (for example, greed and avarice instead of sharing and communal thinking), it eventually catches up with us.  All of us.  We’re all swept up in it.  It’s like Mrs. Weeks, my old Catholic school teacher who always felt it necessary to punish the whole class for what Mike Crandall did. 

One of my favorite lyrics comes from Social Distortion frontman Mike Ness: ‘we’re not punished for our sins, but by them.’  I don’t think God is up there watching CNBC and saying that we deserve all this.  Rather, it’s up to us to live in a way that supports all of us, and nuture a system that’s not based on unlimited wealth or unlimited prosperity or unlimited consumption. 

The other issue that’s on my mind is Alex Rodriguez.  For such an unlikeable guy, I like him.  I don’t know why, but I always have had a soft spot for him.  So imagine my disappointment, not that he did steroids, but that he has made such a meal of this apology and defense.  I can tell you what goes into my body throughout the course of a day: some cereal, some tea, maybe some animal crackers.  An elite athlete should know EVERYTHING that goes into his or her body.  Don’t expect me to believe that his cousin just said “hey, this’ll give you some ‘energy’!”  and Alex said “sure” without asking what it was.  Imagine that, someone says to you ‘hey, you look like you could use a lift.’  “OK, what are you thinking of?”  and you’re thinking of a Coke or a cappucino, and they bring out a syringe.  Young and stupid, indeed. 

But to me, the art of the apology is lost in all this, as it has been in our society.  Instead of being sorry that he injected himself with banned substances, he’s really sorry that he got caught.  Even so, once you’re caught, you’ve got to come as clean as you can.  Lay it all on the table.  Don’t let anyone find anything else out.  Go over the top.  Apologize for causing the economic meltdown.  Apologize for having weird eyes.  A good example of this is Psalm 51, which we read on Ash Wednesday.  David apologizes for himself, for being a sinful person, for being part of the system of sin.  But he never absolves himself as an individual.  He does both, going over the top when he didn’t need to.

And why do we need to apologize?  Is it for our public perception?  I know the times I’ve had to apologize to people as a priest have mostly been to repair a relationship.  But that breach of trust, that hurt is always still there.  And I can’t control what the other person thinks, or says, or feels.  So all I can do is let my apology be my own forgiveness, soothing the hurt that I have caused myself.

Catching up a bit this week after spending last week catching up from the previous four months.  Allison and Sarah went to Virginia to visit her family, leaving me to eat nothing but bean burritos and Lucky Charms.  Good times. 

We’re ambling through the Gospel of Mark this year, which is wonderfully quick and fast-paced.  There’s some John throughout the year, which is nice, but Mark’s my favorite Gospel, and I really wish someone would make a movie of this Gospel, as opposed to those from John and Matthew (and even Mel) that have already been made. 

I’ve also been trying to catch up on Oscar-worthy movies, and of course, Jack’s adventures on 24.  Allison and I saw what could be your winner for Best Documentary last night, Man On Wire.  It’s the story of the 1974 ‘coupe’  of Phillipe Petit, a French wirewalker who walked between the Twin Towers.  It’s really fascinating, and it held my attention more than other films (see Slumdog and Button).  Ann Hornaday of the Washington Post had it in her top five films of the year (along with Milk and WALL-E).  The documentary form was better than if someone had written a script telling the story, then cast with Nicolas Cage and Eva Green.  Do yourself a favor and check it out.  The fact that a man was on a wire between the Twin Towers for 45 (!) minutes is worth at least 90 minutes of your time.

I’ll write shorter Oscar Jones and 24 catch-ups this morning to follow!

Full disclosure: I’m a closet wrestling fan.  Although the shine is off the apple now, from 2000 through 2005 I was pretty into it.  To the point to where I’d check out internet rumors.  Yeah, I’ve even ordered some pay-per-view.  I’ve been to a house show or two.  I’ve read some books, written by wrestlers.  Seen “Beyond The Mat”.  Yeah, I’m a fan.

So it was exciting to hear that so many pros had supported “The Wrestler”.  The worst thing is to make a movie about a certain craft, and then have those craftspeople say ‘you got it all wrong’.  Especially wrestlers.  There is a culture, a code, a lifestyle that can’t be faked.  Either it’s real or it’s faked.  And this was very real.

This didn’t get nominated for Best Picture, but it could have.  Mickey Rourke turns in a gritty performance, and although the story can become a bit formulaic, he is as real as it gets in this film.  Marisa Tomei is also up against Ms. Cruz (who stars with Rebecca Hall in “VCB”) for Best Supporting Actress.  Although I think Cruz is the frontrunner, Tomei would be worthy.  I liked her performance, although again, the formulaic nature of the script saps the energy a bit.

My eyes welled up twice…once less than Milk, but twice more than the others I’ve seen.  We’ve got nine days until the Oscars, and I’ve got a few more movies to see: Frozen River and Doubt come to mind.  I read something on Slate this week that made me rethink seeing “The Reader”.  It spoiled the hell out of it for one, but essentially the writer feels the movie diminishes the atrocity of the Holocaust by trying to balance Hanna’s crimes with the fact that she can’t read.  It’s not Holocaust denial, not justificiation, but it’s saying “there is redemption in this story, because she learned to read.”  Anyway, check it out on Slate.

One of my earliest childhood memories was lining up from pre-school at a church in Columbus, Ohio and seeing a stack of newspapers with a headline about Watergate.  I think I knew about Watergate before I knew about Vietnam or Cambodia.  It was my coming-of-age story, at age 4.  Since then, I’ve been fascinated with Nixon, with the coverup and I never miss “All The President’s Men” when it’s on.  That being said, I wasn’t gung-ho for “Frost/Nixon”.  Was it the fact that Ron Howard was at the helm, and he always tends to make things bigger than they are?  Was it fact that I didn’t know anything about Frank Langella?  Or that the only people I knew in this film were Michael Breen and Oliver Platt? 

It was a terrific movie.  Howard’s direction never gets bogged down, the tension is ever present in the actual event, in the interview, and in the interpersonal struggle between Frost and Nixon.  Rebecca Hall is a revelation, and I’m looking forward to seeing her in “Vicky Christina Barcelona” for which Penny Cruz is nominated.  Let me say that again, only more bluntly.  Rebecca Hall is really hot.

But everything was in proportion in this film, like a good wine.  Humor balanced out the tension, pauses worked nicely with the action, and nothing was overdone, nothing was over the top.  It won’t win much, but it’s certainly worth your time.

After last week’s episode, it seemed like we’d be back on track.  We’re getting there, but again, I’m not sure what’s going to happen over the next…16 hours, so we’ll see.  Again, the earlier seasons seemed to build the drama; after the fourth hour, there’d be a little unresolved conflict at the end of a show and it would linger through the week.  Then a bigger one, and so on.  Now it seems like each show is a mini-season: conflict, resolution, move on to next conflict.  There was a wrestler, or maybe a fan I heard once, talking about the change in wrestling (yes, PROFESSIONAL wrestling) shows.  Used to be that two guys would have a problem, that problem would build over a series of weeks, sometimes months, before they’d get in the ring and settle it.  Now, conflict is created in minutes, and before it’s begun, it’s over.  No real drama is built.  Anyway, on to the show:

Plotline: B.  You can see everything coming together.  The dirty Secret Service guy, Dabaku apparently knowing everyone in DC and the White House, the First Gentleman.  We’re getting there, people.

Most Obvious Scene: Jack, Freckles and Agent Moss at the Reflecting Pool.  How ironic that the place we see ourselves most clearly is the site for another 24 pro-torture rant.  Moss is the fickle, Constitution-abiding American, and Jack is the protect-America-whatever-the-cost American.  Which are we supposed to side with?  It would’ve been funny if either Moss had thrown the keys like a girl, or if he fired them at Jack and Jack dropped them. 

For me, this has been one of the most intriguing sub-plots of the season: the justification of extraordinary measures to extract information from suspects.  In the show’s hiatus, the writers had to answer some sharp criticism from all over, including West Point.  When Jack says “they don’t play by our rules…” and things like “I follow the rules, but not today”, at best it makes Jack that hero that would do anything, even damning himself, to save the country.  At worst, it makes him no better than a murderous torturer. 

Best Character: Jack.  I’ve been wanting to hear him talk more this season than just yelling “we’re out of TIME!”  “You don’t HAVE another CHOICE!”  I think they can forgo a few minutes of “will Jack cover 20 miles of gridlock traffic in two minutes?” for a sit-down between Jack and Tony, or Bill, on what it is that they do. 

Best Line: When Jack says to President Cherry, ‘with all due respect, Madame President, ask around”. 

Thing I’m Stoked For Next Week: well, whenever we get to see Jon Voight again.  Possibly no more First Gentleman, although that was a Teri Moment, wasn’t it?  That and the shooting of Agent Vollsner.  And that’s a great thing the show has going for it; the element of surprise.  But it’s like cinnamon, you can only use so much before it starts to overpower everything (see Season Six)

Thing I’m Not Stoked For: Finding out who the mole is at Office Max.  I heard Dennis and Callahan (morning talk show on WEEI Boston) this week postulating that the mole will turn out to be the skeezy blonde, and not Creepy Sean as we all thought.  Either way, I’m not looking forward to more scenes from that office.

I often like to imagine what I would be doing while Jack is saving the world.  Let’s see; from 8 am till now, what’s transpired that CNN would be covering?  The big plane crash, and the almost disasters at the airport and Ohio.  With all that going on, I’d probably be at home with my family, or doing some sort of prayer vigil at church.  I also think about how much drama the American people can stand: in just a few years, they’ve had a president assasinated, another one resign amid traitorous scandal, a nuclear bomb (two, actually) detonated on its mainland, a few biological disasters, what am I missing?  Seriously, what else could we take?  Could Jack handle the economic crisis?

Having said all that, I’m seriously underwhelmed at this point.  Two very bland episodes in a row get us to another familiar point: a simple kidnapping.  Remember the vitality of the first season, when Jack was really just a regular agent trying to rescue his family?  When Teri was killed, we knew it was on, we knew this show meant something more than happy endings.  The second and third seasons followed a similar track: Jack was more the regular guy doing extraordinary things rather than the superhero doing ordinary superhero things.  At this point, I don’t know what the show is willing to risk.  Jack apparently can’t fail, he can barely come to terms with his own part in torture.  What made the first few seasons so good was character development, and this season we haven’t had much of any.

Plotline: C-.  I refuse to go easy on the show anymore.  Let’s get somewhere besides ‘there’s corruption at the highest level of government’.  I’m almost more interested in similarities between the DC FBI office and “The Office”.

Thinnest Plotline: Since there wasn’t much happening, it goes to the brave plant manager in Ohio who sacrificed his life for his workers.  Couldn’t see that coming.

Character That Needs More Playing Time: Bill “Hang Ten” Buchanan.  What happened between him and Karen?  Have they spoken since she sold him down the river?  Where did he color his hair?  Where is the safe house?  Who decorated?  There’s a lot there, if they’d just go into a Teaism and talk.

Improbable Moment: The African bad guy getting away, hopping on a Metro (the red line going southbound into Virginia) then getting off at the Dupont Circle station (my old station–yay!), going to his apartment where he apparently lives a second life with a girlfriend and a 9-5 job.  People in DC live politics.  They know what people, especially war criminals look like.  Serious.  It’s like people in Red Sox Nation would know who the third string pitcher for the Yankees is, what he looks like and where he would eat.  Especially if we equate Sangala with Nigeria, which is what I’ve been reading.  There are tons of Nigerians in DC and Northern Virginia.  He wouldn’t be able to just roam around. 

Thing I’m Stoked For Next Week: Getting back to the old-school 24.  Get a lead, follow it, kick some tail on the way, end the episode with another lead.  Not every show has to end with an impending threat.  I hope this whole “kidnap the first gentleman” idea goes far–the bad guy is desperate. 

Thing I’m Not Stoked For Next Week: Another week of Creepy Sean moping around the office, trying to pretend to work hard, making awkward conversation with Janis (who can’t decide whether she’s competent or not), and generally being a pain in the keester.  When I watched season two or three, I fast-forwarded through all the scenes with Kim and her boyfriend who left the city with a dead guy in the trunk.  God, those scenes were painful, even with Elisha Cuthbert involved.  Same goes for her foray into the forest, where she was chased by a bear and wound up with a crazy survivalist.  This show has missed sometimes, and they should learn.

This episode felt to me like any one of the songs on The Police’s second album “Regatta De Blanc” or The Hold Steady’s recent effort “Stay Positive”; it sounds a lot like what preceded it.  Not much deviation from the standard formula, or what got you here.  That works for successful sports teams, but not for creative enterprises like 24.

Plotline: C.  Not a whole lot happened here that wasn’t happening before.  Our girl Freckles, of course, came out of her shallow grave unscathed, sounding as if she had chain-smoked her way across the River Styx.  Her hearing was back soon enough, even after being shot in the ear not ten minutes before.  She’s a trooper, that agent Taylor.  But she’s still dead to her friends back at Circuit City, except her boss.  I swear, I’m angry if I’m a real FBI agent watching this show.  I’m writing letters. 

Thinnest/Most Obvious Character: President Cherry.  I’m calling her that because a few weekends ago, TNT ran the movie “Signs” about 4,000 times in a row.  Cherry Jones played the part of the smalltown sheriff investigating the strange goings-on at Mel Gibson’s farm.  Now she’s President Cherry.  Anyway, she’s resigned to sticking to her guns and not pulling out of the invasion, even though many Americans are dying, and will die soon.  Her moralism is nice, but now it’s seeming more naive and desperate than noble.  “Let me show you I’m right!  Even if I’m the last one standing, I will show you I’m right!”  I’m glad that guy resigned, even if he was just Secretary of Commerce.  Good for him. 

Thinnest Plotline: (this will from here on out replace the Thinnest/Most Obvious Character segment, unless something warrents its return)  First Hubby Ethan hulking up to wrestle the Secret Service guy off the balcony to his death.  I might have been ok with Samantha somehow fighting the guy off enough to get a stab wound on him–she looks like she can handle herself.  But to have him clench his fists then all of a sudden muster the strength to fight like that…like Hall and Oates, I can’t go for that.

Character I’d Like to Know More: Emerson.  Maybe play a gay angle between him and Tony.  I dunno.  I would just like to think that the bad guys aren’t just really bad and evil, but smart as well.

Improbable Moment: Not so improbable, but hilarious.  When the Chief of Staff looks out the SW window to see the planes collide, he got that look on his face that they showed from the promo.  It reminded me so much of the look on Ted Knight’s face from the final scene of “Caddyshack” when Bill Murray is blowing up the course.  Umm, and as someone who has recurring nightmares of planes falling out of the sky, it doesn’t look like the space shuttle.  There are big pieces falling, intact.  This did not look as scary as one of my nightmares. 

Thing I’m Stoked For Next Week: The previews certainly make it seem like it’ll be more of a blow-it-up and kill the bad guys episode.  Good.  We’re ready for the next level of corruption.  And when Tony turns out to be a double-double agent, you’ll know where you heard it first.

Thing I’m Not Stoked For Next Week: first off, no more Samantha.  We hardly knew ye.  My guess is that the other bad SS guy comes up to the apartment and is shot by a good SS guy who was called to the scene by Ethan’s telepathic powers.  Another thing I’m not stoked for: more interoffice politics at the local Piggly Wiggly.  I mean, I’m half-prepared for Sean to go up to the blonde girl and say something like “I think the copier’s jammed.  Can you help me?”  And Janis would go and complain about it.

First of all, two things.  My home laptop has a keyboard with no ‘b’ key.  That means that we have to automatically paste in the small case ‘b’ using ctrl-v, and just wait for it to work when we need an upper-case ‘b’.  So if I need to say the name of the movie, I will write it thusly:  enjamin utton.

At 2 hours and 47 minutes, you’d better keep things moving and entertaining, and this movie almost does it.  Almost.  David Fincher was smart to cast two absolutely gorgeous humans in the film, rad Pitt and Cate lanchette. 

What turned out to be a wonderful premise though, showing the life of someone who ages in reverse, quickly turned into a mix between a long and annoying homily on life and a more serious version of Forrest Gump.  How Taraji P. Henson got nominated for a fairly forgettable performance as Queenie, I’ll never know.  I’d have gone with Tilda Swinton’s character instead. 

The storytelling in this film, along with Slumdog, deserve some mention.  Where utton tells the story using a diary, read by Daisy’s daughter in a hospital room as Katrina comes ashore, Slumdog uses flashbacks during an interrogation.  For that matter, Milk is told through a tape recorded in case of assasination.  As I watch Revolutionary Road, The Reader, Frost/Nixon, and The Wrestler, may return to traditional storytelling, but for now, I like the change.  Imagine if they did “24″ this way?

As I said before, the story follows a young/old man from his birth in 1918 through his death probably in the mid-1980’s.  When he’s young, he looks old and most of his physicality is that of an old man.  Except his sex drive, so there’s some disconnect there.  When he’s older, he looks younger, and for the most part, his sex drive is still intact.  I guess when you have rad Pitt in the mix, you use it if you got it. 

It seemed that every five minutes there was some pithy statement on life and aging and death that was supposed to be jaw-dropping in its wisdom or something.  That’s one of the things that reminded me of Forrest Gump.  Where that movie had one big line about life being like a box of chocolates, enjamin utton had about 300.  He also inherited a fortune from his real father (as opposed to Captain Dan), and got to do all sorts of things that baby boomers always want to do. 

So if there was a message that I was supposed to get from this movie, I didn’t get it.  Or at least, at 2:47, I forgot it.  Was it about being young at heart?  Was it about making the most of what you’re given?  Was it about imagining rad Pitt as a wrinkled dwarf?  I don’t know. 

Fincher shouldn’t win anything—when you have rad Pitt and Cate lanchette to work with, you should make something a little more coherent.  The make-up and costuming and all that was spectacular.  Full marks.  However, I was expecting a more transcendental experience; something I could preach on, or at least use in a sermon, instead of hearing lots of one-line homilies.

After Slumdog took everyone’s candy at the Golden Globes, I thought “now here’s a movie that’s got some serious buzz going into the SAGs”.  Is there more to it than the romantic, rich/poor drama set in Mumbai angle?  Will the love story be so strong and powerful that I will weep openly in front of strangers?  Will the backdrop of poverty echo 2003′ s City Of God, providing a tinge of moral justice to the mix? 

After staying up way past bedtime to see a 9:15 show last night in Lincoln, the answer was a pretty solid no.  If you don’t know the story already, a young man who grew up in the slums of Mumbai is a winning contestant on India’s Who Wants To Be A Millionaire.  A series of life circumstances help him to serendipitously know all the answers all the way up to 10 million rupees.  I want to start calling our money rupees.  It’s just fun to say. 

What does it say that the only scene that has stuck with me over the past 18 hours is the final bollywood dance number during the closing credits?  I felt the most joy when the young Jamal and the young Latika were twirling each other around.  For a movie that’s won as much as it has won, I was expecting a bit more.

The love story goes back to a childhood episode that reflect the hard-knock life he’s had.  That’s where I get lost–not lost in that I didn’t know what was going on, but lost in that ‘what’s-the-big-deal’ sense.  Directed very ably by Danny Boyle of Trainspotting, Millions, and 28 Days Later, it’s a very nice film.  It’s not worthy of best picture. 

How did Jamal fall in love with Latika?  I needed more.  Was she really that unhappy with the life she had carved out for herself?  Again, I needed more.  Why was Samil a cold-blooded killer one minute, and a loving brother the next?  Why spend the entire movie saying that Jamal should give up on Latika, then sacrificing himself for the purpose of letting them be together at the end?  (If that’s a spoiler for you, trust me, you could see it coming)  

As a friend commented, unlikely, but entertaining.  Maybe it’s my own personal prediliction that veers me towards grittier drama or real stories, but let me say this.  If I made Benjamin Button or Milk, and this movie came in and stole all the awards, I’d be pretty upset.

Which brings me back to Cidade de Deus, or City of God, a brazilian drama from 2003 that was only Oscar-nominated in the best foreign film category.  It lost to Talk to Me, from Spain.  Essentially City is the same story, only without the real romantic fluff.  Not that romance in movies like this is fluff, but it can’t drive the movie in totality.  Not for me, at least.

Watching this show, I’m not sure if I feel safer as an American, having people like Jack and Tony on our side, when the DC FBI office is run like your local Burger King.  I think I’d rather have the first line of defense be a pretty good one, and let Jack and Tony deal with the real threats.  At this point, Sheriff Moss and Freckles seem unable to deal with jaywalking, much less a terrorist threat.  On to the recap!

Plotline: C.  By the seventh season, we need something more than ‘corruption reaches to the top level of the administration’ and ‘we are prepared to use this device to kill thousands of people’.  Right now, I’m intrigued with HOW they’re going to use the CIB device more than anything else on the show. 

Thinnest/Most Obvious Character: The Secret Service agent who takes Ethan to Samantha’s apartment to stage the murder/suicide.  I’ve seen it a hundred times.  Ethan, you are a pathetic first husband.  How can you trust this guy?  He already turned you in to her chief-of-staff.  I’m just guessing here, but I think Samantha somehow gets away–either way, I don’t think we’ve seen the last of this part of the plot (unfortunately).

Character I’d Like To Know More: OK, I’ll say it.  Janis.  There.  Let me make my own peace with it.  Actually, let me use this space to complain about the work affair alluded to between Sean (how creepy is he?) and that blonde.  Are FBI agents this nuts?  You’ve got Freckles going off the reservation because of spending all of 15 minutes with Jack Bauer, disobeying orders like a three-year-old.  Her boss can’t reign her in, because they’re probably sleeping together, along with who-else-knows-who in the office.  How about some professionalism, people? 

Improbable Moment: Once Freckles was caught by the bad guys, she had to have known that her time was up.  Once in the van, as a trained FBI agent, she would have been talking up a storm, whatever she could say, to buy more time to save herself.  She would have used her relationship with Jack to try to get under his skin, anything to stall the inevitable.  She would have made stuff up about what Tanner told her.  But no, she is silent most of the time, complaining about how Jack is a traitor.  How does Jack get out of these situations all the time?  Talking.  Making stuff up.  Didn’t she watch the first six seasons?

Then, when Jack shoots her, his gun is about two feet from her ear.  He shoots, and we see blood on the side of her neck, but her lips are pursed.  My guess is that if someone discharged a weapon that I thought would end my life, I would have something to say about it.  Like a scream resembling that of a little girl.  And what of her hearing?  Wouldn’t that gunshot totally blow her ear out?  No scream?  When she survives being buried alive for five minutes, comes out and can hear, I’ll be slightly amused.

Thing I’m psyched for next week: Jack meeting the African bad guy face to face.  Didn’t they have a tete-a-tete in the jungle back in November?  Won’t he recognize Jack?  Won’t he off him right there? 

Thing I’m not psyched for next week: plotlines involving the adultery between creepy Sean and the office blonde, and Ethan’s imminent escape from Samantha’s apartment.