Things that trouble me: Loving your enemies

Just saw this posted by a prominent African American attorney in Philadelphia:




And I get it. There's a history in this country of "Christians" using their religion to subdue black people. I'm reminded of this:

On display now at the Museum of the Bible in Washington, D.C., is a special exhibit centered on a rare Bible from the 1800s that was used by British missionaries to convert and educate slaves. 

What's notable about this Bible is not just its rarity, but its content, or rather the lack of content. It excludes any portion of text that might inspire rebellion or liberation. 

"About 90 percent of the Old Testament is missing [and] 50 percent of the New Testament is missing," Schmidt says. "Put in another way, there are 1,189 chapters in a standard protestant Bible. This Bible contains only 232."

A religion that contorts itself to maintain the mastery of its adherents is bad religion. It is propaganda parading around in the garments of faith. But I'm going to resist the temptation to say the people who do such things aren't "real Christians," because let's face it: Christianity is whatever its adherents actually do.

On the other hand: Loving your enemies is really fucking hard to do. Almost nobody is inclined to try, and very few make the attempt.

And I'm convinced that the proportion of people claiming to be Christian who really endeavor to love their enemies is exceedingly small.

I'm maybe not the person to lecture on this. My own faith is ... shaky. I can best be described as agnostic-with-one-foot-still-in-the-faith. But I believe Christianity's ideal is a challenge for adherents, not because of its sexual ethic, but because it requires us to love the most unlovable of people, in the most unlovable of situations.

That is an extraordinary demand. That so few of us follow it make the meme above seem pretty reasonable. But I hate that it is so.

How Republicans' impeachment defense undermines the Electoral College

Republicans defending Donald Trump from impeachment keep making a curious argument:

Of course, Donald Trump's opponent, Hillary Clinton, received nearly 66 million votes. That's ... more. But she lost the Electoral College, which places more emphasis on where voters cast their ballots than the number of votes a candidate receives, and Donald Trump won the presidency.

Ever since, Republicans have argued for the rightness of the Electoral College by arguing the founders had antimajoritarian designs on protecting the people's rights, and it's a lousy argument -- one I guarantee they wouldn't be making if they'd lost two elections in 20 years despite winning the popular vote (just as most Democrats would also be on the other side of the issue) -- but fine.

That's what makes the "63 million voters" argument against impeachment so interesting. It relies on a particular kind of democratic legitimacy that Donald Trump hasn't earned. If we're so concerned about overturning the will of 63 million voters, we surely ought to be concerned with overturning the will of 66 million voters -- which is what the Electoral College does. If you take the GOP argument seriously, Trump would have a stronger argument against impeachment if he'd won the popular vote. He didn't and he doesn't.

'The Band Wagon': MGM's Month of Musicals

The Criterion Channel on November 1 unveiled a collection nearly two dozen classic MGM musicals for streaming this month. One blogger's mission: To watch each and every one.

A number of musicals from the early 1950s are about the pre-war generation of entertainers finding their way in a new era. White Christmas is most explicit about this, with its "Choreography" dance number, as well as the overall story of two buddies who find a way to pay tribute to their washed-up former commanding officer. Singin' In the Rain, which tells the tall of the conversion from talkies to sound, is somewhat more oblique about it, but the themes and sense of disconnect and discovery are still there. The Band Wagon, about Fred Astaire being a washed-up movie star, then finding new vigor by taking over a failing "modern" show, is more of the same. But at least we get this expression of cinematic joy:

And this one:

That's why we watch this stuff.

'Broadway Melody of 1940': MGM's Month of Musicals

The Criterion Channel on November 1 unveiled a collection nearly two dozen classic MGM musicals for streaming this month. One blogger's mission: To watch each and every one.

Pure joy. In this series of posts, I've often become hung up on how musicals of yesteryear often fall short of modern standards of morality and ethics. No need to with this movie, which largely dispenses with story in favor of just being entertaining. Lots of early musicals nod back to the vaudeville days; Broadway Melody of 1940 pretty much is vaudeville. Otherwise, how are you going to get a scene like this?

Or this?

That's some crazy shit. There's still plenty of music going on. Cole Porter was in charge of the music and lyrics in this movie. I realize, coming to this Broadway Melody, that I know precious little of Eleanor Powell, and that's an oversight I now want to fix. She's amazing. Check this out.

This is why we love musicals.

'Seven Brides for Seven Brothers': MGM's Month of Musicals

The Criterion Channel on November 1 unveiled a collection nearly two dozen classic MGM musicals for streaming this month. One blogger's mission: To watch each and every one.

My son, during old movies, has gotten in the habit of pointing out problematic gender politics. He was busy during this one.

Let Wikipedia explain why:

The screenplay, by Albert Hackett, Frances Goodrich, and Dorothy Kingsley, is based on the short story "The Sobbin' Women", by Stephen Vincent Benét, which was based in turn on the Ancient Roman legend of The Rape of the Sabine Women.  

Wait. What?

The Rape of the Sabine Women was an incident in Roman mythology in which the men of Rome committed a mass abduction of young women from the other cities in the region. It has been a frequent subject of artists, particularly during the Renaissance and post-Renaissance eras.

The word "rape" is the conventional translation of the Latin word raptio used in the ancient accounts of the incident. Modern scholars tend to interpret the word as "abduction" or "kidnapping" as opposed to a sexual assault. Controversy remains, however, as to how the acts committed against the women should be judged.

It's not that difficult. But it is discomfiting to watch a movie where the last third is dominated by women being kidnapped from their homes -- and then, in the movie's climax, marrying the brothers because each claimed to be the victim of what we would unquestionably view as rape today.

It's played for laughs and joy in the movie.

I don't expect people of the 1950s to make movies from a 2019 moral view. But I can't help but watch a movie in 2019 from that point of view. And that makes Seven Brides a movie I can't really fully enjoy. What's more: I hate to be a killjoy. But I'm glad my son points this stuff out. He's thinking about this stuff already and I'm glad.

Which is too bad about this movie. Because it has Russ Tamblyn, at his most athletic and youthful, dancing in it. And that is, context aside, a joy to behold.

'The Pirate': MGM's Month of Musicals

The Criterion Channel on November 1 unveiled a collection nearly two dozen classic MGM musicals for streaming this month. One blogger's mission: To watch each and every one.

After the sour taste left by the ugly love story of "The Harvey Girls," "The Pirate" is a refresher indeed. Yes, Gene Kelly is a cad chasing Judy Garland, but the framing here is a Shakespearean-style farce, full of hidden identities, disguises, star-crossed romance and Cole Porter rhyme schemes. 

My family loves watching these old movies. But not in an uncomplicated way. We find that -- even after an MGM musical -- we have to pause and talk with our son about the racial attitudes depicted in those old movies. 

Which brings us to the Nicholas Brothers.

Gosh, I hope you know of the Nicholas Brothers. They only starred in one of the greatest dance routines ever put on film. Check this out:

I mean ... holy cow.

Anyway, they make a brief appearance in "The Pirate," along with Gene Kelly, for the movie's real show-stopping number, "Be A Clown," and ... I mean ... holy cow. (They show up about a minute into this clip.)

Amazing, right? And here's why we need to stop the movie and talk with our son:

The film's musical production final sequence, "Be a Clown", composed by Cole Porter, featured the acrobatic and dancing talents of the Nicholas Brothers, with Gene Kelly, who choreographed the dance number. Judy Garland joins Kelly's act and the film ends with the two of them singing a reprise of "Be a Clown." The dance sequence was the first time The Nicholas Brothers had danced onscreen with a Caucasian, while it was Kelly's insistence that they perform with him. The Nicholas Brothers were the ones punished. When released to the feature movie theater circuit distribution, this Nicholas Brothers sequence was deleted by MGM when screened in the Southern States, such as Memphis, because it featured black performers, the result of racial bigotry in the South. Only in the Northern States' movie theaters, were audiences allowed to view the entire end production presentation. Essentially blackballed, Fayard and Harold moved to Europe and did not return until the mid-sixties making a comeback appearance on The Hollywood Palace (1964) hosted by Roy Rogers and Trigger.

And that is why it is difficult to enjoy even the most innocuous of things.

Notable songs: "Be A Clown."

Does this movie contain one of those weird Gene Kelly dream sequences that his musicals always seemed to have during this era? Yes. 

Any other racist stuff going on? Gene Kelly in brownface.

See it? Yes. The stuff between the musical numbers is actually reasonably entertaining.

'The Harvey Girls': MGM's Month of Musicals

The Criterion Channel on November 1 unveiled a collection nearly two dozen classic MGM musicals for streaming this month. One blogger's mission: To watch each and every one.

The Harvey Girls is a reminder that you don't always -- or ever -- watch musicals for the story. Because this movie has one of the shittiest love stories ever. Judy Garland plays a young woman who heads west, under what turn out to be false pretenses, to get married, only to have her plans fall apart when she arrives in Sandrock, Arizona. She goes to work for the local Harvey House. John Hodiak plays the pencil-mustached pimp with a heart of gold -- he runs the brothel across the street from the Harvey House, but the love of a good woman helps him see the error of his ways.

Yeah, they get together at the end. No, Hodiak's redemption story doesn't earn him Garland's love. But having created these characters, in this era -- 1946 -- of movie musical, it has no choice but to end up with them together anyway.

Ugh.

But like I say, we don't watch musicals for the stories. We watch them for the music! And the dancing. So let's talk about Ray Mothereffing Bolger.

Like me, your main exposure to Bolger may be from him playing the Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz. In HG, Bolger's character has a lesser role -- but it's made of pure entertainment. It's no surprise to see the same guy who played the Scarecrow offer up the same style of loose-limbed dancing.

It's just a goddamned delight.

That's great. But he's also capable of great grace. (Start about four minutes in.)

The man is a wonder to behold.

Notable songs: "The Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe."

Best dance: See Bolger, above. 

Best early youthful performance by Hall of Fame-level star: Cyd Charisse.

See it? Nah. Check out the YouTube clips of the highlights. You'll be happier.