Monday, February 18, 2013

Warm Bodies Review

A good friend took me to see Warm Bodies tonight for my birthday. I had been wanting to see it since I saw the preview, but had trouble finding anyone who shared my intrigue enough to spend 8 bucks to watch something that sounded like it could potentially be more like the kind of movie you wait until it can be streamed on Netflix to watch. The basic plot is loosely based on Romeo and Juliet, only with a zombie Romeo. After killing Julie's boyfriend, proceeding to rescue and fall in love with her (followed eventually by her falling for him), they take on the masses with love breaching the live/undead gap.
 Despite how stupid the premise sounds, this movie was actually (as I hoped) Awesome. Yes, that's an Awesome with a capital A. And here's why:
1. It demonstrated correct principles of how social in-grouping out-grouping behavior works. At the end R makes a comment about killing all the "bonies" (supra-zombies) at the end being a bonding experience between the living and the infected "corpses". According to current social psychological research, a superordinate goal is one of the few things that can bring competing groups together because it creates functional interdependence. These goals introduced to the environment can't be achieved by one group alone, but if collectively are needed bring them together. Another example is how at the beginning when R knows that he doesn't want to be how he is ponders "Am I the only one?". The moment when he finds he is not alone, that others would like to find a way back to their old self too, it establishes credibility, and they use each-other to prevent themselves for settling for less. It starts a movement when others are with him. Even though they were zombies, this is very real-life.
2. I'm no film major or movie-making geek, but I can tell the difference when a movie is well-done and when one is poorly made. I thought the angles were artistic and provided refreshing perspective changes throughout the movie. The use of particular color and lighting was fitting. The acting was believable. I found myself experiencing the suspension of disbelief (where I forget I'm watching) more often than not. AND the soundtrack was amazing.
3. I loved the symbolic connection that spoke of love bringing the dead to life. Even though the film was physiologically inconsistent/confusing (how could they get heartbeats if everything but their brain had been eaten? and other such quesions), it was philosophically beautiful. It wasn't the point of the movie to explain how the apocalypical zombie virus started or even the exact function that their brains underwent to spark the cure. So if you're hung up on that, get over it. What was important to this story was connection. And connection, we find, is what give us life, what makes us alive. It was when the corpses interacted with the humans, were taught by them, touched by them, LOVED by them, it was this connection that proved to be a cure that spread like good infection and exhumed the world.
The film ends with R and Julie watching as the wall the humans built to keep the corpses out is blown to bits.

Love crumbles walls, yo!

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Part III

[it casts out fear]



Sometimes loving people means embracing conflict rather than running from it. As Donald Miller likes to say, “Every good story has conflict.”

Gary A. Haugen uses an illustration that I’d like to share here in his book Good News about Injustice:

“Courage is an odd gift because it’s one we rarely think we’ll want or need. It’s like trying to get my preschoolers to put on their coats when there is no hint of winter’s bitter cold inside our toasty home. Squirming and objecting, the doubt that it’s as cold as all that outside, and more to the point they’re not sure they even want to be going out.

Similarly, as a North American Christian I am not all that eager to accept the gift of courage that my God extends to me. I’m not sure I want to go to the places where I’ll need it—to the places where virtues become risky. Sometimes staying indoors feels risky enough.

But then Jesus gently lets me know that I’m not living with a domesticated God. His prodding sounds much like the appeal my wife and I give to our own children to get them out the door: ‘Mom and Dad are going outside. We’ll help you with your coats if you want to come with us.’ Likewise, I hear Jesus calling, ‘I’m going outside to a world that needs me. I’ll help you with the courage you’ll need if you want to be with me.’”

I am not courageous. I am the type who would rather avoid the need to develop courage by simply avoiding situations that would call for it. I don’t think God is going to allow me to stay indoors. I don’t think I want to, not if He isn’t there.



Some fears I face (and I imagine other people do to) of loving other people:

(a) I’m afraid of what they think of me (see part I).

(b) I’m afraid of our differences. It’s hard investing in some one knowing inevitably that you will misunderstand and be misunderstood. Loving people who are different than you (and everyone is, at least a little) means inevitable screw-ups and inevitable work to fix the screw ups.

(c) Getting too attached and getting hurt.


But C.S. Lewis makes a lovely quote for point C.

There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one,     not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.”


And now we have to ask ourselves the question, are we going to have safe, passive love for the people around us? Or are we willing to take risks?