The Edukators

German-language, English subtitles

What happens when three young soldiers of the class war accidentally take a prisoner?  Jan, Peter, and Jule are working-class twenty somethings, each passionate about fighting corruption, injustice, and the values of consumerism, but with different means. Whereas Jule's placard-waving and protesting in the streets stays within bounds of acceptability, Peter and Jan go further.   Breaking into the homes of the rich, they rearrange their furniture  and leave the ominous message: Die Fettenjahre sind Vorbei.  The days of plenty are over.  Their actions are illegal, but do no harm other than rattling the cages of the powerful.   When Jule sees her peaceful sign-holding friends beaten in the streets, loses her job, and is evicted in quick succession, she's invited by Jan (Peter Bruhl) to join him on a nightly raid. She's thrilled, but it results in their being surprised by the too-soon return of one of their targets. With no time to think, they act --  and kidnap him, fleeing into the mountains.  There the revolutionaries and the fatcat live with one another as the kids grapple with what they should do next -- and with their consciences, for now they've gone far beyond their expectations. What does it mean to have a revolution?

As the four live together, they are forced by the virtue of interaction to see him less as a Class Enemy and more like a man -- one dangerous to their freedom, if he escapes, and one whose values they despise, but a man all the same. And for all their rage against the concentration and abuse of power, and for all of their petty acts of resistance, they are not vicious people. To hold him hostage and use media coverage to bring attention to their grievances is tempted, especially if they can get his wife to actually produce ransom money...but are they willing to pay that price? Their hold on the moral high ground is already tenuous, and they become even more uncertain as they talk with their foe, who reveals -- astonishingly -- that he, too, was once a class warrior. Their grievances are not new: another generation held them. That generation, the youth culture of the 1960s, once held every convention of society in contempt and sought to radically change it...but things change, and so do people. Or do they?  The ardent beliefs of his captors stir something within the captive (whose name is Hartenburg),  as he remembers his own youthful yearning for a better world, and wonders where he lost it.

I initially purchased this movie to both keep my ear for German tuned and to enjoy the passion and action of three rebels whose beliefs I have much sympathy for, and enjoy rewatching it ever so often just to witness the cross-generation conversation.  In this age of overwhelming corporate power, the abhorrent triumph of consumerism and profiteering over the human soul and anything graceful, a movie like this is satisfying -- not only in portraying people putting resistance into action, but not losing sight of the fact that even 'enemies' are not as different from us. We are all vulnerable.

You may recognize the lead actor, Daniel Brühl playing Peter, from Joyeux Noel and Goodbye, Lenin!

Groundhog Day and Existentialism

Back in 2006,  I checked out Groundhog Day from the local Blockbuster and enjoyed it so much I decided to buy it from the store. I've since watched it a half-dozen times and never fail to be amused and touched. It's a fantasy comedy of sorts, in which an egotistic, crotchety middle-aged weatherman (Phil Conners, played by Bill Murray) is forced to drive to Punxustawney, Pennyslyvania with his annoyingly perky boss and their cameraman to do their news station's annual Groundhog Day segment.  Conners is a generally unpleasant fellow whose primary occupations are complaining and ridiculing others. After spending the night in Punxustawney, the crew do their segment, but are trapped in town by a blizzard. The next morning, Phil wakes up to find it's Groundhog Day -- again.  The same events which transpired the day before occur here:  Phil hears the same jokes, the same banal comments, crosses through the same traffic, and is stranded by the same blizzard. Only when his behavior forces alterations do they occur.

Phil is stuck in Groundhog Day -- again and again. He has no idea what is causing this time loop, and his elation at being able to get away with anything (in a world of no consequences) quickly turns to despair when he realizes nothing he does or says will ever matter.  No money stolen or friendships earned will endure. He tries to kill himself, only to wake up again and again at 6:00 a.m,  Groundhog Day.  His greatest disappointment, though, is his inability to win the affections of his boss, Rita. Though seemingly annoyed by her relentless cheerfulness, Phil is attracted to her and genuinely wants to be seen as something other than who he is: a jerk. He tries to become the kind of man she could love, but finds in the process that virtue and self-improvement are their own rewards. He comes to see the endless winter of Groundhog Day as a kind of gift, and uses it to learn to play the piano, to speak French, to create art. He makes the most of every moment and devotes himself to the people of Punxustawney, delighting in ordinary little kindnesses. In the process, he learns how to love something other than himself, and finally wakes up on February 3rd.

Groundhog Day is a genuinely funny movie, but I respond so favorably to because it has a philosophical point -- particularly to naturalistic sorts like humanists. While religions tend to make people participants in great psycho-dramas in which their actions play parts in a vast struggle between good and evil,  to the naturalistic mind our actions have no real consequences in the long term. Hitler and Gandhi go to the same end, and oblivion will claim us all one day. Humanity may survive to expand throughout the galaxy, but eventually our clock will be punched for the last time. Like Phil, we are in an ultimately meaningless situation, but there is no reason to be miserable about it. We are alive, whereas billions of others are not. We can breathe in sweet oxygen, stare at the stars in wonder, enjoy the many pleasures of life. Reality may be Puxustawney, P.A., and not the glitzy dramatic metropolis we think we'd prefer,  but there's plenty to enjoy. We can improve ourselves, find meaning in art and science, glory in little accomplishments, and find solace and joy in the company of friends and loved ones.

I know this from personal experience, for I was once a Pentecostal who believed in a great drama. That drama still excites Christians, Muslims, and Jews around the world, but as I aged that drama depressed and angered me. I felt damned, and in my darkest hours decided to spite "God" and his twisted universe. I declared that I was going to enjoy life and do something with mine to help others. I took possession of my life and infused it with meaning and purpose of my own making. I pushed myself to be sociable, and made friends. I determined what I wanted a meaningful occupation, and left the factory for the university.  I matured as a human being, and my self-empowerment has lasted for five years so far. When I read my old journals from that pre-humanist period -- with titles like "Jetsam's Course" -- I cannot identify with the person who I once was. I have found the joys of spring in the depths of winter, just as Phil did, and just as anyone can.  Life is too short not to enjoy .

Gandhi

No other movie in my DVD library effects me as powerfully as Sir Richard Attenborough's Gandhi. The first time I saw it, it so compelled me that I watched the movie several more times that very weekend. As many times as I have seen it, it never fails to provoke a response in me. I've read it described as "cinematic hagiography", a celebratory portrayal of an icon. The film covers Gandhi's life as a political activist, from his initial campaigns in South Africa to his role in India's independence movement spanning most of the 20th century.

Gandhi is well-known for his commitment to nonviolence, a commitment that inspired Dr. Martin Luther King's approach to the Civil Rights Movement in the United States. I do not believe I was aware of the moral strength and conviction such a commitment required until I saw Gandhi's depiction in this movie, nor did I appreciate it as I do now. When the film begins, Gandhi is but a young lawyer, one thrown off a train when he refused to leave his first-class ticket. These tickets are denied to all "colored" people, Indians included, and this confrontation begins Gandhi's career in activism. He begins campaigning on behalf of the Indians in South Africa, but from the start holds fast to nonviolence. The film's most poignant moment for me is a speech made to a conference of Indians soon thereafter, where he speaks publicly on the need for nonviolence.

In response to Gandhi's initial campaigns, the British government issues a law requiring that all Indians come forth to be fingerprinted. The law further states that British policemen can search Indian households with no given cause. Outraged at this infringement of human rights, several of the men in the audience swear to kill any British officials who dare insult them in this manner. Gandhi praises their courage, but adds that while he too is prepared to die in this just cause, "there is no cause for which [he] is prepare to kill".

He then proceeds to champion nonviolence, which is rooted not only in Hindi religious philosophy, but out a devotion to what I can only term radical love.

"I am asking you to fight. To fight against their anger, not to provoke it. We will not strike a blow -- but we will receive them. And through our pain, we will make them see their injustice. And it will hurt, as all fighting hurts. But we cannot lose. We cannot. They may torture my body, break my bones -- even kill me. Then they will have my dead body -- not my obedience."

Every time I view this scene, I am struck by the power of it. Gandhi is committed to nonviolence not just to prove his point without making the situation worse, but to force the oppressors to see what their ambition, pride, fear, and anger are lowering them to. He's sacrificing his own comfort -- taking pain -- to help the very people who administer that pain so that both of them may be freed from the oppression. This is a kind of nobility that defies words, and I cannot witness it without being changed by it.

Gandhi and his followers do not champion nonviolence simply out of religious piety or even because of their committment to radical love that goes beyond any system of ideas. It's also pragmatic. Not only does their commitment to nonviolent action rob the oppressors of legitimate excuses to grow ever more horrific, but it ensures a kind of purity among the demonstrators. It weeds out weaker characters, people easily given to bloodshed and close-minded partisanship.  The future first prime minister of India, Mr. Nehru, asks mid-film: if India becomes free through violence and war, what kind of leaders will that throw up?  The viewer need only glance at the history of nations forged by gun-toting revolutionaries, states like the Soviet Union and the First French Republic. Violence begets violence, and I think Gandhi realized that the chain of events must be undone before it leads to greater tragedies. In spite of his yearning for a free India, he and others committed to nonviolence are committed to gaining that independence the right way -- "proving worthy" of it. When the time is come, freedom 'will fall like a ripe apple'. Gandhi and those who support him demonstrate in action their principles, standing up against abuse and demonstrating on behalf of their rights against fierce resistance throughout the movie.

Gandhi's philosophy makes this movie for me, but it is far from Gandhi's only strength. The acting is well-done, and the music is stellar. I adore the depiction of Gandhi in this movie, particularly the character's humbleness, simplicity, and dedication. I don't know that the movie's characterization is quite fair to Mr. Jinnah, the future prime minister of Pakistan: throughout the film he's portrayed as hostile toward Gandhi, and ever self-absorbed. I am not familiar with Gandhi, Nehru, or Jinnah's total biographies, nor with the Indian independence moment as a whole, so I would not be surprised if there are historical inaccuracies done for the sake of making a more dramatic movie. Tension has its place.   A review I read in the course of looking for a specific quote from the movie claims that Attenborough took some liberties but aptly portrayed Gandhi's philosophy and dedication.

I believe this to be a particularly strong movie, remarkable for its depiction of human beings at their very best -- fighting injustice while not becoming party to it,  returning spite for compassion. Gandhi's story, as well as Martin Luther King's, proves that we can fight for our humanity and not lose it in the process.


Here's the trailer that lured me into watching the movie for the first time.

Amistad

Amistad is the story of a slave revolt involving some fifty people aboard the Spanish ship La Amistad, and their struggle to be seen as human beings after they are captured as they attempt to sail back to Africa.  After breaking loose of their chains, a young African named Sengbe and his fellow ex-slaves commandeer the vessel in hopes of returning home, but stumble upon the US Navy and are brought to Connecticut to stand trial for murder and piracy. Three separate parties -- the Kingdom of Spain, the Spanish crew, and the two American naval officers who claimed to  have salvaged the ship -- sue for ownership of the Amistad and its "cargo". The Amistad insurrectionists, unable to communicate with their American captors, are forced into a public cage while their fate is decided in the property courts.

A minor act of arbitration is brought to national prominence, however, when abolitionists seize the opportunity to attack the institution of slavery. Since US law decrees that only people born into the instution of slavery on a plantation can be considered slaves, the Amistad captives may go free if it is proven that they were captured in Africa, and not born into slavery. An ocean thus lies between their being defined as "men" or "slaves".

Southern politicans, dependent on the slave system, realize the acquittal of the prisoners may become a moral boon to the abolitionist cause. They thus bring all their resources to bear, including President Martin van Buren, who fears he may not be reelected if the southerners are not pleased with the outcome of the trial.  Although the abolitionists are able to win in local and state legislatures despite the odds,  the pro-slavery forces continue to manipulate the system to their own benefit. The battle is eventually taken to the Supreme Court: staffed almost wholly by southern politicians, it seems likely that the captives will be sent to Spain to be executed as murderers, or worse still be reduced to a life of slavery.

The beleaugered defender of the alleged slaves seeks counsel from the ailing John Quincy Adams. Aided by a young translator who allows the captives and Sengbe to tell the story of how they were stolen from their homes and shipped across the ocean in miserable conditions,  the abolitionists and their supporters take on the highest court of the land and all of its prejudices. The essential theme of the movie is one of humanity -- are we human with rights only if the law acknowledges them, or are human rights more fundamental?  Part of the film's interest for me is that it argues the latter while pretending to argue the former. We have rights  as much as we are willing to declare them and fight for them.

The plot of this emotionally provactive courtroom drama contains both humor and tragedy, although more of the latter. Those sensitive to violence should be warned that the scenes depicting Sengbe and the others' treatment aboard the slave-ship is especially graphic. The acting was effective, as far as I noticed: Anthony Hopkins as John Quincy Adams and Djimon Hounsou as Sengbe are especially strong on the screen. I also enjoyed the movie's soundtrack, particularly the parts of it rooted in African sources.  The film is not without its faults, although only one scene is truly objectionable. In this, Sengbe and an associate are seen examining an illustrated version of the Judeo-Christian bible and taking hope in the idea that Jesus will be there for them just as he was for the Jews. I found this unlikely, patronizing, and repugnant -- especially so given that Jesus never said a word against slavery, nor did the founder of his religion, Paul. Since the scene is not referenced again, nor is anything built upon it, it seems like an overly pious and fraudulent imposition. Overall, though, the movie's story gripped me.

The trailer is below.



===========================
A few years ago I contemplated sharing movies and books that might be of interest to a humanistically-minded audience -- movies that said something about the human condition, particularly about our ability to live life well in spite of circumstances. I have not found many movies that do this, but my intention to make this blog more broadly themed around the humanities widens the range of movies I might share. This is the first.