Why are Christian movies so bad?

A friend pointed out this post by Dallas Jenkins over on Big Hollywood.  Good stuff about the disconnect between Christians and Hollywood, the reasons for it, and what it hath wrought (Hollywood doesn’t know how to reach the Christian market and Christians have gone off to create their own films which — ahem — leave something to be desired):

The problem is that everyone knows good art should always put story and character above message. Message films are rarely exciting. So by their very nature, most Christian films aren’t going to be very good because they have to fall within certain message-based parameters. And because the Christian audience is so glad to get a “safe, redeeming, faith-based message,” even at the expense of great art, they don’t demand higher artistic standards. So aspiring filmmakers who are Christians have little need to perfect their craft, and Christian investors have little need to spend a lot of money because the message is going to be most important anyway. Add in the fact that the average heartland Christian couldn’t care less what a critic thinks–if anything, they assume they’ll feel the opposite of a movie critic–and you’ve got even less incentive for Christian filmmakers to be obsessed with quality.

And more:

The above points all lead to one predominant problem: young Christians aren’t encouraged or trained to become great artists. If a young Christian wants to become a filmmaker, they are often either discouraged to do so because Hollywood is so dangerous, or if they do find encouragement, they have a hard time getting proper training. There are two primary things that can foster someone becoming a better artist: one, seeing and being inspired by hundreds of great films, and two, getting a great artistic education. For better or worse, many parents won’t allow their kids to see some of the great films (because of questionable content), and many Christian kids are discouraged from attending the best film schools (also because of questionable content). This not only impacts potential filmmakers, but actors as well.

Therefore, when Hollywood starts to pursue more faith-based films and filmmakers (which they have), they find the cupboard bare.

And his concluding thought, which I wholeheartedly endorse:  “We can complain all we want about how Hollywood doesn’t reflect our values, but we lose that right if we’re not producing great projects and artists of our own.”

Go read the whole thing — I’m sure you’ll find yourself in agreement.  Then go read his bio — I suspect you’ll find yourself a bit surprised by his pedigree.

How do you say “regenerate” in German?

My next shipment from Amazon will contain a set of CDs containing a German language sacred work.  I can’t begin to describe how odd that is.

As the result of a college experience which involved roommates with varied interests in music, I discovered something about myself — I like just about any kind of music once I’ve learned the words.  Those who know me know I’m obsessed with Broadway music, which makes some sense in this regard — in many ways, Broadway songs are more about the words than any other type of music, since they are telling a story.

What this has also meant, however, is that I’ve never been horribly keen on classical music (especially instrumental).  And then there was Handel’s Messiah.  The first time I heard it was at National Cathedral here in D.C.  and I’m not sure if I ever had a harder time staying awake.  I mean, how many times can they repeat the same line over and over?  It was painful.

The regenerate Mrs., however, is a big fan, so this past Christmas season I got us tickets to a performance at the Kennedy Center.  This time I prepared by getting it on CD and listening to it over and over again ahead of time so I’d know it better.  Voila, it worked.  Which is a good thing, since the Mrs. has concluded that needs to be an annual family tradition.  (Incidentally, I was blown away by experiencing it in a secular setting — talk about regenerate art!)

So now, based on L’Engle’s recommendation, I’m going to give Bach’s St. Matthew Passion a try.  But I don’t know German, so learning the words will be a tad difficult.  Wish me luck.

Experiencing art: Cosmos in chaos

I’ve been pondering my prior question.  I do believe that visual media such as television and film spark creative involvement with their viewers.  In fact, I would argue that any art that is experienced results in creative involvement to some degree.  I would differentiate experiencing art from critiquing art, which in my mind is more of a logical analysis. I suspect, however, that for some “thinker” types like the regenerate Mrs., critique may be part of experiencing it, but I’m a “feeler,” so I do things my way.

Incidentally, I’ve always struggled with writing reviews — primarily of movies, but also of books.  I think in part this is because I want to experience it, which takes me out of the evaluative mode necessary for a review.

Have you heard the saying that a mind stretched by a new idea never returns to its original shape?  I would also contend that a mind stretched by a new experience (which engagement with art can be) never returns to its original shape.  This can be both for good or ill.

I can think of a number of films that I experienced in a way that re-shaped me in a positive way – Luther, Chariots of Fire, Finding Forrester.  I think the film Gattaca profoundly re-shaped me in ways I don’t really know – that movie has stuck in my craw for years.  And then I can think of movies like Primal Fear which ripped my heart out of my chest and left me bleeding on the floor – not exactly a good experience (my roommate at the time had a similar reaction).

I do believe there is value in art that portrays evil, preferably as evil, but doing so presents an interesting conundrum, since evil does harm and if we’re experiencing art…

(This also raises the Zempel household debate over whether profanity is a sin and, if so, is it a sin to use profanity on stage.  But I’m not going to go there.)

I’m continuing my journey through Walking on Water and am reminded of something L’Engle wrote:

“Leonard Bernstein tells me more than the dictionary when he says that for him music is cosmos in chaos.  That has the ring off truth in my ears and sparks my creative imagination.  And it is true not only of music; all art is cosmos, cosmos found within chaos.  At least all Christian art (by which I mean all true art, and I’ll go deeper into this later) is cosmos in chaos.  There’s some modern art, in all disciplines, which is not; some artists look at the world around them and see chaos, and instead of discovering cosmos, they reproduce chaos, on canvas, in music, in words.  As far as I can see, the reproduction of chaos is neither art, nor is it Christian.”

And this (which has echoes of what she describes in the “fictional” context of A Wrinkle in Time):

“Stories, no matter how simple, can be vehicles of truth; can be, in fact, icons.  It’s no coincidence that Jesus taught almost entirely by telling stories, simple stories dealing with the stuff of life familiar to the Jews of his day.  Stories are able to help us to become more whole, to become Named.  And Naming is one of the impulses behind all art; to give a name to the cosmos we see despite all the chaos.

“God asked Adam to name all the animals, which was asking Adam to help in the creation of their wholeness.  When we name each other, we are sharing in the joy and privilege of incarnation, and all great works of art are icons of Naming.

“When we look at a painting or hear a symphony or read a book and feel more Named, then, for us, that work is a work of Christian art.  But to look at a work of art and then to make a judgment as to whether or not it is art, and whether or not it is Christian, is presumptious.  It is something we cannot know in any conclusive way.  We can know only if it speaks within our own hearts and leads us to living more deeply with Christ in God.”

I think that’s what I mean by experiencing art.  Only stated much more eloquently.

Incidentally, L’Engle also has a book on icons — Penguins and Golden Calves — that I should probably read sometime.

The creative involvement of the audience

I’m re-reading L’Engle’s Walking on Water and once again discovering that pretty much every sentence is artistically stated and profound.  Today I found this especially intriguing:

“The writer does want to be published; the painter urgently hopes that someone will see the finished canvas (van Gogh was denied the satisfaction of having his work bought and appreciated during his lifetime; no wonder the pain was more than he could bear); the composer needs his music to be heard.  Art is communication, and if there is no communication it is as though the work had been stillborn.

“The reader, viewer, listener, usually grossly underestimates his importance.  If a reader cannot create a book along with the writer, the book will never come to life.  Creative involvement: that’s the basic difference between reading a book and watching TV.  In watching TV we are passive; sponges; we do nothing.  In reading we must become creators.  Once the child has learned to read alone and can pick up a book without illustrations, he must become a creator, imagining the setting of the story, visualizing the characters, seeing facial expressions, hearing the inflection of voices.  The author and the reader “know” each other; they meet on the bridge of words.”

I wholeheartedly agree with what she’s saying as far as reading is concerned.  But is that creative involvement limited to the author/reader relationship?  In theatre, I would definitely argue that the creative involvement of the audience is necessary, what with the willing suspension of disbelief, the degree to which actors feed off of the audience’s energy, etc .  But what about TV, where L’Engle declares that the viewer is a passive sponge, or film?  Does that rely on the creative involvement of the audience?

I know some of you who read this are filmmakers, videographers, and the like.  What say ye?  (this is meant to be an interactive website, so this is the point where you pipe up and publicly post profundity — preferably alliteratively — in the comments…).

The Voyage of Life

As you’ve probably gathered, the performing arts is my artistic medium of choice.  I’m not all that knowledgeable about the visual arts, but that’s not going to stop me from sharing my favorite paintings. 

The regenerate Mrs. introduced me to Thomas Cole and the Hudson River School, which I really like.  My favorite is Cole’s The Voyage of Life series, especially the third one, Manhood.

Here they are for your viewing pleasure:

Childhood

Youth.  Ah, idealism.  Those were the days….

Manhood. This is where I live.  As do most of the men I’ve counseled.

Old Age

Yeah, I know.  I’m a fan of some pretty blatantly allegorical art.  Sue me.

Books you should have read by now

I ran across this list of “What Books Every High School Student Should Have Read” today.  Interesting.  I must admit to being surprised at how many I have read.  Granted, I love to read, but I’ve never been much of one for the classics.  Give me a good Agatha Christie and I’m set (well, actually, not any more, since I’ve read all of them enough to pretty much have them memorized).

This was the result of asking a carefully selected pool of people, but it’s interesting nonetheless.  No book published in the last 30 years made the list, and Shakespeare’s plays (esp. Macbeth and Hamlet) was the only entry listed by a majority of the participants (71%).

So, once you get done with the Books that Build Character, get to work on these.  :o)  Oh, and don’t forget the regenerate Booklist and regenerate Musts in my righthand sidebar.  Time’s a-wasting.

Wesley vs. Wesley

My pastor has an interesting blog post up about the influence of John Wesley’s sermons versus Charles Wesley’s hymns, making the case that Charles’ influence may be more lasting.  Check it out here, along with the comment by the regenerate Mrs. who contends that John’s primary influence was through discipleship rather than through his sermons.  She means no disrespect to artists, of course. 

This also offers me a great excuse to re-post a quote attributed to Damon of Athens, among others:  “Give me the songs of a nation, and it matters not who writes its laws.”  That’s always been an intriguing statement, especially as one who lives and works in the policy realms of Washington, DC, but who has also run across politicos like Bill Wichterman and Mark Rodgers who argue that the culture is upstream from politics (Wichterman has even written an essay to that effect).

Given the fact that this blog is focused on the arts rather than politics, it’s pretty safe to assume I think they’re right.

Walking on Water and other Life Goals

Several years back (2002 , to be exact) I was challenged at a church retreat to come up with a list of 100 life goals.  I fell a bit short and only came up with 91, but since then I’ve accomplished several of them — I’ve gone hang-gliding; learned to fence (no, this doesn’t have to do with stolen goods); acted, sung, and danced in a musical (at the same church retreat one year later I was awaiting a callback which led to my first performance, in Kiss Me, Kate); sung and danced professionally (completed when I was paid to perform in dinner theatre); taken a seminary class (completed in spades now that I’m halfway through a seminary degree itself); and visited Scotland and Ireland, which sadly constitute only two-thirds of a single goal (which also includes Wales).

There are a number of goals that I’m making headway towards, but will take quite a while to achieve — my reading goals.  I’m aiming to read all of the books (or other literary works) by Elie Wiesel, George MacDonald, C.S. Lewis, Dorothy Sayers, Madeleine L’Engle, Chaim Potok, and William Shakespeare, as well as all the books listed in Books that Build Character.  (And right now I’m wondering why J.R.R. Tolkien and G.K. Chesterton aren’t on that list, but anyway…)  I don’t have time right now to do all these folks justice, but some random thoughts on a couple:

MacDonald’s faerie worlds and other books had tremendous influence on anybody who’s anybody (Lewis, Tolkien, etc.).  I can’t remember much off-hand about Sayer’s The Mind of the Maker (as a matter of fact, I’m not even sure I’ve read it, although I do own it), but it has to do with creativity and art.  Potok’s My Name is Asher Lev is my favorite book — the fictional tale of an Orthodox Jewish kid with incredible artistic gifts in a community that’s not too keen on art.  Transformational in my life when I read it as a budding writer (I still haven’t blossomed, so maybe it wasn’t as transformational as I thought).  And if you read Books that Build Character you’ll get excited about your favorite childhood books all over again — this is written by folks who value good stories and would likely include the Harry Potter books if it hadn’t been written before they came out.

This year, I’ve been focused on reading Madeleine L’Engle, who may very well be my favorite author (can someone be your favorite author if they didn’t write your favorite book?).  I’m already well-acquainted with A Wrinkle in Time and the associated books, but now I’m familiarizing myself with the Austin Family chronicles.

One of her books I’ve been dipping back into, though, is the amazing Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art (you thought actually walking on water was one of my life goals, didn’t you?).  This is a must-read for all Christian artists.  Some excerpts to whet your appetite:

“Christian art? Art is art, painting is painting; music is music; a story is a story.  If it’s bad art, it’s bad religion, no matter how pious the subject.  If it’s good art — and there the questions start coming, questions which it would be simpler to evade.”

More:

“Obedience is an unpopular word nowadays, but the artist must be obedient to the work, whether it be a symphony, a painting, or a story for a small child.  I believe that each work of art, whether it is a work of great genius or something very small, comes to the artist and says, “Here I am. Enflesh me.  Give birth to me.”  And the artist either says, “My soul doth magnify the Lord,” and willingly becomes the bearer of the work, or refuses; but the obedient response is not necessarily a conscious one, and not everyone has the humble, courageous obedience of Mary.”

And one more:

“When the artist is truly the servant of the work, the work is better than the artist; Shakespeare knew how to listen to his work, and so he often wrote better than he could write; Bach composed more deeply, more truly than he knew; Rembrandt’s brush put more of the human spirit on canvas than Rembrandt could comprehend.

When the work takes over, then the artist is enabled to get out of the way, not to interfere.  When the work takes over, then the artist listens.

But before he can listen, paradoxically, he must work.  Getting out of the way and listening is not something that comes easily, either in art or in prayer.”

Okay, and that’s all from the first chapter.  Trust me, you need to read this book.

Hope’s Got Me

Last night I had the pleasure of attending the CD release show for Steph Modder’s new Hope’s Got Me album.  It was an awesome concert and it’s an awesome CD (I just spent all day listening to it while at work).  I was already familiar with the title track, which you can download from her site for free and which my church used to great effect in our Baptism by the Bay video last summer (Steph is my church’s worship coordinator).  You can also listen to some of her other songs on her site, including the fantastic songs “Come Away” and “The River,” and it looks like you can hear “Stay, Oh Stay” and my new favorite, “Perfect,” on her MySpace site.  I believe her songs will soon be available on ITunes, so I highly recommend signing up on her email list so you’ll find out when they’ve been released.

Jeremy Johnson, who opened for Steph, was also excellent.  Check out his music here — “Seeds and Seasons” is one of my favorites.

Can actors be regenerate artists?

This is a question I’ve wrestled with, especially since my area of artistic interest is that of the performing arts: Are you a regenerate artist if you perform the works (plays, musicals, etc.) of others?

What does it mean to be a regenerate artist?  For those who have read Bob Briner’s Roaring Lambs, you may have noticed that it tended to be all about writing.  He believes Christians should be involved in every culture-shaping profession, but seemed to suggest (or maybe he stated it outright, I don’t remember) that if you want to shape the culture, you have to write the script.

I definitely think there are two main reasons Christians can be called to the arts – to create culture shaping art (see Act One) and to personally impact the lives of other people in the arts (see Hollywood Prayer Network — okay, maybe not the best example, but you get the idea).

Granted, I think every Christian involved in the arts should aim to do both (and they feed off each other – you won’t gain others’ respect if your art is crappy and if your art is excellent you will impact others whether you want to or not).  But I think there is a distinct difference between the two.  I think the creation of culture-shaping art is directly regenerate, while regenerating the people who are in the arts is a somewhat more indirect way of being a regenerate.  So I guess it’s both/and.

But, I would still ask the question of whether performing others’ works is a regenerate activity.  To the degree that one is so talented one can control which works are performed, I would say yes.  But simply signing up to play a citizen of Padua in a local performance of Kiss Me Kate, probably not so much.

I’ve drifted toward producing (and am tempted toward directing) because that gives me the ability to determine which show is performed (a potentially regenerate activity), as well as to shape a show to emphasize a redemptive message.  But even that can have its limits.

My sole producing credits have been of two iterations of a musical revue of my own creation – God on Broadway.  In 2007, I pulled together 11 songs from Broadway shows that I felt dealt with spiritual themes and recruited some talented folks to sing them.  I paired each song with a Bible verse that I felt communicated the same message or interacted with it in a very interesting way.  For 2008, I took it a step further, utilizing more songs and throwing in several monologues, as well.  In that iteration, rather than pairing songs with Bible verses, I instead ordered the songs to create somewhat of a spiritual journey story arc and explained that framework in the program.

That all sounds very regenerate, right?  Perhaps.  But in the second iteration I found myself increasingly frustrated as I tried to shoehorn songs into the themes I wanted them to be, while at the same time wanting to respect their original context.  And occasionally I’d find myself scouring my Broadway CDs trying to find a song that fit the underdeveloped theme I was trying to flesh out, bemoaning songwriters who threw in a single phrase that made a song unusable for my purposes.

That’s when I came face to face with the limitations of using the works of other people.  And that’s when I really, really wished I was a songwriter and could just come up with songs of my own.

So, back to the original question:  Are actors regenerate artists?  Or more broadly, are those who perform the works of others (songs, shows, whatever) regenerate if they are not the one selecting the work?

What say ye?