Cut Down By the Confederacy

By a stroke of dumb luck, our last stop before returning home from our vacation to North Carolina was Lexington, Virginia--the final resting place of both Robert E. Lee and Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson. Civil War buff that I am, I visited both graves and paid my respects to the fallen Confederate chieftains. Unfortunately, old Bobby Lee is entombed in a large brick chapel that is only open at certain times during the day. What is more, the neo-Rebs who care for his earthly remains forbid any unauthorized photography his sarcophagus. Such is life.

Jackson's grave is much more visitor friendly. It is the centerpiece of an old memorial cemetery named after the general. According to a small sign at its entrance, the cemetery remains open from "dawn to dusk." My dad and I paid our visit shortly after dawn...and, sure enough, it was open.

Stonewall's final resting place is as much a shrine to the South's glory days as it is a grave. Towering over the tombstones of Stonewall and various other Jacksons is a massive pedestal topped by a stalwart statue. At the base of the monument, modern admirers have left rebel flags as a tribute.

While I am, to a certain extent, an admirer of Stonewall Jackson, I could not help but think that the massive monument was more a nostalgic memorial to the so-called "Lost Cause" than to Jackson, himself. No monument great or small makes the man or his legacy. Stonewall's life--the good and bad of it--is the only monument that really matters in the long run.

Funny story, though: the spirit of Stonewall--or the ghosts of the Confederate dead lurking in this cemetery--must have sensed my cynicism. While stepping off of the Stonewall monument, I snagged my big toe on something and received a sizable wound. Another instance of a Southerner drawing Northern blood? Perhaps.

Free as Running Water...

Today, my three-year-old and I watched one of the all-time greatest animated films ever: Race For Your Life, Charlie Brown! I remember watching this classic as a child, and it warms my soul to report that age has only improved it. Who cannot love a loser like Charlie Brown? Who cannot identify with his struggle to fulfill his destiny as a great summer camp leader?

In celebration of this great film, I'd like to reprint the lyrics of the film's theme song. In my opinion, it is one of the great forgotten classics.

It's a new day
We all can agree
That the sun shine's
Brought to you absolutely free

Free as running water
Fresh as morning dew
No matter who's the leader
When the sun sets down
It's gone Charlie Brown
So race for your life

Take a chance cause there's no second dance
Till it's a new day

I'll tell you a secret
You're about to face a test
And you'll have to do your best
Don't forget, just remember
Just remember, don't forget

Your life is free as running water
Fresh as morning dew
No matter who's the winner
If you try, we're behind you
Charlie Brown

Race for your life, Charlie Brown
Race for your life, Charlie Brown
Race for your life, Charlie Brown
Race for your life, Charlie Brown

By the way, if you haven't seen this movie, you can check it out in its entirety on YouTube. The first part is at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1JmqaMEbpSQ

WALL-E and the Politics of the Heavy Hand

Art and politics have been going steady now for centuries, and their relationship will likely continue. Personally, I usually don't mind their coziness together; some of my favorite movies, novels, and songs have political undertones to them. But what irritates me is when political art abandons all attempts at subtlety (a feature I value highly in art) and becomes stultifyingly heavy-handed and (worse) preachy. Such art is the high school hallway make-out couple of its kind.

I've been thinking about the value of heavy-handed political art for about a month now. It began when I took my three-year-old daughter to WALL-E, Pixar's second self-indulgent adventure (the first being Ratatouille). I admit, the CG animation was great, the sound design was ingenious, and the robot love story was cute. But halfway through the film, the producers decided they had to start taking cheap (and ever trendy) shots at obesity and Bush Republicans (the phrase "stay the course" was used in regards to an inadequate national policy). To top it off, they turned the movie into another vehicle for the current celebrity cause, environmental preservation. The whole thing made me gag.

Don't get me wrong: I watched (and enjoyed) Al Gore's slide-show, and I'm all for saving the planet. I just bought a bike, for crying out loud! I even admire a nicely done political allegory. But I hate getting clubbed over the head time and time again--and WALL-E seems to take pleasure in wielding the club. Pixar needs to return to the subtlety of its previous works Monsters, Inc. and Cars, both of which carry environmentalist messages without self-indulgent melodrama and transparent political posturing.

The sad reality of the entertainment industry's infatuation with the environmental movement is that if going Green did not currently mean getting green (as in the greenback), then the environmentalist movement would be up a polluted creek without a paddle. Call me pessimistic, but I predict that Hollywood will soon find a new cause and Green art will go the way of all the other dead celebrity causes. We're not going to be the cause of this planet's destruction--Hollywood's fickle thirst for money will be.

In 1941, Preston Sturges filmed a comedy called Sullivan's Travels that was a brilliant "SHUT UP!" to those who criticized his films for not being political enough. In the film, he tells the story of a director who wants to make a politically important film, but keeps getting stuck making comedies. In the film, Sturges sends America an important message about poverty and compassion--but he also sends an important message to Hollywood: life is tough, and sometimes people just want to laugh. It a masterfully subtle work--and its one of my favorites. I'd recommend it along with I am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang and Mr. Deeds Goes to Town--two other powerfully political films from the same era that value subtlety over the club.

A heavy-handed message--even if the message is an important one--rarely stands the test of time. In twenty years, WALL-E will be the dinosaurs that Ferngully: The Last Rain Forest has become. It'll never become great classic. Fortunately, though, the entertainment industry is not interested in making classics with enduring environmentally-conscious messages. The only green they care about is the kind that doesn't grow on trees.