Nora's Will

--Crew--
Mariana Chenillo...Director

--Cast--
Fernando Luján as Jose
Enrique Arreola as Moises
Ari Brickman as Ruben
Juan Carlos Colombo as Dr. Nurko

--Review--

Jose sits alone in front of his computer playing solitaire in his carefully decorated apartment. His slicked-back hair matches his trimmed beard, both completely white. His dull expression gives nothing away about his character, and yet the stillness in his apartment declares much about his life without Nora.

Nora's Will, director and writer Mariana Chenillo's first full-length feature effort, is a story about loving and learning, and the void left by Nora (Silvia Mariscal), a woman who took her own life just days before Passover. For 20 years she had been married to Jose (Fernando Luján) and raised a child with him. The two eventually divorced, but Jose remained close to her, moving across the street so that he would always be involved in his son's life and possibly in Nora's.

Chenillo creates scenes featuring wide emotional ranges thanks to her preference for long takes. There's something powerful about the unedited and almost documentary-like experience she creates in refusing to cut away too quickly. Her camera lingers to help the audience experience every high and every low. We get to see the slight quiver of a lip just before words are spoken and spy miniscule eye movements just before they completely lower and close the mysteries behind them.

The narrative is succinct; the entire picture takes place in the span of five days after the discovery of Nora's suicide. Friends are made among various family members arriving for her funeral along with housekeepers and rabbis.

Nora's Will isn't about a physical document concerning the distribution of her possessions; rather, the film deals with a woman's lingering presence in the lives of those she left behind. A Spanish-language film, the original title is Cinco Días sin Nora, translating to Five Days Without Nora. For American distribution, the title emphasizes Nora's desires and motives in the wake of her death. The original title captures the setting for the film; the revised title captures the themes contained within it.

Amid so much meditation on death, Nora's Will includes moments of lighthearted humor. (No, that isn't Nora's flashlight—it's her vibrator.) Also inside Nora's bedroom, Jose discovers a photograph of a young couple underneath her bed. A bikini-clad Nora is earnestly smiling in the photo, yet Jose finds himself devastated that he isn't the man beside her in the image. He ponders if Nora had ever loved him completely and if he had truly meant something to her. This leaves the invulnerable Jose feeling exposed, haunted and jealous.

The script wonders how well two lovers can know each other and what dormant secrets are exposed in death.

This is a film about memory and learning, about experiencing an odd moment from the past in a new light. Nora's Will serves to remind us that reflection and time away are the best judges of how we feel versus what we believe we are feeling.

The final scene features a table filled with the loving people from Nora's life. All of them are conversant, joyous and sharing a traditional Jewish meal together. Death shouldn't be about splintering people from each other, the film seems to counsel, but instead about bringing everyone closer.

Books: Sex, Sin and Zen

No one picks up a book on Buddhism expecting something entertaining and possibly relevant to their life without first suffering from some serious brain damage. But look, Brad Warner has done the seemingly impossible by delivering “Sex, Sin and Zen” to delight readers everywhere. 

“Sex, Sin and Zen” marks Warner's fourth book delivering the same style of writing found in his previous work. Full of wit, thought and charisma, the book looks at sexuality from a Buddhist perspective. Warner answers a variety of life pressing concerns such as “Can a Buddhist monk jack off?” “Is orgasm the highest form of meditation?” The questions Warner raises on sexuality are the same ones everyone is discussing today, he's just doing from a Buddhist perspective.

Warner hails from the Sōtō school of Zen Buddhism and is an ordained Sōtō  Zen priest having trained under the tutelage of 81-year old Zen Buddhist monk Gudo Wafu Nishijima. 

Warner's main accomplishment is taking abstract Buddhist musings and presenting them for a modern audience. In his writing he distills the lessons of Buddhism by using examples from his own life and at times uses Buddhist koans to help illustrate his own ideas on sexuality. He isn't writing “Sex, Sin and Zen” like a 5th century scroll, he's writing it as a man who wrote for Suicide Girls and made monster movies. He brings Buddhism down to the real world which created it.

Warner breaks the ice on his discussion of prostitution by referring to a 15th century monk who called himself Crazy Cloud. Mr. Cloud wrote a rather famous poem titled “Sipping the Sexual Fluids of a Beautiful Woman.” Warner understands that Buddhists are humans too and Buddhism itself isn't a perfect value system. Warner isn't concerned about presenting Buddhism as a perfect philosophy of life. By referring to Crazy Cloud, Warner not only creates a highly humorous moment in his book, he also creates an understanding that although Cloud's action aren't a Buddhist ideal, Cloud wasn't entirely condemned for his actions. This difference between condemnation and commendation is at the heart of his analysis. 

Buddhism has no concept of sin within the practice. There isn't anything in Buddhism stating that a particular sex act is immoral or sin-like. Imagine, a value system that doesn't apply or foster a system of guilt on human sexuality and then attempt to judge a particular sex act – it simply wouldn't be possible. Warner presents Buddhism as a philosophy in search of a medium between two extremes.

Warner uses Japanese culture as an example of a society that views sexuality in a different light than our American society. Warner hypotheses a heavy Buddhist influence that didn't stigmatize sexuality helped shaped a very open expression of sexuality in Japan. This might just explain the strange Japanese anime porn genre of Hentai one sometimes seen on the interwebs.

At first it's difficult to come to terms with Warner's work, but as the reader continues page after page, it becomes easier to understand Warner's insight into sexuality. He isn't advocating a complete shift in how our culture values sexuality, but rather, he is more concerned that society approaches sexuality from a much more balanced perspective.

Warner argues the American view of sexuality is constructed based on Puritan values, these values have shaped our understanding of our own sexuality. Warner reshapes our perspective on human sexuality by using Buddhism as an opposing viewpoint against our current values. In reading his book, we see differently because we are shown differently.

Every chapter covers a different sex related topic from BDSM, to masturbation, to pornography to just plain dating. Warner mixes story telling with analysis with solid citations of classic Buddhist text. He includes an interview with American porn actress Nina Hartley, who happens to be a Buddhist and took Buddhist marriage vows the day of her wedding.

Warner isn't concerned about presenting Buddhism as a philosophy strictly for intellectuals or hippies, he's concerned about revealing Buddhism without ceremony and bullshit.

“Sex, Sin and Zen” is a really strange, wacky piece of fantastic writing that no human being should live without. Warner's book might be the most relevant book on Buddhist views of sexuality ever. It's a fun read, easy to get into and - it's about sex. Buy it for the title and keep it for the writing.

Note: An alternative version of this review is featured in the Sonoma State STAR Fall 2010 Issue #8.

Howl Review

--Crew--
Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman as Director/Scriptwriter

--Cast--
James Franco as Allen Ginsberg
Jon Hamm as Jake Erlich

--Review--

In 1956, City Lights Booksellers & Publishers co-founder Lawerence Ferlinghetti published Allen Ginsberg's “Howl and other poems,” nearly half a century later the film “Howl” arrives to depict the life of the poet and the landmark poem's infamy. Traditionally documentary filmmakers, Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman find themselves in both the director's chair and the script writer's for this fictional account of the real life poet.

With “Howl” the filmmakers have created a espresso blend of documentary movie making with an amazing cast featuring James Franco, Jon Hamm, David Strathairn and Jeff Daniels.

The film is divided into two distinct settings. There's Ginsberg's life in early and late 1950's and the obscenity trial Lawerence Ferlinghetti was involved in because of the publication of Ginsberg poetry. What the audience gets to see of Ginsberg life is regulated to in-character narratives by James Franco. Ginsberg recounts his experiences like he was being interviewed and indeed, a one point in the film an off screen interviewer presses Ginsberg for more information. Virtually all the screen time with Franco as Ginsberg is with the character's reflection of past events. He's talking to the audience members about himself in the way a documentary film would present an interview of a person.

As Allen Ginsberg, actor James Franco adopts a cadence unlike his own, elongating particular words, then condensing them, afterwards speeding up his delivery at the mercy of his vision of Ginsberg. Franco plays the poet with a certain shyness, almost near romanticism of what the perceived genius may or may not have been like. Yet, there isn't any range in Franco's feelings, much of what he does with his performance is with dialogue and brightly colored flannel shirts. Underneath the rim of 1950's eye wear, a frustrated James Franco must be seething at the impossibility of duplicating Ginsberg with the limited vision of the script. This Ginsberg doesn't do anything but talk, this Ginsberg isn't experiencing life.

Franco's readings of “Howl” are accompanied by animated segments which are intended provide the poem's meaning. Filmmakers Epstein and Friedman present a psychedelic vision of alien-like humans within Ginsberg's poem, forcing the audience towards a passive interpretation of Ginsberg's work, thus, allowing the filmmakers complete control over the poem's meanings. The value of poetry is attaching individual interpretation, losing that invaluable dialogue with the poem renders Ginsberg's “Howl” a manufactured disappointment. Although beautiful in execution, the animated segments feel unevenly alien, as it should, “Howl” isn't about aliens.

The film's retelling of the real life 1957 obscenity trail involving “Howl” publisher Lawrence Ferlinghetti is much more satisfying than an average court room drama. The Ferlinghetti character has no lines in the movie whatsoever, leaving his defense attorney Jake Ehrlich (Jon Hamm) the sole proponent for the “Howl” poem. Hamm plays Ehrlich so smoothly, the audience comes inches away from purchasing a pack of Lucky Strikes.

The performance is intense, Hamm interrogates his witnesses, pushes them with great believability. These courtroom scenes live by Hamm's performance alone. Whereas Franco is restricted to mere recitals of Ginsberg's thoughts, Hamm has complete control of his character's actions. The throughly authentic discussion of the poem within the courtroom setting should remind viewers “Howl” is not only a significant literary poem but it's also the subject of a landmark First Amendment case.

Epstein and Friedman took a marvelous chance in creating a film based on the life of Allen Ginsberg. Though the film is enjoyable to watch the execution is thoroughly uneven, “Howl” is difficult to recommend. Not every audience member can sit through what amounts to be an experimental film depicting the life of Allen Ginsberg. A standard documentary on his life would do far better in capturing the poet's life. Casting James Franco as Ginsberg isn't necessary when the script doesn't feature emotionally gripping scenes for a strong actor to portray. Franco has nothing to do here. It's a story without an emotional drive. The film makes clear the greatness of Ginsberg poem, but the movie doesn't answer “Who was this man?”

In the end, the “Howl” film lacks the intensity, humanity and creativity of the poem that inspired it. Epstein and Friedman appear to be so out of touch with the reality of Ginsberg's “Howl” that they've disfigured the poem and the artist into mere caricatures. And yet, no other piece of media has been so informative about Allen Ginsberg in such an encapsulating fashion. The film serves as biography, literary criticism and memorial to Ginsberg and his work.

The saddest part of “Howl” is that it stands as one of the few pieces of media to immortalize Ginsberg – and that my friends is letting one of the best minds of an entire generation disappear without a good fight.