Movie Review: Civil War (2024) d. Alex Garland

 

Western Forces flag from the film Civil War (2024) d. Alex Garland

Movie Review

Civil War (2024)

d. Alex Garland

   I haven't written about movies since I wrapped up my Criterion Collection phase, which lasted a couple years.  One of the things that I noticed, writing about movies on my blog, is that so many people have critical opinions about movies that is pointless to try to add something.  Contrast this to the considerable paucity of opinions about amazing authors like W.G. Sebald or Thomas Bernhard.  The other issue that I noticed writing about movies is that they are such a group production, starting with the planning of the shooting of the film, followed by the actual shooting of the film, followed by the post-shooting production of the film to the marketing and distribution, to write about a movie is not to write about an individual work of art but, largely speaking, a massively capitalized financial endeavor undertaken at the behest of a multi-national corporation. 

   Rare is the film that inspires me to state an opinion, but Civil War, directed by Alex Garland, is one of those films.  I am a huge fan of Garland which largely stems from me learning that he was the author of The Beach before he started working in film.  Starting in 2010 he directed a series of films that began to establish him as a significant creative voice- beyond the impact of the writing of The Beach and the film of the book, which he also directed and was released in 2010.  In 2014 Ex Machina was released. I didn't see it for years- I think it must have been on Netflix when I finally did, but there is no questioning that it is a really interesting movie. In 2018 he adapted Annihilation by Jeff VanderMeer, which didn't perform very well with audiences or critics, but I happen to think it an amazing movie, personally.  In 2020 there was season one of Devs, which I watched and enjoyed, again I thought Devs again demonstrated that Garland was working with a distinct, impressive, artistic vision.

   Civil War really delivers on this artistic promise in a way that I believe is not being fully appreciated by the discourse, which seems to be driven on either the message or non-message sent by centering the press in the narrative.  What the discussion over this artistic decision lacks is the literary context of the story of the film.  Garland has crafted a picaresque, or tour of horrors, that relates clearly to artistic antecedents extending to the Odyssey and older.  His choice of war photography/journalism as his vehicle is the only option available to him, or anyone else, to tell this story.

   Compare the story of a contemporary Civil War to the experience of Goya, who, between 1808 and 1814, toured Spain to document the Napoleonic Invasion in a series of 82 etchings.  They are currently on display at the Norton Simon Museum in Pasadena, apparently for the first time ever (?) and I had them in mind when I saw Civil War because I'd visited the museum the day before and seen the exhibition.   Goya, following the practice of the time, simply traveled around Spain as a gentleman and took sketches which he then turned into etchings.  The etchings are frank and intimate, the war photography of their time.  Back then, people can, and often did, set up picnics and viewing parties for battles on nearby hills- it was a practice that extended through the start of the Civil War in the United States, and it was a different mode of warfare.

   Garland, seeking to tell a contemporary story, needs contemporary tellers, people present to document the horror.  Each scene in Civil War is a different stop on the tour of horrors, meant to illustrate a different aspect of the overall message, which is that war is a horror.  There should be no issue regarding what Garland's hidden message is when it is right there in plain sight.  That message is enough, and it's a message that has been delivered more or less consistently, interspersed with the opposite opinion, that war is the highest glory of man, for thousands of years.

  I can understand why a lay viewer might not LIKE Civil War- there is plenty not to like for a viewer who is just out for a Sunday matinee at the local AMC.  My partner, for example, won't even see the film for her (justified and accurate) belief that the violence contained in the film is too much.  If you are a viewer looking for a really wide scope battle picture you are going to be disappointed by many of the slow and intimate scenes that largely revolve around dialogue.  If you have strong political beliefs of one kind or another you might take issue with what you might think are the hidden sympathies of the filmmaker.   These are all valid negative lay opinions about the film as a popcorn, matinee movie at the multiplex. 

  I can't understand why a critic would say Civil War is anything other than a great movie.  I believe every critical review I've surveyed fails to engage with the historical context of the artistic form- picaresque- that Garland is utilizing here.   Picaresque is not an art form with a moral imperative, it is from the 18th century and it is meant to simply usher the reader along through the literary equivalent of a series of pictorial engravings.  Each scene is Civil War is an actual "scene," the visual equivalent of a moving Goya etching from Los Desastres de la Guerra.  If you don't understand that connection from the past to the present, you don't understand the film. 

   

Call It Sleep (1934) by Henry Roth

 1,001 Novels: A Library of America

Call It Sleep (1934)

by Henry Roth

Lower East Side, New York

New York 51/105

Manhattan: 7/34

  Call It Sleep is a 1,001 Books to Read Before You Die/1,001 Novels: A Library of America cross-over title.  I read it back in 2014 (review below) and expressed concern that I hadn't heard about it before the 1,001 Books project.  There is nothing new under the sun!

Here is the review from 2014:

Published 10/30/14

Call It Sleep (1934)

by Henry Roth

  The 1934 publication date of Call It Sleep should come with an asterisk, because it wasn't until a mid 1960s revival that this modernist bildungsroman of the Jewish-American experience in the Bronx and Brooklyn was hailed as a classic.  Call It Sleep is also a famous 20th century one off- Roth didn't publish another novel for forty years. The main aspects of Call It Sleep to understand is that Roth was familiar with James Joyce and the tenets of literary modernism, in terms of utilizing stream of conscience narrative and the incorporation of non-standard English into his writing. For Roth, the other languages include Aramaic (the language of the Old Testament), Hebrew and Yiddish(Hebrew and German language spoken by many Jewish immigrants from Germany/Eastern Europe.)

  So, the narrative style (stream of consciousness) combines with multiple languages, all rendered phonetically in English, and it tells the important story of what it was like to grow up a Jewish-American immigrant in New York City in the early 20th century.  Perhaps Roth's biggest mistake was writing it so close to the time period depicted.  What read in the 1960s as a lost modernist classic may have read as a pale imitation of Joyce in 1934.  My sense is that Call It Sleep was probably favorably noticed upon publication but didn't permeate into the general population the way that the work of Hemingway and Fitzgerald did.

  I don't believe that Call It Sleep is widely read these days, certainly I'd never heard of it outside of the 1001 Books project, and I am a Jewish-American myself.  I would have expected my parents to have a copy, or for it to have been mentioned by a classmate in school in the context of books like The Basketball Diaries or Catcher in the Rye.  Henry Roth's status as a one hit wonder has also likely contributed to his general neglect as an Author.  I think some Authors obtain classic status with later works and then people go back and look at earlier books and elevate them, but if an Artist only has one major work, that project is impossible and there is no interplay between works.  This interplay between various works of a single Artist is something that can contribute to the maintenance of a larger audience years after publication.

Harlem - 1,001 Books: A Library of America

 Harlem - 1,001 Novels: 

A Library of America

1.  The Street (1946) - Ann Petry

2.   Invisible Man (1955) - Ralph Ellison

3.  Passing (1929) - Nella Larsen

4.  Home to Harlem (1928) - Claude McKay

5.  If Beale Street Could Talk (1974) - James Baldwin

6.  Big Girl (2022) by Mecca Jamilah Sullivan

7.  Ruby (1976) by Rosa Guy

8.  Stories From the Tenants Downstairs (2022) - Sidik Fofana

9.  Bodega Dreams (2000) - Ernesto Quinonez

10.  The Ballad of Black Tom (2016) by Victor LaValle

11.  Daddy Was A Number Runner (1970) - Louise Merriweather

12.  Hoops (1981) - Walter Dean Myers

13.  Cool World (1959) - Warren Miller

14.  A Hero Ain't Nothin But A Sandwich (1973) - Alice Childress

  Harlem was my favorite sub-chapter thus far in the 1,001 Novels: A Library of America list.  The top eight titles on that list of 14 are all really worth reading for any student of American literature.  This is also the first substantial body of non-white authors in all the states so far- that's all of New England and now New York.  I wouldn't insert my number one pick from the Bronx (Charming Billy by Alice McDermott) into a combined list above the five slot here.  There wasn't any point in this section where I felt like the 1,001 Novels: A Library of America was a waste of time, as has been the case at some points when I've been slogging through a second or third tier work of detective fiction set in upstate New York or rural New England.   Editor Susan Straight also included her first work of genre-science fiction/fantasy after snubbing H.P. Lovecraft in New England.  Her pick, The Ballad of Black Tom, was curious  but an interesting departure from the rest of the list.

   There was a greater sense of history in Harlem than the Bronx- writers of the Harlem Renaissance helped in that department, but the more recent books were interesting as well. All in all the strongest sub chapter yet. 

The Bronx: 1,001 Novels: A Library of America

 The Bronx - 1,001 Novels:

A Library of America

1. Charming Billy (1998) by Alice McDermott

2. How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accent (1991) - Julia Alvarez

3.  Don't Erase Me (1997) by Carolyn Ferrell

4. The Bait (1968) - Dorothy Uhnak

5.  Spidertown (1996) - Abraham Rodriguez Jr.

6. The Catfish Man: A Conjured Life (1980) by Jerome Charyn

7.  The Blackboard Jungle (1954) by Evan Hunter

   Socioeconomic distress is the name of the game in the seven novels in The Bronx from 1,001 Novels: A Library of America.  There is also a specific focus on the years between 1950 and 1990- that basically handles all seven titles.  I was glad to finally read an Alice McDermott book- never would have without the 1,001 Novels: A Library of America project to push me.  I also enjoyed reading my first Julia Alvarez, I now understand her significance as an author within the world of American Lit.  Lowlights were those bottom three books- the Audiobook of The Blackboard Jungle was a huge mistake- 13 scarring hours that I'll never retrieve. 

  I'm not entirely surprised at the absence of any books set in the 19th century- like- at all- but I suppose The Bronx wasn't really a thing until the 20th century?   I don't know and none of these books made me care. 

Passing (1929) by Nella Larsen

 1,001 Novels: A Library of America

Passing (1929)

by Nella Larsen

Harlem,  New York City

New York: 50/105

Harlem:  14/14

     OK! Done with the Harlem chapter of 1,001 Novels: A Library of America and done with the Bronx/Harlem subgrouping from New York, i.e. the black and brown part of New York City.  Loved the Harlem books, but the Bronx titles were a bummer.  Passing is last up because I thought I had already read this book but couldn't find any record of it.  I ended up checking out the Netflix movie associated Audiobook from the library because it's only four hours long and listened to it during a run.  Passing really seems like more of a novella but it's gone firmly canon- it was on the Atlantic Great American Novel list from last month.

     After listening to the Audiobook I'm still not sure whether I've read it before or not- parts seemed familiar, but I did not remember the ending, and I feel like I would have remembered the ending if I actually had read the book.  The craziest part of this book is that it's about these two friends, both light skinned African American women from Chicago.  One "Passes" and marries a white man, who is also a virulent anti-black racist, the other marries a black Doctor.  They both end up in New York, but the book begins with the black friend recounting a meeting with the passing friend's husband, who calls his wife the n-word as a term of affection because "she gets darker every year."   It's wild. I'm going to go watch the 2021 Netflix movie just to see how they handle it in the movie.

A Hero Ain't Nothing But a Sandwich (1973) by Alice Childress

 Book Review

A Hero Ain't Nothing But a Sandwich (1973)

by Alice Childress

Harlem, New York

New York: 49/105

Harlem: 13/14

   A Hero Ain't Nothing But a Sandwich is a 1973 YA classic about a 13 year old Harlem boy addicted to Heroin.  Certainly it represents some kind of nadir for the depiction of addiction in YA fiction.  Speaking as someone who has been exposed to drugs in various capacities over most of my forty plus years, I found this character hard to imagine.  A thirteen year old who is shooting heroin.  It's insane.  And the whole tone of the book is so blase about it!  I mean, sure college students, heroin, of course, and maybe even high school age student, I mean, ok, it must have happened.  But a thirteen year old?  Why would a thirteen year old even want to do heroin in the first place- speaking as someone who was using drugs at that age- the whole idea of injecting oneself with a needle was abhorrent- still is!

  The tale is told from a kaleidoscope of perspectives but the main players are the junkie teen and his step dad.  There are also some interesting school teachers- one black, one white, who both provide a more complicated portrait of inner city school teachers in a few pages than the other books do in dozens.   The early 1970's were a real nadir for the social fabric in New York City.

The American Slave Coast: A History of the Slave Breeding Industry (2017) by Ned and Constance Sublette

 Book Review

The American Slave Coast: 

A History of the Slave Breeding Industry (2017)

 by Ned and Constance Sublette

  I listened to the 30 hour Audiobook of this title over the last several months- took me a few check outs from the library and then waiting in between check-outs to finish it.  I checked it out because I've been reading about early American capitalism- cued by a recent trip to the Fairmont Copley Plaza (Boston) where I mused over the genesis of American fortune over Espresso martinis in their absurdly rococo hotel lobby bar/restaurant.    "Where does the money come from?" I mused to myself.   

   It comes from the exploitation of natural resources- lumber, stone, later oil and coal.  It came from shipping, where America quickly established itself in the farthest ports as a neutral trading partner.  And, as this book amply demonstrates, it came from the production and sale of human beings, slaves.  Not just in the south, slave BREEDING was close to being a raison d'etre for the original rebellion and a key facet of what kept the union together after the Civil War. 

   I won't recount the argument in full, which is NOT that there was some kind of breeding farm system in place- the authors investigate that allegation and find nothing but a few mentions and letters.  Indeed, slave breeding was both casual and highly complex and integrated with American (and global capitalism) but the key to understanding the narrative here is that the US acted early to band the FOREIGN IMPORTATION of slaves at the behest of the Virginia political class (slave owners) who made money selling their excess bodies to the cotton growing regions in Mississippi and Louisiana.

  They were facilitated by a class of middle men who operated in the north- cotton factories, factors for cotton production and shippers as well as those who operated in the middle- Maryland and Washington DC were the site of "slave jails" where run away slaves (and occasionally kidnapped free men) were sent back to the south.

  The main thesis here is that slavery was not some outlier in America, but rather an economic activity that helped provide the economic basis for the rapid expansion of the American economy- all of it.

   

Solar Bones (2016) by Mike McCormack

 Boo Review

Solar Bones (2016)

by Mike McCormack

   Solar Bones written by Irish author Mike McCormack only contains a single sentence.  It does contain many paragraph breaks, but no periods.  It takes the form of a reminisce by Marcus Conway, who is (I learned from Wikipedia after finishing the book), a spirit who has returned to his kitchen table on All Souls Day.   Something that Wikipedia does not mention is that Conway likely died as a result of a global pandemic that claims his wife during the recollections of the book.   There are just hints of the impending apocalypse- his wife sweating and vomiting her way to death in the bedroom as Conway talks to his alarmist children in different parts of the world.

   McCormack won the 2016 Goldsmith's award for this book and he made the 2017 International Booker longlist, but again, the fact that is a formally challenging, modernist-technique influenced book really dampens the recommendation appeal.  Based on what I know, books like Solar Bones have a zero percent casual readership a month after the New York Times writes its rave review.  People just don't want to be really challenged in their reading comprehension by their literary fiction.  They don't seek it out.

What I'd Rather Not Think About (2024) by Jente Posthuma

 Book Review

What I'd Rather Not Think About (2024)

by Jente Posthuma

Translated by Sarah Timmer Harvey

   The Dutch have been doing all right in the Booker International Prize this past decade. Lucas Rijneveld won back in 2020 for The Discomfort of Evening which was... dark.   Now we've got another Dutch author on this years longlist- I realize by the time this post publishes we will know about the short list, but I'm writing this before that list is announced.  What I'd Rather Not Think About is a work about a pair of fraternal twins- "One" is the older twin, a gay man.  "Two" is the younger, and the narrator, a cis, straight woman. 

   Basically, One commits suicide by riding his bike directly into a canal and drowning (he leaves a note so we know it's suicide).  Such a Dutch way to kill yourself!  Two spends the rest of the book recounting her memories and trying to make sense of what, even by the standards of literary suicide, seems like a random act of self-violence.  Despite the recounting of the off-hand type of comments everyone makes at one point or another ("I wish I was dead." level stuff), there is nothing in the rest of What I'd Rather Not Think About that explains this central act- viewed, rightfully, as an act of abandonment and betrayal, by the narrator.

  Despite the dark subject matter, What I'd Rather Not Think About is a breezy read, easily tackled in an afternoon.  Doesn't seem like a Booker International Shortlist title to me.

And Now You Can Go (1993) by Vendela Vida

 1,001 Novels:  A Library of America

And Now You Can Go (1993)

by Vendela Vida

Riverside Park, Manhattan New York

New York: 48/105

Manhattan: 6/34

This debut novel by the woman who married Dave Eggers (and co-founded The Believer), didn't do much for me.  Also, I question the placement in Riverside Park- where the narrator is mugged(?) at the beginning of the book by one of those criminals who only appears in the pages of literary fiction- yes, he points a gun at her, but he also cries and seems to be crying out for human contact.  Oh, the whimsy of authors of literary fiction.

This event happens in the first five pages of the book, after that Ellis- the 21 year old graduate student- spends the following 200 odd pages not getting over it.  And Now You Can Go was one of those novels that illustrates my complaints about much of American literary fiction- a young character, more or less privileged, who suffers a mild trauma and then absolutely can not get over it for the rest of the book.  It also embodies a frequent trope of American literary fiction, which is a whole cast of characters who behave like they've never worked a day in their life and can't actually understand how that happens.

  Getting back to the placement of this book in New York City- much of it takes places in San Francisco and the Philippines. Vida, the author, is a Bay Area gal through and through. A puzzling choice for such a rich geographic area for literature.