Peter S. Beagle, who write the novel and screenplay for this week’s DVD pick, The Last Unicorn, also wrote the screenplay for the animated version of “Lord of the Rings,” the movie that inspired a kid named Peter Jackson to read the books and then grow up and make the live-action movie trilogy. The last 600 copies of the 1978 animated version of Lord of the Rings on DVD are now available exclusively from Conlan Press.
Brad Pitt is a very fine actor (see “Twelve Monkeys” and “True Romance”) but in this epic fantasy his diligent and thoughtful performance contributes less to the film than his appearance, about two-thirds of the way through. I mean appearance in the broadest sense. It is not until that point that we feel that the Pitt we have been waiting for shows up on screen. And it is at that moment that Pitt’s appearance, meaning his golden movie star beauty, provides the essential jolt that propels the story forward into its final, heart-wrenching conclusion.
It takes its title from a story by F. Scott Fitzgerald about a man who lives his life backwards, born as an old man and getting younger every day. The movie begins with both of its main characters very, very old. One is Daisy (Cate Blanchett), dying in a hospital, with her daughter standing vigil. Daisy asks her daughter to read aloud from an old diary and we go back to the Armistice, the end of World War I. A baby is born and his mother dies in childbirth. The father is horrified by the child and leaves him on the doorstep of a home for the elderly where he is adopted by Queenie (the marvelous Taraji P. Henson), who works at the home. At first he seems like an exceptionally ugly baby. And then as he gets older he seems to be disabled. A nursing home is a perfect environment for young Benjamin Button. He’s just another person who needs help. He is raised in an atmosphere of unconditional love and acceptance and grows up to have a gentle and observant nature.
One day a little girl comes to visit her grandmother. It is Daisy. Benjamin looks like a very old man but he is really a little boy and he wants to play with her. As she grows up, he gets younger, but there are still decades between them. Benjamin leaves the nursing home to work on a ship and writes to Daisy from around the world.
The digital effects are very well done and by this time Pitt starts to become more recognizable, so almost-familiar that we almost believe that this is the way he looks now, that he’s getting a little older like the rest of us. And then, all of a sudden, there he is, the wind brushing his hair, a burnished glow on, around, and coming from him, the very personification of youth and promise and every possible kind of yes. Our hearts ache with the bittersweet longing for what he has that no one ever will, the look and energy of youth with the wisdom and experience of age. And then they ache again with what he shares with us and every human, the awareness of how brief it all really is and the need for connection to transcend life’s limits.
This is a film with the scope and reach of almost a century but its power comes from the smallest gestures and the simplest moments. And its ultimate conclusion is one of the most powerful and moving of the year.
Emma Roberts (niece of Julia) stars in the movie based on the popular book by Lois Duncan about an orphaned brother and sister who rescue stray dogs.
Andi (Roberts) and Bruce (Jake T. Austin) have bounced around from foster home to foster home since their parents died. No one wants them because they insist on staying together. They are currently living with nasty would-be rock stars (Lisa Kudrow and Kevin Dillon), who padlock the kitchen cupboards, as their sympathetic social worker Bernie (a terrific Don Cheadle) tries to find them a better situation. They do their best to take care of their beloved dog Friday, even if it means lying, cheating, and stealing.
When Friday runs into an abandoned hotel and meets up with some stray dogs, the kids decide to turn it into doggie heaven. Bruce, a mechanical whiz, rigs up machines to handle the dogs’ needs (eating, exercise, and going to the bathroom) and their fondest desires (racing to see who’s at the door, riding in cars, howling at the moon). With the help of some new friends from the pet store and the neighborhood, they round up all of the local strays, creating their own family of humans and canines. And that is when things start to get out of hand.
It goes on a little too long, but the kids are appealing, the contraptions are very funny, the dogs are adorable, and the affection, loyalty, and resilience of the characters is touching and inspiring. It’s a family treat.
Steve Lopez thought maybe he would get a column out of the homeless man who was playing a violin with only two strings. He did get a column, and then more, and then a book, a friend, a lot of complications, an education, and a cause. The man he saw on the street was Nathaniel Ayers. The book is called The Soloist: A Lost Dream, an Unlikely Friendship, and the Redemptive Power of Music. And now the story of Lopez and Ayers is a movie starring Robert Downey, Jr. and Jamie Foxx.
I spoke to Lopez in a little coffee shop on Capitol Hill, just before his meeting with Hill staff to talk about mental health policy.
Why does our society do so poorly in helping people who are mentally ill?
There is a “There but for the grace of God” aspect to it, “This could have been me.” It is so easy to look past somebody, to wrap yourself in the generalizations and stereotypes — they might all be dangerous, they might all be capable of lashing out. But it is not a decision. These are our brothers, sisters, sons, daughters. As you go through this population you see that mental illness does not discriminate on the basis of race or income. It is cruel and unrelenting but people can be helped.
What do you hope to accomplish with this book and movie?
I want people to ask, “How does this exist in American society?” The mentally ill are shoved off into this human corral, out of sight, out of mind. Would we do this with cancer or muscular dystrophy? The answer is clearly no. The reason places like Skid Row exist is the stigma of mental illness. I hope this story shines a light on that and addresses some public policy issues.
Tell me about Nathaniel Ayers.
He was not typical but relatively normal. He grew up in Cleveland. A woman recently brought me a photo of him when he was very young, before the breakdown, just charming. You see the photo before the fall, there’s such hope in his eyes, a great future in front of him, passion for music, a great kid in a good family with a mother who had him mind his manners and go to piano class and get good grades, He gets whacked with this just as his career is about to take off. He was a former classmate of Yo Yo Ma.
How aware is he of his illness? Enough to help in his treatment?
Nathaniel has insight issues. There are times when he is very much aware of his own condition and times when he is not. In some ways he has it made. He found out his purpose in life and has everything he needs.
What have you learned from him?
I found him on the street and wanted to help him get him out of his situation. My life was hectic and frantic. He forced me to reconsider the definitions of success and happiness. In some ways this is a story about a man who has lost everything but has a purpose in life that those of us who are considered successful would envy. A change comes over him when he is with the music. He is more coherent and sane. It could be the science and math of it — he sees and hears things we don’t and it is hard to process all the signals, but the notes are in the same place they have been for 200 years. The world can be so terrifying for people who have schizophrenia. So you build a cocoon, a tin foil hat, or something. In Nathaniel’s case he will do his scrawlings. In that safe cocoon of his, music is the medicine, it is what keeps him whole.
I don’t think “What a wonderful life,” I just think most people do not have his purpose, joy, and passion. For me, journalism had become such a negative experience because we sit around newsrooms grousing about the good old days. Seeing Nathaniel made me realize I do not want to spend the last days of my career grousing about what used to be. I heard about an opening in California for a media person for mental health services, thought about doing that, and then decided I could find my purpose by continuing to write. I realize I’m working on the story of my life. It is not only the human drama but he’s helping me and giving me a chance to shine a light on our public policy failures. I am a storyteller, and that is my passion, equal to Nathaniel’s. It would be foolish to give it up. There are other ways to tell stories, and this new movie is one of them. So now I still write but I savor it a little bit more knowing it is what I chose to do. Nathaniel has made me feel much more grateful and devoted.
What were your disappointments or frustrations? In the book you talk about how you felt when he lashed out at you.
I felt very conflicted when despite my best efforts the condition was more powerful, bigger, more relentless than I was. It wasn’t Nathaniel, it was the condition. But how much patience do you have? I understand how families throw their hands up. You ask, “Can I sacrifice all this time for no guarantee of making a difference?” I know and admire and love him too much to turn back. Recovery is not linear, you slide a lot. Nathaniel has been in an apartment for three years. He has a girlfriend, he comes to concerts. Before, he didn’t consider himself worthy enough to see a concert. He would say, “People should not have to sit next to me.” But he now goes himself sometimes. That growth in him is pretty remarkable. Partly it is a friend handing him a lifeline, partly his own courage.
What is it people most misunderstand about mental illness?
They think, “We offered help and they didn’t want it” or “They can go to a shelter.” They do not realize how many challenges and psychological hurdles mentally ill people face. They have a fear of rules, a fear of having to be more social, a fear of being ostracized. Nathaniel feared a return to the world in which he had snapped. All of the places he played on the street were really noisy. He said, “The city is my orchestra.” With the noise, it was impossible for him to hear his mistakes. He did not want to leave the place he used to play because he said the statue of Beethoven would be alone. We got him a bust of Beethoven for his apartment so he could still keep Beethoven company.
What kind of recommendations are you on Capitol Hill to talk about today?
One of my heroes and mentors, Sister Mary Scullion, co-founded Project Home in Philadelphia. They have taken over abandoned neighborhoods and rehabbed the houses. They have turned lost neighborhoods into anchors of the community. We have Project 50, survey teams with clipboards find the 50 neediest and most desperate and chronically ill people and give them wraparound services, coordinating health care, housing, everything. One year into it, 88 percent are still in housing. It is a double tragedy. People are on the streets and we know what works and can bring them in. Not only is this the humane thing to do, it is the cost-effectrive thing to do.
I’m delighted to have four copies of Tale of Despereaux to give away to the first four people who send me an email at moviemom@moviemom.com with Despereaux in the subject line. Good luck!
by Lois Duncan about an orphaned brother and sister who rescue stray dogs.
. And now the story of Lopez and Ayers is a movie starring Robert Downey, Jr. and Jamie Foxx.