In Which We're Obviously Too Dumb to Understand Good Movies

I have experienced a disheartening revelation: I don't "get" horror movies.

Earlier this year, I went to see "The Witch."

[I should mention here that the rest of this post contains spoilers galore, so if you haven't seen "The Witch" or "It Follows"--and you intend to see them--you might want to stop reading here.]

Here was a highly praised, critically approved horror movie.  And I'll admit that, from a technical standpoint, it was fairly well done: Interestingly gloomy cinematography, well-acted, and featuring a few legitimately spooky moments.  But basically, the movie can be summarized as, "Adolescent girl is accused of being a witch, denies being a witch, but in the end turns out to be a witch."  And I, for one, walked out of the theater thinking, "OK, so. . .  well. . . That happened. . . .," but without any clear idea of what the hell I had just spent the last 90 minutes or so watching.

Last night, I watched "It Follows," an even more lavishly praised movie: 97% positive rating on "Rotten Tomatoes"! An instant classic!  Yada yada yada!  And again, I acknowledge a certain skill on the part of the filmmaker, who displays an impressive ability to make ambulation look threatening.  On the whole, however, this movie left me thinking nothing so much as, "Wha?"  I write this post, then, in the hopes that someone can explain to me what the movie was about, and thereby help me gain an appreciation for what seems to be a highly popular genre.

The movie opens on a quiet, suburban street at dawn (or maybe dusk).  The street appears empty.  Suddenly, a young scantily clad woman bursts out of a house, apparently running from something.  She runs into the middle of the street, stops, and looks around.  The camera pans around the scene, revealing. . . . NOTHING.  (Not a sausage, as Monty Python might say.)  A helpful neighbor asks if the girl needs help, and she says no.  She runs BACK to the house--from which she had just escaped--where her father has now come out to see if she's OK.  She runs past him, into the house, and then bursts out again a few seconds later, runs to her (father's?) car in the driveway, and takes off.

Cut to: The girl is driving, it is now night time, her cellphone is ringing.  She does not answer.

Cut to: A beach--

And I should mention here, we later learn that the movie is set in the suburbs of Detroit (I gather this from the references made to "Eight Mile Road" being a boundary between suburbs and city).  I was unaware that Detroit had a beach, so. . . y'know, live and learn.

--It is still nighttime.  The girl sits on the sand.  Her cellphone rings again.  She answers.  It is her father.  She is apologizing for her occasional bouts of nastiness, and assuring Dad that she loves him.  She looks up, looks scared.  And then it is morning. The girl is lying on the beach, dead, her right leg bent up and snapped horrifically, so that her toes are pointing directly down at her face.  End of "prologue."

We next see our heroine Jay Height, floating in an above ground swimming pool in her backyard.  She is your typical, pretty girl-next-door.  Her sister appears, and we find out that Jay is goin on a date that night.  We also meet Jay's "posse," who are hanging out at her house, notable among whom is Paul, a boy who is obviously crushing hard on Jay.  These all seem like perfectly nice kids.

We follow Jay to her date at the movies with Hugh (who is actually named Jeff, but never mind).  While on line, they play a game called "Trade": One person secretly identifies another person with whom he or she would like to trade places, and then the other person is supposed to guess who the first person chose.  Hugh chooses first, and Jay is unable to correctly identify Hugh's choice.  Then it's Jay's turn to pick someone.  Hugh looks around the theater and asks if Jay picked "the girl in the yellow dress."  Jay doesn't know who Hugh is talking about.  Hugh says something to the effect of, "The girl in the yellow dress.  Right there."  He points at what appears to be an empty space.  Jay is confused.  Hugh freaks out and asks if they can just leave. He wants some fresh air.  Jay agrees and they continue their date at a diner.

Now, why Jay doesn't have the sense at this point to realize the guy's a freak and ask to be taken home is beyond me, but let that go.  In fact, Jay agrees to another date and this time, she and Hugh/Jeff go all the way in the backseat of Hugh's car.  Post-coitally, Heff gets out of the car and begins rummaging around in the trunk.  Is Jay confused by this?  Suspicious?  No.  She engages in a serene monologue about her youthful visions of romance--all the while her somewhat-odd-to-say-the-least lover is rummaging around in the trunk of his car like some serial killer looking for a roll of duct tape!  And, indeed, when Heff returns to the backseat, he promptly smothers Jay with a rag (I guess soaked in ether--because everybody has that!).

When Jay awakes, she is in what looks like a large abandoned parking structure, in her bra and panties, handcuffed to a rolling office chair.  Heff is there, too, frantically looking around, and explaining that he's not going to hurt her.  Well. . . to be exact, he's not going to hurt her, but, by having sex with her, he has passed along to her some sort of curse.  "It'll follow you," he says.  What "It" is is some kind of ghost or phantom or. . . or. . . entity that can assume the shape of anybody and that wants to kill the person who has been "cursed."  To get rid of the curse, Jay simply has to have sex, at which point the entity will change its focus to whomever Jay has sex with. 

At this point, I'm thinking, this doesn't sound like such a big deal curse.  I mean, all Jay needs to do to break it is to have sex.  How hard is that?  I mean, sure, for some people--ahem--this would be death sentence, but Jay's an attractive woman: Surely she could find someone willing to help her free herself from this curse.  Heff explains, though, that if the entity manages to kill Jay before she has sex with someone else, then the entity will renew its focus on Heff. . . and after killing Heff, it will resume its search for the person who passed the curse to Heff in the first place and so on down the line.  In other words, if I'm reading this correctly, there is no way to break this curse, as, even if Jay does pass it on, it will at some point simply come back to her.  At this point, I'm thinking that the movie is satirizing that common trope in Hollywood horror films, whereby sex equals death.  And maybe it is, but, if so, it certainly seems to be taking itself seriously while it does so.

Anyway, Jay soon finds herself being stalked by walking phantoms that no one else can see or hear.  Fortunately, these apparitions can only walk--and fairly slowly at that.  Why, therefore, Jay doesn't just hop a flight to Australia as soon as she realizes the nature of her plight--again, that's beyond me (and possibly beyond the filmmaker's budget, which I guess would explain it).  At any rate, she and her friends can outrun the ghost fairly easily.  Jay does eventually have sex with one of her friends, but he comes to the predictable end, which, as mentioned above, means the entity is once again stalking Jay.

Here, friendzoned Paul comes to the rescue: Jay won't have sex with him (because, y'know, friendzone), but Paul has an idea!  He and the rest of the Scooby gang gear up and take Jay to what appears to be an abandoned  (yet still full and clean) public swimming pool, which is housed in a gothic building that looks straight out of some 1930's Dracula movie and appears to be located twenty miles from. . .well, absolutely anything else.  The plan is for Jay to wait in the pool while the Scooby gang places all manner of electrical appliances around the pool's periphery.  When the entity inevitably follows Jay into the pool, they will (presumably after waiting for Jay to climb out of the water) toss the appliances into the pool and electrocute the ghost.  Why would Paul assume that a ghost (or whatever) can be electrocuted?  Again, no idea, and, sure enough, the plan does not work.  The entity does show up and, instead of getting into the pool, proceeds to chuck the electrical appliances at Jay, which does not electrocute her, either.  Paul is reduced to shooting the entity in the head, which is surprisingly (although not permanently) effective--effective enough, at least, to allow everyone to escape Frankenstein's natatorium.

OK, so, now, having exhausted all other options, Jay agrees to let Paul "help" her in the only proven way he can.  (So, guys, if you're wondering how to get out of the friendzone, the answer is: It requires supernatural intervention.  But you probably already knew that.)  The final scene of the movie shows Paul and Jay walking hand in hand up another quiet suburban street, while in the distance behind them, something is FOLLOWING!

Oh, and if you're wondering who the girl at the beginning of the movie was, join the club.  Presumably some previous victim of the entity, but then why the ghost didn't just work its way back along HER line of sexual partners, your guess is as good as mine.

Not from "The Onion"

"The Labor Department, after years of battling Wall Street and the insurance industry, issued new regulations on Wednesday that will require financial advisers and brokers handling individual retirement and 401(k) accounts to act in the best interests of their clients."
                                              --"U.S. Reins In Advice-Givers on Retirement"

What a concept!  Financial advisers legally required to provide advice that serves the people to whom the advice is given!

This could start a societal revolution!  Imagine if professionals everywhere were required to do the jobs for which they have been hired!  No more firefighters committing rampant acts of arson, nor librarians ferociously guarding stacks of books from the depredations of hordes of eager borrowers!  Dare we dream of a world in which doctors no longer walk around decapitating their patients? Or where bus drivers don't deposit passengers at the base of impassable mountain trails?  (Well, except for the Greyhound Impassable Trail Limited, for which such behavior would be thoroughly acceptable.)

Reading this news, I even find myself optimistic that the Senate will do its job when it comes to, say, confirming judicial nominees.  Although that's probably too fantastical a concept to be seriously considered.

Abortion Logic

The degree of difficulty involved in getting an abortion in Texas has reached Olympic diving levels, thanks to a number of laws placing onerous requirements on abortion providers.  Lawmakers disingenuously claim that these laws actually protect women, requiring, for example, that doctors who perform abortions at small clinics have admitting privileges at hospitals and that the clinics themselves conform to rigorous hospital-like standards that actually have nothing to do with providing safe abortions.  These laws don't seem to have any practical effect, other than putting abortion clinics out of business--which is of course what they we're designed to do. If state lawmakers really wanted to improve the safety of women seeking abortions, they could simply, for example, provide additional funds to abortion clinics, but that obviously will never happen.

What I find particularly galling about these laws is that they force women determined to get an abortion to undertake arduous journeys--sometimes of hundreds of miles--to find one of the few clinics that remain open in Texas. An article in today's paper tells of a woman who actually flew to California to have an abortion because she couldn't get an appointment at an overbooked Texas clinic.  She considered herself "lucky" that she was able to take out a high-interest loan to get the procedure done. And she's kind of right, as any number of women don't have the same resources. So in other words, these "protective" laws force women who lack the financial resources to get an abortion to, perhaps, carry a pregnancy to full term--because raising a child obviously poses a much smaller financial burden, right?

Take Donald Trump... Please!

Trump enthusiasts and apologists--as well as people who can't stand the man and are just trying to comprehend his rise--often explain his appeal by saying that he is "funny."  I suppose he is, in the same way that fart jokes are funny--they're amusing once in a while, but they do get tiresome and repetitive.  And an appreciation for fart jokes is not the kind of thing most people take pride in.  A recent instance of Trumpian "humor" features The Donald splashing his adoring audience with a water bottle and yelling, "It's Rubio!"--a reference to his rival's well-documented thirstiness during a response to a State of the Union Address.

I doubt Trump's acolytes realize the irony in celebrating their idol's "sense of humor," while demonizing President Obama--arguably the funniest man ever to occupy the Oval Office.  Love him or hate him, few would dispute that the guy has great comic timing.  But more importantly, we are selecting a president, right, not a comedian-in-chief.  And if we are electing a comedian, we can certainly do better than Trump, right?  Jon Stewart must be itching for a new gig by now, no?

Trumped

Today, in honor of Black History Month, a staff member at my college gave a presentation on Liberia.  The presentation was well-attended and thorough and interesting.  At one point, the presenter showed a slide explaining that, in the heyday of colonialism in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Liberia and Ethiopia were the only two African nations not annexed, colonized, or otherwise exploited by Western powers.  Instead of finding this inspiring, however, all I could hear was Donald Trump's voice in my head, saying, "That's disgraceful! Disgraceful! Now if I had been president back then, we woulda had one-hundred percent colonization of Africa!  Am I right?  It woulda been unbelievable!"

This campaign is really getting to me.

Apple Nitpicking

Apple CEO Tim Cook this week published an open letter in which he condemned a court order requiring Apple to "unlock" an iPhone that belonged to one of the perpetrators of last December's San Bernardino massacre.  Apple claims that requiring the company to create a "back door" to hack into the device represents some unconscionable violation of privacy rights.  And while in general I find it heartening that the tech colossus has such a passionate regard for customer privacy, I'm frankly bewildered by Cook's response.  Am I missing something?

People have a right to privacy.  But privacy, like any other right, has limits.  Police or other government agents may not come into my home and search it--unless they have a warrant expressly allowing them to do so.  Law enforcement agents may tap phones and read text messages, as long as, again, they convince a judge that such intrusions are necessary.  How is this case any different?  A judge has signed an order allowing law enforcement to overrule an individual's right to privacy--and frankly, since the owner of this particular iPhone was killed after his attack, I doubt he's particularly concerned with his right to privacy anymore.  (And on a visceral level, I feel he forfeited that right when he and his wife decided to gun down a dozen innocent people at a Christmas party, but that's kind of beside the point.)

Apple, I think, claims that the request is unreasonable because it is forcing the company to create a mechanism--which doesn't currently exist?--to compromise its own security systems.  They claim that this mechanism could then allow others to hack other iPhones.  Which I guess is a legitimate concern, but does anyone believe that hackers aren't already trying to figure out ways to hack iPhones?  If Apple engineers do create this workaround, will we all really be so much less safe than we are now.

Another objection I've heard is that, if the US government can compel Apple to unlock its technology, then what's to stop other governments from requiring such accommodations.  Well, nothing, I guess.  But, what's your point?  Governments enforce laws.  If Apple operates in a country, it is subject to the laws of that country.  Like any "citizen" (corporations are people, right?), Apple can dislike the laws and can use its considerable financial and political muscle to advocate for changes to those laws--but it can't simply disregard the laws.  And this is true whether we're talking about US law or the laws of other countries.

Finally, some have suggested that Apple simply cannot bypass the encryption standards it has programmed into its devices--that is, that they don't have the technological capacity to do so.  I believe the technical term for this response is "bullshit."  I don't believe for one second that Apple engineers could not figure out a way to unlock an iPhone.  Put it this way: If some evil genius creates a virus designed to target and destroy Apple's internal networks, and if the only way to prevent the release of this virus was to crack open the evil genius's iPhone, I suspect the good men and women at Apple would figure out a way to do so.

I have the same basic concerns as anyone else over the tendency of government agencies to intrude into the lives of private citizens.  But as long as the government is playing by the well-established rules of law, then corporations have no excuse not to play by the same rules.

Don't People Even Know How to Obstruct Anymore?

What is wrong with Mitch McConnell?  OK, let me be more specific.  What was Mitch McConnell thinking when he declared that the Republican-controlled Senate would not so much as consider confirming anyone President Obama nominates to replace Antonin Scalia on the Supreme Court?  I understand partisan politics, and I get that McConnell wants to fire up the conservative base, particularly in an election year.  But still, the man has been a politician for years: Does he not understand the basics of politics?  Has he become so unhinged by eight years of Obama-hatred that he cannot remember them?

Look, all McConnell had to do was provide a simple disingenuous sound bite: "We are all shocked and saddened by the sudden death of Justice Scalia.  Now is not the time to discuss the politics of selecting his replacement.  In due time, after the President selects a nominee, the Senate will hold thorough hearings to determine this candidate's qualifications for this vital position."  Anyone with a basic grasp of American politics circa 2016 would translate this as, "No way in hell will we confirm whatever Commie Pinko Muslim-sympathizer Comrade Obama has the nerve to send our way."  And we could all get on with our lives, avoiding at least one political kabuki dance.

But no.  McConnell decides that the way to handle the situation is effectively to say, "Mr. President, we advise you not to do your job."  The paleoconservatives rejoice McConnell's sticking it to the man while everybody else erupts in outrage or, at best, shakes their heads and wonders what the heck is happening.  I mean, does McConnell--or any Republican senator--think that telling Obama not to nominate someone will convince Obama to, y'know, not nominate someone?  Sure, that person may face an uphill--or impossible--battle; sure, the Senate may reject even the most qualified nominee--as is, technically, their right; but to declare yourself opposed to acting in accordance with the most basic reading of the Constitution you claim to revere seems to be displaying hypocrisy for no good reason.

I suppose Obama could totally call their bluff by nominating, say, Jeb Bush!.  Not like he's going to be president or anything.  And since the Senators promised not to hold hearings, what harm would be done.  I kinda think he should go ahead and nominate Trump.  He's ultimately not much worse than Scalia, and arguably better on the social issues.  I kid, of course.  He should really just nominate himself.  Let Biden take care of the country for the last few months until Hillary gets into office.