Wednesday, April 20, 2005

some movies

been watching a lot of movies lately. saw sideways, a silly, self-indulgent movie about silly, self-indulgent people that made me think that it's not necessarily an unalloyed good thing when people no longer have to worry about how they're going to eat, and the fact that paul giammati is american cinema's new everyschlemiel (replacing steve buscemi).

a couple of nights later, watched hotel rwanda, a totally different experience -- true story of an african hotelier (played by don cheadle, who shoulda won the best-actor oscar imo) in kigali, rwanda, who used his position to rescue 1200 of his countrymen during the hutu-tutsi genocide back in '94. i remember sitting in italy around that time at the behest of the u.n. and nato, watching bosnia (while my buddy jay was performing in sarajevo, where citizens dodged snipers to go hear the symphony) and wondering why the u.s. would intervene in the former yugoslavia to prevent further serb-croat "ethnic cleansing" while not lifting a finger to stop a similarly egregious orgy of bloodletting in africa. it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out -- same reason my dad (who served in the post-world war II u.s. strategic bombing survey while _his_ father sat out the war in an internment camp) used to tell me the u.s. would never have used the atomic bomb on germany. that and the fact that we'd just gotten our asses kicked over in somalia (a fact the filmmaker, through cheadle's character, points out). one good thing about being the biggest kid left standing on the block: you get to choose your battles. i also dug how the screenwriter talked (in a "bonus" dvd interview) about starting out with a sprawling, traffic-like script with a multiplicity of subplots which he had to pare down in the event to the essential, and how he chose cheadle's character to focus on rather than nick nolte's u.n. soldier or joaquin phoenix' journalist. this wouldn't have happened a few years ago; maybe we _are_ improving when it comes to race cards.

last weekend, we went to dinner at the home of one of kat's ex-students, whose brother was leaving for the marines the next day. they're a beautiful family; the father crossed the border a few years ago because it wasn't possible for him to make a living or obtain services for his multi-disabled daughter back where he came from. he's worked hard to make a place here for his family. over the past couple of years, the son who's joining the marines -- a great, smart, strong, loving, respectful kid -- really pushed hard and did a lot of legwork to get legal immigration status for his sister, so she can continue to receive therapeutic services after she ages out of the school system this year. between his academics and financial aid, he'd be a shoo-in for college, but he wants to give something back for all the benefits his family has enjoyed from living in america. (it's funny how really advantaged kids never seem to have this sense of obligation.) he's overwhelmed with the opportunities the marines are offering him now. they're telling him he can have his citizenship in three months, so he can get a top secret clearance and go to intel school. i knew a dozen guys like him on active duty; adult men at 19. i can see him in a couple of years, being the young sergeant everybody looks up to. he's aiming higher than that, thinking about college and a commission, but he's really focused on the next 13 weeks of boot camp; we couldn't help thinking about what'll come after that for him. it reminded me of jesse sierra hernandez' painting that we saw on gallery night: a short-haired, bare-torsoed, brown-skinned kid with aztec tattoos, wearing what appear to be desert bdu pants and combat boots, surrounded by the detritus of his history -- a conquistador's helmet and sword next to a kevlar one and m-16. i'm not about to put a magnet on my car, but i'll be thinking about that young man when i read the news, and hoping for his safe return.

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