Spoiler alert! The most disturbing scene in Oliver! comes near the end of the film when Nancy attempts to reunite Oliver with Mr. Brownlow, the kindly older man who had previously rescued Oliver from street life with Fagin and his gang of pickpockets. Wanting to keep Oliver under his control, the ruthless Bill Sykes beats Nancy to death when he sees that she has disregarded his wishes. The film version of Oliver’s story provides a brief (non-verbal) expression of guilt and possible regret on the part of Bill; but with Bill’s death and the conclusion of the film following hard upon Nancy’s murder, there isn’t enough time for Oliver!’s audience to reconcile the violence they have just witnessed—regardless of how joyful we can presume Oliver’s future life will be.

Since watching Oliver! this past week, I’ve been pondering exactly why I never seem to be able to get to the end of the musical with an overwhelmingly positive feeling. It’s more like that “pit-in-the-stomach” feeling one gets at the end of West Side Story, instead of the elation and hope of The Sound of Music. I’ve come up with a couple of reasons why I just can’t move around Nancy’s death to Oliver’s happiness like the film wants me to.

First, Bill and Nancy both allude to the fact that they were raised as Fagin’s little lackeys. They must have known each other, then, for a decently long time and seem relatively devoted to each other. It’s clear that Nancy loves Bill, despite his flaws and his violent tendencies; and when she tries to get Bill to confirm that he loves her as well, he gruffly replies, “I live with ya, don’t I?” Tragically, Nancy’s tenderheartedness places her in dangerous proximity to Bill’s volatile emotions and swinging fists. Her compassion is admirable, but her choice to stay with Bill is unwise—even though they probably share a strong bond based on past childhood suffering and the present need for survival as adults. So, it bothers me that such a relationship can be smashed to bits in seconds when Bill doesn’t get his way for once–but I’m also uncomfortable with the fact that the relationship has gone on as long as it has.

The troubled Bill Sykes.

Second, the arrangement Fagin has with the young street children is also a bit hard for me to swallow. Fagin obviously uses the children for profit—the risk is theirs, but the “earnings” are his. Well, mostly. Fagin does fill a massive void in the children’s lives: that of father figure. Fagin provides food, lodging, and an adult supervision/guardianship of sorts. Minus the fact that he encourages crime (for survival, I guess), he gives the little pickpockets a home and a kind of stability in a pretty intense and uncertain world.

There are other options, though, for the children in Fagin’s keep. They could go to an orphanage—but, oh wait, we first see Oliver in an orphanage; and it’s dark, dingy, and run by corrupt adults who also look to profit from the children in their protection. Oliver is literally sold by Mr. Bumble, the ridiculous man who runs the orphanage, into the keeping of the Sowerberry family, who are just as rotten as the Bumbles. At least Fagin seems to care about the well-being of his band of thieves—or is it just that he wants the stolen items they bring him in order that he can fill his secret treasure box in preparation for his old age? Like the Nancy/Bill relationship, I’m not too fond of the Fagin/orphans relationship either. Is there no good solution to childhood in poverty?

Fagin and Dodger in cahoots.

For Me Then…

I think maybe my main issue with this film is how it deals with the problem of evil. For all the catchiness of songs like “You’ve Got to Pick a Pocket or Two” and “Be Back Soon,” there’s still the discomfort in seeing the child thieves exploited with no assurance of a better future at the end of the film. Instead, though he wrestles earlier with the possibility of turning his life of crime into a respectable one, we see Fagin join forces with The Artful Dodger to continue their petty crimes to their mutual profit. I guess this is better than Dodger getting nothing for all his efforts, but the pair just throws the possibility of an honest future away. The notion of abandoning evil and turning to good almost becomes a joke at the close of the film. Although Fagin and Dodger are two of the most likeable characters in the film, again in my mind I go back to Nancy and Bill and the bloody scene at the bridge. Their start in the underworld of London came under Fagin’s tutelage in the arts of such “harmless” petty crime, and the results were far from mild for them in the end.

A few years ago, I stood in the wings backstage for my high school’s performances of Oliver! As a backstage manager, my job entailed raising and lowering the curtains, hauling huge (and not-so-huge) set pieces across the stage, attempting to control the craziness of dozens of cast members entering and exiting scenes, and monitoring the whereabouts and productiveness of my half of the backstage crew. It was simply awesome—stressful, of course, but so, so much fun. So when I popped in the film version of Oliver! the other night, all these wonderful memories flooded back. What a lovely film!

“Please sir, I want some more.”

The last musical to win Best Picture during the “golden age” of film musicals, Oliver! (1968, Romulus Films, Ltd. Production; Columbia) marked a farewell to BP-winning movie musicals for 34 years, until Chicago took home the Academy’s highest honor for 2002. In a year that witnessed the invention of Hot Wheels, the beginning of the sketch comedy television series Laugh-In, the assassinations of both Martin Luther King, Jr. and Robert Kennedy, and the election of Richard Nixon as President of the United States, Oliver! truly reflects its place in history by achieving a mix of lighthearted fun and violent tragedy. Nominated for 11 competitive Academy Awards, Oliver! won five: Art Direction, Sound, Music (Score of a Musical Picture—original or adaptation), Directing for Carol Reed, and Best Picture. The film failed to win in the following categories for which it was nominated: Cinematography, Costume Design, Film Editing, Writing (Screenplay—based on material from another medium), Actor for Ron Moody as Fagin, and Actor in a Supporting Role for Jack Wild as The Artful Dodger (Moody and Wild are both fabulous in this film, by the way!). Oliver! was also awarded an honorary Oscar, which went to Onna White for “her outstanding choreography achievement.”

The novelist Charles Dickens in the later years of his life.

Based on the Broadway play that debuted on January 6, 1963, Oliver!’s original source is the 1837 novel Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens. Oliver Twist was Dickens’ second novel, published in monthly installments in Bentley’s Miscellany during what proved to be a very trying time in Dickens’ life. He had just become a new father the month prior to the start of Oliver Twist’s publication; and just a few months into the new serial, his beloved sister-in-law Mary Hogarth, who lived with Dickens and his wife Catherine, died quite unexpectedly. In the midst of one difficult time in his life, then, Dickens hearkened back to another: his late childhood, perhaps the most formative period of his existence (He continued to pull inspiration from this great trial of his life in future novels such as David Copperfield and Great Expectations.)

As a child, Dickens experienced some situations similar to that of his protagonist in Oliver Twist. Forced to work in a factory when his father (and the rest of his family with him) was thrown into debtors’ prison, young Dickens found himself part of the lower rungs of society, having to live and work among some very rough personages. It is most likely this horrifying time in his life that led Dickens to consistently evoke pity for the downtrodden and hope for the exiled of society in his great works of fiction. We see this sympathy for the lower classes in Oliver! in the characters of Nancy, Fagin, and maybe even a little in Bill Sykes. Well, maybe. I must be feeling optimistic today since I get to talk about Dickens. He’s a personal favorite of mine!

Oliver and The Artful Dodger in Fagin’s lair.

For more thoughts on Oliver! and its significance, please check out the full post this weekend!

Most obviously, this film is about racial prejudice: The white cops in Sparta, Mississippi, misjudge the intelligent black police officer from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, who happens to be in the wrong town at the wrong time. But there’s a lot more than just racial tension fueling the plot of In The Heat Of The Night. We find out really early in the film that Ralph, the diner counterman, dislikes the novice policeman Sam for some reason (and hides pie from him every night, which is pretty funny). Delores has an aversion to the sultry Southern summer evenings, but loves to parade around in the buff, which causes everyone problems. Her brother Purdy hates anyone who might get his teenage sister pregnant. Gillespie dreads being alone when he goes home. The mayor abhors drama. And, oh yeah, basically all of these people are racists, at least at the beginning of the film when Virgil Tibbs (MR. Tibbs) is just one more young black man they derogatorily refer to as “boy.”

However, Virgil surprises many of the residents of Sparta. He is clever, resourceful, and determined to bring Mr. Colbert’s killer to justice. But as Gillespie points out, Virgil is also a racist. The biggest draw for Virgil to continue investigating Mr. Colbert’s murder is that he can “stick it to” the white cops who can’t solve the crime without him—that, and he’s pretty sure the aristocratic, white cotton company owner, Endicott (the man who believes he’s still running a Southern plantation), is the murderer. Virgil can hardly wait to ruin that old jerk who still has black people hand-picking cotton for him and serving his guests lemonade. Yet just like the white Southerners (spoiler alert!), Virgil is mistaken in his racial profiling. Endicott is innocent—at least of Mr. Colbert’s murder.

Virgil and Gillespie, the distance between them notable.

For all the tension and racially provoked violence of In the Heat of the Night, the most brutal incident in the film, the murder of Mr. Colbert, occurs before the film opens and isn’t even motivated by prejudice—nope, just by good old greed and the drive to cover up another wrong that’s been committed. I won’t get too specific here since that would take away from the “whodunit” premise of the film! Suffice it to say, the film makes an excellent point about race by veering away from using race as a motivating factor in the story’s main crime. Strip humanity down to its core—take away all the outer indicators of race, sex, economic or social status, etc.—and we see that all people are essentially the same in their motivations. How many characters fall prey to lust in the film? And how quickly does lust lead to the necessity of lies and/or crime to conceal earlier wrongdoing? It doesn’t matter if someone is white or black, educated or not, rich or poor. We all do things we know are wrong; and when shame or fear take hold of us, our inhibitions to do wrong oftentimes decrease, and evil spirals out of control.

For Me Then…

I find it interesting that of all places Virgil is from Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love. In the Heat of the Night features kind of a brotherly love between Delores and Purdy, but their love for each other is colored with suspicion, bitterness, and jealousy. (Spoiler alert!) While we do end up seeing a positive relationship between “brother” policemen, one white and one black, the geographical distance between them (which they both repeatedly emphasize) gives rise to another truth the movie promotes: Since the murder has nothing to do with race and everyone in the film is bigoted in some way, it becomes clear that racism isn’t limited geographically. It’s pervasive, living within people’s hearts. We can make laws, participate in demonstrations, and so on, but these are all outer attempts at a cure for an internal problem. Racism will endure until people allow God to change their hearts.

Virgil and Gillespie, not so very different after all.

On Wednesday, April 3, 1968, Martin Luther King, Jr. arrived in Memphis, Tennessee, and checked into room 306 of the Lorraine Motel. He had planned to participate in a peaceful march with the city’s sanitation workers, who were on strike. However, by 7:05pm of the following night, April 4, Dr. King was dead, shot by an assassin as he stood on the balcony outside his hotel room. The Academy Awards ceremony, scheduled to air on the same evening as the sanitation workers’ march, was postponed to Wednesday, April 10. The show opened with Gregory Peck, then Academy president, giving the following remarks:

“This has been a fateful week in the history of our nation. We join with fellow members of our profession and men of goodwill everywhere in paying our profound respects to the memory of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Society has always been reflected in its art. And one measure of Dr. King’s influence on the society we live in is that, of the five films nominated for Best Picture of the Year, two dealt with the subject of understanding between the races. It was his work and his dedication that brought about the increasing awareness of all men that we must unite in compassion in order to survive. A lasting memorial that we of the motion picture community can build to Dr. King is to continue making films which celebrate the dignity of man, whatever his race or color or creed.”

Aides to Martin Luther King point to the area from where they heard the shot that killed King, lying on balcony, in Memphis, Tenn. April 4, 1968. This photo was released by Life magazine, which obtained it from photographer Joseph Louw, a TV producer who was in a motel room two doors from King’s when he heard the shot.(AP Photo) (cjc21200fls) 1992 Eds: Copyright 1968 Time Inc. MO MO

The nominated films of 1967, as Peck noted, truly do reflect the turbulent times in which they were made. Prior to King’s murder, the country had been rocked by the failed Tet Offensive in the seemingly endless Vietnam War, as well as President Johnson’s announcement that he would not seek reelection. King’s death was swiftly followed by that of Robert Kennedy, himself a civil rights advocate (and presidential hopeful); and the rest of the year 1968 brought more violence and killing.

Film-wise, at the 1968 Academy Awards, the top contenders split the awards just like the tragedies and conflicts mentioned above were dividing the country. Each of the following films won at least two Oscars: Bonnie and Clyde, Camelot, Doctor Doolittle, Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner, and In the Heat of the Night. Cool Hand Luke, The Dirty Dozen, The Graduate, and Thoroughly Modern Millie each took home one statuette. It was a big year for film with a lot of competition for the eventual Best Picture winner, In The Heat Of The Night (1967, Mirisch Corporation Production; United Artists). At the end of the night, In the Heat of the Night had won five of the seven categories in which it was nominated: Film Editing, Sound, Writing (Screenplay—based on material from another medium), Actor for Rod Steiger as Gillespie, and Best Picture (it failed to win for Sound Effects and Directing).

Virgil Tibbs (Sidney Poitier) and Gillespie (Rod Steiger) work together to solve the murder of a prominent small-town businessman.

Based on John Ball’s award-winning novel of the same name, In the Heat of the Night was the first murder-mystery/detective film to win the Academy’s highest honor. It also features Sidney Poitier, the first African-American man to win an Academy Award (for 1963’s Lilies of the Field). Poitier is solid in his performance as Virgil Tibbs, the Philadelphia detective who finds himself embroiled in a murder investigation in a small, prejudiced Southern town. His most famous line from the film, “They call me MR. Tibbs,” is chock-full with implications regarding identity, racial inequality, and self-pride–all concepts that run throughout the film. The movie could not have been released at a better time, for the story of Virgil’s treatment by those who judge him by the color of his skin includes a hint of what life could be like if people were judged instead by “the content of their character.” In its own way, then, this film honors Martin Luther King, Jr.’s legacy of peaceful protest for racial equality and the dream of a better tomorrow.

For more thoughts on In the Heat of the Night and its significance, please check out the full post this weekend!

This week’s film, In the Heat of the Night, is the 40th winner of the Academy Award for Best Picture, so that means it’s time for a rankings update! May I just say that 1.) I can’t believe we are almost half-way through the BPs, and 2.) I very much appreciate the support of those of you who faithfully read the posts every week–even when the films might not be to your particular liking. Thank you for sticking with FlicksChick.com in its inaugural year as I bumble about, learning the art of this blogging thing!

This is the first rankings update that features The Sound of Music as the top film and Tom Jones as the bottom one. There are not too many negative things one can say about either Julie Andrews or a Rodgers and Hammerstein musical–especially one with such vivid backdrops, solid casting, and the historical setting of the Second World War (Sorry, Scarlett). As far as what I could say about Tom Jones…I just didn’t get it. I feel like anything positive I might find in the film should probably be credited to the novel instead (like the half-decent attempt at a plot twist at the end of the movie). But, hey, there’s gotta be a film to bring up the rear end of the list, right?

Without further ado, here are my current rankings:

1. The Sound of Music (1965)
2. Gone with the Wind (1939)
3. Ben-Hur (1959)
4. Lawrence of Arabia (1962)
5. You Can’t Take It with You (1938)
6. All Quiet on the Western Front (1929/30)
7. All About Eve (1950)
8. The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957)
9. West Side Story (1961)
10. My Fair Lady (1964)
11. Casablanca (1943)
12. The Best Years of Our Lives (1946)
13. It Happened One Night (1934)
14. In the Heat of the Night (1967)
15. Rebecca (1940)
16. On the Waterfront (1954)
17. Around the World in 80 Days (1956)
18. The Greatest Show on Earth (1952)
19. Gigi (1958)
20. All the King’s Men (1949)
21. Hamlet (1948)
22. A Man for All Seasons (1966)
23. Mrs. Miniver (1942)
24. Mutiny on the Bounty (1935)
25. The Apartment (1960)
26. The Great Ziegfeld (1936)
27. How Green Was My Valley (1941)
28. The Lost Weekend (1945)
29. Going My Way (1944)
30. Marty (1955)
31. An American in Paris (1951)
32. The Life of Emile Zola (1937)
33. Cavalcade (1932/33)
34. Wings (1927/28)
35. Gentleman’s Agreement (1947)
36. Cimarron (1930/31)
37. The Broadway Melody (1928/29)
38. Grand Hotel (1931/32)
39. From Here to Eternity (1953)
40. Tom Jones (1963)

The intermixing of government and religion has spent a lot of time in the forefront of our society these days. From laws regarding religious organizations having to cover birth control for their employees to bans on immigrants from primarily Muslim countries entering the United States, religion and government conflict more than we often like to admit. In light of the close company government and religion traditionally keep, perhaps our present time is not so very different from that of this week’s BP, A Man For All Seasons. And in the story of Sir Thomas More as related in the film, we can see our own struggle to follow conscience and uphold personal religious convictions even when faced with possible government sanctions and/or ostracizing as politics and religion slog it out in the oftentimes murky waters of the law.

The devout More leads his family in prayers before he departs on a political(-ish) errand.

Speaking of law, in More’s eyes it is (or should be) his salvation. In refusing to sign the Oath of Supremacy that names Henry VIII “Supreme Head of the Church of England” and breaks the power of the pope and the established Catholic Church over his realm, More commits high treason. Convinced that his king is in error both legally and before God, More resolves to keep his true opinions to himself on the matter of the king’s desired divorce from his first wife because, as he tells the conniving Cromwell, “The maxim of the law is ‘Silence gives consent.’” Not explaining his apparent treason, then, should lead people to assume More supports the king rather than opposes him—at least, that is the conclusion More comes to after all his years of studying and practicing law. Cromwell mocks this reasoning by asking More if the English people actually assume his support of the king (which they obviously don’t).

But while More employs the rhetoric and semantics of the law as a shield between his “deviancy” and the government’s persecution, his main struggle is with the fact that there are two kinds of laws: man’s laws and God’s laws. Undoubtedly, More would support Henry’s altering the laws of England, but the nature of the changes Henry makes breaks God’s laws about marriage and the supremacy of the Church, in More’s mind. More cannot abide a man—regardless of his title or the extent of his power—naming himself as the head of the country’s spiritual matters. Nor can More condone Henry’s manipulation of the Church’s policies regarding divorce and remarriage that follow his usurping of the pope’s power. Reluctantly, then, More must take his stand against his lord. (Spoiler alert!) Vowing to the very end of his life that he is “the King’s obedient subject,” More dies for his beliefs, the law in which he trusted failing to save him.

More at his trial during which he places his faith in the law to protect him.

For Me Then…

I dislike More’s reasoning that people should assume his approval from his silence. If his conscience prevented him from taking the king’s required oaths, then he should have spoken clearly (earlier) regarding his specific disagreement on religious grounds. It seems to me that it was a compromise of values to hope people saw him as a supporter of the king’s new church and wife when the stand he was making in his own mind and heart indicated otherwise.

But, I cannot fathom the agony of More’s position or the difficult decisions he had to make. And for one who loved and honored the law, who was convinced of his innocence and believed that his countrymen and his sovereign could never violate the sacrosanct laws of England, it must have come first as a great shock and then a horrific sorrow to realize that the religion he held dear and thought he shared with his lord and his peers was being subjugated to the king’s selfish desire to produce an heir.

This is a very frustrating film, yet it does make one think. In our own time, what would my choice be if faced with a dilemma such as Sir Thomas More’s? When government oversteps the laws of the land and tramples on God’s laws, is silence the right response? I think not. But trusting in the law for salvation rather than God’s ability to save is incorrect as well.

We’re taking a musical break this week to focus on the historical drama A Man For All Seasons (1966, Highland Films, Ltd. Production; Columbia). If you’re a huge fan of musicals like I am, there’s one more upcoming BP winner for you (1968’s Oliver!) before we sadly have to take a decades-long musical hiatus. If I can digress a moment…in case you can’t wait until 2002’s Chicago to break the BP musical drought, you can always head to your local theater and indulge yourself with the new original musical, The Greatest Showman—not a perfect film by any means, but the songs are outstanding, and the film overall is a delight (Personally, I’m in love with it!).

But back to this week’s main focus…A Man for All Seasons lucked out a bit come Oscar ceremony time in 1967. The televised show was almost cancelled due to a strike by the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists (the organization known as AFTRA), which oversaw live telecasts. The strike ended mere hours before the ceremony was set to air on live television, providing legendary Oscar host Bob Hope with plenty of fodder about people at home viewing a two-hour-long commercial brought to them with advertising from the Academy Awards’ sponsors. Hope also had some serious words to close the show that night: “If the medium is the message, our medium has a message for us all. Man has a great hunger for laughter, a great thirst for beauty, and above all man has a great need to see himself as others see him, and thus to gain a greater understanding of the emotions of which he is made. That really is what motion pictures do. They interpret human emotions, give them dimension, shape, form, and voice. Motion pictures are the full-length mirror in front of which the world can stand and see its unlimited capacity for stupidity or genius, for cruelty or kindness, for bigotry or brotherly love. It’s a vital work, a noble work; and believe me, ladies and gentlemen, I’m proud to be a part of it.” Besides capturing in part the impetus behind this website in particular, Hope’s parting words to the Oscar audience of 1967 connect well with A Man for All Seasons, for this film examines law and justice (both man’s and God’s), silence and speech, loyalty and betrayal—in essence, it brings to light some of the deepest struggles and emotions humanity can experience.

Sir Thomas More, Lord High Chancellor of England.

Based on Robert Bolt’s play of the same name and adapted by Bolt (a man who also holds screenwriting credits for Lawrence of Arabia and Doctor Zhivago!) for the screen, A Man for All Seasons takes its title from the words of Robert Whittington, a contemporary of Sir Thomas More, the film’s protagonist. In 1520, Whittington wrote, “More is a man of an angel’s wit and singular learning. I know not his fellow. For where is the man of that gentleness, lowliness and affability? And, as time requireth, a man of marvelous mirth and pastimes, and sometime of as sad gravity. A man for all seasons.” Such a man of conscience, as More is portrayed in the film, found his beliefs mightily challenged when he became Lord High Chancellor of England during the reign of Henry VIII. Henry, depicted in the film as a fickle, selfish ruler, needed to have a son to ensure his succession. His first wife, Catherine of Aragon, his former sister-in-law, had yet to produce a son for her husband, although she did present him with a daughter who would become known as Bloody Mary during the years when she held the English throne. Henry’s desire to divorce Catherine and marry Anny Boleyn caused not only a political rift in his kingdom, but a religious one as well. Since the pope refused to grant Henry a divorce, Henry broke with the Catholic Church and proclaimed himself head of the Church of England. None of this sat well at all with More, a staunch Catholic. More’s dilemma of upholding his loyalty to his lord while refusing to compromise his religious beliefs is the basis for the drama of A Man for All Seasons.

King Henry VIII and Sir Thomas More share a tense moment regarding the king’s demand for a divorce from his wife.

Perhaps riding the wave of British popularity in America (you know, the aftereffects of the “British Invasion”), A Man for All Seasons took home six Oscars out of eight nominations in 1967, winning for Costume Design (Color), Cinematography (Color), Writing (Screenplay—based on material from another medium), Directing for Fred Zinnemann, Best Actor for Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More, and Best Picture. The two awards it failed to win were Actor in a Supporting Role for Robert Shaw as Henry VIII and Actress in a Supporting Role for Wendy Hiller as Alice More.

For more thoughts on A Man for All Seasons and its significance, please check out the full post this weekend!

Apart from their seemingly endless capacity for pure entertainment, the films in the Star Wars franchise play with issues and themes that range from immigration, race, and gender to the conflict of good vs. evil, the dangerous effects of having absolute power, and the significance of personal responsibility. After indulging in a Star Wars binge over the holidays, I’ve been ruminating on these films quite a bit and have come up with a list of lessons I’ve taken away from the nine films that currently make up the series. Some of the items in the following list are a bit humorous; others I’m still contemplating as far as if/how they might work with a Christian worldview, yet I’ve included them for discussion purposes. Feedback is welcome!

1. Get to know your neighbors. To Luke Skywalker at the beginning of Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope, his neighbor is “Old Ben,” an odd hermit-like man who couldn’t possibly have done anything heroic or spectacular in his life. Little does Luke know that Ben is really Obi-Wan Kenobi. Who might my own neighbors be?
2. Don’t subscribe to the idea that there are lost causes. What would the universe of Star Wars be like if Luke had given up on his father, Darth Vader, and hadn’t clung to the belief that there was still good in him?
3. Be persistent. When the Empire rebuilds that Death Star, just shoot it down again and again until they get the idea that you won’t give up.
4. Be flexible. Situations change constantly and quickly, and so must you.
5. Always be prepared. Make sure your breathing apparatus and grappling hook are with you at all times and in good working order—just in case you have to swim underwater undetected or jump off a building.
6. Have faith that good always wins out in the end. It will.
7. Always go back for your friends. True friends will come back for you as well.
8. Make new friends. You never know when you’ll need them most.
9. Don’t give in to anger or be puffed up with pride. Those are sure and swift ways to the Dark Side.
10. Don’t listen to/believe flattery. (See #9)
11. One person’s junk is another person’s treasure. So, don’t offhandedly dismiss the rejected or roughed up things (or people!) of the world.
12. Listen to your feelings, but always let good and your understanding of it determine your course of action. Young Jedi are repeatedly instructed to tap into their feelings; however, in crunch time when the well-being of the universe is at stake, it is not just feelings that motivate the Jedi to heroic deeds. Rather, it is their knowledge of the Light Side of the Force, their love of what is good, and their belief that this good will be triumphant that leads them to put themselves at risk and confront the Dark Side.
13. There’s always a bigger monster out there waiting to devour you. Sometimes this can work out well when a larger monster gobbles up the smaller one that is attacking your vessel. However, this lesson also hints that evil is cumulative and will devour the one who entertains it if left unchecked.
14. Be teachable. How many of Anakin’s, Luke’s, Rey’s, and Kylo Ren’s problems can be traced back to a resistance to the humility that is required to truly learn from a master?
15. Failure is the greatest teacher. Yoda says this, so it must be true.
16. Always keep your arms close to your body. One of these days, I’m going to count how many characters lose their limbs in these films—especially their right arms, which traditionally can be symbols of strength or power.
17. Be ready and able to see past others’ disguises. This lesson gels nicely with the films’ emphasis on being oneself and living up to one’s own destiny. It’s best to be real.
18. It’s better to hang with a small group of outsiders who fight for a cause than a large group who unquestioningly runs with the status quo. As one memorable t-shirt says, “Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups.” Don’t be one of them.
19. Think outside the box. Being unpredictable and inventive are often precursors to greatness and vast influence, which can be used to spread goodness and defeat evil.
20. There are few things in this world more powerful than hope. “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love” (I Corinthians 13:13).

Hello, Everyone!

I spent a large part of this week binge-watching Star Wars films and started thinking today that I should delay the posts for the next BP, A Man for All Seasons, and do a special post on Star Wars since I can’t get it out of my head! You will be able to read about some insights I received from Star Wars this weekend, and the posts for A Man for All Seasons will be up next week. Also, we are only two films away from our 40th Best Picture winner (wow!), so I will post my BP rankings again in a couple of weeks. As always, thanks for your support!