Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Just Before Our Christmas Celebrations...
While in the US, you can't be in the army and say 'Happy Christmas', in Russia, the schools' curriculum makes the learning of Orthodox Christianity mandatory.
Have a very happy Christmas.
Last thing. I dream of a day when you walk into Sainsbury's and they are playing this on a loop instead of pop-pap. I'm sure the decline of Faith is correlated to awful Christmas music.
Last thing. I dream of a day when you walk into Sainsbury's and they are playing this on a loop instead of pop-pap. I'm sure the decline of Faith is correlated to awful Christmas music.
Gangster Squad
Postwar Los Angeles is in thrall to Mickey Cohen (Sean Penn), boxer-turned-Mob boss whose sadism frightens even fellow gangsters. Police Chief Bill Parker (Nick Nolte) taps war hero John O'Mara (Josh Brolin) to head an off-the-books team of cops and fight Cohen head-on. O'Mara's chief lieutenant Wooters (Ryan Gosling) is a ladykiller more interested in bedding Cohen's moll Grace Faraday (Emma Stone). The squad uses unorthodox methods, namely kneecapping and wiretapping, to unravel Cohen's scheme of monopolizing LA's gambling rackets. But it's only a matter of time until the crime boss hits back.
Gangster Squad borrows slavishly from The Untouchables, restaging its set pieces without Brian De Palma's slick direction and giddy enthusiasm. When Cohen rants about murdering the heroes (and their families!), we remember Robert De Niro doing it ten times better. Besides De Palma, writer Will Beall lifts key scenes from Dirty Harry (the badge-throwing scene) and Lethal Weapon (O'Mara offering Cohen "a shot at the title"). That's not to mention Mulholland Falls, from which Gangster Squad lifts its plot and setting.
What's left are stock situations that were passe in Al Capone's day. Gangster Squad expends its creativity on marginal bits, like O'Mara's wife (Mireille Enos) helping recruit teammates rather than nag. This is a movie where six heroes with pistols easily vanquish a dozen machine-gun toting villains. Where the diffident Wooters requires a child's death to motivate him. Where Cohen instructs henchmen "You know the drill!" before dispatching a victim with - you guessed it - a miter saw. The lack of irony extends to the premise: Gangster Squad barely questions whether extrajudicial death squads are a good idea.
Fleischer proves equally inept at characterization. O'Mara's team compiles every archetype in the book: the straight arrow leader, roguish sidekick, tech dweeb (Giovanni Ribisi), streetwise black dude (Anthony Mackie), grizzled geezer (Robert Patrick) and his Mexican Man Friday (Michael Pena). Were the Asian martial artist and gay best friend on vacation? Cohen seems to have wandered in from a Bugs Bunny short, while Grace acts and dresses like Jessica Rabbit. Possibly Fleischer took the phrase "live-action cartoon" literally.
For all this, Gangster Squad could still work as popcorn entertainment with decent direction. Sadly, Fleischer opts for the whiz-bang style of Zack Snyder, complete with overdone CGI and swooping slow downs, lingering on spent shell casings and shattering Christmas bulbs. A nighttime car chase is dazzlingly incoherent, while the climactic battle has all the style of a middling first person shooter. Sure the art direction and costumes are neat, but if that's the best you can say about an action flick something's wrong.
Nor does Fleischer do his cast any favors. Josh Brolin emerges unscathed: his bedrock integrity sells O'Mara's inflexible uprightness. On the other hand, Sean Penn goes hog wild in a performance of teeth-gnashing absurdity; even Nick Nolte seems comparably sedate. Ryan Gosling seems lost in a period film; as Gosling's love interest, Emma Stone mainly coasts on their chemistry from Crazy Stupid Love. Other than Robert Patrick's crusty cowpoke, none of the other cops make much impression.
Gangster Squad is loud, graceless and stupid. Even those seeking late night HBO viewing would be well-advised to stick with Transformers, or something of comparable merit.
A holy, peaceful and merry Christmas to you all
"If ever the Catholics or bishops rule again in England they will set the church doors open on Christmas Day, and we shall have mass at the High Altar as was used when the day was first instituted, and not have the holy Eucharist barred out of school, as school boys do their masters against the festival.
What, shall we have our mouths shut to welcome old Christmas?
No, no, bid him come by night over the Thames and we will have a bark door open to let him in.
I will myself give him his diet for one year to try his fortune, this time twelve months may prove better".
17th Century Anon
People Who Believe in a Creator but Who Cannot Believe in the Virgin Birth...
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| 'Making all that is and instituting laws governing the Universe which was made out of absolutely nothing is a breeze, but preserving the Virginity of just one woman is a bit above my pay grade...You're asking a bit much there, mate...' |
There remain in the World and in the Church people who believe in God, a Creator, Who created all things that came to be, but who cannot bring themselves to believe in the Virgin Birth or the perpetual virginity of Our Lady before, during and after childbirth.
These people, presumably believe that the God who willed that from out of absolutely nothing there should form billions of stars, planets, the entire Universe, creating all living beings, trees, rivers, oceans, water, and crowned Creation with man, all out of nothing and Who instituted all the laws which sustain the continuation of everything as we know it, would find preserving the virginity of one woman, the Blessed Virgin Mary, 'a bit tricky'.
Surely if we accept that all that exists comes from nothing, but that God simple spoke and it all came to be, and there was afterwards something, then we must accept that there is nothing that is impossible for God, or remotely 'tricky'. For those who claim to believe in God to deny the Virgin Birth because 'that is impossible' means they don't really believe in God because in human terms neither can anything be created 'out of nothing'. There is a logical inconsistency about modern day denials of the supernatural from within the Church, not just outside of it from sceptics.
I would say that once you have created an entire Universe 'out of nothing', nothing is impossible or difficult. These days we seem to have a problem with belief in various articles of Faith and it is not just on the matter of the Perpetual Virginity of Our Lady. We see it with Faith in the Real Presence, the reality of the indelible marks on the soul of Baptism and the Priesthood. The supernatural is seen as problematic. God is God. What's the problem? Why can't we just accept that God's action is a Mystery in which we can believe without comprehending?
If He is truly the Son of God, then His Birth is going to be something extraordinary, since His Mother is the Ark of the New Covenant. She, also, is not going to be 'just another lass'. She is going to be something, someone extremely special and extraordinary in order to be the Tabernacle in which will dwell the Most High Lord. There is a logical and resonable consistency to the Church's doctrines, but only if we accept Jesus is Lord on His terms, not ours. Belief in these doctrines all seem to hinge on the age old arguments concerning Who we believe Jesus Christ is. That even Prelates in the Catholic Church should doubt or profess doubt concerning the doctrines of the Church, or that some even try to 'humanise' or minimise the holy and miraculous in order to make believers feel more comfortable is or should be extremely concerning because if the nature of this Child's birth is unextraordinary, then, frankly, what is there to celebrate? The implications of unbelief in the Virginal Birth within the Church are horrifying. However...
...with all that said, I wish readers a very happy, holy and blessed Christmas.
Gaudete!
Gaudete!
In the bush which Moses saw unconsumed, we acknowledge thy admirable virginity, preserved: intercede for us, O Mother of God.
Good old BBC, never fails to disappoint
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| Sorry, no tangos at Latin Masses, only at Latino ones! |
The answer, of course, is number three, and it originates from the BBC's Strictly Come Dancing programme, or, as I prefer to call it, Strictly Come Pornography.
For that, really, is what it is. Sorry to be a killjoy but pornography it is.
Those that nominated number one, the Berlin nightclub were a shade off strasse; but it could well have been snapped in a dodgy joint in Germany's capital.
And, as for those who suspected that the photo came from a Catholic Mass in Buenos Aires, what an outrageous suggestion.
Can you possibly imagine a sensuous, provocative dance taking place on the sanctuary after Holy Mass?
That would surely be an act of sacrilege, the modern day equivalent of prancing round the golden calf.
You just have time to make it to Confession before Midnight Mass.
Now for the BBC.
Radio Four on Sunday morning and the adenoidal tones of that pillar of the Church, Ed Stourton.
He is introducing a piece on the seasonal celebrations, you know, the ones that we love to take part in at this time of the year 'cept he's not talking of Christmas and the birth of the Messiah, no, no,
no-ooo!
Ed is speaking about the Winter Solstice and how pagans love to gather at dawn around the standing stones of Stonehenge - great!
And then, as I listened in horror whilst attending to matters of dental hygiene I hear a Pythonesque voice state words to the effect that:
"Well, Stonehenge is a place of spirichool healing, just like Lourdes, reelly"
At this point I had to call Mrs L to disentangle my toothbrush from my epiglottis.
Nice one Ed and your pagan chums!
Last Minute Christmas Shopping Ideas
You can see a trailer here.
I expect the sequel will be called 'Neo-Prometheus: The Return of the Pelagian' in a special collectors edition 'self-absorbed' packaging.
Monday, December 23, 2013
Remembering Peter O'Toole, Part III: Elder Statesman
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| Recognition at last |
The '90s found Peter O'Toole working apace. He played the snide secretary to John Goodman's King Ralph (1991), chased fairies as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in Fairy Tale: A True Story (1997) and battled demonic worms in Phantoms (1998). He continued dabbling in television, being one of about 100 stars in the 1996 Gulliver's Travels miniseries, and adapted his stage triumph Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell. O'Toole always gave value for money, even when the roles were forgettable.
O'Toole established himself as a lovable raconteur. His two-volume memoir, Loitering With Intent, was warmly received. Through the '90s and early 2000s he gave several thoughtful interviews with Charlie Rose, expounding on his life and career. He also became familiar on the late night talk show circuit, where his eccentricity and ever-so-slightly tipsy demeanor dimly recalled the hellraiser of decades past. Who can forget his 1995 entrance on David Letterman atop a beer-drinking camel?
O'Toole never patched things up with Sian Phillips - in fact, the two reportedly never spoke after their divorce - and his relationship with girlfriend Karen Brown (producing a son, Lorcan) dissolved in similar acrimony. But O'Toole remained close to his children; daughter Kate, who followed Peter into acting, called O'Toole "a great dad and the best friend I ever had."
In 2003, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences offered O'Toole a Lifetime Achievement Award. O'Toole, a seven-time nominee, was initially disinclined to accept, saying that he'd "like to win the lovely bugger outright" after so many failures. But his children persuaded him to do so would be ungraciously. O'Toole reconsidered, giving a gracious acceptance speech to the body that finally saw fit to honor him.
O'Toole's 0-8 record as a nominee has drawn much comment. In 1962 he lost to Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird. No shame in this: a newcomer against an established star in an iconic role. In Becket, he split the vote with Richard Burton, allowing Rex Harrison to win for My Fair Lady. Less excusably, O'Toole's losses for The Lion in Winter (to Cliff Robertson in Charley) and Goodbye Mr. Chips (to John Wayne for True Grit) come down to Hollywood's practice of awarding actors "make-up" Oscars for unrecognized past performances.
Later turns were bested by Marlon Brando in The Godfather, Robert De Niro in Raging Bull and Ben Kingsley in Gandhi - heavyweights in arguably their best roles. Besides the competition, consider the films. The Ruling Class and The Stunt Man are off-the-wall cult flicks - it's surprising O'Toole even earned nominations. By contrast, My Favorite Year was a light-hearted comedy, a genre the Academy typically scorns. A mixture of studio politics and bad luck prevented O'Toole's success.
Competitive Oscar or no, O'Toole plugged gamely along. Most of his pictures were undistinguished, like the insipid Troy (2004) and forgettable Stardust (2007). Few except critics saw his amiable performance in 2005's Lassie. In 2006 he reteamed with Omar Sharif in One Night With the King, in which he played the Prophet Samuel - for about 30 seconds. Television gave him meatier roles in Augustus and Casanova.
O'Toole earned his last Oscar nomination for Venus (2006), playing an aged actor obsessed with Jodie Whittaker's callow teenager. Venus earned good reviews, yet I find it dry and slightly perverse - though O'Toole gives provides enough charm to justify watching. "It is not easy to define that special, paradoxical glamor Mr. O’Toole wears like a well-worn, perfectly tailored jacket," wrote A.O. Scott, "but whatever it is, he still has it." Many observers considered O'Toole the sentimental favorite that year, but Forrest Whittaker won for The Last King of Scotland instead.
On another plane, there's Pixar's Ratatouille (2007). O'Toole voices the vulture-like Anton Ego, a snobbish food critic brought down to earth by a simple stew prepared by a rat. He delivers a beautiful monologue contemplating the place of criticism and its need to champion the original, the brave, the unexpected rather than mere snark (Groggy, take note). Many felt O'Toole deserved an Oscar nomination; if there was ever an argument for the Academy awarding voice actors, Anton Ego is it.
In 2008 O'Toole landed a plum role on Showtime's The Tudors, playing Pope Paul III. Larded with sex, violence and historical absurdity, but buttressed by (mostly) good acting and impressive pageantry, Michael Hirst's Henrican soap opera is a textbook guilty pleasure. But there's no guilt enjoying O'Toole's gleefully wicked turn as a Holy Mob boss. As a spidery hypocrite, winkingly aware of his own treachery, Paul makes a mark with little screen time.
O'Toole closed out the decade with Dean Spanley (2009). Based on Lord Dunsany's 1939 novel, it's the whimsical tale of a bored Edwardian Englishman (Jeremy Northam) who becomes enchanted by an eccentric priest (Sam Neill) who envisions his past life as a dog. O'Toole plays Northam's father, eccentric and emotionally constipated, unable to show affection towards. Yet his visits with the priest reawaken O'Toole's dormant emotions, especially towards his older son, lost in the Boer War. O'Toole handles this development with beautiful subtlety, leading to a heartrending denouement.
In 2012 O'Toole retired from acting, shortly after completing work on Katherine of Alexandria. "The heart for it has gone out of me: it won’t come back," he informed fans. "It’s my belief that one should decide for oneself when it is time to end one’s stay." Having suffered a long illness, O'Toole finally met his sad, though not entirely unexpected end last Saturday.
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| Lions in winter: O'Toole with Vanessa Redgrave in Venus |
Consider how O'Toole compares to these peers. Richard Burton is typically remembered for squandering his formidable talents on booze, bad movies and Elizabeth Taylor. Mention Oliver Reed and you conjure drunken TV appearances and public nudity, not the gifted star of The Three Musketeers and Women in Love. Bates, Caine, Finney, Harris and Redgrave retain respect, but few would name them all-time greats (Smith perhaps being an exception).
O'Toole, in contrast, receives reverential status. He's known for carousing yes, but it never eclipsed his work. "The remarkable thing," David Thomsen once wrote, "is [O'Toole] has outlived some in this group in ways no one would have predicted. He was picked early on as someone who would destroy himself, not just by drinking but because of his whole attitude and manner." Close as O'Toole came in the '70s, his subsequent recovery cemented his status as a legend.
How many contemporary stars did O'Toole inspire to pursue acting? Tom Cruise once told USA Today that "I remember seeing Lawrence of Arabia... and I knew I wanted to be an actor." Keanu Reeves said that The Ruling Class and Becket "had a great impact on me...I love [O'Toole's] game and vitality." Tom Hiddleston developed Loki for Thor by watching The Lion in Winter. "What's beautiful about his performance is you see how damaged he is... It's almost as if he's living with a layer of skin peeled away," Hiddleston remarked.
More simply, O'Toole's body of work speaks for itself. "If you wanted to be a proper actor... you have to have versatility," he once observed. T.E. Lawrence, Lord Jim, Jack, Lord Gurney, Henry II, Alan Swann, Reginald Johnson, Eli Cross, Maurice and yes, Anton Ego could attest to that.
Rest in peace, Peter O'Toole. You are missed.
Social Gospel
Can someone explain to me an aspect of the Gospel that is not social?
Christ's Teaching on divorce and remarriage for example. I'd say that was pretty 'social'.
One question....3 possible answers
The question refers to the picture below.
The question is............where is this dance taking place?
I would like to offer the first winner out of the hat weekend for two at the Pyongyang Hilton but......
The answer will be published tomorrow
The question is............where is this dance taking place?
Select one of the following answers:
1. A Berlin nightclub
2. A Catholic Church in Buenos Aires
3. The Strictly Come Dancing studio at the BBC
I would like to offer the first winner out of the hat weekend for two at the Pyongyang Hilton but......
The answer will be published tomorrow
Sunday, December 22, 2013
A Little Bit of Joy of the Gospel
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| Last Christmas at St Mary Magdalen Church |
Because I feel rather overwhelmed just now by the latent, and in some cases blatant, "We don't like your type around these parts," noises and "You're not from round here, are you?" murmurings coming from Rome, I feel it slightly incumbent upon me, as a Catholic parishioner of a parish Church in which both Rites of the Church are celebrated to defend those priests and parishioners who hold as sacred, that which has been passed down and held as sacred for previous generations. I guess you could say I am feeling 'tetchy'.
We have a homeless man, young, vulnerable, with mental health problems, constantly neglected by the local authority, but who accepts with meekness his situation as a rough sleeper. He sleeps in a Brighton cemetery, his sleeping bag often battered by high wind and rain. He has family in the area, but things are difficult with family - though I do not know the details. He has been imprisoned for shoplifting sandwiches from local supermarkets when hungry. He recently spent seven days in Lewes Prison for failing to turn up to a probation appointment. He maintains that he wants to be baptised and has a strong faith in Jesus and too in Mary.
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| 'Simple, humble liturgy' does not automatically foster love for the poor |
He was made to feel included and loved and walked away, having been offered food and given refreshments, quite a bit of money in his pocket to help him along his hard road ahead of him on a not particularly pleasant December weekend.
I say this not to boast of the parish's very ample record of loving the poor and showing mercy to the outcast and the stranger, but simply to reaffirm that there is no contradiction between love for Sacred Liturgy and love of the poor. To me this seems obvious, but as we hear that liberation theologians are and were 'always orthodox' in belief, despite a certain horizontal dodginess that runs throughout such literature, it is becoming obvious that those who hold onto that which was sacred to previous generations are being quickly and unjustly labelled or pigeonholed into some kind of gang of hardline 'conservative' force that is mean-spirited to the poor.
Of course, this is just one incident in what is a common theme at the Church that I attend of constancy in service to the poor, one example of which is the Soup Run to the homeless that feeds the poor every night 365 days a year. There simply is no contradiction between being desirous of liturgy that directs our hearts to Jesus Christ in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and that magnifies His Most Sublime Sacrifice and being open-hearted and compassionate to the poor. I would like to 'nip this one in the bud' as soon as I can, but I have a feeling that it may in time be a slur that comes in the direction of those who uphold dignity and reverence in both the modern Roman Rite and the Mass of Ages.
Of course I am but a 'peripheral' blogger, with a very limited audience, but let it be known now that if this kind of thing comes from Rome, and accusations start being banded around that traditional Catholics (aka 'crypto-lefebrevists') are indifferent to the poor and the outcast, that this is a fabricated and malicious lie from the Father of Lies. Neither is there any reason to think that indifference to the reverence and dignity of the Sacred Liturgy automatically translates into care for the poor. In fact, those who use or abuse the Liturgy to suit their own personal preferences are, in my honest opinion, far more likely to use the poor for their own ideological purposes.
A Child's Christmas
An extract from Dylan Thomas's 'A Child's Christmas in Wales'
"Years and years ago, when I was a boy, when there were wolves in Wales, and birds the colour of red-flannel petticoats whisked past the harp-shaped hills, when we sang and wallowed all night and day in caves that smelt like Sunday afternoons in damp front farmhouse parlours, and we chased, with the jawbones of deacons, the English and the bears, before the motor car, before the wheel, before the duchess-faced horse, when we rode the daft and happy hills bareback, it snowed and it snowed.
But here a small boy says: "It snowed last year, too. I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea."
I quite like the "jaw bones of deacons" bit but I'm not sure about chasing the English.
The Franciscan Friars......just following the Pope by saying the Latin Mass
This 2010 video clip shows Fr Pellettieri of the FFI explaining that they follow the example of St Francis when it comes to obedience to the Pope.
Trouble is......which Pope?
Fr Pellettieri is referring to Pope Benedict.
He also explains that the Order is not solely focused on the EF Mass and that it celebrates the OF Mass according to custom and to the wishes of the local Bishop.
It all sounds so very temperate and sensible.
Trouble is......which Pope?
Fr Pellettieri is referring to Pope Benedict.
He also explains that the Order is not solely focused on the EF Mass and that it celebrates the OF Mass according to custom and to the wishes of the local Bishop.
It all sounds so very temperate and sensible.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Is this the best crib in the land?
Most church cribs are pretty good in my opinion.
And, of late, garden centres and cash and carries have started retailing two foot high crib figures, so there may be a resurgence of displays in shop windows in the future.
It would seem to me, that church groups might well start a fundraising campaign to buy crib figures that they can loan out to interested retailers at Christmas.
Some years ago the Red Cross organisation (apart from denying that their 'cross' had anything to do with Christianity) placed a ban on cribs being displayed in their shop windows.
And now, in the American Forces canteen in the encampment at Guantanamo Bay, I read that a crib (what do they call them in the US?) put in place by some members of a construction team, has had to be removed to a chapel just in case anyone becomes overcome by fundamentalist tendencies and starts reciting the Rosary or something.
Having also read today in The Daily Fascist, that most young people believe that Father Christmas appears in the Bible, it might be a much needed initiative.
But, please tell me, don't you think that the crib below is quite the best in the country?
It is the work of Fr Jason Jones of The Sacred Heart Church in Morriston, near Swansea.
And, of late, garden centres and cash and carries have started retailing two foot high crib figures, so there may be a resurgence of displays in shop windows in the future.
It would seem to me, that church groups might well start a fundraising campaign to buy crib figures that they can loan out to interested retailers at Christmas.
Some years ago the Red Cross organisation (apart from denying that their 'cross' had anything to do with Christianity) placed a ban on cribs being displayed in their shop windows.
And now, in the American Forces canteen in the encampment at Guantanamo Bay, I read that a crib (what do they call them in the US?) put in place by some members of a construction team, has had to be removed to a chapel just in case anyone becomes overcome by fundamentalist tendencies and starts reciting the Rosary or something.
Having also read today in The Daily Fascist, that most young people believe that Father Christmas appears in the Bible, it might be a much needed initiative.
But, please tell me, don't you think that the crib below is quite the best in the country?
It is the work of Fr Jason Jones of The Sacred Heart Church in Morriston, near Swansea.
Every detail is there, just as it probably was in Bethlehem; there are a few chickens nestling down in the straw, the odd lamb, of course, a duck or two (why not?).
And, if you take your time to study all of the scene, you may see other animals, such as.........but look for yourself.
Let me help you out, there's a donkey, all the way from Finestrat, maybe. Some glowing lanterns.
What's that on the sack of grain?
A rat! Heavens above! But what would be more natural to find in a stable?
Even the Vatican has its share of rodents who like nothing better than to gnaw away at the heart of the Church.
Now, you may think (depending upon your attitude towards felines) that there's an animal species missing.
Here they are (groan)....
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Could they have travelled all the way from Blogfen? No crib is complete without a hen |
Venerable Archbishop Fulton Sheen on Antichrist
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Do men like Cardinal Kasper not have any sense that at the Head of the One Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church reigns Our Lord Jesus Christ? Can the Body really tell the Head what to think?
The Venerable Archbishop Fulton Sheen's quote springs to mind, as well as the prophecies of Our Lady of La Salette ('the apostasy will start at the top'). Of course I am not suggesting that either Cardinal Kasper or Pope Francis are the Antichrist. No...we all know that's Archbishop Marini...
'The Antichrist will not be so called; otherwise he would have no followers. He will not wear red tights, nor vomit sulphur, nor carry a trident nor wave an arrowed tail as Mephistopheles in Faust. This masquerade has helped the Devil convince men that he does not exist. When no man recognizes, the more power he exercises. God has defined Himself as "I am Who am," and the Devil as "I am who am not."
Nowhere in Sacred Scripture do we find warrant for the popular myth of the Devil as a buffoon who is dressed like the first "red." Rather is he described as an angel fallen from heaven, as "the Prince of this world," whose business it is to tell us that there is no other world. His logic is simple: if there is no heaven there is no hell; if there is no hell, then there is no sin; if there is no sin, then there is no judge, and if there is no judgment then evil is good and good is evil. But above all these descriptions, Our Lord tells us that he will be so much like Himself that he would deceive even the elect--and certainly no devil ever seen in picture books could deceive even the elect. How will he come in this new age to win followers to his religion?
The pre-Communist Russian belief is that he will come disguised as the Great Humanitarian; he will talk peace, prosperity and plenty not as means to lead us to God, but as ends in themselves. . . The third temptation in which Satan asked Christ to adore him and all the kingdoms of the world would be His, will become the temptation to have a new religion without a Cross, a liturgy without a world to come, a religion to destroy a religion, or a politics which is a religion--one that renders unto Caesar even the things that are God's.
In the midst of all his seeming love for humanity and his glib talk of freedom and equality, he will have one great secret which he will tell to no one: he will not believe in God. Because his religion will be brotherhood without the fatherhood of God, he will deceive even the elect. He will set up a counterchurch which will be the ape of the Church, because he, the Devil, is the ape of God. It will have all the notes and characteristics of the Church, but in reverse and emptied of its divine content. It will be a mystical body of the Antichrist that will in all externals resemble the mystical body of Christ. . .
. . . But the twentieth century will join the counterchurch because it claims to be infallible when its visible head speaks ex cathedra from Moscow on the subject of economics and politics, and as chief shepherd of world communism.'
It seems we are entering a time of the Church in which her 'divine content' is seen as a threat to peace, fraternity and the joy of the Gospel. The irony is that for someone like Archbishop Fulton Sheen, the liturgy of the Church was about pointing us towards Heaven - leading us Heavenward, towards Christ, our God. The holy doctrines of the Church, in which the faithful met certainty of truth, too, point us Heavenward, towards Christ, our God. Without truth and worship, we men and women are surely rudderless, wounded by error and inflicted with grievous doubts as to the Image of Jesus Christ, how to live our lives as Christians and how to look beyond this World to the glory of the World to come. Poor, simple liturgy with a humility that is manufactured and contrived by man obscures the true Image and Face of Jesus, detracts from the Holy and is unable to lift us away from preoccupations with this World and lead us Heavenward.
My great concern at the moment, as a 'loyal son of the Church', is not just the fear that I am witnessing the foundations of Holy Mother Church being pulled down by even well-intentioned prelates who desire to cure a wounded Church by force or coercion, but that if the Antichrist appeared in these days, these same prelates would flock to him because they fail so often to point us to the World to come, to the glory and beauty that is Jesus Christ, Who is Truth and Charity. The Antichrist will promise wonderful things but not lead anyone to Salvation, but all to destruction - eternal destruction, but for those who resist.
We cannot be indifferent to the basic needs of our neighbour, but neither can we be indifferent to Jesus Christ, nor can we be indifferent to doctrine and pretend that truth has no value or significance for us as men and women. The bitter irony is that while those who seek to defend both holy doctrine and holy liturgy are disregarded as 'obsessives', that it appears those who govern in Rome, more and more, make of those who defend them outcasts, lepers and attempt to use force to impose their vision of the Church upon them, even to the point of removing from them that which it is licit and lawful to do.
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| Jesus came so that we may worship God in time and eternity |
The more those who govern the Church of Rome seek to please man or to offer mankind something other than Salvation, the more vulnerable the Church will be when the 'son of perdition' is revealed. It may well be that this does not happen in our age, but it has to be said, that we live in an age in which the Church is perhaps more vulnerable to the lies and deceits of such a man, than at any time in Her history.
Our Lord Jesus Christ, Whose birthday we will celebrate at Christmas was born into time and space to take us into eternity with Him. Eternity is, by all measurements, a very long time. The sorrows of this world, truly sad as they are, will one day cease to be. If we are faithful to Jesus Christ, He has promised us eternity with Him. When the Church emphasises earthly matters and fails to point us towards eternity with the Most Holy Trinity, even to the point of contemplating the rejection of God's Divine Laws for human pleasure and respect, we can be sure that not only is the Evil One working to make a mockery of God in His Holy Temple, but so, too, does he make a mockery of mankind, since he works only to derail Christian worship, our Salvation and the eternal happiness with God promised to the Faithful that can indeed be prevented, if Truth is neglected.
May Our Lady of Good Success pray for the Pope, for the whole Church and in particular, for the Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate, their tertiaries and all who hold them in high esteem for their zeal for souls and love of the Christ and His Church.
What Star Wars is Saying About These Times
Results of the Papal Conclave as peace flows like a river across the Church
Benedict XVI resigns
Reforming the curia and granting doctrinal authority to Bishops
One of the Sisters of the Immaculate makes an appeal for mercy
'Cooperation' is greeted with stubborn refusal from visibly upset traditional Catholic
Friday, December 20, 2013
Mumming and ‘The Case of Peas’
They were known as ‘Mummers’ and, for the most part, their plays contained a moral theme.
| Old Moll of the Tablette tries to snatch the case of peas from Bodger Corny |
One of the most prominent plays in the mummers’ repertoire was the performance called ‘The Case of Peas’.
This has its origins in the scarcity of foodstuffs in the harsh winters of that period.
Vegetables, harvested in the summer months, would be dried, stored and eked out during the winter.
Vegetables, harvested in the summer months, would be dried, stored and eked out during the winter.
Peas were one of the main sources of protein and energy and it became a customary act of friendship to present one’s friends with a case of peas to help them through the winter.
The main characters in the play were as follows:-
Slasher Dawkins, a villain who seeks to create trouble and strife in the community by crying out: "There are no peas".
Baron Loftass, who is frequently represented as either a clergyman or a seer who prophecies doom and gloom.
Old Moll of the Tablette, provides the key heretical element to the play.
Little Man Vince, who is presented as always looking for his hat (as well as the case of peas).
Bodger Corny, this character provides the much needed comic element.
In the course of the play, Bodger Corny is the first to initiate the presentation of a Case of Peas which is then stolen by Slasher Dawkins who claims:-
“‘Tis my case of peas and there’s no doubt, they’re nice and plain, no frills about. I’ll eat them with my stargazy pie and wash them down with a glass of rye”
Finally, after much debate over ownership of the case of peas, Baron Loftass appears and hands out peas to all in the cast.
The modern day handshake is believed to have its origins in the custom of gifting a case of peas and, even at modern Catholic Masses today, you will see people shaking hands whilst uttering the immortal and historic phrase: “The Case of Peas” which has become abbreviated to: “Peas be with you.”
Remembering Peter O'Toole, Part II: Decline and Renewal
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| Mad, bad and dangerous to know |
The 1970s saw Peter O'Toole's career unraveling. Now one of the world's biggest stars, O'Toole could choose his parts - yet his film roles, at least, were generally forgettable and unrewarding. During this time, he became better known as a raucous hell raiser than an actor.
The decade started, at least, on a high note with Peter Medak's The Ruling Class (1972). Peter Barnes' surreal play ruthlessly satirizes Britain's political establishment. O'Toole plays Jack, 14th Earl of Gurney, who succeeds after his father dies in an embarrassing accident. Jack is a schizophrenic who thinks he's Jesus Christ, and his relatives scheme to either cure or disinherit him. They succeed all too well: Jack goes from a loopy, loving Christ figure to a very proper English aristocrat indeed - Jack the Ripper.
O'Toole had seen Barnes' play during its 1968 stage run and quickly bought the film rights. Director Peter Medak badly wanted to adapt it, but O'Toole needed some persuading. By Medak's account, he won the star over by joining him on an epic pub crawl through London. O'Toole showed his devotion to the project by forfeiting his entire salary, choosing instead an oversized paycheck for Man of La Mancha.
The Ruling Class rivals Lawrence as O'Toole's best performance. Barnes' surreal set pieces force O'Toole to give an exceedingly physical performance: belting out Verdi, dancing a cakewalk, hopping on and off a makeshift crucifix, "levitating" a bench. O'Toole does even better burbling absurd aphorisms, as when he declares his love for Grace Shelley "from the bottom of my soul to the tip of my penis." There's no room for subtlety here; O'Toole devours scenery in a hammy, outsized, almost operatic performance. And it's utterly glorious.
O'Toole flawlessly transitions to psychotic killer in the second half. Defeated by the "Electric Christ" and browbeaten by his peers, he takes their perorations about greed, hunting and sexual licentiousness to their illogical conclusion. Jack's rants about capital punishment and fornication strike listeners as very sound indeed - though to us, he's ranting just as he'd done before, psychoses welling up from an inner pool of madness. O'Toole walks a careful tightrope in these scenes between absurd caricature and bone-chilling psychopath. And sometimes he's both at once.
Sadly, The Ruling Class marks a bright spot in a dismal period. Murphy's War (1971) is another trip to the Lawrence/Lord Jim obsessed hero well, and not a particularly rewarding one. Man of La Mancha (1972) was a colossal flop, proving O'Toole out of his depth in musicals. Even diehard fans are better off forgetting Rosebud (1975) and the notorious Caligula (1979). ("What is a knight of the realm doing in a porno movie?" he asked John Gielgud.) Even a rare worthwhile role, like his fine Lord Chelmsford in Zulu Dawn (1979), drew little attention.
Besides The Ruling Class, O'Toole's best role from this period is Clive Donner's made-for-TV Rogue Male (1976). Based on Geoffrey Householder's 1939 novel (which earlier inspired Fritz Lang's Man Hunt), O'Toole plays an English aristocrat obsessed with assassinating Adolf Hitler - dovetailing nicely with O'Toole's own fascination with the Nazi dictator. Not that many have seen it: Rogue Male spent years languishing in obscurity, remaining hard to see even today.
O'Toole gained more notoriety for uncouth off-screen behavior: marathon benders, showing up drunk on sets, sniping at costars and directors. One notorious incident occurred during the filming of Rosebud. As a prank, Kenneth Tynan sent O'Toole a letter claiming the IRA planned to blow up his hotel. Tynan's joke was in decidedly bad taste, which doesn't excuse his victim's reaction. O'Toole tracked Tynan down and, along with two toughs, beat the critic within an inch of his life.
Such antics brought more than bad publicity. O'Toole discovered that he suffered from diabetes and stomach cancer, losing his pancreas and part of his stomach. In 1979, his marriage to Sian Phillips dissolved in considerable acrimony and mutual infidelity. And an increasing number of producers, viewing O'Toole as an unstable drunk and "box office poison," refused to employ him. Robert Sellers notes that by the late '70s "O'Toole was fast becoming a parody of himself: a caricature faded film star."
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| Nadir: O'Toole in Caligula |
Richard Rush gave O'Toole his fifth Oscar nomination with the The Stunt Man (1980). Rush lobbied for O'Toole to play director Eli Ross, even when the studio insisted on a more bankable star. "The character of the director was of course one that I immediately projected onto...and I desperately wanted O'Toole to play it," Rush said later. O'Toole needed little convincing; he'd enjoyed Rush's Freebie and the Bean (1974) and was eager to work with him. After reading the script, O'Toole reportedly told Rush "Unless you let me do your film, I will kill you."
O'Toole's Eli Cross amalgamates every obsessed director O'Toole ever worked with, David Lean particularly. He torments Steve Railsback's fugitive-turned-stuntman with megalomaniac rants ("If God could do the things we do, he'd be a happy man!") and murderous stunts. Completely obsessed by his work, Cross views harboring a fugitive as a minor inconvenience if it helps finish his film. He surveys the set from a camera crane, an enigmatic creator comfortable in his absolute power of imagination. And pity the lowly assistant who tampers in his domain...
My Favorite Year (1982) proves an even better showcase. Compared to Stunt Man's acid satire it's a gentle, bathetic work, longing for the magic that only movies can bring. Richard Benjamin's film focuses on a '50s TV show modeled on Sid Caesar's Your Show of Shows. O'Toole plays washed-up matinee idol Alan Swann, ostensibly based on Errol Flynn, but drawing heavily on O'Toole himself. It's hard to avoid autobiographical assumptions when Benjamin uses clips from Lord Jim and The Great Catherine as Swann's own vehicles.
Alan Swann became O'Toole's signature role as much as Lawrence or Henry II. Compared to Jack and Eli Cross he's more straightforwardly comic. O'Toole has great fun whether boozing in a hotel room, lashing out at producers or ferrying Mark Linn-Baker's frazzled young producer around New York. He gets big laughs showing off something that's "for ladies only" and his frantic breakdown before the final show. "I'm not an actor - I'm a movie star!" he bellows in the movie's most famous scene.
As in Lawrence, O'Toole matches flamboyance with measured gestures. One beautiful scene has Swann mournfully watching his daughter play; his wordless stare speaks volumes. Regret and self-loathing underpin the silly hijinks. Swann's screen image is a lie he can't escape - he's trapped by an idea of being a hero, even as he makes no pretense as such. Hence his pained reaction to Linn-Baker's last act scorn, or his gallant dance with an aged fan. Hence, also, his decision to go on with the show, routing the goons menacing Joseph Bologna's show boss. Year closes on the perfect image of Swann celebrating his victory: fantasy made flesh, if only for one glorious moment.
O'Toole complemented these cinematic triumphs with stage and small screen roles. He won accolades as a Roman General in ABC's miniseries Masada and voiced Sherlock Holmes in a popular animated series. While his 1980 Macbeth earned negative notices (one critic sniffed "he delivers every line...as if addressing an audience of deaf Eskimos"), O'Toole successfully reprised his role as Tanner in Man and Superman and made a superb Henry Higgins in a 1987 Pygmalion. In 1989 he starred in Keith Waterhouse's Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell, playing a famous Spectator columnist. It became O'Toole's best stage role since Shylock: he'd reprise it in 1999 and star in a made-for-TV version.
Another standout role from this period is Bernardo Bertolucci's The Last Emperor (1987). O'Toole's role is relatively minor: as Pu Yi's tutor Reginald Johnson, he tries to inject perspective and sanity into the monarch's sheltered life. It marks a graceful transition from star to character actor, able to contribute to films without dominating it. This quiet but powerful performance helped establish O'Toole as an elder statesman of cinema.
O'Toole, once a tyro who often feuded incessantly with fellow actors, had evidently mellowed with age. Richard Rush declared O'Toole "an absolute dream to work with. You couldn't ask for a more perfect working companion." Young actors especially warmed to O'Toole. Vincent Spano, O'Toole's costar in Creator (1985), recounts that O'Toole would spend hours tell[ing him] all these great stories about his childhood, growing up in Ireland."
By the end of the '80s, O'Toole recouped his reputation as one of the greatest working actors. Lawrence of Arabia's 1989 restoration and re-release further cemented his critical standing. Now O'Toole could look forward to his autumn years with hope rather than trepidation.
Continue to Part Three
Remembering Peter O'Toole
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| "He was the most extraordinary man I ever knew." |
What follows is my stab at appreciating Peter O'Toole's life and work - detailed but not comprehensive, admiring but not uncritical. Ordinarily I'd try a more creative or succinct approach, but such thoughts desert me. At any rate, an actor with such a rich and varied career deserves it more than most.
* * *
Peter O'Toole was born in 1932 to an Irish bookmaker and nurse mother. Surviving youthful poverty, Catholic school and Royal Navy service, he dabbled in journalism before drifting into theater. In 1953 he graduated from the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts, Albert Finney and Alan Bates among his classmates. It was "the most remarkable class the academy ever had, though... we were all considered dotty," O'Toole said. Another peer was Welsh actress Sian Phillips, whom O'Toole married in 1959.
In early roles, O'Toole mixed Shakespeare and Shaw with modern characters like Jimmy Porter in John Osborne's Look Back in Anger (1957) and Bammo in Willis Hall's The Long, the Short and the Tall (1959). Kenneth Tynan, arbiter of English theater, proclaimed O'Toole a budding star: "To convey violence beneath banter, and a soured, embarrassed goodness beneath both, is not the simplest task for a young player, yet Mr. O’Toole achieved it without sweating a drop.” Others compared to him to Laurence Olivier. Playing Hamlet at the Old Vic in 1958, aged just 26, reinforced the comparison.
O'Toole reached an early pinnacle in 1960 when Peter Hall invited him to the Royal Shakespeare Company. During that time, O'Toole played Pertruchio in The Taming of the Shrew opposite Peggy Ashcroft, Thersites in Troilus and Cressida and Shylock in The Merchant of Venice. O'Toole won rave notices for the last role, making Shylock not a monstrous caricature but “a human being of stature driven to breaking point by the inhumanity of others." Perhaps inevitably, O'Toole became drawn to the cinema.
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| O'Toole with Peggy Ashcroft in The Taming of the Shrew. |
Then preparing Lawrence of Arabia, Lean needed an actor to play T.E. Lawrence after Marlon Brando and Albert Finney declined the role. Lean saw Robbed and, after speaking with Katharine Hepburn, approached O'Toole. After a hastily-arranged screen test, Lean reportedly exclaimed "The boy is Lawrence!" Sam Spiegel, remembering his past encounter with O'Toole, told Lean "he's no good." But lacking alternatives, Spiegel bought O'Toole out of his RSC contract and a film star was born.
O'Toole spent two nightmarish years filming Lawrence. O'Toole had to film in the deserts of Jordan, Spain and Morocco, learn to ride a camel and tolerate Lean's demanding direction. He struggled to control his drinking: Alec Guinness recounted that O'Toole became drunk in Seville and threw a drink in the face of a local dignitary. Filming a battle scene, he fell off his camel and was nearly trampled to death. "By the time Lawrence wrapped," Robert Sellers writes, O'Toole "received third degree burns, sprained both ankles, torn ligaments... dislocated his spine, broken his thumb, sprained his neck and been concussed twice."
O'Toole was also daunted working opposite so many seasoned actors. Years later, he likened the experience to "a bull fight...every few minutes they opened the trap and out popped another bull: [Jack] Hawkins...[Claude] Rains...[Alec] Guinness...[Jose] Ferrer...[Anthony] Quinn...[Arthur] Kennedy...[Anthony] Quayle." He nonetheless bonded with Omar Sharif, whom he nicknamed "Fred" on the grounds that "no one in the world is called Omar Sharif." The two spent off-hours partying in Beirut, forging a lifelong friendship.
For Lawrence's first scene in Arab costume, Lean advised O'Toole to improvise his reaction. O'Toole drew his dagger, pondering his reflection in its blade. This small moment reveals so much about Lawrence's character: his vanity, conscious role-playing, childish disbelief that he's become a real-life G.A. Henty hero. Lean echoed this moment in the final massacre scene, as Lawrence ponders the now-blood-soaked blade, horrified at what he's become. It's a small but telling moment that registers almost subliminally.
O'Toole's genius registers in a hundred similar moments. His boyish glee as the Arabs depart for Aqaba. The quavering tone of voice as he describes how he "enjoyed" executing Gassim. His mincing, effeminate walk when approaching British officers in Jerusalem. His orgasmic trembling as Lawrence ponders unleashing the final massacre. His vacant glare through the final scenes, watching his allies dissolve into chaos. True, Bolt wrote great dialogue, Lean and his technicians crafted visual cues of Lawrence's dissolution. But all that would make no difference if O'Toole was less than perfect.
O'Toole won critical acclaim, his first Oscar nomination (losing to Gregory Peck for To Kill a Mockingbird) and became an overnight superstar. He also gained his reputation as an intellectual hellraiser, witty, sexy, smart as a whip but rowdy and uncontrollable. He turned up drunk for television interviews, and was arrested in New York with Sharif and comedian Lenny Bruce. This proved a curtain raiser for a career of hell-raising, O'Toole matching drinks with Richard Burton, Richard Harris, Oliver Reed and others.
Becket (1963) showed Lawrence wasn't a fluke. O'Toole had originally been asked to star in Jean Anouilh's play onstage, but backed out due to Lawrence. Peter Glenville gave the newly minted a star chance to play Henry II onscreen. O'Toole admitted he was much more comfortable here, acting alongside his friend Richard Burton, wife Sian Phillips and mentors Donald Wolfit and Felix Aylmer. Easy work compared to Lawrence's endurance test, and more fun too.
Becket is not only a "stagier" movie (as a play adaptation, how could it not be?) but a stagier performance by O'Toole. He indulges in rampant scenery-chewing, with little of Lawrence's tortured introspection. This isn't a criticism, as Henry is an outsized character requiring a theatrical performance. O'Toole's fun to watch as a childish king giddy in his absolute power, but Burton gets the more complex part - and gives the more satisfying performance.
If Lawrence and Becket established O'Toole as a formidable actor, What's New Pussycat (1965) and How to Steal a Million (1966) gave him a more audience-friendly pop image. He's no longer a distant historical personage but a hip, swinging sex symbol. I'm especially fond of Million, a cheerful, witty caper pairing O'Toole with the adorable Audrey Hepburn. Neither marks O'Toole's best work, but as breezy star vehicles they hold up well.
O'Toole returned regularly to the stage. In 1963 he played Hamlet again, directed by Laurence Olivier at the National Theatre. O'Toole found the part overwhelming: "If you want to know what it's like to be lonely... try playing Hamlet." Reviews were split between critics who found him brilliant ("A magnificent prince." - R.B. Marriott) and execrable ("The Prince's blondness and his curiously comic trousers are disconcerting." - The Times). A production of Bertolt Brecht's Baal proved an unmitigated disaster. O'Toole had a happier experience in Irish theater, performing successfully in Man and Superman, Juno and the Paycock and Waiting for Godot.
Not every O'Toole role from this period is a gem. Lord Jim (1965) is an unfocused mess, with O'Toole's intense but rudderless performance playing a major role in its dissolution. (It doesn't help that, as Pauline Kael observed, "he already played Lord Jim when he did Lawrence of Arabia.") He fares better in the bloated The Night of the Generals (1967), investing a murderous SS General with palpable menace. His cameos in The Bible (1966) and Casino Royale (1967) accrue him little credit. And The Great Catherine (1968) is known, if at all, for turning up in My Favorite Year.
O'Toole capped a busy decade with two further Oscar nominations. Goodbye Mr. Chips (1969) is his least deserving nomination: O'Toole does well in an uncharacteristically reserved performance, but the movie itself is overlong and dull. That leaves Anthony Harvey's The Lion in Winter (1968).
O'Toole often cited Lion as his favorite film. It gave him a chance to work opposite Katharine Hepburn, a friend since his theater days. The chance to reprise Henry II, older and wearier if not necessarily wiser, was an added incentive. Even if he hadn't played Henry previously, it's a role that unquestionably plays to his strengths. He's larger-than-life yet thoughtful, a great man forced to confront his unglamorous legacy.
I don't share the general enthusiasm for Lion, despite several viewings and reading the play. James Goldman's overripe dialogue eventually overwhelms the story. For every clever witticism, there's a gilded clunker of a line ("You're a stinker and you stink!") or annoying anachronism ("It's 1183 and we're barbarians!") After a well-crafted first hour, the show descends into convoluted chaos, events piling up rather than building on each other, characters losing drive or motivation.
O'Toole is unquestionably the best thing about Lion. He retains a pretense of virility with swordplay and womanizing, but it's evident that Henry's running on will and reputation. O'Toole excels showing the King's haughty exterior; he's grown smart (or cynical) enough to outwit most everybody, intimidating through reputation alone. But Henry deflates over the story, increasingly feeble in his denunciations, tormented by Eleanor's proclamations of infidelity and constant filial backstabbing. His ultimate failure is that, for all he's achieved, England will either fall to an unfit ruler or dissolve into chaos at his death. No wonder he and Eleanor want to live forever.
And so we leave Peter O'Toole at the pinnacle of his career: four Oscar nominations in eight years, an impressive filmography and respectable body of stage work. Parts Two and Three are already mostly written, for those with the patience to endure a series of posts.
Continue to Parts Two and Three
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