In the post-Pulp Fiction era, well-produced American independent films often bear little connection to life. They’re more likely to be about other movies, or the writer’s long childhood watching sitcoms, or how badly the director wants to get more directing work–maybe an action movie, or a Pepsi commercial, which, in the Michael Bay-Simon West era, amounts to the same thing.
What a pleasure it is to see two new American independents that go against the trend, drawing on life while still managing to stand as well-made, involving movies. Both Smiling Fish and Goat on Fire and God’s Army were made on shoestring budgets in Los Angeles by filmmakers nobody has heard of (yet). Their tone and subject matter are quite different (Smiling Fish is about twentysomething brothers with woman trouble; God’s Army follows young Mormon missionaries doing the Lord’s work in Hollywood), yet the movies share a modest, grounded, slightly lyrical attitude. They draw on life–specifically the lives of the filmmakers–but feel like honest-to-goodness feature films, not glorified home movies or tv pilots. And despite the personal nature of both projects, the results don’t feel private and narcissistic. The strong filmmaking and acting draw you in; the stories serve up fresh, often lovely images and unusual emotions.
The title Smiling Fish and Goat on Fire is a mistake; the phrase refers to nicknames the heroes’ Native American grandmother gave them as children, but this explanation doesn’t erase the suspicion that the filmmakers were desperate for a title that would force casual moviegoers to ask, "What the hell is that about?" Get past the cute-absurd moniker and you’re looking at a consistently pleasing debut from director Kevin Jordan and coscreenwriters Steve and Derick Martini, who play brothers Tony and Chris Remi. These guys will be familiar to fans of early Scorsese and Barry Levinson (think Diner). Chris, the more responsible and tightly wound brother, is a white-collar accountant. He’s in a rocky, six-years-and-counting relationship with a young woman who has become increasingly withdrawn; she cries every time they have sex and refuses to say why. Tony is a sweetly rakish actor who spends a lot of his time laying around the house–often in the company of beautiful women who can’t resist his roguish man-child vibe.
Just when the Remi brothers fear they’ve settled into a permanent bachelor groove, their lives are complicated by new career possibilities and new chances at love. Chris’ boss has just hired his widowed old uncle (actor and jazz musician Bill Henderson) to do time-killing work at the accounting firm, and Chris is charged with driving the gnomish old raconteur to and from the office each day. A cross-generational, interracial friendship develops. At the same time, Chris, who’s on the outs with his girlfriend, meets a lovely woman from Italy (Rosemarie Addeo) who works as an animal wrangler on film sets, and falls head-over-heels in love with her. Meanwhile, Tony, who never met a commitment he couldn’t evade, starts hanging out with a single stage mom (Christa Miller) with a charmingly precocious young daughter (Nicole Ray). Both brothers are pulled toward the same ideals of romantic love that they once viewed with deep suspicion.
Jordan and the Martini brothers (sounds like a comedy team from 1940s radio) aren’t trying to reinvent the indie film wheel here. They just want to make a low-budget romantic comedy that, in its own lighthearted way, gets at real anxieties and concerns. The film looks great and moves well, and the performances are consistently surprising. Though the characters and situations seem familiar, the dialogue and the actors’ deliveries keep you pleasantly off-balance. I was especially fond of Miller, who makes her character decent and kind yet also sexy and distinct; Steven Martini, whose slightly dreamy grin suggests Mickey Rourke in his Diner period; and, best of all, Henderson, whose alternately jaunty and mysterious presence elevates him way beyond the Yoda of Love stereotype that African-American character actors are often stuck with. The writing helps: the Martinis have given Henderson’s character real depth and complexity, going into great detail about his charmed marriage, his pain over the death of his wife and his early days in Hollywood as a soundman who worked on a number of all-black low-budget productions.
Though the cast is comprised mostly of young, good-looking white Americans, Jordan and the Martinis (sounds like a cocktail lounge ensemble) place their experiences within a multicultural Los Angeles whose denizens are united by their childlike fascination with Hollywood’s dream machine and their sadness at being slowly ground up in its slow-moving gears. The small setpieces have the ring of authenticity: rugby games in public parks, parties that mix romantic and professional opportunity, auditions that mingle forced optimism with abiding fear of rejection.
The smallness of the film puts the moviemakers at risk, though. Because they don’t try anything too showy, Smiling Fish and Goat on Fire is likely to be dismissed as another cute, harmless calling-card production. Already some reviewers have written it off as a minor pleasure of the festival circuit and nothing more, without properly acknowledging its surefooted style and surprisingly relevant depiction of post-boomer dating attitudes. In his New York Times review, Dave Kehr calls the film "a study in delayed development, in which helpless, childlike men in their late 20s are rescued and redeemed by domineering, motherly women. As romantic fantasies go, it’s hard to imagine anything more regressive." That’s not the movie I saw, and I suspect it’s not the movie most post-boomer audiences will see either. When I looked at the Remis and their girlfriends, I didn’t see hapless man-boys rescued by surrogate mommies (by the way, in what universe could this film’s rational, sexually confident, thoroughly charming women be considered "domineering"?), I saw wary, life-scarred single people of both genders falling in love, then making conscious decisions to pursue committed long-term relationships. These characters come from a generation raised in single-parent households and are keenly aware of the fact that both love and marriage are things that must be built and maintained rather than discovered and claimed. The filmmakers take the characters’ feelings and experiences–and the audience’s feelings and experiences–for granted, using them as background material rather than some sort of thesis statement. It’s a casual, comic approach to what is, after all, a pretty serious topic, and I appreciated the low-key way of teasing it out. The dismissive reviews don’t worry me, though: I think post-boomer audiences will instinctively grasp what critics aren’t interested in seeing.
Much more impressive is God’s Army, filmmaker Richard Dutcher’s feature about a group of young missionaries for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Like Smiling Fish and Goat on Fire, it takes a familiar dramatic template–the master-and-apprentice story–and embroiders it with emotions, situations and even thematic issues rarely addressed by any American movie, much less the typical Sundance-baiting indie. I’ve often complained to friends that American films routinely neglect two of the most fertile patches of dramatic soil: work and religion. God’s Army merges the two, in a film that mixes a documentary’s anthropological detail with an elegant, austere but never dry style. Dutcher, a Mormon and a graduate of Brigham Young University, takes faith seriously–all faith, not just Mormon faith. But he also acknowledges the validity of skepticism and doubt. Then he goes a step further, placing the film in the same position as its missionary heroes: in a fallen, secular world that’s continually giving people fresh reasons not to believe in God, how can God’s army make religion seem both reasonable and attractive?
It’s a tough job. And at first glance, the film’s hero, Elder Allen (Matthew Brown), looks like he’s not cut out for it. He arrives on a Greyhound bus from Kansas, fleeing a deeply dysfunctional family (the exact nature of the dysfunction is withheld until much later). Though raised a Mormon by his stepfather, Allen seems neither devoted to the church nor willing to research and understand its teachings.
Fortunately, his mentor, Elder Dalton (strikingly well-played by the filmmaker himself), is patient, insightful and surprisingly hip. He’s trained quite a few missionaries in his short life (he’s 29 and looks older), and he tailors his teaching strategy and his speaking style to suit each student’s individual needs.
The other elders living in the house with Allen and Dalton are unexpectedly diverse, both ethnically and in terms of personality. The African-American Banks (DeSean Terry) struggles to reconcile his own devotion to the church with the skepticism of the black non-Mormons he hopes to convert; they point out to Banks–accurately–that it took the church a long time to ordain black ministers, and Banks has no good explanation for why this shouldn’t be considered a sore point. Another elder, the smart and somewhat smart-alecky Kinegar (Michael Buster), is spending a lot of time reading literature that criticizes Mormon history and practice, which causes tension in the house.
The city of Los Angeles creates its own kind of tension. The film frankly details the difficulty of old fashioned, house-by-house missionary work in a time when urban residents think every knock on the door could signal the arrival of scam artists, robbers or cops. During routine walks near their house, Dalton and Allen are playfully approached by a couple of streetwalkers, and to the filmmaker’s credit, these scenes aren’t just played for cheap laughs–fallen women vs. modern monks. Dutcher, like his onscreen character, sees every non-Mormon as a potential convert, but understands the reasons why they’d either reject organized religion or go through their entire adult lives without giving God and faith any serious consideration. One of the finest scenes in the film has Dalton learning that one of the prostitutes not only read the Book of Mormon he gave her, but can describe her favorite section and haltingly express why it moved her. A similarly impressive scene has a Mexican-American father patiently telling Allen and Dalton that he can’t permit his teenage daughter to convert because the family is Catholic and has always been Catholic. That such a scene would exist in an American film is rare enough; that Dutcher would insist on respecting the father’s faith–and insist that we do the same–is close to miraculous.
One man's faith is another man's doubt, but there isn't a whole lot of room for much of the latter in this movie about Mormon missionaries working the Sodom that is modern-day Los Angeles.
While writer/director/star Richard Dutcher would probably argue the point, God's Army is a movie that effectively preaches to the converted. The rest of us might have some difficulties with the film's underpinnings.
Regardless, Dutcher has made an accomplished film here. It's slick, well-written and has a cast of appealing and likable unknowns who are also clearly on-side with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Many of us almost grudgingly admire people who have this sort of faith. It's just that we wish they weren't quite so darn certain about everything. After all, with certainty comes superiority, and that's a very close cousin to being irritatingly sanctimonious.
The film begins with the arrival in L.A. of 19-year-old Brandon Allen (Matthew Brown) from Kansas. Known as Elder Allen, he's dressed in the regulation uniform: white shirt, black suit, neat tie, polished shoes. And he's assigned to work with the eldest member of the mission, an intense 29-year-old named Elder Dalton (Dutcher).
The movie gives us a glimpse of missionary life. There are high-jinks and pranks in the mission house; some sophomoric joking that's squeaky clean. Naturally, there is no booze, no cigarettes, no Starbucks and no sex.
There are dollops of melodrama when one of the missionaries falls ill and a scene of faith healing that called for more of a suspension of disbelief than I was willing to surrender. You'll also have to bring your own sense of irony to this film; there isn't any that's built in.
Furthermore, the film expects its viewers to be aware of some of the tenets of the church. For example, I was unaware that a post-Resurrection Jesus actually spent some time in the Americas, although apparently it's so according to the Mormons.
And Dutcher avoids at least one contentious question. There is no mention of the church's historical acceptance of polygamy or the fact that founder Joseph Smith was rumoured to have had as many as 50 wives.
He does, however, address the issue of black priests in the church. Until relatively recently blacks weren't allowed in the Mormon priesthood and the only black missionary in the film is given the job of trying to explain it away.
Using a kind of sophistry that seems awkward and convoluted, the responsibility for the ban is placed squarely at God's feet because it is through His authority that priests are anointed.
Huh?
Does that mean that once upon a time God was a racist? Or, even more disquieting, that God can actually change His mind?
Personally, it would take a Jesuit to convince me of that.
You know summer is over when new releases are mostly art films and special interest pictures. But movie buffs can have a field day watching movies they might otherwise skip if a new blockbuster was in town.
One new film is about a religious team but doesn't proselytize. Another is about animal life. A third is about four old geezers who think they've outlasted their usefulness.
All three are about the need for teamwork to survive, but they go about it in different ways.
"God's Army" shows young Mormons fulfilling their obligation to do missionary work. They face rejection when knocking on doors, and it tests their convictions. The dialogue is full of cliches and the acting is unpolished, but it has more class than quasi-religious pictures such as "Bless the Child."
When the leader questions a new missionary about his faith in himself, everyone who's had to pull himself up by his bootstraps will identify with the recruit regardless of race, creed, color, religion or gender.
"God's Army" isn't as flashy as "The 10 Commandments" but tells a similar story about the necessity of teamwork to reach goals. You don't have to be a Mormon to understand and appreciate this PG movie that's worth three stars.
The nature film is "Africa's Elephant Kingdom" at the IMAX. It opens with a wide-angle look at the beauty of Africa, then zeroes in on elephants walking across the plains.
You see two elephants embrace to show affection (they look like they're kissing!) and others visit burial grounds where they remember loved ones much like human beings do.
A cub testily takes its first steps; a mother defends her young; males initiate mating rituals and fight to protect their families. They find food, travel the safest routes and establish secure homes just like humans, and they survive because they know the value of teamwork. "Africa's Elephant Kingdom" is unrated but comparable to PG and worth three stars.
Most mass appeal films lack the no-nonsense emotions of "God's Army" and "Africa's Elephant Kingdom" so they tend to look alike. But another new release is different by virtue of the cast.
Old-timers Burt Reynolds, Richard Dreyfuss, Dan Hedaya and Seymour Cassel make up "The Crew" at a Miami rest home where the manager decides to renovate to get higher rent. "The Crew" can't afford it so they "stage" a murder to stall things. There are complications because the "deceased" turns out to be a mob boss, and his henchmen want revenge. A stripper gets involved. So do the cops.
"The Crew" is threatened but survive because of teamwork.
It has good acting, clever scripting and enough sex and violence to fit the format of today's mainstream movies. It also makes good use of actors who aren't seen much any more. But who would have thought it would take four to do the job Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon did so often as a two-man team?
"The Crew" doesn't touch nerves like "God's Army" and "Africa's Elephant Kingdom," but gets 2 1/2 stars for personality. Rated PG-13 for language.
'God's Army'
*** [3 out of 4]
'Africa's Elephant Kingdom'
*** [3 out of 4]
'The Crew'
** 1/2 [2 1/2 out of 4]
God's Army is a low-cost, appealing independent production that unapologetically targets the nearly 5 million American members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, otherwise known as Mormons.
It is an example of how a little creativity and sensitive writing can make a niche movie attractive to those beyond its target audience.
God's Army is the brainchild of Richard Dutcher, an experienced filmmaker, who wrote, produced, directed and starred in a movie sure to leave Mormon audiences teary-eyed and standing tall. Non-Mormons may not be as emotionally pumped but can enjoy an entertaining, interesting movie.
Dutcher, a former missionary to Mexico, knows well that the appearance of Mormon missionaries automatically deploys the Faith Defense Deflector Shields of non-Mormons. He shows an irreverent wit with humorous scenes of residents using clever and not-so-clever ploys to shoo the missionaries away from the door.
God's Army focuses on the adventures of a hearty band of white-shirted, tie-bedecked young male missionaries spreading the church's message in the less-than-welcoming streets of Los Angeles. The action centers primarily on 19-year-old Brandon Allen (Matthew Brown) and his mentor, Marcus Dalton (Dutcher).
Dutcher nicely portrays the mission band as serious but just as genuinely human. They are not beyond frat-style pranks and jokes. Underneath the white shirts are hearts sometimes torn by self-doubt, and even doubts about the authenticity of their faith.
A resident skeptic, Kinegar (Michael Buster) brings up questions about the founding of the church by prophet Joseph Smith.
The drama in God's Army is driven by the moral struggles of good people in a messy, indifferent, sometimes hostile world.
The highpoints are the low-key scenes where imperfect souls are laid bare. It is Allen poignantly explaining how his sometimes troubled faith was instilled by a stepfather now imprisoned for sex crimes. Dalton tells of his father's disappointment when he withdrew from medical school to become a missionary.
While Dutcher effectively creates a scene, he sometimes falters in blending the scenes for the coherence and drama of a movie. There are too many one-dimensional characters floating in and out, blurring the storyline.
The best of the no-name cast is Jacque Gray in the role of Allen's love interest. While she shines in her few scenes, she is suddenly and inexplicably sent to another mission. Perhaps Dutcher is emphasizing that not even love interferes with missions. But in Hollywood, you keep the strong actors in front of the camera as long as possible.
The over-long ending is saccharine and replete with a "miracle." But it will be satisfying to most viewers.
Considering that Dutcher filmed the movie in 18 days on a $500,000 budget, God's Army is a minor cinematic miracle in itself.
**** [4 out of 5 stars] (Audio: B+, Video: A-, Features: A)
Audio commentary by director/writer Richard Dutcher, outtakes, Greg Simpson music video, DVD-ROM screen saver.
Audio commentary by director/writer Richard Dutcher, outtakes, Greg Simpson music video, DVD-ROM screen saver.
One of the great independent triumphs of 2000, "God's Army" is a milestone achievement on several fronts -- a the first film to deal with Mormon culture and experience in a mainstream fashion, as well as the first fully independently financed, produced, distributed and exhibited film ever to achieve major box office success.
Written by, directed by, produced by and co-starring Richard Dutcher, "God's Army" tells the story of a young Mormon missionary's experiences while serving in the Hollywood area, including coping with a stalwart companion (Dutcher) and facing a level of rejection from people that seems almost masochistic. Through it all, however, Dutcher offers a picture of devotion and faith that is as touching and life-affirming as anything in recent memory, a movie of which all people of faith, Mormon or otherwise, may be proud. It is also an illuminating film as far as Mormon culture is concerned, presenting the faith and its adherents in a manner that non-Mormons will find to be fair, honest, inoffensive and straightforward.
Dutcher's commentary is likewise excellent, a guided tour of his incredibly difficult road to success, from financing to exhibition. While he makes no secret of his biases or intentions, it's hard to take exception with anything that Dutcher says as he shares trials and hardships that seem more universal to all independent filmmakers than not. Supplementing Dutcher's commentary are two minutes of outtakes -- not a substantial portion, but enough to give viewers a dash of levity and a good dose of what it was like making the film between the cracks.
Other bonuses include a music video for the featured Greg Simpson song, "Look to the Heavens," a theatrical trailer for "God's Army" and a preview trailer for Dutcher's next film, "Brigham City," starring Wilford Brimley. --By Wade Major
Collector Rating: WORTH FULL PRICE
LDS Cinema marches on, again.
A genre that scarcely existed two years ago, when Richard Dutcher's "God's Army" hit Utah screens and spread across the country, now is popping up everywhere.
Two more LDS-themed movies arrive in Utah in the next month: the romance "Charly" on Friday and the pioneer drama "Handcart: The Movie" on Oct. 11. The current issue of Newsweek has a short item, headlined "Mormons: They're a Laugh Riot," that mentions how the success of "The Singles Ward" has spawned eight more LDS-themed comedies -- including Nathan Smith Jones' in-the-works mockumentary of the genre, "The Work and the Story," which (if the film's Web site is not itself a spoof) also stars Dutcher.
It sometimes seems as if everybody who ever took a film course at BYU or the University of Utah saw "God's Army," said to themselves, "Hey, my buddies and I can do that!", grabbed their camcorders and hit the town.
But in the evolution of any movie niche -- whether it's African-American films, Latino films, gay films or LDS cinema -- there comes a crucial point where "we're making a movie about us!" doesn't cut it anymore. The novelty has worn off, and audiences who flocked to "God's Army" and "The Other Side of Heaven" will start expecting more.
LDS filmmakers will have to learn to grow on the job. Here is a little unsolicited advice, in 10 easy steps:
Step 1: Broaden your horizons. Stories that speak only to the faithful will get you an audience of a certain size, but no more. If you put LDS characters within universal stories, the LDS audience will stay -- and non-Mormons won't feel alienated, and they may even learn a few things about an unfamiliar culture.
Step 2: Take your time. The best thing you can do for your movie is to rewrite the script a few times, polish it until it gleams. Here's the beauty part: Rethinking your script, if you do it before you start production, doesn't cost you a dime.
Step 3: Think digitally. If you have a limited budget (and everybody who ever made a movie had a limited budget), the new high-tech cameras may help you spend it more wisely. Think about this: If the bulk of your revenue will come from video sales, and digital-to-film transfers are cheap, why spend a lot of money on pricey 35mm film?
Step 4: Think cinematically. On the other hand, if you're shooting in the South Pacific (like "The Other Side of Heaven") or a historic epic (like Dutcher's in-the-works Joseph Smith biopic), only film will do.
Step 5: Hire real actors. So your roommate at BYU acted in the Mormon Miracle Pageant in Manti -- big deal. There are plenty of people in Utah (and, for that matter, out of Utah) who carry both a SAG card and a temple recommend in their wallets. Hire them.
Step 6: Assemble a professional crew. Alas, some LDS-themed movies I have seen were missing that certain something -- like a focus puller or a decent sound mix. Utah film crews are among the best in the country, as the Utah Film Commission likes to remind us. Try shooting your movie in May or June, when the productions of "Touched by an Angel" and (if they make it through a full season) "Everwood" go on summer hiatus. Those guys are good and often looking for work during the break.
Step 7: Know your core market. The "Out of Step" folks made a good movie, then released it in mid-February at one Salt Lake-area theater -- when most of the target audience was paying attention to the Olympics. It was a hard lesson, but they learned it well, re-releasing their movie last month at several theaters.
Step 8: Listen to the local critics. We are your first impartial audience and will provide the first honest appraisal your movie will get. We know the culture you are depicting, so we can tell you how well it may translate to a mass audience. Don't just blow us off and say, "Oh, they don't get it" -- believe me, we get it.
Step 9: Listen to the national critics. Movie critics (the ones who aspire to be good ones, anyway) do not trash movies just to see how clever and cruel they can be. We do it because we want the movies to be better.
Step 10: Don't try to make the best LDS movie. Just try to make the best movie. The rest will sort itself out.
Jeff Simpson, president of the small but flourishing film and music distributor Excel, knows the best way to cross over to a broad audience is to first serve -- extremely well -- a niche audience.
Excel, which began its foray into film distribution in 2000, found broad audience appeal for its independent films Brigham City and God's Army that were about, and targeted to a Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints audience.
"There's a misconception that to cross over with a niche film, you have to gener-ify it," says Simpson, speaking from his offices in the International Center a few miles west of downtown Salt Lake City. "The truth is, a story has to go even deeper into a culture to make in universal."
It's a philosophy that seems to be working for Excel.
The entertainment weekly Variety recently rated Excel among the nation's top 10 limited-release -- or "niche" -- film distributors. Niche distributors deal in films playing in less than 600 markets nationwide.
Miramax topped the list with nearly 34 percent of the niche market. But eighth on the list -- just behind Sony Classics and ahead of Fine Line -- was Simpson's Excel, which had grossed $8 million on its films.
The company entered the market two years ago with the God's Army, which followed the lives of a group of LDS missionaries. Excel followed with an even bigger crossover success in the murder mystery Brigham City.
Excel also found a nationwide audience for The Other Side of Heaven which has grossed over $4.4 million.
Excel's newest crossover bid is a love story, Charly, opening this month in Utah and southeastern Idaho. Based on the novel by Jack Weyland, non-Mormon free spirit Charly collides with Sam, a self-satisfied, goal-setting believer. Cultural differences and family attitudes threatened to destroy their love.
It's definitely an LDS niche film, but if you take the word "Mormon" out of a script like Charly, replace it with "Jewish," "Catholic," "Italian" or even "Greek" -- you've got standard Hollywood fare -- not a limited-release cultural-ethnic film. Moonstruck (Italian Catholics), Crossing Delancy (New York Jews), or My Big Fat Greek Wedding were never considered niche films.
But it is only recently that the human condition has been examined through the eyes of Mormon filmmakers.
"LDS people see our films as a mirror," Simpson says of his products. "But they are also a window into the LDS culture."
Perhaps another sign of crossover success is criticism from the originating niche group itself. Excel has gotten complaints for opening the LDS window a little too wide. For instance, some Mormons squirmed at scenes of the church's sacraments being shown in Brigham City.
"The LDS culture is still nervous about how it is portrayed to the outside world," Simpson says. "There have been so many unfair caricatures over the years."
But he says the artists at Excel understand their market and as for crossover, "The best is yet to come."
"The real limitation is: How good are we at making movies and writing stories?" Simpson says. "They can have all the attributes of the religion, but they have to be stories well told. The passion of the story is where your limits lie."
BEST CINEMATIC TREND FOR SAINTS
Mormon Multiplex Movies
Temple Square isn't the only place to catch movies with that special Mormon flavor any more. Following the success of Richard Dutcher's God's Army and Brigham City, LDS filmmakers went wild in late 2001 and early 2002 with independently-distributed efforts. Suddenly, you couldn't swing a jumbo popcorn without hitting a "Mormon movie" -- The Other Side of Heaven, The Singles Ward, Out of Step. If you can't beat secular pop culture, join it on your own terms.
As members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Mormons are building a culture that reflects their gospel convictions. They don't drink alcohol or coffee, they refrain from cigarette use, and they generally don't spend money on Sundays. Their males flaunt mostly clean-shaven faces, most of their women don't wear mini-skirts or sleeveless tank-tops, and a good portion of them give up 18 months to two years off preaching somewhere, often in foreign tongues.
In recent years, however, it may be observed that Mormonism has become increasingly commercialized. Their gospel has been pulled from its hallowed place on the Pedestal of Inviolability and placed in assorted shapes and sizes in bookstores, cd shops, and on Web sites.
Ever seen the t-shirts that take a Nike swoop and turn it into Moroni blowing his trumpet? Or heard Jericho Road wail out their squeaky cleanness against a backdrop of LDS themes? How about the little Book of Mormon action figures (of which Nephi seems to be the favorite)? Then there's "Charly", "Handcart", "God's Army", "Brigham City", "The Other Side of Heaven", and the soon-to-be-released remake of Johnny Lingo. View Photos of LDS Singles at ldsmingle.com, or name your Utah baby at geocities.com/Heartland/3450/, or adopt a curelom at mormonzone.com.
There's Mormon fiction (e.g. The Work and the Glory), Mormon music (i.e. Julie de Azevedo), Mormon movies (ex. Singles Ward), Mormon art (see Greg Olsen), and Mormon software (re: 'LDS Temples' screensaver).
There are entire stores devoted solely to Mormon missionary products.
Latter-day Saints enjoy CTR rings, Young Women's values bracelets, Child of God lockets, Nauvoo Sun charms, necklaces, key rings, and dog tags.
You name it, the Mormons make it.
Church history buff? Try the Kirtland Temple Interactive CD-ROM.
Want to spice up a handout for Sunday school? No problem -- sample one of the almost sixty LDS clipart programs at Deseret Book.
Looking for ways to find an eternal mate? There are almost 140 Mormon romance titles available online.
But in the middle of this LDS shopper's dream, one must face the question: when is it going too far?
How about when it is shocking to discover that a member of the Church, baptized at age 8, never (don't say it!) owned (please, no!) a CTR (stop, stop!) ring (gasp!)?
Or when someone has never heard of Gerald Lund and people say, Seriously? No way!
Or when people put off regular scripture study because they're reading other "church books" (i.e. The Porter Rockwell Chronicles)?
The moment Latter-day Saints begin to equate church membership or standing or doctrine with Mormon products is the moment the gospel has become lost behind a pile of CDs, cassettes, posters, books, jewelry, t-shirts, and Nephite action figures.
For the most part, Mormon commercialization is okay. Indeed, it is part of creating a culture.
But the most important part of that culture -- namely, the pure and simple gospel of Jesus Christ -- must never lose its front and center place.
I would be the first to admit I know hardly anything about Mormons (I have watched Orgazmo-does that count?), and so it was with an open mind that I went to see the film God's Army.
God's Army tells the story of Elder Allen (Mathew Brown), a not-so-bright-kid from Kansas with father issues (abandoned by his biological dad, whilst his step-dad turned out to be a pedophile). At the outset, Allen lacks the strength, courage and faith required of a Mormon Missionary. His faith is put to further test as he walks through the wicked streets of Los Angeles, a modern day Sodom. In a moment of spiritual crisis, Allen asks GOD to show him the way, and presto! Allen achieves enlightenment and comes to realize that everything in the Book of Mormon is TRUE.
Armed with his new faith, Elder Allen embarks on mission to "do some good," and redeems the wicked and heals the lame. God's Army was immensely disappointing. The director shows restraint for the first hour, and although everything feels vaguely wrong, I was almost duped into thinking he was taking an objective approach. With half an hour to go, the gloves come off and the movie sinks into a swirling abyss of heavy-handed religious rhetoric.
I writhed in agony for the last half-hour, shaking my head in lament, moaning in tongues. With God's Army, writer/director/produced/co-star Richard Dutcher sought to make a film for a Mormon audience. Given their distaste for drugs, dirty-sex, alcohol, violence, Scientologists, etc., and considering that these elements are the cornerstones of current Hollywood productions, it is no wonder Dutcher has taken it upon himself to make films for this growing demographic. I have nothing against Mormons making movies; with the perpetual narrowing of viewpoints offered in feature film, new voices are always welcome. But if Mormons are going to make movies, they could at least make interesting ones, or ones that do not include such a staggering array of racial stereotypes (an aggressive black militant feminist, a crippled Taiwanese youth, a coffee-swilling redneck, a Chicano prostitute).
I also found it kind of creepy that all non-Mormons were pictured as unclean, and were portrayed by actors who weren't nearly as pretty or symmetrically featured as the mostly-Aryan cast of Latter-Day Saints. (note: Dutcher does include two non-Aryans, a feisty Hispanic and an African-American, among the central cast, but come on, it's a bit obvious, if you know what I mean.)
Mormons are human, and despite their moral high ground, they should be judged by the same lax standards as the rest of mankind. They are entitled to their beliefs, and I am not here to criticize their doctrine. The movie is not an in-depth exploration of the Mormon faith; it is an attempt to chronicle the missionary experience. God's Army is propaganda of the lowest order, and an example of poor-filmmaking. It is destined to live a short life on the silver screen, but it will inevitably make many an appearance as an after-school special in Salt Lake City.
[EXCERPTS]
Lee Benson hated Charly.
Charly is a movie, based on the book by Jack Weyland.
Benson is a columnist for the Deseret News.
"Richard Dutcher opened the floodgates with God's Army. Then came Brigham City and Mitch Davis' The Other Side of Heaven... you knew it would eventually come to this. You knew they would get around to making the Mormon pop culture book Charly into a movie. It gets worse. They didn't change the book." [1]Lee Benson's merciless Charly bash almost persuaded me to miss the movie. I'm glad I didn't.
From a really wonderful web site, ldsfilm.com... comes an almost shocking list of "Mormon movies" announced, in production, promised or being created in the most fanciful of day-dreams kept afloat by nothing but faith. Here is what Mormon movie goers can look for in near future -- presuming of course they get funded, finished and finely made.
[16 upcoming films are listed.]
Richard Dutcher. What have you started?
...Movies cost money. To make movies that will break out of the Mormon market in any significant way will take a LOT of money. In a free society, money ultimately is a great equalizer. For now the reported profits from God's Army, a sense of cultural identity and the irrational sense of "cause" may sustain the burgeoning flush of films that find fans on the Wasatch Front.
Sophisticated investors have quoted the results of God's Army as the reason to invest. Million plus profits on a film that cost $300,000 have fueled the boom and helped imitators find the cash. Some investors have confided to me that they have invested without expectation of profit because they "believe in the cause." They only do it once.
I am tempted to write an article entitled "How to Invest in Mormon Movies" to augment the inevitable sifting out of bad projects that must inevitably take place. High-net-worth Mormons with discretionary capital are beginning to feel besieged.
There is a huge chasm between where the fascinating new world of Mormon Cinema now stands and where everyone involved would like it to go. Filmmakers desperately want to "break out" and "break through". Even Dutcher's films -- among the best of the "less than a million" movies -- have had a difficult time attracting paying patrons beyond the membership of the LDS church.
In his prophetic vision of a Mormon movie masterpiece playing in movie centers around the globe, President Kimball added this qualification; "our motion picture specialists must be purified by the best critics."
He is right of course. I therefore and hereby grant to Mr. Lee Benson his right and important role as an "official Kimball critic in the evolution of Mormon Cinema".
In the end we cannot compromise. LDS filmmakers who wish to tell the story of Mormonism must become excellent by every standard. They must compete head to head with the finest films being made. They must get SO good that Lee Benson will stand up and cheer.
The wave of films in development, production and day dreams is the essential first step to ultimate achievement. If for no other reason this is sufficient ground to champion a movie like Charly.
After bashing Charly, Benson lamented:
"What's next? Johnny Lingo in its expanded, big-screen version? Will they move The Testaments to the 16-plex? Will Mr. Krueger's Christmas be coming soon to a theater near you?"
[More.]