Thoughts on violence and empathy in Marvel's The Punisher

I initially set out just to review a television series; what ended up happening was a lot broader than I could have imagined. I still don't have any firm answers, but much of what facilitated my curiosity in how the violence was used in this show stemmed at least in part from how I have reacted positively to what I considered to be personally relevant (fictional) violence in the past--the primal rage that guided the actions of Kill Bill's Beatrix Kiddo. When each of my children was born, I felt such a fierce, protective love for them that I completely understood the idea that a mother could react with violence at someone's harming her kids; even though I don't think I would be able to hurt someone who hurt my child, I think it would occur to me to do so and thus I found Tarantino's acknowledgement of it validating. Over the top and again, acknowledged through fiction, but validating. I don't know if this series can achieve the same kind of validation for those who may find it personally relevant, and I don't think I could, in good faith, ask someone who might find it personally relevant to watch it. 

In any case, I suppose if Ebert can review The Human Centipede, I can review this.


The Punisher (2017)
starring: Jon Bernthal, Amber Rose Revah, 
Ben Barnes
creator: Steve Lightfoot

"After the murder of his family, Marine veteran Frank Castle became a vigilante known as "The Punisher" with only one goal in mind, to avenge them." (summary by IMDB).

Shane Walsh: The Good Bad Guy

I came to this series the way I've come to a lot of recent ones, through Jeffrey Dean Morgan's Twitter recommendations. I haven't read many graphic series, but the one I have experience with (Kirkman's TWD) put me in a good position to at least approach this show with curiosity. Fans of the television series already know Jon Bernthal as the ill-fated Shane Walsh from The Walking Dead, and if you were left wanting more from him, this show delivers it and then some. 

This is not to say that this is a program for everyone, even fans of the Marvel Universe, it's really not. It's very explicit. No superpowers, no magic stones, and no real optimism to speak of, it's a mostly plausible tale of government corruption and military trauma and is presented in a raw, unapologetic way. To be completely honest, this show might be the most violent thing I've ever seen on television to date in the form(s) of gun violence, hand-to-hand fighting, stabbings, torture, military combat, assassination, vehicular assault, and terrorist-motivated explosions. 

The story takes you through a combat veteran's active duty experiences, the murder of his wife and children, the continuing corruption of the government agencies that sanctioned these events, and the difficulty many other veterans have in reconciling their past military actions with their current civilian lives.

Can a show with all this still be a worthwhile experience? It really depends. My initial responses were either a firm "no" or a somewhat wavering "maybe." If you enjoy Marvel comics but can't handle extreme violence, then no. Definitely not. If you've experienced any of the previously described violent acts firsthand, then also no. If you're able to stomach it and to put the violence in its context, then maybe. There are a few supporting plot lines that do a little in providing slightly positive challenges for the narrative such as a member-organized support group for veterans, another insider-ally who has faked his own death to protect his family, and an Iranian-American Homeland Security officer who takes on her own department and several others in order to uncover the corruption and abuse that Frank is avenging. It's hard to know how much is too much with a topic like this given the fact that our troops' time in Afghanistan hasn't really ended yet; presenting a fictional situation in the middle of a very real, ongoing conflict comes off as crossing a lot of lines, no matter how comic-book loyal or over the top they tried to keep it, however, it does accomplish a level of empathy for our servicemen and women and builds awareness that more is needed in order to support them throughout their service. 

Also: BEN BARNES. 

Speaking to the technique of the series of course seems a little dismissive after working out all of my complicated feelings about the fact that this even exists as a work of art, but I think still think it matters. Overall I found the experience of this show to be a combination of something like the procedural feel of Kathryn Bigelow (such as in The Hurt Locker or Zero Dark Thirty) meeting the more reality-based aesthetics and violence of Quentin Tarantino (such as Inglourious Basterds or The Hateful Eight). 

Bernthal's portrayal of the character was very much downplayed; he seemed quiet and sullen for his deliveries suggesting a cold, controlled, beaten-down kind of soldier, which he absolutely was. It almost felt like he put a lot of TWD's Rick Grimes (Andrew Lincoln) into his lines, doing them as straightly as an Englishman portraying a Southern boy would do. 

The music was extremely well-matched to the dark content of the narrative and many times included driving percussion and sweeping chord progressions to set the tone for danger as well as jarring, electric guitar chords to herald Frank's entrance into situations and to present him as a threat, a badass, and ultimately the victor in every situaton. The opening credits introduction (shown below) is really quite good but don't be fooled by the folksy guitar--things are bad and get much, much worse. It's hard to know what else to say. I can't really recommend it, but should you take it on, just tread lightly and look into the pillow once you hear the metal guitar or the skull shirt comes onto the scene.




I had a "Who is this for," and "Who shouldn't watch this" all written out and ready but I deleted it. Just proceed with caution and know your limits. 

Roger Ebert: Life Itself

I don't normally read biographies, or autobiographies anymore, mostly because I don't really care about stars' personal lives. Of the few I have read, I've usually finished thinking, "I liked this person better before I read this," or "I really didn't need to know all that." Probably not fair of me, and obviously there are exceptions (Tina Fey comes to mind) but there it is. However. This memoir of Ebert's was fantastic. I can't gush over it enough.

This isn't simply a great story because of his success as a critic or emotional triumph over his many, many health problems (though these things are definitely impressive)---this guy can write. I strongly believe that Roger Ebert could have chosen any path in journalism or publishing and absolutely taken it to the top, he's that good. The chapters in this memoir were very specific, some dealing with his mother, some obviously with his experiences as a critic (THE critic, as it were), and more than a few about his wife Chaz, but honestly, the chapter about his love for his dog was every bit as interesting and emotionally charged as the one where he recounted his struggle with salivary cancer and the three failed surgeries that followed.

On Robert Altman: "There may not have been a director who liked actors more. He had a temper, and I saw him angry with cinematographers, Teamsters, prop men, lighting guys, critics, and people making noise during a shot, but actors were his darlings and they could do no wrong. When he asked for another take, there was the implication that he enjoyed the last one so much he wanted to see the actors do it again simply for his personal pleasure."

On Eyrie Mansion in London: "Fires, I decided, were a source of heat, not merely, like central heating, its presence. There must be something deep within our memory as a species that is pleased by being able to look at what is making us warm."

On losing the ability to eat and communicate verbally: "What's sad about not eating is the experience, whether at a family reunion or at midnight by yourself in a greasy spoon under the L tracks. The loss of dining, not the loss of food. Unless I'm alone, it doesn't involve dinner if it doesn't involve talking. The food and drink I can do without easily. The jokes, gossip, laughs, arguments, and memories I miss."

The above passage is actually incomplete; he ends it with what I found to be the most emotional bit in the entire book (and I'm not going to spoil it for you, you'll have to come upon it yourself). I don't know the man, have no connection to him, really, and yes I'm being overly sentimental, but the ending to that paragraph almost made me fall in love with him a little.

Bravo.

Zzzzzzz

(that's the sound of me trying to write on Vicodin after trying to walk normally for a week off steroids with messed up hips). HIPS! God, just start calling me Sarah Goldfarb instead of Television Lady. And get me a walker.

My review of Bridesmaids is up on Examiner if you're interested.

I posited some personal thoughts about the film on my personal blog if you're interested in that.

In other news, I've got very little cooking for the summer, a few recommendations from friends and a LOST rewatch with my oldest two kids but that's really it. I'm really excited for True Blood, Breaking Bad, and the final season of Rescue Me, (I dreamed about GARRITY a few weeks back, of all people) but that's not for quite a while. Tick-tock, tick-tock.

Also, I have to say thanks (again) for everyone who reads, follows, and comments over here. It's taken a hell of a long time, but somehow you guys are getting me in monthly revenue what it used to take me an entire year to accumulate; it's a far cry from having my name just under Ebert's on IMDB, but it's progress and I'm grateful. XOXO.

Books of Note

1. The O. Henry Awards Prize Stories, 2000.

Yeah, I'm pretty much not punctual when it comes to everything (year 2000 and all). There were twenty short stories in this volume; I liked them all. My two favorites were "He's At The Office" by Allan Gurganus and "Whileaway" by Jeannette Bertles. The first was about Alzheimers disease, the second about the aftermath of a divorce; both were brilliant and involved little bits of trickery by their characters. I'm kind of big on trickery, of course and furthermore, I think everyone should read short stories. Creating a contained world for a short piece and its events from start to finish is actually a lot harder than most people realize, but when done right? Amazing. The very last story was one by Raymond Carver ("Kindling"), whose style I really, really like a lot. Here's a bit:

"Then he put the pen down and held his head in his hands for a moment. Pretty soon he got up and undressed and turned off the light. After he'd gotten into bed he realized he'd left the window open. But he didn't get up. It was okay like that."

2. Roger Ebert's Book of Film, 1996.

This is a really respectable collection of writings on film, not film reviews, and is basically really valuable knowledge on the craft. Parts of it felt a little heavy to me, not because the essays or interviews weren't interesting (they all were) but because many of the subjects were film people (stars, directors, writers) from a completely different era and it kind of felt like reading a history novel after a while. Yeah, it's a generational thing, I suppose, but let's just say I put my time in with all that years ago, so I gave myself license to skip any parts that weren't blowing my skirt up. I'm sure Ebert won't mind. As a whole, though, I really liked this book, it made me giggle a lot, and many of the essays were really well done.

Libby Gelman-Waxner writes (on noir and David Lynch):

"I saw Wild at Heart at a brand-new multiplex in SoHo, where there is a cafe that serves French pastries and at least ten different bottled waters, and where at least one of the theaters is always showing a blasphemous foreign film that portrays Jesus as either a cabdriver or a teenage girl. Everyone in the audience had asymmetrical haircuts, glasses with thick black frames, and clunky, rubber-soled shoes. They looked like French opium addicts, but if you ask me, they were all probably assistants at public-relations firms uptown. All of these people loved Wild at Heart, and they all felt that David Lynch is a quirky visionary who deals in subconscious dream imagery, and after a while, I wished I was home watching a Golden Girls rerun. I have never been able to sit through a whole episode of Twin Peaks; it's a postmodern soap opera, which means that every time someone onscreen eats a piece of apple pie, you can hear a thousand grad students start typing their doctoral dissertations on "Twin Peaks: David Lynch and the Semiotics of Cobbler."
(SNORT! I mean, granted, I love Wild at Heart AND Twin Peaks, but I was in school together with an ocean of French Opium Addict-looking dudes, and trust me, that last statement is more valid that you'd think. . .  !)

And Bukowski (from Hollywood)

There was a small group with cassette recorders. Some flashbulbs went off. I didn't know who they were. They began asking questions.
"Do you think drinking should be glorified?"
"No more than anything else . . ."
"Isn't drinking a disease?"
"Breathing is a disease."
"Don't you find drunks obnoxious?"
"Yes, most of them are. So are most teetotalers."
"But who would be interested in the life of a drunk?"
"Another drunk."
"Do you consider heavy drinking to be socially acceptable?"
"In Beverly Hills, yes. On skid row, no."
"Have you 'gone Hollywood'?"
"I don't think so."
"Why did you write this movie?"
"When I write something I never think about why."

I think I'm going to have to get Barfly pretty soon.

Rescue Me, Ebert, Porky's II.

Rescue Me: There is an episode, in the fourth season that is extremely difficult to watch. I'm not talking Janet (although I will not watch her anymore; that bit with her and the baby sent me over the edge) or any of the booze, cheatings, or beatings. It's titled SEVEN, and during the opening scene before the credits, 62 is called to an apartment fire where a woman and seven children are trapped. It's a little unlike any of the other fire scenes in that it's pretty majorly stylized (music playing the entire time, dialogues muted, a few slow shots, etc.) but despite this, it's almost unbearable. Many of the children are toddlers. Tommy and the new probie go up the ladder; Ken, Franco, and Garrity go inside the building. You know from the very beginning (that song!) that things are not going to go well.

This is the best example (after LOST) of the power of episodic television. It doesn't take long for characters to become real; you know them, you care about them, and most of all, you believe them. The scene in the apartment is terrifying because you're scared for the firefighters (even Garrity, who's a giant DOLT, but was the first one in---I was worried!), you're scared for the people inside, and a part of you is scared for yourself, because you know shit like this really happens. Space heaters, overrun outlets, wiring, all of it, it's real. The floor caves in. The mother throws her children out the window. Tommy nearly falls off the ladder. Seven tiny bodies, covered in blankets on the sidewalk. The looks on each of their faces . . . Jesus. It's heavy.

On a brighter note: I read YOUR MOVIE SUCKS by Roger Ebert this weekend. I really wish I could have found it when I was doing my worst films ever list because it was really useful and actually quite funny. I think my favorite thing about it was his scowl on the front cover, but the writing is very, very good too. I like Ebert a lot because he's a not only a great critic but a great writer; his sarcasm and media references are *hilarious* and extremely smart. Here are some:

"The film is set in a rainy jungle in Panama. I suspect it rains so much as an irritant, to make everything harder to see and hear. Maybe it's intended as atmosphere. Or maybe the sky gods are angry at the film." ---review of Basic.

"Battlefield Earth is like taking a bus trip with someone who has needed a bath for a long time. It's not merely bad, it's unpleasant in a hostile way." ---review of Battlefield Earth


"The film has been directed without grace, vision, or originality, and although you may walk out quoting lines of dialogue, it will not be because you admire them." ---review of Pearl Harbor


I loved this book. I've got two more on deck of his and seriously can't wait. And finally, I don't think I've had more fun reading someone else's review than his on Divine Secrets of the Ya-ya Sisterhood. Obviously, we agreed.

("dead as a #$*&*&@ doornail")

Last of all: Porky's Two, The Next Day, 1983, directed by Bob Clark. 
written by Roger Swaybill, Alan Ormsby, and Bob Clark
starring: Wyatt Knight, Dan Monahan, Khaki Hunter, Nancy Parsons.

"The naughty high schoolers of Angel Beach High now seek revenge on a group of KKK religious fanatics and corrupt politicians who want to shut down their Shakespeare production after they cast a Seminole transfer student in the lead." (IMDB).

This is probably the most ridiculously random and outlandish film that still manages to actually be funny. I think the original Porky's was a little tighter and better written, to be honest, but like I was saying up there about the episodic business, if I like a character, I'd probably watch them in anything, and Tommy, Pee-Wee, Meat, and Ballbreaker are great characters. Not exactly realistic, but interesting and very comical. The situations are ridiculous:

1. "I GOT LAID!" Pee-wee screams out upon waking; he gets to retire his "growth chart."
2. Tray of masturbating frogs.
3. Big Edna, Graveyard Gloria.
4. The Explanation Scene of Wendy's reputation.
5. The Shakespeare/The KKK/The Seminoles/The Righteous Flock/Commissioner Gebhart---these things are interesting, I guess but not as interesting as the characters just being ridiculous, themselves. Like the bit with Ballbreaker in the toilet with the snake ("Give you the snake? Get your own fuckin' snake, GIVE YOU THE SNAKE!") The film is good at shanannigans but a little out of its element with The Klan, politics, and religion. Although the scene in the gym where The Seminoles deliver a little (off-camera) payback to The Klan? That was sweet.


It's not stellar comedy, but as part of the entire package, Porky's, Porky's Two, and Porky's Revenge, it's something every eighties child will probably hold sacred.