Mongol

 

How exactly did a kid named Temujin, from the sticks in Mongolia grow up to become Ghengis Khan and control the largest empire in the history of the world?  Russian director Sergei Bodrov plans to tackle that question in a trilogy of historical epics and Mongol is the first.  It was no easy task for Bodrov to create such a grand-scaled film on a less-than-modest budget of 20 million dollars (donated by the country of Kazakhstan among others) and a crew of people speaking roughly 30 different languages.  Somehow it all works.

One of the greatest delights of Mongol is the striking landscape captured so well by Bodrov and cinematographers Rogier Stoffers and Sergey Trofimov.  The film manages to find a striking palette even when focusing on the dull browns of Mongolia’s arid steppe, contrasted beautifully against the gold of a panoramic twilight.  The Mongolian landscape seems to shift tones in harmony with the fortune of Temujin; from the frozen white of his childhood exile, to the lush green fields of his reunion with his bride.

Temujin’s biography can only be understood as myth crossed with history.  Born in a mostly illiterate culture in the late 12th century, records of his wheelings and dealings can be shaky at best.  Bodrov settles on the idea that little Genghis Khan suffered, became wise for it, grew older and continued to suffer some more.  Kicking the film off Temujin is born into political turmoil as his father the Khan (roughly- clan leader) is assassinated and Temujin’s birth rite as head of his clan is usurped.

As Bodrov depicts it, historic Mongolian’s were a stoic bunch and the movie is stocked with men of few words.  Blood-brother and rival Khan, Jamukha is a much needed source of comedy as he merrily sits and drinks at the campfire despite suffering great losses in his battles.  The deepest psychological tract in the film is Temujin’s rift with Jamukha, and his eventual recognition of the shortcomings of his people.  In doing so he unites them, offers new laws and begins his conquering.

The movie’s action tendencies inevitably take over during its few battle scenes.  For the most part they are achieved well, in spite of the film’s meager budget.  A couple moments of hand-to-hand combat seem awkwardly stylized in an unexpectedly Ang Lee fashion.  While that, and a couple more heavy-handed CGI strokes tend to conflict with the film’s earnest grit, overall the battles are visceral despite their predictable outcomes.

Compared to much clumsier historical epics like Oliver Stone’s Alexander and Ridley Scott’s Kingdom of Heaven, Mongol is a somber triumph.  Taken on its own it is a film that is artful and amusing despite its self-importance.

***1/2

 

My Morning Jacket-Evil Urges

 

My Morning Jacket has enjoyed that rare arc of musical success; the gradual kind.  Over five years the band released three records, each building on their distinctive blend of classic rock guitar work outs, fireside ballads, reverb psychedelia, and Jim James inimitable voice.  Likewise, their following grew steadily and they really broke through to greater fandom with It Still Moves their opus recorded on a Kentucky farm.

When almost half the band (guitarist Johnny Quaid, and keyboardist Danny Cash) resigned in 2004, it seemed the bands steady rise may have finally stuttered.  My Morning Jacket responded with Z, an album that managed to retain their hard earned identity while stepping in to new electronic, reggae and R&B territory.  Jim James stepped out from his curtain of reverb and revealed a still delightful voice.

Fans can only assume Evil Urges will only be another step in a meteoric career.  Unfortunately, it is the bands first misstep and a clumsy one.

Opening with the title track the record holds a newfound sense of glossy sheen.  A funky drum beat locks in with restrained guitar chiming and Jim James starts his melody in the rafters.  It’s not a complete shocker, Z had a sexual falsetto on its opening track, but this is a full on display of un-ironic booty shaking.  James consoles us not to be ashamed of our more sinful compulsions like a bearded Prince (or artist formerly known as).  One can tell the band is biting off a lot, and god damn if they don’t almost completely own it.  But, its all down hill from here.

“Highly Suspicious” is the biggest glutton for punishment on the entire album.  No doubt a shot at a summertime fun anthem, it hits like a day-glow piece of eighties funk-rock.  James squeaks away “so high” (so terribly high) and the band retorts in a demonic bark “highly suspicious of you.”  This breed of goofiness might look okay on Ween or Mr. Bungle, but the laughs seem a little embarrassing for MMJ.

Tracks like “I’m Amazed” are an assurance that rocking is still on the agenda, but feel more like REO Speedwagon recycles than guitar-riff fireworks.  The band’s accomplished hush on ballads is of little use here either.  ”Librarian” is an outright fantasy of cliched bookworm sexuality crooned over serious acoustic moodiness.  Jim James gentle dose of Nashville Skyline era Dylan/Kermit the Frog, gets pumped up to the level of self parody on the high-fructose yacht rocker “Sec Walkin.”  The stylistic explorations are welcome, but they often feel empty.

The standout tracks “Aluminum Park” and “Remnants” should keep the bands live standard of barn burners going.  But, it is disappointing that their most typical tracks are the finest, in an album that seems like a well-produced pastiche of meager, stylized impressions.  

Credit must be given to the band as their arrangements are for the most part, as nuanced and graceful as any of their better work.  Patrick Hallahan confidently drums out whatever funk button James wants to push and guitarist Carl Broemel can add dimension to some pretty thin concepts.  It seems the source material- if not James himself- is where Evil Urges feels awkward and contrived.

The band ties it up with a reprise of one of the albums better tracks “Touch Me I’m Going to Scream”.  The track opens with synths in a moment that sounds like Kraftwerk worship and keeps building with a promising tension.  It then launches into a faux Depeche Mode disco drum beat that falls flat.  Maybe all of these awkward strokes are the band’s real evil urges (disco beats, Prince worship, yacht rock).  Still, the boys are an ostensibly talented bunch that have already proven their longevity.  Better things may be on the horizon.

 

** 

The Sins of Scripture by John Shelby Spong

 

John Shelby Spong is a rare paradox.  Both a radical reformist and a scholar of doctrine he stands on the occasionally liberal platform of an Anglican Bishop.  Equally celebrated and reviled by people of the Christian faith, Spong has used his retirement to publish such progressive books as Why Christianity Must Change or Die and Rescuing the Bible from Fundamentalism.  

In The Sins of Scripture Spong’s main purpose is to isolate the few passages of the Bible that have been used to justify violence, persecution and prejudice and disarm them through lucid Bible study, interpretation, history and simple theology.  The book is divided into sections focusing on the Bible’s relationship with the environment, sexism, homophobia and anti-semitism.  Spong is successfully methodical by opening each chapter with a handful of these ’sinful scriptures’ and addressing them individually.

Clearly, any fundamentalist reading of the bible could easily derail any of Spong’s critical positions.  For this reason The Sins of Scripture opens by looking back at Spong’s earlier work and his claim that fundamentalism is poor Bible study.  Spong delivers an anecdote that describes his lifelong love affair with the Bible (most likely to keep conservatives at bay) and qualifies his position on the nature of the Bible.  As a dynamic doctrine that has changed over millennia and was written by a great number of people, the variety of perspective and frequent contradictions require an active, and critical reading.

One of the most engaging sections of the book is the one devoted to the Bible and homosexuality.  Spong points out that religious homophobes have startlingly few passages to use to their persecutive ends.  A couple of lines in Romans and a couple form the book of Leviticus (the most popular anti-gay writing in the bible).  Spong invites people to begin by considering the purpose of the book of Leviticus as a whole.  It is a book written to guide exiled Jews living amongst Babylonians.  This section of the Torah is a large part of the origin of Kosher lifestyle.  

The prescription of this lifestyle was a successful way for the Jews to retain their cultural independence.  A Kosher diet prevented Hebrews from dining amongst Babylonians and served as an effective barrier against cross-cultural marriage.  Another way Leviticus sought to differentiate the Hebrews was through the admonishment:  ”If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall be put to death; their blood be upon them (Leviticus 20:13).”

To this hateful passage Spong offers a humorous anecdote detailing his many responses to letters indicting his acceptance of homosexuals:

” ‘Have you not read Leviticus?’  That was a regular refrain in letters written to me by Bible quoters when this debate on homosexuality was raging in my church some years ago.  By Leviticus they could have meant only the texts from Leviticus 18 and 20-I doubt they were referring to the injunction in Leviticus that warns, “You shall not round off the hair on your temples or mar the edges of your beard” (19:27) (Spong pg. 124).”

Even more entertaining is Spong’s analysis of the biblical root of the word sodomite.  Its origins can be found in the book of Genesis in a wild tale containing a God who is clearly not omniscient, some incest and the man Lot offering his daughters up for gang rape (which strangely enough is divinely sanctioned in the tale) (Genesis 19).  If these too are Biblical values than a fundamentalist does have a rather perplexing task.

But, if these antique bits of venom can so easily be cast aside, what would Spong have a good Christian keep?  This is where The Sins of Scripture becomes radical, and somewhat difficult.  Spong outlines an approach to Christianity that is uniquely vigorous, as it places responsibility in the faithful.  At points his cry for a faith centered less on dogma and more on spirituality is vague, but nonetheless passionate.

As a secular reader I found The Sins of Scripture to be a relief.  In a country with a religious majority, an intelligent and formalized attack on what are clearly the most absurd aspects of an aging religion, is like an oasis.  Spong not only gestures to where the Bible is off track, but also to where it is entertaining, lucid and sublime.  If so many people are to continue reading such ancient writing in such a brave new world we will certainly need more John Shelby Spong’s to light the way.

 

****