Star Trek Into Darkness: Criticisms aside, Still Great Fun

Generally speaking, I do try to approach each film I watch with a certain amount of critical, dispassionate distance. However, I am human, and there are just some films and series (maybe more than some) out there that bring out the "fan" in me. Star Trek films are exactly those types of films for me. It's hard not to get emotionally involved in the series. After all, it's a series I have grown up with.

While I did not watch many of the the original series episodes growing up, I loved the movies with the original crew. Even when I didn't necessarily love one of the entries in the series (Final Frontier, I'm looking at you!), there was still a measure of love for the effort and for seeing my favorite galaxy-hopping crew.

So, where is all of this leading? I'm getting there.

In the weeks leading up to the release of Star Trek Into Darkness, I've felt compelled to read a few of the early reviews. For films like this I normally avoid reviews because there's a chance my feelings might get hurt by what the critic has to say. Over the past two weeks, my head and heart have been battling it out. Reviews with negatively suggestive titles, I avoid. Reviews with more positive titles, I read. Some times this worked, other times... not so much.

Not exactly fair and balanced, I know, but then again, this is Star Trek.

Anyway, from the reviews I've read there have been considerable criticisms leveled at Abrams and company regarding the new installment. Some feel that the essence of what made Star Trek great is being lost in the push for a more action heavy summer blockbuster. Others feel that specific plot points pushed them passed the threshold of belivability.

To some extent I agree with these criticisms. The philosophical quandries presented in the earlier films and television series seem to be severely limited in favor of practically tearing the Enterprise to pieces. (I am worried that poor Enterprise won't survive its five year voyage at the current rate of destruction.) Little time is given for the characters to truly contemplate the consequences of their actions, and the film does end in a quick and lazy manner.

However, I'm taking this film as a step in character development, an episode in a new series, if you'll allow.

Critics have been complaining about the immaturity of Kirk (Chris Pine) in this film. While I agree with them that Kirk is far from the morally-centered captain of the original series, what I feel is forgotten in the rush to complain is the fact that Abrams' Kirk is a fresh, young captain, not the experienced version we have seen in William Shatner's Kirk. Even in the original series, Kirk was already a mature and capable captain. Pine's Kirk, while quite capable, has yet to reach that level of maturity, so I actually find it refreshing to see him making mistakes.

Another criticism I've read involves the fact that Spock (Zachary Quinto) is far more emotional in this film than Leonard Nimoy ever was. There is an answer for that as well. In this alternate timeline, Spock's character is in the midst of reconciling his emotional human half with his logical Vulcan half. The vacillation Spock experiences in this film, like with Kirk, indicates a lack of maturity. These are young characters, not quite mature, but almost. They are learning, and I find witnessing this process
fascinating.

Star Trek Into Darkness does, at least, correct a major problem I had with the first film in Abrams' series: a complete disregard for modern science. Yes, years and years ago, a common trope of sci-fi was the black hole. Any problem in the plot that cannot be fixed? Use a black hole.

However, today, our knowledge of black holes is substantial enough to suggest that the events in Star Trek are quite improbable, if not impossible. I'm still wondering why they didn't just use worm holes, something that's been around for a while now in sci-fi, having taken the place of black holes. It seems like such an easy fix, especially considering the backgrounds of all the people involved (Fringe, Lost). For this film, I didn't have any such reservations, so that in and of itself is an improvement.

There is one problem I do have with the "science" of this film: Beaming seems to be both a insurmountable obstacle and a safe and easy escape route. Characters seem to have no problem hoping across the galaxy thanks to Scotty's (the hilarious and perfectly cast Simon Pegg) "trans-warp beaming" equation. However, beaming one person from the center of an active volcano is a massive problem. The logic here escapes me, and I can usually argue such problems (part of the joy of Trek-science discussions among friends).

That being said, this lapse in scientific know-how doesn't bother me as much this time around because these obvious plot devices serve a much larger purpose: the moral growth of the crew and the larger critique of a war-mongering state. Because these plot devices work to establish an intriguing rhetoric, I can forgive them. The same cannot be said of the first film.

And now, my friends, I have written my way into spoiler territory. Much of this review has lacked any plot specifics because I've been trying to save that for the end, where I must discuss another character, and I'm afraid I have to give the film's major secret away. So, if you have not yet seen the film, I'll leave you with the following: Star Trek Into Darkness is an overall improvement, a welcome addition to Abrams' stamp on the Trek universe.

Spoilers begin now.

Benedict Cumberbatch, oh what a glorious name! For months, plenty of people have been speculating on the true identity of Cumberbatch's villain. And for months now plenty of people have guessed right. Cumberbatch's John Harrison is none other than Khan Noonien Singh.

The moment Cumberbatch finally reveals his true name, I got chills. This dude is seriously creepy and a far cry from Ricardo Montalban's iconic, scene-chewing/stealing, villain from the original series and the classic Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.

Again, some critics have cried foul because of rehashing of a classic. However, I don't consider this a rehashing at all. In fact, the film's writers have gone out of their way to change as much as possible. This story has very little to do with the original series episode or the previous film. There are similarities, of course: how Khan was found (kind of), Khan's basic history, and Khan's own psychosis. But everything else is different thanks to the alternate timeline. Indeed, I'm hoping any future entanglements with Khan will revolve around Spock's brilliant subterfuge at the end of the film. This time around, Khan will have a much bigger beef with Spock than with Kirk.

As far as Cumberbatch's performance goes, I loved it. He's fierce, charming (not to mention a bit sexy), manipulative, intelligent, and Scotty's reaction to seeing Khan take down three Starfleet officers is priceless and quite appropriate. Khan is a much more physically intimidating presence this time around, no wonder both Spock and Uhura (played by the lovely Zoe Saldana) are needed to take him down.

Well, if you've stayed this long, thank you. Believe me, I had no intention of writing a lengthy review, but that's how writing goes sometimes. And as my family and partner have experienced on multiple occasions, I can be quite talkative when the "fan" in me comes out. It's the essence of fandom, I'm afraid, and I'm hardly immune.

Overall, despite and because of its flaws, Star Trek Into Darkness is a great summer movie and a wonderful continuation of the Star Trek universe.

*On a lighter note... Here's some grammar humor for you. And look! There's a Contact reference in there, too! :)

Favorites: Little Shop of Horrors

After two months of nothing, I have a new post for you all, and it's an new "Favorites" essay.

Now that work has slowed down considerably, I have the time and energy to devote to writing on here, something I've greatly missed over the past couple of months. This particular post has been swimming around in my head since before Christmas, and I have now decided to sit down and write it.

Years and years ago (who knows exactly how long ago), I remember watching a peculiar little musical that my parents had rented (probably from Blockbuster, remember those?). It was filled with catchy musical numbers, strange caricatures of humanity, and one vulgar plant. I say "vulgar" because near the end of the film the plant utters an obscenity, and I was young enough to be totally shocked by it. After years of restaurant work and playground antics, words like "shit" no longer have quite the same effect. However, Little Shop of Horrors's lack of obscene language proves the old adage "less is more." But I digress.

Little Shop of Horrors is one of those films, I believe, which marks the beginnings of my current infatuations with dorky, nerdy, socially awkward guys. Yes, for some inexplicable reason I had the biggest crush on Rick Moranis as Seymour Krelborn. I think it was the glasses. Yes, I blame the glasses. Either way, he was a first in a very long line, leading all the way up to Sheldon Cooper.

The film itself is actually a remake of an old(er) B-horror film starring Jack Nicholson. Seymour, as an employee of a failing flower shop, is lovesick and depressed, which is a condition that seems to be contagious on Skid Row. That is, until one day when he stumbles upon a "strange and unusual" plant. In an obvious bid to win a coworker's affections, Audrey (played by Ellen Greene), he names the plant, Audrey II.

After receiving a paying customer, drawn to the shop by the "strange and unusual" plant, the shop owner, Mr. Mushnik (played by Vincent Gardenia), orders Seymour to keep the plant alive. Odd thing, the plant doesn't want any of the usual pant foods. It doesn't even react to anything Seymour tries. That is, until Seymour pricks his finger on a thorn. The plant then makes a sucking sound and reaches for Seymour's bleeding finger. Blood is the plant's food preference.

Of course, any rational thinking human would chuck the plant out the window and go on about his/her life. However, the film sets up the characters as being so despondent that they are willing to take a beating if an escape from Skid Row lingers on the horizon. After receiving such positive reactions from those around him, especially Audrey, Seymour forgets about his misgivings and decides to feed the plant the blood it craves.

There are other complications, however. Audrey is dating a dentist. Not just any dentist. No. She's dating the most sadistic dentist the world has every known, Orin Scrivello, D.D.S. (played by Steve Martin). Like Seymour's own unwillingness to avoid abusive behavior, Audrey illustrates an unsavory willingness to accept Orin's repeated beatings so long as she's dating a "doctor." Like most partners suffering from abuse, she doesn't think she deserves better.

From the description above, it might be hard to tell that Little Shop is a musical comedy, and a hilarious one at that. The film lovingly pokes fun at the characters and the absurd plots of monster movies, but it does so without hating its characters.

Under the direction of Jim Henson (of Muppets fame), the film is not just a musical and comedic treat, it's a beautifully shot film as well. Henson knows how to set up jokes and effectively uses light and shadow.

The opening is a perfect example. Little Shop opens with a beautiful view of a starry sky, swirling in cosmic colors. The shot then dissolves to a similar swirl of color that turns out to be an oil slick on top of curbside puddle of water. Henson brilliantly sets up the tone of the film with the first couple of shots: the grand brought low.

The film is filled with filmic wonderment, but the best effect (of course) is Audrey II. If the film were to be made today, Audrey II would be a CGI monster, and that would be a mistake, a huge mistake.

Watching the film on Blu-ray, I'm struck with how well the movie has held up over time. Audrey II is just as impressive, even more impressive today as it was when I first saw it on my parents' enormous 12-inch screen.

Using his own prodigious skill with puppets, Henson creates a gigantic plant with such fluid movement that it's hard to imagine just how he could have pulled it off. The trick involves no animation (computer or otherwise), but a lot puppeteers and a slower film speed. Basically, ever shot with the plant and Moranis was performed at a slower speed than normal so that when the film is run at a normal speed (24 fps), the movements look normal. Impressive, indeed. In camera special effects are at times more realistic than anything computer animation has produced so far. Even by today's standards, Audrey II looks amazing.

But the effects and directing are not the only reasons I consider this film to be one of my favorites. The performances are also fantastic. To start, Henson uses his penchant for cameos just as superbly as he does for the Muppets. Appearances by James Belushi and John Candy are great, but the one cameo that steals the show is one which is not in the original musical. Thanks mostly to great ad-libbing, Bill Murray's quick onscreen presence is hysterical. Murray plays an overeager patient to Martin's sadistic dentist. Their one scene together is a brilliant joke involving S & M. Of course, it's a PG movie, so the joke is mild, but still funny as hell.

The heart of the film, however, is in the performances of Moranis and Greene. Moranis seems made to play the awkward Seymour, and Greene (with her distinctive voice) originated the role of Audrey on Broadway. Moranis is loveably dorky, and Greene proves that a wispy, quiet voice does not necessarily mean one can't belt out a showstopper. Both characters are desperate to escape from their own personal traps, hoping to move beyond the boundaries of their psyches and the borders of Skid Row. I remember watching their journey as a kid and being moved.

And after all these years, I still love to watch both characters gain each other, gain their own piece of happiness, gain that special place somewhere it's green.

Oz, the Not-So Great and Wonderful

Once again, it seems I have neglected my duties here. This blog seems to suffer the most while I'm busy  with my teaching requirements--you know, grading and such. Every once in a while, an idea will pop into my head, but before I have the chance to write it down, I start to feel guilty: Grading has to be done. But now I'm in the middle of Spring Break, and while there is still grading to be done, my guilt is outweighed by my desire to relax and write something that has absolutely nothing to do with teaching others how to write.

And so, I bring you a review of Sam Raimi's latest film, Oz the Great and Powerful, a prequel to the classic, The Wizard of Oz. This time, we follow the adventures of Oscar (James Franco) before he became all "great and powerful." Turns out, he was a poor, philandering magician attached to a traveling carnival. Then one day, a twister whisks him away to the land of Oz, where he meets three beautiful witches. Sounds like the making of a wonderful and intriguing story, but sadly no. For the most part, this film's story is rather dull. The visuals are great--especially the CGI character, China Girl--but the real tragedy is in the casting of Mila Kunis as Theodora (The Wicked Witch of the West).

Mila Kunis is a fine actress, but she is tragically miscast here. Yes, she can play an cold, evil seductress--just look at her wonderful performance in Black Swan--but a cold seductress is not what this film needs. Oddly, enough, this film needs a scenery-chewing, bold performance, one that is not too scared to be over-the-top wicked. And that's where the tragedy thickens, because the film DOES have a scenery-chewing performance in the delightfully wicked Rachel Weisz, who plays Evanora (The Wicked Witch of the West).

Now, I'm not saying Kunis should not have been cast, but I think she would have been better served playing Evanora rather than Theodora. Weisz's character is cold, calculating, and down-right manipulative, something Kunis could have pulled off with ease. And as I watched Weisz deliver the stand-out performance of the film, I kept asking myself, "Why didn't Raimi cast HER as The Wicked Witch of the West? She's terrifying."

Of course, I do hate to compare this film to its classical "sequel," but Margaret Hamilton's performance is the stuff of nightmares, even when she's playing Miss Gulch. Kunis' performance, not so much. Kunis looked the part, but she couldn't sell it. Instead of going over-the-top, Kunis goes under. Bless her heart, she tries. But doesn't quite get there. On a good note, Kunis will probably have another opportunity in the sequel. After all, the film is doing well at the box office, so Kunis should spend the time studying how to sell being over-the-top wicked.

That being said, the rest of the film looks wonderful, even the 3D presentation looked good. But there's a huge problem with a film when the preview for a 3D version of Jurassic Park produces more tension then the film I paid to see.

*As a side note, I can't wait to see Jurassic Park in 3D. Not only does the 3D look better than anything I've ever seen, I'm also looking forward to experiencing the film on an IMAX screen. The T-Rex's performance, now that's selling terror.

Finally! Something New: A Few Short-ish Reviews

For the last month and a half, it has seemed like such a chore to put words to page--so to speak. With the holidays, the end of the fall semester, I've had a general lack of interest in writing anything new. Well, that's not necessarily true. I'm actually in the process of rewriting the first couple of chapters in my book, Guardians and Dreamers. But that's not something I'll be publishing here any time soon.

My apologies.

Instead, I'm going to post this short-ish piece on the last few movies I've seen at the theaters. All were quite good, well, more than good actually.

Skyfall

I'm a James Bond fan. Not so great of a fan that I've seen every single Bond movie, but I've seen enough to recognize the formula and to have a favorite Bond actor. To be honest, I believe the first Bond you see will always hold a special place in your heart, and for me that actor is Roger Moore. I remember the excitement, the fun, I had watching my first Bond film, For Your Eyes Only. From the opening scene that led into Sheena Easton's titular song, I loved it.

However, I think Roger Moore has been replaced by Daniel Craig, especially with the glorious film that is Skyfall. While I do enjoy the Bond movies, I don't go into them expecting "great" filmmaking. Quality filmmaking, yes. A good time, usually, even with the subpar Bond movies. But I definitely don't expect great filmmaking. Skyfall is great filmmaking.

Sam Mendes has made some wonderful films: American Beauty, Road to Perdition (a film I absolutely love), and Revolutionary Road (a devastating look into a failing marriage and failing lives). He has elevated the Bond series; he has raised the possibilities of a Bond film. Like with The Dark Knight, after Skyfall, I'm not sure I'll be able to go into another Bond film without comparing it to Mendes' film.

The script is tense and fun without forgetting to pay homage to the Bond legacy. The performances, especially Judi Dench and Javier Bardem, transcend the usual caricatures. And the cinematography, by Roger Deakins, is truly beautiful. Watching the film in IMAX only served to highlight the qualities of the film.

In a couple of weeks, Skyfall comes out in Blu-ray, and I can't wait.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

The moment I heard Peter Jackson had committed to filming The Hobbit, I was very excited. After Lord of the Rings, how could I not be. And then came the delays, the drama, and the news that the short novel was going to be, somehow, split in two and then three films. Needless to say, I was getting frustrated and worried.

Thankfully, my worries were groundless. The Hobbit is a wonderful addition to the Lord of the Rings films. It even spends a bit more time on character development than any of its predecessors, especially in regard to Bilbo (played by Martin Freeman) and Thorin (played by Richard Armitage).

The opening of The Hobbit starts slow, but it's the good kind of slow. Jackson takes him time, allowing the audience to enjoy the return to Middle Earth, and allowing for the humor of Tolkien's work to build naturally into the story.

And when the action sequences come, they come in droves. From the moment Bilbo decides to accompany the dwarves on their journey, the action hardly lets up. One of the best action sequences occurs as the company tries to make their way through the Misty Mountains east of Rivendell and are captured by the orcs that have made the mountains their home.

Of course, the best scene of the film doesn't involve much action at all, just Bilbo and Gollum discussing the former's fate. Unlike when Tolkien first wrote the scene, Jackson knows the importance of this particular meeting and so does the audience. That he was able to capture the importance of the scene is a testament to Jackson's uncanny handle of the material.

A personal favorite scene is the meeting between Gandalf, Galadriel, Elrond, and Saruman. As a Lord of the Rings fan, I'm happy to see the parts of the story Tolkien saved for the appendices. Instead of being time-fillers, they work with the narrative Jackson is attempting to build.

For now, I've been satiated, and while I'm still wondering just how Jackson can fill out two more films, there's just a little less worry.

Les Miserables

The first time I remember listening to the soundtrack to the original Broadway cast recording, I was sitting in my junior Chemistry class--having finished my work, of course, and free to spend my time however I saw fit. Les Miserables moved me to tears, and only one other musical had done that before: Rent.

Now, all these years later, I was very excited to finally SEE a version of the musical. Despite my disappointment with the film version of Rent, the trailers and the people behind the film version of Les Miserables raised my hopes. I walked into the film with high expectations.

Unfortunately, Tim and were a little late getting to the theater--at least later than we usually like to arrive--and so we were forced to get a couple of less-than-stellar seats: right next to the entrance to the theater. We watched as people poured into the theater, filling up most the seats. The talking seemed louder than when we normally go to the movies.

I was starting to worry that the audience was going to ruin my own experience. However, this proved unfounded. The moment the film started we were all transported by the opening chords and the opening visuals to a post-revolutionary France.

Tom Hooper, who made the brilliant The King's Speech, directed the film in a style that was, for some reason, surprising. The film looked like how I imagine France of that time period, but it still looked a bit stylized. It was simultaneously real and fake. Right now, I can't describe it in any other way than as a stylized representation of reality. Weird as that sounds.

The opening shots seemed to travel by far faster than I would like, especially during "Lovely Ladies." Here was a song where you'd want to see all those lovely women, but the shots just flew by in a distracting whirlwind.

And then the film settled into Fantine's lamentation, "I Dreamed a Dream," where the camera drew in close to Anne Hathaway's face for an almost unbearable, single-shot, performance. Now, I don't mean Hathaway did a terrible job. No, when I say unbearable, I mean that the performance was so good, I felt guilty watching Fantine's descent into prostitution and loneliness. It was quite nearly unbearably sad. And from that moment on my eyes were filled with tears. Twice, after that, those tears fell from my eyes, unabashed and unashamed, for there were quite a few other people around us sniffling, and not just women either.

One of those moments caught me off guard. The first occurred during what has to be the saddest moment of the musical. The second was a moment I was not aware of; I'm not even sure it happened in the musical. It involved Javert (played by Russell Crowe) and Gavroche (played by Daniel Huttleston), and I'll say no more.

I haven't cried like that since I was surprised, once again, by Bridge to Terabithia--and I blame the misleading trailers for that one.

Anyway, I have focused on my emotional response to the film because that's what I remember most. Yes, the performances were topnotch--although Crowe doesn't exactly fail at singing, he does not do a swell job, but his acting fits the character. The production design was outstanding. My only critique is that the early scenes were editing at a pace that didn't fit the style of the film. It was a pacing more fitting for a Michael Bay film.

Other than that, I absolutely loved it.

Django Unchained

And finally, we've come to Tarantino's latest film. This was a surprise, too. A surprise because it happens to be Tarantino's most straight-forward narrative. The story is told from beginning to end without very many flashbacks or loops in storytelling. Django Unchained is almost like Tarantino wanted to prove he could tell a straight-forward story. It must have been a strain on the poor guy. And I keep hearing about a five hour edit he may or may not release.

Goodness... I'm not sure I want to see a five hour version of Django. The nearly three hours was plenty, just right in fact.

Even now, I'm not sure where I'd place Django against Tarantino's other films. While it does pack an emotional whollop, and the characters are fascinating; Django seems to be missing something although I'm not entirely sure what.

Maybe it has something to do with the uncomfortable subject matter. After all, culturally speaking, slavery is not something many Americans are proud of. I read an article that Americans are having the same reactions to Django that Germans had to Inglourious Basterds. I can now imagine how a revisionist film about WWII could make almost anyone whose cultural history encompasses that period might not embrace the film with overt enthusiasm.

Yes, even today, I'm not sure how I feel about Django. It's a good film, a wonderful example of a heroic journey. Think Odysseus, but instead of Sirens, Cyclopses, pig-soldiers, and many other terrors of the ancient Greek world, you have slaves, slave-holders, abolitionists, and every other unsavory aspect of slavery.

The story follows the format of a traditional heroic journey. The hero is freed, trained, and has to overcome some serious obstacles to achieve his goal, in this instance, the freeing of his wife, Broomhilda (played by Kerry Washington.

Jamie Foxx, Christoph Waltz, and Leonardo DiCaprio give stellar performances, but I think my favorite performance--the one that's the most memorable--has to go to Samuel Jackson. He plays Stephen, the devoted head servant for DiCaprio's Calvin Candie. Jackson has the hardest job of the entire cast: a black man who is terrifying and yet willing to do his master's bidding, no matter what happens to the black people around him. For Jackson, it's a performance rivaling the best of his career. Indeed, I'm disappointed he wasn't nominated for an Academy Award. He certainly deserves it.

Like with most of Tarantino's film, I'm unsure of how to approach the film, from a critical perspective, that is. It will definitely take time to process, again, like his other films. Truthfully, I may never find a way to approach his films other than to just sit back and enjoy the right. And Django Unchained is a swell ride.

A Response from a Part-Time Teacher

The past weekend has been a mixture of joy and depression. Joyful because Tim and I held our first holiday cocktail get-together on Saturday and depressing in large part because of the recent school shooting in Connecticut. But it's not the senseless death that has been depressing me, at least not entirely. What happened in Connecticut is overwhelmingly sad and no amount of words, no matter how eloquently used, will speed up the recovery process. Such acts leave gaping holes in the soul and only time will lessen the pain. 

What has been depressing me over the last few days are the responses from friends and family on Facebook. It seems, over the last few months, that what I once found enjoyable about the possibilities of the social networking giant has now become a burden. I started noticing the disturbing trend during the election process. Misinformation is passed around with absurd ease and is much harder to dispel than the "forward" emails that fill my inbox on a daily basis. Outright hatred, vile and deplorable speech, and insensitivity are all hurled from one end of the political spectrum to the other with indecent abandon. 

There was a distinct and disturbing "us vs. them" mentality that seemed to grow every single day. The point came when I just scanned my Facebook wall for certain key words, most notably: president, presidential candidates, Romney, Obama, politics, right-wing, left-wing, moron, idiot, socialism, communism, wealthy, healthcare, welfare, taxes, economy, and whatever other words associated with the election. I started simply skipping overtly political status updates because I just couldn't handle the rhetoric anymore.

Don't get me wrong, I love and appreciate a well-reasoned argument. But so much of what passes as fact or an attempt at persuasion are nothing more than one or two sentence long "sound bites" used to simplify highly complex issues. And what's worse is that politicians on both sides of the aisle used those very techniques as short-hand to spur their respective constituents into a frenzy. It worked only all too well. So well, in fact, that I saw the very same points made on my Facebook wall on student papers, without the slightest attempt at backing up the claims made. It's like they simply "reblogged" or "shared" what they had seen without giving any thought on the matter. And instead of a well-reasoned, calm discussion we get an increase in volume and ferocity, like changing the manner in which the words are spoken or written gives them more authority.

I've had plenty of phenomenal discussions with people who think and believe differently from me. I try not to descend into a yelling match, but I know, it's sometimes hard, especially if I'm really passionate about the issue. I generally try to walk away from that kind of discussion. The moment my blood starts to boil, or my face burns, I try to take a deep breath and just stop talking. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. I do this because engaging in a discussion or debate while angry is not in the best interest of whatever I'm wanting to support. In persuasion, anger is not a valid way of getting your point across to someone who thinks differently; it's only appropriate--kind of--when conversing with those who already with you. 

After five paragraphs, you may be wondering how all of this connects with the tragedy in Connecticut. Well, I'm starting to see the same things happening in the wake of the shooting. Instead of mourning the victims and their families and starting a serious discussion of why shootings like this have become an almost yearly occurrence. 

The discussions that are starting to take place on my Facebook wall can hardly be considered serious. I've seen posts suggesting we arm teachers and administrators. I've seen posts suggesting we "bring God back into the schools" (a curious statement, but I'll get to that later). While I understand the sentiments behind such claims, they seem more like knee-jerk reactions to a horrific event. 

First, let me address the "arming teachers" argument. I am a teacher. I'm also opposed to owning a gun. This is not because I think guns should be outlawed or anything like that. No, I support a person's right to possess a firearm. I just honestly don't think I could take a life. Plain and simple.

Now, I know what some of you may say: "What if your loved ones are suffering?" "What if someone broke into your house and was about to kill you?" and many other "what ifs?" The short answer to such questions is, "No, not even then." However, that statement makes it seem like I don't care about my loved ones or my own safety. That's not all the case, and this highlights the problem with simplistic answers. My answer is more complex than that. After all, I have given it some thought. 

So here's the longer answer. In a life or death situation, there can be no hesitation. You either pull the trigger, or you don't. When the heart is pounding, the adrenaline is flowing, no one really knows what they are going to do in such situations. Yes, we fantasize what we think we would do, but there's no way of really knowing, not until we have actually faced that situation, not until we have a gun pointed at our faces. Only then we will know exactly how we're going to react. I, for one, don't want to hesitate. For, in hesitating I give my would-be killer the opportunity to overpower me, thus arming them. That moment of indecision could cost me my life. That moment of indecision could give a robber a reason to kill me and my loved ones. 

But there's more. I also don't believe I'd be capable of taking a life. Once again, plenty of people have told me I could if put in the situation where it's my life or someone else's. Honestly, I can't be so sure. Just like with the scenarios presented above, they are fantasies, fantasies fueled by films and television where the hero rarely hesitates, rarely makes a wrong decision. 

Life is far more complex than that. In tragedy after tragedy, there are heroes and cowards. We glorify the heroes for their selfless acts, as we should. But then we simultaneously abhor those who are seen as cowards. Why didn't they act? Why didn't they do more? Fear. That powerful emotion that propels us in times of stress, fear can paralyze us, cause us to not act. Is it really cowardice when fear overwhelms the senses of a person who may have never truly experienced it? I don't know how I'd react in a similar situation. I have never faced fear like that. Hopefully, I'll never have to. 

The complexities of tragic circumstances deserve more than a call to arm all teachers and administrators.  After all, aren't they human, too? Aren't some of them dealing with the same emotional instabilities as Adam Lanza, if to a lesser degree? An alarming number of teachers and administrators have used their authority to abuse the students in their care. I shutter to think what might have happened if Sandusky had been able to carry a weapon around with him at Penn State.

The next suggestion, "bring God back into our schools," seems to be just as insensitive. As an agnostic, I don't hold to any particular form of religion, yet I firmly believe that people have a right to express their religion. The problem is that a school has to serve a wide variety of students, all with differing religious beliefs and cultures. Putting God back into schools in today's world is fine as a theory. Spirituality and religion give plenty of individuals hope, guidance, and offer opportunities for social connections. However, it can also lead to oppression and fanaticism. I understand the intentions behind allowing God back into schools, but as an individual who feels religion is private affair, I wouldn't want it in my school. Not as a student, not as an educator. The last thing I want to do is be insensitive to my students' individual religious beliefs; the last thing I want is to be involved in a oppressive environment in my classroom. 

Furthermore, I have a problem with the rhetoric itself. The phrasing used is troublesome for me, and I'm amazed people who are more religious than I am haven't noticed. "God isn't allowed in our schools" is a phrase I wouldn't think the devout should be able to say with a straight face, but they do. An all powerful being, whose omnipotence far exceeds the limitations of our collective intelligence, should not be concerned with not being allowed anywhere. Indeed, the faithful should carry God with them in their hearts, regardless of where they are. It's not like the government has posted signs or erected sensors that block an individuals faith or belief from entering a school building. 

Such rhetoric suggests that God is not all-powerful, and it suggests that the government is attempting to take away religion entirely. It's not, despite what is being said on my Facebook wall. The government is merely attempting to address the changing cultural landscape of our country. I've taught Asian, African, European, and Middle Eastern students, yet I've never felt compelled to ask them to pray with me, or consider the Bible's teachings. That's not my job. I'm not qualified to be a religious leader, nor would I want to be one. And even if I did, I'd be pretty intolerant if I assumed that just because my students reside in the US that they'd want to be preached to by a Christian teacher. Again, that's something best left for church, temple, synagogue, or wherever a student wants to worship.  

Freedom of religion is about allowing individuals to make their own choices; it does not mean one religion can make judgment calls for everyone. The government and public school systems around the country have recognized this. I just wish more would, too.

All of this seemingly random prose leads me to the following conclusion, something many may have said before, but it deserves to be repeated: The social and cultural issues behind the increase in mass shootings are far more complex and deserve more thoughtful responses than simply arming school officials or putting God back into our schools. I suggest a stronger focus on mental health and research into recognizing the potential triggers of such behavior. We desperately need to recognize the pressures that can lead to this kind of destructive and horrific action. I suggest the media, and those who watch the endless cycles of speculation and simplistic problem-solving, to stop focusing on the sensational aspects of such tragedies.

And I suggest we, as a society, stop looking for quick-fix solutions to our problems. Despite the action adventures we love, not all problems can be solved with the firing of gun. Good and evil are not so readily recognizable in real-life. If they were so easily distinguishable, then we could solve our problems with the firing a weapon. How can we really tell if someone is "evil" or not? What if we're wrong in that judgment? The Connecticut shooter, in his own mind, may have made that very same judgment call, completely convinced his actions were justifiable. This is not a justification for actions that are deplorable, but a recognition that our judgments, as individuals and as a society, are sometimes not so clearly thought out as we hope.

The Connecticut victims and their families deserve better. Humanity deserves better.