God in the cold

Good God almighty, it’s cold.

There are various words to describe extreme cold. But when it’s as brutal as it has been the past few days, I can’t wax poetic. “Cold” is all I can manage. And I’ve been in an even colder place than Chicago the past three days, at a Trappist monastery in Peosta, IA. New Mellaray Abbey is pretty much at the mercy of the climate, and the past few days, the climate has been, well, merciless.

I went to New Mellaray on a pseudo-professional mission, to scope it out and see if it might be a good spot to do an experiential learning course on contemplative spirituality for DePaul students. But more than that, I just personally wanted to go. I’d heard about the Trappists,  and had always been curious to see how it would feel to get up at 3:30 in the morning to start praying the Liturgy of the Hours, and to keep it up at various intervals throughout the day.

I wasn’t crazy about heading out in December, though. The days approaching the winter solstice certainly don’t boast Iowa’s finest weather. I’d rather go in July, when the days are long and I could wander the woods without worrying about frostbite or getting shot by a local deer hunter. And this past weekend when I checked the weather, I was disheartened to see several days when the even the high temperatures weren’t expected to climb out of the single digits. As for the low temps…wait, was that a negative sign? Shudder.

Still, I headed out on Monday and arrived in the early evening, just in time for Vespers, and settled in for three days of huddling away from the bitter cold in a nearly silent space. Once I got going, I was surprised to find that the weather actually worked in my favor. There was no traipsing around outside all day into the evening, finding fun and distracting things in the beauty all around me. I was all but wedged in, just me and my books and my knitting. Turns out, in terms of times and places to contemplate, you really can’t beat the second week of Advent in Iowa. Who knew?

Looking out at the frozen fields, I kept thinking of a song I sang as a kid for a school Christmas pageant, based on a poem by Christina Rosetti:

In the bleak midwinter, icy wind made moan.

Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone.

Iron earth, stony water. Everything was so cold, and so still. I found myself wondering: where was the Holy Spirit, full of heat and fire, in such a stark and frozen place? I wasn’t even thinking symbolically; I was considering the literal consequences of the cold for so many people. By way of some odd twists of fate, lately I’ve had some pretty profound encounters with people who are living on the streets of Chicago. In the midst of those relationships, I find myself feeling differently about the cold. I wonder where they will stay, if they have a place at all. One of my new acquaintances has been ill, in the hospital, and is terrified to stay in a local shelter. He had a really frightening experience there, and doesn’t want to go back. But this kind of cold doesn’t mess around; it’ll kill you. And I’m afraid it will kill my new friend.

The trajectory of the relationship I’ve developed with this man has been a strange journey, for both of us I think. During our first few conversations, I was racked with anxiety and guilt. I wanted to help him, but I didn’t know how. I looked at his problem and wanted to fix it, and when I couldn’t I was ashamed. I felt I had nothing to give him. But here’s the weird thing; once I actually admitted to myself that I had nothing to give, something changed. I went to visit him in the hospital, and sat with him and talked with him, and for the first time it didn’t feel like a burden. He was sharing stories from his life, many of which were truly tragic, and I was listening and empathizing. For the first time, I felt like my presence was actually helpful. More than that, I was glad to be there. I wasn’t enjoying myself, exactly; it was quite a heavy conversation. But I felt like I belonged there. When he told me the most difficult things, I just listened, and didn’t try to talk him out of his sadness. And there was a sense of peace in that, for both of us. That peace has stayed with me since. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still really worried about him. But I also know I can’t fix it, and I just need to keep being present for him in the ways I can.

As I reflected on the whole experience these past few days, particularly in light of Advent, that song kept coming back to me, particularly the verse about the cold. But I found that there was something that resonated from the final verse as well:

What can I give him, poor as I am?…

What I can, I give him. I will give my heart.

It sounds sort of sentimental, I know. But my faith tells me that Christ is present in an exceptional way in the poor, and that I’m called to give what I can to those who are in need. And there’s something liberating, somehow, in knowing that you’ve got nothing to give but your love, and then giving it. I had a little, miniature revelation, I guess, hiding out in my tiny monastic room in a monastery in Iowa in the midst of the brutal cold. Take everything else away, all the obviously beautiful stuff and summery abundance, and you’re left with the bare minimum, in stark relief against the bleak surroundings of all the terrible injustices and tragic circumstances that people face. That bare minimum can’t fix those things. Yet there are these small moments, seemingly insignificant, when somehow, then and there, it’s enough. And those are sacred moments. The Holy Spirit is most definitely there.

Part of me is like, well, duh. Am I really just now coming to some big realization that God becomes apparent in a special way in the bleak coldness of the winter? I mean, that’s pretty much THE ENTIRE POINT OF CHRISTMAS. Apparently Jackie wasn’t paying attention during her many viewings of A Charlie Brown Christmas. But better late than never, I guess. Way back in the day, when I sang “In the Bleak Midwinter” in my choir, I was just a kid and I thought it was pretty. Turns out it was one of so many little snippets that  I was filing away for later use, without even realizing it. It just took a bleak midwinter spiritual landscape for it to come into focus.

For my friend and for all those who are cold tonight…veni sancte spiritus, maranatha.

The Sound of Music Live! part 3: the UTTERLY INSANE

Whee! I saved the fun stuff for last. I definitely wished there had been more completely cracked-out aspects of The Sound of Music Live! Still, there were enough for me to enjoy myself as I shouted at the screen with my friends and complained about the complete ridiculousness of it all. So let’s discuss…

THE UTTERLY INSANE

1. Carrie Underwood’s Wardrobe

You know you’ve got problems when your main character’s best outfit is…wait for it…a nun’s habit. But let me clarify: by “best” I don’t mean “most attractive”: that title goes to the dress she wears when she first arrives at the VonTrapp house. In that scene she looks awesome in a red button-down dress and cute little pumps. Here’s the thing, though–in that scene? She’s supposed to look bad. Multiple characters make explicit mention of the ugliness of her dress. Her stylish frock makes nonsense of the dialogue. To make matters worse, she then takes the material the Captain gives her to make a “nicer” dress, and the resulting outfit makes her look like Swiss Miss on the verge of a nervous breakdown. It’s completely crackballs. Her sleeves are so poofy, they’d give Anne Shirley pause. But even that disaster is utterly eclipsed by her nightmare of a wedding dress. It looks cheap. It doesn’t fit. It has see-through sleeves. (Reverend Mother, you approve of this???) It looks like a frickin’ nightgown. In a word, it’s atrocious. Why the Captain prefers her to the incredibly stylish Baroness in her awesome red pants is a complete mystery that will likely never be solved. 

2. Big song switcheroos

I know that SoML is based on the musical of SoM and not the movie, and therefore it’s going to differ from the movie in significant ways. There are new songs. Other songs are left out. I am fine with this. However, the movie made some changes that make sense, and those definitely should have been adapted. It makes more sense for Maria to sing a song about her favorite things to comfort the children than to bond with RevMom, which is…just kind of weird? And “The Lonely Goatherd” outside the realm of a puppet show is actually pretty boring. It seems to go on forever, and Maria jumping on the bed while the kids have the lamest pillowfight ever doesn’t help matters. GOD, that was bizarre.

3. Transitions, anyone?

Speaking of bizarre…okay, these kids are supposed to be holy terrors to their governesses, right? That’s why they need Maria in the first place, because the Captain can’t keep a governess there. And when they first meet Maria, they’re all haughty and standoffish (except the little ones), just like they are in the movie. But suddenly, without any transition at all, they’re gathered around Maria learning do-re-mi and dancing up and down the stairs. Wait, what? I’m sorry, but if I were a kid and some blond-braided convent-dropout showed up at my front door and suddenly ordered me to sing with her, I’d tell her where to stick her guitar, drop a toad in her pocket, and move on with my life. Which is what the children do in the movie. And then they all get frightened by the thunderstorm, and look to her for comfort, and that breaks the ice. Transitions, writers: they’re your friends.

4. The Captain and the Nazi Sympathizers

This might be terrible of me, but I found it hilarious when the Baroness and Uncle Max sing their songs that essentially extol the virtues of greed and their reasons for not opposing the Nazis, and at some points they actually seem to be convincing the Captain. It’s like he’s a naive teenager about to do something really stupid, and they’re sitting him down and gently telling him what’s what. Enjoy your money! Marry into more money! Assimilate with Nazi thugs! That’s what the grown-ups are doing, and you should trust us and do it too. What’s amazing is that, because the Captain vonBloodsucker is so weak in his role, the Baroness and Uncle Max all but won me over. Which means I was dangerously close to sympathizing with Nazi sympathizers. Which, now that I’m thinking about it, makes me really uncomfortable. 

5. The kids are not alright…at least as a group.

I mentioned in a previous post that several of the kids did a pretty good job on their own with their respective roles. But as a group, they come off as totally cheesy, and sometimes rather creepy. First of all, they clearly have NO idea how to have a proper pillow fight. Some of them can’t march, which is kind of hilarious, considering they’re supposed to do it all afternoon long every day. The curtain clothes in this version are even more hysterical than the last one, especially on the boys; they’re super Laura-Ashley. The scene where they pop their heads out from under Maria’s bed–a bunch of disembodied heads with crazed smiles tilting back and forth in unison–is pretty terrifying. And when they sing and dance together, they just look ridiculous. Given the percentage of the cast that they represent, it pays to have a good group of VonTrapp children. This crew didn’t make the grade.

Okay, I think I’m tapped out. All in all, I’m glad they made SoML, if only because it gave me a great excuse to rant and rave about trivial matters. Some of it was good, most of it was bad, and some of it was unintentionally hilarious. All in all, when you compare it to everything else on television, I guess that makes it above average. So long, farewell, etc.

The Sound of Music Live! part 2: the bad

Now for the negative. My problem with SoML wasn’t that it was bad. It’s that it wasn’t really bad enough, or maybe not in the right way. I was hoping for something along the lines of Mystery Science Theater 3000, so incredibly kitschy that it becomes an unintentional comedy. But that wasn’t the case. Which leads me to my first item on my list of…

THE BAD

1. It wasn’t funny.

Maybe I’m biased, but I think that SoM is a pretty funny movie. Obviously Uncle Max and the Baroness are chock-full of snarky one-liners, but Maria also has her fair share of amusing moments. Remember the pinecone? Her chat with RevMom? Her face when Georg accidentally calls her “Captain”? Speaking of, Captain VonTrapp is delightfully witty in every exchange with the Baroness and with Max, and I absolutely LOVE the moment when the kids are introducing themselves and he has to say Gretl’s name for her. It’s comic gold. Somehow, though, SoML managed to miss any and every chance to be actually funny. When it tried to be funny, it was embarrassing. And while I liked the way the Baroness’s character was reshaped into someone more sympathetic, it really did take away from the dry wit she gave the original. All in all, it was totally flat, and that sucked.

2. Carrie Underwood’s acting

Look, she’s a lovely girl, with a lovely voice, and I’m sure she has all kinds of good qualities. I mentioned in my last post that I admire Carrie Underwood for doing it at all; I’m sure it was absolutely terrifying. But she made an awful Maria. Her acting was empty, her face was blank, she was stiff and unnatural, and she had no real character shape at all. She was just some girl wandering around singing. Maria is actually a really great role, full of spark, charm, goofiness, and even a fair dose of chutzpah. She yells at a naval captain! About his own children! When Julie Andrews does that scene, she bamboozles Georg so much that he actually calls her Captain. When Underwood does it, she’s like a mewling German Barbie doll. To a certain extent, Underwood was going to come up short no matter what she did. There’s no topping Andrews in this role; her performance is perfect, both in her acting and her singing. But Underwood was painfully bad at the acting.

3. Captain VonBloodsucker

I used to work in publishing, and every season the editorial staff had to come up with titles for our upcoming books. Sometimes when we were really struggling to come up with a good title, one of us would offer up something completely off the wall, and we’d all jump on it and say, “That’s so crazy, it’s brilliant!” After a day or so, we’d realize what an awful title it actually was, and we’d start over. That is exactly what I think happened when the casting staff for SoML were trying to pick someone to play Captain VonTrapp…except they didn’t realize their mistake in time. It’s the only explanation for it. How else do you decide to cast VonTrapp as a guy who can’t sing and whose most notable role is playing a sexed-up vampire on HBO? He was terrible. TERRIBLE. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen an actor look so incredibly uncomfortable on television. I wanted to reach through the screen to massage his shoulders, or maybe give him a cup of herbal tea. I know he’s a naval captain, but jeez, even military dudes bend their knees from time to time. This choice of casting literally made me mad. They messed with the Captain! It’s going to take me a while to get over that one.

Those are the only things I found actually unpleasant, though. I’ve saved the cracked-out stuff for my next post, which will be dedicated to the utterly insane aspects of SoML.

The Sound of Music Live! part 1: the good

Anyone near and dear to me knows how much I love the movie The Sound of Music. I can recite every word, sung or spoken, of the entire film. I am far from being alone in this, and therefore am not alone in having FEELINGS about last night’s production of The Sound of Music Live! featuring country star Carrie Underwood. I watched it with friends, ready to hate the whole thing and pepper it with snarky commentary throughout. And I did both of those things…neither as much as I was hoping to, though.

I think the consensus, at least on the Interwebs, is that Carrie Underwood makes for a pretty lousy Maria, and Stephen Bloodsucker is significantly more lively when he’s playing an undead vampire than a fully alive naval captain. I had plenty to complain about throughout. Yet as I ruminate on it the morning after, I have to admit, it wasn’t all bad. In fact, it wasn’t quite bad enough for me to enjoy it as much as I wanted to. As I sort out my feelings (and believe me, I’m feeling ALL THE FEELINGS), I find that they fall into three categories: things I thought were good or could at least appreciate, things I thought were bad that weren’t even fun to make fun of, and things that were hilariously awful. So I’ll take a page from the Reverend Mother’s book of Christian charity, and start with the good stuff.

THE GOOD

1. Doing it live

I’ll admit it: right before it started, when the announcer proclaimed that this was the first live musical television production in fifty years, I got a little excited. The choice to perform SoM live on television was certainly bold, and in my opinion, inspired, at least from a ratings perspective. A pre-recorded remake would have been a mere blip on the screen, something that I might have Hulu’d later, but I probably would have just watched the laughably bad parts on YouTube. But the chance to watch it live? That’s an event, albeit a totally weird and arbitrary one. If Carrie Underwood tripped or forgot her lines or cracked on the high note of “Lonely Goatherd,” I didn’t want to see it in my facebook feed after the fact; I wanted to see it in real time. And as little as I cared for Underwood’s performance (more on that later), I have to give her props for having the cajones to do it at all. Plus, it was actually pretty enjoyable to watch veteran broadway performers like Audra McDonald and Laura Benanti in their element of live performance. For me, at least, doing it live made it better.

2. “Sixteen Going on Seventeen”

The lack of a gazebo threw me a bit, as did the terrible dialogue. Those quibbles aside, though, this number delivered. In the movie, Rolf’s a total drip; SoML Rolf, on the other hand, is pretty dreamy. Great singing, great chemistry, and the dance sequence was head and shoulders above the original. All those lifts and spins! It was like an alpine version of Dirty Dancing. What really sealed it, though, was the kiss. The way they tumbled down the hill in each others’ arms blazed with PG-rated eros. Quite the contrast to the movie version, when after they gallop around like circus performers, Rolf grabs Liesl and plants a closed-mouth smack on her lips with such force it makes my teeth hurt just watching it. SoML Rolf has pretty smooth moves, in more ways than one, and he looks great in liederhosen. It’s a shame he’s a Nazi. Oh, well.

3. Audra McDonald as the Reverend Mother

I always fast-forward through “Climb Ev’ry Mountain” when I watch SoM. I think it’s boring, and weird that some ancient nun is getting all worked up about the passion of married love. I mean, no offense to RevMom, but what does she know about it? She lives in a cloister. But I was looking forward to hearing Audra McDonald sing it last night, and she totally brought it. She succeeded in her role because, unlike most of the other actors, she made something of it. SoML‘s Reverend Mother had a real personality, and it was different from the one in the movie; McDonald made her tougher, saltier, and more passionate. Yeah, it was a little awkward hearing her talk to Maria about how sex is sacred, but I could put up with it. Nice work, Audra! Maybe someday I’ll forgive you for Private Practice.

4. The Baroness

I’m sure other enthusiasts were as disappointed as I was that the BEST LINE IN THE MOVIE was cut: “Why didn’t you tell me to bring my harmonica?” But I’ll allow it, because it made sense to get rid of it. Laura Benanti, like Audra McDonald, transformed the role of the Baroness from snarky sexpot to feisty businesswoman, and while some may have chafed at it, I really liked it. She doesn’t break it off with Georg just because he’s in love with Maria; they’re actually not suited for each other, because she’s a pragmatist and he’s an idealist. There’s some pathos there. And her clothes! Lady wears RED PANTS in the early 1930s. That takes brass.

5. The kids…sort of.

When they were clustered in a group, SoML’s VonTrapp kiddies were pretty creepy, especially when they poked their heads out from under Maria’s bed in “Lonely Goatherd.”  And Friedrich was kind of a freakshow. And Marta was annoying. But there were a number of the kids that did a pretty great job, namely Brigitta, Kurt, Liesl, and appropriately precious Gretl. It was a shame that they didn’t get to act like brats before they warmed up to Maria; I always admired the ingenuity of the pinecone prank. But they worked with what they had. Final tally: four of them were great, two of them were annoying, and nobody knows anything about Louisa. So it’s pretty much on par with the original.

So that’s my charitable response. As for my stronger feelings, they’re coming up next.