Nasty funhouse of horrors

 GREMLINS (1984)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The story of a picture postcard town that is already coming apart during the Christmas season before any nasty, destructive gremlins appear sounds like a great concept for a horror-comedy. That is the essence of Joe Dante's cruelly mischievous Christmas monster movie that is more monstrous than sweet, more jokey with in-joke references galore than moralistic or safe. I am all for that but "Gremlins" was not for the kids of 1984 - today, this movie would sit comfortably next to most of what passes for PG-13. Its nearly savage violence of 40 years ago would now be considered less than a threat or a problem - have we all become immune to violence in cinema or is the world more violent than it ever was? That's neither here or there because "Gremlins" (produced by Steven Spielberg and written by Chris Columbus) is not evocative of the real world but there are implied notions that something is already not safe in this seemingly safe little town.

Billy Peltzer (Zach Galligan) is a bank teller who is practically supporting his family, which includes his failing inventor of a dad (Hoyt Axton) and his occasionally doleful mother (Frances Lee McCain). They live in a house in Kingston Falls (obvious shades of Bedford Falls) with a needy dog and various colorful neighbors namely Mr. Futterman (Dick Miller), an unemployed Noodle factory worker now driving a snow plow for cash, and the nasty, greedy Mrs. Deagle (Polly Holiday) who wishes to foreclose everyone's home (the reasons are more explicitly stated in the DVD deleted scenes). Billy has an interest in a cute bank teller, Kate (Phoebe Cates), and eventually works up the nerve to ask for a date. In the midst of all this, Daddy Peltzer buys a Mogwai (in Cantonese, it means "demon"), a furry little animal with big ears, from an antique shop in Chinatown. The purchase is made with three warnings which we all should know by now: "Don't get them wet" (they will reproduce), "Don't get them near bright lights" and, lastly, "do not feed them after midnight." The last one never made sense - what if the rule was to never feed them chicken which they devour with voracious delight in one close-up scene. 

All three rules are naturally broken. What starts out as a fanciful fantasy movie on the order of "E.T." becomes a hellish horror movie with a bloody stain. The Mogwai reproduce and some of them, not our furry hero "Gizmo," eat after midnight after tricking Billy and metamorphosize into icky "Alien"-like cocoons, thus becoming ferocious, pop-culture minded green-skinned, lizard-like, evil gremlins (sans fur except for one who sports a white stripe on his head) who love watching "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs"! The violence is turned up to 11 when Momma Peltzer stabs a gremlin, throws one into the mixer and another into a microwave where the wicked creature blows up! That is just the family kitchen mayhem; then the malevolent creatures continue their brutality in the living room and Billy arrives and decapitates one of them with a sword! We also get the gremlins giving the stereotypically money-loving Mrs. Deagle the ride of her life! Traffic lights are messed with and those little critters even do a little Christmas caroling. Oh, and the poor science teacher who does experiments on one of the Mogwai gives new meaning to the phrase, "Don't bite the hand that feeds you." 

What is fascinating if still given short-shrift is how people survive in this town - many of them are unemployed and about to face foreclosures on their homes (some of this figures into the plot of another Spielberg production, "The Goonies"). One mother with two kids (Belinda Balaski, a Dante regular) pleads with Mrs. Deagle to wait for their mortgage payment and she is humiliated by that real-estate snake. As aforementioned, Billy's parents do not work - Papa Peltzer goes on cross-country trips to push his inventions which includes the famous Bathroom Buddy (he even gets the idea that the Gizmo could become a Peltzer pet). Mr. Futterman is also struggling and hates gremlins, and the guy who owns a bar, Dorry (Kenny Davis), lets Kate work for nothing. Kingston Falls is about to level and disappear from existence so they are somewhat doomed already. By the end, you might think that the Gremlins' rampage actually helps lift the town out of its doldrums, sort of. 

"Gremlins" is a nasty funhouse of horrors though portions of it can go a long way. Director Joe Dante maybe shows too much of the gremlins in scenes at a bar where they drink merrily, shoot each other, breakdance and even expose themselves to Kate, the bartender working for free. It is curious how quickly the Gremlins infrequently speak and are savvy with their pop-culture references - where the hell did they learn them from? Watching them mimic playing poker and Humphrey Bogart makes one wonder if somehow this referential input came from Gizmo who inadvertently birthed all these creatures. Still, "Gremlins" is wicked, unrelenting fun and a little nasty (Gizmo held against a wall while darts are flung at him could give one nightmares) but still somewhat upbeat in its mannered look at a homely town terrorized by unfazed, unremorseful creatures. Billy wants to keep Gizmo despite the very violent Christmas Eve night and it takes a kind, wise Chinese gentleman (Keye Luke) to teach them all a lesson. He owns Gizmo, understands him and speaks his language and cares for him. We could all learn from him. 

Proletarian despair

RIFF-RAFF (1991)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I love to see films about the working class and the strictures and hardships of maintaining a living under rough conditions. Director Ken Loach has made two films about the London working class that I've seen and admired, "Raining Stones" and now "Riff-Raff." Both films use a documentary style, a mere observation of such people without doing anything fancy with art-direction or elongated camera moves. If there was art-direction done, then I didn't see it because everything feels and looks real enough to be called a gritty expose of former Prime Minister's Margaret Thatcher's England.

Expensive condominiums are being built and laborers are needed. Robert Carlyle is Stevie, a homeless former thief and ex-con who finds work with a construction company that has no union and where the boss could care less about the working conditions (a faulty scaffold figures prominently throughout the story). The crew helps Stevie find a home in an abandoned flat that they simply break into (this is fascinating because no police is ever called onto this environment, as if squatting was just an expected way of life). Stevie forms a friendship with Larry (Ricky Tomlinson, who also starred in "Raining Stones"), a worker who makes speeches about the state of the proletariat and naming (rightfully) Thatcher as the one who should take the blame, stressing that everyone deserves a home (Very timely, to this day). Tomlinson was, by the way, an actual laborer (a plasterer) and worked in the very same conditions displayed here. 

Meanwhile, Stevie finds a purse within all the construction debris and returns it to its owner, Susan (Emer McCourt), a wannabe singer who's often booed at clubs unless she sings a Beatles tune. Their relationship is the most concrete in "Riff-Raff" and one that is not likely to last. They move in together yet Stevie can't embrace much hospitality from her or elicit any real emotions. His description of the hellish relationship he had with his heroin-addicted brother will leave you haunted and sad. 

"Riff-Raff" is rough going at times and some dialogue (thick Scottish accent in particular) is unintelligible to this Spanish-born reviewer (there is a theatrical version with subtitles but the version I saw, I had to turn on the subtitles and rewind back for some of the jokes, which are somewhat funny). One standout scene has Larry bathing in the newly built bathroom of this condo until he's discovered by buyers, mostly Muslin women - it is hilarious and in keeping with the film's theme of the proletariat trying to have a taste of how the wealthy live. Another scene features Larry complaining about the working conditions to the boss and is promised improvements, which results in him getting fired. That is what I love about Ken Loach's approach to the material - swinging between humor and grit while maintaining the unforgivable realities. 

"Riff-Raff" is not perfect but it certainly is raw and humorous (the ending is literally explosive). You get a good sense of how these workers are treated and how they treat themselves in the wake of such despair. Loach doesn't offer hope, just a gripping sense of a world that barely gets much press. I'll say this much - it made me glad that I have a job and a home. 

Long iceberg of guilt

 THE BANSHEES OF INISHERIN (2022)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"I am an Irish Catholic and I have a long iceberg of guilt" 

                                                        - Irish novelist Edna O'Brien

In the miserable fictional island of Inisherin, off of the coast of the extraordinarily beautiful landscape of Ireland, there is nothing to do other than drink a pint and, well, read? There are the rocky beds off the beaten paths leading to one farmhouse in the distance after another. Guilt seems to exist but only on the periphery of anyone's mind - you feel guilty? Drink a pint. Such is the case with the blackly funny and tremendously evocative and intimate film about people in the Irish community of Inisherin, "The Banshees of Inisherin," which is set in 1923 right around the end of the Irish Civil War. 

One of the dullest men in Inisherin is Pádraic Súilleabháin (Colin Farrell), a very nice, easygoing farmer with cows and a precious donkey wearing a bell that always enters the home. Pádraic lives with his sister, the feisty Siobhán (Kerry Condon), who longs for a way out of Inisherin and can't stand having the donkey in the house. Pádraic frequents the local pub every day and discovers that his best friend, Colm (Brendan Gleeson), no longer likes him. Colm is not dying or anything that grave that would explain his sudden remove from him - he just finds Pádraic dull. Of course, everyone is dull in this island yet Colm finds that his fiddle playing and musical compositions will be long remembered just like Mozart's, instead of being remembered for being "nice." Pádraic can't stand the fact that this has happened, and the film's running gag is that Pádraic keeps running into Colm. At first, it is just comedic and borderline pathetic but then it becomes deadly serious to the point that Colm threatens Padraic by cutting one of his own fingers and throwing it at Pádraic's front door! Surely that pathetic man who milks cows will learn to leave Colm alone. Not so fast.

"Banshees of Inisherin" would've been welcome and entrancing viewing had it just been about Pádraic and Colm yet it also focuses on Siobhán, a spinster of sorts who needs a life away from the coast, the people and especially the eldest resident of this overcast, gloomy island, Mrs. McCormick (Sheila Flitton) who portends doom between Colm and Pádraic. Siobhán finds a job at a library away from the mainland - it is her freedom that leaves everyone else behind, some of whom are tormented by their own self-imposed guilt (the constable who beats his own son is one such person). 

Colin Farrell has never been better - an actor I've had reservations about in the past but this role of the nice Pádraic and his killer Penguin role from "The Batman" makes 2022 his best year ever. Brendan Gleeson carries the weight of his indifferent Colm in his whole manner of being - he aims high for the creation of art yet friendship to anyone, and the loss of his precious appendages, has to take a backseat. Kerry Condon is the sympathetic sister who can be fierce and will not tolerate her brother's inability to stand up for himself - hard to believe this is the same actress from the TV series "Better Call Saul." 

I always love Irish stories and "The Banshees of Inisherin" is one I will not soon forget. The intense drama and conflict amongst these lost souls is etched in every frame and is adroitly handled by director Martin McDonagh ("In Bruges"), in direct contrast with the staggering landscape which portends its own doom. The unapologetic sense of guilt from Colm, Pádraic and Siobhán will persist, a long iceberg of it. 

Heaven on our minds

 JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR (1973)

An Appreciation by Jerry Saravia

The "Jesus Christ Superstar" double LP soundtrack album with astounding photo stills from the 1973 film production was one of my fondest memories from the 1970's, and it was the first major musical I adored and revisited and listened to over and over. The film itself always seemed more obscure than the album to me and, when I saw the film during that period, it struck me with its electric energy and even more energetic songs that pulsated and rocked with such verve that their lyrics never quite escaped me. 2023 will be the 50th anniversary of this film and, though I can't say I remember the Tim Rice lyrics with the same clarity I once did, I still was put in that ethereal groove I felt back then watching yet again. 

I am not sure it is the best musical ever made but it is the most emotionally sound, heartbreakingly memorable musical I've ever seen. It is so memorable that I can't imagine this fervent rock opera working in any other way other than being sung yet it strangely never feels like the heartfelt lyrics are being sung, rather they are being performed with the soulful purpose of reaching out to the most jaded person and making it a spirited spiritual experience the likes of which I have not seen since. The atmosphere of its Israeli surroundings with its rocky formations, mountainous regions, outside temples with just a few barren columns and cave dwellings with a single shaft of light makes everything breathe cinematically - there are no fabricated stages with sunlit or sunset backgrounds colored in. Everything in this film feels real and in the spur of the moment as if we just happened to catch these Biblical figures in action while the story of Christ unfolds. 

Sure, there may be minute flaws. Perhaps Ted Neely as a passive, shouting Messiah is not everyone's cup of tea though his anger at the money changers in the temple is understandable. The modern day trappings of Roman guards with machine guns aimed at the Apostles, who look like hippies wandering in from Woodstock, may strike some as anachronistic though levelling such a charge at the film is silly when you see they are all actors arriving by bus from the start and putting on a helluva show. There is also a comical showstopper that teeters on the edge of burlesque with Josh Mostel's flamboyant King Herod. But these are such trivialities because the whole film is a towering spiritual experience that will likely make you appreciate Jesus Christ so much more. Between Carl Anderson's Judas as the betrayer with a far sympathetic soul than we have seen before to Yvonne Elliman's amazingly transformative Mary Magdalene whose very voice carries such beauty and becalming power to Barry Dennen's somewhat sympathetic yet vicious Pontius Pilate, "Jesus Christ Superstar" also frames director Norman Jewison as one of our best directors of musicals as well having previously directed the rousing "Fiddler on the Roof." It is a shatteringly emotional and deeply electrifying experience and renews one's faith in the power of music as soul-enriching, leaving heaven on one's mind.  

Family unit resonates over Spielberg's early filmmaking days

 THE FABELMANS (2022)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

It has been over 20 plus years now since Steven Spielberg found new ways of involving and engaging his audience without underscoring every moment with tear inducement; that is to say, tearjerking them by manipulation. It is obvious in "E.T. - The Extra-Terrestrial" which might be his first major genuine tearjerker where the tears flow thanks to his astute direction and John Williams' sonic, overpowering score. Yet such manipulation never felt like I was being jerked around (the sole exception is the overstuffed, heavily maudlin "Hook"). "The Fabelmans" is Spielberg's own personal take on his childhood, the dreamer who saw a world of movies below his feet yet it is no tearjerker. "Fabelmans" is Spielberg at his most restrained with a far more reflexive bone in its narrative body - a way of looking in without feeling like you need to be jerked around. It can be frustrating but it is never less than compelling. 

Cecil B. De Mille's "The Greatest Show on Earth" was the young Sammy Fabelman's kid first cinematic attraction and what astounded him was the horrific train collision in that film. This is a different kind of manipulation - jerking us around with action-filled, dramatic scenes. This kid wants to make his newly acquired electric train set to endure the same chaotic crash as seen in the film and the mother, Mitzi (Michelle Williams), wants to film it. It is filmed once, twice, all with different angles. Sammy Fabelman has learned the tools of the trade and the most principle one - an editing strategy. Later on, there are other events that certainly mirror Spielberg's cinematic epics such as a tornado that leads to a scene where a few shopping carts ride by the street in unison - an echo there of Spielberg's remake of "War of the Worlds." Only Sammy is not capturing these moments with a camera, only with his own amazed eyes (and seen from his mother's point of view). There are many moments in Sammy's life that are not captured with an 8mm camera or a 16mm Bolex camera or whatever he can get ahold of. Young Sammy is often witnessing life through his own lens. 

The Fabelmans move from Arizona to California with the quirky, depressed Mitzi wishing her best friend could be with them, referred to as "Uncle" Benny (Seth Rogen, who has never been more lovable on screen). The Fabelman Father (Paul Dano) is on a career path as a computer engineer who goes where the money is, regardless of what the family wants. Mitzi loses control of herself, unable to get out of bed or cook or shop for the family (in all fairness, Mitzi can't wash dishes either because of her piano-playing hands which is why they all eat with paper plates). She misses Benny yet no one is aware of her attraction to him until Sammy discovers the truth through the filmed excerpts of the family's last camping trip. This creates discord between Sammy and Mitzi, and eventually causes the breakdown of the family. In other words, we are seeing the themes of an absent dad and an impending divorce as we often saw in Spielberg's own films (Footnote: it wasn't revealed until very recently that his dad was not the reason for the actual divorce, the mother wanted out and we also see how that plays out here as well).

"The Fabelmans" is not a typical coming-of-age movie but rather a coming-of-age-and-understanding-of-the-family-unit kind of movie. Not that we have not seen the parental discord leading to divorce drama before but this is Spielberg's firsthand account of it, and a lot of times it felt more raw than sentimental, more nakedly emotional and understated than manipulative. The scenes of a seeming familial bliss and the emotional turmoil that follows are nothing new either but they are adapted very strongly (Sammy's sisters get their scenes in there as well). Michelle Williams is something of a revelation as Mitzy, a woman fighting her depression for wanting to be with the man she loves yet still maintaining her love for her children (don't be shocked if she wins Best Actress Oscar). Paul Dano is more straight-arrow than I've ever seen before and does a commendable job as the busy father, Burt, who doesn't approve of his son's filmmaking skills as anything other than a hobby. I also found Gabriel LaBelle quite appealing and honest as our future popular film director who stands up for himself and sees a future in filmmaking, especially in knowing how his audience of friends and family react to them. The scene where he convinces his dad that the passion for the work they do is similar is exemplary. Even more gratifying is a powerful cameo by Judd Hirsch as an actual uncle who warns Sammy that art will supersede family, it always does ("You love this more.")

Still, something nagged me about "The Fabelmans" - it left me feeling a little cold despite how absorbed I was by it. The movie is Spielberg's most confined, most closed-off film in terms of emotions and perhaps I was not expecting that from the Spielman. The emotions are apparent yet they are far-reaching - you kind of have to reach from within yourself to grasp what is at stake with the Fabelmans. In many ways, this is Spielberg aiming more for the reserved, cooly depicted emotions of John Cassavetes (the astounding image of Mitzi in front of a car's headlights as she dances to her heart's content reminded of Gena Rowlands, Cassavetes' wife). That is not to say I was not moved by the film but I still felt at a bit of a remove from it - it is more moving in reflection than while you are watching it. Spielberg has been more reserved with emotional climaxes for the last twenty years or so, finding restraint to be his mantra. It is a film of measured resonance and we never quite feel the flight of fancy of Sammy's triumph of spirit over making movies as his camera slowly becomes the observer and not just a spectacle imagemaker - he feels joy only towards the end after meeting the eyepatch-wearing director of westerns, John Ford. Is Spielberg suggesting that he felt no exultation from his early filmmaking days? Still, I came away with a better understanding of Spielberg's loving family unit than his filmmaking obsession. Maybe Spielberg is suggesting that he was not as obsessed over the art form as he was over his mother's happiness and finding it was all too difficult since he couldn't comprehend complex adult emotions. The last scene between mother and son is not captured with Sammy's film camera (he does show her the film of her private moments with Benny early on) but instead Spielberg's - as I stated earlier, Sammy is not filming every moment of his life. Maybe it is Spielberg's attempt at understanding himself. I just came away with a better understanding of his mother.

Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody has been Ruined

GOING CLEAR: SCIENTOLOGY AND THE PRISON OF BELIEF (2015)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia 

The real question in "Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief" is if Scientology is a religion or a cult, or both. I would say both, but I beg to differ that it is much of a religion. Alex Gibney's forceful, scarily provocative documentary "Going Clear" sees Scientology as a tax-exempt institution of physical and emotional abuse, neglect, and downright stupidity. One can argue that the religion offers comfort for those who want a world of joy and no war, and one can also argue that its stringent methods against those who wish to leave or stay are of a cult of personality.

The late science-fiction author, L. Ron Hubbard (who wrote "Dianetics," the foundation behind Scientology), is depicted as an abusive lout of a man who threatened suicide if his first wife left him. During his tumultuous marriage where he even kidnapped their baby, he decided to create a religion that would be tax-exempt, thus allowing him to charge people high rates for joining the religion, The Church of Scientology (which had its roots in Camden, New Jersey). Eventually, the church grew and expanded to Los Angeles and around the world, attracting many people including celebrities such as John Travolta and the virtual spokesman himself, actor Tom Cruise. 

People who are indoctrinated are subjected to audits where they are interviewed in a therapy session and their emotional responses are measured by an "E-meter." Any traumatic past memories are brought to the table and examined, and re-examined and re-examined, until the subject is free and "clear." What is noteworthy is that, according to actor Jason Beghe, an ex-Scientologist, these audits would continue on and on. When a Scientologist would reach a certain level called an OT level, a briefcase would be deployed containing references to Xenu, the galactic overlord of 75 millions years ago who had brought alien souls to Planet Earth and that humans inhabit their souls, or some such thing. It is what I always thought - aliens have always been here and Tom Cruise is a supernatural alien being indeed.

Based on Lawrence Wright's book, there are sections of "Going Clear" that made me laugh and other moments that made me cringe and feel a tinge of horror. Watching Tom Cruise in an audience of thousands salute a picture of L. Ron Hubbard is both laughable and scary at the same time - what is with this military salute? Even the top-level Scientologists are shown in military uniforms that look like they are ready to conquer Poland. Ex-top-level Scientologist Marty Rathbun explains the torment he had to suffer by the hand of David Miscavige (the current leader), how he had to spy on the SP's (Suppresive Persons, those who leave and criticize the religion), set Tom Cruise up with a girlfriend (that remains the creepiest episode) and even tap Nicole Kidman's phone! Most telling is writer-director Paul Haggis ("Crash") who had been a member for 35 years yet when he learned of the mythology surrounding it, he laughed and could not take it seriously. Still, during those 35 years, how long did it take to reach that OT level where you say, "What in God's name is going on here?" 

"Going Clear" has already been deemed as anti-Scientology propaganda by, you guessed it, spokespersons of the Scientology movement (no current members were interviewed for the documentary). But it is hard to believe that ex-Scientologists, who have decided to take a stand and inform the public of this pseudo-religion, are untrustworthy or have an ax to grind. How can one disbelief that members perform menial jobs for 40 cents an hour? How can one disbelief that people who leave the religion are spied on, and for what purpose exactly? How can one disbelief that Travolta and Cruise are two superstar celebrities who are in too deep to ever just willingly walk away, thanks to endless audits that are far too personal and possibly damaging to their reputations? One aspect I walked away with from this stunningly edited and extremely eerie documentary is that if you are going to start a religion, make sure you fight tooth and nail to keep the IRS out of your backyard. The war is over for them, but the war on this most damaging religion has just begun. That, and now this film has ruined Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" for me. 

No Free Ride

 TO WRITE LOVE ON HER ARMS (2012)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

A movie about a young woman cutting herself to feel something, or to escape from her own fake reality, might be not be fitting for average viewers. I always preferred Roger Ebert's truthful statement about cinema where the most depressing movie is usually a bad one. Surprisingly, for a gritty independent film, "To Write Love On Her Arms" is not a depressing movie and hardly an unremittingly bleak one. It is not exactly upbeat but it does have the spunky attitude of Kat Dennings to carry the movie on her shoulders and give it a piercing heart. 

Based on the true story of Renee Yohe and the global movement her story spurred, Dennings tackles the Renee role, playing a woman who has two close, devoted friends, Jesse and Dylan (Juliana Harkavy and Mark Saul) who watch over her. Sometimes, Renee is sucked into the world of partying with people who do not have her best interests at heart. She ingests cocaine, ecstasy and imagines a creative world where a drug dealer is sprouting wings! She envisions wondrous sights and has pastoral visions and imagines high-school students dancing and singing along to her favorite songs - any and everything to demolish her inner demons. Renee is sometimes photographed as an princess with a glow to mask her darkness, and other times she is reclusive, hiding beneath her hoodie and her headphones in a cold, brutal harsh world. 

"To Write Love on Her Arms" eventually segues into the rehab world where Renee has to struggle with ending her drug addictions and making the right choices. Can she lift herself up from her doldrums, from her inability to cope with what's gnawing at her? Remarkably, and thankfully, the movie never settles on a resolution nor is she willing to accept that her story should have initiated a movement. Jamie Tworkowski (played with a winsome beat by Chad Michael Murray) sees Renee as a dominant force that others can look up to. He writes a blog about her story and a movement is born. In a tricky and powerful scene, we see Renee's confusion after getting out of rehab and seeing Jamie again who now has a girlfriend - one surmises that she hoped for a romantic relationship with Jamie. The scene does not end the way we expect - Kat Dennings consistently keeps us on our toes and we hope she doesn't keep injuring herself when things don't go her way.

The film ably swings from dark tones to far darker recesses of Renee's fantasy world (she imagines cracks forming in her bedroom mirror) to a supposedly sunnier disposition, at least visually when Renee is shown in sun-drenched, rosier images. Dennings starts to look less inhibited and less willing to hide from herself but these are still baby steps. Swiftly directed by Nathan Frankowski, the film never sugarcoats rehab or addiction. When Renee can't work up the enthusiasm to read emails from those who have suffered like her, she is more willing to help another recovering addict, David (Rupert Friend), a stressed-out band manager who lets her stay in his loft provided she stays clean for five days prior to rehab entry. The heartbeat and soul of "To Write Love On Her Arms" is that a recovering addict with bipolar disorder has looked outward as well inward. Renee develops compassion and freedom and it isn't a free ride. 

"To Write Love On Her Arms" occasionally preaches its message with religious underpinnings. Dennings makes it down-to-earth and real. It is a struggle for the movie, but definitely a struggle we can stand to hear about more often.