Moon

"Moon" is a terrific film that begins like a familiar story, but becomes something uniquely different. Director Duncan Jones sets "Moon" up like cabin fever meltdown story in a habitat on the moon, but then takes a surprising turn which throws actor Sam Rockwell into one of the most unique performances of the year. Rockwell plays Sam, an astronaut who lives by himself in a habitat on the moon to supervise the harvesting of a lunar energy source. Sam is nearing the end of his three-year contract when he begins seeing things. For much of the movie the audience is left guessing at what is real and what is illusion. In the end, we receive a highly satisfying answer.

But satisfaction is hardly the aim of this story. "Moon" deals with exploitation of people by a company that is loyal to only its shareholders. In today's world, the idea of putting someone on moon by himself for three years more than borders torture, but does not seem like much of a stretch given our dissatisfaction with fuel prices. Sam's relationship with a robot named Gerty, his only companionship in the habitat, provokes interesting discussion about the nature of humanity when juxtaposed with the apparent neglect from the humans on earth.

"Moon" features a fresh, exciting story and a touching performance from Rockwell. It is also terribly ominous as we face issues like inhumane treatment and torture within in the United States and grapple with the task finding new sources of energy.

"Stranger Than Fiction" *Major Spoilers*

Do not read this article if you wish for the plot of "Stranger Than Fiction" to remain secret. I figure that since the movie is now three years-old it is now safe to discuss the plot. I could give you the gist of the movie and leave you with some idea of whether or not you might like it without divulging the story's details, but those details are necessary in revealing what makes this movie such a success.

"Stranger Than Fiction" should be required viewing material for any aspiring writer, filmmaker, or producer of any media, not because of excellence in craft (it is nothing extraordinary in that department), but because of its powerfully relevant metaphor of an artist's responsibilities.

Will Ferrell plays Harold Crick, a middle-aged IRS agent who lives every day on a meticulous schedule. One day he hears a voice narrating his every move to him, and very accurately. The voice is merely a nuisance to Harold until it predicts his death. With the help of a Literature Professor, played by Dustin Hoffman, Harold discovers that the voice he hears is the voice of Karen Eiffel, an author who always ends her stories with the protagonist's death. Harold, with his IRS resources, tracks down Karen and confronts her. It turns out that Karen is in the process of writing a novel about Harold Crick, a character she believed to be fictional. She is also trying to find the perfect way to kill Harold in her story.

After meeting each other, Harold and Karen are both convinced that if she finishes the story with Harold's death, Harold will die in real life. Karen discovers the perfect way to kill Harold and gives him a handwritten ending of the story (before typing it in her typewriter, making it official). Harold gives the ending to the professor who tells him that it's the perfect story. He urges Harold to let Karen use that ending because it would be the most poetic ending, even if it means Harold's death. After reading the ending, Harold gives Karen his blessing, agreeing that the end is perfect.

SPOILER. After a series of events we find Harold lying in a hospital bed: battered, bruised, and very much alive. Karen brings the finished story to the professor, complete with her updated ending. The professor tells her that story is okay, but not the masterpiece that it was when Harold died. You know what? Karen is okay with it.

We live in an age where the stories we are told (movies, books, television) and the stories we participate in (video games) are full of sex, drugs, and violence. Children are conditioned to think that promiscuous sex can be romantic, alcohol can be a gateway to romance, and those who use guns and swords to solve their problems are heroic. Is it any wonder that rape, suicide, and murder are so rampant? The worst part is that the storytellers bear no responsibility for their actions. With their First Amendment rights, they will never be forced to leave those certain elements out of their stories, but they can choose to leave them out. Use Karen Eiffel as an example. She chose protecting a human being over writing a great story. Even if a story can be told more poetically with sex or violence, is it worth it? Is it worth being told at all? At whose expense is art gaining merit? The children of the world face enough tribulations as it is and deserve some real heroes to look up to. Even if it means they won't be quite as entertained. Are innocent lives the price we pay to make art?