A great heap of 'Ben Hur' spoilers

Having watched both versions of Ben Hur, I hereby opine.

Spoilers ahead, be warned. Seriously, if you have not watched both versions, go away. You do not qualify to read this article.

For the rest of us, we the elders, we will be both thrilled and also a bit saddened by the remake.

Whereas the first movie was not as much of a visual feast, its strength was in the depth of the characters and their development through the plot. The actors carried the story, and the screenplay had a rustic charm to it.

The latest epic cuts away at the melodrama and emphasises action. It is an easier movie to follow for this generation, but we elders will delight in its brusque pace and varied, vivid drama.

My main grievance with it was an opportunity the remake opted out of in their editing of the plot. Granted the remake vividly portrays the perils of galley slavery and of the circus and of army life and of preaching the gospel. Pretty convincing. But they had the master of the galley die, rather than be saved by Ben Hur (who else) and subsequently adopting him and taking part in a victorious Roman triumph through the streets of Rome. A grand procession. They pulled it off regally in the first movie. But the second does away with that whole arc of the story, that landmark scene, simply striking it off the plot as if it never happened and dunking a key character in the Sea never to resurface. Government please reestablish finishing schools for the public good. Bypassing a Roman triumph, huh. "Nothing to see here, let's go on with the story," huh. Who does that? All the enemies of art, literature, poetry and film could not have conjured up a more sinister design.

Alright that part with Pontius Pilate marching his army into Jerusalem adds a ton of clarity, with the armored Roman ranks chanting and singing rude songs as they went, and the locals angrily staring from the safety of their roofs, none willing to acknowledge the invading foreign occupier with more than a quiet, hateful stare, that was tense. And that hothead Zealot with a bow and arrow (in the second) was a forceful character, possessed with his mission, a bigger threat to Pontius Pilate's life than a few loose roofing tiles simply obeying the laws of gravity (in the first). That procession had an entirely different attitude, however, to a Roman triumph, the emperor's lavish party for the Roman army and people.

A plus, the character of Jesus plays a more prominent role in the second film's events and the Biblical records being woven together poignantly. At the end of the movie, Jesus is the hero. That's a major plus in my opinion.

Also, the character depicted by the wife of Ben Hur portrays the ideal Christian wife.

But who do you know who blatantly ignores a chance to recreate and depict a Roman triumph? Did the film budget really call for such brutality?

But I recommend the movie. Both versions. Try stay awake through the first before you lose your mind chasing the second, and if you succeed in this marathon challenge, lunch will be on me.

Drawing Lines

Let us temporarily move our minds beyond the alleged tradeoff between being single and lonely, or being in a relationship and bored. (Admittedly it is debatable.)

Putting that aside, I have a theory. Single people tend to be rigid in their opinions. Once they've made up their own mind, that's it. On the other hand, being in a relationship compels one to be flexible and open minded to a certain extent, in order to accommodate the other's opinions, tastes and preferences. 

This reality opens one up to all sorts of compromises that one would have never otherwise contemplated. Commonly referred to as "love conquers all," we have all seen the phenomenon of lovers ditching ideological stances, personal principles and even entire religions in the name of love.

It has happened to me enough times. For example, my taste in music and choice of viewing have been significantly influenced by exes, friends, the company I keep. On my own I am cautious of being seduced by pop culture. Even certain so-called "gospel music" don't cut it no more, mostly I'd rather let my thoughts soar through silence and naturally occurring ambient noises. If something "hot" comes up, you will catch me scowling at the screen moments before I change the channel or switch it off altogether. But put me on even the most casual setting with an acquaintance and the pop music will eventually bob my unwilling head as the visuals charm my hypnotized eyes. At long last all resistance is laid in the dust and the old joints will bust spontaneous moves.

I for one have resolutely taken the extreme view: unless I meet someone who is as strict (or stricter) about what they allow themselves to listen to or watch, guarding my own mind will be a losing battle. Since two shall become one, be not unequally yoked. Compromise must come with relationships indeed: however certain lines must be drawn as mutually inviolable or else two can not walk together.

How I Accumulated Years of Useless Experience

My not-so-illustrious CV ought to include vast experience as a truck driver, a counter-terrorism agent, fighter pilot, multiple title-winning soccer team player-manager, alien-invasion repeller, professional wrestler and victorious commander of medieval armies. I have also moonlighted as a gambler, assassin, illegal street racer, armed carjacker, and crime lord; all these I should list under "Hobbies" in the relevant section of my humble CV. And I have the high scores and save game files to prove it. 

I speak of the computer games I've played, which allowed me to "live a different life," so to speak. Yet for all my experience, I do not qualify to be called a Hardcore Gamer. It puzzles me how much vicarious role-playing one must endure before the title is earned. Consider; I was there grappling with keyboards when Dangerous Dave and Super Mario were competing for supremacy; I saw 3D games evolve into a big deal right before my eyes. Extended periods of my high school weekends were devoted to multiplayer games with and against fellow obsessed gamers. We often skipped meals playing. Yet I still don't qualify for hardcore.

Games are but one symptom in the epidemic of immersive entertainment. They are so immersive that one will spend hours, days, on a game they don't even like, just to prove that they can best the computer. Even the most straight-laced upstanding member of society will not challenge a game's morality or inspect it too closely while playing. Once the objective is stated as "kill the target" and the target is indicated as a blip on the map in one corner of the screen, off goes the model citizen on murderous misadventures. "After all, it's a game," reasons the player, "it's not me who's killing really, it's the game's fictional persona." Such false distinctions are dangerous to keep in the mind, even subconsciously.

Immersive entertainment for all its intensity leads to loss of subtlety. Behold the gratuitous violence and the extravagant display in the movies and music videos of today. Fast-paced action, eye-catching visuals, ever more colorful language to be heard in surround-sound. The problem with such entertainment is the law of diminishing returns: more exposure desensitizes the viewer, so that next time they will require a more extreme stunt, a more extravagant plot. Better graphics, bigger explosions, bloodier bloodshed, dirtier language. Shortly we find ourselves eagerly waiting for the next instalment of Resident Evil. "It's just a movie, just camera tricks, no one really dies!" Thus are we willingly complicit in our own deception.

Warlike Thoughts

I savored the rare privilege of watching a World War II documentary. It strove to recreate the keynote events of the war through the memoirs of the soldiers and civilians who lived (many who died) through it all.

Unsurprisingly, the program reproduced the usual obfuscations to obscure the real motivations behind the war. Someone needs to teach us some real history. Another big failure of the program was the tendency to minimize the “gore” of war, for example by giving D-Day a relative whitewash, a mere mention. Which serious review of World War II can afford to ignore D-Day? to Photoshop the events of Normandy? FAIL.

However, despite its shortcomings, the documentary made an effective, full-color exposition of one fact: “War is a dirty ugly rotten business.” That was a quote of one young American soldier fighting in the Pacific "theatre". Another wondered what he, a farm boy from the American heartland, was doing thousands of miles away from home, killing Japanese.

Death and destruction stood out vividly the footage of blitzed London, ruined Stalingrad, burning German cities, firebombed Berlin. Makes you wonder what could possibly justify so much desolation.  

I’m not the only nut on the internet predicting dark days ahead, and I’m not pulling it out of my socks either. If World War III is gonna happen (highly likely soon), then, judging by the way WWII went… let’s just say we have a problem.

Nollywood

On screen, someone is agonizing loudly about something, and rolling on the ground in obvious pain as his hand clutches his midsection. Out of nowhere, a laughing spirit pops into the scene in a spectacular haze of cheap camera tricks, and it’s not clear if anything is that funny but it is laughing hard and eye-balling everyone and everything at the same time, to say nothing of ashy-looking skin, general awkwardness of bearing, and absolute shabbiness of clothing (Spirits don’t have swag.) After laughing and goofing off for a while, it shoots sparks, strobes, rays, lasers and fireballs out of its eyes and these things go and somehow kill the sufferer, whose gut reaction in the circumstances is to reach for own neck and thrash about rather vigorously. The spirit screams a high pitched laugh and disappears. Camera zooms in to the dead person’s bloodied face (Blood? How come?) and the music is supposed to portray that justice has been done because the soloist in the moralizing soundtrack is repeatedly laying stress on the chorus in this the climax of the movie. Viewers must now tolerate a full five minutes of the dead person being exhibited as the camera pans left and right between his eyes as if to search for signs of life. None, he’s the deadest man there ever was. Good. Screen blacks out to a message; “To God be the glory.” Credits roll. Another Nollywood production ends.