#why is protestantism on my screen

[bowenoke]

favorite part of writing a story is when it finally clicks, once you find the core that makes the story work and also worth writing but i named my current wip after The Core of the story and.

[majorbaby]

decided it was as good a night as any to watch MASH (1970). i was going to take detailed notes the way i've been doing during my current rewatch of MASH (TV) but the purpose of that has been so i have stuff to refer back to when creating fanwork. about halfway through the watch i decided it wasn't worth all of that, but i did still make some notes about what i liked and didn't.

the bad

i'm starting with the bad because it had a really big effect on my experience of watching this movie. no need for bullets because it's the one thing, but the one thing is really bad: the misogyny. given, i have a very weak stomach for sexual violence on screen, particularly against women, but like, under no circumstances would i recommend this movie to anyone without a very heavy-handed content warning.

i'd been forewarned against it but i still underestimated how bad it would be. it was cruel and it left such a bad taste in my mouth i don't think i can rewatch, and if i ever do, i'd skip the offending scenes.

don't be fooled by the number of things on my "good" list. i'd trade 'em all for there to be less of the bad.

the good

genuinely touching opening credits. the MASH theme is immortal. beautiful shots of the compound. i'm gushing about it because i've worked in editing/motion graphics and i love a solid title sequence, this is one of the best i've ever seen

this movie hates christianity in general, but distinguishes catholicism from protestantism. i thought that was interesting considering MASH (TV)'s Frank is prejudiced against Catholics, something that is characteristic of a more rigid flavour of white supremacy that racializes people who would normally qualify as white (e.g. Italian and Irish Catholics). pointing out the difference tells me this movie is aware of evangelical christianity being the chief religious influence on American public policy, including foreign policy

this movie really hates the army, it could just stand to do better at hating the ideologies that prop up the army as well

hawkeye will call any man "babe" or "baby"

trapper john and his mysterious parka of assorted sundries

that's another thing. this movie is really gay, which does not absolve it of its sins

"Captain Pierce, did you call me?" "No, my name is Hawkeye"

Mclean's Henry Blake is way more likeable than movie Henry Blake, but the similarities are all there

i need to talk about the tone of this movie. so going back to the title sequence, part of the reason i like it so much is because it perfectly establishes the tone of the entire movie. larry gelbart once said that the title sequence to MASH (TV) "prepares you for what you are about to watch" and while I agree with that statement completely, I think it's doubly true of its film counterpart. there's this melancholy feeling that persists throughout the whole movie. kind of depressing tbh, despite how boisterous and silly the events on screen can get. there's a lot of mood lighting, quiet conversations. outside it's eternally overcast. when i think of it and compare it to MASH (TV) I understand why Robert Altman hated the show so much. tonally, it's completely different. when you hear the japanese cover of "happy days are here again" in the movie, it feels especially ironic, rather than lighthearted as it can be on MASH (TV). "my blue heaven" sounds even darker. but inspite of the gloom that pervades the movie, it's never quite as tragic as the objectively tragic moments on MASH (Bless You Hawkeye, GFA, Sometimes You Hear the Bullet, Guerilla My Dreams etc). the ending really nails that sad, but not too sad vibe.

once again, oliver jones is the hottest surgeon at the 4077th

elliott gould is a close second

trapper and hawkeye are in love... to everyone's peril. gay wrongs. so many gay wrongs in this movie.

did you think i was done talking about how in love trapper and hawkeye are in this? hawkeye, trapper and duke are supposed to be something of a trio in this movie, but as soon as trapper arrives duke is third-wheeling constantly. hawkeye says to trapper when he meets him, "do i know you from somewhere?" and a slow smile spreads across trapper's face later, while tossing around a football, hawkeye catches a pass from trapper and recognizes him by it as trapper does a slow walk towards hawkeye with his hands in my pockets good god, be still my piercintyre loving heart: trapper: [describing a pass] lucky your mouth wasn’t open or it would’ve got stuck in your throat hawkeye: baby! why it’s trapper john mcintyre!

we are never having the casual sex on MASH debate ever again, hawkeye settled it in this movie: (the) lieutenant dish: hawkeye, you have to remember, i’m married hawkeye: i’m married. i’m happy. i love my wife. if she was here, i’d be with her dish: i’m very happily married hawkeye: there is no question to loving anybody, it is a question of only helping.

[humanitysteeped-blog]

Growing Up Godly:

A few months after my seventeenth birthday I made a video for my parents. I mostly made it for my mom because I didn't think my Dad would really react to it. I used all the pictures from their honeymoon and wedding. I layered it with emotional transitions and movement affects. I used all my moms favorite songs from her youth. My mom love 70's music. I think even today 70's music isn't dead in New Orleans yet. It's 2017. I think New Orleans was just really good in the 70's and 80's so it stayed there, stuck in time for awhile. It's just starting to change in great ways but for me and my family the older stuff represents a nostalgia that is linked to every great time we've had as a family. And those songs have been present through the generations, linking all our great memories to great memories that half of us weren't even present for. When my mom watched it she teared up. I get a lot of pleasure out of sharing things with people that make them happy. I felt fulfilled that I had done something nice for my mom. Seventeen year-old me was still very devoted to pleasing my mother. I wasn't gay yet, I worked 60 hours a week. I ran my parents restaurant with them in an experienced, efficient way to make my parents proud of the little martyr that had forgone all worldly experiences to become a man far sooner than most seventeen year olds. Still, the cold nature of my parents inspired me to keep pleasing and fighting for their affection because it was so fleeting. My slideshow was a successful anniversary gift for my parents. Having turned to extreme forms of Protestantism when I was twelve, my parents had verbally shunned their worldly past and only allowed things that were deemed "godly" into their lives. Reformed Baptists, they called themselves. For my mom the exception to the rule was 70's music. Sometimes on Saturday's when the restaurant was closed we'd run errands and she'd sing and dance to her old tunes. I loved when she'd do that because I could connect with her in those moments. They made her human. My parents always stuck out in their inner circles. Their church friends were often not from Louisiana and slightly more refined. I'm proud to say my parents were a little more gritty than their friends. They were very real people who spent their lives trying not to be. Both raised in the city streets of New Orleans by Catholic immigrant families, they were emotional, driven and partiers by nature. The accumulation of Cajun French, Sicilian, and Irish blood made up a very dramatic and broken family dynamic in our house. But no one ever really knew about it. We'd go to church and sit up straight and speak the appropriate religious verbiage when engaging. At home we fought and screamed and broke things when life got stressful. We'd cry and curse each other out and then piss ourselves laughing half way through because we knew we were ridiculous. Growing up this confused me but I appreciate it now. My parents still pretend though. I think they'll always have to to be happy. I'll always know who they really are, though. And even though they may be ashamed I'll always love how broken and interesting it is to be part of a dirty immigrant family who originated from St Bernard Parish and the Irish Channel. I don't think any of our origins are "Godly." And I don't think godliness comes from acting on things that can be labeled as worldly or otherwise. I'd have to say godliness is a state of the heart. It's deeper and more automatic. Like your heart and lungs. The rest is just who you are. My mom, having been moved by my gift, wanted to show it to everyone. At church the following Sunday she insisted that I pull out my laptop and show all her church friends. This made me feel ten feet tall because moments where my mom bragged on me were rare. It was a good day. My mom sat directly infront of the screen even though she normally would move and allow others to enjoy. This body language told me she was proud of the gift. Her southern baptist friends watched with stone cold faces as the secular 70's music wove a tale from the past about two people quietly in love. I felt the tension build and began to sweat. I love my mother but I knew the peer pressure was more than she could withstand. Turn on the social heat and my mother can sometimes forget she even has children to protect from the cruel world. Her friends, out of politeness, watched, but into the second song of the slideshow I could see my moms Stoney expression. Her face was red and I saw embarrassment in her eyes. Thinking back I get so sad because I hate to see anyone feeling uncomfortable or embarrassed. At the time all I felt was anger because I knew what was coming. My mom frowned and I was ready to fight. I get angry when I'm hurt. I think that's the case for most of us even if we can't say it. Sometimes I wonder how easy all of our relationships would be if we were willing to be honest when we were angry and just say "I'm hurt that you did or said this." I watched as my mom grimaced and then she asked in the most condescending way possible "Where did you get this music?" She asked this as if I had gotten an old Natalie Cole album from a drug dealer who was trying to expose me to the sins of the world. This was literally the music that had played in all my families restaurants since I was born so I was angered by her fake innocence. Of course me being her child I reacted -fueled by my Sicilian passion and my Irish temper. If she was going to throw me under the bus I was going to embarrass her. This was our relationship; a constant pissing match. Needy and dysfunctional. My reply was nonchalant but only she knew what I was doing. "Oh, this is just what I listen to all the time on my iPod." She may wanted to be viewed as the embodiment of what mainstream conservative reformers defined as motherhood but I was going be damned sure that everyone knew I was the dirty teenager that listened to non Christian music on an iPod unsupervised. She sarcastically rolled her eyes and said "oh, well that's nice." as she shut the laptop and changed the conversation. It was in this moment that I experienced a fury so powerful in my chest that I had to go to the bathroom as I fantasized about burning the building down. I was so angry. The truth is I was devastated and extremely hurt but emotional regulation and being in touch with your feelings isn't something we were raised with. Looking back now it's funny to me. I love my mom, she's funny and broken like everyone else. I don't blame her for how she handled that. I know how susceptible she is to the pressure of her version of society. She's a conformer to her own social subculture even if she thinks her lifestyle is her being bold and brave. She is who she is and I love almost everything about her. Remembering this story got me thinking about how so many children of the extremely religious end up leaving their parents faith for awhile. I've seen kid after kid break their parents hearts. I was one of those kids. And while leaving was the best thing I could have done for my relationship with myself and with my parents, I sometimes wonder how different the transition from dependent teenager to independent adult would be if a parent placed a higher value on the relationship with their child than on the lifestyle choices the child adheres to. Many kids leave and make themselves new only to return to the original lifestyle but with more healthy relationship habits. Some leave and the bond between parent and child is broken for good. I notice this more in extreme fundamentalist families. Also the rate of personality disorders, addiction and impulse control problems is rampant in fundamentalist children. Why is this? What makes the difference between a kid leaving his or her parents religion but growing/ figuring themselves out and a child leaving and falling apart. I sometimes think this has to do with bonding. As human beings we all have an innate need to bond. It's said that if we can't bond with the people around us, we'll bond with something less savory. I think back to my parents and what they valued. Not what they said they valued but what they actually priced with high worth. It's wasn't relationships. It wasn't kindness or humility. It wasn't their children. It was their lifestyle. All the checks and balances that were proof of their security from whatever in their past haunted them. It wasn't morality. It was things that represented a predefined and structured replacement of values. It doesn't require heart, just commitment and a lot of pride. This was why it was it was so easy for my mom to humiliate me in front of her church friends. She placed a much higher value on the lifestyle she had adhered to than she had placed on me as her child or her relationship with me. I think kids leave their religious roots when they know deep down inside that their parents faith isn't real. That their love for them wasn't real, or best very selfish and needy. It's a narcissistic thing for parents to require a growing adult to meet their egos needs in order to be loved and excepted. When people ask me if I'm bitter or resentful of my parent for prioritizing my heart last on their list or not supporting me because I'm gay. My stock answer is no because I don't want people to know that I, like everyone else, am slightly broken and a little messed up in my own way. But the truth is nobody goes through life untouched and it's important to share these things because they may help someone else. The truth is, it is possible to be healthy and move on and forgive all while still being a little angry or sad. I wouldn't expect my parents to change their beliefs for me because I wouldn't want them to expect the same of me. I value their independence and what they have done for themselves and who they are. I also value these same things in myself. And because of that I hold people accountable for how they treat the people around them, including myself. Growing godly taught me one thing. It taught me about false morality. It taught me to judge and be arrogant and I could be bitter about that if I wanted to. But I'm not. I'm not because growing up godly gave me a perfect representation of how easy it is to throw people aside and what pain can come of living in a bubble of your own arrogance and lack of empathy. In a way, I'm now hypersensitive to to the needs of others and wrestle with flaws in my character rather than flaws in my lifestyle. I don't remember anyone I went to church with caring about their character or their heart as much as they cared about gay guys getting married or women daring to speak up for their rights. I think the way I grew up was labeled as godly but actually the farthest thing from godly. I think I want to raise my kids to be godly. To love the hurting, feed the hungry, and defend the marginalized. I think I want to be godly in that way. To love without expectations or requirements. To know what I believe and who I am but not be so insecure and unsure that I have to belittle or shake my head at someone who isn't just like me. I'd like to teach my kids to love even those who don't agree and to not require compliance with their ideas in order to embrace and support people. That seems like a godly endeavor to me.