Prince Of Persia: The Sands Of Tme (Movie Review)

Summer Fluff In A Sandstorm

I had low expectations for this movie, knowing it was a Disney-produced action movie, but it was lackluster even by summer adventure blockbuster standards. The effects were OK, the action sequences were all too familiar, there was no real plot or romance, and some of the best sequences seemed lifted right out of an "Indiana Jones" movie. There were a few clever lines that the adult chaperones in the audience would appreciate (allusions to the U.S. in the Middle East and no weapons of mass destruction - that sort of thing), but overall, it was just a nice easy way to kick off the summer movie season with two hours of nothing serious. Unfortunately, that includes nothing seriously memorable: not even Jake Gyllenhaal's obviously worked out shoulders and arms. It's OK if you pass on this one: I'm sure some semblance of it will appear in a Disney theme park (or parade) near you soon.

Earthlings

I think I had nightmares last night after forcing myself to watch the documentary, "Earthlings." A few friends had mentioned it to me, and I guess I've been an eco-documentary mood lately. Unlike "The Cove" or "Food Inc." the images in this movie were more graphic. The disclaimer at the start of the film states that the images in the movie are not isolated cases but industry standards and then proceeds to document how humans act out of the privilege of "speciesism." I found some of the narration to be misleading (or altogether inaccurate or wrong - like calling Pfiesteria a virus that attacks fish and that poses a health risk to humans somewhere in between HIV and Ebola) and some of the segments were pedantic and heavy-handed (like the prelude that explained speciesism to racism and sexism - point made, but it seemed to go on a bit too long and showing black and white historical photos of the Ku Klux Klan and pioneering suffragettes in the United States might not have been the most effective illustrations of those two cultural ills). But the film did an admirable job of looking at the relationship/orientation we humans have to all other animal species: as pets, as food, for clothing and goods, for entertainment (and sport), and for experimentation/science/medicine. I knew about some of the content, of course: the chicken coops, the dog breeding "puppy mills," the slaughterhouses, the bullfights, the circus animals, the fur seal slaughters, and the hunting of whales and dolphins. Some of the more extremely disturbing stuff was new (or maybe I had denied it and blocked it out of my memory): the failed Kosher beef killings, wolves that are skinned alive for their fur, pigs that cannibalize each other in overcrowded pens, animal shelters that euthanize animals in "gas chambers," wild animals kept captive to the point that they develop "cage madness" until they are killed for their fur (with two words that need no further explanation: "anal electrocution"), leather and dolphins that are killed not with by slitting their throats but with machetes that practically behead them leaving them to die slowly by aspirating on their own blood. Yes, this movie presents a strong argument for animal rights and for vegetarianism and for the elimination of leather/fur products. But at its core message (the one that really stuck with me) was this: humans are the only living beings on the planet that are capable of inflicting pain on each other and on other species, knowing that they are causing pain. (At least as far as we can tell.) That made me think very carefully about how much I am informed about my actions and their consequences, and about how much responsibility I take for anything or everything.

Look, I know I'm no poster child for this (or maybe any cause). It's been four years since I cut animal meat from my diet, but I still consume dairy products and eggs and I don't go around demanding everyone else around me to eat the way I eat. I still wear leather shoes and belts. I still don't like pigeons, seagulls, cats (especially feral cats). I have decided to no longer patronize marine parks or aquariums that keep marine mammals in captivity, but I did go to the Monterey Bay Aquarium within the last two years, and the last time I went to the San Francisco Zoo, I enjoyed it. But maybe there are more small things I can do to make the planet better, at least for the time I'm on it. I know that's a big task and it's impossible for me to fix it all. But in this day and age of habitat destruction, loss of species, oil spills, emerging diseases, malnourishment and lack of clean water, shouldn't we all be doing something to help? Anything?

I woke up from my bad sleep (interrupted by at least one slaughterhouse nightmare) remembering a speech that I heard a few months ago at a professional association convention. It was the closing keynote given by Sr. Helen Prejean (the woman behind the book that became the movie, "Dead Man Walking"). In her talk, she identified a link between the death penalty and war crimes of violence. She said that "death chambers are the tilling grounds of torture" - in other words: one form of humans killing other humans predisposes us to permit other acts of torture or murder; "violence begets violence" taken to its arguably ultimate logical conclusion. The film included the quote from Leo Tolstoy, "As long as there are slaughterhouses, there will be battlefields." In an e-mail exchange I had this week with another friend about war movies, he argued that all war movies are about right and wrong. Maybe some battlefields are about wrong and (more) wrong. I wonder if humans - intelligent and evolved enough to do so much - are capable of also ending violence. Even just a little bit?

I encourage you to watch this film, as tough as it may be. And I encourage you to keep exploring issues for all the interconnections they have to all other issues in life. It's a lot to think about, for sure. But it's rather amazing that our minds can consider such complicated narratives. I just hope we can realize an imagined happy ending to the story. It's all complex, but that doesn't have to mean life is overwhelming. After all, I did wake up from my nightmare and a new day began.