Movie Review: One Day

One Day
(PG-13)
Directed by Lone Scherfig
Running Time: 107 minutes
Originally Released: August 19, 2011

* (out of four)

If nothing else can be said about the would-be romantic drama One Day, this can: once the near 25 years depicted in the movie have elapsed, viewers will believe they have devoted at least that much time to watching the film. In fact, it may only take 20-30 minutes for audience members to grow uncomfortably antsy. This is indeed one long, drawn-out day.

In actuality, One Day derives its name from the narrative gimmick of telling a quarter-century-long story via a series of vignettes restricted to the ides of July. In a mostly linear fashion, the film gives us glimpses of the main characters’ lives on July 15th of each year, beginning in 1988 and concluding in the present. Some of these glimpses last less than a minute, while others clock in at a bulkier ten. Through them, we observe the ebb and flow of two individuals’ lives—those of Emma (Anne Hathaway) and Dexter (Jim Sturgess)—their successes and failures, their personal growth and development, and of course, their relationships both professional and romantic. Though Emma and Dexter are good friends—sometimes distantly so, sometimes co-dependently so—the question is whether they will ever amount to more. They almost amounted to more on that first July 15th, the night they graduated college and literally, but only literally, slept together. Flash-forward 365 days and the two would-be lovebirds seem to occupy entirely different worlds. Emma is working as a waitress in London while Dexter, who hails from well-to-do British stock, is making the most of his posh, playboy lifestyle. Somehow, the tie between the former classmates is never quite severed, even as Emma goes from borderline frumpy but upbeat and dedicated working-class girl to successful writer, and Dexter transforms at an even more rapid pace from prissy womanizer to equally prissy but slightly less womanizing B-list celebrity and Joey Lawrence lookalike to an emotionally-matured, deli-owning Taylor Hicks lookalike. Along the way, Emma enters into a halfhearted (for her) relationship with Ian (Rafe Spall in the film’s best performance), a daft but enthusiastic aspiring comedian, while Dexter confronts the fact that his frivolity is a source of disappointment to his father (Ken Stott) and ailing mother (an underutilized Patricia Clarkson).

Put simply, One Day is a very boring film. Watching two disinteresting characters live out a significant portion of their lives—even in the abbreviated and fragmented form this movie employs—is a tall demand, especially for a drama. While Dexter is certainly the more developed of the two lead roles, he is such an effeminate doofus that it is hard to believe any heterosexual female, much less the seemingly respectable Emma, would be charmed by him. Meanwhile, in order to emphasize the contrast between Dexter’s and Emma’s characters, the latter has been stripped of all vitality. That she might play straight to Dexter’s zigzag, the filmmakers have divested Emma of even the most fleeting looks of deep contemplation or joyful enthusiasm. Presumably, Emma is something of an artist deep down inside. But if she is meant to be a gifted writer, why not convey at least some sense of her genius to the audience? Why not tease us with her potential and get us rooting for her to blossom? Instead, Emma remains as washed out as the movie poster that advertises the film (see above). It’s all quite tragically mundane.

Life has its ups and downs, and this is a clichéd truism that One Day seeks to exploit. Yet for all of the July 15th’s visited in the film, One Day fails to find a single moment with any real pizzazz, that sparkles and shines and draws the viewer in. The dedicated moviegoer may note with stoic objectivity that, indeed, time has passed and lives have changed onscreen, but the experience is all too monochromatic. Whatever magic may exist in the pages of the book on which this film was based, it has not found its way to the big screen. And that makes the 25 years that pass between the movie’s opening and closing credits feel like an eternity.

Why Adopt? Seriously, Why?

This post has the potential to offend some people. I’m not sure that any of them will ever read this, so it might not matter all that much. But I do recognize that what follows may be viewed by some as incredibly, offensively ignorant. For all it’s worth, let me say that I have absolutely no intention to offend anyone. I acknowledge (without condoning) my ignorance on this issue. In fact, it is precisely the hope of eradicating my ignorance that prompts me to write this post. This is a topic which I admittedly claim not to understand. Help me, if you can.

So what is the topic? Importantly, it is not adoption tout court. Instead, it is a certain class of adoptions—namely, those adoptions that take place in families consisting of two happily married adults who already have multiple biological children and are biologically capable of reproducing again.

I recently learned (fourth-hand, mind you) about a set of parents that fit into this category. They already have four children, the oldest turning seven within the next couple of months and the youngest being just one year old. The parents are now in the process of adopting two babies from Ethiopia, a seven-month-old and a four-month-old. (The two babies are not related to each other.) It may or may not strike you as relevant that the adoptive parents are Caucasian and, from what I understand, have no special connection to Ethiopia.

When I heard about this, my brain immediately screamed, “Why in the world are they doing that?” And, to reveal the part of my post—or of my mentality, I suppose—that is most likely to offend certain people, I admit that I cannot think of a good reason for people like this to adopt. That is, I have a hard time thinking that adopting under these circumstances is really justifiable. Put even more bluntly, I cannot help but view the parents’ decision to adopt as a negative thing, as somehow reflecting poorly upon them. Like, if they really want to have more kids, they should—rationally, if not morally, should—just reproduce. There, I said it. I don’t understand adopting when you can have your own kids. Something about it just doesn’t seem right to me.

But wait? Isn’t adoption a good thing? Why, yes, it certainly can be. But is that the point here? Is adoption justified on the basis that it is performing some kind of charitable service? Providing a needy child with a loving family and a safe home—pretending for the moment that all cases of adoption have these benefits—is undoubtedly a good thing … if that’s as much about the issue as you consider. But let’s be honest, adoption is not the most efficient way of saving the world. Word has it that adopting these two babies will cost the adoptive parents approximately $40,000. (The babies were buy one, get one at half price. That’s putting it crudely, but I’m not joking.) One might quibble with how the term “saving a life” should be understood, but various sources will tell you that donating $40,000 to charity has the potential to save anywhere from 3,600 to 80,000 lives. (See here, here, here, and here.) In short, the Good Samaritan Defense for adopting doesn’t strike me as all that plausible. Improving the world might, in certain circumstances, justify putting a child up for adoption, and it might justify adopting certain children when and if one is going to adopt anyway. But I don’t think it qualifies as a good reason for adopting in-and-of-itself.

Here’s where I get even more controversial: I can’t help but think that some people adopt because it seems cool. It’s hip to adopt, just like it’s hip to be vegan or drive a Prius. I think some people view adopting a child as somehow forward-thinking and progressive. But to adopt for this reason is, in my view, morally repugnant. It strikes me as a poor attempt at “embracing diversity.” This is especially true when such people adopt outside of their own countries and cultures. Now, if a person is going to adopt, there may be very practical reasons for adopting outside of one’s own culture—it might be cheaper and involve less wait, for instance. But is that always the motivation behind adopting an overseas child? I swear I’ve heard some people say that they’ve always wanted to adopt a baby from this-or-that foreign region. I get the impression that, in these people’s minds, there’s just something cool about adopting an alien child, the same way someone might aspire to visit all seven continents or write a novel. I have absolutely no basis for thinking the parents I mentioned above fall into this category, and yet I have no basis for thinking they don’t. I sincerely hope they don’t. Adopting a child from another country because it’s cool to do so puts adoption a bit too on par with collecting shot glasses. What’s next? Have ten children and raise them all in different religions? Wouldn’t that be cool and forward-thinking?

With my rant more or less complete, it is worth reiterating that I don’t think adoption is a bad thing. I’m just baffled by those who would adopt under the circumstances described above. I’m inclined to think that if one is in a situation where having another biological child is a viable option, adoption is an odd way to go. Maybe the parents are thinking something like this: we want to have another child, so we might as well adopt a child in need rather than bring another child into an overpopulated world. I’m highly skeptical that this applies to the couple in question (for reasons not worth broaching here), but it may explain why some parents in a similar situation would choose to adopt. I’m leery of this being the general line of thought in the kinds of cases with which I’m concerned, but perhaps it is. At least it is a coherent position to take. There is more I could say on the matter, more questions that I might have even if this is the best answer that can be provided, but I’ll resist for now. I don’t think my questions would make me sound any more open-minded or any less judgmental. I guess it’s just hard for me to think of choosing to adopt when having my own offspring is achievable and would not change the family dynamic any more than—and indeed would probably change it less than—adopting would. It might be nice to avoid the challenges of pregnancy, but adopting in order to avoid being (or having a partner that is) pregnant is a bit off-putting to me. (Of course, I am not considering cases where pregnancy would pose a special threat to the woman’s health.) So, are there good reasons for adopting even when one can, without threatening the extant family unit in some way, have a child of one’s own?

If you’ve read all of the above and you think I’m a horrible person, please reprove me. I would appreciate it.

The Results Are In - Student Evaluations

A sampling of some of the comments I received on student evaluations of my teaching over the past two semesters:

“I really liked the instructor…. He made the material fun to learn and very interesting. I’m glad I took this class”!

“Very funny”!

“Funny”!

“A great teacher…! Love the course!”

“He was hilarious and kept the mood light”!

“Brings modern relevance to a course that often cites old, dead men…. Great class!”

“Extremely funny…. He makes many situation comedy jokes to help understand concepts…. Funny, educated, and on task”!

“He was funny”!

“Well knowledged [sic] … well prepared … made the class interesting”!

“Funny and entertaining, but also serious.”

“Nice and funny”!

“Makes class interesting and exciting”!

“Helpful, well-spoken, and intelligent”!

“He was great!”

“A great teacher”!

“Favorite teacher, he is awesome! So good!”

“Very boring lectures”!

“The course was awesome and so was Ben”!

“A very approachable instructor!”

“Kept classes interesting / entertaining”!

“Amazing class!”

“Straight forward, and knew exactly what he was talking about.... He knows how to make a person think”!

“He was funny!”

“He made it fun”!

“Very informed … really made you think and hone in on what your beliefs are”!

“Great teacher that is able to answer questions that were bombarded upon him”!

“Great instructor”!

“Great teacher, easy to listen to and … very helpful”!

“He was kickass”!

Book Review: A Visit from the Goon Squad

More of a literary collage than a straightforward novel, Jennifer Egan’s A Visit from the Goon Squad is likely to resonate with those with a penchant for the experimental. The writing style, voice, characters, times, places, and even layout (one chapter is presented as a series of PowerPoint-like slides in landscape orientation) shift and pitch with all the fervency of a dropped flyer on a busy Chicago street. It’s a cluttered, crowded, and sometimes disorienting journey, lacquered in a dubiously purposeful aimlessness that remains largely unresolved by the book’s end. (An appropriate sentiment, perhaps, given that one of the novel’s central themes is the ambivalent and unstoppable passage of time.) Fortunately, there is beauty to be found in Egan’s writing, even if it is often hidden beneath pages and pages (and pages and pages) of noise. Put briefly, Egan’s A Visit from the Goon Squad is a work littered with creativity—a claim that speaks more to the book’s detriment than to its success.

Ghost Semester

It’s hard to believe the spring semester has already started. Christmas Winter break flew by, as always. Because I was in charge of grades and had a slew of problems not worth discussing here, the fall semester dragged on a bit beyond what it normally would have. That didn’t help. But aside from the fundamental shock at how quickly the semester break has passed, it’s a bit unbelievable that the spring semester has started simply because the evidence for it is so lacking. I spent the previous two semesters teaching, so I was incredibly busy once the semester started. This time around, I’m back to being a lowly TA, which means all is quiet for the moment. The beginning of the semester has appeared only as the faintest of blips on my radar. And though I’m sure to get busy with grading in the near enough future, I’m not sure this semester will ever feel entirely real. The instructor for which I’m a TA, who is a graduate student like me, has explicitly told me that I needn’t attend his class. He assures me that the material is so basic—it’s an Introduction to Philosophy course—that I’ll do just fine if only I glance at the readings now and again. It seems very strange to me not to attend a class the assignments for which I’ll be grading, but I happily welcome the flexibility afforded me by the lax attitude of the instructor. It is good to have this kind of arrangement when I’m heading into a semester where it will be exceedingly important that I get a lot of good work done on my dissertation, a project that has remained all but dormant since I began teaching back in the summer.

Here’s another cool perk: I might actually be able to attend the occasional gymnastics class for Edison and Peter. The boys’ gymnastics classes conflict with the class for which I’m a TA this semester. Melanie and I purposely arranged the gymnastics classes for the day and times that they are, but we did so based on the assumption that I would have a different TA assignment than I ultimately got. This wasn’t done merely as a matter of wishful thinking—I’d been given the strong impression that I was all but guaranteed a certain TA gig I had more or less begged for. Turns out the gig was less “guaranteed” and more “all but.” When I learned I’d been assigned a TA gig that overlapped with the gymnastics classes, I was quite crestfallen. But now that I know I don’t even have to attend the class to which I’ve been assigned, it’s irrelevant what my TA gig is. And that’s kind of cool.

A final note, just to get everything off of my chest. Last semester, when I taught, I had 142 students and one TA to help me out. This semester, I am one of two TAs for a class of 101 students. On the one hand, I’m extremely happy that I did not end up flying solo this semester as a TA for a class of nearly 150 students. On the other hand, I’m keenly and begrudgingly aware of just how under-supported I was an instructor last semester. I know they assign TAs based on availability and that the largest classes get multiple TAs first, and it so happens that in the fall there were two or three philosophy classes that were larger than the one I was teaching. But still. It was kind of a joke.