Dweezil. Moon Unit. Pilot Inspecktor. These are just a sampling of the unique names parents have given to their children. Why the parents chose those names is a head-scratcher to most of us, but regardless of the answers, the names are there and boy, are they unusual.
Gogol Ganguli (Kal Penn) can relate to any teasing, laughing and quizzical looks these folks have endured throughout their lives. Apart from being named after a dead, melancholic Russian writer named Nikolai Gogol—who happens to be his father’s favorite writer—Gogol has no idea why his father would choose to give him this name.
In The Namesake, based on Pulitzer Prize-winning Jhumpa Lahiri 2004 novel, Gogol’s name is a microcosm for the life he lives and the world he inhabits. The son of Indian immigrants, he has grown up in America caught between the values and sensibilities of two wholly disparate cultures. Gogol wants to have American girlfriends, smoke pot with friends while railing on the oddness of his “good name” (Indian “good names” are used in public, while “pet names” are used within the family) and go to McDonald’s instead of having “traditional nine-course Indian meals.” Though living in the land of freedom, Gogol feels trapped by cultural conventions, ultimately spending most of his youth immersed in whatever local Bengali communities his family finds as they move from place to place.
Shades of Amy Tan’s The Joy Luck Club appear throughout the film, as it deals with first-generation families who raise kids in America and struggle to maintain their traditions while their kids are assaulted by Coca-Cola, Dr. Dre and PlayStation 3. There is a constant tension between the Old World and the New World, the tension of Gogol growing up and learning to stand on his own feet while his parents get lost in the shuffle when he rejects their traditions. Though most kids undergo this maturing process with their parents, Gogol’s experience is given more weight by the burden he feels to tread his own path regardless of what his parents want for him.
Of the many high points in this film—superb, muted performances by Irfan Khan and Tabu as Gogol’s parents, shots of both the gritty and beautiful in India, the stirring musical score—what stands out most are the moments of realization. When Gogol learns the deeply personal reason for being given his name, we can’t help but be moved as he is; and when one of his family members dies, we can see the switch turned on in Gogol’s mind as he searches within himself and discovers why his family history is so important.
In the end, The Namesake is as much a coming of age tale as it is a reminder of why the bonds of family are so worthwhile. And although the third act rushes to make its point compared to the gradual build-up of the first two, it’s still a point that’s well worth coming to.
The Reaping (R): Russell Nichols
In The Reaping, Hilary Swank staggers on the bold line between science and spirituality. The two-time Oscar winner plays professor Katherine Winter, a former minister who traded in her cross to travel the world debunking supposed miracles. Her husband and daughter were killed in Sudan some years back while she was doing missionary work there. She lost her faith and found security in science, clarifying various phenomena with cold, hard facts.
“The only miracle is that people keep believing,” she says.
After Katherine returns home from her 48th miracle-busting mission in Chile, a schoolteacher named Doug (David Morrissey) from a backwater town called Haven recruits her to solve a local mystery of biblical proportions: the river there has turned blood red. The townspeople blame a 12-year-old blond girl (AnnaSophia Robb), claiming she killed her brother and caused the crimson tides under Satan’s influence. They think the river is a plague and fear more will follow. Just as they suspect, the town is hit with the works: falling dead frogs, madly diseased cows, head lice, locusts, skin boils, darkness. All 10 plagues are identical in form and order to the plagues of Exodus that God sent to Egypt via Moses to free the Israelites from a possessive Pharaoh.
Katherine investigates the alleged demon girl and the unusual events in the town with Ben (Idris Elba), her crucifix-kissing co-worker. They send specimens to distant labs for analysis. Aside from Katherine, everyone is convinced that the bizarre occurrences are supernatural. Her priest friend, Father Costigan (Stephen Rea), even sees biblical signs and tries to warn her that she is in danger. But Katherine, a skeptic, refuses to believe the incidents have any religious relevance.
The 96-minute religious horror film, directed by Stephen Hopkins, creeps along with close-up and quick camera work, bursts of sound and some eerie sequences. With a screenplay by Carey W. Hayes and Chad Hayes (House of Wax), The Reaping has been criticized for a lack of substance, copied plot points and a script that is substandard for the award-winning heroine. At the heart of the narrative, however, is the age-old argument of faith and facts, the debate between creationists and evolutionists. Do scientific conclusions negate the existence of God? Some would argue so. Others would argue that some things cannot be explained, which means a higher power must exist.
Katherine struggles to see both sides at the same time and represses one view for the other. Because of this, fears and desires emerge from her unconscious with horrific flashbacks and vivid hallucinations that shake her handle on reality. As she moves closer to understanding the truth in the bayou town, she also moves deeper in her understanding of herself and the forces beyond nature.
TNMT (PG): Derek Turner
As a child of the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, I loved the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I had the figurines, I watched the show, and I memorized most of the second movie (Secret of the Ooze), as well as Vanilla Ice’s “Ninja Rap.” So imagine my excitement in getting to view a cutting-edge CGI version of the heroes in a half-shell 15 years after their heyday, when I thought any mention of the Turtles would be limited to fond nostalgia. TMNT shows the Turtles the way they should be, with a full range of motion greatly extended from the early animatronic movies. And in addition to being a functional part of the Turtles storyline and canon (yes, there is a TMNT canon), it actually has a decent plot and character development.
But nostalgia aside, there were a high number of young viewers in the audience, and I began to wonder why these anthropomorphic reptiles were still popular. As I watched the movie, it dawned on me: the Turtles are characters to whom we can all relate. Thinking about this, I began comparing the Turtles to existing constructs of human behavior. I wondered whether they would relate better to the seven cardinal vices (Leo’s pride, Raph’s anger and envy, Mike’s gluttony and sloth) or to the four cardinal virtues (Leo’s fortitude, Don’s prudence and temperance, Raph’s justice). But the Turtles do not quite fit the construct perfectly, as some characters seem to be loaded either toward virtue or vice. And in all honesty, I don’t think the “party dude” character of Michelangelo was designed to be psychoanalyzed using high moral truths. Then I realized that the Turtles, like humans, represent the best and the worst of humanity. They are indicative of both the potential for good and the capacity of evil, as are all humans, who have free will.
The Turtles represent the view of human nature expressed by the Apostle Paul in Romans 7 when he writes about the struggle between his intentions (“What I want to do”), his actions (“What I do”) and his failures (“What I do not want to do”). The Turtles, like the rest of us, act in the midst of the paradox that is free will: they can choose their actions but not the consequences, and even good intentions may lead to failure. Much of the movie focuses on the idea of family and brotherhood, both in the relationships of the Turtles and of the primary villains, and it is in these relationships that we see part of the paradox of free will: not only do our choices have an effect on us, but they also affect those around us.
In essence, the Turtles remain popular and continually earn new fans because they are human. They show us who we could be at our best and who we are at our worst. They endure the problem of human nature and free will. Part of the successful formula is due, no doubt, to the aliens and crazy ninja fighting and zany one-liners and neo-retro-cool dialogue (Cowabunga!), but we must not forget that other factor in the success of the heroes in green: we relate to the Leonardo, Donatello, Michaelangelo and Raphael. They may be giant green turtles trained in the martial arts by a mutated rat. They may fight aliens from outer space and eat pizza and live in a sewer, but in the end they are just as human as the rest of us. That is why we can share in their repeated proclamation and declare with pride, “Man, I love being a turtle!”
Brian Palmer hails from Springfield, Ore., and is a published novelist and freelance film, music and book reviewer for several online and print publications. He works for the Christian non-profit relief organization India Partners and can be reached via email at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .
Russell Nichols, a former reporter for the Boston Globe, is a freelance writer in California. He has self-published a poetry book titled Time Taught Me To Fly.
Derek Turner is a freelance writer from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. He does know all the words to “Ninja Rap” and is still sad that he sold off his Ninja Turtle action figures when he was 13.
