Commentary
FILM REVIEW: Glass
NNPA NEWSWIRE — Two hours and nine minutes roll by, and the film is about as frustrating as standing in a TSA line at the airport. Fault the strained writing. Blame the lifeless direction.
By Dwight Brown NNPA News Wire Film Critic
After viewing Glass, there will be a great debate: Should M. Night Shyamalan stop writing scripts for his films? Should he refrain from directing them? Or maybe both!
Remember The Sixth Sense? Slow, odd movie with a very shocking ending? Shyamalan has gone back to that drawing board and sketched in a hybrid movie that pulls together plotlines from two of his previous films. Unbreakable from the year 2000: David Dunn (Bruce Willis), a security guard, is involved in a catastrophic train accident that kills all onboard, except him. A stranger, Elijah Prince (Samuel L. Jackson), aka Mr. Glass, swears the event was Dunn’s destiny. Split in 2016: Kevin Wendell Crumb (James McAvoy), an evil man with super strength and 23 personalities, kidnaps three girls. The most venomous of his inner demons, The Beast, is vile beyond redemption.
Fast forward to 2019, Philadelphia, PA., Dunn is a street vigilante with inordinate power and becomes clairvoyant when he brushes up against people. He wears a hooded raincoat to hide his identity as he stalks and annihilates criminals who prey on innocent victims. Cops hunt him. His son Joseph (Spencer Treat Clark) supports his efforts.
Prince, a supervillain mastermind with a genetic disorder that leaves his bones so brittle they break like potato chips, is a patient/captive at the Raven Hill Memorial Psychiatric Research Hospital. Crumb? Well he has kidnapped four high school cheerleaders and is toying with them as he summons up the devil inside for a massive slaughter. After some fights, brawls and power struggles, all three wind up at Raven Hill, under the supervision of Dr. Ellie Staple (Sarah Paulson), a psychiatrist who specializes in delusional behavior particularly with people who believe they have super powers.
Shyamalan combines the two previous storylines but never ups the ante. The theme in this new venture explores people who have extraordinary abilities and use them for good or evil, a subject that is only mildly intriguing. Instead of making this premise a source of inspiration, his very clunky, heavy-handed script belabors the point. At some juncture, audiences won’t welcome that silly unfulfilling thought patter. Dunn says: “You can’t explain everything away.”
Then there’s the very illogical plot pieces and improbable events that lead to a surprising but limp conclusion. It’s dumb for Dr. Staple to put the three very combustible oddballs in the same facility. Dumber still to allow her staff easy access to their highly secured cells/rooms. Employees hand deliver meals to the devious patients, fraternize and make small talk. They don’t sense impending danger. Also, if the three volatile men are in a true high-security facility, escaping would not be a cakewalk and pushing a panic alarm button would be the first line of defense not the last one.
The overwritten script plods along at a snail’s pace. The first one hour and fifteen minutes is tedious enough to cause a group eye roll. Sloppy indecisive editing (Luke Ciarrocchi and Blu Murray) stymies any rhythm. Shyamalan’s spotty unimaginative direction and Mike Gioulakis’ dull cinematography make fight scenes a snore. None of the action is filmed from an interesting angle and the camera’s placement is often quite awkward. Scenes build to a finale where the audience expects a cataclysmic, visually arresting orgy of a battle. But there is none. Compare the style, direction, cinematography and special effects of The Avengers series, Wonder Woman, The Dark Knight, Deadpool and Black Panther to that in Glass, and the latter’s execution looks even more pitiful.
The three freaks are not all that engaging. Dunn is on the side of good, but with that constant scowl on Bruce Willis’ face, he is a buzzkill. Samuel L. Jackson acts like Samuel L. Jackson: He’s never met a piece of scenery he couldn’t chew up. The most curious performance is that of James McAvoy as the bizarre dude with freaky personalities. McAvoy shifts through them as smoothly as a Porsche gearbox going from park to neutral to drive, to turbo. Each character is distinct: the child, the woman, the hipster and the demon god from hell. McAvoy tries hard, but the direction doesn’t compliment his performance and his scenes drag on too long.
Paulson walks around comatose and is asked to say dumb things and disregard the way a real shrink would deal with patients. Even though what she is doing is a complete ruse, her Dr. Staples doesn’t act accordingly. Anya Taylor-Joy as a former Crumb victim and Charlayne Woodard as Price’s mom fill out the supporting cast without much conviction.
Two hours and nine minutes roll by, and the film is about as frustrating as standing in a TSA line at the airport. Fault the strained writing. Blame the lifeless direction. Question the injudicious editing. Abhor the clumsy cinematography. Condemn that lack of “wow” power special effects and dazzling action scenes.
Glass might cause a stir at Comic Con. Other audiences will likely scratch their heads in unison and hope they don’t get trampled as viewers stampede towards the exits.
Visit NNPA News Wire Film Critic Dwight Brown at DwightBrownInk.com and BlackPressUSA.com.
Activism
Oakland Post: Week of October 30 – November 5, 2024
The printed Weekly Edition of the Oakland Post: Week of October 30 – November 5, 2024
To enlarge your view of this issue, use the slider, magnifying glass icon or full page icon in the lower right corner of the browser window.
Activism
“Two things can be true at once.” An Afro-Latina Voter Weighs in on Identity and Politics
“As a Puerto Rican I do not feel spoken to in discussions about Latino voters… which is ironic because we are one of the few Latino communities who are also simultaneously American,” Ortiz-Cedeño says. Puerto Ricans born in Puerto Rico, a U.S. territory, have American citizenship by birth but they do not have the right to vote for president if they live on the island. “I think that we miss out on a really interesting opportunity to have a nuanced conversation by ignoring this huge Latino population that is indigenously American.”
By Magaly Muñoz
On a sunny afternoon at Los Cilantros Restaurant in Berkeley, California, Keyanna Ortiz-Cedeño, a 27-year-old Afro-Latina with tight curly hair and deep brown skin, stares down at her carne asada tacos, “I’ve definitely eaten more tortillas than plantains over the course of my life,” says Cedeño, who spent her childhood in South Texas, among predominantly Mexican-American Latinos. As she eats, she reflects on the views that American politicians have of Latino voters.
“As a Puerto Rican I do not feel spoken to in discussions about Latino voters… which is ironic because we are one of the few Latino communities who are also simultaneously American,” Ortiz-Cedeño says. Puerto Ricans born in Puerto Rico, a U.S. territory, have American citizenship by birth but they do not have the right to vote for president if they live on the island. “I think that we miss out on a really interesting opportunity to have a nuanced conversation by ignoring this huge Latino population that is indigenously American.”
Ortiz-Cedeño, an urban planner who is focused on disaster resilience, homelessness and economic prosperity for people of color, says that political conversations around Latinos tend to shift towards immigration, “I think this ties back into the ways that our perception of ‘Latino’ tends to be Mexican and Central American because so much of our conversation about Latinos is deeply rooted in what’s happening on the border,” she says. “I don’t think that the Afro-Latino vote is frequently considered when we’re talking about the Latino vote in the United States.”
As Ortiz-Cedeño sifts through childhood photos of her as a happy teen dancing with the Mexican ballet folklorico group in high school and as a dama in quinceñeras, she reflects on growing up in South Texas, an area with a large population of white and Mexican-Americans. The Black population was small, and within it, the Afro-Latino population was practically nonexistent.
“It was interesting to try to have conversations with other Latinos in the community because I think that there was a combination of both willful ignorance and a sort of ill intent and effort to try and deny my experience as a Latino,” she says. “There are a lot of folks in Latin America who experience a lot of cognitive dissonance when they think about the existence of Black Latinos in Latin America.
Ortiz-Cedeño comments on the long history of anti-Blackness in Latin America. “Throughout Latin America, we have a really insidious history with erasing Blackness and I think that that has been carried into the Latino American culture and experience,” she says. “People will tell you, race doesn’t exist in Latin America, like we’re all Dominicans, we’re all Puerto Ricans, we’re all Cubans, we’re all Mexicans. If you were to go to the spaces with where people are from and look at who is experiencing the most acute violence, the most acute poverty, the most acute political oppression and marginalization, those people are usually darker. And that’s not by accident, it’s by design.”
Because of the lack of diversity in her Gulf Coast town, as a teenager, despite being the only Spanish-speaker at her job in Walmart, Latinos refused to ask for her help in Spanish.
“Even if monolingual [Spanish-speaking] people would have to speak with me, then they were trying to speak English, even though they could not speak English, versus engaging with me as a Latina,” she says.
“I think that the perception of Latinos in the United States is of a light brown person with long, wavy or straight hair. The perfect amount of curves and the perfect combination of Indigenous and white genes. And very rarely will people also consider that maybe they also have a sprinkle of Blackness in them as well,” she says. “Over 90% of the slave trade went to the Caribbean and Latin America.”
Ortiz-Cedeño remembers when a Cuban family moved in next door to her in Texas. The teen daughter had blue-eyes, blonde hair and only spoke Spanish, which caused neighboring Latinos to take pause because she didn’t fit the Latino “look” they were used to.
“People didn’t have an option to try and negate her [Latino] identity because they had to acknowledge her for everything that she was,” Ortiz-Cedeño says.
Later on, the girl’s cousins, a Black, Spanish-speaking Cuban family, came into town and again locals were forced to reckon with the fact that not all Latinos fit a certain criteria.
“I think it forced everybody to have to confront a reality that they knew in the back of their mind but didn’t want to acknowledge at the forefront,” Ortiz-Cedeño says.
Having gone through these experiences as an Afro-Latina, Ortiz-Cedeño says it’s easy for her to understand Kamala Harris’ mixed Indian and Jamaican heritage, “It comes really naturally to accept that she is both Indian and Black. Two things can exist at the same time,” she says. “I had a long term partner for about seven years who was South Indian, from the same state as Kamala Harris, so if we had had a kid, they would look like [Harris],” Ortiz-Cedeño jokingly shares.
She says she can relate to having to walk the road of people only wanting to see Harris as a Black American. The talking point about [Harris] not being Indian or not being Black, just deciding to be Black, is really disingenuous and cheap,” she says.
Ortiz-Cedeño believes that the Harris campaign has not capitalized on the vice president’s mixed identity, which could be vital in bringing together different communities to understand each other on a new level and allow for improvements on America’s racial dynamics.
As she rushes into a Berkeley Urban Planning Commission meeting straight out of Ashby BART station, Ortiz-Cedeño explains her love for talking about all things infrastructure, homelessness, and healthcare access. The topics can be dry for many, she admits, but in the end, she gets to address long-standing systemic issues that often hinder opportunities for growth for people of color.
Having lived through the effects of Hurricane Katrina as a child, with the flooding and mass migration of Louisiana residents into Texas, Ortiz-Cedeño was radicalized into issues of displacement, emergency mitigation, and housing at nine years old.
“I remember my principal had to carry her students on her shoulders and swim us home because so many parents were trying to drive in and get their kids from school [due to] the flooding that was pushing their cars away,” she recalls.
Her family relocated to Houston soon after Katrina, only to be met with a deadly Hurricane Rita. They wound up in a mega-shelter, where Ortiz-Cedeño says she heard survivors stories of the unstable conditions in New Orleans and beyond, which got her wondering about urban planning, a term she wasn’t familiar with at the time.
“I think that when you put people in the context of the things that were happening in this country around [these hurricanes], a lot of us started to really think seriously about who gets to make decisions about the urban environment,” she adds.
Watching the heavy displacement of disaster survivors, hearing stories of her Navy veteran father’s chronic homelessness, and her own mother’s work and activism with homeless communities in the non–profit sector put her on the path to progressive politics and solutions, she says. After attending college on the East Coast- where she says she was finally recognized as a Puerto Rican- and working in housing, economic development, and public policy, she returned to California to earn a Master’s in City Regional Planning from UC Berkeley.
Her vast interest in the urban success of underserved communities even took her abroad to Israel and Palestine when she was an undergraduate college student. “I’ve seen the border with Gaza, I’ve had homestays with farmers in the West Bank,” she says. “For me personally, Palestine is an issue that is really close to the heart.”
“I have a very intimate understanding of the conflict and I’m very disturbed by the way in which the [Democratic] party has not been willing to engage in what I would perceive to be a thoughtful enough conversation about the conflict,” Ortiz-Cedeño says. “The issue of Palestine is going to be one of those that is a make or break issue for her. It has not been one that has been taken seriously enough by the party.”
Ortiz-Cedeño is not under the illusion that one candidate will address every policy issue she wants to see tackled by the president. But she believes it’s better than what former President Donald Trump has to offer.
“Trump has made it very clear what his intentions are with Palestine, and what his relationship is with [Benjamin] Netanyahu,” Ortiz-Cedeño says. “I understand the political strategy that many people are trying to engage in by withholding their vote, but I would also encourage them to re-engage in the political process.”
Casting her vote for Harris is a decision grounded in calculation rather than outright support. “I think I can vote in this election in order to have harm reduction… because I have deep care and concern for other communities that are going to be impacted by a Trump presidency,” Ortiz-Cedeño says.
She also hopes that American politicians will consider the nuance and perspective that Afro-Latinos bring to the table when it comes to politics, policy, and race in America, “When we don’t think expansively about who is Latino in the United States, the breadth of Latino experiences in the United States, we miss an opportunity to capture how diverse Latinos interests are politically.”
This story was reported in collaboration with PBS VOCES: Latino Vote 2024.
Bay Area
In the City Attorney Race, Ryan Richardson Is Better for Oakland
It’s been two years since negotiations broke down between the City of Oakland and a developer who wants to build a coal terminal here, and the issue has reappeared, quietly, in the upcoming race for Oakland City attorney. Two candidates are running for the position of Oakland City Attorney in November: current Assistant Chief City Attorney Ryan Richardson and retired judge Brenda Harbin-Forte.
By Margaret Rossoff
Special to The Post
OPINION
It’s been two years since negotiations broke down between the City of Oakland and a developer who wants to build a coal terminal here, and the issue has reappeared, quietly, in the upcoming race for Oakland City attorney.
Two candidates are running for the position of Oakland City Attorney in November: current Assistant Chief City Attorney Ryan Richardson and retired judge Brenda Harbin-Forte.
Richardson has worked in the Office of the City Attorney since 2014 and is likely to continue current City Attorney Barbara Parker’s policies managing the department. He has committed not to accept campaign contributions from developers who want to store and handle coal at a proposed marine terminal in Oakland.
Retired Judge Harbin-Forte launched and has played a leading role in the campaign to recall Mayor Sheng Thao, which is also on the November ballot. She has stepped back from the recall campaign to focus on her candidacy. The East Bay Times noted, “Harbin-Forte’s decision to lead the recall campaign against a potential future client is … troubling — and is likely to undermine her ability, if she were to win, to work effectively.”
Harbin-Forte has refused to rule out accepting campaign support from coal terminal interests or their agents. Coal terminal lobbyist Greg McConnell’s Independent Expenditure Committee “SOS Oakland” is backing her campaign.
In the 2022 mayor’s race, parties hoping to build a coal terminal made $600,000 in contributions to another of McConnell’s Independent Expenditure Committees.
In a recent interview, Harbin-Forte said she is open to “listening to both sides” and will be “fair.” However, the City Attorney’s job is not to judge fairly between the City and its legal opponents – it is to represent the City against its opponents.
She thought that the 2022 settlement negotiations ended because the City “rejected a ‘no coal’ settlement.” This is lobbyist McConnell’s narrative, in contrast to the report by City Attorney Barbara Parker. Parker has explained that the City continued to negotiate in good faith for a settlement with no “loopholes” that could have allowed coal to ship through Oakland – until would-be coal developer Phil Tagami broke off negotiations.
One of Harbin-Forte’s main priorities, listed on her website, is “reducing reliance on outside law firms,” and instead use the lawyers working in the City Attorney’s office.
However, sometimes this office doesn’t have the extensive expertise available that outside firms can provide in major litigation. In the ongoing, high stakes coal litigation, the City has benefited from collaborating with experienced, specialized attorneys who could take on the nationally prominent firms representing the City’s opponents.
The City will continue to need this expertise as it pursues an appeal of the judge’s decision that restored the developer’s lease and defends against a billion-dollar lawsuit brought by the hedge fund operator who holds the sublease on the property.
Harbin-Forte’s unwillingness to refuse campaign contributions from coal terminal interests, her opposition to using outside resources when needed, as well as her uncritical repetition of coal lobbyist McConnell’s claim that the City sabotaged the settlement talks of 2022 all raise serious concerns about how well she would represent the best interests of Oakland and Oaklanders if she is elected City Attorney.
-
Alameda County5 days ago
Alameda County District Attorney Pamela Price Announces $7.5 Million Settlement Agreement with Walmart
-
Activism3 weeks ago
COMMENTARY: DA Price Has Done Nothing Wrong; Oppose Her Recall
-
Activism2 weeks ago
OP-ED: Hydrogen’s Promise a Path to Cleaner Air and Jobs for Oakland
-
Activism3 weeks ago
Barbara Lee, Other Leaders, Urge Voters to Say ‘No’ to Recalls of D.A. Pamela Price, Mayor Sheng Thao
-
Activism3 weeks ago
Oakland Post: Week of October 9 – 15, 2024
-
Community2 weeks ago
Terry T. Backs Oakland Comedy Residency by Oakland’s Luenell at Jimmy Kimmel’s Comedy Club in Las Vegas
-
Business2 weeks ago
Study Confirms California’s $20/Hour Fast Food Wage Raises Pay Without Job Losses
-
Activism3 weeks ago
Surge of Support for Vote ‘No’ on Recall of Mayor Sheng Thao