I was riding my bike 5 minutes from my house one year ago today when an SUV ran a stop sign and hit me. The pictures below were a couple days later. It’s the first time I’ve looked at them myself. I’ll write more about the aftermath of it all some other time. Until then…
Agile and Lean are old news. Everyone uses and abuses the lexicons. Have a short daily meeting? Call it a daily Scrum. Trying to deliver something in a relatively short period of time? Call it a Sprint or iteration. Have a board with post-it notes in swim lanes? Kanban at your service. Writing some tests? Call it TDD. Attempt to improve a process? Continuous improvement! Use a CI server to run a job here or there? Tell the world you’re doing continuous integration. Code on production? Continuous deployment! Meanwhile, people who list experience with Agile and Lean on their resumes more often than not talk about how painful and all around chaotic it all was. The underlying reason for this bad aftertaste is most often due to the adoption of practices without an understanding of the principles behind them.
The temptation is to read an article, watch a short video, attend a conference session and latch onto a particular Agile or Lean practice without the fuller context. This is especially popular in tech where many (most?) of us have a natural tendency to chase after shiny new objects. Instead of a collection of tools that serve their purpose within a greater context, we latch onto the hammer and start pounding everything in sight. A team struggling on a project decides to try a daily standup because they like that part of Scrum. They don’t realize the nuances behind a daily Scrum. They don’t grasp the commitment demanded by Scrum as a whole, and how the daily Scrum helps enforce that commitment. A standup is easy; building teams dedicated to consistently delivering something tangible in a short period of time is not. Every ceremony within Scrum is there because the principles drive it. Adopt one ceremony out of context and the result is less than satisfying – far short of transformative. Ditto for Lean. The practices are easy to grasp and implement poorly without knowing the “why” behind them.
Wrestling with and forming an understanding of the principles behind Agile/Lean requires perseverance. There are no shortcuts. Trial and error is expected, but not without wrestling with the reason why we’re trying to implement a practice in the first place. Racing from one good idea to the next requires little discipline. Little is learned when a practice is implemented without a grasp of the underlying principles. The failed practice is tossed out and a new one takes its place, awaiting a similar fate. The only way out of this rat race is learning why a particular framework, practice, methodology is the way it is and then identifying and carefully evaluating the problems we’re trying to solve and how the two align (or don’t.) There are no shortcuts. No silver bullets. No buzzwords to save the day.
My twelve year old son was playing Super Mario Brothers on the Wii with his friend tonight. My son has played the game so much over the years he’s come to almost hate it. His friend isn’t there yet. While blazing through each screen with ease, EC casually blurts out that quote. His friend looks at him puzzled. Welcome to the club.
Creating a unique world in film is difficult. The safe bet is to stick to the real world or go so fantastical as to render it unrecognizable. Those who dare to mix the real and fantastical face the challenge of overcoming an audience never believing a single moment. If there is one only one thing Benh Zeitlin pulls off in his first feature length film, Beasts of the Southern Wild, it is creating a world all its own, with one foot steeped in reality and the other planted in the clouds.
Bathtub is somewhere in the Bayou, an island unto its own, filled with people living in poverty which include a young girl named Hushpuppy (Quvenzhané Wallis) and her father, Wink (Dwight Henry). Hushpuppy lives with her dad but in her own home. Dad seems barely capable of caring for himself and demands that Hushpuppy fend for herself, possibly because he senses his days are numbered, but it’s just as likely Wink is skirting responsibility while drowning in his own sorrow (not to mention liquor) of not having Hushpuppy’s mother with him. The feisty independent girl longs for her mother and is angry her father can disappear for days without notice.
Some of the Bathtub community are defiant, so much so that they won’t evacuate when a major storm is approaching. Instead of fleeing, Wink and others hunker down. They do their best to survive the storm and hold onto what little they call their own. Hushpuppy thinks the storm is happening because the icecaps are melting and will unleash some oversize warthog looking beasts. She learned this at school. At this point, shots of melting icecaps invade the screen. I’m not sure if the images and lore were meant to convey a heavy handed message, but it felt like there was a parallel being made between Katrina and global warming. Far from an activist film, Beasts also doesn’t hide the similarities of its world and the one of New Orleans right after hurricane Katrina.
The storm comes and trounces the Bathtub with non-stop water. Wink, Hushpuppy and some of their neighbors are left to survive the elements while figuring out what they’re going to do longer term. The journey meanders a bit, allowing us to get a fuller picture of just how adamant this community is about living life on their terms, no matter how hard the government or other outside forces try to rescue the remaining Bathtub residents.
In between the fantastic voyage and strange images of beasts racing towards the Bathtub, there is a story of a little girl who wants to find her mom and somehow make things work between her and her overbearing, sometimes abusive father. The father-daughter relationship on screen is a challenge. One of them we root for and the other against. While folklore rules the day and people revel in their plight in life, wisdom is in short supply, which is probably why the film’s most touching moments seemed a bit distant for me. The intended impact never hit fully as I found it difficult to completely empathize with a father who can’t seem to look outside of himself and a community that seems to pride itself in debauchery as much as it does in being a loving responsible community.
The cinematography and score are beautiful, creating a world all its own. The challenge is when the deeper emotional moments and themes don’t resonate as much as the gorgeous sights and sounds. What seemed like it could have been a one-of-a-kind masterpiece falls short, but there is much to love, including amazing performances by first time actors, Quvenzhané Wallis and Dwight Henry.
Guts. That is what it takes to make (not to mention fund!) a black and white stop motion film dealing with the death of family pets. A real pick me up if ever there was one. Leave it to Tim Burton with Frankenweenie to pull off the impossible. It’s been a while since he last tapped into his dark quirky style and made it work.
Victor Frankenstein is a loner. He’s not unhappy. He enjoys spending time with his dog Sparky, making movies and doing science projects. When Sparky gets hit by a car and dies Victor’s world takes a dive. Inspired by his science teacher’s lesson on electricity and lightning, Victor digs up Sparky and brings him back to life thanks to some ingenuity on his part and the town’s constant evening lightning storms.
It wouldn’t be a Burton film without a plethora of odd characters. Mr. Rzykruski’s, the science teacher, makes a lasting first impression as he takes some of the magic and myth out of his students’ misunderstanding of lightning. The scene is magical thanks to screenwriter John August’s punchy dialogue and Martin Landau’s creepy over-the-top delivery. Not to be outdone by her teacher, a strange little girl with beady bugged out eyes and her cat, who shares the same comical feature, make every moment of screen time entertaining. Our initial introduction to the girl and her cat are when she stops Victor to explain how her cat sometimes leaves a present in the litter box in the shape of the first letter of a classmate’s name. The gift is meant to indicate something significant is going to happen to that person. After the cat leaves a “V”, it’s not long before Sparky is dead.
Like many Burton films, Frankenweenie obsesses over the odd, even taboo subjects. This time around it’s death with a side helping of science. Thankfully, Frankenweenie sees death as it should – sad and tragic. Too many films, whether aimed at children or adults, try to put a happy spin on life’s end. Celebrate, don’t mourn at funerals. Frankenweenie will have none of that. Where it missteps is in the end where it sends mix messages to kids about both death and science. As long as your motives are good, science and our applications of it follow suit. Just as the movie says, science is neither good nor bad, but to think that good intentions equals positive results is ridiculous. There are times our best intentions produce terrible results, and sometimes the opposite is true. The lesson taught about death is ultimately puzzling, thanks to an ending which tries to redeem a situation that should be left as it is. I’d say more but – spoilers.
Aside from some thematic problems, Frankenweenie is a lot of fun in the final act. There are endless references to classic monster movies, making the action sequences all the zanier. What was once a relatively somber film turns into a bit of a thrill ride.
I’m not sure who Frankenweenie is for. I guess it’s geared towards kids but the style and subject matter don’t fit that demographic. My seven year old enjoyed it but then she also enjoys quite a few old black and white monster movies. Regardless of who the movie is targeted at, the daring style of a stop motion, black and white feature film gets paired with a solid story and some good characters, which has been missing from Tim Burton’s movies in the past. The magic is back.