May is a month filled with B movie series: Dr. Kildare, Bomba, Mexican Spitfire, Tarzan, Jungle Jim, Maisie, Dick Tracy, Andy Hardy, etc. I intend to watch some of the Great Gildersleeve films because I liked the original radio show and the films are directed by Gordon Douglas, about whom I have written previously in this blog. I am also familiar with and recommend the Blondie series, about the American family and directed by Frank Strayer, and the Perry Mason series, truer to Erle Stanley Gardner's books than the TV show. Also:
May 3. Otto Preminger's Laura (1944), mysteriously beautiful
May 8, Robert Flaherty's Nanook of the North (1922), a vivid documentary.
May 10. von Sternberg's Shanghai Express (1934)
May 13. King Vidor's Stella Dallas (1937)
May 17, Lubitsch's elegant Angel (1937)
May 19. Andre De Toth's film noir Crime Wave (1954) and Lubitsch's intense comedy about the Nazis in Poland, To Be Or Not To Be (1942).
May 26. John Ford's film about glory in defeat, They Were Expendable (1945)
May 31. Orson Welles's great Touch of Evil (1958)
Monday, April 30, 2018
Wednesday, April 25, 2018
Contemporary Film Journal
The best contemporary film I have seen lately is Steve De Jarnett's Miracle Mile. It was made in 1988 and was brought to my attention by a piece Eddie Muller wrote about it in "Noir City, number 23," in which he said "It may not be noir, but in many ways Miracle Mile is pure Cornell Woolrich -- one of his wrong time, wrong place, dark night of the soul specialties -- reconfigured by a guy [De Jarnett] who grew up under the threat of annihilation." In the film Anthony Edwards has just found the girl of his dreams (Mare Winningham) but oversleeps when he is supposed to pick her up after midnight as she gets off from her waitress shift. It's 4 in the morning when he arrives at her diner and when she is no longer there he goes to a phone booth to call her. The phone in the booth rings and it's a wrong number, a guy in a missile silo in South Dakota trying to call his father to tell him that missiles will hit Los Angeles in an hour and fifteen minutes. Nobody in the diner believes this is real until Denise Crosby checks with someone on her primitive cell phone and finds out it's true. Then the panic starts and spreads, as Edwards is trying to find Winningham and get a helicopter to the airport. The movie starts out as a romantic comedy and gradually the comedy turns to fear and horror, a delicate balancing act that was often successfully carried out by classical masters such as Alfred Hitchcock and Howard Hawks but is rare in contemporary films. The film is very much of the 80's in its candy-colored style and plot, but transcends its time in today's political atmosphere.
Two other films I have seen lately not only look as though D.W. Griffith never lived, but also as though John Ford and Charles Chaplin never lived either. The Florida Project, directed by Sean Baker, is something of a remake of Chaplin's The Kid (1921) with humor, emotion and beauty replaced by cheap irony, as kids run around on their own while their mothers try to scrounge for money to pay for the rent on their cheap motel rooms on the fringes of Orlando's Disney World. The one redeeming virtue of the film is the effectively low-key performance of Willem Dafoe as the manager of a motel, the Chaplin to Brooklynn Prince in the Jackie Coogan role.
Christopher Nolan's Dunkirk is typical of contemporary war films: one never knows where one is, who anyone is, or what exactly is happening at any given time (there is very little context). William Wyler's Mrs. Miniver (1942) gives us a much better understanding of what Dunkirk was all about and John Ford's They Were Expendable (1945) gives us a better idea of the melancholic difficulties of war; I also recommend D.W. Griffith's Birth of a Nation (1915) for its violent but intelligible battle scenes.
Two other films I have seen lately not only look as though D.W. Griffith never lived, but also as though John Ford and Charles Chaplin never lived either. The Florida Project, directed by Sean Baker, is something of a remake of Chaplin's The Kid (1921) with humor, emotion and beauty replaced by cheap irony, as kids run around on their own while their mothers try to scrounge for money to pay for the rent on their cheap motel rooms on the fringes of Orlando's Disney World. The one redeeming virtue of the film is the effectively low-key performance of Willem Dafoe as the manager of a motel, the Chaplin to Brooklynn Prince in the Jackie Coogan role.
Christopher Nolan's Dunkirk is typical of contemporary war films: one never knows where one is, who anyone is, or what exactly is happening at any given time (there is very little context). William Wyler's Mrs. Miniver (1942) gives us a much better understanding of what Dunkirk was all about and John Ford's They Were Expendable (1945) gives us a better idea of the melancholic difficulties of war; I also recommend D.W. Griffith's Birth of a Nation (1915) for its violent but intelligible battle scenes.
Tuesday, April 24, 2018
The Memoirs of Anthony Powell Vol 4 The Strangers All Are Gone (1982)
Try to remember that all epochs had to suffer assaults on commonsense and common decency, arts and letters, honour and wit, courage and order, good manners and free speech, privacy and scholarship; even if sworn enemies of these abstractions (quite often wearing the disguise of their friends) seem unduly numerous in contemporary society.
--Anthony Powell, The Strangers All Are Gone (Holt, Rinehart and Winston 1982)
This final volume of Powell's memoirs covers 1952-1982; Powell died in 2000 at the age of 95. This covers most of the years when the wonderful series of twelve novels, Dance to the Music of Time was published but Powell says little about them. Presumably those novels can speak for themselves, references to the original influences of the characters means little to one in any case. During this period Powell was the literary editor of "Punch" when Malcolm Muggeridge was the editor (Punch was around for many years and I enjoyed reading it at the library when I was in prep school). It's interesting that Powell talks little about his novels, for understandable reasons, but does talk a great deal about the theatre. When his first novel was turned into a play he became very interested in the theatre and wrote two plays that he hoped would be produced but never were.
Like the earlier versions of his memoirs the fourth volume is full of vivid portraits of contemporaries, and their work, whom he knew, or at least met:
Erich von Stroheim: Stroheim's method has about it something of Toulouse-Lautrec's power to impart by wit, flourish, a sense of design, beauty and universality to themes in themselves sinister and tawdry.
Kingsley Amis: Amis's emphatic personality was at once apparent, although on this first encounter I did not grasp how public a form this would soon take, indeed to some extent had already taken.
V.S. Naipal: Under much humour, understatement, irony, Naipal's excoriation is pitiless; a stinging call to order for a world still partly bemused by 19th century sentimentalities and optimisms, to which it has added some of its own yet more futile.
In the last part of the book Powell travels in Asia and lectures in America, with trenchant comments on both, ending the book with a meditation on the significance and greatness of Shakespeare.
--Anthony Powell, The Strangers All Are Gone (Holt, Rinehart and Winston 1982)
This final volume of Powell's memoirs covers 1952-1982; Powell died in 2000 at the age of 95. This covers most of the years when the wonderful series of twelve novels, Dance to the Music of Time was published but Powell says little about them. Presumably those novels can speak for themselves, references to the original influences of the characters means little to one in any case. During this period Powell was the literary editor of "Punch" when Malcolm Muggeridge was the editor (Punch was around for many years and I enjoyed reading it at the library when I was in prep school). It's interesting that Powell talks little about his novels, for understandable reasons, but does talk a great deal about the theatre. When his first novel was turned into a play he became very interested in the theatre and wrote two plays that he hoped would be produced but never were.
Like the earlier versions of his memoirs the fourth volume is full of vivid portraits of contemporaries, and their work, whom he knew, or at least met:
Erich von Stroheim: Stroheim's method has about it something of Toulouse-Lautrec's power to impart by wit, flourish, a sense of design, beauty and universality to themes in themselves sinister and tawdry.
Kingsley Amis: Amis's emphatic personality was at once apparent, although on this first encounter I did not grasp how public a form this would soon take, indeed to some extent had already taken.
V.S. Naipal: Under much humour, understatement, irony, Naipal's excoriation is pitiless; a stinging call to order for a world still partly bemused by 19th century sentimentalities and optimisms, to which it has added some of its own yet more futile.
In the last part of the book Powell travels in Asia and lectures in America, with trenchant comments on both, ending the book with a meditation on the significance and greatness of Shakespeare.
Monday, April 23, 2018
Meet the Music April 22, 2018
We have moved on from the Little Orchestra Society (see previous posts) with our six-year-old daughter to Meet the Music. The difference between the two is that LOS is advertised to be for 3-10 years old while Meet the Music is for 6 and up, i.e., it is somewhat more sophisticated than the goofiness of LOS, with more music for longer stretches of time. The problem is that at the April 22 performance there were many children who did not want to be there (too many were well under six) and there were many parents who did not want to be there either, playing with their cell phones, rustling plastic bags and generally creating distractions. Music is to be concentrated on and enjoyed, not to be listened to because somehow it is "good for you."
Fortunately my wife, son and daughter were mostly able to tune out the distractions and enjoy the music. I appreciated what Bruce Adolphe was trying to do --finding common themes in Mozart, Schubert and Beethoven --but the didactic part about a restaurant that served only banana recipes was not particularly clear or successful, though the music was lovely: Mozart's Twelve Variations in C major for Piano and his Trio in G major for Piano, Violin and Cello, Beethoven's variations on "The Magic Flute," and Schubert's Fantasy in C major for Violin and Piano. Anna Polonsky on piano, Sean Lee on violin and Mihai Marica on cello played intensely and beautifully, seemingly oblivious to the somewhat noisy and distracting crowd. My daughter, who studies dance, moved in her seat to the allegros and appreciated the beauty of the adagios.
Fortunately my wife, son and daughter were mostly able to tune out the distractions and enjoy the music. I appreciated what Bruce Adolphe was trying to do --finding common themes in Mozart, Schubert and Beethoven --but the didactic part about a restaurant that served only banana recipes was not particularly clear or successful, though the music was lovely: Mozart's Twelve Variations in C major for Piano and his Trio in G major for Piano, Violin and Cello, Beethoven's variations on "The Magic Flute," and Schubert's Fantasy in C major for Violin and Piano. Anna Polonsky on piano, Sean Lee on violin and Mihai Marica on cello played intensely and beautifully, seemingly oblivious to the somewhat noisy and distracting crowd. My daughter, who studies dance, moved in her seat to the allegros and appreciated the beauty of the adagios.
Tuesday, April 17, 2018
Edwin L. Marin's Colt .45
Colt .45 is an exemplary Western, with a great deal of the common iconography that made Westerns so popular for so many years: blazing guns, a lovely damsel in distress, Native Americans, a gold mine, a crooked sheriff, posses riding through the landscape, stagecoaches, et al. It stars Randolph Scott, who made exclusively Westerns from 1948 until 1962; his last film was Ride the High Country for Sam Peckinpah after several austerely beautiful films for Budd Boetticher. The movie Western started to die out in the 50's when Westerns became a television staple, starting with "The Hopalong Cassidy Show" in 1949, but the 50's also provided some of the great Westerns -- of Boetticher, Hawks, Ford, Anthony Mann -- by using outdoor locations and color when TV used tiny indoor studio sets and was only in black-and-white. In its twelfth season, 1966, "Gunsmoke" was produced in color and everything changed.
Colt .45 was one of a series that emphasized particular guns (others included Anthony Mann's Winchester 73 in 1950 and Andre De Toth's Springfield Rifle in 1952) and their role in the West. When Colt salesman Randolph Scott has his guns stolen by Zachary Scott (no relation) Randolph tracks down the guns to see that they are used for good by the law, as they were intended to be (shades of today's gun controversies). When Zachary's bunch kills Indians and then impersonates them to rob stagecoaches the Indians side with Randolph, who saves one of them. The Indians, however, are looking out for themselves because, as Chief Thundercloud says, "the law has never been a friend to the Indian." And here is a good time to mention that no matter what the casual observer may think, the Western has always been sympathetic to the cause of the Native American, from D.W. Griffith's The Redman's View in 1909 through George B. Seitz's The Vanishing American in 1925 and John Ford's Westerns of the 40's and 50's, ending with Cheyenne Autumn in 1964.
Marin's career was mostly devoted to the efficient direction of B films, meaning that he moved the camera only when he had to. At the end of Colt .45 there is a lovely shot, after Randolph shoots Zachary, of the camera tracking rapidly toward the woman Randolph now loves, as they are already together in their minds.
Colt .45 was one of a series that emphasized particular guns (others included Anthony Mann's Winchester 73 in 1950 and Andre De Toth's Springfield Rifle in 1952) and their role in the West. When Colt salesman Randolph Scott has his guns stolen by Zachary Scott (no relation) Randolph tracks down the guns to see that they are used for good by the law, as they were intended to be (shades of today's gun controversies). When Zachary's bunch kills Indians and then impersonates them to rob stagecoaches the Indians side with Randolph, who saves one of them. The Indians, however, are looking out for themselves because, as Chief Thundercloud says, "the law has never been a friend to the Indian." And here is a good time to mention that no matter what the casual observer may think, the Western has always been sympathetic to the cause of the Native American, from D.W. Griffith's The Redman's View in 1909 through George B. Seitz's The Vanishing American in 1925 and John Ford's Westerns of the 40's and 50's, ending with Cheyenne Autumn in 1964.
Marin's career was mostly devoted to the efficient direction of B films, meaning that he moved the camera only when he had to. At the end of Colt .45 there is a lovely shot, after Randolph shoots Zachary, of the camera tracking rapidly toward the woman Randolph now loves, as they are already together in their minds.
Monday, April 16, 2018
Anthony Powell's Faces in My Time
The writing of today, in winning an absolute freedom of expression within certain hitherto prohibited areas, has proportionately lost ground where much could formerly be said with effortless grace.
-- Anthony Powell, Faces in My Time: The Memoirs of Anthony Powell, v. III (Holt, Rinehart and Winston; 1980)h
This volume covers the years 1934-1951, when Powell published his fourth and fifth novels, married Violet Pakenham, went to Hollywood to find a job scriptwriting and served in WW II in the Welch Regiment and the intelligence corps. During the war Powell also published a biography of the 17th C. writer John Aubrey, whom Powell describes as "a writer in whom a new sort of sensibility is apparent, the appreciation of the oddness of the individual human being." Powell himself delights in such oddness and we get vivid portraits of known (to me) personalities such as Macolm Muggeridge and F. Scott Fitzgerald (whom Powell met in 1937 when Powell was looking for a writing job in Hollywood after working in England for Warner Brothers on "quota quickies") and unknown (to me) personalities such as banker Harry d'Avigdor-Goldsmid and translator Alexander Dru.
Powell also has a great deal to say about the army and the necessity of improvisation when dealing with military regulations and also much to say about literature, high and low. After the war Powell became a regular reviewer of books for a number of periodicals ("self-pity is an all but invariable element of the best seller," he once said) but it seems to be either he does not feel passion or, more likely, does not express it, not for the art he likes or for his wife and children. I suppose this lack of passion is not surprising for an Englishman born in 1905. Nonetheless Faces in My Time is full of sharp observation and intelligent analysis of the period 1934 to 1951 in England.
-- Anthony Powell, Faces in My Time: The Memoirs of Anthony Powell, v. III (Holt, Rinehart and Winston; 1980)h
This volume covers the years 1934-1951, when Powell published his fourth and fifth novels, married Violet Pakenham, went to Hollywood to find a job scriptwriting and served in WW II in the Welch Regiment and the intelligence corps. During the war Powell also published a biography of the 17th C. writer John Aubrey, whom Powell describes as "a writer in whom a new sort of sensibility is apparent, the appreciation of the oddness of the individual human being." Powell himself delights in such oddness and we get vivid portraits of known (to me) personalities such as Macolm Muggeridge and F. Scott Fitzgerald (whom Powell met in 1937 when Powell was looking for a writing job in Hollywood after working in England for Warner Brothers on "quota quickies") and unknown (to me) personalities such as banker Harry d'Avigdor-Goldsmid and translator Alexander Dru.
Powell also has a great deal to say about the army and the necessity of improvisation when dealing with military regulations and also much to say about literature, high and low. After the war Powell became a regular reviewer of books for a number of periodicals ("self-pity is an all but invariable element of the best seller," he once said) but it seems to be either he does not feel passion or, more likely, does not express it, not for the art he likes or for his wife and children. I suppose this lack of passion is not surprising for an Englishman born in 1905. Nonetheless Faces in My Time is full of sharp observation and intelligent analysis of the period 1934 to 1951 in England.
Wednesday, April 11, 2018
Yankees and Mets April 8, 2018
Both the Yankees and Mets played twelve-inning games on Sunday: the Mets won 6-5 over the Nationals and the Yankees lost 8-7 to the Orioles. The Orioles scored a run in the top of the 12th and in the bottom of the 12th the Yankees loaded the bases with no outs and Judge and Stanton coming up. Judge hit a comebacker to the pitcher who threw home and the catcher threw to third to complete the double play. Then Stanton struck out to end the game. Stanton has struck out 20 times in 42 at-bats this season and, as Wallace Matthews wrote in The New York Times: "To put that into perspective, consider that Joe DiMaggio struck out 13 times in all of 1941, a season in which he won one of his three American League Most Valuable Player Awards."
Meanwhile, down in Washington the Mets won in the 12th with a single by Juan Lagares, a sacrifice bunt by Amed Rosario and a single by Yoenis Cespedes. Mets new manager Mickey Callaway has adapted quickly to the National League while neophyte Yankees manager Aaron Boone just watches his sluggers and pitchers fall apart after his team scored five runs in the first inning. When Rosario lay down his sacrifice bunt ESPN announcer Jessica Mendoza demurred, saying the analytics show that one should not sacrifice because the chances of scoring a run with no outs and a runner on first are better than with two outs and a runner on second. This may be true, but like too much of analyses of this kind it totally leaves out the individuals involved. So the sacrifice bunt, the stolen base, the hit-and-run are all eschewed while we tediously wait for the occasional home run. And by the way, if we are not going to waste time throwing four balls for an intentional walk why do we have to waste time while the game stops dead so that the home run hitter can circle the bases?
Meanwhile, down in Washington the Mets won in the 12th with a single by Juan Lagares, a sacrifice bunt by Amed Rosario and a single by Yoenis Cespedes. Mets new manager Mickey Callaway has adapted quickly to the National League while neophyte Yankees manager Aaron Boone just watches his sluggers and pitchers fall apart after his team scored five runs in the first inning. When Rosario lay down his sacrifice bunt ESPN announcer Jessica Mendoza demurred, saying the analytics show that one should not sacrifice because the chances of scoring a run with no outs and a runner on first are better than with two outs and a runner on second. This may be true, but like too much of analyses of this kind it totally leaves out the individuals involved. So the sacrifice bunt, the stolen base, the hit-and-run are all eschewed while we tediously wait for the occasional home run. And by the way, if we are not going to waste time throwing four balls for an intentional walk why do we have to waste time while the game stops dead so that the home run hitter can circle the bases?
Tuesday, April 10, 2018
Roy Rowland's The Moonlighter 1953
The moonlighter is a cattle rustler who rustles by the light of the moon. Fred MacMurray is in jail waiting to be hung when a lynch mob comes to get him and takes the wrong man while MacMurray escapes and watches the man being hanged. After MacMurray takes revenge on the ranchers in the lynch mob he heads home and takes up bank robbing with Ward Bond and his own brother, who is planning to marry MacMurray's old sweetheart Barbara Stanwyck. When MacMurray's brother is killed while helping to rob a bank where he had worked, Stanwyck is deputized to track down Bond and MacMurray, who have escaped in the only motorcar in town. Stanwyck kills Bond and then Macmurray agrees to turn himself in if Stanwyck will wait for him (which could be a long, long time).
This summary does not begin to detail all the twists and turns in Niven Busch's dark screenplay (he also wrote Raoul Walsh's Pursued in 1949). Unfortunately director Rowland is not up to the complexities of the script and directs rather flatly. Even though the film was originally made in 3-D there are no effects specific to 3-D (such as objects hurled at the audience) in the current version available. Cinematographer Bert Glennon, who worked often with John Ford, has a feeling for the shadows and subtleties of a Western landscape shot in black-and-white. Throughout the 50's MacMurray tried to move from comedy to more rugged roles, just as James Stewart had (see my review of Nathan Juran's A Good Day for a Hanging 1959 on April 20,2016, a more successful attempt by MacMurray) but never had the right good directors (Anthony Mann, Alfred Hitchcock) that Stewart had and eventually MacMurray moved on to Disney movies and television, though not before making the exquisite There's Always Tomorrow in 1956, directed by Douglas Sirk, with Barbara Stanwyck.
Puppetworks April 8, 2018
On March 20 I wrote about a Puppetworks marionette show; on April 8 we went to the Puppetworks sock puppet performance of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. The place was packed with young children, including our six-year-old daughter Victoria who came with my wife Susan, my son Gideon (now in college) and me. The show was adapted from the English folk-tale by Robert Southey, adapted for hand puppets by Jack Kaplan and directed by Michael Leach, with the inspired choice of the music by Bernard Herrmann from Alfred Hitchcock's "The Trouble with Harry." The low-tech production was in the Puppetworks small and intimate performance space and more charming than a Punch and Judy show, with plenty of animals and humor, including lots of puns. After the story was told, with delightful cut-out sets, there was singing, dancing and magic tricks by the puppets.
Monday, April 9, 2018
Robert Aldrich's The Big Leaguer (1953)
There are few good movies about baseball, perhaps because baseball is more an immediate kind of thing and perhaps, as disastrously poor television broadcasts show, there is a difficult tension between the individuals and the team and their relationship with each other. This makes for a wonderful sport but not great television or movies.
Two of the best movies about baseball, The Big Leaguer and Kill the Umpire (1949) are successful because they are about the fringe elements of baseball: the minor leaguers and the umpires. The Big Leaguer was Robert Aldrich's first film as a director, after being assistant to Chaplin and Jean Renoir and then directing TV. He makes the most of the low budget and was lucky to get the intense Edward G. Robinson (then being greylisted for his liberal views and having trouble getting work) for the tough-but-fair coach of the two-week tryout camp for the New York Giants. He also had the dancer Vera-Ellen as the one woman in the cast, reminding one that baseball and ballet both require beauty of movement. Unfortunately there are no African-Americans among the tryouts though the Giants had their first African-American player in 1949, Monte Irvin.
Aldrich was eventually known for his corrosive views of America (Kiss Me Deadly in 1955 and Ulzana's Raid in 1972, along with many other films) but even The Big Leaguer captures the sink-or-swim attitude of many in the 50's (not to mention today!). Those who don't make it in the camp go back to their home towns to work in mines or factories. Those who do make it go into the minor leagues for a salary of $150 a month; few will actually make it to the majors and even there probably won't be paid too well in an era when the team owners had the reserve clause and all the power.
Two of the best movies about baseball, The Big Leaguer and Kill the Umpire (1949) are successful because they are about the fringe elements of baseball: the minor leaguers and the umpires. The Big Leaguer was Robert Aldrich's first film as a director, after being assistant to Chaplin and Jean Renoir and then directing TV. He makes the most of the low budget and was lucky to get the intense Edward G. Robinson (then being greylisted for his liberal views and having trouble getting work) for the tough-but-fair coach of the two-week tryout camp for the New York Giants. He also had the dancer Vera-Ellen as the one woman in the cast, reminding one that baseball and ballet both require beauty of movement. Unfortunately there are no African-Americans among the tryouts though the Giants had their first African-American player in 1949, Monte Irvin.
Aldrich was eventually known for his corrosive views of America (Kiss Me Deadly in 1955 and Ulzana's Raid in 1972, along with many other films) but even The Big Leaguer captures the sink-or-swim attitude of many in the 50's (not to mention today!). Those who don't make it in the camp go back to their home towns to work in mines or factories. Those who do make it go into the minor leagues for a salary of $150 a month; few will actually make it to the majors and even there probably won't be paid too well in an era when the team owners had the reserve clause and all the power.
Tuesday, April 3, 2018
John Connolly's A Time of Torment (2016)
It was the clientele that brought the tone of the place down. If they weren't the dregs of humanity, they were at least on nodding terms with them on this particular Saturday afternoon.
--John Connolly, A Time of Torment (Atria, 2016).
I've been reading Connolly's Charlie Parker novels since the first one, Every Dead Thing (1999), and I find them quite elegantly written and full of insight into the best and worst of humanity. I do admit that I have never been enamored on the supernatural/fantasy/horror elements in some of them: life can be horrible enough without bringing in the occult elements. So I like the Parker novels where the fantasy is kept to a minimum, as it is in A Time of Torment, whose cynical theme could be that no good deed goes unpunished. Parker takes the case of a man who has been framed on child pornography charges and is out of jail after five nightmarish years. This leads Parker to a cult of sorts in the South, an extreme example of the worst of humanity in an area where others, including the law, fear to go.
The day dawned bright and clear: blue skies, the barest fragment of a cloud, and a sense of the world transforming itself once again, the beauty of fall still lingering but the trees barer than before, and arrowheads of geese drifting high above, less like birds than the impression of them, as of a child's hurried marks on a blue page.
Connolly is an Irish writer who with his impressive style sees the beauty of nature contrasted with the ugliness of much of humanity, as Parker and his friends function as avenging angels trying to bring some justice to the world through necessary violence.
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