We’ve got a new episode of Fixed In Post up and ready to listen to! In this episode, Pete Peterson and John Barber talk about the new movie Us.Read More ›
Last year about this time, Jennifer and I watched a movie called Risen about the aftermath of the Crucifixion. The film turned out to be mostly good (which is saying a lot considering Jesus literally takes off like a rocket ship during the ascension).
I have a difficult time watching film adaptations of biblical stories because when they come from a Christian production team, they tend to misunderstand the art of filmmaking and storytelling, and when they come from secular production teams, they tend to misunderstand Christianity. Rare is the film that lands in the middle. Risen, however, took a unique perspective on the Resurrection story and mostly succeeded. I considered it a win.
So why was Jennifer crying when it ended?Read More ›
Last year, a wild, devastating galactic ride called Infinity War roared into the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I shared my thoughts in a post here at the Rabbit Room because I couldn’t contain my enthusiasm. Now I find myself in the same situation, this time with the newest MCU film, Captain Marvel. So just like last time, let me emphasize that this article assumes you have seen the movie. Major spoilers ahead!Read More ›
You don’t have to spend too much time with John Barber or me to figure out that we love the movies. And for the past few years we’ve contributed to the Rabbit Room Podcast with our film discussions in a variety of episodes. But now with the launch of the podcast network, we’re moving our love for film into a podcast of our own.Read More ›
Every year, we compile all our favorite books, albums, TV shows, films, and more from that year and post them here for everyone’s mutual edification. Now that 2018 has come and gone, here are our choices. What were some of your favorites from 2018? Post them in the comments section below!Read More ›
I lay on a cold metal table, pondering death and mortality, while Theo Huxtable dragged a scalpel down the middle of my chest.
My husband is a crier in movies; I am not. Occasionally something will tug out a tear or two, but it’s rare. And weeping? Unheard of.
Confession: I was a blubbering mess by the end of Mary Poppins Returns.
One of the more odd Christmas traditions that my wife and I have developed over the last few years is re-watching all of the Christmas episodes from everyone’s favorite workplace comedy, The Office.
WARNING: Spoilers of certain films and stories follow.
So tonight is Halloween, or maybe for some of you, time for a church “Harvest Festival.” It’s essentially the same thing. Your kids will eat a year’s worth of candy in one night (unless, of course, you’re one of those boring parents who hands out apples and juice boxes), and everyone will dress up, just as long as there are no bloody Scream masks or witch costumes. Whatever your tradition is on the night of October 31st, the dark, spooky themes of horror films are inescapable this time of year.
[Editor’s note: This piece was written by our friend Mary McCampbell, who we are excited to have at Hutchmoot this year. Enjoy, and be sure to check out her session if you plan to attend.]
A few years ago, when preparing notes for a class discussion on Terence Malick’s 2011 film, The Tree of Life, I began to feel very uncomfortable about typing notes and viewing the film simultaneously.
I remember when I had no imagination for how ugly the process of redemption can look. It seems like that change in the landscape of my mind marks the point in life when I could say with certainty that I had grown up. In that moment, whatever or whenever it was, hope suddenly meant something different, something heavy and precious. It wasn’t pretty—not in the traditional sense of the word anyway. Learning to carry it hurt me, and I had to get used to the weight of something so worth holding, so demanding of a firm grip.
I think we wind up saying to others what we need to hear the most. We know what’s right and true, but it doesn’t always sink into our own skin. Perhaps that’s why we keep telling other people about it over and over again—we need the repetition.
I’ve consoled friends over coffee, speaking Holy Spirit-inspired words of wisdom, while internally chuckling at the irony that whatever I’m saying is what I should be doing. I’ve written talks preaching the importance of reflection and discipline that I so desperately need, yet often fail to maintain. When I manage to write a lyric that hits home, it’s usually not because I’ve mastered the sentiment behind it, but because it’s what I need to be reminded of. In this place of knowing the truth but doubting that I’ve fully grasped it, I’ve seen a film that makes me feel less alone.