"The Four Feathers" with John Clements and C. Aubrey Smith (1939)

Have you ever wondered how an old favorite film would hold up after several years? Can it still measure up to the thrill of your memory? This one does all that and then surpasses itself. The sheer scope and message of this film rings even louder than it did in 1939 when it was first released. They did a remake of it in 2002 with Heath Ledger. I got through about 15 minutes of it before hitting the eject/reject button.

This is the story of a young man who has been through military school and is the youngest member of a family of soldiers going back centuries. It has always been his presumed destiny to follow in their steps. He and his 4 friends are chomping at the bit waiting for a war to break out so they can go off on their big adventure.

But when war does break out in Khartoum one of them begins to question the whole sanity of fighting. He has fallen in love and spoken of this feeling with his fiancée many times; and she agrees with him. At least until the flag waving and parades begin as the soldiers head off to Africa for the fight. Then she becomes ashamed of him.

As if losing the love of the woman he loves is not enough he also loses the friendship of his 3 best friends who are doing their duty and going off to fight as planned. His former comrades; as well as his fiancée; each send him a white feather, a symbol of cowardice. He can only redeem himself by returning the feathers after doing a courageous deed. It seems as if all is lost.

Now heroes come in all shapes and sizes; and heroics do not always follow a set form. What this young man does o redeem his honor and respect will astound you. Going off to war as a group; under the color of a flag; is fairly easy. The artificial camaraderie of group action can have a calming effect, and things you formerly thought impossible become almost second nature.

But when you have to face your own demons; rather than a common enemy, all alone; a different form of courage becomes necessary. The question then becomes not when, but how you will acquit yourself and recover the honor which others perceived to be lost. The answer may be that your honor was never lost to begin with; it just took a different form.

This is a truly classic film produced and directed by the Korda Brothers; Zoltan and Alexander. Remarkable character roles filled by the likes of C. Aubrey Smith; and a screenplay by R. D. Sherriff combine to prove that they just don’t make films like this anymore.

"Owd Bob" with James Cromwell (1998)

We have all seen James Cromwell act in a score of movies. Sometimes you might not recognize him. He looks the same, but his thespian abilities sometimes make him unrecognizable to the audience. It’s called acting. Not the type you expect from Bogart, or even DeNiro; though both are fine actors. It’s just that they are almost always playing an extension of their own personalities. Not so with Mr. Cromwell.

In this touching story widower Adam MacAdam; played brilliantly by James Cromwell; finds himself with custody of his grandson, David. The boy is on a trial visit for the summer from America, where his parents were recently killed in a car crash.  MacAdam is skeptical of the whole idea, but agrees to it out of a sense of duty, rather than love for the boy, whom he has never met.

The old man raises sheep and sheepdogs. The dog’s job it is to keep the sheep moving and grazing, as well as protect them from any predators. The complication occurs when an unknown dog; believed to belong to old man MacAdam; begins killing sheep. Tradition; and local law; hold that when a dog kills a sheep the owner of the dog must “put him down.” But MacAdam insists that the culprit is not his dog Zac, and refuses to submit to putting him down.

David finds comfort in the company of a neighboring family; the Moores; who also raise sheep and dogs. Keith Moore; played by Colm Meaney; is the son of old man MacAdam’s biggest rival, and though the elder Moore is dead, old man MacAdam has never forgiven him and carries the grudge forward to the younger Moore. In addition, Owd Bob, the dog belonging to Moore, was sired by a dog that had killed sheep before and was put down. In the mind of old man MacAdam, Owd Bob is the likely culprit.

As David becomes close with the Moore’s daughter Maggie; played by Jemima Rooper; friction erupts between David and his grandfather. When her mother dies the two become even closer and David moves in with the Moore’s while he awaits assignment to a foster home. There is no way that the boy and his grandfather can ever bridge the divide caused by past events which occurred before David was even born. The old man is just too stubborn and bitter.

As the people on the island lose patience with the dog that is killing their sheep, they gather as a group and demand that Keith Moore put his dog down, thinking that the culprit is Owd Bob. David knows differently and tries to stop them, but they are all as stubborn as the old man; including Mr. Moore, who is even willing to put his own beloved dog down without looking too hard for the truth.

I will not tell you how this film ends; only that the end will have quite an impact upon you. This is a film which will make you think about all the times in your life that you may have been wrong and judged things too harshly, too soon. It is also a film about taking responsibility for those mistakes and healing broken bridges.

Beautifully filmed on the Isle of Man; tightly directed and well-acted by all; this is the film of which Mr. Cromwell should be the most proud. All of his other performances; as brilliant as they are; pale in comparison with the depth of emotion it must have taken to play this role. His performance here stands as a monument to his long and varied career.

Directed by Rodney Gibbons and written by Sharon Buckingham and Harry Alan Towers, this film has been delighting audiences since it was first released in 1998. It will undoubtedly stand the test of time.

_________________________________________

Lakefront Restaurant at the Hilton Hotel

Sue and I had dinner at the Lakefront Restaurant last night. The restaurant is in the Hilton Hotel at J.M. Keynes Drive in the University area of Charlotte. Cody, our server, was delightful and accommodating in all respects.

I had the Sea Bass with capers and olives and sautéed Spinach. Sue had a Beef Tenderloin and we both shared an Arugula salad which was exceptionally well made.

There is a new Sous Chef, Mike Hancock, in the kitchen now. Cody bought him out to say hello so that we could compliment him on the cuisine.

Hotel restaurants don't always receive the credit they deserve. People take them for granted, figuring, "well I'm staying here so I may as well eat in the hotel."

Sue and I have eaten at the Lakefront before, but even we tend to forget about it often when we are wondering where to eat. And then when we do eat there we wonder why we don't do so more often.

With Mike in the kitchen; and Cody seeing to our comfort in the dining room; we will be back again sooner than later. Thanks Mike and Cody for a wonderful dining experience.

The Jews of Kaifeng (1990)

As promised here is the story about one of the last Jews in the town of Kaifeng, China. Like the article on the 2 Afghan Jews, this is also something from a newspaper which I clipped at the time. And, as with the other, it was kind of a surprise to find it after so many years. This one is actually a photocopy of the original article, which appeared in the Baltimore Sun on July 22, 1990.

It’s really kind of a Passover story in a way. But I thought I’d better get it done now, rather than wait the 2 weeks until Passover, as the article has been lying about for 24 years since I’ve clipped it and if I don’t do this now it could be another 24 years before I see the article again. As they say, there is no time like the present.

Zhao Pingyu is, according to this article, one of the last Jews in China. At the time of the article he was a 69 year old retired tax collector living in a one room house in Kaifeng. It is a far cry from the once thriving village which was home to a substantial Jewish population, even boasting its own temple. Stone markers placed by missionaries in the 18^th Century mark the spot where a hospital now sits.

The Jews first arrived as traders in about 900 A.D. They were traders traveling the old Silk Road, who numbered in the thousands and by 1183 had built their own temple. It was called the Purity and Truth Synagogue. They were known by the Chinese as the “sinew plucking people” due to the habit of removing the sinews from the meat they ate in accordance with Kosher dietary laws. They were also respected for their treatment of the poor. There are several tablets in the town, some dating back to 1489, which commemorate the high regard in which the Jewish people of Kaifeng were held.

As the years passed the Jews of Kaifeng assimilated into Chinese life, much as they would wherever they went. They took the Imperial Examinations; which were like our Civil Service Exams; and became trusted members of the society, some even rising to the height of Mandarins.

When the last of their Rabbis passed away about 1810 the community began to lose much of its Jewish roots and character. And as society changed the Jews of Kaifeng found themselves growing into poverty, selling many of their prized religious artifacts in order to survive. The Torah scrolls, the holy books, the candles all went to British missionaries. The once proud synagogue was allowed to crumble into ruins.

Mr. Zhao kept the faith alive even while not knowing much about it. When this news article appeared in 1990 he expressed his love for the Passover holiday. He lit candles in observance of it. He even told the story of people dabbing lambs blood on their door frames before eating a dinner of lamb and reciting prayers. He even lit candles each Friday evening at sundown, but he had no idea why.

Jews in Kabul - 2002

This is a very unusual story that came out of Afghanistan in 2002. It’s a Chanukah story. It’s also a story of division; like that of the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s; where no one knows why the trouble started, but neither is anybody going to give in anytime soon.

I save unusual news articles; have for years. I used to keep them tucked into books and crannies; and a couple of nooks here and there. These days I scan them, but every now and again I find one while re-reading a book, or putting my many stacks of papers in order. And I’m almost always pleasantly surprised by what I find.

Not much for me to write here aside from re-capping the story. It’s all in the article above, and I haven’t really got anything to add to it. Basically the story is of two men; both Jews; living in Afghanistan around the time of the American invasion after the events of 9-11.

Ishak Levin; a Persian Jew; pictured above, was 72 years old at the time. As a Jew he was a rarity in Afghanistan at the time. He lived a few doors down from the only other Jew around, Zebulaon Simentov, 42 years old, who hailed from Turkmanistan. The only conversation they would have that years was to ascertain whether or not it was, indeed, the first night of Chanukah.

Then they went off to light their candles separately, with Levin remarking that their families have celebrated Chanukah for thousands of years, but never with Simentov. He claims it is “not possible.”

When you read a story like this you have to wonder if there is any real hope for humanity. Here’s 2 Jews; living in the midst of people who would love nothing more than to see them dead; yet they can’t seem to unite even for one night to pray together.

And if you think this story is good, wait until next week when I post the one about the last Jew living in a small town in China…

Friday the 13th

Due to the possibility of something going amiss for the 13^th, I have elected to post the following, which has no value or purpose, meaning that perhaps nobody will stop by here today. So, good luck, don’t walk under any ladders and don’t let my black cat, Midnight, cross your path. As a matter of fact, I will be spending a good portion of the day avoiding him just to be safe.

Superstition may be just that, superstition. But mix it in with a few coincidences and you have what seemingly become facts.  So, I neither flaunt, nor embrace superstition. I do my best to ignore it. That’s why I’m not posting today; because I don’t believe that anything will go wrong. It’s just that sometimes I get this funny little feeling…

“Il Transporto di Cristo al Sepolcro” - Antonio Ciseri (1870)

“The Transport of Christ to the Sepulcher" by Antonio Ciseri is one of the most harrowing of all the paintings concerning Good Friday. It was painted over a period of 6 years, between 1864 and 1870 in Italy. Ciseri was actually born in Switzerland, but by age 12 he was studying under the tutelage of Ernesto Bonaivuti and later, Giuseppe Bezzuoli, both of whom would inform his works with their own unique styles.

In this dark and foreboding painting Christ is being carried by the Faithful to the Sepulcher, from which he would miraculously rise on what became known as Easter Sunday. The imagery is not the standard one of Christ borne on the cross; or even hung upon one. Rather, the artists intent seems to have been geared more towards humanizing Jesus as body and flesh; as someone who was once touched by others, just as he once touched them.

No matter what your religious beliefs; I happen to be Jewish; the solemnity of Good Friday, encompassing Faith within its sorrow, cannot be ignored. Without Faith, there can be no good deeds, and without good deeds there can never be Salvation. This holds true not only for Christians, but for people of any Faith who believe in something higher than just themselves.

"Life Is Like a Mountain Railroad" - Jerry Lee Lewis (1983)

Jerry Lee Lewis grew up in a religious atmosphere. His two cousins; the legendary Mickey Gilley and Jimmy Swaggart,  also made their fortunes entertaining people using the gospel; Mickey as a performer, and  Jimmy as a preacher; entertaining people in his own unique way. But  Jerry Lee took a slightly different path, and wound up entertaining people by playing rock and roll, with gospel music, also making a fortune in the bargain. See the difference? Neither do I.

This recording of the iconic country ballad “Life Is Like a Mountain Railroad” was evidently inspired by Mr. Lewis knowing the song; which was written in 1890; coupled with his having just recently seen the TV movie “Mr. Horn”, with David Carradine and Richard Widmark. That film was made for TV and later remade into the feature film “Tom Horn” with Steve McQueen. It’s the story of an overly idealistic frontiersman, cavalry scout and bounty hunter who takes things too far, and is hung for his excesses in 1903.

The book was originally written as a novel by William Goldman and found its way to television in the late 1970’s. Apparently, Mr. Lewis had seen the film and remembered the old gospel song from his youth. The song was written by a Baptist Minister named M.E. Abbey as a hymn, with the only written part being the chorus. The other lyrics were added later by Eliza R. Snow. Curiously the song was copyrighted in 1890 by Abbey and Tillman, with no mention of Ms. Snow’s contribution. The song has been a staple in country music for almost a century now, with recordings by just about everybody from the Carter Family to Linda Ronstadt.

The message in the song is pretty clear; life is like a mountain railway, with cliffs on one side and a steep wall of rock on the other. That’s the path of the “straight and narrow”. No room for error. The engineer is all of us, who must work hard at keeping the train on the track against the overwhelming obstacles which life constantly heaps in our path. And of course, there is always someone who watches over us, lending an unseen hand when the going gets too rough for us to handle.

"Life Is Like A Mountain Railroad"

Life is like a mountain railroad

With an engineer so brave

We must make this run successful

From the cradle to the grave

Watch the curves, the fills the tunnels

Never falter, never fail

Keep your hand upon the throttle

And your eye upon the rail.

Oh, blessed Savior, thou wilt guide us

Til we reach that blissful shore

Where the angels wait to join us

In God's grace forever more.

As you roll across the trestle

Spanning Jordan's swelling tide

You behold the union depot

Into which your train will glide

There you'll meet the superintendent

God the Father, God the Son

With a hearty, joyous greeting

Weary pilgrim, welcome home.