The Cinema of Kerry Shirts

[_Doctor Scratch]

I know this was discussed some time ago, but I felt that a more formal sort of review was in order. Thus, in honor of the late Pauline Kael, I proffer my humble critique of the Cinema of Kerry Shirts.

The FAIR Conference 2009 - Part I: 1 1/2 Stars.

This installment features Shirts's signature voice over, all while the camera is pointed out the window of his moving vehicle while he exclaims and ejaculates about the significance of a "volcano!" Cinepro rightly pointed out on an old thread that Shirts is reminiscent of the bumpkinish California PBS host Huell Howser. (Howser was once parodied on an episode of The Simpsons; in fact, he was literally shown falling off a turnip truck.) Shirts's voice, for those who have not seen the film, sounds kind of like Jimmy Stewart on a heavy doze of crystal meth, and his cinematographic style, with its shaky camera movements, is like a Kitchen Sink Realism verite. I vote that we call it Green Jello Verite. I think that more or less sums up Shirts's cinematic aesthetic.

In any event, I didn't care much for this entry in his oeuvre. My favorite character in the film was actually what looks like an unfortunate crack spanning the length of Shirts's vehicle's windshield. I was moved by its plainspoken charm, and its apparent allusion to the mud-speckled jeep that featured so prominently in the Midgley-Roper assault on Sandra Tanner. (Shirts is sly with his allusions to Mopologetic lore.)

Finally, something needs to be said about the building in which the conference was held. Architectually speaking, this is an abomination. Further, why does it say "Gift Show" on the banner above the doors? Did somebody forget to take this down prior to the FAIR conference? Were the conference organizers trying to trick people into attending? It seems odd, in any case---a Jarmuschian throwaway detail.

Parts II & III: Zero Stars.

Shirts is at his best when he is running the show. Sadly, in these two installments (is this Shirts's own version of Kieslowski's Decalogue?) his lapdoggish admiration for his interview subject gets the better of him. It's clear that Shirts loves Brant Gardner. It's clear that he doesn't want to step on his toes, or interrupt his train of thought, etc. The result, though, is motionless, static cinema. Gardner is a wooden and uninteresting interview subject, and let's face it: no one is interested in Mr. Shirts's salivations, and consequently, this installment falls flat.

More reviews coming soon....

[_Trevor]

Still, I am glad Kerry films these things. It is nice to be able to put faces to the posts on various boards and blogs. I met Kevin Barney at Sunstone and was very pleased to shake hands with one of my favorite apologists.

[_Ray A]

Still, I am glad Kerry films these things. It is nice to be able to put faces to the posts on various boards and blogs. I met Kevin Barney at Sunstone and was very pleased to shake hands with one of my favorite apologists.

An interesting little snippet I picked up about Kevin Barney is that he was about to toss out the Book of Mormon as history, until he read Blake Ostler's Expansion Theory in 1987.

Updating the Expansion Theory.

Scroll down to post no. 123.

[_CaliforniaKid]

An interesting little snippet I picked up about Kevin Barney is that he was about to toss out the Book of Mormon as history, until he read Blake Ostler's Expansion Theory in 1987.

Interesting!

[_Brackite]

Welcome Back, Doctor Scratch!!!

[_Dr. Shades]

This installment features Shirts's signature voice over, all while the camera is pointed out the window of his moving vehicle while he exclaims and ejaculates about the significance of a "volcano!"

Yeah, I saw that. Someone needs to do a parody of him getting into a wreck because he was filming out his window instead of watching the road.

Shirts's voice, for those who have not seen the film, sounds kind of like Jimmy Stewart on a heavy dose of crystal meth, . . .

LOL!!

More reviews coming soon....

Good. Keep 'em coming!

[_Doctor Scratch]

On to the next installment:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IP10lSolnkA

The FAIR Conference 2009, Pt. IV & V: 1 1/2 stars.

This edition of Shirts's meisterwerk wraps up the tedious interview with Brant Gardner and segues--by way of a jarring jump-cut--into the interview with "Dr. Scott Woodward." The interviewee in this segment has been pushed flat up against an disquieting concrete slab, so that it looks as if he's being interrogated in some room deep in Guantanamo....or the SCMC.

This episode of the series is slightly better than the last couple, mainly because Woodward is a more interesting interview subject. "I'm a geneticist," he says, "and that involves DNA." At this point, the camera dollies in to lock on firmly to Woodward's somewhat perturbed-looking face. As Shirts maneuvers into the key questions of the interview, Dr. Woodward rocks back on forth on his feet, his eyes bulging uncomfortably from his face---it's clear that he's bothered by the problems. In fact, Auteur Shirts has to keep reminding him to speak up. His defense of Lamanite DNA is little more than a whisper, it seems.

Coming soon....

Why is Lou Gentine, the pitchman for Sargento Cheese, at the FAIR conference?

[Guest]

(beware of spoilers)

Thank you Professor Scratch. Because of your review, I ended up enjoying two flims yesterday, Kerry's and the new Tarantino production. I have to say I consider Tarantino's film to be the greater success, but both offer a wealth of material for interpreting Mopologetics. You really tied things together to my mind with this comment:

In any event, I didn't care much for this entry in his oeuvre. My favorite character in the film was actually what looks like an unfortunate crack spanning the length of Shirts's vehicle's windshield. I was moved by its plainspoken charm, and its apparent allusion to the mud-speckled jeep that featured so prominently in the Midgley-Roper assault on Sandra Tanner. (Shirts is sly with his allusions to Mopologetic lore.)

I agree that this made for a fascinating allusion to the "dirty work" of apologetics that is concealed by sophistication and appreciation of culture. As an interpretive device, consider the character of Colonel Landa, a caricature of culture without humanity. A character who, much like the apologist, controls his situations by his ability to spot "rubes" ten miles away and exploit their weaknesses through his mastery of foreign languages and culture without every really needing to address what would seem to be the relevant subject matter directly.

But, there is a problem for Landa, because "dirty work" conceptually is linked closely to the rube, the mean, uneducated, and gap of toothed who settle their problems with violence - note his counterpart, Lieutenant Raine. Landa himself does not personally dirty his hands until the end of the film. And it would seem, as if in a gesture of seeking sanctification, sits at a table with his adversaries, offers them wine, and expresses admiration for their work. Though he shouldn't have been surpised, it appears that he was as the admiration would go urequited. His failure to bond, and thereby redeem himself in the eyes of Raine would end with an angry outburst and loss of cool at the end of the film.

It is in fact, within these fully developed relationships between symbols in Tarantino's film that we find the importance of Kerry's work, and his "crack in the windshield." Kerry promotes himself as the common man, and he becomes the common man appropriately worshipful of his elite seniors. But in a stunning reversal, it is his cracked windshield through which we gaze to find legitimacy for the anger of the elder apologists, as the otherwise carnoisseurs of European opera roll up in a muddied jeep for some "dirty work" and fully link the sophisticated, rude, violent, and revengeful.

[_Trevor]

I enjoyed the interview with Dr. Peterson. Talk about a nasty piece of work. I have never seen the likes of such diabolical, cynical evil. All I could do was gasp in horror.

[_Doctor Scratch]

Dean Robbers---

Thank you for your kind and thoughtful remarks. I agree completely. The apologists' use of culture is extraordinarily disquieting. It seems that there are very deep and immoral problems with the way(s) that apologists engage with art and culture.

The more I think about it, the more I am impressed with Shirts's prowess as a filmmaker. Sure: he's no Leni Riefenstahl, but his allusiveness and use of metaphor is extraordinarily sophisticated. And speaking of symbols, did you notice the striking red object on the wall behind Dr. Scott Woodward? Yes, that's right: it was a Fire Alarm light. Now that is interesting. What might Shirts be trying to tell us? Is he sending us a subliminal "Five Alarm" warning concerning Book of Mormon DNA apologetics? One final note: it seemed as if Dr. Woodward's five o'clock shadow actually got heavier during the interview---almost as if he was aging and growing more weary right before our eyes. I had always been under the impression that Shirts was a "garage" or "Kitchen Sink" sort of auteur, but it would appear that he employed a bit of CGI to achieve this particular effect.

Another word about Pt. V: at around 9:15, with a slight smudge on the right side of the lens, Shirts takes us on a tour through the crowd of loafers as they enjoy a "caesura" in the activities. Shirts notes dreamily (he almost sounds drugged or drunk, in fact) that the conference is "Well-attended." A bit later, he says, slurring slightly, "There's good ol' Kevin Barney. He's a good Hee-broo scholar."

Intriguingly, a number of the apologists in this tableau are sporting very close-shorn haircuts, so that they look rather like Skinheads, or members of hardcore biker gangs. Elsewhere in the crowd one can observe the standard baggy capri pants on females; puffy-looking old white men, and so forth.

The episode ends compellingly, with Shirts making liberal use of the zoom feature on his camcorder. Was it Michael Powell who first demonstrated the "phallic" nature of the camera, in his classic film, Peeping Tom? In any event, Shirts's camera "penetrates" that most sacred of apologetic venues: The Bookstore.

FAIR Conference 2009, Pt. VI--Having fun!: 3 1/2 stars.

This may be Shirts's finest work to date---clearly he is in Doris Wishman territory, quality-wise. The episode begins with the narrator noting the "pretty good convention area here." (Though it's obviously plain, quotidian, and dull. Is this an ironic comment on his part? A critique of Mopologetic taste in architecture?) He notes, "Big building," and we cannot help but be reminded of the "Great and Spacious Building" of the scriptures. Is Kerry Shirts actually a subversive filmmaker of the highest order?

A bit later, "Defender of the Year" Tyler Livingston approaches the camera with a revelation: "I don't know if you heard, but they got cookies o'er there." It appears for a moment as if he's sporting a bit of a shiner around his left eye. Then, in a self-reflexive moment, Shirts violates the Fourth Wall and turns the camera on himself. With the lens smudge concealing his lip movements, he says, rather cryptically, "We've been stealing cookies for the last half-hour." Off screen, Brother Livingston plangently observes, "That's why we're so fat." Perhaps without thinking, Shirts immediately zooms in on Steve Smoot, who is shoveling an ice cream sandwich into his twitchy maw.

At around 1:30, we spot Capo Regime Louis Midgley, swaying slightly and staring menacingly out through his auto-tint spectacles. He exudes fury and resentment even in his senescence. After this, we see a black-shirt-wearing, rather hulking individual who, from the back, looks just like Tony Soprano. In another striking linkage, we learn that this is Matt Roper--Midgley's accomplice in the Sandra Tanner assault. Kerry swings around for a "Good shot of Matt," and we get an eyeful of his rapier-nosed, porcine face, and his cobra's eyes. It's clear from his appearance alone why he's such a valued employee of the Maxwell Institute.

Then Kerry leads us into the inner sanctum---The Bookstore. There is a bit of delirium in this scene: Shirts keeps chanting, "Smile everyone. You're on Kerry Kamera. Kerry Kamera. Smile everyone. Smile everyone, you're on Kerry Kamera," and the effect is chilling---reminiscent of the brainwashing scenes from The Manchurian Candidate. And it gets even more disturbing from there: a Grand Guignol of documentary filmmaking, as it were. The camera swoops in and out of the crowd, apparently a nod to Scorsese's famous Steadicam shot in Goodfellas. He zeros in on a trio of individuals: John Lynch, Daniel C. Peterson, and an unnamed, youngish individual. For some strange reason, Shirts zooms in for extreme closeups of each person's left eye. What does this mean? Lynch's eye looks normal enough; DCP's eye is appropriately piggish and malicious ("The evil eye," he helpfully informs us); but when Shirts zooms in on the kid's eye... I have to tell you, humble reader, that I was chilled to the marrow when I saw that there is some kind of bloody mass glistening on this individual's eyeball. Fans of horror cinema will not be disappointed. The event occurs at 3:50. I don't know that I have ever been so creeped out befored---not even during The Exorcist. Both DCP and Shirts tell us that this is "The Mormon Eye." Make of that what you will. They all chortle with great merryment and mirth over this. The young man laughs, too, and he returns his attention to his ice cream sandwich and his aluminum can of lemonade---a stunning and revolting food/drink pairing which perfectly caps off this little horror show.

At around 4:40, the scene quickly changes from horrific to glumly humorless and sad, as Kerry and DCP try to "joke" about the fact of Mopologists getting paid. "[DCP] takes the sting out of critics by making light of the vast amount of wealth..." he says. DCP says he is "laughing all the way to the bank," though I don't know that he was laughing much when he threatened Dean Robbers with a lawsuit. In fact, the apologists have been trying to joke about this topic for so long that the joke itself has achieved a level of meta-complexity that one seldom encounters outside of a William Gaddis novel. One has to admire Shirts's ability to quickly alter the mood of a scene, though.

In the next scene, we catch a glimpse of what looks like John Gee, and we're reminded of Burgess Meredith's masterful portrayal of The Penguin in the old Batman TV series. Does Gee own a top hat and monocle? On the table are what appear to be bootlegged copies of academic articles, which FAIR is selling at bargain-basement prices. Is this practice legal, I wonder? Shirts goes over each of the articles with Gee, who looks constipated and uncomfortable, and who quickly shuffles off after Shirts finishes with him.

Later, as he gazes at the two screens flickering at the front of an auditorium, Kerry observes that they are "cookin' with gas," and we can only wonder in bafflement at what he means. After this, Kerry sets his camera up at a low angle as he films a photo shoot involving Livingston, Peterson, and two other individuals. Again: Shirts's appears to be engaging in subtle homage---this time to Fritz Lang's classic, M. At approximately 7:26, Tyler Livingston sticks out his reddened tongue and wriggles it back and forth in front of the camera. Actually, his face looks just like the melting heads of the Nazis as they gaze into the holy sands of the Arc of the Covenant at the end of Raiders of the Lost Arc. It is at this point that we realize that Shirts has relinquished the camera to appear in his own documentary. He has joined the circle of conversation, and in fact, it is Livingston who is wielding the camera. This is unfortunate, because Livingston is nowhere near as skilled as Shirts, and this portion of the film seems deliberately amateurish. I believe that Shirts has done this in order to show us what we'd be missing were he to permanently abandon his role as auteur.

This episode concludes with a conference presentation, which is an odd choice, rather like Hitchcock's decision to end Psycho with a long and boring discourse on the psychology of Norman Bates.

Ultimately, what we've witnessed here is the full maturation of a very important Mormon filmmaker. I applaud the increasing sophistication and richness of Shirts's work.

More to come....