Fear the Walking Dead brings the horror

Fear the Walking Dead delivers some real horror this time around. I'm was impressed by this episode.

The scariest parts of TWD are always the ones dealing with real people, not zombies. the fear, the distrust of strangers is a powerful motivator for Rick and his crew. You simply can't be too careful. Hence, the famous three questions everyone gets asked.

FTWD did a great job tonight of creating some interesting, disturbing characters who could certainly become a problem for our protagonists. First up, what's up with our man Daniel? we learn a lot more about him in this episode, and very little of it is good. Turns out, back in El Salvador, he wasn't only on the receiving end of the torture he had alluded to before. Apparently, he's kind of an expert at causing suffering, and seems very anxious to practice his skills on his daughter's soldier boyfriend.

Then there is the mysterious man in the holding cell, the one that "saves" Nick, the one that reduces another man to an hysterical, blubbering mass using only his words. This strange fellow is tall and well-spoken, and something about the way he dresses and uses his hands suggests he's a magician or a con artist. When Nick thanks him for bribing a guard who was going to remove him from the holding cell, he says, "I didn't save you, I obligated you. There's a difference." then he goes on to give a brilliantly succinct explanation of how the rules of the game have changed. The "frequent fliers" have lost, and will now by a "buffet" for men like himself. He's obviously a bad dude, but at the same time, he seems like someone you want to have on your side during a zombie apocalypse.

Travis has his own run in with a potentially evil character. The Army Sergeant, who up till now has seemed cold and uncaring, but relatively reasonable, starts to get aggressive when Travis demands to know where his friends have been taken. the Sergeant Dickhead's form of torture (sensing Travis's pacifism, no doubt) is to try to force him to shoot a walker. The other soldier's are creeped out, clearing sensing that this man is going off the rails. As it happens, after fending off a zombie attack, Sergeant Dickhead doesn't make it back to the humvee. Funny thing, huh?

what's happening is that things are falling apart. It's the part of the apocalypse where people still think they can be saved, but it's transitioning to the part where only those who realize they are on their own, and are repsonsible for their own survival, have a chance to make it. They are the strong, the one's not afraid to get their hands dirty. As cruel as Daniel is, as sick as his actions are, we find out at the end that he was right. The soldiers have been holding a terrible secret from the civilians they were supposed to protect. It's every man and woman for themselves. Things are about to get ugly.

American Sniper: Myth and Movie

The Chris Kyle portrayed in the movie American Sniper is a patriot and man of great loyalty. He is also a man who lacks imagination and empathy. Sure, he cares for his fellow soldiers. He genuinely loves "God, country, and family" above all else, but he never seems to be able to reconcile all these good qualities with his own nature. He seems unaware of his own darkness.

It's not easy to reconcile the light and dark sometimes. There's the Navy Seal with more confirmed kills than any other sniper in American history. There's the Chris Kyle who spent a lot of time after the war away from his family, drinking and brawling in bars. The guy who wrote in his memoir of the war that he was ready to "answer to God for every shot I ever took." The guy who admitted shooting a woman and more than one boy during the invasion of Iraq but whose only regret was that he couldn't save more of the "good guys," by which he means Americans. The guy who wrote in his book that all Iraqis were "savages" and that he "couldn't give a flying fuck about the Iraqis.”

Having read the first couple of chapters of Kyle's book, I can tell you that Clint Eastwood and his screen writer have taken a story told in a pretty basic, uncritical way, where every event is cast in black or white, and made out of that a pretty nuanced movie. Sure, it might seem like propaganda at first. The old-school "God and country" philosophy is laid on pretty thick, and Kyle seems to believe his own bullshit when he tells his new wife that nothing bad will happen to him in the war. He truly seems to believe that he cannot be killed. I sort of envy the guy.

But what I can't reconcile is how he says his time fighting in Iraq was "fun" and how he'd do it all over again if his family didn't need him. Fun? War is fun? I can only assume he is masking his true feelings here. I've never heard a sane person describe war as fun. Hell on earth, sure. Awful. Terrible. Soul-rending, but never fun. kinda makes you wonder.

But maybe it's more of the braggadocio he talks in the book. The kind the  character displays in the movie, when one of his comrades is shot through the eye. The gist of it is, You're gonna be alright, buddy! You have nothing to worry about! Never admitting the possibility that his friend might be dying. Maybe this was his magic thinking. His talisman. Never admit defeat, never even consider it. And never, ever admit to your own mortality.

When another friend is killed in an ambush, one of his last letters is read at the funeral. The movie's version of Chris Kyle says to his wife that it wasn't the ambush that killed him but the letter; the letter because it admitted doubt and fear, and a feeling of horror at all that is happening in Iraq, to the American soldiers, to the country, to the writer's own soul.

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Recently, Seth Rogen created a stir when he tweeted that the third act of American Sniper reminded him of the fictional pro-Nazi movie from Inglorious Basterds's third act. I admit the same thought crossed my mind, as I watched Kyle take on seemingly endless waves of Iraqi insurgents. However, the huge difference, and what makes Eastwood's movie a work of art and not merely a piece of propaganda (could it be a little of both?), is that following that scene, we find Kyle breaking down, crying, calling his wife and saying that he's "ready to go home." He has finally reached the end of himself, his invisible armor has been penetrated, and he can finally admit he needs help, that he is, in a word, human.

This moment, and several other nuanced ones throughout the film, elevate it from its source material.