Volume 109: The Mission / Waking Karma
THE VOICE OF ENERGY VOL. 109
I hope you all have been enjoying these newsletters and its shift to coverage new film releases. As I said a bit ago, my plan is to do other film pieces and longer essays, but that will be a little later down the line. Need to get some work in the rearview mirror first. That said, if you have suggestions of things you'd like me to cover or have questions, etc., reply to this email and let me know.
The Mission (dir. Tania Anderson)
When young people in the Mormon faith reach the age of 18, they are encouraged by their temple leaders to become missionaries, spreading the gospel of Joseph Smith to various spots on the globe from 18 months to two years.
The practice is a restrictive one for the folks who choose to sign up. Contact with their families is confined to two days (Mother's Day and Christmas). Engaging with any secular pop culture is forbidden, as is any contact with the opposite sex… and swimming.
The idea, at least according to Elder Pauole, one of the young people from Utah whose mission to Finland is tracked in the fascinating new documentary The Mission, is to test the strength of their faith and, through their association with various companions that they are conscripted to remain with 24/7, prepare themselves down their next great calling: marriage.
First-time filmmaker Tania Anderson takes the lead of fellow documentarians Frederick Wiseman and the Maysles with her chosen subject matter. The Mission features no voiceover nor talking head interviews with experts or former missionaries. Nor is there any conversation about the ills that the Mormon Church has inflicted upon the world. Viewers are left to make their own judgements and, in turn, question their own biases about the denomination.
That may feel like a feint for some criticism on the Mormon faith. But the pictures tell the deeper story without any additional commentary. The congregation that many of these young people belong to is, so far as we see, completely white. In a scene where a proctor of the church in Finland welcomes the missionaries, he offers hugs to the men and stiff handshakes to the women. Too, there's Sister Field's family that seems to remain close and supportive even though one of her siblings came out of the closet and another has rejected the church entirely. Sister Field's brief interactions with them are tinted with sadness and tension even during their family meals of cheese pizza from Costco and Kool-aid.
Those scenes with the missionaries' families and friends are brief, though, as the bulk of the film follows them through the machinations of their everyday lives far from home. Their chosen port of proselytizing proves to be a challenging one. A decidedly secular country (Elder Pauole mentions there are more Mormons in their small town than the entirety of Finland), they are generally ignored unless they're handing out ice cream or a free Book of Mormon that one passerby accepts because he was going to the library anyway. The only family that we see invite some of the missionaries inside are only interested in a debate rather than hearing the testimony of these young Americans. Otherwise, Finns walk past, with some firing off a middle finger or a comment like, "I believe in evolution."
Even with Anderson's verité approach to this story, it's impossible to not feel for these young, often emotionally immature kids as they venture out to experience the wider world for the first time. Sister Field still retains a childlike spirit, which confuses at least one of her companions. And, in the case of Elder Davis, his mental health becomes a concern as he tries to put on a brave face even as talks about the anxiety attacks he has been suffering.
The faith of these four young people never wavers, even as Elder Davis admits that he gets mad at God. For him that’s part of being a Mormon. You question and you kvell about your circumstances but, at the end of the day, you trust that God is there waiting. That could be years of indoctrination by family and temple talking, but there’s an earnestness to his comments that is endearing. The same goes for a moment towards the end of the film when Sister Field is brought before her church leader to officially bring her mission to a close. The simple act of removing the name tag that proclaims her to be a missionary brings her to tears.
As Anderson likely intended, how you react to The Mission largely depends on what you bring to it. You may see some kids doing their best as they fulfill what they see as their life’s calling. Or you may see a bunch of brainwashed automatons spreading a problematic gospel and ignoring everything else going on in the world. The coronavirus pandemic, for example, creeps into the end of the film as the missionaries mask up and take over filming, but it’s never spoken about out loud. No matter what your reaction to what plays out on screen, there’s no denying the quiet power and understated grace of Anderson’s work throughout. Her eye for detail and finding those little moments that speak volumes about a person will serve her well in what is hopefully a long career as a filmmaker. (available on VOD services)
Waking Karma (dir. Carlos Montaner & Liz Fania Werner)
Michael Madsen is part of a generation of character actors that, in the ’90s, evinced the makings of a long, legendary career in front of the camera, but circumstances, both personal and societal, kept them at the bottom of the ladder. He and folks like Peter Greene and Joey Slotnick have kept working but generally in projects that slip into the VOD stream and January studio dump.
No matter what, these working actors always seem like they are one choice part away from righting the ship. Waking Karma could have been that film for Michael Madsen. He handles the oily charisma and hair-trigger bursts of anger of Paul, a dangerous cult leader out to fulfill a prophecy of his resurrection, with ease, using his now gravelly voice to memorable and sometimes devastating effect.
The film simply doesn’t seem worthy of what Madsen brings to it. The same applies to Hannah Christine Shetler, the young actor who plays Karma, Paul’s daughter who escaped the cult with her mom (Kimberly Alexander) and has been in hiding for the better part of her life. But on her 17th birthday, Paul drops a note on their doorstep, revealing that he’s been watching and that it’s time for his kid to do her duty for his cause. Shetler, with wide eyes and close-cropped hair, shifts emotional gears with ease as Karma and her mom escape to a remote compound owned by another former cult member (Bradley Fisher). She’s a live wire throughout, shuddering and seizing up as her character goes through multiple stages of anxiety and terror once Paul reveals himself and begins breaking down her spirit through psychological abuse.
Yet co-directors Carlos Montaner and Liz Fania Werner (the latter also wrote the script) only raise the stakes so high. Outside of a montage of strange rituals involving murder, there’s no discussion of exactly what Paul believes nor what he has fed to his followers apart from some Being John Malkovich-style transference of his soul into the body of his progeny. Paul’s charisma isn’t in doubt, but what is driving his snaky presence certainly is.
And for all the discomfort and twists that Werner brings to the script, the film doesn’t stick the landing. It fizzles to a close even as Stetler and Alexander try to breathe fresh life into it with their deeply committed performances. Madsen, too, is left dangling by the end, all of his good works seeming for naught as Waking Karma grinds to an ignominious halt. (available on VOD services)
Thanks for reading this edition of the newsletter. If you'd like to see more of me, check out my livestreams on Twitch, where I usually DJ three to four times each week. Or follow my personal or record resale Instagram accounts to keep track of me. Or watch my silly videos on YouTube. Until next time.
Artwork for this edition is from Anne Siems' new exhibit Sons and Daughters, on display at the David Lusk Gallery in Memphis through Feb 11.
This newsletter was written on the unceded land where once stood the traditional village sites of the Multnomah, Wasco, Cowlitz, Kathlamet, Clackamas, Bands of Chinook, Tualatin, Kalapuya, Molalla, and many other tribes who made their homes along the Columbia River creating communities and summer encampments to harvest and use the plentiful natural resources of the area.