SWEENEY TODD (1982), SIX

He’s bloodthirsty and ruthless, but his desire for vengeance dominates any other characteristic. Judge Turpin and The Beadle must pay for the scheme they perpetrated: stealing his wife and falsely sending him off to prison. All the other deaths are incidental, people who cross his path while he waits for his two foes to come for a shave. He’s singularly focused, to the point where he can take human life without blinking, but once his mission is complete, he’s done. He’s not a good man, but his need for justice helps us tolerate his story.

He’s an excellent barber, lol. Does that say anything about his Enneagram? We see his meticulous preparation, sharpening the razor and smoothing the lather, and then — whisk! — the close shave is done. It’s very similar to his killing spree. This is someone who likes order.

A Six? (He’s too morose to be a One.) I could consider him a Two. A gentle soul when mistreated so badly could turn to darkness. However, he takes no pleasure in his razors as objects. “At last, my arm is complete again.” They’re not a Two’s collection; the shaving tools are part of his body, part of his identity.

The ability to justify evil actions is Six-ish. Once black has been determined to be white by a Six, they can move forward with a clear conscience. When his enemies are dead, Sweeney could, in theory, revert to a normal life. The story, however, delivers its own justice. Sweeney’s moral decisions lead him to kill someone precious to him, and, after one last act of vengeance, he ends up broken by it. It falls outside of his black-and-white universe, and he can’t resolve what he’s done. When he’s killed at the end of the play, everybody’s code is satisfied, even Sweeney’s.

SEAN THORNTON, NINE

A professional boxer retired due to tragedy, Sean seeks retreat and peace. He’s an easy Nine.

The Quiet Man’s story is simple: Irish-American comes to the Old Country to settle and make a new life in his ancestral home. When he sees a lass tending sheep, he falls for her, makes “pattyfingers in the holy water” with her, and arranges to court her. Her belligerent brother keeps them apart over spite about the property, until he consents and later regrets it, holding his sister’s dowry after the marriage. Sean must eventually demand the money and make peace with his brother-in-law, which leads to a town-consuming brawl between the two of them. In the end they live happily ever after.

We hit a wall, though, when we get to the scene of him dragging his wife by the nape of her neck. Is something about this moment particularly Nine-ish? His avoidance of conflict — taking the brother’s verbal ridicule, watching his volatile wife demand her things about her — might lead to a man who’s had enough and overreacts as a result. If he’s driven to take action, though, just give him a different action to take. The key to this whole movie is the moment when Sean pursues his wife to the train station and returns with her to town.

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MARY KATE DANAHER, FOUR

The Quiet Man still has a lot to love. The couple riding in the matchmaker’s cart and escaping into the Irish countryside is charming. When she shelters against his wet, white shirt, it’s one of the more romantic moments ever put on film. The beautiful horse race on the beach, the Playfairs jovially riding their two-person bicycle through town, Father Lonergan battling with his fishing — all wonderful to watch. I can (and do) quote Michaleen Flynn all day.

However, Mary Kate dragged by her husband through the fields nullifies everything else. I can’t say how that scene played in 1952, but today it’s offensive. 

When we strip away the baggage, this love story is simple. She’s a Four and he’s a Nine, a classic combination. She’s passionate and quick-tempered, having all the feelings for the both of them. He’s laid back, able to disengage from much that riles her. Perhaps as a Four, an open book to all of the village, one more degrading moment doesn’t shame her? Perhaps his display of feelings, no matter how ugly, reassures her of his love?

Nope, it’s all the language of abuse. It’s an unnecessary scene — the intent is quite clear without pulling a woman through sheep dung — that could be reworked, making a movie that is watchable today. I hate to see classic filmmaking consigned to the dustbin. John Ford made his choices, though, and today’s audience will judge accordingly.

So This Is Christmas?

Well, rats. The Hawkeye finale is not up to the standards of the last few episodes. It’s fairly generic, with obligatory fight sequences and stilted humor. 

Ah, I just noticed. The episodes I liked were directed by Bert and Bertie. The ones I didn’t were directed by someone else. Fascinating. Let’s jump in.

ONE

Stepping into frame is a cane and a large body in a suit. It’s Kingpin. This is his meeting with Eleanor that was teased at the end of last episode. We get a little backstory: her husband owed a small fortune to Kingpin when he died. Eleanor, working with him all these years, has repaid the debt ten times over. Now that Kate is getting close to the secret, Eleanor wants out. Kingpin is not happy.

TWO

The video of this scene plays on Kate’s phone. We’re back with her and Clint at the kitchen table. Kate freaks — I need to talk to her — and Clint says, Your mom needs our help. When Kate tries to send him home, Clint declares that they’re partners. “Your mess is my mess.”

THREE

We’re back at Kingpin’s lair, or whatever. (It’s a small room surrounded by colored hanging beads. No idea why.) Maya arrives to apologize, declare her loyalty, and ask for time off. Kazi, who’s already there, translates for her. Slowly and deliberately, Kingpin signs to her, I love you. She signs it back. After she leaves, Kingpin says to Kazi, “Maya, my Maya, has turned on us.”

Continue reading “So This Is Christmas?”

DUDLEY (1947), FOUR

A real angel would have no Enneagram, I suppose. Dudley, however, has many human traits. He feels romantic love for Julia. He takes a perverse pleasure in wrapping Henry around the axle. Even with the Professor, whose alcohol bottle Dudley magically replenishes, he likes confounding him and playing with his expectations. Dudley is an imp as a character archetype and, possibly, as a religious one. Henry has doubts, calling him a demon. I have doubts, too! 

So, what Enneagram is the Mischief Maker? Dudley can ice skate beautifully, although I credit that with magic rather than a physical proclivity. Not a Body Type. He’s not particularly intellectual. His purpose on Earth, ultimately, is to save Henry’s soul. A different Enneagram, a Head Type, would argue with Henry and engage him in philosophy in order to guide him. Dudley, instead, goes right for the social levers.

In general, a Four is quite impish. It’s one of the things we love about them, that mischievous sense of finding buttons and pushing them, even their own. Dudley isn’t very self-reflective, though. It’s everybody else’s weaknesses he likes to manipulate.

I’m going to say that the writer purposely subverted the angel trope in order to create humor. It must’ve been funny in 1947, or it wouldn’t have become a beloved Christmas movie. In my lifetime, though, it’s gone from charming to drudgery. For me, The Bishop’s Wife is now unwatchable, and a lot of that centers around Dudley.

Ronin

Hawkeye is on a roll. This penultimate episode is delicious.

LEFTOVER NINE

A snowy, wooded landscape. Over, we hear Natasha’s voice from Black Widow tasking Yelena with curing the Widows of their mind control. 2018. Tucked in the woods, a small mansion. 

Sneaking on the roof and entering are Yelena and a sidekick. Inside, they surprise Anna, another Widow. Pause, and they battle like crazy until Yelena can hold her down and hit her with the antidote. Turns out Anna wasn’t brainwashed, and all this is a chance for some exposition. Yelena has helped many Widows. “It’s hard watching them wake.” Anna asks, How is your sister? (Emphasize Yelena’s relationship to Natasha, for those not up on the latest Marvel storylines.)

Yelena steps into Anna’s powder room and splashes her face. A pixelated disintegration, and the room changes color around her. Out she comes to a different decor. Confused, she’s ready to attack. A man and child play quietly, and from the corner comes Anna. “You’re back!” (Another representation of what it felt like to return from the Blip. Wandavision did this, which I enjoyed.)

So now it’s five years later. Anna catches Yelena up on life. “I was in for five seconds and I’ve lost five years,” Yelena says. “I need to find Natasha.” A long beat as we remember that, if there’s been a Blip, Natasha is dead. The screen goes black, and the Marvel logo runs.

Continue reading “Ronin”

Poinsettia over Poinsettia

Remember last year’s poinsettia piece? It was a redo of a previous, failed encaustic. Well, it’s been redone again. The original poinsettia faded to white and turned brittle. Remnants of the old plant can be seen underneath the new leaves here.

I liked that former piece, but I’m learning the behavior of organic material in wax. Moisture doesn’t age well.

I won’t list all the possible metaphors this piece suggests, lol.

Echoes/Partners, Am I Right?

I’ve combined Episode 3 with Episode 4.

Echoes

Finally, Hawkeye hits its stride. We’ve got a real show here! 

ONE

A child at school in 2007. It’s not Kate, it’s someone new. Her world is silent. As the teacher’s lips move, subtitles appear. Seeing the child writing in a workbook, the teacher comes over and taps it. We see her name on the teacher’s lips: Maya. She’s a good student.

Now we have sound. Shadow puppets. It’s little Maya signing with her dad. Their relationship is absolutely charming. (Kudos to both actors.) She asks about dragons, and why she isn’t in a school with kids like her. Dad is sorry, he can’t pay for deaf school. She must learn to jump between two worlds.

In judo class little Maya watches as a larger boy shifts his weight and scores a takedown. Her dad observes class, then says her uncle will take her home. We see a black suit coat and a hand that lovingly pinches her cheek. (Subtle Easter egg there, for anyone looking.) Maya steps onto the mat, and now we see she’s also a right leg amputee with a prosthetic. Watching for the shift, she takes down the bigger boy.

Time passage, and it’s the Woman In The Red Light from last episode. In case we had any doubts, we see her leg prosthetic as she spars in a boxing ring. (I already totally love Maya.) She’s fierce as she watches for the shift again.

On a motorcycle, she arrives at a warehouse. Sneaking, she can see Ronin through the window stabbing and attacking. She runs inside, but it’s too late. Among the people dying is her dad. They sign with each other, and she cries. “Fly away from here, little dragon,” he says to her.

Run title logo.

Continue reading “Echoes/Partners, Am I Right?”