Earlier, I linked to an article describing Peter Jackson’s efforts to film the upcoming Hobbit movies at 48 frames-per-second, which supposedly allows for smoother, crisper motion and a more immersive viewing experience. Jackson showed ten minutes of footage from the film at this year’s CinemaCon — a convention for movie theatre owners — earlier this week, and reaction was mixed.

In a filmed video message from New Zealand shown to exhibitors Tuesday, Jackson implored theater owners to project his new film at 48 frames per second. The new speed, he said, gives the “illusion of real life, where movement feels smoother, and you're not dealing with strobing.”

Indeed, the footage shown did seem hyper-realistic. An opening aerial shot of dramatic rocky mountains appeared clearer than the images in most nature documentaries. But the effect was different when applied to scenes with actors dressed in period costume, whose every move — and pore — was crystal clear. Such realism put off some trade show attendees, who complained the footage didn't feel enough like a traditional film.

“It looked like a made-for-TV movie,” said one projectionist, who requested anonymity because of his affiliation with a competing studio. “It was too accurate — too clear. The contrast ratio isn’t there yet — everything looked either too bright or black.”

I’ve read some compare it to the “motion-smoothing” feature that many HDTVs have, which I find troubling because I hate “motion-smoothing”. It makes the footage so crisp that it looks less cinematic and more fake and shallow. Hopefully, Jackson and Co. get that sorted out before the first Hobbit movie arrives in theatres on December 14.

ByFaith Magazine interviews Covenant Theological Seminary professor C. John Collins regarding the necessity of a historical Adam and Eve:

To make the case for a literal Adam and Eve you take an entire chapter to explain how the whole of the Bible — Old Testament writers, New Testament writers, and even Jesus Himself — assumes their existence. Skeptics, I imagine, would point to a dearth of scientific knowledge and to a general lack of sophistication in an earlier era.

Yes, indeed they would, and do. Of course for Christians, our confidence that God “breathed out” his Word in “all Scripture” gives us the confidence as well that He would not allow his Word to mislead us, especially on something as important as the beginning of our story.

Nevertheless, someone might argue that God accommodated his communication to the understanding of the biblical writers, since teaching them science or world history wasn’t really His goal. I am sympathetic with the second part of that argument (see Shorter Catechism 3) but do not always know what people mean by the first part. In any case we have to ask, how does this particular passage fit in with the whole story of the Bible? I devoted a chapter to showing why the events of Adam and Eve underlie the whole sweep of the Bible in such a way that nothing makes sense without these events.

Now, the skeptic who is not yet a committed Christian believer needs more than that. That is why I spent another chapter on what is really an apologetic, showing that the things we can see in humans all over the world surely require a story that is along the lines of the Adam and Eve narrative. And I spent another chapter on how we might relate the biblical story to science and history.

I saw Collins speak a couple of times at the L’Abri conference earlier this year, and really enjoyed his presentations.

David Kuo relates a depressing parenting failure:

Moments later, he runs over and asks if he did great. Kim says yes. The coach says yes. Me? I’m half way between, “Awesome!” and “You suck!” I want to go for the former, I cannot say the latter. After the tiniest of pauses, I say no.

Nanoseconds feel like hours. He looks blankly at me.

I suddenly feel bile in the back of my throat. What did I just do?

“I”m joking, buddy! I’m joking! You did great.”

“Bad joke Daddy.” He walks away. Kim walks away. An assistant coach looks at me with sad incredulity. I AM now one of those dads.  I want to vomit. But I’m too consumed with my snowballing rage – a rage now firmly directed at me too.

I HATE the coddling of America’s youth. I HATE everyone always been told that everything is terrific no matter how much it sucks. I HATE that we lead the world in self esteem and suck at math and reading. I HATE soccer games that don’t keep score. I HATE participation ribbons. Now I’m mad at our culture too.

I REALLY want to say,  ”Well buddy, you’re trying and that’s AWESOME. But part of trying is listening to the coach. Why don’t you try that too?” I want to give him a hug and tell him how much I love him and how great he is actually doing at this, his first game of any sort.  I really do want to say those things. But I don’t. I just sit there with the staggering knowledge I just told him he did badly.

Kim comes back a few moments later, barely composed. “You are being an ASSHOLE!” she says through tears.

I stomp off. But I look back and there on the sidelines is my little son watching the game. I look to him and hold my thumbs up and smile. I know he’ll look back.

He does and I point to him with big thumbs up and I smile.

He looks away.

I’ve had similar experiences, experiences where I get so angry with my children and invariably do or say something that I regret (e.g., yell at them, walk away in a huff, slam a door or two). When tempers calm down, I can’t help but wonder about the damage that I may have done, and how it will affect them later in life.

Twitch’s Niels Matthijs:

There is no doubt that Versus was Ryuhei Kitamura’s (LoveDeath) break-through film. His two earlier efforts made little or no splash in the film world, but once Kitamura released Versus doors started to open. As often the case, Kitamura never managed to match the genius of his break-through film, then again it makes the original all the more special. Even though this low-budget vehicle is already more than 10 years old, there's still plenty of life left in it.

I watched some random Versus clips on YouTube last week, and it still looked as fun and stylish as ever. Here’s what I wrote in the Opus review of Versus back in 2002:

…where else are you going to find a movie that spends 5 minutes filming a group of gangsters as they exit their car, capturing every single angle and pose, often in slow-motion for the added “coolness” factor? The movie heaps on so much style that it’s just cartoonish. There’s the fact that KSC2-303 can’t move without his trenchcoat flapping dramatically the wind, and everyone always seems to strike the perfect “don’t screw with me pose” everytime the camera hits them. And for good measure, it throws in plenty of overacting (the knife-loving gangleader is a collective fave) and a sly wink or two (the fact that everyone keeps pulling bigger and bigger guns out of their pants), as if to constantly remind the audience that they should just sit back and enjoy the film.

After all, it’s obvious that everyone who made this film enjoyed themselves. There’s something incredibly carefree, and very ambitious about Versus. It’s like every single anime, manga, Hong Kong, and kung fu cliche boiled down to their bare essence, mixed with a gallon of pure adrenaline, and injected straight into the heart. What else could explain the fact that KSC2-303 goes traipsing about the forest with a big .50 calibre sniper rifle in one hand and an even bigger katana in the other?

More good stuff from Jake Meador’s class on the Christian imagination. First, regarding the pre-conversion C.S. Lewis:

For the pre-conversion Lewis, the entire cosmos was empty, devoid of intent and hostile to life. Humanity was the most civilized product of that aimlessness and so humanity ought to preserve itself. But the universe is a hostile place, so there’s always going to be a defensive, us-against them, zero sum basis for Lewis’ attitude toward the world, pre conversion. In some ways, his view of the world takes us back to Homer: The world is essentially chaotic, there is no right or wrong, no fixed trajectory, no narrative.

Lewis was also a firm believer in the ability of humanity to continue improving itself by extending its rule over nature through the use of technology, science and reason. Essentially, man exists in a state of perpetual war against the chaotic nature of the cosmos. This materialistic pessimism was not uncommon during Lewis’ day. It was a popular line of thought in the late 19th and early 20th century: You’ll find echoes of it in Nietzsche, George Bernard Shaw, and H.G. Wells (all men that Chesterton debated quite vigorously in print, in live debates, or both). Not only was this line of thought common enough, but Lewis’ personal life made it almost inevitable that he would at least be attracted to it.

He then goes on to discuss Chesterton and his prose, which was instrumental in C.S. Lewis turning to the Christian faith. He quotes from Philip Yancey’s excellent Chesterton intro in Soul Survivor:

Chesterton viewed this world as a sort of cosmic shipwreck. A person in search of meaning resembles a sailor who awakens from a deep sleep and discovers treasure strewn about, relics from a civilization he can barely remember. One by one he picks up the relics—gold coins, a compass, fine clothing—and tries to discern their meaning. Fallen humanity is in such a state. Good things on earth—the natural world, beauty, love, joy—still bear traces of their original purpose, but amnesia mars the image of God in us.

For Chesterton, and also for me, the riddles of God proved more satisfying than the answers proposed without God. I too came to believe in the good things of this world—first revealed to me in music, romantic love, and nature—as relics of a wreck, and as bright clues into the nature of a reality shrouded in darkness. God had answered Job’s questions with more questions, as if to say the truths of existence lie far beyond the range of our comprehension. We are left with remnants of God’s original design and the freedom, always the freedom, to cast our lots with such a God, or against him.

In addition to the problem of pain, G.K. Chesterton seemed equally fascinated by its opposite, the problem of pleasure. He found materialism too thin to account for the sense of wonder and delight that gives an almost magical dimension to such basic human acts as sex, childbirth, play, and artistic creation.

Christ and Pop Culture’s Erin Newcomb:

…the court ruling raises a number of interesting philosophical questions that respond to the paradox of breastfeeding in our culture. Lactation is not a disability; it’s a choice, yet it points to larger social discomforts about women generally and mothers specifically. Breastfeeding is countercultural because it shows a biological, nurturing use of the breast in a climate that fetishizes the breast; nursing reminds us that, deep down, we’re still mammals, and we’re dependent on our bodies. Breastfeeding positions able-bodied women as affected and influenced by bodily functions in a climate that elevates the mind, trivializes the body, and continually asserts the separation of the two—a dualism that marks the independent, autonomous citizen (i.e., not a lactating mother).