American Hustle (David O. Russell, 2013), scrutinizes the life of a crumbling conman trying to “survive”, and epitomizes the perfection of storytelling within film by focusing specifically on the character’s strife
and brilliantly stylizing the world in which the character exists. American Hustle is also stacked with stout actors, handling characters that require such actors to do them justice. While some people will compliment Amy Adam’s
convincing transformation from a strong conwoman to a seductive English business woman or will commend Jennifer Lawrence’s ability to tickle the nerves of her audience and convey an unpredictable bundle of fun, the true master of character in this intense drama lies in Christian Bale’s deteriorating and brilliant conman named Irving Rosenfeld, who is continuously and unfairly attacked by those he loves. Rosenfeld's own emotional pain causes him to wrestle with his deceitful occupation, producing a crumbling character bombarded with internal stress. 
 
There were many particulars that are admirable about Christian Bale’s performance, but the single characteristic that has been recurring in most of his past films, and is existent in American Hustle as well, is Bale’s constant weight gains and losses between his character portrayals. Famously, Bale lost 63 pounds in the film The Mechanist (Brad Anderson, 2004), and then gained back the weight, plus more, to become the iconic and powerful Bruce Wayne in Batman Begins (Christopher Nolan, 2005). What was interesting about the character of Irving Rosenfeld that differed from Bale’s usual weight changes, was his lack of the typical muscle gain, and instead, gain of fat. Bale shows us in American Hustle that he is willing to literally become the character that a screenwriter wrote, even if that character is an overweight and unattractive slob. Christian Bale takes method acting to the full extreme, and that is what makes him one of the most versatile, intelligent and unique actors on the market.

While Bale's character produces a strong subject to maintain the audience's interest, the quality of the actual story creation provides a separate platform to push the Irving's journey. As filmmaking has progressed, screenwriters have felt the need to complicate their stories, drawing the audience’s attention to their characters using flashbacks, narrations, montages, etc. These tactics can be seen in many of Christopher Nolan's films such as Memento (Christopher Nolan, 2000), and Inception (Christopher Nolan, 2010), taking layers of style and story and overlapping them to create a functioning and completed plot. American Hustle replicates this style. Eric Warren Singer, screenwriter, begins the story with a pivotal scene in Irving Rosenfeld’s internal deterioration, capturing our curiosities, forcing us to ponder the full story of why Christian Bale’s character is so dedicated to persuading a politician to accept a bribe. We are then launched into a flashback of a party where Irving first met Amy Adams’ character Sydney Prosser, allowing us to follow Rosenfeld's journey to the bribe we previously saw. This style of storytelling within a film is consistently successful as it sparks the audiences’ interests and provides a beginning look at the characters we will be viewing.

The brilliancy of the screenwriting and the powerful performances by esteemed actors brought the story to life, but David O. Russell used his mastery as the director to add depth and relevance to the film and its presence in the current context. Opening with the traditional titles from the seventies of both Columbia Pictures and Annapurna Pictures, the director immediately establishes a popular style of contemporary films, highlighted by the burgundy undertones and 1970's rock'n'roll. This style was seen particularly in last year's Oscar Best Picture winner Argo (Ben Affleck, 2012), where the time period was heavily developed in the setting to create Affleck's mise en scene. David O. Russell, understanding the success of Affleck's style in Argo, found another great story during a similar historical time, and focused on the same design.

Recent filmmaking was not the only influence that was evident in American Hustle; it was easy to see that David O. Russell did his homework. The most obvious influence that can be seen throughout the entire story, was Martin Scorsese's renowned classic Goodfellas (Martin Scorsese, 1990) which used various character's points of view and stories through narration to create a completed, and deeply developed plot. Russell mimicked this in American Hustle and was able to successfully use this storytelling technique to his advantage. Another classic film, The Sting (George Roy Hill, 1973), one that surprised audiences for it's unexpected ending, set the stage for modern and contemporary twist ending plots. David Russell finished his film in a similar fashion. Although, looking back, I guess I should have expected the unexpected when viewing a film entitled American Hustle, who's main characters specialize in trickery.

David O. Russell should be commended for executing a film that utilizes the medium of filmmaking to its full potential and draws upon current cinematic trends and past classic styles. American Hustle is overall a complete film with depth, requiring a great deal of thought and analysis. This is one that I will be seeing multiple times, and I advise you to do the same.

"There's the television. It's all right there - all right there. Look, listen, kneel, pray. Commercials! We're not productive anymore. We don't make things anymore. It's all automated. What are we for then? We're consumers, Jim."  (Jeffrey Goines, 12 Monkeys)

- - - 

During a screening of The Hunger Games two weekends ago, a clearly agitated guest walked out of Parmer Cinema. I could hear from the hallway that the film was at the point where the bloodbath at the cornucopia reached its frenzied climax and the Games began in earnest. "That's not my idea of entertainment," she said. "It's terrible."

I was caught off guard because the film had been out long enough that I didn't think the content would be a surprise to anyone. I also have to admit I took it somewhat personally, being the person who chooses the films and hopes that they'll be generally accepted and well attended. I never want anyone to hate a film I spend a great deal of time (sometimes months) wondering over. On the other hand, I was glad; once I un-bristled, the response that came to mind was, "Well, good, because I never want these films to be just entertainment."

And that is the mission of Lost Films.

A lot of thought goes into what ends up printed on a schedule or announced on Facebook each semester. Research, deliberation, weighing, adding, removing, adding again. The final product is a labor of love specifically designed to offer an experience of which the film is just a small part. SAB's mission statement contains four criteria that are applied while deciding who or what to introduce to Messiah College’s campus: artistic merit, cultural relevance, truth communicated, and appropriateness. Obviously, each component cannot be contained equally within every film, band, or artist we bring, but we do strive for balance. Sometimes one area weighs heavily enough that it balances out the lack of another.

With The Hunger Games, for example, the truth communicated and cultural relevance within the film (as well as the books) caused me to include it in our lineup despite potentially offensive content. I was willing to risk offense for the hope that people would not merely be entertained by the film but also engage with it. It was incredibly appropriate that the woman's response was revulsion at teenagers killing one another for "sport" since the film itself is a commentary on society's tendency to celebrate the profane. Author Suzanne Collins constructed a world where it is not inconceivable that adults should become immune to such horrors. If we watched The Hunger Games and were not appalled by it on some level, wouldn’t we be just as guilty as citizens of the Capitol in all their excess and finery? Isn't this happening on some level today while entire nations ignore atrocities like human trafficking (the end product being pleasure) or child labor (the end product being cheap clothing for the rest of us)? Though the Colosseum is a ruin and gladiators historical footnotes, humanity is not far removed from that particular brand of brutality.

Whether or not you are a fan of The Hunger Games, the truth it communicates about human nature is more relevant than ever. It is intentionally provocative for purposes of reflection. It is possible, however, to react to the wrong things or focus too much on singular elements out of context, missing the point entirely. The challenge, then, is to not merely be entertained; in fact, I wish that everyone would refuse passive entertainment absolutely. I implore you instead to be moved, to think, to ask what the director/writer/singer/actor meant when they placed their product in front of you and said, "Consume this." Do not trust blindly; do not reject on principle.

Why is it important to avoid these pitfalls? Because people are fatally flawed. We are often panicky, selfish, pleasure seeking, and proud. We abuse one another to ensure our own comfort; those in power get carried away; we naturally take the path of least resistance. History has shown that left to our own devices people will make poor judgments. When we're deliberately cruel, we often redefine the word; when we're well meaning, wrongdoing still is perpetrated. "Those who fail to learn from history are condemned to repeat it." This is not a threat as much as it is fact – one from which every generation is confident they are immune but prove ultimately to be scarcely different from the rest.

The cure for this insanity is neither willful ignorance nor careful apathy but intentional, measured participation by people who refuse to be passively entertained. By watching or reading something like The Hunger Games (or Harry Potter, Fringe, Looper, Blade Runner, To Kill a Mockingbird, etc.) and allowing yourself to be moved by it, you open yourself up to growth. There is no stronger catalyst for change than an uncomfortable idea that forces you to justify its existence. Only then can a person expect to relate to anyone different from himself or herself.

I later learned that the woman who walked out has a teenage son. He stayed in the theater with his dad for the remainder of the film and the three of them spoke animatedly afterwards about what I imagine to be a difference of opinion regarding appropriate family time. I was struck with the thought that she probably imagined her son in such a harrowing scenario – him having to kill peers in a do-or-die situation. Admittedly, not a pleasant thought for any parent. It added another dimension to her dismissal of the film: that even poignant cultural commentary couldn't override raw emotion. Experience can be a powerful simplifier. Her judgment of the film might have been an extreme one, but it was based in personal experience that, despite any number of valuable or “correct” messages, caused it not to be worth her time; and caused me to reevaluate an aspect of culture I hadn’t considered.

Be a thinker rather than a consumer. Do not settle for mere entertainment.