Happy-Go-Lucky

"The End of Men," proclaims the July cover story of The Atlantic. The headline may be a bit hyperbolic, but it does appear that men are increasingly irrelevant in the Western world. Their primary advantage, physical strength, just isn't necessary for most tasks in a white-collar lifestyle. Men are generally less well-suited to office work, inflexible in adapting to the changing economy and less adept at child care. Which raises an interesting question: How does the previously dominant sex adapt to sudden marginalization?

"Happy-Go-Lucky" is a character study of a woman, but its greatest insights may be regarding men. "Lucky" stars Sallie Hawkins as Poppy, an English primary school teacher with an eternally optimistic outlook on life. She tries to turn everything into a joke or a smile, even laughing in the face of a sudden pain that shoots up her back.

Hawkins is terrific, and Poppy's persona is well worth exploring. But the character is most interesting when confronted with things that aren't so easy to smile about. When Poppy's bike is stolen (her reaction: "I didn't even get to say goodbye!"), she decides to finally take driving lessons. Her gruff instructor, Scott, at first appears to merely be a hard-ass, insisting on following the rules of the road to a fault. But it becomes increasingly clear that Scott is actually unhinged. He makes racist remarks, spouts off conspiracy theory hokum and develops a creepy attraction to Poppy. He becomes prone to flying off into a rage at his pupil.

Scott's childish, petulant anger is frightening on one level, but sad on another. Ultimately, there's nothing he can do about the changes that light his fuse: women's liberation, which gives them the freedom to wear provocative outfits while declining his pathetic advances, and immigration, which brings about the multicultural society that enrages a bigot like him.

A boy in Poppy's class presents another aspect of male stubbornness. The boy begins beating up his fellow students with rather disturbing gusto. We later learn that the child is being abused at home by his mother's boyfriend, which brings on the intervention of a social worker. One can only hope that such methods bring an end to the age-old passing-down of violent tendencies in men.

"Lucky" does offer us two women in distress, but their reactions to their struggles are instructive. Poppy's flamenco teacher has an angry meltdown in class over her cheating husband. Yet she composes herself and continues her instruction, showing much more emotional agility than that of which Scott is capable. In another scene, Poppy's sister Suzy is quite judgmental of her sister's carefree mentality. Suzy is clearly dissatisfied with her life, but unlike Scott, she still has someone on which to take out her frustrations: her hen-pecked husband.

The film does offer a couple of more benign models of male behavior. Poppy's chiropractor, a fairly gentle giant, and Tim, the social worker who assists the wayward boy, both show none of the violent tendencies of Scott or the student. Free of the anger which many men carry just beneath the surface, they are well-adjusted to suburban life.

But many men are simply incapable of this calmer outlook. In the middle of the film, Poppy encounters a homeless man. Clearly insane, the hobo spouts off meaningless noises and phrases. He attempts to caress Poppy's face, then abandons the effort and wanders off into a misty field. One hopes this is not a metaphor for the many Western men who can no longer find a purpose for themselves in the world.

Man Push Cart

In recent years, a new group of American realist films have cropped up, many of which depict the continual struggle of poverty. One might question the need for more films on the indigent. Plenty have been made already; the best, "The Bicycle Thief," was released 52 years ago.

But there is still an important place for poverty in cinema--and not just because the recent Great Recession. We must continually be reminded of the plight of the impoverished, as well as how fortunate those of us are who do not endure it.

"Man Push Cart" depicts the life of Ahmad, a Pakistani immigrant who runs a push cart stand in New York City. It's brutal work, in its way; Ahmad leaves home at 2 AM to pull his cart on busy streets.

Ahmad has a rather amazing background as well. He was a pop star in Pakistan before leaving for New York to be with his now-dead wife. These details emerge gradually, but without unnecessary hesitation or suspense. He also has a burgeoning romance with a woman running a newstand, for whom he must compete with a much richer rival.

First-time director Ramin Bahrani eschews fancy camerawork, instead relying on his keen observational eye to make his points. The camera holds on a Mercedes dealership Ahmad passes, or a partially spent cigarette he carefully saves while helping a customer. Bahrani reveals societal inequities without rubbing our noses in them. He weaves a rather depressing tale, but does it with a matter-of-fact air. Poverty in America need not be romanticized. Its plain reality should be enough to move us.

The Bridge on the River Kwai

We lionize the military for its fanatical devotion to order, honor and authority. Yet these traits can easily be twisted for misguided ends.

"The Bridge on the River Kwai" is the story of a World War II POW camp of British soldiers in Thailand. The camp is run by Japanese Colonel Saito, a ruthless taskmaster who will stop at nothing to complete the bridge of the film's title.

"Bridge" begins as a battle of wills between Saito and Colonel Nicholson (Alec Guiness). The two clash over whether the British officers will be forced to engage in manual labor, which is prohibited under the Geneva Convention. Nicholson's stubbornness lands him in solitary confinement until Saito relents, seeing the effect the punishment has on the Brits' morale. Nicholson's release is a stirring victory, a confirmation of his determination to abide by the law.

Once released, Nicholson works to improve the construction of the bridge. He views the bridge as an opportunity to restore discipline, which had grown quite lax as his troops slow-footed the construction. More worryingly, he begins to view it as his legacy, something tangible that will provide use long after he's gone.

This is a problem because, after all, building the bridge well helps the enemy. This fact is highlighted when an American soldier, played by William Holden, escapes the camp and is enlisted by the British on a mission to destroy the bridge. The inevitable conflict is given all the build-up and suspense it deserves.

What begins as a salute to the can-do spirit of a well-trained military becomes an almost subversive critique of authority and rule-making. Though released in 1957, the film almost feels like one of the classics of the 1970's, working on a commercial level, as an entertaining war film, and an artistic one.

It must be said that this is the type of film which is likely inferior to the novel on which it's based. The warping of Nicholson's mind could be portrayed with much more detail in a book. In addition, a couple of budding romances between the team assigned to destroy the bridge and their guides are given short shrift. However, to say that this story would be more effective on the page simply means that it is a thinking person's war movie, rather than one which mainly relies upon explosions and testosterone.

"Bridge" is directed by David Lean, which another way of saying it's an epic production with excellent cinematography. Holden is a bit irritating, but Guiness is excellent, as he must be. His final close-up is the perfect conclusion to this fine film.