mass media

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Attention all 'Rational Sheep' -- Hollywood is no longer the true church of the masses

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Attention all 'Rational Sheep' -- Hollywood is no longer the true church of the masses

As the creator of classics such as "It's a Wonderful Life" and "You Can't Take It with You," director Frank Capra knew how to touch the hearts and souls of moviegoers.

The self-described "Christmas Catholic" took that power seriously. "No saint, no pope, no general, no sultan, has ever had the power that a filmmaker has," he once said. This was the "power to talk to hundreds of millions of people for two hours in the dark."

The power of today's digital media is much more complex than that, said Barbara Nicolosi Harrington, a former Catholic nun turned screenwriter and Hollywood script doctor.

"Hollywood has been the church of the masses, but I don't think that's still true. At least, we cannot say that movie theaters are the sanctuaries they once were for most people, especially for the young," said Harrington, author of "Behind the Screen: Hollywood Insiders on Faith, Film, and Culture."

When she was young, she explained, mainstream entertainment "was everything. Hollywood created the images that told us what was cool and what it meant to be a success and to be loved."

Now, when she talks to young people, they have a completely different relationship with mass media. The voices and images of Hollywood are competing with legions of "influencers" who reach the masses through omnipresent smartphones.

"There are so many competing screens and so much of the content is truly asinine," she said. Young people accept that, but believe that, with their peers, they can decide what is true and what is false in that digital universe. When messages hit home, social-media mavens then connect users with creators, activists or networks linked to the content.

"Kids think they're in control," said Harrington, reached by telephone. "But how can you tell what is right and wrong if it's TikTok and its algorithms that decide what you see? ... You think that you get to decide what is right for you and what voices will guide you. But is that true these days?"

The big question is whether millions of parents, pastors, teachers and counselors realize how much the balance of power has shifted in mass-media and entertainment.

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The rise and fall of the AI 'Father Justin' is a technology parable for our time

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The rise and fall of the AI 'Father Justin' is a technology parable for our time

The penitent crafted the perfect sin to confess to a virtual priest: "Bless me father, for I have sinned. … I have had anger in my heart about the deployment of AI chatbots in inappropriate places."

"Father Justin," a 3D AI character created by the San Diego-based Catholic Answers network, offered biblical advice for wrestling with anger.

"God is merciful and loving, my child," the bot concluded. "For your penance, I ask you to pray the Our Father three times, reflecting on God's infinite mercy and love. And now, I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

Legions of cyberspace believers pounced. One tweeted this cry: "HAIEEEEEEE." Susannah Black Roberts of Plough Magazine noted: "Hey @catholiccom, your AI 'priest' is offering absolution. Might want to kill it with fire and never do anything like this again."

Online detectives found other flaws. The National Catholic Register noted the app struggled when turning voices into printed words, translating "Eucharist" as "caressed" or even "you, you, you," while "Communion" became "commute." The Pillar asked if it was possible to baptize "my baby with Gatorade in an emergency" and Father Justin affirmed that option.

"I say this with nothing but respect for you guys and your work, but ... this should've just been a plain search engine," tweeted Father Mike Palmer of the Congregation of Holy Cross. "Dressing it up as a soulless AI avatar of a priest does absolutely nothing except cause confusion and invite mockery of your otherwise excellent work."

Catholic Answers President Christopher Check quickly confessed that his team "received a good deal of helpful feedback." Thus, "Justin" lost his clerical collar.

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Tour bus Bible lesson: Oliver Anthony trying to make sense of his new life

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Tour bus Bible lesson: Oliver Anthony trying to make sense of his new life

At this stage of his country music career, Oliver Anthony is still reaching his fans by propping his smartphone in a tour-bus window and recording social-media videos.

Seven months ago, of course, he didn't have a career, didn't have a tour bus and didn't have fans. That was before a do-it-yourself solo recording of his populist anthem "Rich Men North of Richmond" hit YouTube and, with 128 million clicks at this point, changed his life.

In a recent video — " To all my Friends and Family" — Anthony apologized for his relative silence for a few months. He said he was swamped in music-business "craziness," finding professionals to handle concert merchandise and lawyers to protect his songs. In January, he retreated to an old church in Savannah, Georgia, to record his first album — using "microphones from the 1940s" and the natural echo in the sanctuary.

"You know, I didn't want to come out on tour to just sing a bunch of songs to people and then go home and make money. It's like, I wanted to touch people. I wanted to get into people's heads and just try to make an impact," said Anthony, a high-school dropout in rural Virginia who held late-shift jobs in several factories in the North Carolina mountains.

"It's such a crazy place that we're living in now. … It feels like the people that we elect to give a voice for us, they're the complete opposite. If anything, they silence us and manipulate us. … It feels like, in a way, maybe, that we've already went off the cliff as a nation."

For many critics, that sounds like red-state political talk, not the words of an everyman who spent years struggling with depression and alcohol.

While Anthony's impact in America has been massive, audiences at recent concerts in Ireland and Australia also belted out "Rich Men North of Richmond" lyrics line for line -- especially the chorus: "It’s a damn shame what the world's gotten to / For people like me and people like you / Wish I could just wake up and it not be true / But it is, oh, it is."

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Canterbury Cathedral throws a flashy disco rite for chic modern pilgrims

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Canterbury Cathedral throws a flashy disco rite for chic modern pilgrims

The Gothic Revival sanctuary of the former Episcopal Church of the Holy Communion was a strange edifice to house a dance club, but that's what happened in the early 1980s with the infamous Limelight club in New York City.

Rocker Steve Taylor penned a snarky tribute, including this pounding chorus: "This disco used to be a cute cathedral / Where we only play the stuff you're wanting to hear … / This disco used to be a cute cathedral / But we got no room if you ain't gonna be chic."

Four decades later, this song surfaced during online chatter about the February 8-9 dance nights inside Canterbury Cathedral, the Church of England's most hallowed sanctuary.

Dubbed the "rave in the nave" by critics, revelers gulped drinks from the bar and sang along to hits streamed by DJs into rented headphones. One participant described dancing to "Horny" by Mousse T. -- "I'm horny, horny, horny, horny, I'm horny, horny, horny, horny tonight" -- not far from the stone tiles on which St. Thomas Becket was murdered in 1170.

"The decline of Western Christendom continues unabated," noted Taylor, via email. His song, with its Limelight callout, was a critique of modernized brand of faith that sacrifices its message to gain popular appeal. "I think that I referred to it as country club Christianity."

Outside Canterbury Cathedral, one protester told The Telegraph: "Thomas Becket is buried in the same location in this cathedral as our late Queen is buried in St George's Chapel. Would it be acceptable to have a rave in that place? Would anyone accept that? … This is going to make people take the church less seriously than they did before, rather than more seriously."

Canterbury's dean rejected the "rave in the nave" label and argued that the "90s-themed silent disco" would show proper respect for the cathedral's cultural and arts heritage.

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Political (and religious) life inside the 'God Made Trump' video matrix

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Political (and religious) life inside the 'God Made Trump' video matrix

With its digital homage to the late Paul Harvey's "So God Made a Farmer" soliloquy, the "God Made Trump" video drew roars of support at key Iowa rallies for Donald Trump.

"And on June 14, 1946, God looked down on his planned paradise and said, 'I need a caretaker,' so God gave us Trump," said the majestic voice. The former president was God's choice to "fix this country," "fight the Marxists" and, yes, "Make America Great Again."

The script added that Trump, a mainline Presbyterian with a tabloid-worthy personal life, would "follow the path and remain strong in faith and know the belief of God and country." He would "finish a hard week's work by attending church on Sunday. … So, God made Trump."

On a first take, this "eerily messianic" video seemed like satire, noted Guthrie Graves-Fitzsimmons, author of "Just Faith: Reclaiming Progressive Christianity." After all, Trump never joined a Washington, D.C., church and was rarely seen attending worship.

"What's missing from the video is some key theological context: God made everyone," he wrote, at MSNBC.com. "God made every political opponent, journalist, American who died in war, and former presidential aide whom Trump has disparaged. God made the Christian supporters of Trump he mocked behind their backs."

This furor was political catnip for the Dilley Meme Team, the creators of this social-media grenade, especially the blitz of retweets by furious Trump critics.

Self-help author Brenden Dilley stressed that "God Made Trump" was rally material for a logical reason: "Because President Trump absolutely loves the meme. He thinks it's powerful, he thinks it's a great message. … That was repeated to me three different times. He loves the meme. He thinks it's cool."

Responding to Fox News comments during a "Dilley Show" podcast, he added: "It's not satire. … It's just art. ... This is how a MAGA-patriot, voters, creators, artistic people who love President Trump, this is how they feel about him, and this is what they created for him. How is this complicated?"

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'Naughty list' selections: Rolling Stone issues a morality warning to parents?

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'Naughty list' selections: Rolling Stone issues a morality warning to parents?

Parents in pews rarely turn to Rolling Stone for advice about pop-culture morality.

But the magazine's expose about "The Idol," a summer HBO series about a romance between a pop starlet and an edgy cult leader, produced waves of viral quotes. Production staffers called it a "rape fantasy" that verged on "sexual torture porn." One said the series about a young woman "finding herself sexually" evolved into "a show about a man who gets to abuse this woman, and she loves it."

The network cancelled "The Idol," even though a public-relations statement cited "strong audience response" to "one of HBO's most provocative" dramas.

Thus, HBO landed on the Parents Television and Media Council "naughty list" for 2023. The citation noted: "HBO has led the charge towards marketing explicit, adult content to children and teens, introducing the sexually explicit The Idol to viewers this past summer, quietly adding Naked Attraction featuring uncensored fully naked contestants, and extending teen-targeted Euphoria for another season of drugs and depravity."

National Public Radio hailed "Euphoria" as "thrilling, daring, disquieting and compelling," as well as "a parent's worst nightmare" with its focus on high-school students who have "problems handling an excess of drugs, drink and sex" and "always seem to make the worst choices."

While stressing that PTMC is secular, it's obvious that today's digital screen culture -- delivered through smartphones, tablets, laptops and, every now and then, televisions -- is raising issues that religious leaders cannot ignore, said Melissa Henson, the organization's programming director.

"Unquestionably, COVID accelerated a shift in media consumption patterns. … We're not talking about the end of traditional television, but there is no question that the audience is becoming more and more fragmented," said Henson, in a telephone interview.

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Norman Lear: It's impossible to talk about American life without including faith

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Norman Lear: It's impossible to talk about American life without including faith

Early in the premier of Norman Lear's sit-com "Sunday Dinner," the beautiful environmentalist T.T. Fagori raised her eyes to heaven and, with a sigh, entered a spiritual minefield.

"Chief?", she asked God. "You got a minute?"

In addition to praying out loud in prime time, this character offered a theological reverie at dinner while meeting the family of her fiancé, a 56-year-old widower nearly three decades her elder. The problem: His granddaughter heard Fagori mention God during a science lecture.

"You see, I talk about extending 'love thy neighbor' to include animals, plants, stuff like that. I say that the natural world is the largest sacred community to which we all belong," Fagori explained. "I talk about cosmic piety because the same atoms that form the galaxies are in all of us and it's the universe that carries the deep mysteries of our existence within itself.

"You see how all that sounds pretty spiritual. … So, when the kids hear me say these things, some of them think they hear the word 'God,' but they don't. I don't actually mention it. Interesting, huh?"

This 1991 comedy flopped, but it was an important statement from Lear, whose December 5 death at 101 years of age closed his career as lightning rod in popular culture and politics.

For decades, Lear described himself as a cultural Jew who didn't practice any traditional form of faith. He also founded People for the American Way, an old-school liberal advocacy group on church-state issues. But this television icon became more and more intrigued with religious faith, both as a force in American life and as a topic ignored by Hollywood.

During "Sunday Dinner" press events, Lear argued that America was caught in "a deep spiritual malaise, and nobody is addressing it. The Religious Right did for a period and still continues to. But mainline churches don't do that good a job of it. And the media don't deal with it at all."

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Dear Hollywood: 'A Christmas Carol' by Charles Dickens is truly a Christmas story

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Dear Hollywood: 'A Christmas Carol' by Charles Dickens is truly a Christmas story

On his way to becoming a Hollywood superstar, Bill Murray demonstrated great skill at delivering rants that blurred the line between lunacy and pathos.

In the 1988 flick "Scrooged," he belted out lessons learned from visits with the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future, as well as occupying his own coffin in a crematorium.

"I'm not crazy. It's Christmas Eve. It's the one night when we … share a little more. For a couple of hours, we are the people we always hoped we would be. It's really a miracle because it happens every Christmas Eve," proclaimed Murray's character, a greedy, arrogant TV executive.

"If you waste that miracle, you're gonna burn for it. I know. … There are people that don't have enough to eat and who are cold. You can go and greet these people. Take an old blanket out to them or make a sandwich and say, 'Here!' l get it now. … I believe in it now."

"Scrooged" is a fascinating Tinseltown take on the Charles Dickens novella "A Christmas Carol" because of what the film contains and what it leaves out, said English literature professor Dwight Lindley of Hillsdale College in Michigan.

This dark comedy contains miracles, ghosts, angels, sin, judgment, penance, purgatory, damnation, the Grim Reaper and eternal life. What it lacks is any meaningful role for God or a Holy Babe in a manger.

"Scrooged" is as "far as some people in Hollywood can go with Dickens," by "domesticating his message and making it more comfortable," said Lindley, who is teaching a six-lecture online course about this 1843 text.

The class, he added, was created for "anyone who loves the story, but doesn't know how to dig deeper into it than what they have seen in the somehow superficial versions that are around. … Some people have a sense that there is something deeper, something moving underneath the surface."

For many, watching "A Christmas Carol" on video is a holiday ritual. These movies usually include the basic story, while ignoring the narration in which Dickens frames his parable.

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'The Exorcist' turns 50 -- Visions of hell, in defense of beliefs about heaven

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'The Exorcist' turns 50 -- Visions of hell, in defense of beliefs about heaven

William Peter Blatty was pounding out the first pages of "The Exorcist" when his telephone rang -- bringing the news that his mother had died.

The screenwriter was already digging into dark material that was completely different from the whimsical work -- such as the classic "A Shot in the Dark" Pink Panther script -- that established his Hollywood career. He was writing a fictional take on an exorcism case he heard discussed during his Georgetown University studies.

But the death of Blatty's Lebanese-born, fervently Catholic mother changed everything. She spoke very little English and called her son "Il Waheed," Arabic for "the one" or "the only." He struggled with grief for five years and his supernatural thriller turned into something much more ambitious.

"I wanted to write about good and evil and the unseen world all around us. I wanted to make a statement that the grave is not the end, that there is more to life than death," said Blatty, meeting in a diner near the Georgetown neighborhood described in "The Exorcist."

It was 2013, four years before Blatty's death, and our conversation focused on the 40th anniversary of the film that brought him an Academy Award, for adopting his novel for the big screen. Now, on the 50th anniversary of "The Exorcist," critics are still debating why it had such as seismic impact.

Blatty insisted, many times, that he wasn't trying to shock people, even though the R-rated classic sent many rushing for theater exits, sickened by its stomach-wrenching visions. His goal was "apostolic, from the beginning," an attempt to inspire faith and defend core Christian doctrines, he said.

The equation was simple: "If demons are real, why not angels? If angels are real, why not souls? And if souls are real, what about your own soul? … And, by the way, if incarnate evil is real, what are you going to do about that?"

"The Exorcist" set box-office records for horror films, with numbers that soared with subsequent re-releases. At the same time, Blatty was deeply satisfied to hear priests report that, in the weeks after the movie opened, penitents lined up for confession.