Critical Review: Lord of War

The screen brightens, you see a factory with bustling workers in hard hats and messing on clip boards. But now, the camera pans down to give you an inside look of the machines. What is happening? A bunch of metal pieces being hammered and formed into shape. Before long, it is apparent that these metal forms are all bullets. The camera becomes the “eyes” of one bullet, and you follow it into its packaging, through its many owners and dealers until finally it is loaded into a third-world country militia member’s AK-47 and fired through a little boy’s head.

Intense? Yes, very. Emotional? You bet. Necessary? Debatable. But is it effective? This scene is a perfect precursor to the film Lord of War because in just a few minutes, it thrusts you into the real point of what the rest of the movie is intended for: a glimpse into the horror and reality of violence. Andrew Niccol, the director of the film, did not write this movie about a valorized brazen war hero, fighting for honor and glory, gaining the favor of the viewer—this movie shows real violence. It gives the audience a taste of what guns are really capable of, and how they are really used around the world today.

Research and Analysis: Animal Testing

Animal testing and research is a biomedical science that uses animals for drug therapy without knowing how safe the product is (Conn 15-16).  For years, researchers have been testing on a variety of animals, anywhere from mice to dogs to chimpanzees, in hopes of finding cures to diseases or to learn how makeup affects human beings.  A large portion of the medical research is actually inconclusive and researchers in fact do not learn from the tests that they had performed.  Even though the majority of experiments have failed, researchers continue to perform them in hopes of succeeding.  According to Mike Leavitt, the Health and Human Services Secretary, nine out of ten drug experiments fail because it is difficult to determine how it will affect humans because animals are used (Williams 175).   It is ridiculous and unnecessary that animal testing is continuously used when ninety percent of trials are unsuccessful, resulting in the deaths of millions of mice, rats, rabbits, guinea pigs, primates, and other species every single year.  In addition, a large number of these lab animals go through immense pain and suffering in order for humans to be able to learn more about science and medicine (Williams 176).  Penicillin, an antibiotic, was originally made without the use of animals, which leads to many people questioning why animals are used in research when it is possible to make effective medicine without them (Conn 113).  Alternatives to animal researching needs to be developed further because animal testing is an inhumane practice that is often inconclusive and ineffective.

Critical Review: The Cries to Humanity in Princess Mononoke

Environmental issues have always been a debated topic in the world, but even with many people being aware of the problem, many people do nothing. However, Hayao Miyazaki is not one of those people. In his film Princess Mononoke (1997), Miyazaki cries out to the public regarding environmental issues – social criticism. He does so by using contrasting music and colors, and juxtaposing scenes during the movie to convey messages to the reader. For instance, Miyazaki contrasts peace scenes and war scenes to convey how war devastates the environment, and he also depicts how humans are at fault for destroying the wildlife by contrasting lively nature scenes and life-devoid scenes together. In short, Miyzaki is very effective in sending his post-humanistic messages to his viewers by using juxtaposition, colors, and music to invoke possible emotions – sadness, admiration, awe-struck, hatred, etc. – in the viewers.

To begin, Miyazaki uses music to relay how war devastates nature. In one particular scene, the mood and the music of the scene are very peaceful and serene. By having an orchestra with brass instruments, Miyzaki’s music invokes in the viewer feelings that causes them to realize the message in the movie.  For instance, in the peace scene, the violins start off smooth and light, which to me, sounds like bliss. Then with the addition of the flutes, I feel like I can just fall asleep to the lullaby-like music. Plus, the music gives (to me) a sense of tranquility and it actually makes me want to be at the peaceful forest at that moment. In fact, the soothing music helps me relax from a long day of work. However, my feelings soon change when the music shifts to war music. The thundering bass drum, crashing cymbals, and the deep brass instruments contribute towards making me feel ‘antsy’. In contrast with the peace music, the war music makes me feel the opposite of what the peace music makes me feel. The music makes me cringe, makes my heart race, and makes me feel like I’m riding the roller coaster of death. Through this change in music, it makes me see the movie scenes more critically, because my emotions are integrated in with my views. Instead of just seeing the scenes as two factors fighting each other, I also see how war devastates nature – the message Miyazaki wish to convey to his viewers.

I Am Not a Farang: A Culture Narrative

To be regarded as a “foreigner,” or what is locally known among the Thai people as a “farang,” is not something anyone is comfortable with. You’re viewed as an outsider, like you don’t belong there. I know I don’t look fully Thai because I’m half Thai (from my mom) and half Caucasian (from my dad). I have freckles, I’m not tan and I certainly don’t have black hair. Now, if you have any knowledge at all of southern Thais, they typically have silky black hair and relatively dark skin. Before I go any further, you should know that I grew up on a backpacker’s island in the Gulf of Thailand where most foreigners were tourists on a budget. All of them had somehow mastered the art of haggling before their visit to our island, and the local residents referred to all of them as “farang.” So, for me to be called a “farang,” even though I was born and raised there, was absurd to me. Just because I didn’t look like the typical Thai person and because I spoke two languages rather than one, does not mean I didn’t belong. In fact, it pushed me to try to be as Thai as possible to prove both to myself and other locals that I belonged.