sarah masen
The Dark Corner
Surprised by Sin
"In view of the endless power of men to hypnotize themselves into unawareness in the presence of challenge, it may be argued that willpower is as useful as intelligence for survival. Today we need also the will to be exceedingly informed and aware." Marshall McLuhan "Have 98% of Americans already found what I seek or are they so sunk in everydayness that not even the possibility of a search has occurred to them?" -- Walker Percy, _The Moviegoer_ My brother tells me of an old American expatriate he knew in Germany who has a strange fascination with the Isle of Patmos. Of his voyage there, the man (Lawrence) tells of mountains, monasteries, a house David Bowie had built on the place, and a cave in which, according to tradition, John received his vision of the Apocalypse. The fellow doesn't consider himself particularly religious, but he reads widely and has a longstanding preoccupation with the manner in which the Sermon on the Mount has transformed the way human beings regard one another. Lawrence also fondly recalls that, along the ceiling of John's cave, there are three large cracks which are somehow related to the transaction whereby the vision was received. The tour-guides claim that these inexplicable cracks represent the Trinity, and somehow, Lawrence was impressed. He likes to point out that the man, John, had been praying and fasting for days, and, whatever one makes of the inspiration of Scripture, he was, above all, "receptive." Please note that when Lawrence says, "Receptive," it's with eyebrows raised and hands outstretched. That's the way my brother describes it anyway. And for Lawrence, if there's one indispensable faculty out of which all personal, emotional, moral development will come, it's probably receptivity. When we place alongside it availability, discernment, and watchfulness, we have the essential attributes of Frank Black, the longsuffering hero and central character of "Millennium." Black is an ex-FBI agent currently employed by the Millennium Group. His career in the FBI had come close to destroying any hope of life, love, and peace with his wife Catherine and very young daughter Jordan. The Millennium Group is, among other things, a kind of consultation firm brought in by law enforcement agencies when conventional means of ending conflicts or crime-solving bear little promise of success. In the Branch-Davidian confrontation at Waco for instance, it was later learned that some of the FBI negotiators had assumed that Koresh's "Seven Seals" were animals. This is where Frank Black comes in. He'll calmly point out that a murder suspect's message quotes Yeat's "Second Coming" or observe a pattern among seemingly unrelated crime scenes which can be understood through the lens of Scripture or a line from Dostoevsky. Police investigators and officers on the scene often find his interpretations implausible and blatantly counterproductive, but Frank understands that for every problem there are simple, obvious answers which are entirely wrong. This makes for one of the many tensions on the show: the general intolerance of mystery, complexity, and transcendence versus the openness without which there can be no understanding. Frank is in possession of what the Millennium Group insists upon calling a gift. By his own testimony, he's not psychic but merely capable of (and incapable of refraining from) seeing with some clarity into the heart of darkness. Unlike his peers, he's willing to acknowledge how acts of evil are borne out of the everyday. He'll analyze the terrifying manner in which a killer objectifies his/her victims but not without seeing too that this business begins in the mind-numbing self-centredness of ordinary life. What is more, he can't escape the conviction that to withdraw from his work, to retreat into the safety and comforts of home, is an act of complicity; a swallowing of the popular lie that evil is something "out there." And yet, what does true fidelity to his family entail? Wouldn't real love of wife and daughter demand that he bow out of the conflict altogether? In truth, Frank is never sure. In his best moments, he is moved by a trembling confidence that he must embrace the paradox; that he must somehow love his family well while remaining in the trenches of conflict and engagement with the world around him. The momentum of the program constantly reminds the viewer that it's Frank's soul that's at stake. One episode culminates with Frank's conversation with a ghost who informs him that the Powers of Darkness are willing to cut him a deal: Stop what you're doing, and we'll promise health, happiness, and security for you and your family. He refuses the proposal. As the show ends, he does not emerge victorious or with an extra spring in his step, but he is wiser, humbled, and stronger. "Millennium" is often very rough viewing. It's put together with the conviction that portraying violence in an unrealistic manner is to undermine human dignity and the seriousness of the subject matter. And, of course, there are times when one might assume that this conviction has been abandoned completely. But at the very least, the stories told have much to share in the types of conversation a great many people are interested in having; talk of how alienation turns us into monsters, how superficiality is destructive, and what spiritual authenticity might look like. The best episodes provide us with an anatomy of human evil. There are crimes of passion but no oversimplifications of what led to the outbreak. We're shown how indifference leads to terror and how horror comes from denying our humanness. The violence is a canvas for the development of Frank Black and the drama of his intense, unceasing effort to open his soul to real goodness. A recent episode owes much to C.S. Lewis' _The Screwtape Letters_. Four demons while away their time in a donut shop and, through comparing stories, come to the gradual realization that Frank Black can, in fact, see them. In the meantime, they revel in humankind's inability to discern the way damnation operates in their daily routine; how living their lives as they see fit eventually leaves them with lives unfit to live. One demon views the cultivation of serial killers as an exercise in futility since news of their doings might inspire people to contemplate the realities of good and evil. "And besides," he says, "Death-row is one of the few places left on earth where people can still find God." The content of the program and the quandaries of Frank Black center around the question of disposition, mindset, and personal orientation upon entering the 21st century. What should we be doing? Over time, we come to realize that the Millennium Group is a kind of religious order that's existed for at least 1500 years. As you might guess, their purposes have everything to do with the turn-of-the-century, exploring the signs of the times, and being properly prepared for what's to come. Some in the group are more explicitly Christian than others, but all share the conviction that everything's about to change. And when it all comes true, how much of my so-called life will make the cut? What was true and real and what was false, fake, and worthless? The beauty of "Millennium" comes through when we begin to suspect that Frank Black, like the rest of us, is slowly finding out. His refusal to quit proceeding with what he DOES know to be right and true is what makes him a hero of mine. The thought of Frank Black always reminds me that evil isn't just about serial killers; it's also about boredom, complacency, and choosing the comfortable over the good. He also brings to mind what Glenn Tinder describes as "a watchfulness expressive of hope" and the strength with no home save weakness. God bless him.
© 1998 David Dark
