Job, God, and Suffering

You might argue that in most films there's some degree of suffering- after all, it's not a good story unless the main character bounces back from somewhere. But there's suffering, and then there's suffering- losing your significant other to a bad break-up versus losing your child to cancer. It's a wide spectrum and there might be a lot to be said for that- is human existence merely suffering with brief moments of bliss? Most 'layperson' films slide anxiously over the idea of the reality of human suffering, although again, most have elements of it. Characters and societies suffer, but they end up absolved from suffering.

I could wax philosophical for ages on this.

I think there are a lot of films that present suffering and dealing with suffering in one or two or five similar ways (ending in neat little conclusions in which everybody's happy), which is ridiculous because there are 7 billion ways to deal with suffering. Nobody suffers the same, and nobody deals with suffering the same. Sure, you might try to categorize. The five stages of grief. Anger management counseling. Therapy. Drugs. Alcohol. Self-isolation. Madness. Born again Christians.

What I'm trying to spit out here is that the experience of human suffering is difficult to tackle. It's hard to get a grip on because it's like trying to rip out your own heart to examine how it goes. Part of most people's knowledge about suffering is based on faith (more on that in a second) and part on experience. People who go through some immense pit holes and survive the journey to the other side can impart, somewhat, what real suffering means for those who have it easier. And the lightly burdened people can step back and feel blessed, because they are the same, and have not been re-shaped by despair.

We asked, "Why do good people suffer?". I branch out in two directions. I'm a realist- probably there is no reason other than suffering "just is". It's random chance, it happens, move on from it. But I'm also an English major- personally I think, "Well, it makes your story pretty interesting, doesn't it?". Don't know if there's a God Up There, reading our stories individually. For me there doesn't have to be a why, because face it, you're not going get that answer in fine print. There's suffering- there's also happiness. Why is the sky blue? Why aren't tangerines purple? One of the Great Unanswerables. It just is.

Rotten Tomatoes "Tree of Life" Review/Thoughts

At first glance the reviews range from cynical- "Too experimental" "Less Plato than metaphysical Play-Doh" to joyful raving- "Masterful, unforgettable", "A cinematic triumph". Which goes to show that you love this movie or you really hate it.

At the moment I'm thinking, "Jesus, what are we getting ourselves into right here," but I'm also looking forward to Tuesday's screening. You got me, I like thrills- metaphysically blowing my mind out my ears? I'm in. I'm curious to see if I'll love The Tree of Life or hate it, but I'm hoping I'll like it- by which I mean "I really hope I can wrap my head around it and not throw up philosophically in the process".

By most reviewers' accounts, the film is going to be "strange". Yeah, well, have you ever read IT? That's some strange sentiment and I somehow survived the encounter with a couple finger's hold on the story. At this point, if I can handle King, I hope I can handle Malick.

Mostly I'm rabidly curious about what Malick's trying to say with his movie. Quick, let's turn the page to Tuesday and get started.

Our Town: Act III

By the time Act III comes around in "Our Town" you kind of think you have a handle on things. You think that you know what the play's really about- living and growing up and how things change and are never really the same. And it's kind of bittersweet but malleable and the average reader can handle it with a mild sense of nostalgia.

Oh, but then the third act. The third act comes around like a punch in the gut and leaves you sitting there on the metaphorical floor, questioning life and living and death and dying. I'm kind of still reeling. How many days have we woken up and not appreciated waking up? How many nights have we ignored the stars? For how long have we not taken the time to look at our family, our friends, our enemies, and think, "Wow, you know, we're all so young and precious and beautiful, this is what life's really about."? Do we really have to wait until we're dead to realize that life really is wonderful in all it's imperfect, run-of-the-mill variety?

Wilder raises more questions than answers, and when he's not presenting questions he's pushing a point that's so obvious and yet so ambiguous that it's uncomfortable to realize that you might not have faced this question (or is it really a fact of life?) before: what are you doing in life? Are you appreciating it for it's wonders? Are you really making a difference?

The hard, truthful answer is, probably not. Today's busy lifestyle has no time leftover to stop and smell the roses. And when you don't do that, it's kind of hard to make a decent imprint. Most of us will barely make an imprint on those closest to us, let alone all of humankind. So summarily, we're going to grow up and live and maybe get married and have some kids and then we're going to die and that's the end of it. Our gravestones are the only thing, after some time, to mark our existence. And even stones get worn away with time. There's some little question of what waits for us after death, but for now I'd rather focus on the here and now. What's waiting for us today, right in front of us? And how much are we really missing?

Beasts Extended Review

Beasts of the Southern Wild was an original, avant-garde film that pulled you into the world of the Americana bayou as soon as you sat down, and two hours later you came out as if waking from a really fuzzy dream after sleeping outside in fresh air all night. Deep with meaning, full of music and life, there was so much to unravel about Beasts, at first I had no idea what to make of it until the next day or so; it took some time to settle in my brain.

While Beasts does have that dream-like, naive quality from being told from the point of view of a six-year-old girl growing up wild on the flooded side of a levee with a remarkable understanding of the universe, there is also for the viewer a sense of cold reality. Hushpuppy's father's sickness; the storm flooding the Bathtub; the governments attempts to evacuate the citizens when help is not actually wanted- these are things that Hushpuppy sees but does not elaborate on, leaving viewers to do it for themselves. Hushpuppy instead relates deeper narration to us; she explains that everything alive is connected and the same. She considers humans "human-animals", and the mythical aurochs very much real.

The aurochs represented the fantastical parts of the movie- did Hushpuppy really face them, physically or metaphorically, towards the end? What were they there to represent? The wildness of the world? The insignificance of humanity, or our ability to be the strongest beasts? Also a little surreal was Hushpuppy's adventure to "find" her mother, if that's who the woman was. If not, I think it's safe to say that she at least represented the mother figure, who ran away from responsibility and could fry-cook crocodiles. It allows Hushpuppy to plot-wise move on from needing her mother's presence and to be strong entirely on her own.

Hushpuppy's strength is both awe-inspiring and admirable. While she is a resilient child in the beginning, she has to grow throughout the movie into the strong girl leading her people through the flooded Bathtub so confidently. She learns slowly to go through life without father or mother. Encouraged to "Be a man!", she does. She stands completely on her own in her tiny community, making decisions and discoveries alone and apart, standing by the end of the movie with new strength and power, leading an expedition into a new life. This strength remains even through the invasion of the Bathtub by authorities trying to evacuate the community despite their resolve to stay. Their culture remains, however, as pointed out by the NYT article.

The underlying message of environmentalism in the film is not one that I picked up on, necessarily. I didn't find it exactly so potent as some of my classmates seemed to. Sure, it was there, but I think the movie was more concerned about the effects of people on each other and the strength of people individually.

Initially though I knew it was mystical, moving, and spiritual, after deeper thought and discussion I realized that a major theme in Beasts was strength. You don't need anyone or anything to be strong; you need only yourself and your will to get out of any situation with your head held high. It was rewarding and remarkable to see this feat accomplished so well by such a small girl. Go Hushpuppy!

*Favorite quote: "I hope you die, and after you die I'll go to your grave and eat birthday cake all by myself!"