Film As Life Writ Large

Life's Metaphors are God's Instructions.
Elizabeth Gilbert

So, now that you all know that we know one another, dear readers, I thought I'd tell you about the two films I've seen recently--and their impact for me.

Little Children, written and directed by Todd Field, is less steamy than the trailer photo would suggest. In fact, its the story about two couples, both unhappy, both with young children, and the affair between the stay at home mom, Sarah, played by Kate Winslet, and stay at home dad, Brad ( waiting to take the bar exam for the third time ). Winslet's husband spends more time on porno websites than with his family; while Brad's wife focuses on her career as a film maker and emasculating her husband with notes marked on bills she has just paid, asking: "Was this charge really necessary?"

Intertwined in their lives is a skinny, spectacled, 30-ish man who has just been released from prison after conviction for indecent exposure; and Larry, a former cop, who left the police force after he shot and killed an unarmed young boy. Larry is obsessed with Ronnie's return to the neighborhood where he lives with his mother. Larry executes his own stakeout at the ex-convict's house, using a megaphone to tell the "pervert [to] come out and fight like a man."

In the last scene of the film Brad and Sarah have agreed to rendezvous that evening on a playground near their houses, and leave their spouses for a new start. Sarah arrives only to find Ronnie there, visibly upset by his mother's death--and the one line note she left for him:"Be a good boy." Sarah runs after her toddler daughter who has left the playground where Ronnie paces in the shadows. Eventually, Larry arrives looking for him.

The Italian, a Russian film directed by Andrei Kravchuk, chronicles the journey of six year old Vanya from a dismall orphanage in Siberia to a far away village. His mission--to find his real mother who he is certain just can't find out where he is now living. Vanya is cared for by a ruthless couple who are selling children to wealthy Europeans. Vanya runs away when he realizes he is going to be sent to Italy. " I know my mother would want me if she knew this," he says, his pale face and grey eyes begging for freedom to choose.

Vanya is chased by the child traders, right to the village of his birth. Finally, Vanya is cornered by Kolyan, the relentless husband who is ordered by his wife to stand guard all night to find the boy. Vanya, caught in an alley, breaks a bottle and begins to flail it at Kolyan. "I'm not afraid of you. I'm not afraid of anything. I've come this far and I'll find my mother." Vanya then turns the jagged glass on himself, his shirtsleeve reddening with each jab.

I've written in posts in the past, that my belief has been, and continues to be, that in relationships, trust between two people isn't predicated on the trustworthiness of each of them. But the possibility of something bigger, more authentic, and filled with a dose of integrity can transform the moment. Theologian Martin Buber called it the "I-Thou". His notion was that that space between, that ether where neither person can think only of themself, is the space capable of being graced.

And so it was with these two films. For little Vanya, in his desperation slashing his wrist, Kolyan stops menacing him, makes a tourniquet to stop the bleeding, and holds the boy. "You should run now. I won't follow you." Vanya runs all the way to his mother's apartment. The camera fades to black as he calls out her name, leaving the audience to hope its a happy ending, hope that he isn't disappointed, hope that his journey has ended.

For the players in Little Children, the runaway couple changes their mind at the last minute. But the moment of grace in the film belongs to Larry. Arriving at the playground, he confronts Ronnie who is still agitated and crying. Suddenly, Larry realizes he is bleeding from an attempt at castration, and continues to repeat:"I'll be good now...I'll be good." The ex-cop picks the frail man in his arms to get him help, clearly shaken by this extreme measure.

I've heard it said:"It's just a movie. What merit can it have?" I say...that comment demonstrates very little imagination. These two films offer each one of us an opportunity to reflect on our own world, our own possibilities--and cruelties. Buber's "I-Thou" or even the simple "do unto others" always sounds easy in the abstract. But what a moment when something bigger, something sacred replaces the hate, the fear, the anger.

M.C.