Being a somewhat studious teenager, I managed to avoid a lot of those films that were seminal to my peers. I am still regularly ridiculed for not having seen Grease, or Dirty Dancing etc.Over the last few weeks, I have been steadily rectifying this, and working my way through some of the backlog. This has been a joyous education (‘Oh, so that’s where that quote came from’…. ‘ahh, now I understand that joke’… etc).
Last Saturday night’s offering involved The Shawshank Redemption. I’ve seen clips many times, I’ve even used them in a sermon or two, but I’d never sat down and watched the whole thing. I wasn’t disappointed, although I did spend significant bits of it hiding behind a cushion with my fingers in my ears. Tee Hee.
I think the thing I liked most about Shawshank was its lessons about hope and perseverance. I was struck by the power struggle. A lot of the time it looked like injustice would triumph. It looked like there was no way to buck the trend or to maintain dignity. I loved the ending, the way everything was turned around. And it showed that victory wasn’t won overnight, it was planned, literally chipped away at day by day for thirty years. That’s patience!
One of the bits that struck me most was that, at the end, having dug a tunnel and crawled through it, the last leg of that crawl was 500m through a tiny sewage pipe. How often is that ‘last bit’ of any challenge seemingly the worst bit and the moment when the temptation to quit is strongest? But it’s all worth it when he is out of that pipe and feeling the rain on his chest and experiencing the scent of freedom, and that’s true in our lives too.
Last night I watched Dead Poets Society. I knew nothing about it, but as the film began, I was soon engrossed. I laughed, I cried, I was inspired.
Two quotes I thought especially marvellous were:
“I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life … to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”
“Now I’d like you to step forward over here. They’re not that different from you, are they? Same haircuts. Full of hormones, just like you. Invincible, just like you feel. The world is their oyster. They believe they’re destined for great things, just like many of you, their eyes are full of hope, just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because, you see gentlemen, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in. Listen, you hear it? — Carpe — hear it? — Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary.”
With hindsight, I notice that the themes were actually pretty similar to Shawshank. Take a repressive situation, add some characters who will shake that up a bit, throw in a devastating plot twist or two so it looks like they will be utterly subjugated, and then have hope and freedom triumph at the end.
In Dead Poets, that freedom is marred by pain. It is hard won, and tinged with a real sorrow. By the end, I was sat on my friend’s sofa, amazed again by the strength of individuality, and yet raging against those situations which seek to oppress and force people to conform.
And that’s perhaps why I don’t watch many films. Because I can’t bear to see a situation played out on screen that I know happens, in real life, all too often. Maybe without the 1950’s music and the standing on tables, but in homes and schools and workplaces and dare I say even churches across this city. And I want to stand on a table then. To say it doesn’t have to be this way. To encourage people to stand up, to face whatever would seek to repress them, to hold on in those situations where it feels like all life and colour is being drained out of their world, to wait for that moment when the back door is left unlocked and God says, ‘Go… run now. This is your time for freedom’.
And I want to find those who have run from those situations, only to find themselves in worse captivity. Prisoners to substance, or sex, or despair. And I want them to know that freedom is possible. That rescue is on the way. That there is a God who loves them desperately and has a plan for their redemption. And that they too, can live boldly, can rise above all that life has thrown at them, can find hope and joy and experience the rain falling on their faces and the scent of freedom turning everything around.
Thanks for an interesting post. John.