While waiting for my visa to be processed I decided to go to the canadian civilisation museum and watch an IMAX movie. It was about the arctic, and how global warming is affecting the polar bears.
The story follows the journey of a mother and her two cubs. So majestic, so elegant and beautiful... Like all mothers, she leads her children to survival, breastfeeds them, protects them from all dangers, and is willing to sacrifice her own life for that of her offspring. The way they cuddle, the way the mother plays with her young, the way she goes hunting for food and brings it home for the cubs to eat. It's love... Universal motherly love and compassion, motherly kindness and care...
I can't believe I started crying there and then. Not just once, buy several times throughout the movie. I could not be think of my own mother, how she has nursed me, nurtured me, raised me and (together with dad...) given me so much (and more) so that I will stand on my own feet one day.
I heart wrenches from the emotions of loss and pain, a strange feeling for she is still around, she is still alive, and I speak to her everyday. But I know, I know mum is leaving me soon...
And soon I must stand on my own feet... How can I keep from crying...?
I lay down towards the end of the movie and without realising it started to tear. Tear first, and then cry. Silently cry as mum slept on her bed a few steps away from me. I was lying down in a position that she could not see my face.
The movie "How are you, dad?" (爸，你好嗎?)really touched me. It is a movie composed of short, extremely touching stories about dads and their families. A dad who is distraught by his son who wants to undergo a sex-change operation... A dad who sits at home alone at night after the children visit him and celebrate his birthday... A dad who cries on his birthday next to his daughter, who due to an accident is now in a vegetative state... A dad who risks (and loses...) his own life to save his two children from drowning... Various shorts about the silent sacrifices, unexpressed feelings of love and devotion and longings, and loneliness of dads throughout the world, from all walks of life.
The end credits had recordings of various members of the public declare their feelings toward their dads. Declarations of love and intimacy, in several languages, yet the messages are all the same. Tell someone you love him/her, express your true feelings and do not be afraid of your feelings. Tell them before it is too late! Show them and love them when you still have the chance!
I cried watching the expressions of love of so many people. There are perhaps things I did not say to dad I never had to the chance. I never said : "I love you!", because it feels strange and embarrassing. Even though I "keep in touch" still with my letters, he is now long gone, and whatever I say to him or write to him is replied only with silence. How I wish he is happy, how I wish he is free now and can enjoy the life and many pleasures of life he deprived himself of while he was still with us!
I turned to look at mum, and saw the tube coming out of her nostril. Her chest heaved, her mouth slightly open, her body twisted in a mangle again in that protective foetal position. She looked so fragile, so weak... How she is suffering deep inside! How I wish I could do much more to take away her discomforts and mental anguish! I cried even more seeing mum lie there...
I lost dad, and I am losing mum, slowly, slowly losing her... Those beautiful expressions of care and love to dads at the end of the movie could just as much be expressed to mums, to my mum. And one day, I may sit and dream and ask "Mum, how are you?" and receive a silence as a reply...
I became so afraid, and I cried even more silent tears. Why suddenly did my mind drift to my ex? Why did I imagine him by my side, why did I close my eyes and imagine him comforting me and holding me so tightly like he used to do before? Why is it that in my deepest moments of despair, I have the urge to write to him, to contact him...? I haven't contacted him for over two weeks now, the last time we spoke I unleashed my feelings and asked him how he could tell me he loves me and cares about me so and yet still be with another person. I told him how afraid I am, having to deal with my mum's situation and to suddenly receive hints that he wants to be with me and help me get through this... In my deepest moment of despair, in my moments of sorrow, I cannot help my thoughts drifting to him, even though I feel we have drifted apart...
The movie left me longing, for dad, and fearing the loss of my mum. The movie left me longing for my ex, left me wondering about how beautiful it would be if I could talk to him and not have to feel like I am the "other" person...
I wrote him a text message, rightly or wrongly, I wrote to him.
I've been longing to watch this movie for a while, ever since it came out last year. It received great reviews and broke box office records for a locally produced movie. But I was afraid to watch it because of fears it may trigger a flood of emotions and tears caused by my breakup with my ex.
Today was the tv premier and I watched it together with mum in the comfort of her new private suite. Even mum has been wanting to watch the movie, for it is based on a novel which beautifully captures the romance of high school puppy love back in the day. There is a reason that the movie (and novel) captivated the nation's audience, for it is a trip down memory lane to those pubescent days when love and intimacy felt all so taboo yet exciting.
In mandarin, the title is "The girl we were all after in those years...", about a bunch of adolescents who all have a crush and all want to go after the same girl. The main characters are in a love-hate relationship, and the girl plays hard to get even though she too likes the boy a lot. As she explained to him one day, many years after their high school years, the initial romance and chase is the most exciting... she never really reciprocated earlier because she was afraid that the romance would die soon after the chase is over...
Those words spoke to me, for for a long time I played hard to get with my ex, even though deep down I care about him, perhaps even love him without realising it. Had I been clearer, had I not been playing games and playing hard to get, perhaps there would not be so much heartbreak, perhaps we would not become so estranged, and perhaps as I am dealing with my mum's slow decline, I would have a comfortable friend and lover I could feel free to turn to at any time.
But what never was will never be, as I once wrote to my ex. What is the point of talking and regretting over what ifs or ponder what would have happened?
In the movie, fate twists and turns and only time can tell whether two people are meant to be together, whether two people and their love for one another ia true and lasting. Is that not the way it is with my ex and me? If he truly has found his love, what else can I do but let him go, as I have done already, and wish him the best, however much that may hurt? What else can I do but just withdraw from his life and let the new person take care of my ex's needs?
As the credits came on, my eyes were a little moist and my heart was singing in the beauty and warmth of the romance portrayed by the story. Love that could not be, love that so strong an mutual and lasting... Is that not the most beautiful kind of love?
Naturally mind drifted to my ex.... I truly genuinely wish he is happy with the person he is now, and I have by making distance and deliberately not contacting him, maintained my distance so he can resolve me and move on. That seems to be his wish, and he has his wish. Whether or not that wish coincides with me does not matter. If you truly care about someone, you let him go, you let him be free to go after his heart's true desires. True love is when you can smile and be happy that the one you love has found someone and is well taken care of.
But truth be told... And I will write this here even though I know one day he will read this and know exactly how I feel. I am not afraid to express how I feel, for who should be ashamed of their live for someone? Who can ever be afraid to say out loud how much you care about someone and love someone still, despite a lot of ugliness and hurt (both ways) between us in the recent year and recent months?
Yes, as a dreamer and a romantic, I imagine in my head that one day when we meet again, the passion, the fire that was so prematurely dimmed will be relit. How beautiful that would be if it is ever to become reality! How happy I would be, as I believe he would be too, if what he tells me about how deeply he loves me is true and from his heart.
I dream that he will again do something to move me, to touch me, do something so special for me that I will again be in his life, and he in mine...
Only time will tell whether. Only time will bring us together or make us drift apart, for it is meant to be what it is supposed to be.
Long holiday
As mum was vomiting three, four times this evening, I was watching a touching movie. I should have not continued watching, for the more I watched, the more I cried...
"Long holiday" (長假) the movie is called, and is about a mother from a lower class family with a husband who likes to gamble and a son who is only eight years old. She toils and toils to keep the household running, until one day she starts to nose bleed. Cancer of the liver. Chemo does not help, and the cancer spreads rapidly. She thinks of a way to tell her son, and tells him she's going on holiday, a long holiday...
My tears flowed incessantly towards the very end. The mother has prepared letters and asked a friend to send the letter every single year on the same day till he's twenty years old...
I was so overcome with emotions, emotions which have been building for two months, and which till the other day have not yet been fully released. Now, I cannot even touch mum's frail, bony body without needing to turn and quietly weep, whether inside, or very silently weep with heavy tears....
The mother passes away, and that just made me cry even more. Am I afraid of losing mum, really afraid, more afraid than I realise, now that that day seems to draw ever closer and closer? Is that why I am crying? Or am I just too sensitive and have let the emotions simmer for far too long without having a proper outlet?
I am perhaps lucky, I remember thinking to myself in that final scene when the boy is wandering around the forest calling out: "Mama... Mama... Mama..." with streaks of tears down his cheeks.
I have at least had twenty more years more time with mum, even though much of those years were spent apart...
“There is
no medicine. All you can give is the love of family, love plus care.”
I bought the movie Leaving Gracefully (帶一片風景走)some weeks back, hoping that we would have the time to sit
down and watch it together as a family. I knew the theme would have a lot of
meaning for my family, but in the evenings mum has either been too tired or
too ill, so we never got around to it.
Only today,
on my birthday, or because of my birthday, did mum and I manage to watch it. Half way through, brother
called from the other side of the world to say he arrived home safely. Tears I shed
were just drying when he called.
The movie
is based on a true story. In 2008, a
husband and his wheelchair-bound wife, who is diagnosed with spinocerebellar
atrophy, spent 84 days and walked over a million steps to circumnavigate the
island of Taiwan (a distance of around 1000km). The working class couple
touched many hearts as they walked around the island, and the media dubbed it “Love
of a Million Steps”. How far would a husband go to share how much he cares and
loves his wife? What would you do with your life when there is limited time and
space? As the wife slowly loses her motor skills and ability to speak, the
husband decides to fulfil a promise he once made to her. He wants to take her
oyster hunting at low tide, he wants to take her on their first honeymoon, for
they never had one; he wants to take her on a final journey, and defy what the
doctor said about it being impossible.
And they
did manage to do it, in a revamped wheelchair, with a flimsy shopping cart trailing behind, and with the husband pushing all the way. One step at a time, slowly,
in sunshine or in rain. Passerbys offered them encouragement and support, some
gave them shelter and food, some even offered them rides. But the husband
refused, for he said he wanted, needed to walk this final journey with his wife. Just the two of them...
“Even
though we cannot walk hand in hand, our shadows on the ground are together…”
I shed
tears quietly at many moving moments, and quietly wiped away the tears. At one point, the wife insisted to return home
after already walking for over a hundred kilometres, in order to sing happy
birthday to their daughter. That scene was perhaps even more touching as today was my birthday. The lady, though she has almost lost the ability to speak, tried hard to sing "Happy Birthday" to her daughter. The daughter, obviously moved, ran to hug her mother, and together they cried... Another touching scene was when while going up a steep hill the husband fell, but the first thing he does is ask whether his wife is alright and tends to her needs… Such is their love, the husband's deep commitment to the care and comfort of the wife till the very last moment of her life. How beautiful that is, that love, that affection, which is unconditional and resolute, which transcends the purely physical. "I will grow ugly..." the wife, knowing how the disease will affect her looks and make her eyes bulge and her arms shrivel, said to the husband at one point, to which he replies "And I will grow old..." He loves her not for how she looks, but for the person whom she is, until the very, very end. Their marriage vows were truly forever.
The doctor who initially
diagnosed the wife became deeply touched and inspired. Though there is
no cure, he realises, of all the patients he has seen before, this couple defied his opinion
of what a person with a degenerative brain disorder can achieve. Whereas everyone
will gradually disintegrate and die in the end, the couple showed their
determination to decide life for themselves, and how “Just being happy is good
enough…”
It is not
without reason why I wanted to watch this movie, especially watch it with mum. It
is my hope the movie will fill mum with hope. Perhaps, seeing that husband and
wife, she will be inspired and tell herself: “If they can do it, if a person
who is wheelchair-bound and has lost all control over her body can, then I too
can live and be happy…”
(translation
mine)
Can the
soft, soft wind hear? Hear me quietly describe the past?
Don’t let that past vanish. Your little smile was so beautiful.
The waves made up your face, the sky was full of rosy clouds.
The spray of the waves is emotionally attached to the blue, blue sky. The tides
never forget the vows of love.
Tightly, tightly [I] hold your little hand, [and] remember to take love away. Longing is like the tides and is not dispelled, [it] is before one’s
eyes.
[I] cannot differentiate
whether it is the rain or tears,
Please, moon, [I] hope she can accompany you,
And fly away with a little smile…
If you missed the Pope’s latest message of love and peace a few days ago, I will try to capture one of the essences. The Pope rightly reminds us that it is not only humanity’s responsibility to safeguard the “earth, water, and air as gifts of creation”; we must also ensure that the “order of creation” and the “nature of the human being as man and woman” be respected. Any “devaluation” of that order will lead to the “self-destruction of man”.
The general media is right to quickly jump to the conclusion that this is the latest attack on homosexuality, something that the Pope had earlier labelled as a "tendency" towards an "intrinsic moral evil”. In the true spirit of Christmas, the message of brotherhood, love and peace continues with His Holiness’ call to “defend love against sexuality as a consumer entity”, and to defend “the nature of man against its manipulation”. According to Benedict XVI, modern conceptions of “gender”, so “often expressed and understood”, has led humanity astray, driving man to “act alone and to dispose ever and exclusively of that alone which concerns him”, even if it means “living contrary to the truth”. So much for his Orbi et Urbi speech a few days later proclaiming that “hope – the heart of the Christmas message – is meant for all men and women” and that “the grace of God has appeared to all”. The words and emphases are His, not mine.
It is sad that such a message comes out of the mouth of one of the most influential religious figures, who is supposed to be God’s representative on Earth. And this coming three decades after the first openly-gay American politician Harvey Milk was cold-bloodedly assassinated.
Milk’s political career and rise is wonderfully captured in the movie with the same name.A somewhat soft-spoken man, he ran for office from his little camera shop on Castro Street of San Francisco. He mobilised the gay community and gay-friendly businesses and associations, galvonised workers’ unions and ethnic groups on a liberal platform. Milk’s campaigning would become a grassroots and integrated political process that championed not only equal rights for homosexuals, but also social welfare for the disadvantaged and marginalised. After a number of elections, he finally became a city supervisor. During his term in office, he spearheaded the passage of a gay rights ordinance in San Francisco, despite the fact that all throughout the US various counties and cities were rolling back equal protection of rights to work and privacy for gays.
America in the 1970s was marred by Christian fundamentalism. In the aftermath of various bans on same-sex marriage in various states of the US in November 2008, it is perhaps striking to draw parallels with America of then and today, which is similarly lead by a (neo-)conservative political force buoyed by a strong religious right wing. Then, with the likes of Anita Bryant, the ‘Save our Children’ campaign aimed to spread “Christian beliefs regarding the sinfulness of homosexuality and the perceived threat of homosexual recruitment of children and child molestation”. Today, through similar Bible thumpers and orthodox religious fundamentalists,such fabrications of truths and false propaganda are still being perpetuated and sanctioned with people’s blind faith in God. The spreading of fear about threats to core family values, myths about the “gay plague” and the “corruption” of children is used to startle and scare. It would be only a matter of years before people ‘came out’ to reveal the hypocrisy and “true nature” of priests who on the one hand preach against homosexuality and condemn child abuse, yet on the other hand commit such ‘sins’ behind the altar.
In messages and words similar to Obama today, Milk emphasised hope, and the need to give people hope. It is hope that can lead peoples previously sidelined and forgotten to unite and believe that change is possible. It is hope that can transcend the imaginary boundaries of sexuality, gender, class and race to forge an unstoppable force connected with shared longings for equality and social justice. It is therefore no wonder that Time proclaimed Milk one of the 100 most influential persons on the 20th Century.
Shortly before Milk was assassinated, he uttered these bold words:
“If a bullet should go through my head let that bullet go through every closet door.”
Indeed, as the bullet pierced through his head that took his life, the bullet symbolically opened the doors of many previously closeted gays and lesbians. The assassin, a political rival of Milk, was left off lightly. An anti-gay jury agreed that junk food caused chemical imbalances in the perpetrator, and this defence was enough to lower the sentence to five years imprisonment for manslaughter.
Milk’s death, and his life of political activism, however, set an example for other gay-right activists to follow, and set a precedent for the gay-rights movement. Milk’s refusal to be silenced or to admit defeat when the country seemed to be against him, were based on that firm belief enshrined in the American Declaration of Independence: that “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creatorwith certain unalienable Rights”.
I end where I began, and return to the enlightened message that not only the current Pope, but also many before him, have repeatedly brought across to millions and millions of believers, young and old.
Lest you have forgotten, salvation comes to those who does the Creator’s work, and lives by the Creator’s rules—despite the fact that this same Creator, His very grace and benevolence, are supposed to have appeared “to the whole of humanity”. Though the Creator has created all men equally, the Pope kindly reminds us that the perversion of sexuality and sex is a great threat to the human race—a s great a threat as global warming and the continued destruction of the Earth’s fragile eco-system. If we do not recognise and deal with these threats, we are on a path to self-destruction. We must live the Truth, and defend the message and one and only “nature of man and woman” that our Creator has willed and created. That is the work and responsibility of the devout and the true.
This kind of message is also the seed of discord, intolerance, and wilful ignorance that has led to countless crusades, inquisitions and the spreading of despicable acts and words of violence and hatred in the name of religion.
Nothing says it best, or better, than Milk’s own words—or perhaps warning too: “That, THAT my friends, is true perversion”.
I read the book, and I went to watch the movie. The Kite Runner is an extremely moving tale about friendship, betrayal, and the hauntings of the past that return to haunt. As a line in the movie simply puts it, the longer you do not deal with a problem the worse it will get.
Set in Afghanistan, you follow the childhood and adulthood of a boy. Kite flying brought him much joy, and was a reminder of a past in which the snow was pure, and the streets still filled with the smell of kebab. The invasion of the Russians, the grip of the Taleban, and Afghanistan was changed. And so too was the life of the boy. He left, to start life in the promised land, yet images and bonds of the past were not so easily cast away.
Touching, moving, tear-jerking. Not only because it deals with the struggles within each of us to be honest and brave even in times of fear, but because it reveals the truth and the its forcefulness to transcend lives, times, and places. The truth tears people apart, but also eventually serves to bring strangers together.
And it reveals another truth too. One that too often this sexist world is unwilling and unprepared to face... that boys, and thereby men, for men are but boys of bigger growth, can be rape victims too.
I came out of the cinema, eyes still somewhat moist from the end scene. Awed, and taken aback. And taken back...back to when...
"Wow," my friend said, "What a great movie."
I agreed with her.
"It's horrible... Sodomy. How could people do such a thing... to kids?"
"It can happens," I said, "It happens a lot."
"Yes, and the sad thing is it's not talked about. It happens a lot more than we realise, but men just have a hard time talking about. Society just cannot see men as victims."
"True. It's hard to talk about. You're looking at a victim right now."
Sinterklaasavond is the eve before Sinterklaas returns back to Spain. On this night, the Holy St. Nicolaas pays every household a visit, and leaves a gift for those good people who deserve the best things in life.
Even my office closed early today, and by 4 pm the streets were packed with cars as people rush home on this Dutch version of Christmas Eve. The tradition is that you put your shoe next to the fireplace, and by the morning, surprise, surprise you will get goodies. By 4pm, everyone had already left the office, but I stayed behinda bit longer...
I had bought some sweets and chocolates letters, and tip-toed around the office and putting it on the desk of my colleagues. It's something I do every single year to friends. I secretly give them a chocolate... sometimes simply by putting it through their mailbox, or placing it in a place they'd find it, or by sending it to people who live in another country anonymously. I don't really want anything in return, and I don't expect anything either... To me it's just good fun, and I like to think of the pleasant sweet surprise people get when they receive an anonymous gift. Spreading the love, if you will...
Yet, stil, on this evening when family gather around a warm fireplace, when dreams and wishes are made and fulfilled, when loved ones thank one another for all the happiness and warmth they give one another, it is lonely being alone.
After I delivered a gift to a special friend who has helped me a lot in the past year, I wasn't sure what to do next. It was around seven, and the streets were deserted, and cold. And it rained too, making it seem even more dreary. I went into a restaurant and had a cheap meal of Indonesian food, and then wandered the streets a bit more...
Then I saw something as I walked past the cinema. A poster for the movie "Alles is liefde" (Everything is love). I've heard about it for sometime, and knew that it was a Dutch movie based more or less on the original "Love Actually", which is a romantic comedy based around Christmas, when miraculous the most miraculous consequences occur, and strangers find one another and find love. The big difference with the Dutch version of this movie is that it has a gay couple, who kiss a number of times and even get married. Thanks to Dutch open-mindedness...
To be honest, at first, I was a bit uncomfortable going to the cinema alone, especially watching a movie that is about love and falling in love. All around me in that cinema hall, where around a hundred people, couples, families, young and old, and it seemed like I was the only one there all alone. But when the movie started, I blended into the dark and didn't mind too much any more.
The story-line is simple. Set in Amsterdam, around the time of Sinterklaas, and random people meeting by chance find one another, while others rekindle their love and rediscover one another's feelings for one another.... about families coming together again after troubles, and about a long lost son who discovers his long lost dad... It's sappy and romantic, the kind of things that you can easily lable 'movie magic', and the kind of coincidences that could only occur on a big white screen... Even so, this movie made me wipe away tears from the corners of my eyes. It was so touching for some reason, even though it was stereotypical, it touched me so much, because it embraced many of the dreams and ideas I live and long for...
"When you're young, you'll believe anything. Spinach will give you muscles, your father is the strongest man in the Netherlands, and Sinterklaas is real. But there will be a day that you look at the man's shoes and think... wait a minute, those are my fathers shoes. You always suspected something like that but it's all getting through to you now. It's nonsense to believe there's a man with a long white beard in Spain who takes the steam-boat to the Netherlands every year to put something in your shoe. And another thing, spinach won't give you muscles, The Netherlands will never win the world cup and you won't marry your teacher.
You will get older and more miserable. The only moments in life that you feel the same like you did back then are the moments you love someone. Truly love someone. Everything that is stupid or hurts falls away. Love is all and we have to keep believing that. So what if we all together decided; Sinterklaas is real. We'll still know that we'll have to buy the presents ourselves but it's the thought that counts. That we keep believing that it can still work out for us, with love. Because love is like Sinterklaas, you have to believe it, because else it's all lost."
It sums up my thoughts very well... and the actors, many of them famous, bring the dialogue and comedy and romance alive. Love is out there, to be found and unwrapped, like a special gift you have been waiting and wishing for, and will eventually receive. Even after disappointments, even if people let you down or don't give you the same in return, you have patience. Little gestures, little words, little glances, little moves... not just the love between lovers, but also between friends and family, between strangers too.
Because love is everywhere, and everything is love.
"If it's about love, then sooner or later we're all too lat. It's about those tiny happy moments in between. Moments when everything just about then fall precise into their places."
Especially the scream… the long, howling wail as the wife discovers after almost two weeks of waiting and hoping that her husband, who simply disappeared, had been brutally beheaded by Jihadi kidnappers. The scream, her banging against the walls, the tears streaming down her already darkened eyes from lack of sleep, the saliva clinging onto the corners of her mouth as she wails, and wails and wails till there’s nothing else to wail but a heart-wrenching emptiness.
Nobody can imagine what it’s like to loose a beloved. Nobody can imagine what it’s like to wave goodbye to your beloved, believing later that night you’d meet again. Nobody can feel the pain and sorrow of Marianne Pearl.
A … Heart is a really touching movie based on the true story of a wife’s search for her husband after his unexplained disappearance in 2002. The main characters are no other than Wall Street Journal journalist Danny Pearl (…), who on his final day conducting investigative journalism in bustling Karachi was lured into a set-up by a terrorist cell and held hostage for many days.
What follows is the undying faith of his wife (Angelina Jolie) in love being able to survive and be felt despite the unknowns, despite the separation. Feelings more accentuated as she was at the time carrying his then five-months old baby in her. Within two hours, the movie is a powerful mix between intrigue, thriller, and suspense, captured in chaotic scenes, and depicting the consequences of the ‘humane treatment’ of (so-called) “illegal combatants” held captive at Guantanamo Bay, and what tormenting consequences it had on the Pearl family as events unfolded. It shows how the worst excesses of misguided foreign policies and wounded national prides can so perfectly intertwine with the deep-seated fanatism and hatred that can lead to such extremes of compelling people to hurt and instill fear into others in the name of the religion, and of vengeance. Anger leads to anger, and leads to violence, and leads to a self-perpetuating cycle of anger and violence that fuels feelings of ‘them against us’.
The husband does die. But the wife is brave and fights back the tears on TV. How many people are kidnapped everyday in Pakistan (or the rest of the world for that matter) and do we not feel their pain too, she asks. Indeed, in a fast-paced need for news, sensationalism and snapshots of weeping relatives seem to sell better than how people really feel. With the journalists brandishing cameras and constantly creating a nauseating fever and frenzy with their blinding flashes, there is a subtle critique perhaps that is best echoed in the line “Have you no soul?” which Marianne Pearl harks back at a TV interviewer. We may hope that those words echo stronger and linger longer than the few seconds that they spread in living rooms worldwide.
Most moving of all, strangely perhaps, was the moment when she gave birth. A moment of release… a moment of long-awaited anticipation… a moment of joy, that after all the waiting and longing, it was not in vain.
Birth after death, creation after destruction, love after hatred.
Sweet but short was this movie I watched today. And so will be this review!
A rebellious teenage girl is sent to a Catholic all-girls school. She smokes, has a pierced nose, and wears this bracelet she refuses to take off. A frustrated teacher, who devotes more time to her students than her own love life with a wonderful man, begins to see through the girl... and see herself.
Great movie, with touching songs and quotes, like:
For one human being to love another; that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation. Rainer Maria Rilke
I ran out of the cinema as quickly as I could. Fumbled for my keys, unlocked my bike and dashed home like crazy.
A quiet night alone at the movies turned out to be a complete creepy nightmare! I had been wanting to watch this Mexican movie called Broken Sky (El cielo dividido) for sometime, and finally had the chance tonight, since this local art-house movie theatre was showing it as part of a series of gay-themed movies they're showing over the summer.
Bought the ticket, and stood around in the hall waiting to get in. I immediately noticed people staring at me, mostly old(er) men, and I just looked away, pretending not to notice. I felt like I was some kind of exotic object, and people were just watching and watching... I was just dressed as I usually am, just being myself, but that somehow attracted a lot of attention. The unpleasant kind of attention... I'm not that good-looking... am I?
As the gates to the cinema opened I lined up to get in. And I noticed this old man looking at me, and watching my every move. He let people go first, and 'accidentally' stood next to me. I ignored him, and just go into the cinema quickly. I noticed him following me, so I made a big circle and went to the furtherest seats, and sat down next to a couple.
There were many seats, more than enough. But to my surprise that creepy old man sat down next to me. I smelt his body scent as soon as he sat down. I took out a pamphlet, and pretended to read and keep myself busy.
The movie started, and I was captured by the beauty and silent powerful emotions of the film. It was so artistically shot, the characters deep and touching, sceneries smooth and telling. Even though there wasn't much dialogue, their movements, kisses and love-making were able to tell a complicated love story more than words ever could. Love, and the way it consumes you, the way you long for it like a drug, and the way it leaves broken and ghost-like after it slips away....
I would have enjoyed it more, but throughout the two hours I was sitting literally on the edge of my seat very uncomfortably. Not because of the suspense in the movie, but so that that creepy man wouldn't touch me. I was trapped, sitting in the middle and couldn't get out at all. Every now and then, he'd just turn to look at me, and make me so uncomfortable and disgusted. He put his arm on the armrest of my seat, and had his elbow really out toward my body. So I basically was leaning to the other side so that we wouldn't touch. He had his legs wide open, and I swear a number of times he 'accidentally' brushed his leg against mine.... sending shivers up my spine.....
I felt pretty sick, and was hoping he'd just go away. In my mind I was thinking of things to say to him, and wondering what he wants from me. This isn't the first time people have done that to me, and it really frightens me. I thought if he touches me I'll scream and say something so that everyone would know he's a pervert trying to stalk me...
All the while, the movie was playing and there were all these homo-erotic scenes of the two main characters making hot, passionate love... It was beautiful to watch, but then next to me was this perverted old man who kept on watching me everytime I moved...
Normally when I finish watching a movie, I sit there a while, and watch the credits and let the responses that the film triggered flow over me. But this time I didn't have time. I just wanted to get out as quickly as I could.
The creepy man stood up, and looked at me again and had his eyes all over me. Quickly I grabbed my jacket, and pushed passed the other movie-goers, pushed out the door and ran to my bike. Shivering, creeped out, and feeling dirty from the whole experience....
Children as young as five, crying, praying, fainting together at the command of the preacher. Intense, shocking, emotional.
Children homeschooled and taught that there is no truer word than the word of Jesus, and that all you do in life, you should pray for his blessing, and repent for your sins.
Children indoctrinated by 'born-again' fundamentalists, and who believe that Christianity must take over the US, and who believe that Bush is on the right path to rooting out the evils of abortion, liberalism, homosexuality and anyone who is not like 'us'.
That's what Jesus Camp was about. A beautifully made Oscar nomination documentary about the lives and one summer camp of an evangelical children's group who are taught to be God's 'soldiers', and told to wage war against everyone who is not with them, and anyone who is against them. A message that is perhaps all too similar in the War on Terror.
I sat there in the little art-house cinema, disturbed, and shaking my head, but at times also bursting out in laughter at the absurdity of it all. I have no problem with religion... but taking and forcing it on young children and filling their vulnerable minds with black-and-white messages of sin and salvation, good and evil, them and us, Jesus and the devil is just psychological torture and traumatic on the upbringing of so many innocent children who may grow up trapped and confined to this narrow and closed-off world of God, gospel and prayer.
My friend sat next to me, and she too was shaking her head in disbelief, and was even at times horrified and embittered by what she saw. Religion can heal, can fill gaps in people's lives, but when taken to an extreme of fanaticism, it becomes pure propoganda and a drug to control and subdue people. It becomes a means to create senseless masses with no free will, with no freedom of dissent, and creates a whole hysteria based on blind faith and following.
And to think these kinds of people are governing and guiding the most powerful and supposedly freest and most affluent nation in the world is just baffling...
After the movie, my friend and I went for a drink. Hours just flew by. We just sat down and talked and talked and talked. First about the movie, sharing our ideas and thoughts, but eventually we went deeper, and started to share our lives and pasts.
It's refreshing to talk to someone, one-to-one, and amazing how you can get to know a person, and realise how people have so many similar fears and needs. It's like holding a mirror to yourself sometimes... and just listening and watching, while the image talks. You learn, but also 'teach', and in 'teaching' you learn. Sometimes it takes listening to just help someone. Offering a few simple nods, or a smile of sympathy, or a short but meaningful phrase like " I understand" goes a long, long way.
And then there are those beautiful moments, when you tell other how much they mean to you, how much they changed your life for the better, how much they've give you guidance and support. It sends shivers down your spine.... shivers of pleasantness, shivers you get only when you've found and treasure something so precious and close to heart. She admires me, and I look up to her... it's like we have this symbiotic relationship at this time and this moment. And that's a miraculous thing, in this great big world with so many people to just meet someone like that, some you can take from and is willing to give... someone you are willing to give to and who will take from knowing it's out of concern and 'love' or one another, and out of the purity of friendship. It's special, unique, like everything was meant to be.
We talked a lot about love and relationships. And one thing she told me very frankly, and that I never realise was this: am I really ready for a relationship?
I may be constantly longing for it, and constantly complaining about being lonely and alone, but it will come when the time is right. Perhaps it's just too early, and I'm not prepared at all. Perhaps all I want is to have that feeling given to me, but not really realising what 'love' or a relationship means.
If I were to have a relationship, would I not just completely and totally depend on that person and expect so much that I cling on and never let go? Isn't that unhealthy and just too needy? She was really right... I should use this time alone to figure myself out, to find out things I enjoy and to learn how to be alone without being lonely.... basically to learn to like and eventually love myself, before I start to like or even love another person. Only then could there be balance. Only then could a relationship be healthy. Too much longing creates too much expectations... and will be painful and hurt deeply if those expectations are not met. She was so right...
It will come, in time, when I and the rest of the world is ready.
We parted, at close to 1am on a cool night. But inside I felt pretty warmed and comforted.
It's been such a long time since I laughed so hard and so much. So much it hurts, and replaying the scenes makes me want to laugh even more.
Saw one of the best British black comedies in recent years last night: Death at a Funeral. It's basically about the worst and best things that could horribly and delightfully go wrong at a funeral. All these family and friends coming together and deep beneath the wry, dry humour lurks even before the funeral service has begun. A receipe for disaster... and a lot of laughter.
Definitely something to watch to cheer you up... and even if you're already cheery, it'll put a smile and laugh-bugs in you for a long time to come!
Watched this lovely comedy yesterday a friend of my recommended. It's called "Imagine you and me", about two women falling in love after just a glance at each other, and the difficulties in their way of finding each other. Actually a bit predictable, but still something sweet which can put a smile on your face.
One of my favourite lines in the movie was when the two main actresses say to one another, as they say goodbye:
L: Don’t forget me. R: I won’t remember anything else.
Isn't that just such an amazingly beautiful interplay between two lovers?
