The first time I was on the left. This time, I was on the right. The first time, he tucked his head into mine that was looking forward. It was a sneak of a kiss, but one that was warmly welcomed with an enormous rush of adrenline.
The second time was equally thrilling, but in the movie theatre we were crouched down in the chairs, hiding a bit from the rest of the world, and more involved in each other than in the movie. There seemed to be others there, and it seemed to be a group of gay, male friends. There were about six or seven of them around us, while we pretended to listen.
I attended the movie "Up in the Air" this evening, in a small, vintage theater in Ashland, Oregon. The theater was impressive, with bold colors, delicate light fixtures and a humble stage. After all the hype and excitement surrounding movies like "Avatar", and "Sherlock Holmes", this was a dramatic change of pace for this moviewatcher.
I wasn't sure what I expected, the cast looked compelling enough to go and see it, and with the description of the movie found on my newly loaded iPhone app, Flixster, I thought it fit the bill nicely for a light comedy with some Clooney eye candy.
I was wrong. My experience may just have been because I was expecting a different movie than what I saw. Perhaps with a different impression, my review of the movie would be different.
While I can't give "Up" a thumbs down, I was surprised by it's depressing nature of life, work, and love. The sheer fact that the loss of jobs in mass execution is something that is done virtually without meaning, and the vast black hole of the reality of human choice left me with a sadness of truth often forgotten. Further, that taking a risk on making a connection may be something we tend to take for granted this day in age. But in the words of Alfred Lord Tennyson "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."
Under my recent circumstances of facing unemployment by choice, I appreciated the spin of "a new opportunity" in light of the faced unfortunate circumstance. It made me think perhaps my choices not as hasty, but as taking for granted the fact that I hold the talent and desire to strive for my dreams, instead of settling for a paycheck without loyalty.
The movie left my heart a bit depressed with the heaviness of truth in business and truth in life. Clooney's character made his living by delivering the worst of news to hundreds of people a month, provided motivational seminars to white-collared sell-outs to eliminate the responsibility of life and live with an "empty bag".
My bag is full, not of the possessions that I own, (in fact there are hardly any) but of the people and experiences I have had the good fortune to know. It begs the question: is life something you make, or is life is something that has been given? And at what point, should it all be tossed away to achieve the dream?
I would recommend seeing this movie, for the thoughtful script, the engaging characters, the execution of the actors, and the wonderful soundtrack. Just beware of the raw truth of human life.
This is a film with Robin Williams as Dr. Malcolm Sayer, and Leonard Lowe (Robert DeNiro) a thirty-something male who has lived his life since age 11 as a catatonic patient in a chronic hospital. The only person left in his life is his aging mother, who visits him everyday to comb his hair, put him to bed, read to him.
Dr. Sayer, with a background in botanical research is hired out of desperation by the hospital to deal with the chronic psychological patients. Being used to being alone, and mostly removed from humans in his personal life, Sayer finds himself connecting "atypical" symptoms among the most removed patients. After relating the disease to Parkinson's, he finds a drug that helps pull each individual out of their numbed minds and back into the world of the living.
Dr. Sayer: You'd think at a certain point all these atypical somethings would amount to a typical something.
There are several fascinating occurrences throughout the movie of the will and drive to help humankind. After he finds the medicine a cure to Leonard (DeNiro), he asks donors of the hospital to help fund the costs of the cure to the other handful of patients to the tune of $12,000 a month. Eventually, each of these patients are brought back to life where they can walk and shower by themselves. The viewer watches each of the patients remember who they were and who they are in a world they no longer recognize.
Lucy: "I can't imagine being older than 22. I've no experience at it. I know it's not 1926. I just need it to be."
Anthony: [cheerfully] How's it going? Frank: How's it going? Anthony: Yeah, how do you feel? Frank: Well, my parents are dead. My wife is in an institution. My son has disappeared out west somewhere. [pause] Frank: I feel old and I feel swindled, that's how I feel.
Margaret: Miriam, there's no easy way to tell you this, so - your husband - he was granted a divorce from you in 1952. Miriam: Oh, thank God!
At the climax of Leonard's recovery, he calls the doctor in the middle of the night, pleading that he needs to talk to him. Sayer rushes to the hospital to find a clear headed, exhilarated Leonard.
To paraphrase, he communicates to Sayer that people are missing the point to life- taking for granted the simpliest things, like human touch. He's baffled by the lackluster approach to life he's seeing people adopt, just to get through the day. He notices this is the failing of humans, and he dedicates his illness and his life to making people understand.
Of course not everything is what it seems. Before long, the medicine begins to wear off, and Leonard continues to fight for his freedom of life, loosing in the end.
Dr. Sayer: His gaze is from the passing of bars so exhausted, that it doesn't hold a thing anymore. For him, it's as if there were thousands of bars and behind the thousands of bars no world. The sure stride of lithe, powerful steps, that around the smallest of circles turns, is like a dance of pure energy about a center, in which a great will stands numbed. Only occasionally, without a sound, do the covers of the eyes slide open-. An image rushes in, goes through the tensed silence of the frame- only to vanish, forever, in the heart.
The story takes you through an emotional rollercoaster of sadness, humor, triumph, perseverance and determination, and leaves you fulfilled and inspired about life.
Dr. Sayer: What we do know is that, as the chemical window closed, another awakening took place; that the human spirit is more powerful than any drug - and THAT is what needs to be nourished: with work, play, friendship, family. THESE are the things that matter. This is what we'd forgotten - the simplest thing.
Among the hard work, determination, insecurities, passion, deliverance, and success lies the strings that keep us connected to each other and to this life. It's here in the thread where we find the inspiration to keep going, keep trying. As healthy, active, thinking men and women, we have the capacity to grab ahold of this life (or metaphorically let go) and say WHOO HOO!
