Sometimes, in the evening, when the rain comes in,
I like to watch it. I like to feel its coolness,
Sitting on my porch, Alone.
Although, I suppose I’m not really all that Alone.
I do have the rain—memories floating inside me,
Pouring forth, eternal, ephemeral.
And the dark woods, too.
So no, I suppose, I’m not really alone.
Still, I like to think that I am.
I like to think that it is just me out on my porch,
Watching the rain—watching the water fall, Alone,
Drop by drop by drop,
Onto my wood porch.
And when it’s over, I like to go back in.
But maybe I shouldn’t;
There’s so much more raining left to do.
This weekend I saw three movies; they all, interestingly enough, we related. I saw (in this order) What the Bleep Do We Know?; In America; The Motorcycle Diaries. I didn’t realize until just now, that they all had something to say about life. Perhaps one could argue that any story has something to do with life, but these movies seemed to touch the theme in three unique ways.
The first, What the Bleep…?, takes on the metaphysical aspects of life—the mergence of quantum physics with spiritualism. The movie is part narrative, part documentary. Various experts in psychiatry, medicine, physics etc. discuss how reality is shaped by our perception of it, not necessarily its rules. I’m not going to explain it any further, since I’ll start confusing myself as much as you, the reader. I think it offers some interesting ideas, and some dangerous ones; if you had the time, it might be worth seeing.
In America is the modern story of a small Irish family coming to America (illegally). The husband and wife have two young girls as they start their new life in a drug infested, cross-dresser haven of a tenement house. What could easily have become a depressing, cynical account of such a transition, is far more fair—showing both the ups and downs of starting a new life.
I’ve thought about pursuing American Studies in grad school, and this film makes my theory more sound: in order to study American society and culture, it should be studied from the outside. The older sister, who seems to be 12ish at one point turns to her 8 (9ish) year old sister who has just said “cool.” “See,” the older sister says, “she already turning American—it’s disgusting. Where’d you hear ‘cool’?” I never thought about it, but “cool” may be one of the most American of words—at least as far as we use it here. But how many of us realize it? It might be as American as “bloody” is British. Without removing ourselves from the immediacy of American culture, however, we probably wouldn’t have been able to see it.
Likewise, the girls decide they want to go Trick-or-Treating for Halloween. They don’t know what it is or how to do it; they just hear bits and pieces about it at (catholic) school. “Here, you don’t ask for candy, you demand it. You knock on someone’s door and threaten them: Trick or Treat,” says the older sister. So what do they do in their apartment? They walk up to a door and bang on it repeatedly, yelling “Trick or Treat!” Again, how many of us ever thought about the strangeness of our Halloween custom—innocently extorting candy from neighbors? It’s not until we stand back and see our culture through another’s eyes that we can really grasp its uniqueness, idiosyncrasies, and its beauty. Of course America isn’t the only country with strange customs; they probably would gain as much insight into their culture by looking at it through another’s eyes as much as we gain doing the same.
The final movie’s topic may shock those that know me. It’s the story of Ernesto “Che” Guevara. That’s right, Che. As in the communist revolutionary who supported Castro’s take over of Cuba; as in the man whose face graced the backdrop of Rage Against the Machine concerts. Though the film hints at Che’s communist sympathies, The Motorcycle Diaries tells a story of the pre-revolutionary Che, based upon his own diary.
In the early 1950s, Ernesto Guevara, a medical student, decided to ride around South America with his best friend Alberto Granado, a biochemist. The wanted to see a land that they had only read about in books. It’s the best foreign film I’ve seen, one of the best films I’ve seen. By really focusing on the 8-month voyage, the film is able to go into great depth. And youcan see just how much potential is in the young Che (though he is not the legendary Che yet; he’s called “Fuser” by Alberto), and the images in the film are gorgeous.
So what does it have to do with life? Che’s diary begins with (and this is a paraphrase) “This isn’t the story of heroic feats. It’s the story of two lives running parallel for a while.” I think that’s a wonderful way to look at the trip these two young men took. They went on this adventure, not for the adventure itself, but for what they would learn about their world and their life. Its was almost an experiment—a move to gain greater perspective (a topic I’m sure this blog will revisit before long). Anyway, SEE THIS FILM. Its worth it.
