Monday, June 11, 2007
Crying
I just read my brother Eric's post about his favorite film ever. As he talks about "Unstrung Heroes," I am struck by one part of his post in particular. He talked about how he cries each time he sees it.
I love a good movie. It would be overstating it to say that a good movie can be a means of grace, since that would minimize the true sacraments. But I will say this: movies are a means of common grace. I love music. I love books. But the combination of the senses of sight and sound combines for such a great art form.
I remember, many years ago, sitting in an apartment in La Habra with said brother in the faith Eric, watching the Deer Hunter, a film of deep sadness and great power. As the end of the film came, Eric and I looked at each other with red eyes, and said, "Man...."
I remember sitting in a movie theater in Skokie, Illinois, seeing "The Return of the King." I remember (spoiler alert!!!), as Aragorn bows to the four hobbits (and leading the rest of the humans of middle earth in the same action), hearing the audible sobs of someone in the theater. It was a man at least twice my age. A man overcome with the moment he had just seen. And the tears came to me too.
I remember sitting with my wife at the Silent Movie Theater in LA, and watching her reaction to the end of Chaplin's masterpiece, "City Lights." You see, I had taken her to that theater simply so I could see her react to that final image. An image so wonderful that it could only be made in a world where there is a God.
I remember sitting with the same woman, watching the end of "Fargo." We had just moved to Minnesota, and the the film already seemed familiar. But after we had sat through the harshness and the coarseness of the film, the final images of it began to bring a lump to my throat. You see, the peaceful image of two ordinary people who truly love each other are made even more powerful by the ugliness and the violence that one has witnessed in that film.
I just watched "La Dolce Vita" last week for the first time. It is a puzzling movie for its first (almost) three hours, but in the last few seconds, it all makes sense. And what you are left with as a viewer is something that is only possible in cinema.
God speaks to us in these ways, albeit through a dark glass.
And then there is "Spinal Tap"....oh, but that's a different kind of crying...
I love a good movie. It would be overstating it to say that a good movie can be a means of grace, since that would minimize the true sacraments. But I will say this: movies are a means of common grace. I love music. I love books. But the combination of the senses of sight and sound combines for such a great art form.
I remember, many years ago, sitting in an apartment in La Habra with said brother in the faith Eric, watching the Deer Hunter, a film of deep sadness and great power. As the end of the film came, Eric and I looked at each other with red eyes, and said, "Man...."
I remember sitting in a movie theater in Skokie, Illinois, seeing "The Return of the King." I remember (spoiler alert!!!), as Aragorn bows to the four hobbits (and leading the rest of the humans of middle earth in the same action), hearing the audible sobs of someone in the theater. It was a man at least twice my age. A man overcome with the moment he had just seen. And the tears came to me too.
I remember sitting with my wife at the Silent Movie Theater in LA, and watching her reaction to the end of Chaplin's masterpiece, "City Lights." You see, I had taken her to that theater simply so I could see her react to that final image. An image so wonderful that it could only be made in a world where there is a God.
I remember sitting with the same woman, watching the end of "Fargo." We had just moved to Minnesota, and the the film already seemed familiar. But after we had sat through the harshness and the coarseness of the film, the final images of it began to bring a lump to my throat. You see, the peaceful image of two ordinary people who truly love each other are made even more powerful by the ugliness and the violence that one has witnessed in that film.
I just watched "La Dolce Vita" last week for the first time. It is a puzzling movie for its first (almost) three hours, but in the last few seconds, it all makes sense. And what you are left with as a viewer is something that is only possible in cinema.
God speaks to us in these ways, albeit through a dark glass.
And then there is "Spinal Tap"....oh, but that's a different kind of crying...
# posted by Unknown @ 9:13 PM 
