I watched a movie today.
It was the kind of movie that I'm sure you wouldn't think twice about, even if you'd heard of it. I'd certainly never heard of it before my sister asked me if I wanted to watch it with her. Neither of us had ever seen it.
The premise was simple: a dull, boring, but more or less goodhearted guy (Rain Wilson, 'The Office") marries a recovering drug addict (Liv Tyler, "LoTR"), loses her, and tries to get her back. The first lines of the movie are an inner monologue of Rain talking about the two best moments of his life, the moment he helped an officer serve justice, and the moment when he married Liv.
Rain is a person of questionable sanity and reasonably strong faith. In the handful of scenes when he prays to God, I felt my heart fracture, the cracks spreading down familiar lines, as he begged God for help and direction. He knows very well that he might be insane; he continually questions himself, unsure of whether he is conversing with God or just talking to his own twisted mind. Regardless of his doubt in himself, Rain has an incredibly strong sense of morality, even going so far as to equate cutting in line with rape and the selling of drugs.
To make a long story short, Rain receives a vision that he believes is from God, which is more likely his warped interpretation of the situation at hand. The 'Holy Avenger' tells him that he has been chosen and shows him a symbol. Rain awakens and creates a superhero outfit. He then dubs himself the 'Crimson Bolt and sets out to fight evil and get Liv back.
This is where I'll stop talking about specifics, because the specifics are twisted. This movie is, on many levels, disturbing. When I watched it, I saw things that I wish I could un-see. I heard language of the most foul variety, witnessed far too much awkward cringe humor, and beheld several scenes of multiple kinds of rape. This movie is not comfortable. It is sick and deranged.
But more than this, it is honest. It is so disturbing because it tears away a facade of perfection and beauty that has dominated storytelling where superheroes are involved. When we go to see a superhero movie, we expect things to be a certain way. We expect it to be formulaic. The hero starts as a regular person. Tragedy strikes, vows of revenge are uttered, villains are faced, a lesson is learned, and good old fashioned justice prevails. A perfect example of this is the recent 'Captain America' movie. It shows the world as we wish it was, with clearcut heroes and clearcut villains. To put this in perspective, let me tell you about something that struck me so hard, that it inspired me to write this blog entry.
My sister went into this movie expecting wholesome, superhero action with good guys wearing white and bad guys wearing black, twirling their mustaches and practicing their laughs. After the movie was over, she was disgusted. She immediately turned on an episode of Justice League: Unlimited, in which bright, flashy music played as our wise-crackin' hero dispatched the stereotypical villains. Black and white, pure and simple. But I realized something after watching this movie.
Life isn't black and white, nor pure and simple.
The movie, entitled 'Super', doesn't have any superheroes. It might not even have any regular heroes. Instead, it shows both the world and the people in it as they really are. People are shown buying drugs, raping, beating each other senseless, hurting one another emotionally, lying, cheating, but more importantly, it shows us one of these deranged people trying to be good. He fails, repeatedly, but as he puts it, "The truth was written on my heart."
I recommend that you see this movie, but know that you'll be disgusted. Your comfortable reality of right and wrong will be challenged. When the strange, the horrific and the so-very-wrong present themselves to you through this film, you'll think to yourself "Why am I watching this?" You'll think back to me, and your faith in my good judgement will be shaken, maybe even shattered. You'll want this movie to never be seen by anyone, and you'll wish I'd kept my opinions to myself.
But if you can persevere to the last two or three minutes in the movie, you'll realize a few things. Rain, addressing the audience through an inner monologue says "I know how this looks. You might think I'm crazy. But sometimes the way a thing looks and the way a thing is are two completely different pictures." Rain does some pretty despicable things in this movie, but he almost never swerves from his belief in good. "The rules were made a long time ago," he says. "They don't change." He sees, in hindsight, that however filthy he is, his earnest attempt to do good has born fruit. If it hadn't been for his lack of sanity, he would never have found the courage to try and save Liv. He does save Liv, though she leaves him a short while later. While she didn't truly return his love like he'd hoped, his actions motivated her to clean up her act, go back to school, meet a lonely but good man, have several wonderful children, all because Rain tried his best, however horrible, to do something right.
The truth is that we're all sick and deranged people. Whether by choice or by accident, we've all fallen away from the good, but not completely. As disgusting and vile as we are, there is a small spark of the divine in us that takes pride in things that are honorable, noble, pure and good. We all long to love far more than we long to hate, and sometimes we are chosen to do good, even if we are inherently bad.
There are no superheroes, only sinners and sinners who want to be good.
There is a need for both realism and idealism in art. Realism to deprive us of any false sense of invicibility and self-righteousness, idealism to remind us of the standards towards which we must strive.
ReplyDeleteBoth help us not only understand ourselves better, but the place of law and grace.
Discuss...
To Dr. Awkward,
ReplyDeleteFrom Daughter Awkward,
I think that idealism is not so appropriate in literature/art as you think. A good example of my point comes from Mark Twain, himself an writer of(exaggerated) realist fiction. In "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn," when Huck determines to free Jim, his runaway slave friend, Tom Sawyer resolves to help. Tom has heard many stories and read many novels in the school of Romanticism--characterized by its often impossible portrayal of the ideal. Tom constructs an elaborate plan to free Jim, more elaborate than necessary, in fact, to the point of delaying Jim's rescue and causing him pain and distress---all because he wanted to live up to an ideal that in fact was no ideal at all, just one that human beings had constructed for the sake of drama.
Obviously, the idealism in Romantic literature turned out to the detriment of Jim in "Huck Finn." So perhaps that idealism fell short of the truth in some way, failing to uplift and edify its readers properly. The question now becomes, then, how does one portray an ideal in literature? One must first know what the ideal is in order to write about it. But to fallen human beings know the ideal? Even if they have seen it in Christ, do they truly know it? I think not. We see glimpses of perfection, and we know perfection when we see it, but I don't think we can construct perfection at will. I would be very arrogant to write an idealist book, for example, claiming essentially that not only did I had sufficient knowledge of the good to portray it in literature, but also that I could do it well without any hint of deception of mis-depiction that necessarily comes with sin. In a world of sin, I don't think real idealism (notice the conjunction of the adjective "real" with the noun, haha) can exist at all.
What then are authors to do? I can't say I know for sure, but I can make a few suggestions. Authors should portray life, throwing in what examples of perfection they have seen and what wickedness they have seen. This more aptly falls into the artistic function that you defined as "realism." Art requires humility, an aptitude for keen perception, sympathetic vision, and an ever-broadening view and understanding--not a willful persistence under some flawed intuition of the truth.
And I think you have a hidden premise in your comment, namely, that realism necessarily implies pessimism. For the secularist naturalist, this can often be the case, but it is not necessarily so. Mark Twain belongs to this category, in fact, alongside several other American authors of his time. However, a Christian realist, while she can and should admit that humanity, of its own devices, subjects itself to the bondage of sin, she must also, if she indeed has faith, portray the real grace and love of God, reminding those who engage with her art that the REAL fact of the matter doesn't have to make you cringe when you experience it.