|
There are two movie scenes that have affected my life far more than any other movie scenes. Both are from movies I have never seen in their entirety, beginning to end, and both are from movies I don't really care to see in their entirety. The first was the bar scene in Good Will Hunting, where Matt Damon's character tells off the grad student. The second was the end of Eight Mile, the last freestyle battle, where B. Rabbit raps about all his shortcomings before his adversary can, thereby disarming him. When I saw these two scenes for the first time they greatly moved me and convinced me to live my life differently. To be myself and to not be afraid of myself, faults and strengths alike.
These two scenes affected me so deeply not because I empathized with them, but because they revealed my own faults and made me face them, and for that they made me a better person. Sometimes the best way to get a person to change for the better is to make him face his negative attributes, rub his face into them, make him realize what he did like he was a dog, so that he'll stop living in denial over it. He might not discontinue said negative attributes, but by being made aware of them he can become more comfortable with himself and maybe learn to live better with that awareness.
You face your fears, your problems, your cellulite, your blackheads, your gray hairs, your small dick, your stinky feet, your greasy hair, your buckteeth, and you are put more at ease. You say it loud, you let everyone know, and a weight is lifted.
My favorite paper I wrote in college was about the Canterbury Tales, specifically about the Pardoner's Tale. If you don't know the Pardoner's Tale, here's a brief synopsis: he's a hideous, transexual looking dude who works for the corrupt Anglican church, and in his tale he talks about all the people he's exploited and made suffer with his power as an employee of God. He boasts about it, too, and all of the other people listening to the tale are disgusted by what he says and hate him for it. They ostracize him before his tale because he's weird looking, and after his tale they ostracize him even more, and then someone else tells a tale.
In my paper, I argued that the Pardoner told such an honest and cruel tale as a form of revenge and also as a form of social protest. Right now I'm focusing on the latter reason. I argued that by being so outright and obnoxious about all of the evils and misdeeds he performed, he was challenging the people listening to the story, he was challenging them to realize how unfair and unjust the world they lived in actually was, and by making them come to this realization, he hoped one of them would react and demand that something be changed. I argued he intentionally incited their rage to make them sit down, assess their situation, and try to come up with a solution. As much as he has the power, by telling his story he offers them the power of information and hopes they will use it to their benefits.
Obviously the Pardoner fails; everyone just makes fun of him and keeps ignoring him when he's finished. That's not the point. The point is that someone who is in a position that should eventually be overthrown because of its immoral and unethical practices can still somehow work for the virtuous by being brazen about his ability to perform misdeeds with impunity. The phrase "What're you gonna do about it?" can be taken literally, it can be a question worth finding an answer for. And by having someone ask that question, it makes people realize they've hit a wall, and they have to figure out a way to knock it down.
This is not me trying to justify evil acts. Evil acts are always evil acts. But daring someone to make a change is proof that those in power are not entirely heartless -- it shows that they are human, that they crave a challenge, and in some cases they might be grateful to have someone throw them off their throne, because it shows that evil can never keep in control forever. It's a fucked up idea, but it's one I like, because I think it's important to always try and understand every perspective, always. If you understand every perspective, and you still disagree with someone, it's a lot easier to say "Well if we ever get into a civil war I probably won't think twice about killing you" and not get angry about it."
Holy jeez this did not come out as well as I would have liked it to come out. I probably should have hit the bars tonight. I think this might be a better "conversation" topic.
|