A Tale of Three Movies

Every Christmas I go to the movies more than I do at any other time of the year. I prefer to read good books if I can, but during the time around Christmas there are usually enough good reviews of movies to help me overcome some inertia, get off the reading couch, and get to the theatre.
This Christmas season I have seen three movies so far: two “feel good” flicks and one “feel bad” couched as a comedy. I happened to see the “feel bad” one first, and it turned out to be the best film of the three, partly because it portrayed most successfully and deeply one of the shallowest characters ever brought to life on page or film. That film is Up in the Air starring George Clooney as the cliché-ridden corporate downsizing surrogate who flies around the country firing employees so that cowardly managers can float above the discomfort that might arise from doing it themselves. His secret goal in life is to attain 10 million miles on American Airlines and thus achieve a status only a few frequent fliers have ever reached. If that isn’t shallow enough, he has a fling with a female fellow traveler, only to end up the victim of the very false sincerity and life compartmentalization he peddles.
The second movie I saw was Invictus, Clint Eastwood’s adaptation of the story by John Carlin of the developing relationship between Nelson Mandela and Francois Pienaar, the captain of the Springbok Rugby team and prominent symbol of the apartheid regime Mandela had just replaced by his election as President of South Africa. The book is titled Playing the Enemy, a title Eastwood dropped in favor of the title of the Victorian poem Mandela had memorized in captivity and used as his inspiration to keep himself from ever losing hope during his nearly three decades of imprisonment on Robben Island. Mandela is played by Morgan Freeman, who creates an image of Mandela as someone positioned between, say, Abraham Lincoln and God. Of course, playing God is old hat to Freeman who actually did so in the movie Bruce Almighty. Therefore, it is no wonder Freeman is able to infuse savior-like qualities into Mandela’s character. By the end of the movie whatever racial tension had been simmering in the country is resolved for a triumphant moment: South Africa wins the World Cup on its home turf and brings together in celebration the new nation without having to arise out of the ashes of civil war.
The third movie was The Blind Side, also based on a true story. This is a modern version of a Horatio Alger Jr. story in which an abandoned, gigantic, educationally malnourished and traumatized young African-American is taken in by an upscale white family. He had been recruited by a football coach at a Memphis Christian private day school that the white family’s kids attend. The person who takes the lead in both the movie and family is the mother, played by Sandra Bullock. The black youth is young Michael Oher, who, thanks primarily to the mother’s love and inspiration, becomes a star lineman for the school and eventually for Ole Miss.
A turning point occurs toward the end of the movie as Michael is trying to make the 2.5 grade point average necessary to qualify for a Division I college scholarship. It all hinges on a final essay, whose topic his adoptive “father”(Tim McGraw) suggests. It is a poem by Tennyson, “The Charge of the Light Brigade” that Michael identifies with, thanks to his “father’s” football allegory interpretation. Michael is able to analyze the poem successfully, finally pleasing his heretofore cynical English teacher to earn the scholarship.
Conspiracy theorists would insist that Hollywood’s turning to Victorian poetry for inspiration means they are up to some kind of bizarre leverage or subliminal messaging, but these two “feel good” films could not be philosophically further from each other. They are meant to move whole different species of human sensibilities. The movie Invictus is about the successful, bloodless revolution of South Africa in which the black majority gains representative power over the white minority that has ruled for centuries. It is about justice on a grand scale, not a personal one. It is about a hero who brings peace and hope to a whole country, not to just one individual or to one sector.
The Blind Side, on the other hand, is a personal “feel good” movie if there ever was one. It shows the individual actions of white individuals, identified as Republicans at one point when they hire a tutor (Kathy Bates), who happens to be a Democrat, to support their new “black son.” They gloat the irony of having a black son before they have ever even met a Democrat. They courageously reach out to a lost young man with lots of hidden potential and help him become a success on his own terms. He chooses his destiny, as the film painstakingly elaborates and insists. The family only helps him get there. The implied conclusion is: See? If Michael can do it, any one of those other guys back in the ghetto could have too, but they turned their backs on their opportunities and sank back down into the sucking morass of drugs, gangs, and violence. In short, it shows that it does not take a village to raise a child; it takes strong individuals who reach out from their stronghold of financial security and individual courage to do the right thing. It’s the few, the tough, the marines, the 600 (Light Brigade). “Theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die.”
It is manifold irony that two very different films involving race cite two Victorian poems written at the height of the British Empire, the ultimate manifestation of colonialism One poem is passed along from black leader to white; the other from white father to black son. The words of “Invictus” (meaning unconquerable), the poem by Henley, inspire hope for eventual justice for a whole country but are essentially about trusting yourself as the sole source of inspiration (I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul). In contrast, “The Charge of the Light Brigade” says, even if our leaders (the adults in our lives) are wrong, we must do our duty, uphold our honor, and show our courage no matter what. We must do it for the team! Both are incredibly individualistic inspirations that find application in such different ways: one to a whole country, one to a young man.
For Mandela, who is alienated from his family as he takes hold of the Presidency, sees the whole country as his family. He takes the time to learn the names of each of the Springbok players and as much personal information as he can about each. The movie shows Peinaar (Matt Damon) as the primary figure on the team, but we get to meet other individuals, including the black member of the otherwise white squad.
In The Blind Side, Michael’s football team members are nameless and faceless. His “team” is the Tuohy family that adopts him. Their uniqueness and goodness as a family serves as the base from which Michael will launch himself as a unique individual. He has his team, and it is the nuclear family. Mandela’s envisions his team as a whole country.
Is it just the difference between wholesale and retail? I think not. It is the difference between two completely different notions of freedom and justice: one is individual, self-contained, small scale. The other involves finding freedom and justice in belonging to something larger than the self; the larger, the better. One is libertarian; the other liberal. Both are valid, just as the microscope and wide-angle lens have their respective purposes. The question is: can we make room for both in our lives?
I wonder how long it would take for redemption or reconciliation to take hold if we rely solely on the goodness of individuals like the Tuohy family? On the other hand, there are still destitute townships in South Africa where poverty is alive and well. The provision of basic housing and sanitation is long in coming. Mandela’s rainbow coalition is still a dream, held back by a populace still slow to change, both black and white.
So far in America, we keep arguing about which is better: structural or individual justice. Maybe it is time to quit trying to dismiss one in favor of the other. Maybe both are the answer.