The above trailer is from the movie Precious, and is based on the novel 'Push' by Sapphire. If you haven't already seen the movie, then I'd highly recommend it. If you don't mind a bit of 'in-your-face reality', it's a rather gripping movie.
The main actress, Gibourey Sidibe is absolutely brilliant, and the other actress who was also a standout is Mo'Nique. Their complex character portrayals are so insightful...so raw...so believable, that you become inextricably caught up in them. You're transported to another world which you're happy and grateful that you weren't born into it.
It's been that sought of week...observing other people's worlds, whether through fact or fiction...through books or movies. It's always interesting to take a glimpse of what it would be like to live in someone else's reality. For some reason, the films that move me the most are the ones that also make me uncomfortable. Usually it's because the content can be so disturbing.
One movie that comes to mind that made me feel sick inside was 8mm with Nicolas Cage. It's about snuff movies (a porn movie ending in death). I didn't even realise that these worlds existed. These soughts of movies really shake me up and I feel quite unnerved inside for some time after. The residual effect can be quite draining and can leave me feeling extremely sad and depressed. It's hard to explain, but it's like a certain 'evil' or unnatural vibration which permeates your soul and shakes you up. As it says in the above synopsis of 8mm..."You have to be a really sick person to enjoy this movie." It was a difficult movie to watch and is quite graphic and gory in parts. So be warned!
And lastly, I've just started reading a book I picked up at the op shop for $1 (I love op shops!) It's called 'White on Black' by Ruben Gallego about his life in Russia as an orphan with no hands and no feet. This is the preface 'On Strength and Goodness'...
"People sometimes ask me whether what I write actually happened. Are the heroes of my stories real?
I answer: It did, and they are real, more than real. Naturally, my heroes are collective images from the endless kaleidoscope of my endless children's homes. What I write, though, is the truth.
The sole characteristic of my work that departs from, and at times even contradicts, the authenticity of real life is my authorial view, which may be rather sentimental, occasionally breaking into pathos. I purposely avoid writing about anything bad.
I'm convinced that life and literature have more than enough of the dark side. It's just so happened that I've witnessed too much human cruelty and hate. To describe the vileness of man's fall and bestiality is to multiply the already endless chain of interconnected blasts of eveil. That's not what I want. I write about goodness, triumph, joy, and love.
I write about strength. Spiritual and physical strength. The strength each one of us has inside. The strength that breaks through all barriers to triumph. Each one of my stories is a story of triumph. Even the boy from "The Cutlet", a rather sad story, triumphs. He triumphs twice. First, when out of the chaotic mess of his useless knowledge, and for lack of a knife, he finds the only three words that have any effect on his adversary. And second, when he decides to eat the cutlets - that is, to live.
Those whose sole victory is their voluntary departure from life triumph as well. The officer who perishes in the face of a superior opponent, who dies according to regulations, is a victor. I respect such people. All the same, what's most important about this man are the stuffed toys. I'm convinced that sewing teddy bears and bunny rabbits all your life is much harder than slitting your own throat once. I'm convinced that on humanity's scales of a child's delight in a new toy vastly outweights any military victory.
This is a book about my childhood. Cruel and terrible though it was, it was still my childhood. It doesn't take much for a child to retain his love for the world, to grow up and mature: a bite of lard, a salami sandwich, a handful of figs, a blue sky, a couple of books, and a kind word. That's enough. More than enough.
The heroes of this book are strong, very strong people. All too often a person has to be strong. And good. Not everyone can let himself be good, and not everyone can overcome universal misunderstanding. All too often, goodness is taken for weakness. That's sad. It's hard to be a human being, very hard, but altogether possible. And you don't have to stand on your hind legs to do it. Not at all. I believe that."
It's all these stories that once again remind me to be grateful of the life I have and enjoy.
What I like about these stories, whether fact or fiction, is that, in spite of everything, as Ruben Galago puts it...they are 'stories of triumph' (except for 8mm). Generally, I prefer stories of triumph, even though in reality that's not what always happens. But triumph doesn't just have to be about how it ends. It's about the small ones along the way that make all the difference in people's lives...our lives. What's most important is that we collectively, over a lifetime, have more triumphs than failings.
My husband and I were discussing the dramas that happen in people's lives. People we know, people we've heard about. We often agree that we lead quite boring lives...very little (self-induced) drama. We are a 'happy little family' and compared to other families, our lives are quite mundane from the perspective that we wouldn't be good fodder for reality TV.
But that doesn't mean that our life is uninteresting. Quite the contrary. What can help make life interesting I believe, is the fullest involvement and awareness of all your senses and faculties, of what is going on around you, and the interest and compassion you show for the people you come into contact with. As Jesus' second commandment says, "Love your neighbour as yourself". If we could all do this, wouldn't the world be so much happier?
* Weigh-in 60.9kg's