Movie #16 - Brotherhood of the Wolf

DVD Sam loaned me 5 movies earlier this year.  A couple of weeks ago, he asked if I'd watched Brotherhood of the Wolf yet.  Not yet... if he'd told me that there are a few stripped-down fight scenes, I would have watched it ages ago!  At least now I have.

I'm not sure this is a movie I would watch again - although maybe if I saw it while slightly less exhausted it might make more sense.  So, if you're hoping for an intelligent plot discussion or something, I apologise.  It's not going to happen.  Set in 18th century France, there is a lot of violence, and there are a few scenes in a brothel - if you have delicate sensibilities, find something else to watch.  Especially if you get squeamish.  I started watching at the start of dinner - mistake.

Some little things before I get into it.  This was a dubbed version, and I put the subtitles on as well - weird.  The subtitles corresponded in the same way Google Translate will correspond.  There are some very funny bits, like the brothel madam indignant about the possibility of a scandal in her house.  Or the description of how Florentine women get their men to sleep at home, by giving them poison in the morning and the antidote in the evening.  I found the camera work a little annoying.  There are some aspects I really enjoyed, like the close-ups of the puddles splashing, but the frequent slow motion in the middle of action was irritating.  Not to mention the special effects of the Beast itself, which really dated the movie.

At one point, I heard phrases of music reminiscent of Dances with Wolves and it was only at that point I went "oh yeah - duh".  Native American in this movie about wolves, so how could you resist?  Haha.  There were 2 other distinct musical flavours, a fairly ecclesiastical sort (similar to Allegri's Miserere), and a gypsy style like that found in Chocolat.

In fact, the underlying theme of the movie reminded me a lot of Chocolat: the power of the cultural norm.  (It also corresponded, incidentally, with yesterday's sermon).  Everyone is born into a society with a cultural norm.  Those in power dictate what that idea of normal is, and class anyone who doesn't fit into that mould as inferior.  When those ideas are challenged, our instinct is to fight.  And in hindsight, that is often ridiculous.  In this movie, the ideas were surrounding race (is a Native American really the same race? surely he is inferior, a savage - "you don't avenge a savage with Christian blood") and the Age of Reason (Catholic practices in a world blossoming with scientific knowledge).  Some of the questions they asked were, to this 21st century view, laughable.  I had to remind myself a couple of times that they really wouldn't have known these things, and we only find out by asking and experiencing.  Compare that to now though, with the debates surrounding gay marriage - there is a photo doing the rounds of Facebook, showing a scene from a rally 50 years ago against inter-racial marriage, and a scene from a present-day protest against gay marriage, and a caption along the lines of Think How Ridiculous You'll Look in 50 Years.

And then, the atrocious things Christians do to maintain the status quo, or the Right Way, or to hold onto power.  There is even a scene so like a KKK meeting, all these robed people hiding behind the anonymity of a mask, with strength in numbers - how many of them, if they sat down with the tracts they say they are upholding, would turn around and act and think differently?  And if you are really in the right, why do you need to hide your face?   Or even, the things we do in a fight or flight mood - in this case, if we think this beast is a wolf, let's go and kill all the wolves we can find.  That way we're sure to get it, right?  But how silly we look after a bit of waiting and learning when we discover it's not actually a wolf and all those animals have died for nothing (King Herod, anyone? witch hunts?).

I write this as a Christian but more, as a human.  Much of what Christians have done in the name of our religion is indefensible.  I think though that it's more that Christians have been in power for a good portion of history, and we are human and react in human ways.  Without knowledge that what you are doing is actually wrong, but with a background of this is probably right, we'll tend to go with the probably.

Actually, I'll amend the theme of this movie:  There is nothing to be feared, except fear itself.

And now for today's photo:

Funny story here.  I put washing on the line on Saturday, which was a beautifully sunny day, if rather cool.  I didn't have time to get the washing off the line between gym, blog, and heading off to a games night... It rained Saturday night.  It rained on Sunday.  It rained Sunday night, and it's been rainy and blustery all of today.  Which is wonderful for the June long weekend, but not great for getting my washing dry.  Now I have to work out what I can possibly wear to work tomorrow.

The Washing of the Feet

Today is Maundy Thursday, where Christians around the world remember the Last Supper and the Washing of the Feet.  When I was in high school I was in an environment in which it was pretty hard to avoid having your feet washed at this service, and as I don't recall going to every one I think the last time I actually had my feet washed was when I was about 15.  Very approximately, and very probably even earlier.

I have very unattractive feet.  So unattractive, in fact, that I went through a Leonardo da Vinci-style phase of drawing them (like his Ugly People, which I love).  I also don't like being touched.  Hugs are usually ok, massage very rarely (after a training session I appreciate it but that's pretty much it), but generally speaking, I value my personal space and the thought of someone touching me gives me the heeby-jeebies..  So the very thought of having someone else wash my feet is fairly horrifying.

Last night, when discussing tonight's service, I said I was just going to be there (not on duty for anything), and one friend asked, "So you're there to have your feet washed?" "No", I replied, "I don't do feet washing".  This evening when I arrived, I sat with a very dear friend, and my brother.  "I'm going to wash your feet" says this friend.  "No, I don't do feet washing" I replied.  "But I have to wash someone's feet, and I want it to be you". "So, how have you changed today?" prods my brother.  I already had something else lined up for a blog post, but the 2 of them stared me down.  It really was one of those out-of-the-comfort-zone times, I could feel my heart rate increasing and my face burning up... but this is a really good friend. 

The gospel, every time I hear this, makes me feel I should do this.  There is so much in that part that I could write a whole post on it (or relay several sermons).  After we had washed each others' feet though, Michelle pointed out the same sentence that had really struck me this evening: "Unless I wash you, you have no share with me."

Michelle is to be confirmed on Easter Sunday, and all in that position had their feet washed first, then moved on to washing the feet of another (me!) and then the cycle would continue with more people.  Feeling like an imposter, I sat and removed my shoes so my feet could be washed and dried.  The water was cool, and the towel at the ready was very welcome.  And, yes, it made me feel really connected.

Next, I took the place of the washer, and someone I hardly know came to be washed.  Interestingly, I felt much more comfortable in this position than the other.  I am not one of those people who knows instinctively what to do to help, but I am more at ease helping than being helped.  In fact, I really only ask for help if it's absolutely vital.  I imagine, though (based on not much expect instinct, assumptions, and the reactions of the disciples in the gospel), that most people feel this way.  We don't feel right having someone wash us, or do something so intimate for us, but performing an act of service is much more within our comfort zones and realm of 'normal'. 

Once we had done our foot-washing bit, we moved over to the side.  I felt so relieved it was done, but also much more fulfilled for having done something I feel I should do but haven't for many years.  After that initial reaction, though, I realised the choir was finishing singing.  I had not even heard them, but it was one of my absolute favourite choral works - Durufle's Ubi caritas.  I guess my brain was so taken up with the washing of the feet it didn't have any space left for music. 

Movie #2

The second movie I picked up last Tuesday was Doubt, which I watched last night.  My brain has been chasing itself in circles all day as a consequence.  (It was also rather reminiscent of a board game I played recently, called 'Scruples' - in this morally grey situation, what would you do?). 

Although it is set in the early 1960s, the situation is not exclusive to that time - as Meryl Streep says, "There is nothing new under the sun".  People are still doubting the character of others, children are still bullying each other, we are still eating the forbidden fruit.  And then lying about it.

However, actions speak louder than words.  In the Catholic parochial school context of the movie, isn't it better to be kind, as Sister James is to all her students (and everyone, for that matter), and as Father Flynn is towards Donald Miller?  Donald speaks highly of Father Flynn, and it is clear the priest is the only one who makes this 12-yr-old black gay boy feel like a worthy human being.

At this point in my musings, I think Sister Aloysius must have it wrong, she must be the dragon in all this (and Meryl Streep does Dragon Lady so fabulously well).  Yet.  No matter how much we hope to be living in a world of rainbows and soft kittens, the reality is grittier.  Not everyone adheres to the same rules.  Some people think the rules are more like guidelines.  Humans are human, flawed, imperfect.  And as a principal of a school, Sister Aloysius has a duty of care towards the children.  If she is too quick to believe the explanation of a suspected misdeed, she might be turning her back on the welfare of a child.  We'd all like our parish priests to be saint-like, but what if that's not the case?  What if there was more to the explanation, more that wouldn't be looked upon kindly, that would be evidence of wrong-doing?  Surely, then, Sister Aloysius is in the right...?  Better to have a priest of suspect morals removed, rather than always be wondering if there's something wrong and damaging going on behind closed doors.  In the end, though, it is evident she is wracked with doubts, the poison of leading a suspicious life.

The contrasts in this film I find interesting.  The suspected priest acts always in a Christian manner (kind, loving, protecting); the nun set on proving his guilt 'steps away from God in the pursuit of wrongdoing' (a line said near the beginning and repeated at the end of the movie), and she even lies - an admission the naive Sister James finds horrifying.  The nuns eat in silence; the men eat merrily, joking and laughing.  Dragon lady forbids ball point pens ("Every easy choice today has its consequence tomorrow"); Father Flynn wants a secular song included in the Christmas pageant - maybe Frosty the Snowman (gold!).

What would I want, if I were a parent of a child in this school?  Someone suspicious and fear-inspiring, who will nevertheless be on the lookout for anything harmful to my child?  Or someone who will act with kindness, maybe 'take a special interest'? Not having any children, that's really a hypothetical situation.  I know that children need boundaries and structure; I know that children need kindness.