729 Warriors

Friday, June 9, 2006

I watched Once Were Warriors today. I found it a very powerful movie.

I don't much comment on movies. When I used to go to "message" movies with friends, they always wanted to discuss it afterward, over dinner or drinks. I'd mostly remain silent. If a movie had any meaning to me at all, I'd want to think about it for a while before expressing an opinion. If it had no meaning at all, why discuss it.

I also seldom recommend movies to friends, because I don't think what you get out of a viewing is necessarily universal. Meaning doesn't come from the movie - it comes from what you bring to it. A good movie will pull something out of you, force you to look at what is inside you in perhaps a different way. So my opinion would probably mean nothing to anyone else. (Beyond "Yeah, it's a good story/exciting/romantic/funny.")

"Once Were Warriors" affected me because of the subject matter. It was more powerful even than it should have been because the woman looked a lot like my mother. But my mother wasn't strong. She sacrificed us. Sometimes I don't know whether to love her, hate her, or feel sorry for her, and this movie didn't help with that confusion. She wasn't strong enough, but can I blame her for that?

The movie also reminded me of how much abuse the human body can take, and still keep ticking. You don't have to do much. It just fixes itself. The skin closes, the bruises fade, the bones knit. You learn to compensate for what doesn't work right any more.

The heart and mind, however, are much more fragile. Breaks sometimes never close, and you can't ignore the scars.