Went to see *Hotel Rwanda* today. IMDB:0395169.
There’s a moment in these movies, maybe after ten minutes, or maybe after half an hour, where I feel something die in me. My heart turns black, and soul is bleak. The rest of the movie washes over me, and I sit there, like a stone. My left hand clasped around Claudia’s hand, or on her knee. Eyes staring into the other world behind the screen.
When we leave, death is on my mind. My life energy has turned from blue-white to the black energy of death. It must be a hormonal reaction. The adrenalin, the stress – I’m ready for “flight or fight” as we zoologists say. If we cross some people late at night as we walk home, I have to control my breathing, as if I was doing the Aikido breathing excercies. When I don’t, images of violence fill my mind. I’m read smash heads and push people into the cars driving by. I scares me, and I hate it. Slowly, I regain possession of myself, and the violence recedes. Life comes back slowly as we walk and the cold wind blows through our winter jackets.
At home, we eat some ice-cream, Claudia reads a comic, and I type at my laptop. Time passes, and hole in my heart starts to mend. Whatever I lost in the movies grows back.
Why do I keep doing this to myself? I talked about it before. It has to do with not looking away. Like the Samaritan in the bible – eventhough I won’t be able to stop and take care of the wounded man lying in the ditch or wherever it was, I don’t want to look away. I think we all need to look death in the eye from time to time, so that when one of us rises above others into a position of power, that person will remember. When one of us is in charge, I hope that the pictures we have seen will help prevent some of the pain and suffering. I really do.
#Movies