Grit, Grace, and Guts at the Movies

At Christmas I was given a Vue Cinema gift-card that allowed me to see two movies. My choices were The Impossible and Les Miserables. I also planned on going with a group of men for a meal out and a trip to Cineworld to view Spielberg’s Lincoln. I selected these films due to their seriousness, significance, and substance. As a history and literature student and enthusiast, nothing else really appealed to me. Here I give my take on them.

The Impossible

Starring Ewan McGregor and an Oscar-nominated Naomi Watts, this English-language Spanish disaster drama is based on the true story of a family who survived the Indian Ocean Tsunami on Boxing Day, 2004. The film does not revel or glory in the disturbing subject matter it depicts; it just tells the story. And a harsh, at times brutal story it is. The violent crash of the monster waves combines with the horror of people who know they can’t run anywhere, their gasps as they struggle to stay above the surface, their screams – either for help or to those in need of it – and their at times quite graphically depicted injuries. The desperation of the main characters as they search for their missing loved ones is keenly felt, as is their relief when they are reunited. Everything is so realistically shot, that there are times when the viewer feels swept away by the fierce currents, and it impossible not to cringe as limbs snag on objects hidden beneath the water’s surface. Our handful of protagonists fly away at the end leaving behind thousands more who were not so fortunate – and a photograph appears of the real-life Enrique and María Belón, and their sons Lucas, Simon, and Tomas. I did not think as much, as some may have, on the triumphant endurance of the human spirit, but rather on the God who gives us such endurance, and though He allows some to perish, he also saves a few.

Les Miserables

Les Mis is a sung-through film version of the musical adaption of Victor Hugo’s novel. It is, in summary, a story of the quest for law and love, justice and grace set in mid-nineteenth century post-Revolution France and told from different perspectives. It is the story of ‘the wretched of the earth’: their personal torment, their physical battles, and their dream of a world beyond the barricade of their enslaved earthly existence. Most importantly, as a final song tells us “it is the story of one who turned from hating” and learned “to love another person”. Even as he runs from his (commendably) relentless pursuer Inspector Javert (Russell Crowe), this redeemed ex-con named Jean Valjean (an Oscar-nominated Hugh Jackman) shows the life-changing love that he himself had once received to others: Fantine, a single mother and factory worker forced into prostitution and on the verge of death (another Oscar-nominated performance, this time from Anne Hathaway); her daughter Cosette (Amanda Seyfried), whom Valjean adopts; Marius, a revolutionary student in love with Cosette; and in a scene reminiscent of episodes from television’s The Fugitive, Javert himself. Although it might be noted that not all of the actors are trained singers and therefore do not have the same vocal abilities as actors in the stage production, they bring a quality of acting that delivers with tremendous effect the emotions behind the songs and the soul within the music – helped and not hindered by the close-up style in which the film is shot. Don’t ask me what my favourite song was though – I will start with one and by the time I’m finished will have named most all of them. The Impossible showed the material devastation of a Fall-cursed earth and the triumph of a few over it. In a similar way Les Mis shows the devastation of fallen humanity – “fallen from God/fallen from grace” as Javert self-righteously sings – and in addition to cross-imagery used almost from the beginning of the film, promises redemption as the movie’s dead and alive heroes join together at the movie’s stirring finale and sing:

Do you hear the people sing
Lost in the valley of the night?
It is the music of a people
Who are climbing to the light.
For the wretched of the earth
There is a flame that never dies,
Even the darkest night will end
And the sun will rise!

We will live again in freedom
In the garden of the Lord,
We will walk behind the plough-share,
We will put away the sword,
The chain will be broken
And all men will have their reward!

Will you join in our crusade?
Who will be strong and stand with me?
Somewhere beyond the barricade
Is there a world you long to see?
Do you hear the people sing
Say, do you hear the distant drums?
It is the future that they bring
When tomorrow comes!

Lincoln

This is not another sanitized “Honest Abe.” In Spielberg’s latest meticulously researched historic recreation we see a very human Lincoln (an Oscar-nominated performance by Daniel Day-Lewis). Under pressure to enter talks with Confederate peace negotiators, Lincoln battles to pass the Thirteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution and thus seal the abolition of slavery in the land. He faces a nation, government, political party, Cabinet, and personal family all at war with themselves and navigates them all with tired face, weary eyes, and his legendary wit and wisdom. By no means entirely unprejudiced, he still knows that slavery is an evil that must be ended and is prepared – for the sake of its abolition and the peace and prosperity of the nation – to get his hands dirty. In order to unite the radical and conservative factions of the Republican Party and to reach out to Democrats, compromises are made. Not least of which is the hiring of W. N. Bilbo, Richard Schell, and Robert Latham, a profane and decidedly dodgy trio who are tasked with persuading opponents of the amendment to change their votes (they do this through the then legal use of patronage, by which political offices were awarded in exchange for favours). Lincoln knows this is less than ideal (he tells General Grant, ‘Each of us has made it possible for the other to do terrible things’), but it is war-time, hundreds of thousands have already died, and people suffer in chains. When his plan to “procure” votes is questioned (again), Lincoln has had enough: “Buzzard's guts, man! I am the President of the United States of America! Clothed in immense power! You will procure me these votes.” And so they are. Slavery is abolished. The war is won.

Sally Field as Mary Todd Lincoln and Tommy Lee Jones as Congressman Thaddeus Stevens are well deserving of their Oscar-nominations but it is Day-Lewis who really does more than act his part – he brings Lincoln to life. As his wife sends word that it is time for them to leave for the theatre, a tired but triumphant Lincoln quietly turns to those around him and says, “It's time for me to go. But I would rather stay.” By this time, audiences with any heart would rather him stay too, but the camera looks down the hall as he walks away and we see him alive no more. Cinematic history telling at the top of its game.

The gore and grit of reality. The grace of God. The guts of weak, fallible humans “with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right.” These movies may not appeal to everyone, and certainly no film is flawless, but I am glad I did not give them a miss.