Amour for Lent...

We don't go "out" to the movies as much as we used to ~ for good and bad reasons.  There was a time I went to a new film every Friday afternoon as part of my Sabbath.  But life changes ~ and personal perspectives, culture and technologies shift ~ so most of what we watch appears through the magic of NetFlix streaming. And that is mostly wonderful (we're semi-addicted to British mysteries, film noir and off-beat documentaries) so many late evenings are given over to some quiet, introspective time together.  Besides, as is becoming more and more true, I like small venues for movies and music ~ the buzz of the multi-plex rarely works for me any more ~ so sitting in my favorite rocker with my dear one is sweet.

But there are times when seeing a film with others in a theatre is just what the doctor ordered.  Clearly "The Life of Pi" needed to be seen on a big screen in the company of others ~ and I loved it.  Same was could be said for "Searching for Sugar Man" ~ the moving story of Rodriguez and his musical impact on South Africa ~ it needed to be shared.  I had the same reaction watching the achingly beautiful story of love in the final stages of life, "Amour" directed by Michael Haneke and starring Emmanuelle Riva, Jean-Louis Trintigant and Isabelle Huppert.  In many ways it was our deep entrance into the season of Lent. (Check out the NY Times review @ http://movies. nytimes. com/2012/12/19/ movies/ michael-hanekes-amour-with-jean-louis-trintignant.html?r=0) 

As is always the case, no matter what movie I go to see, sometime in the first five minutes I nod off for about 30 seconds.  Same thing happens at classical music concerts, too.  In the quiet, shared darkness my tiredness catches up to me and... I discover I am asleep for a brief, unplanned power nap before returning ready to re-enter the story more fully engaged. This film, like others by this director, is an act of contemplation ~ the best definition of which is "taking a long, loving look at what is real."  In "Cache" Haneke looks at contemporary culture and notices how "civilization and barbarism are not antithetical." My sense is that he is not cruel in this observation, just unsentimental, as he observed the complicated ways real human beings make sense out of their broken lives. Often it is not pretty ~ and there is nothing sentimental about "Amour."  As one critic concluded:  this is what Nicholas Sparks' "The Notebook" could have been... and wasn't.  It is hard.  It is trying.  It is an ever-shrinking world of bad or worse choices alongside small acts of mercy and humility.

Contemplation ~ attentiveness ~ is an important aspect of Lent, yes?  Gregory Spencer writes, in Awakening the Quieter Virtues that:

When eradication includes stepping away from common involvements ~ what we traditionally call fasting or abstinence ~ we discover that "doing without" actually gives us more. Avoid shopping malls for a few months and you might be shocked at the garish consumerism when you return. Refrain from cynical acquaintances for a time and you might notice destructive talk when you reenter their world.  When cultivation develops single-mindedness, we may observe certain good things more frequently: the loving actions of a cashier or the generous enthusiasm of a teenager. A painting, a psychological theory or a software program might seem rich with the image of God.  As we practice the stewardship of the present, we learn to love what God loves, to notice life as the real thing it is, to choose life with all our hearts.

Sitting in the darkened theatre with others watching this carefully told story of human love that is simultaneously sacrificial and selfish, I wondered how others would integrate this act of contemplation into their lives.  We were all touched ~ moved out of our ordinary awareness and into an appreciation for the power of a "love that will lay itself down for another" ~ but what then?  Given our collective loss of shared metanarratives, what does this exercise in cinematic contemplation mean?  Where does it lead us?  How do we practice integrating its tender strength into our busy lives?  Is being awakened for a fleeting moment enough?

For me it called to mind the words of St. Paul in Philippians 4:  Sisters and brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable ~ if anything is excellent or praise-worthy~ think about such things.  I would add:  whatever is real ~ think and look upon whatever is real with love ~ look upon it for a long time, too so that it touches you and calls you deeper.