Le Chiavi di Casa
Fantasizing about more children (again) seems to be a theme for me these days, and as I believe I have said before, there is nothing sexier than good fathering in action. Even the hint of parenting skills are enough to melt even the iciest of hearts (not that I have this problem... in fact quite the opposite, I think I can be accused of a sanguine temperament). And of course the other is a tendency to select films that are both extremely beautiful, and at the same time, terribly painful to see. Maybe I have been seeking the two things together, and maybe a shrink could help me figure this out and resolve it. Oh, wait, I think I know exactly what it is about, but it is not up for public debate...
This film, directed by Gianni Amelio, moved slowly, and infuriated one (read: me) with the father's utter lack of a clue (leaving severely handicapped child unattended in a public arena), but ultimately, was truly satisfying because it was unafraid to demonstrate a profound sense of male affection, fatherly affection for an imperfect boy-child, without falling into stereotypes about bravado or pride; crafting characters that were absolutely robust, complex, lost inside their inner universe of pain. The acting was phenomenal and the illumination, the glimpse into a moment in the life of a child with "special needs", was more than sobering. If, as a parent, one feels that they have (at least in part) lost their identity in lieu of their child's burgeoning one, I can only imagine how impossible, how shattering it must be to have a child that isn't self-sufficient - ever.
I shan't recount the details of the plot, as it is not a film about action, but rather a study in character development. It is a story that parts from a grain of sand exploding into a desert of emotion. And, while some might find the open ending a frustration, I found it to be metaphorical for all that the job of truly being a father implies: unconditional love tempered by the exasperation of knowing that one can never really change the inevitable outcome of their child's life. And of course, it was also so much more than that.
(Note: I say all this while I. lays next to me frustrated, practicing writing her letters - homework - "why do I have to do it all now? Oh yeah, oh yeah, because it is important... If I do this page can I go back out and play?")
This film, directed by Gianni Amelio, moved slowly, and infuriated one (read: me) with the father's utter lack of a clue (leaving severely handicapped child unattended in a public arena), but ultimately, was truly satisfying because it was unafraid to demonstrate a profound sense of male affection, fatherly affection for an imperfect boy-child, without falling into stereotypes about bravado or pride; crafting characters that were absolutely robust, complex, lost inside their inner universe of pain. The acting was phenomenal and the illumination, the glimpse into a moment in the life of a child with "special needs", was more than sobering. If, as a parent, one feels that they have (at least in part) lost their identity in lieu of their child's burgeoning one, I can only imagine how impossible, how shattering it must be to have a child that isn't self-sufficient - ever.
I shan't recount the details of the plot, as it is not a film about action, but rather a study in character development. It is a story that parts from a grain of sand exploding into a desert of emotion. And, while some might find the open ending a frustration, I found it to be metaphorical for all that the job of truly being a father implies: unconditional love tempered by the exasperation of knowing that one can never really change the inevitable outcome of their child's life. And of course, it was also so much more than that.
(Note: I say all this while I. lays next to me frustrated, practicing writing her letters - homework - "why do I have to do it all now? Oh yeah, oh yeah, because it is important... If I do this page can I go back out and play?")
posted by ilana at 5:48 p.m.
2 Comments:
Por el primer párrafo confundí "chiavi" (llaves) con "chavos" (niños). Supongo que de algún modo se relacionan pues los primeros "son la alegría del hogar" y las segundas nos alegran cuando las encontramos después de horas de búsqueda.
Ja ja... los chavos de casa son los que se extravían con más frecuencia diría yo. Porque en mi caso no pierdo las llaves, sólo las dejo pegadas, encerradas en el coche. (hay momentos en los cuales tenemos que aceptar nuestra mente poco brillante).
Saludos (que parece que todo mundo está de huelga de amores no anunciada y btw... when are you going to fix your comments??? Seguimos riéndonos pero nos has quitado la posibilidad de compartir los disparates subsiguientes;)
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