Couldn’t/shouldn’t these words be ours?:
I know everything I can for today… There’s still so much that I don’t know. But I do know this… I think I’m here just to be alive. To see it. Hear it. Feel it. All of it. Even when it hurts. Someday you’ll tell me why else I’m here. I don’t know when. But you will. I know that. Because… Father, I am your child.
[abridged transcript; unabridged in appendix]
I’ve been characterized (fairly) as resigned and cynical. But I resist the label “pessimist.” I have unlimited optimism for today’s youth. I have no bleak view of “kids today,” buried in their phones, raised by dysfunctional parents in a dysfunctional world, etc. In our age of pandemic, wildfires, hurricanes, global warming (and ignorant denial), pollution, fossil fuel depletion, shrinking social security funds, wars and terrorism, divisive politics,…
Our species has pulled together in past times of crisis, and there is no reason that today’s youth cannot wildly exceed our imaginations and solve world problems we haven’t even fathomed yet. We old farts sometimes simply lack the “eyes to see…” So, farther below, I share one snapshot that fuels my optimism. But first,…
The transcript above is from my new favorite movie: “The Young Messiah” (2016. 1h51m. PG-13).
The Roman centurion Severus (played by Sean Bean [Eddard Stark in Game of Thrones, and Borimir in Lord of the Rings, the only member of the Fellowship of the Ring who succumbed to its temptation]) is confronted with deciding the fate of 7-year-old Jesus, though under orders from Herod to kill him. Also starring David John Bradley (Argus Filch in Harry Potter, Walder Frey in Game of Thrones).
I made this clip (https://youtu.be/xOU3eqDzto8) with my phone off Netflix (9/2020) because, sadly, I can’t find this 2-minute closing scene online. Here’s the preceding scene: (throughout the movie, his mother Mary struggles to keep his origin from him, until she finally can’t, in this, the penultimate scene of the movie):
REVIEW OF THE FINAL SCENE IN ISOLATION
Below is a review of my clip, the final two-minute scene, by a person who loves the whole art form of cinematic movies, AND who had not seen any other part of the movie! I’m not sharing it to promote the movie, but instead, as an example of a person who lives from their soul, and has surprising wisdom beyond their years, by my admittedly biased thinking.
“That’s some good writing because the last line is cliché, but the lines leading up to it just list the basics of life which makes us feel comfortable in being whatever we ended up being in life. It also couples a little bit of reassurance about our many insecurites, like when we get that feeling that we ‘know’ something is about to happen. It’s relatable, therefore we connect with it, therefore we feel that character is describing our thoughts himself or herself.
“Plus there’s a dramatic realization which we dig because it involves something new we discover about ourselves, just like that feeling of awestruck we get when we realize something about ourselves through an outside look in, on our lives and the way we have been living; actions, thoughts on their own, and thought processes, which are all connected. Also one of the many reasons I love movies.
“That’s my take. Just one of many perspectives tho🤷♂️.”
A comment made (by me) on that review:
“It was just a two minute clip. There’s a whole movie that wraps around it.”
And the reviewer’s response to my comment:
“Ah yes, however a lot of creative juices went into that [2-minute closing scene; remember, this writer hadn’t seen any other part of the movie]. Movies take years to make, and in most cases, the majority of that time is spent on the script. A movie can be 1 hour and 10 minutes to 5 hours. Either way the ratio is year(s):5 hours.
“Every moment created is scalped out and put together in a way that filmmakers thought would make a masterpiece of a lifetime. People were drained emotionally at the end of every day making it. Which by the way, happens at almost every job, not just for people who make movies, “emotional drainage variable” (oh god this is starting to sound like an infomercial).
“Main point: Adore every moment you can. Lives were poured into it.
“(Side note: I’m not saying this is different than any other job, I’m sure that every quality employee does their job in the best way they thought possible).”
This unsolicited review was written on what would have been my oldest sister’s 54th birthday, by a 17-year-old young man at a public high school in Plum, PA, about 20 miles outside of Pittsburgh. I’m frankly stunned by the insights about life in general, in this review of a short clip. To that young reviewer, who has been through considerable life-changes in the last couple years, I’d like to ascribe the words of the 7-year-old Jesus; again, “I know everything I can for today… There’s still so much that I don’t know. But I do know this…
I think I’m here just to be alive. To see it. Hear it. Feel it. All of it. Even when it hurts.
Someday [Dad] you’ll tell me why else I’m here. I don’t know when. But you will. I know that. Because… Father, I am your child.” And I am his biological father.
[unabridged transcript of closing scene]
“I know everything I can for today. I even know I am going to die. I used to wonder if angels would come to me. If they would sing to me. If they would fill my dreams. There’s still so much that I don’t know. But I do know this. I don’t think I’m here to see angels. Or to hear them saying. And I don’t think I’m here to make it rainy or sunny. Or anything like that. I think I’m here just to be alive To see it. Hear it. Feel it. All of it. Even when it hurts. Someday you’ll tell me why else I’m here. I don’t know when. But you will. I know that. Because… Father, I am your child.”
Related: Aching To Know (“We ache to know our own unknowable value.”)