bridge on the river kwai

I don't know why, but this film totally seized my imagination during my high school days.

Everyone else was mezmerized by Jaws or under the spell of Star Wars.

But I was drawing this bridge.

Colonel Nicholson and his bridge.

I still have all kinds of drawings and sketches dating back to the mid-seventies stashed away somewhere.

I even remember drawing it on my desk during math.

I honestly don't know why.

I was in absolute heaven when Birmingham High started lunch hour showings of classic films during tenth grade. Bridge on the River Kwai was the first they showed. I had really only seen it on our small color tv at home, with vague memories of it from the theater in the mid-sixties.

I really don't understand my fascination with it (no doubt a good counselor could help here - but then people have been saying that for years).

Watching it now, I see much more than an anti-war film with the message that war is madness; I see something parabolic and even prophetic in my own life. And I find its ironies (ironies that border on absolute absurdity) delectable. The whole film for me is truly a feast each time I view it.

Bridge on the River Kwai is based on the novel by Pierre Boulle (Bridge Over the River Kwai). I've read the rather compact and fast-paced novel several times over the years - it's ending is actually much more satisfying to me, but it would simply have never worked on the big screen.

Released in 1957, Bridge was the top-grossing film of 1958. It pulled in seven Oscars (including best picture, best director, best actor) - a record that was to stand until 1959 when Ben Hur received 11 -- a total equalled by Titanic but still unsurpassed. Another interesting tidbit: the film was first telecast as a three-hour special movie by ABC on September 25, 1966, which was rare for a network to do at the time (maybe this is when I vaguely remember first seeing it) and drew huge ratings.

I'd love you to pull up a chair and join me next Saturday, October 9th in the VineArts Studio and take in a bit of cinematic history. See a classic film and ponder some of the deeper layers and ironies of life.

Here is a bit of a peak - the one scene that I've found posted on YouTube -- one of my favorites, actually. A poignant moment of transparency between captive and captor (and just which is which anyway?)
Hope to see you at the movies on Saturday...

doubt

There are no simple truths.

At Cinegogue on Saturday, we sat together in the VineArts studio like a very large family, and watched Doubt.


Wow.

Our family watched it last year sometime. Rented it along with Faith Like Potatoes and watched them the same Saturday afternoon (the titles felt like a nice complementing fit!). I remembered being stirred by it the first time, with some discussion amongst ourselves following.

This time I was deeply impressed that every believer, every church needs to watch this film.

What an amazing film for a day like 9/11.

What a needed film for every church and family and believer – for our entire culture.

“I don’t have any facts, but I have my certainty. I know about people,” says Sister Aloysius.

As our poignant discussion following the film explored, how easy it is for us to render our snap judgments about one another. How sly, how subtle, how nearly undetectable our lenses are through which we see each other, friend and foe. How easy to be so sure, so very sure that that’s what he is about. It was interesting to hear the perspective of those who saw Sister Aloysius truly in black, and Father Flynn in white, only then to see it totally flipped through the eyes of others – which is the point and brilliance of the play and movie.

The fact is there wasn’t anyone with a white hat or a black one (in fact, everyone pretty much wore black!). And through our discussion, I realized how much both characters, each antagonist, saw only the mask they perceived on each other’s face. Sister Aloysius saw a dangerous and liberal priest, a predator borne on harmful winds of change, and that tilted everything for her. Father Flynn saw a tight-bonneted, stick-in-the-mud sister whose only purpose in life was to halt the progress of the helpful winds of change in the church and in society – and that tilted everything for him. No trust, no communication. But ultimately plenty of confrontation. The scene with Sister Aloysius clutching the crucifix like a knife – wow! How easily we go there, all of us! Politically, socially, religiously, relationally. How readily we will declare holy war, or, more likely, carry on silent vendettas. Submarine warfare seems more to our liking than the direct assault on the gates, as in dealing with wrongdoing “we take a step away from God.”

And so, who is right? Who is wrong?

The film leaves it in our lap with Sister Aloysius’ final confession becoming our own.

I was left with Paul’s words ringing in my ears:

With me it is a very small thing that I should be judged by you – or by any man’s judgment. In fact, I don’t even judge myself! For I know nothing against myself, yet that’s not what makes me innocent. It is the Lord who judges me.


Therefore, judge nothing before the time, until the Lord comes – who will both bring to light the hidden things of darkness and make manifest the counsel of men’s hearts. And then each one will have his praise from God.

No doubt.