Fathers and Sons

(Of course the compulsory spoiler warning is required and yes there will be spoilers in this post so you are so warned)

When Nick first suggested we copy this exercise from the New York Times, I racked my brain thinking of what scene I would write about. So many scenes are memorable from so many movies released last year. Naturally my first inclination was to pick a scene from my favorite movie of the year: No Country For Old Men. But which one? I actually chose one and wrote up a post on it. It was the scene when Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem) confronts Carla Jean Moss (Kelly Macdonald) near the end of the movie.

But the more I thought about it, the more unsatisfied I was. Not with that scene which is incredibly well done. No, it was that it just didn't quite fit with the spirit of the exercise (or what I see as the spirit of it). If I were to pick a single scene of anything I saw this year I would choose Antonius Block (Max von Sydow) expressing his crisis of faith in Ingmar Bergman's Seventh Seal. A movie I only saw for the first time in 2007.

And that would certainly be fitting for a year that saw the death of that great auteur. But truth be told I felt I sufficiently poured out my soul on that scene in my review (Seventh Seal). Besides this should be about films that were new. Films that inspire the kind of reaction that Seventh Seal did in me. Certainly the Coens' No Country For Old Men is an instant classic in film history and the scene with Carla Jean is damn good but when it I really think about it only one scene moved me as much as the scene in Seventh Seal.

I was only a little shocked that my reflection led me to Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Julian Schnabel. Its overall effort didn't impress me that much but there were a pair of scenes that I've thought about almost everyday since seeing it. And to me that's the spirit of this exercise. A scene you keep rolling over in your head and one you want to discuss with people. A scene that makes you reflect on life, love, happiness and all the other seemingly cliched notions of reflection.

I'm not sure what to think of the fact that the two scenes that resonate the most with me both involved the ever brilliant Max von Sydow. And perhaps part of the brilliance of both scenes is that they are in foreign languages (Swedish and French respectively) and require that much more acting than one in English might. Or maybe they just parallel thoughts I've had so closely that I feel some intimate connection.

Fathers and sons are a common trope to address in a narrative and this year certainly offered many takes on that trope. There Will Be Blood was intimately connected to Daniel Plainview's (Daniel Day Lewis) relationship with his adopted son H.W. (Dillon Freasier). No Country For Old Men opened with Ed Tom Bell's (Tommy Lee Jones) voice over that mentions his father and closes with a powerful description of a dream about his father. But the father and son scene I want to talk about is from The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.

To discuss the scene I have in mind, I feel some setup is required and I must stress again that spoilers will be involved. Jean Dominique Bauby (Matthieu Almaric) has suffered a stroke and now has "locked in" syndrome. A condition which leaves a person with their full mental capacities but almost completely paralyzed. Bauby with the help of a speech pathologist learns an elaborate way of communicating which makes use of an alphabet arranged by frequency of use and the blinking of his left eye (the one thing he could move).

An early scene shows Bauby remembering the last time he saw his father. This scene shows us a fantastically real and realized relationship between a father and son which is not entirely whitewashed (Note the father's disapproval of his son leaving his wife for his mistress) and sets up an important point. The aging father who loves his son has trouble communicating these days. He loses track of his thoughts too easily.

Someone might think I'm cheating and describing two scenes but I find it absolutely impossible to separate the two. Without the early scene, the latter scene is simply not possible. Once Bauby has mastered the communication method, he can receive phone calls. With an assistant, he can hear questions and dictate responses to someone who can communicate them to the caller. You can imagine how complicated and difficult this would be for any caller. But now throw in an aging father who has trouble remembering his thoughts.

Papinou (Sydow) calls and after the procedure of communication is re-explained to him, the conversation begins. At first the tone is lighter. Papinou jokes about how both are trapped (he in his apartment because of age, Bauby in his own body). His questions are answered slowly and Papinou can't remember all the things he wanted to say and ask. It is also slowly clear that despite understanding his son can't talk, he didn't really understand that he wouldn't hear his son's voice. Slowly, Papinou breaks down. (Take special note of Almaric's response which must be conveyed solely with his eye - damn, I say, damn.)

How can Papinou connect with a son he can't see, touch or hear? Is he in a sense already dead? Morbid thoughts to be sure but undeniably floating around this scene. Papinou's tears as he confesses he can't communicate like this are heartbreaking. His thoughts are too cluttered and the loss of connection and the requirement of a third party are too much. His quick goodbye and hang up are just soul crushing.

I was tearful when this scene ended. Probably as close to full on bawling I've been in a long time. And you know what I'm not in the least bit ashamed to admit that. But what made me choose this scene and what makes it resonate? This scene speaks to me more than any other. As I've said I've thought about this scene probably once a day. So I've thought a lot about why this scene sticks with me. And its about fathers and sons.

This scene makes me think about my father. No, I wouldn't say our relationship is at all like Bauby and Papinou. I'd like to think we have a good relationship but if it was our relationship on screen I guess there would be a bit more good natured ribbing. There's also a good chance we'd both be drinking a beer or some Jameson's. My point being (I am getting to one) is that a really well done scene will make you reflect on your life (or so I think).

And a really powerful depiction of father and son such as this one had me reflecting on my own relationship with my father. What important aspect of human relationships doesn't this scene have? We see fatherly love in Papinou. We see his anxiety and his attempts to hold onto what is already fading. There is the question of mortality and the importance of every moment. Now Bauby's last memory with his dad was not one of regret (it's actually quite touching) but there is the very present reality that it is the last memory. No more laughs or sorrows can occur. And as memory fades it might be all that remains.

So yeah a scene like this makes me think about my dad. Not because he's ill (God forbid) and not because I have regrets. But because an on screen tragedy can remind you and cause you to reflect on how you're scene might go. A scene like this would inspire me to reconcile with my father if we were on the outs. It makes me want to talk to him more often (and I think we already talk quite frequently).

I just want to keep the positive memories flowing. I don't fully understand my own father's relationship with his father (I assume it was good but that is for him to share when, if and to whom he chooses of his own volition) but I always want my own relationship to be solid. Scenes like this remind you of what you have (or I suppose of what you don't).

Now I've gushed enough and I presume most of this has been an incoherent ramble. And I stand by this scene and its power and damn if I don't want to watch it again. Hell, I want to watch it with my father. And that is exactly what a truly powerful scene should do.