numinous & epistemological

DAYS OF HEAVEN
1978, directed by Terrence Malick

I have always thought of Terrence Malick as a fascinating film-maker after watching the languid and lyrical The Thin Red Line (1998), a movie that was both praised and disliked for its meditative treatment of an ugly subject like war. When I got the chance to view Days of Heaven the other day, I became an instant fan. His films are perfect specimens of exquisite beauty, they are oftentimes lyrical in tone, vast in scope, yet if anything are strangely personal in approach. The beautifully photographed Days of Heaven is something that still enthralls after 30 years. Nestor Almendros, Cuban-born cinematographer, however was the real auteur in this piece; his sweeping and arresting scenes that were simply breathtaking won the well-deserved Academy award for Best Cinematography that year. From the opening montage of sepia shots (to the music of Saint-Saens' Carnival) to the closing credits, it was photography at its finest. Ennio Morricone's music was both lush and orchestral but never obstrusive.

It is a story of an unnamed farmer (Sam Shepard) who falls in love with Abby (Brooke Adams), the girlfriend of a wheat field worker Bill (Richard Gere). Abby and Bill pretend to be siblings to avoid questions about their unmarried state. The discovery of the real nature of their relationship triggered a series of unfortunate events that eventually led to murder.

FINDING JOY IN YOUR LIFE
The Bucket List (2007), directed by Rob Reiner

It was a Sunday afternoon and there wasn’t a cloud on the sky. It’s difficult to understand the sum of a person’s life. Some people will tell you it is measured by the ones left behind. Some believe it can be measured in faith. Some say by love. Other folks say life has no meaning at all. I believe that you measure yourself by the people who measure themselves by you. What I can tell you for sure is that by any measure Edward Cole lived most of his days on earth than most people managed to wring out of a lifetime. I know that when he died his eyes were closed but his heart was open…

Relates the unseen narrator at the beginning of The Bucket List, a movie directed by Rob Reiner and starring two of the most iconic actors in American cinema, Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman, both 70 years old. It has recently been shown in local theaters to some enthusiastic response enough to merit a 2-week extension at a time when most character-driven dramas are consigned to short lifespans in favor of the testosterone-ridden and technology-savvy escapist fares that Hollywood has been churning out to the delight of the thrilled Filipino cineastes.

To say that The Bucket List is not exactly escapist negates the premise of the piece. Part-TV movie in the vein of Tuesdays With Morrie, part-medical dramedy, it offers an unflinching melodramatic view of how people with cancer cope with the bleak landscape that the disease puts them through. Freeman is mechanic Carter Chambers, a Jeopardy! whiz and devoted family man, husband to Virginia (Beverly Todd), who dreamed of becoming a professor in his youth but had to forego of his dreams when he became “broke, black and with a baby on the way.” Nicholson is self-made billionaire hospital magnate Edward Cole, an eccentric loner, boss to Matthew (Sean Hayes), four times divorced and estranged to his only daughter who disowned him after he scared off her abusive husband.

Cole made money operating profit-driven hospitals with innovative cost-cutting moves like a two-beds-to-a-room policy. Because of his idea, he finds himself sharing a room with blue-collared Chambers, much to his dismay but is told by Matthew that this would create a PR nightmare. Both are diagnosed to have terminal cancer. In between wrangling and chemotherapy-induced nausea and vomiting, the truculent billionaire and the unflustered mechanic develop initially a tentative peaceful co-existence that later blossomed into true friendship.

Carter writes his “bucket list,” an inventory of the things he dreamed of doing before “kicking the bucket.” When Cole discovers this, he makes a proposal to use his fortune at making the list possible. Carter agreed despite some indignant protests from Virginia.

The pair then embarks on a round-the-world trip that found them skydiving (the funniest scene in the movie), driving a Mustang Shelby on a NASCAR track, getting a tattoo, meditating on friendship atop the Pyramids, riding motorcycles on China’s Great Wall, ruminating on death while hunting lions in Africa, pondering on reincarnation on a visit to the Himalayas, and even discussing the convenience of cremation while taking the steps of Taj Mahal. Even enjoying black walnut ice cream in Hong Kong. Each one learns something about ambition and acceptance, faith and family, skepticism and sincerity from the other. At the end of the journey, both men discover what makes them human.

Along the way, they get to ask questions like “Have you found joy in your life?” and “Has you life brought joy to others?” The movie, part road trip, part travelogue, resonates with the theme of finding joy in one’s life despite the tough deal that the world has put one into.

Carter returns a loving man to Virginia and starts to reconnect with his family. As an act of gratitude, he tries to reunite Cole with his daughter with disastrous results because of Cole’s lack of courage to face his personal demons. Soon after, Carter relapses and is brought to the hospital. He asks Cole to complete the bucket list without him as he is up for surgery. But the operation is unsuccessful and the next scene shows Cole delivering a eulogy at his friend’s funeral. He finally summons enough strength to make peace with his daughter and is blessed with the kiss of a granddaughter he never knew.

The film is a moderate hit in the US when it was released. It opened to lukewarm reviews because most US critics thought it was too sentimental for comfort or too uninspired to waste the talents of the two lead actors, considered among the greatest in the movies today. But my friends who got to watch the movie enjoyed it thoroughly when it was shown here in the country. People I know whose lives were touched by cancer swear to the authenticity of the scenes like the myriad effects of mere diagnosis on personal lives especially those of the loved ones, the various emotions patients manifest after having been told of the diagnosis and the prognosis, the severity of treatment side-effects, and the sometimes coldhearted handling of doctors of the situation. In one scene, Doc Hollins (Rob Morrow) is nonchalantly enumerating in the most distant tone of voice the results of tests to Carter, who was watching his favorite TV show, before telling him he has only months-to-a-year to live “if we’re lucky.” Carter’s response is nothing short of golden, honest, terse, but does work on several levels: “You’re blocking my view, Doctor.”

It is a film that truly tugs at the heartstrings despite some overdose of sentimentality in Justin Zackman’s script. It is an absorbing primer on facing one’s own mortality. Marc Shaiman’s music is oftentimes mushy but still manages to sustain the dramatic moments. John Schwartzmann’s excellent photography of this part-travelogue of a movie captured the beauty of the various locales. The safari and the pyramids shots were simply breathtaking. But the real gem of the movie is the strong chemistry between the two actors that make their characters both believable and likable. Nicholson and Freeman, together in one frame, that alone is a joy.

The narrator, the Morgan Freeman character we discover in the course of the film, delivers the epilogue: Our lives are streams flowing into the same river towards where heaven lies in the mist beyond the falls. Find the joy in your life.