'Twas Beauty Killed the Beast

When I was in school, we were taught (or rather told, as I never really learned how) to find the theme of the stories we read. For example, the theme of Moby Dick is that deep-sea fishing is dangerous. (I told you I never really learned how to do it.)

I'm not sure why I had such a hard time doing that. Maybe it's because I couldn't really get into the stories we read. Maybe it's because I hadn't developed an ability to think deeply. Maybe it's because I was too naive to catch the more pessimistic ideas that are woven into the beauty of the greatest stories. Maybe it's a combination of all of these.

My favorite movie has always been WarGames. As a kid, I loved it because it was about computers, and computers were cool. As I grew older, I realized the theme of the film: it's a modern day version of Frankenstein. A man tries to cheat death by creating a being (Joshua) that can't die. But lacking an understanding of death always results in a lack of appreciation for life. Joshua has no concept of the difference between hypothetical casualties and actual human lives. In the movie's most chilling line of dialogue, Joshua is asked, "Is this a game, or is it real?" He responds, "What's the difference?"

So over the years I have come to appreciate the theme of great films. Recently I saw Syriana with some friends. I was the only one who liked it. The others said they didn't understand it. "Perhaps," they said, "it is more enjoyable if you know something about the oil business." But I don't think the movie is about the oil business at all. That's just the setting for the plot. The point of the story is that great power breeds great corruption, and when power and corruption combine, what chance does honesty have? The honest and the less powerful will either be swept up into the corruption, or they will be destroyed by it. As with WarGames, apparently "the only winning move is not to play."

And today I saw King Kong. It's a beautiful, sad movie. And the message is even sadder: innocence is destroyed by greed and cynicism; but also that human nature has all the brutality and tenderness that exists in the primitive world--we're just another side of the same coin--unfortunately, the two natures conflict with each other, and in the end, one will die.

It isn't a pleasant thought, but the greatest truths rarely are. Part of maturing is accepting them and modifying our actions accordingly. Just as another part of maturing is learning to see these truths in the first place. Whether they be in books or film. Maybe that's why I couldn't find these themes when I was in school. It requires more maturity than a fourteen-year-old has.