It's been ten days or so since I watched David Fincher's recently released film The Curious Case of Benjamin Button For those who don't know, the film is about a man who is born physically old, yet has an infant mentality. As Benjamin grows older chronologically and mentally, his body ages backwards. Benjamin falls in love with Daisy, and the film focuses on their relationship throughout the years of their very different lives. The film, loosely adapted from the F. Scott Fitzgerald short story of the same name, is very good and has some remarkable things working in its favor. The film is beautifully shot, and the technology used to make Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett look younger and older than their current selves is stunning. I can see why the film needed such a large budget for the effects, and it is, in my opinion, the front runner for the visual effects and possibly makeup Oscars.
I will now proceed to discuss some of the thematic elements of the film. I will try to not include any spoilers, but if you are planning on seeing the film and want to do so without any of my ideas influencing your viewing experience, then I suggest you do not read the next three paragraphs.
BEGIN SPOILER ALERT!
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button left me with a terrible melancholy. It seriously bummed me out for the rest of the day, and I still can't think about the film without a faint reminder of that melancholy. That melancholy doesn't mean that I didn't enjoy the film or that I wasn't moved by it; if anything, it shows just how strongly it moved me. It's emotional effect was to make me sad. Benjamin and Daisy's relationship reminds me, in a way, of Romeo and Juliet. They are definitely star-crossed lovers, and their relationship is fated for tragedy. Everything I have seen in life tells me that one of the greatest joys and possibly the primary consolation in the face of old age is the opportunity to age beside someone you love, to see your lives continually grow together until you are one united entity. Due to the unusual circumstances of his birth, Benjamin knows that he will never enjoy that consolation. When he and Daisy finally come together and meet in the middle, as they say, they enjoy tremendous happiness that cannot, unfortunately, last forever. Benjamin knows what will happen as he continues to get younger and Daisy gets older, and the realization that he will end up an infant totally dependent on someone else drives him away from his love. He will not have himself become a burden to Daisy or their daughter, and he abandons his family. At this point, the inevitable tragedy of their relationship was almost too much for me to take. Sure, it may have been somewhat manipulative filmmaking, but I wept as his daughter read all the postcards he sent as she was growing up. The expressions of pain and sorrow were too much for me. I couldn't imagine having to make such a decision. Talk about tragedy.
I came away from the film with the following as the overall theme: live life gratefully and with love, even in the face of inevitable loss and tragedy. That is what Benjamin and Daisy do; they love in the face of inevitable loss. I was grateful while watching the film that I believe in continued relationships after death, and having the faith that when I do find that kind of love I will not have to deal with that inevitable loss and separation. It left me extremely grateful because I doubt I could handle that pain and heartache as Benjamin.
Therein lies one of my biggest qualms with the film. It glosses over the final years of Benjamin's life as he becomes an adolescent, then a child, and then an infant. I wanted to know while he was still cognizant of his past just how he felt. This could have, of course, made the melancholy all the stronger and overpowering, but I wanted to get deeper into his thoughts and feelings. The film suffers by not exploring his psychology more, in my opinion. Still, it is a beautiful film. I'm not sure where I would put in the Best Films of 2008, but it will most likely be a Top 5 film. I think it could have been something more. Instead of leaving me melancholic, it could have gone deeper into the characters' psychology and been more cathartic in the process.
END SPOILER ALERT!
Justin and I discussed the film after we had both seen it. He and his wife both chose it as their favorite film of the year. I told him that it left me terribly melancholic, and he responded that it had a different effect on him. He said it made him extremely grateful for his wife and everyday that they have together. So instead of emphasizing the pain of Benjamin and Daisy's inevitable loss, the film helped them focus on what is truly important: their relationship. The film's theme that every day matters struck them both more strongly than it did me. I told Justin it was probably because the film helped me be even more acutely aware of my loneliness than I was before. I could empathize more with the loneliness of Benjamin and Daisy than I could the joy. Not that I am "terribly, terribly alone" (Michael Scott), but I do lack the higher level of companionship one finds in a romantic relationship. I am plenty aware of this as it is - I don't really need a film to emphasize that for me. It's very likely that the film's melancholic effect was at least partially due to my bachelorhood, but regardless of one's relationship status, I think the film is still very tragic.
Melancholy is an interesting emotion. Sometimes it strikes me pretty forcefully. I think it's natural to seek a companion, and we feel incomplete without that higher companionship. We all seek it at some point in our lives, and for all of my seeking, there have been a lot of squandered opportunities. I frequently fail to step outside my comfort zone, to overcome my natural timidity. It can be quite frustrating to be pretty outgoing with people I know well and then struggle to engage people I don't know very well in interesting conversation. This is my great Catch-22: I only really connect with people through meaningful conversation, yet I struggle to even initiate basic conversation with unfamiliar people, even someone I might be "interested" in. It bothers me to no end, and I am constantly resolving to overcome it. For the time being, the struggle continues.
I've noticed that melancholy has another interesting effect on me: I only seem capable of writing poetry when under the influence of melancholy. I've yet to really be pleased with any happy poetry I've written. When I am feeling my normal sense of contentment and well-being or when my happiness is above-average, I just don't feel the need to be poetic. I can and do write other stuff, just not poetry. Maybe this will change sometime in the future. I guess I'll share some of my melancholic poetry, just for the heck of it. These poems were written as much as a couple years ago to less than one year ago. They were usually motivated out of some specific experience or failed opportunity, but that is all I will reveal about the autobiography behind these poems. They are short so don't be afraid you'll have to read a Homeric epic or something. I've yet to give them real titles, other than a letter and a number, a sort of code that unmistakably identifies these poems in my autobiography, but I will merely number them as I randomly arrange the poems. Enjoy, or don't.
1At least my melancholy is short winded, right? Right? In the immortal words of Gob Bluth, "Come on!"
I only have eyelids for you,
the beautiful nothing that I yearn to view;
but the light always returns,
a prodigal sun, and with it love burns.
A smoking wisp of life now gone;
rest in peace, my dear, for I loved you 'til dawn.
2 (here comes a haiku!)
I've been here before
empty opportunities
slip through my fingers
3
a stray hair hung over your face
and I wanted to push it away
but you did it yourself
before I even had a chance
4
In my dream you rested
your head on my shoulder.
I awoke colder
(and older)
and realized you were only
in my head as I lay in bed,
dreaming with open eyes
my dream of lies.
5 (another haiku)
Strokes of pen and brush
are not worthy to describe
your beautiful face.
6
you inspire me to write
tepid high school poetry -
aren't you the lucky one?
7
An eternity of poetry won't change a thing.
With this limbo of words and phrases
I pen my purgatory.
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