Thinking Movies

I generally don't talk about very personal things in my blog.

For starters, it makes me very uncomfortable to tell personal things to anyone, even my own family. No less, divulge the privileged for anyone to read.

Sometimes though, I will admit, it is a good idea to let some things go instead of letting them stew within your own mind.

This evening, my father and I went to see Slumdog Millionaire at the venerable Cinema Arts in Fairfax, VA.

I thought the movie was a little over-hyped after the Academy Awards, but nonetheless, it was very good and well worth the price of a ticket.

If you have seen the movie, the main setting is no secret, but if you haven't -- the film is set (maybe this is obvious) in the slums of Mumbai (Bombay).

I thought little of it. But as I was leaving the theater I noticed that my Dad was being unusually silent.

Not that my father is ever particularly loud, but he was being particularly quiet.

As a point of understanding I should note the relationship my father and I generally share and the prevailing unusual circumstances. For the most part, my Dad and I act more like good friends than father son. I'm not saying there is any loss of love, but we do not have a very informative relationship. Speaking generally, less is more and no news is good news. This is perhaps more a sign of our introverted natures than anything else, but in any case, emotional feelings are not something we typically share.

This week though, my grandfather (my Dad's father) developed a horrible blood clot in an artery in his leg. Thankfully, he is in stable condition and his leg tissue is still alive, but it seems he will never walk the same again. While I had not noticed any prior signs of it weighing on my dad, it showed tonight.

When in the car on the ride home, my Dad said that he thought it was good but it made him uncomfortable. When I asked why, he said that he got flashbacks of the desert. He said that when he was in the Middle East he saw some atrocious living conditions, things which the sight of the movies slums brought back to him. It was interesting, as it was the first time in 6 years my Dad had talked about anything from his time in Iraq.

I still have never asked about what he did, apart from where he was, the classified version of which he has never been able to tell.

In any case, I thought it was very unusual that it was a movie that gave my Dad an opportunity to open up to me (even in a little way). The power of art perhaps..