Last night I saw “Precious” and I immediately felt the need to write about it and share my thoughts with others. I’m still debating on whether to use this space for movie reviews. I enjoy writing reviews almost as much as I enjoy watching the movies themselves. No, that’s not true. Anyway, some things happened to me during the movie last night, so here goes.
I experienced extreme discomfort throughout the movie, as if I was watching secrets that are not supposed to be seen by strange eyes. I squirmed in my seat and stayed with this feeling of discomfort, trying to pinpoint exactly what was happening within me. As the movie progressed I was able to see the underlying emotion for what it really was: Guilt.
Now I’m saying to myself (while watching the movie mind you) “Why in the world are you feeling guilty? YOU aint do nothing!” As the travesties unfolded on the screen and the story progressed, the guilt only increased to the point where I was forced to examine what in the world was going on with me.
Please understand, I am not a squeamish person. I’ll watch the most gruesome acts of violence or hatred on tv film and be not at all affected. So kudos to the filmmakers, actors and director of this film to create an environment where an emotional experience can be had. Furthermore, I run across these types of events and tragic incidents on a consistent basis in my line of work, therefore my emotional reaction had little to do with the shock value of the situations presented in the movie. No, this feeling I had was more personal. It was something about ME that was touched in this film, and I couldn’t figure out what it was.
Somewhere towards the end of the movie, Precious was taking a simple walk down the street, among the general public. And that’s when the source of my uncomfort and guilt hit me. No I’m not a rapist or abuser or neglector. But this “story” I’m watching is happening out in the world everyday. I lay my sweet head on a pillow at night and am safe, have always been safe, and am closed off from any other reality. And while I eat my dinner, or play my life games, or watch my television, there are children being abused…neglected..mistreated. There’s a slight feeling of guilt within the recognition of my blessings. That am I not worthy to be the one to have so much.
So I’m reminded to be even more thankful. To dance more. To appreciate more. To love more. To help more. To attend to others more. Because I probably pass at least two Precious girls and boys on the street everyday, just going through their life. It may be my smile, my helpful hand, my kind words..I may be the one that’s able to shine the light out of their darkness…
This little light of mine….