The arts have long—perhaps always—been a platform for expressing often dissenting opinion on social
norms of the time. No doubt when the first ancient Greek or Roman sculptor
chiseled a statue that did not represent the ideal human body of the time,
mainstream society expressed its disapproval by smashing the work to pieces and
throwing the offending artist to the lions. Meanwhile, those segments of
society who themselves did not represent the ideal form celebrated their martyr
and vowed to continue the rebellion in the name of equality and freedom of
self-expression.
Even Jesus,
that master storyteller, conveyed his teachings in the form of parables which
only those who had “…ears to hear…” could comprehend (Mark 4:9). Medieval and
Renaissance paintings often expressed commentary through satire, veiling
political and religious statements with color and form and imagery, and
sometimes even humor. Many 18th century nursery rhymes we learned as
children are actually criticisms of the royalty and ruling classes. For
example, “There was an old woman who lived in a shoe…” refers to England and
the way she ruled her colonies (http://englishhistoryauthors.blogspot.com/2012/04/political-meaning-in-18th-century.html).
Commonly known works of fiction such as Uncle
Tom’s Cabin, Animal Farm, and To Kill a Mockingbird offered social
commentary in the form of novels.
Cinema, too,
is a work of art. So it should come as no surprise that people who create
cinema—the screenplay writers, the producers and directors, the actors who
bring the stories to life—often use their craft as a vehicle for expressing
their concern on those issues that are important to them. Civil rights, climate
change, equality for women and sexual minorities, domestic violence, the
immense social and spiritual costs of war, access to quality healthcare, and
other compelling issues of our time are present in the stories told through
cinema. Why, then, should people act surprised or even offended when these artists
comment on the views expressed in their own creations?
People who
are disturbed or irritated by the social truths expressed in film and other
contemporary works of art are usually those who deny the truth. It makes them
uncomfortable; it upsets their status quo; it threatens their social position
or power. Or perhaps it is because they themselves have lived that truth but
are not yet ready to confront it because their wounds have not yet healed.
Going there is a journey back to a place of hurt, and they aren’t ready to
revisit that which caused them harm.
In any case, the very fact that a
social issue raised by a film or by one of its makers or actors causes someone
to feel disturbed is evidence that that person needs to confront that issue. If
we feel uncomfortable with the film Straight
Outta Compton, then perhaps it is because we still carry a spark of racism
in our hearts. If The Danish Girl
makes us squirm, maybe it’s because we haven’t reconciled our minds to the fact
that some people’s gender and physiology don’t match up. If we were irritated
by Carol, it’s probably because we’re
homophobic to some degree. If we didn’t like the strong female characters of Mad Max: Fury Road, could it be because
we harbor sexism?
The list goes on: An Inconvenient Truth angered climate
change deniers; Brokeback Mountain
offended opponents of gay rights; The
Passion of the Christ managed to rile up both devout Christians and
atheists. The point to remember is this: You don’t have to agree with the
message of a film or with the message of the filmmakers to think critically about
a topic presented in the film. All art is meant to make us think about
something. Even when we go to the movies for pure entertainment, we think about
what we see and hear in those films. The 2016 winner for best animated film, Inside Out, made us think about how we
process our emotions, and how important it is to embrace both the negative and
the positive feelings we all have as human beings. I love the Star Trek films,
television shows, and novels because not only do they offer good
science-fiction adventure, but also their various human and alien characters
and the worlds they inhabit make me relate their experiences to those of real
life people and places. When I think of people whose lives are different from
my own, whose stories are not like mine, I come to understand them a bit
better. Saint Francis of Assisi prayed, “O divine Master, grant that I may not
so much seek…To be understood as to understand…” I’m grateful to filmmakers,
authors, painters, photographers, and other artists who help me understand
those who are different from me. I may not always agree with the message they
state, but the dissonance I feel can broaden my mind—and thus my heart—to be more
inclusive, compassionate, and understanding. And doesn’t anything that helps us
become more of these things bring us closer to the heart of God?
