Skip to main content

A Piece of My Mind




Movies are a lot like beer.  We tend to like the one on front of us the best.  So it is with some trepidation I write this morning about one that is now 25 years old. 

I noticed last week that the Roger Ebert website re-released his review of Schindler's List from 1993.  Anyone who has ever asked, maybe one person, and I am quick to reply, that Schindler's List is my favorite film.  Usually when I say that faces crunch up and say it is so depressing.  That's when I jump in and tell them that it is the story of one improbable man saving 1,200 Jews from Nazi extermination.  It is really a feel good movie, albeit with some horrific and accurate violence sprinkled in.  Yeah, it's tough and brutal, and there is innocent and random killing, but, in the end, the goodness of humankind is revealed.




For me it is the almost perfect film.  The choice of black and white is genius, and of course, isn't that why we like Spielberg?  The writing, casting, acting, and story is the perfect storm of movie production. 

I'm going to let you in on a little family secret.  I'm a snob.  My mother had class and she wanted us boys to have it as well.  I tend to think we fell a rung or two under that lofty matriarchal goal.  But there it is, every once in a while, it comes out in me.  Wicked snobbery.

25 years after its release it still stands today as a measure of one's cine culture, mental acuity, and whether or not the latest girlfriend is up to snuff.  It goes something like this: 

"Brendan has a new girlfriend."

"Has she ever seen Schindler's List?"

I am not proud of myself for my snobbishness.  Girls have other attributes that can signal worldly wherewithal besides a movie that came out before they were born.  That's what I keep telling myself.  Jettisoning that standard are too different things.  There is no easy cure for snob.  Even when I have stood in line at the Dollar Store for an item that costs 3 cents less than Wal-Mart, and which I know may be inferior, I remain an unadulterated snob.  Even when I have to run from couch to chair upending cushions in search of additional lost coinage for a burger at McDonalds I remain an inveterate snob.  I'm working on it.  A lifetime of near poverty can tend to turn snobs into ascetics.  While I haven't ever been officially poor I have all too often lifted its skirt and peeked under the hood.  

And still I remain snobbish.  Oh, not about everything.  I'm still wearing things I've had for 20 years, I swear.  I can go into my closet and point to three things hanging up that should have been tossed a decade ago, but there they are.  No real snob would ever have any garment that spans three presidential administrations. I'm not remotely vain and drive a 22 year old rusting pickup to prove it.  I'm as average as they come and so unexciting I can melt into a wall.  But I have this stubborn snobbish streak about movies.  

That's why I use Schindler's List as the Rosetta Stone for determining one's movie-going acuity.   If you haven't seen it, you haven't lived.  If you didn't like it, you are beyond saving. And if you thought it was just too sad for words, you only saw the first half.  

Let me digress a moment to tell you why my snobbish eye for cinematic culture sees this as the best movie ever made, and if you haven't seen it, you best.  First off, there were many people who saved Jews during the war.  Irena Sendler saved 2500.  Pere Marie-Benoit saved 4,000.  Gertruida Wijsmuller-Meier saved 10,000.  A little research shows that all over Europe, people, orphanages, churches, school, nuns, rabbi's and villages helped hide or helped escape thousands upon thousands of Jews, Gypsy's and the others Nazi Germany wanted exterminated.  Raoul Wallenberg, a Swedish diplomat and businessman saved tens of thousands.  So what was it about Oskar Schindler that was so special?  He only saved 1200.  I suppose it is because Schindler himself was a member of the Nazi Party, was known as a bit of a shady businessman, already corrupted and was more flash than substance.  

As for the movie, it is in black and white.  A genius move by genius Steven Spielberg.  The writing is phenomenal with an amazing amount of humor amidst the sadness and ultimately, the glory of a happy ending.  The cast is perfect and more than anything it shows the human condition.  The bad guys, the good guys and a bad guy who becomes a good guy.  

It won seven Oscar's out of twelve nominations.  Yeah, it was a long time ago.  25 years ago.  It's cold outside, it's winter and there's all kinds of things to watch, including the Super Bowl coming up.  Find 2 1/2 hours for a re[watch of Schindler's List and you'll not only make me proud.  I'll also think you have class and smarts as well.  



(By the way, our teacher at the Mary Davis Home refused to screen Schindler during Holocaust Week not because of the violent deaths of many portrayed on screen, but for the brief love scene. Go figure.)               











Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Flashback Friday

Class, Or Lack Thereof The Dwight Vice gravestone in Oquawka, Illinois. I bring this old chestnut out every so often just to remind me that class is classless.  Dwight Vice was killed in his home near Oquawka in 2001.  It was one of those things that can generate crime:  two guys thought Dwight had a lot of money stashed at home because of his pot-selling sideline to supplement his fishing job.   Not really one of those big drug deals gone-bad things.  Marijuana was, according to the trial, about the only stuff Dwight sold.   But these two guys barge into the house and killed Dwight and attempted to kill his 11 year old kid, Darryl, before they took off with what money they could find.   His son, now 23, was stabbed in the back and left for dead.  He survived and is wheelchair bound and has undergone several surgeries to repair his wounds.  He will be paralyzed for life.   None of this is pleasant.  Reading the facts of the murder and attempted murder are most unpleasant

Summer Swim

It's Monday and the start of another work week.  Except for me.  I have the week off because the parents of my daycare charges are taking the week off, too. This is one of those wordless posts I love on Mondays so I can put my laziness in full view of loyal readers.  These pics need no words.  Why muddy the waters?   They were taken at the pool at Sinkhole Estates aka Death Valley.  The nice thing about this pool is it is heated in winter.  If one must find positives in one's situation, I suppose that is one.  But, please, no more.   

Florida Air Museum - Part 3

Welcome back to a pretty neat tour of the Florida Air Museum in Lakeland Florida.  There's a lot to see and a couple of the old Geezer Gold Wing guys are already sitting down instead of walking around looking at the exhibits. That's John who is wore out and making a call to his wife.  In all honesty, John was pretty well bushed before the ride.  He told me his daughter's family was down from one of the Carolina's with the grand kids and he must have played with them too much.   He's about to take off on his own and head for home, but he's going to miss a couple of neat things out on Hangar A.   But, before we walk over there, we have lots yet to see here.  If you saw The Aviator with Leonardo DiCaprio playing Howard Hughes, you'll remember that he went up in a plane during the filming of one of his movies to prove a point about flying.  He crashed trying to execute a roll and this is a picture of the plane he crashed.  Note the propeller