2007 and other stuff
Jan. 2nd, 2007 01:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
matrilI had a very nice vacation. Christmas morning was fun, with Emma tearing through her presents and Luke opening one, playing with it intently, and having to be severely coaxed into wrenching himself away to open a new present. But he liked all his presents, when he eventually got around to opening them. ;)
The day after we drove down to Pennsylvania to visit my parents and my little sister, home from college. My parents have bought a new house, which is going to be built this year. I spent so many years in that house. :( I'm a sentimental idiot, and I know it's in a lousy location (note: a house next to a golf course is NOT in a prime location, unless you like broken windows and ball-seeking trespassers) but I can't help being sad that they're selling it. Well, somehow I'll get by. ;)
Anyway, it was good to see my sister and try to predict whether she, like her older sisters, will be married before she graduates from college. (So far, she's had three dates, but that's more than I ever had my freshman year, and I still managed to get married just after my junior year.) While we were down there, we enjoyed the use of my parents' TiVo and watched many a movie. We saw Rainman for the first time since we learned that Luke was autistic. I've been thinking about it a lot ever since.
I still think it's a good movie. I was wondering if I'd be annoyed by the film's portrayal of autism and see all sorts of inaccuracies, but no. Aside from the savant aspects which make autism seem almost glamorous, and which we have certainly not seen in Luke at this point, Raymond's behavior is very familiar. My father and sister were chuckling at a lot of points at some of his lines, and part of me was thinking "It's not funny when you're living it!" Yet I have to acknowledge that sometimes a sense of humor is the only way to get through the difficult times. I was somewhat surprised to realize that Raymond is actually described as high-functioning. But I suppose if he had been born in the 50's, even a high-functioning autist would probably face little better than life in an institution. Things have changed since then, particuarly in the last 20 years. My dad was disgruntled by the ending - "Nothing happened!" he complained. And I see where he's coming from. Raymond goes back, essentially unchanged. And yet he did have a few subtle changes, which is very significant for an autist. Change is not easy for them. And the ending would probably be different now, if he had come from a background of intensive therapies and programs like Luke is getting now. At least that's my hope.
However, it was Charlie's character who interested me most. As compelling as Raymond is, as well as Hoffman's brilliant portrayal, it's really the younger brother whose character arc forms the structure of the film. That's why the ending would seem a downer, if you're focused on Raymond. Charlie is at a very different place at the end of the movie than the start. And I expect I identified with him most because I too am dealing with this autistic person in my life that I did not anticipate. I understand all too well how he is impatient, loses his temper, yells at his brother when he's just reached his limit and can't take it anymore. And that moment in Las Vegas when he teaches him to dance, and they're connecting, and he's happy with Raymond....and when he tries to hug him, his brother goes nuts. As he naturally would, but Charlie's frustration there is so real. It really makes my heart break.
I was studying the nature of masculinity and father-son relationships for a paper that I wrote for Saga Journal, so I guess that was really on my mind while watching the movie this time. The absent father is a very intriging, troubling figure. I can understand why he sent Raymond away. His wife died, he had a young child to take care of, he just couldn't handle it anymore. But why hide Raymond's existence? Why deprive Charlie of a relationship with his brother? Maybe he really was just a vindictive ogre, like Charlie remembers him. Or maybe he had the misguided idea that he was doing his younger son a favor. Having a brother like Raymond, he might have reasoned, would be a burden. I understand that. But boys need brothers. Failing that, they seek out other male friends they can safely bond with without risking their fragile sense of masculinity, but you can't really replace a lost brother. Oh, Raymond would have been a very difficult brother, but Charlie, as a child, would have had an inherent acceptance of him. Like Emma adores Luke, I suppose. He really could have used someone to teach him patience, compassion, unconditional love - all the things that he's lacking at the start of the movie. And the absence of those capabilities has really made him hollow.
Meeting Raymond begins to transform him. At first, understandably, he's furious at his father for hiding this from him, not to mention giving all the money to Raymond and none to him. But the old longing begins to emerge early on, as he attempts to develop a relationship with this brother who's been kept from him all this time. He is misguided in so many ways, first essentially kidnapping his brother in an attempt to get his share of the money, and then deciding instead that he wants to keep Raymond with him because he's his brother. The second motivation is better than the first, but still inherently selfish. He's able to let go of that at the end when he's thinking of Raymond and not himself. Dealing with Raymond, by its nature, has demanded new things of Charlie - he absolutely cannot be thinking of himself when his brother is catatonically terrified of airplanes, when his literal-mindedness results in him stopping in the middle of a crosswalk. Raymond's condition forcibly teaches him to be a brother, a caretaker, a human; where before he was a money-driven, self-absorbed man who was too filled with resentment toward his father to even try to contact him before his death.
So I could blather on longer, but those are pretty much my impressions. This is why I value good art. It's cathartic.
The day after we drove down to Pennsylvania to visit my parents and my little sister, home from college. My parents have bought a new house, which is going to be built this year. I spent so many years in that house. :( I'm a sentimental idiot, and I know it's in a lousy location (note: a house next to a golf course is NOT in a prime location, unless you like broken windows and ball-seeking trespassers) but I can't help being sad that they're selling it. Well, somehow I'll get by. ;)
Anyway, it was good to see my sister and try to predict whether she, like her older sisters, will be married before she graduates from college. (So far, she's had three dates, but that's more than I ever had my freshman year, and I still managed to get married just after my junior year.) While we were down there, we enjoyed the use of my parents' TiVo and watched many a movie. We saw Rainman for the first time since we learned that Luke was autistic. I've been thinking about it a lot ever since.
I still think it's a good movie. I was wondering if I'd be annoyed by the film's portrayal of autism and see all sorts of inaccuracies, but no. Aside from the savant aspects which make autism seem almost glamorous, and which we have certainly not seen in Luke at this point, Raymond's behavior is very familiar. My father and sister were chuckling at a lot of points at some of his lines, and part of me was thinking "It's not funny when you're living it!" Yet I have to acknowledge that sometimes a sense of humor is the only way to get through the difficult times. I was somewhat surprised to realize that Raymond is actually described as high-functioning. But I suppose if he had been born in the 50's, even a high-functioning autist would probably face little better than life in an institution. Things have changed since then, particuarly in the last 20 years. My dad was disgruntled by the ending - "Nothing happened!" he complained. And I see where he's coming from. Raymond goes back, essentially unchanged. And yet he did have a few subtle changes, which is very significant for an autist. Change is not easy for them. And the ending would probably be different now, if he had come from a background of intensive therapies and programs like Luke is getting now. At least that's my hope.
However, it was Charlie's character who interested me most. As compelling as Raymond is, as well as Hoffman's brilliant portrayal, it's really the younger brother whose character arc forms the structure of the film. That's why the ending would seem a downer, if you're focused on Raymond. Charlie is at a very different place at the end of the movie than the start. And I expect I identified with him most because I too am dealing with this autistic person in my life that I did not anticipate. I understand all too well how he is impatient, loses his temper, yells at his brother when he's just reached his limit and can't take it anymore. And that moment in Las Vegas when he teaches him to dance, and they're connecting, and he's happy with Raymond....and when he tries to hug him, his brother goes nuts. As he naturally would, but Charlie's frustration there is so real. It really makes my heart break.
I was studying the nature of masculinity and father-son relationships for a paper that I wrote for Saga Journal, so I guess that was really on my mind while watching the movie this time. The absent father is a very intriging, troubling figure. I can understand why he sent Raymond away. His wife died, he had a young child to take care of, he just couldn't handle it anymore. But why hide Raymond's existence? Why deprive Charlie of a relationship with his brother? Maybe he really was just a vindictive ogre, like Charlie remembers him. Or maybe he had the misguided idea that he was doing his younger son a favor. Having a brother like Raymond, he might have reasoned, would be a burden. I understand that. But boys need brothers. Failing that, they seek out other male friends they can safely bond with without risking their fragile sense of masculinity, but you can't really replace a lost brother. Oh, Raymond would have been a very difficult brother, but Charlie, as a child, would have had an inherent acceptance of him. Like Emma adores Luke, I suppose. He really could have used someone to teach him patience, compassion, unconditional love - all the things that he's lacking at the start of the movie. And the absence of those capabilities has really made him hollow.
Meeting Raymond begins to transform him. At first, understandably, he's furious at his father for hiding this from him, not to mention giving all the money to Raymond and none to him. But the old longing begins to emerge early on, as he attempts to develop a relationship with this brother who's been kept from him all this time. He is misguided in so many ways, first essentially kidnapping his brother in an attempt to get his share of the money, and then deciding instead that he wants to keep Raymond with him because he's his brother. The second motivation is better than the first, but still inherently selfish. He's able to let go of that at the end when he's thinking of Raymond and not himself. Dealing with Raymond, by its nature, has demanded new things of Charlie - he absolutely cannot be thinking of himself when his brother is catatonically terrified of airplanes, when his literal-mindedness results in him stopping in the middle of a crosswalk. Raymond's condition forcibly teaches him to be a brother, a caretaker, a human; where before he was a money-driven, self-absorbed man who was too filled with resentment toward his father to even try to contact him before his death.
So I could blather on longer, but those are pretty much my impressions. This is why I value good art. It's cathartic.
