Some thoughts ran through my mind as I stayed home this past
few days to chaperone the kids. It was a week of funerals, including That One.
Some of my friends had loved ones who passed on, while others had elderly
family members waiting out their time on sick beds. It got to a point where I
tuned out by watching movies back-to-back.
And it seems that Christopher Nolan’s films aren’t exactly what we
should be watching to relax our minds.
Nolan’s films are about human relationships. Think about it. Shelby’s relationship with the people around him. Borden and Angier’s failed professional and personal relationships. Wayne’s loss of his parents. Cobb’s guilt over his deceased wife. Cooper’s estrangement with his daughter. These were driving points in Nolan’s works. His films are about relationships as much as they dazzle audiences with special effects or action sequences.
Just like the complexities of the dream layers or the
science behind black holes, human relationships aren’t the easiest thing to
comprehend. Perhaps they are the most complex things we have. We seldom have a
good grasp of what they’re all about, even as we fumble our way through life.
It’s funny how in school we’re taught math and everything
else except how to relate with one another. I remember my early days in the
education service, encountering a rather over-enthusiastic colleague who
proposed a grading rubric that involved assessing how well each student worked
with others. But how do we even put a grade on that? What does it mean when a
student is 67% able to relate to others? That he has 33% sociopathic
tendencies?
As we prepare to say our goodbyes to loved ones,
or even less-than-loved ones, we will always reflect on one question.
How would the relationship have turned out if we had done things differently?
You know, there is wisdom in the admonishment to not let the sun go down on our
anger. For we don’t know how much hurt will fester, or if any of us will have a
tomorrow to make amends.
