The Fall

Finally, now that the Olympics are over and life is slower each night, I showed Liz The Fall, which is perhaps my favorite movie.  Hear me out.  I love Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter.  I love the popular, epic fantasy movies.  But The Fall...it is a movie that sings my soul.  It's almost embarrassing to show people the movie, and I won't unless I trust them.  It's as if I'm giving a piece of who I am to them, a deep part that I'm scared to show, scared because what if they don't like it?

And a lot of people don't like it.  It's a weird movie.  But I love it for its beauty, for the way it portrays the innocence and scariness of childhood, for the honest way it talks about depression, for the way it shows we save and hurt each other in countless ways throughout the day, for how it navigates reality through fiction.

I've seen this movie four times now, and every time I break down at the end.  Depression is overwhelming, and my favorite line is when Roy flounders in the water and sobs, "I can't get up!" and Governor Odious scoffs.  "For God's sake, it's only waist high!"

Yes, that.  That is depression.  It's drowning in waist-high water, convinced you cannot save yourself while everyone else looks on and says, "But that's not so bad."  I love that The Fall handles Roy's depression with shrewd honesty.  We're meant to sympathize with him, but we also hate him for his selfishness, for his single-minded goal.

I adore this movie.  It's gorgeous, and the actors are ridiculously good, and I love the imagery of strength in our teeth, and death bringing forth birds long stored in a mystic's belly.  I know it's weird.  But this story speaks exactly to who I am and how I interpret the world.  I love it.