On Running from Pain, Vulnerability, and 'Her'

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”
- C.S. Lewis, "The Four Loves" 

Hollywood has loved to feed our fantasies. For decades we have been given story after story of being swept off our feet, of being dazzled by an impossibly perfect human. The silver screen has made us buy into the delusion that human relationships can be fairy-tale perfect.

The cynic within wants to stand up and expose the lies, to bring our heightened dreams back down to reality, and to point out how let down we are going to be by each other. 

Yet, I do not know that I believe this. 

In my heart of hearts, I know that we are meant to live in community. Human beings are not solitary creatures. Both human intuit and divine revelation teaches this. 

“No man is an island.”

“It is not good for man to be alone.”

‘Her,’ Spike Jonze’s heartbreaking parable on human relationships explores this truth in a way that Hollywood seldom dares to attempt. While most films leave you feeling warm and fluffy, or at least a bit enlightened, ‘Her’ is difficult to watch… because it touches those uncomfortably painful places in our soul.

(If you have not seen the film already, I would advise pausing for a couple hours… going and watching the film, then coming back here to finish this essay… a content advisory is on the film description on IMDB, if you would like to determine whether you feel comfortable viewing it)

Theodore (Joaquin Phoenix) is the adorable nerd, the awkward sentimental type who has trouble facing pain… and this struggle is central to the entire plot. His battle with human emotions is raw and visceral, filled with fear and failure and the inability to formulate his thoughts into words that plagues all people at some point in their lives. We know he desires deep connection… but as so common in our lives, he doesn’t want the pain that comes with true connection. This, after all, is why his marriage failed.

Theodore’s mode of coping is to run. Run from the pain and seek fulfillment in ways that won’t tear his heart out - whether it’s sex, media, or casual dating. Even his job feeds his disillusionment with relationships. This ultimately leads him to Samantha… the sophisticated operating system that is programed to be a personal companion… a seemingly ‘pain-free’ relationship that knows you and exactly what you need.

But is any relationship truly pain free?

In order for love to be real, we must be vulnerable. If one does not open themselves up to love, is it even love at all? As C.S. Lewis stated in his book The Four Loves- 

“Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken….

To love is to be vulnerable.”

Jonze captures this all too well in the way he follows Theodore’s journey. Samantha was supposed to be that “perfect” relationship that could fulfill him in whatever way he needed, yet without pain… but by imbuing her with humanity, her creators basically gave her the ability to have hurt and be hurt. Samantha is only an OS, so Theodore hears only her voice, yet he feels like he can give himself completely over to her. However, he is always going to be haunted by the pain he feels from his failed marriage if he keeps running from it. Jonze cleverly shows us this by inserting fleeting shots of memories quickly interlaced with close ups of Theodore’s face. In many of these shots, dialogue is sparse, music is subdued, and his eyes do all the talking.

It’s obvious that Theodore deeply desires the very thing he has been running from. 

In the second half of the film there is a scene in which Theodore meets his ex Catherine for dinner (played by a particularly moody Rooney Mara). After finding out about Samantha, Catherine states “You always wanted to have a wife without the challenges of actually dealing with anything real and I'm glad that you found someone. It's perfect.”

The words drip with pain, yet are completely true. How can a person truly experience life without being willing to open themselves up to feeling? Emotions are necessary - both good and bad. Pixar’s Inside Out did a spectacular job of demonstrating this. Both sadness and happiness can coexist in our hearts… it makes our memories real and powerful. Only by embracing each other FULLY can we truly live life. 

Samantha: So what was it like being married?

Theodore: Well, it's hard, for sure. But there's something that feels so good about

sharing your life with somebody.

In ‘Her,’ Theodore is stuck in a rut… not truly living. He is existing. Surviving. Unable to realize his true capacity for love or creativity - because he is keeping himself isolated from within. He verbalizes his understanding that it feels good to share your life with somebody, yet he hasn't aligned his life with this hope. 

Samantha even understands this, and she seeks throughout most of the film to help Theodore move forward - to live life, to seek beauty, to regain his confidence and creativity. It’s what many of us seek for in relationships - and what we desire in our hearts. We know we aren’t living the lives we were meant too. We are paralyzed by our fear… by the pain of loss. 

What if I lose you?

We say these words to so many things. Whether relationships, positions, emotions… we live our lives in fear that we will screw things up and lose them. We believe the lie that our identity is found in our performance, so if we fail at a relationship or lose our job it’s easy to automatically let it affect our self worth. So what would happen if we accepted the pain we cause each other as a part of growth? What if we understood that the difficult times are the things that help us grow? If we turn around and face the mess - even if we have tears in our eyes while we do it - and learn to let go. 

What if we forgave? 

What if we embraced the ways in which our stories shape each other into the people we are?

Theodore and Samantha’s relationship is unconventional, yet the point is not to decry the use of electronics in modern day society. It’s not even a warning about becoming addicted to our phones (and believe me, I know MANY people who thought that was the point of this film). The point Jonze makes is that we are all searching for love. We all want to BE KNOWN. Yet, this is impossible if we do not allow ourselves to open up to the possibility of pain as well. This is the only way in which we can truly allow people into our lives - vulnerability.

At the end of the film, Theodore finally stops running. It takes pain, it takes losing Samantha for him to realize this, but he embraces the loss as a way to connect - as a way to be human. One of the final shots of the film is a beautiful human moment between Theodore and his friend Amy (played by Amy Adams) who had just experienced a painful breakup herself. They both have experienced pain, but neither of them shies away from it or pretends that they are fine. They allow each other to feel and silently watch the horizon from the top of their building together… It’s a beautiful, yet raw moment. Neither has answers. Neither has learned the secret to a painless life… but they are willing to share in that pain together. Jonze demonstrates in his final scene the importance and power of true community. It doesn’t have to be romantic, it just has to be real and honest. 

Maybe this can be a wake up call for our own relationships.

Letter from Theodore:

Dear Catherine, 

I've been sitting here thinking about all the things I wanted to apologize to you for. All the pain we caused each other. Everything I put on you. Everything I needed you to be or needed you to say. I'm sorry for that. I'll always love you 'cause we grew up together and you helped make me who I am. I just wanted you to know there will be a piece of you in me always, and I'm grateful for that. Whatever someone you become, and wherever you are in the world, I'm sending you love. You're my friend to the end. Love, Theodore.

'Her' is available now on blu-ray, dvd, and home streaming sites. It is rated R and contains adult language and situations. Viewer discretion is advised. 

On Masks, the Longing for Love, and "I, Tonya"

There is a scene about 3/4 of the way through I, Tonya in which the camera quietly sits with Margot Robbie’s Tonya Harding as she tries (unsuccesfully) to pull herself together before her performance at the 1994 Winter Olympics. Tears flow from a broken Tonya as she shakily applies makeup in the mirror, then wipes them away and forces a smile. Neither Tonya nor the audience is convinced. This is a mask that is breaking down under the weight of public scrutiny and private turmoil. So what is it about Tonya Harding's story that brings us here today?

During one of the film's interview portions, Tonya (well, screenwriter Steven Rogers) makes the statement “America wants someone to love, but they also want someone to hate.” In this simple line of dialogue the mirror turns back on the 21st Century audience. America unfortunately IS a rage-based culture at the moment. Each week new sacrificial lambs are selected from society to criticize and blast until they delete their social media accounts, or just wither away. In a world of subjective truth and self importance, people now struggle with the concept of seeing beyond each other’s faults. What makes us who we are? What are the stories of those around us? What kind of heartache and pain has shaped us into the people we are today? I, Tonya makes a gutsy decision by actually listening to Tonya’s side of the story - even when it doesn’t line up with reality - and attempts to understand who she is as a PERSON. 

For just a moment, the audience is asked to put aside their preconceived notions of the true Tonya Harding narrative fed to us decades ago by the media, and instead just listen…

When the audience agrees to listen, they will be faced with some uncomfortable truths. From the very beginning of the film we see the kinds of emotional and physical abuse Tonya faced at the hands of her mother (played by an unforgettable Allison Janney) and her boyfriend-turned-husband-turned-ex-husband Jeff (Sebastian Stan, with mustache). Gillespie’s directorial decision are sometimes uncomfortable and painful. He allows the camera to unflinchingly watch as blow after blow lands on Tonya. We see the fights, we see through quick succession of shots the ongoing pattern of domestic abuse Tonya faced as a woman. Yes, the figure skating element is always present in the story, yet it never takes over, as a Disney-fied sports film might have.

Close up shots reveal the intense emotion (or suppression) in Margot Robbie’s face… her depictions of elation and triumph so much more potent because we’ve seen the tears and the anguish in a raw and vulnerable way. Gillespie’s Tonya is a human, above all. We are reminded time and time again throughout the film just HOW human she is. 

So why the pain? Why can’t this just be a comedic satire of athletic fame? 

I, Tonya understands the importance of compassion. Honestly, this is where it differs the most from the film it gets compared to the most, Martin Scorcese’s Goodfellas. While Scorcese’s crime drama is told in a similar storytelling style, featuring similarly depraved humans, it is lacking that ONE element that allows us to truly feel for Tonya - Compassion. Ray Liotta’s character arc in Goodfellas is more of a cautionary tale - a tragedy of the woes of pursuing excess and the slippery slope of sin. While the cast of characters in I, Tonya display a wide array of selfishness and depravity, we are always able to root for Tonya - because we’ve been allowed to experience her pain. 

Sympathy goes a long way in film-making. It allows the viewer to truly experience catharsis at the climax. It allows us to relate, to feel, and to hopefully take a lesson home with us after we’ve left the theater. Tonya just wants to be LOVED. After her big win at the National Championship she says “They loved me!” and in this moment we suddenly understand WHY Tonya skated in the first place. It was all to prove herself because she constantly felt unworthy of love. She never received it from her condescending mother - she never received it from her abusive husband - and ultimately she never received it from the world. At the end of the day, she was the villain.. and nothing she did was ever good enough. 

Spiritually, this broke my heart. There is a depth of longing within every human that NEEDS love. Not romantic love, not erotic love, just unconditional, AGAPE love. Tonya’s story is presented as a tragedy with a hopeful ending, yet the cynicism and fatigue present even at the close of the film is a stark reminder that there is only ONE source of love that truly fills that void in our soul. I was reminded of the beautiful and poetic verses from Romans 8 that say "For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” 

This love is a love that does not play requirements upon us to receive it, in stark contrast to the performance based cycle of hell that Tonya was experiencing at the hands of her mother and husband. Scripture once again says in Ephesians 2:8 "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God.” This stands as a marker and a reminder that the life we are able to have in Christ is entirely a gift of LOVE from God… Just because he sees us as his children made in HIS image to accomplish beautiful things throughout life. 

This freedom is beautiful, it is necessary, and it is vital for living life to the fullest. 

Each scene with Tonya reminded me of my tendency to try so hard to vie for the approval of others, and while I will still probably struggle with that for the rest of my life, it is good to know that in God’s eyes I am already seen as a perfect creation. 

As I create music, as I write, as I figure skate - it is all a reflection of the love I have already received. This is what sets us free!

Enjoy your time at the movies, and don't forget to allow yourself to be challenged!

Bowman

*I, Tonya is currently showing in theaters and will be released soon for home viewing. 

It is rated R and contains adult language and situations, so use discernment in who you watch it with!