munich

*warning: contains spoilers*

Kevin and I went to see MUNICH. My god. What a horribly violent, circular argument about vengeance and home; loyalty and insanity; friendship and survival. One thing that stands out for me is when, while explaining the Italian translation of 1001 Arabian Nights, the poet says, “You think of it as poetry, I think of it as narrative linked to survival.” And it was. The survival of our dear protagonist, linked to the fatal narrative of those killed in Munich, to the continuing narrative of the Jews and Israel, to the burgeoning narrative of his own family. And he barely survives. We tell ourselves these stories to keep going, to rationalize our actions. Find the right story, the right reasoning, and everything is alright. Right? Is that what story is for? To rouse the troupes. To assuage guilt?

I pose the possibility of other uses for narrative, for story. To make beginnings, to push the boat off in the right direction, to remember with fondness those moments and people who have changed the course of our lives, to make our friends laugh.

I resent the last shot of the film. The protagonist has abandoned Israel in favour of the US. He cannot sleep. He is haunted and hunted. He questions what he has done. And as he refuses (and is refused) for the last time, he's left standing in an abandoned playground. Run down and overgrown with weeds, no children play there anymoe. And in the background, the Hudson River, Manhattan, the Twin Towers. And with that shot, Spielberg links all that has happened in the movie to what will happen in New York. The buildings stand ominous, promising a continuation and escalation of the violence. That the existence of the State of Israel continues to impact our lives, even if we think it doesn't, if only through the media. That people will go to great lengths for Home.