SENTIENT TIMES • October/November 2006
Transformation Through Film
By Marla Estes
“Film as dream, film as music. No art passes our conscience
in the way film does, and goes directly to our feelings,
deep down into the dark rooms of our souls.”
- Ingmar Bergman
Film as a transformational medium is nothing new. Not only recognized as a psychological tool, it is also used as a way to encourage social change and to aid in spiritual evolution.
The beauty of film is that we get an opportunity to encounter in a visceral way life experiences that may mirror our own. At times, we are able to recognize psychological truths about ourselves more easily when seeing them on the screen; it can be less personal, painful, or threatening. In this way, film can present a way in to our own psychological realizations and growth. On the other hand, if what we see is foreign to us, we may gain insight into or compassion for someone else’s experience. We laugh, we cry, we become invested through sight, sound, and feelings with the fate and destiny of our characters. Although the transformational quality of books is unquestionable, movies can involve us more fully, with more of our senses engaged.
Some films depict how and where we get stuck and others illustrate the arc of change and transformation. Some do both. The film “Madam Bovary” shows our heroine, Emma, unable to find fulfillment of her deep longing, despite attempts to do so through marriage, children, lovers, and so forth. She is trapped, always looking externally for what she needs to find internally, and eventually ends her life as a way out, to find peace. Emma’s counterpart, Sonia, in the film “A Price Beyond Rubies,” does find her way out of the traps of her existence, and shows us the way to move from Victim to Heroine, although not without great personal sacrifice. We may, as viewers, identify with where we are on this continuum, and consider these messages as guidance. What might we move away from? What might we move toward?
In addition, watching films through the lens of archetypal symbolism can be useful. Two Jungian archetypes that are wonderfully illustrated in film are the anima and animus. Briefly stated, the anima is the inner feminine in men and the animus is the inner masculine in women. Through both collective and personal imprinting of the opposite sex, an internalized template is created in each of us. This becomes the basis for our romantic relationships as adults.
If worked with consciously, Jung goes on to say, the anima, in a symbolic way, can guide a man to his inner life, and the animus shows the way for a woman to manifest in the outer world. Most of us search for the anima or animus in concrete ways, in relationship with real people. Jungians prescribe working with these archetypes internally, internalizing our “other halves” and becoming whole.
These archetypes are excellently depicted in the film, “Far From the Madding Crowd,” based on a Thomas Hardy novel. Three men surround our heroine, Bathsheba, played by Julie Christie. There is Boldwood, who is obsessed with her, and there is Lt. Troy, with whom she is obsessed. In these relationships, we see perfect examples of romantic projection. Bathsheba projects her animus on Troy, and Boldwood projects his anima on Bathsheba. This presents questions. How might Bathsheba incorporate the (perceived) bravery, ability to take action, and adventurousness of Troy? How might Boldwood embody the (perceived) nobility, generosity, and beauty of Bathsheba? And how might she use Boldwood’s projections to grow into some of these higher aspects of herself?
Bathsheba does transform enormously by the film’s end. Through tragedy, pain, and sorrow, she gains self-knowledge and wisdom. She is then able to marry the third man, Oak, who has witnessed all her trials and tribulations. Their knowledge of one another is real, not projected, and therefore they can proceed on more solid, healthier ground. Taken symbolically, this relationship can also be interpreted as the inner marriage, a sense of integration.
One of the other ways to play with film is with the archetypes that are presented. (the use of the word “play” is intentional). For instance, we can try the Hero on for size, or the Warrior. We can explore where the Victim resides in us, or the Perpetrator. We can see which archetypal energies we want to use, or perhaps more accurately, that want to use us - to flow through us, rising to the particular challenges that we face in our day-to-day lives.
The archetypes, for example, of Hero and Villain are at worst one-dimensional depictions of humanity, and at best models of how to behave and how not to behave. Most of us seem to recognize the difference between hero and villain. Amazing then that people don’t seem to incorporate this modeling into their everyday lives more often, to take the opportunities for quiet heroics that are presented to us daily.
In this vein, the movie, “Pay It Forward,” is a good example. Our young hero, Trevor, is given a homework assignment: to put into action something that will change the world. Instead of repaying good deeds with “pay-back,” he decides to “pay it forward.” In this way, he shows us exactly how the ripple effect is created and models behavior that is accessible to us all.
On the other hand, both the savior and the perpetrator are alive in all of us. To polarize the two doesn’t serve us. If the villain in us goes underground, it becomes shadow. The shadow is whatever has been disowned and unlived by us, be it virtue or vice. Although the shadow has a negative connotation, this isn’t necessarily so. An example of this is Walter Mitty, whose shadow side revealed itself in his fantasies of heroism. Or the actor Russell Crowe who, while publicized as a “bad boy” in his real life, plays the hero role in film wonderfully. It would seem that he has found a place for both sides of his personality, but perhaps not a way to live the integration of both. That integration would be a part of what Jung would consider becoming “whole.”
According to Jungian thought, we must find a place for the more negative or undesirable aspects of shadow in our lives; otherwise it will come out in unconscious, destructive ways. A prime example of this, even if extreme, is the character of Colonel Frank Fitts in “American Beauty,” whose repressed homosexuality ultimately results in his homicidal act.
What is not seen very often in film is the integration of shadow. One illustration of this is “The Shadow,” with Alec Baldwin. Baldwin plays Lamont Cranston, once an evil opium drug lord who is eventually mentored by a spiritual master who teaches him how to use his dark energy for the good of others. There are several scenes which depict Lamont’s inner struggles with his shadow quite well.
Another example is the film, “Collateral.” Our hero, Max (played by Jamie Foxx), a cab driver, unwittingly picks up a hit man, Vincent (Tom Cruise), as a fare. As the night progresses, Max is forced to chauffeur Vincent to his assassinations. Max watches and learns, takes in Vincent’s dark intelligence, the cunning and power of the shadow, and ultimately is able to integrate and channel it into his own heroic acts. The shadow stores untapped energies that, once conscious, re-owned, and integrated, can have tremendous impact and power in our lives.
Bringing the micro to the macro, the personal to the bigger picture, is yet another way to play with film. The statement “the personal is political” is shown quite effectively in films which have been based on true stories. Examples abound: “Silkwood,” “Erin Brockovich,” and “A Civil Action,” to name a few. In these films, our worldview can start to open up; the micro can become the macro. We can see ourselves as an everyday person who is sucked into bigger-than-personal events, events where we would have to make a stand, speak out, rise to the occasion, be an everyday hero. We can ask ourselves, at what point would we speak out? How personal do events need to be for us to move?
Even in the two films mentioned earlier, “Madam Bovary” and “A Price Beyond Rubies,” we are made aware of how “the personal is cultural.” Both these women’s lives were directly affected by the cultural, societal milieu in which they found themselves. As viewers, it helps us to question how much of our own traps are cultural in nature, and to begin to untangle those particular knots and beliefs.
Another way that movies work on us is on a spiritual, transpersonal (beyond the personal) level. In this way, we begin to transcend our personal stories. We begin to see the larger meaning of and purpose in our lives. The protagonist of the classic Japanese film, “Ikuru,” finds the beauty and purpose of his life only when he is faced with his impending death through a terminal illness. He builds a children’s playground with the small amount of time left to him and touches everyone with whom he is in contact.
Movies like “Groundhog Day,” “The Game,” and “I Heart Huckabees” show how the shifting of everyday reality, transcending our normal filters and perspectives, can help teach us the psychospiritual lessons we need to learn. In “Groundhog Day,” Phil Connors (played by Bill Murray) has to live the same day over and over again until he gets it “right,” exemplifying the way in which we repeat our same patterns endlessly until we can finally break away from them. Our lives can then expand, enabling us to grow into our fuller stature.
These are but some of the ways in which movies can be explored from the perspective of personal, collective, and transpersonal growth and transformation. The psychological, social/cultural, micro/macro, and spiritual are, in my view, interwoven. If we effect movement in one aspect, all the others are affected. We can’t change one thread without changing the character of the whole cloth. In so doing, we evolve.
Marla Estes has a M.A. in Transpersonal Studies. She teaches, writes, and mentors. Marla will be teaching two film class series at Southern Oregon University: “Exploring Women’s Themes Through Film,” Tuesday evenings, October 10–November 7 and “Exploring Romantic Love Through Film,” Wednesday evenings, October 25 – December 6. For more information go to www.sou.edu/takeaclass or phone SOU at (541) 552-6331. She will also be co-facilitating a weekend Enneagram workshop, “Spiritual Gifts and Psychological Defenses,” October 27-29. Marla can be reached at marla16@charter.net or (541) 482-4948.
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