I am not an easy one to please when it comes to films. Often the most critically-acclaimed movies leave me cold. On the other hand, not infrequently some gem of a movie, that lasted for a short duration in the theatres, so impresses me that I draw inspiration from it for years to come.
Despite initial appearances, this is not a movie review. This film has got me thinking, and among the things I'm reflecting upon is the following idea: the autonomy of the human being to decide what is right for himself or herself, even when afflicted with a severe mental illness. I'm also interested in how we might acquire the capacity to be more accepting of the manners in which others cope with their own sets of afflictions or challenges, notably when they are hurting no one through their own means of dealing with them.
There is a striking segment in this film in which one of the protagonists, Steve, who seeks to assist his mentally-ill friend, Nathanial (the musician, or "soloist"), turns to the director of LAMP (Los Angeles Men's Project) asking for medical assistance. The response Steve receives, effectively, is that diagnoses are easy to come by, that sometimes the individuals do NOT (for a variety of reasons) want medication, and the best thing that Steve can offer to Nathanial is what he is already offering: his friendship.
As the story continues, Steve must come to terms with the fact that he cannot really help Nathanial in the manner that he had hoped, that quite possibly what he has done for Nathanial has made no significant difference. On the other hand, he comes to realize that in wanting to help, in offering friendship, he - Steve, has gained something quite wonderful. The friendship has changed him.
Steve begins to see Nathanial with different eyes. Nathanial has gone from being someone who has "lost his way" and needs to be "fixed", to being a beautiful, noble human being whom Steve feels honoured to call his friend.
What I love about this aspect of the film is the coming around to pure, nonjudgmental acceptance. The character of Nathanial (based on a real person) presents to us a moving example of a human being living out his life with his own set of challenges. His struggle is the universal human struggle. Each of us has challenges and limitations, and each of us handles these challenges in the best way we know how. Sometimes it is helpful to hear of other possible strategies, but when all is said and done, we choose. And there is something in the way the human being was designed that causes us to fight for that right to choose, even to one's death sometimes. Our will resides in the realm of choice, and our will is closely linked to the unique spirit that animates each one of us. We may be prevented from acting on our choice, but nobody can take from us our convictions.
Another character in this film, also likely afflicted with schizophrenia, explains to a volunteer at LAMP that lithium removes the voices in her head, but she has come to rely on some of those voices. Sometimes those voices assist her in her decision-making. Often they are a source of comfort to her. She feels helpless without them, so she would prefer not to take the lithium. Although I do not share her affliction, her reasoning, to me, makes perfect sense.
When I was a child, there was a gentleman who attended our church named Donnie. In those days, Donnie was labeled "mentally retarded". Everyone knew and loved Donnie, and everyone also knew he was a little strange. His "strangeness", though, added something to community life. Our community was the richer for including Donnie, with all his unique quirks and charms. When I was a teen, I worked in a bakery which, along with a string of other businesses, was in Donnie's neighbourhood. Every morning, Donnie made the rounds. At about 10:15 he arrived at the bakery. He had a thing for me, and that thing involved seeing me riding a horse. "Weeelllllll, Judy on a horseback", was his standard greeting when he entered the bakery. Apparently, even on days when I wasn't working, he still opened the door with this greeting. I don't think he ever would have had occasion to see me on a horse...
I love the way Donnie was accepted, in the village and in the church. No one tried to change Donnie. He was no threat to anyone. In fact, he brought his own special light to us. When I heard of Donnie's passing, I grieved. One of the sweetest and purest lights to touch my life had gone out.
I wonder how often in my own life, I look at individuals I know, or know of, and consider ways in which that person might be "helped" or "fixed". I'm hoping that, like Steve, I can begin to acquire "new eyes" to see past the affliction or challenge and behold the true essence and nobility of the soul before me. Every person is in some way a gift. Sometimes getting to that true essence which is the real nugget requires some effort. But I have no doubt that the greater the effort, the more precious the reward.
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