Showing posts with label Wim Wenders. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wim Wenders. Show all posts

Sunday, February 9, 2020

A Tale of Two Angels: Painful Past and Precious Present by Haley Ecker




Sun or moon. Black or white. Rain or shine. Day or night. These are all opposites, describing two polar ends of specific spectrums involving color, nature, space, and time. These are all broad gestalts, but it is because of their major differences that we often are forced to choose between the two poles. We recognize that there are mediums between these poles, being noon, the color grey, a clear night sky, and an overcast day. It is the choice between the two poles; however, that choice encourages us to look at the middle.




Wim Wenders introduces two figures in The Wings of Desire that represent two other poles: present and past. Damiel and Cassiel are two angels that overlook the residents of a Berlin Wall-divided Germany. After watching and listening to the hopes and dreams of a melancholic trapeze artist, Damiel begins to consider trading his immortality for a regular life amongst the rest of the humans that he and Cassiel watch over. Cassiel does not share this same desire to trade in his immortality and debates Damiel about the worth of becoming human in the context of all the tragedies they have had to witness. Wenders uses the angels to represent two sides of humanity, with Damiel being the incarnation for hope and love for the present and Cassiel being the depiction of humanity’s disdain and constant looking-over-the-shoulder-motion toward the past. With these two contrasts, Wenders is able to demonstrate how living in the moment, rather than staying in the past, is what helps to bring about a full, meaningful life.

           

The core difference in the fundamentals of the two angels can be seen in the people they choose to interact with. Damiel, our angel of the precious present, is often seen watching over smiling young children such as a young girl coloring on an airplane (Wenders, 00:04:12) and another girl sitting next to him at the circus (Wenders, 00:56:58). Both children appear to acknowledge his presence and smile at him as if they can actually see him, despite the fact that the angels are not typically seen with the naked eye. Cassiel, on the other hand, is viewed less often with smiling children and more so with somber adults reminiscing about the misery of the past, such as Homer, an old man who recollects about how Berlin used to look prior to World War II and the rise of the Berlin Wall (Wenders, 00:42:11).




While the elderly people Cassiel follows focus more on the past perils of Berlin, the children Damiel watches tend to focus more on playing games and being entertained. These kids are too preoccupied living in the moment to worry about the past. There is some purity in that only the children notice the angels’ presence – they lack a closed off imagination and desire to dwell on the past. This is analogous to those who can appreciate life’s beauty and those who cannot. The children do not know as much pain as the elderly since they have yet to experience any real tragedies. Ariana Farajollah best describes this idea in her blog post on Taking Giants Steps Press, stating that “the children, not yet corrupted by the limits of the rational mind, easily sense the comfort emitted by Damiel” (Farajollah, par. 7). Although naive, there is something simply beautiful about this; the children still have hopes and dreams to fill and are able to be in the present. 


           

Damiel is more interested in objects in the moment and entranced by the normalcy of human life. This is why he chooses to surround himself with happy, young children rather than the same depressed folks that Cassiel watches. In fact, when Damiel invites Cassiel to watch the circus discussed earlier, he is seen moving further away from Damiel and the kids as opposed to getting closer to the lively show (Wenders, 0:56:58). He appears significantly less excited to watch the performance and be around the youthful children than Damiel does. Instead of following and watching Homer with Cassiel, Damiel imagines twirling around a pen with his fingers in Homer’s library (Wenders, 0:19:44). He studies the pen as Cassiel listens to Homer think about how much Berlin has changed. As observed in how he watches Homer from the upper level of the library, Cassiel constantly distances himself from humans. Damiel, on the other hand, is willing to walk alongside the humans and get close to them. This distancing from the present is representative of how we humans tend to distance ourselves from the moment. Wenders uses a constantly “drifting camera” to further establish Cassiel’s distance from the present (Singer, par. 7). Once Damiel becomes human, the audience gets less of a bird’s eye view and more of a “dynamic, street-level” look at the present alongside Damiel (Singer, par. 7).



          

The difference between Damiel and Cassiel is ever more apparent through Wenders’s use of color. For the majority of the film, the viewers see through the monochromatic lens of the angels. Henri Alekan, the cinematographer of Wings of Desire, is responsible for this artistic decision, as the “sepia-tinged black-and-white imagery [depicts] the angels’ muted vision of the world. Ironically, [Alekan’s] rich, creamy monochrome might appear too gorgeously tactile for the angels’ non-sensory world” (Singer, par. 5). This observation makes sense because the only times the screen flips to vibrant color is when Damiel gets physically closer to Marion, the somber trapeze artist from the circus (Wenders, 00:35:17), and when he eventually becomes human (Wenders, 01:31:38). This never happens to Cassiel, however. In fact, when Damiel firmly admits his desires for becoming human, he and Cassiel turn around and notice that there is only one set of footprints behind them now (Wenders, 01:31:28). This is emblematic of Damiel’s transformation. The footprints and color of Damiel’s new life are representative of how life becomes more vibrant when one chooses to live in the moment. Cassiel’s constant black-and-white lens harkens back to how old Hollywood films use to only be in black and white. Like these old movies, Cassiel is still looking back instead of looking forward, following around old remnants of Berlin, and continuously recollecting on the people and scenarios he witnessed centuries ago.

           

It is those who tend to look toward the past rather than live in the present that live some of the most painful lives around. Both Cassiel and Damiel deal with individuals near death in the film. While Damiel chooses to comfort a victim of a crash through reaching out and petting his head (Wenders, 00:36:30), Cassiel tries to prevent a man from jumping off the top of a building. Damiel does not intervene from the impending death of the person he is with. Cassiel, however, completely tries to use his powers to get the person he is observing to not jump off the roof. He tries so hard to prevent this tragedy from occurring that when the man does jump, Cassiel screams in anguish at the top of his lungs (Wenders, 01:09:00). This is the only time in the entire film where Cassiel appears to show any emotion. He is upset because he had to witness someone willingly throw away their life. His reaction leads one to question whether this is the first time he has had to witness such a harrowing event. Cassiel takes a more preventative approach rather than just letting things happen naturally, as his counterpart would. While it is sad watching a person take their own life, this situation shows how we cannot always prevent the past from reoccurring or the present from occurring. We have to let things happen naturally, even if it will lead us down a painful path. Cassiel’s attempt to avoid this pain makes the viewer see how hard it is to not let the world unfold as it appears to do so. Sometimes, we have to let the chips fall where they may and just be there in the moment when it all comes crashing down.

           

The first scene of the film is Damiel looking over the city with a silhouette of his wings. The very last scene of the film, conversely, is Cassiel looking sadly over the city on the same building his counterpart was on (Wenders, 02:04:31). His friend is finally able to feel and experience all the things they never could do as angels, from drinking coffee, to running in the street, to feeling blood course through their veins. Damiel is clearly so much happier back down on Earth walking amongst the citizens and holding Marion in his arms. The difference between the two perspectives of the angels can better be described by Peter Handke’s poem, “Song Of Being a Child.” Handke writes about the mind of a child when it is young versus when it grows old:

Many people seem beautiful to [the child]

And now not so many and now only if [the child is] lucky

[The child] had a precise picture of paradise

And now can only conceive of it at best

[The child] couldn’t imagine nothingness. (41-45)

Lines 41, 43, and 45 perfectly describe Damiel’s attitude and demeanor; he sees all the beauty in the world and is so full of life because he is able to appreciate the “paradise” of the present. On the contrary, lines 42 and 44 seem to better fit Cassiel’s narrative. In the places where Damiel sees beauty, Cassiel only sees pain and what will eventually become future tragedies. He lacks the same amount of optimism for humanity that Damiel has. Similar to writer Michael O’Malley, Damiel genuinely believes that “humanity is naturally good… everywhere there are people who naturally feel inclined to help each other, even if they are strangers” (O’Malley, par. 2). Cassiel clings to the cynical mindset that based on the past events of history (especially World War II and the Cold War), humanity is not some sort of paradise. The past will only continue to repeat the same tragedies over and over again until the end of time. This is why he connects so much with Homer– his thoughts about how Berlin has come to ruins only further supports Cassiel’s misgivings about mankind.

           

It is understandable to be wary of the past like Cassiel. That is why we study world history, after all. Humankind has made so many erroneous blunders over the course of time that it makes sense as to why Cassiel would rather watch from a distance as he sees the world crumble and boil into an abyss of agony, bound to repeat the same mistakes we made centuries ago. One must not always be this pessimistic, though. There are so many beautiful things around us that if we continue to dwell on the past, we will forget about how amazing the present is. We may forget to relish in once-in-a-lifetime moments because we worry too much. This is no way to live life. We have an entire lifetime to worry about our past mistakes and the ones we might make in the future. That is why we must choose Damiel’s pole: the present. Appreciating the simple things about life, like Damiel desired for so long, is how we become more positive individuals. Each moment only happens once in your entire life, so live boundlessly and lovingly. Today is the youngest you will ever be from now on and the oldest you have ever been. Enjoy the precious present and take your mind away from the painful past.




Works Cited



Farajollah, Ariana. “It Is the Little Things That Make Life Big.” Blogspot. N.p. 21 Sept. 2017, http://giantstepspress.blogspot.com/2017/09/it-is-little-things-that-make-life-big.html. Accessed 3 May 2019.

Handke, Peter. “Song of Being a Child.” Peter Handke – Song of Being a Child, edited by Poetry Bar. Wordpress.com, 2009. Accessed 7 May 2019.

O’Malley, Michael. “Comfortably Numb with an Infected Humanity.” Blogspot. N.p. 31 Oct. 2018, http://giantstepspress.blogspot.com/2018/10/. Accessed 3 May 2019.

Singer, Leigh. “Five Visual Themes in Wings of Desire – Wim Wenders' Immortal Film about Watching.” British Film Institute, 14 Sept. 2016, www.bfi.org.uk/news-opinion/news-bfi/features/five-visual-themes-wings-desire-immortal-film-about-watching. Accessed 6 May 2019.

Wenders, Wim (Dir.). Wings of Desire. Perf. Bruno Ganz and Solveig Dommartin. Road Movies, 1987. Accessed 7 May 2019.

Thursday, January 30, 2020

Pushing Past Pessimism by Grace Langella



When going through life, humans have a tendency to be very pessimistic—seeing the negative aspect of things, believing that the worst will happen. Because it is so common for humans to think this way, society has created pessimism to be a norm, not realizing how detrimental it is to prosperity and happiness. Contrary to most, some humans have realized how destructive this way of thinking can be to one’s life; therefore, they have established opposed ways of reasoning which are more optimistic and tend to focus on the confidence and success of the future. With these two opposing views infiltrating the minds of humans, we are able to see the way of thinking one chooses to follow by looking at how they choose to present their ideas, feelings, and opinions. All of the different ways people choose to exemplify their outlook on life can be seen in the films Walkabout, Swept Away, The Gods Must be Crazy, and Wings of Desire. Accurately representing the pessimism and optimism that exist within society, the majority of the films portray a pessimistic point of view, whereas only one represents the optimistic way of thinking. In Walkabout, Swept Away, and The Gods Must be Crazy, we are able to see pessimistic thoughts through the depiction of civilized society, for it is shown as nothing but calamitous and toxic for people trying to reach true happiness. On the contrary, Wim Wenders exemplifies optimistic thoughts in Wings of Desire by giving people a reason to trust that society is exquisite and full of opportunity.



Prohibiting people from reaching great opportunity and living a happy life is something that civilized society seems to constantly do. Because this pessimistic way of thinking is so common, Nicolas Roeg, Jamie Uys, and Lina Wertmüller exemplify the many different ways it is brought to light in society. In Roeg’s Walkabout, viewers are able to get an understanding of how detrimental civilized society can be to one’s prosperity through the experience of a young girl and her little brother as they find themselves stranded in the Australian Outback with no means of survival. As The Boy and Girl venture into an unfamiliar world, they are faced with problems, such as not having water, that expose the inadequacy of intelligence that Western society granted them. 





Acting as a complete burden to the children’s survival, the civilized society that they came from did not prepare them for circumstances that would force them out of their comfort zones and expose them to the unrefined elements of indigenous society. Viewers are able to see how vulnerable the children are as they “trudge along the scorching desert in search of home,” until they eventually meet an Aboriginal boy who takes them under his wing and shows how much more beneficial his knowledge from the Outback is compared to the knowledge the children gained from civilized society (Farajollah, par.2).



Taking a similar approach to Roeg, Jamie Uys exemplifies how destructive civilized society is to one’s prosperity in his film, The Gods Must be Crazy, through the Kalahari Bushmen and their serene lifestyle. As a Coke bottle falls out of the sky, the Bushmen experience something they never have before; with the arrival of this unfamiliar object, they see a disruption of peace within their lives due to the infiltration of civilized society. This disruption of peace becomes evident once the Bushmen realize that the Coke bottle can greatly benefit their way of living, which pushes members to compete for ownership. 






Due to the competition that inevitably starts with the arrival of the Coke bottle, feelings of anger, violence, and hatred begin to form between the Bushmen that once lived in harmony. Through this drastic alteration in behavior, viewers are able to gain a clear understanding that Uys intended to show a pessimistic view of   society by showing how destructive it can be once it gains the attention of people that are unfamiliar to it.



Shining an unfamiliar light on the pessimistic views of civilization in her film Swept Away, Lina Wertmüller exemplifies how destructive the gender roles that exist within Western society are to the cooperation and happiness amongst people. Through Rafaella and Gennarino, viewers are able to see a clear refusal to cooperate due to the idea that a hierarchy exists within society, which restricts them from listening and reasoning with one another.




On the boat, Rafaella sees herself as a powerful woman who has control over Gennarino because she is married to a wealthy man that gets her through life; however, once they get stranded on an island together, there is a shift in power as Gennarino takes advantage of the opportunity to show Rafaella that she is nothing but inferior to him and all other men in society. In order to assert his dominance, Gennarino begins to order Rafaella around, making sure she understands that if she does not follow his orders, she will not receive any food or water to survive on the island. When looking at Gennarino’s disturbing actions on the island, viewers are able to gain a clear understanding of the gender roles that exist within society, causing them to see how disastrous the inequality is to people and their way of living.



For the angels in Wenders’ Wings of Desire, their way of living seems to be very monotonous. Spending their time looking down on humanity, the angels are able to see everything that happens in the real world—including both the good and the bad. Exemplifying the bad that happens in the world, Wenders has most of the film revolve around the Berlin Wall, showing viewers “the desolation of WWⅡ” (Orellana, par.3). In order to contrast the dismal and dull images from such a terrible time in history and shed an optimistic light on society, Wenders includes a very unique angel, Damiel, who “has the great luxury of living out of time, out of pain, and consequently, out of suffering” (Orellana, par.3). 





Although Damiel is gifted with such uncommon privileges and sees “so much human suffering, [he] still [chooses] to join” humanity in order to experience what it is like to be part of the bigger picture (Hannanian, par.8). Through his actions, viewers are able to see how “Damiel minimizes...concerns, looking beyond them to discover a world swelling with affection, beauty, and gratitude” (Farajollah, par.8). Once Damiel is able to fulfill his dream and become mortal, he falls in love and solidifies his reasoning for wanting to end his time as an angel; once in love, Damiel gets “filled with an enormous longing for the small things in life,” and comes to realize “that the ability to love is the greatest gift of mankind, and that as long as there is love, there is nothing better than being alive” (Orellana, par.3).



By having Damiel come to such a great understanding of love and society, Wenders is exemplifying that there is more to the world than the negative and destructive things that are briefly shown in his film, and the three previously mentioned. Yes, Wenders understands that there are societal standards and traditions that leave people feeling lost, unhappy, and dissatisfied, but he also is able to be optimistic and exemplify how exquisite and inspiring life can be.




Being able to realize and understand the beauty in life is something that is not easy; naturally, as humans, we are more inclined to think and talk about our negative experiences rather than enjoy the positive things that we go through. This common approach to life can be seen in the films Walkabout, The Gods Must be Crazy, Swept Away, and Wings of Desire because the majority of the directors choose to show only the negative things in life, whereas, there is only one director that chooses to bring out the brighter points that exist within darkness. The lone director that is able to do so is Wim Wenders, for he “assures viewers that the concerns raised by the former three films are minor compared to life’s inherent beauty” (Farajollah, par.7). Although Wenders’ film may seem unrealistic as an angel becomes a mortal being, it is that angel who is able to “break the social and emotional barriers we create for ourselves, and guide us toward a fuller, deeper, richer existence” (Hannanian, par.8). Through Damiel’s ability to realize the beauty in even the most mundane things in life, viewers, including myself, are able to take a step back, realize the importance of appreciating the little things, and understand that we are our own agent of change. Like Damiel, if we are dissatisfied with the way we are living or the things that are going on around us, we have the power to step up and live a life that shines a positive light on everything—no matter how simple or complex it may be.




Works Cited



Farajollah, Ariana. “It Is the Little Things That Make Life Big.” Taking Giant Steps, 2017, https://giantstepspress.blogspot.com/2017/09/it-is-little-things-that-make-life-big.html



Hannanian, Ariel. “Awakenings Into Adulthood via Wim Wenders.” Taking Giant Steps, 2017, https://giantstepspress.blogspot.com/2017/04/awakenings-into-adulthood-viawim.html



Orellana, Roger. “Why Not Suicide? Reflections on Wenders’ Wings of Desire.” Taking Giant Steps, 2019, https://giantstepspress.blogspot.com/2019/01/why-not-suicide-reflections-on-wenders.html



Roeg, Nicolas. Walkabout. Perf. Jenny Agutter, David Gulpilil, and Luc Roeg. Twentieth Century Fox, 1971. Film.



Uys, Jamie, Director, writer and director. The Gods Must be Crazy.



Wertmüller, Lina (Dir.). Swept Away. Perf. Giancarlo Giannini and Mariangela Melato. Romano Cardarelli, 1974.



Wings of Desire. Dir. Wim Wenders. Perf. Bruno Ganz, Otto Sander. MGM, 1987. Film.


Wednesday, January 30, 2019

Why Not Suicide? Reflections on Wenders’ Wings of Desire by Roger Orellana







Is humankind inherently bad? Even the most optimistic person cannot help but to build a melancholic attitude towards humankind, an almost tangible disappointment. Artists are exceptionally talented at evoking that question through art. Nicolas Roeg’s Walkabout conveys the idea that some people are forever doomed to miscommunicate, consequently devastating any parties involved. Lina Wertmuller’s Swept Away presents the tragedies that occur out of man’s incapability to love. What a shame, one must think, that this entire group which I belong to must be so destructive to itself. Jamie Uys’ The Gods Must Be Crazy, although it is executed as a light-hearted comedy, nevertheless conveys the sad truth of the monster that capitalist man becomes because of his implacable sense of ownership. No, no one must be blamed for being ashamed and severely disillusioned by what has become (and truly, what always has been) of humanity. After viewing humanity tearing itself apart in such monstrous ways, one is placed in the tricky position of hopelessness. Indeed, one may conclude, humanity is a base and filthy thing. But even such claims can be welcomed with cold skepticism. Wim Wenders’ Wings of Desire is the antithesis to this general disillusionment of humanity evoked by the previous films. Wings of Desire is a celebration of the condition of being alive anytime and anywhere.



Once the film is over, the credits commemorate the dead. Wenders dedicated Wings of Desire to three monumental film directors: Yasujiro Ozu, Francois Truffaut, and Andrei Tarkovsky (Wenders 2:04:44). Ozu is one of those directors who teaches how to grow past imperfections and whose excellence is seen through making the simplest of stories into incredible cinematic masterpieces that celebrate life. Roger Ebert, in his film review of Tokyo Story, accurately describes the director: “Ozu is not only a great director but a great teacher, and after you know his films, a friend,” (Ebert, par. 4). Among the aforementioned directors is the great Truffaut, one of the titans of the French New Wave. He went from being a juvenile delinquent to one of the greatest directors in film history. His The Four-Hundred Blows (1959) rescued me from a time of tormenting pessimism by showing me that, although life can be especially hard even for a child, there is always hope for the future. Tarkovsky is a director who influenced so many and yet he refused to be influenced by previous filmmakers. Despite that, his films offer an incredible layer of complexity to life. Tarkovsky’s filmography is not the most cheerful, but it is undeniably beautiful and the images he creates are unforgettable. Andrei Rublev (1966) is an incredible example of Tarkovsky’s views, celebrating art in times of darkness and death. Wenders’ direct influence by those directors indicates a great deal about where his philosophies are oriented. There is a specific pattern in the conclusions of the films of Ozu, Truffaut, and Tarkovsky: they are generally optimistic and demonstrate hope for the future, despite also providing images tough to swallow. Wings of Desire follows that pattern. Wenders demonstrates the darkness that lurks in man’s life but concludes by choosing life over anything. Wenders’ dedication of Wings of Desire to the aforementioned directors indicates that he wishes to continue their legacy of celebrating life through motion pictures.




Wenders also celebrates life through the character of Damiel, the protagonist of Wings of Desire, who is an immortal angel who spends his time on tall skyscrapers observing the unfortunate heirs of the desolation of WWII, the poor Berliners. Damiel has the great luxury of living out of time, out of pain and consequently, out of suffering. Many men would give anything to possess such extraordinary privileges. Moreover, it is also evident that man is bound to the pattern of avoiding suffering and increasing his own happiness. What could be better than not having to worry about suffering? Damiel, the angel, the elevated creature that lives out of time, decides to shed his unique gifts to transform into a human. This would seem like a reversed metamorphosis, the superior creature becoming a lower version of itself, mortal and vulnerable. But Wenders states the opposite by demonstrating that life is worth living, and that it is not irrevocably lost to suffering. After Damiel falls in love, he is filled with an enormous longing for the small things in life. He longs to live as a mortal creature despite witnessing all the chaos and pain of life, because love is such a fulfilling and beautiful feeling, and man can love but an angel cannot. The ability to love, then, becomes man’s greatest gift and most extraordinary faculty, inciting the envy of creatures that are surcease of emotion. Thus, Damiel sheds his immortality to become mortal, feeble, but loving. Wenders concludes Wings of Desire by stating that the ability to love is the greatest gift of mankind, and that as long as there is love, there is nothing better than being alive.




Wenders celebrates life by telling the audience to become proactive and live. Cassiel and Damiel preserve and maintain reality by watching over Berlin before it was even Berlin. They are spectators, voyeurs that observe humans and their struggles. Cassiel and Damiel mimic the viewer of the film. Leigh Singer of the British Film Institute notes that “Ultimately, Wings of Desire is a visionary film about vision: the act of watching, with all its fascinations and limitations,” (Singer, par. 4). The angels, just as the movie-goer, are fascinated in many ways by human conflict, but at the same time are unable to intervene or do anything about the people they come to care about. This is why Cassiel is forever tormented by the man whose suicide he could not prevent. Damiel, however, breaks out of his state of spectatorship to have a place on earth and becomes a human. Damiel becomes proactive and as a consequence he learns to be amazed by the small yet incredible pleasures of everyday life. This transformation into proactiveness is Wenders’ way of calling the audience to action. Essentially, no matter how good cinema and books and our cellphones are, there is a world of life out there, and all the small things are worth experiencing. In this way, Wings of Desire becomes a celebration of life and all the joy that the small things can bring.



It is not uncommon to be severely disillusioned by life. But one can find solace in the fact that people like Wenders can celebrate the good side of life through art, thus persuading us that life is indeed worth living. After being spiritually broken by Walkabout, Swept Away, and The Gods Must Be Crazy, Wings of Desire is like molten gold that joins all the pieces together. Indeed, there are many films that end in an optimistic note, but it is an empty optimism. Wings of Desire ends beautifully by demonstrating that it is man’s capacity to love that make life worth living. I can think of only a handful of films that depict ideas as honest and beautiful as that. Much more can be said in praise of the film that would only repeat what other critics have already said. But this film is undeniably a gift.


Works Cited

Ebert, Roger. “Tokyo Story Movie Review & Film Summary (1953) | Roger Ebert.”         RogerEbert.com, 9 Nov. 2003, www.rogerebert.com/reviews/great-movie-tokyo-story-             1953.

Singer, Leigh. “Five Visual Themes in Wings of Desire – Wim Wenders' Immortal Film about             Watching.” British Film Institute, www.bfi.org.uk/news-opinion/news-bfi/features/five-    visual-themes-wings-desire-immortal-film-about-watching.

Wings of Desire. Dir. Wim Wenders. Perf. Bruno Ganz, Otto Sander. MGM, 1987. Film.

Saturday, November 10, 2018

Build Roads, Don't Just Drive on Them by Victoria Wetmore


Life is a crazy thing. I am not here to preach that living is some magical journey that changes the foundation of society as we know it, but people should take advantage of the life that they have been given. To have the ability to run through valleys, feel the wind in our hair, and breathe the air around us is amazing. The sad part of these hidden blessings is that we are all merely a blip in the existence of the world, yet we are expected to make the most of life. However, if life is so small, then what is the point? What are we here for if, in the relativity of time and space, we are only here for a few seconds? Why are humans expected to make a difference, to be somebody, and to carve our own paths for others to be inspired by? It is because we matter. Our few seconds on Earth make a difference to those who follow simply because we are all connected to one another.

           

In Peter Handke’s poem, “Song of Childhood,” written specifically for Wim Wenders’ 1987 drama/fantasy Wings of Desire, he writes, “...everything is soulful, / and all souls are one” (8-9). Our choices have meaning to those who succeed us; we continue on our journeys laced with the ideas of the ancestors rooted in our heritage, lineage and nation. Even so, the insights and discoveries of our predecessors do not determine how we should act, but they influence the choices that we make today. People are constantly out to be their best, to cope effectively with their existence and to advance human civilization. Hence, there is a constant inner battle with ourselves to be adaptable and to find the ability to make choices that are not stereotypical, biased or pre-determined. 



Personally, I am guilty of competing with others. I grew up believing that if I were not on top, then I was not the best; then again, I often did not show how smart I was to others because that would be showing too much of my hand. I also strived to not deviate from the path that our stereotyped society has created for me. I continued to do the same thing every single daynot because it was habitual but because I was scared to have my homeostasis rocked. In this sense, the character known as The Girl in Nicolas Roeg’s Walkabout is a parallel to a younger me. She did not want to go along with the Aborigine and break the cultural barriers of western civilization in the Australian Outback. The white, British, teenaged foreigner could not accept the advances of the indigenous teenager on his walkabout, nor learn his ways of life simply because they differed from her pre-chosen course. To cope with her decision to remain stagnant in a culture that constrained her, especially when her husband disappointed her, she daydreamed of the freedom that she experienced (Roeg, 1:38:03). 

Her swimming naked in the lake waters in the Outback (Roeg, 0:58:09) symbolizes her inner need to undress from a life that forced her to escape her mad and suicidal father, watch over her younger brother and become a boring housewife. The subconscious voice of the British girl yearned for the independence that her conscious mind could not even begin to understand nor allow. What she was seeking was a mind and life of her own, but she was too brainwashed by thoughts drilled into her of how she should run her life. She, as well as I, should learn to “join with the consciousness of others, not compete with it” (Gordon). 




Afraid to adapt to change, I often fall prey to these inner battles over the smallest of decisions. I do not skip class, but usually contemplate it to the point of having a headache. I do not have the ability to say no to even the simplest of requests because it is in my conditioning to be nice, even if I am swamped with work. I cannot join my friends in these basic teenage activities because I refuse to change my ways. For example, I never argue with my parents’ decisions when receiving a firm no after asking to stay out late with my friends. Usually, I am frightened by the consequences that would come from the potential fight, but in my mind what they say goes.  When I wish for a better way to grasp what is thrown at me, I go to my oasis, my waterhole, where I can swim freely. This metaphorical lake is the television. My favorite programs calm me down and allow me briefly to live a different life. If I picture myself in the shows, then I am not in reality. Despite this, as we all know, The Girl and I have not found a way out; we have simply developed coping mechanisms to blind us from the harsh reality that we refuse to change. 

           

However, there are ways to push past these “fixed” boundaries. Our “writing coach and midwife,” Paul Kirpal Gordon, suggests we create and develop three interconnected and interdependent experiences that check and balance each other. The first is a healthy love relationship with a significant other. If we are all supposed to be one collective soul, then we require healthy, quality human exchanges that help us sustain a love life and vital connection with the person we care most deeply about. To have someone to come back to at the end of the day who cares about you just as much as you care about them is one of the most beneficial things that the human mind, body and soul can have. Studies show, “From childhood until old age, being connected to others in secure and loving relationships helps our patients better deal with stress” (Vallas, par. 7). The second part of this model is to develop a dependable and inspiring core of friends, family and associates who one can trust with one’s deepest issues, fears and ambitions. Having peers to talk to or a supporting family life helps to keep a clear and focused mind and heart. Thirdly, one must discover on one’s own walkabout what one wants to do with one’s life in terms of a meaningful career, vocation and service to others. The Girl thought that she had to follow the predetermined path of compliant schoolgirl, responsible older sister, snobbish foreigner and obedient wife in the overbearing land of stereotypes and comfort, but she really wanted to break free of the chains of civilized man. The longing look of regret in her eyes at the end of the film (Roeg, 1:38:18) portrays her lack of independence and her yearning to return to the freedom that the Outback allowed. 


I want to establish my own path in advertising and become somebody who I can love and respect, not some plastic doll that my parents can dress into whatever career they think will earn me the most money. 

           

When I and The Girl escape to our imaginative states, we miss out on what reality presents to us, especially the people, things and events that can enlarge our perspectives on life. Coming into college, I had to learn to re-train my senses in order to experience Hofstra University because it is anything but a typical college. Here, there is the inclusion of all races, genders and backgrounds, as well as clubs and support groups that welcome us with open arms. In my town of Brick, New Jersey, such an impartial and non-judgmental community does not exist. Hofstra’s diverse and international community of individuals feels like several indigenous societies brought together into one spot, which has allowed me to immerse myself in an environment of change. It is not a place where I can pretend to be someone else for a little while; it is an environment that is molding me into who I really want to be: a decisive, determined, contributing part of a collective society. 



In order to make my engagement into a true community happen, I have to drop my old ideas about status and labels and categories that do not allow me to explore all the possibilities thrown my way. Lina Wertmuller’s controversial Swept Away helped with this part of my journey. Her two main Italian protagonists, Raffaella and Gennarino, become stranded on a deserted island together. In such a circumstance, one would think that differences would be set aside as survival becomes the imperative mindset of both castaways. Instead, Raffaella could not drop her upper-class ego to allow the lower-class ruffian Gennarino to help her. Her mistreatment of his help on the yacht fueled the fire that metaphorically burned the bridge for a true connection. Both protagonists allowed their social status and political views to constrict their lives on the island. They had the potential to break the norm and join together to construct a love relationship or mutual friendship, sans any previous connections of wealth and class. Nonetheless, trouble emerges when Gennarino starts bullying Raffaella who soon succumbs to Stockholm Syndrome. As described in Ariana Farajollah’s blog post, “An Abused Woman’s Colonization and Declaration of Independence in Swept Away,” “Mental disorder therapist Julia Layton describes the cause of the syndrome: ‘In a traumatic and extraordinarily stressful event, a person finds herself held captive by a man who is threatening to kill her if she disobeys him in any way. She may be abused — physically, sexually and/or verbally — and have trouble thinking straight’” (Farajollah, par. 2). Simply put, the two protagonists tricked themselves into believing that they had a true connection while on the island. However, when they return to the mainland, the stigma of class and status reappear, and they revert back to their own ways. Raffaella ditches Gennarino for her upper-class husband and his wealth. 

   

The idea that status controls us and inhibit who we can be with is preposterous but tragic. It cuts off the idea that we are all one and of the same place. This persisting issue of ranking falls in line with my own personal problem: I did not want to set aside my intentions of being on top. Nevertheless, if I were to stick to this framework, I would constantly be on this high horse that made me believe that I was better than the people around me. Consequently, entertaining this delusional state of mind would only be limiting my own growth and interpretation of the world. Since entering college, my antennae has allowed me to reach those in need of not only academic help but social assistance, too. I no longer attempt to be the best; instead, I use my tools to benefit others around me. Hence, I am more open to share my thoughts and ideas that used to be secretive. I use my school work to benefit others and to try new things that a younger, hesitant me could not think of doing. I dropped my own stereotypes and have since benefitted morally from the change.



I realized that to enhance my intellectual and moral growth I need to stop ignoring topics I do not fully comprehend. In fact, an obtuse, head-in-the-sand lifestyle can create these differences that further the disconnect gap that I am struggling to close. In order to become a better and more well-rounded individual, I am learning things that help me to better comprehend a larger world, not just things that relate to my public relations major. For example, I am all for mathematics, but I draw the line just at extreme problems that require four sheets of paper to complete. Similarly, I enjoy debating on politics, but I have no control over what the country or the world does, nor do I feel like my ideas fit directly into one political party.     



What I have learned is that every single person has the right to enjoy things that I do not. After all, my ability to accept those differences and participate in life with those who have contrasting ideas from me is what makes us all one. The concept that we can all be connected, no matter our personal beliefs, is something stronger than we are able to perceive. Jamie Uys portrayed this mindset in The Gods Must Be Crazy, in which an indigenous bushman of the Kalahari Desert, Xi, came across a Coke bottle. The piece of glass that was once seen as useful to the tribe was actually the catalyst that created the dispute in the community and eventually drew them apart. Although I agree with removing toxic things from our lives, I do not agree with Xi’s decision to travel to the end of the earth to rid his band of people from this new item. He did not like the disagreement that the bottle caused within the tribe, even though it was a tool that helped to roll out animal skins, make music, and other various tasks. Instead of attempting to regulate the use of the bottle or understand more about it, he threw it away. I tend to handle my problems with information that I do not care about nor comprehend the same way. The bushmen and I should learn how to open ourselves to appreciating the differences between those with thoughts that differ from our original ideologies. Just because we are from different places does not mean that we should be blind to the way others function; “spiritually we are one,” (Enea) but “we are different people who form part of a bigger group called mankind, which makes us one” (Orellana). I have begun to grow as a person by listening to ideas different than my own, and I associate myself with people I originally would have put off after the first meeting. I have gained a new set of eyes. After watching Uys’ film, I connected more profoundly with the idea that we are all one. Rather than seeing ourselves as animals in competition with one another, we are cooperative beings who share the same prerogative to experience the best lives that we can.

In a world where there is so much miscommunication and discrepancy, an imaginary force holds us back. We are closed off because we are blocking out the peripheral vision sensors that we are born with, which prohibits us from seeing the small things and appreciating what is right in front of us. It also lessens our desire to be content with what we have because we always have to be on top with the next best gadget. Although we have the freedom of choice to do what we want, when we want, and with whomever we choose, Walkabout, Swept Away and The Gods Must Be Crazy all portray what happens when we do not break the stereotypes that limit us, when we pretend to be something we are not and when we fail to adapt to change. In Wim Wenders’ Wings of Desire, angel Damiel drops these notions when he falls in love with a mortal. In what world would an angel be able to follow their heart to take human form in order to be with their mortal lover? Most people watching the film would say, “Never,” but that is because we are so blocked by pre-determined characteristics and the illusion that things are magically set in stone. Well, stones break and crumble. Damiel chooses to give up angelic immortality to know what it is like to love and experience the world first hand. As fellow “fallen” angel Peter Falk advises him, Damiel comes to appreciate the small things, like drinking coffee, bleeding, seeing color and tasting food. He celebrates hope. Fellow writer and Hofstra student blogger Monica Boretsky noted in “Wim Wenders’ Wings of Desire: A Reason to Believe,” “Damiel has a visible reaction of joy and contentment. His face eases up and clearly experiences the full sensation that many people have overlooked” (par. 2). Damiel broke out of the mold in order to join life instead of standing outside of it. We do not always understand that we have the ability to control our own fates. 

 

I have recently been immersed in an environment that has caused me to follow my career ambition and become the best person that I can possibly be, inside and out. I can make choices that benefit me, no matter the original preconceptions that I once had. For example, just because I am straight does not mean that I cannot have LGBTQ+ friends or learn from their experiences; I am female, but that does not mean I have to stay in the kitchen and cook for a man or stay out of the billiards room at Hofstra because the other pool players are male (see “The Art of the Real Hustle,” February 12, 2018, Taking Giant Steps Press Blog). Who says I have to remain quiet and timid when I was born with my own mouth to speak freely about feminism and equal rights? My own mind allows me to conjure up my own opinions and formulate my own lifestyle that transcends any and all stereotypes. Attending Hofstra University has done wonders for my growth and for expanding my mindset to a whole new level. I want to be myself! “Why lie and cheat when you have the confidence to be yourself?” (Gordon). I am tired of trying to be someone that I am not just to please the people around me. I am sick of the assumptions that make people believe they must be different or better than everyone else. Breaking those boundaries has expanded my comfort zone. In an attempt to network properly and get ahead for the years to come, I have found myself growing closer to students in my major. I am the person in charge of determining what happens with my life. 



I struggled to make friends when I first entered the university. I wandered around campus and introduced myself to the folks at the ultimate frisbee table. They made me feel accepted. When I attended their scrimmage, I was immersed in kindness and felt a communion with all of their wild spirits. I did not feel the need to be different or change who I was in order to be accepted. In this moment, I also realized that this is a group of people who do not judge anybody. They also played together as seven cogs in one cohesive machine, as opposed to seven individuals on a field. This type of comradery is what proved to me that this was the form of society that I needed to be a part of in order to thrive. 



In an attempt to get to my goal of being in advertising faster, I joined the Public Relations Student Society of America (PRSSA). I wanted to get a head start. I learned that I have to make my own path in order to get to where I want, not expect things to just fall in my lap. If I want to make it in this field, I must learn to work together with people, for being part of a team and acting as one is an important skill to have in this work setting. Damiel’s tenacity is exactly what I need to develop in order to stay strong in the business field. Handke’s message that we are all one is what reels me back if I lose the teamwork model. My seventh-grade teacher, a man who taught me more about myself at the age of twelve than I have learned in my other eighteen years of existence, presented me with this quote: “Learning is not attained by chance; it must be sought for with ardor and attended to with diligence” (Founding Families). Abigail Adams wrote this to her son, John Quincy Adams, telling him that wandering is not the way to traverse through life. He has to be focused and know what he wants (which relates back to the three ideas for love-friends-career). Wenders takes this idea and flips it on its head, for it shows the journey of an angel, of a spirit, searching for something that transforms him. Damiel is on the hunt for love, for feeling, for something real; he is done with the business of watching and witnessing. Peter Handke’s idea that “all souls are one” influences Damiel’s decisions, for he does not let the fact that he is an angel stop him from loving a mortal and incarnating that dream. 



I am still learning to not let the preconceived notions of society weigh me down and make me feel trapped and unable to make my own choices. I have been on this journey for a long time and do not expect to stop when times get tough. Even though we are “of the same root but different flowers” (Gordon), we are soulfully one and have to remember that, under the umbrella of gender, sex, color, race, creed or religion, the sun shines equally on us all. Before college, I was in a town that was set in its old ways. After entering Hofstra University, I have been welcomed by individuals who see the world as a place to interpret thoughts and ideas for ourselves, rather than following a map that has already been written out. Perhaps it is better to deviate from those pre-written directions once in a while. I mean, what is a true adventure without getting lost a bit? While a good majority of rules should be followed, it is not up to our old stereotypes and predisposed information to determine our destinies. Instead, I am learning to figure things out for myself. I have even found joy in activities like writing and arts and crafts that I never found excitement in before college. These new experiences allow us to be unique and individualistic, but it is the same idea that we all want to be ourselves that make us all one. I am happy to report that I am going in the right direction and have Hofstra University and all of the people that I have met thus far to thank for it. 




Works Cited

Boretsky, Monica. “Wim Wenders' Wings of Desire: A Reason to Believe,” 






Enea, Kristen. Class Discussion. 18 Apr. 2018.



Farajollah, Ariana. Taking Giant Steps. "An Abused Woman's Colonization and Declaration of 

            Independence in Swept Away," 1 Jan. 1970, 






Founding Families: Digital Editions of the Papers of the Winthrops and the Adamses, ed.C. 

James Taylor. Boston: Massachusetts Historical Society, 2018.

            http://www.masshist.org/apde2/

.

Gordon, Paul Kirpal. Class Discussion. 18 Apr. 2018.



Orellana, Roger. Class Discussion. 18 Apr. 2018.



“The Positive Effects of Love on Mental Health.” Psychiatry Advisor, 11 Mar. 2016, 


            h/article/401655/.



Roeg, Nicolas. Walkabout. Perf. Jenny Agutter, David Gulpilil, and Luc Roeg. Twentieth 

Century Fox, 1971. Film.