Catharsis

"When a cat falls out of a tree, it lets go of itself. The cat becomes completely relaxed, and lands lightly on the ground. But if a cat were about to fall out of a tree and suddenly make up its mind that it didn't want to fall, it would become tense and rigid, and would be just a bag of broken bones upon landing." Alan Watts, What is Tao?

When all I've done all day is careen from one stressful episode to the next, I like thinking about this falling cat, letting go of itself as it falls. The trick, I guess, is to remember it at the time it's most important to remember it, and not after I've already hit the ground.

So after a long working day, I tumbled into the cinema thinking a movie about a hardened, stubborn ex-boxer reluctantly supporting a determined woman in her early thirties as she struggles to become a professional boxer would be just the feelgood, formulaic viewing I needed. Having not read any reviews of Million Dollar Baby, I sank back into my seat to let an apparently non-taxing story of the virtues of hard slog winning out over adversity absorb me in the blandest way.

I didn't reckon on yet another emotional rollercoaster ride. The film packs a devastating emotive punch right in the stomach and heart. Clint Eastwood as the gruff and disillusioned trainer, Morgan Freeman as his world-weary friend and employee, and my new hero Hilary Swank as the purposeful boxer all turn out beautifully measured performances that have you feeling deeply for each one as the relationships between them slowly develop.

Then the plot turned unexpectedly darker and deeper moral questions began to challenge us. By the end, I was bawling my eyes out and experienced complete catharsis.

On the tube home, I read in the Evening Standard that Hilary Swank put on 19lbs of muscle for the role by consuming 12 egg whites a night and training 4 hours a day. Her boxing scenes are brutal and bloody, and the moment when Eastwood snaps her nose into place so she can go on fighting in the middle of a match had my usually non-squeamish self wincing.

William Butler Yeats is the wizened trainer's favourite poet, and the New York Times (registration required) thinks this poem, The Apparitions, sums both the character and the film up perfectly:

"When a man grows old his joy
Grows more deep day after day,
His empty heart is full at length
But he has need of all that strength
Because of the increasing Night
That opens her mystery and fright."

A magnificent movie, but bring a box of tissues.

Other links today:
+ Scroogle Scraper. Google without the ads.
+ Why the sun seems to be dimming
+ How TrackBack works
+ What Yahoo used to look like
+ Hack iPod into iPod Shuffle in three easy steps!
+ 50 strategies for making yourself work. For writers, but useful advice for everyone.