Philosophy, Film, and Fifty

It has taken nearly three years, but the movie My Dinner with Andre finally made its way to the top of our netflix cue. One time, about four years ago, Gillian and I tried to rent it from a video store in Seattle and were told we'd have to leave a $300 deposit so we left the DVD on the counter and I was left trying to explain to my then twenty -one year old daughter what the movie was "about." I gave up, simply saying, it's two theatre artists, Wallace Shawn and Andre Gregory talking about art and the meaning of life over dinner in a restaurant in New York with a craggy- faced French waiter occasionally ease dropping as he serves them.

Hmmm....a $300 deposit for that, huh?

This weekend, as Steve and I eased our way into our first full weekend on our own, we nestled down in our den with a fire burning in the fireplace and demitasse cups of espresso with a twist of lemon to watch the long sought film.

It did not disappoint.

I found myself grinning from ear to ear through most of it, listening to Gregory's self-absorbed account of his journey toward spiritual and artistic awakening as he explored avant garde theatrical exercises in Grotowski's Polish forest, revelations in Scotland's Findhorn Community and ate sand with a Buddhist monk in Antoine de Saint Exupery's Sahara. Wallace Shawn's flat, expressionless face and internal monologue bordering on vocal hysteria with his high pitched laugh and eventual confession to not knowing what Gregory was talking about had me laughing out loud.

Gregory's oh so serious search, his various epiphanies along the way and his artistic struggle as a director seemed to me, at fifty, to capture the earnest narcissum that consumes the theatre artist. The genius of My Dinner with Andre is how it weaves a monologue and conversational threads for nearly two hours eventually leading to a subtle collision of world views on the question of reality and meaning, coincidence and serendipity, privilege and survival. While the conversation does not lead to any great climactic turning point, the dynamic exchange leaves Wallace Shawn seeing and appreciating his life in his native New York through the window of a taxi cab and the viewer all the richer for having been a guest at the table.

Not to be outdone, the next night, we watched the When Nietsche Wept. It was an interesting juxtaposition to My Dinner with Andre. While this film derives its story from the relationship between the great philosopher and the father of the "talking cure", Freud's mentor Josef Breurer, the underlying theme was not so different from Andre Gregory's search for a meaningful life.
Two lines from the film struck me.

"Isolation lives only in isolation. Once shared, it disappears." I couldn't help but think how I have seen this very truth unfold as writers share the stories of their lives, unburdening themselves and bringing to light that which has been buried deep within their psyche. The unexpressed often holds us a prisoner in our own isolation.

The other line that hit me was, "If you don't take possession of your goals, you live your life as an accident." While there may be at the center of this belief the question of controlling one's destiny, the overriding truth in this statement is a strong argument for seizing one's life and setting a compass.

Finally this morning, I opened the LA Times to read that the venerable metaphysical bookstore, The Bodhi Tree, is up for sale. A sign that we have moved past the new-age hype of the 1980's into a different time. The bookstore's owners acknowledged that through the search they don't feel they have found the secret to anything other than the most important thing in life is family and relationships.

At fifty, I've had my share of spiritual epiphanies and have a bookcase full of self-help and metaphysical books, some of which came from The Bodhi Tree. I am grateful for having the perspective that whatever form the search takes - the journey often leads back to the simple truth that it's all about relationship. Andre Gregory realizes that his marriage to his wife is all that matters. Wallace Shawn goes home to his girlfriend, Debbie. Josef Breuer embraces his home and family after a hypnotic journey and confrontation with obsession. And Bodhi Tree owner, Phil Thompson says, "I have an ordinary life and feel good about it most of the time."

Me too. It was a good weekend at home. Just the two of us.