The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015. Remaining movies: 20 Days to go: 16
Movie #420: The Shawshank Redemption
What is the measure of a man? What makes up someone’s humanity? Is a prisoner less of a man because he’s in prison? The Shawshank Redemption looks into the hearts and souls of men, and finds the things that make us human, that make our lives worthy, despite the mistakes we make or the tragedies that befall us. Even Red (Morgan Freeman), “the only guilty man in Shawshank,” is portrayed as a man, not a monster. He’s committed a murder in his past, but that doesn’t make him any less human than anyone else.
Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins) is sent to Shawshank Prison in 1947 for a crime he didn’t commit, so the injustices he suffers seem all the more horrific because he didn’t “deserve” them. The question The Shawshank Redemption asks, though, is, does anyone? Would the atrocities committed against Andy by Bogs (Mark Rolston) or the warden (Bob Gunton) or Hadley (Clancy Brown) be any less awful if they were committed against Red, who we know was guilty? Is it any more deserving what happens to Tommy (Gil Bellows), since he’s a career criminal? Or does every man in prison still deserve to be treated like a human being, with decent food and access to books and the opportunity to better themselves? Doesn’t every man in prison deserve the right to do his time without the threat of rape or beatings or torture or death? These are people, after all, not monsters.
There are monsters living in Shawshank prison, of course, just as there are monsters everywhere. The walls of the prison are irrelevant, especially since most of the monsters that terrorize the place are the guards who get to go home every night. And the fact that Andy sees a form of justice awarded to each of his tormentors can feel a little too neat for a story this complex. It’s satisfying as hell, but the parts of the movie I love most are when Andy fights not for justice, but for his own humanity. The entire arc about the building of the library, about Andy’s stubborn perseverance to bring books and culture to the prison, is one of my favorites of the entire film, not just for the way he championed individuals like Tommy, but for the way he truly enriched everyone around him. The scene when he plays the opera record over the PA system is gorgeous and moving, and all time seems to stop as everyone across the grounds looks up at the speakers and stares. I can almost feel my breath catch as I watch it, soaking in the transporting beauty of the cinematic vision of the scene coalescing with the uplifting audio.
One of the other more thoughtful, poignant themes of the film is that of institutionalization, and how the mere act of being imprisoned for most of your life can take your humanity, your freedom, your life right out of you. Imagine spending forty years of your life in prison, as Red does. Imagine what that does to your soul, to say nothing of the culture shock of trying to rejoin a world that’s completely passed you by. Forty years ago, Elvis was still alive and there was no such thing as Star Wars. For the forty years Red was at Shawshank — or even the nineteen Andy spent there — the world went through drastic cultural shifts, to say nothing of the technological advancements. Entering a world like that with no preparation or opportunity for adjustment would be confusing at best, and likely terrifying. (Which accounts for so much recidivism — a return to crime that both Red and Brooks, played by James Whitmore, contemplate as an alternative to living in a place that no longer makes sense to them.) That’s why I think Andy’s push for holding on to old habits, like his rock collecting and Red’s harmonica, are so important. Those things keep you hopeful. Those things keep you going. Those things keep you alive. “Get busy living, or get busy dying.”
The Shawshank Redemption is one of my very favorite movies, but I don’t think I ever watched it at all in the ’90s, the decade it was released. I came to it much later, I’m not sure how or when, but it’s become one of those films I could watch literally on a loop all day long. (I know this because AMC used to play it over and over, one showing after the next, for an entire day, and I could just leave the TV on that channel without ever getting bored.) It’s beautifully shot and directed, and absolutely wonderfully acted (and I never really liked Tim Robbins before this), but it’s always the story that sticks with me and pushes me forward. Make something of yourself, yes, but never lose sight of the things that make you human. We all need those.
Viable Option 