Thoughts on Collateral

I watched Collateral (Tom Cruise, Jamie Foxx) again today. To me it's kind of strangely a good movie. This time it made me think a bit, and I wonder if that's not what at least one of the purposes was for it.

Bad begets bad. When the actions of a life have leaned toward the ugly, even well-intentioned acts of badness will be bad. There is a moment in the movie where the hired killer shoots a cop that had been trying to help the taxi driver. It was an act of kindness—to the killer—a noble act, a saving of the taxi driver's life. But no matter his intentions, the result was tragic and unhelpful. To have truly committed a noble act, to truly have saved the man's life, he should have walked away and killed no more.

He who lives by the sword dies by the sword. It's a Hollywood twist, perhaps, but in the end (spoiler alert) the killer is killed. And for the first time, and I don't know why this triggered it, I thought of the word "lives." It made me wonder whether perhaps he who defends another life once by the sword would not die by the sword. That is to say, is living by violence what kills the violent? Perhaps it is more a matter of the heart than I had realized. Perhaps it is he who has made his life around killing and hurting who will be hurt and killed in the end, and another, who must kill to defend or save, for example, will live a long life and die of old age.

"If a man dies on the 17B line, will anyone notice?" the killer asks in the end (or something very much like it). The question brings the viewer full circle to a story he told nearer the beginning, of a man who died on the train and remained unnoticed for six hours. In my mind, it was his way of asking, "Is my life really suddenly ending without leaving a single good mark in the world?" He didn't think life was very valuable, but when his was over... he wasn't so sure. It is a sobering question. It is a reminder to us not to allow ourselves to reach that point without asking what meaning we can give to life. We are not just a blip in space, two men in a taxi.

Our actions have collateral damage. Or collateral good. I suppose it's up to us to decide which we believe in. I believe God is good. I've not lived well in accordance with that belief during my life, but I'm trying to remind myself of it more often. I believe it's a good central point. I believe it's a strong foundation. I believe that even when I do not live up to the good I could live to, that, even in my lowest or most hurtful moments, I can point to Him and His goodness. The question will be, will the person next to me be willing to look where I point? Will my failures as a human dissuade him or her, or will my repentance allow them freedom to see? Will my successes as a human persuade him or her, or will my arrogance prevent them freedom to see?

It was just a movie. Just a made-up story, full of action sequences, tight shots, high-intensity music, and careful coloring, not to mention all the other cinematic things I'm completely unacquainted with. But I guess I feel it's better to reflect on it and risk publishing some cliché thoughts than just treat it as another blank spot in my memory. So here's to living a life of good.

Let them be

original alt text: "I hate when people take photos of their meal instead of eating it, because there's nothing I love more than the sound of other people chewing."

I think I've been one to flip-flop between these two ideas, and reading this swung me toward the let-them-photograph side because it makes a lot of sense. Especially, perhaps, for someone like myself.


Does having the ability to photograph an experience make my memory less strong? Perhaps. I have been one to say that. But it also means I can look back on that experience, literally. It means I can share it with others with more than stumbling words. It means I go and search for more similar experiences. And it means when I do forget it, I can find it again.


So, it's true, there will probably always be people taking more pictures than they need to and who are forgetting what is in front of them, but may we let them be. Most of us just want a picture, of an experience, that we want to remember, because it is special.