My husband is ruining all my childhood favorite movies.
It’s not his fault, not really. It’s not even something he does, or says, the majority of the time. (And when he does say something, it's insightful and right on.) He actually quite enjoys most of my movies and willingly sits
down to watch them with me. But, the fact is, my amazing husband is Korean. (Well, Korean, Canadian, American, with a hint of Singaporean and Swedish... but Korean by blood). And so, by his very existence sitting next to me, he has changed
the lens through which I see the films.
Take Christmas movies. In high school I decided that I’d watch certain
movies every year, and bought them to take with me to college. I had no
idea how helpful this would be in maintaining a semblance of tradition
when I moved to warm North Carolina for my first teaching job, then
tropical Tanzania with no snow in sight, and hot season in full force.
These movies were an escape to a normal, a sense of comfort, a piece of sanity
when everything else was different.
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| Caroling in East Africa, finding and making "snow," and pretending it was cold... |
And each place I went, I realized
something new. References to North Carolina in White Christmas when
there’s no snow, for instance. Or listening to Kris sing "Sinterklaas kapoentje" in Dutch after having missionary kid students from the Netherlands
celebrating these same traditions in front of me. The added perspective
made them more dear to my heart and the season I watched them in.
But, take Miracle on 34th Street. The version worth watching, in black and white, from 1947.
Do you recall that the only non-white person in the entire movie is the
cook/house help in the main character’s apartment?
Or White Christmas. Singing, dancing, Bing Crosby Christmas classics
galore. How can you go wrong? But sitting next to someone who didn’t
grow up with it, I saw a war that impacted his family and birth country in very different ways
than mine. Questions of why something was happening. And again, every
single person in sight is white. Because apparently in this part of
American history, no one but white people were present. In the war, at
the railway station, at the inn… anywhere.
We still watch these movies every year, and have added many others.
(Elf, anyone?!?) But as we sat down tonight to watch Anastasia for the
first time in years (me) and for the first time ever (SM), we weren’t
just struck by the oddity of seeing it set in Russia with the recent (and on-going)
global events. My designer-husband’s only comments were about
the amazing quality of the animation way back when it was made in '97. But again, here’s a movie I watched numerous times with friends
in high school and got lost in the story, the music, the drama. And now,
after having lived overseas and grown in understanding of cultures, I
find myself unable to simply get lost again. My mind analyzes and sees
the story through a new lens. A non-American, non-white, less-naive
lens. (And one much more grounded in the Bible - my, this movie is dark!)
A lot of the movies we watch together have all (or mostly all) Caucasian characters, and we continue to
watch them. In part, because they’re what we call classics, they offer a perspective of American culture, and we both
enjoy them. Little Women. Pride and Prejudice. Singing in the Rain.
(Interspersed between the Mandalorian, Star Wars, San Andreas, Arrival,
Abominable, and plenty of other favorites, of course!) There’s not a lot of options,
unfortunately, from those years to watch that include races besides Caucasians. (Well, except for the kung fu movies my husband loves… but
while I don’t mind a good battle in a movie, I also really appreciate a
good story line somewhere along the way, too! ;). Plus, my mostly-mono-lingual brain appreciates movies in English. With happy endings.*) But, just like my
search for books that represent multiple skin tones and perspectives and
ethnicities, I find myself removed from being fully immersed in the
stories of what I’d call the classics I grew up with.
In some ways, it’s sad to lose that immersive quality. Movies for me are
often an escape, a chance to dive into a story that’s not my own and
experience life from a different point of view. But honestly, the reason
I’ve lost this immersion is because I now know too much. I can’t say I understand what non-Caucasian individuals experience in America. But I
sure do know what it feels like to be the odd white person in an
all-black culture. I’ve watched the racism my in-laws endure in Canada,
and have seen the looks we’ve gotten in Vancouver as an inter-racial couple. Nothing that I wouldn't expect, sadly, but there none-the-less. I prep myself
and pray for our beautiful mixed-heritage kids and wonder what life will be like for them
growing up. And I know without a doubt that I’m thankful for the ways
the world is slowly (albeit oh so slowly) working towards embracing
people of different nationalities and skin colors not just in real life,
but also on the screen.
*Have you WATCHED any Korean movies? I swear they find the worst, most
depressing option for an ending and say “yay! Let’s do it” I finish
every Korean movie with a list of 3 possible alternate endings that
would make everything work out happily for everyone. But apparently that’s not important. I,
on the other hand, am still American enough to want everything to work
out. Because, did I mention movies are an escape for me? Who wants to
escape to a dystopian? There’s enough tragedy in the real world to cover
that perspective - I want to know sometimes things actually work out in
the end. In addition to Revelation, of course!
