Fender Bender
“What would you do if you only had a few months left to live?”
My good friend SA, the structural engineer, shrugs and says, “I don’t know, but I don’t like some of the messages in the movie.”
“I loved the movie! It was poignant and thought-provoking,” counters TJ, the beautiful Googler we’re trying to set up with SA.
I’m clinging to a thin strand of hope that opposites indeed attract, but it’s not looking good for my already dismal matchmaking record.
We are coming out of a last minute Sundance Film Festival screening of The Guitar, a beautifully produced film by Amy Redford. The movie wrestles with the question – What would you change about your life if you faced imminent death? With stunningly intimate imagery and a moving soundtrack, the story follows a blue collar New Yorker named Mel, played by Saffron Burrows, as she learns of her terminal cancer and her subsequent efforts to cope. Her journey is a meandering mélange of moments of great sorrow, joy, loneliness, defiance, euphoria, and freedom.
“What didn’t you like about the movie?” TJ asks incredulously.
“Something wasn’t right. Plus I could’ve sworn those were San Francisco streets we saw in the movie,” replies SA.
“Big cities are all the same in a visceral sort of way,” I remark.
The problem is Mel’s answer to the central question of the movie. She changes her entire life by moving out of her old, dingy apartment and into a spacious and unaffordable loft. She abandons her senses and inhibitions (oftentimes a good thing) and discovers the joys of over-the-limit credit card shopping. She orders a luxurious bed, designer sofas and lamps, gourmet food for delivery, and most importantly, a magnificent Fender guitar. Mel eventually maxes out her credit limit on a dozen cards with no intentions of ever paying back her responsibility as she nears her impending death.
“That scene in her loft when she’s alone and playing her guitar in front of those gigantic concert speakers and crying…that was powerful. There is nothing quite like the sound of a great electric guitar. The total release of all her emotions…wow,” I exclaim.
“Yeah, that was an amazing scene,” says TJ.
“Yeah, I thought that was pretty good,” says SA.
There you go buddy, agreeing with her every once in a while wouldn’t hurt your case. Maybe this weekend might end on a high note after all with my two friends getting together.
Mel finds great happiness in finally surrounding herself with objects of her desire. The guitar, especially, leads her to a trembling catharsis. But is that the best way to go out? Isn’t what she does a little, if not a lot, selfish? Is the best way to exit the stage by taking as much as one can? What happened to giving all of one’s self as the candle burns out? The most heroic stories I know involve brave souls facing certain death with newfound generosity, giving of all their time and money to making other people happy.
“What would you do Allan?” ask TJ and SA as we walk toward the parking lot.
“I’d charge a Ferrari and drive forever.”
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