'Magnolia' and the power of forgiveness

And if you do not let them go, I shall unleash a plague of frogs upon you. — Exodus 8:2

My favorite film of all time is Paul Thomas Anderson's "Magnolia." I decided this about halfway through watching it the first time, and it was confirmed over and over during the second half. With a running time of about three hours, that's a lot of confirmations.

What also gives me joy is that it is such a polarizing film. I know good, smart people that absolutely hate it. It's not "Titanic." It's not all things to all people. In fact, there are many films that I would rather watch over and over again. I can only really get into "Magnolia" about once a year. I could probably watch "When Harry Met Sally ..." every day.

But many films are harmless. They are classics and unforgettable and harmless. "Magnolia" is not that at all. I don't expect to ever see it on TNT in place of the endless marathon of "Shawshank Redemption," a film which I also love. "Magnolia" will likely be filed away, only to be brought out as filler for a Tom Cruise retrospective. That suits me just fine.  

What is interesting is that 11 years after it was first released, I appreciate it on a different level than I did when I first saw it. Back then, I was amazed by the artistry, the unconventional stories, the melodrama, the over-the-top-ness of it all, but most of all, for wearing its heart on its sleeve. Now, when I see it again, I understand everything I loved before, but I also see the desperate need for forgiveness that each of the characters possess. It's not that this was hidden. In fact, it's the primary motive for everyone in the movie, but when you come to a point in your life where forgiveness is asked for on a daily basis, certain themes in films you like tend to be highlighted a bit more often.

For the uninitiated, "Magnolia" takes place in Los Angeles in the late 1990s, and it revolves around a large group of seemingly random suburbanites who deal with their daily lives unaware that there are forces beyond their control, God or the fates ... or frogs. But we'll get to that.

There is the game show host who cheats on his wife and may have molested his daughter. The daughter is now a drug addict whose lifestyle has brought her in contact with a police officer, who is good at his job but prefers to look past her indiscretions because he just wants someone to be in love with. The game show has two contestants, one current boy, who is being used by his father because of his extensive knowledge, and one former one, whose popularity is dried up along with his winnings. His need for braces is not mandatory, and the revelation on why he wants them is heartbreaking and sweet. The game show is part of a media empire owned by a dying man, whose second wife may look to be a trophy but who is going through her own personal hell. The man's caretaker finds his long lost son, a motivational speaker who wants nothing to do with the man who abandoned him and his mother years before. So are we all caught up?

The set up sounds depressing. It's not. These are not happy people, but they are alive, and the film is as well. Anderson, whose best known work is "Boogie Nights" and who popularized the now-famous phrase, "I drink your milkshake," is nothing if not daring. His directing is one of style as well as substance. This film is long, and it does not have any car chases or explosions, but the time flies because the film is constantly building toward several emotional climaxes. This is the big screen version of Barber's "Adagio For Strings." 

And then there are the frogs. This is usually the moment that divides most people who watch the film. As we chug toward some form of conclusion, only minutes from the end, one frog falls out of the sky. And then another ... and another ... and then a huge wave. They wreak havoc all over the city. They cause one man to fall and break his face. They cause another to botch a suicide attempt. It is scary and dramatic ... and yes, a bit funny. And then it is over. This should not have been entirely unexpected. For most of the movie, references are made to the event. During the beginning of the game show, a man holds up an "Exodus 8:2" sign. Random 8's and 2's pop up throughout, whether they be on playing cards or weeds or weather forecasts.

For those non-believers, there is the science of the event. If you choose to believe that God did not send down the frogs, you can point to several events in modern history that could explain it. There are many instances where violent thunderstorms can suck up amphibians over a pond and deposit them miles away. In that case, foreshadowing is also provided by the scuba diver who was sucked into the airplane and deposited over a forest at the beginning of the movie.

Where most people get upset is that something so random could affect an otherwise realistic film. It may be that people want their reality in one box and their fantasy in another. If they are going to see "The Blind Side," they don't want a Transformer showing up in the middle of it. I understand that.

I see the frogs in the more biblical manner, however. The verse, repeated over and over, "If you do not let them go, I shall unleash a plague of frogs upon you," is haunting. For scholars of the Old Testament — or to anyone who ever watched "The Ten Commandments" — we know that God is talking about the Isrealites. They are to be let go. But in this case, it is talking about forgiveness. Each character is holding onto a grudge, some petty, some very understandable, but they are unable to forgive despite given ample opportunities. Finally God has had enough, and he send them a little shower.

The film deals with how we have wronged others and how parents (particularly fathers) have wronged their children. I was abandoned by my father, though not by choice. He passed away when I was seven, and though I am thankful to never have had the experiences that many of these characters must go through, I often wonder how my life would have been different if I had a father in my formative years. My recollections of him are few and far between, and since videotape was not a staple in the 1970s, I have no idea what his voice sounds like.

Sometimes I get mad. He was a smoker, and I am sure that it contributed to his early exit. I have never touched a cigarette in my life because of that. At least I know that his leaving was not planned, but it doesn't stop me from still dealing with the loss 30 years later. As the line on the film goes, "We may be through with the past, but the past ain't through with us."

But I never felt the need to have to forgive him. I have had to deal with forgiving myself. There is much of that as well in "Magnolia." In every single one of our lives, there is that point where we feel like we are not capable of forgiveness or love. For some of us, it may last a minute. For others, a few weeks. For many of us, it crops up throughout our lives.

While those of us ask for forgiveness of God and of others, it is so important that we forgive ourselves. The burdens of our sins are too much to carry around. They can cause despair and loneliness. It shouldn't take a plague to make us realize that life is too short to hold grudges, to beat ourselves and others up. The single best shot of the movie is the last one, a long, lingering hold on the woman who realizes that whatever her problems are, there is someone who forgives her. Although we cannot make out exactly what is being said. her slow inevitable smile is absolute joy that sends us out of the movie with the expectation of being better people. That's what the best movies do.