mnreit

Saw this last night. One women's personal journey to learn more about her great grandfather's lost art work, from between the world wars. Yes, against the backdrop of the Holocaust, but not another "Holocaust" movie - not at all. More about the artwork itself and the ability of art to connect us to another time and place, to illuminate who we are and our relationships, today. A story about family, history, deprivation, incredible acts of kindness and love.

The whole movie centers on it being incredibly cold outside, so cold that the homeless are freezing to death. But in every scene filmed outside, when people speak, we can't see their breathe. It's so obvious that it wasn't cold out, at all. Otherwise, highly original story and well acted.

I saw this movie as a 15 year old when it came out. I remember it was a Saturday night and none of my friends were around. My parents didn't have any plans either and asked if I would like to go to a movie with them. Although spending a Saturday night with ones' parents couldn't be more uncool for a teenage boy, I agreed. The story and performances sucked me in from the beginning and held me there while the unbearable sadness of the final scene tore my heart out. Of course teenage boys aren't supposed to be that sentimental so it took all my strength to hold back this tidal wave of grief that cut through me. As we walked out of the theatre and through the parking lot and got into the car I said nothing. After a few minutes my mother said, "Mark, you're awfully quiet". I shot back at her "leave me alone", which she did. I didn't want reality to intrude upon the profoundly deep feelings I was experiencing. That feeling stayed with me for months. Only decades later did I realize that the movie touched on a very personal sadness in my life that as a teenage boy I couldn't begin to grapple with. Micks' mothers inability to express love for her mirrored a similar void in my relationship with my father. During a particularly depressed part of my adulthood, while I was grappling with the reality of having an unloving father, one day I found myself thinking about this movie. Oh! That's why the movie had such a devastating effect on me! It brought to the surface all of the sadness, isolation and loneliness I suppressed as a child who wasn't loved for who he was! That's the definition of a true work of art. This movie had the ability to allow me to feel what I was unable to as a child and only years later would I be able to understand the reason for the overwhelming sadness I felt then.