The Pain of Free Will
As part of my obligatory SAG/AFTRA movie viewing to help Kim with her nomination work, I have now viewed thirty-six of the fifty-four screeners we have been sent. That represents exactly two-thirds of the stack and I have another eighteen or so to get through. I have been doing a bit of binging this past weekend to play catch-up. I watched The Mustang, Parasite, Marriage Story, Cliffs of Freedom, Etruscan Smile, A Hidden Life, 1917 and Uncut Gems. Those eight form quite a array of topics, times and stories. Strangely enough, one theme comes through strongly in each and every film; the theme of free will. They are all approached quite differently, but it’s still there loud and clear. This is a random gathering of films taken as a sampling from a slightly less random selection of what are deemed to be “worthy” films, all made by a random array of producers and directors. The first question to ask is whether this really is as random as we think.
It is said that the film industry is dominated by Jews. There is strong historical basis in this since the original silent film industry was started by Jews and moved to Hollywood by Jewish executives. I was recently surprised to learn that there are only 14.6 million Jews in the world. Out of a global population of 7.7 billion, that represents 0.19%. Under the Israeli Law of Return concept, that number could be as high as 23.5 million or 0.31%. Compare that to an estimated Jewish concentration of 3.67% in the United States, where 51% of the Jews defined as such by the Law of Return reside. Now look at either New York or Los Angeles and we see very similar concentrations of Jews in the population of approximately 13%. Both NewYork and L.A. could probably be further concentrated by looking at college-educated and professional standards. I can’t find those specific standards, but it would not surprise me to find out that 25-33% of the professionals with which I interact are Jewish. The first seventeen years of my life I barely had any interaction with Jewish people and since starting college at Cornell, that has dramatically changed. And even though only 19% of Cornell graduates are Jewish, it seems that a disproportionate number of my Cornell friends are Jewish. By my estimate, that percentage runs at about 75% for some reason. It may the fraternity I chose or the dorm in which I happened to start. Since college, being in an area like finance, even the “white shoe” province of investment banking, has served to just further this immersion.
Here is the thing, I consider the Jewish sensibilities around literature, storytelling and humor to be far more highly developed, or at least more in synch with my own sensibilities. This might be from my educational and work exposure, but I prefer to think of it differently. I was once in a meeting with a Jewish family group considering a real estate investment with the group I was leading. The patriarch of the family, an octogenarian, assumed I was Jewish until his son corrected him. At that moment he leaned into me and honestly asked, “How come you’re not Jewish?” It was a rhetorical question asked as a simple query. It has made me wonder ever since about what influences human development and what brings about cultural differences.
The topic of free will is a very deep topic for consideration. It establishes the basis for good and evil. It may lead to theological ponderings and might even be thought of as religious in nature. But free will is somehow larger than that and it transcends the boundaries of religion. It is the opposite of destiny and fate and goes to that element in man that makes him human, be it good or bad. In The Mustang it is about a convict that chooses a path that leads to compassion, in this case for a horse. That compassion translates to salvation. The Parasite is more complex in that its about a whole family trying to survive and choosing a desperate path leading to damnation. The tie between the harshness of nature and the lack of grace are explicit. The family may not deserve what it gets, but it alone has made its choice. And then there is Marriage Story, which is seemingly mundane in chronicling a bicoastal marriage break-up. What it reminds us is that we all make the choices that lead to the outcomes of our and others’ lives. No election of free will is without consequence and none can be detached from us.
This impact of free will cuts across all cultures in these films, Korean, Irish, Ottoman. Greek, Austrian, German, British or American. It applies to Christians, Jews, Muslims and Agnostics. The people are rural and urban. They are at war, at peace and in all places in between, whether they are peaceful or bellicose by nature. Some have specific missions and some just seek survival. The lines between salvation and damnation are as slight as the width of a blade or a bullet. There is a line in A Hidden Life, about a conscientious Austrian objector who is in a German wartime prison. The jailhouse philosopher says that the sun shines on both the good and the evil. This is a borderline fatalistic comment and contradicts the silent but strong act of will that causes the prisoner to refuse to swear allegiance to Adolph Hitler (a strangely Austrian soul in the dictatorial guise of a naturalized German). Adolf chose his path and the paths of millions of others followed. The Austrian prisoner chose his path and its impact is only on him and his immediate family. A prosecutor asks if he thinks his act will change the war, the answer being self-evident that it won’t.
Perhaps the most disturbing story of the lot is Uncut Gems because it feels so close, so here and so now. I’ve known many Howard Ratner’s, but none who toy with fate so freely as he does. He flaunts fate with his free will to be the gambler he chooses to be. It has about as much impact on the world at large as the solitary Austrian prisoner who will not do what he thinks is wrong. One has a wife that doesn’t care what he does because she finds nothing redeeming in him while the other has a wife who supports his freedom to choose to die because she sees no other redeemable alternative. One inhabits the urban life of glitz and superficiality and excess and the other scratches a life for the family from the rocky hillside where subsistence is not assured from month to month.
Both Howard Ratner and Franz Jagerstatter end up in the same place, as we all do sooner or latter. How we divine our paths and how we live our lives in pleasure or pain does matter, despite the end we all come to. It is not sufficient to claim fatalism. Our species is defined by our ability to exercise free will and what we do in life matters.