Skip to main content

Film Essay: Dead Man Walking

There are some things in our lives that rejuvenate us, please us and make us happy. Along with them come the ugly, menacing occurrences that infuriate us. But for now, I’m concentrating on something which really makes my everyday a pleasant one and for those who knows me pretty closely, it should come as no surprise that ‘movies’ are that divine works of art that I worship and which in turn serve my noble purpose of entertaining myself. And God, didn’t I witness something ‘divine’ yesterday? ‘Dead Man Walking’ is a movie directed by Mr. Tim Robbins who is an accomplished actor in his own regard. The movie stars some of the finest actors of our cinematic age; viz. Sean Penn and Susan Sarandon, and mark my words, without the wizardry of these fine actors, this movie would have been far, far away from the iconic status that it’s enjoying today. As Roger Ebert, the world’s greatest movie critic, rightly commented, ‘this movie ennobles the art of moviemaking’ and yesterday after watching it, I can most definitely approve of this comment and virtuosic observation.
This is certainly one of the most emotionally absorbing movies that you come across in your lifetime.  I was emotionally shattered, devastated and drenched and not able to feel my tears-swelled face when I finished this one. This movie dwells in the deepest ideologies of Christianity and Catholicism and ultimately certifies that there is no greater a humanistic virtue than the ‘forgiveness’. This movie encompasses the fight between the good and the evil but never passes the judgement and leave it to viewers’ discretion what they think of the movie plot which presumably is a realistic one. Well, to give the fate and command of a movie in the viewers’ hands is a very risky proposition because I definitely believe that a movie’s ultimate aim is to entertain the masses and not force them to make their own judgements but this is where ‘Dead Man Walking’ differentiates itself from the rest of the others. This is so simple a movie and yet so devastating in its premise that you feel that you are a part of this thing and can’t let it go before deciding the fate of Matthew Poncelet, a death row inmate at Louisiana Penitentiary, and the chief protagonist of the movie who is counting the last hours of his lives before meeting the obvious conclusion on his face and that’s death. Sister Helen Prejean does everything to turn his capital punishment into a life-sentence but to no avail. She becomes the spiritual adviser of Matt Poncelet and guides the last hours of his life into redeeming himself in something noble and gentle. He, who throughout the movie, denies the charges of murder and rape of which is convicted off, finally gives in and breaks out in one of the most emotionally shattering climax scenes in the cinematic history. Sister Prejean, knowing all the things beforehand, calms him for she is always taught to abhor the sin, not the sinner and make him to seek apology from the parents of both the victims. Ultimately, within the shouts of ‘dead man walking’, Matt Poncelent enters the dormitories of his execution chamber and finally greets his death with both of his hands but at this point of time, he is guilt free and wears a cloak of serenity and calm that’s not familiar to us but certainly is other-worldly.
A lot has already been written about the acting and artistry of Mr. Penn and Ms. Sarandon and at this juncture, I don’t want to pay any more allegiance to their craft for they are icons and knows how to put a life in a character. It will be nothing but trivial if I praise them even some more for many glorified movie critics have already done so in their magnificent and fabulous write-ups. And in this way, I would like to end my piece here with a suggestion for you to watch this movie if you ever get a chance to do so for you’ll be grateful for this ‘never-before-seen’ mastery.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Leftovers: A Very 'Special' HBO Production

Three things that have occupied my mind for last three days in descending order of importance are: Justin Trudeau, Heinrich Klassen and The Leftovers. I am going to write here about the least important entity for I am likely to forget about it most urgently. The Leftovers is an HBO production and like the most HBO productions, it makes for a great television experience. I chose to watch it for two reasons: First, it was only three season long with 28 episodes in total and secondly, for two years running, it was the best TV show in American Landscape. There was a third reason as well and it was in the name of its creator's promise. Damon Lindelof is one of the brightest American minds and he gave us 'Lost' all those years back. I have been a huge fan of 'Lost' and till this time, gush about its fantastical and mythical elements. People still find it very hard to crack the mysteries of Lost and when a show leaves you with more questions than the answers after its 8

Phillip Seymour Hoffman : An Obituary

Phillip Seymour Hoffman was one of the modern acting greats. You can always identify and isolate him in an ensemble cast. Give him just two-three lines in a 150-180 minutes long feature film and still he would enthrall the audience with his magic and aura and come out on top. People and critics alike bestowed countless superlatives upon him in a career spanning over more than two decades but whether any one of those adjectives ever managed to justify his cinematic craft, I seriously doubted. He was unprecedented and unsurpassed in the practice of cinematic artistry and thus emerged as America’s greatest character actor ever, period. Paul Giamatti is his worthy successor and hopefully he would calm and soothe our nerves with his finest performances in times to come in Phillip’s absence. Phillip ultimately was a show-stealer, a rabble-rouser, an aloof but a sympathizing marvelous human being who marveled in Hollywood though always residing at its sidelines. I first saw him playing a y

Book Review: Unanswered

'Unanswered' is a book penned by Mr. Kunal Uniyal and it's his third book. I am calling it a book, using a common noun to describe it and I have a good enough reason for doing so. It's a book that consists off both poems and prose and I was in real dilemma picturing its prognosis in my mind. It started with a poem named 'You and I' and beautiful it was, all poised and lyrical. And then came a snippet of a prose by the name 'Life of a Yogi'. They were really not connected and I was perplexed. Then I allowed myself some comfort and decided to dig up some more. Some more beautiful poems and accompanying yet again not quite related passages of prose followed but now they looked more in shape and very much in order. Now I was beginning to realize that there was more to this book than met my eyes earlier and it's scope is much wider that what I originally thought. You are required to engage yourself with this book and once you do that, you will know you ar