The truth is unique and must be accepted. The most universal truth of all? Everything is going to end. Inevitably at some point everything will be empty. Nothing. But what can we do with that truth? Smile!
Do you remember our lives before the pandemic and quarantines changed the world? Today we go out and live our life pretending that everything is back to normal, that everything is the same as before, but the truth is that something has changed inside all of us. Being exposed to such fragility made us vulnerable, but as if by silent agreement, we have decided never to speak of it again.
A few days before the start of the first quarantine, I decided to visit a downtown movie stand and take a supply of recommendations for the lockdown. “Lucky” comes to mind in a special way, starring Harry Dean Stanton in his last role. There he emerges as an unexpected and unconventional hero. A proud character who resists being defeated by the passage of time.
I recently revisited this story and noted how fortunate I was to meet it at the time. For me, it felt like preparation for the lockdown to come, but its powerful narrative may well offer an eye-opening perspective for any viewer, anytime, anywhere. This is because it points to something as universal as the human condition, our mortality, and our fruitless search for meaning.
Lucky is an atheist. Seeing the inevitable end of his existence getting closer, he has no hope of an afterlife, nor of a redeeming deity to protect him from the darkness of nothingness. His life clings to a routine that gives him some purpose. Getting up at a certain time, doing a workout, and visiting the same cafe. This constitutes for him a ritual that offers him meaning.
My intention is not to make a linear review of the plot. You can do that just by watching the movie. I would like to talk a little about certain scenes that seemed powerful to me and that could trigger ideas in any receptive head.
That’s what Lucky is all about. It’s an epiphany movie. That revealing moment in which truth is presented to us and manages to transform our perspective. Although it seems that some people never experience something like this, it is quite common. It can occur at any point in life. It can happen when you are very young or after several years. This happened to Lucky after he was ninety years old.
Isolated on his ranch, dedicated to taking care of his plants, Lucky receives a visit from a young woman interested in checking on him and seeing if he needs anything. Reluctant at first to this visit and with a cautious attitude, the interaction he has with his new friend develops to the point of ending up sharing a joint in the living room of the house while they watch TV.
This relaxed setting, with defenses already down, allows our character to share a truth. As if it was an indecipherable secret, and making sure that no one else knows about it, he acknowledges his fear. The fear towards the end becomes evident but accompanied by the shame of even feeling it. At least at that moment, that shame dissipates when his interlocutor tells him that she already knew, and they say goodbye with a hug.
That closeness with the others, which Lucky had resisted so much, is showing itself as a possibility that gives meaning. An explanation of the reason to be alive arises when remembering his interaction with the Mexican lady who owns a store. At first, their exchange was reduced to a transaction, a superficial moment that barely challenged the limits of individualism. However, in the middle of his trip, Lucky receives an invitation for this lady’s son’s birthday.
Witnessing this meeting, to celebrate a birthday as an excuse to momentarily meet and share life, sing and play make sense. Is this what we are alive for? To laugh, to dance, and rejoice? In moments like this, it doesn’t matter the age, the memories, or the bitterness of remorse. It is possible to abandon sorrow and fear just to sing. This is how Lucky throws himself into the ring and brings tears to our eyes with his version of the ranchera “Volver, Volver”.
But no matter how much joy we try to impart to the existence, we will always see an abyss at the end, right? A philosophical question to which I personally had never been able to see another perspective, until I found myself with an ancient and distant vision. It’s nicely reflected in the conversation Lucky has with a Vietnam War veteran over coffee.
His anecdote recalls the blood and fire entry of the gringo army into a village. With his lost gaze, the veteran remembers a girl who came out to meet him with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. He highlights the peace and tranquillity that this smile conveyed in the midst of this war scene. The veteran, first convinced that this was the welcome towards a redemptive army, still feels the bewilderment that in this Buddhist village this was the way to face imminent death.
Deep in her psyche, the girl was convinced that the presence of this army meant death. However, her reaction was not one of fear, crying, or terror. Inside her, she had embraced peace and fullness as a way to face this end. Faced with the inevitable, we can resist and condemn, but if it is going to happen anyway, why not welcome it with a smile?
In the meantime, is our decision: How do we invest or spend our existence? The appearance of the great David Lynch, this time as an old friend of Lucky, focuses on the loss of his turtle. The animal had become the center of his life. His time, dedication, and attention had gone into the care of the turtle who, for some reason and ironically for such a slow creature, went on the run.
Many criticized his anguish over a pet, even more so for the fact that she was his only heir. In a brilliant monologue, Lynch’s character makes it clear that we all have a turtle in our lives. An excuse and a reason to cling to. For some it’s their family, for others it’s money, their job, a relationship. Any option is valid. Who can tell us that our choice is ridiculous? Who are we to question the other’s choice? Only one person lives in each skin, and it is each one of us.
This trip, this revelation that we are taking with Lucky has its climax in a bar when, about to light a fumarrete, he is asked not to smoke inside. When the owner tells him “My place, my rules” our hero enlightens us: “Ownership is a fallacy”. When asked «Why can’t you just follow the rules?» Lucky is lethal: “Authority is arbitrary and subjective”. This is only a prelude to a debate about the truth, very appropriate for these times in which this concept is weakened. The truth is a fact.
Although many want to subvert it, there is a difference between what happened, and what is believed to have happened. There is a distinction between the facts and the interpretations that are made of them. The truth is far from being the agreement in the disagreements. The truth is unique and must be accepted. The most universal truth of all? Lucky reminds us: Everything is going to end. Inevitably at some point everything will be empty. Nothing. But what can we do with that truth? Smile!