Violent

“*it feels like water. it feels like electricity. it sounds like the humming of a fridge.” * sometimes, you find a movie just when you need to watch it the most. i’m about to turn 29. with every year that goes by, i can’t help but feel like everything is changing, and yet somehow staying the same. people come and go, places around me shift and alter, and at the end of the night i have no greater clue as to my purpose. it feels like i’m a crossroads and have been for awhile, and the road ahead of me is mysterious when it shouldn’t be as murky as it is. as a result, i’m often very deep in thought about life. it’s one of the scariest things we can be, being alive. being alive is hard. it’s lonely. it’s frustrating, and exhausting, and you never know the purpose of your time here. that our time here is both so long and so short at the same time makes me wonder how much of an impact i’ve had on the people around me. have i done enough to be loved? remembered, mourned? have i earned the right to be alive? and then i’m overcome with all the beauty in the world around me. the colors around me, the feel of an embrace from a loved one, the way my dogs look at me with nothing but adoration, the simple joy i get in watching movies, reviewing them, and sharing my thoughts with you. for as violent as the world can be, it’s equally beautiful. andrew huculiak’s 2014 violent is a movie that is anything but. it a raw, powerful, emotional coming of age story told in five parts about the life of dagny, a young girl on the brink of adulthood, but also something more somber and ominous. as we come to see dagny not only through the eyes of the people who loved her, but also are spectators to her life, we grow an appreciation for the young girl, as well as gaining some introspection into our own lives. bengt (part 3) was my favorite segment of the entire film, outside dagny’s long monologue  on rememberance and the final scene where dagny talks with her grandfather about life, and love. it’s the segment we spend the most time with, and the character of bengt is one that is tragic, sad, and altogether terrifying. this picture of a person who’s loneliness is all consuming, who makes the center of their world someone who never asked to be. it’s someone we all, unfortunately, will have in our lives. for some of us, we will be that person. dagny’s role in his life was nothing more than a cashier, a child of a friend, and that bengt took that trust and violated it makes for one of the more devastating moments of the film. that the scene we get immediately after with andrew is different rebounds us quickly, showing how some of the most important interactions and conversations we can have will be with people we’ve only just met. people you can bare your soul to without fear of judgment or reprisal. people who, if only for a moment, can make us feel less alone. the sound design and the score to this were maybe my favorite parts of the film, apart from the incredible scenes of dialogue and the beautiful script. whether it’s the loud percussive beats or the soft and gently vibrations, every scene has a score that matches it’s energy perfectly, distinguishing each scene from one another.  in tandem with the stunning visuals and a keen eye for cinematography, you find yourself mesmerized the entire film. violent is a movie about being. it’s a movie that takes those existential feelings we all have and explores them with a tenderness that reminds us it is all our first, and last, time on this earth. at a time where i’ve been feeling particularly mortal, this movie felt like a warm hug i didn’t know i needed. i am here. i am alive. i am loved. violently beautiful and unafraid.