Opting Out of Feelings

I’ve been meaning to see the classic Japanese film Ikuru for a long time. It’s about a man, a faithful government bureaucrat, who learns he is going to die and begins thinking back over how he has spent his life. One of the first things he recalls is the death of his wife when their only son was young.

The man and his son and her parents, perhaps, are riding in a car. The boy is staring ahead at the hearse they are following and panics when it turns a corner and he thinks they are going to lose track of it.

I turned it off shortly after that. I will finish it soon, maybe after Christmas. I’m actually assuming that it will be very life affirming in the end. In that moment, though, I knew I just didn’t want to feel all the closely observed feelings that make a powerful film so effective. I didn’t want to cry for all the vulnerabilities of my own only son or my own aging father. I decided I wanted to watch something blow up while nobody’s father walked away from the explosion without looking back. Weakness or self-care? Failed or functional masculinity? Yes, probably.