In Living Hella While Discussing "Bella"

It really is true; the pathway to Hell is paved with good intentions. I agreed to help a friend and fellow mom of a teenager lead a parish teen discussion group following the viewing of the movie, "Bella". Every year the Catholic Church devotes a month to focusing on the Right to Life but this year with the "Freedom of Choice Act" (FOCA) looming, there's been a ramped up awareness of this issue. My friend thought "Bella", would be a great tool to use to illuminate this topic amongst our teens. Here was my chance to employ the vehicle of art and media to promote a conservative archetype. Good idea, right? Shoot, the mere fact that a critically acclaimed, financially successful film promoting life over abortion exists to begin with is reason enough to gather together and see it.

Of course, I didn't think we'd set the world on fire with our little screening to teens but at the very least, it was a worthwhile experiment. I envisioned them watching the film and absorbing the message to some degree with little expectation of a fruitful discussion following. We are talking about teenagers. Texting was not going to be the mode of communication hence, good luck on that score. So, I set the bar low and headed out to the screening with my two older daughters. My husband and younger daughter opted to stay home and "watch the dogs" translation, the playoff games.

Much to my surprise, the turnout was better than my "pessimistic self" anticipated. Just over 30 folks were there, roughly twenty teens, the rest parents and youth ministry folk, not bad for a playoff Sunday with temps below twenty. Bodies actually came, miracle. Being one of those people who dread awkward silences, I took comfort believing the adults in the crowd would pick up the discussion when the call for "thoughts" went out. On that guess, I was correct but had not prepared for the tone this event would take on.

The format for the screening was my friend's gig. My role was to hand out pens along with the movie guide sheets we'd prepared. She was going to lead the discussion with me piping in as need be. We'd begin with eating the several "big sandwiches" with chips and soda (no doubt the reason for the massive turnout), start the movie and watch it to the end of Act II, the part where Jose is in the car with Nina putting the pieces of his story together for her and the audience to understand. The plan was to stop the film there, pass out the sheets and discuss the movie's symbolism up to that point, relating it to choices we all face in life. Simple. Easy. Oh, just you wait. I should have known this would not be the case considering the film's tagline: If You Want To Make God Laugh, Make Plans.

The lights go down, the film begins, the targeted teens talk, not paying attention, in fact being out and out rude until I take a page out of Sr. Marie de Carmel's handbook. I get up and walk over behind the table of spoiled, coddled youths. Quietly I post behind them, eyes penetrating the backs of their vapid adolescent heads. As the whispering ceases and eyes lock onto the screen I retake my own seat and enjoy the film. I'd seen it before but like most second viewings, I notice a host of new things I'd missed the first go 'round.

Lights go up. I begin my solemn duty of passing out pens and movie guides. My friend starts things off asking folks to describe the significance behind the different appearances of Jose. I heard a woman's voice begin to answer. With the discussion being handled by two thoughtful moms, I tune out of the talk and busy myself with the taxing chore of pen and sheet distribution. Hey, I take my mindless holidays when I can get them. My job proceeds swimmingly; happily avoiding the spotlight until I realize my friend has left her spot at the head of the room mid-discussion to grab my arm. She whispers, "I need you, I've been attacked."

This did not compute. I checked her face for sarcasm finding only sincerity in her bulging eyes. "What do you mean?"

"The mother in red, she just bit my head off."

Huh? Okay, my friend must have some sort of public speaking issue I was not privy to. Whatever, I'll jump in from here. So I sit the box of one million pens down and take the place of authority. Directing my attention to the table of teens, I ask them what Jose sacrificed by staying at the scene of the accident? Predictably, young blank stares meet my question.

Then she answers, the dreaded mother in red, "He sacrificed his soccer career, the dolt. He needed a better lawyer."

I interpreted this as a smart ass yet surely facetious remark, chuckling, going along with her response adding, "Yeah, that's funny, a better lawyer, yeah. But seriously, why did Jose stay and face the mother when he could have left like his agent told him to?"

My middle daughter calls out, "It was the right thing to do."

Before I can commend my offspring for her correct answer, "MIR, Mother In Red" responds, "He didn't stay because it was the right thing to do, he was scared, he was thinking if he ran like he wanted to he could be in bigger trouble. He wanted to get off just like O.J. did but he didn't have the right lawyer."

Who the heck let this woman in the room? Wait, this is one of those Ashton Kutcher Punk'd things, right? Come on, where's the camera? I look at MIR, "You are kidding, right?"

Having yet to make eye contact with me, she responds, "No, if someone can get away with something they should. That's the truth. O.J. did it and he was right."

MIR is one of those folks that look up to the side when giving an answer instead of looking straight into the eyes of whomever she addresses. There must be some sort of body language interpretation to that, like run, she's got a gun and she's ready to go postal. I stand silent until she is forced to look at me for my come back. "O.J. is in jail. He was not right and karma caught up to him. Running from consequences gets everyone eventually."

MIR looks up to the side, "No, you are wrong. Are you saying you believe in Karma?"

At this point I am seeing more red than her shirt. This woman is going to push me to make a scene. I don't want to tangle with this broad here but I was not going to let her warped sensibilities stand validated. My face begins to take on that Incredible Hulk rage contortion mode. My breathing gets shallow and my fists clench. I look around the room to the wimps that are my fellow parents. I find not one bit of back up. In fact the only face in the room reading sympathy is red-shirt's husband! He gives me a look that clearly tells me he's sorry, but you're on your own, babe.

I wait again for MIR's eyes to meet mine. If she's going to 'dis' my message, she's going to look me in the eye for my reaction. "I'm not wrong. That's justice, lady. That's facing consequences resulting from choices. Jose accidentally took that child's life and was staying there to face the consequences the way people with a conscience do. Nina made choices, now she has consequences to face. Jose's helping Nina make the next set of choices that will be best for Nina."

MIR fires back, "Nina doesn't want that baby. She should have an abortion. That's what's best for her. A baby will ruin her life that is already pathetic. Besides, that kid deserved to get run over by the soccer player because the mother wasn't watching her properly."

"What is wrong with you?! This movie is meant to teach life lessons. The movie wasn't made to promote selfish acts without consequences. You're twisting the message and missing all of the points here!"

At that, my friend gently grabs my arm and pulls me back toward our seats while in a strained yet polite voice announces the start of the rest of the movie adding the weak promise that we'll all like it. This was not going well. I turned to another mother I was sitting next to, "Who IS that woman?" All I get is a shake of the head and closed eyes. Obviously MIR is someone my friend and I had not been warned about but whose reputation is well established in certain parish circles.

Lights lower for the final time. I turn back to my rattled friend and whisper, "She's the plant of Satan." My friend nervously chuckles. Act III is underway as I regain my composure. As soon as it starts, it seems to end all too quickly. Back to face MIR for one more round. My friend takes the lead again. She asks whose image and manner Jose seems to resemble most in the end of the movie? None other than MIR's husband, taking mercy on us, speaks up with a Latin flare, as in ancient church Latin, "Jesu Criste?"

My friend and I enthusiastically commend him for the right answer, "YES! Jesus, and in what actions did Jose emulate Christ?

The calm was not to last. "He didn't look like Jesus! No one knows what Jesus looks like! The character looked like a slob, a bum. The least he could have done was change his clothes before sitting down to eat. What a pig."

I look at my friend. She looks at me. I turn to MIR who is now secure with this game, looking straight at me to see what other theme she can shoot down in cold blood. I offer my thoughts, "Well, I don't think Jesus was known as much of a dresser either. For me, the fact that Jose stayed in his chef's coat was a symbol of the caterpillar in his cocoon which ties into the butterfly imagery and the little girl. Once Jose has Bella he is reborn, in new clothes, running on the beach with his little girl. The clothes were symbols of their stages of transformation."

MIR in all her wisdom sets us all straight. "No, they didn't change clothes because the movie had no budget, that's why they didn't change clothes."

Okay, sharing time is over. I'm stating my case and taking no further questions or comments. "Nina had to decide between abortion or giving her child away. Jose knew the torture of being responsible for ending an innocent life. He made it his quest to save Nina from serving this same sentence."

Without invitation, MIR spoke, "No he didn't. He just wanted her baby so he could feel better about himself. He didn't care what happened to Nina."

"The heck he didn't! He chased her down to the subway with the teddy bear before he ever knew she was pregnant. Did you even watch the movie?"

Like a voice from heaven, a before unheard from mom stood up and said, "I'd like to thank you ladies so much for organizing this wonderful movie. I can tell we've all gotten so much out of this. Will everyone join me in applauding our hostesses?"

As the clapping ensues I submit to the provided ending to this bizarre experience. I retrieve the large plastic box and go about my chosen calling as caretaker of pens. As I approach MIR's table her son pitches the family pens into the box with unmistakable defiance. He'd not lifted his gaze from his paper during the entire exchange between his mother and me. There is now disgust on his face but equal opportunity disgust so I do not take his sneer personally. I take the pen box to its special pen box place, returning to find MIR lying in wait for me. "So do you believe in Karma, Kismet, that whole bit?"

"No, I used the word 'karma' as a figure of speech, I simply meant if someone makes wrong choices and does not own up or pay for those choices, they are doomed to continue the process, just like O.J. did which was his ultimate downfall. If you want to call that karma I guess you could. I think it's more a symptom of character."

MIR educates me to her reality, "Character has nothing to do with anything. This is heaven, here, where we are right now so it's up to each of us to make our time here as enjoyable as possible. If a girl gets pregnant and she doesn't want the baby she should get it aborted. If you do something that people think is wrong then it is up to you to not get caught. That's the challenge of life. After this, there is nothing else. Karma is just another buzz word to make people feel guilty."

And so here I stand, not in San Francisco, nor Hollyweird, not even a Star Trek convention in Nevada but rather at a Catholic teen ministry movie screening in Richmond, Virginia going head to head with a raving Atheist. Is no place sacred? Do I really need to ask that question? No, but do I really need to respond to her statements? Yes.

"Ya know, we're here to get young people to think about their choices before they make them. The best choice would be to not have unwanted pregnancies to begin with but if the choice is made to have sex and the result is an unwanted pregnancy, that's a consequence deserving of more than a decision for that moment. My own mother was the result of a teen pregnancy. Law protected her life. She was born and because of that protection I am here, my children are here. Thousands of lives of future generations stand to be wiped out with each single abortion. For God sake, Obama himself was protected in the womb. His mother may well have taken another path had his life not been protected, robbing our country of the history he stands to make. As for Heaven, for me, it's a state of existence souls experience only after this life but you may be right, this may be Heaven and all our attempts at goodness could very well be unnecessary. What's trippy though is the fact that if you're right you'll never be offered the chance to prove it to me or even to yourself whereas if I'm right we'll both know who was right. I'm sort of cheating since my belief in God makes my time here as enjoyable as possible, covering me under your thinking too. Win-win, wouldn't you say?"

MIR reverts to her off to the side glance, "No, not really."

The small crowd gathered around us registers in my peripheral vision. My daughters and their friends have been listening to this entire exchange. I turn to MIR one final time, "Thanks for coming and sharing your thoughts tonight. It's really interesting to hear your take."

MIR nods and finally cuts me some slack, willing to allow my opinion of her "take" to stand unchallenged. She scoots out to catch up with her long-since exited family unit.

My eldest daughter looks after our new Atheist friend, "Wow, that was weirdness!"

"Was it that bad?" Fearing this little experiment made Dr. Jekyll seem tame.

"No mom, it was hilarious. You should have seen your face when that whack-job started saying all that crazy stuff."

"Did I look mad?"

"Remember when we were having the addition built and the contractor would tell you something had gone wrong?"

"Man, that bad, huh?"

"It was cool though, Mom. That lady sounded nuts and you sounded, well it you made sense."

I made sense!!! To a teenager, my own teenager, I made sense while talking about my faith and life choices. Now THAT is amazing. What is also amazing is how grateful I am that crazy Atheist came and challenged me. I stipulate that she was crazy since my own father considers himself an Atheist but never expresses himself in the manner this woman did. With all her bomb throwing, she gave me a chance to defend my beliefs in public, in front of my children, in front of myself. She really made ME think about what it was I believe and why. Most importantly, the targeted teens were glued to our every word, taking stock in the opposing views expressed. Had there been nothing but parents parroting each other's views I guarantee those teens would have heard nothing.

God, your sense of humor is really wicked, effective but wicked. Okay, I'll say it: Thank God for Atheists, crazy Atheists especially!

Please check out the link below to view a very short, very relevant video.

http://www.4marks.com/videos/details.html?video_id=987