From a young age, I can remember being drawn to the vastness of the ocean, dreaming of what lay beyond its infinite horizon. Time has only increased my awe. I identify with past civilizations’ belief of the ocean as god. It’s soothing tidal sounds and the tranquil beauty belie the uncontrollable power surging beneath. We are so small and helpless when faced with the natural world’s omnipotence. And if one is to believe, as some suggest, that all life emerged from the sea, then it only makes sense that we return to the comfort of its embrace like the warm arms of a parent. Personally, I find the contradiction of the cold indifferent natural world as a loving parent to be reassuring -- serenity and chaos coexisting, reminding us that we are but specks of sand in the annuals of history.
Three films, Truffaut’s The 400 Blows, Hal Ashby’s Coming Home, Woody Allen’s Interiors and Jonathan Glazer’s Birth, have beautiful examples of this. Each of these films concludes with a main character somberly advancing to the ocean like a child returning to the womb. In the grief of loss, they seek solace in the oceans harsh embrace. Both physically and emotionally, they have come to the edge and their internal isolation has led them to a place of complete helplessness. The bittersweet irony is that in their anomy they have stepped to the edge of the void but have also come to an open place of infinite possibilities and a chance for rebirth.
**It has been difficult to find the exact clips I want. I can’t find the end for Coming Home, so I’ve just included the trailer. The trailer isn’t a fair representation of this brilliant film.
**The Interiors clip is far too dark and therefore doesn’t capture the vivid red of
**Birth is not nearly on the same level as the other 3 films mentioned here, however, Harris Savides’ cinematography is marvelous.
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