Tag: death

The Savages (2007): A Mature Film about Aging, Caregiving and Death

About a month ago, I rented a movie called The Savages from the library. The movie is not to be confused with the ultra-violent crime thriller Savages, which came out in 2012 and was directed by William Oliver Stone (I cannot watch it. Too gory.)

I remember hearing about The Savages when I was in middle school, but I was too young to see it. It is rated R. However, now that I am an adult and have gone through my own personal experiences with loss and grief, I appreciate that I waited to watch this movie. Common Sense Media recommended this movie for ages 17 and up due to its mature themes, and there is some truth to that recommendation. As a kid, I don’t know if I would have had much appreciation for this kind of movie. I was not very knowledgeable or aware about caregiving and aging when I was younger, but now I am dealing with the loss of many friends of mine who were seniors.

The Savages is a black comedy-drama directed by American filmmaker Tamara Jenkins, and it begins in a senior living community in hot and sunny Arizona. A caregiver, while looking out for an elderly woman, is telling an elderly man named Lenny Savage to clean up after himself. The elderly man is stubborn and refuses, but then the caregiver threatens him, so the elderly man says he will flush the toilet. However, when the caregiver comes in, he finds that the man has written an obscenity on the wall with his own excrement. The care facility calls Wendy Savage and tells her that her father, Lenny, has written a curse word on the wall with his own excrement. Wendy, a struggling playwright, is in the middle of sending out her plays to fellowships in hopes that she will receive the funding needed to make the plays happen (and take care of herself in the process, because living in New York City is expensive.) However, this news about her dad’s behavior sends her into a panic, and she calls her brother, Jon, who she hasn’t spoken with in years, to tell him what’s going on with their dad. Jon is a college professor living in Buffalo, New York, and he is also trying to maintain a relationship with a woman from Poland whose visa is going to expire. Wendy is sleeping with an older married man. As Lenny’s health declines, the two siblings, while navigating their own rocky relationship with each other, must decide whether to keep him in a nursing home or let him stay in his own home until the end of his life.

There is a pretty poignant scene that resonates with me more now that I am older and have had people in my life who are dear friends to me die in their 70s and 80s. At a diner, Jon and Wendy ask their dad whether he wants to be resuscitated or not when he is dying, and the dad barks at them, “JUST UNPLUG ME, DAMMIT!” as if that was the most obvious outcome for the end of his life. It shows how hard approaching death is for Lenny, especially since his girlfriend died. The film also gets complicated because Wendy and Jon find out that their father cannot continue to stay in his late girlfriend’s house because he was not put on the deed to the house so he does not own it. Wendy and Jon both have very different outlooks on death. I think Jon, like Wendy, is grieving his father’s decline and imminent passing, but he sees it for what it is, not as a smooth transition but an ugly unforgiving event. Wendy wants her dad to stay home, and at least, if he has to go to a nursing home, she wants him to stay at the finest nursing home. The siblings also come to understand that they did not have a very good childhood with their dad. They did not get to reminisce over their childhood memories with their dad. I think growing up, they had a dysfunctional family and did not have a lot of deep connection with their parents growing up. I think the scene where Lenny tells Jon and Wendy to unplug him reminded me of when my parents went over their estate planning with me, and I did not take it seriously enough or approach it in an emotionally mature way at first. I had this deluded idea that my parents would always be there to provide emotional and financial support for me forever, but after reading essays and lectures by a Japanese educator and philosopher named Daisaku Ikeda (1928-2023) about the Buddhist view of birth and death, I started to think about my own mortality and how I wanted to spend the last few years of my life. I developed a more sobering perspective on the passing of loved ones and the reality that I, too, am not immortal and will die at some point. From a Buddhist perspective, our life force continues even after our physical form as humans is no longer alive. We tap this dormant life force from within us by chanting the title of this Buddhist teaching called The Lotus Sutra. The title is Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, which we believe in the Buddhist community is the law of the universe and all life, and also that Nam-myoho-renge-kyo exists in us even after we pass away. It is an eternal law from time without beginning and has no expiration date.

Honestly, if I did not have the Buddhist view of life and death as the foundation for my outlook on things, I think this movie would have made me fearful of aging and death. But from the Buddhist perspective, death is one of the four sufferings that humans go through, the first three being birth, aging and sickness. I feel fortunate to have grown up in a religious community where I was around not just other young people, but also elderly people. Many of my friends in the Buddhist community belong to the Many Treasures Group, which is for seniors ages 65 and older. The Many Treasures Group studies Daisaku Ikeda’s writings about birth, aging, sickness and death and how we can transform these sufferings into causes for our enlightenment in this lifetime, without having to undergo austere practices lifetime after lifetime in order to finally attain our Buddhahood, or enlightened nature, only when we die. Every time I talk with the Many Treasures members, they are joyful and sincere and they always encourage the young people in our community whenever they are going through rough times. I remember in 2016 when I was feeling suicidal and hopeless about my life, I got the chance to support behind-the-scenes for memorial services at the local Buddhist center. There were no heavy formalities at these services. Everyone just came to pay their respects to their friends who passed away and shared fond memories of participating in activities at the Buddhist center with them. They encouraged me to study about the Buddhist perspective of birth and death, and even though I still of course go through those five stages of grief when someone I love dies, I know that their life force is eternal and that I can chant for their eternal happiness even after they are gone. If Jon and Wendy Savage were real-life people instead of movie characters, I would have told them about the Buddhist perspective of life and death, not to get rid of their grief, but to give them another view from which to look at their father’s aging and death that is more encouraging.

Movie Review: Amour

A few days ago, I watched a movie with my family called Amour. I had checked it out at the library a few months ago, but never got around to watching it. I finally decided I wanted to watch the movie. The movie took a while to get into, to be honest, and I had to get up and take multiple bathroom breaks (mostly because I woke up at an early hour and didn’t get much sleep) but I think by the end it became pretty suspenseful and I got more into it. If you haven’t seen the movie, it is about an elderly music teacher named Anne who suffers from a stroke and her husband, Georges, has to take care of her. Over the course of the time Georges is taking care of her, Anne’s declining health takes a toll on both her and Georges, to the point where Anne doesn’t have the will to go on living and Georges doesn’t want her to suffer anymore. It’s easy for me to think that I’m young and that illness and death are far away, but watching this film reminded me that illness and death is a reality for everyone, and it is painful to watch loved ones go through suffering. I think studying about life and death from a Buddhist perspective helped me have a deeper appreciation for life than I did before. At first, I just thought life was a waste and wondered what the point of my existence was, especially because at the time I had fallen in love with someone, and they were with someone else. I remember falling into deep despair at that time and wondering if I could go on with life if I could never be in a relationship with this person. But I remember reading a book called The Wisdom for Creating Happiness and Peace by the late Buddhist philosopher and author, Daisaku Ikeda, and he has a chapter called “Facing Illness.” He talks about the four sufferings in Buddhism: birth, aging, sickness and death, and how, through Buddhist practice, we can create meaning from these sufferings. He says that we should take practical measures to take care of our health, but he also says that health is not solely limited to the absence of illness. It’s really about how we can create value in our lives. He also says that even if someone has illness, their life is still worthy of respect. In a society that tends to shy away from talking about illness and death, this for me was a new perspective through which I could examine illness and death, because while we celebrate life and youth, illness and death are seen as things to be feared. Of course, it is incredibly painful when a loved one gets ill and dies, and going through the process of grief feels like a living hell most times. But as a young person, I think studying about life and death has been a huge benefit of my Buddhist practice because I have started to reflect on how I want to live my life. I was very jaded and cynical about life after experiencing heartbreak these past few years, but after practicing Buddhism I think that my perspective on life has changed. I want to appreciate every moment that I am alive, because I realize that life is precious, and I shouldn’t take it for granted.

Seeing Anne suffer from illness was pretty painful, and it was also painful for Georges. Him smothering her to death with a pillow was incredibly disturbing, but it just showed me that he also was starting to experience a lot of despair because his wife was in so much pain that she didn’t want to go on living. She had spent so much of her life as a pianist, but now that she is paralyzed on one side of her body, she can’t play it much anymore. So, when her student visits the house and leaves her a note expressing his sympathy to her, she feels sad because he gets to continue his art while she cannot continue to play. It reminded me of this movie I saw called Me Before You, because it’s about a young man named Will who becomes a quadriplegic after a seriously traumatic accident. When he becomes paralyzed, he loses his joy for life and starts to think about ending his life. He remembers that before he was quadriplegic, he could do all sorts of fun things with his life, especially traveling around the world. But he can’t do those things anymore, so he loses hope. And it’s painful for the young woman who is taking care of him, because she has this zest for life and to see this young man feeling hopeless and losing the will to live is painful for her. It is also hard for their grown-up daughter to see her mother suffering. When their daughter, Eva, tries to see her mom, Georges closes the door and prevents her from seeing Anne. When Eva finally sees Anne’s condition, she is in a lot of emotional pain. She tries to convince Georges to send Anne to a hospital, but Georges refuses because Anne doesn’t want to go to a hospital. This reminded me of this book I read called Being Mortal by Atul Gawande. My mother had recommended the book to me a couple of years ago. I read it and it was quite eye-opening to read about how we treat aging and death in American society. I had been learning about illness and death from a religious perspective, but I didn’t know much about how the elderly are actually treated in society. It addresses end-of-life care and how doctors can provide more support for patients approaching death. At first, it was an emotional challenge to read the book, because I have tried to avoid the topic of death for so long. But after so many of my close acquaintances and loved ones passed away from aging and illness, I began to want to learn more about illness and death and how to prepare for them. I don’t know if anything will ever fully prepare me for losing a loved one. I will still go through those stages of grief just like everyone else, but by having a deeper understanding of death, I have learned to embrace the process of grieving and understand that grief is not just something I cry about one day and get over the next. After my mentor, Daisaku Ikeda, passed away at 95, I was very, very sad and so was the rest of my Buddhist community. I still miss him so much, but I still read his writings because they give me courage, especially his book Discussions on Youth. I remember last year when a dear friend of mine passed away, I experienced tremendous grief. She was elderly, but she had such a vibrant spirit, and she always encouraged me to never give up. Experiencing grief reminds me of my own mortality and how I can better spend my time on this earth. Watching Amour presented an honest and real look at aging and dying and how challenging it can be for people to navigate these stages of life. It took me patience to get into the film, but I am still glad that I saw the film because it helped me understand that even though I am young, I need to appreciate the elderly people in my life before they pass away.

Amour. 2012. 127 minutes. Rated PG-13.