We just finished watching Braveheart and I am once again reminded of (1) how complacenet and comfortable I am in my freedom, (b) how darned sad it is when a great character is killed in a story and (three) just how much I like Mel Gibson and his movies. It’s been so long since I’d seen this movie, much of it – especially the strategizing, politics and betrayals – were new to me. I was feeling like heading to bed with my Stephen King novel and letting Howie finish watching the movie on his own, but now I’m glad I watched it. Historical accuracy/inaccuracy aside, it is a movie of epic proportions and brings out some incredible acting from its players.
It also brings out some thoughts in me. America. Of course I love living here. But do I value the freedom? When I watched the horrific battle scenes, perfectly realistic given the weapons of war we know they fought with back then, I recoiled. It was repulsive! Now we push buttons and make phone calls from the safety of bunkers, and planes deposit their payload on our enemies, and missles are launched remotely.
When I see something like Braveheart, I am forced to think about the battles which have been waged so that I can enjoy this complacency I find myself in. Isn’t that ironic? Ugh.