Belfast

I've always loved the scene in Doctor Zhivago when Yuri Andreyevich is asked how he'll live within the newly formed Soviet Union, and he simply states something like, "[I'll] just live".

You see he isn't seriously interested in politics or religion or ideology or revolution, but rather just in simply living a quiet life with friends and family.

Such peaceful ambitions in volatile times permeate much of Belfast's learning, as it generally focuses on three generations of a loving family from Northern Ireland.

It's sweet and tender, wild and forthright, innocent and wise, confused yet earnest, as its characters attempt to simply live surrounded by shortsighted religious tension.

If you've ever wondered how life persists when dangerous idiocy turns culturally violent, I'd argue Kenneth Branagh's heartfelt Belfast is a superlative exemplar.

Plus, if you happened to have watched Branagh's Henry V when you were in high school, and felt cool when after 15 minutes or so you generally understood the language, and then thought he was one of the coolest directors around, and then waited for years, while generally enjoying his films, for that one that stood out as a genuine artistic masterpiece, unconcerned with status or popularity, just overflowing with artistic soul, look no further than his brilliant Belfast, a potential companion piece for Doctor Zhivago.

I guess I never mentioned that my father was a religious man, who attended mass practically every Sunday of his life. It gave him a general sense of peace and calm and when the pandemic prevented him from going, he lost his life.

My father was a religious man but he wasn't strict or nutty or ridiculous, he still believed in medical science and evolution and even loved great writing and argument (like other friends I've known who are religious).

Unlike austere religious people, he made you feel welcome within the church, and didn't judge or critique or fear you because you were different or strange or inquisitive.

I think about the church at times but apart from dad, there's been a lot of disillusion, and I generally prefer how things are done in Québec, where science actually makes prayers happen.

That's just me though, I'm not here to judge, but I really don't get it when religions start fighting, especially different denominations within the same religion, it seems incredibly foolish, not to mention, totally nuts.

So many productive lives ruined.

In the name of saviours who preached peace.

I'm old enough to accept that it happens but I'll never make peace with such reckless idiocy.

Belfast is a must see film.

The pursuit of life beyond disparate violence. 

The Journey

A bold impromptu countryside drive bears diplomatic fruit in Nick Hamm's The Journey, as two polar opposites combatively discuss Northern Ireland's historic divisions along the way.

One is as unyielding in his convictions as he is appealing (to his flock) in his integrity, a cold hard person of the cloth who cites scripture like he's exhaling the divine to justify whatever it is he happens to be upholding/considering/refuting/condemning.

The other's less austere, a person of the world who's made tough decisions to challenge unsettling realities. He's tired of fighting and seeks a mutually beneficial resolution, a tie that binds, an end to the bloodshed.

The tension's thick as they depart side by side to travel to the airport, but the ostensibly naive inquiries of an undercover chauffeur slowly but surely facilitate dialogue.

Obviously enough, it's difficult to have a conversation when a participant is unwilling, when someone trades jibes and insults rather than reflections and well-reasoned respectful counterpoints.

Martin McGuinness (Colm Meaney) isn't easily dissuaded, however, and his resourceful concerned conciliatory olive branch gradually impresses the much older Ian Paisley (Timothy Spall).

What follows is a light but sturdy passionate yet restrained account of a brilliant diplomatic act, of a political synthesis replete with sympathy and understanding that significantly changed things and reunited integrities estranged.

Inspirational.

The ideological and the practical ingeniously combined, Northern Ireland's example as presented in The Journey provides leaders of all stripes with constructive hands on principles which can promote consensus as opposed to carnage, community rather than chaos.

A tiny country isolated on the edge of Europe which found a working solution so many more cosmopolitan realms never seem to discover, the lasting peace which McGuinness and Paisley embraced resolutely resonates to this day.

As many others have pointed out, the study of history is integral to a nation's identity, but bearing grudges about things that happened long ago can clog things up in the present until there's absolutely no moving forward, history blindly and stubbornly obscuring innovation.

Cynicism breeds contempt if not romance, contempt fosters alienation if not community.

If politicians can constructively clarify innovations at any given moment, contemporary conceptions can progressively promote change, as long as there's a willingness for different cultures to make concessions, or simply recognize the potential of how truly wonderful things can be.

Unfortunately, that's too easy, according to my rudimentary understanding of cultural obsessions with novelty.

Too predictable, too boring.

Perhaps you need that wild unpredicted spontaneous stroke of heuristic genius that brought Northern Ireland together to encourage cultural respect amongst peoples.

Or perhaps peoples really do respect one another as long as tensions aren't politically riled up every six months or so.

That could be it.