BEASTS OF THE SOUTHERN WILD

The Emotional Myth of Fiercely Tough and Never Sad

Photo from Fandango.com 

As I watched Benh Zeitlin’s poetic, gorgeously filmed movie, I kept asking myself: who are these Beasts of The Southern Wild?  Of course, they are prehistoric Aurochs, encased in Ice Age glaciers, set free by the same storm that threatens Hushpuppy’s (Quenzhané Wallis) home. But, as a psychoanalyst, I can’t help but reflect on the mythical Beasts in Hushpuppy’s mind. After all, they appear and re–appear, at crucial points in the film, when storms of feeling threaten to overwhelm a little girl who, in spite of her resilience, is quite alone. There is a mother who ‘swam away’, an erratically loving, angry, and dying father (Dwight Henry) - teaching Hushpuppy to be “The Man”, fiercely tough and, especially, never, never sad. 

When a mother leaves, and a father is dying, a child too frequently blames herself. Her need, her anger, her hurt – those (misinterpreted to be beastly) feelings - must have done it.  She constructs a tough wall against her feelings and love’s unreliability; like when Hushpuppy lashes out at her dad: “I hope you die and when you do, I’ll go to your grave and eat birthday cake all by myself” - as if she doesn’t care. When he disappears from the place he has suddenly fallen, she’s terrified: “I’ve broken everything”. Did her angry wishes turn him into a tree, or maybe a bug?  Will he ever come back? 

“The whole universe depends on things fitting together just right. If one piece falls apart, the entire universe would get busted”.  Hushpuppy’s world is falling apart; an internal voice, in voice over, is trying to sort out her fear that she’s the one who’s done the busting. That’s hard, though, with no help. When the film pans to an Ice Age scene with the world frozen over, we know Hushpuppy’s trying to toughen up; to be “The Man”.

Toughness is her dad’s way, too, and keeping those Beasts (of feelings) encased in ice is what he wants. If there is any tender kind of “girl stuff”, he aggressively yells: “Beast it, Hushpuppy…. Beast it, Beast it, Beast it.” A litany. A chorus; until Hushpuppy is showing her muscle-guns: “No time to sit around crying like a bunch of pussies”. Feelings of sadness, love, and need won’t be quieted, though, and the Beasts burst through at every turn - with Hurricane Katrina, a backdrop for the storms of a little girl’s troubling emotions. 

“Sometimes you can break something so bad you can’t get it put back together again.” Hushpuppy’s fear: that she’s “eaten her own Mommy and Daddy” - as all children do, in their understandably greedy need for love and security, to stave off the fear of loss. Hushpuppy, too adult, tries to face what she must: “Everyone loses the thing that made them. The brave must stay and watch it happen. They don’t run”. 

This little brave one finds her Mama and brings back Mama-cooked fried alligator; a last- meal love offering for her dad. The Beasts chase her, close behind. These Beasts are her Beasts - feelings of sadness, loss, and fear that must be felt. As Hushpuppy fiercely turns to face them, one of the Beasts kneels before her. Softening, she says: “You’re my friend, kind of”; not sure how safe her feelings are quite yet. As her dad holds her and they finally share a tearful goodbye, Hushpuppy’s Ice Age wall of toughness begins to melt: “When it all goes quiet behind my eyes, I see everything that made me . . . all the pieces are there”.  Yet, that wall, like the levee, needs time to deconstruct. There is still a lot of mourning to do.

This post was originally published on Dr. Jennifer Kunst's blog, Headshrinker's Guide To The Galaxy

THE SESSIONS

When Sex Is About More Than Sex

Photo Property of Fox Searchlight Pictures

‘The Sessions’, written and directed by Ben Lewin, sensitively portrays the longings, and poignant loneliness, of Mark O’Brien - a poet and journalist disabled by polio at age 6, living in an iron lung.  On the surface, ‘The Sessions’ is a story about sex surrogacy, sex in the disabled, and Mark O’Brien’s determination to lose his virginity and experience sex like any other man.  But, is ‘The Sessions’ really about sex?  At a deep level, I don’t think so.  

Sex, of course, is an important part of anyone’s life.  But, sex brings with it a host of other needs and feelings.  In Mark O’Brien’s case, intercourse wasn’t the only thing he wanted to achieve. Mostly, he was trying to overcome excruciating feelings of being unlovable; of believing no one wanted to touch him.  As he said himself in “On Seeing a Sex Surrogate”: “I wanted to be loved. I wanted to be held, caressed, and valued. But my self-hatred and fear were too intense . . . I doubted I deserved to be loved.” 

Before I went to see ‘The Sessions’, I watched, on YouTube, a short Academy Award-winning documentary called ‘Breathing Lessons’, made in 1996 by Jennifer Yu. Yu captured a very emotionally open Mark O’Brien – and showed, in raw detail, his excruciating self-hatred and feelings of ugliness.  Apparently, this documentary significantly influenced the movie and John Hawke’s development of the Mark O’Brien character.  But, after watching ‘Breathing Lessons’, I felt ‘The Sessions’ fell short of showing Mark’s real internal struggle.  How trapped, he was, not only inside the iron lung and a body whose muscles did not cooperate with his desires - but, more so, in his loneliness; in his belief that he was someone who couldn’t be loved.

Mark O’Brien did find love; not just sex. He found it, in spite of a self-hatred that might have made him shrink away from what he needed the most.  How did he do it?  He didn’t give up on himself.  I wouldn’t say he was optimistic exactly – at least ‘Breathing Lessons’ showed something quite close to hopelessness.  But, what he did have was a very strong will.  And, he didn’t deny his feelings, which his poetry gave him an outlet to express.  Sometimes, even, he was unabashedly open.  

It’s hard to stay open, when self-hatred is consuming – and, if anything, ‘The Sessions’ made it look a little too easy. Perhaps, that’s Hollywood. But, ‘The Sessions’, and most importantly, Mark’s life, did show the kind of courage and determination necessary to overcome those unrealistic self-hating feelings that can seem all too convincing.  Mark and ‘The Sessions’ (the movie and Cheryl Cohen Greene’s help) prove it’s not impossible.   Mark O’Brien’s life sends a strong message:  Never give up on what you want. 

This post was originally published on Dr. Jennifer Kunst's blog, Headshrinker's Guide To The Galaxy