Things I Am Loving RIGHT Now
I’ve decided to start a new feature on this blog called “Things I Am Loving RIGHT Now.” Friday seems like a good day to showcase these finds although who knows if that will stick. I have not been paid, compensated or asked to promote any of these things. My love can not be bought 😉 Although it can be fickle which is why I am loving them RIGHT now. Tomorrow…..maybe not so much. These are things that have made my week more enjoyable and I want to share them with whoever is out there listening.
This week’s “Thing I Am Loving RIGHT now” is a film currently available on Netflix called Calibre.
The film kept popping up on my “recommended list” so I finally gave in and watched it.
I have trouble sleeping at night so I watched it at 2:00 am.
I watched it blind, having not read any reviews or descriptions.
I watched it through the gaps in my fingers held over my eyes.
I watched it on my tablet, in bed, while my husband slept. Then I woke him up to tell him how scared I was. Once he determined that my fear was coming from “the box” and not someone breaking in or fire breaking out, he rolled over and left me alone with Calibre.
Now I must disclose that I love horror movies. It is a love that goes back to my childhood when my parents divorced and my father would have my brother and I for the summer. Looking back, I realize he had NO idea what to do with two somewhat unruly kids for that length of time, so we made a LOT of trips to the video store. Those were the days where the movies came on big bulky VHS tapes (be kind rewind) and it was a novelty to be able to roam the aisles and pick out a movie (or ten.)
I gravitated to the horror section.
I was about twelve at the time and had been pretty sheltered for most of my life. I KNEW there was bad in the world. I had been warned about bad, heard whispers of bad, but had never seen bad face to face.
This was my chance.
When I approached my father with a pile of Texas Chainsaw this and Friday the Thirteenth that he asked “Would your mother let you watch those?” when I responded “No” he agreed to let me rent them all. Not a great parenting strategy, but it became “our thing.”
It became “our thing” my brother, my father and I, to sit cross legged on the couch eating popcorn, drinking orange soda and shrieking at men in hockey masks stalking camp counselors. (Side note: I slept with my shoes RIGHT next to my bed for years so I would not be one of those barefoot girls who stepped on a rock and could only hobble away.)
It became “our thing” to egg each other on, dare each other not to look away, as Freddy, Jason or Michael Myers lurked in the shadows ready to pounce. I was always the first to avert my gaze, to hide behind my hands and beg to be told when it was over. My father was not always the most stable, reliable person, but these movies gave me a chance to need him, and him a chance to protect us from the “boogeyman.”
No one can protect you from Calibre.
It is not that kind of a film.
The “boogeyman” in this movie is not lurking in the shadows. This “boogeyman” already lives inside each and every one of us. In this movie, to see the “bad” one only has to look in the mirror.
The “boogeyman” in Calibre is the manifestation of moral failing.
This is a movie where one bad decision leads to another leads to another leads to another.
This is a movie where every crossroad comes with a choice: the right thing vs. self preservation.
But self preservation at what cost when every decision that leads that direction leaves you a husk of the person you once were?
This is a movie where the physical gore (yes…there is gore) is a relief from the psychological horror, a penitence the viewing audience is willing to pay for a moment of mental relief.
This is a movie that is excruciatingly hard to watch because it feels very close. The “good guys” and the “bad guys” are hard to tell apart because there exists such a duality in all of us; all that separates one from the other, all that keeps the monsters in all of us at bay, are the decisions and choices that we make.
Calibre begs the questions “What is the hierarchy of life?” “Is one life worth more than another?” and “If we are willing to do anything to survive, what part of us remains? What exactly survives?”
Sweet Tea The Narwhal And Me 