Last weekend, I finally got the chance to see Steven
Spielberg’s latest, Disclosure Day. I walked out with so many
feelings that I knew I had to write about it immediately.
The movie deals with the cover-up of alien life forms and
the few special people brave enough to expose it, showing the world that we are
definitely not alone. As an 80s kid, Spielberg was the benchmark for my
creativity. E.T. was one of the first movies I ever saw in a
theater, and Spielberg still has that special kind of magic. Even with a few
"stinkers" in his filmography, when he hits, he hits. The score and
the themes of Disclosure Day brought me right back to being
that 10-year-old kid sitting in the dark, eyes wide at the screen.
I won't give too much away, but there are some great car
chases, a wild scene involving a train, and plenty of that dystopian sci-fi I
love. The movie is set against the backdrop of a looming nuclear war—the news
is obsessed with it, totally unaware that something much bigger is heading
their way.
But what really struck a chord with me wasn't the aliens; it
was the human element. The film touches on childhood trauma, with the main
characters reliving memories they’d suppressed since they were ten years old.
Emily Blunt’s character has a beautifully done scene where she has to face that
fear, but she has people there to help her through it.
I’m not a movie critic, and I’m not writing this just to
tell you to go buy a ticket. I’m writing this because of what the movie says
about empathy.
It’s a powerful reminder that people are fighting battles we
know nothing about. They’ve gone through shit we can’t even fathom. Often, when
we hurt someone, we justify it by saying we were just "defending
ourselves." We don’t stop to think about how our actions made the other
person feel. Empathy is something I’ve really been working on this past year,
but if I’m being honest, I feel like I’ve failed at it tremendously over the
last few weeks. This movie was the wake-up call I needed to get back on that horse.
Disclosure Day reminds us how limited our time
is. It reminds us that being human doesn’t mean we are the most powerful beings
in the universe. There’s a scene where a character asks if God made humans His
greatest creation, and the response was: "The greatest creation on Earth."
Life isn't black and white. We all have our quirks. In
Chicago, putting ketchup on a hot dog is an outrage, but that doesn't mean
people don't like it! Some people love loud bars; some don't. Some people find
yoga "too much"; others live by it. We are all entitled to our own
choices, even if others try to shame us for them.
We can never have enough empathy. While we have to protect
our own peace, putting ourselves in someone else’s shoes helps us navigate life
in a more meaningful way.
At the end of the day, we are all human. We are all
connected. I hate the idea of war, whether it's between countries or just
political bickering. I hate bullying and inequality. But I love the idea that
we can change. Sometimes it takes a massive event to make us see each other as
we truly are: one consciousness, one race, one world.
NMF.
M
