Into the Wild

Saw "Into the Wild" last night, the movie about an Emory (Emory was my back-up school!) grad who renounces his family and the material world and embarks on a two year journey to find himself. First of all, I saw a trailer for the movie a few weeks ago, and it gives the general impression that it's a joyful celebration of nature and of a heroic quest. I had read the book on which the film is based, so I knew better, but it seemed clear that distributors were trying to capitalize on the escapist aspect of the beautiful scenery, etc., that was a part of the movie.

Turns out it's a lot more than nice wide shots of landscape - it's really pretty tragic. Now, I love going into the wilderness as much as the next guy, but the movie was a little unsettling at times. I initially felt like they were showing us the "right" way, the "pure" way to experience nature, almost making an example of McCandless (the protagonist). But really, I think his was a perverse use of nature, used as a standard of purity and beauty -- a standard that his previous life and his parents could never hope of matching. He also uses the great American West as an escape route, and he found it easier to run away into the outdoors than face his problems and try to fix them. But the movie also delivered some wisdom, noting through McCandless that "happiness is only real when shared." This revelation serves as the culmination in his search for meaning, and it's elegant simplicity struck me. In an age when we are ever more eager to seek personal achievements and glorify individuals, it's the people we surround ourselves with that are most important.

(Insert group hug here).