Keep remembering: this isn’t a review. This is Movie Yoga — about how a movie transforms me in some way — can make my life a little bit better — a little bit more whole. So this is what happened for me in District 9. Even if I had hated it, I could have done some good work on myself with it anyway. Except I adored it — if you read the book you know that’s my youngest son Bryn’s and my highest praise. Hot new director — a Peter Jackson find, I hear. And I’m happy for Bill Block and the crew at QED Intl. Block always has a great instinct.
What’d I get as I let the movie show me something about myself? Big news: I’m still an interplanetary gypsy lookin’ for another epic — to feel like I’m livin’ my life on the mythic level. And, lord, for my sins I found one. This one killed me. Okay: SPOILER ALERT! Look, go see this thing. I’ve got one intense top ten, and District 9 crashed the party easy as you please.
There’s a totally unlikeable main character who winds up with an awesome arc, becomes an epic hero, sacrifices himself for others, until by the end I’m just weeping for this dude. That final scene sequence: his wife and the metal flower — him on the garbage heap making another flower for her, transformation complete. And that’s not to mention the two aliens — father and son — god, what love, what chemistry. This alien kid…I’m talking lovable.
Remember: Movie Yoga’s about me getting insights into myself — how I change and grow. So you know that’s what I’m always lookin’ for: love among the ruins. Like Sarah Connor and Kyle Reese, hands clasped, desperate — a short, swift safe port with the black storm, the Terminator, just out there, closing in. Everything desperate, on the line — one chance for that moment of ecstasy. That kind of thing.
This one’s tough to watch, too, in a David Cronenburg/Jeff Goldblum Fly kind of way. But War Zone hot — you know, that fight-to-be-born third stage of the four Seasons of Transformation we humans are always going through — the death before the rebirth. District 9′s also got that bio-mechanoid thing happening from the great Swiss artist H.R. Giger: amazing sequence with the relentless villain systematically destroying the mechanized robot with the hero inside– this is awesome computer work — it’s mechanical, but absolutely graceful too — like supple steel flesh contorting as it’s getting hammered over and over — this dance, this death agony. With this incredible sound track that crescendos in the final credits, perfect for the kind of music we use in Holotropic Breathwork. The track elevating everything the way an epic track has to for the movie to have “that thing”.
And the alien ship, hovering over the city? The rise of the little ship into the mother? Yes, I wept. But so what? This is where I do my cryin’ — get my catharsis, get cleaned out, renewed — what Movie Yoga’s all about. Great movie? Who the hell knows? But did it work for me? Did it have that thing? Was I transformed in some way by experiencing it? You better believe it. So, I’m closer to Home than I was before I went. My heart’s singin’ as I write. I got my longin’ on — my bhakti trip. I’m dialin’ seriously long distance one more time. Gonna let it ring til somebody picks up. Earth callin’ District 9. Like the Boss says, Tryin’ to find my way Home. Is there anybody alive out there? After District 9, I got no doubt.