Over the weekend I saw a very thought-provoking movie, one that I’d wanted to see for a while but always found an excuse to postpone because I knew it would be heavy: Tim Robbins’ Dead Man Walking. The book by the same name had rocked my world several years before, so I was curious. It tells the story of Sister Helen Prejean, a Louisiana nun (played by the fabulous Susan Sarandon) who reluctantly serves as a spiritual advisor to a death row inmate (played by the equally fabulous Sean Penn). Given writer-director Robbins’ far-left political views, I was surprised at how even-handedly he treated one of the toughest social questions we have: the death penalty. With great finesse he shows many sides of the issue: the inmate who is nearly impossible to love, even for a nun, the inmate’s relatives who understand his crime but don’t want him to die, the victims’ families who would gladly inject the poison themselves, the outside observers who are horrified that a nun would even talk to a convicted murderer.

With her typical brilliance, Sarandon subtly weaves a very complex and conflicted character, a nun who wants to serve God and help a man in great need but who is also disgusted by the inmate’s attitude and crimes. Penn’s convict hides behind a rough, barely endurable exterior but over time starts to crack, revealing glimpses of his own fear and pain.

Most of you probably have your minds made up regarding the death penalty. If you do, watching this film probably won’t change your mind, nor is that the film’s point. Robbins and crew want you to think about all sides of the debate and the impact on all the people involved. It comes down to the age-old question of justice versus mercy, a question with which I struggle constantly. The Old Testament advocates eye-for-an-eye justice, so many Christians who support the death penalty use the OT to justify their position. I think the New Testament, especially Jesus, advocate mercy, as Jesus did when the Pharisees brought him the woman caught in adultery whom the Law said should be stoned to death. I still haven’t decided which side is right as a matter of public policy, but I strongly recommend watching the movie and wrestling further with this question yourself.

For Date Night on Saturday, Jenny’s parents watched Brenden while we watched Pixar’s new movie Up in 3D. Going into it, I only knew it was an animated Pixar film about a guy who attaches balloons to his house and flies away, unknowingly carrying a boy and later meeting a talking dog.

Instead I got a deeply moving, heartwarming, funny, and creative work of art. Up was everything you’ve come to expect from Pixar – incredible animation from facial expressions to lush backgrounds, talking critters, perfectly chosen music that supports the story without distracting from it. The filmmakers used the 3D effect brilliantly, adding incredible realism without making it the star of the film.

But for me the true star was the story and character development. The star of the film is a 78-year-old man named Carl whose wife Ellie has died recently. All their lives they dreamed about going to Paradise Falls in South America for adventure, but as the saying goes, life is what happens while you’re making other plans. The morning he’s supposed to move out of their lifelong home into a retirement home, he ties 22,000 balloons to his house and heads south. Early in the film a montage tells the story of Carl and Ellie’s marriage. It was one of the most touching few minutes of film I have ever seen. A cartoon made me cry, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Throughout the film I was alternately laughing at the gags and tearing up along with Carl as he finished the journey to Paradise Falls with his memories of Ellie still intact.

Being animated, Up seems to be a kids’ movie, but it also touches on a variety of deep questions: If you never reach your dreams, is your life still worthwhile? Is accomplishing something still satisfying if you can’t share it with anyone? Should we even bother dreaming big, or is the real beauty of life in the mundane? Do I really make a difference in anyone’s life? Jenny and I had a nice discussion afterward at dinner about some of these issues.

Whether you are young or old, a fan or hater of animation, whoever you are, I urge you to go see Up. Drop the extra $3 for the 3D version, too. It’s worth it.

After having it on hand for probably 2 weeks or more (right around moving time), tonight Jenny and I finally watched this year’s Best Picture winner, Slumdog Millionaire. Before tonight I didn’t know much about it except that 1) It was a mostly Indian movie but directed by a Brit. 2) It won lots of awards including BP. 3) Everyone I knew who saw it had loved it. Sometimes I prefer to watch a movie without knowing what to expect.

We both LOVED it. The story and structure have many parallels to those of Forrest Gump. A young Indian man lives a wildly interesting life that fortuitously benefits him later when he becomes a contestant on India’s version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? The film alternates between present time and flashbacks to the young man’s childhood so you can see where he, as an uneducated orphan, gets the answers to each of the quiz show questions. Having never seen a film set entirely in India, I also enjoyed learning a bit about Indian culture and seeing a cast of unknowns get to shine. The rich colors, music, and accents provided a refreshing changeup from the American movies I usually watch. Add it to your Netflix if you haven’t seen it.

I didn’t know much about The Diving Bell and the Butterfly before I saw it other than a few mentions during the Oscars a couple years back. It’s a French drama with English subtitles, definitely a “me” movie.

It turned out to be a very moving film about a 40-ish man who has a stroke and becomes completely paralyzed except for his left eye and his mind. A therapist works out a system by which he can communicate with her by blinking. Eventually, through countless hours of tedious toil, he “dictates” a book about his experience and what he has learned. Great acting and direction bring to life the man’s gauntlet of emotions during his journey: confusion to bitterness to acceptance and determination. In some ways it reminded me of a book I read years ago called Johnny Got His Gun, a war movie about a veteran who is reduced to a limbless, bitter man with none of the 5 senses except touch. He communicates with his caregivers through Morse code.

Although not the right movie if you need a good laugh, this film really renewed my appreciation for the gift of life and all the little elements of life that most of us take for granted: the ability to walk, to talk, to hug and kiss a loved one, to enjoy a good meal. It’s easy to get so worked up with our own problems that we forget how good we have it. For example, I sometimes get discouraged that my knee won’t let me run as much as I would like. But I guarantee there are many people who would be thrilled just to be able to walk.