Showing posts with label Stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stories. Show all posts

Friday, November 16, 2012

I've got just the thing

What follows is a snippet of dialogue from the movie Chocolat.

The movie opens with a shot of a small French village in Burgundy. It is February, the sky is grey,  and a cold north wind blows leaves down a deserted cobble stone street. All the doors are closed, the windows shuttered.

A stranger, a dark haired woman, and her daughter arrive. Vianne Rocher, is the stranger. She proceeds to set up shop as a chocolatier. A chocolatier is not just a chocolate maker, but an artiste, one who makes chocolate seem a most beautiful piece of art. And Vianne makes the most extraordinary confectionaries. Each chocolat is special, each chocolat has its own qualities, each chocolat has a story.

Her timing could not be worse, for it is the season of lent in this most traditional of French villages. Vianne works hard to open the shop. Meanwhile, a parade of curious town characters come to inspect her delicacies. Each of them have a story to tell.

Vianne and a Cranky Old Woman 
[An old woman enters the shop and inspects Vianne's chocolats]


Vianne Rocher: What do you see?
Armande Voizin: Not a damned thing.




Vianne Rocher: Come on, it's a game. What do you see?
Armande Voizin: I see a cranky old woman too tired to play games.
Vianne Rocher: Oh. I've got just the thing for you.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Scent of a Woman

Scent of a Woman - remember the 1992 film that tells the story of a preparatory school student who takes a job as an assistant to an irascible, blind, medically retired Army officer? It stars Chris O'Donnell as the student and Al Pacino as the cranky retired Army officer. It is a remake of the 1974 Italian movie Profumo di donna.

Movies imitate life. And Movies are about a lot of things, as is life. Surely, this movie was about a coming of age moment for Charlie Simms, Chris O'Donnell's character. Friends, teachers, code of honor, success, and all that. But simultaneously the movie deals with the emotional issues surrounding Lieutenant Colonel Frank Slade, Pacino's character. Blind and useless to anyone, he tackles life's most basic issue, to be or not to be.

Who can forget the memorable weekend visit of Charlie and Lt. Col. Slade to New York City? The stay in the Waldorf Astoria? The tango? "Whooyaa." And, of course, Slade - yes blind Slade - in a crazy testosterone driven drive in a Ferrari through the streets of New York City? Slade depending on Charlie for directions. Charlie quaking in his seat, Slade relishing the thrill. Slade begins speeding, attracting the attention of a police officer, who Slade manages to appease without giving away his blindness.

Management is all about direction and decision. Managers give direction and, in return, depend on others for direction. Managers make decisions that often mean life or death for a business. And business is just a fast Ferrari speeding through the narrow streets of New York. And whether the business crashes or not depends on the communication between driver and passenger.

As a manager, I often feel like Lt. Col. Frank Slade's character. Blind and out of control I make decisions depending on the direction that I get from those who are along for the ride. Employees are sometimes afraid to speak. Afraid of offending or saying the wrong thing. Afraid of being blamed for the crash that may come when things get out of control. Instead, it is safer to sit in the passenger seat quietly and gaze out the window.

Life is for the most part all about others. Whether we want it that way or not, we depend on others.

Managers know that. And blind Slade understood it best. Throughout the movie, Slade directed and yet was moved along by others. Just for fun, here is a scene from the movie. The music is Carlos Gardel's tango Por una Cabeza, danced by Slade and a charming companion portrayed by Gabrielle Anwar.

Don't forget the memorable line that Pacino delivers when O'Donnell's character tries to order a beer from a suspicious waiter. "Schlitz, no Schlitz, Blatz, no Blatz, improvise." That's another life lesson.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Ethan Frome

If you dig deep enough and you will find a story. And this search for a story will reveal a moment that is life altering. It is a moment where the the heavens above tilt one way or the other, and the course of the stars change for good or bad, and one's life is moved from happiness to desperation and misery, or, the other way around. A good storyteller who properly tells the story, will reveal that there exist other moments, other events, and other decisions that play a part in that final moment.

Edith Wharton, through the literary device of the flashback, uses an unnamed narrator to tell the story of Ethan Frome, a strikingly tall man with a powerful look despite his lameness, a man who now looks as if he was "dead and in hell." In what happened twenty-four years before, lies the story - a young man whose dreams were dashed by the decisions of those around him, and, ultimately, by his own choice.

Laid up in the small New England town of Starkfield for the winter, the narrator sets out to learn the mysterious story. When a violent snowstorm forces the narrator into an overnight stay at the Frome household, the narrator is told the story by Ethan himself.

Flashback - Ethan is walking through snowy Starkfield at midnight. In the basement lights of a village church, Ethan catches sight of a young girl in a cherry-colored scarf. She is his wife’s cousin, Mattie Silver, who has been living with the Fromes for over a year, helping to take care of the house and Ethan's sickly and bitter wife Zeena.

When the dance lets out, Ethan catches up with Mattie to walk her home. A sense of thrill is apparent between Ethan and Mattie, which, when the two arrive home, is also apparent to the sickly Zeena. Without a word to Zeena and with thoughts only of Mattie, Ethan goes to bed.

Ethan 's opportunity to be alone with Mattie comes the next day when his wife announces that she has decided to seek treatment for her illness in a neighboring town, and will spend the night there with relatives. Ethan is excited  and goes into town to make a lumber sale, but hurries home to Mattie in time for supper.

The evening meal between the two is a scene of non-verbalized thoughts; as well as, the unspoken presence of Zeena, symbolized by a favorite pickle dish which falls to the floor and shatters. Ethan fails in his courage to express his inner thoughts and the two separately go to bed. The next day Zeena returns and informs Ethan that her health is failing quickly and that she plans to hire someone to replace Mattie.

Spurred on by Zeena's resolve to remove Mattie from the house,  Ethan goes to the kitchen and kisses Mattie passionately. He tells Mattie of Zeena’s plans, but the moment is interrupted by Zeena herself. That evening, Ethan contemplates his choices. Unable to prevent Mattie's dismissal, Ethan contemplates eloping with Mattie, and even begins to draft a letter of farewell to Zeena. But considering his financial situation, Ethan realizes that his dream is unreal.

At breakfast the next day, Zeena announces plans for Mattie’s departure and the arrival of the new hired girl. Later, Ethan steals into town with a plan to collect an advance on a recently delivered lumber load, and thereby pay for his and Mattie's escape. But, on the way,  Ethan encounters a neighbor's wife who praises him for his patience in caring for the ailing Zeena. Her words touch his conscience and he returns to the farm..

Against Zeena’s wishes, Ethan decides to drive Mattie to the railroad station himself. Ethan takes a roundabout route and ends up stopping at the top of the village hill. There they agree to fulfill a sledding adventure they once proposed but had never undertaken. After the first run prompts Mattie suggests a second, but with a different purpose. Together, they will run the sled into the elm tree at the foot of the hill, and end their last moments together. Ethan rejects her idea initially, but is won over. Together, they lock themselves in a final embrace headed down the hill toward the big elm. After the collision, Ethan languidly reached out to touch Mattie's hair and feel her face. In the darkness that enveloped them, he saw her weakly open her eyes and say his name.

Twenty years forward and the narrator enters the Frome's kitchen where two frail and aging women bicker. The drone of their querulous chatter stops as the narrator enters; Frome, glancing about at the poor condition of the room, apologizes for the cold. Then, he introduces the narrator to the two women - the first a tall bony figure, with pale opaque eyes revealing nothing and reflecting nothing, as his wife, "Mis' Frome", and to the second seated, paralyzed woman in the chair by the fire, with eyes that had a dark-witch like stare, as —"Miss Mattie Silver".

Edith Wharton likely based her story of Ethan Frome on an incident that she had heard about early in her life. In 1904 a sledding accident involving four girls and one boy occurred on Courthouse Hill in Lennox, Massachusettes. One of the girls was killed when the sled struck a lamppost.

Wharton heard about the story from another of the girls who became her friend later in life. As tragic events go, it was the death of the girl that was long remembered. It remained for Edith Wharton to give the event a story that would live on. And while the story of Ethan Frome is fictitious, the characters and events are real enough that they resonate with readers even today.