The movie Collateral Beauty is out soon. It’s a story about a father (Will Smith) who loses a child, and how his friends (Kate Winslet, Edward Norton et al) try to help him move beyond his grief and get back to living. I have a friend who lost a child, and she has a few things to say about that premise.
She asked to post anonymously, and I agreed, because her message is important. Our society is awkward around grief, sometimes showing disdain, and we make it difficult for those who are grieving to give themselves permission to do so on their own schedule (a good book on this is The Long Goodbye by Meghan O’Rourke).
Here are my dear friend’s intelligent, emotional—yes, it’s okay to show emotion!—and wise words on grief and Collateral Beauty’s flawed assertion.
Okay, can we talk about Collateral Beauty? Like, beyond the whole “Oh, look. There’s another sappy movie out in time for Christmas?” Beyond the “Will Smith can do better” convo.
Maybe it’s the “bereaved parent finds meaning again” trope that I want to complain about. Or “the death of a child changed the father’s/mother’s entire personality” trope. Or it’s Hollywood’s version of what it means to be a bereaved parent–what that looks like, what that should be–that I want to get to the heart of.
Despite what this movie trailer is trying to portray, time and love don’t heal all, and it’s both dangerous and upsetting to buy into this. It’s dangerous because this homogenized version of grief tells us there’s a right way and a wrong way to grieve, that there’s a hierarchy to grief, and that some people’s grief should be prioritized over others. That’s bullshit.
I’ve been at the grief game for a while now. I’m out of fingers and toes to deal with all the loss I’ve experienced over the years. So, hopefully you’ll believe me when I say I know a thing or two, and that there’s one truth about grief: There’s no right or wrong way to grieve. (Okay, obviously there are a few detrimental ways. Please don’t abuse yourself, physically or with drugs or alcohol, or others in the process. I could also write a lengthy dissertation on blame and grief.)
No one should tell you how to grieve. Especially Hollywood.
There’s a moment in Collateral Beauty where Edward Norton says, “I just want my friend back.” Well, your friend wants his daughter back, you dick, so how about you STFU, sit back and just be in his airspace until he comes to you? Why’s that too hard for movies and TV, or, hell, even our families and loved ones to get?
I remember being obvious about my grief to an EMS guy in a Starbucks once, and feeling horribly guilty afterwards for being obvious. But now I know it wasn’t my fault; it was society’s for telling us there’s a time and a place for grief, and it isn’t out in the open.
Fuck that. The place for grief is wherever we need it to be.
I remember another moment, two days after my son died. I saw a boy just a little older than my son, a cute moppet with blonde curly hair, coming out of a Starbucks (I have way too many moments at my local Starbucks). All I wanted was to feel the weight of a child in my arms. I can’t tell you what compelled me, but I asked his mother if I could hold him. She agreed. It was exactly what I needed.
Why can’t we be like that as a society all the time? Why can’t we ask for what we need in our grief? Why can’t people around us help us fill those needs instead of interjecting their own? Why can’t we grieve out in the open; even if the grief isn’t recent, even if it isn’t exactly ours? I watched the Gaycation documentary regarding the Orlando shootings recently; there was a person not directly attached to the tragedy who cried about it, and then apologized.
That’s such a wasted gesture. And I’ve done it. Multiple times. Because we’re taught by unrealistic depictions of grief in the media that it needs to be hidden. We’re also taught that if we’re not over it by some prescribed amount of time, there’s something wrong with us. That, too, is bullshit. It’s six years and change since my son’s life slipped through my hands and I’m not over it. Not by a long shot. I’m okay with that.
Do Not Apologize For Your Grief! Ever!
Don’t apologize, even if you think someone has it “worse” than you. A helpful part of my first bereavement support group meeting wasn’t that I shared my story; it’s that I heard everyone else’s. We all revealed different shades of pain and hurt and remorse. Some were sharper and closer to the surface than others. It didn’t make my pain any more or less painful. It just made it more relatable.
Keeping grief close to the vest, or homogenizing it in movies like Collateral Beauty, invalidates it. It makes us think we have to go to horrible depths to make it valid. I remember a story about a person who lost his son. His wife turned to drugs and alcohol. Why? I don’t know for sure. But I can theorize plenty. Maybe she’d never seen grief up close. Maybe she’d never been exposed to grief in a way she could digest or understand. Maybe the only versions of grief she knew were dramatized or homogenized, and her grief didn’t feel that way and she needed something else to help with the pain.
There’s a moment in the trailer in which the Time character tells Will Smith he’s missing life, and I wanted to yell a hearty “FU!” at my screen. He lost his daughter. He’s allowed to miss out on capital “L” life, capital “M” moments. Every day isn’t fucking Hallmark cards and roses when you start L-I-V-I-N again. The fact that the Dickens-esque Christmas-Carol-type characters in this movie are trying to convince us otherwise is horrible. I don’t care if Death is Helen Mirren. And let me tell you something, if Love was to suddenly embody a person, said person would not be Kiera Knightly, no offense to her (adored you in Pride and Prejudice and Bend it Like Beckham, Kiera! Call me).
The only part of the trailer I liked was that Will Smith’s character wrote letters, telling Death, Time and Love what he felt and what he was going through, because at least he found an outlet for it. (If you haven’t found an outlet for your grief, and you need someone to share it with, someone who will do whatever you need to find a balance with the grief, there are outlets.)
If everyone around you is telling you to do things JUST SO, I’m here to tell you to do what you need to do. As long as you aren’t hurting yourself or anyone else, what you need to do with your grief is the right fucking call.
If you are grieving a loss, no matter the size, grieve. Make a scene in a Starbucks. Hold a stranger’s child (you know, if they let you), hold onto a stuffed animal, scream into the void, cry really ugly tears. And whatever you do, don’t apologize for it. Your grief isn’t wrong.
Do you have opinions on how our culture deals with grief, or have you experienced a time when you found it difficult to express your grief? Please feel free to share below.
– Images courtesy of Unsplash
Marie Bailey says
Thank you so much for this post! It’s not likely I would have seen Collateral Beauty anyway because I’m not one for sappy movies. Perhaps if the film wasn’t trying to send a message (assuming it is because apparently some actors are representing big concepts like Time and Death), if it were only telling one person’s story, it would be more palatable. Everyone should deal with their grief in their own way and seeing one person’s story may resonate with some and not others and that’s okay. But suggesting that anyone and everyone grieving should “get over it” just because their grief makes other people uncomfortable, well, that’s just cold and cruel. I still grieve over the loss of a family friend who died many years ago. He was almost 90 and was ready to go. But it was a shock to my heart because I was still clinging to that childhood belief that he would live forever. His wasn’t the first death in my life, but our relationship was deep and wide, much like a grandfather to a granddaughter and I still miss him and still feel that dull pain deep in my chest whenever I think of him. I’ve never gotten over his death. The best I can do is integrate his death into my life. I have an old 8×10 photo of him on my mantle. I have an essay I wrote about him a long time ago that I read every once in a while. I don’t forget that he’s dead, but I do relish memories of his life.
Laura Zera says
“The best I can do is integrate his death into my life” — that is beautiful and honest, Marie. As somebody posted on FB, grief waxes and wanes, which really resonated with me.
I get what you’re saying about the story of one person in the movie; I think what can happen for others is that they look at that one-person storyline about grief and think, “what’s wrong with me, why can’t I do that?”
Thank you for stopping by today! xo
Marie Bailey says
Ah, yes, grief does wax and wane, and sometimes it hits you hard upside the head when you least expect it. A few years ago, a friend’s father died after a long illness. She was very close to him and was grief-stricken. She knew he was dying and she was able to be with him up to the very end, but letting go was very painful. So she grieved in the “normal” way by taking care of the arrangements, making sure her mom was okay, all that stuff. Then several months later she fell into such a deep depression that she couldn’t work, she couldn’t eat. She lost a lot of weight off her already slim body. When she told me about her depression, she seemed perplexed that she, an adult woman with adult children, should be feeling so depressed over her father’s death. The thing is, he had made her feel safe and without him, she felt unmoored. The best I could do is share my own continuing grief over the death of my family friend and anecdotes of other people who continue to grieve long after everyone thinks they should have gotten over it. That is, I tried to tell her what she felt was normal and that maybe it was because she was trying to ignore her feelings that she became depressed. It hurt to see her in such pain but I wasn’t surprised she was. I only wish she hadn’t thought something was wrong with her because she was still grieving.
Laura Zera says
Yes, yes, yes! It is so hard to feel the pain, and if we don’t let it in, it just creeps up behind us, but bigger. But I’m glad that your friend had you to talk to!!
Josie says
Hi Laura and Anonymous contributor,
Lovely job. You both know how to get a the meat and heart of the issue, connecting to us in real terms and raw emotion.
Good stuff and full of value for those in need.
~Josie
Laura Zera says
Thanks so much for your kind comment, Josie!
Jeri says
I’m grieving someone who isn’t dead (aka the dirtbag ex who abandoned me), and it can be tough when everyone seems to have an opinion about how to go about the stages of grief. It’s most certainly is not a homogenized process, and a great deal of happiness can joy can be interspersed in between the times the grieving person is trying to process all that happened and freaking out and crying and all that jazz. Hollywood does love its sunshine and rainbows and silver linings. It makes for a good sappy movie, but life in its unrelenting stampede really doesn’t do sunshine and rainbows much at all.
Laura Zera says
Your comment about lots of joy interspersed with grieving is also so relevant, because I know I have thought at times that I *should* have been grieving, but I was feeling *too* happy in a moment. But you’ve got to grab onto both as they ride by, and sometimes only nanoseconds apart. Which can be slightly crazy-making.
Maybe sunshine and happy endings is why we keep turning to Hollywood when we can’t/won’t get them in our own lives? But ultimately, I think it messes with our heads. I binge-watch rom-coms when I’m feeling in a disconnected place in my romantic relationships (past and present), and it really doesn’t help! It only makes me more morose over what my relationship is lacking!
Documentaries. That’s the answer.
Thanks for being here, Jeri.
Ashley says
I found this post after googling “Collateral Beauty review”, and was saddened by it. I want to note that I have never lost a child, so I didn’t watch the trailer or the movie from that perspective. With that said, I did not receive the same messages from the trailer that you did. I think you might realize that you jumped the gun a bit in your judgment of the film and the messages within it. It’s not just about a grieving father, and the messages expressed in the film are pretty universal. There was a beauty in the story. But with art, we will all walk away with a different interpretation. I encourage you to see it not because I think your experience will be a clone of my own, but because I truly believe you will walk away pleasantly surprised.
However, I appreciate your honesty in relaying your feelings surrounding grieving a child. As human beings, we don’t come preprogrammed knowing how to go through complex emotional circumstances in a particular way. I have friends whose lives were turned upside down by grief, and others who appeared to be unaffected by their losses. As you said, outside of harm to yourself or others, grief should be a respected process that’s allowed to run its course. No matter how long it takes. With that said, I would hope that you understand that people who love grieving parents don’t just “want their friend back” for their own sakes. Loving someone means experiencing their grief with them; albeit, it’s a secondary sense of it. It hurts to see someone you love in so much pain, and wanting them back is really about wanting to see them happy. Or at least out of pain. As creatures living a human experience, we must learn to cut each other some slack on both ends of a situation. None of us are getting it “right” because in cases of grief, there really is no such thing.
Laura Zera says
Hi Ashley, thank you for reading, and for your thoughtful comment. I will make sure to share it with the person who wrote that post. xo
Melanie says
Thank you for this forthright and helpful “heads up” about what will undoubtedly be a popular movie. I lost my son to a motorcycle accident 31 months ago. I am fed up with the way our society sections off, smoothes over and shuts out grief!
Why do we disallow such an important part of life? It’s not my responsibility to undergird the fairy tale fantasy of those who (so far) have managed to get by without experiencing heartbreak.
I’ve shared your insight with other grieving parents. Again, thank you!
Ashley says
A fairytale it is indeed, and no one should indulge it. Honestly, I think people have a hard time dealing with any other emotion other than happiness. And there a many people who don’t know how to deal with that one yet either. As a whole, society doesn’t allow people to grieve because the discomfort sometimes forces us into that grief with the grief-stricken. Or reminds us of the personal grief we’ve tried to stuff down and ignore. We don’t like the vulnerability that comes with that because we’re taught that it makes us weak.
But to deny the profound impact that the loss of a valued life and relationship has on us is foolish, and harmful in the long run. Some people will know this instinctively, but many others will need to see others (like yourself) facing grief in order to know how necessary it is to do the same. Thank you for your message. It is definitely necessary these days.
Laura Zera says
Beautifully said, Ashley. Thank you. xo
Laura Zera says
Hi Melanie, thank you for your comment and for sharing this post. The mother who wrote the post wanted me to pass on that she read your comment and was deeply touched by what you had to say, and she’s glad what she had to say resonated and was comforting to you.
I’m so sorry about the loss of your son. Much love to you.
Melanie says
Thank you so much. I’m sure this review will be welcome warning to many grieving parents.
Anonymous (Writer of this post) says
To Melanie and Ashley I just wanted to say thank you for the kind, thought provoking words you’ve left in recent days on this post.
But there is something I want to talk about. I’m not sure I’ll make the most cogent statements here, but there was something in the idea of a fairy-tale notion of grief in the comments from Melanie and Ashley that struck me. I don’t think any person is under a fairy-tale notion of grief, not the way I understand fairy-tales anyway. I just don’t think we as a society do a good job explaining what grief actually is that it is easy for a person who has never truly experienced it to dilute or distort what grief is for his or herself.
It’s easy to point fingers at the person/people/movie/movies and say they are the problem (Like I did in this post, heh) it’s a harder thing to provide those people with knowledge about what grief is and how to absorb it (which I hope my post was helping to do in some small way).
And it’s not exactly the job of the grieving to educate or explain their grief to someone else. It really shouldn’t be at all. But there has to be a happy medium there. For me, it’s making my vulnerability into a strength instead of a weakness and letting my scars show in ways I feel are appropriate. I am no longer making scenes in starbucks, but I am telling people I feel deserve to know I’ve suffered a loss. I want them to know about it and that by letting them in on that loss and who I lost and just how beautiful and wonderful that person was, I want them to move that legacy forward. I don’t want them carrying the loss around for me, I want them to keep a light shining for those who can no longer do such a thing. In some ways it makes that loss easier.
Sometimes I’m going to grieve because there’s less to grieve. Sometimes I hurt because the hurt I feel isn’t as sharp and pronounced as it once was. Not everyone is going to understand that but I hope we can work together as a people, as a society to try.
Melanie says
Thank you for that insight-I’m with you-we who grieve have the opportunity (when we feel able) to help those who don’t understand more what it actually feels like. I have blogged my journey for a little over a year although it was nearly 18 months after my son’s accident that I began to share.
I try to be as honest as possible-the good, the bad and the ugly for that very reason
Thank you for sharing part of your story here.
Renada says
Thank you for your post!!! Grieving mother here for 7 years… and the only advice I ever gotten that has truly touched my heart and made me realize that it is ok to feel this way even tho still today I go and hide in my car away from friends and family and cry cry cry … my father had lost my sister I of course was way to young to remember much but when I was flat on my face about almost a year later trying to calm myself down from going into a panic attack that just hit me out of no where (PTSD) so certain smells can trigger one out of anywhere , thinking to myself that I was doing extremely well to hide what I mentally was going through as my father was walking up to me, well I guess a father just knows his daughter and sat beside me and I will never forget these words, he stated, “ You know you will never get over this, You will just learn to live with it.!” That to me was the most purest honesty anyone has ever given me through all my ups and downs. The rest of my family keep telling me to let him go, finally after hearing this so many times I finally blew up and said how, how dare anyone tell anyone that is grieving to let him go!!!! And I finally had to stand my ground and say you know just because I cry or I have my depress days doesn’t mean that I am giving up on my life and they all should actually be proud of me for not running to drugs and Alcohol just to try and find an oz of numbness … and they all should try and get to know the new me cause the old me died when my son passed!!! It has forever changed me … so thank you for letting people know they are aloud to be human and have there days where they fall apart and pick themselves back up Love is a powerful emotion and honestly I feel closer to him when I have my melt downs not sure if this is normal but it’s the way I feel…
Laura Zera says
Renada, I’m so very sorry for your enormous loss. Truly. And I’m so glad this piece resonated with you because really the most important thing in the world is to know that whatever it is that you’re feeling, someone else out there is feeling like that, too. You are never alone. And your grief is yours alone, to experience however you want or need to. Thank you for sharing a bit of your story and struggle and I wish you all the best as you live with this loss. – Laura
Renada says
Thank you Laura for reaching out to me.. yes I was glad myself that I came across this page I have wanted to reach out to people for a while now since I’ve been able to pick myself up and let others know there truly not alone and there feelings and thoughts are absolutely normal and no one has the right to take that from them.