There are moments in our lives when something comes unexpectedly to give us a lesson or two. One of these moments came when I accidentally caught the screening of The Shawshank Redemption on TV. It was 1999. I was jobless, and literally had nothing to do except surf the only three available TV channels in our barrio.
I had previous — albeit limited — knowledge of the movie. In a video store, I chanced upon a CD of the movie, the blurb telling me about the seven Oscar nominations it had received. (It never won an Oscar.)
I dismissed the teaser as another capitalist propaganda. The fact that the movie was relatively unknown and a commercial disappointment made me ignore Shawshank.
So it came to pass that I stumbled upon the movie on TV and there was no better program to watch. And it led me to discover a gem of a film.
The Shawshank Redemption is about a young, successful banker (Andy Dufresne, played by Tim Robbins) pronounced guilty of murdering his wife and her lover. He was sent to Shawshank State Prison where he became a victim of notorious rapists, witnessed the brutal prison system, and saw the warden’s corrupt practices.
The bright spot in Andy’s prison life was his friendship with Red (Morgan Freeman), with whom Andy shared his innocence. Their friendship began when Andy approached Red since the latter could bring in stealthily anything to fellow prisoners for the right price. Andy requested a rock hammer to resume a hobby: rock collection. He also requested a wall poster of Rita Hayworth.
For the most part of the movie, I was disappointed with Andy for he was not doing anything to fight for the review of his case. This was despite the fact that he was vice president of a bank and had the resources to prove his alleged innocence. Worse, he was allowing the warden to use his accounting knowledge to hide Norton’s illegal activities.
I also pitied Andy for he was sexually assaulted many times by the resident rapists. To his credit, he also fought back and succeeded once. Eventually the guards protected him from the perverts because of his accounting work.
After more than a decade, hope shone for Andy when a new prisoner knew an acquaintance who had claimed to have killed Andy’s wife and her lover. The new prisoner was credible and genuinely wanted to help Andy. But the warden arranged for his (the new prisoner’s) murder. Andy’s hopes for freedom were dashed.
Or so I thought.
One day, Andy suddenly disappeared. The Shawshank Prison was aghast and searched for him in every nook and cranny. Apparently he had escaped.
Dumbfounded, the warden searched for clues in Andy’s cell. Exasperated, he discovered that Andy had created a tunnel using a rock hammer — and the poster was his cover!
Surprisingly, only in the final part of the movie did I discover the clever escape plan of Andy. It was a rousing success for he was never located by the authorities. He ran away with a lot of money he had laundered in connivance with the warden and, via a letter to a local newspaper, exposed the corrupt prison system (with enough damning evidence that led to the warden’s suicide).
The Shawshank Redemption towers above my list of great movies because it underlines the limitations of impressions and underscores the stupendous effect of hope.
This 1994 Frank Darabont film made me unlearn things and destroyed some stereotypes in my mind. For one, until I watched the movie, I thought Stephen King could only write horror stories. It turned out he could pen a prison drama. For another, I used to judge the merits of a movie according to its expensive setups and explosive scenes. With Shawshank, I began to appreciate that a dragging, realistic movie that provides lessons on friendship, persistence, survival, and hope can be outstanding.
Instantly, the movie became a favorite of mine. It made me realize that, indeed, hasty judgment will not do me any good and I would do well to be patient to understand fundamental truths about life. It taught me that stereotyping can be dangerous for it limits my perception of people and life — which leads to the narrowing of my perception of myself.
The film broke away from the oft-quoted statement on the capability of truth to set one free. In the movie, hope set Andy free. Truth did not. He hoped during his 19 years as inmate that his banking career and ingenuity would lead him to redemption. Serving double life, he knew very well he never stood a chance at being freed legally. He had to do it illegally.
The movie is a good reminder when I lose hope. When I am down, it is enough to remember that many people are in far worse situations than me. That they still persist to prevail over circumstances makes me ashamed of myself.
The movie galvanized me to search for a job again. Weeks after watching the movie, I landed a job as college instructor — which has been my occupation since. The tagline of the film holds true: “Fear can hold you prisoner, hope can set you free.” Thankfully, the movie told me about the light beyond the tunnel. As Andy says in his letter to Red, “Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.” I couldn’t agree more.
The author finished AB Philosophy at Christ the King Mission Seminary (Quezon City) and MA Education Major in English Literature at Divine Word College of Calapan (Calapan City, Oriental Mindoro).
Since 2005, he has been associate professor at the Colegio de San Juan de Letran (Intramuros, Manila). He handles English and Literature subjects.