Some Cardiac Trauma

One of the many strengths of art, film particularly, is resonating with people in different ways. This is especially true as we enter new stages in our lives, as something that might’ve been light fun at one point can suddenly be more powerful after a life-changing event. I’m no different there. And in light of a video Chris Stuckmann recently made, I’m writing about movies that’ve hit me personally ever since my dad’s heart attack. Be prepared for mild spoilers:

My Neighbor Totoro’s a great movie. It’s not my favourite from Hayao Miyazaki, it doesn’t even speak to me like Kiki’s Delivery Service or Whisper of the Heart as far as Studio Ghibli’s pantheon goes, but what it lacks in narrative it compensates for thematically. In particular, it weaves the innocence of youth with the fragility of life, particularly with Satsuki and Mei’s mother being terminally-ill. But while that remains in the background the majority of the film, it’s in the last 25 minutes where it starts getting heavy. In particular, it has our heroines believe their mother might die.

I remember being caught off-guard when I first saw this in 2010. But it’s only in recent years that it fully sank in. The Kusakabe matriarch’s situation was different from my dad’s, but the underlying feeling was identical: like Satsuki, I felt that this might be the end. And like Mei, I was hoping deep-down that I could fix it. I was wrong on both accounts.

It's worth noting that the dilemma kicks into gear because Mei thinks the ear of corn she has will make her mom better. It’s an accurate, 4 year-old assumption to make, one I’d expect from someone like her. Even outside of Satsuki’s emotional breakdown, which is heartbreaking, that food is the catalyst for Mei’s disappearance reminds me of how I was unable to eat from my fridge when my dad was sick. I actually lost weight during those 6 weeks! And everything ended up resolving itself in the movie, much like reality, but that was a close one!

When I went into Bumblebee, I was unsure what to expect. The movie, unlike the Michael Bay entries, was good, but I didn’t anticipate being hit with an emotional gut-punch. The movie’s mostly cutesy ala The Iron Giant, but by the third-act it becomes serious. In particular, Charlie helplessly watching Bumblebee be blasted by Dropkick and having to keep her mouth shut really hit the hardest. Especially since we never saw Charlie’s dad die, and we’re left to assume that Bumblebee’s death was comparable.

I wasn’t actually present to witness my dad’s heart attack. And unlike Charlie, it wasn’t until a few days later, when I saw my dad covered in wires and plugs, that the full-extent of the situation kicked in. I’d even prepared a whole speech, only for my mind to go blank in that moment. But it was painful nonetheless. I might not have had access to the equipment Charlie used on Bumblebee, but, in a weird way, it wasn’t unlike the AED used by the paramedics to restart my dad’s heart. Even now I can’t think about it without gritting my teeth.

Many of you haven’t heard of A Letter to Momo. It follows 12 year-old Momo and her mom as they head to the countryside in Japan to treat her mother’s asthma. Once there, Momo encounters three yōkai who were sent to look out for her and her mom. Unfortunately, they’re are terrible at their job, getting Momo into heaps of trouble constantly. But it’s the film’s climax where everything comes together emotionally.

Momo’s mother’s asthma comes back in full-force during a torrential storm. Since the nearest hospital that has medication can’t be accessed, Momo panics; after all, her last conversation with her mom, like her dad, involved her getting mad and saying something hurtful. And since her dad’s boat capsized, Momo’s worried that tragedy will strike twice. It’s an intense situation for any child, whether they be 12 like Momo or, at the time, 24 like me.

But I think Momo’s final conversation with her dad really hits home. Many people don’t know that the night before my dad’s heart attack, the two of us got into an argument and went to bed unhappy. So when I received the news of my dad’s heart attack, a part of me felt guilty. Was God punishing me? I wasn’t sure.

I recently had the privilege of seeing Blue Beetle. I enjoyed it a lot, even considering it to be underrated. However, I didn’t expect a movie that bizarre to hit me with a gut-punch. Yet it did, and it all focused around the protagonist’s dad. I should’ve picked up the hints…

The moment that hurt was when Jaime’s family’s confronted by soldiers and held at gunpoint. Jaime fights most of them off, but his sister and father are knocked over by a soldier’s blast. His father then immediately goes into cardiac arrest. This brief moment leaves Jaime vulnerable enough to be captured, forcing him to watch in horror while being hauled away. His dad’s heart flatlines in the ambulance.

Of all the scenes I’ve mentioned thus far, this one’s the most intense. Not only do we witness the heart attack, we also see him die. And like Jaime, we’re not given a chance to mourn his death. Like I said earlier, I didn’t get to process what’d happened to my dad until days after his cardiac episode. This was because it happened not only in the afternoon, but also leading up to the holiday of Shavuot. My family had to shuffle our plans, changing them three times in two hours. Like Jaime in Blue Beetle, I felt helpless. Except that unlike Jaime, my dad’s situation eventually had a happy ending.

I’ll end off with Summer Wars. Summer Wars is my least-favourite of Mamoru Hosoda’s films, though I won’t rehash why. Instead, I’d like to discuss what happens halfway. Kenji’s woken up in the middle of the night to people running to the Jinnouchi matriarch’s bedroom. Granny had had a heart attack in her sleep, and her family’s trying, in vain, to revive her. The family doctor then explains that Granny had angina, and that her heart monitor hadn’t responded because OZ had been hacked, so it’s hard not to feel as helpless as everyone else.

It's especially tough, looking back, because I didn’t know what angina was until I took a first aid course last Spring. Now that I understand its seriousness, I can correlate it to my dad, who I’m positive had been suffering from it a few days prior to his heart attack. He thought it was bad back pain initially, but it couldn’t have been an accident. It was his early warning sign, and I now can’t watch Summer Wars without getting uneasy over Granny talking with Natsuki about “Summer heat” early on. If only I’d known…

And there you go: moments in movies that resonate with me after my dad’s heart attack. I guess it can’t be helped, right?