Faith on Film: The Bucket List

Most would probably assume The Bucket List fits in the Faith on Film Festival because it’s got one of those Bible-thumpin’, televangelist-themed confronting your own mortality messages, where you could have the following conversation after watching it with someone you know:

“Jack Nicholson’s looking old.”
“He is old.”
“This wasn’t his best role.”
“Yeah, I liked him better as the Joker.”
“Heath Ledger was a better Joker though.”
“He was. But Jack’s a better actor overall. He was great as that Marvin guy in As Good As It Gets.”
“There were a lot of good people in that movie.”
“Yeah—Helen Hunt, Cuba Gooding Jr., Greg Kinnear. Even Skeet Ulrich.”
“It’s freaky how much he looks like Johnny Depp. Too bad Skeet can’t act as well as him.”
“Yes, it’s a shame. But Johnny Depp can’t act as well as Jack Nicholson either.”
“I don’t know, he’s a really talented actor.”
“Well let’s compare their bodies of work.”
“As long as we’re not comparing bodies—that would give me the willies. Let’s have at it.”
“Should we start with Depp’s role in 21 Jump Street or Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare.”
“OK, you win.”
“Speaking of Freddy’s dead, and given that we just saw a movie on making a list of stuff to do before you kick the bucket, and you mentioned Heath Ledger who left this earth way too soon, have you considered what might happen to you after you die?”
“I’ll be gone for good? Like Cuba Gooding Jr.’s career?
“Um, right… but where will you go?”
“Hopefully not to a place where I’ll be forced to watch Daddy Day Care or The Land Before Time XIII again and again for eternity. Because that would be hell.”

But I’m not going down that road here. Instead I’m focusing on what Morgan Freeman says: “Either get busy living or get busy dying.” Oh wait, wrong movie—that one involved digging tunnels and a self-righteous prison warden, though it certainly had its major share of faith-based elements too (maybe we’ll tackle that one eventually).

For those who haven’t seen The Bucket List, Jack and Morgan are two cancer-ward roommates who make a list of things to do before kicking the bucket. They were things like go sky-diving, travel the world, and for some strange reason, drive some old hot rods really fast on a race track, and then crash them (I’m thinking that would dislodge a catheter, but that part of the plot remained unexplored). What was so relevant here was that doing everything on their list wasn’t what brought them the fulfillment and closure they were seeking in life. It was the relationship stuff. For Morgan, it was re-building his marriage. For Jack, it was re-connecting with his long-estranged daughter.

With faith, like in real-life, it’s not a matter of “do.” It’s a matter of “is.” “To-be’s” are much more important than “to-do’s.” I’m a firm believer in the concept that to be connected with God, one must experience Him relationally. Checking things off a list to draw closer to Him just doesn’t do it. It’s rote. Sure, you can do things God-related that can reflect or express a relationship with Him: Jesus healed the sick, people give money, guys walk old ladies across the street, and missionaries travel overseas. But experiencing an act is very different from experiencing the “person” of God. You can do an act of service, read the bible, or say a prayer, but all of that has to be about Him rather than you, the action, or what you get out of it. It’s all about the source of your focus.

There’s a poignant scene where Morgan Freeman is in Hong Kong, and Jack sets up the opportunity for him to spend a night with the woman of Freeman’s dreams—one who is beautiful, intelligent and full of adventurous experiences, such as scaling Everest, the pinnacle feat of his Bucket List. It’s at that very moment that he realizes being with his wife is what brings him the most contentment. He abruptly stops his preoccupation with his list, the “to-do’s” that had wedged him even further away from her than he already had been, and he runs right back into her loving arms—the very place that provided exactly what he was seeking: peace and contentment. He stops “doing.” He “is” with her. He is hers.

It’s a tear-jerker (though I didn’t shed any—no really, I’m serious), but it also has its funny moments too, particularly when Sean Hayes is in a scene. Overall, though, it’s a great representation of faith on film. And it has a great theme song.