Seven Pounds of Frustration

If you have not seen the new Seven Pounds movie with Will Smith, and have any desire or hope to one day see it, then you should probably stop reading and leave this blog for a later date.

Seriously, I’m about to spoil the whole movie for you if you keep going…

Your choice.

I went to see this last night by myself. (I know- “A movie by yourself? That’s so sad!” But not for me. I love going to movies alone. After all, when I go with someone else, it isn’t like we’re spending quality time together. We sit side by side, facing forward, and hopefully don’t speak for 2 hours.) Continuing… I went to see Seven Pounds even though I knew it had received some of the worst reviews of all time next to the Waterworld debacle. But poor reviews tend to intrigue me. I just want to see for myself how bad it is. Kind of like tasting something that your friend has just declared disgusting. I should have stayed away.

In all honesty, the movie isn’t that bad. The acting is fine. The cinematography is average. There isn’t some unresolvable plot confusion like in The Lake House. My problem lies with the content. So here is the plot in a nutshell, aka the spoiler: Will Smith’s character has been in a car crash where he is the lone survivor. In order to deal with his remorse and depression, he decides to commit suicide. But before he takes his life he anonymously goes about finding “good” people who need an organ transplant so that when he kills himself he can be their donor.

I was fine while I was watching it. But as soon as it was over, I was furious. I’ve never felt such strong feelings about the wrongness of a movie. I hate that this movie attempted to somehow glorify suicide. I hate that it tried to make audiences feel like Will Smith’s character was such a nice, good guy for donating his organs to these deserving people. I know people who decided to end their lives and there’s nothing glorious or selfless about it. I hate the idea that not only did this character believe it was his right to choose when he lives and dies, but the idea that he would also determine whether seven other people live or die is appalling to me. Deciding that you know better than God when your time is up is one big issue, but feeling as though you can also judge the worthiness of someone else’s life is unbelievable.

I know the movie is fictional. I know it’s just a movie. I know I need to let this go. But I hate that this movie could change the way in which some people think about suicide. That it could make them think that as long as you’re generous on the way out, then killing yourself is an acceptable, even noble option.

Now that you know how I feel, aren’t you glad I went to the movie alone?


One Comment to “Seven Pounds of Frustration”

  1. Hi Jeannie

    Thankfully I had no intention of seeing this movie, but now I definitely won’t. Unfortunately, I had to process two donors this weekend; young people who had commited suicide. I hope they didn’t think they were doing something good for other people. 😦


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