Movie review -- Hotel Rwanda

It seems like whenever I set out to do a "review," it just ends up being some random thoughts being put together the best they can. This one probably isn't any different.

I could probably tell you what the story is about, but you can read that elsewhere. I could tell you how impeccable Don Cheadle's acting was, but I wouldn't be the first. (I haven't figured out, though, whether I was partial to the guy prior to watching Hotel Rwanda, because of his portrayal of Dr. Paul Nathan in E.R. You can probably still catch him guest-starring in the next couple of episodes on Channel 5.)

I could also tell you how your heart will break, how it will shame you, how you will want to cry -- to reach out and hug some of them, but in a way so gentle because you're afraid of hurting them. But I suspect you will have to find that out for yourself.

I always find myself picking apart movies and books that are "based on a true story." Part of me questions people's abilities (and motives) to reproduce the "truth," and the other part of me is embarrassed for feeling this way -- for doubting. This time, I know, at least, that there is no way that we could ever overstate what went on in Rwanda.

Paul (Cheadle): "I am glad that you have shot this footage, and that the world will see it. It is the only way we have a chance -- that people might intervene."

Jack (journalist, played by Joaquin Phoenix) (unable to look Paul in the eye): "Yeah, and if no one intervenes, it's still a good thing to show."

Paul (bewildered): "How can they not intervene when they witness such atrocities?"

Jack (gently, but with brutal honesty): "I think... if people see this footage, they'll say 'Oh my God, that's horrible.' And they'll go on eating their dinners."

And I thought about it on my way home. It was like one of those cheesy scenes from a movie, where a murderer contemplates the evil, of what he'd done, for the first time: I raised both hands, face up, and stared at them, and wondered, just for a moment, how much blood was on my hands. You see, I remember watching the news, and seeing the images; I don't remember going back to my dinner, but I'm sure I must have -- I had no reason not to.