Thank God I Ain't What I Almost Was

It's been over two years since Michael DeNobile’s last movie reflection. He apologizes for being away so long. This isn't an excuse but an explanation: life happened and then the pandemic (which you would have thought would have given him more time but it actually didn't). However, he is back and is going to do a COVID series of many of the things he binged while in quarantine. But let's come back with a bang...

A REFLECTION OF (WHAT WILL HOPEFULLY BE SEASON 1 OF) DISNEY+'S BIG SHOT

Michael DeNobile provides a reflection of season one of Disney’s new series, Big Shot.

Sacrifice. If there's anything the last year has taught us, it's what we have and are willing to sacrifice. It has also put life into perspective.

Survival. Both literally and metaphorically, the last year has also taught us about survival, as human beings, as families, as communities, as a society.

Strength. It's more than just a Kelly Clarkson lyric, what doesn't kill you truly does make you stronger. And if there's anything the last year has taught us is that come what may, we are stronger, together.

At the start of the series, it seemed to be a bit of a metaphor for John Stamos's career: ever since Full House, nothing memorable hasn't been able to stick for him, as if he's been living in Hollywood exile for twenty-six years. Sure, he's had some roles and has been working, but what role of his has been truly engaging and memorable since Uncle Jesse? Have mercy!

But it is when shows like Big Shot become an experience bigger than themselves, where you see yourself in them that they take on a life of their own. Who hasn't thrown a chair onto the court of Life (literally or metaphorically), whether intentionally or by accident, and ended up in what you thought was a backwater train stop on your way to where you're meant to be? If there is one thing we forget to teach young people today is that life isn't only unfair but how we react to the injustices of life--what happens next? What's the comeback story? As Rachel Platten put it, how do you recapture your "fight song / take back [your] life song / prove [you're] all right song"? Even when "nobody else believes," how do you show you "still got a lot of fight left" in you? How do you find meaning after experiencing trauma, whether that trauma was caused unjustly or by the choices you made?

Austrian neurologist, psychiatrist, philosopher, author, and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl would say, "Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way." And while Frankl is 100% correct, there's only one thing: in orchestrating our comeback story, oftentimes we want it on our terms, sometimes within our own ignorance and to our own detriment. We want to build a pragmatic legacy built on our own expectations, how we saw ourselves before we threw that chair onto the court of life. "This is the way things are supposed to be," we tell ourselves. "I know what is best for me."

And oftentimes we do know what's best for ourselves. Stephen Crane put it best when he wrote: "A man said to the universe: / 'Sir, I exist!' / 'However,' replied the universe, / 'The fact has not created in me / A sense of obligation.'" We as humans go to the two extremes, we either want a pragmatic legacy that we want on our own terms or we want God, the universe, Fate--whatever you wish to call it--to save us from ourselves. Frankl wisely reminds us, "When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves."

In the 1996 version of The Crucible, John Proctor (Daniel Day-Lewis) forces himself to sign a confession that he saw the devil and bound himself to the devil's service though he knows it is untrue, and in a moment of regret, refuses to hand over the signed confession for public viewing. When further questioned why he can't bring himself to hand over his public confession, he cries out, "Because it is my name! Because I cannot have another in my life! Because I lie and sign myself to lies! Because I am not worth the dust on the feet of them that hang! I have given you my soul, leave me my name!" In our darkest moments, we are tempted to allow others to write our story, to believe their lies, to allow them and ourselves to define who we are by that chair, whether throwing it was intentional or by unintended consequence, to resign ourselves to real or perceived prisons out of a false fear that we truly deserve damnation, whether by God, the universe, or society itself.

Sacrifice. Survival. Strength. Love. We think we are sacrificing when we are pursuing our pragmatic legacies, how we define our life on our terms. And then a wrench is thrown into the clockwork, and we are forced to reevaluate our situations and try to come back into life's good graces. True sacrifice is when we empower others to survive--true sacrifice is built on love of others, not ourselves. True legacies are built on when we sacrifice for others, when we put off pragmatic wins for our own needs and build up others.

Michael DeNobile recognizes that we may become shadows of ourselves in the midst of trauma, but we recapture our strength and survive when we inspire others to guide them out of the darkness of their own traumas and lead them back to the light of life. That's the sacrifice we make as members of a family or community, as parents, as educators, as coaches, as mentors, as first responders, as religious instructors, as friends, as significant others. But let's not get caught up in the day-to-day trifles--the legacy we build is more than just providing and establishing discipline for the next generation. In the words of Coach Korn, "it's a lifetime commitment" to sacrifice, where "the win," which "is worth any sacrifice, is raising a child who is caring enough, smart enough, who is compassionate enough, and who is loving enough to be a better echo of you."

Michael DeNobile would like to dedicate this reflection to all those who sacrifice their own needs, their own desires, for the good of every child in their life. And to his students, for whom every sacrifice he made throughout his life to see them become better echoes of himself--the risk was worth the reward. Seeing the sacrifices many of them have made in their personal lives have helped inspire and guide him through the dark times in his own life. The echoes ring on.