Unbending Good

Michael Winterbottom’s A Mighty Heart traces the true story of Mariane Pearl (Angelina Jolie) in the wake of her husband’s kidnap in 2002. Adapted from her memoir of the same title, we join Mariane’s reflections on the unfolding crisis that swallowed her world and ultimately left her a pregnant widow. Bracingly raw at times as it moves toward its grim conclusion, I found myself locked into the drama. Stripped of any Hollywood gloss, Jolie and the cast convince well and the result is a disturbing and provocative piece.

Assigned to Pakistan following 9/11, the Pearls were both heavily involved in exploring links to the resurgence of fundamentalist terrorism. Daniel Pearl (Dan Futterman), a correspondent for the Wall Street Journal, was on the trail of the ‘shoe bomber’ Richard Reid. On the evening on 23 January 2002, a day before they intended to leave for the States, Daniel disappeared without warning, and this is where the film begins.

Until that point the Pearls had lived happily in a house owned by a friend and colleague named Asra (Archie Panjabi). It was a life of adventure and affectionate love, with the prospect of a new baby’s arrival and a return home. Daniel was a well-respected journalist, known for his integrity and cultural sensitivity. He was a cautious individual, befriending and drawing advice from all sides. Nevertheless none of his contacts can prepare him for the trap that awaited him. He was seized without warning.

Following his disappearance, Asra’s house quickly becomes the headquarters for a monumental effort to rescue Daniel from his unknown captors. Mariane’s personal involvement with the investigation is the first sign of her strength of character. She builds a strong relationship of trust with the captain in charge of the investigation (Irrfan Khan), whom she regards as a man of faith. Together they attempt to piece together the events surrounding the kidnap.

Weeks of excruciating waiting, peppered with false leads and dead ends ensue. Several times a body is found, but each time it proves not to be Daniel. We observe Mariane drawing strength from the memories of the good times with her husband. Through the most piercing of television interviews she carries herself with remarkable dignity and poise. The film is most true to life in this respect as interview footage is included verbatim from tapes recorded in 2002.

Mariane’s strength and hope are focused on the new life within her. Daniel had named the baby ‘Adam’ and in communion with Adam, Mariane finds a measure of peace amid the chaos. At night she lays curled up with her mobile phone sending text messages to her husband. What shines through is a woman larger than the crisis that has engulfed her, still hopeful, still determined to see him again.

Those aspirations are partially met when the kidnappers make contact and Mariane learns that her husband was the target of an elaborate plot to seize a well-known westerner. That Pearl is Jewish only adds to his trophy value. Nevertheless, Mariane finds hope in pictures of her husband. ‘He has a gun to his head and he’s smiling. He’s telling us he’s okay,’ she says. She sees in him an unconquered spirit, a defiance even in under the threat of his life. The pictures, intended to cause pain, become another source of strength for Mariane as she struggles with her pregnancy.

Events reach their awful conclusion as the authorities receive a video tape showing the beheading of Daniel. Overcome with grief, Mariane screams that she will never watch it herself. However, summoning her courage, and determined that the opportunity to do some good should not be lost, she sits for another interview in which she places her loss in context: ‘On the same day that my husband died, at least ten Pakistanis also died from terrorist related activities. So what’s the difference?’ She went on say that she had come to peace with what happened, recognizing that poverty was driving the recruitment of terrorists as much as religion.

Gathering all those that sought to help Daniel for one final meal, Mariane graciously thanks them, and reminds them that neither they nor her husband failed because none of them lost faith even to the end.

Returning to the States, Mariane takes the decision to view the execution tape. Is it the journalist in her that wants to know the awful truth? Or is it a wife wanting to be there at the very end of her husband’s life? In the event, the scene immediately shifts to the birth of Adam – the beginning of this new life is the end of the story.

The film works well on a number of levels. Firstly, there is a sense of gratitude for the life of Daniel Pearl. Mariane later spoke about wanting to tell the world about the man she loved: ‘I didn’t want his life to be hijacked by his death.’[1] This explains the frequent flashbacks to the good times in which Mariane finds solace. In one sense, the whole film is a commitment to memory for the benefit of Adam as Mariane states at the conclusion: ‘This film is for our son, so that he knows that his father was an ordinary man, an ordinary hero.’

In this respect we have a tribute to the Daniel Pearl that the world didn’t see at the time: the devoted husband, the seeker after truth, the man of conviction and huge courage in captivity. The gathered circle of friends dedicating their lives to his rescue testifies to a man who had a unique ability to connect to others. Moreover, it is made clear that he was someone who believed a better world was possible. Of course, it is more than likely that Daniel’s faults have been glossed over here, but Mariane’s portrayal of an ‘ordinary hero’ – heroic for what he stood for rather than what he did – is a healthy corrective to our notion of the all-action hero.

On a second level, we have the story of a remarkable woman’s passage through an excruciating time of life. Her vast inner resources of courage, hope and perspective are humbling to say the least. It’s not that Mariane does anything; it’s how she deals with what she’s given; it’s what she becomes. This is a profoundly spiritual dimension.

Mariane believes in a triumph of what Daniel stood for, in an interview with BBC Radio 4 she went as far to say, ‘You can cut someone’s body into pieces, but you can’t get hold of a strong spirit.’

What was most deeply good about the man, his convictions, his beliefs, and his love could not be destroyed. One could argue that through the tragedy of his death, those attributes have become a source of inspiration around the globe. Now the Daniel Pearl Foundation exists to ‘promote cross-cultural understanding through journalism, music, and innovative communications’ (see www.danielpearl.org).

The grit and tragedy of the affair serve to underscore the result that here, in the injustice, in the loss, good overcame evil. Indeed, good became mightier the more terrible the circumstances got. Somehow, uncensored exposure to the horror, starring at the awful truth, caused something more powerful to arise.

On a third and related level there’s an inescapable political judgment that emerges. Mariane said of the film that, ‘It’s not about us – it’s about a situation in the world that I think everyone’s aware of.’[2] This appears to be a sideswipe at the ‘War on Terror’, the conflict that led, albeit indirectly, to her husband’s murder. The cause of fundamentalism and violence is stated to be ‘misery and poverty’ rather than ideology. Behind the face of terrorism are the spectres of inequality and injustice. The point seems to be that ‘bread and circus’ are all that is required to keep the peace at most times. Ideologies of violence are only sustainable if people are hungry and unemployed. Peace is the natural order and violence is the pretender.

It reminds me of something Desmond Tutu once said, the words of a wise man that had seen plenty of horrendous injustice in his native South Africa:

We have defeated awful things like Nazism, like communism, like apartheid, and we have seen some wonderful human beings . . . Mahatma Gandhi, Mother Teresa, the Dalai Lama. And . . . what that says is ultimately good prevails. It is a moral universe, despite all appearances to the contrary . . . It is that . . . there is no way that evil will ultimately triumph.’[3]

Tutu’s Christian belief is essentially optimistic. This view, that good rather than evil is the stronger and ultimately triumphant force in life, is deeply embedded into Christian thought. People are capable of great wrong, but the most compelling and persistent truth about us is that there is an antidote those negative aspects. We are capable of living good lives after all; indeed this is the only sustainable way to live. Most people, regardless of their faith, hold to a similar belief for themselves and for their loved ones, believing that those close to us are essentially good persons. Tutu encourages us to believe it for our world.

Something about an unjust death strikes a blow against all forms of oppression and evil. The ultimate expression of this is in the death of Christ, another Jew, another believer in a better world, another one that would die an unconquered spirit. However, Christ’s death is seen as more than symbolic in the Bible. Christ’s death is a fatal blow to all powers and forces of evil:

God wiped out the charges that were against us for disobeying the Law of Moses. He took them away and nailed them to the cross. There Christ defeated all powers and forces. He let the whole world see them being led away as prisoners when he celebrated his victory. (Colossians 2:14-15 CEV)

This is why Christians celebrate Good Friday. It was a victory for good and a decisive one at that. Christians should be optimists. The battle is already won.

In a woefully cynical age, A Mighty Heart reminds us what humanity can be at its best. It reminds us of the irresistible force of good in the face of evil. Here we see real people in real tragedy that are in some way beautiful on the inside. What a change from the hollow heroism of Hollywood.

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