Tú eres mi fuerza

Every so often, a movie comes along that leaves you *feeling.* You might not even know, exactly, what it is you're feeling; may not be able to articulate it, but that you are feeling it is undeniable. It was once said that "To be called 'great' deservingly, a work must bring its reader to a recognition of some profound truth of the human condition of which they were previously, perhaps, only dimly aware." Surely, the same can be said about movies, and this movie in particular. It's not that it's the perfect movie, or even the most original, but it conveys some kind of truth, some realism that strikes a cord and the resonance continues long after the final credits have rolled.

Hollywood has a tendency toward incredibly two-dimensional characters: they are either good or bad, there is no grey. One of the most refreshing things about "Falling Sky" was the absolute humanness of all its characters. No one character was 100% good, nor were any 100% bad; they were flawed, each trying to do the best they could in bad situations -- sometimes making things better, sometimes making them worse, but always trying to make them *something.*

It can't be said that "Falling Sky" was without flaws, but it can be said that, despite its flaws, it managed to rise above and convey something that all too often goes unsaid. Life isn't about happy endings or triumph over tragedy; it's not about making the right choices or even about making the wrong ones. Life is about living, and it's about dying; it about going on, in whatever way it is that you must do it, because that's all that can be done.