In Praise of Kindness

Spoiler alert for the films and tv shows mentioned.

Last week I finally got around to viewing the film that won the Oscar for best picture (and several other Oscars to boot). Watching Everything Everywhere All at Once is not easy. The film’s use of English subtitles for the parts in spoken Chinese is the least of the issues. To begin with, there are the many jumps from one dimension to the next. Along with the jumps come different, multi-dimensional versions of the same people, like the three versions of Waymond (played by now-Oscar-winning actor Ke Huy Quan). In one version, he seems meek and mild (though, importantly, kind). In another, he pops in and out of the dimension most familiar to us with a flip of his glasses, like a furtive secret agent encouraging the main character (his wife, Evelyn, played by now-Oscar-winning actress Michelle Yeoh) to fight the villain (a version of their daughter, Joy) in order to save the multiverse. And then there’s the craziness (Hot dogs for fingers? A giant “everything” bagel?) and the graphic violence. The absurdist plot is difficult to understand and just as hard to follow, yet somehow it all seems to come together in the end.

Perhaps the hardest thing for my small mind was the seeming logical inconsistency in the film’s two main themes – nothing matters, and the importance of kindness. Maybe I’m missing something (and I will look for it on a second viewing), but if nothing matters, why should we care about kindness? And if kindness does matter, doesn’t that disprove the “nothing matters” meme? It’s hard to walk away from the film without concluding that some things really do matter, like kindness, family, love, and acceptance. Maybe the film is actually a rejection of the “nothing matters” trope, but I’ll have to watch it again to have any hope of solving that puzzle.

I’ve spent some time reading other writers’ reactions to the film, and all of them quoted the same lines. Those lines came in a quiet moment, in a dimension where Evelyn and Waymond had never married. In that timeline, she is a glamorous movie star and he is a suave, well-dressed bachelor. He tells her: “You think because I’m kind that it means I’m naïve, and maybe I am. It’s strategic and necessary. This is how I fight.” In the end, his approach proves wise, as it is the power of kindness that saves everyone, everywhere, all at once.

The theme of kindness seems to run rampant in Hollywood. Just to cite a few of my favorite examples, there’s the kindness of Jimmy Stewart’s character, George Bailey, in It’s a Wonderful Life; of Paul Newman’s character, Sully, in the Nobody’s Fool that was based on the Richard Russo novel (not to be confused with a later film of the same name); and more recently, of Mariana Trevino’s character, Marisol, in A Man Called Otto.

In each case, kindness was both salvific and transformative. George Bailey was a kind man, and being confronted with the positive effects of his own kind deeds saved him from what might have been a fatal despair. Sully was an apparently lost and inconsequential soul tormented by the paternal abuse he suffered as a young boy, yet his quiet, almost clandestine kindness to those who traveled in his orbit allowed them to overcome their fears and insecurities.

Marisol is different from George and Sully. She never doubts herself or the power of the kindness she has to offer. But her unrelenting kindness is the key that unlocks the recently-widowed, highly irascible Otto (played brilliantly by Tom Hanks) from his angry, suicidal self, and inspires him to commit his own kind acts towards those whom he increasingly realizes need his help.

Film isn’t the only medium touting this virtue. Have you ever wondered why Apple TV’s Ted Lasso is the great success that it is? I think it’s because he is the epitome of kindness, through which he too transforms lives, even (and especially) the lives of those who unkind to him.

The new show, Shrinking, starring Jason Segel, also features kindness’s irresistible force. There, kindness is packaged in combinations of friendship and therapy, but it too saves the characters it touches, including the military veteran Sean who suffers from anger-management issues; the unhappily aging senior therapist, Paul (ably played by veteran film star Harrison Ford), who, without the help of others, seems powerless to reconcile with his estranged daughter; and Jimmy (Segel’s character), who is struggling to emerge from the grief at the loss of his own wife. (If you’ve seen the most recent episode of “Shrinking,” though, you are left to worry that one of Jimmy’s patients may have missed the point and taken his unconventional advice to a misguided extreme).  

Why do filmgoers and tv watchers respond so positively to shows about kindness? I suppose it’s because kindness is a quality we admire, and to which we aspire. Who wouldn’t like to be on the receiving end of a kind word or gesture? And aren’t many of us just as eager to extend kindness to others? Doesn’t receiving and giving kindness, after all, make us feel good? I’m sure the issue is more complicated than all of that, but I think that’s the essence of it.

Thankfully, all of the shows I’ve now mentioned not only promote kindness, but they also are beautifully crafted. They feature compelling narratives, outstanding performances, and finely-tuned production qualities. Far from being morality plays, they are entertaining comedies worth watching at many levels (though some are appropriate for mature audiences only). Sure, the language and sexual escapades of some of the characters in Ted Lasso and Shrinking may offend some, and viewers concerned about such matters are forewarned. But shouldn’t we encourage the production and distribution of well-crafted works of art that also remind us that, in this time of seemingly endless, escalating conflict and division, kindness still matters?

I worry that the intolerance shown by some political leaders for certain types of programming might one day limit access to such exemplary works. After all, one of the subplots in Everything Everywhere is the gay relationship between the Wang’s daughter, Joy, and her lover, Becky, and the family’s acceptance of that relationship. One of the characters in A Man Called Otto is a young trans man who becomes the object of Otto’s generosity and a key contributor to Otto’s eventual happiness. And Shrinking includes not only a gay couple but also a scene from their joyful wedding. Will these shows, or other shows and books like them, get past the wall of censorship that states like Florida and Texas are busily erecting? If not, audiences, including teen audiences, will be deprived of the examples of kindness at the heart of their stories. And if they are so deprived, that’s just one more strike against the spreading of kindness throughout our society. Blocking out kindness hardly seems like something our country needs right now.

If kindness matters (and I think it does), it matters everywhere. Nowhere is it more important that in our political lives. I wish that when we elect public officials, we wouldn’t just ask which party they belong to or what issues they support. I wish we also would ask whether they are kind. Jimmy Carter was kind, and he put his kindness into action during the entirety of his post-Presidential life. Once rejected as supposedly weak and ineffectual, he is now revered for the kind and selfless soul that he has shown himself to be.

There seems to be a shortage of kindness in Washington today, and a surplus of unkind people pursuing, and sometimes obtaining, power. I see those unfortunate qualities mostly in certain members of one particular party, but I’m sure there must be unkind people in every party and organization focused on advancing its own status and agenda. Maybe the conflict we often see between political culture and Hollywood isn’t so much a conflict between different moral codes but rather between those who prioritize power and those more concerned with kindness.

Sadly, some of the very politicians who say they promote a Christian agenda seem to be the least kind. But both the Hebrew and Christian scriptures revere the quality of kindness. A famous verse from the Jewish prophet Micah reads (in some translations): “He has told you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” Kindness was central to Jesus’ preaching as well, as evidenced, for example, in the Sermon on the Mount, and in the parable of the Good Samaritan. At bottom, it’s this simple: No one professing to be Christian should also be unkind, and anyone observing their unkind words or deeds cannot be faulted for questioning the sincerity of their professed beliefs.

What a different and better world this would be if more people, and especially those in positions of power, adopted kindness as a core principle. Maybe it’s time we tried to at least start moving our leaders and our society more in that direction.

I know that would make Ted Lasso proud.