‘Wild’ Film Review

A inspirational montage of hallucinations, beauty and heart. Wild captures the struggle of addiction, grief and loneliness and still manages to uplift, reminding you that no matter what happens, you have to keep moving forward, one foot at a time.

Based on Cheryl Strayed’s best selling memoir Wild: A Journey From Lost To Found, Wild is a great comeback for talented actress Reese Witherspoon. Far away from the blonde bombshell of Legally Blonde, Witherspoon shows her vulnerable side and shows the world that she is anything but a one trick pony.

The film deals with sex, drugs, addiction, grief and learning from past mistakes but the dark themes are juxtaposed with inspiring moments of faith, freedom and enlightenment. Cheryl Strayed is a flawed character but that only makes her more relatable.

When the film begins, we learn about Cheryl and how her mother’s premature death has sent her into a downward spiral of self-destruction. Cheryl is determined to find herself again so she decides to hike the Pacific Crest Trail, alone with her thoughts, she works through everything she was previously trying to forget.

The film incorporates Cheryl’s backstory by using hallucinatory memories, poetry and songs. The narrative is honest, the acting is superb and the message is crystal clear. Wild is a terrific film that brings to life the real story of one woman’s journey that helped her find herself again.

Rating – 5/5

Foreign Words

Thank you in different languages

My eyes are derelict.
Infant and fresh.

Absorbing foreign words, foreign faces.

My mother tongue,
tangled,
twisted,
amongst vowels
of confusion.

Their faces shine with
welcoming eyes.
A barrier present,
cold and strange.

Muttering, handshakes,
kisses – swapped and selected.
Twist of culture, language and value.
Holland.

60 minutes by plane.
60 differences from home.

Far away
from little
home comforts.

Of familiarity, warmth and English idioms.

My mind is washed
with the dizziness
of change.

Landing home, a relief.

(First Draft Of Foreign Words For My Poetry Portfolio)

Forgive

hands

Turning the corner alone, you left behind.
A daughter whose words were wise and kind.

Ripping apart all that is known.
Now all that is left is skin and bone.

The heart will heal, but respect is lost.
Change can have an unforgivable cost.

Desires of the future will never be the same.
The flickering light dims on the family flame.

The tie was love, but now just blood.
I would turn back the clock if I could.

On these separate islands that we now live.
We learn to accept and learn to forgive.

No amount of glue will fix the damage done.
One decision made. No one has won.

Living with guilt – worry – fear.
One day this earth won’t have you here.

Imperfect in your selfish way.
I choose in my life for you to stay.

Ending all this pain and strife.
For you were the one to give me life.

Heavy words lift off my chest.
I still have my mother and for that I am blessed.

Learning To Move On

graveyardsnow

The frosty air is icy cold against my skin; it must be time for winter once again. I walk down a familiar street. I have my scarf wrapped around my neck and earmuffs protecting my ears from the howling wind. I try and look ahead but the pressure of the wind is gushing against my face. The air smells fresh, I can smell damp. It must have rained earlier that day, I thought. I can still taste the hot chocolate I had moments before and I still feel its warmth. The wind intertwines with the branches of the nearby trees.

I’ve been walking for a while now and the air appears to be getting colder. I look up at the pale white sky, no patches of blue in sight. A few minutes later I feel a snowflake land on my cheek, the snow begins to fall softly at first. I don’t have far to go now before I reach the place I have been longing to visit. I couldn’t face this day a year ago, still battled with grief I refused to go there.

Minutes later the snow emerged from the sky. The white flakes fall like shooting stars. I was almost there. I walked past an old Victorian styled house; I could smell a burning coal fire. I didn’t like this smell. It reminded me of a burning bonfire on a crisp November’s night not so long ago. The smoke rose out of the chimney and it filled my lungs with the dirty soot, I coughed violently. I only had a few more yards to go and I could feel the pit of my stomach twisting into knots of anticipation. I stood at the iron gates. I had come all of this way, I had to do it now. I tumbled across the uneven ground and there it was.

My mother’s grave stone. I could taste sick in my mouth, it hadn’t occurred to me it would be this hard. My throat was dry. I looked at the ancient stone walls surrounding the church. They reminded me of another place. I knelt down, holding back the tears. The pain of guilt overwhelmed me. My heart sank like a bottomless pit as I began to relive the memories of my mother and me. I miss her. I want to be with her right now. I am finally here to say goodbye, finally facing the demons of the past year. I choked back the tears. “Hello mum” I croaked.

Stay Strong

womancrying

Masking the desolation
you face every day,
Your happiness eclipsed with
the ease of just a smile.

Strong enough to hold back
your silver tears,
Unfair, the path that
leads you is painted with
black most days.

Light will shine for you
one day, I promise you
this, stay strong. Be faithful.
Stay beautiful, mother.