O BOM REBELDE (1997)

PONTUAÇÃO: MUITO BOM

★★★★★

Título Original: Good Will Hunting
Realização: Gus Van Sant

Principais Actores: Matt Damon, Robin Williams, Ben Affleck, Stellan Skarsgård, Minnie Driver, Casey Affleck, Cole Hauser, John Mighton, Rachel Majorowski, Colleen McCauley

Crítica: 

UMA MENTE BRILHANTE

Some people can never believe in themselves, 

until someone believes in them.

Nem sempre é fácil escrever sobre os filmes que nos são mais queridos. Essa é certamente a tarefa mais difícil e, sem sombra de dúvida, o caso especial deste O Bom Rebelde. A epígrafe, desta vez, não cita a frase marcante desta ou daquela personagem - dedicar-me-ei ao assunto mais abaixo, com notável paixão e honroso excesso -, antes recorda a tagline promocional do filme que, creio, sintetiza com assaz precisão aquela que é a maior mensagem da obra. Obra que, para alguns, aos quais terá escapado a profundidade dos diálogos, pouco mais é do que um filme para adolescentes, o desvio mais pobre e mainstream do autor Gus Van Sant. Gostos discutem-se, haja pluralidade. O meu apreço pelo filme distingue-se claramente do desprezo dos haters, por encontrar nele qualidades que, a meu ver, são de uma sublimidade inquestionável. Sobre todas as coisas, a história magistralmente bem contada, sobre os fascinantes meandros da psique humana.

O confronto entre o jovem genial porém marginal Will Hunting (surpreendente e carismático Matt Damon) e o assombrado e talentoso psicólogo Sean McGuire (extraordinária, a performance dramática de Robin Williams, tão vinculado aos horizontes da comédia) é uma aula de psicologia tremenda. Ambos, indívíduos marcados pelas cicatrizes da vida e dos bairros do Southie. Will resolve em segredo os teoremas mais intricados enquanto se multiplica em limpezas pelos corredores do MIT e em lutas de rua por tudo e por nada. Órfão desde que se lembra, a sua história esconde um traumatizante passado de abusos e carência de afetos, sucessivos lares de adoção, crimes vários dos quais aprendeu a auto-defender-se nos tribunais. Com vinte anos, é alguém que ataca - pela palavra ou pela força - como forma de defesa, de  fugir habilmente às inseguranças, é alguém que não se entrega a ninguém, com medo de ser abandonado e que simplesmente não consegue manter um emprego. A sua família são os poucos amigos que fez, que o protegem e os quais protege, com quem partilha desabafos e bebedeiras, mas nunca a sua quase inconsciente sede de conhecimento, fruto do seu dom. É a história, sociologica ou filosoficamente falando, de como o meio determina o indivíduo. 

Quando finalmente desvenda a identidade do matemático-mistério, o medelhado professor Gerald Lambeau (grande Stellan Skarsgård) resgata-o da prisão com duas condições: a primeira, a de estudar matemática com a sua equipa de investigação. A segunda, a de fazer acompanhamento psicológico por forma a ultrapassar a sua natureza rebelde, a que pronta e determinantemente se recusa. Passam-se cinco terapêutas, cada um mais manipulado e medíocre do que o outro, até que Gerald e o seu mais recente protegido batam à porta de Sean (antigo colega do professor, dos tempos da faculdade), que estará finalmente à altura do desafio, iniciando um longo e difícil ritual de descoberta, porém gratificante. Será também a história, portanto, de como o próprio indivíduo,  dotado de livre-arbítrio e de vontade própria, pode determinar-se a si próprio, mediante as suas escolhas, independentemente do meio. Cada sessão é, cinematograficamente, do mais elementar e eficaz possível: a câmera filma o ator, o ator sente e declama o texto, o texto é por demais brilhante.

Lembremos, pois, a inesquecível cena à beira-rio. O excerto é longo, mas permite quase cinco minutos de um dos melhores monólogos de que tenho memória, na história dos filmes:

Michelangelo? You know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations. Him and the pope. Sexual orientation. The whole works, right? I bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling.Seeing that. If I ask you about women, you'll probably give me a syllabus of your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman... and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. I ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right? 'Once more into the breach, dear friends.' But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap... and watch him gasp his last breath lookin' to you for help. If I asked you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet, but you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes. Feelin' like God put an angel on Earth just for you, who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her be there forever. Through anything.Through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleepin' sittin' up in a hospital room... for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes... that the terms 'visiting hours' don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause that only occurs when you love something more than you love yourself. I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that. If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right, "once more unto the breach dear friends." But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help. I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. And look at you... I don't see an intelligent, confident man... I see a cocky, scared shitless kid. But you're a genius, Will. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a painting of mine, and you ripped my fucking life apart. You're an orphan right? Do you think I know the first thing about how hard your life has been, how you feel, who you are, because I read Oliver Twist? Does that encapsulate you? Personally... I don't give a shit about all that, because you know what, I can't learn anything from you, I can't read in some fuckin' book. Unless you want to talk about you, who you are. Then I'm fascinated. I'm in. But you don't want to do that do you sport? You're terrified of what you might say. Your move, chief. 

Sean McGuire

E já que estou em demoradas homenagens, outra das cenas memoráveis, tão deliciosa na palavra e no acting como na encenação ou até na montagem (meticuloso e inspirado, a propósito, o trabalho de Pietro Scalia):

Will: So, when did you know, like, that she was the one for you?

Sean: October 21st, 1975.

Will: Jesus Christ. You know the fuckin' date?

Sean: Oh yeah. 'Cause it was Game 6 of the World Series. Biggest game in Red Sox history.

Will: Yeah, sure.

Sean: My friends and I had, you know, slept out on the sidewalk all night to get tickets.

Will: You got tickets?

Sean: Yep. Day of the game. I was sittin' in a bar, waitin' for the game to start, and in walks this girl. Oh, it was an amazing game, though. You know, bottom of the eighth, Carbo ties it up at 6-6. It went to twelve. Bottom of the twelfth, in stepped Carlton Fisk. Old Pudge. Steps up to the plate, you know, and he's got that weird stance.

Will: Yeah, yeah.

Sean: And BAM! He clocks it. High fly ball down the left field line! Thirty-five thousand people, on their feet, yellin' at the ball, but that's not because of Fisk. He's wavin' at the ball like a madman.

Will: Yeah, I've seen...

Sean: He's going, "Get over! Get over! Get OVER!" And then it HITS the foul pole. OH, he goes apeshit, and 35,000 fans, you know, they charge the field, you know?

Will: Yeah, and he's fuckin' bowlin' police out of the way!

Sean: Goin', "God! Get out of the way! Get 'em away!" Banging people...

Will: I can't fuckin' believe you had tickets to that fuckin' game!

Sean: Yeah!

Will: Did you rush the field?

Sean: [surpreendido com a questão] No, I didn't rush the fuckin' field; I wasn't there.

Will: What?

Sean: No - I was in a bar havin' a drink with my future wife.

Will: You missed Pudge Fisk's home run?

Sean: Oh, yeah.

Will: To have a fuckin' drink with some lady you never met?

Sean: Yeah, but you shoulda seen her; she was a stunner.

Will: I don't care if Helen of Troy walks in the room, that's Game 6!

Sean: Oh, Helen of Troy...

Will: Oh my God; and who are these fuckin' friends of yours, they let you get away with that?

Sean: Oh... they had to.

Will: W-w-w-what'd you say to them?

Sean: I just slid my ticket across the table, and I said: Sorry, guys; I gotta see about a girl.

Will: I gotta go see about a girl?

Sean: Yeah.

Will: That's what you said? And they let you get away with that?

Sean: Oh, yeah. They saw in my eyes that I meant it.

Will: You're kiddin' me.

Sean: No, I'm not kiddin' you, Will. That's why I'm not talkin' right now about some girl I saw at a bar twenty years ago and how I always regretted not going over and talking to her. I don't regret the 18 years I was married to Nancy. I don't regret the six years I had to give up counseling when she got sick. And I don't regret the last years when she got really sick. And I sure as hell don't regret missin' the damn game. That's regret.

Will: Wow... Woulda been nice to catch that game, though.

Sean: I didn't know Pudge was gonna hit a homer. 

O leitor poderá ter saltado o diálogo à frente; não perderá nada se já o conhece. É inegável o pedaço de boa escrita, que se perpetuará do início até ao fim - quase nem preciso referi-lo, o texto fala por si, no fim de contas. E o filme até começa como o mais comum dos filmes, mas a viragem dá-se logo cedo, na cena do bar de Harvard, quando Will se interpõe entre o amigo Chuckie (Ben Affleck, que patilha com Damon a autoria do argumento) e aquela imitação pedante de Michael Bolton. A sua perspicácia de raciocínio, a ousadia da atitude, o efetivo conhecimento, o poder da eloquência... Depois desse momento inspirador, aguardamos por um filme não só emocionante, mas capaz de nos marcar e essa expetativa, viremos a corroborá-la. Aquilo que Sean fará, ao mesmo tempo que se sujeita às provocações de Will, é não desistir dele, assim como, de certa forma, também o faz o professor Gerald - é curioso como, de repente, Sean e Gerald parecem assumir as figuras/referências paternais que sempre faltaram ao rapaz. Discutem inclusivé pelo rapaz, deixando subir à tona o seu passado. Mas é claro que a relação mais importante - até porque o conduzirá à catarse emocional, é a que se estabelece com o psicólogo. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. Will terá que aprender a confiar mais em si e nos outros, para a superação da cobardia e da sua disfunção de relacionamento. Tem o exemplo de Sean e a oportunidade com Skylar (confirmação de Minnie Driver). Essa é a estrada que o levará a encontrar o seu lugar no mundo.

Um clássico de mestre que, ensinando a necessidade da auto-descoberta, só pode inspirar gerações.