Good For Bad
Can we hope for the best for people we disagree with?
‘Why do bad things happen to good people?’ is a well-worn question. Not so well-worn that it has been answered to general satisfaction, but it’s a familiar and troubling issue to raise. That question’s inverse is perhaps less often asked but equally difficult to wrestle with: ‘Why do good things happen to bad people?’. Or we might put it slightly differently: ‘Is it possible to want good things for people with whom we profoundly disagree?’
It seems to me that this is a very of-the-moment issue. We are, as we well know, increasingly divided into political and cultural clans, each convinced of its own rightness and the terpitude of the others. These fault lines run through families, neighbourhoods, churches, and friendship groups. Is it, then, possible to still want to see those on the other side of these divides flourish, grow, and get what they long for?
That is where the film Marty Supreme comes in. Set in the 1950s and based very loosely on a true story, it follows a shoe saleseman in New York who is also a brilliant table-tennis player. He loses to his nemesis in a finals match early in the film, and the rest of the film tells the story of his desperate struggle to get to the World Championships in Japan for a rematch and to prove that he is the best. If that sounds like a typical sports film, then to a certain extent that would be a correct impression. But there is more going on; the obstacles put in Marty’s way are increasingly hard to overcome and often tinged with comedy. Sometimes they are out and out humiliations. Along the way he falls in with a bad crowd as he tries to raise the money for his trip, and the world of crime becomes a part of the picture. Most importantly, there is the central character of Marty himself. In most sports films - think of the Rocky films, typically - we as viewers identify with and like the central character. His victory is our victory. Marty, though, is objectionable. He says horrible things; he offends, deliberately. He steals. He is arrogant. He takes what he can get from a relationship, then dumps the other person. He uses people. He steals.
As this unpleasant character goes through a variety of degradations and humiliations in pursuit of his goal, we laugh at him and enjoy seeing him get what we may think he deserves for acting in such a way. Then, eventually, comes a final showdown across the table-tennis table; in that climactic match, who are we rooting for? Do we, the audience, still want this unpleasant man who has been humiliated and suffered to get where he is, and remains steadfastly unrepentant, to get what he longs for? Can we still cheer for him? Would his victory be our victory too, or would it leave a sour taste in our mouths?
These are not comfortable questions. What have we come to, the film asks, when we struggle to want victory for someone who has been through a lot but with whom we do not share similar views? Have we become so dependent on our own rightness that we cannot see the humanity and need on the other side of the fence? These remain difficult questions to wrestle with. The issues that divide us seem increasingly existential - questions about racism, gender, sexuality, and others seem so key to who we are as people that disagreement is (for everybody involved) something we cannot compromise on. How do we reconcile this? How do we learn to see the humanity and need in the one we so passionately disagree with?
I don’t have easy answers, and Marty Supreme doesn’t offer any. But it points up the importance of the questions - do we invite those we disagree with to dinner? Do we have relaxed morning coffee with someone on the other side of the divide? If that other person holds views we hate, can we still want the best for them? Such questions get to the heart of our humanity, and leave us ever more dependent on a God who loves each the same, and invites each of us to a deeper, more rigorous self-examination and love for the other.