The Man without a Face

I've often said that my favorite movie is The Man without a Face. That's not entirely accurate. There are parts in the movie that really resonate with me. The movie is about a man named Justin McLeod. He has burns over half his body. He lives alone.

I'm really drawn to what he's surrounded himself with. It is a fortress. He's protecting himself from something. We don't know why until later. But it's almost a symbol of what we are. His home borders a lake; it's edge made of boulders. The sounds of sea-gulls are a rythmic song throughout the day, along with the mystical sound of falling waves. The house is beautiful. Trees enshroud the front, and it's back is exposed to the lake. There is a stable in the backyard housing a horse, a make-shift boat he's working on, a lawn neatly trimmed and taken care of. He is a man who is good with his hands, an outdoors-man. He is seen at one point cutting up red-meat with a butcher-knife and feeding it to a German Shepherd, who is obedient and trained.

His house is a treasure-chest of wonders. Nautical themes are festooned throughout the 1st floor: binoculers, ship models in bottles, worn maps on papyrus, antique clocks, rows and rows of hardback, leatherbound books, manikins posing for different motifs (McLeod is an artist), paints and pastels, rough drafts strewn about the floor (he has painted for Time Magazine), chess pieces arranged as if in the middle of a game, an attic full of mysterious boxes, a wooden tree-trunk with a tragic face carved within, Opera comes from an old record player while he reads the beginning lines of Virgil's Aeneid. He is a poet, an artist, a carpenter, a teacher, a scholar, a philosopher, a Thoreau-esque self-sufficient man, the kind of man a part of me is really drawn to.

But he is misunderstood. The town gossips about why he has his scars from his burns. It's rumored he's a homosexual, that he molested a former student of his, etc . . . So he is a recluse. Sort of like God. God is hidden only to those who don't search for Him. And for those who don't, the wildest theories surround who He is or what He's done.

There is a powerful scene where after reading from The Aeneid (he, like Aeneas, is under Juno's unslumbering wrath: I sing of war, and a Man at war: Long labors, both by sea and land, he bore), he puts a mirror up to his face, the scars are gone momentarily . . . until the mirror shifts to the right, revealing the burns, whereupon he is disgusted. That scene is very profound, as it gives us a brief insight into our spiritual wretchedness outside of Christ. McLeod is a tragic hero.

Meet Chuck Norstadt. He is full of wonder, he aspires to go to military school, and fulfill his dreams of being a pilot. The only problem is that he needs a teacher to help him pass the entrance exams. His family thinks he is a dreamer. He lost his real Father young, and his mother is 'seeing' another man. This event has affected him deeply; he is told his dad died when his spy plane was shot down, but later he finds he was an alcoholic, and driven to madness, later dying in an insane asylum. He needs a father-figure.

And thus begins the relationship between Chuck and Mr. McLeod. The wonder begins during their teaching sessions. There is a rough start, but they soon begin to enjoy the best things in life, as McLleod prepares Chuck - in his own unique way - for Military School. During one scene, McLeod teaches Chuck how to read poetry, especially Shakespeare. "It's not a cereal box you're reading.", McLeod admonishes. "Why can't I read it silently?", Chuck asks. "Because it's a play! You perform it! I hold the world not as the world, Horatio, where every man must play a part: and mine, a sad one." He tells Chuck to read a poem called High Flight by John Magee, a military pilot during WW2. The poem is magnificent; and the way Chuck reads it is very moving. If you want, please do yourself a favor, and read it here: http://www.woodiescciclub.com/high-flight.htm.

There's another scene at the end. Chuck is graduating; he's looking for that face beyond the crowd, hinted at at the beginning of the movie. Everyone is congradulating him; but he's not satisfied. He gets up on a chair and sees a lone man walking away from the crowd. He turns around. It's him. They wave. All this is meaningless to you unless you see it or share my sentiments. These are some of the reasons why I love this movie. It's strange, too, that the movie as a whole is imperfect, but that there are scenes that truly shine.