Shawshank Redemption Watch
Teodolinda Mattson
Ever since I was twenty-five, property development has been my calling. But thanks to an irresistible opportunity, and despite knowing nothing about film, I also became a proud producer on the upcoming sequel, Shawshank Redemption II.
All week I had been imprisoned by negotiations with the Northern Territory Government over this greenfield development. That was until today when, like the great Andy Dufresne himself, I escaped, negotiations pending.
We were seated back-right. Andy Dufresne was atop his beaten-up boat, his old friend, Red, was approaching in a suit and tie. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope... Then the credits fell like rain, and I turned to ask John what he thought.
After John and I saw the original film, my brother changed quite a bit. He sold his bottle shop in the South East and became a yoga instructor. His apartment, which I had never visited before seeing the film, was where we spent most Friday nights and it smelled of incense. He slimmed right down, started believing in crystals. He cooked vegan food and for hours would rant about star signs, relationships, jazz music... Sitting there watching the sequel, John appeared to me from that happy period: his still-muscular face betrayed by a cheeky smile, my vegan brother, John.
I could see him so clearly that when I turned to the seat beside me he was there, enjoying Shawshank Redemption II. Together, we watched as the plot was established: a once in a century storm was approaching. Together, we watched Andy rush to town for more supplies right before the storm hit. And together, we watched Rosa and Red gather around the fire in his absence, the last clear night for a while, stars dotting the Mexican sky, his best friend and his lover, together.
Then, soon, like so many things in life and indeed life itself, the film ended. Just like that, the moment I had fantasised about throughout the entire development was over. And more: it had been ruined, soiled.
Before I realised it, I was pressing Richie Klein over the ledge. Below were cars, shrimp tails and the street, a long fall, a three-storey death fall. I wanted to tell him about John and the original film and his change, a secret I had kept to myself, but as I tried to speak, Klein shrieked and clutched at my collar. I struck him in the face several times to shut him up. Blood spread from his nose. He clutched at the fairy lights in desperation. I tore his hand from the lights and nearly dropped him, before the thick cords gave me an idea.
Production on the film had finished. To celebrate, there was a private screening of Shawshank Redemption II at the director\u2019s house on the Sydney Harbour. When I arrived, I scanned the golden foyer and spotted Richie Klein: world famous director, two Academy Awards. I had been in Darwin all day on business so I arrived minutes before the screening and moved toward him with pace. Richie and I shook hands, and he introduced me to the women in his company, one on each arm, combined age less than my own.
\u201CAlexa, Thomas here is still a hot-shot property developer,\u201D said Richie. \u201CHe claims Shawshank Redemption II will be his only film. He hasn\u2019t even read the script because he wants to be surprised. Isn\u2019t that just the magic of cinema, unlike say, property? Thomas, how is that big hole in Darwin going? Still a big hole?\u201D
Soon we were ushered into Richie\u2019s private cinema. In attendance were the other producers and their partners, and a few attractive celebrities. I found a seat on my own at the back-right, and sat down just as the velvet curtains retreated. I had somehow made it on time, what a day. A minute later the lights dimmed and the screen came alive. Then the film began; my film began.
I\u2019m old enough that I also saw the original The Shawshank Redemption in the cinemas. I saw it with my brother, John, in 1994 on a Friday night. I was thirty-four years old then, which means John was fifty-four.
John was my father\u2019s son from a previous marriage. We were brothers, but because of the twenty-year age gap we were not similar in upbringing, interests, in anything, really. We were raised in different worlds. All we shared was a name, for even our father was different; because a man changes a great deal from eighteen to thirty-eight, so much in fact that he can be said to be a different person.
Take this example: Before my brother was conscripted to serve in Vietnam, my father openly supported the war. He attended pro-War rallies, wrote to the papers daily. But then John was called, and he fought, and he returned with his problems, and my father became the father of a son who had been scarred by war; that is a very different man. By the time I came of age, my father was more reserved, cautious. There were no rallies, no passionate letters. We spoke plainly, practically. He suggested I invest in property. Australian property is safe, he\u2019d always say, so I started digging big holes in which to hide.
When John returned from Vietnam we drifted further apart. As a child, I thought he was everything I wanted to be but wasn\u2019t: physically strong, an expert with women, courageous; he was a fighter, while I had never thrown a punch. But in those post-war years, my picture of him developed. He wasn\u2019t only tough, but distant, not only charismatic, but constructed. Though I tried to reach him, he was guarded, unknowable, not a brother at all.
There, with his giant frame spilling over the armrests, my hulking brother was crying. He had been reduced to tears by The Shawshank Redemption. At first I didn\u2019t know what to do; men rarely do in those situations. But something told me to reach out, so I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he turned to me and this closed-lip, broad smile engulfed his face. It seemed like his soul, which had been hiding in some way his entire life, had finally broken free.
Shawshank Redemption II opened where the original finished, on the same sand and pale blue waters of Zihuatanejo, Mexico. In terms of filming, however, it was done right here on Sydney\u2019s northern beaches. The opening shot: the camera pans from the ocean to Andy\u2019s beat-up boat. The boat is now painted white, and standing on the deck is Andy Dufresne (played by Ryan Reynolds). He\u2019s buttoning up a linen shirt over his six pack abs as his Mexican lover (played by Isabela Merced) appears from below deck. The two embrace under the warmth and love of the sun. The shot widens and there's Red, Andy\u2019s loyal friend, approaching with a stack of firewood. Beautiful.
Red, who was originally played by Morgan Freeman, was lying shirtless on the sand. His Samoan tribal tattoos and vascular quads were on full display. This time around we went with Dwayne \u2018The Rock\u2019 Johnson to portray Red, and as the flames cast patterns over his God-like physique, I finally saw the star quality that Richie Klein had long claimed.
Red\u2019s gaze was soft, reflective, as if he was contemplating friendship, perhaps brotherhood. Soon Rosa appeared and she knelt beside him. A saxophone accompanied their joint contemplation of friendship until, after a long moment of staring into each other's eyes, the two passionately kissed.
I let out a high-pitched, asthmatic shriek. While I hadn\u2019t read the script so I could capture the magic of The Shawshank Redemption, I did not expect such a twist, nor was I prepared for what followed.
Through the gaps in my fingers, I watched Dwayne \u2018The Rock\u2019 Johnson carry Rosa to Andy\u2019s boat. Inside, he flipped over the twenty year old Isabela Merced and started ramming her from behind. I held my breath and prayed for the scene to end but it wouldn\u2019t. So for at least fifteen minutes The Rock ploughed away, his hips thrusting back and forth, the camera zooming closer and closer on his clenching Samoan butt cheeks until I could glean what he ate for breakfast with the accuracy of a gastronome.
I would call the cumshot gratuitous but at least it was final; the scene was over. I let out a desperate sigh. Instead of the heart-wrenching mid-point of the original, where Brooks Hatlen, institutionalised to the core, decides to hang himself, the sequel had this: The Rock\u2019s exposed anus as he railed a woman thirty years his junior.
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