The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

“The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” is an intelligent, well-made French movie that asks a difficult question: Would life still be worth living if your body was almost completely paralyzed?

As Christians, we believe that life is always worth living. We believe that God is sovereign, that he is able to glorify Himself through us no matter what our condition. This is something we all know on a theoretical level. In practice, however, would we still feel that way, or would we long for death?

The protagonist of this movie, which is based on a true story, finds himself in that exact situation. Jean-Mo, a 43-year old man who works as the editor of Elle, suffers a horrible stroke while in the prime of his life. His brain stem is destroyed. He cannot speak. Later, he reflects that there are only two parts of his body the stroke did not destroy—his imagination and his memory.

He is able to move his left eye. This gives his nurses an idea on how he can communicate. They will recite the alphabet to him and he will blink when they say the letter he desires. That way he can spell out words, sentences, paragraphs, even pages.

At first, he tires of the long repetitive process, but eventually he warms up to the idea that he may still have something to offer the world. He will write a book about his life.

Much of the story is told in flashback. Two of these scenes, as a Christian, were particularly interesting to me. In one, his nurse wheels him to church. He tells his audience that he is not a religious man and, at first, did not appreciate being wheeled into the sacristy. However, after meeting the priest and sensing the pure motives of his nurse, he seems to realize that there might be something much deeper in this kingdom of spirituality. However, this sequence is hardly an apologetic for Christianity. We see that other faith communities around the world—Buddhists, Muslims, Hindus, even a witch doctor in Africa—are petitioning their deities on his behalf.

The other flashback deals with a trip to Lourdes with a former paramour. While there, his girlfriend has him buy her an illuminated Madonna. He buys it, reluctantly. Later, lying in bed, he stares up at the Madonna staring at them and complains that he can’t make love with her watching. He asks to unplug it, and she refuses. Immediately, he decides to break up with her.

What I got from this, and the film in general, was the vast difference between how secular and faith communities often view such conditions. The world sees a life-crippling paralysis as devastating. (How many times have you heard someone say “if I ever wind up in that condition, please kill me?”) God, however, can use it for redemption. I was reminded of Joni Eareckson Tada, who’s been in a wheelchair for more than 40 years after a 1967 diving accident rendered her a quadriplegic. God has used her mightily as a Christian witness and an advocate for the disabled community. He could do the same for us.

Now there’s a chilling thought.

What is objectionable about the film: There are two quick flashes of a woman’s breasts and there is a brief shot of male nudity while Jean-Mo is being bathed in the hospital pool. (How this can be seen as erotic, however, is beyond me.) The profanity is tame by worldly standards, though “God” is used as an exclamation a number of times and “Christ” is used once.

But I think that’s it.

Violence: None / Profanity: Minor / Sex/Nudity: Mild

See list of Relevant Issues—questions-and-answers.