Recently, I took a movie escape break and saw Clint Eastwood's superb movie, J. Edgar Hoover. The man's tyranny was well known. The movie portrayed many complex psychodynamic elements, particularly the psychopathology of Hoover's relationship with his mother. However, the most memorable theme for me was Hoover's homosexual relationship with his second in command.
Again, like Memphis, the movie portrayed the trauma of society's condemnation of people for their sexual interest or orientation.
There was the very poignant scene of Hoover's conversation with his mother regarding his fear of dancing with a woman. His mother reminded him of their relative, Daffy, who dressed in women's clothes and eventually committed suicide.
Very pointedly, Hoover's mother said to him, "I'd rather my son be dead than be a Daffy."
Another powerful scene was after Hoover's mother's death. He put on his mother's necklace and dress and allowed himself to grieve.
The debate, of the movie's fact or fiction and its various psychological themes, could go on ad infinitum and are of no importance to me. However, what saddens me most about the story, which is based on social reality, that any form or expression of love is forbidden in our society.
We, the members of the human race, must realize love is just another word for God.
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