*SPOILER WARNING* The contents of this post reveal details pertaining to the plot and conclusion of Charlie Wilson's War.
I can only remember walking out of a cinema, stunned to the point of silence, twice in my life. Once was from this movie.
I can't tell you why this movie affected me so. No, it might not be the greatest movie ever made, it's not be the most action packed, nor even focused on the most pressing poignant issues. But I left it muted none-the-less.
I think it's because it was about a man that made a difference, and that's all I want to do. I don't know how I'm going to do it, I don't know what form it will manifest, I just know that I want to make a difference. Not for recognition, not for glory; simply because it feels right.
The film resonated with me, it got my mind thinking, it set my soul afire. From seemingly nowhere, this senator for Texas helped cripple the Soviet army. Being practically unknown, he raised One Billion Dollars to liberate an oppressed people. He got the Pakistanis, Afghans, Israelis, Saudis, and Egyptians, to work together for his cause; he brought together those who, it was said, would never cooperate.
The saddest part of the film is the end, where this man has done a supposed impossible, yet is tormented when he couldn't do more. He raised one billion for the war, but found it impossible to raise one percent of that, just one million, to build a school in post-war Afghanistan. That made me feel insignificant; I don't know how to describe it. It's as though, despite all his accomplishments, the crown jewel wasn't reached, the one really effective piece of support never came. In the end, when there was so much more that could have been done to help, the war was over and "Nobody gives a fuck about a school in Pakistan."
"It's Afghanistan" breathed Charlie Wilson.