We are in Moscow during the last years of the Soviet Union. And teenager Boris Fishkin, the hero of the film My Father is Baryshnikov (2011), is studying at a ballet school. He grew up with only his mother, who had kept his father a secret from him.
One day, Boris begins to think that his birth father is the famous ballet dancer Mikhail Baryshnikov. A worn-out videotape is to blame, which gives him confidence in front of his friends. To prove it, he starts training more and is even willing to fill in for an injured classmate.
Meanwhile, he also succeeds in selling Russian souvenirs to Western tourists until Soviet secret agents discover him. The film ends with the discovery of his birth father, who has been in prison for financial crimes. And the economic genes eventually prevail over ballet in Fishkin as well.
The Russian comedy pleases the viewer with a good choice of a small actor who does not behave at all like a victim of the system and a single mother who always brings home a new guy. Boris is inventive on several levels.
We also see this attitude in Jesus’ activity when he decides to go to Jerusalem at the end of his life. He does not plead fate, the stars, or the bad luck that people bring him. He does not solve the genes. He himself decided on the trap that awaits him in Jerusalem. At one point, he says that no one takes his life; he gives it himself…
A wonderful activity and immense freedom radiate from this. This feeling is also conveyed in the story of the man who was blind from birth. Man was created from the earth and from the breath of God, that is, the active participation of God. If man closes himself off from the Spirit, it is as if matter remains immersed in darkness.
Christ heals such humanity with mud made of clay and his saliva, as if he were imitating the Father’s act when he created man on the sixth day. The blind man is not forced to believe in this miracle. Jesus does not offer him salvation by force.
He leaves it to him to decide whether to step out to the Pool of Siloam to wash there. The free man calls others to freedom as well.
The water of Siloam was used to wash proselytes—people who were joining the chosen Jews. The blind man, having fallen in love with the words of Jesus, decided to step out to the water. He preferred the Spirit, which is why his final gesture is a bow before Christ, his Savior.
Because Jesus warms us with his breath, the Holy Spirit, our bodies can also join in the celebration of Jesus, as we have tangibly come to know God’s love. This method does not work with the scribes. They are grafted against Jesus’ medicine. The blind man today experiences the sweetness that the papal preacher recently spoke about in the Vatican. In Francis of Assisi, he noticed that what at first seemed bitter became sweet. If this taste were missing, “a person would build a life with someone for whom he had never felt true love, and such a relationship could easily become a form of coercion.
And if a consecrated person wore a religious habit, made certain gestures and uttered words in the name of a God whom he knew only by hearsay, without any real personal experience, he would soon experience a deep inner unrest—and this could also be transmitted to the people entrusted to him,” observed Capuchin Pasolini.