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For the record, what you are about to read is not a top ten list. I'm offering a slightly different take on the old standard because, for me at least, going to the movies isn't always about digesting the most lauded picture I can. I spend the time at the multiplex, rather, in hope that my experiences there might challenge and inspire me to live how I intend. So, with that in mind, here's a list of films that helped shape and mold me in 1999—ten movies that made my year.

My struggles in living the Christian life rarely stem from a lack of biblical instruction, but from a lack of understanding how to live by God's principles. I suspect I'm not alone in this condition; Jesus often followed up his teachings with parables that illustrated his message so people like me could grasp what he said more easily. To feed this hunger, I often find myself reading the journals of Henri Nouwen or the memoirs of Kathleen Norris, to see how faith and passion can survive the day-to-day grind. And occasionally, I'll find stories like these at the movies. This year, The Straight Story helped instruct me on the nature of forgiveness.

David Lynch's film tells the true story of Alvin Straight, an old man who drove a lawnmower from Iowa to Wisconsin to meet with his estranged and dying brother. In experiencing his slow and painful journey, I caught a glimpse of the Herculean feat that forgiveness really is. My physical obstacles in the way of forgiveness are not nearly so great, but the emotional vulnerability the act requires is just as painful, and just as slow. I'm fantastic at forgiving people in my heart, at releasing grudges, but for me to tell the person I've forgiven that I've done so is wrenchingly difficult. Perhaps it's fear of being trampled on again, or of revealing how dark my heart's really been. Somehow, though, in acknowledging how difficult the process can be, and allowing it to remain difficult (as Straight does by refusing any rides), I'm allowed the freedom to stay the course. To me, Straight is a worthy model; as the film progresses it's clear that his attempt at forgiveness is not simply a last-minute chance to validate his life, but simply something that must be done because of who he is.

Forgiveness is also at the heart of Magnolia, a film of interwoven parables and morality plays. Here, the focus is on the power of forgiveness—the life-giving quality at its core—embodied in the character of LAPD officer Jim Kurring, one of the most human and multifaceted Christian characters seen at the movies lately. On his first date with a drug addict, she asks that they not lie to make themselves sound more impressive, and he agrees. In listening to one another's most vulnerable selves, they are able to offer a measure of forgiveness. It's clear that subtraction of blame lifts a great burden from both their hearts and helps them see again their own worth. As Kurring returns to his day job he begins to see the place for mercy in his profession of justice, finding the opportunity to hand back a criminal's life to him—not necessarily a cop's action, but a Christian's. As I struggle each day with attitudes of judgment or offense, it is worth remembering Kurring's story and the forgiveness that I, as one already forgiven, am told to give.

Two films this year transported me back to my youth, alternately bringing joy and guilt, both of which were important to me. For a kid who grew up eating Chewbacca cookies and drinking out of Darth Vader Dixie cups, Star Wars: Episode I—The Phantom Menace delivered spastic waves of giddiness, not only in the actual film but in the months of eager anticipation: scrounging for truthful rumors, exploring the back stories of characters in insider guides, chatting about the movie with every other movie fan my age. Granted, this movie wasn't quite as exciting as the previous trilogy, but that's to be expected when you're tracing the very beginnings of a conflict than when you're in the full throes of it. Actually, by avoiding the focus on good versus evil that the original trilogy details, The Phantom Menace adds nuance and depth to the series by showing how a person at the most innocent and selfless moment is never far from following the dark side—that the fight between good and evil is more often an internal battle than we recognize.

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January (Web-only) 2000, Vol. 44