Leap of Faith

On fatherhood and "Billy Elliott."

By Chuck Nice

I just purchased tickets to see the Broadway production of Billy Elliot. I'm not sure if I'll like it as a stage play but I loved the movie so much I watched it again... and I love it even more now. The movie chronicles the journey of the eponymous lead character in his quest to break free from his brutally oppressive life via dance. Instead of entangling myself in the details of Billy's dismal existence, I will just tell you that it's a typical Irish film; if you need more of a description than that, then you've obviously never seen an Irish movie.

The movie is richly layered and offers insight on many universal human anxieties: acceptance by friends and family, fear of failure and success, complacency, aspiring to greatness and following your heart. But the aspect of the movie that most intrigued me was the relationship between Billy and his father. Billy's father is an emotionally rigid coal miner, whose emotional range consists of strong annoyance and howling rage. He spends the majority of the movie steeped in anger due to pressures he must endure while trying to provide for his family during a protracted labor strike. But what he lacks in a nurturing touch he makes up for in sheer devotion and love for his family: He's the dad that spurs your need for therapy and then upon receiving said therapy you realize "he ain't so bad after all."

I know many men, including myself, that had a dad such as Billy's while growing up. I could have exchanged fathers with most of the guys I knew and we wouldn't have known the difference. A typical night in the home went like this: Dad comes home. He's in such a good mood he can barely speak; he's overwhelmed with joy so he mutters things under his breath because he doesn't like appearing emotional. Your mother knows he's a deep thinker, so she tells you not to bother him. A little later he's got to have a talk with you, because your mother once again told him that the boy is out of control. You realize he has a hearing problem because the talk happens at a very high decibel level. He goes to sleep.

I know the experience I just related is extremely narrow and maybe it's not a typical night, but most of the guys I know consider themselves lucky to have even that experience - the others didn't have a father at all. The great thing about all of the men that I know who grew up with that kind of a father is that now they all appreciate why their father behaved that way. Many of them, including myself, have kids and now they know how hard dear old dad really had it. Never judge a man until you work a 12 or 14 hour day and then come home to his wife and screaming kids. It's difficult to identify with the fear, pressure, and anxiety that your dad experienced until you realize it yourself. I have often said that the most difficult challenge any man will ever face is fatherhood; it is one that I relish, but I also understand why men abandoned their families. Men who hang in there and do whatever it takes to provide for their families are to be commended - mothers you're only doing what you're supposed to do... I'm joking, you get the same commendation.

At the movie's end Billy's father is willing to sacrifice everything he has and believes in to give his son a chance at realizing his dreams of being a professional dancer. I would certainly do the same, yes even if it was to help him become a ballerina; but in the mean time, I think I'll just try to be a little more pleasant when I come home from work.