I had recently wrote a short story about a man trying to escape Earth. Currently I'm writing a story about a man zealously committed to a specific goal and the idea associated with it. Today I saw this movie mentioned in a video, and it immediately brought up memories of the first time I watched it. I felt something at the time, which I couldn't quite articulate in words. Gattaca appeared to me as a motivational sort of movie, but the way it tackled the subject matter was so different from other movies of this sort. Seeing how I've not felt motivated in god knows how long, in addition to the aforementioned factors, I thought there was no better time for me to rewatch it and this time formulate my thoughts on it. By "motivational movie" I meant those movies that portray their protagonists as striving towards a certain goal, which seems impossible, but through the sheer power of human will they manage to achieve it. Usually it's something basic like winning in a tournament of some kind. In these movies the determination and the strength that allow the protagonist to achieve their goals are usually portrayed as something that can be summoned. As this brute force that helps you get through immeasurable tortures on your path to greatness. It always comes off as something violent and aggressive. Gattaca is different. The "human will" here always appeared to me as rather gentle and sophisticated. The goal is poetic and wondrous: a desire to face the limitless unknown (of which the ocean is a great metaphor). The victory is bittersweet, not triumphant. I think, what we're witnessing here is not life being transformed by a push, fuelled by a summoned force of motivation. We're seeing motivation as identity. Something that isn't codified in genes, yet such an essential part of this human being that you'd swear it's imprinted in their blood. We're seeing a complete sacrifice of a given life for the sake of creating one that would match the inner being of this individual. The last line "I'm going home" is very indicative of this. He is not of this world. And this exceptionalism wasn't given to him by his genes. Ironically, this "inferior" man turns out to be special precisely because he transcends biological conditions. His personality is so dominant that it literally manifests in physicality. I think, this is why this story doesn't feel like that of an aggressive raw struggle. This is why it's gentle and poetic. This is not a story of a man who's out to conquer. This is a story of a man who's just trying to be himself. It's not that he chooses to become an astronaut. He has no choice. He is an astronaut. This is why the victory is not triumphant. He doesn't transition into a new level of being, he continues being himself, it's the reality around him that changes to match his already ascendant being. The first time I saw this movie, I was ill, seriously ill. I didn't think I'd make it, but I did. But the illness hasn't gone away, simply subsided, became a permanent condition, an omnipresent burden. Not bad enough to be a disability, not good enough to allow an unimpeded lifestyle. I have to live with it now, some days are better than others. Only now in retrospect I'm starting to understand the significance of this movie in my life. I may not be an exceptional person like the protagonist here, but I have something in common with him. I also have no choice. I also haven't saved anything for the swim back. I think that's precisely the point. It's not about victory, it's about living out your true identity against all odds.