The Shawshank Redemption
“Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.” – Andy Dufresne
“In fact this is why we work hard and struggle, because we have set our hope on the living God, who is the Savior of all people, especially of believers.” – 1 Timothy 4:10
Why is this movie so beloved to make it atop this list? It seems an unlikely choice on the surface. It technically lost money on its first theatrical release (making $16 million on a $25 million budget). It wasn’t an incredibly star-driven film or helmed by a distinguished director. It didn’t revolutionize filmmaking or win a slew of awards (although it was nominated for 7 Oscars). While favorably reviewed, there were a handful that found it unappealing. (Some critics stated that the movie “makes us feel we’re doing harder time than the folks inside” and “seems to last about a half a life sentence.” Some takes just don’t age well.)
And yet, the love for this film has only grown over time, owing its greatest success to home videos and cable distribution. Some things just take time to appreciate, and like fine wine, Shawshank has only gotten better with age. There is a reason that this movie continuously finds itself at the pinnacle of great movie lists such as these. But what is it?
I contend that it is the spirit of the message that is embedded into this story. It calls to each and every one of us, asking us a deep and penetrating question that is inescapable as we struggle through this life: Is there any hope?
For Andy Dufresne it seems like all hope is lost. Sentenced to life in prison for a crime he did not commit, he walks the path to his incarceration as inmates hurl insults and abuses at him and the other “fresh fish.” A shot of Andy looking upward as he enters the large stone building evokes feelings of walking into cathedral. The experience can be enlightening as a source of truth or discouraging as the site of judgment. The inmates feel the weight of the latter as reality begins to set in. This is my new home. This is where I will be confined for the rest of my life. This is where I will die.
Other inmates have already accepted their fate and given up any hope. Ellis Boyd “Red” Redding is the encapsulation of this acknowledgement. We are introduced to him at a parole hearing where he is asked whether he has been “rehabilitated.” He has all the right words, sounds contrite and well-spoken. “I’m a changed man, that the God’s honest truth. No longer a danger to society.” He is swiftly denied parole and Red later shows no signs that that there was any other outcome possible. Even other inmates simply state that they have “rejection meetings” coming soon as well. These imprisoned men have become jaded to hope, having already accepted that any parole or freedom will be denied. Later on, Red will exclaim that “when they sentence you to life, that’s exactly what they take.” Even those who claim they have given up hope understand implicitly that hope and life and inextricably linked. Being hopeless is truly lifeless.
Andy proves himself different than the rest of the inmates and especially those entering in with him. The men who’ve already accepted their incarceration begin taking bets on who will break down on the first night. “It’s a good a thing to bet on as any” and once the lights go out the men want to be entertained by removing any hope that their new counterparts may have mistakenly carried in from the outside. While others fold under the pressure and the taunts from within the cells, Andy remains stoic and unphased. Even in the face of greater opposition in the coming months, Andy refuses to lose his humanity or lose hope.
Consistent steadfastness in the face of opposition can’t help but be noticed, even admired. There is something clearly different about Andy, not just his greater education or demeanor, but in the way that he views life and, therefore, how he carries himself. He has hope. Not just the wishful thinking of a better tomorrow, but the confidence of something that will win out in the future. The sureness that there is something more to life than just these stone walls that surround him. The practical consequence of hope is perseverance. Continuing even when things are difficult, even when it feels like you are getting nowhere or the worst is bound to happen.
I can’t help but think of the three men who persevered in their unwavering commitment not to bow down to any foreign gods. Miles away from home, serving a country not their own, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah found themselves in a hopeless situation. Submit to the king’s orders or die by the intense flames of the fiery furnace. While everyone else around them succumbed to the environment, trading their convictions for immediate security, these three men courageously stood when everyone else bowed. Their hope was in something greater than the Babylonian king’s power; a hope undaunted by certain death; a hope that couldn’t die even if they could (Daniel 3:1-30).
Andy’s perseverance shows in two specific instances. The first is when other inmates target him in order to take advantage of him. All alone Andy continually fights them off with varying measures of success. Instead of debasing himself, Andy chooses to persevere getting beat to an inch of his life. Some things are just not worth selling your soul for, which also means that some things are worth dying for. Secondly, Andy attempts to renovate the prison library by sending letters every week to the state government asking for funds. They are largely ignored, but Andy continues to persevere. After six years the government sends money and books to the prison asking Andy to stop pestering them with letters every week. This only motivates Andy to write two letters every week until the government provides a consistent stipend for the growth of the prison library. (The similarities between Andy and the persistent widow of Jesus’s parable in Luke 18:1-8 are unmistakable.)
All this occurs under the firm and controlling hand of Warden Norton. The warden is a living contradiction that is sadly too often exemplified by many within cultural Christianity. He professes a faith that he does not live by. He has all the knowledge, but none of the hope. He welcomes the incoming prisoners saying, “Put your trust in the Lord, your [backside] belongs to me.” He twists the hope of Christ into a method of controlling others and gaining power, wealth and prestige (1 Peter 5:3). But like all contradictions, something must give. There will come a time when the God he professes and the god he serves will meet face to face.
The overbearing leadership, constant captivity, and a dwindling prospect of leaving is a terrible combination that leaves many inmates not even wanting any hope. Brooks, a well-respected man who has been incarcerated for over 50 years, finds himself in that very position. As an old man who has lived most of his life on the inside, he finds the prospects of returning to the real world unfathomable. He almost resorts to attacking another inmate so that he will not be released. Some find this behavior confusing, but Red supplies some piercing wisdom. He calls Brooks “institutionalized” by his time in prison. “In here he’s an important man, an educated man. Out there he’s nothing.” He continues saying, “These walls are funny. First you hate ‘em, then you get used to ‘em. Enough time passes you get so you depend on ‘em.”
Once you strip a person of hope, he will actually find comfort in the walls of imprisonment. The very things that rob us of hope are the things that we soon can’t imagine living without. Jesus diagnosed the problem stating, “people loved the darkness rather than the light, because their deeds were evil. For everyone who does evil deeds hates the light and does not come to the light, so that their deeds will not be exposed” (John 3:19-20). Throughout the New Testament humankind is described as enslaved to sin. The world finds itself in a dangerous place. Many find themselves like Brooks, refusing to leave the captivity of sin because they have not only gotten used to it, but have come to depend on it. Their hope is in the very thing that is depriving them of any possibility of hope. Sometimes sin is the only community we are comfortable with. And true hope is often an uncomfortable endeavor, at least at the beginning.
When Andy chooses to exemplify hope it rarely comes without risk. The first occurs during work duty on the roof while the head guard publicly complains about taxes and lawyers that he will have to deal with because of an inheritance. Andy speaks up despite the risk, providing a loophole to the guard’s tax dilemma. He only asks for a couple beers for himself and the rest of the prisoners working. When the head guard comes through on his end of the deal, Andy doesn’t even partake of his prize, claiming he gave up drinking. Red argues that “I think he did it just to feel normal for a while, even if for a short time.”
The second comes with greater risk and a greater price. Along with books for the library Andy is provided records and record player. In a moment left alone in the office he decides to play music over the intercom. Even though no prisoner could understand the Italian singer, “for the briefest moment every man in Shawshank felt free.” His punishment is a month in solitary confinement which Andy claims was the easiest time he’d ever done.
The men at lunch can’t believe Andy’s attitude toward the situation. He explains, “You need it [music], so you don’t forget that there are places in the world that aren’t made of stone. That there’s something inside that they can’t get to, they can’t touch, that’s yours.”
“What are you talking about?” Red asks.
“Hope,” Andy answers.
“Hope? Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane. It’s got no use on the inside.”[1]
Red has given up hope. We find him again at another parole hearing offering up the same slop with the same response. To him, hope is a pointless endeavor. But Andy’s words leave him restless. Like a popcorn kernel lodged in the back of his teeth, Andy’s hope keeps gnawing at him, compelling a response. Andy gifts him a harmonica which metaphorically acts like a probing question: Are you willing to hope? Red doesn’t want to play at hope just yet. He’s hedging his bets. As “the only guilty man in Shawshank” he might not think he deserves to hope.
Andy continues to hope even in the midst of the warden’s growing business schemes that he faithfully accounts for. The warden has chosen to use the labor of the prisoners to undercut local businesses and pocket the profits. His true colors show when another prisoner, Williams, arrives. Andy takes him under his wing and disciples him toward obtaining his high school diploma. Williams wants to repay the favor by testifying to the confession of a previous inmate concerning the murder of Andy’s wife and lover. The warden shuts down any possibility of this happening for fear of losing his golden goose. Andy’s hope was misplaced in the warden and he pays for it with further solitary confinement. There he learns that Williams has indeed passed his certification. Maybe hope is worthwhile after all. But then the warden permanently removes any possibility for Andy’s release by having Williams killed. Is there any hope when evil men hold the reigns of power? The warden pontificates that “the right thing to do, sometimes it’s hard to know what that is.” With respect, we along with the warden know the right thing. Instead, he is motivated by selfishness, avarice, and a lust for power.
Once out we see Andy reflecting on his situation. He realizes that his hope in the warden was misplaced. He was never going to help him. But is all hope lost? Does the depravity of human beings suggest that there is no hope at all? Andy responds with a statement that should shake us out of any malaise we might experience in our own lives: “Get busy living, or get busy dying.” This is not a statement of hopelessness as if we are all doomed to a meaningless life and, therefore, “let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die” (1 Corinthians 15:32). Much like Paul, Andy is suggesting that there is hope and it requires us to act. Hope is not a passive endeavor. As Andy shows, it requires perseverance. Too often people are too passive and too lazy to effectively hope. Too often most people are not really living, they’re simply waiting to die.
The culmination of Andy’s hope comes when one morning he is no longer found in his cell. We come to find that Andy had been faithfully digging a tunnel for the last 19 years. Hope coupled with perseverance. And hope has finally arrived. But hope and judgment are often the flip side of the same coin. Andy’s escape means that the warden’s crimes have been exposed. He is left with the very same Bible that he gave Andy upon his arrival which states, “Salvation lies within.” If only the warden had taken his own advice. Instead, “the wicked will be captured by their own iniquities, and he will be held by the cords of his own sin. He will die because there was no discipline; because of the greatness of his folly he will reel” (Proverbs 5:22-23). The warden placed his hope in his own power. Fatefully the discipline that he demanded from his inmates was the very same discipline he was unwilling to commit to in his own life. It ultimately cost him his very life and soul.
“Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.” These words ring true only if certain claims about the world are true. Hope is meaningless if it is only in the “human spirit” or some impersonal concept of karma. If hope is simply “wishful thinking” then Red is right. It’s got no use for us on the inside. But this is not how the Bible defines hope. Hope is not just placating thoughts meant to distract from an inevitable end. It is not just a blind optimism that tomorrow might be better. Hope is the confident expectation of something that has been proven will take place, that no matter what occurs in the meantime, death, evil and sin, will not ultimately be victorious. Can there really be such hope?
Ironically, this kind of hope that never dies only happens when we place it in the very person that died in our place. The very God who could rightfully punish us for our rebellion and sin chose to enter into this world adding to himself a human nature. He made the one who was sinless to be sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God by placing our faith in him (2 Corinthians 5:21 and Galatians 3:26). Our hope is not in ourselves that we might figure a way out of our situation, that we might eventually get our act together, and someday things might get better if we just believe hard enough. No amount of belief in myself could change the mess I was in which is why my hope is not in myself, but in the very God who sacrificed his life where mine was due. This hope was proven worthy by the fact that Jesus Christ, himself God, did not stay dead, but three days later rose from the grave demonstrating once and for all that there was truly hope for mankind. “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By his great mercy he gave us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” (1 Peter 1:3-4).
Deep down we can’t help but hope. It’s engrained into our very nature. When we lose hope, we lose a bit of our humanity. Our problem is that too often we put our hope in things and people that were never up for the task. Instead of losing hope, I suggest we look to the only one able to come through on the promise of hope. The hope of eternal life, life as we were designed to have it, was promised before the ages began (Titus 1:2). That’s not just wishful thinking. It’s the surest thing in this world. “For we know that since Christ was raised from the dead, he cannot die again; death no longer has mastery over him” (Romans 6:9). Death no longer needs to have mastery over you either (Romans 10:9-11). God conquered death through Jesus Christ so that “you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name. (John 20:31). So, what do you say? Let’s get busy living!
Should I Watch This Movie? – It sits at the top of the list for a reason. But beware of some spicy language and uncomfortable scenes of unwanted prison intimacy.
Should This Movie Be in the Top 250? – Obviously. You will not find me among the regrettable few film critics who panned this classic.
[1] Interestingly enough, another movie tries to play out the dichotomy of hope and despair. In The Dark Knight Rises when Bruce Wayne is placed in an ancient prison after being defeated in battle by Bane, the villain explains his motives for keeping Bruce alive. “There cannot be true despair without hope.” Bane argues that the deepest misery comes from when hope is misplaced and ultimately is shown unable to deliver. I partially agree. Misguided hope often leads to greater despair. But what happens when hope is placed in something (or someone) worthwhile? Someone who has never failed and never will?