I Always Tell the Truth, Even When I lie

Scarface has been my favorite movie since I first saw the opening scene. “I’m Tony Montana, a political prisoner from Cuba, and I want my human right. Now. Just like the President Jimmy Carter says.” It kept getting better as it went on. By the time the last line was snorted, the gun smoke settled, and the end credits rolled I knew that I had made a connection with this movie in an almost spiritual way. I didn’t know that at the time. Back then I would have told you that I loved the drama, the emotion, the violence, the dialogue, the scenery, or any number of other surface level things that make the movie a classic. But now, I know better.

It came to me in meditation, as nearly all valuable insights do; the reason why I resonate so strongly with Scarface: Tony Montana is me if I had chosen the dark polarity.

In all honesty, I could have been exactly like him. Brash, self confident, unapologetically myself. I would have sold poison for profit to strangers while fiercely defending my family and friends. I would have murdered anyone who got in my way, but never women or children. I would have betrayed those who helped me in order to put myself ahead, and I would have done it to their face. I would always tell the truth, even when I lie. I would have gone after the woman I wanted, and I would have showered her with money instead of love, time, and attention. I would never have found myself out of arms reach of a firearm, and I would most definitely have gone out with the biggest bang anyone has ever seen.

Tony Montana is my extreme dark side.

The world is still mine, but I’m sure it also thanks me for choosing the polarity I did. We don’t need any more Tony Montana’s running around flipping Bolivian keys. But that’s not the point here. The point is that movies can be a tool for spiritual healing. If I see my shadow aspects reflected in Tony, then I can use him as a mirror for my own shadow work. He’s showing me where my darkness lies.

Obviously I have abandonment wounds that are reflected in Tony’s attachment to his loved ones. Maybe a part of me cares not for strangers while I place too high a value on the people in my life in the way Tony tries to control those closest to him. Perhaps a lack of self esteem makes me feel like I have to constantly prove my value to others in the way Tony aspires to be the Coke King of Miami. I might even place my power onto things outside of myself in order to deny my own in the same way Tony obsesses over money, drugs, guns, and tigers, maybe some lady tiger?

Lots to unpack from a 3 hour Floridian epic, and that’s the point I’m trying to make here. Your favorite movie probably says a lot more than you think it does. How do you see yourself in the main character? What is this person trying to show you about yourself? If you’re going to look at your favorite film from the perspective of a time-killing excuse to eat popcorn, then it will tell you nothing. But if you’re able to look at your favorite movie as art, and if you allow yourself to deconstruct, analyze, and appreciate the depths of the piece and how it corresponds to your inner world, then you will be staring at the hidden aspects of` yourself right in the eyes.

And Tony certainly made it known that, “The eyes Chico, they never lie.”