A single observation about the movie Cloverfield

This afternoon I took a break from by preparations for this weekend's pro-life activities to unwind a bit by sitting in a darkened movie environment immersed in dolby digital surround.

I chose the movie Cloverfield, which currently sits comfortably at the top of the weekend box office. I don't have much to say about the movie, per se, because frankly there isn't much to say about it.

Without giving anything away, one little scene did strike me.

The movie is filmed from the perspective of a young man's home movie camera, with him providing a live voice-over narration. During an intense near-death experience, the young man begins blurting out a series of profanities, but tucked away within the stream of cursing is a single, very sincere remark:

"Oh God, I'm so sorry."

And that's it. But it got me thinking: what is it about human nature that causes us, in our moments of greatest fear and with the prospects of eternity proximately looming, to fixate on two things: one, God, and second, contrition.

The young man, in the drama, is not notable religious, he's your quintessential average joe. Neither are the producer, director or script writer, to my knowledge, particularly "religious." But that's the point: you don't need to be. They are simply acting as good artists, trying to capture an emotional moment vividly and realistically:

"Oh God, I'm so sorry."