Friday Noon Movie Club: "Bully"

Last Friday I gave the Friday Noon Movie Club the opportunity to vote on what movie I would see. They sent me to see Bully, and a few of them even kindly came with me. I wasn’t sure what to expect from the documentary. I’ve been feeling like bullying was the new trendy topic, something that comes up because parents always need something to worry about.

I was a tomboy in elementary school, playing tackle football and getting into the occasional fight. Fighting is an inept description of what I was up to—I’d get in one good punch and run, fast. I don’t think my fighting qualified me as a bully, since I tended to be more vigilante than bully. (Think along the lines of the 80s movie My Bodyguard.) I was very self-righteous, very big and tall, and I had a tendency to jump in when necessary until I was in 5^th or 6^th grade. For example, when my scrawny 2^nd grade boyfriend got teased by the bigger boys, I could take them. I probably stepped over the line a bit more in the fight I had with the neighbor girl when I was 5 or 6. I distinctly remember hitting her over the head with a metal shovel and yelling “Get off my property!”

It only took a few minutes of Bully to tell me that it’s about more than just your average playground standoff.

The filmmakers interviewed several children, mostly middle school age, who have been victims of bullying, as well as their parents. They also followed a young man named Alex, who lives in Sioux City, Iowa. They showed him at home, on the school bus and at school. Kids tormented him with terrible words and physical abuse. I had some idea of what it was going to be like, but I was unprepared for the viciousness of the verbal attacks. Some victims are encouraged to stand up for themselves, but that’s just not an option for everyone.

I happen to love and live with two middle-schoolers of my own at the moment. Middle school can be a place where the very best in humankind is displayed—kids are starting to think more critically and they are not jaded, so their idealism and faith development can be beautiful to see. It is also a place that gives Calvinists some powerful evidence for total depravity. The instinct in some to gain, use and abuse power is strong, as is the instinct to stay silent and safe in others.

Parents, teachers and other youth leaders would benefit from Bully. Parents will be particularly affected by the family members who show pictures and videos of the victims as babies and toddlers, talking about them with the same fierce bond of love any parent feels. That aspect of it might be somewhat lost on younger viewers, but their grief would not be.

I’m not sure I’d take just any middle-school student to see it, because the movie includes interviews with the families of several victims who have taken their own lives. While that’s not depicted as a good solution, it might still plant the seed in the mind of a child who is truly struggling—after all, for whatever other consequences there are to suicide, those victims are not being bullied anymore.

For a child who might have a tendency to bully, however, Bully might help them empathize with the victims. With some preparation and some debriefing, parents could use this as a tool to open up a discussion the topic.

At Friday’s screening, there were the four of us, plus a class of high school students who seemed to be paying close attention. Unfortunately for them, they must not have had time for the entire movie, so with about half an hour left, the teachers silently stood up, made a hand motion in the air, and they all filed quietly out. I wish they had been able to see the last portion, which made it clear that the best way to fight bullying is to stand together against it.

There is some feeling of hope at the end as victims and the families of victims gather and speak out against bullying, encouraging young people to stand up for the victims. Though the moviemakers might not recognize it, the film cries out for the real answer: we all need to recognize the image of God in every person.