The Lobster

In the 2015 dystopian film The Lobster by the fabulously dark, surrealist director Yorgos Lanthimos “unmarrieds” (single adults) are forced to find and enter into a binding romantic relationship in the unrealistically short timeline of forty-five days. If the unmarrieds are unable to do this they will, at the end of the given time period, be transformed into the animal of their choice. They will remain as this animal until death, never taking human form again.

Every year in this unnamed country, the powers that be round up all the single adults and place them in a sort of spa/jail where they are meant to find and then marry their partner. The guests/inmates wander around aimlessly, searching for “the one” as the clock ticks down their days. I loved this film and to this day I stubbornly insist that it is the best performance I have ever seen the actor Colin Farrell give us. He plays a middle-aged man who has “let himself go.” He gained forty-five pounds for the role. He did this in a short amount of time by being sedentary, eating “nasty garbage” for two months and by drinking quarts of melted ice cream. His performance is astounding; that being said it is a very disturbing movie, definitely not for the faint of heart. The couple we  saw it with wanted to leave after twenty minutes but I insisted we should stay. To this day they have not forgiven me. And (according to them) they never will. 

But all that aside it is still one of my favorite movies. A film so perverse and twisted (and funny) that the story still clings to my subconscious a decade after having watched it. Of course most characters in the film (if they are unable to meet someone and become a couple at the end of the time allotted them) would like to be turned into a well-loved dog or cat so that they can co-exist in joy and affection with their host family until they pass. But not David. David (Colin Farrell’s character), quite sure that he will never find a partner in a mere forty-five days, wants to be turned into a lobster.

Of course this is absurd. Who wants to be a lobster when you could be a big chocolate Labrador lazing by the fire while all the adoring humans in your life give you pats and treats as you wile away your days in a contented sort of dog-bliss? I can't remember why David so wanted to be a lobster but recently I watched a short clip of the rabbi Abraham Twerski (a revered Torah scholar and psychiatrist) giving a short teaching on none other than the wisdom of the lobster and how as human beings we can learn a lesson from this interesting and (unfortunately for them) delicious invertebrate. 

“How do lobsters grow?” he asks us. “The lobster is a soft and mushy animal that lives inside of a rigid shell. This shell does not expand. As the lobster grows its shell becomes very confining. The lobster feels itself under pressure. It gets increasingly uncomfortable. So it goes under a rock formation to protect itself from predators, casts off its old shell, and produces a new one! Eventually that new shell becomes very uncomfortable as the lobster continues to grow. So, back under the rocks it goes. The lobster repeats this same action numerous times. The stimulus for the lobster to grow is that it feels uncomfortable. 

“Now, if lobsters had doctors they would never grow. Because as soon as a lobster felt the slightest bit of discomfort he’d go to his doctor and the doctor would give him a Valium, or a Percocet, and the lobster would feel fine and then never cast off his old shell. What we need to realize is that times of stress are also times that are signaling growth. And if we learn how to use adversity properly we can grow through adversity.” 

I love this idea of going into a safe quiet space while we are “growing.” While in periods of vulnerability, physical or psychic. I don't necessarily hide under a rock formation or in a thick bed of kelp in times of increased life stress but that’s what I do internally. When I’m under pressure I get quiet and still - inside and out - and try not to make any hasty decisions. I also like the concept of sitting with discomfort. Not running from it. The lobster can't run from his discomfort; he has to live in it for a while before he makes his next move. While his new shell is hardening the lobster stays in a safe hidden place until that new shell is hard enough to protect it. This can take several weeks. Sometimes the lobster will even eat its old shell (which is loaded with calcium and good for shell development) while its new shell is forming. So even that too-tight shell of discomfort has its uses. A reason for being. Nutritional value. 

I’m slowly getting used to using adversity to my advantage. But did David even know about the wisdom of the lobster when he chose to spend the rest of his life as one? I could not remember why David had chosen the lobster in the first place so I went back to the movie.

“Because,” David tells his case manager (who is as confused about his choice as we are) “lobsters can live for over 100 years, they’re blue-blooded like aristocrats, and they stay fertile all their lives. I also like the sea very much.”

I see David’s point. I also “like the sea very much” but I would add (to the reasons why being a lobster might be nice) that the wisdom and patience of the lobster might be good qualities to nurture.