When the Red Balloon Burst...

A semi-silent film... but it speaks volumes

I am not a movie enthusiast, but I read about a short French film released in 1956, titled 'The Red Balloon,' and it is said to be a symbolic and philosophical work.

The title intrigued me, and the philosophy said to be hidden inside provoked my curiosity, so I wondered:

And what philosophy could a red balloon possibly hold?

So I sat down to watch it; to find out how a balloon could carry more ideas than air.

I found a film whose language is images rather than words, and whose dialogue is measured movement. It features the beauty of old neighborhoods, ancient alleys, and the simplicity of daily life; then a school with locked doors, and a small room where dreamers are punished.

At the heart of these images, a little boy carries a red balloon that accompanies him everywhere. When he enters school, he leaves it outside the door, and when he comes out, he finds it waiting for him. When it rains, he protects it under the umbrellas of passersby; as if the balloon is the child, and he is responsible for it.

When our little one rides the bus, he leaves it outside, but it does not leave him; it follows the bus until he arrives, then he reaches out his hand to it, and his companion returns again.

One day, the child was locked in the punishment room because his balloon distracted him from school. But it did not distract only him; it stirred the curiosity of the boys around him; they watched it, then chased it, then wanted to catch it. As if some people are not satisfied with just seeing what makes you happy; they must lay their hands on it.

The child picked up his balloon and started fleeing with it to protect it, until a dart hit it, and it burst, falling shriveled to the ground, in a battle where everyone allied against a child carrying a balloon.

I did not see in the story a child, a balloon, and enemies of it, but rather a dream carried by its owner, and curious people preoccupied with the dreams of others; they watch them with hostility, and pursue them like shadows that follow every outstanding person.

These curious ones are not always strangers; they may be peers who share your life stages: at school, in the neighborhood, at play, and then at work. They have a long patience in occupying you with trivialities, placing obstacles in your path, and looking at your ideas through the eyes of their intentions, until curiosity turns into organized malice.

In the story, they only destroyed the red balloon through pursuit and encirclement, and with a simple weapon that was nothing more than a dart.

Destroying the dreams of others is not a difficult task; sometimes persistence and cooperation among like-minded people are enough.

But even if they kill your dream, be certain that another dream will come to you.

Dreams in their beginnings are fragile, and therefore need care more than they need announcement; because talking about them may expose them to eyes before they are strong enough to face them.

The horizon does not narrow; rather, it is eyes that narrow, seeing only one dream.

It has been said in tradition:

'Help achieve your needs by keeping them secret; for every blessed person is envied.'

Every person has had a balloon burst in their life: a project, a job, a relationship, or a goal. However, the fall of one dream has never been the end of life; perhaps that dream was not good for you, and maybe its shiny color deceived you, then compensation came in another form: experience you gain, a lesson that redraws the map, an understanding that teaches you how to adjust the compass, or a decision not to limit your entire life to one dream.

Our little one could not imagine, as he bid farewell to his burst balloon, that balloons would come to him from houses, streets, and buildings; in their bright colors and different sizes, and then carry him to the sky.

I noticed at the end of the film that the new balloons were not like the red balloon; long ropes dangled from them that the child could grasp, whereas his first balloon had a short rope, and it would elude him; approaching sometimes, and moving away at other times, so he could hardly hold it. As if their relationship was ebb and flow.

As for the new balloons, he grasped all their ropes, and they soared with him into the sky to see the entire city. They carried him away from the narrow streets where he used to run, from the closed doors he often stood before, and from the bus where he jostled with passengers searching for a foothold.

From above, he saw the city from an angle he could not have seen while captive to the ground.

At the end of the story, his pursuers remained on the ground, while the child rose; they burst one balloon, and life showered him with balloons he could not have dreamed of, carrying him to a sky they could not close.

Finally... those who were fiercely fought against rose with beautiful compensation and dreams they never imagined, while those who fought them remained prisoners of their grudges; they see only with the eye of envy, and know only how to watch others, cooperate in disturbing their peace, and plan to destroy what others build.

Thus evil takes over some hearts, until destroying dreams becomes a project, while building them remains a mission.

Even if they kill your dream... another will come.