The film is surprisingly spiritual, in fact, not simply an excuse for mayhem but a tale with genuine
ideas about our place in the universe, our reliance upon others for our own karmic enlightenment, and how death is inherently even more ridiculous than life, no matter how grizly the end.
Oh, the Calvinists could make perfect sense of it all with a wave of a hand and a swift, confident explanation
about how Zarmina had been born
in sin and likely predestined to spend eternity
in hell to the glory of an angry God (they called her a «vessel of destruction»);
about how I should just be thankful to be spared the same fate since it's what I deserve anyway;
about how the Asian tsunami was just another one of God's temper tantrums sent to remind us all of His rage at our sin;
about how I need not worry because «there is not one maverick molecule
in the
universe» so every hurricane, every earthquake, every war, every execution, every transaction
in the slave trade, every rape of a child is part of God's sovereign plan, even God's
idea;
about how my objections to this paradigm represented unrepentant pride and a capitulation to humanism that
placed too much inherent value on my fellow human beings;
about how my intuitive sense of love and morality and right and wrong is so corrupted by my sin nature I can not trust it.