The Tunnel was a “must watch” for me over the last 10 weeks. Sometimes I wondered where it was heading. I probably didn’t understand the deep significance of the Truths the Truth Terrorist tried to expose. But, it was good and captured me through the 10 episodes.
I missed some of the dialogue in the last episode. So, I had to go back and watch it again. But what really captured me was the last 10-15 minutes of the whole plot. You should watch it.
So many questions! Is life meaningless? If you want your enemy to shoot you dead, to have your final victory!
Or, is it over brimming with “meaning and purpose” if you’re prepared to lay down your life for your son! Or, to stand between the bullets of trained police snipers and your colleague!
From those last 10-15 minutes there is love for a child, and love for a colleague, which can demand the sacrifice of one’s own life. Where does that love come from?
Karl, Elise and the Truth Terrorist play out a compelling scene about the ultimate value of “life” and “death”. I think this leads to ultimate questions. “What is life for?” And, “What does it lead to?”
If there is something beyond the “material”, perhaps journalists, despite their pre-suppositions, are bound to explore it. In their reporting on troubling events should they raise the “meaninglessness” for the people involved? Should they also raise the “meaning and purpose” that could exist for them beyond the event?
Right at the end, Karl shows compassion for the Truth Terrorist, Kieran, his once good friend. Notice the shift from the”object” to the “person”. “After the (Kieran’s) trial, I’m going to find some decent journalist and tell about the case Kieran couldn’t investigate. How he lost his identity! How he lost his sanity! Everything!”
I wonder how much this small scene resonated with journalists who are jealous of their ethical reputations. Karl finally says, “I just don’t want the Press to turn this into a kind of “sexual jealousy” story.”
Elise responds, “It never was!”
Thanks to The ABC for some great viewing.
