Sinatra's Grief: The Dark Side of a Mother's Love in Paradise

Contains spoilers from episodes 1-6 of Paradise.

Although Paradise might not be the top television show of the year, its outrageousness has proven to be an ideal counterbalance to the unusually somber winter experienced this year in the UK.

Would living in an underground smart city really be that bad if it meant sunshine on tap?

From the very beginning, when I uncovered President Cal Bradford’s corpse hidden within the mountain, it became evident that life here was nothing like the picturesque ideal one might imagine, even with the tantalizingly tasty artificial cheese fries on offer.

Although its people have already lived through an apocalyptic event, it appears they are on the brink of experiencing another catastrophe, disguised under a new form after Xavier started Operation Takedown Sinatra.

But her world fell apart long before then.

Previously, Samantha Redmond, or as she once was called, lived contentedly. She was a thriving tech innovator who managed to fetch a large sum by selling her venture, and subsequent years brought her a thrilling merger deal.

Initially, what brought her immense happiness was her family, particularly her two little ones. However, this bliss was shattered when her oldest child, Dylan, got sick. Despite obtaining top-notch medical attention for him, he passed away, leaving an unfillable void in her heart.

When the chance came for Sinatra to lead the undercity project, she poured all her sorrow into it. It became like a newborn child for her in the aftermath of losing her own, serving not just as a diversion but as an opportunity to accomplish what she felt she couldn’t with Dylan: ensuring the survival of its inhabitants.

And this time, she would not fail.

However, her leadership position within the underground society soon transformed into a more autocratic style.

In time, her control grew stronger than the president’s role, making her the undeniable star of the spectacle. Anyone who defied her, including Agent Billy Pace, faced a tragic demise – yet remarkably, Sinatra maintains she didn’t play a part in Cal’s passing, and we find ourselves agreeing with this version of events.

Her therapist, Dr. Gabriela Torabi, tells Xavier that she isn’t some monster, but a mother instead. This remark mirrors Wanda Maximoff’s statement in Marvel’s Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness. She is, like Sinatra, a woman grieving deeply and with good intentions, yet she misuses her power – leading to disastrous outcomes.

In the realm of cinema, I’ve seldom encountered a movie that so profoundly resonates with my own experiences as “Sinatra’s Song.” Under Dr. Torabi’s gentle and insightful guidance, our protagonist embarked on a journey back to the world and her work. Much like Sinatra navigated her all-consuming, heartrending sorrow, she sought to mend her broken pieces, leaving behind imperfections that, in their uniqueness, were reminiscent of a beautifully restored kintsugi vase. This film serves as a poignant reminder of the healing power of human connection and resilience in the face of adversity.

However, as we delve deeper into understanding her covert actions – notably her insistence on maintaining complete dominion and her strict intolerance towards critics – it becomes increasingly evident that Sinatra’s emotional distress has evolved into a potent threat.

At first, her motives appeared altruistic, even though others might question whether allowing the world to collapse is in any way commendable. Despite failing to save her own son, she was determined not to let harm come to the 25,000 individuals now under her care. However, endorsing murder and stripping away democratic freedoms has made her a character we may find ourselves at odds with.

In my perspective as a movie critic, this film presents an intriguing twist on the trope of a woman’s grief over the loss of her child pushing her to the brink of insanity. Instead of a straightforward plunge into madness, the protagonist navigates complex emotions, and her reactions, while extreme, are not entirely irrational given the profound sorrow she carries. However, this emotional turmoil does place her in precarious situations where she becomes potentially dangerous to those around her.

It is undoubtedly Sinatra’s underground city, and everyone’s just living in it.

However, with Xavier’s recent actions causing instability, the once impenetrable shield around her starts to crack, revealing the underlying feelings she had been keeping hidden.

In some moments, I can almost catch a glimpse of her true self, like a fleeting shadow, as if the mask she wears slips just a tad. This happens, for instance, when the city’s elite are huddled together in a room, pressing for answers, and she exits, her breaths coming heavily.

In such situations, her long-suppressed pain unexpectedly rises to the forefront.

But Sinatra’s behaviour is most striking when you compare it to Xavier’s.

He also suffered a significant loss, just like everyone else. Despite vowing to keep Teri safe and get her to the underground shelter with the others, Cal failed to uphold his promise. As far as Xavier knew, his beloved wife Teri, the mother of their children, perished in horrifying, gruesome circumstances, along with the rest of humanity – but this might not be true if Sinatra’s account is accurate (with a strong emphasis on the ‘if’).

As a cinephile, I must confess, even before that fateful moment, when it seemed like she was gone for good, Xavier maintained an unflappable composure. What stood out the most was his ironclad moral compass; it never wavered.

Xavier didn’t exploit his intimate connection with the president for personal advantage, nor did he use his sorrow to validate unacceptable behavior. After his own tragedy, Xavier remained sane and composed, a testament that he wasn’t driven by madness or instability, as indicated in Sinatra’s case, where an excessive need for control hinted at inner turmoil.

However, Sinatra represents another case where a woman’s grief, deeply linked with her insatiable thirst for unchecked authority, can instill fear. This perception perpetuates the stereotype that women may struggle to cope with their suffering in a healthy manner, potentially posing a risk not only to themselves but also to others.

As a movie buff putting this into my own words, I’d say: Indeed, the absence of my child will forever leave an unfillable gap in my life. The pain of losing him is something that never truly fades, and each day brings with it reminders of his presence – days, weeks, months, years – since I last held him before bidding him a heart-wrenching farewell.

However, portraying her as a psychopath or a watered-down version due to her loss does an injustice to Sinatra, and it perpetuates harmful misconceptions about women’s emotions. These emotions, if left unchecked, are often depicted as having the potential to escalate uncontrollably.

We’ve encountered this issue previously, and I have no hesitation in saying it will resurface; however, it’s high time we laid this old, persistent prejudice to rest, perhaps even burying it far beneath the earth.

2025-02-20 17:36

Sinatra’s Grief: The Dark Side of a Mother’s Love in Paradise

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