Shawshank Redemption is an exceptional movie, with plenty of endearing moments. One such scene is the silent, picturesque shores of Zihuatanejo (surprisingly memorable for a place with no memory) as the audience gets closure that Red does indeed meet his old friend. Who can forget Brooks' letter, his tale of institutionalization and of punishment rather than rehabilitation. Par for the course, I have to mention the carthartic rain scene that is thematic to the entire movie.

Out of all the great moments, my favourite scene in Shawshank Redemption is when Andy plays Sull'aria through the intercom for his fellow inmates. This scene was impressionable because it touched on something I have recently been mulling over: my modus operandi. So far, my decision making has been largely been based on "utility", or as a short-cut, convenience. This was the result of post-modern attitudes toward morality; I had deconstructed morality, but never bothered to rebuild my sense of right and wrong.

I've recently encountered a quote (unfortunately I do not remember and cannot find the source) which perfectly encapsulates my enthusiasm for the scene:

A man when wrong apologizes, when right endures the consequences.

Outside the context of Shawshank Redemption, the "right" here could be interpreted as "correct", like Galelio and his Heliocentric model. However, I interpret the right as a moral right. The quote (and Andy) reminds us that some acts are worth performing, even in the face of the consequences. In the movie, Andy was placed in solitary for a week; this stunt would have never passed my utilitarian calculations. However, it was the right thing to do, as Red reflects,

To this day, I have no idea what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don’t want to know. Some things are left best unsaid. I would like to think they were singing about something was so beautiful it can’t be expressed in words and make your heart ache because of it. I tell you those voices soared higher and farther than anybody in a Gray place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made these walls dissolve away. For the briefest moment every last man in Shawshank felt free.

Then again, what is more right than showing these hope deprived men that there is more to life than these thick concrete walls, to the extent that the sick raise from their beds; that there is beauty in the world, and that in their minds, they are free.