Shawshank redemption character analysis

ANDY DUFRESNE CHARACTER ANALYSIS: LIFE IS A JOURNEY

As far back in his life as the time before the Shawshank, ANDY DUFRESNE was endowed with a wide array of what could be appreciated as social markers of a successful man. An enviable education, a high office in a bank, an expensive car, his household, and a beautiful woman next to his brand-new tailored suits. Relatedly, the baseline state of the character could be regarded as a litmus paper to a lesser extent than a journey that Andy was fated to break through from the opening credits to the metaphorical epilogue. The preface scenes in a courtroom treat Andy Dufresne as a double homicide convicted murderer, who would face the consequences employing life imprisonment. At this induction sequence, the onlooker is left with only a sixth-sense doubt, and the rigid verdict sits well with the given context. It would not be until two hours later that the characteristic given by the judge to be re-interpreted with alternate signification.

You strike me as a particularly icy 

and remorseless man, Mr. Dufresne. 

It chills my blood just to look at you.

While reading the authentic narrative by Stephen King in search of means to simplify the Shawshank Redemption character analysis, it was Andy’s cool presence of mind, if not to say his indifference to the goings-on, that entitled the verdict with credence. It may seem that the outer world tags Dufresne with labels, showing no real interest in who he is: ‘the wife-killin’ banker’ (Red), ‘the smart banker who shot his wife’ (Hadley), ‘some hotshot banker’ (Blatch). The only thing is that back in 1947, Andy’s personality had not much beyond the image of a smart banker.

People say you’re a cold fish. They 

say you think your shit smells 

sweeter than ordinary.

His first night in the joint, Andy 

Dufresne cost me two packs of

cigarettes. He never made a sound…

That sort of story element, as ‘fishing’, insignificant at first sight, has proven itself to be another litmus test paper in a way of designating the nature of the ‘fish’ newcomers. Having none of the records in their possession, a bunch of convicted criminals take advantage of the behavior and the reaction of new inmates to a new world outside. Scratching beneath the surface, Andy Dufresne spent his first night in the joint ‘never making a sound’ not because he had control over the situation, an escape plan, or because he was tougher than the others. His sin lies in indifference, coolness to the outer world and people, standoffishness, and disregard for reality.

I didn’t pull the trigger. But I 

drove her away. That’s why she

died. Because of me, the way I am.

It would take Andy years from that first night in jail to progress his self-analysis beyond the cliché-like ‘being in the wrong place at the wrong time’. At the very edge of a breakdown and possible death, the character finally admits his guilt in the death of his wife, not on the physical level of taking the revolver,  but on a rather emotional level. Going back to 1947 and the ‘fishing’ that night, Andy could be regarded (emotionally on scale) with no more than a ‘cold fish’ label. Outside the walls of Shawshank, Dufresne was indeed the very hotshot smart banker, in the worst stereotypical sense, who had loved his wife but never had the guts to express this feeling as a human being.

It may seem that Andy’s encounter with RED had always been no more than a parameter while surviving the sentence within a maximum-security prison. Originally, it was pretty so, yet Andy’s will to transform himself and the lives of the others around him would later become a guarantee of survival. In the well-known scene on the roof, a footstep away from death, Dufresne leaves his standoffishness behind to take advantage of the situation, even to assist Hadley. Emotions of fear and simple joy for the other inmates with a bottle of beer in their hands: all this compels Andy to feel himself a human again. On this occasion, Red’s words should be regarded explicitly to Andy Dufresne rather than to an abstract inmate. Red and the others feel ‘normal’ while drinking a cold beer on the roof. For Andy, this starts with an ability to be thankful for the small mercies of life. 

He had all the proper I.D. Driver’s

license, birth certificate, social

security card. The signature was a

spot-on match.

These characteristics of the fictional Peter Stevens, upon closer view, speak volumes about Andy himself. In the course of every nineteen years in jail, he would invest all his free time in transforming himself, creating a 2.0. version, a new person beyond the made-up papers, is, more importantly, within one’s thoughts. A man who offers a knee to a warden and guards while facing the unpleasant tax routine. A person who becomes a real friend to Red and an intimate circle of the inmates. Andy transforms himself into a man who would pay a week in a disciplinary cell for a chance to share the music with the others. A man who gives his best to an elderly librarian (Brooks) and is later taken to the site with an ambition to turn it into a place of rehabilitation. A person who became a patron for a young felon, Tommy. In the years before 1947, Andy had lived through the world with total indifference to it, the way he never existed at all, until the moment when life washed him down with a series of challenges and alternatives to make the world a better place.

It’s down there, and 

I’m in here. I guess it comes down

to a simple choice, really. Get

busy living or get busy dying.

On the back of the first months in prison, Andy had a choice to lead the wretched existence of a social cadaver. In contrast to that doomed perspective, he made up his mind to take a proactive approach and an active role in his own life and the fate of the others around him. On the threshold of life in a fog, Dufresne brings life into his hobbies. While indeed ditching a prison wall at night, Andy vividly evokes the gone passion for geology and stone carving. Taking on rhetorical questions, when was Andy Dufresne the last time he played chess with someone, and it’s twice a matter of curiosity that the former hotshot banker finds a chess partner in a convicted felon. Dufresne deepens himself into reading and reshapes his hobby into a vision of a library, devoted to Brooks. Andy luxuriates with music and replays the inspiring motives in one’s head.

Andy loved geology. I imagine it 

appealed to his meticulous nature. 

Geology is the study of pressure

and time. That’s all it takes,

really. Pressure and time.

In prison, a man will do 

most anything to keep his mind 

occupied.

It turns out Andy’s favorite hobby 

was totin’ his wall out into the 

exercise yard a handful at a time…

The metaphor of everlasting processes indeed correlates with the image of Andy Dufresne. He has no chance to transform his life in the snap of a finger, the same way the earth’s formations may not be rocked before long. This notwithstanding, Andy has the juice to put effort and patience into it for years to come, reshaping himself and the outside world. In a wider sense, ditching a hole in the wall for nineteen years in a row fits perfectly in this metaphor for life: a marathon rather than a sprint. LIFE IS A JOURNEY. In some way, the combination of perseverance and active actions sets Andy apart from the majority of the Shawshank inmates, who conventionally live a day-to-day existence and leave behind anything that takes time and effort to put into. Andy expands energy from day to day over the years and even decades. 

Andy crawled to freedom through 

five hundred yards of shit-smelling 

foulness I can’t even imagine. Or

maybe I just don’t want to.

Last but not least, the metaphor of the image of Andy Dufresne put through the very ‘distance’, the way that he had to make it through. It had always been something more than just five hundred yards of sewers—a price that many Shawshank inmates would have paid for freedom. This distance through excrement had been preceded by nineteen subsequent years of shoveling the tunnel. What is more, every effort and humiliation, nineteen years of self-cultivation—all these made the light at the end of the tunnel possible. 

ELLIS BOYD ‘RED’ REDDING CHARACTER: LIVING IN THE PRESENCE

Upon a closer view, the character of Ellis Boyd Redding should be regarded as the protagonist of the story, at least equal to Andy Dufresne. Apart from some obvious bookish patterns of ‘one of the main characters in a story’ or ‘an active participant in the event’, RED, just as much as ANDY, has the most urgent dramatic want. Conversely, these late characteristics of a protagonist are conventionally beyond the general guess. Red makes the most of his unchallenged (indeed, he has competitors) authority among the inmates and luxuriates with his profitableness and status within the complex prison hierarchy. In Shawshank, he is the man who can get you almost anything you want; a sovran, who accepts bets and runs an invisible book, makes 20% on every settlement; and Red is the one with no shortage of cigarettes. It may look like he expresses a frigid tolerance toward the late denial of early release and makes his way through the prison courtyard as a king of this place. As early as forty years of imprisonment, Redding would call himself an ‘institutional man’, yet man’s sense of himself had always been his ‘urgent dramatic want’. 

Yes, sir. Absolutely. I’ve learned

my lesson. I can honestly say I’m a

changed man. 

 

Same old, same old. Thirty years. 

Jesus. When you say it like that…

 

But I can’t. That kid’s long 

gone, this old man is all that’s 

left, and I have to live with that.

Throughout the unnumbered attempts offscreen, Red runs himself through the commission on early release. The viewers are left with the surfacing fading of his enthusiasm after 20, 30, and finally 40 years of imprisonment. His submissive tone of speech and the eyes of a guilty schoolboy for the first time, a brush-up of studied phrases on the second occasion, and a complete shift of attitude within the final interview. Red made no use of the first 20 years of his jail term while waiting for the system to change, and a bit of luck would light his way of living without a will to take one’s life. As the story goes on, Red feels sorry, just like every day of his prison time. RED, as well as the generality in Shawshank, regards a prison sentence as something temporary that should be endured to see a better life on the other bank of the river of time. Redding had waited for a fair wind, yet without wings. 

Jesus, Andy. I couldn’t hack it on

the outside. Been in here too long.

 I’m an institutional man now. 

In here I’m the guy who

can get it for you. Out there, all

you need are Yellow Pages. I

wouldn’t know where to begin. 

Ironically, Red would have to become an ‘institutional man’ to gain his freedom. This is not about a particular age and silver hair: a conventional marker—that ‘the system’ deprived the convicted murderer of most of his life. The actual point is that it took Redding decades to start to live his life in prison without putting small mercies away for later. By his own account, the inmate must get himself busy with something—running contraband cargo, for example. In wider social means, the jailbirds used to not live life to the fullest, ignoring the abilities they still had in their possession. The elderly Brooks appreciated the Shawshank as his only home and the library as a purpose of life, all while suffering from his legs. Brooks had never asked for a better life, did not pity himself, and used to weigh the book trolley daily to cover the floors of the prison. It was his routine, his way of life within the walls of Shawshank. Just upon the release, Brooks was deprived of something more than fifty years of health; the very purpose of life was now taken from him.

I have to remind 

myself that some birds aren’t meant 

to be caged, that’s all. Their 

feathers are just too bright…

…and when they fly away, the part 

of you, that knows it was a sin to 

lock them up does rejoice…but still, 

the place you live is that much more 

drab and empty that they’re gone.

I guess I just miss my friend.

Namely, an encounter with Andy Dufresne (after the 20th anniversary in jail) is the trigger point for RED to live life to its fullest, to shape himself, and not to put one’s life on the shelf. His initial mission in Shawshank was to perform as a person who gets everything for a 20% revenue. After twenty years in jail, a friendship with Andy has now become his routine, his life indeed, and the purpose of all goings. The two play chess, renew the roof, do mutual (with Andy’s prerogative) business with the taxes for the warden and guards, build up a library, take Tommy under patronage, share meals, and read letters from Brooks. Thanks to Andy, Red finally takes advantage of a mouth harmonica, although he had a thousand possibilities to do this years before. Red feels dependent on the walls of Shawshank, not due to some sophisticated design of the system, but because the walls of this prison are now appreciated as his home, his life, and his routine.