I’m bad at movies. I love fantasy adventures, superhero flicks, movies based off books (though that can get unpleasant very quickly), and other large-scale blockbusters. I’m far less for the critically acclaimed dramatic pieces that are often bleak, overly serious, and just generally out of my idea of what movie-watching should be about–sitting back, relaxing, and tuning out of life for awhile. TV shows are for engaging with, discussing and analyzing and obsessing over. But movies…movies are a comfort. In fact, if I watch a movie on the small screen, there’s a 99% chance it’s only on because I needed some serious detox with minimal emotional entanglement. That’s not to say, of course, that my favorite movies don’t tug the heartstrings or affect me very deeply. It’s just a different kind of attachment.
I’m seeking one of two types of comfort when I tune into a movie; I either want a fun, romantic comedy type romp that’s just stupid enough to wind down and do nothing but be heartwarmingly entertained, or something beautifully crafted that will make me bawl my eyes out at the end. It’s a catharsis that’s just necessary sometimes!
Do I even have to say anything about Moulin Rouge? Ewan McGregor is perfect, the songs are incredibly done, the film is vibrant and meaningful and dazzling, and that ache at the end leaves me feeling melancholy in such a good way.
It must be the rhythmic lull of James Franco’s voice coupled with the glorious
piece of poetry that is Howl. This is my go-to for the times when I’m most likely
not watching the screen carefully…or at all.
I’ve written about Big Fish before, because it is lovely and filled with sadness and lessons and such a finely crafted story overall. Big Fish makes me cry like a baby, but it’s so wonderfully done that every tear is worth it.
Get Over It