Good Tears

OK, I am an emotional sap, and the IMD and the funeral I recently attended and the loneliness I’m feeling this season are all acting like external hormones, giving me my own version of PMS. You’d think with all the crying I’ve done this year, I wouldn’t seek out something I know would make me blubber like a babe. But I did.

Don't let the smiles fool you...

An email I got very early this morning mentioned a showing of The Iron Giant in NYC. I saw the movie when it first came out, bawled at the end, and thought it was a great film – if not really an animated movie that’s good for the kiddies. I mean, the tears are actually kinda happy tears, but there is some heavy shit along the way. I don’t think my nephew and his wife were too appreciative when I gave it as a gift to their fairly young kids a few years back.

I don’t want to give too much away, in case you are motivated to see it. But on this morning, at 6:45, I streamed my first Netflix movie, laughed through the many very funny parts, dug the historical setting (1957, right after the launch of Sputnik), and felt the first tears coming, oh, about 40 minutes on. But that was just the appetizer. The full-on feast of tears comes at the end, after this tale of friendship and sacrifice has fully run its course. The movie, I believe (and I’m sure others have written about) is actually a great Christian allegory. Now, I am not prone to praising many things Christian here at C?WC?, but I make an exception in this case. Anyway, as the credits rolled, less than 90 minutes since the flick started, the faucets were flowing. And it felt good. Yes, I needed a good cry, good defined as one coming from something external that was uplifting, as opposed to springing from all the pain and loneliness of the New Crisis.

I think I have a new annual Christmastime double feature: The Ref for some great black humor, and  The Iron Giant for some cleansing tears. I might even have to watch it again tomorrow.

Merry Christmas.


~ by mburgan on December 24, 2010.

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