So I was having dinner with one Mark Burleson a few nights ago, and he mentioned that my blog was looking rather stale. He didn't use those words, but the word "stale" was what came to mind when I glanced at my own site.
October? Geez.
I have blogged on another site, Atypical Spirituality, so most of my thoughts during the past part of the semester have wound up there, either in post or comment form.
So shortly after Mark pointed out the underwhelming absence of fresh material, I attended a holiday movie marathon put on by a couple of other friends of mine. If you know me, you know I'm not a movie person. I don't think that movies promote social interaction; if I want to see people, I'll make plans to hang out with them instead of watching pictures flit across a screen while they happen to be sitting next to me. I can watch a movie just as well by myself as I can with a myriad of friends; generally speaking, there are better ways to get to know said friends than a movie.
I also have to deal with movies in a different sense; again, if you know me, you know that I'm not an overwhelmingly emotional person. But for some reason, movies can break into that side of my psyche like nothing else. I get sympathy pains when I see a person get injured on the screen. The struggles of the characters, be they emotional or physical, take on a life of their own; and so, their journey of toil and travail becomes my journey of empathy.
Example: Early this year, I saw The Prestige with a girl I was dating. It had been a fabulous night; we both were excited about the film. However, when it was over, my world had been rocked; the amount of personal pain that the characters had gone through had put me through hell as well. She wanted to discuss the movie, to engage it; I just wanted to crawl into a corner and brood.
That movie hurt.
And many that I watch do, in different ways. This is also part of why I don't watch movies that often; I don't enjoy being tweaked in ways I don't understand.
There's another side to this coin, too; I have movies that I love. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. The Truman Show. The LotR films. Tombstone. Gladiator. It's a Wonderful Life. And, of course, the Firefly episodes. Some of these movies don't hit me as hard as others; others put me into a positive emotional state. Few things grab my heart like seeing Aragorn and Arwen finally together or George Bailey on a snow-covered bridge, crying out: "I want to live again... Please let me live again."
I've heard it said that guys watch movies because of what they are shown; girls watch them because of how the movies make them feel. I understand that this is a vast, sweeping generalization; it just makes me wonder.
Before the previously mentioned movie marathon, I didn't really understand the heart-warming aspect of films. However, watching three in a row produced such a tidal wave of warm fuzzies that I had to sit and deal with them. Is this why a movie becomes a classic? Maybe; maybe not. I don't claim to know why such things happen, and I don't want to try and figure it out.
I'm not sure that after this experience I'll make movies more a part of my life; however, I think I am now able to appreciate such films a little bit more.
