Tuesday, July 10, 2012

I was crying even before the movie started

I was crying even before the movie started.

It was one of those shorts Pixar always shows before a movie. This one was about a boy, torn between his two grandfather-figure role models, symbolized by the way the boy wore his hat and the broom he used to sweep the stars off the moon. It was a short about finding your own person. My tears fell alongside the boy as he fell among the stars at the end.

In short, I was feeling emotional that day.

I'm not the kind of person who cries during a movie. Sure, I teared up after seeing the revolt scene in The Hunger Games, but I recognized it was the result of clever movie directors cruelly manipulating my emotions with sad music and heart-wrenching visuals. It wasn't genuine. Something had shifted before I watched Brave though. I had planned to go with friends, but those friends were late and never found me in the dark theater. I ended up sitting alone with two empty seats on either side of me. Maybe it was the physical isolation that made me feel comfortable enough to start crying, but truth is, it was the mother-daughter relationship depicted in Brave that did me in. 

The loneliness of living on my own and barely knowing anyone in Los Angeles filled me with an emotional isolation that made me homesick for the very first time in my life. The moment Merida realizes that her mom is the only one who was always there for her was the moment I broke down and bawled my eyes out. It made me think about how badly I missed my own mom. 

I had to leave my 3D glasses on just so I could make it to the bathroom without anyone seeing how puffy my eyes were and finish crying in peace, hidden in the privacy of a bathroom stall inside the El Capitan movie theater. I surprised even myself with my big gulping tears that started again just when I thought I had things under control. Right after, I met up with my friends looking like a high raccoon: all red eyes and smeared mascara.

Pixar knows just how to manipulate my emotions.
This is a pretty accurate portrayal of what happens when my mom starts warning me about drugs and alcohol.

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