Thrones

Another amazingly gorgeous sunny day in the Pacific NW.
I will, of course, be at my day job. I have to laugh. Well, I'll have a walk during my lunch, and sometimes I have to do stuff outside, so it won't be a total wash.

About leadership as depicted in fiction and film:

Rewatching The Hobbit always does this to me. Why are revered leaders sitting on their asses on thrones? Good, evil, doesn't matter. What exactly made their flat butts worthy of sitting in such an exalted place?

Let's ask this another way. What do good leaders do?

I have a good leader at work. If it weren't for his snappy dialogue, the look in his eyes, and the big red vest, you wouldn't necessarily peg him for the leader if you came into the store in the middle of the day. He stocks shelves and helps customers same as the rest of us. A customer interrupted him as he was answering yet another call (probably from someone needing leadership advice–he fields such calls all day–or from his boss) and he stopped and helped them. Didn't just tell them what aisle something was on. Led them to the product, asked them if he could summon additional help for them as he was on his way to answering a call. Excellent customer service, just like he drills into our heads every day. Leading by example. Working by our sides. Relentless in his mission to make us the best store in the system, and demands more of himself than his employees. This, from someone who will retire in less than two years.

Contrast that to the great orc chieftain, sitting on his ass, barking out orders. Even his ride sits on its ass when the killing of a subordinate is required. I wasn't filled with a sense of dread. I thought, this dude makes his lackeys do all the dirty work, and criticizes them when they get it wrong without any investigation whatsoever. He's got nothing. He's not a badass, he's the kind of bad manager/war cow-er-leader who gets his people killed. Why are they even following him?

The goblin king was even worse. He was comical, pathetic, lazy, self-aggrandizing ... he must have oversnacked and overslept his way to the throne somehow, because he sure didn't get there through leadership or even prowess. He fell over without a fight when he faced his enemies. I couldn't wait to get through that scene because watching that bad guy made me groan in sympathetic embarrassment for whoever designed and executed that scene. If his people had been insubordinate, if there was danger to him and he was barely holding on through bravado, I would have bought it. But no, his minions cheered on their weak, useless leader without sneers or sarcasm, and without backstabbing attempts to take advantage of enemies in their midst to finally get rid of the idiot.

Watch Band of Brothers if you want to see creative non-fiction depict a real leader. Major Dick Winters was so famously good at being a leader that despite his long years of quiet retirement and his death early in 2011, he still inspires the people he led.

One thing  The Desolation of Smaug got very right is the sense of decay, frustration, and misery that comes with bad leadership. (Can't wait to watch that part again!) The kingdom of the wood elves still has splendor–there are those that still care, and passionately–but many are self-medicating, there's the ever-present threat of insubordination, and the leader, terrified of what he sees coming, is barely holding it together. He clings to his throne because it's the only thing he has left. Without that symbol, he's got nothing to keep his people together with anymore. That's drama. That's awesome. I'll watch that all day. That's real leadership, not at its best, but compelling and real and I even sympathized with the king who is slowly, painfully losing everything he holds dear and doesn't know how to save it. And, perhaps not surprisingly if you think about it, I feared the King of the Wood Elves because I could tell how desperate he is.

How much more powerful and dangerous would the orc leader seem if he led by example, praised his troops when they did well, rewarded success, gave them working strategies and tactics to succeed when they failed to succeed on their own, and swore to avenge them when they died? He could still kill his own people, but not for failing him, no, for failing their own brethren and getting them killed through bad strategy, cowardice, etc. What makes evil leaders evil is not their thoughtless savagery. Thoughtless savages don't become leaders. Thoughtless savages need leaders to accomplish anything of any real scope beyond serial killings. Evil leaders can ramp up a sense of rabid devotion like no one else, because they can reward with things that good people would rather die than allow to exist. And evil leaders don't have to feel bad when they employ scapegoats, tap into addictive tendencies, publicly give rewards to undeserving scum to give the star players a little more motivation to prove their worthiness, betray a good soldier to establish a better one for the good of the organization, throw weak and underperforming minions under the bus, etc.

Perhaps the most painful moment in The Hobbit though, from a leadership point of view, was the telling of Thorin's history with orcs. Seriously. Stand on the edge of a cliff and brood while someone sings your praises and tells of your sorrows? Gawd, every real leader I know would be shaking their head and either insisting that it's ancient history and we've got real problems to deal with now, or they'd walk away in embarrassment. They'd protest, don't build me up to the newbie, please. Or, that's not how it happened (because from their pov they were scared spitless and not heroic at all at the battle that cost just about everyone they know their lives. Can we say survivor's guilt? Can we say, thinking over and over about what he could have done instead so that just about everyone didn't have to die that day?)

So, please, writers, get your fictional leaders off their butts and into the action. Even the bad guys. Maybe especially them, so that they don't just fall over at the climax of your big confrontation scene. Thanks!

Sexy Tears

After four rainy days off, I go back to my day job ... on a spectacular sunny day. I think my work schedule is more accurate than the weather man as far as predicting sun and rain.

On to today's topic.

I rewatched Star Trek: Into Darkness, and I have some observations that I hope will be useful. Forgive my wee preamble, please: I actually like this movie a lot, and I'm sure I'll watch it many times. I don't want anyone getting the idea that I thought it was painfully bad and in dire need of shredding.

Uniformity of reaction:
One of the tougher things to do as a writer is to characterize. I mean seriously characterize, as in define and express character. To use a great example of characterization, every one of the Avengers has their own way about that. Part of that is great acting, but acting is restricted by dialogue, the situation, and correction–which means that some of the fault falls onto the shoulders of the writers and director. Into Darkness had characterization problems.
Writers are people (I know, I know, that's just crazy talk but let me finish) and have their own personal reactions to situations. They have verbal tics, like saying "this rocks!" when they like something (or "awesome" or whatever) and they may cry readily ... or stifle sobs rather than go into full cry mode whenever possible. Their own responses are what they know at gut level. The difficulty is to then write characters who react in imagined ways to imagined situations who are not only different from oneself, but different from each other, but still fall into what the writers and director classify as worthy of admiration. In Star Trek: Into Darkness, there's a monotone. Just about every major cast member sheds a sexy tear, including Khan. Khan? Really? Khan the Ice Rage Machine? This very specific, fairly rare, delicate emotion becomes so repetitive that it could be turned into a drinking game.
Characters need to react to emotional situations differently from each other, especially in film where it's all visual and the internal stuff is harder to define and differentiate between characters. In writing, the difference between characters should be crystal clear. Which means, if a writer wants to have any range to her or his cast of sympathetic, admirable characters, that writer has to imagine, before a word is written, how a hothead can express grief and passion in an admirable way, how a genius creative can express grief and passion in a different way, how a cunning, savage mastermind can express grief and passion ... you get the idea. And that's true for every emotion characters express.

The homage:
I was on board with the re-envisioning of the original Spock/Kirk death scene from Wrath of Khan, right up until Spock cried out Khan's name. The original Kirk, yes. New Spock, no. Spock could have gone animal (and I loved how the actor went into enraged gorilla mode on Khan's ass in the following fight scene) right there, total predator. He could have lost it in any number of ways. But the Kirk echo didn't work for me. Wrong character. Not the way Spock would have expressed rage ... with a word. Howl? Maybe. Or total silence, or a growl .... lots of choices. None of them taken. I'm not sure why. Because they went a different route with the New Kirk. I'm scared? Gorgeous. Beautiful. Human. Very unlike the composed and calm Old Spock in the same situation. So why not give New Spock the same option–to be Vulcan-ish, but in the way we don't see Vulcans very often because it's so rare for that primitive side of them to escape? And what is a primitive Vulcan? I propose it's the mindless gorilla with the looping fist strikes that will smash an enemy to unrecognizable pulp before it gets its mind back, and that sort of critter doesn't have words. Yes, yes, Spock is half-human, but that's not what makes him different from Kirk and the other characters. It's his Vulcan nature, a nature so volatile that as-a-race they have tied themselves up and caged themselves because they fear it so much. So, writers and directors of Star Trek–show us why they're scared of it. Maybe there's something even scarier, something truly alien in there that Spock would have revealed. Lost opportunity.

The take-away:
Working out who characters are is something writers like me, who don't outline, discover as we go along (and then sometimes we have to go back and make changes, which is annoying! but necessary.) During the formative period, characters may sound and act the same. Usually they sound and act like whatever idealized heroes we have in our heads. If the writer has been at the game a long time, they may have their go-to archetypes and have some variety in the beginning. Some writers rely on what they've seen and read, so they'll have a cast that strongly resembles, say, the Avengers, or the Fellowship, or Griffindors .... I think that's better than having characters that are all Dirty Harry, but still. Characters are the heart of great stories, and some attention ought to be paid to the important details. Those details aren't in hair and eye color, or shallow details like whether they're a clothes horse or like curry (unless they take it to radical extremes–then it becomes really important!) The details are in the devils, and angels, inside of them. Every scene that evokes powerful emotions in characters is an opportunity to express the uniqueness and beauty of living creatures when they're at their best, or their worst. I hope more writers take advantage of those opportunities, because I want to see what happens when they do.

Good Things

My DH and I watched Catching Fire the other day.

We seldom go to the movies, and when we do, usually one of us is disappointed. This time both of us walked out of the theater feeling like we could have watched another hour or more. It was that good. I enjoyed The Hunger Games very much. Catching Fire took an already great story to the next level. Outstanding, and highly recommended.

Speaking of highly recommended ....

I had to leave work early yesterday because it felt like someone was knifing me from inside my gut. I don't know if it was just a passing thing, or what happened. Various stomach products didn't even touch the pain. Eating made it worse.

Until I decided it was time for yogurt.

I don't know for sure if whatever was going on fixed itself or not, but as far as timing, the yogurt seemed to be the thing that ultimately fixed my tummy. I had yogurt (plain, Greek, mixed with a little marionberry jam–honey might have been better) when I got home, again in about an hour, and when I felt well enough to eat real food, I had yogurt on my baked potato.

I used yogurt instead of soy milk with my cereal this morning. Here's hoping my stomach is all better!

When something upsets your stomach and intestinal bugaboos, anything probiotic is worth a try. My go-to is yogurt, but if you can't stand the stuff, there are alternatives in the vitamin/herbal remedies section at pretty much any grocery store. It's worth a try. At the feed store, there's a goat version too for my goaties when their tummies are upset! Good stuff, good for you. In fact, we really can't do without our little gardens inside us. Treat them nice, and invite some new friends over for them when they're feeling down.

Floor Progress

The floor is patched. Finally! I've made progress toward the fireplace/hearth, at which point my fabulous retired contractor friend D. will help me figure out how to mate a rhino with a lobster.

This is where super-long movies like Om Shanti Om (highly recommended, btw, and don't let the whole beginning half fool you--it's an intense love story that even my jaded DH enjoys) and the Lord of the Rings trilogy really come in handy. I've seen them so many times I don't have to really watch them. Listening transports me. I do stop and watch favorite parts, like the Pain of Disco. (Seriously, you have to watch Om Shanti Om.) But other than that I can listen to the music and the dialogue and be there while still paying attention to important things like power tools.

I've gotten far enough now that I'm starting to get that feeling that I'm actually doing some good rather than just ripping the house apart chasing a dream. Oh, and the carpet? It's outside killing grass for me so that I can expand the garden space near the house. I have so much pasture grass (far harder to deal with than tame lawn grasses) that it overwhelms the large sections of garden I've managed to create from blackberry zones. Finally connecting the garden to the proximity of the house will do magical things to the way the garden appears overall. It'll also be easier to manage.

That carpet stinks to high heaven, and the rain has actually improved it by rinsing out the worst of it. I'm once again reminded why I loathe carpeting. Seriously, it's disgusting stuff. Unless you have the money to replace it fairly often, like every five years or so, it just becomes a haven for dirt, dust, dust mites, fleas, stains and general filth. No amount of steam cleaning will get that stuff out. I know. I kept up on the steam cleaning, and it was still vile underneath when we pulled it up. Ten years of grime percolating down through the pad, permeating every layer in between, will do that.

I'm glad to be rid of it, but boy is it a lot of work to go to laminate. It's worth it. The house is tons better already, and we haven't even got a tenth of the surface area covered yet.

Okay, maybe it's over a tenth now. I've got two empty boxes, and three mostly empty ones out of thirty-ish.

And now, I must go back to work. Part two of Fellowship awaits!

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part One

I just saw the latest Harry Potter movie in a second-run pub theater.  Great company, good food, but the movie didn't work very well for me.  I'd read a little about pacing issues, so I didn't go in with high expectations.  Even with that in mind, though, I had serious trouble with the way the story moved.  The elements were mostly there--fine actors, beautiful special effects that didn't distract from the story, etc.  But I kept wondering what happened to the dialogue, to the ideas, and most of all, to the charm.

I was charmed by the books, and I was charmed by many of the movies.  I don't think it was a case of no-surprises.  I enjoyed watching the story I knew come to life on the big screen in the other Harry Potter movies, as well as other movie-from-book films I'd seen.  But life is precisely what was missing here, at least for me.  

For example, I delighted in the derigible plums.  At that point I reveled in that little taste of what had been omnipresent in the books and most of the other films--the color, the environment, the quirky things that belonged there despite their often unusual character, and the sometimes awe-inspiring beauty.  These things convinced me of the existence of another world as marvelous and complex as the real one we live in every day.  I had little to nothing except those plums to convince me of another world this time.

There's an important lesson here for storytellers everywhere.  The 'telling' details often mentioned in writing courses and critiques and in criticism are really important.  They ought to be called the 'showing' details, though.  Because they show us so much, without saying a word.

Bravo to actors, special effects folks, camera men, makeup artists, costumers ... and bravo to the writers, director, producer, etc. for all the hard work, but alas, I can't recommend this movie, and I'm likely to buy it only on discount in order to complete the set after the next movie has come out, assuming this next, and last, movie doesn't do the same or worse as its brother.

The Chores are Marching One by One

I've been working a lot and getting a lot done in writing, around the house, finances and all that.  I've even been working out.  In the end, though, I think I've overstretched.  Today I've got a headache and sore throat, and I'm slouched.  I feel a little better now than I did a few hours ago.  Breaking my fast with a home-cooked meal (spaghetti) probably helped.  I'm hoping a good night's sleep tonight will help even more.

We've been watching Bernard Shaw plays.  They've been a lot of fun.  They're BBC productions with some really fine actors in them, and so far they've been stage productions rather than movie-like cinema, which is a nice breath of fresh air.  As much as I enjoy movies, I enjoy theater too and I miss it when I haven't seen it in a while.  Watching on a DVD isn't as good as being in an actual theater, though.

Speaking of movies and stuff, we haven't seen Watchmen yet.  We have three tickets we advance purchased a while ago--I think it's finally time to use them.

Time for me to get some rest and some reading done for Lucky Labs, a certain literary award, and the master's writing class.  Hopefully I'll be more coherent tomorrow.  I don't feel sick sick just yet.  Maybe I'll dodge this illness like I've been managing to dodge colds the rest of the winter and get by with just one afternoon and evening of feeling under the weather.

Meanwhile, outside it's hailing.

The Grudge vs. The Ring

We picked up a whole bunch of horror movies discounted for Halloween.  I'm not a big fan of horror, but I like a well-made suspense.  I even watched The Others in the theater.  One of the few movies that's actually made me jump.  It still makes me jump about 50% of the time.  It's not the best horror movie I've seen, but it's up there.

Anyway, the boy and the girl are seeing these for the first time.  It's fun watching their fresh, no-preconceptions reactions to the movies.  We've been rating them, which is scarier than which, and two have floated to the top.  The Grudge, and The Ring.  (I want to get Ringu also so they can compare.)

So of course we came up with The Grudge vs. The Ring (though I doubt we're the first.)

Scenario:  Karen Davis (Sarah Michelle Gellar) finds out about the tape.  She takes it to the grudge house, plugs in the tape, sets it to play, and runs.

Curious, the ghost woman of the house comes over, sits down, and watches.  After she watches the images (largely baffled rather than creeped out,) the phone rings.  She walks over and answers.  One eye is showing.  

"Seven days," the voice on the phone says.

"Uhhhhhhhh" she replies.

And mayhem ensues.

Exceptional Films

Steve Barnes recently posed a question on his blog.  I started to get wordy with my response, so I decided to crop it and continue my thoughts here.

The question was:  What would be your vote for Greatest Movie, especially from the perspective of studying film?

You all know me.  I have lots of favorites, which means I'd have lots of votes and so it would be really hard to pin down one.  I ultimately went with Cyrano de Bergerac (1990)

Someone posted Secondhand Lions.  So I responded--

Secondhand Lions would be close to the top of my list too! Really excellent writing and acting in that one. Casablanca has also already been mentioned. Cyrano de Bergerac (1990) with Depardieu is masterful on so many levels--character focus, sets, lighting, acting, music, extras, choreography -- even the level of craft in the subtitles is incredible. I've probably watched it a hundred times and it amazes me every time. Curse of the Golden Flower--except I felt the spilled poison on the tapestry end wasn't quite right. Maybe I'm too western to appreciate it. It just wasn't quite enough. Galaxy Quest. A lot of excellent elements came together to make this one of the most appreciated genre films out there. Part of its genius is that it knows its audience and plays both the positive and negative sides of the culture to its complete advantage. And, I hate to say it, but Dude, Where's My Car from both an entertainment and craft perspective is scarily amazing. I was very resistant to watching it the first time and sat down in total resignation. And was blown away. I dunno. Maybe my expectations were so low ... someone tell me I'm crazy! It was particularly masterful with its reveals and the level of plot acceleration. Chocolat, Forrest Gump, Kung Fu Hustle and Spirited Away are also amazing and I think they teach a lot about storytelling and visual presentation.  

There are six other films that stand out very strongly in my mind, but I believe it's mainly due to subject matter although craft certainly played a role. The LotRs trilogy, Schindler's List, Braveheart and Lion in Winter. Since the subject matter is so compelling to me I can't look at these films rationally.  

Schindler's List and Braveheart fall into a separate category with Pillow Book of films I love but can't rewatch. Actually, I rewatched Braveheart on DVD when we bought it, didn't regret it, but still can't make myself watch it again. It's too hard. I can't even own Schindler's List or Pillow Book. I'm such a wuss.

On the flip side, there's a film everyone loves and I could barely sit through it. The only reason I did was because it was part of a double feature and Casablanca was the second feature. (It was worth it.) That's Fargo. Ugh. No, double ugh.  In my mind it had no redeeming qualities. None.

I'm more in the norm with considering Brokeback Mountain not all it was cracked up to be. It was groundbreaking but not an exceptional film. Lots of missed opportunities in dialogue, storytelling, and overall film craft. I'm glad it made a splash, but I've seen much, much better on equally difficult subjects and I don't think it deserved most of the awards it got. If there was an award for "Should Have Been Mainstream A Long Time Ago" then it should have won that one, hands down. I fear that future generations will consider all the awards given to Brokeback Mountain the cinematic award equivalent of a pity f*ck.

So how 'bout it? From not just a good time perspective or made me cry perspective or made me rewind it three times because I couldn't believe what I was seeing perspective but that critical craftsmanship perspective where, if it's not perfect you can see perfection easily within its grasp--what's your list of outstanding films? Any recent ones, like The Dark Knight stands out for me, that stand out for you?

The Mean Book

While talking with Rory (one of my favorite things to do, aka, yammering) he pointed out that I had the makings of a mean book. I don't mean a great American novel (yuck! Who wants to write one of those?) but an actually mean book. As we all know I'm terribly mean and this book is right up my alley. On the other hand, I'm worried that someone might pick up this very mean book and get their feelings hurt.

I worked (if you could call it work) briefly (over a few months) on a movie to remain nameless for now. I think if I were to write about my experiences on the movie I'd change the names of everyone and everything, maybe even the names of common objects like shoes (I can call them smeerps! Oh wait, those are rabbits,) to avoid trodding on toes. I doubt there would be legal issues. That's not what I'm concerned about.

The fact is that I genuinely like the people who I worked on the project with, and I'd hang my head in shame if I learned anyone shed a tear or blushed with embarrassment or anger as a result of my work. So, let's think about this.

Honestly, the likelihood that one of the folks, much less a number of folks, who worked on the project would pick up a copy of this book (assuming it even gets published, a large suppose) is miniscule.

On the other hand, I'd be promoting my book in the same vicinity as these people. We live in the same town, and some of us attend the same events promoting our stuff. Eek.

Maybe they'd consider it mutual promotion if my 'secret' was outed.

Maybe they'd chase after me with pitchforks. Kill the monster, kill, kill!

I've found that in writing people fail to recognize themselves on the page. Unless you keep the names the same and jump up and down yelling "This is you!" and maybe not even then, people will laugh at themselves and never see themselves right there in front of their own faces mirrored in print. There's even more weasel room because a lot of times they'll just write off what you've written about them as your own flawed perception (which it is) and think nothing of it.

On the other hand, I sensed a lot of fragile ego hiding behind facades of particularly bold bravado. If anyone is unable to take the heat, it'd be these people. Why they're getting involved in the film biz, I dunno, but there they are. I guess it's possible that they'd make it, seeing as others who are much more quirky than they are have, but it's a tough business and the critics can be cruel. Often and sadly accurate but still cruel. Maybe I'd be contributing to that cruelty, or maybe I'd simply be a grain of sand on a much bigger beach--nothing worth noticing on the grand scheme of things. I think I'd be a purple grain of sand. Or maybe blue. Definitely not green.

This could be a really fun thing to do. Hey, maybe by the time I finish writing, editing, marketing it, sell it, and get it into print, everyone including me will be dead. Then the wide world can enjoy it as it is and there will be no rocks thrown through my window. Besides, in all seriousness, I don't think I'm really mean, cruel and heartless. I can be snippy and I can laugh at the expense of others, but I'm not a comedian out to rake her family over the coals to get a chuckle and a few bucks. I almost always give folks the benefit of the doubt, and treat them with as much respect as I have the foresight to grant them (which, in my limited wisdom, I don't always give enough.) I'm passionate about this idea. (Can you tell?) And I'm not planning to make my living in the business, so any bridges that I burn will be bridges I didn't plan on crossing in the first place. But I don't like the idea of writing on a subject hiding behind a shield of 'I never liked all y'all anyway so screw you.' I'd like to think that the principles could read it and enjoy it like anyone else, maybe more, because they were there and they remember.

It seems doubtful, though, that they'd enjoy much of it because so much of the material is rooted in how ridiculous and stupid some of the process turned out to be. I mean appalling. Some days I hope I'll see it in a local theater (I trust one of my insiders can give me a heads up for how many whiskeys are advised prior to viewing) and other days I think that maybe it would be better for everyone if it died in post. Like a first novel, a first feature-length movie that was written, directed, produced and acted by shiny, brand new people will be what it will be. It's a learning experience. I want to put that learning experience on the page, as a warning and inspiration to others.

Besides, sometimes it's fun to exercise my mean dog self. She lays around so much, she really needs a long walk once in a while.

Movies that Make Me Cry

I'm having a bad night, so it's nicely coincidental that at work I read an article about movies that made people cry. It's been blogged about before all over the web, but what the heck, I'm feeling dispirited anyway. Might as well throw in my two cents. They had a top ten list that included The Green Mile, Old Yeller, Terms of Endearment, Ghost and so forth. They mentioned Schindler's List, but it didn't make the top ten and that's when I thought Huh? Not that I can do better, but here are mine, not ten exactly but my list of sob-inducing movies that didn't make the top ten list in the article.

1. Schindler's List--Let's start with the honorable mention from the article and put it on top. This movie is so hard to watch people often watch it just once, even though they report that it was one of the best movies they've ever seen.
2. Forrest Gump--This movie got so much hype it turned people off from watching it. Too bad, because I'm right there with Forrest leaking and snurffling when he's talking to his beloved, buried Jenny. And his little boy--goodness. And there's happy tears at the end, and on and on. I even cry during the credits, dang it!
3. Big Fish--The hardest part for me is when his son carries his father to the water, with all the people his father has loved there to bid him farewell, and his father swims away. But they don't let us off the hook that easy, nope. We go back to the hospital. Brutal. Pass the kleenex, please!
4. Bridge to Terabithia--The ending was terrible, as in some Hollywood jerk couldn't be satisfied with the boy and his sister crossing the bridge together but had to turn it into a bad facsimile of a Hallmark moment. Nonetheless, when I want to feel deeply and let the darkness take me away I grab this movie, some chocolate, a cup of tea and a handkerchief and brace for impact after the museum trip.
5. Braveheart--William Wallace, no matter how many times you're hurt and betrayed, you keep trying. When Wallace sees his beloved as a kind of ghost among the crowd of spectators while he's being disemboweled, I can't take it. Waaaaaaaaah! There are just so many difficult moments in this movie I want to curl up in a ball and rock.
6. What Dreams May Come--Has its moments, good and bad, but when push comes to shove this has to make the list of movies that wring tears from my eyes and forces me to stifle sobs. Robin Williams has a spotty track record but he does well in this. In many places the setting alone makes my throat ache. And then they meet again. Sniff!
7. Cyrano de Bergerac (French remake)--No one can take his panache. Emotional agony by death of a thousand paper cuts, and then it goes in for the kill. Gerard Depardieu is the one and only Cyrano for me. Roxanne, you are unworthy. I miss the semi-yearly tradition of Cyrano, brie cheese, red wine and croissants I used to have. I really need to have a Cyrano night again sometime soon.
8. Fellowship of the Ring--Kudos to Sean Bean for the horrifically beautiful death of Boromir. I felt every arrow, and wanted to soothe his regrets right along with Aragorn. It's not your fault, Boromir. Stupid ring, stupid stupid ring ...
9. Return of the King--While we're at it, when the ships sail, I lose it. I'm filled with joy, and pain, and longing. To the white shore, and a swift sunrise. Geez, it makes me tear up even now.
10. City of Angels--This movie got a lot of flack because apparently most people liked an earlier version rather than the remake. Well I didn't see the original, so this one makes my list. If I ever plan to see the original I'll let you guys know so that you can buy stock in tissue paper first.
11. Charlotte's Web--This movie has become threadbare over the years for me, but Charlotte's song about Mother Earth and Father Time will always get to me so long as I have a soul.
12. Watership Down--I'm not ashamed to say that animations can affect me just as deeply as a drama filmed with the world's finest actors. Bright Eyes, ah yes, I know he survives but dang. It still hurts like a sonuvagun. The movie hits hard with that feeling of loss.
13. Don Juan de Marco (with Johnny Depp)--Happy, happy tears. Chokes me up every time. Why not? And the music swells. Can't ... see ... I need a hug!
14. Toy Story 2--There's something about abandoning a cowgirl doll that kills me. Argh! It's just one point in the movie that makes me cry, but man is it ever reliable.
15. Grumpier Old Men--"I think God forgot about me." If you gotta go, I guess at a venerable age, in the midst of a beautiful love affair, is not a bad time. Here's a rose for the old man. Normally I'd pass on this sort of movie, but I have to admit I'm a long time fan of Sophia Loren, who still has my vote as one of the most beautiful women in the world. Ann-Margret is also in this film. Boy, if I hold up as well against time as these two women, I'll be a happy (if tearful) Kami. I'm glad I caved and watched this. I wasn't disappointed.
16. Somewhere in Time--I almost left this off the list because it's been so long since I've seen it, I don't know how well it holds up. But I still feel the pain after all these years, so here it is, warts, tears and all.

Additions, subtractions, disagreements, rotten vegetables and thumbs up welcome, as always.

Snufflingly yours, Kami