I know exactly what makes me cry: anytime characters are extremely happy. Or when two happy characters are separated. That's the worst. Do you know what Atonement did to me? I was the only dude in a theater full of girls and girls with their moms, and I was crying the hardest out of everyone. I empathize to a stupid degree. I just saw this Korean movie called A Moment to Remember. It wore me out. I cried sad tears. I cried happy tears. My eyes hurt. Just thinking about the movie, my eyes are watering. Damnit. Do I even have to mention: Mufasa.
There is something worse than two happy characters being separated. Two happy animals being separated, and having to watch one in total incomprehension of what's happened. The section where Oscar is just...sad and showing us the many depressed faces of a chimpanzee...was like someone repeatedly kicking my soul in the groin while pinching the back of my triceps. I have never been happier to have gone to a movie alone. Dont' get me wrong, it would have been nice to have someone there to comfort me. But I also would never have been able to see that person again. Ever. It'd be too embarrassing.
Cinema Beans: Beasts of the Southern Wild
I don’t know what the fuck makes me cry anymore. It’s so random. I can watch something as depressing as Ali: Fear Eats the Soul, recognize all the social pressures weighing down on Ali...and not shed a tear. And then Bill Murray’s speech from Scrooged makes me cry. I bawled at least three times during The Tree of Life. I just felt such a strong connection to Jack and what he went through with his father. The differences between Scrooged and The Tree of Life are astounding, yet they both hit some subconscious cord--clearly I wasn’t prepared for it.
I watched Beasts of the Southern Wild in a theater by myself. There were a couple of bros sitting nearby (that’s an awkward car ride home), and several other couples were scattered throughout the mostly empty theater. So, naturally, I didn't want to cry. And, also naturally, I failed. I’m a sucker for parent-child relationships, and Hushpuppy’s unbreakable connection to her father was more than I could handle. So as both Hushpuppy and her father finally begin to cry for the first time in the film, I pretty much followed suit and stopped trying to hold back the tears myself. But these aren’t cheap tears milked for sympathy--director Benh Zeitlin was doin’ work. The ending really wouldn't work as well without Hushpuppy's arc: one life leaves her as she discovers the insignificance of her own. For a film so concerned with the grand scheme of life, it’s Beasts’ smallest moments that really strike a chord, and the final scene is the culmination of it all. It's a calming, liberating, glorious moment that's just too much for these tear ducts.