I saw the Movie Avatar late in the game; I believe it was months after it has been released on DVD. It was, of course, visually stunning, and I loved that finally, the bullish white American privilege finally didn’t win at story’s end. (I think I had been waiting for that at least since Disney’s Pocahontas..)
Then, some time afterward, I hear a radio report about Post-Avatar Depression Syndrome…
My response: Only just now…? Only this movie…?
*pshaw*
Get in line.
I do not just slip into a movie when I watch it on the big screen; it slips into me. Even the most responsive audiences cease to exist to me.
I remember the first time I was rejected from the movie experience inside of my head: The Crow. All those years ago, I can still feel the rejection. I was sitting in the apartment with the actors. And then the needles, omgosh, those needles. They came out of nowhere and flew through the air into that asshole’s flesh; I was so stunned that I jerked back into my seat and back into the reality of the theater. My friend next to me understood exactly what had happen to me, even though he couldn’t not explain it to his girlfriend, who had also witnessed my response…
So, I had no need to mock PADS, not any more than anything else in the world… Honestly, only just now…? Only that movie…?
After Thor, I was upset that the Asgardians still remain silent in our world, when it is so in need of help.
After X-men, First Class, I was disappointed that the virus in my blood still hadn’t merged with my DNA to wake up some latent mutation and shoot power forth from my eye-sockets.
After any of the Harry Potter movies, I have sulked that no owl has yet to deliver my invitation to attend Hogwart’s, even this late in my life, and cursed my parents for creating me muggle-born…
After the Green Lantern, I wanted to scream to the sky in frustration that the purple alien’s ring has yet to find me. Well, I was also a bit disappointed that Hal Jordan was not waiting for me in my bed when I returned home, also, but that is mostly a different topic.
After Transformers: Dark of the Moon, I kept an eye on the rearview mirror the entire return home, insistent that I could pick out the Decepticons from the pack of black SUVs on the road behind me before they transformed and blew me off the road…
And, finally, I left Super 8 with an empty feeling inside for not having shared an empathic link with such a creature…
Once more… Only just now…? Only that movie…?
Welcome to my brain. I assume that this response I have to the big screen experience speaks of the degree of thoughts in my head; the worlds that swirl into existence in my brain are a much closer match to the realities of the big screen than to the world I always have to return to after the credits roll. I know I will have to do this, but I am most always a little bit sad when I first step out into the parking lot. In that haze as I walk from one reality into the next, I feel the potential of them colliding together, and then the long silent pause when they don’t.
*sigh*
Only just now? Only that movie.
Amateurs…
gryphon's hole 