Crying is a sensitive subject for a lot of people, something I’ve never been able to fully explain. Some people just don’t like to show that much emotion. Some people don’t enjoy letting other people see them when they are that vulnerable. Other people cry because the lead in their pencils broken, even if there is a pencil sharpener on their desk.
Crying at the *movies* seems to be an even more sensitive subject. My best friend, for instance, has long held that people who cry at movies are weak, because none of the people on the screen are actually real, nothing is really happening to them and nothing is actually sad, therefore, nothing to cry about. I say, movies should be the one place that you can cry where people are not allowed mock you. I think that, despite the fact that there are some movies specifically *designed* to make you cry, it is the movies in which you did not expect to that you find find the best cries. And, generally, something about yourself that you didn’t know before.
I have a long history of balling at the movies. When I was younger there were so very many movies that made me cry. And the Band Played On. A League of Their Own. Steel Magnolias. Fried Green Tomatoes. These are all pretty standard ‘weepies’. In later years there was Prince of Egypt (I always cry when Moses frees his people…), What Dreams May Come and Children of Men. Of those three the one that surprised me the most was Children of Men and, subsequently, it was the one that taught me the most about myself. I don’t actually ever want to *have* children, but the thought of never being able to hear a child laugh or cry again is devastating to me. Who knew?
Regardless of the movie that it is and whether or not the filmmaker specifically intended for me to be weeping like a little girl at the moment that I am, I feel completely safe in letting go and letting the tears run down when I’m in a theatre. Since we are the only animal on the planet who expresses sadness in this way and we’ve chosen to create art that facilitates this emotion, I think that crying at the movies is significantly underrated.
So the next time you’re in the theatre (or at home, where, presumably you get mocked less) and something strikes you, let the tears flow. Don’t dab you eyes with embarrassment and hope that people will just think you have a runny nose. Blubber like a baby and be proud. And if, for any reason, you feel any reservations about doing so, remember: crying at the movies is so much better than crying because the photocopier has no paper.
(NB: My best friend did eventually squeak out a tear at a movie and, even though I wasn’t there to see it, I officially determined that she was no longer ‘dead inside’.)
