Boys don’t cry

I have several movies that I keep meaning to get around to re-watching, some real tear-jerkers — at least for my “manly” sensibilities. I’m as much a product of my generation as most people are and, in that paradigm: boys don’t cry. I had crying shamed out of me by about fourth or fifth grade, and the lesson stuck to such a degree that it takes quite a bit to get obvious tears out of me most days.

All humans will be out of the house next week, so I can safely have a bawling session (or at least relax enough to do so) while there are no eyes upon me — which means I might have to break down and buy/rent a few jerkers if I don’t have the movies already in my streaming collection.

I don’t even need to watch all of Dangerous Liaisons to get me going — I can just fast-forward to the end of the duel scene between Valmont and Danceny. “Let it be. He had good cause. I don’t believe that’s something anyone has ever been able to say about me.”


But I do so very much love that story and I feel that the Malkovich/Close version of the movie was about as close as anyone could hope to come to the actual novel. Other versions of the same story that I’ve seen on stage and in film were, at best, pale imitations of the book. Which, to be honest, I’m tempted to reread once I get through the last two Abercrombie books that take place in his “First Law” world. The novel, Les Liaisons Dangereuses makes me cry, too, in case you wondered.

I also have some weepy memories of watching Legends of the Fall, although it looks like reviewers pretty much panned the film when it was in the theater. Maybe it is the wanderlust I had, maybe I hade read too many translations of the Tristan/Tristram and Isolde tale and have a different connection to that movie than most people, or maybe I just like the idea of someone going off and getting lost to escape their world. I have more than once over the years thought about just fading away to forget who I am and get out of my skin. I can relate to Tristan — always trying to do the right thing even though you’d rather be bad. And even, sometimes, succeeding in spite of yourself.

If I really want to get myself blubbering, I can watch the scene at the top of the climb, Rodrigo’s penance scene, in The Mission. Do you see a pattern emerging? No matter how many times I watch that scene, I start crying and even have difficulty in maintaining my façade trained into me from those years ago when someone is around. I love the movie as a whole, but it is that scene that slays me each time. Snotty, weeping mess…

There are other movies too, these are just a few. Usually, it is the trials and tribulations of the misunderstood, the misfits, and the remorseful that get me crying.

Maybe because I can relate all too well.

Throw me a few tear-jerkers in the comments so I can maybe expose myself to something new.

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