What makes you cry more? Happy-Sad or Sad-Sad?

Last week my daughter made the following statement: “Happy-sad evokes a stronger emotional response than sad-sad,” referring to the many movies that make us tear up.  Rather than take this statement at face value, we went through the list of the movies that make us cry:  some by her, some by me, and some that we both agreed on.  Here’s what we came up with:

Cinema Paradiso

Field of Dreams

Dances with Wolves

To Kill a Mockingbird

The Color Purple

Awakenings

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Titanic

Magnolia

The Natural

Sense and Sensibility

It’s a Wonderful Life

Schindler’s List

Forrest Gump

E.T.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Roman Holiday

Finding Neverland

The Sixth Sense

Avalon

We could have named another dozen or two, undoubtedly.  Michael Phillips of the Chicago Tribune cried at the movie Up, but I’ve seen it so many times now that I can’t remember if I cried the first time.  I probably did.  Other movies people seem to mention a lot are ones I haven’t seen: Marley and Me, My Girl, The Notebook, etc.

Looking at the above list, I can draw a few conclusions:

1)      Actors Henry Thomas and Haley Joel Osment are fricking geniuses and Thomas should have been nominated for an Oscar.  Kids are too often overlooked, though thankfully Osment did get a supporting actor nomination.

2)      Music is the big emotional manipulator.  Aimee Mann’s song “Wise Up” in Magnolia kills me – KILLS me – every time.  And don’t get me started on Randy Newman’s waterworks-inducing scores to Avalon and Awakenings.

3)      Steven Spielberg could be paid based on tears and do quite well.

4)      Music isn’t an absolute necessity to induce tears.  Sometimes silence is the best soundtrack for us to feel raw emotion.  Watch this clip from The Sixth Sense:

5)      Happy-Sad movies – those that produce a tear even when conveying a happy or bittersweet moment – produce far more tears for me than downright sad movies.  And many movies have sad scenes that don’t evoke as much response from me as the happier moments minutes later.  Case in point: in To Kill a Mockingbird, I don’t cry when Tom Robinson is wrongly convicted of rape, but I do cry when Scout recognizes Boo Radley in her brother’s bedroom near the movie’s end.  Another example: in It’s a Wonderful Life, the only moment that gets me every time is when Ernie reads the telegram from Sam Wainwright.  There’s something about a guy who’s willing to stick by a friend even after losing his girlfriend to him that resonates with me.  Again, this scene plays without music and works beautifully.

Below is the list my daughter and I comprised, this time with an HS for happy-sad and an S for sad.  Happy-sad wins out by a mile for me.

Cinema Paradiso (HS)

Field of Dreams (HS)

Dances with Wolves (HS)

To Kill a Mockingbird (HS)

The Color Purple (HS)

Awakenings (S)

The Perks of Being a Wallflower (HS)

Titanic (S)

Magnolia (S)

The Natural (HS)

Sense and Sensibility (HS)

It’s a Wonderful Life (HS)

Schindler’s List (S)

Forrest Gump (HS)

E.T. (HS)

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (HS)

Roman Holiday (HS)

Finding Neverland (HS)

The Sixth Sense (HS)

Avalon (S)

What is it about a bittersweet or happy moment that fills us with emotion that exceeds even that of the dourest occasion?  Do we respond to happy moments with the same emotional level in real life, or are we merely being manipulated by the creators of a constructed art form?  If our real lives were accompanied by a score, would we be crying constantly?

The Phrase "Spoiler Alert."

The invention of the phrase “spoiler alert” has got to be one Man’s greatest linguistic contributions over the last decade or so.  Philip B. Corbet of The New York Times has rightly pointed out how overused the phrase has become, and how it’s often used incorrectly, but for my money, overuse is preferable to the alternative.

I think of the woman who came to my home in 2002, and who – after eating our food – thanked us by divulging the ending of the movie, The Others.

I will do for you what she didn’t do for me.

!!!!SPOILER ALERT!!!!

She opened up that pouty little mouth of hers and spewed out, “I couldn’t believe it when I learned her children were dead.”

She is very, very lucky that I didn’t resort to the following (or worse): 

After her egregious case of vomit of the mouth, it didn’t matter to me if she was smart or pretty, if she’d overcome obstacles in her life or helped the needy.  I couldn’t possibly care less if she gave twenty percent of her earnings to charity or if she was raising three perfect little angels.  None of that shit mattered to me.  What mattered is she opened her mouth and ruined the ending of a movie I was excited to see.  Yeah, the film had already left theaters and moved into video stores, but to me, there is no statute of limitations when it comes to revealing secrets about a piece of art.

I still haven’t told my kids about the ending of Psycho.  I’ll never divulge the meaning of Rosebud, whether or not Thorwald really murders his wife, and where the quarter of a million dollars is hidden in the movie Charade.  That’s for them to discover.  And I sure as heck won’t mention a word about The Sixth Sense.  Sure, I could try to ease my kids’ anxiety and mention !!!SPOILER ALERT!!! that the ghosts are actually trying to help, that they’re good guys (never mind the movie’s Big Secret).  I resorted to this tactic when my kids were younger watching E.T. for the first time.  !!!SPOILER ALERT!!! “The bad guys are actually good guys,” I said, attempting to alleviate their trepidation, but I’ll never do this again.  It kills the journey.

Some people just don’t get it, including – unfortunately – much of my family.  Last summer my sister-in-law blurted out the secret behind the musical, Next to Normal, the same day my daughter was to see it.  And just last month, my mother, in response to an email of mine indicating that I wanted to see the movie Enough Said, wrote the following email !!!SPOILER ALERT!!!:

I fell in love with the Soprano guy, what an appealing person.  Was Julia's character vulnerable, screwed up, or just terribly unkind?

Yep.  So now I know the ending of that movie, too.  Thanks, Mom.

I think when it comes to discussing books, films and theater, we could look to my sister for guidance.  Her advice for living in a world in which the excretion of opinions is as commonplace as breathing is this:

Shut your trap.