Happiness is Dead Bodies
When life gets depressing I've always found comfort in movies. People have never been able to console me that well. Who knows why. Maybe because through their back pats and hugs I am reminded of whatever I would rather forget. So, I often turn to the familiar faces in my favorite movies.
For problems with love usually the Jon Favreau movie "Love and Sex" or "Broadcast News" (which I also turn to for job woes). For all other problems including those involving friendship, disappointment and general down in the dumps I mostly put on Stanley Tucci's films (pretty much just "The Impostors" and "Big Night"), "Singin' in the Rain," "Guys and Dolls" and "The Good Girl." And if I'm seriously wallowing in self-pity I watch "Donnie Darko"-- which, believe it or not always makes me feel better (I remember that at least I'm not seeing at psychotic bunny).
Lately, my film companions haven't been helping with frustration. I sit down to watch one and find I would rather be plucking my eyebrows (maybe not that, but you get the point, I'm bored from the beginning). To ease my worries I have been obsessively (or more obsessively than usual) watching my old taped episodes of "Homicide".
My friends reading this are now rolling their eyes. I'm quite sure that they thought that I was already watching the show every spare moment in my life. But they're wrong. Before the past two weeks, I've been on a H:LOTS hiatus for probably about two or three months. I'd watch the occasional episode every now and then (more than likely "A Model Citizen" from Season Two or "Night of the Dead Living" from Season One), but I haven't broke out the tapes since they started coming out with the box sets-- so, it's been almost a year.
Now I find myself compulsively watching the things. Even now, James Earl Jones is talking to Yaphet Koto and fixing a basketball net in the background (I could tell you about the rest of the episode almost verbatim, but I wouldn't want to spoil anything?).
Who knew that murders, suicides, morgues, interrogations, bad ties and Richard Belzer could make a person so happy?
And even though I have absolutely no money for it, I still shelled about $66.48 for the Season Four Box Set. Mike Kellerman will arrive tomorrow-- just in time to help me cope with another job rejection.
But enough about me, what do you watch when you've had a shitty day (or month)?
2 Comments:
Fart on rejection! You now I'd hire you, but I have no money. Lately, I've been watching the Samurai Jack set Eblet got me. i sort of understand movie therapy; when I watched "Loove Liza" with one of your favorites, Philip Seymour Hoffman, it was one of the few times in my life I thought, "Well, at least my life isn't so bad I'm huffing gasoline all the live-long day." This was deep into Home Depot depression time. I didn't roll my eyes, by the way. Homicide is a noble obsession.
I do, actually, watch stuff when I need a pick me up or something. But I think lots of people do, so I don't consider myself a revolutionary for it. And I don't know if I consider the catharsis I can experience after having watched a really good (or meaningful to me) film as consoling...just doesn't seem to fit the definition. But there is a release, sometimes...or a "yes, watch this thing that you know will make you feel this tried and true emotional sort of way"...even if that emotion is sad or something, at least I know before hand. Anyway, consoling, is an altogether different sort of thing for me, but I think I get what you mean.
I watch all manner of things that I refuse to apologize for, no matter how others may judge them. It just depends on the particular moment. Right now I just keep watching "Bend It Like Beckham." And there's no particular reason. I suppose I should be watching something with heart sickness, since I had to break up with my boyfriend, who I quite liked...but I haven't been in that kind of mood actually. Hope your newest Homicide DVDs are consoling you about the job situation, which seriously sucks right royal ass! I blame those parents of yours for our misery, however. Fucking Separate Them Separatist, Make Her Move to Tifton Kill-Joys!
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