all happy times are alike; sucky times suck for each one in their own unique way. i have two requirements for a make-it-better-please film: that the film be good, and that it enhance (restore?) my belief that the world is ultimately a kind, benign place. with those in mind, here goes:
kramer vs kramer
because two warring parties (a man and a woman!) lay down their weapons and give up their requests, and make the life of a little boy, if not happy, tolerable
spirited away
a place where grace, kindness, happiness, and humor win the day
babe
you can
babe, pig in the city
even when it seems absolutely impossible (plus someone loves you and watches over you)
marion bridge
secrets fester, isolate, and kill; the truth clears the muck away and connects
red
a beautiful portrait of love at work in the world
miracle in milan
milan is not a place for miracles. if you can make milan miraculous, you can make just about any place miraculous
fire
they get away; together
the science of sleep
beauty and fantasy will see you through — somehow
me and you and everyone we know
losers of the world unite: this place is for you
chuck & buck
because the unconscious bravely and resiliently goes at it (even when it hurts like hell) till it kicks the door down and gets itself happily and liberatingly heard (“it wasn’t that bad, was it?” “no, it was fabulous”)
un air de famille
agnes jaoui
the taste of others
agnes jaoui
WALL-E
cause in space no one can hear you dance
Restorative, regenerative films–interesting topic, G! Of course, I veer off in a very different direction, for my own psychic needs.
There are a few films that cheer me up, but their respective mechanisms for said impact are quite different. But the point of connection across all might be the way such viewing is like a ritual.
For instance, if you tallied up all the hours I’ve spent watching Jaws, it’d probably come to about 32 days — seeing the whole film at least a couple dozen times, and then watching an hour here, twenty minutes there when I run across it. And it’s like a calm comes over me as I sink into its familiar pleasures. I end up recalling little chunks of dialogue, grin appreciatively as I await the next beat. But it’s also ceaselessly surprising: moments where I smile (maybe for the first time, but maybe for the hundredth) because I see the film’s artistry fresh. It reminds me less of the ‘newness’ of this particular movie than of my pleasures in filmgoing. Other examples: It’s a Wonderful Life, Rushmore and Bottle Rocket, Magnolia, After Hours. These films are like tuning forks perfectly pitched to my sensibilities.
But, for the most part, there isn’t some common thematics–nor necessarily a sense that the films enact a kind of regeneration, through the plot. I recall going in with a crowd to see Neil Jordan’s bleak black comedy The Butcher Boy, in a foul mood, and walking out in the best damn mood, while everyone else had been shaken up by the film’s story. I get jazzed by the vibrancy of the aesthetic–that might be the common ground across all of the films I named.
Maybe. I can also make do with a horror film. They cheer me up. Surely it’s part catharsis: as if all my rage and fear get an open airing through my interaction with the blood, guts, slashing, running, screaming. But I actually relish the inescapable, too, the sculpted aesthetic of doom, for reasons that seem less a symptom of my psychology than tied to the point above — my pleasures in that form of text, in those texts’ form.
Vague. But I liked your post, and many of those movies.
Moulin Rouge
yeah, she dies, but oh . . . the vibrancy of the aesthetic (I’m being serious)
a list such as this is entirely contingent upon the various configurations of one’s psychic landscape, of course. and it didn’t occur to me for a minute that anyone in this gang would find soothing the movies i find soothing!
i’m surprised, mike, that horror comes only at the end of your comment, but then again you put jaws at the beginning, and that’s horror, right?
it’s a wonderful life, which should rightfully belong in my list, sends me straight to the bottle, but i did consider putting mr. smith goes to washington there.
frank capra was born in sicily. go figure.
since i have dogs i have no need to watch films to make me feel better when life sucks.
this is such a good point, arnab. if i didn’t have a cat i love that would be extremely upset if i got a dog and would show such upset by pissing everywhere (we tried), i’d get me a dog in a heartbeat. i think i wouldn’t like, in theory, a dog that’s too small. how big are yours?
oh, i forget, you don’t read my posts. never mind.
are you kidding me, gio? i always read your posts at least 4 or 5 times. i try to memorize them and chant them aloud as benedictions.
our dogs are mid-size. mike, on the other hand, recently acquired a rat-dog.
why don’t we all use this thread to post cute pictures of our pets, for when life sucks?
Okay! Here’s my cute little pup:
I don’t know how to do this.
I like that, because one dog’s looking one way, and one dog’s looking the other way.
they’re actually looking in the same direction, but from different sides. i just blew your mind!
these two dogs are gorgeous. i’m posting a picture of my cat parsley and of mike’s dog maggie for him.
when i can remember how!
arnab, i can’t believe you called your dogs alu and gobi! hahahahahahah.
I was trying to cite Goodfellas, but couldn’t recall the exact Pesci line. But you did still blow my mind.
Okay:
The dog is on the right.
a good likeness. when will she be ready for visits with larger dogs? don’t worry, we’ll feed them before we come.
Man, that dog has grown (or Reynolds is geting smaller).
Actually, I grafted the dog’s upper torso onto mine, and it’s doubled in size in a week.
parsley. thanks, arnab.
giovanna is a moron.
OK, I tried. I too am a moron.
Thisbe
arnab, seriously, i used the selfsame code you did. talk to me. explain. please.
okay, look, i posted an identical line of code just underneath yours, and not only did i not get two identical images one after the other, but made your image all ALL THE CODE disappear.
flickr probably doesn’t allow hotlinking of those images. or you may have disabled hotlinking of your own pictures when you set up your albums. i don’t know how flickr works. i’m not cool enough to use it.
but luckily you can upload pictures directly to the blog. log in, go to the post screen and look for the upload button. upload your picture. then select “full size” from “show” and “none” from “link to”. then click on “send to editor”. you’ll see the url to the image appear in the post box. cut and paste that into a comment (or into a post for purposes other than this thread).
Ah, there’s Thisbe!
okay, fuck it. the internet hates me. this is the code. maybe someone can solve this mystery for me.
[img src=’http://www.highlyirrelevant.com/movies/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/parsley-in-the-sun.jpg’ alt=’parsley-in-the-sun.jpg’ /]
Hmmm, maybe the internet does dislike you. I followed Arnab’s directions strictly (is there any other way) and it did work for me.
This is Poco. He stays in the attic.
Wow, Poco’s years on the road as the first country-rock band have really worn him down.
I forgot my other pet, Li’l Clinty, whose antics always bring a smile to my face:
Maggie left me a smile today!
Where’d she leave it? Hopefully not on your face (well, to be honest, that’s exactly what I’m hoping for).