Driving home from work last night, daughter's doing movie night with girlfriends, mom's got the house to herself, stopped at the grocery store to pick up some things . . . I'll rent myself a movie! Now Harleigh and I often watch movies together, but to watch one by myself feels almost indulgent, an event to be savored. My friend Tim had told me about Into the Wild so that's what I picked up. It stars that hunky, brooding skateboarder dude from Lords of Dogtown.
Hunkered down in the rumpus room, all the lights off, sound of rain outside, all smiley and full of myself at the week that lays ahead. What was I thinking when I rented this one?!?!?!?!? Oh------ my------gosh. It was beautifully sad, poignantly intelligent, a true story, chock-full of memorable but subtle performances by big stars, and just the most depressing movie I think I've ever seen. I cried — not in that hard, the-tears-keep-coming way like when you watch Beaches — but a cry that you just sorta feel coming from deep inside, that's fueled not just by what you're watching but by other personal stuff that manages to seep in.
Glad I can say that I've seen this flick, but, needless to say, for a grand kick-off night to the fun and homey adventures that brand this break, I should have grabbed Hairspray.
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