The crying game

Stephen Whitty | ArtiSyndicate By Stephen Whitty | ArtiSyndicate
Email the author | Follow on Twitter
on November 13, 2007 at 8:27 AM, updated November 14, 2007 at 10:24 AM
Morgan Freeman, Jack Nicholson: On the "List"
We men are supposed to be stalwart, stoic types -- heroes who, like, Mark Wahlberg in "Shooter," tend to our own wounds with a turkey-basting kit. We don't flinch, we don't hesitate, and we certainly never cry.

Except at the movies.

I was thinking about that recently when I saw that Jeff Wells' Hollywood-Elsewhere site had linked to a a Desson Howe story about tearjerkers. Howe -- rather drily -- interviewed various experts on the emotional reasons behind cinematic meltdowns. Wells' and his readers had more interesting, personal things to add.

But what really brought the subject home was seeing an early sneak of "The Bucket List."

I won't get into a review of the Rob Reiner film -- which comes out in December, and stars Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman as terminal cancer patients -- except to say it left me dry-eyed. I laughed a few times -- there are few movie joys more consistent then watching Nicholson absolutely, comically lose it, and the film is, for much of its length, a comedy -- but I didn't weep at the end, and I don't think many other men will, either.

Clint Eastwood, Hillary Swank: "Million Dollar" tearjerker

And that's because it doesn't follow the time-honored rules of the male weepie.

The female weepie is a different genre. Because, let's face it, women are still raised to be more in touch with their emotions, there's a far wider array of situations that can move them at the movies -- a sick child ("Lorenzo's Oil"), an ill friend ("Beaches"), a bittersweet love affair ("An Affair to Remember"), a woman's quiet bravery ("Imitation of Life.")

For men, it still comes down to sports and fathers.

That's reductive, I know, but it generally holds true. Make a movie about a father and son struggling ("I Never Sang For My Father," "The Pursuit of Happyness") and half your audience's eyes start to mist over. Make a movie about an ailing sports figure ("Brian's Song," "The Pride of the Yankees") and you really start to hear the sniffles.

And find a way to combine sports and sons -- as in "Field of Dreams" -- and you have a blockbuster.

Paul Henreid and Bogart: Do the Rick thing.

There are exceptions of course. I never really had a relationship with my father, or a strong interest in sports. My teenage years were a steady but not particularly dramatic struggle. So for me, the most emotional thing at the movies is seeing someone stubbornly, quietly doing the right thing -- especially on behalf of someone else.

So that short scene in "Casablanca," when Paul Henreid goes down to the band to demand they play "La Marseillaise"? And Bogart, after a moment's consideration, catches the band leader's eye and nods his assent?

Kills me every time.

But what has you blinking back tears?

Is it the old mixture of sports and tragedy, like Clint Eastwood's final act of mercy toward Hillary Swank in "Million Dollar Baby"? Romantic reunions, like Warren Beatty's and Diane Keaton's in "Reds"? Or simple acts of self-sacrifice, like Leonard Nimoy -- knowing "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few" -- saving the crew in "Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan"?

What makes you mist up? Write back, please -- I'd like to know.

In the meantime, you can read the original Desson Howe story here

Or the Hollywood Elsewhere reactions here