3D films. They’re becoming the thing to do in the film industry. Remakes, cartoons, horror flicks-everyone’s trying it out, seeing how it affects ticket sales. Fine. I’m all for trying new things, pushing art (or movie making, which is sometimes a separate entity, in my opinion) further and further. I will also be the first to shout my disdain for 3D films to the high heavens. Pointless special effects that induce dizziness and headaches, all while wearing glasses every hipster in the world would gladly tackle you for- Forgive me if this does not sound entirely appealing.
That being said, sometimes you just have to go see a movie that’s in 3D- because you have no other choice. Last summer, I was outvoted in a group of people going to see Toy Story 3. I argued for 2D, even through the previews. Alas, Woody and Buzz flew out of the screen at my unwelcoming face (I will admit that the 3D wasn’t all that distracting in that case. There’s always an exception to every rule).
Last night, the film was Titanic. I understand if you need a minute to hum “My Heart Will Go On” or pretend that you haven’t thought about going to see it too. (It’s okay. Your secret’s safe with me.) I had never seen the film on the big screen, having been a few years younger than 13 when it came out. Of course, as a theater major with rather eccentric, life-loving friends, it was decided that we should dress for the occasion. No, we didn’t wear floaties and bathing suits (although upon reflection, that would have been almost as fun). We wore clothing from the period.
What started out as a joke grew to an idea, then a plan, then reality as we snuck up to the third floor of the fine arts building of our college, armed with backpacks and large purses. We crept from room to room, flicking through racks upon racks of dusty, hardly ever used costumes, our eyes raking the hangers for signs of anything that looked remotely early 1900’s. Every sound made us jump, panicked at the thought of being found out. A door slamming on the floor below made our palms sweat, snippets of conversation that floated up the staircase to our straining ears caused us to hide behind Shakespearian capes and doublets. Finally, after about 45 minutes of trying on random pieces of clothing, hoping to create some semblance of an outfit, we left, feeling satisfied with our findings.
Now, our dorm is an old brown stone, complete with decked out sitting room and parlor- perfect for a Titanic photo shoot. We dressed and got ready as quickly as we could manage (That stereotype about women taking a while to get ready? Turns out it’s true. Who knew?) and reconvened in the parlor, giggling to ourselves, still unsure if we could really go through with this. The photo shoot commenced- complete with a Leo, Kate, and two random passengers: one a middle class girl, and me, a third class ticket holder (gotta represent everyone).
Here we are (minus Leo, who was snapping the photo.)
Fast forward a few hours later, and we’re in line at the concession stand. I was the last to arrive, and was greeted by the ticket holder with a knowing, Finally got here? You’re with the group who’s dressed up for Titanic, right? Yes, I laughed. Gotta have some fun in life. Our group, about 10 people in total, took up the ends of two rows. I sat down at the end of one of the rows, staring somewhat apprehensively at the 3D glasses I had been given. Resigned, I slipped them on, and readied myself for what might be a dizzying few hours.
Yes, the 3D was unnecessary. Yes, it made me slightly sea-sick (get it?). Yes, I had seen the movie before. But none of that mattered. I got swept away by the familiar tune within the first ten minutes. About halfway through the movie, I had a realization- they have played that same little melody line at least 50 times. I don’t know how this had ever escaped my noticing. It was so obvious, almost grating due to its constant revamping- add a trill here, a slide there, and they won’t even recognize it!
Now, I had readied myself for the onslaught of tears that usually accompanies the viewing of this movie. I was armed with half a box of Kleenex in my lap, my friend’s (let’s call her Kate) hand securely placed in mine for moral support. But then the strangest thing happened. While everyone around me was sniffling (or full-blown sobbing), I felt my body go numb. It was as if my brain was saying You know what? Not today. Let’s just enjoy the film. No matter how sad I knew the situation was, I couldn’t bring myself to feel it. Odd. While it’s easy to blame the 3D, I think it was my brain’s way of letting me fully enjoy my evening. Funny how that works.
And enjoy it, I did. There’s something incredibly freeing about just doing something silly- and allowing yourself to get caught up in it. Yep, I was a part of that obnoxious group who sang along with Ms. Dion during the credits. Hell yeah, I posed on the arcade motorcycle as we left at 12:45 am (Wow, that’s a long movie). And, yeah- we dressed up for Titanic. Call it silly, stupid, ridiculous, fun- call it anything really. I call it a reminder that sometimes it’s the little things in life that make you remember to be grateful for everything else.