A) I know the musical’s in development, but I’m totally talking about the movie.
B) Why am I talking about this? Well, I was writing this post about how I willingly hand my heart over to scripted shows and allow them to break it all they want. But if I ever have to watch a reality show, I get really angry when they try and manipulate my emotions. It just feels sooooo forced and fake and gross to me. I’d react to the exact same scenario (down to the lines and facial expressions) in two totally different ways depending on whether it was scripted or reality.
I was going to explore a little if I think that’s fair, since both types of shows are just trying to tell stories. (Btw, I actually think it’s totally fair to have such wildly different reactions.) But anyway, that post sort of bored me. So, I scrapped it. But Little Miss Sunshine was the emotional example I used. And I remember loving that movie SOOOOOOOOO much that I thought, “let’s just talk about that.”
C) B) ***huge, huge, humongous spoiler alert if you haven’t seen the movie*** (If you haven’t seen the movie, go get it immediately! (I would say invite me over, but I don’t know that I’m emotionally stable enough to handle that movie.)
Okay, so Little Miss Sunshine:
I sobbed – I mean, really, really, like, bright red face, tears streaming down my face, gasping for air, burying my face in a pillow, screaming to the heavens, cried like I’d never cried before seeing that movie – when Paul Dano’s character couldn’t have his one dream in life because he was colorblind! I’m tearing up just thinking about it!
All he ever wanted was one thing. But you can’t do anything about being colorblind! I’m such a believer in the whole “anything is possible!” mindset. I’m all about finding solutions and workarounds and things. But there was no answer to this. His life was over. And it felt like someone had ripped out my heart, torn it into 80 pieces then thrown it to a dog to devour. (I am never going to be able to see this Broadway musical, am I? ‘Cause I will get way too emotional and get thrown out.)
I have never been more touched by a movie. (And I don’t even really super love movies. I’m way more of a television girl myself.)
But anyway, I loved it. I love it still. I’ll always love it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go cry for poor fictional Dwayne Hoover because his dream is dead.