The fact that MoFi has been loging me out over and over again all day makes me cry. :( What have I done to offend you? Is it the pants? I'll keep them on this time, I swear. Just don't make me login again!
*cries*
I knew it! I knew it! If there's ONE serious answer here I'll eat my chapeau without gravy.
*settles back, pours gin and tonic*
The ending of The Straight Story always gets me. I hope your head doesn't get cold, BlueHorse.
Seriously? I cried a lot during the movie Jack Frost, the one with Michael Keaton as a snowman dad back from the dead.
I'm not sure why, but that movie really struck some hidden chord with me. (Shocked the hell out of me, too, to find myself crying to such a stupid movie)
The suffering of animals.
There are some scenes in Children of Men that, shall we say, had so much dust it got in my eyes *cough*
And of course the memory of things that could have been but didn't and things that happened and won't repeat and smiles still captured in digital form, well... ah damn here it comes
I usually cry more than my wife at sad movies (and by sad I mean plaintive, poignant type sad rather then sentimental type sad) and music will often make me cry for any number of reasons.
Puff the Magic Dragon.
Seriously.
COME ON CAPPY!! WHAT ABOUT YOU, TOUGH GUY????
I cry whenever I see love depicted. It can even happen during commercials. The quality of the movie/show has nothing to do with whether I cry. If I see some act of love -- particularly selfless love -- then I cry. I also cry when I see some act of love in real life. Unfortunately, this happens less frequently in real life than it does in a movie.
I almost never cry at sadness.
Dido's big aria in Dido and Aeneas. Jessie's big number in Toy Story 2. I suppose abandoned women do it for me.
I seriously was reduced to a blubbery mess of tears and snot recently upon first watching Werner Herzog's Little Dieter Needs to Fly. No Chuck-Norris'-Brother joke here--it was around the scene where he was talking about seeing the bear following him through the jungle, waiting for him to die, that the waterworks started and pretty much didn't let up until well after the end. A-MAZING movie.
Also (again, quite seriously), I always get misty at the end of Jean Rollin's Living Dead Girl. Another great movie, imo.
COME ON CAPPY!! WHAT ABOUT YOU, TOUGH GUY????
Yeah -- I'm not tough anymore. I was as tough as nails when my Dad was sick and after, but now, I'm a stupid blubbering mess about the silliest things. I hate it. Stupid WALL*E had me crying like a stupid little baby. I haven't cried like that since ET lay dead in that ditch. Ungh.
Aside from that mess, I get a little weepy whenever I hear this, but for the life of me, I don't know why -- I've never even been to Alberta.
Oh, and Dr. Zhivago, especially when he's running beside the tram.
Grant Morrison's WE3 comic. Thinking about if they make it into a movie and then watching it almost does it too.
Two Brothers, I was barley able to get through this movie.
Karate Kid II, when Ralph Macchio kisses the girl and Peter Cetera ramps up with "I'll be a knight who will fight for your honor". Oh boy, that's even more of a tear jerker than Dirty Dancing and the pottery scene from Ghost!
Aside from that mess, I get a little weepy whenever I hear this
I was at that concert!
Anyway, for me it's sports movies. The Natural, Brian's Song, Pride of the Yankees, Remember the Titans, and especially Field of Dreams.
ET dies??????
I cry when I get kicked in the nuts.
I mean "if". "If I get kicked in the nuts."
I wouldn't want anyone to think it's my chosen form of entertainment.
ET dies??????
Well, he comes back, of course, but still, at that moment, when he's all white and is flat on his back in that creek with the water and the leaves running over him...
You'll have to excuse me -- I'm getting a bit verklempt.
[...]
OK -- I'm OK now. And rocket, I was there too. Standing in the back, trying to be a big boy and not cry. It didn't work. Neil just came back from the dead, it was his first show, and then he trucked out that number. Ungh.
In the Doctor Who series 1 with Eccleston, when Captain Jack is telling the Doctor goodbye, well... you know, Doctor Who shouldn't bring me to tears, but it did.
One that I personally did not cry at, but which I have heard many a stories of grown men crying about, the episode of Futurama in which Fry's dog Seymour is shown at the end dutifully waiting for Fry to return... and he never returns.
I'm A Cyborg, But That's Ok brought me to tears numerous times. That is an amazingly precious film.
Yeah that dog bit is sad. It's no 'Puff', though.
The movie "Big" and the cartoon version of "Charlotte's Web."
The movie A.I. makes me cry in huge body-wracking snotty sobs. Bloody Spielberg.
hello!
Thinking of the initial moment after my son was born, and he looked deep into my eyes...
*wipes a tear*
Hearing the parrot call out for Mizushima in The Burmese Harp.
The 'Screen Kiss' montage in Nuovo cinema Paradiso.
Saying goodbye to a beloved pet.
Seeing violence erupt.
Succumbing to the overwhelming frustration of having good intentions gone ignored or misinterpreted...
In all seriousness, GramMa...
Cap'n - thanks. I cried at the end of Wall-E, and I was thinking to myself, what kind of a sick fuck am I to be 50 years old and crying at the end of a goddamn animated movie about two fucking robots? I mean, how pathetic is that?
Other RTD blubberfests:
Out of Africa
Forest Gump
Saving Private Ryan
Life is Beautiful
..and on and on...
Oh, the end of the last episode of 'Spaced', with everyone settled, and the camera pulls back as the front door closes, while Lemon Jelly's 'The Staunton Lick' plays us out.
I miss my ex-dog. That makes me a bit fragile.
And that scene in Manhattan, where Emily is talking to Isaac, and she confesses that she's sometimes angry at Isaac for introducing Mary to Yale, not realizing that Mary was already having an affair with Yale when she met Isaac, and Isaac just sits there and doesn't say anything, taking the hit for his no-good friend.
And the final send-off in Casablanca, of course.
Knifes in the gut. Every time. I didn't cry when I broke my knee, but I sure as hell leak at the sight of those.
And sometimes the "you're God's answer to Job" line. Not always. But sometimes.
*looks around for green tabasco*
No no. 'No gravy', Gramma.
There's a scene in The Happiness Of The Katakuris when they are all walking back as a whole family burying yet another dead customer of their bed and breakfast that I almost always tear up at too. The whole idea about that's what makes up a family is just really a big tear jerker to me.
muteboy... you bastard! *sniff* The last episode of SPACED...
Don't forget, also... Monkey died, everybody cry. King Kong. :(
I also teared up at the last episode of MST3K when Mike, Crow and Tom sit down to watch TV and The Crawling Eye comes up.
The movie CQ kind of makes me tear up a bit too in various places.
Bubba Ho-Tep makes me tear up too. That's like one of the best fucking buddy movies ever made. If you haven't seen it, then you don't deserve the penis you have.
Bubba Ho-Tep? I don't think you're watching it right.
Monkeyfilter: you don't deserve the penis you have
Schindler's List. I started crying- maybe a third of the way through. Could not stop. Still can't; seen it half a dozen times or more and it always affects me... then, several years ago during a visit to Prague, we took a side trip to Terezin (Teresienstadt)- one of the camps that was a last stop before Auschwitz. There is a small crematorium in the city, though this camp was not, strictly speaking, a "death camp"- but walking in and seeing the ovens - and then, on the threshold of one of them, a single red rose. I lost it again.
gotta post this before I lose it again, again.
More than a few comments here on the old MoFi have got the waterworks going for me.
Also,
...what kind of a sick fuck am I to be 50 years old and crying at the end of a goddamn animated movie about two fucking robotsa goddam rat who wants to be a chef, as in Ratatouille? In public, on an airplane yet.
I'll tear up at lots of sentimental movies, but for full-on sobbing, it takes a real life event or experience. Death of someone close, that sort of thing.
Finding Nemo, the scene that begins with Albert Brook's Fish telling the sea turtles his story and then it spreads from animal to animal, eventually reaching his son. Every time.
The Futurama episode Jurassic Bark has a decent chance too.
Have I mentioned how sexy the men of MoFi are?
*starts cutting onion surreptitiously*
*plucks a pube*
jesus, you're a bunch of pussies. no movie has ever made me bawl. plenty have made me tear up & get sniffy, but jesus!! what's wrong with you boys?
OK, if the other girls are invading I'll chime in, too. (What's a reverse panty raid? A boxers rebellion?)
Schindler's List. I started crying- maybe a third of the way through. Could not stop. Still can't; seen it half a dozen times or more and it always affects me...drhydro, I haven't had the emotional fortitude to go back and watch Schindler's List a second, because it reduced me to blubbering.
And now, let's all turn to page 367 in our hymnals and together sing Jesus, You're A Bunch Of Pussies.
Jesus you're a bunch of pussies,
God you are a lot of cocks.
Moses you're as gay as Queso,
Mary you're a total fox.
Jesus you're a school of fishies,
Swimming in the deep blue sea.
God made a bunch of sheepies
For Jesus' beastiality.
Jesus you're a pride of lions,
Pumas and tigers, too.
Medusa doesn't cry at movies
But she will pee on you.
Aaaaaa....Men....
I seem to have something in my eye.
*wipes*
get that dog some bananas, stat!
and pie. he definitely deserves some pie.
and no jokes about what type of pie from the peanut gallery!!
or perhaps some cake....
some FART CAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I cried, a little, at the movie Wall-E, when the little guy finally recovers from being crushed. My kids didn't see, though.
NPR has made me cry in my car a dozen times. Most recently was the first hand reports from China, just after the earthquake, when the parents were waiting to recover the bodies of their children from a wrecked school. The reporter referred to the children as "their babies."
Dammit.
*parts RTD where the good Lord split him*
*also, applauds*
*throws entire purse in collection plate*
Any news or entertainment involving sick, dying or dead dogs gets me. Or depictions of "tough guys" crying... The song "Coward of the County" by Kenny Rogers. I get teary more than my wife during movies, even though I KNOW I am being manipulated.
see also: this thread.
I never cry. I was lying about Puff The Magic Dragon. Do you hear me Medusa? I'll be in alone about 11pm. Knock twice.
Roryk:
I, too, find it interesting that these tough guys talk about tearing up during a movie scene, but none of them talk about the loss of someone they love, either by death, divorce, or break up; or tears of joy, such as during the birth of a baby or seeing a child graduate or be married.
What about after an argument with someone you care about, or after a close call (accident,) or a natu4ral disaster, as EarWax mentioned. (Dang, those China reports were hard to listen to)
I'll save the brim of my hat for when one of you fellas getting into some seriously deep emotion.
Hey, I find it easier to cry at a movie than real life most of the time. Real life doesn't usually have swelling music, perfectly calculated cinematography, etc. And during real life loss, I'm trying to be strong for other people.
Right. First, the "entertainment."
* Wall-E -- go figure. Didn't expect it.
* Jurassic Bark, and a few other Futurama episodes. Also, "Bender's Big Score" -- the whole Fry/Lars/Leela storyline.
* Happy Feet
Now, "real life."
* Chocolate cake.
By way of explanation, I'm lifting the following from a post on my blog because, well, I just can't bear to type it all up again. Please forgive the length. Background: I'd made my first chocolate cake from scratch and then decided to cook myself a meal to precede it.
"I threw a quarter-inch slice of ham in a skillet, then grated a potato for hash browns. Once the ham-steak was ready, I made gravy, another one of those things that I grew up on that I will never make as well as my mother. Finally, I had a plateful of sliced ham and hash browns slathered in thick, ham gravy, and I realized, with some surprise, that I had made myself a comfort meal. Real home cooking. A special occasion meal; a going-home meal. The sort of meal that precedes a home-made chocolate cake.
"And I suddenly wished Dad were still alive so he could have dinner with me. I wanted him to try my gravy and hash browns, try my chocolate cake, then tell me how far I had to go before I was as good a cook as Mom. I wanted him to tell me stories about the meals he ate growing up, the youngest of nine, with nieces older than him taking their place at the dining table in the tiny house his parents and siblings lived in. I wanted to chastise him for putting salt on everything before he even tasted it to see if it needed it. And I wanted him to tell me that I was a good cook, that I’d inherited something from his mom and my mom and, truth be told, from him, some quality, some skill that takes simple ingredients and makes something special and good from them. I wanted to sit across the table from him and eat a piece of chocolate cake, still hot from the oven, the frosting liquefying in the heat and running down the edges. I wanted to call him a freak for putting his cake in a bowl and pouring cold milk over it instead of slathering it with butter like any normal person. And I wanted to see his face relax in deepest bliss as he closed his eyes and savored that first bite of milk-soaked chocolate cake. I want all those things and know I can’t have them, know I’ll never have them again, know I’ll have to be satisfied with remembering them, savoring them, eyes closed, satisfied for the moment that this, this is all there really is."
So yeah. This is what makes me really cry. Like I'm doing right now. I'm rather wishing I'd skipped this thread.
Oh, dammit, now I'm going to cry.
these tough guys talk about tearing up during a movie scene, but none of them talk about the loss of someone they love
You want the truth? I can't handle the truth.
I can;t speak for the boys, of course, but isn't catharsis really the whole raison d'etre of art and drama? It allows us to process feelings that we may have trouble accessing and dealing with when they're actually happening to us.
Whenever real tragedy has struck, I've been far too busy and concerned about others to cry.
I'll save the brim of my hat for when one of you fellas getting into some seriously deep emotion.
Now, GranMa -- no bait and switch. What you said was:
If there's ONE serious answer here I'll eat my chapeau without gravy.
There was nothing about "seriously deep emotion", only a "serious answer". And, a number of us held up our end of the bargain by giving serious answers (even though we only had to supply one). As such, I see only two options for you -- welch on the bet, or start chompin'.
Yeah!
*Shakes fist at Gramma from behind Cappy*
BlueHorse wrote: "none of them talk about the loss of someone they love [...] or tears of joy [...]"
That's because those things are either too sad to want to revisit, or too joyful to want to trivialize much, I guess.
I could always contribute the bit where my mom died. I was 16. I had to deal with my 8-year old sister wondering all the way to the hospital if everything was going to be OK when I knew it wouldn't. Had to deal with my dad and younger brother falling apart, my older brother going cold and distant and immersing himself in college so he wouldn't have to deal with it. I had to hold everything together for everyone else. I mean, someone had to make sure that diner was made, right? Didn't have time to cry. Not until I was talking to my girlfriend months afterward, and just lost it and spent a half an hour bawling like a baby. She just let me cry. She didn't know what else to do. It was the best thing she could have done.
So of course I married her, and that was one of those joyful weepy days, when I looked at her and realized that she was finally my wife.
Now I get teary-eyed at things that remind me of my mom, mostly. Not so much "oh wow that reminds me of her" but more like "god damn, why did she have to miss this?" That is the kind of thing that doesn't heal, I guess, but it scabs over enough to let you live your life. Until something tears the scab off and rips you open again.
Most recent time I cried? When I realized that my wife really did want to try for a kid, after years of wondering whether she'd ever be ready. I expect when it does happen I'll get upset all over again. Because we'll be embarking on an entirely new phase of our lives, and because once again my mom will miss it - and that my kid won't ever get to meet the person that helped make me who I am. That will hurt, but it will be happy as well. So I'll probably cry like a baby again.
GramMa, how's the hat taste?
clf, thank you for sharing such intimate feelings so eloquently. I think bluehorse is going to be on a steady diet of caps & bowlers for a while ;)
mr. frogs, I have Sjögren's syndrome, and even I soaked a tissue reading that.
Yeah, like some around here, breaking up over the 'serious' stuff is a given. Luckily, I've had relatively few of those, regarding deaths in the family or close ones, and breakups, but they were hard, of course. And like others said, at the very moment of the conflict grief didn't find an easy outlet, i.e., after my father's death, what with all the arrangements and bureaucracy, it wasn't until a couple weeks after that one day I lost it, seriously worrying the person I was with at the time. 'This was just so unlike you'. Sheez, indeed.
And damn, malthusian. Right on the bullseye. One of the things that remind me of my father and the vacuum he left are those movies, those books, those new things and events I'd have loved to share with him, things I'm sure he'd have enjoyed.
my parents are still alive and in recent years I have probably had my best relationship with them and some of the most enjoyable times (they get along really wonderfully with mr medusa). you monks are making me feel very appreciative of that!
...or tears of joy...
I admit that I cried-in-joy at Leonard's first Montreal show back in June. Not a few tears of joy when he came onstage, and full-body sobs when he started playing "Raincoat".
I didn't want to say anything, because you all think I'm weird as it is. But I mention it just to get GranMa started on her new diet.
Hope the syndrome's not too severe, TUM.
It waxes and wanes along with the arthritis, but it hasn't really been a problem since the old punctal cautery.
Monkeyfilter: it hasn't really been a problem since the old punctal cautery.
MCT: I'm suffering from in-love-with-TUM-itis!
AUDIENCE: AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW...
KITFISTO: We'll be right back after these messages! And I'm like so gay and stuff!
Not trying to bring the thread down any there. Y'know the funny thing is I can laugh about it now. Mostly 'cause my mom would see the humor. Thanks to Mom I can laugh about damn near anything! She taught me well... but it did freak Mrs. Frogs out a bit the first time I told a "dead mom" joke.
These days, she understands better (after 18 years she ought to understand me!). Doesn't hurt if you're laughing, right?
you wanna know what makes me cry? Seeing happy couples and families of kids and knowing that's never gonna be me.
what kind of hat would like gramma? i have a couple old baseball caps you can gnaw on.
Yeah, I didn't cry when my dad died last year because I was the one who had to take care of everything - contact tons of relatives and friends I had no phone numbers for, book a flight, rent a car in strange city and drive across the desert at midnight to get to mom who was all alone, etc.
But yesterday, when I put my fourteen year old Bengal kitty to sleep, I was near hysterical. And I had taken a double dose of herbal tranquilizers 'cause I expected it was going to turn out badly when we started out for the vet's office.
And like several people mentioned, the times I miss my dad are when I run across something interesting (frequently on MoFi) and realize he's the only one in the world I knew who would also have thought it interesting.
MonkeyFilter: The place you go when no one else thinks it's interesting
...with apologies for the crummy sentence structure in all that...I'm still on a double dose of the herbal tranquilizers....
so sorry to hear about your kitty, fairywench! the death of a beloved pet is a devastating thing, I hope you find some comfort :)
Yeah, sorry to hear that fairy lady dude. I miss all the kitties I've spent time with. It's always worth remembering you gave them a happy, healthy and secure life, no doubt spoiling them rotten in the process, for which you should be praised. Take it easy.
Herbal tranquilizers...? Please expound.
Pot.
st. john's wort, chammomile, etc....
I saw the episode of Futurama mentioned above last night. Chalk one up - I was blubbering. It didn't help that there was an ASPCA commercial in the break.
Y'know, those SPCA commercials kind of piss me off. The kind of people who don't feel sorry for abused animals aren't going to send money either way, and the people who do feel sorry for abused animals are probably already doing something to help, and traumatising them with pictures of abused animals is just upsetting them for no reason.
kit, 1; cheesehead, 0
part of the reason I didn't cry during the mommy death scene in Bambi (I think I was about 10) is because I was watching it with my little sisters, who were in UTTER HYSTERICS over it, and I was kind of pissed off at Disney for creating such a sucker-punch, devastating scene in a children's movie that I was somewhat distracted by the sadness of the scene by my anger.
Monkeyfilter: I was somewhat distracted by the sadness of the scene by my anger.
And the other part: you have no soul.
LET'S PACE OURSELVES, PEOPLE. WE CAN'T ALL BE POSTING AT THE SAME TIME....!
Herbal tranquilizers = SAM-e. Interestingly, the only side effect I've noticed is it helps me focus - which is very useful when you have hard core A.D.D. like I do.
And thank you, kitfisto and Medusa. He was a sweet little Bengal kitty who thought he was a Rottweiler, and even people who claimed not to like cats would end up saying "except for that one!"
And why don't my links work? Bah!
SAM-e link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/S-Adenosyl_methionine
Bengal link: http://www.hdw-inc.com/ian1.htm
(The really embarrassing thing is, I design web pages for a living)
(It's your bog-standard anchor tag, fairywench. If you forget to close it with </a> in MoFi's crappy PHP setup, it strips out your URL.
RIP fairycat.
I've not got much to say except pass the pepper.
FFF and malthusan, your posts made me shut the thread and leave the computer the day I read them. You both left me in a welter of emotions. Sympathy for your losses and the shapes of your grief; empathy, because I lost my parents young; shame, because FFF called me out: things are either too sad to want to revisit, or too joyful to want to trivialize.
FW: I'm sorry you recently lost your furry friend.
Thanks to you MonkeyGuys for revisiting your sadnesses and recounting your special joys. Reading them humbles me.
Queso, pass that ball cap. Doesn't need salt, thanks.
*sniffs*
*hugs GramMa, and everybody in the thread*
Thanks, GramMa (May I call you GramMa?). I think it says something of MoFi that I felt...safe enough to post anything at all. I've been online almost constantly (many hours daily) for ten years, and this is the only site I comment on (and that irregularly). I may not always feel included in everything here (I visit too erratically to follow most threads to know what's going on most of the time), but I always feel welcome. That's pretty impressive in my book. I say spare the poor ball cap, if you haven't wolfed it down already.
Can I just say that this is our first 100-comment FPP since I don't know when?
I remembered today one movie that makes me cry every time: Chasing Amy.
At the end of Chasing Amy when Holden just waves at Alyssa and she waves back when he is leaving the comic con. Damn, I mean, EVERY time. Did I mention I went to see that with my wife the day we got married, like right after the ceremony. :) In 2004 we went to Kevin Smith's Vulgarthon down in LA at the Cinerama and he showed it there and again, waterworks. Fuckin' Smith. It was nice, though, that at the end of that Q&A for it this guy asked his girlfriend to marry him. It was very sweet. (And what was so funny was how misty eyed Ben Affleck look at that too. That guy is a sucker for romantic shit apparently, and we saw him later hugging and chatting with the couple.)
I got something in my eye last time I watched Ice Age.
I mean, ferfucks sake! Kill me now.
I'm kind of worried about my mom today. She's had major surgery this morning. All has gone well, but she's my mom and I'm worried. So I wrote about her and cried a little bit. Thankful for tall cube walls am I.
Aw. Luck to your mom.
Keep us posted, MCT. We're thinking of you both.
Of course you can call me GramMa, malthusan. All my little monkeys do*. Have a cookie, honey.
*pinches cheeks*
*when they are not calling me The Endurance Fairy, BlueHorse, or She-Who-Must-Be-Worshiped and-Obeyed.
Or that crazy gin-soaked old broad who keeps touching our bums.
Hope the MCT mum is OK. Sending out 'the vibes' right now.
Or that crazy gin-soaked old broad who keeps touching our bums.
I see you've already met my mother.
So far, so good. No complications during surgery, and she didn't have an overly adverse reaction to the anesthetic, which is unusual for her -- usually G.A. really fucks with her, particularly with her stomach.
According to my father's voice mail that he left while I was being a bad son and having a seven-course Italian meal and a bottle and a half of wine, she's been moved to a new room, which I take to mean a private one. That's a big deal, because her hospital's under renovation, so only the really serious cases or people with connections get them. My mom fits into neither group, but my dad's a pretty convincing guy, so.
Anyway, all's well so far. T-minus 96 hours and counting until Jack and I land on her doorstep and drink all her scotch. I will, anyway. Jack will be having the not-scotch. I'm really champing at the bit for this visit. I know she's fine, but still, I need to see for myself that my mom's okay.
I don't want to turn this into GYOBfilter, so this will be my last update here. Future updates will be to MOB, for those who care enough to follow.
No more cookies for you, kit! (or any of my gin, either)
MCT: What's a MOB?
my own blog
best wishes to Jack's gramma!
(almost...) Obama taking the oath.
...which surprised cynical old me a bit :-)
two fucking robotsa goddam rat who wants to be a chef, as in Ratatouille? In public, on an airplane yet.