Sunday, 24 February 2008

Cry Baby

Here is an oldish but excellent article in The Guardian by Charlotte Higgins on how blubbing at the theatre has somehow become a cultural faux pas. The theatre I can do without, but blubbing? My life would be severely limited if I had to avoid things that made me blub like the great Gazza.

· That Cancer Research ad with a muzak version of Sting’s Fields of Gold tinkling away in the background (yes, Sting, for Christ’s sake – Sting! Stun gun me now!).

· Come to think of it, any Cancer Research ad.

· Any programme that bears a passing resemblance to Children’s Hospital. I don’t have kids and don’t want any, but this doesn’t stop me howling whenever I have the misfortune to tune in to something like it.

· And talking of hospitals, how about Animal Hospital? Come to think of it, any programme that involves pet euthanasia...

· The Secret Millionaire – it’s weird (maybe because you don't see it on television very often), but basic human kindness in any form makes me grizzle like a four year old.

· There was a documentary some time ago about the children’s charity Barnardo’s. Within twenty minutes I was a complete emotional wreck and had to be helped from the room by a team of paramedics.

· Music – everything from Nick Drake to Kevin Drew is guaranteed to make me snivel and get all bunged up.

· Films? Don’t get me started – I’ll blub at anything and everything. Bambi? Check. Shrek? Been there. The Abyss? A big tick in the box. A Matter of Life and Death? The last time I watched it, it took all weekend to recover. Enchanted? I cried like a six year old all the way through it.

· England 24 – France 13. Yup, you guessed it – at the end of the game I cried.

All in all, you can guarantee that whatever the medium (theatre being the sole exception, where I think you need a good deal more ‘suspension of disbelief’ than with any other medium), I will blub on cue every single time: so much in fact so that it has become a standing joke at Chipster Towers. Whenever I sit through anything that might threaten an attack of the snivels, my wife always checks to see whether or not I’m misting up. And if I am, she has a damn good laugh. It’s also difficult to know whether or not I’m being emotionally manipulated, because I will basically cry at anything.

That said, I watched Ocean’s Thirteen the other night and cried most of the way through that - but not because it was a particularly emotional experience ;-)

9 comments:

Jonathan Edwards said...

Neighbours gets me about once a week yet I've sat stony faced through many "serious" dramas. And that song about Jessie in Toy Story 2! Don't get me started, I can feel myself filling up now....

Chip Smith said...

I watched Atonement last night, and whilst it's great, I didn't feel moved by it one iota!

But play me 'Fields of Gold' and I'll sob like a newborn. I guess I must be a closet Sting fan. If I am, then in the closet is where it's staying - I don't think I could take the shame.

Elinor said...

What is it with blokes? I'm off to Lucy's blog to talk about the new Rambo...

Chip Smith said...

Come on - everyone knows that under those increasingly unlikely muscles, Sly is a big girl's blouse (as well as being an inveterate mummy's boy) ;-)

Oli said...

Me and my girlfriend both cried last night during the end of Spaced (when the tank turns up and they play Take That...)

Lucy said...

Oh. Dear. God.

Chip Smith said...

Wassamatter? You afraid of all the manly men that hang out round here? ;-)

Lucy said...

Yeah. Shaking in my boots! I'll give you all a run for your money, I gave birth with NO PAIN RELIEF OF ANY KIND, man. Take that.

Chip Smith said...

I'm so overcome with your manly exploits Lucy, I think I'm gonna cry! ;-)