Cheering when the bad guy gets his head blown off? OK
But actually shedding tears?
To paraphrase Tom Hank's character Jimmy Dugan from "A League of Their Own," There's no crying at movies.
Or is there?
Imagine our shock when Rod pointed out that one of the foremost men's publications, The Sporting News, actually produced the list of the Top 25 movies that make men cry on one of its blogs.
Entries on the list include "It's a Wonderful Life," and "Dead Poet's Society."
But there are plenty of sports movies on the list as well.
Rod admitted to choking up in a few and I too must admit that the scene where Kevin Costner's character Ray Kinsella comes face to face with a younger version of his dad John Kinsella in "Field of Dreams," gets me every single time.
***
A side note here: John Kinsella is played masterfully by actor Dwier Brown, who you will see on lots of TV shows these days. And every time I see him in a show, such as a recent episode of "The Unit" on Ch. 11, I say, "Hey, that's Ray Kinsella's dad."
According to Internet Movie Database, he has been in more than 40 TV shows or movies. But I am willing to bet that his few minutes on screen in "Field of Dreams" are what everyone will forever remember him for.
I wonder how many people walk up to him and ask, "You wanna have a catch?"
***
Sure enough, just after Ray asks his dad that aforementioned question, I start balling.
It is then I flash back to memories of my dad being the only guy cheering me on when I played Little League. Which was kinda embarrassing, seeing as about all I was ever allowed to do was coach third base.
Growing up in the media business though, the old man would let me hang out with him as he called play-by-play of local high school baseball games. And because his radio station was an affiliate of the Astros, we got to hang out in the press box of games at the Astrodome.
That's where I learned the game from not only my dad, but from baseball writers and broadcasters like Gene Elston and Mickey Herskowitz.
It allowed me a far different perspective of the game than most. To this day, my dad will call me up during a baseball game he is watching on TV and give the play-by-play call to me over the phone.
Corny I know, but I rather enjoy it. It's how we connect.
Of course, while I am on the pouring my heart out mode, I guess I should admit there are other movies that get to me.
"Rudy." For much of the movie Sean Astin's character Rudy Ruettiger annoys me. But his stick-to-itness finally wins me over. So, when D-Bob -- played by Jon Favreau -- and Ned Beatty, who plays the dad, get all excited after Rudy recovers the fumble, I cheer and tear up at the same time.
The scene when Robert Redford smashes the homer in "The Natural" also always gets me as does one of the final scenes of "Saving Private Ryan," when the older Pvt. James Francis Ryan - played by the late Harrison Young (another actor with a long resume, who will be best remembered for a bit part) - turns to his wife at the military cemetery at Normandy and said, "Tell me I have led a good life."
Thank goodness, the closing credits for "Saving Private Ryan" are so long, because I needed them to just sit in the theater to compose myself.
As I recall, I wasn't alone as the credits rolled.
OK there, I admit it. I have cried while watching movies.
But I do believe there should be a man law on the subject.
I propose the following:
1) Guys can cry in movies that are sports or war related only
2) Scenes that can evoke tears must remind you of times with your dad or your war buddies
3) If the chick you are with at the movie cries, you must be the bigger person and show no emotion. You, however, are allowed to cry once you are alone.
Oh and a special caveat for those of you "whipped" members of the For Men Only world, (i.e. Married or in a serious relationship): You are allowed to cry in the theater if you are being forced to watch "Sex and the City." But they cannot be tears of sadness because Carrie's Manolo Blahniks are stolen. They must be tears of pain.
I plan to introduce this Man Law legislation when the Man Congress meets this Thursday night for one of our famed Smoke Ring cigar dinners.
I never cried at movies until 1992. I saw Old Yeller--didn't cry; I saw "Where the Red Fern Grows"--didn't cry. Then I got married.
My wife cries at LOTS of movies and somehow--as if infected by a tear duct virus, I now cry at movies. I can usually control it to a couple of tears leaking out--but I must say this---in the middle of "Life is Beautiful" I nearly broke into a full fledged balling fit.
I'm a wuss--another tragic side effect of marriage and fatherhood.
-Murphy
Lord of the Rings' Return of the King, where the newly crowned King and his lady walk up to the hobitts, who begin to bow, and he tells them that they "bow for no one," and everyone bows to them...There were guys tearing up everywhere...even me.
Are you kidding ME? 'Lord of the Rings?' C'mon, tell me your pulling my Angry Black Chain. I think it has finally happened. Perhaps men have connected a little too well with their feminine sides. (those that have them) I'm reminded of a time in my not too distant youth, (back when I was but a mildly irritated Black Man) when a roomate, after a half-dozen or so keg stands, confided in anyone who was listening at the time. He opened up and spilled his deep dark secret. "I cried like a baby during the first Robocop." The collective "Huh?" prompted him to explain himself. "In the beginning, when Murphy was dying. They all brutally ganged up on him. That poor man was in so much pain." WTF? I was incredulous. (Look it up DW) What kind of tofu-swallowing, female hormone laced soymilk drinking, cosmo gulping, unisex fragrance wearing crap is this? Whats next, apple martinis and oatmeal bubble-baths? Somewhere, Bear Bryant, John Wayne, Charlton Heston and most importantly, MSGT A.B.M. are rolling in their respective graves. In the words of the Great Chris Baker, one of my favorite local broadcast personalities of all time; "Butch Up Sallie!"
Forgive me for stating the obvious but, IT IS A MOVIE. Murphy didn't really die and become a butt-kicking cyborg. Hobbits ain't real and Lord knows Liv Tyler isn't an elf ( a fantasy yes, but without the pointed ears). The saddest thing about LOTR was that throughout the entire trilogy, there wasn't a single Black actor or actress who could be identified (Orcs, demons and trolls don't count). Am I the only one who can seperate entertainment from reality? I just don't get it. I enjoy movies, but I can't say that I've ever been moved to tears by a fictional character or situation. Now, I will admit that watching Malcolm X for the 40 or 50th time does stir up a little something. It helps me get in touch with my militant side. (The old man would be so proud)
The lovely Mrs. ABM also has a tendency to get "into" a movie. She once woke me out of a blissfully oblivious slumber because she had rented the Resident Evil DVD and it was scaring her to tears. Ever the gentleman, I came to the rescue of my beloved better half. "Turn the @#$%@$#%@^# TV off." (admittedly, not an EXACT quote, but you get the picture) Call me a Vulcan, but it seems to me that people who get excessively emotional during "entertainment" suffer from a complete lack of mental and emotional discipline. I just can't get there. I didn't feel bad for Fredo Corleone when he went fishing, he deserved it. (And it wasn't real) The story of Rudy didn't jerk a tear nor did the Titanic, I knew the ending before the movie started. Denzel Washington didn't die protecting a little girl in Mexico, instead he went and collected an overdue Oscar for one of his lesser performances.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not a robot. I do (occassionally) have feelings that slip out now and then. There are even things that do genuinely upset me. The cost of a good cigar upsets me. Oppressive smoking bans upset me. Recently the cost of Techron has almost brought a tear to my eye. (And I get nearly 30 mpg) The fact that Michael Moore is still competing with decent hardworking people for oxygen is quite unsettling. Tiger winning a 14th on one leg is an emotional moment. My old man looking me in the eye and prophetically saying, 'just be you, and the world will know that I was here' was a heart wrenching moment. Even more so now. Still, none of these events have reduced me to balling like my 10 month old nephew.
There was a time when men just didn't unleash the waterworks in public. Tape an aspirin to it and suck it up! If you're going to cry at a movie, let it be because it costs 40 bucks for you and date to share a bag of skittles, not because a tearful Tom told Rene, "you complete me."
Munching on popcorn with a heart of stone.
I remain,
IncogNegro
The movie that made me cry was "Blue Hawaii". Chad overcomes the hardships of life to become a success. It was a real tear jerker.
Dear A.B.M. I know what incredulous means. It is "ticked off" which at this current moment I am freaking incredulous because my masterpiece of a blog was taken down because I offended somebody. You of all people would have loved my blog because I said that "Blazing Saddles" was the only movie that a man can truly cry at. What most people won't understand is that you being a black man and me being a good Irish lad watch the movie at our beloved "Ring" and know all the lines by heart. I'm incredulous that people take themselves to seriously. I'm incredulous because men cry at movies, have no backbone, and in general have turned into the weaker sex. Our fathers and forefathers would be incredulous about the fact that we live in an America that won't let us smoke a wonderful hand rolled cigar while drinking a nice scotch or wine with a big slab of steak with the blood dripping out of it. I'm incredulous because we won't let our military fight a war like we train them too. I'm incredulous because we men have forgotten about 9/11, we men have forgotten about what both of my Grandfathers fought for in WWII. I'm incredulous because we men have forgotten what your Father fought for in Vietnam. My dear friend I know what incredulous means because we "Men" have forgotten what it means to be "Men". I'm incredulous because we men might pay child support but heaven forbid actually be involved in raising our children. We men have forgotten how to teach our sons how to be men. I'm freaking over the top incredulous because we "Men" are building a nation that will not afford my sons and your future children the opportunities that we have. I'm incredulous because I don't want my sons to have to pay for the past sins of us and our forefathers. Example: I will pay into Social Security for the rest of my life and never take any out as long as the burden does not get pasted onto my children. Will that happen, absolutely not, because we "Men" have become weak and do not have any clue of sacrifice. Yes A.B.M. I know what incredulous is.
With Militant Cracker Fist in the Air I stand beside my A.B.M.
D.
My dear friend DW (aka. D-dub, aka D-head Jr., aka Pale face, aka Whitey, aka Da Man, aka PISD valedictorian, aka Dirk Diggler, aka any other appropriate nickname that can be contrived);
My friend, I am not an overtly religous man, but Amen and Bravo!! I concur wholeheartedly with your sentiments. Not only that, compadre, I'm proud of you. Of course you offended someone. Guys like us who don't pull punches with our commentary and whose honesty cuts like a knife are bound to ruffle a few feathers. At times, we may even pluck them out. Truthfully, if you didn't offend somebody on a daily basis, I'd feel betrayed.
Cheers to you! You have officially been censored by the 'Powers that Be.' This event calls for a remembrance. To that end, I am conferring a solemn and coveted honor. By the powers vested in me as the Official Captain of Militant Action for the W.H.C. and duly appointed Token of Equal Opportunity for the 'Ring, I hereby dub thee; Sir David, A.W.M.
Congratulations on earning your Onyx Fist. May you bear it with pride and be ever mindful of its meaning and distinction. Your plaque and T-shirt are in the mail.
Purposely and perpetually terrifying the masses,
I remain,
IncogNegro
"I'm incredulous because men cry at movies..."
D.W. - sorry, I've been around the trailer park on Sunday nights when the home makeover shows come on. I don't think anyone in your clan can say anything about crying at the movies/tv shows/sappy old love songs, etc... For sake of family pride, I thought you'd avoid this topic like the plague...
This is pretty much the stupidest article I've ever read, but I can't believe you never mentioned
the Lou Gehrig story. I defy ANYONE not to cry at that.
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. THIS IS THE MAN'S BLOG. Therapy for TJ will begin on Thursday, Rod Ryan can come, and I will buy him dinner and a drink with a freaking umbrella. Are you kidding me, you raked me over the coals for going to a wedding and a funeral with a girl and whether it was a relationship or not.
It was called 'closing the deal.' Now, I get my Bro, my Brother in Arms turning out a blog with self-revelation about you crying at movies and how your Dad gives you play by play over the phone. I've met your Dad and think that he is a Man's Man and he calls the play by play for you because he has empathy for the fact that you sat in the chalk lines at third base and waved your hands and yelled "go home".
You have to get in the game brother. You can cry when Marlon Brando is talking to Martin Sheen in Apocalypse Now, "The Horror" or when Robert Duvall says "I love the smell of napalm in the morning, it, it smells like victory". You can cry in Smokey and the Bandit when the Trans Am jumps the river and you realize that the undercarriage is going to be completely shot. Now we have to get to the movie that allows men to cry the entire movie, and that would be "Blazing Saddles.” "Where the white women at?” that brings a tear to my eye. "But we won't take the Irish" (That's for A.B.M.), "Land...See snatch", that's a tearjerker.
Finally, the line that makes me weep like a baby and a philosophy that you need to follow in your upcoming blogs. The line comes from Kelly's Heroes "Why don't you knock it off with them negative waves?
Why don't you dig how beautiful it is out here? Why don't you say something righteous and hopeful for a change?"
You had better get a grip before we go to Vegas because this kind of nonsense is not going to fly. You'll be smoking a freaking Macanudo and going to see "Love". Therapy session will involve a 21-year-old scotch, a La Flor Chisel and a girl that we are putting through college who is younger than the scotch that we drink. I have to get this blog of yours back in shape somehow.
I'm calling on K.C., A.B.M., Chris G.
and the rest of the guys to get you straight. We smoke cigars, we drink scotch and Irish whiskey, we race cars and we put multiple girls through college, THAT'S WHAT WE DO. We don't cry at freaking movies.
We cry when a 1972 Lotus F2 hits a wall. We cry when a $15 dollar cigar has a plug. We cry out of joy when "Spider Mike" drinks the witches’ brew that I make and believes that it brings a hint of cinnamon in his cigar. We cry when Jenna Jameson retires. We cry when "Gravedigger" rolls over.
If this little conversation that we have just had doesn't get you straight I'm releasing the big dogs and we are taking a trip south with Jeffe.
Consider this an intervention.
Continued Tales from the Trailer Park.
D.
Long live Pink Flamingos and I'll see you at the #6 dance later on.
Jake,
The owner of the trailer park,(A.K.A. D***head Sr., Old Man, and best of all "The Man paying for Your Wedding") has called and requested that I reply to your comments. He would have done it himself but the string on the can broke between the traiers. His exact quote was "respond to that little s*** about his blog thingy" (I think I got that right). I will try to paraphrase his diatribe. Yes the waterworks do flow during home makeover shows. The Old Man says he has earned his right to cry at the TV. When you've been married 38 years let's see how you hold up. The man used to hit the golf ball 280 on the fly, killed deer with a bow and could weld anything above water. He could even carry on an intelligent conversation and figure out pot odds at the poker table. You can take the tallest and strongest mountain and over time the elements will wear it down. It's strength and grandeur will go away. That is what happens to a man after he is married. Right now you are the "King", you walk with your head held high. You have a beautiful woman who loves and adores you. You got it together. In the immortal words of Howie Long to John Travolta in Broken Arrow, "You're the Man Deke." Let's look back on these times in 38 years when Mother Nature (A.K.A. marriage) wears you down. Let's see how broad your shoulders are after the beat down that marriage will put on you. The only reason I don't cry and can talk my noise is because I bought my freedom. I cry when I watch "Divorce Court" because I realize another man is gaining his freedom. I know that your situation is different because you have a beautiful woman who will love you without question and will always be supportive and that you will never cry at "The Home Makeover Show". I tip my hat to you and proclaim that "you are the man" and I was out of line with my "Incredulous blog". For the record, the "Old Man" is back on track. His beautiful, georgous wife takes care of him (love ya Mom, and comments stated above about marriage have no reflection on the love and tenderness that you bestow upon Dad and I really like your french fries). He has a Ford Bullitt in the driveway and we are buying some Steve McQueen sunglasses, so the world is being realigned. For some reason his happiness is coinciding with you marrying Dee, go figure. I will leave that interpretation up to you on whether he is happier about gaining you in the family or that you are now responsible for Dee. We will revisit this conversation on 8/16/2046. How's that for a sobering thought.
With Blue Tux in hand and fist in air.
A.W.M.