Ode to The Straight Story

I guess you could call it tears therapy. Or cinema therapy. Either way, it's also part two of my Arts-in-Grief "newsletter": 

The movie "The Straight Story." 

(Part one: my mourning musical soundtrack).

It, too, has played a role in mourning my father. Or maybe pre-mourning? (Precocious mourning? The term for the mourning you're in before the death? Will see if there's a specific word ... there is! 'Anticipatory grief.' But maybe also Pauline Boss's 'ambiguous grief'?). 

You could say watching the movie, which first came out in 1999, was an exercise in controlled mourning. 

It's an extremely simple film, old-fashioned in many ways (no special effects, limited use of soundtrack, straight-forward cinematography), but one of the best I've ever seen. 

It's the story of an older gentleman living in the Midwest (and played by the absolutely fabulous Richard Farnsworth) who knows the years left to him aren't infinite so he sets out to see his estranged brother (played by Harry Dean Stanton; Sissy Spacek plays Farnsworth's daughter in a way that will break a part of your heart before the rest of the movie breaks what remains of your heart). 

I re-watched it over a series of weeks last Fall. I wanted to be alone with my grief while I watched it, which meant daytime viewing, so I consumed the movie in snippets, when I had time -- and when I felt the need.

When I first saw the film, years ago, I don't know the moment in the film that tapped my tears -- perhaps simply the end. I only know during this most recent viewing, I cried the entire time, knowing how the film would culminate. That simple final scene is so powerful (I won't say anymore to avoid spoilers -- the trailer wisely avoids showing it). 

I actually thought quite a bit during the days surrounding my father's funeral about the fate of those who are estranged from loved ones; when those loved ones die, I would imagine the grief must be almost insurmountable because there were no intermediate moments to attenuate the loss.

The irony: the copy of the movie I watched in the Fall is one I'd bought for my parents. They never watched it. Maybe they didn't need it. They weren't truly estranged from anyone. Just maybe their former selves -- and aren't we all?

Neither here nor there: I hate the phrase 'retail therapy,' but that's probably just because I hate shopping. Cinema therapy, which I find comes in handy after sleepless nights, sounds much better. 

Last thought: if anyone reading this is estranged from someone, watch the movie and see if you don't think it's time to reconcile. Especially if it's a sibling or a parent where simple misunderstandings and disagreements (exacerbated by ego) have caused the rift.

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