27 July 2007
The O Blog
)Published on July 27th, 2007 @ 10:33:02 pm, using 790 words, 380 views
Where do hugs come from? Picture a child’s curiosity behind that question. Sparkling eyes looking up at the prospect of an unveiling - yet another little piece of the world revealed.
That’s sort of the way I’ve always looked at movies…
…with those same wide spongy eyes. Movie hugs, for some reason, have always held special interest, making certain movie experiences haunting ones. The open-endedness of a hug, I guess… the way it binds two people together leaving little room for outside understanding. The image of it, yes, understandable as a display of affection, a pretty common one at that… but not necessarily what goes on inside it… the warmth of it, the feelings that rise from the bottom of one’s soul and ripple their way outward to find an obstacle in skin. The perseverance of certain hugs, the beauty of that ‘never giving up,’ fighting their way through skin, through movement to reach another’s warmth, to mix and melt with it, that striving to deposit something that cries to be shared.
I’ve always been enamored with movies, attracted by photography and fascinated by hugs. Meaningful hugs… hugs that speak volumes and eventually fade to black leaving their haunting memory fresh on your mind long after you rejoin the world.
The complicity in Lost in Translation. That undeniable yet unspoken connection between two people that grows with every thought shared, every detail revealed, every feeling held back until one day it manifests itself as a bubble that envelops them in their foreignness, binds them together a long way from home and shuts everything else out… binding them literally together in the streets of Japan.
The understanding in Where angels fear to tread. The understanding of differences and of sameness, of the growth that drives people apart and makes them unsuitable for one another. The understanding that being from the same place doesn’t necessarily translate to being in ‘the same place.’ The understanding that makes them see beyond themselves, to ponder how they wish things had or hadn’t been.
The tentativeness in Before Sunset. The ability of nine years’ time to wear the guise of a barrier. The gall of nine years’ time to make one feel uneasy, to lower the volume of that which speaks louder.
The utter heartbreak and dignified desperation in Dreaming of Joseph Lees. A slow growing, careful yet ultimately urgent embrace of loss and resignation, of nobility and self-sacrifice, of acceptance and regret, of two people meant to be together who find that they can’t.
Browsing at a bookstore a while ago, I came across a book of movie posters. On the last page, there was a picture of the hug in Reds. An eternal hug that was - immortalized by still photography. The kind of hug I’d like to be a part of. The significance of it, the pained and weary expressions, the announced tears, the relief, exhaled at the sight of an oasis of comfort… the illustration of a homecoming.
I stared at that picture for 10 whole minutes and I felt a pang.
First hugs can be tricky. Awkward. Tentative. But those that have everything to be perfect, like ours, are owed an extra effort. That first hug has got to be whole. Not just a fraction of a hug like people give each other every day. Not just a perfunctory hug tainted by shyness. It should be a no holds barred hug. Not a hug made artificial by an overestimation of politeness. It should be an embrace of depth, oblivion and abandon. (…) Recognition has its levels. Everything is in line to be recognized. Voice, appearance, gestures… When those things are not immediately recognizable, a wall is likely to go up. (…) What we’ve got to do is overcome whatever inhibitions manage to get through the sieve and into the fragrantly sweeping mixture that is this intimacy of ours. Whatever inhibitions survive the translation from virtual to real… from typed words to sounds… from blushing icons to trembling bodies. We need to sink into that moment. Let ourselves be commanded by instincts alone. Sink into the bottom of our hearts so as to not let the newness of that first moment blind us into second guessing what’s already there, that long row of possibilities that stretch as long as the eye can see into a possible future, all those bricks so magically laid.
(A Visible Feeling – by Iris Watts Hirideyo & Stewart Osuisu Hirideyo)
Ibyaya
Click here for the latest addition to my list of favorite movie hugs (Waitress)
Damien Rice - Amie/O
This post is the creative work of Iris Watts Hirideyo and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
Hugs, movie hugs, Lost in translation, Before sunset, Reds, bubble, sharing, connection, magic
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