Those of you (okay, so there are only about three of you that read this, anyway, but still) that are Facebook friends with me have surely questioned the validity of my deluge of messages/statuses/creeds re: Rachel Getting Married and my nearly 0bsessive multiple viewings thereof.
1. I am in no way exaggerating; if anything, I'm diminishing the amount of times I've watched it/thought about it/stared longingly at the cover.
2. I am more or less okay with that.
I've watched it six times since last Thursday, and I saw it six times in the theater. I'll be up to a baker's dozen by Friday, I'm sure. And the reason this is different than me mocking the people who did/have done the same thing with The Dark Knight is that Rachel Getting Married isn't a cynical cash-grab taking advantage of an established property in order to triple its box office. Rachel gets better with multiple viewings, while Dark Knight ends up collapsing under the weight of its own self-importance. If you like it, that's fine and I'm glad that you have something you enjoy so much; it's hard enough to find things that connect at all, let alone resonate on such a deep level as it has seemed to. I guess that my issue comes from people ignoring smaller things like Rachel Getting Married or In Bruges or Iron Man (just kidding [kind of; it was better]) at the expense of repeated viewings.
Then again, I still haven't watched Slumdog Millionaire, because whenever I go to do so, I end up re-watching Gran Torino or The Wrestler. I should make a shirt that says "True Irony" with an arrow pointing up to my stupid contradictory face.
"I've tried to have a life outside of going to the movies an unnecessary amount of times, but who the fuck am I kidding? I'm a geek and a misanthrope. The only time I find human interaction remotely appealing is when I'm telling the girl at the concession stand I don't want any butter on my popcorn."
But I don't need you to save me. I don't need any of you to save me. I don't particularly need saving, at least not in the way that so many of you have tried. These things that I constantly turn to to make all of the racket from the outside go away or at least quiet down? They are not character flaws, they are not quirks, they are not even eccentricities. They are simply coping mechanisms. Rachel Getting Married gave me what I needed to deal with a simultaneously broken engagement/lost employment/homelessness, and nothing about that will ever change. The movie tapdances on every soft spot of me that never gets acknowledged, let alone stimulated, and it's a cyclonic summary of everything that can be felt in the human experience. It's future nostalgia, a chance for me to look ten, twenty, forty years down the road and say, Billy Pilgrim-style, "Wasn't that nice." It's reminiscence on events that have yet to occur.
I don't want to be someone's distraction from the Real World. I want to be someone's Real World, to whom everything else is a distraction. Substantial difference.
But it's like I told Sam when we were talking about the histories: I still love you. I still love all of you.
What a month.