I did not cry - it was just the champagne that made my eyes wet...

Seeing as this has now been bandied about all over facebook and Rob is busy telling his own version of events I may as well use my own blog to set the record straight. To put this into context I have never cried at a film – other than with laughter of course. Then the tears can be seen streaming down my face. Disbelieving folk have challenged me to watch various films sometimes purely because they wish to dis-prove my theory that I cannot be moved by moving media, others are of the opinion that I am somehow missing out having never experienced the emotional joy of tears from a film.

            I watched Marley and Me for this reason. I didn’t cry although I was sorely miffed that I had wasted two hours of my life watching what simply amounted to a tale of death at the end of a long, full and very happy life. This is what happens to dogs. It is to be expected and, whilst I would have sobbed my heart out at the passing of my own old and faithful hairy friend – remember I spent two hours collapsed in a heap at the top of my drive mourning the untimely deaths of my chickens – I do not expect other people to share my grief. I might desire sympathy but I would not suppose that others would wish to watch two hours of rather ordinary doggy tales to get to the fact that my dog died. That said, the bit where Marley is trying to escape the moving car is funny – you could watch the film up till that point if you really were interested.

            Titanic is another example of a film that could not bring about tears. Before you even go to the cinema you do, after all, know the ending – so unless you’re expecting to see the version where a Hollywood director sees fit to play with history and simply have the great ship sailing merrily all the way to New York with celebration drinks on the other shore you are aware that at some point the boat will sink and most of the crew and passengers will die. It is the mark of a good director that they are able to take a well-known story and still insert moments of surprise – in this case a very rich young woman (who is betrothed to an even richer though rather angry man) falling in love with a poor Irish boy. From this moment on you realise that one of the lovers will die (they won’t both die – that would make an even more ordinary film). If the film hadn’t opened with the old woman and her necklace then you may have been on tenterhooks to see who lives. But it does, so you’re not.

            On Friday we decided to drink champagne as a pre-dinner drink, partly because we’re out of cider and partly because it seemed a good idea. We then had some Bordeaux with dinner and settled down to watch The King’s Speech. This is a fabulous film, well-deserved of its awards and I am certainly not going to give any tongue-in-cheek review. I loved it and intend to buy it. The actors, screenwriter and director have managed to take a story (where again you know the ending) and render it ‘edge of your seat’ stuff – and emotional too.

            What came as a shock to me was the moment where the king returns to the speech therapist’s rooms and gives him (throws almost) his shilling back. At precisely this point water came out of my eyes. Now for someone who doesn’t cry at films this was strange. For such a person also to have champagne inside her it was hard to deal with. What I would normally have done is realised I must hide this fact from Rob and would have managed somehow to brush the water away whilst looking like I was wiping my nose or scratching my cheek – that would have made sense. Instead (and please excuse my blasphemy) I said,

            ‘Oh my God, I’m crying…’ and then proceeded to laugh hysterically for ages – we had to pause the film.

            I was not crying of course, I just had wet eyes on account of having a virus all week. After all – if I were going to cry at a film – I would at least pick a part that is sad. Whoever cried over a shilling?

            I shall be back later with a lovely little dessert you can make when you really crave cheesecake but just haven’t got the time – I’ll be washing it down with a nice bottle of Gevrey-Chambertin and avoiding champagne.