Hazel . . .
Our original plan was a romantic, five star dinner in the Dillons Marketplace food court (that's a real thing, people, and it is where 54% of all Wichita-born babies are made) followed by Pitch Perfect 2 (don't judge us . . . don't. you. judge. us.).
We were having such a good time laughing over our cafeteria-style food that we, instead, opted to see the later-in-life romantic comedy/drama "I'll See You In My Dreams".
I'm really glad we had to "plan b" the movie component of the evening. I am not even embarrassed to admit that I found a dromedy about an older woman's struggle with being "alone" held my attention and my emotions for its entirety. Seriously, go see it - the trailer doesn't do it justice.
And - here's the thing - Blythe Danner (who, I'd like to point out is MORE than that pretentious, no-talent, ass clown Gwyneth Paltrow's mother AND, based on lineage, GP looks like HER vs. her looking like GP) is wonderful and all that but here is why I LOVED "I'll See You In My Dreams": HAZEL!
This isn't even a spoiler (so there is no need for a spoiler "alert") but in the third scene of the movie, Blythe Danner's character (Carol Peterson) has to euthanize her dog, Hazel. No, no. I'm not happy the dog is dead. Not at all. If I'm being honest, you could tell - even in the first few minutes of the film - that Carol only filled her day with three things . . . Hazel, white wine, and silk scarves. No one wants the only animate part of their day taken away.
BUT there was something about Hazel's death that had me pleased. as. punch.
As the dog lay on the stainless steel table and the veterinarian is explaining mercy killing to the already-morose Carol this woman behind us starts WEEPING. Audibly, sniffly, gaspily WEEPING. For a dog we have only just "met" in a fictional movie about fictional people and their dogs. In her heart, this woman KNEW that the director said "cut" and the dog got up and went home with his trainer. But she wept anyway. Just cried and cried and cried. She could not stop. Truly. She was beside herself and I was crouched down low in my chair laughing. Not at her pain but at her and the randomness of it all. AND at her complete inability to manage and maintain her shit.
I'll cry at a movie. I'll cry at many movies. I have movies I watch ONLY when I want to cry (Big Fish, The Hours, Police Academy 3, etc.) and I appreciate that people have different emotional cues than me.
But here is why I loved the moment so much . . . SLF turned to me and - without a drop of empathy in her voice said - "What's her problem? This isn't Marley at the end of Marley & Me." In that moment, I felt like I'd never really be alone again.