associated in random thought

why i needed to see superman returns

this afternoon, a newly emancipated helen and i decided we had to see superman returns tonight, if only to do something in celebration of the completion of her first summer term. martini joe happened to be outside as she let out the pups before we left, and he decided he'd like to go too.

and so the three of us packed into the car, and headed over to the alamo, where we would be guaranteed draught beer, and good food, as we enjoyed the movie.

as the opening credits rolled, and the john williams familiar theme kicked in all strings and brass, my chest tightened. my eyes welled up with nostalgia and ache. after all, it's superman! i grew up on these movies. by age four, i had joined the legion of children around the world who sported oversized towels tucked into collars. i jumped from high places with arms confidently in front of me, hands balled into hopeful fists. standing at the top of our house's fifteen stairs, i even prayed that jesus make me be able to fly. after all, by faith, i could have whatever i ask, right? kenneth copeland told me so.

ask the members of the legion if you're not sure how my prayers were answered: bruised knees and a cape confiscated by my mother. the seed of doubt was planted in me, too. why could i not move things with my mind like luke skywalker? why could i not fly? why could i not raise roadkill from the dead?

oh, but i forgot my doubt when i watched christopher reeve do his thing. i watched the first two movies everytime they were on cable, which seemed to be every day in the mid eighties. i rooted for the love affair with margot kidder. i got all twitchy down there when they finally hooked up in the fortress of solitude. i had dreams of being superman cuddled up with lois lane in that fancy silver waterbed.

all of these fantastic memories came back to me as i watched superman returns. brandon routh is no christopher reeve, but he's on his way to becoming this generation's viable superman. kate bosworth is no margot kidder, but i still rooted for them, even though james marsden seems to be a martyr of a perfect boyfriend.

anyway, i found myself weeping through much of the movie. silly? sure. but why was i weeping at all? definitely, the absence of my father's running commentary of the movie was palpable, especially with martini joe, who is so much like him, seated next to me. (my dad always had something to say about what made gene hackman such a great lex luthor, or how that christopher reeve kid was going places.) the majestic score woke up the wonderment i used to experience every time i watched the earlier films: that i was a hero, i was important, and if i tried hard enough, i could probably even fly.

it's been nearly six hours since i left the theatre. my heart rate has slowed back to its mundane pace. but i still think i shed a few "important" tears, as opposed to just getting sappy over a long lost childhood movie character. the consensus? my long-dormant memories are more than snapshots of a baseball and apple pie childhood. when it came down to the simplest of matters, i put my whole being into the essence of the superhero: i truly trusted jesus to make me fly someday. i was attracted more to lois than superman, and knew even then that such an attraction was wrong. and so i quickly changed my story from i want to be with lois lane to i want to be her.

it took nearly twenty years, but i got to sit near my own lois lane at the movie tonight. and i may not be able to fly, but i do have my driver's license.

Posted by bananie at July 1, 2006 2:07 AM | TrackBack