We have a beautifully restored theater in town. It attracts live performances as well as wonderful, independent movies. Playing now is “Boyhood”, an American coming-of-age drama, written and directed by Richard Linklater. It’s remarkable because it was filmed, with the same cast, over the span of 12 years.
I’ve been meaning to go see it, but haven’t found the time. Tonight I watched the trailer to see what I’ve been missing:
I got about 8 seconds in and I broke into tears.
I can’t go watch this movie. I have already lived this movie twice. I do not need to pay money and sit still for 166 minutes and be painfully reminded that I’m going to do it again.
I am living Boyhood.
As I brush my teeth, I turn and see the backs of two scrawny 7-year-old boys in their Scooby-Doo unders, arms draped around each other’s neck, shoulder blades sticky out at sharp angles, talking to each other into the mirror.
These are the babies that I rocked to sleep simultaneously while drinking in their milky scent, feeling their delicious weight on my lap. It all happens in such slow motion, that when I take a moment to stop the wheel, I’m a bit shocked to see what has unfolded right in front of me. As John Lennon said so eloquently in Beautiful Boy, (Darling Boy): “Life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans.”
Yes, I know that is what this movie is about. I know what happens next. I do not need to be reminded, thanks very much.
I want to stay right here-where their gangly limbs have yet to grow muscles, their big teeth don’t quite fit their faces. I want to stay in this place of giggles and need. I don’t need to watch it all change in a little over 2 hours, no matter how big of an endeavor the film project was.
The real-time minutes are moving too fast as it is.
“The only way to make sense out of change is to
plunge into it,
move with it,
join the dance.”