Amos Posner at 2012-07-20 13:36:02:
A couple years ago, I took my nephew to his first movie in-theater. He was four. The movie was Toy Story 3. Some time in the movie's third act--which was pretty rough, you may recall--he started leaning in really close to me while holding my hand. I asked him quietly if he wanted to sit on my lap. He nodded, clearly scared. From then on, I could physically feel every time he shuddered or laughed. I could actually feel when his heart beat faster.
It reminded me of the power of movies and the effect they can have on people. It also reminded me that for all people bemoan violence or horror in movies, one of the beautiful things about moviegoing is that it's a safe place to experience un-safe things. No matter how much peril my nephew viscerally experienced, he was going to be OK no matter what. That's a precious thing at any age.
That's what makes an already unspeakable act even more heartbreaking to me. Anyone who reads this blog, or even sits through the commercials while eating over-priced snacks before a bloated blockbuster, knows the cynical side of movies. But movies and moviegoing are also still wonderful things.
The most important thing here is that people lost their lives--people that "just wanted to see a damn movie" as Morgan Freeman tweeted--and that others lost family and friends. But for it to happen in a place that means safety to me makes it even worse somehow.
In my tiny little corner of the world, today was supposed to be a very happy movie day. Today we lock picture on my first feature. We're waiting for last little notes and doing a quick pass on the sound right now. But there's no way for this day to not be a heavy hearted one, and no way for our lighthearted little movie to not feel unbearably insignificant. My thoughts are with all those close to the shooting.