markg wrote:
Two words for anyone who thinks Disney films are too sad, Watership Down. Kids have it far too bloody easy these days.
Yeah, we're not allowed to talk about Watership Down.
One day 'Bright Eyes' came on the radio at work, so I took my headphones out as it makes me feel a bit sad. Chloe noticed and came over to ask if I was Ok as I was a bit sad. I told her yes, I was fine, I just thought that the song I was listening to a second ago was a bit sad and so might go and make a cuppa. she asked which song. but didn't know it. I said it was the association with the film, which she also hadn't seen. She asked why it was sad.
So I told her all about the adventures of these brave rabbits, and about the land being developed, and the seagull, and the peril of crossing the road and those awful dogs. Anyway, I did tell her it was beautiful, but that right at the end Hazel has been telling the story of his adventures to all of him many offspring, and is laying in peace, in the sun, with small bunnies all playing happily around him, when the black rabbit beckons him 'you've been feeling tired, Hazel'. Man, writing it makes me cry. Look, I'm crying. Seriously, there may be something wrong with me.
Well... I get to that pint and then I start to cry, telling her about him falling asleep, and his little rabbit soul chasing the black rabbit ver fields as if he was in his youth,, and then the soar of the music as his little soul spins around and the animation turns into a few oak leaves. Well big globby tears happened (then and now) so I look like I am having a break down over the recollection of a film.
Then the big boss comes in, sees me in some distress, and asks wha has happened. I manage to squeak 'Watership Down' before bursting into tears and having to leave.
The big boss is perhaps the most emotionally flat person I have ever seen and I don't think he understands it in others, so that's why he things I am mad.
I can't remember if I was pregnant when this happened. I have a funny feeling I wasn't.
Also: the scene in Land Before Time when the mother of the young diplodocus (or brontasaurus, I can't remember now) dies. Then her little one keeps seeing her in clouds, and things like that. Then he sees her afar in the sunset, and he is so, so happy, and he runs up to her and licks her leg in happiness, but it is just a dry wall, where he saw his own shadow, made so big and like his mummy by the setting sun.
I'm crying my flipping eyes out here now. I sometimes wonder if there is something wrong with me. I've just had to wake my little baby boy up to give him a cuddle because of writing this.