Skip to main content

Movie Arguments Aren't Real

I love a good movie argument.

I was watching "Hitch" a few days ago.  During a speed-dating session Hitch and his potential girlfriend, Sara, are arguing about a misunderstanding.  She (wrongly) thinks that he set her friend up with a guy, Vance, just so he could get laid.  Once Hitch realizes the misunderstanding, he leans across the table, already on his feet, and with the attention of the room yells back at Sara, "Vance is a pig, and I refused to take him on as client!"  This was followed by her stunned silence and Hitch stalking out of the room, righteous and wounded.

It's the kind of argument that everyone wants to have, but probably never will.

I've had enough arguments with Dave to know this by now.  Even the times when I think I'm going into an argument lily-white right with both barrels loaded, I never have a clean get-away.  There's always, every single time, a way I am wrong or something I didn't think of.  I have never gotten a chance to make a profound conclusive remark, stomp my Prada heel, dump my dirty martini on his head, and leave the room.

So how come it happens so often in movies?

We project into our stories what we want, like happy endings.  And we like being right, and dramatically publically perfectly so.

But also, movies aren't as complicated as real life.  After they stalk out of the room, they cut the scene instantly to two weeks later when the heat has blown over and they're finally figuring things out.  In real life, you have to sit through every hour of those two miserable weeks, and the plot line of your life doesn't make promises about the resolution like a romantic comedy does.

And while that righteous moment would be awesome, there's a price to pay for it.  Because you get to be right...but that's not the real goal.  Being right doesn't mean you're resolved.  That vindictive moment is a false ending, because if things are going to get worked out, there's inevitably more to come.  And Hitch may have been right when he left the room, but I'll bet my bottom dollar he felt like crap as he walked out.

In the real world, I have to give up my stalk-out rights.  Many is a time I've wanted to turn up my nose and turn my heel, but I know.  I know better than that.  There's a sigh, and a feeling of rolling up your sleeves; and it's definitely not as gratifying as throwing your cocktail in someone's face.  Heck, if that's all it took, I'd carry around a martini glass with me wherever I went.

But real arguments are less like a flying mixed drink and more like a pair of beers at the table.  You sit down.  You talk for a while.  You get to the bottom of the bottle and feel better, feel closer.  It's low on glitz, but highly effective.

But, regardless, I still love a good movie argument.

Comments

Interesting you put it that way. I was listening the the radio this morning and they were interviewing Ted Dekker, author of several good books, including the Circle Trilogy, Black, Red and White. I highly recommend them if you've never read them. He just wrote a new book called Green which both goes before the Trilogy and after the Trilogy. An extremely new concept. I set all this up to say that while he was talking, Ted Dekker made the comment that fiction is always perfect. And non-fiction, real life, never is. The beauty of non-fiction is its imperfection. The beauty of fiction is the perfection that provides us an escape. Hitch is fiction. Hitch is perfection. Throwing a martini on someone's head is perfection. Sitting down over two beers and having a long painful argument is imperfection. It is real life. It is the stuff non-fiction is made of. I love how you put this, and how interesting that I came across it the same day I heard this conversation on the radio...
~heather said…
man, he really summed that up well, I like that. And it is interesting that you ran into both on the same day :) I'm glad you liked it

Popular posts from this blog

The First Stages

2 days ago I had a coffee date with the girl "in charge" of the house I'll be moving into this Sunday. Snuggled down in a sweatshirt over a white chocolate mocha during a drizzly afternoon we went over last minute details to make sure she and I were on the same page. As we wrapped everything up, she told me to wait and dashed to the car; coming back in with a polka dot gift bag I had only eyes for what lay behind the curled red ribbon tying the two handles together: two shiny silver keys. Inside the bag was a beautiful red journal and a heap of candy from all the girls to welcome me into the house, but I couldn't get over the feel of those keys in my hand with fresh cut grooves. I marveled at the sight of them threaded onto my keychain as Sarah Brasse's eyes danced from across the table. I looked up, feeling the warmth of the mocha spread from my abdomen to my fingers and toes and the ends of my hair. "It's real, isn't it?" I said. "It's

The Core Four

What a wonderful delight - the Core Four are back and typing about their lives. Nothing makes my day quite like reading a fresh entry - or two even! - from Tricia AND Traci AND Jans. Nothing compares. Especially Jans; that was what, a two, maybe three month difference between entries? It made me sad, but I checked as often as I thought of it. What a tremendous treat to click your link and find my name invoked in the first sentence - I'll be on a high from that for hours to come. To the rest of you wondering what names I'm referring to, check on my links sidebar; the three of them and I used to live in three different cities and two different states (now three cities and three states), and our little-traveled blogs kept us connected. These girls are the reason why I started writing a blog at all; it's hard to imagine that I once was the worst at updating consistently...now I can't get enough of it, and I run out of stories to tell (which is saying alot for me...) We all

I Watch You Smile - You Steal the Show

Anyone ever see "Mean Girls" with Lindsey Lohan? When she was pissed off, she suffered from a symptom she dubbed "word vomit". Hers was the result of her convulsing anger, but I have a different word vomit. Mine is basically the result of my vocabulary and emotions upchucking at the same time. I'm not quite sure what to tell you guys; what's appropriate to say, what you don't need to know, what's too much to tell you. This is probably gonna be a pretty long entry, which might scare you off, but after hearing my unusally discouraging tones I have no doubt that many of you are now riveted. I guess...you guys love me and want to know me, and for some, this is the only way you keep up with me. I'll figure out the limit as I go, I guess. I had a very good talk with my momma today, which is a good sign for our relationship. It was violently and starkly splintered for quite a while, but it has progressed in leaps and bounds lately as I've better und