Reader's guilty pleasures part two, or 3:10 to Yuma
I wrote once on my slightly shameful reading preferences: which pairings, no matter how ludicrous, make my slasher's heart happy, and why. The strong tendency for unrequited love could be easily discerned, with a striking exception of Rincewind, whom I wish only the best and the most requited. ;-)
Another one of my emotional kinks may not seem so tame in comparison, though it's probably the oldest and the strongest of them all. It certainly precedes my fascination with slash, my penchant for unrequited-ness and even my love for underfed longhaired protagonists, which I've been declaring at least since I was eleven. It's a hero's death.
I love my protagonists heroic. I love them martyred. Therefore I love it when they die. It's that simple.
To clear matters, I have nothing against a well set and well structured happy ending, be it a conventional happy ever after with two children and a dog; a properly executed vendetta (lone ranger riding away into a sunset); a hearty rescue; war ending; a kiss; or even a nicely conducted farewell.
But, frankly, when is the hero the most heroic? When all the odds are against him. When his struggles are the most altruistic and moving? When he has no hope and perseveres notwithstanding. And what could epitomize his heroism more than the undeserved bitter end?
Erm. Did I scare anyone off? 'Cause it's been that way for me since I was about seven. The best heroes ever were those shunned, suffering, and - preferably - dying in the end, with little to no recognition. Oh, and they should accept that AND still keep going on heroing. ;-) Strangely, the gloom and doom and angst have never been that much required. The best hero was either a calm and accepting one, or a fiery desperado, charging against the prevalent odds with a smile on his face. Not caring about one's wounds is of course the prerequisite.
To delve deeper into this madness: I fiercely love a so called ironic death - by accidental/purposeful friendly fire, treason, misunderstanding, ricochet, or even simply by the "too late" factor. The more (superficially) undignified the death, the higher probability I'd love it. It even doesn't need to be prolonged; when done right, a simple bullet with no slow-motion effects is perfect, although I won’t refuse a nicely choreographed drama if it’s not hysterically overdone.
For instance the famous death scene in Stone’s Platoon tears my heart off every time I see it, but 95% of deathbed scenes with the hero(ine) parting his/her last words to gathered weeping crowd makes me nauseous or worse - prone to ridicule it.
Wherefore the issue? I watched 2007 version of “3:10 to Yuma” last Saturday and it brought me to my knees. The movie pushes all of my buttons so deftly that it as well could have been hand-customized exclusively just for me. The movie combines neatly the action genre (I’m a gun-loving girl) and the moral parable.
It has ambiguous characters, both appealing and appalling, who gradually uncover their hidden motives. It has a slasher’s dream: a strong bond growing between our two heroes during their hardships; the bond which will force them to redefine their loyalties and motivations.
There’s a first-class snake charmer, well-mannered and pleasant, who sees through everyone’s noble façade and uses people’s own nastiness and weak points against them. There’s a taciturn, weary man, who would sacrifice everything for his family, and who can’t be bought, though he certainly knows how to bargain for what he feels is right.
There’s a power play, and temptation, and gratuitous killings and explosions, and a bridal suite on top of everything. ;-) Not to mention Dan Evans’ haunted eyes, gaunt face and his stubborn determination.
Besides how I could not love someone who calmly answers his wife’s plea: “Don't do it. No one will think less of you.” with “No one can think less of me”. Such kind of humbleness almost borders on hubris, doesn’t it? And I still find it frigging sexy.
(Umm, did I say that half-starved, rugged and dead-tired look suits Christian Bale the best? He’s the most breathtaking when on his knees. Just saying.)
The final sequence left me gasping. Yes, there was a death scene. There was a death scene so beautiful that I’m not even ashamed I liked it. Despite some suspension of disbelief required (the chase to the station), the structure was impeccable - not one emotion amiss, not one string false.
Go, watch it.
An eye candy:
Another one of my emotional kinks may not seem so tame in comparison, though it's probably the oldest and the strongest of them all. It certainly precedes my fascination with slash, my penchant for unrequited-ness and even my love for underfed longhaired protagonists, which I've been declaring at least since I was eleven. It's a hero's death.
I love my protagonists heroic. I love them martyred. Therefore I love it when they die. It's that simple.
To clear matters, I have nothing against a well set and well structured happy ending, be it a conventional happy ever after with two children and a dog; a properly executed vendetta (lone ranger riding away into a sunset); a hearty rescue; war ending; a kiss; or even a nicely conducted farewell.
But, frankly, when is the hero the most heroic? When all the odds are against him. When his struggles are the most altruistic and moving? When he has no hope and perseveres notwithstanding. And what could epitomize his heroism more than the undeserved bitter end?
Erm. Did I scare anyone off? 'Cause it's been that way for me since I was about seven. The best heroes ever were those shunned, suffering, and - preferably - dying in the end, with little to no recognition. Oh, and they should accept that AND still keep going on heroing. ;-) Strangely, the gloom and doom and angst have never been that much required. The best hero was either a calm and accepting one, or a fiery desperado, charging against the prevalent odds with a smile on his face. Not caring about one's wounds is of course the prerequisite.
To delve deeper into this madness: I fiercely love a so called ironic death - by accidental/purposeful friendly fire, treason, misunderstanding, ricochet, or even simply by the "too late" factor. The more (superficially) undignified the death, the higher probability I'd love it. It even doesn't need to be prolonged; when done right, a simple bullet with no slow-motion effects is perfect, although I won’t refuse a nicely choreographed drama if it’s not hysterically overdone.
For instance the famous death scene in Stone’s Platoon tears my heart off every time I see it, but 95% of deathbed scenes with the hero(ine) parting his/her last words to gathered weeping crowd makes me nauseous or worse - prone to ridicule it.
Wherefore the issue? I watched 2007 version of “3:10 to Yuma” last Saturday and it brought me to my knees. The movie pushes all of my buttons so deftly that it as well could have been hand-customized exclusively just for me. The movie combines neatly the action genre (I’m a gun-loving girl) and the moral parable.
It has ambiguous characters, both appealing and appalling, who gradually uncover their hidden motives. It has a slasher’s dream: a strong bond growing between our two heroes during their hardships; the bond which will force them to redefine their loyalties and motivations.
There’s a first-class snake charmer, well-mannered and pleasant, who sees through everyone’s noble façade and uses people’s own nastiness and weak points against them. There’s a taciturn, weary man, who would sacrifice everything for his family, and who can’t be bought, though he certainly knows how to bargain for what he feels is right.
There’s a power play, and temptation, and gratuitous killings and explosions, and a bridal suite on top of everything. ;-) Not to mention Dan Evans’ haunted eyes, gaunt face and his stubborn determination.
Besides how I could not love someone who calmly answers his wife’s plea: “Don't do it. No one will think less of you.” with “No one can think less of me”. Such kind of humbleness almost borders on hubris, doesn’t it? And I still find it frigging sexy.
(Umm, did I say that half-starved, rugged and dead-tired look suits Christian Bale the best? He’s the most breathtaking when on his knees. Just saying.)
The final sequence left me gasping. Yes, there was a death scene. There was a death scene so beautiful that I’m not even ashamed I liked it. Despite some suspension of disbelief required (the chase to the station), the structure was impeccable - not one emotion amiss, not one string false.
Go, watch it.
An eye candy: