My Father's West Side Story
Posted 05-19-2012 at 09:44 AM by KatieGal
I was reading in a dentist office magazine that Hollywood is going to release the movie [I]Titanic[/I] in 3-D format. I want no part of it of a 3D [I]Titanic[/I]. For me, it’ll always be a 2-D movie. I first saw the film at the optimum age for emotional impact, I was not quite 14 years-old. Like all my friends, I could hardly wait to see it and be transported into the powerful but tragic romantic story. Three of my girlfriends and I set aside a Saturday evening for a trip to the multiplex theater where [I]Titanic[/I] was being shown.
My father had heard about [I]Titanic[/I], but he too had never seen it. I thought it odd that he seemed unconcerned about this oversight. In fact, he actually asked me if I were contemplating seeing the movie. I probably rolled my eyes at the very stupidity of the question. “Geez, yeah,” I would have groaned. “Me, Elle, and Jen are going to see it on Saturday.”
On Friday, the day before my eagerly awaited [I]Titanic[/I] viewing, my father told me he had something he wanted to show me. It was a movie he thought I should see. I had no desire to waste my Friday evening watching some dumb movie my father happened to like. Fridays were for going to a school basketball game, or hanging out at the mall with my girlfriends. I certainly did not want to sit in front of a TV and watch some lame movie. But my father said that if I did not like the movie in the first fifteen minutes I could leave and do whatever I wanted. Well, he was my father, so I grudgingly agreed.
Anyway, after dinner on that Friday evening I followed my father into his den. Dad had about fifty VCR tapes lying around, some in their cases, some just lying around loose. But Dad did not select any of those tapes. Instead he removed a videotape container from a desk drawer. He popped open the case and extracted the tape. Obviously he had a high regard for the recording. He turned on the TV, slipped the tape into the VCR, and pushed the PLAY button on the remote. I flopped impassivity into a chair as my father left the room.
The movie began with a kind of surreal rendering of New York City’s skyline. After a two note human whistle, a flood of beautiful but intense orchestra music burst out of the TV speakers. Obviously the film was not some old, low-budget Western of my dad’s. A few moments later, with the music growing in power, the camera passed down through the tall buildings, down to New York’s dirty streets. Then, suddenly, there they were, the street gang Jets, snapping their fingers to this edgy music and looking for trouble. Okay Dad, I’ll stick around for a few minutes.
I was in for the long haul when the male romantic lead, Tony, sang the wonderful “Something’s Coming”. I wondered; that “something” is a girl, isn’t it? “[I]Something’s coming, don’t know when but it’s soon, catch the moon...” [/I]A girl, right?
Of course the girl was Maria, a young woman with ties to the Puerto Rican Sharks, the Jets rival gang. The couple meets for the first time on a dance floor where only Maria and Tony stay in focus. All the other dancers become blurred. For Maria and Tony, it is love at first sight.
Tony left the dance following a gang argument, but his heart belonged to the beautiful Puerto Rican girl. A moment later, on the damp, dark, New York streets, Tony sang the romantic “Maria”. “[I]Maria… say it loud and there’s music playing… say it soft and it’s almost like praying…” [/I]To me the song wasn’t about Maria. It was really about me. As far as I was concerned, the song might just as well been called “Katie”.
All Maria and Tony wanted was to be allowed to love each other. But of course they were from two different gangs, and there would soon be gang killings, so any love was impossible. I did not know that at first. I had hope.
The movie’s ending emotionally brutalized me; Tony dying in Maria’s arms after being shot by a Shark gang member. I was utterly devastated. It hurts still just to write about it, to remember Tony collapsed on a sidewalk and looking up into Maria’s grieving eyes as his life slips away.
With tears coming down my cheeks, I watched the movie clear to the end, right through the end credits and the beautiful music score that accompanied them. When the tape ended I bolted out of the den, by my father, and right out the front door. I needed a walk around the block just to compose myself. When I came back inside fifteen or twenty minutes later, my father asked me how I liked the movie. “It was, you know, okay,” I replied quietly. But I think he knew what it did to me. He knew.
The next evening I saw a great movie, [I]Titanic[/I]. I loved that movie. But when the screen went dark at its end, a walk around the block was not required. I'll bet Dad knew that too.
My father had heard about [I]Titanic[/I], but he too had never seen it. I thought it odd that he seemed unconcerned about this oversight. In fact, he actually asked me if I were contemplating seeing the movie. I probably rolled my eyes at the very stupidity of the question. “Geez, yeah,” I would have groaned. “Me, Elle, and Jen are going to see it on Saturday.”
On Friday, the day before my eagerly awaited [I]Titanic[/I] viewing, my father told me he had something he wanted to show me. It was a movie he thought I should see. I had no desire to waste my Friday evening watching some dumb movie my father happened to like. Fridays were for going to a school basketball game, or hanging out at the mall with my girlfriends. I certainly did not want to sit in front of a TV and watch some lame movie. But my father said that if I did not like the movie in the first fifteen minutes I could leave and do whatever I wanted. Well, he was my father, so I grudgingly agreed.
Anyway, after dinner on that Friday evening I followed my father into his den. Dad had about fifty VCR tapes lying around, some in their cases, some just lying around loose. But Dad did not select any of those tapes. Instead he removed a videotape container from a desk drawer. He popped open the case and extracted the tape. Obviously he had a high regard for the recording. He turned on the TV, slipped the tape into the VCR, and pushed the PLAY button on the remote. I flopped impassivity into a chair as my father left the room.
The movie began with a kind of surreal rendering of New York City’s skyline. After a two note human whistle, a flood of beautiful but intense orchestra music burst out of the TV speakers. Obviously the film was not some old, low-budget Western of my dad’s. A few moments later, with the music growing in power, the camera passed down through the tall buildings, down to New York’s dirty streets. Then, suddenly, there they were, the street gang Jets, snapping their fingers to this edgy music and looking for trouble. Okay Dad, I’ll stick around for a few minutes.
I was in for the long haul when the male romantic lead, Tony, sang the wonderful “Something’s Coming”. I wondered; that “something” is a girl, isn’t it? “[I]Something’s coming, don’t know when but it’s soon, catch the moon...” [/I]A girl, right?
Of course the girl was Maria, a young woman with ties to the Puerto Rican Sharks, the Jets rival gang. The couple meets for the first time on a dance floor where only Maria and Tony stay in focus. All the other dancers become blurred. For Maria and Tony, it is love at first sight.
Tony left the dance following a gang argument, but his heart belonged to the beautiful Puerto Rican girl. A moment later, on the damp, dark, New York streets, Tony sang the romantic “Maria”. “[I]Maria… say it loud and there’s music playing… say it soft and it’s almost like praying…” [/I]To me the song wasn’t about Maria. It was really about me. As far as I was concerned, the song might just as well been called “Katie”.
All Maria and Tony wanted was to be allowed to love each other. But of course they were from two different gangs, and there would soon be gang killings, so any love was impossible. I did not know that at first. I had hope.
The movie’s ending emotionally brutalized me; Tony dying in Maria’s arms after being shot by a Shark gang member. I was utterly devastated. It hurts still just to write about it, to remember Tony collapsed on a sidewalk and looking up into Maria’s grieving eyes as his life slips away.
With tears coming down my cheeks, I watched the movie clear to the end, right through the end credits and the beautiful music score that accompanied them. When the tape ended I bolted out of the den, by my father, and right out the front door. I needed a walk around the block just to compose myself. When I came back inside fifteen or twenty minutes later, my father asked me how I liked the movie. “It was, you know, okay,” I replied quietly. But I think he knew what it did to me. He knew.
The next evening I saw a great movie, [I]Titanic[/I]. I loved that movie. But when the screen went dark at its end, a walk around the block was not required. I'll bet Dad knew that too.
Total Comments 0
