Hollywood Is Working
Hard to Make You Cry
Several Movies With Scenes Primed to Unleash
the Waterworks Will Hit Cinemas Soon. But Getting Audiences to Cry is Getting
Harder.
By Don Steinberg in
the Wall Street Journal
These are happy days
for people who like to cry at movies.
Opening this weekend
is "If I Stay," about a cello-playing teenager who falls into
a coma after a car accident. In the hospital, Mia (Chloë Grace Moretz) has
flashbacks about winning the heart of Adam (Jamie Blackley), a super-cool boy
given to impossibly romantic lines.
At one point, timid
Mia goes to a party dressed like punk-rocker Deborah Harry in hopes that Adam,
who plays in a band, will like her more. It's hard not to choke up when he
tells her that the clothes don't matter: "Don't you get it? The you you
are now is the same you I was in love with yesterday, the same you I'll be in
love with tomorrow."
Coming this fall: more
opportunities to get out the handkerchiefs. "The Skeleton Twins,"
"This is Where I Leave You" and "Men, Women & Children"
delve into the emotional minefields of parents and children, fraying marriages
and estranged siblings trying to reconnect.
Over the summer,
viewers teared up at "The Fault in Our Stars," the story of
terminally ill teenagers Hazel and Gus (Shailene Woodley and Ansel Elgort).
"Fault," which opened in June, has brought in $124 million in the
U.S., making it the highest-earning teen-romance flick not powered by vampires.
"I have people
coming up to me on the street and crying," Mr. Elgort says. The
20-year-old actor is following up his role of star-crossed lover in
"Fault" by playing an anxious teenager in "Men, Women &
Children."
Audiences love
tearjerkers, but why? How do they work? Horror movies have their clichéd
"jump scares" that can get us every time—the demonic face in the
bathroom mirror, the knife-wielding maniac suddenly in the doorway. Tearjerkers
have triggers, too, but they are more complex, wrapped up in how characters
make us feel, with their awkward attempts to connect with each other, their
bravery and fears, regrets and unspoken burdens. Other hot-button themes are
faith redeemed, struggles rewarded and love requited.
Filmmakers say there
is no surefire trick to make viewers cry but certain techniques help. And since
audiences have seen it all before, it's not getting any easier.
Some tearjerkers made
years or decades ago are still vivid. Think of "Terms of Endearment,"
in which Shirley MacLaine's overbearing character clashes and ultimately
reconciles with her dying daughter, Debra Winger. Or "Jerry Maguire,"
where Renée Zellweger interrupts Tom Cruise's attempt at reconciliation by
saying, "Shut up, just shut up. You had me at hello."
Crafting a scene that
touches emotions is "not about putting the sugar in the sauce. It's about
every ingredient and decision that you make," says R.J. Cutler, who
directed "If I Stay." The movie, like "The Fault in Our Stars,"
was adapted from a young-adult novel. Before shooting "If I Stay,"
Mr. Cutler says, "I read the book again to identify the moments that moved
me, and I made a list of those moments."
One such moment
unfolds when Mia's normally stoic and critical grandfather breaks down at the
comatose girl's bedside, saying how proud he is of her. It works, Mr. Cutler
says, thanks to a mix of story context, dialogue and the casting of Stacy Keach
in the role of Gramps. All those factors help the viewer relate and feel moved.
"The power of the
emotion comes from the fact that Gramps is fighting the emotion as much as
possible," the director says. "We know Gramps, in the parenting of
his own child, was unable to connect emotionally. Not a man of many words. You
want to cast a man for whom that seems to be true."
Then technique comes
in. "Part of the strength of the scene is that there's no music in
it," Mr. Cutler says. "What the moment needed was no embellishment.
And there's a camera movement that is done there and nowhere else in the film,
which is this extremely slow push in that gets tighter than we are pretty much
in any other moment—a sustained, single shot that pushes in on Gramps to a very
tight close-up."
That shot with no cuts
builds the tension and the reality—the audience doesn't get a break.
Shawn Levy did
something similar when directing "This Is Where I Leave You." In that
film, which opens in September, adult siblings including Jason Bateman and Tina
Fey return to the home where they grew up to comfort their mother (Jane Fonda)
after their father dies. In one scene, Mr. Bateman's character, who has lost
his job, tells his mother he thinks his father would consider him a failure.
She says: "Your
dad didn't love your job. You were his boy… As far as your father was
concerned, the sun rose and set on you and your siblings."
"And we hold on a
close-up of Jason," Mr. Levy says. "You see his eyes just thicken and
fill, and the rims of his eyes go red and the tears come. A lot of times an
actor will work himself up to tears... and you call 'Action' and they're
crying. But it's a rare thing to see it happen in real time from zero to 60
within the take. There's no respite. You are with that character in real
time."
Mr. Levy accompanied
that scene with moving music by Michael Giacchino, who has scored films
including Pixar's animated "Up."
"Music is a key
tool. But it has to be used judiciously," Mr. Levy says. "The score
needs to accent the emotion, but if it underlines it too boldly the audience
feels overtly manipulated. Music actually needs to be subliminally
manipulative."
Craig Johnson, who
directed "The Skeleton Twins," about siblings (Kristen Wiig and Bill
Hader) who have grown apart, agrees. "You have a music cue that comes in a
little bit overwrought, suddenly you're in melodrama territory," he says.
Mr. Levy says it is
crucial not to overdo the sentimentality. "I remember as a theater student
at Yale, the teacher once said if you cry for yourself too much the audience
won't cry for you," he says. "The character can't be too self-pitying
because then we don't pity that character. That character is doing our job for
us."
This explains why
watching characters contain their emotions while braving adversity—like Tom
Hanks enduring a pirate hijacking in "Captain Phillips" and Sandra
Bullock surviving a space-shuttle disaster in "Gravity"—can be
powerful, especially when these characters finally let themselves give in. As
viewers, we hung tough with them and we release with them.
Researchers are
applying science to answer questions about movie-induced weeping. Princeton
University psychologist Uri Hasson, who coined the term "neurocinematics,"
led a 2008 study that used a type of magnetic resonance imaging to study brain
activity while watching a film. The researchers used "The Good, the Bad,
and the Ugly"—hardly a tearjerker—in their project. Mr. Hasson and his colleagues
identified similar brain activity among people watching the same film, and
suggested such research might be useful for the movie industry.
In emotion-research
labs, one clip that has become standard is the death scene in the 1979 boxing
film "The Champ," a remake of the 1931 movie. A young Ricky Schroder
weeps inconsolably over the body of his father Jon Voight, wailing "Wake
up, Champ!" Viewers cry, too. The film has been cited in hundreds of
scientific papers.
Scholars also have
studied why some scenes strike a chord with women and others affect men more.
In "Sleepless
in Seattle," Rita Wilson gets misty describing "An Affair
to Remember," while Tom Hanks counters that he cried at the end of
"The Dirty Dozen." Mary Beth Oliver, a Penn State professor who has
studied tearjerkers, asked students to propose movie ideas designed to make men
cry. "There were a lot of father-son kind of things," she says.
"There were a lot of athletes. There were a lot of war films."
When asked which films
choke them up, many men cite depictions of against-the-odds valor or
understated affection, like "Rudy," "Brian's Song" and
"Saving Private Ryan." Women name relationship dramas like
"Steel Magnolias" or "Beaches" or "When a Man Loves a
Woman," in which Andy Garcia tries to preserve his marriage to an
alcoholic Meg Ryan.
Men and women may sob
at different parts of the same film. In "Gravity," some women react
when Ms. Bullock, while stranded in space, talks about her daughter who died in
childhood ("Can you please tell her that Mama found her red shoe?").
Men may be more stirred by the dénouement, when the astronaut, having survived
her journey, walks triumphantly ashore.
A 2008 Stanford
University study found that complex emotions can arise when we are reminded of
the passing of time. One illustration is in "The Notebook," where
Gena Rowlands, stricken with dementia, hears the tale of two passionate young
lovers from an aged James Garner. Just for a moment, Ms. Rowlands' character
remembers their past together.
Some tearjerkers pack
a powerful punch by compressing characters' lives. Think of the heartbreaking
opening sequence in "Up," which takes Carl and Ellie from childhood
to old age in about 10 minutes. Or this summer's "Boyhood," which was
filmed over 12 years and literally shows children growing into young adults.
What parent doesn't feel a pang watching childhood flash by in less than two
hours?
"When I'm in a movie,
what usually gets me to cry is identifying with a completely vulnerable human
moment," says Jason Reitman, director of "Men, Women &
Children." "As a filmmaker, if I want a moment to land emotionally,
the key is for it to be completely truthful."
The Stanford study
emphasized "meaningful endings"—the sense that a phase of life is
coming to a close. Such moments can be anything from the relatively familiar
sight of a father dancing with his daughter at her wedding to the scene near
the end of "Good Will Hunting" when Ben Affleck goes to pick up his
best friend Will (Matt Damon) and he isn't there. Realizing Will has moved on
from their shabby neighborhood to pursue bigger and better things, Mr. Affleck
just smiles wistfully.
Tom Lutz, author of
"Crying: The Natural and Cultural History of Tears," says we
sometimes cry watching movie characters behaving in storybook ways that we may
feel we can't match in our real lives.
"I watched
hundreds of these films trying to figure out where the flashpoints were, what
it was that got us crying," he says. "It started to seem to me that
it was the moments of perfect role fulfillment.... Nobody is a perfect son or
daughter, husband or wife. These [movie] moments are a combination of perfect
aspiration, sense of failure, sense of impossibility, guilt. This incredible
mix of emotions gets stirred up, and that's what ends up making us weep."
No comments:
Post a Comment