The second thing that reminds me of my father are films, particularly Westerns. He rarely watched movies, only becoming aggravated by the display of ‘filth’ and ‘degenerate’ behaviour depicted in modern day cinema. I have always loved film but he hated my favourites. Apparently, they were ‘vulgar’ and ‘common’ choices (just how I would sum up Lord of the Rings then!).
I hated watching films with my father. As a child, he often took me to the cinema. I remember seeing ‘Father of the Bride’ for my tenth birthday with him and friends and ‘Jurassic Park’ with him as an excited eleven year old, hiding behind his arm at each sight of a dinosaur. There are two visits to the cinema that stand out the most.
My father took me to see this at eleven years old. He loved this film and all that it stood for. It was a hard done-by father, desperately trying to keep and maintain his children’s love whilst their cruel mother kept him as far away as she could,. It gave him subtle but dangerous ammunition to use with me against my mother at a very early age, often telling me how similar our life was to that of the characters and how my mother would stop him from seeing me. Obviously, it had the desired effect.
My mum hates that film.
I saw this film on our trip to America in 1998 aged sixteen.
I did not want to be in that movie theatre watching what was classed as a romantic film with my father. Sitting watching another story about a father’s love for his daughter being so powerful and so strong that he was prepared to lose his life so that she could marry the love of hers, only left me feeling depressed and alone even more than I already was. Sitting next the man who I was realising would never sacrifice a thing for me was just too much to endure.
I never went to the cinema with him again. I could not let him destroy my one true escape.
“People sometimes say that the way things happen in the movies is unreal, but it’s actually the way things happen to you in life that is unreal” – Andy Warhol.