Adoration

The Complicated Beauty of Adoration: When Love Gets…Intense

Okay, so let’s talk about adoration. Not just plain old “I like you,” but that deep, consuming, almost worshipful kind of feeling. It's a powerful thing in life, isn’t it? And cinema—being the mirror it is to our human experience—has explored it with varying degrees of beauty, discomfort, and downright obsession.

Think about Bliss, for a moment. The film doesn't present adoration as some fluffy fairytale; instead, it reveals its potential to be entangled with trauma and distorted by past experiences. The husband’s intense focus on “fixing” his wife's issues, while seemingly stemming from love, borders on an almost unsettling need for control—a misguided attempt at proving his worth through her fulfillment. It’s a sobering look at how even the purest intentions can be warped when adoration isn’t balanced with understanding and respect.

But adoration isn't always twisted. Consider films like "Roman Holiday." Audrey Hepburn’s Princess Ann, yearning for just a taste of normal life, finds herself captivated by Joe Bradley (Gregory Peck), an American reporter who embodies that carefree joy she lacks. It's not necessarily romantic love at first glance – it’s a deep adoration for the idea he represents: freedom and spontaneity. It’s less about him as a person and more about what he signifies to her.

Interestingly, this concept echoes in something seemingly very different like "Amélie." Amélie Poulain's whimsical world is fueled by an adoration of small joys – the perfect cup of coffee, the kindness of strangers, the simple beauty of Parisian life. This isn’t directed at a person, but it shapes her entire worldview and motivates her acts of secret generosity. It's a charming, almost childlike form of devotion.

What I find fascinating is how frequently adoration gets explored as something that needs to be earned. We see it in films like "The King’s Speech," where Lionel Logue’s unwavering belief in George VI—a quiet, unassuming sort of adoration—helps the stuttering monarch find his voice and confidence. It's not a grand romance; it’s a patient, supportive admiration that unlocks something powerful within another person.

Ultimately, “adoration” on film isn't just about swooning and romantic gestures. It’s about the profound impact we have on one another—the ways in which our belief, our attention, can shape who someone is. And sometimes, it serves as a stark reminder that even the most beautiful feelings need to be handled with care and understanding.

What are your thoughts? Have you seen any films that really capture this intense form of devotion? I'd love to hear them!