That Feeling When… Awestruck in Cinema
Isn’t there something uniquely powerful about that moment when a film just hits you? Not necessarily in a tear-jerking, plot-twist kind of way, but with a quiet, profound sense of wonder – an awestruck feeling that lingers long after the credits roll. It's more than just enjoyment; it’s a recognition of something truly special, something that expands your perspective or simply reminds you of the beauty and mystery in existence. And cinema, at its best, is capable of delivering that feeling in spades.
I think about The Blue Angels – not necessarily for any groundbreaking narrative, but for the sheer visceral thrill of witnessing those pilots execute maneuvers with such precision and grace. There's a breathtaking quality to it, a sense of awe inspired by human skill pushed to its absolute limit. It’s that feeling you get watching a perfectly executed magic trick, where logic momentarily suspends itself and you're just… amazed.
That same sense of wonder can be found in unexpected places. Madeleine, the short film, isn’t about a grand narrative; it’s about the fragility of memory, rendered with such inventive stop-motion and collage that it evokes a dreamlike state. It makes you pause and consider how much of our past is truly fixed, or if it's constantly being reshaped by time and perception – pretty heady stuff! I remember seeing it at a small film festival years ago, and I was just completely captivated by its visual poetry; it felt like stepping into someone else’s beautifully fragmented mind.
Then there's the more melancholic awe found in The Death of Michael Mouse. The concept itself is inherently fascinating – what happens to an icon when they’re no longer needed? It’s a poignant exploration of identity and loss, but also carries this underlying sense of wonder at the sheer longevity and cultural impact of Mickey Mouse. It's almost like looking up at a towering redwood tree and feeling dwarfed by its age and presence.
Even films that deal with darker themes can evoke awe. Death of a Unicorn, for example, despite its tragic premise, manages to tap into something primal – the enduring power of myth and the unsettling beauty of the unknown. And Baby, while unflinchingly raw in its depiction of survival, finds moments of quiet connection that are genuinely moving, leaving you with a sense of awe at the resilience of the human spirit.
Ultimately, that feeling of being awestruck isn’t about finding answers; it's about embracing the questions and allowing yourself to be transported by the power of storytelling. It's a reminder that cinema can do more than just entertain – it can inspire, challenge, and leave you with a sense of wonder at the world around us.
What films have left you feeling awestruck? I’d love to hear about them!
