Beautiful Thing

I just finished watching Beautiful Thing, a lovely little gay movie about two British lads who fall in love. I really forgot how much I liked it. The reason for that is probably because I haven't seen it in 10 years. I remember the first time I watched it. I was still in school and stayed home the day, not because I was sick but because I needed a break from getting the shit scared out of me. I camped out on the living room floor and watched it on M-NET in the 11am timeslot. I was 15 or 16 and I think it was probably the first gay movie that I ever really watched. I'd seen others before, but this was the first one that really meant something to me.

I posted on Twitter as I started watching it what a feel-good movie it is... but I realised that's not exactly right. It isn't really a feel-good movie at all, except for the ending and the funny bits in between. In a way it's a rather tragic film because it deals with real issues and real characters, but does so in a way that doesn't leave you gnawing at your wrists. It also really opened me to the possibilities and the reality of falling in love, because for the first time I saw two ordinary, every day boys fall in love like every other teenager does at that age.

I think I appreciate the movie now much more than I did when I was younger, perhaps because the subtle nuances are more understandable to me now that I'm older. That and I also have a much better appreciation for British humour now. But back then it meant a great deal to me. It was before I'd gone out and discovered the "gay world". And, although I was never really in the closet, it was before I felt safe enough in myself to stand up and tell the world that I'm gay.

But I was lucky, because my parents and my family always supported me. And although their were some religious questions around it, I never for one minute felt they didn't love me. If you're one of those people who are luckily to have had that, even if it was just one family member who loved and understood them, then bless them and always be grateful for them. Because for every person that's accepting, there's a hundred more that's rejecting. For one heart that manages to stay whole, a hundred more get broken.

And it's not easy at that young age, because we carry it with us. The wounds form scars and change our personalities and the way we react to people. How different would we be as people if we all had the chance to heal properly...

Avatar

Last night I went to see Avatar with a group of friends. And, like almost everyone else, I felt compelled to blog about it afterwards. But I'm not going to write a long piece about it here because this entry on Kim's blog pretty much says it all.

It was the first movie I saw in 3D, so that was quite impressive (if a bit confusing at times because I didn't always know where to look). The movie didn't feel long at all that long to me; it passed quite quickly. I don't really enjoy long stretched out movies in a cinema, but I was quite engrossed in this one so the time flew by. It was visually stunning and beautiful. I love Sigourney Weaver, and her character was my favourite in the movie. I was a bit apprehensive that it would turn out to be Pocahontas in Space, but even though there are lots of similarities, it didn't take away from the message for me.

I don't just watch movies to pass the time; I watch movies because they always make me think about something, remind me of a lesson I'd learnt but forgotten, or offer me a different perspective. There's a lot to be taken from Avatar if you look beyond the action and the stunning cinematography, but what stayed with me the most was the Na'vi's greeting: "I see you." It doesn't simply mean that they physically see you, but it means that they understand you, that they see into you.

Isn't that a great way to greet someone? To not just acknowledge their physical presence with a simple "hello", but to let them know that you really see them, understand them and recognise their presence in your world and in life. I wish we as humans could learn to do that.

But it's a two-way street. We'll never be seen if we don't let ourselves be seen.