Sadly, I was raised in a generation where men were expected not to cry, including at the movies. Okay, technically, boys were allowed to cry at exactly two movies: Old Yeller and Brian’s Song. I never saw Brian’s Song but boy I did cry at Old Yeller. I remember sitting in the back seat of our white Mercury at the drive-in theater in New Orleans as the tears flowed.
I’m older and wiser now but my history still means that it takes something significant to bring on a tear at a movie. I take notice when a movie inspires other people in the audience to cry. The first time I remember a significant portion of an audience crying was in 1985 at The Color Purple. Sure, that movie had a cry-worthy ending but it took Spielberg hitting us in the guts for two hours with everything he had. A brilliant Quincy Jones soundtrack, a compelling story, and two major plot twists that were not in the book (spoilers: Shug reuniting with her estranged pastor father and Mister paying for Celie’s sister return from Africa). With all of that intense emotional effort, the audience and I were in tears. As I walked out into the bright lights of the lobby, I turned back to watch the faces of people – even macho football types – walking out with red eyes and wet cheeks.
Watching The Color Purple in a theater was an amazing experience and I waited for another tear-worthy film to appear again. But it didn’t for a long time. Sure, there were some movies that made me and a few people tear up, but not an entire audience as far as I remember.
Then 24 years later, all that changed. I remember sitting in Pixar’s classic Up. The audience and I settled into our seats and prepared for a nice predictable family movie. The trailers ended and Up started with those first 10 minutes – wow, those first 10 minutes. We were sitting in the middle of a full theater and the gentle sound of tears and sniffs came from every direction. The audience and I lost it.
But why did it work? The percentage of people crying can’t be explained just by those who have experienced the regrets of old age, faced childlessness, or lost a spouse. I heard little children crying. Maybe there were themes below the surface that touched us all. Time slips by faster than we plan. Sometimes we remember promises that we neglected to keep. Melancholy. Regrets. What a setup for the hope that pays off much later in the film. For me, it was the epitome of good storytelling. It made people relate to characters by tapping into our own feelings — and then, somehow, tears were okay.
The Elements of Simple 