Not all movies make me cry. I’m not necessarily a major weeper, but if a movie or a TV show strikes just the right chord, then my tears are a melody of all my feels.
That being said, there are some movies that make me cry more than most – and make me cry every time I watch them. This is one of those movies. (Beware: there are obviously spoilers.)
If you have absolutely no idea what movie I’m talking about, that’s completely understandable.
The first time I heard about Brooklyn is when my friends and I accidentally ended up at its red carpet premiere in London on our way to see Suffragette. I mean we didn’t end up on the red carpet. We ended up with a crowd of people pushed up against a metal barricade wondering who everyone was waiting for. And then we saw the giant posters and caught a glimpse of Saoirse Ronan and stood around casually for a bit longer wondering if we would see Domhnall Gleeson.
That Irish ginger stole our hearts.
I blame About Time. I mean, before he was Tim, I watched him in a hilarious sketch where he plays a women’s clothing store employee who not-so-quietly recreates X-Men scenes under his breath (watch it, it’s perfection), but his character in Richard Curtis’ cry-fest was adorable. And then his interviews are equally adorable. So when we realized he was going to be in a seemingly adorable little film about an Irish girl moving to America and being caught between two homes, we knew we had to find it.
The only problem is this adorable little film really is quite little, as in indie, as in was only showing in select theatres that we couldn’t find for months. Cineplex kept toying with us about the release date and then finally I saw that it was going to be in theatres on Christmas Eve and we knew we had only a short window to watch it before it disappeared forever.
And we were not disappointed.
It’s a perfectly lovely film. It’s honest and sincere and simple. And Domhnall is of course endearing (much more endearing than his character in the latest Star Wars I might add). But this movie made me cry because of Saoirse.
She perfectly captures the turmoil of homesickness and loneliness and culture shock as she tries to come to terms with living apart from her mother and sister and you’re rooting for her to feel at home, to feel some kind of belonging. And she meets a nice Italian guy and he’s just lovely to her. And it all seems to be going well.
And then you see her mother go into her sister’s room and find her dead on the floor. And Jim Broadbent comes to Saoirse’s work with a sad look on her face. And her tears become your tears as you sit in a theatre on New Year’s Day with a bunch of people whose average age is several decades more than your own and you do the casual cheek brush like you weren’t crying, you just had an itch.
But you were.
You were definitely crying.