When Tom Hanks cries, I cry

“Philadelphia”? Forget about it. From frame number 65 (which is about 2 ½ seconds into the film), I’m a mess. One of the all time highest rated films ever – in tissue rating terms.

Tissue rating goes like this:
“Gone With The Wind”: when I was 12 it got 20 tissues.
Now it gets none to 1.
“Sophie’s Choice”: the first time was about 30 tissues.
Now it’s about 25. SUCH a great movie. STILL such a great movie.
Streep and Kline? Come on… they’re unforgettable.
Harrowing storytelling. Exquisite hideosity.
Standing the test of time, tissue rating-wise.

No stars. Or tomatoes. Just tissues.

Jack Lemmon used to be the “everyman” of the acting world. (I often found him extremely annoying, but… he continued to act anyway.) Now, it’s Hanks. As a 21st century human, I understand that the “everyman” moniker in this day and age means that Tom can cry on cue. That’s not only endearing to women, it’s totally believable, because it’s Tom Hanks that’s doing the crying. He’s SUCH a nice right-thinking good guy that men feel supported in displaying their emotions. Because Tom has shown the way, men feel comfortable being publicly sensitive and fully responsive.

I mean, if Clooney ever cried… nah….. Wouldn’t work for Clooney.

When the script calls for Hanks to cry, I’m right there with him. I mean: “Wilson!!!! I’m sorry Wilson!!!!!” That might be the most tragic moment he ever portrayed. It took “Cast Away” from being just another man lost on a deserted island flick, to high art. The loss of his companion, Wilson, was pure heartache. Pathos on film.

So why am I writing about Tom Hanks now? Yes, he has a new film coming out, “Sully”. He’s been touting that on talk shows and it’s probably very good. Believable. [Especially since it actually did happen. D’uh.] But that’s not what prompts me to write about him now. I’m writing now because I just saw “Captain Phillips” in its entirety. Another true story. I never saw it when it was released, and every time I’ve tried to watch it on TV, I’ve fallen asleep. But it was just on during daylight, so I got to see it through to the ending.

It didn’t occur to me that this film would have a tear-jerking ending. I had thought it would be a “Hooray for the U.S.A.” ending. But the very end was a kind of epilogue that was necessary in order for the audience to reach completion:

When the Navy doctor got Tom to lie down while she examined him after rescue, I watched his face struggle to come to grips with what had happened to him. I saw him – photographed prone and in profile – go past his trauma, past the realization of what did happen and the horror of what might have happened, and enter the realm of realizing the prevalence and degree of inhumanity and cruelty that exist in the world. I saw his face register the knowledge that there is no such thing as equity, fairness, righteousness. I saw him realize that it was only his good fortune that he happened to be on the side that had the smarter, bigger and better team and tools, and the fact that he was on that side was merely an accident of birth. I saw him realize that horrible bad luck might have just as capriciously been his. I saw him silently ask himself the Alfie question, “What’s it all about?” I saw that he had no answer. Only helplessness. And I saw him cry. No sobbing, no pillow punching, just those teared up, beaten and exhausted eyes followed by a gasp for air as his wet and bloodied face was dabbed silently by the kind military doctor.

So I, too, cried. For all the same reasons. I did it without a script, or a camera rolling or a paycheck. I did it because I cry when Tom Hanks cries. He always has a good reason, and I am nothing if not empathetic. Even so, in all good consciousness, it only gets a rating of 2 tissues. But they were hard fought, and well earned. Even though the first viewing of “Sleepless in Seattle” got 3 tissues, Captain Phillips’ portrayer has nothing to be ashamed of. And neither do I. Because along with those tears go equal quantities of fury and frustration, rage and indignation. What to do with that anger becomes a challenge. Hanks vents his through his acting. He gets to express it with a script, a camera rolling and a paycheck.

It would appear that my voice is this humble piece of writing. It’s not much in terms of activism or saving the world from itself. But I feel lucky that I CAN publish it. That I live in a time and place where there is still a first Amendment to a Constitution written for, by and about we, the people.
And as long as that is still true, I am going to participate in that freedom, hoping that this drop in the bucket might splash awareness into someone’s eyes, someone who can position themselves as a real defender of faith in our country’s tenets.

So whaddya know? This piece turns out to have an “Hooray for the U.S.A.” ending. Thanks for leading the way, Tom. You’re so good at this that I am considering adding another tissue to my rating for “Captain Phillips.”
Stay tuned.

      —Author’s note: it is by sheer, freaky coincidence that I happened to
         choose this day on which to write about cruelty and inhumanity. 
         It’s September 11th.