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I was recently chatting with a friend about old movies, and we were discussing some of our favorite scenes.
I don’t think my friend was very impressed with my selection.
Yes, I’m a hopeless romantic.
The first one that came to mind, and that still gives me chills from head to toe, is the wedding of Maria (Julie Andrews) and Captain Von Trapp (Christopher Plummer) in Salzburg Cathedral (The Sound of Music).
For my friend, the most memorable is during the Star Wars sequel (The Empire Strikes Back), when Darth Vader, the embodiment of evil, confesses to Luke Skywalker that he is his father.
My second choice features Jack (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Rose (Kate Winslet) embracing on the bow of the Titanic, unaware of their impending doom.
My friend remembered Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone) running through the streets of Philadelphia (Rocky I).
Finally, I brought up Molly (Demi Moore) when she’s at the potter’s wheel and the ghost of her great love, Sam (Patrick Swayze), appears and embraces her (Ghost).
My friend mentioned the bicycle scene from E.T.
Anyway, we changed the subject and ended our walk talking about food.
I got home and, as always, started reviewing my own scenes, old ones and the ones that are currently unfolding.
I’m now formally in what in theater would be called the Third Act, meaning the narrative arc is well underway, or in technical terms, what’s known as “the falling action,” where all the conflicts presented in the first two acts are resolved and a new normal is established.
That’s where I am now, in my “new normal” where scenes unfold randomly: a walk with a good friend (even if we disagree on cinematic choices), a feather in the wind, or right now, when two immense swans, whiter than snow, flew past my window.
I just wish that, in its simplicity, my Third Act becomes the best possible.
