The Green Mile

So the other night, my flatmate and I decided to watch a film, and she said she wanted to watch The Green Mile. I, after making a couple of feeble it's-too-long, I'm-too-tired excuses, gave in and stuck it on.

This is the second and a half time I've watched it, the first being with my mum when I was about fifteen (very poor choice for a mother-daughter girl's night, has to be said), the second I don't really count because it was with several friends and nobody was really paying attention (I hate it when people do that). So it's not like I don't know what's going to happen. It's not like any of it comes as a surprise.

And yet, I still felt my heart pumping, toes curling, legs tensing and tear ducts working overtime at all the appropriate moments. Generally speaking, if I watch a tearjerker with other people, it doesn't make me cry. Generally speaking, if I watch a tearjerker that I know is a tearjerker, it doesn't make me cry. Generally speaking, if I watch a tearjerker I've seen before, it doesn't make me cry. 'Generally speaking', doesn't really apply to this film. I cried like a baby.

And I think it takes a very special kind of film to hit you with that level of emotion several times. This is the only film I've known that has left me emotionally exhausted at the end of it - it's so long, and intense, and touching, and horrifying, and generally compelling.

It's not a film you could (or should) watch over and over again - it's going to be another few years, at least, before I go there again. But it is one of the most touching stories ever filmed, and if you've never seen it I have to tell you that you must - it's a film like no other. And take tissues.