Is This Silly?

About a month ago (which today seems like a year and a half ago), Connor and I sat down for our weekly movie night.  Before asking Connor which movie he wanted to watch (which would have been Cars, which would have meant watching all or parts of it for the 67th time in 37 days, which - despite my respect for his consistency - would have driven me crazy) I asked him if he might like to watch a movie about a robot (Connor likes robots) called, WALL-E.  

“Is it Silly?” he asked?  

“Yes!” I said.

I was relieved to be telling the truth because I remembered the eponymously named robot and the movie engaged in a fair amount of slapstick.  And to prove it, I played him the trailer. 

He laughed throughout.  He giggled when WALL-E struggled with the fire extinguisher.  He cracked up when the robot used a bra as goggles. He cackled as several grocery carts smashed the robot against a grocery store door.  And he “ooh”-ed when WALL-E brushed a ring of stars as he flew atop a spaceship. When the trailer ended, Connor agreed to watch it. We settled into the couch with his dinner and pressed “play.”

WALL-E opens in isolation: the camera sweeps along the starry blackness of deep space, a polluted skyline, long-abandoned skyscrapers and the garbage-strewn streets of an unknown 29th-century city.  The sweeps are scored by “Put On Your Sunday Clothes,” from the musical Hello Dolly but the images read Desolation and loneliness.  I knew where the movie was going - that earth’s lone inhabitant was a robot named WALL-E who had developed a romantic personality and was about to go on the adventure of his life - but Connor didn’t.

“Where are the people?” he said.

“Just wait, sweetie.  You’ll see.” I said.

Our first glimpse of WALL-E comes from an overhead long-shot as he’s making his way along the dusty streets lined by garbage.  After that, we only get shots of his body to show’s what he’s doing there (collecting and compacting trash). It’s not until 2 minutes and 10 seconds in that we get a full shot of him and by that time, the jaunty music has been muffled and we learn that WALL-E’s one companion is a very cute cockroach.

“Is this Silly?” Connor said.

“Hang on, sweetie.  Just wait.” I said.  

We continued watching.  There were moments of silliness after the opening credits but they were not as frequent as I remembered.  The first twenty minutes of the movie are definitely charming in that “It gives us a G-rated, computer-generated cartoon vision of our own potential extinction” way.  They reveal the tragedy of our consumer-centered behavior yet focus on a character whose fascination with its objects and structures celebrates the ambitious/playful/ridiculous spirit that used to drive it. 

Connor didn’t see any of that because he’s four but also because she didn’t see any people.  “Where are the people?” he kept asking. “Where are the people?” When I explained to him that the people would come later, he returned to his first question, “Is this silly?”

At first, I was annoyed because I didn’t think he was giving the movie a chance.  I then remembered that I am the adult and that he wasn’t asking because he was trying to diminish my movie-watching experience.  (Note to those considering parenthood: this thought happens a lot.) When I gained my wits though, I listened to him ask the question a few more times and began to look at the movie from his point of view.

Connor HATES being alone.  He rarely goes to the bathroom without asking for our company.  He asks us to play with her constantly. And there is no greater struggle during our weekends together than getting him to spend an hour playing by himself so Emily and I can rest.  His tactics are mostly adorable but designed to avoid alone time - breaking the hour into requests, (“Can I play with [insert toy/game]?”), observations (“I’m painting with blue. Blue is my favorite color.”), and declarations (“This is my rest time, Dada, so I’m not going to bother you.”) - can be exhausting. 

And there is this: Three months ago he started to have nightmares.  While this is developmentally appropriate for his age, it must be a disorienting experience.  (“You mean my mind can create scary images and scenarios at any time I sleep that I am unable to control it?  Jesus...I mean...what...how...Who came up with that one, Dad? Seriously! WHO IN THE LIVING FUCK CAME UP WITH THAT STAGE OF DEVELOPMENT, DAD?!?!?!?!?”)  

This makes the idea of being alone even weirder. And I empathize: it’s a rational response to a brain wildly out of control.

So while I’m endeared to WALL-E for tossing a diamond ring and keeping the fuzzy box it came in (talk about sane responses…) Connor was not.  He repeatedly asked for the People and the Silliness. I tried explaining again that there were people coming and that he only had to get through the first thirty or forty minutes to get to the silly parts.  I also tried explaining that with movies, you sometimes have to wait until through the boring parts to get to the exciting (i.e., silly) parts. But Connor lives moment to moment in a way I do not and he wanted what I had promised him.  And when saw he was getting No Silliness served atop a plate of Loneliness on a bed of Decay, there was no way he was going to enjoy this movie.

I don’t know if I’m projecting these thoughts onto him or conflating his behavior with what I know of his personality. I did ask why he didn’t like the movie but he didn’t seem to understand the question. He just stared at the TV in a way I could only interpret as disinterest. He clearly didn’t like the movie as much as I did though so he asked for a change.

“Can we watch Lightning McQueen?” He said.  (That’s what she calls Cars)

“Sure,” I said.

I changed the channel and we settled back in; him with his chicken nuggets and me with my disappointment.

I’ve tried to watch WALL-E twice in preparation for this post and both times I stopped twenty minutes in because I couldn’t stop seeing the movie through his eyes.  It was an unsettling experience, partly because loneliness feels so empty and party because I didn’t want to think of myself as so impressionable.  I’ve worked hard to become comfortable with my point-of-view and I want to like things for the reasons I like them.  I don’t want to think I can be thrown so easily and quickly. But as Emily pointed out, I love watching movies with Connor because it’s a joy to just watch him experience them.  And I don’t want tamper that experience because they don’t mesh with my own. 

There’s a chance with more time and experience he will like WALL-E.  (He once objected to Frozen but now he likes certain things about it.)  And he will eventually get used to the nightmare-inducements of his unruly brain. His distaste for loneliness persists though and I can’t stop seeing the movie through that lens.  Because I love him, I am trying on a new reality that allows his responses to periodically rob me of experiences I’d like to have - like soaking in the beauty of desolation. But I look forward to the time when he sees the beauty there too.