Crying feels constructive, but isn't. In this respect, it's similar to writing a review of crying. It might be a little masturbatory, but it's as widely understood as the universal symbol for "Got a light?" (clench fingers, wag thumb up and down, look imploringly at owner of lighter).
Crying is mildly shameful, pleasantly cathartic and best done alone - OK, so it's more than a little masturbatory. In recent years it's been taken as a sign that men are in touch with their Emotions, so you get interminable celebrity interviews in which an anodyne actor admits that he cried only two days ago, as if he should win a prize for it. Get you, Mr Actor: your job is only pretending to be someone else for a living, which is basically lying, so you can get off your high horse right now.
Men who cry for a proper reason like their wife leaving them or their dog dying are one thing, but men who cry about stupid things are deeply unnerving. You start thinking they're premenstrual, and then you remember that they have no womb. (Girls, please note: if you find yourself in front of a repeat of Men Behaving Badly, crying because of a certain tragic quality in Neil Morrissey's face, it's probably hormones and not existential angst. Existential angst has better taste in sitcoms.)
This year's Oscars was less of a fake crying jag than in previous years, but we still had to endure footage of Hilary Swank hyperventilating about trailer parks.
Crying: Fine for me, but if an actor does it, rescind their Oscar. 7 out of 10.
Things, objectively and comprehensively reviewed.
- Name: Eskimo
- Location: London
- Review: Scientology
- Review: Russian films/Russian literature
- Review: Simulating sex
- Review: Lunch
- Review: Love
- Book review: The work of Dan Brown
- Review: Snow
- Science review: The theory of relativity
- Review: Toast
- Review: Handjobs