Searching for simpler times

I love going to the movies.

From the smell of the popcorn to the twinkling lights in the floor that lead you down the aisle to your seat, there is something magical about watching a story play out on the giant silver screen in a darkened theater.

But despite the crispness of digitally filmed productions and the astounding special effects of today's blockbusters, I often long for films from another era.

My affection for old movies grew through watching them with my Nana. We've seen them all together, watching Fred Astaire dance his way into the leading lady's arms or tapping our toes along with the music in "South Pacific."

In this day and age, just like when they were made, these films provide a total escape. Sure, there are sad themes, tragic themes and even very difficult themes, but the problems in these old films can often be solved with a song and by the time the credits roll, some sort of happy ending has been reached.

They just don't make 'em like they used to. The musical itself is nearly obsolete, and even movies that are simply happy seem few and far between, save for the Disney set which don't always cater to my adult needs. It seems filmmakers back in the day understood something that's fallen by the wayside now: In a world of chaos, in the middle of a war, people need a break from reality. The problems in our own lives can be trying, and compounded by those in the world which we are constantly reminded of through every media outlet which we seem surrounded by in this Information Age. There is something psychologically soothing about being entertained by a movie that takes us away from all that temporarily, in which all problems will be resolved within two hours.

If only life were so easy. I would waltz into the newsroom every morning and by the time the first song and dance number had ended, the presses would be rolling. A girlfriend and I would tap dance our way into the cafe for the "Lunch Hour" bit, then there'd undoubtedly be a dashing leading man to interview in the afternoon. By the evening, I could sing and dance my way through aerobics class where I'd manage never to miss a step or break a sweat, and I'd probably sing a tune about how wonderful life is before crawling into bed.

But until my life becomes a musical or Hollywood reverts to its old ways, Nana, you make the popcorn, I'll bring "Royal Wedding."

Erin Stuber is the managing editor of the Columbia Basin Herald.