I wrote this last night after watching it at home, and asked a friend here to check it--it's very, very personal, and very true. I asked because I was and am scared--this could be my life. I saw myself all in the Phantom's thinking and emotions.
Beginning of writeup
I had trouble watching this movie, again. In 2008 I watched it, was quite riveted by its similarities, and I shelved it.
Recently, after receiving this movie's soundtrack for Christmas, I considered watching it again - this time for a good cry. I didn't cry much, due to me being right next to my wife, but really - because it shocked me. I didn't want her to know.
This movie hurt deeply due to it personifying the truth of my self-hatred. The phantom, due to early repeated rejection and abuse, believes he's hated. He hates himself, and to soothe his pain, he tries to trap the beautiful Christine Daae-to rescue his soul. Sounds perfectly logical to a person giving himself nothing but hatred. She'll fill him, fix him, cure him, and......he's desperate enough to kill to attain someone's love. When she chooses her recently returned childhood sweetheart, his hatred surfaces.
What came then cut deeply, for again, I connected with his self-hate. It's blown out on him, her, and THE WHOLE WORLD in his eyes. Noone has ever loved him, and losing her might mean more loss of hope, more pain, for him. His hatred also has more power than the silent death he faces daily (I know I am projecting some there, for that's my experience).
Anyway, I don't like this. I very often live like he does in the movie, where everyone is a possible target for my slowly boiling hatred. This serves two functions: first, my anger will keep you away; and two, my "truth" won't be challenged-IT'S THE ONLY THING I KNOW! Frick, this sucks.
"My name's Alfred, and I hate myself. Nobody loves me because someone marked/cursed me when young, so please go away before I get real-real ugly, real honest, for you won't love me, and I won't let you. Now, go away." This is painful. This touched a painful part of my soul.
End of writing.
I felt and feel like a six year old--helpless sometimes--and this was a painful reenactment of my life. I know I'm not the only one, but Goddddd, this was painful for me. Who else has been affected by this film?
Edited by fhorns (01/26/11 06:08 PM)
Edit Reason: changed title