In Our Own Backyard...Even movie stars need support, by George!As the closing credits scrolled across the screen and the house lights went up following George Clooney’s latest hit movie, “The Descendants,” the eyes of every woman in the place were streaming with tears. Some were hastily mopping them up before anyone in the lobby could spot them, and some, like me, just let ’em fall. George just seems to have that effect on women.
By: Wendy Johnson, Pine Journal
As the closing credits scrolled across the screen and the house lights went up following George Clooney’s latest hit movie, “The Descendants,” the eyes of every woman in the place were streaming with tears. Some were hastily mopping them up before anyone in the lobby could spot them, and some, like me, just let ’em fall. George just seems to have that effect on women.
The dramatic, happy/sad ending of the movie was only the latest coups in the popular actor’s stream of hits, and I’m sure it added to his legion of dedicated fans.
And while some may think it’s because of Clooney’s machismo and sex appeal, I would beg to differ. It’s not so much that engaging smile, those flashing white teeth, or those to-die-for thick eyelashes. It’s not his pepper-and-salt graying hair, and it certainly isn’t his build, which is nothing particularly out of the ordinary (sorry, George!).
The overriding thing about George Clooney is that I (and I’m guessing pretty much every other woman in the theater) end up wanting to bring him home and take care of him. He has the sort of empathic, boyish charm that makes you like him, feel his pain and want to take him under your wing.
This engaging vulnerability has repeated itself throughout the history of film.
As a young girl, I recall balling my eyes out during “Old Yeller,” wanting to somehow rescue the ailing dog from his certain fate after the young boy’s father tells him he must go out and shoot the old dog.
As Scarlett O’Hara sniveled on the staircase after Rhett Butler told her he no longer “gave a damn” in the closing scene of “Gone With the Wind,” I squirmed in frustration, itching to tell her to just buck up and go give him a piece of her mind.
And I agonized as Leonardo DeCaprio slipped beneath the water of the Atlantic for the last time in “The Titanic,” believing I certainly would have been able to hang onto him a whole lot longer if I had been in Kate Winslet’s shoes.
I guess that’s why certain actors – and certain movies – have the power to move us and even spur us to action. If the plot is well done, and the characters are well enough developed, we begin to identify with them and feel what they’re feeling – so much so that at times as we walk out the door of the theater, we have a hard time separating what’s real from what’s not.
Somehow, George Clooney seems to have mastered that ability to make us care about him. He’s not only won Golden Globe and Academy awards for the roles he’s played, but he also has a different glamorous woman on his arm almost every time you see him.
My husband said he fails to see the guy’s charisma. He agrees that while Clooney is a good actor, he doesn’t quite understand the “caretaking” effect he inspires in women.
I saw an interview with George last week on a morning news program, and while he concurred that he has been fortunate to have many good friends and some wonderful women in his life, he said he spends a fair amount of his free time on his own, goes to bed most nights at 10 p.m., and admitted that he gets lonely at times.
I sighed and wondered if there was anything that could be done about that.
After all, I make a mean tuna hot dish…