Last night, one of my favorite movies, STAND BY ME, was on. When I say it is one of my favorite movies, I mean it. I watch it at least once a year. However, though I know the story and beats of this movie through and through, something new popped out to me and grabbed my attention. A fresh observation.
The film, based on novella “The Body” by Stephen King, is bookended with a monologue by one of the main child characters as an adult. Richard Dreyfuss as fully grown Gordie is narrating a story from his childhood as he looks back on his youth. One of the kids he had been close with had passed recently, which triggered his memory and led to him reflecting upon their time together. Specifically, he pondered a memory about an overnight hiking/camping adventure he took with his closest friends to go see a dead body.
Like I said, I’ve seen that movie several times since its release in 1986. I know it front to back. However, when I started watching it this time, though I’ve heard the soft spoken, poetic narration of Richard Dreyfuss’s character 100 times as a string quartet plays the chorus of the song “Stand By Me”, something new clicked with me.
I’ve always understood the sentiment of the adult Gordie’s words. I got it, even though when I first saw the film, I was quite young. He was now a grown man reflecting on simpler times in his life. But what 10 year old can really understand those feelings of reflection, or sorrowful yearning for distant times? Nothing to a decade old human is really that distant in the past.
So, upon hearing the dialog of an adult of the film, ingesting the words about youth, growth, and life through my ears, into my brain, down my veins, and into my heart, for the first time, I emotionally related to what Richard Dreyfus’s character as an adult was saying, and more so, feeling. I certainly “got it” this time. Like, I GOT IT.
It was certainly a jolt of new and unexpected emotion. The leading young boys were once protagonists to my eyes, but now, decades later, it seems like the adults are. Not that I mind change at all (but wasn’t getting gray hairs enough?!). It just really hadn’t occurred to me that adults were in this film. Yes, I obviously saw them on screen all this time, but they were nearly two dimensional and abstract to me. I did not know them like I knew the kids of the film. I KNEW those boys, because I was those boys in one way or another.
Part of me relates to Wil Wheaton’s young Gordie, not just because I also like to write, but I’m also a bit quiet and reserved most of the time.
I relate to Chris, played by River Phoenix, because I too, can adopt a “fuck it” attitude about things not going right. I say “can adopt” that attitude because it’s rare I feel that way, or brave enough to think that way is more like it. I’m usually high strung and anxious most of the time like Gordie.
I relate to aspects of Teddy’s homelife. Sometimes things are not within your control when you’re a kid, so you find ways of coping. Some kids take to imagining things are better, or conjuring a fantastical life in their own heads to get through the day.
Vern, however, hits my heart a little bit more than the others. He’s the awkward square that just wants to hang out with his friends, and be included. I think most of us can understand that.
Also, I too was a chubby kid when I was that age, so I very much relate to, as he became known, “the fat kid from Stand by Me”. I’ve got some 80’s bullying stories to back up that claim, though nothing like what Lard Ass went through in the story Gordie entertains his pals with around the campfire.
By its end, the movie still made me feel just as good as before, though. I guess I should be grateful for a second way to relate to and enjoy one of my favorite films. I’m just having an attitude problem accepting age at the moment. Well, it’s not the age that I’m having a problem with. It’s the maturation that comes along with it.
Right now, if asked if I wanted to go see a dead body (within the same context as the film), I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be curious. However, as an adult, I have a bullet-point list of questions that would completely ruin the fun:
- Who is dead and why?
- Are their parents aware?
- Has anyone called the police or ambulance yet?
- What kind of trouble could we get into for this?
- If this ends up being overnight, I need to pause the conversation and make a list of what I need to bring.
- Who will feed the dogs?
- Obviously the most important question: Will we make it back in time to watch Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy?
See! All the fun is gone now. Somewhere along the way, the ability to be truly spontaneous faded, much like the color of my hair.
Oh! I almost forgot, I have a ton of laundry to do along with errands in preparation for the upcoming week, so I’ll need to be home at a timely hour to handle that.
FUN, GONE.
What I do accept, though, is no matter the number of candles on my cake, and the responsibilities I <cough, cough> mature into, I will always be that awkward 80s kid inside, but outwardly grew up into a proud, yet still awkward, Gen-X adult.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: As I’m writing this, I had a funny thought. Well, I thought it was funny anyway. Obviously, I’m thinking about the movie and its plot; a grown man reflecting on his youth, and then life happens, which cannot be stopped.
Maybe the train scene is a visual metaphor for life? One minute you are young and on track, then life comes barreling at you from behind like a train that can’t slow down, and you run and dodge to survive. TRRRAAAAIIIINN!!!
