It’s Sunday morning here on Long Island and as I scroll through movies to watch as I begin my day, I’ve come across Monsters Inc. Nostalgia has consumed me and I’m transported back to the first time I watched this. My twin and I were at our Aunt Babe’s, we burnt the popcorn before the movie began but we were too enthralled with the lamp squishing the ‘I’ in Pixar to care (I just recently found out the lamp actually has a name: Luxo Jr.).
In these moments, we don’t recognize their significance for a number of reasons: because we’re too young, because we’re too focused on other things. But once life has had the chance to slow down for a second, we’re able to realize how extraordinary these times were.
They were so extraordinary because as Beauty and the Beast was playing in the background of our living rooms, we were chewing on candy necklaces and making inside jokes with our siblings. Alice in Wonderland was on as our mom’s brought us ginger ale because we weren’t feeling well. While thanksgiving dinner was being cooked, Dumbo was on the screen to distract us from playing near the kitchen and being in grandma’s way. And when we put the Mulan VHS tape on, we were spending time with our granddad: time that we would pray to have more of a couple years later because we didn’t realize how people don’t only pass away in the movies.
It’s truly remarkable how the opening credits of a film have the ability to make us feel so deeply, even if we haven’t seen that particular film in 13 or 14 years. This is an epidemic with our generation: we’ve become desensitized to emotion because we know if we get too wrapped up in feelings we slow down, we fall behind, we’re disappointed. These movies relieve us from this mindset; we’re allowed to feel excited without worrying about breaking a social norm.
After dinners I’d have with my high school boyfriend’s family, we’d watch The Lion King or The Jungle Book or Cinderella because we liked reminiscing upon how life was when we first watched them. But even watching those same movies only a couple of years later, it’s the time spent with the boyfriend I reminisce upon now as well. A sort of nostalgia inception is occurring currently: a Russian Doll effect of memories tied to Disney tales. In a few years from now, we’ll be thinking about how we were watching Mary Poppins in our dorms thinking about how we used to dance (like the savage toddlers we were) to the song Stepping Time. Then years after that, we’ll be watching the same, extraordinary memories begin to arise in our children.
These movies are important to me; my love for them is evergreen. I’m sentimental when it comes to Disney and that will never be lame. I think there’s something special in the simplicity of this all, watching the stories come to life gives me relief that not all aspects of life are tough or confusing. I’m thankful to have a temporary escape from complexity at my disposal and to feel the way I do about this.
It’s Sunday morning here on Long Island, and I’m spending it watching Monsters Inc. On a Sunday morning 13 or 14 years ago I was doing the same, and on a Sunday morning 7 or 8 years from now, I’ll be doing the same then too.