My son the old softie

As I was getting my computer set up for work on Monday and my seven-year-old was in the other room, enjoying the morning hours of his second week of school holidays, I heard him go into the ending of Luca, which we'd watched a week ago while out of town.

I thought he was picking up where he left off on a previous viewing, since he will watch movies in chunks. (The makings of a possible cinephile there, I tell you -- creating some additional immersion in a particular movie, even if you don't have time for a complete viewing.) 

But then when it ended, I heard him rewind it about five minutes to the beginning of the train platform scene between Luca and Alberto, the scene that's a facsimile of so many others in movie history.

And then he did it once more.

Awwww.

Even though I've seen the "train platform scene" a hundred times before, this is probably his first exposure to it, so he's becoming freshly acquainted with what makes this scene so powerful and -- let's call a spade a spade -- so sentimental. 

He's watched his favorite parts of movies before, but it may be that he is only just now discovering that a favorite part can be a part that makes you feel the feels -- and that feeling the feels is something he really likes. (Another recipe for cinephilia, I'd say.)

It's nice that he's not just a tad more self-conscious and self-aware, or a few years older, because otherwise he'd be embarrassed about the possibility his dad could notice him twice rewinding a movie to its most sentimental part. There comes a point in your life where you hide that shit as though you were hiding pornography. Fortunately he's not there yet. 

I could probably even ask him about it without getting a "Daaaaaaaaad!" and an immediate determination never to repeat the activity again. But I think I will just let it lie and enjoy my own assumptions.

Of course, it could also be that this scene speaks to him specifically. Much has been made (including by me in my review) about how Luca plays as a gay allegory, and who knows, maybe my son sees the parting of Luca and Alberto on that train platform in the romantic context that many people are seeing it. I already know he doesn't really like sports. (Kidding. I would never be so reductive about the signs of a person being gay or straight. Though let's just say if he does one day come out to us, it won't be a total surprise.)

Humorously, the New York Times gave the following nickname to Luca: Calamari Me By Your Name. Good one.

I'm just glad that my son recognizes the role of movies in the TV/games/movies hierarchy. Games are still on top -- for both my kids -- but my older son would never just throw on a movie, as I've mentioned before. He'll get into one when it's on, but he wouldn't usually be the driving force behind throwing it on. 

My younger son? He throws them left and right.

And it looks like he's starting to recognize all the ways they can enrich you -- not just your brain, not just your endorphins, not just your funny bone, but your heart as well.