Crying at the movies

It's been a while since I had a full-on, wet-faced breakdown at a movie. I tear up all the time -- "Coraline's" miraculous, overhead 3D shot of The Other Father's garden got me this weekend. The sheer beauty of a film can do that, sometimes in surprising ways. David Fincher's "Zodiac" has ingenious flyover shots of San Francisco and Vallejo that got me, for instance.

But the last time I actually had an emotional outburst in the theater was in 2005. Many people complained that "Crash" was overtly simple and manipulative, and boy did it work its stuff on me. I actually screamed, "NO!" when the shopkeeper "shot" the locksmith's daughter. I was a bit of a mess for the next few scenes.

But that doesn't come close to my reaction to "House of Sand and Fog," a film whose final 20 minutes are almost too much to bear. Ben Kingsley's incredible performance only enhances the tragic facts of the plot, which I will not reveal if you haven't seen the film. When I saw it for the first (and only) time on DVD, I wound up kneeling on my basement floor, pounding the ground with my fists, drenched in my own tears. Lars Von Trier's "Dancer in the Dark" is on par; the end of that film makes you feel like the director came to your house and punched you in the gut.

And then there's the good, joyful cry at the movies. The toast to George Bailey at the end of "It's a Wonderful Life." Samwise Gamgee carrying Frodo up Mount Doom in "Return of the King." Ray Kinsella playing catch with Dad in "Field of Dreams."

I like to cry at the movies, because it means I have seen something good enough to produce an actual physical response. I still get crap from my roommate for crying my head off during one of the final episodes of "Six Feet Under," and I suppose there is still this stigma for men and crying at the movies, but I really couldn't care less. If you've never cried at the movies, then you haven't seen enough movies.

What was the last movie that made you cry?