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Took my date to see the film cause it was playing for the 40th anniversary. I hadn’t seen it in a good 5 years, so it was like watching it with a fresh pair of eyes. I always remembered the scene where the Kid, already ripe with inner turmoil, walks in on his father’s attempted suicide. What I didn’t remember was the scene that comes after, where the Kid succumbs to the torment that he’s endured, haunted by the sight of his father’s outline with the gun in chalk, the noise of his previous shouting and the fatal gunshot ringing in his ears, a unkempt rope peering out at the edge of the room, a brief flash of the Kid’s own lifeless body hanging from the ceiling, a potential oncoming fate…..he finally breaks down under all the pressure and tears up the room. He finds his father’s sheet music in the ensuing rubble, and regains his inspiration, managing to assemble the title track based off the demo tape that Wendy and Lisa put together. I was quite disturbed by the scene in the theater, but managed to get through it. Talked to a friend on the phone the day after and finally broke down crying. It’s not one of those things that you’re proud of relating to, but you’re glad it’s there for support. I’m grateful I never went through with taking my life, I’m grateful my closest friends never went through with taking their lives. I’m grateful that we’re still here despite all the bullshit. It’s a beautiful thing to be alive and prospering on this divinely-created planet. I’ve been in that room before, I’ve been on the edge of death, I’ve heard those deafening voices, I’ve seen myself hanging from that ceiling, I’ve had those psycho crash outs, lost friends, burned bridges and somehow wound up with a better life in the process. I’ve never understood how people refer to the film as a guilty pleasure or a so-bad-it’s-good experience. The bizarre mystic nature of it all somehow manages to feel more grounded to me by the day. Prince and Albert Magnoli assembled a work of sheer primal genius.

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