I re-watched the movie "Grosse Pointe Blank" the other day, for the first time in a long time. When it came out I loved it, because it hit me square in the forehead. I graduated high school the same year as the characters in the movie, and also had unrequited love stories and hitman tendencies. This movie was right in my wheelhouse.
The movie, in case you haven't seen it, is about a man who goes to his 10-year high school reunion in Grosse Pointe, which is just outside of Detroit. He tells everyone that he became a hitman, but nobody believes him. There are several people who followed him there to kill him for accidentally performing a hit on a dog.
Just from that, you can tell that the movie is fantastic. It is, but the story is layered with wonderful details and performances that really must be seen. I was hoping to relive all of that wonderfulness when I saw the movie the other morning before I needed to go to work on the night shift.
But the rewatching just depressed me. Twelve years later and all these people who were "just like me" back then are exactly the same. They look good and young, act stupid and charming and pull it off.
Me? I just got older, fatter and far less interesting.
One of the themes in the movie is the old "you can't go home again" (noted especially when the main character discovers that the house he grew up in is now a Ultra-mart convenience store.)
I discovered that not only can't you "go home" again, you can't relive a connection to a movie you once had. Time marches on, but the movies stay young and beautiful forever.