Sometimes, high altitude, excitement for holidays and friends, and the perfect story, all combine in one cataclysmic moment that completely undoes me.
On the flight from London to Nashville I caught up with a film I’d been meaning to see — Pitch Perfect.
In a moment early on, the main character, Becca auditions for an acapella group. We’ve just had a giant, lung-opening supercut of all the other candidates belting out the same overblown tune, and then we drop to silence. Becca skulks into the end of the audition, hasn’t prepared the same all the other candidates have prepared. We’re nervous for her, want her to succeed.
She sits on the edge of the stage, grabs a cup from the judges table and table and gives a haunting, beautiful, echoing performance of ‘You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone’.
It’s good on it’s own, but in context, it’s joyful. The contrasting energy is so perfectly judged that it gave me skin crunching shivers.
I sobbed my heart out for pretty much most of the film. Possibly something to do with the high altitude? But also because it’s such a masterclass in managing peaks and troughs in emotion.
Then I followed it up with The Futureheads Rant acapella album, so haunting.