There’s something inherently attractive about sentimental people. Something incorruptible and disarmingly simple.
Watching the final minutes of Man On Wire, certainly one of the greatest documentaries in recent years, you notice how one of Philippe Petit’s friends-cum-associates breaks into uncontrollable sobbing. Past becomes overwhelming, you can see it in his face. Words get smeared by tears, and you can feel your own heart break a little. It does not even matter if the man felt somehow betrayed by Petit (he had every reason to be) or that was the case of post-cathartic devastation. What matters is the past, as past always does.
I pity the person who feels ashamed of his voice cracking, his eyes welling up. Be it a song, a film ending or even a sudden memory. No tears are ever unjustified. I applaud the author. But even more so – I applaud the person who felt it.