I Love You, Phillip Morris!

Cathy and I went to see the movie, I Love You, Phillip Morris, yesterday afternoon.

 Neither of us had really heard of it, although Cathy did mention that she knew it got three stars in the Courier Journal. My movie stipulation was that it start after 5:00, and that we go to the Baxter Theatre.

 The Baxter is an independent movie theatre that shows movies that aren't always played in the bigger movie complexes. The crowd that goes there is a bit quirkier than most, which is one reason I like it. BUT, the main reason we like this particular theatre is that we never see any former or present students there. (Pretty low theatre standards, right?)

That's how we ended up seeing this particular movie. It proved to be quite an experience for me.

First, as we sat there before the lights went down, Cathy noticed rather loudly that there were a lot of men (with no women) in the theatre. She surmised that all of their wives must be in the bathroom. Not. When I looked around, there were only three other women seated and probably about 50+ men.

My first thought was that this movie must be sci-fi, but then I remembered that my own little man, Will, was at home sitting on the couch, eating pizza and watching football. Football Sundays usually result in lots of women at the movies. Anyway, when one of the guys in front of us rested his head on the other guy's shoulder, this suburban mom and teacher finally realized that we were getting ready to see a movie with a bunch of gay guys. So much better than watching a science fiction movie, right? Seriously.

I don't think Cathy and I were exactly sure what we might be in for, but it turned out to be a really great movie. It was based on a true story about a con man who happens to be gay. He is able to talk his way into or out of any and every situation. At one point, his partner, Phillip Morris, finally understands that Steven is a con, and confronts him with, "I don't know who you are; I don't think even you know who you are."

Later in the story, Steven agrees, saying, "Maybe I don't know who I am, but I do know that I am a man who loved Phillip Morris." I liked that.

From time to time, I get confused as to who I am. Much of who we are is defined by our relationships. I'm Bo's girl, Sam's mom, Jack's teacher. Some of who we are is defined by groups we belong to. I'm a democrat, a teacher, a Methodist, an environmentalist, a pet owner. Sometimes, it's our illnesses that  define us. I'm a recovering anorexic. Our ethnicity, our gender, our sexuality, our heritage, culture and traditions define us.

Depending on the day or circumstance I define myself in a dozen different ways, as do most of us, I suppose. Even on days when I choose to identify with a lesser version of myself or even if I'm feeling particularly sassy thinking that I might possibly be the smartest person I know, deep down I simply want to be a woman who loved. I think that's what we all want, if we're brave enough to take the risk, to have our hearts broken.

I'm glad that it seems that maybe we're starting to realize that love really is the answer, whether it's gay or straight, Christian or Muslim, black or white. The rules we wrap ourselves in cause us to separate ourselves in a million different ways, but when the rules quite making sense, love remains.