Jacob’s Ladder Review
Forever ago, I was working with a guy, at the time I was 19, and had not yet expressed or realized the distaste I have for other people generally. I was telling him about a movie I had just seen in the theater, which was the only way I saw movies at the time.
I told him the whole tale, which I will tell you.
It was winter in Wisconsin, November. I saw the movie the first week it came out. I went with my high-school sweetheart, we were running a little late, and came in right when the movie was starting, having missed the previews.
I don’t like to miss the previews, pet peeve.
I had my wool P-coat, with a fur collar. I looked up at the screen and watched the magic of Adrian Lyne made manifest on the twinkling screen. I sat on the edge of the seat so I could slide out of my coat, but I never did get around to that. I literally sat on the edge of my seat for the whole first act, and after that, I just slid back, keeping my coat on.
An early scene in the second act finds Jacob Singer [played expertly by a young and gangling Tim Robbins, before he got all whiny and preachy] riding on a train. He pulls out the very same edition of The Stranger, by Albert Camus that I had in the pocket of my coat. I came unhinged, and could not take my eyes away, but I was now agitated and prepared for almost anything to come across the screen.
What I was not prepared for was the greatest use of sound design I had experienced before or since. The sound that still haunts my dreams has been used in many movies, and it may not have been the place it made its debut, but it was the first time I had heard it, and it made an impact on me.
Already riding the edge of a knife, the sound wormed into my skull, and every time it assaulted me, I nearly bit through my lip. It still has the same effect on me, the exact same effect every time I see it.
By the end, on leaving the theater, I could have sworn that I had just been through a 4 hour movie. I mentioned it to Monica, and expected it to be dark when we got outside. The effect and disorientation of paying that sort of attention lingered with me for at least 15 more minutes getting used to the light, 24 more hours of paranoia, thinking that there were forces aligned against me, and to this day in my dreams.
Even though I was not wise, or worldly going into the movie, it has still made an impact on the way that I appreciate movies, and even today defines what I want to get out of a cinema experience.
I related the entire experience, and the effect it had on me. His response was that that sounded boring, and that he had just seen Child’s Play 2, which opened the same week, and that THAT was a scary movie.
Yeah, he had an effect on me, the way I view fellow humans, and the amount I wanted to interact with them. You have to be careful every minute of your life; you never know when you might be the source for someone else’s epiphany.
