Amy and I went to see Uncut Gems last night. It was a gem of a movie.
Adam Sandler was magnificent. My inner 14 year old loves his puerile movies and when I read the New York Times Magazine article Adam Sandler’s Everlasting Shtick around Thanksgiving I knew I had to see this movie.
Amy and I had a calm sushi dinner at our favorite place in Longmont, went to Staples and bought some office supplies, and then settled into the theater for 30 minutes of previews. We sort of knew what we were getting into, so we thought we were ready.
About an hour into the movie I realized I was holding my breath. I looked over at Amy and she was gripping the chair. I looked around the theater and saw what appeared to be a bunch of people in various stages of rictus.
About fifteen minutes later I realized I was touching my fingernails and glasses over and over again in one of my old OCD rhythms.
If you’ve ever been out of control going downhill on skis or a bike, that’s what the movie felt like. For over two hours.
The ending was completely and totally unexpected.
And then we were out in the parking lot, in the cold Colorado December pre-snow night, walking to our car. Stunned silent.
I know some people who say they are never anxious. I know others who are anxious all the time. And many others who don’t acknowledge their anxiety.
Anxiety is a thing I’ve struggled with my entire life. I’ve learned how to manage it, and how to take care of myself so it doesn’t rise up on a regular basis. But soaking in it for over two hours was intense and it’s still echoing for me this morning.