A Brief Moment Outside of Time

It was a Sunday morning, a couple months ago, before dawn. I had an exceptionally draining night at work [reminder: I’m a night watchman at a very wealthy retirement community] after a resident passed away, dealing with the bereaved as well as mortuary services, generally being at a loss for words, pondering my own dwindling sands of the hourglass.

It rained and rained. I would imagine, farther north, it snowed heavily that night.

I was sitting in my apartment, drinking merlot by the light of candles and Christmas lights, digging through old files on my laptop, listening to iTunes. A few tracks came on, pieces I haven’t heard in too long, and the effect was profound. First, there’s the masterfully composed Schindler’s List, which needs neither introduction nor review.

But there’s another piece that transports me every time I hear it. There was a moment, you see, in Kansas City, one snowy Friday night, alone at my apartment in the Stonewood Apartments complex. This piece was The Funeral from the the television series Firefly. There was a moment, when this music came on, that I happened to imitate exactly the expression on Mal’s face, looking out my window at the falling snow (perhaps the taste of Sailor Jerry or Southern Comfort on my lips, I don’t recall which exactly… but both were very popular with me at around that time). This was a very specific, very significant time in my life. And this moment, from listening to the score to Firefly, can’t quite be put into words.

But I guess I’m trying to say that sometimes there are moments in your life that closely resemble a fictitious moment from film. Musically, symbolically, emotionally, ecumenically, ergonomically… wait, no. Scratch that last part.

I just had to share this piece of music with you. But more than that, I want to show you the scene in context (spoiler alert).

For a brief, timeless and strange moment, connecting 2007 with 2011, I musically experienced this scene in real life.

And I think that’s the whole appeal of film music. There’s something in there that connects with us on a deeply human level. That’s why we bother to make films in the first place—why we tell tales of any kind, really. I’ve blogged before about this very thing, saying, “we are a race of storytellers,” and we do it for more than mindless entertainment. We seek to understand ourselves, to inspire ourselves, to unravel the complex mystery that is humanity. Whether it’s with exploding robots or sensitive horses, we tell stories for a deeper reason than just having something to take our minds off of work while we munch on popcorn.

For me, The Funeral from Firefly will always take me back to that lonely winter night in Kansas City, early 2007, gazing out the window by candlelight, dense snowfall muting the world, giving me pause.

There’s a reason film music is so compelling… and I pity the people who are unable to appreciate it.