Tears have no value of their own and writing that I was crying when someone was holding the door for me at the exit of the cinema doesn't mean anything, but I don't see how I can write with my brain right now. The sense of wonder and, yes, magic I felt watching Pete's Dragon is rare. Well, I watched Peter et Eliott le dragon, actually, a dubbed version—but even that didn't take me out of the movie.
It's crazy how early the movie took me. I knew it would be a car crash and I grew tired of dead parents in a car crash at the beginning of a movie and then that shot happens. Pete whispering: wow. Then, we're with him.
It might be weird but the last time I thought that I wanted to see a specific movie with my children (if I have children) was when I watched Fury Road. Because I felt like a child watching that car chase. Cinema was magic again. And cinema was magic, too, in Pete's Dragon. Weta did a wonderful job, la mise-en-scène captures how Eliott could inhabit that world, and Oakes Fegley doesn't need to speak a word to mean the world.
An insane car chase or a little boy playing with his dragon? Same thing. And those hypothetic children will see both of them.
But yes, I can just talk about emotion right now. What I loved. I loved the scene when Pete is running on the street, looking for Eliott—yes, I really wanted him to be with Eliott. Strongly. So when the dragon came back to see Pete happy without him it broke my heart. I imagined the last shot during the movie. I thought it would be beautiful and it was.
And it still moved me when I was outside the cinema, pretending to watch the people swimming behind the glass because I was still crying.
My tears mean nothing. But I loved it. And I'm so glad it exists.