A Five-Pause Film

"I didn't surrender, but they took my horse and made him surrender. They have him pulling a wagon up in Kansas I bet."
-Lone Watie, from 'The Outlaw Josey Wales.'

We currently have that particular Clint Eastwood film checked out of our local library; while I am not in the habit of watching films by myself- it feels hollow without Spouse's company- I did, in fact, watch that in its entirety on Sunday afternoon.
I buried myself deep into a heavy blanket on the couch and forgot for two hours that the house was otherwise empty.
It was visually magnificent; the horses glistened and gleamed, Eastwood's character dodged his determined enemies for as long as he could, and the rugged scenery invigorated my heartache for the West.
When I watch a film with my Spouse, we judge its worth by the pauses we make. If we suspend the DVD more than twice to discuss the content then it ranks high in our estimation. If Spouse stops only to eat a little food, the film perhaps will not be viewed a second time.
Spouse, who has perpetual control of the remote, usually instigates the pauses although a thought might strike me and I urge him to hold the picture while I muse upon my idea.
We might reflect upon the fact that the main character is a true vision of nobility and we lament that we meet so few people who live up to that;
we might stop to talk about a childhood memory suddenly evoked by a watermelon or mango on the screen or by some children enjoying the endless and lush green days of youth;
there again we might chance to comment on the peculiar neighbours a certain character has, be they good or bad, and what we would do in that situation;
most recently we watched some children debate what to do with a bag of stolen money they found, and of course that opened the floodgates of discussion for us;
a sundrenched field or even a rain sodden road might cause us to wish to relocate to the place on the screen- we are susceptible and open to new possibilities and cannot view the setting of a beautiful movie without at least considering the fact that we might like to live there.
In short, we pause movies to talk about what is wrong with the world, what is right with it, and what we could do to earn peaceful happiness in this life. The pausing of the screen is not everybody's cup of tea, so to speak, but we do it because it gives us opportunity to make more than entertainment out of a moving picture.

"All I have is a piece of hard rock candy. But it's not for eatin.' It's just for lookin' through."
-When Lone Watie declared that to be the only food he had, I imagine my Spouse would have a word or two to say.
When we watch it together, I suspect, given the stunning, almost familiar landscapes, the absence of superfluous conversation and the deep wish for an end to war and hatred that lies at the very heart of 'The Outlaw Josey Wales,' that my Spouse's finger will hover on the pause button for the duration of the film.