I Love You, Damon Salvatore
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The Vampire Diaries is a show on the CW about brothers who are vampires. Stefan is the evolved, selfless one dating pretty high-schooler Elena. Damon is the more nasty, cynical brother alternately ennobled and tormented by his love for Elena. Natch, Damon is the heartthrob, with those mesmerizing blue eyes, dark hair, and jaded wisecracks.
The re-run this week was one of my favorite episodes, called "The Descent." A vampire named Rose, who blew into town a few episodes ago and shacked up with Damon, has been bitten by a werewolf and is slowly dying, in constant pain and increasingly erratic behavior. When Rose runs off while Elena is nursing her and kills a security guard (those poor security guards), Damon brings her back to his bedroom. She's grief-stricken that she's killed a human and in agony from the pain. Damon holds her, wrapping her arms around her from behind as they lie in bed. The scene suddenly goes into a dream, where Rose is a young maiden in an older time, with long hair smiling in the sun of a rural meadow. Damon is there on the hill waiting for her. They talk of the things that were, the people she knew, how much she misses the sunshine and all the other things about being human. Rose invites him to race her in the grass, and he responds that he'll win, since he's directing the dream. "Come on," she says, and they count to three: one, two, and then the camera cuts back to the real world, where Damon plunges the stake in her heart on three, tears running down his face and her pale, bloodied faced going paler still.
Just like the first time it aired, this scene had me crying as hard as I've ever cried at a movie in my life. Heaving gulps of sadness. The scene is so well done, so well acted and conceived, and it touches on that hardest of human facts: saying goodbye to everything we've known, everyone we loved, going into the unknown.
There's something here, a clue to the strength of the vampire story: beauty, longing, the hope of escaping the hardest goodbye, the poignancy of trading the griefs of mortality for the griefs of immortality.
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The Vampire Diaries is a show on the CW about brothers who are vampires. Stefan is the evolved, selfless one dating pretty high-schooler Elena. Damon is the more nasty, cynical brother alternately ennobled and tormented by his love for Elena. Natch, Damon is the heartthrob, with those mesmerizing blue eyes, dark hair, and jaded wisecracks.
The re-run this week was one of my favorite episodes, called "The Descent." A vampire named Rose, who blew into town a few episodes ago and shacked up with Damon, has been bitten by a werewolf and is slowly dying, in constant pain and increasingly erratic behavior. When Rose runs off while Elena is nursing her and kills a security guard (those poor security guards), Damon brings her back to his bedroom. She's grief-stricken that she's killed a human and in agony from the pain. Damon holds her, wrapping her arms around her from behind as they lie in bed. The scene suddenly goes into a dream, where Rose is a young maiden in an older time, with long hair smiling in the sun of a rural meadow. Damon is there on the hill waiting for her. They talk of the things that were, the people she knew, how much she misses the sunshine and all the other things about being human. Rose invites him to race her in the grass, and he responds that he'll win, since he's directing the dream. "Come on," she says, and they count to three: one, two, and then the camera cuts back to the real world, where Damon plunges the stake in her heart on three, tears running down his face and her pale, bloodied faced going paler still.
Just like the first time it aired, this scene had me crying as hard as I've ever cried at a movie in my life. Heaving gulps of sadness. The scene is so well done, so well acted and conceived, and it touches on that hardest of human facts: saying goodbye to everything we've known, everyone we loved, going into the unknown.
There's something here, a clue to the strength of the vampire story: beauty, longing, the hope of escaping the hardest goodbye, the poignancy of trading the griefs of mortality for the griefs of immortality.
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posted by Anonymous at
10:38 PM
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