I had the chance to watch Forrest Gump today, and re-expe­ri­ence was an amaz­ing film it was again. I spent many hours as a kid (or, more appro­pri­ate­ly, as a social her­mit) watch­ing it over and over again.

My grade nine his­to­ry class allowed me the priv­i­lege of under­stand­ing the sub­tleties of cer­tain scenes used as a time stamp, such as Governor Wallace protest­ing the deseg­re­ga­tion of the pub­lic school sys­tem, or each war Lieutenant Dan’s ances­tors died in.

It was odd to watch a film I haven’t seen in so long, yet to be able to quote most parts of it word for word, tone for tone, accent for accent. Everything seemed so for­eign yet so famil­iar. Every scene brought an old emo­tion, unfelt since the last time I watched it so long ago.

It was inter­est­ing to under­stand new things about the movie, things which were beyond my com­pre­hen­sion in my youth. It became appar­ent that I learned much since then, and that I was expe­ri­enc­ing the movie in a dif­fer­ent way. As James Cole notes in 12 Monkeys while watch­ing Vertigo, one may watch a film twice, but it may seem dif­fer­ent when the changes are sole­ly in one­self.

I only now under­stand Lt. Dan’s strug­gles with his fate and phi­los­o­phy. I remem­ber being very phys­i­cal­ly attract­ed to Robin Wright, and I guess I sim­ply lost that attrac­tion. I had­n’t ful­ly appre­ci­at­ed the strength of Forest’s moth­er until see­ing it again today. The list goes on.

It must be rare to have some­thing which can be used as a meter or ruler in which one can mea­sure ones progress. I hold self-improve­ment and intel­li­gence as such impor­tant things in my life that I am con­stant­ly try­ing to use one to bet­ter the oth­er, and con­se­quent­ly I may lose sight of how far I’ve gone.

Hopefully there is more to go.