The Nostalgic Power of Entertainment

I have recently been thinking about the nostalgic power of entertainment.   The music, movies, TV shows, etc. that I grew up listening to have a powerful influence on me.   For example, among my copies of The Departed and Inception, I have Seasons 1 and 2 of The Muppet Show (and I don't have kids).   For the rehearsal dinner at our wedding, my husband and I rented out the Alamo Drafthouse theatre in Austin, TX and showed a viewing of The Empire Strikes Back.  It should be noted that a prerequisite for marrying me is loving the Star Wars franchise.  As it turns out, my husband is a sci-fi fan in the "classical" sense.  That is, he loves sci-fi as a morality metaphor and a twist on reality.   But Science Fiction as a genre is a topic for another column.

At that rehearsal dinner, I met my cousin Allison and her husband Sam for the first time ever.  Turns out that they are HUGE Star Wars fans and we bonded over that commonality.   This is just a small example of how an entertainment medium (the Star Wars phenomenon in particular) brought a sense of nostalgia and facilitated bonding.  I am sure I could wear a Star Wars T-shirt on the T in Boston and get a few comments from complete strangers.  And the entertainment industry takes advantage of this, too.  I mean, look at the SuperBowl commercial for Volkswagen in which the little boy tries using the force.  (Catch it here: http://youtu.be/R55e-uHQna0).  That was one of the most popular ads.   Even the smallest reference to Star Wars brings me back to playing with the action figures, dressing up like Leia, or watching the movie.

It happens with music too.  Back when I was a kid and my family was driving cross-country and I had little to no control over the music played in the car, I was subject to Neil Diamond, Lee Greenwood, the Beach Boys, the Righteous Brothers and the Kingston Trio.   I may not actively seek out listening to any of those at this point, but I still remember the words to all the songs and hearing one of them instantly takes me back to being in that station wagon with my parents and brother.   Just last weekend, after finally getting a table in Giacomo's in the North End of Boston on the Saturday night before the Boston marathon (no easy feat), I heard the Righteous Brothers "You're My Soul & Inspiration."  It was like I was transported back 25 years sitting in the living room while my dad played the album.

Now TV and movie soundtracks are replete with music that invokes a sense of nostalgia.   The only trouble is, if you use a well-known song, it is competing with other possible memories attached.    It is almost as if there needs to be a waiting period to prominently feature a song in a movie.   It also presents a challenge for writers as to how to incorporate (and if they should) a particular song into a scene.   I really admire those who can incorporate music in an unconventional manner, in a way it has never been used before.  An instance comes to mind in which a beloved character from my past was linked to a musician that came to enjoy later in life.   As I have mentioned before, I am a huge NIN fan, and consider Trent Reznor to be a musical innovator, particularly with lyrics.   His song "Hurt" is a powerful example, one that was covered by the late great Johnny Cash.   However, some bold individual made a video using the song "Hurt" and showcasing Kermit the Frog as a heroin addict.   This icon from my childhood was now shown in a distinctly more modern, adult light.  I may have been offended, had I not considered a humorous, satirical perspective.  I wonder what Trent Reznor thinks of it.

I think a lot of people use this entertainment nostalgia as a tool for dealing with life.  Why else would we buy movies or songs but to view them repeatedly, or at least have them to experience when we like?  With a modern culture of instant access, it has become a way to comfort ourselves, excite ourselves, or gain new perspective.   It is entertainment not just to entertain, but as therapy.