Willingly suspending disbelief

February 9th, 2009 |

Posted by Rio S.

While trolling the internet, I found a very interesting idea. In one of her movie reviews, Jessica Zafra said, “… true love is itself a suspension of disbelief.” Enter into the equation Valentine’s season and my apparent ineptitude for relationships and you’ve got an interesting topic – I don’t know where to start.

(The willing suspension of disbelief is basically a theory describing people’s “relationship to art”. You know how when watching a zombie flick, you accept the universe of the movie where an evil super corporation creates a virus that turns the infected into zombies that won’t die unless you shoot them in the head? That’s the willing suspension of disbelief. The theory is, people accept the unbelievable to appreciate the art.)

I’m smart, funny (or at least, I think I am), capable of social interaction, and I obviously don’t have problems with my self esteem. If I was a guy, theoretically, women would want to have children with me. But seeing as I’m a girl, I scare off most guys like the words “commitment” and “fidelity” do. (Most days, I don’t really mind being single, but then Valentine’s Day rolls along and boom! I’m miserable.)

For me, Valentine’s Day is a ploy to cash in by way of guilt tripping the target market, “Recession? What recession? Wouldn’t risk the wrath of your beloved just because there’s a recession, would you?” This ploy is so bloody effective that it also causes unattached people to feel like shit. As my friend Rem put it, “Valentine’s is the meanest holiday ever invented by Hallmark. Or Ferrero Rocher. Or BearHugs. Or BlueMagic.” Or Holland Tulips. Anyway, I digress.

So by the things said above, I – in theory – am suitable for a relationship, or at least, the gene pool. Then why am I one of those unattached people who feel like shit during Valentine’s? (And here’s the clincher: I’m not the only person asking this question, unattached or otherwise.) Taking the statement above into consideration, is it because I don’t willingly suspend my disbelief?

The willing suspension of disbelief in terms of love, hmm. Let’s consider suspension of disbelief for a minute. Suspending disbelief is basically believing, right? What if in terms of love, I stop half way – at Doubt? Is that why I can’t enjoy the show? Because I keep doubting it’s real? Or is it because I believe it but the other party doesn’t? (Ouch.)

Then there’s “willing.” Take the phrase “falling in love.” Falling suggests a certain degree of helplessness as opposed to jumping into. Jumping into hints at some sort of mental faculty at work (however faulty); you jumped, hence you fell.

I remember an old song – some old songs are bound to sucker punch you in one way or another – that goes, “Be weak, if you want to love.” I find myself braying, “I AM! HOW WEAK DO YOU FUCKING NEED ME TO BE?” whenever I hear the song. I mean, how weak are we talking about? I think I have been weak, and three failed relationships (four if you count that stint last year) stand to prove it.

I am capable of suspending my disbelief and I am capable of leaping against better judgment, so what’s the problem?

I usually tell my friends – those who think I’m any better at relationships than they are, in truth I am just as retarded when it comes right down to it (face it, everybody’s retarded when it comes right down to it) – that there must be something wrong with the selection process. Hmm. I do think that sometimes, the selection process could do some work (or a major overhaul), but really, can you control who you fall in love with?

It’s one of Life’s greatest jokes, the “Whoops! Wrong guy/girl” slapstick routine. Unless you have found your soulmate on the first try, I’m sure Life has pulled this one on you. It’s probably the cruelest joke in the book, and we all fall for it one time or another (or many times, if you’re as dumb as I am when it comes to these things).

Wait, maybe I’m looking at this from the wrong perspective. The willing suspension of disbelief is accepting the unbelievable, so if I put it in the same sentence as love (the fount of endless misery and fleeting happiness) it casts love as an unbelievable thing in itself. And it is unbelievable, romantic love, that is.

While I was having that epiphany, my friend Karl comes along and says, “In movies, you usually need a lot of special effects to keep disbelief suspended. Baka kulang lang yung sfx budget ng potential love partners mo so far.”

That’s another thing to consider; it’s a good point. Moviemakers these days spend truckloads of money for special effects so moviegoers with attention spans of flies can sit riveted to whatever’s going on onscreen. What’s funny is that some movies with heaping special effects aren’t necessarily good, as a good movie usually requires interesting characters and a plot.

And another thing, if your personal love story crashes and burns, does that mean you ran out of budget for fireworks and shit (not literal shit, Karl. You know what I mean)? But let’s not go there.

Going back to the epiphany, if love in itself is a suspension of disbelief then there really shouldn’t be any logical criteria for it – much less double standards. Everybody deserves that kind of happiness (and misery) in their lives. Yes, even that guy who looks like the result of a freak genetics lab accident who happens to be attached (to several girls, blah) deserves his own happiness and misery.