[Spoilers ahead for a movie that was released 12 years ago.]
I have the distinct memory of being 12 years old in a packed theater watching Ben Affleck die in Pearl Harbor and thinking I would never cry that hard again in my life. And then, of course, Josh Hartnett died. And things got a lot worse. I mean, deep, guttural, weeping sobs. I am not over, and will never be over, the heartbreaking Affleck-Beckinsale-Hartnett love triangle in Pearl Harbor.
At that vulnerable-but-naive point in my life, I could not imagine anything sadder than Ben Affleck dying, and I could not imagine anything cuter than a slightly mussed Josh Hartnett in a perfectly clean white tee and dog tags (the latter still gets me a little). In a movie where I should have been focused on the tragedies of war, all I could think about was if it was wrong to be OK with Evelyn getting down in the parachutes with her dead boyfriend’s best friend. I blame Michael Bay for that focus issue.
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