I'm a Re-Watcher

My husband cannot for the life of him understand the desire to own a movie on DVD. He's of the mind that once you've watched a movie, you've watched the movie. Unless it is unbelievably good, why in the world would you want to watch it again? And since his definition of unbelievably good would involve a movie in which the Buffalo Bills won the Superbowl and then are carried around the field by hoards of naked cheerleaders who begin to pillow fight, you can see why his portion of our DVD library numbers in the zero range.

I own quite a few movies. There are the kids' movies, of course, but my own collection is growing very nicely. It helps that you can pick up an older release DVD for as low as $5.50 or $7.50 at Walmart. Since a family meal at McDonald's costs more than that and is far less good for you, I don't balk at dropping less than $10 on occasion for a great movie.

I also own a couple of television shows on DVD. Whoever came up with the idea of putting an entire seasons' worth of television shows on DVD should be nominated man or woman of the millenium. There is nothing better than sitting down for a The West Wing marathon or a Queer as Folk fest. Episode after episode - minus commercials, naturally - you never have to suffer a cliff hanger for longer than it takes to upload the next disc.

But what is best about watching anything on DVD is that you can skip over all the boring stuff right to the very best parts. I'm a rewinder. By that I mean, if I love a particular scene or moment, I'll rewind it and watch it over and over and over again. I've been known to pop in a DVD just so I can watch a five minute clip. In fact, I'm in constant search for the technology that would allow me to take all of my favorite moments from anything I've ever watched and dump them all onto a Best Of DVD of my very own.

Last night I got a hankering to watch some Buffy and Spike action. In case you haven't been reading this blog for long, I'm one of those in the camp that although Angel was cute and sweet and all broody moody hunky hero-esque, he didn't come close to burning up the screen like the chemistry between Buffy and Spike. This preference could be because I started watching Buffy long after it was off the air and jumped in somewhere early Season 7, so I knew Buffy/Spike before I saw Buffy/Angel.

Anyway, I popped in one of my favorite episodes - After Life - and spent about an hour watching the same three scenes over and over again. The one when Spike sees Buffy for the first time after she's come back from the dead. The one when Spike tells Buffy that every night in his dreams, he saves her. And the one at the end, when Spike tells Buffy if she's in any pain, he will do anything to help her. Um...do you sense a theme here.

Actually, my point isn't so much that James Marsters rocks and I want Spike to come be my secret boyfriend. My point is that certain situations grab me around the throat and don't let go. But as much as I can watch a movie or a television show and know immediately what scenes I'll rewind until the disc breaks, this doesn't happen for me so much when I'm reading a book.

It is rare that I will return to a favorite book and reread just one scene. Honestly, I can only think of half a dozen scenes that I love so much I sigh whenever I think about it. One is in Julie Garwood's The Bride, when hero Alec has to break into a burning church to save heroine Jamie. It's a wonderful scene that I can picture in my mind. Another is in Judith McNaught's A Kingdom of Dreams when heroine Jennifer kisses hero Royce's scars. There are others as well.

But usually, it's the entire book that I return to when I'm in the mood for a reread rather than a particular scene. Maybe it's the characters or maybe the scenario. Actually, what usually happens is that I think of a particular scene, dig up the book, flip the pages to find said scene, then end up reading it and going to the beginning to read the entire thing front to back. It's why I never get very far when I try to clean out my bookshelves. I'll start flipping through something trying to find one or two vaguely remembered moments and end up sitting on the floor nose-deep in the story.

I have no idea why I am the way that I am. Are there others like me out there who are scene junkies?

You know, I'll bet my husband would rewatch any scenes involving naked cheerleaders and pillow fights. I'll bet he'd even buy the DVD.