Our stomach clenches. We feel tight. We know it will be okay, it’s the movies, but we get sucked in. Every. Single. Time.
Perhaps it is an end of the world movie, perhaps an old war movie, it doesn’t matter, they are all the same. Total termination. There is a bomb that needs to be disarmed. Disarmed the bomb and save the world, fail and everyone dies.
We have plenty of time, 24 hours before detonation. The big wigs meet to make a decision. The clock continues to tick. We have twelve hours, we wonder if they can disarm the bomb in time. The big wigs have a last hope, they ask the reluctant hero, our leading character. There is a gauntlet to be run. The leading character has to climb through air vents or under barbed wire, he has to fight aliens or enemies before he can disarm the bomb. “Total termination in ten minutes.” The disembodied voice gives us a count down.
The main character is sweaty, bleeding from the nose or mouth. “Total termination in five minutes.”
We cross our fingers. We tell him to turn left and yell that one of the bad guys is behind him. He doesn’t hear us.
“Total termination in four minutes.” How is he going to make it?
“Total termination in three minutes.” Miraculously, he is close, but he is thwarted again.
“Total termination in two minutes.” He is still fighting, we hold our breath.
“Total termination in one minute.” He wins the fight, he gets to the bomb, 48 seconds, 47, 46, 45 . . . We feel like we are going to throw up. He tries to keep his hand steady. He can barely see.
He cuts the two wires, without touching the wire that shouldn’t be touched.
The clock stops at .01 – a heartbeat before total termination. We relax, the audience applauds.
Why do we love this kind of action? This is what real life feels like. These stories give us hope, we too can stop total termination, our lives will be saved. Just when you think it is impossible, just when the clock has ticked down to almost zero, the bomb is disengaged. Life goes on.