Ever since he was a teenager, Griff Rhys Jones has loved films that make him weep. He picks his favourites
I was about 13, on a sofa in front of the television on a wet Saturday afternoon. I was carelessly able to do that once – sigh. I was watching a black-and-white film. Or maybe the TV was black-and- white – probably. It was a story about a nanny caring for children all her life and then having to say farewell to the little treasures. Poor nanny. She ends up all alone, pathetically sad and abandoned – except that, in the final scene, all the children she has ever nannied, dozens of them, come thronging to her lonely room and hug her and tell her how much they all love her. Gawd. Cheap. Predictable. I absolutely adored it. I was left a snotty, emotional, teenage wreck by its trite sentimentality. So ... I am always searching for the teariest tear-jerker of them all. Except in books. Those that are my...
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