Heroic moments in a scary world

With the release of “Clash of the Titans” on April 2, a new generation of moviegoers will discover the fantastic heroics of Perseus (played by the hunky Sam Worthington) and the swooning, somebodysave me beauty of Andromeda (Alexa Davalos in the 2010 version). As fantastic as this new film looks, with its 3-D imagery and big screen effects, my heart is loyal to the original, a cheap ’80s flick featuring L.A. Law stud Harry Hamlin in the starring role.

In the 1981 “Clash of the Titans,” Perseus sets out on a complicated quest that involves capturing the winged Pegasus and slaying the snake-headed Medusa. He must save Andromeda from the Kraken, a terrifying sea creature. We watch as Perseus’ journey unfolds over the course of the film, where we have nearly two hours to admire his chiseled body and artfully curled hair. What’s more, we learn the mechanics of heroism through his actions and adventures, and we see what it takes to become a hero.

It’s interesting that we’re revisiting the Perseus myth today — not just in a film remake 30 years after the original, but in the retelling y

of a story that dates back to ancient Greece. The “Clash of the Titans” narrative, with its epic hero and imperiled damsel, is the standard by which many of us continue to measure our lives. We crave heroes in our everyday experience, and some seek out moments to play this role in an otherwise unheroic existence.

Which brings me to New York City, a shadowy, dangerous place, as grim as any fairytale’s dark forest. There are goblins beneath bridges and trolls in back alleys. On a subway ride during a recent visit, I looked up from the book in my lap to see a man in a dirty coat panting beside a pretty brunette on the crowded train. Other passengers stared, but no one moved. Suddenly, a wiry man in jeans and a leather jacket jumped to his feet and rushed to the woman’s side. “Is he with you?” he asked.

The woman shook her head. A current of tension passed down the length of the train. In New York, any move can be dangerous, and no one wants to be the hero. But the man squared off against the heavy breather, putting his thin frame in between the young woman and the creep.

“Screw you,” the breather said, still panting. “Why don’t you mind your own business?” The train stopped and the doors slid open. He slinked off the train, throwing obscenities in his wake.

The bystanders on the train let out the collective breath they had been holding. The woman smiled at the man who had stepped in to defend her, and he

returned a shy grin. He turned from her and maneuvered back through the crowd to his seat as the other subway riders beamed at him.

Heroic moments happen in the most unlikely times, and our heroes are often those we least expect. In love, we would do well to seek out these qualities in a partner so that should we need rescuing — from, say, a mythical sea beast — he’ll be there, sword in hand. 