Sunday, December 11, 2005
Perhaps Love
I watched perhaps love tonight.
It was... well directed. And well performed.
It wasn't so much a story, as a mishmash of mini-stories. They weren't woven together to form an immaculate whole. It almost felt like watching several short films, all playing simultaneously. It was a photo gallery of poignant moments that only a select few who had lived the stories would empathise with.
Everyone else will probably hate it. ("Catch no balls")
It isn't often that a movie moves me.It was a very visual, yet metaphorical movie. And it was oh, so sad.
I'll admit it. I cried.
Three times.
As my german friend likes to say,
"Damned thing."
*****
At one point, it transpires that the male lead has recorded a line of thought every year on his walkman, staying on in the hovel that he'd shared with the female lead while they were still lovers. Ten sentences, for ten years.
It goes from utter heartbreak, to being in denial (I think i'm over you, life isn't so bad, and I can smile again) to anger (I hate you, I hate you!) to bewilderment bordering on cynical humour (Are you dead? Why aren't you coming back?)
It moves her enough to move close to, and hold him as the tape continues to ramble on.
*****
In real life, would she - or any of you - have responded in kind?
I didn't think so.
*****
Everytime the male lead with the big eyebrows lay on his back, arms akimbo on the ice... or... somehow metaphorically falling through the ice, into the water of a swimming pool years later, sinking slowly to the floor of the pool, with a tiny trickle of bubbles streaming upwards from his nose and mouth...
... I remembered.
It was... well directed. And well performed.
It wasn't so much a story, as a mishmash of mini-stories. They weren't woven together to form an immaculate whole. It almost felt like watching several short films, all playing simultaneously. It was a photo gallery of poignant moments that only a select few who had lived the stories would empathise with.
Everyone else will probably hate it. ("Catch no balls")
It isn't often that a movie moves me.It was a very visual, yet metaphorical movie. And it was oh, so sad.
I'll admit it. I cried.
Three times.
As my german friend likes to say,
"Damned thing."
*****
At one point, it transpires that the male lead has recorded a line of thought every year on his walkman, staying on in the hovel that he'd shared with the female lead while they were still lovers. Ten sentences, for ten years.
It goes from utter heartbreak, to being in denial (I think i'm over you, life isn't so bad, and I can smile again) to anger (I hate you, I hate you!) to bewilderment bordering on cynical humour (Are you dead? Why aren't you coming back?)
It moves her enough to move close to, and hold him as the tape continues to ramble on.
*****
In real life, would she - or any of you - have responded in kind?
I didn't think so.
*****
Everytime the male lead with the big eyebrows lay on his back, arms akimbo on the ice... or... somehow metaphorically falling through the ice, into the water of a swimming pool years later, sinking slowly to the floor of the pool, with a tiny trickle of bubbles streaming upwards from his nose and mouth...
... I remembered.
