The last weekend of the holidays (sigh - so long ago now!) I watched 3 movies. Anything for Her; Greenberg; and Lantana. I really enjoyed Lantana, especially as the end of Greenberg has a character with an atrocious Australian accent (not an Australian, by the way). So to hear, then, familiar accents and idioms, and see country that I know - wonderful.
I think I need to explain some of my mood here. The morning of the day I watched it, I went to church. The collect was for married people, and the sermon was about married people and people in relationships. I have never felt before the way I did in church that day. To watch Lantana that evening, then, was fortuitous. All these people in relationships, trying to navigate the minefield of living your own life but being a good partner, compromise, responsibility, honesty, deception, secrets, trust, betrayal, passion and lack of it - it reminded me that there are just as many problems in relationships as there are without.
We're presented with all these relationships, each connected to another whether they know it or not. And this was before Facebook! It's tempting to judge each relationship on how well they're doing - I admit it, I judged. And so I landed a few surprises along the way. The 'best' couple - not perfect, but they are so open with each other, no secrets - they are certainly tested when the husband is accused of being involved with the disappearance of the psychiatrist. And tested when the newly divorced neighbour starts flirting with him. But the wife sticks by her husband ("in good times and in bad").
One couple - the shrink and her man - are slightly infuriating. So calm, so 'shrink-like' - like there's no passion, just mature adults. But still waters run deep, and the discovery that they lost their child not so long ago explains a lot. I still wanted to them to have a good screaming match and then make up, but that was not to be. Their house though - wow. If you haven't been to the Hawkesbury river, or up around Hornsby with all that lovely bushland, put it on your bucket list. I'm slightly biased as this area of Sydney is in my blood, but I still maintain it's beautiful.
Anthony LaPaglia's character... I can't help liking him. True, he's having an affair. As his police partner says to him, he's got a perfectly good marriage (something which still eludes her) and he's "pissing all over it". His mid-life crises have an element of humour as well as desperation. His lack of anger management is starting to be a problem but (from this vantage point) I see that more as a sign of depression than bad character. After all, we are all flawed. There are very few among us who behave impeccably all of the time, even if we try. Sometimes, you need to fall off the wagon a bit to help you be better again in the future. And having to investigate the shrink's disappearance - more, when I think of it, the husband's lack of passion towards her - reminds him, shows him, how much he loves his wife, how much he cares for her, and how easily she might leave him and how dreadful that might be.
I think that it's this Shakespearean element of flawed character that makes this movie so appealing. We are all flawed, no one has a perfect relationship unless they are in la-la land, and we are all connected whether we know it or not.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Monday, 29 October 2012
Monday, 1 October 2012
Movie #23 - I Love You Phillip Morris
It's holidays. I'm watching movies (I do enjoy making use of the cheap Tuesdays at the video store) - I'll try not to flood you with movie posts though. Saturday I watched I Love You Phillip Morris.
If you haven't seen it, it's like a gay version of Catch Me If You Can. Fraud, prison, lies and love. Steven Russell (Jim Carrey) and Phillip Morris (Ewan McGregor) find love in prison. Phillip is so innocent and open; Steven is such a conman. Yet Phillip falls for Steven's lines, which, although cheesy and all those things lovers say to one another, are as true as he can make them. He really does love Phillip. And everything he does once they're out of prison is for love. Ooh, cue moral dilemmas.
On the one hand, I do appreciate that our society is not great in the treatment of ex-jailbirds. And often people with great brains and ingenuity cannot afford college degrees, for whatever reason. So if you're smart enough to pull off a job interview con, and then uphold your con with actual good work, maybe you've just saved yourself a few years and thousands and thousands of dollars. Swindling those with whom you work... getting a bit more charcoal here... Admittedly, his coworkers came across as boring twats (paraphrased a little). But how much money do you need, really? If someone really loves you, do they really need to prove it by showering you with gifts?
Towards the end of the movie (which is based on a true story), Phillip finally realises that Steven has been lying from the word Go. And he says something I imagine has been said, in some form or other, in countless relationships throughout time: "You were supposed to protect me. But you did nothing but make a fool out of me. And you expect me to love you?"
Steven admits what many of us ignore about ourselves: he lies. Sure, his were a little more far-reaching than what most of us do. But (especially in our younger, more malleable years), I think his words might apply to many of us: "Lies - to make people give me their money. Lies to make people love me. And lies to keep them from leaving me. And in the process I lost track of who I was." Well, maybe not the first bit. But we lie to change they way people see us, and if we keep on lying and not being honest with ourselves, it's really hard to know who we are. Knowing who we are is hard enough to begin with, but muddying the waters with lies just makes it even harder. We are social creatures, though, and sometimes we need a lie or two so we can stay in our social groups and survive...or try to find a different social group, even though change is so hard.
Other things about this movie: I loved the music! Set mostly in Texas, it had a quasi-mariachi feel to it. It's a true story - but I did question how exactly the prison romance would have worked, how Steven would have organised to be transferred and all that. The deep south - well. So much bible-belt feel, complete with prayers that go on and on and on, and the taxi driver who picks up Steven upon his release from jail the first time and starts telling him about Jesus, and the ex-wife who seemed so clueless ("Are the stealing and the gay thing related?", for example). Ewan McGregor (one of my favourite actors - if you've seen Down With Love you'll know what I mean) plays a part very similar to his fake character in Down With Love actually, the southern drawl and innocent personality. It has very funny parts ("Being gay is really expensive") but also bits that made me cry. It's still got me thinking about the whole love thing. Why do we love who we love? How do we know what's a lie? And if we really love someone, how much do those lies matter?
If you haven't seen it, it's like a gay version of Catch Me If You Can. Fraud, prison, lies and love. Steven Russell (Jim Carrey) and Phillip Morris (Ewan McGregor) find love in prison. Phillip is so innocent and open; Steven is such a conman. Yet Phillip falls for Steven's lines, which, although cheesy and all those things lovers say to one another, are as true as he can make them. He really does love Phillip. And everything he does once they're out of prison is for love. Ooh, cue moral dilemmas.
On the one hand, I do appreciate that our society is not great in the treatment of ex-jailbirds. And often people with great brains and ingenuity cannot afford college degrees, for whatever reason. So if you're smart enough to pull off a job interview con, and then uphold your con with actual good work, maybe you've just saved yourself a few years and thousands and thousands of dollars. Swindling those with whom you work... getting a bit more charcoal here... Admittedly, his coworkers came across as boring twats (paraphrased a little). But how much money do you need, really? If someone really loves you, do they really need to prove it by showering you with gifts?
Towards the end of the movie (which is based on a true story), Phillip finally realises that Steven has been lying from the word Go. And he says something I imagine has been said, in some form or other, in countless relationships throughout time: "You were supposed to protect me. But you did nothing but make a fool out of me. And you expect me to love you?"
Steven admits what many of us ignore about ourselves: he lies. Sure, his were a little more far-reaching than what most of us do. But (especially in our younger, more malleable years), I think his words might apply to many of us: "Lies - to make people give me their money. Lies to make people love me. And lies to keep them from leaving me. And in the process I lost track of who I was." Well, maybe not the first bit. But we lie to change they way people see us, and if we keep on lying and not being honest with ourselves, it's really hard to know who we are. Knowing who we are is hard enough to begin with, but muddying the waters with lies just makes it even harder. We are social creatures, though, and sometimes we need a lie or two so we can stay in our social groups and survive...or try to find a different social group, even though change is so hard.
Other things about this movie: I loved the music! Set mostly in Texas, it had a quasi-mariachi feel to it. It's a true story - but I did question how exactly the prison romance would have worked, how Steven would have organised to be transferred and all that. The deep south - well. So much bible-belt feel, complete with prayers that go on and on and on, and the taxi driver who picks up Steven upon his release from jail the first time and starts telling him about Jesus, and the ex-wife who seemed so clueless ("Are the stealing and the gay thing related?", for example). Ewan McGregor (one of my favourite actors - if you've seen Down With Love you'll know what I mean) plays a part very similar to his fake character in Down With Love actually, the southern drawl and innocent personality. It has very funny parts ("Being gay is really expensive") but also bits that made me cry. It's still got me thinking about the whole love thing. Why do we love who we love? How do we know what's a lie? And if we really love someone, how much do those lies matter?
Friday, 6 July 2012
Movie #18 - Frida
I watched Frida last week, over 2 nights, and very much enjoyed it. It would have been very annoying for anyone watching this with me - I
take notes when watching movies now, and so a 2 hour movie can take substantially longer. It has taken a bit to digest Frida though, a process I suspect will continue for some time. Right now, it's still unfocused in my head so I'm hoping writing this will help it settle. I wonder if watching this movie is totally different for non-creative types? Well, it must be, as everyone sees things differently depending on their situation. It would be interesting to be someone else though to see this movie from a different perspective.
I like seeing things. I've noticed that if there is a lot of dialogue, I notice less visually. (Incidentally, I just watched the episode of NCIS which includes the line from my sub-heading; I've also been reading a Jasper Fforde book which includes descriptions of the RealWorld from a BookWorld perspective - the narrator is amazed at how much detail is in the backgrounds. I was on high alert for backgrounds while watching the show). While there was a lot to absorb aurally, the visuals were so well done in Frida. Which is a good thing for a movie about artists. The way in which Frida's artwork was incorporated into the movie was seamless and so clever, and the camera work - mwah. Actually, the first thing I noticed was the setting. One of my favourite authors is Isabel Allende, and the setting, particularly of the parents' house in Mexico City, was just like looking into my mental image of many of Allende's books.
There were four things about the messages in the movie that stood out for me. 1 - relationships. 2 - why we do art. 3 - life isn't perfect, it's how we live it that matters. 4 - you can achieve as much as you think you can achieve.
1. Seeing the way marriage is approached - from a Mexican, Communist, artistic, early 20th century viewpoint - was interesting. Especially for someone who is artistic, single, and who plays at weddings. Frequently. I know that relationships can work - my parents are still together after more than 4 decades, and I have other couples in my circle who look like they'll be together forever. But I'm single, and I have many couples in my circle who have not remained together forever. And, playing at weddings, you can get very cynical. Aside from the soppy vows and princess syndrome, if cracks are evident to outsiders on the wedding day, it doesn't bode well for a long and happy life together. Not to mention the statistical likelihood of divorce. There were a few lines in this movie that caused me to pause and write down the quote. The first was at Frida and Diego's wedding, from a Communist Party guest: "Marriage is, at worst, a hostile political act, a way for small-minded men to keep women in the house and out of the way, wrapped in the guise of tradition and conservative religious nonsense. At best, it is a happy delusion, these two people who truly love each other and have no idea how miserable they are about to make each other". In this current climate, it's probably not quite so much the first option - although it's not out of the question - and I would hope it's not really too much the latter. But I guess it depends on your choice of partner.
Frida entered into this marriage fully aware of her new husband's character. She knew he was a womaniser. Early on, she asked her father "What do you think is important for a good marriage?" "A short memory" is his reply. But, after one of many 'indiscretions', which happen too often to be slipped under the rug of a short memory, she says she cannot love him for what he is not. And, she loves him (sometimes, in that very passionate borderline love-hate way). Women, of course, see love and fidelity differently. We want to find a Leon Trotsky (maybe not with the affair-with-the-artist bit, but nobody's perfect), "someone who's willing to sacrifice a little of his own pleasure instead of hurting the woman who loves him". The fact that Diego comes back to her late in life and is true to the end made me cry, to be honest. How lovely - but how frustrating! Maybe creative men can only be true when they've had all their (extensive) running-around time. And what that means for me... it can be a little disheartening. But, moving on. I'm going to jump to numbers 3 and 4 here.
3. Even though Frida had a challenging life - a traumatic accident, a life of physical pain, a philandering husband, being an artist - she really lived. She really loved. (4) - She set her own goals, based on her own ideas for her life. Doctors telling her she would never walk again did not stop her from walking again. Society saying young women should marry and reproduce did not stop her dancing a tango with another woman (and more...), marrying late and not having any children (except for one who died at birth). She lived her life and endured much more than she thought she could. There were some things that seem to be universal, though. Infidelity hurts. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. The kitchen is the best place to get to know someone, and cooking is a great way to bond, even if it's with your husband's ex-wife who is living upstairs and still cooking him breakfast. Our hopes and expectations are two different things: we can hope to marry someone who will be faithful, but if we expect it we will be disappointed.
2 - I could really identify with Frida's drive for art. My most productive practice sessions, and inspiring or passionate performances, all come from emotion. As someone who has a generally ordinary life, this can be a bit of a drag. But that need to turn to a creative outlet - a bit like the 'pensieve' that Dumbledore uses in Harry Potter - is such a huge part of life, a natural reaction. How do non-creative types deal with heartbreak??? And not just as a way to deal with what life throws at you. "If you're a real painter you'll paint because you can't live without painting, you'll paint til you die". Of course, this also comes with the existential angst with which I am well-acquainted - "My little paintings can't mean anything to anyone but me". On one level, there is little purpose in what we do - at least, in terms of furthering humanity (we're not curing cancer or anything) - but there is something to be said for creative expression which connects us and makes us feel.
Writing this has helped the digestive process, as hoped. Accept others for who they are, with all their blessings and faults; live your own life the best way you can; live as much as you can; do what you are driven to do and you will have lived your life well; happiness and fulfillment are not the same thing. And, perhaps, make sure you can cook.
Nearly forgot the photo for today:
Winter sunlight hitting the last pear and lemon in the bowl.
I like seeing things. I've noticed that if there is a lot of dialogue, I notice less visually. (Incidentally, I just watched the episode of NCIS which includes the line from my sub-heading; I've also been reading a Jasper Fforde book which includes descriptions of the RealWorld from a BookWorld perspective - the narrator is amazed at how much detail is in the backgrounds. I was on high alert for backgrounds while watching the show). While there was a lot to absorb aurally, the visuals were so well done in Frida. Which is a good thing for a movie about artists. The way in which Frida's artwork was incorporated into the movie was seamless and so clever, and the camera work - mwah. Actually, the first thing I noticed was the setting. One of my favourite authors is Isabel Allende, and the setting, particularly of the parents' house in Mexico City, was just like looking into my mental image of many of Allende's books.
There were four things about the messages in the movie that stood out for me. 1 - relationships. 2 - why we do art. 3 - life isn't perfect, it's how we live it that matters. 4 - you can achieve as much as you think you can achieve.
1. Seeing the way marriage is approached - from a Mexican, Communist, artistic, early 20th century viewpoint - was interesting. Especially for someone who is artistic, single, and who plays at weddings. Frequently. I know that relationships can work - my parents are still together after more than 4 decades, and I have other couples in my circle who look like they'll be together forever. But I'm single, and I have many couples in my circle who have not remained together forever. And, playing at weddings, you can get very cynical. Aside from the soppy vows and princess syndrome, if cracks are evident to outsiders on the wedding day, it doesn't bode well for a long and happy life together. Not to mention the statistical likelihood of divorce. There were a few lines in this movie that caused me to pause and write down the quote. The first was at Frida and Diego's wedding, from a Communist Party guest: "Marriage is, at worst, a hostile political act, a way for small-minded men to keep women in the house and out of the way, wrapped in the guise of tradition and conservative religious nonsense. At best, it is a happy delusion, these two people who truly love each other and have no idea how miserable they are about to make each other". In this current climate, it's probably not quite so much the first option - although it's not out of the question - and I would hope it's not really too much the latter. But I guess it depends on your choice of partner.
Frida entered into this marriage fully aware of her new husband's character. She knew he was a womaniser. Early on, she asked her father "What do you think is important for a good marriage?" "A short memory" is his reply. But, after one of many 'indiscretions', which happen too often to be slipped under the rug of a short memory, she says she cannot love him for what he is not. And, she loves him (sometimes, in that very passionate borderline love-hate way). Women, of course, see love and fidelity differently. We want to find a Leon Trotsky (maybe not with the affair-with-the-artist bit, but nobody's perfect), "someone who's willing to sacrifice a little of his own pleasure instead of hurting the woman who loves him". The fact that Diego comes back to her late in life and is true to the end made me cry, to be honest. How lovely - but how frustrating! Maybe creative men can only be true when they've had all their (extensive) running-around time. And what that means for me... it can be a little disheartening. But, moving on. I'm going to jump to numbers 3 and 4 here.
3. Even though Frida had a challenging life - a traumatic accident, a life of physical pain, a philandering husband, being an artist - she really lived. She really loved. (4) - She set her own goals, based on her own ideas for her life. Doctors telling her she would never walk again did not stop her from walking again. Society saying young women should marry and reproduce did not stop her dancing a tango with another woman (and more...), marrying late and not having any children (except for one who died at birth). She lived her life and endured much more than she thought she could. There were some things that seem to be universal, though. Infidelity hurts. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. The kitchen is the best place to get to know someone, and cooking is a great way to bond, even if it's with your husband's ex-wife who is living upstairs and still cooking him breakfast. Our hopes and expectations are two different things: we can hope to marry someone who will be faithful, but if we expect it we will be disappointed.
2 - I could really identify with Frida's drive for art. My most productive practice sessions, and inspiring or passionate performances, all come from emotion. As someone who has a generally ordinary life, this can be a bit of a drag. But that need to turn to a creative outlet - a bit like the 'pensieve' that Dumbledore uses in Harry Potter - is such a huge part of life, a natural reaction. How do non-creative types deal with heartbreak??? And not just as a way to deal with what life throws at you. "If you're a real painter you'll paint because you can't live without painting, you'll paint til you die". Of course, this also comes with the existential angst with which I am well-acquainted - "My little paintings can't mean anything to anyone but me". On one level, there is little purpose in what we do - at least, in terms of furthering humanity (we're not curing cancer or anything) - but there is something to be said for creative expression which connects us and makes us feel.
Writing this has helped the digestive process, as hoped. Accept others for who they are, with all their blessings and faults; live your own life the best way you can; live as much as you can; do what you are driven to do and you will have lived your life well; happiness and fulfillment are not the same thing. And, perhaps, make sure you can cook.
Nearly forgot the photo for today:
Sunday, 4 March 2012
Movie #9 - The Siege
A friend has loaned me 5 movies, with the promise of more to come. A wide variety is promised (but no chick flicks), and I kicked off the viewing with The Siege. Just like The Bank, this was an interesting one to watch now, as opposed to when it was released. A prediction of world events that did actually occur.
On the surface, this is your typical action movie - bad guys, good guys, turf wars, token female or two, deception, trust issues. Things that struck me about this one though were the faceless-ness of terrorism, and the typical human reactions of ordinary people as well as people entrusted with protecting us. Guilt, anger and fear were the overriding emotions.
I know that, when a disaster occurs, we need someone to blame. If we don't have anyone to blame, how will we know whose fault it was? How will we isolate someone/people with whom we should no longer associate? It creates such an 'us and them' existence that makes us feel safe and secure initially but, as the movie shows, develops into such a negative, closed-off view of the world that is really unsustainable. Is it possible to show love even when we are hurting and scared?
Even though we, as voters in a democracy, have the freedom to criticise our leaders, do we ever put ourselves in their shoes in this sort of situation? How would we react if their initial reaction was to forgive? And when our 'us and them' mentality actually hurts someone close to us, how do we redraw the line in the sand? It's all well and good to say, it's this particular group that we don't like - they look different, they don't assimilate, they act differently, pray differently, eat differently - but when we start to live our lives on one side of a line, we limit ourselves and further the problems that initiated the conflict. And if someone is technically from that group but has done enough to prove themselves to us to be included in our 'ok' group, at times of stress do we banish them back to the other side of the line or do we recognise our common humanity?
A lot of what I saw in this movie, as well as so much I have seen in the last 10 or so years, has shown me that we are all the same. Well, not entirely... But every society has its rebels. Every person needs to belong, somewhere. Every person needs to love and be loved. We cannot judge a whole race based on the actions of a few individuals. In this multicultural society, we cannot assign a person to a particular group based on appearance. I know it's hard, but can we ever produce a society actually based on love and acceptance?
On the surface, this is your typical action movie - bad guys, good guys, turf wars, token female or two, deception, trust issues. Things that struck me about this one though were the faceless-ness of terrorism, and the typical human reactions of ordinary people as well as people entrusted with protecting us. Guilt, anger and fear were the overriding emotions.
I know that, when a disaster occurs, we need someone to blame. If we don't have anyone to blame, how will we know whose fault it was? How will we isolate someone/people with whom we should no longer associate? It creates such an 'us and them' existence that makes us feel safe and secure initially but, as the movie shows, develops into such a negative, closed-off view of the world that is really unsustainable. Is it possible to show love even when we are hurting and scared?
Even though we, as voters in a democracy, have the freedom to criticise our leaders, do we ever put ourselves in their shoes in this sort of situation? How would we react if their initial reaction was to forgive? And when our 'us and them' mentality actually hurts someone close to us, how do we redraw the line in the sand? It's all well and good to say, it's this particular group that we don't like - they look different, they don't assimilate, they act differently, pray differently, eat differently - but when we start to live our lives on one side of a line, we limit ourselves and further the problems that initiated the conflict. And if someone is technically from that group but has done enough to prove themselves to us to be included in our 'ok' group, at times of stress do we banish them back to the other side of the line or do we recognise our common humanity?
A lot of what I saw in this movie, as well as so much I have seen in the last 10 or so years, has shown me that we are all the same. Well, not entirely... But every society has its rebels. Every person needs to belong, somewhere. Every person needs to love and be loved. We cannot judge a whole race based on the actions of a few individuals. In this multicultural society, we cannot assign a person to a particular group based on appearance. I know it's hard, but can we ever produce a society actually based on love and acceptance?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)