Protected: Movie Festival
anne bancroft
Mrs. Robison has passed away.
Anne Bancroft 1931-2005
I have always thought she was incredibly brave and interesting in the parts she played. Let us not forget the sense of humor she must have had married to Mel Brooks.
I will miss her lovely voice.
the indian runner
I am watching the Indian Runner. The movie, inspired by a Springsteen song, was written and directed by Sean Penn. I think springsteen and penn could be the same person.
It is a starkly beautiful movie shot in the early 90's but has the very feel of a movie crafted out of 70's style cinema. There is an extraordinary collection of odd characters as well. The socially inept pink lady is a priceless detail.
In thinking about it, I tend to be attracted to those characters who are both beautiful and dark. Who are in constant conflict with their internal tenderness and the ghost that haunts their very soul making them crazy, mean or both. They are always adored and feared equally by the ones who love them.
What is frustrating to me is that I am unable to write one of my own. There is no clear way I can realistically demonstrate the conflict or the melancholy or the tortured internal struggle. And moreover, I do not seem to have a genuine way of showing human fallibility without trying to justify its existence or explain it away. I want to and I have tried over and over again to create someone I believe in. Always unsuccessfully.
I love the soundtrack...especially that Jefferson Airplane song. It just puts me in a mood.
I saw you. I saw you, coming back to me.
bravery
I was watching Tea with Mussolini yesterday. I'd never seen it before. There was this scene where Judi Dench's character throws herself in front of the wall of the tower to save the Tuscan beauty inside and in front of the menacing looking German soldier pointing his Lugar. I was sure she'd be shot....mostly because I am so sure of sad endings. It's gotten so I am expert in predicting them anymore and there's the other simple fact that that's all there seems to be anymore. Suddenly the rest of the women came barreling out to her rescue, Maggie Smith barking orders and Lillie Tomlin kicking not one but several of the Germans asses. I cried and it wasn't at all sad. I think I was relieved that they didn't shoot her and leave the poor dog orphaned.
Later on last night after I got back late, I watched the Dawson’s Creek episode I taped. (It's a guilty pleasure.) Joey's boyfriend left her this eloquent letter about how he wanted to be this person who lived life without indecision and who would never have any regrets. He told her how he couldn't be with her because she wasn't that person...yet at least.
So these two very unrelated stories actually brought out one distinct feeling for me. What it did make me think about was how I would never be that brave or that vain for that matter. I talk this big game about doing as I feel and living without regret but the truth is, as highlighted by Judi Dench and "Eddie", that I am the definitive "Joey Potter". I might look brash and be direct with my thoughts and emotions but the truth is I am closed off and scared to try anything that doesn't fit nicely into what is already comfortable and familiar to me. Not that I don't spend alot of time in introspection, but never before was this divergence in my character so clear to me as it was last night.
I'm not sure what I'll do with the information but I'm wondering if at thirty-three if I can learn any new tricks...
I miss waking to the trees
I am disconnected today...maybe just disarranged. I woke a few days ago and had to lay still for a brief moment to recover from forgetting where I was sleeping. What's more, my sleep has been fitful and uneasy. I think it is the new surrounding. Though, I often suffer from insomnia so there's no real measure of comparison.
I don't really miss my old home. Things are easier here. I am home sooner than not. I have so many more things readily at my disposal. I do miss waking to the trees. My old bedroom was actually a porch so it was mostly windows. Every morning I was surrounded by the trees swaying to and fro...the sounds of nature. Here in the cul-de-sac it is just quiet.
This afternoon after my meeting, I snuck off to a movie, Igby Goes Down. I am enamored of movies...a dark theater, the visual overload, the anonymity of it all seems to fulfill me. This movie, I believe would draw similar comparisons to Catcher in the Rye and a lead character like Holden Caulfield. What did I see?...disenfranchised but privileged youth, love and hate for the fragmented and dysfunctional family unit, drugs and subtle sexuality.
One thing that seemed a common theme was Igby's lack of future. What did he believe was his path? Where was he headed? That he was avoiding the culture he felt was dictated to him by society. It brings me to the questions I asked myself all the time. Who am I? Am I living the life I really want? Do I even know what that would be? I am sure it is a questions that many people ask themselves. The 'why am I here syndrome'. But I wonder, would I be asking if I was doing it?
Most of the time I am so in the present I can only think far enough ahead to make sure I can do what I want today. Who cares right, tonight I'll go out listen to some music and just exist for the now.