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June 21, 2009
Moving Beyond Emotions By Falling into Film
There's nothing that puts life in perspective as beautifully as art.
We remember and learn through narratives in a way that cannot be duplicated by tables, graphs, or rational logic.
And so, the world continues to turn. Despite our best efforts to stop and get off.
I have been the "ideal" Netflix customer for four months. I held onto the same two disks for four months, never watching them, never returning them, and never canceling my membership. Then one day I sent them off in the mail and got The Savages and Lars and The Real Girl in return.
On Friday, I watched Lars and The Real Girl. I'm only sad I didn't see it before attending a random awards ceremony, where the writer of that poignant piece was honored. (Nancy Oliver also wrote for Six Feet Under and writes for True Blood.)
It took a long time, and many splendid reviews, before I could decide that I needed to see a movie about a man and his blow up doll. And I'm glad I did.
Tonight, I saw The Savages. Honestly, I'm not clear what I thought it was. I really had no idea I was consigning myself to watching someone's life go from retirement community to nursing home to death in two hours. It's been awhile since I saw an indie flick, full of freeze frames on empty sets, pacing that feels as slow as real life, and ugly characters who are difficult to like.
I have to say, if I hadn't looked at the Rotten Tomatoes entry, I would never believe anyone calling that film a comedy. Then again, now I know why I put it on my queue to begin with: because I vaguely remembered it as a happy indie. I'm sure many viewers had the same reaction I did; it made me question whether I had spent enough time with my grandma when she was in nursing homes as I could have or should have. It made me remember how lucky I was that Elsie was mostly there towards the end of her life, even if she wasn't the same person she was before her stroke.
[Don't read this is you don't like spoilers], my favorite part of the movie was when the neurotic sister kicked her married lover to the curb. I can understand the pull of a married man, but an ongoing relationship with someone who is not even legally allowed to be completely yours is difficult for me to reconcile in my mind. I cast no judgment on others, but I personally have found some simple rules to live by: if I do anything in my present or future that couldn't be shared with my mom, it's not something I should be doing. Obviously, I can't change the past, but for the present, it's a solid moral line I dare not cross.
In any event, the best thing I can say about the Savages is that it forced me to spend 2 hours not thinking about myself or the Twilight series (which I finished today) or my apathy towards political activism (which I'm sure will dissipate soon), so it served it's purpose well.
Will I ever watch it again? Only if you paid me a lot of money. On the other hand, I could watch Lars and the Real Girl again. In the end, a good movie needs to both speak to an essential truth and be palatable enough for multiple viewings.
Posted by cj at June 21, 2009 09:44 PM