Quelqu'un M'a Dit - Carla Brun...
i had serious plans for today's post, but then i watched (500) Days of Summer... AGAIN. i tossed it in, thinking a movie i've seen FOUR TIMES might be good "background noise" for other tasks--stupid. i watched the whole thing without blinking.
what i most recently noticed about this engaging film is that it caused me to obsess about the color blue--without my recognizing it--since the first time i watched it with susie q; there's so much blue in the film, which could easily signify sadness (and i suppose in a meek way it does, given the plot), but instead it reads as a very whimsical color, most obviously when cartoon bluebirds land on Joseph Gordon-Levitt's character's shoulder in the mode of Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah. in fact, it may have been one of the little nudges i needed to begin this blog and its search for happiness.
my reaction to this movie--my watching it over and over solely because it makes me stupid-happy--is exactly what people mean when they talk about "feel-good" movies. an innocuous phrase? no! it sounds like drug-pushing. i often feel the need to defend my distaste for certain romantic comedies and other blockbusters by claiming that films are too good for such baseness. if they are not smart or artful or provocative, and if they only make us "feel" in the most generic way, mindlessly and without challenge, it is a most dangerous thing. it is to be, to steal T.S. Eliot's phrase, "like a patient etherized upon a table." brainwashers all! disgusting slobs!
what, then, makes my utter indulgence in this not-a-love-story any different? i could mention the ingenious tennis ball-bouncing scene that symbolizes one character's catching up with the beat of his dreams, the clever jokes, the far-from-pretentious allusions/homages to film, or any other appropriately critical response, but it's more base and obvious than all that: it's (horror of horrors!) Identification. it's that, as my student writers often proclaim, i can relate to it: i know the world where lovers begin by recognizing the smiths. i know playing house in ikea, i know the drunk friend who gives you away, and i know talking over pancakes.
i suppose what i'm getting at is that it's time to try merry.
i had serious plans for today's post, but then i watched (500) Days of Summer... AGAIN. i tossed it in, thinking a movie i've seen FOUR TIMES might be good "background noise" for other tasks--stupid. i watched the whole thing without blinking.
what i most recently noticed about this engaging film is that it caused me to obsess about the color blue--without my recognizing it--since the first time i watched it with susie q; there's so much blue in the film, which could easily signify sadness (and i suppose in a meek way it does, given the plot), but instead it reads as a very whimsical color, most obviously when cartoon bluebirds land on Joseph Gordon-Levitt's character's shoulder in the mode of Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah. in fact, it may have been one of the little nudges i needed to begin this blog and its search for happiness.
my reaction to this movie--my watching it over and over solely because it makes me stupid-happy--is exactly what people mean when they talk about "feel-good" movies. an innocuous phrase? no! it sounds like drug-pushing. i often feel the need to defend my distaste for certain romantic comedies and other blockbusters by claiming that films are too good for such baseness. if they are not smart or artful or provocative, and if they only make us "feel" in the most generic way, mindlessly and without challenge, it is a most dangerous thing. it is to be, to steal T.S. Eliot's phrase, "like a patient etherized upon a table." brainwashers all! disgusting slobs!
what, then, makes my utter indulgence in this not-a-love-story any different? i could mention the ingenious tennis ball-bouncing scene that symbolizes one character's catching up with the beat of his dreams, the clever jokes, the far-from-pretentious allusions/homages to film, or any other appropriately critical response, but it's more base and obvious than all that: it's (horror of horrors!) Identification. it's that, as my student writers often proclaim, i can relate to it: i know the world where lovers begin by recognizing the smiths. i know playing house in ikea, i know the drunk friend who gives you away, and i know talking over pancakes.
i suppose what i'm getting at is that it's time to try merry.
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