Maybe I’m having a moment of selective memory here, but for me there really weren’t any two better movies in 2004 than Closer and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Both are movies that linger – I haven’t stopped thinking about them since the day I went to the theater. Beyond that, they don’t really have much in common. Both are about relationships, I guess. Though Closer is more about people interacting while Eternal Sunshine is more about our inner lives, our memories. I’ve been having the urge to sit down and watch Eternal Sunshine again lately, but tonight Diana turned on Closer before she went to bed, so I’m watching it all the way through for the first time since in the theater, I think. I own it, but it’s not really the kind of thing you’d watch on a summer afternoon. I’ve put in the DVD for a few scenes, but not the whole thing.
I’m struck by the pessimism of this movie, which is really just a kind of honesty, an open discussion of a reality we gloss over in day-to-day life. I am tempted to write that I do not know people who behave this way in real life, but in fact I do. I just don’t like to think about it. Still, it is reassuring to me to feel put off by these characters.
I’ve been in a dark mood lately. Not depressed, in which case I would probably embrace Closer’s ugliness, but dark. Maybe it’s my job, or Diana’s job. Maybe it’s the combined fatigue we all feel about our jobs. Do any of my friends really like what they do? I guess Robert doesn’t hate his gig, oh and Kane gets to make out with some German chick. (What’s that Trish? That should go in the “jobs that suck” column instead? Gotcha.)
Maybe it’s because October is here and I have decorated for Halloween and Corpse Bride is in theatres and yet ... it’s still ungodly hot. Fall is not really here in any meaningful sense. Maybe I just need a cool fall breeze on my face to brighten my mood. I tried to trick myself by breaking out “fall” songs and clothes and the like, but “This Time of Year” just really doesn’t work when it’s 99.
Added into this, to some degree, is the story I’m writing, which is an undeniably dark story. I tend to listen to “appropriate” music when writing and that’s starting to carry over to the rest of my day, as well. Gone from my speakers the last couple of weeks are the happy, carpe diem invocations of Dave Matthews Band or Jack Johnson. And that’s not unusual. DMB tends to be “summer music” for me, and I tend to listen to a lot of U2 and Pearl Jam in the fall and winter. But this isn’t like that. I’m listening to the really dark Tori Amos songs, and Nine Inch Nails, and Daniel Lanois. For God’s sake I found myself listening to Brian Eno yesterday. So clearly it’s getting a bit out of control.
I need to stop indulging it, I suppose. I went to the movies this week and saw A History of Violence, a dark and brutal movie. Strange how that didn’t help. But I have a thing about not really enjoying comedies when I’m by myself. Upside? There are still plenty of stupid comedies to be seen. 40 Year Old Virgin and Wedding Crashers are still in theaters and that Waiting movie comes out ... son, I think? Plus Wallace and Gromit this weekend. And maybe not so much with the Closer before bedtime anymore.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Well, got some bad news:
It's 12:13am, and Natalie Portman appears to be crouching behind my toilet, a little beraggled and smelling a bit "gamey."
How far the mighty pink-haired strippers have fallen.
When the person who has moved across the country and found a "dream" job at an advertising agency puts herself into the "hate my job" column, it's really quite discouraging for the rest of us.
Maybe that's why they call it work and give us money to get us to do it.
Say, Lisa, was Natalie still cowering there this morning or did she sneak out in the night? I'd check my refrigerator if I were you, too, I've heard that she'll eat people out of house and home in search of a midnight snack.
Post a Comment