I’ve watched very many films—very bad ones—for a single line only, and I’m gradually realising how these one-liners pave my sense of artificiality. But I’ll be all right, I guess. It’s not like we stop making dinners just because we burn our fingers once or twice. For now, though, I think I’ll stick to silent cinema. Who knows, maybe it will be like those avocado sandwiches and chamomile tea that you first eat to soothe an upset stomach, but after a while, they simply become your regular breakfast.
If I were to play a word association game, the first thing that comes to mind when love is mentioned would be films.
I don’t know how well it describes love, but it certainly says quite a bit about me, especially since I’m writing this at 1 a.m., after a day spent in my pyjamas watching ‘Une nouvelle amie’ and ‘A Single Man’
I adore Helena Bonham Carter, but for whatever reason, any time I see her, I picture a crazy cat lady. But this aside, I just watched Conversations with Other Women, and there is a one-liner there that I just love. It goes like this: a woman played by Bonham Carter says, “You’re just a dirty old pervert,” to which a man played by Aaron Eckhart replies, “Yes, I am. But I’m your dirty old pervert.” If only I had a chance to say something like that.
I just finished watching a film that made a huge impression on me. It’s Mayday, written and directed by Karen Cinorre in her feature directorial debut. If this is not a one-time lucky shot, I predict a bright future for her in the world of film. I came across this film by accident and was actually inclined to skip it because it had very poor reviews; for example, IMDb only gave it a 4.4 out of 10 with about 1,800 voters, which suggests a solid rating. Luckily, I listened to my gut and watched it anyway.
It’s a film about the emotional healing of a young woman who is a victim of sexual assault. This whole process is shown as a fantasy story taking place in an alternative reality of a world resembling the world of World War II, but in which women fight against men. Every one of the women has been a victim in the real world, and each deals with the pain in a different way, one of which is killing men in any way possible. They use the radio to send a distress call, and when the male soldiers respond, the women send them the coordinates of the place where the rescue ship is sunk upon arrival (the film takes place over the sea), like sirens leading sailors to the rocks. When the protagonist is attacked again by a male soldier on land, they capture him and then let him run just to hunt him down—the predator becomes the prey.
It is a complex story, with twists that surprise and an ending that brings a glimmer of hope. To give a taste, here are three dialogues that have a lot of importance to the film’s narrative, but without context so as not to give too much away.
Ana (protagonist): I’m an easy target.
Marsha (leader of a group of women): Never say that. You need to stop hurting yourself and start hurting others.
Marsha: Can’t sleep?
Ana: I had a bad dream.
Marsha: Don’t worry. All your dreams will die soon enough.
I like Monday blues, pure peppermint tea, and the smooth touch of piano keys. I make flatbread using my own recipe, find washing dishes by hand calming, and respect the spiders living in my bathroom.
I buy books in second-hand bookshops for the dedications and random notes left inside by previous owners. If there is a film that particularly appeals to me, I watch it over and over again, even several times a day if time allows. I also never treat music as background noise, and if I feel like listening to something, I make sure to pay it full attention.
Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night or can’t fall asleep at all, and if that happens, I get up to write a verse or two. In principle, I could say that I quite like myself and my life if it weren’t for the thorns of everything I hate. It turns out that the door to someone’s soul is in the shadows.
I found ‘The Help’ in the cheapest DVD section of my favourite second-hand film shop, and the strange thing was not the place, not even the price, but that the disc was in perfect condition, as if no one had ever touched it, not once, while all the other DVDs I bought had typical signs of wear. It is not like I was complaining about buying what is basically a new disc with a great film for pennies. Call me a snob, but standing in front of the shelf, I was having trouble understanding how someone let it out of their hands in the first place.
Only back at home did I find many critical voices of African-Americans accusing the film and the book it is based on of trivialising systemic racism during the 1960s in America. What is more, some of the leading cast members even expressed regret for taking part in it. There were words like betrayal, the Magical Negro character, and the white saviour trope. After all this, I still decided to keep this film in my collection. As imperfect as it might be, it taught me something, albeit indirectly, and even if only for that reason, it is worth having.
hidden pilcrow 