An internal debate on the lunar pullings of love
Cinema Paradiso....I like to translate that as the Cinema of Paradise. Never having seen the movie I am at luxury to make it as I will. Also, I love the music (score) and I am afraid now that the movie will not live up to the image I have in mind.
Very few things do....live up, that is, to the mind's picture. Why is that? Do we invest so much of ourselves in the ideal that that nothing compares. I suppose a lowering of expectations is warranted? How did she say it, "Anything less than extraordinary love is a waste of my time". Oh, how I used to love that line. I remember that actor. The movie is in black and white till the time the protagonist looks into his eyes. They go blue and then the movie gets its colour. I used to love the insinuation. He brought colour into her life. Or vice cersa. Indie cinema at its very best!
I recently saw that actor again in a B-, bordering on C-rated, film. He had aged so much. Somehow it wasn't the same anymore. Also the B/C-ness of the film took away from my idea of the earlier film. Dream for an Insomniac. Fitting actually. Both the men in my life (well, one's a boy) are fast asleep in the background. The window is open and the muslin sheer curtain is dancing lightly to the breeze while Desplat is playing the background. I walked out to the balcony and saw two shooting stars. They are an even bigger novelty than rain. Maybe someone is trying to make a point. I never professed to being particularly bright. Am barely catching on.
OK fine, damn it, I confess. I saw New Moon and bloody hell, I loved it. A lot. Go ahead and judge me! And while a third part of my mind is sitting in a dark corner, pointing and snickering away, I'll confess that I loved how the whole film tethered on a drawn breath, afraid of being released. It actually captured that feeling. And if anything Desplat adds to it, than take away, with the score. Putting aside the whole Vampire vs Werewolves part of the film, I address here the conviction Bella has of her one true love. She says "don't make me choose because he'll win. It was always him"...fine, not verbatim, but to the effect. Is that a real sensation? Sometimes I believe. Sometimes I don't. Perhaps the only real love was unrequited (?). Love returned loses to real life; bills, diseases, fat ...and of course freckles :)
Someone asked me about love once. About going the distance and I offered my dismal(?) but protracted view on things and I think I bungled up. May be they were talked out of it. Only time will be prove me correct or incorrect. But I sometimes think that perhaps I should have lent a pair (figuratively of course) when the one's on board were not enough. Should not that particular mistake (if it was that) have been made than not? Or will it remain perfect and untarnished, now, that it has been forsaken?
I suppose time alone will stand witness.
(It is the weather)
:)
Very few things do....live up, that is, to the mind's picture. Why is that? Do we invest so much of ourselves in the ideal that that nothing compares. I suppose a lowering of expectations is warranted? How did she say it, "Anything less than extraordinary love is a waste of my time". Oh, how I used to love that line. I remember that actor. The movie is in black and white till the time the protagonist looks into his eyes. They go blue and then the movie gets its colour. I used to love the insinuation. He brought colour into her life. Or vice cersa. Indie cinema at its very best!
I recently saw that actor again in a B-, bordering on C-rated, film. He had aged so much. Somehow it wasn't the same anymore. Also the B/C-ness of the film took away from my idea of the earlier film. Dream for an Insomniac. Fitting actually. Both the men in my life (well, one's a boy) are fast asleep in the background. The window is open and the muslin sheer curtain is dancing lightly to the breeze while Desplat is playing the background. I walked out to the balcony and saw two shooting stars. They are an even bigger novelty than rain. Maybe someone is trying to make a point. I never professed to being particularly bright. Am barely catching on.
OK fine, damn it, I confess. I saw New Moon and bloody hell, I loved it. A lot. Go ahead and judge me! And while a third part of my mind is sitting in a dark corner, pointing and snickering away, I'll confess that I loved how the whole film tethered on a drawn breath, afraid of being released. It actually captured that feeling. And if anything Desplat adds to it, than take away, with the score. Putting aside the whole Vampire vs Werewolves part of the film, I address here the conviction Bella has of her one true love. She says "don't make me choose because he'll win. It was always him"...fine, not verbatim, but to the effect. Is that a real sensation? Sometimes I believe. Sometimes I don't. Perhaps the only real love was unrequited (?). Love returned loses to real life; bills, diseases, fat ...and of course freckles :)
Someone asked me about love once. About going the distance and I offered my dismal(?) but protracted view on things and I think I bungled up. May be they were talked out of it. Only time will be prove me correct or incorrect. But I sometimes think that perhaps I should have lent a pair (figuratively of course) when the one's on board were not enough. Should not that particular mistake (if it was that) have been made than not? Or will it remain perfect and untarnished, now, that it has been forsaken?
I suppose time alone will stand witness.
(It is the weather)
:)
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