I accomplished one of my major goals for the week and today is only Monday. I introduced myself to the cute girl at work. “Nice to meet you,” and then we both walked away.
I’m doing the Netflix thing. And the satellite TV thing. It’s probably a good thing I got my last paycheck today from the previous employer — ten days late, but who’s counting. (I am and I was pissed.)
So far I’ve watched a couple movies. “Before Sunset” “Before Sunrise” is 100% worth watching. It’s an excellent romantic film. The plot is simple (an American meets a French girl on the train and they hang out for the night), but portrayed excellently. It’s one of the better jobs I’ve seen of actors conveying emotion through body language.
Tonight I watched “Beautiful Girls.” Somehow I think Rosie O’Donnell was supposed to be one of these “Beautiful Girls.” If they’d scrubbed her role out of the movie, it would’ve been good. It’s not one of those movies you watch and feel satisfied and more alive after watching. You see it, get done watching, and think: “Yeah, that’s kinda how it goes.” People live, screw up, and get some sort of lesson out of it. This movie was just an example, and probably not the best one, but it was alright.
Going to bed by 10pm is kind of a drag. It makes me feel old. Then again, watching a movie wherein the main characters discuss love/marriage, and the perceived difficulty of finding love when approaching 30… well, it’s not exactly something I’ve ever wanted to be able to relate to other people about. And this will be what I’m thinking about while I try to fall asleep.
Or maybe just impossible spaceships and planets and aliens. I will hide in science fiction for at least a few minutes.
I think you were talking about Before Sunrise - that’s the one with Jesse and Celine wandering around Vienna all night. Before Sunset is a sequel and picks it up ten years later in Paris. And after seeing each one a little over a half-dozen times, I have a hard time figuring out which one is better.
As far as Beautiful Girls go, I’m not sure that any of the actresses are supposed to be the titular beautiful girls. They’re all too real - which is the point. The beautiful girls of the ever-annoying Michael Rappaport’s character pin-up plastered wall represent, as he says, “bottled promise.” So long as the girl is nothing but a pin-up, she represents hope and a meetable need. Rappaport’s character maintains for the bulk of the film that this is satisfying enough, but by the end, his facade slips and he recognizes that “beautiful girls” are hollow and the only way to meet his need (indeed mankind’s need) is the actual fulfillment found in real girls - regardless of the problems that are bound to come with them. Each of the principle men in the film have their “fake” to deal with (their own beautiful girl).
For Willy, the fake is Natalie Portman. She’s bottled promise, no more attainable than Rappaport’s pin-ups. For Tommy, the fake is his high school sweetheart - who, until the end when he is brought to his senses, is his masturbatory fantasy to replace his bumpy relationship with a real girl (who, ironically, is better looking than his fantasy). Rappaport’s characters beautiful girl is the most obvious, as he actually has a prepared speech about the subject.
Finally, there’s Uma Thurman. Whereas all the beautiful girls I’ve just mentioned are metaphors, merely representing the idea, Thurman’s character is a metanym. That is she not only represents the thing, but actually is the thing. And so each of the three male leads takes their shot at her, hoping vainly to indulge their fantasy with the ideal of their fantasy. And like all true fantasies, she will not be had, will not be spoiled. She remains a false hope and exits stage even as she entered.
And at the last, everyone grows a little and, to one degree or another, turns their backs on “beautiful girls” in order to take part in real girls. Nick Hornby restates this theme of growth in High Fidelity: “Should I bolt every time I get that feeling in my gut when I meet someone new? Well, I’ve been listening to my gut since I was 14 years old, and frankly speaking, I’ve come to the conclusion that my guts have shit for brains.”
True that, I’ve edited the name in the post. As for Beautiful Girls, you have rendered a much superior description of the film. I should watch High Fidelity again.
I’d say more, but mostly I’m just processing and I have to leave for work soon. Good comment though.