my head is still spinning, and my heart is still pounding and I'm still too turned on by the intelligence of everyone in that movie.
I guess everyone was too smart for their own good. And watching that movie forces you to confront so many things you may not want to confront, and it's so real. Just so real. So raw. Because as I said before, no one's well adjusted.
I can't believe I had a few people tell me it was boring! It may have been....disturbing...but boring was not one of the words I'd have used.
Strength in weakness, weakness in strength, manipulation, and how small we can really be when we're in love, while we're pouring our entire souls into something and someone. But also how great we are in love. Ahhhh.....crazy little thing called love.
btw, I popped into imdb and the banner advertising damien rice's O actually has rollover facilities to watch his MTV clips! Talk about marketing!!!!!
It's the next morning and I woke up thinking about the movie.
I could shred the movie into bite sized pieces and chew each morsel all day.
Act like Diesel and Ash and Ember and bengy and sit there with paws clasped around their chewy stick and nibble. nibble. nibble.
I'm still marinating. Massaging the proverbial drunk chicken.
and well, I reckon part of the reason why Clive Owen got Julia Roberts back is because he didn't hit her. Because as he himself said she loves a guilty fuck. and well, having a man hit you makes you just that much less guilty about walking away.
It sounds dumb, but it makes leaving that much easier. Because suddenly it's justified. Not that it wasn't before. But it suddenly becomes even more so. It's a physical manifestation- that finally there's physical proof of the scars inside. And so the line is drawn.
And you know how sometimes you leave, and then you only remember the beginning and the end, and happy edited G-rated bits. And you wonder if you could really have made it work.
And all that other over-analysis.
And two months later you're back with the person because of all this residual silt-like happiness.
Having someone hit you just makes you feel that much better. Strange but true.
and well, because I LOVE reading bad reviews.
I especially liked the one that told me I liked it because I was an urban bourgeois snot who feels so much better about myself by watching other people miserable and justifying it in the name of art. (and hearing horrible shocking things...like the f-word!)
Almost right. Almost.