Miss Lucas Says

Yesterday I was feeling like shit, so I decided to watch a movie that would probably make me cry. I chose Joe Wright's Pride & Prejudice, it's a romantic epic movie - it'd help me to release my chest, plus there was a hidden intention that'll be explained ahead.

Bottom line is that I didn't cry, I actually felt even more restless as the movie ended. One of the things I mostly love about Jane Austen stories is that no matter how romantic they seem, there's always one particular character that brings you down to reality, the one who always punches you in the guts and kicks you in the ass. In Pride & Prejudice it's Miss Charlotte Lucas [played on the movie by the scrumptious Claudie Blakley].

Always put aside by Lizzie's mother, who never watches her tongue, she's the modest thing you barely notice, but once you get out of your egocentric shell you see how grand she is. On this last screening one of her lines gave me an interesting epiphany. But first a backstory.

Saturday I hooked up with this guy I've had a crush on for almost a year. It was never a hopeless crush because he lives in another town, so I'd only feel it whenever he came to Conquista to visit the friends [me and everyone else in my party]. On the Sunday we hooked up again and, minutes after he left the rock festival he came back to pick me up so I could spend the night with him - he was leaving the city on the following morning.

Knowing my mind you're probably aware of how I'm feeling right now. So, secretly I decided to watch P&P because I was feeling in a Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley situation. I'm shy when it comes to showing my feelings and guys - I mostly suck in coming on the boys and letting them know I'm wanting them. This guy, well, he's worst than me! So, at one moment, Lizzie and Charlotte were talking at the Bingley's private ball and it hit me:

"Lizzie [about Bingley and Jane]: I think he likes her very much.

Miss Lucas: But does she like him? Few of us are secure enough to be in love without proper encouragement. Bingley likes her enormously, but might not do more if she does not help him on it.

Lizzie: She's just shy and modest. If he cannot perceive her regard, he is a fool.

Miss Lucas: We are all fools in love..."

So Lucas [meaning me this time] what's next to do?

[Song: Mr. Donut - Saint Etienne]

In A Sentimental Mood

Yesterday I cried in the end of a beautiful Brazillian movie called The Year My Parents Went On Vacation. Before I had massively cried with Venus like I said a post ago.

Today I felt deeply disturbed while I watched Allen's Interiors; it's not an usual Allen film, not at least like the ones I'm used to see. Allen's movies are always so filled with music and quick dialogues; Interiors however is agonizingly silent and shady. Geraldine Page is amazing as an interior decorator disturbed by divorce; it's amazing how she performed Eve's pale perfection with such a shouting silent sadness that you can't help feeling restless about it. Such feeling hangs on as we follow the lives of her daughters Diane Keaton, Mary Beth Hurt and Kristin Griffth; Hurt is especially mesmerizing as a daughter suffering from the mother's indiference towards her cares.

The movie's constant silence was so disturbing not only for the fact Allen mostly presents himself [in our minds at least] as a musical director [the opening sequence from Manhattan and all of Everyone Says I Love You are heavenly], but also because depression [something that most of the characters seem to suffer from] has exactly the anguish of the silence that precedes the scream, which made me particularly remember of an episode I had in Salvador, when in June Red stayed a weekend at my house and as he and his friends left I was consumed with a silence that, after hours of sleep, exploded into an eloquent cry. That probably just gave me this intense heartburn that hindered any real tears.

The film that really gaves me tears were the following one: The Purple Rose Of Cairo; which is really weird because it is a very cute non-tearjerking comedy, a beautiful love letter to movies. And to have before my eyes the explanation of why I love this art so much was emotionally overwhelming. Mia Farrow is orgasmically natural and thrilling that even the most of cynics can't help loving her sweet innocence towards cinema and life. Her final shot is breathtaking and heartbreaking in levels you cannot exactly explain, which is why I cried.

Later tonight I went out and though loads of laugh filled the atmosphere I still felt somewhat melancholic. When I got home I heard on the news that the plane wreck that happened earlier today in São Paulo killed about 150 people. I cried again.

What is it? Depression I know it's not. It could be the want of romance; or maybe an after-shock from all the latest experiences. Close friends know that it's not unusual for me to cry, but lately I've been running from the easy reasons of this posture. I'm definitely not sad, so why do these tears come at night?

[Song: All Is Full Of Love - Björk]

Depression Movies #2 [Partie Un]: The Feminist

*there might be spoilers*

So tonight, as my very particular form of masochism I decided to watch for the millionth time Pride & Prejudice. Surely some will disagree with me, but I haven't seen lately such a perfect movie. I'm considering the last two years releases, at least. I'll give you three reasons why I think so.

The first and main one is that few film adaptations from novels, especially historically favourite ones such as this, remain so faithful to the original. When I first watched P&P I haven't read the book, although I was already familiar with the author's fame and prestige. The film however, like few others have, gave me this great urge to read the book as soon as possible. After I did all my screenings of the movie are always filled with even more praise on Deborah Moggach and Joe Wright's delightful transfiguration of Jane Austen's humor and writing. Other Austen films like Emma and Oscar winner [for best adapted screenplay] Sense And Sensibility, although being lovely and marvelous have failed to catch me as much as P&P.

The way Wright's camera chronicles the Bennets' lives is so voyueristic that you feel immersed in the movie. There are two specific scenes I never get enough of: at the first ball, during the dance Mr. Bingley is having with Miss Lucas but he and Jane Bennet can't take the eyes from each other, we see Eliza and Miss Lucas peeking at them in way that it feels like it's us who's peeking them all through a keyhole; later when the Bennet girls are leaving Netherfield, Mr. Darcy helps Eliza to get on the carriage... there! That scene is enchanting! It's their first touch and the film filled it with such life and meaning as we see Lizzie's expression and later the close at Mr. Darcy's hand. It reminds me of their first glance at each other back at the ball. It happens so quickly like in real life, hence setting for the public the charachters' passion.

The second point I must once again talk about is the cast. I've hardly seen such a charming ensemble in my life; all the actors worked perfectly in their actings, making those adorable characters coming to life with such naturalness as if we lived in the 18th century. This time I especially got impressed on Kelly Reilly's Caroline Bingley; Mr. Bingley's sister's snobby attitudes and falsehood were performed by Reilly in such a bitchy-yet-discreet way that I was amazed and surprise I never gave much attention to her before. Donald Sutherland's Mr. Bennet's laidbackness is as funny as the book describes; and I totally have no words for Brenda Blethyn and Tom Hollander's performances, they're simply hilarious and captivating; same goes for Carey Mulligan and Jena Malone's as the silly youngest Bennets and the subtle and mesmerzing Rosamund Pike, making Jane the most beautiful of the Bennets indeed [I just wanted to hold her everytime she was onscreen]. Talk about that Dench woman! In her almost-cameo performance she delivers a Lady Catherine de Bourg as bitchy and grand [despite her size] as you imagine that you just hate the hag. Oh and Simon Woods's Mr. Blingley is so cute and innocent you'd put him in a vial and admire him forever.

But surely my favorite actors in this movie are Mathew Macfadyen and Keira Knightley. Mathew has the power of making us fall in love with him at each and every screening. His Mr. Darcy is so poignant and honest that it is kind of cruel how he makes us desiring him to pop out of the screen and coming to us in that final scene. He's as stiff as an 18th century Brit man should be and as charming and thrilling as any Brit man is. As for Keira... well, the woman is G-d! Maybe because I read the book only after I saw the movie, I cannot imagine anyone else as Elizabeth Bennet. As the headstrong and determined woman that Lizzie is, Keira showed us with grand smiles and subtle gestures the character like perhaps Austen had imagined. Lizzie's fierce honesty and deep and sarcastic intelligence burst with life from the eyes and expressions of Knightley. Her voice goes up and/or stumbles at the right moments and the way she's always sweaty and dishevelled is genius!

The third and last reason of my P&P loving is more about the novel than the movie itself. The women from Austen's book are typical 18th century women, except for Eliza of course. Eliza is ahead of her time, that craves for the things women from her time crave, but with a patience, sense and dignity that was rarely found on feminine characters from that period. In a society which a woman had not many options than getting married, Eliza's desire for real and earthquakingly love was groundbreaking. On the plot we know that in case Mr. Bennet died before his daughters got married and left the house, they'd all be thrown to poverty and homelessness. So marriage was a question of survival; still Eliza stood for her beliefs in spite of the dreadful circumstances. Ironically, though, the most heartbreakingly line of the novel, that shows the twisted part of women in that society, is not from Eliza, but from Miss Lucas: "Not all of us can afford to be romantic, Lizzie."[Song: Drowned World/Substitute For Love - Madonna]

Depression Movies #1: A Rouge Holiday With Saudade

When on Friday I saw on IMDb that it was Audrey Hepburn's birthday I instantly decided to homage her by doing a Hepburn marathon as soon as I got home from college; but I was so tired when I arrived that it'd be hard to watch three movies in a row, so I had to pick one. Many would choose Breakfast At Tiffany's on the first hand, but even though I love it to death, differently from the other titles I have, I've seen it like a million times. So I chose Roman Holiday: Audrey's first hit in Hollywood, Audrey's first and only Oscar [I don't count the honorary ones].
On this second screening of this Paramount classic I wondered how would be like if Audrey had the chance to work with Woody Allen. I did it because this woman's sense of naturalness in her acting is so vibrant that even if you see her in some flamboyant and hardly-to-happen situations like in Roman Holiday, you still feel like they're the most common thing to happen.
Well, in it Audrey plays the young Princess Ann who for political duties is touring around Europe. In her stop in Rome she's clearly tired and bored, like any young person would be, and decides to flee so she can see the vivid Roman nightlife. So, things happen and she ends up spending the whole following day with a sly and mischievous American journalist [a marvelous and absolutely charming Gregory Peck] who, realizing he's in the company of such royalty intends to do a bombastic sensationalist report on her. Like many other classics this movie has become pop culture icon and was imitated by many other movies and medias [even Sabrina, the teenage witch]; so for me it's an amusement to watch and try to remember where else I've seen those scenes.
Despite tiny flaws, [we hardly feel Princess Ann and Joe Bradley's affair grow, you simply know it's going to happen and it simply does] superficially this is a movie at cinema's basic premise: entertaining; but of course there's more to it than this. As you follow their adventures on Rome's beautiful and historic landmarks you experience a young woman maturing in front of your eyes. Ann goes from an innocent girl crashed by her larger-than-life duties to a woman finally aware of her importance to her country; and she gets to it by living - even for only one day - her life as she pleases and doing the expected things from a normal adolescent [even if Ann's age is never specified]. That becomes clear when she enters a beauty salon and cuts her hair, as an act of desire for independence, and it makes us wonder if the young should really mature as early as nowadays, missing that way things that will mold them for the rest of their lives.
Audrey Hepburn seems at each moment to be in perfect knowledge of it and owns Ann with sublime and subtle acting [what's that scene when she finds out Joe and Irving are journalists!]. During the shootings Gregory Peck raved on Hepburn's acting abilities and said she should and would win an Oscar for her portrayal of Ann. And well she did, beating established and genius stars like Ava Gardner and Deborah Kerr [as the mysterious and mesmerizing Karen Holmes from From Here To Eternity].

All the colors, music and vibrant life in Moulin Rouge! disguises a deep and sorrowful love story. We all know the ending is beyond sad, but few people realize that it's the culmination of elements that have been explicited since the begining. The fact that Satine's death is revealed on the first ten minutes of the picture is a warning that this is no sappy musical we're watching. For me, this is one of the most heartbreaking and dark movies ever made; I decided to watch it last night due to life synchrony and I was aware it'd be a tearjerking experience.
The contrast between the pop culture carnival and the dark melodrama from the screenplay is delivered by Baz Luhrmann in a glitzy and so glamourous way that you can't help having your jaw dropped, your eyes watered, your body chilled; the kitsch and all over-the-place sets and costumes get wonderfully joyous when you hear all those wonderful songs glued perfectly like the soundtrack of our lives. I mean, if your life were a musical it'd be filled with the songs you listen to everyday; so it's pure amazement to watch Moulin Rouge and sing-along those songs as if you were listening to a mixtape.
Then there's that Kidman woman razzle-dazzling us all with her milky skin and violent red hair combined with that gorgeous blue cinematography. For me Kidman is on the top of her game here; this is my favorite performance of her so far, because she does absolutely everyhting here: she sings, dances, comes down from a trapeze, does comedy, romance and drama all in her first ten onscreen minutes. After that her Satine brings a rollercoaster of emotions and a charisma so hard to find [and still those old sons of bitches gave the Bald Man to that hateful bitch Berry]. Later, when that naughty Christian boy [the always hot and perfect Ewan McGregor] sings her that song, that song we all claim as ours, it's impossible for us not to root for their love.
Oh, and there's Kylie Minogue! It took me millenia to find out that the Green Fairy is her, but now everytime I see it I longer for the moment she pops out of the absinth bottle and turns The Sound Of Music into a sexy and horny thing. She being in such project makes me love Baz even more, meaning he's tuned up to every aspect of the cult, including the underrated G-ds like Minogue. Kylie's cameo in it is one of those pleaseant surprises I love in movies and one of the various others in Moulin Rouge. I abso-fucking-lutely love when Christian and Satine fly to the top of the roof on Your Song and the Singin' In The Rain reference; or the heart-shapped fireworks on I Will Always Love You [not to mention the whole Elephant Love Medley]; and oh man, talk about Material Girl in Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friends.
So in the end, Baz's pop culture collage feels like a musical should make you feel but better, simply because it turns the world in a more happy and beauitful place despite its darkness. And since I'm a sucker for cathartic experiences, this movie is for me the one I need to watch whenever I'm melancholic or romantically crushed; and here stays the tip.

Ages ago I was talking with the ho about how Almodóvar makes his actresses look so hot and desireable even when they're not beautiful; a great example is Rossy De Palma. Last year he turned Penélope Cruz into a real woman again, dropping behind the American startlet image Hollywood imposed to her. So, last night as I watched Hable Con Ella for the second time I got this idea to my mind again. The way Rosario Flores looks masculine and manly is just the cover of a huge feminility she exhales whenever she's onscreen.
But for me, in this 2002 masterpiece Pedro goes mostly about a Portuguese word that is hard to be translated to other languages: saudade. Basically it is like when you miss someone in a way your mind stays caught up into nostalgia. And in this movie it's portrayed in a heartbreaking yet quirky fashion that only Almodóvar can do. Marco missed so much his troubled wife that he cried whenever he lived something sublime and emotional. Why? Because he didn't have her next to him to share it. That's saudade my friends.Another thing that hooked me on this second screening was all the cute flirts he does with Brasil. You all know Caetano sings Cucurrucucú Paloma in it; before that, on the first bullfighting scene the song played is Por Toda A Minha Vida by Elis Regina and Tom Jobim; later Marco cites a Jobim song to Lydia [How Insensitive]; and among the guides written by Marco, there's one from Brasil.

Hable Con Ella by the end turns out to be a beautiful essay about solitude pinched with saudade, where Almodóvar shines his adorable style homaging the art of Cinema [this time the silent era] and using polemic plotlines; but for me this is a movie that has such a hopeful and lightful end that it reassured on me the power of good-bye; but also incited my current desire for love, and I'm not talking about sex.

[Song: Lamb - Gorecki]